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joelmillerisapunk · 1 day ago

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Lonely Hearts Club

Joel Miller x His Hand ★ 2.5K

Summary: idk Joel meets Sarah's teacher, masturbates about it, and then buys a sex toy about it?

-Or-

Joel's first time with a sex toy

Warnings: male masturbation, use of a female sex toy with female anatomy and breasts.

Notes: I have no words, only a big tysm to @thundermartini for always listening to me ramble off ideas and always being their number one fan I love you so much. A big tysm to my wifey @evolnoomym & @syd-djarin for reading this over as well you're the mvps & finally thank you @enchanthings-a for the divider

Joel Miller wasn’t sure what he expected when Sarah asked him to come to her school for parent-teacher night. Maybe some stern-faced woman with reading glasses and a pencil skirt, the type to make him feel like he was back in high school and getting scolded for not paying attention.

What he didn't expect was you.

When he stepped into the brightly lit classroom, his eyes were immediately drawn to you. You stood by your desk, shuffling papers with a warm smile as you greeted parents. Joel felt like he’d been hit by a truck. You were gorgeous—radiant in a way that knocked the breath out of him. The kind of pretty that made his chest ache, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

Sarah tugged at his sleeve, snapping him out of his daze. “Dad, c’mon,” she urged, dragging him closer to the desk where you stood.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you said, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart stutter. “I’m Sarah’s teacher. She talks about you all the time—says you’re the best dad ever.”

Joel felt his face flush. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager again. “She, uh... she says that, huh?”

“She does,” you confirmed, your eyes sparkling with warmth.

He found himself staring, his gaze lingering on the curve of your lips, the way your hair framed your face, the faint scent of your perfume that drifted in the air between you. It had been a long time since Joel felt... this. Like the ground beneath him was suddenly unsteady.

“Daddy, stop staring,” Sarah whispered loudly, nudging him with her elbow.

Joel blinked, mortified, and quickly turned his attention back to you. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

You laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. “Don’t worry, Mr. Miller. Happens all the time.”

He couldn’t tell if you were teasing him or not, but damn if it didn’t make his pulse race.

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. Joel listened as you talked about Sarah—how bright and inquisitive she was, how she always made you laugh with her clever observations. He nodded in all the right places, even managed to ask a question or two about her progress, but his brain was still stuck on how pretty you were. The way you smiled, the way you spoke, the way you looked at him like he was the only one in the room.

Later that night, back home, Joel sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Sarah was already asleep, her laughter from earlier still echoing faintly in his mind.

When it was finally time to leave, Joel thanked you, his voice gruff but sincere. You gave him another one of those dazzling smiles, and it took everything in him not to trip over his own feet on the way out.

But his thoughts weren’t on Sarah anymore.

They were on you.

He could still see the way your lips curved when you smiled, the softness in your eyes when you talked about his daughter. Could still hear the lilt of your voice, feel the phantom warmth of your hand when you’d shaken his at the end of the meeting.

Joel leaned back, his breath hitching as his mind wandered further, the images of you becoming more vivid. He imagined what it’d feel like to have you close, to run his hands over the curves he’d tried so hard not to stare at in the classroom.

His hand drifted lower as he let himself sink into the fantasy, his body responding to the thought of you—of how soft you’d feel, how sweet you’d sound whispering his name.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He knew that. But, fuck, he couldn’t stop himself.

For the first time in a long time, Joel allowed himself to want.

He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes slipping shut as he let the memory of you take over. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his sweatpants suddenly feeling too tight as his mind conjured up the soft lilt of your voice and the curve of your smile. He thought about the way your shirt hugged your body, the delicate slope of your collarbone, and how your lips had parted just slightly when you laughed.

“Jesus christ,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand over his face like he could scrub the image of you away. But it was no use.

With a frustrated groan, Joel shifted, his hand trailing down to undo the string of his pants. He hesitated for a brief moment, guilt prickling at the edges of his thoughts. You were Sarah’s teacher, for god’s sake. This wasn’t right.

But the ache in his body drowned out the protests in his head, and before he knew it, his hand was wrapping around himself, his calloused palm stroking slowly as he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He imagined it was your hand instead, soft and teasing, guiding him with a confidence that left him breathless. In his mind, you were sitting on the edge of the bed, your lips curved into that sweet, knowing smile as you leaned closer, whispering his name like a secret.

Joel’s hand moved faster, his breaths turning ragged as the fantasy deepened. He pictured you on top of him, your hair tumbling around your face as you smiled down at him, your hips rolling slowly, deliberately, as you took him in.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the headboard, his mind consumed by thoughts of you—how you’d feel, how you’d sound, how perfect you’d look with your lips parted around his cock.

The tension coiled tighter in his stomach, his strokes growing uneven as he chased the release he so desperately needed. He imagined the way you’d moan his name, soft and breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pulled you closer, deeper.

It didn’t take long before the fantasy overtook him completely, and with a low, guttural groan, Joel’s body tensed, pleasure crashing over him in waves as he spilled into his hand.

He sat there for a moment afterward, his chest heaving and his mind still clouded with thoughts of you. Guilt tried to creep in again, but it was dulled by the lingering warmth in his body and the memory of your smile that refused to leave him.

Joel sighed, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand and cleaning himself up.

Joel sat at the edge of his bed the next night, the box on his nightstand catching the faint light from his bedside lamp. His jaw tightened as he stared at it, an undeniable pull gnawing at his resolve. He’d been alone for far too long, and no amount of guilt was going to extinguish the ache in his chest—or lower—that had been consuming him.

“You're gonna be trouble,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he laid back against the pillows. But even as he closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep, all he could see was you.

He hadn’t planned on walking into that adult store. Hell, he’d almost turned around and walked out. But the memory of you, with your bright smile, the way your laugh lingered in his ears, and the warmth in your eyes when you spoke to him—it haunted him. Every detail of you was seared into his mind, a constant presence he couldn’t shake.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but his hands were already working to pull the contents free. The toy, a Body Banger Silicone Masturbator, felt heavier than he expected as he set it down on the bed.

The masturbator sat there mocking him, with its realistic breasts, curves, and inviting openings, seemed absurd—and yet, his imagination filled in the gaps. It wasn’t you. It could never be you. But in the dim, lonely quiet of his room, it was the closest he would get to feeling you beneath him.

“Goddamn it what am I doin’,” Joel muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

He placed his hands on the toy, testing the lifelike silicone under his fingers. It was soft—uncomfortably realistic—and when he gave the butt a firm smack, the flesh jiggled slightly in response. Joel froze, his lips twitching into a half-smile despite himself.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. He slapped the toy again, harder this time, watching the way it moved under his hand. “Huh,” he said, his voice low and rough as his fingers kneaded the soft silicone.

His hands roamed over the curves, squeezing the hips and brushing over the small of its back. He flipped it onto its back, his gaze drifting over the chest, the inviting curves of the molded breasts. “They really went all out on this thing,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over the silicone nipples.

A spark of heat flared low in his stomach as he explored further, trailing his fingers along the narrow waist and down between the thighs. The openings were tight, smooth, and designed to feel as real as possible. Joel’s breath hitched, his arousal stirring as his imagination filled with thoughts of you—how you’d feel, how you’d react to his touch.

“Shit,” he murmured. His pants were already uncomfortably tight, and he tugged them down. He positioned the toy on the bed, his hands once again roaming over its chest and hips.

Before long, he was lost in the moment, his rough hands squeezing and teasing, his hips shifting as his arousal grew impossible to ignore. He turned it over and slapped the ass one more time, groaning softly at the way it bounced under his palm, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet room.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his voice low. “This’ll do just fine.”

His palms lingered on the roundness of the ass, giving it another firm squeeze before he flipped it back onto its back.

The chest rose invitingly, and his fingers instinctively found their way to the breasts. He squeezed one, his thumb circling over the firm peak, marveling at the lifelike feel beneath his hand. His other hand slid down the toy’s waist, brushing over its soft surface as he adjusted it on the bed.

He paused, his gaze settling on the toy’s inviting opening. For a moment, he just stared, the vivid image of you flashing in his mind. He imagined you lying beneath him, your body trembling as his hands roamed over you. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the heat in his stomach flaring as his arousal grew harder to ignore.

“Goddamn,” he muttered under his breath. His hand moved lower, his rough fingertips brushing over the toy’s entrance. The soft material yielded under his touch, and he groaned quietly, his imagination filling in the details of how it might feel if it were you instead.

Joel leaned closer, his thumb teasing at the opening, spreading it slightly as he explored it with his fingers. He slid one thick digit inside, the tightness making him suck in a sharp breath. “So fuckin’ tight,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. He worked his finger in and out slowly, adding another as he imagined the way you’d react—your soft gasps, your body shifting under his touch.

Unable to help himself, he spat directly onto the entrance, watching as the wetness coated the material. He worked it in with his fingers, twisting and curling them as if testing how it would feel to have you clench around him. His breathing grew heavier, his hips shifting against the bed as his arousal pressed painfully against his boxers.

The thought of you consumed him, and before he realized it, he leaned down, his tongue darting out to taste the opening. The silicone was smooth under his tongue as he licked a slow, deliberate path, his breath hot against the toy. He teased the entrance with the tip of his tongue, groaning softly as he imagined the sweet taste of you instead.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to spit onto the opening again, his fingers spreading it wide to coat it thoroughly. His arousal throbbed in response, the thought of finally sinking into the toy was almost too much to bear.

Sitting up, he tugged his boxers down, freeing himself. He spat into his hand, slicking himself up with a low groan as his cock twitched in anticipation. His hand gripped the base as he positioned himself, the tip pressing against the entrance.

He paused, exhaling a shaky breath as he imagined it was you—your warmth, your softness, your voice whispering his name. “Wish it was you, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice rough with longing.

Joel pushed forward, his tip slipping inside, and he groaned at the sensation. The tightness was almost too real, and he sank deeper, his hips moving slowly as he buried himself to the hilt. “Shit,” he hissed, his head falling back as his hands gripped the toy’s hips to steady it.

His rhythm was slow at first, his body adjusting to the overwhelming sensation. His hands roamed over the toy’s chest, squeezing the breasts, teasing the nipples, but his mind stayed on you. He imagined your body arching beneath him, your lips parting with gasps as he filled you completely.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” he murmured, his hips moving faster now, the sound of his body meeting the toy filling the room. He slapped one of the breasts, groaning at the way it jiggled beneath his palm. “So fuckin’ sweet, darlin’. Could have you like this all night.”

His thrusts grew rougher, deeper, his need taking over as his fantasies consumed him. He pictured your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your nails dragging down his back as you begged him for more. His breathing was ragged, his voice hoarse as your name spilled from his lips like a prayer.

The tension inside him built rapidly, his muscles tightening with every stroke. “Fuck,” he groaned, his grip on the toy tightening as his hips snapped forward. The thought of you—your warmth, your voice, the way you’d feel around him—pushed him over the edge.

With a guttural cry, Joel came hard, his body shuddering as pleasure crashed over him. He stayed still for a moment as his chest heaved with every labored breath.

When he finally pulled away, the room was quiet except for his ragged breathing. He cleaned himself and the toy carefully before setting it aside.

Collapsing onto the bed, he draped an arm over his eyes, his thoughts a mess of guilt, relief, and a longing for you that refused to fade. Next time he saw you, there was no way he’d be able to keep himself together.

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction

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iris-qt · 1 day ago

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𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎 / 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔

ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ ʙᴏʏꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ

I. Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo freezes mid-bite of his chocolate frog, giving you the kind of look someone reserves for a talking cat. "You can’t pay the what now?" he says, mouth still half-full.

When you repeat it, his eyebrows shoot up so high they practically disappear into his curls. "Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve been paying the rent this whole time? Babe, what rent? Where are you sending this money? Do I need to send the lads to go 'talk' to someone?"

You insist you’re serious, and he bursts into laughter so loud it echoes around the room. He’s clutching his stomach, tears forming in his eyes. "Oh, this is rich! Next, you’ll tell me you’ve been working overtime at Flourish and Blotts to afford my ‘extravagant lifestyle.’ What’s next, huh? Selling cauldron cakes on the side?"

When you try to keep a straight face, he leans forward, his expression deadpan now but his voice dripping with sarcasm. "No, seriously, though. Should I sell my broom? Start knitting scarves for a Galleon a pop? Maybe I can busk on Diagon Alley…play the ukulele or some crap. People love that."

By now, you’re wheezing with laughter, and he just shakes his head, smirking. "Merlin, Y/N, if your acting career doesn’t work out, at least we know you’ve got a future in comedy. But seriously…rent? That’s cute.”

By now, you’re gasping for air, struggling to hold it together, and Mattheo’s smirk only grows wider as he watches you. He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost teasing tone. "You know," he says with a glint in his eye, "If you really need help with the rent... maybe I could offer you a private lesson in how to make some extra Galleons."

II. Theodore Nott

Theo looks up from the chessboard he’s been meticulously studying for the last half hour, an eyebrow raised in mild confusion. "What do you mean you can’t pay the rent?" he asks, his tone calm but with a dangerous edge of skepticism.

You repeat it, adding a dramatic sigh for effect.

He blinks slowly, as if trying to process whether you’ve gone mad or if he missed some critical detail in your relationship. "You’ve... been paying the rent? Since when? Because I distinctly recall handling all of that."

When you insist, he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers like he’s analyzing a particularly tricky potion. "Alright, either you’ve been scammed by an exceptionally creative con artist, or this is your latest attempt to distract me from beating you at chess."

You pout, staying in character, and he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Y/N, do you even know where the rent money comes from? Because I can assure you, it’s not your side gig selling those questionable potions on Etsy.”

The corners of his mouth twitch as he fights a grin. Finally, when you can’t hold back your laughter anymore, he rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Honestly, I need to start charging you rent for all this nonsense. At least make it worth my while.”

As you finally break into laughter, Theo sets his chess pieces down with a dramatic sigh, his eyes softening just a bit. He leans in, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. "You’re impossible," he mutters, his voice a little quieter now, though there’s still a teasing glint in his eyes. "But you know, I wouldn’t have it any other way."

He gives you a small, almost shy smile, then leans back in his chair, his usual cool demeanor returning. "Now, let’s see if you can distract me enough to win this game."

III. Draco Malfoy

He would look at you like you’ve gone MENTAL

“Haha funny joke, y/n,” he rolls his eyes, going right back to reading his book and munching on his green apple.

When you reiterate it, Draco squints at you, lowering his book slightly, the crunch of his apple freezing mid-chew. "Excuse me? You what?" he says, a hint of incredulity creeping into his voice.

When you repeat it again, this time with extra drama, he sits bolt upright, his apple rolling forgotten onto the table. "Wait, wait, wait…you pay the mortgage? Since when? Did I suddenly get amnesia and forget we’re Muggles now? Because last I checked, the Manor doesn’t even have a mortgage!”

He grabs his wand, waving it theatrically. "Accio sense, because clearly you’ve lost yours!”

You keep the act going, insisting you’re serious, and he just gapes at you like you’ve declared you’ve taken up dragon wrestling as a hobby. Finally, he narrows his eyes.

“Y/N, love, if this is about that handbag you wanted last week, just say so. No need to concoct elaborate tales about rent payments. Merlin’s beard, you're ridiculous.”

When you burst into laughter, he leans back in his chair, scowling but unable to hide the faintest smirk. "I’m marrying a lunatic," he mutters, reaching for his apple again. "At least the lunatic has good taste in handbags."

IV. Blaise Zabini

Blaise looks up from his cup of espresso, one perfectly arched brow lifting as he tilts his head at you. "I’m sorry, darling. Did I hear that correctly? You can’t pay the rent? You mean the rent that I, Blaise Zabini, the man with seven vaults at Gringotts, didn’t even let you look at, let alone contribute to?"

You double down, trying to sell your story, and he exhales slowly, setting his glass down with the exaggerated care of a man trying to keep his composure. "This is new. Tragic, even. Shall I sell the antique Italian sofa to keep us afloat? Or, Merlin forbid, cut back on the imported silk sheets?"

When you keep insisting, he leans back, crossing his arms and giving you a slow once-over, his lips twitching with amusement. "You know what? You’re right. It’s all gone. We’re destitute. Better start knitting socks and selling them on Knockturn Alley. Maybe I’ll start charging Draco for advice. He’s overdue for paying his mate tax.”

Finally, when you burst into laughter, Blaise smirks, shaking his head and snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/N. If anyone else tried this nonsense, I’d have them banned from my flat and my life. But you? You get away with everything.”

V. Regulus Black

Regulus doesn’t even look up from his book, clearly too absorbed to even register your words at first. But when you repeat it, his eyes flicker briefly to you, a quizzical expression crossing his face. "Wait, what do you mean you can’t pay the rent?"

You try to explain, going for maximum drama, and he sighs, setting his book down with a soft thud. "Y/N, darling, I pay the rent. I handle everything. You’re telling me you’ve been struggling to pay it all this time?" His tone is flat, not even slightly concerned, just bemused. "I’ve already transferred the payment for the month. Did you forget?"

You continue the joke, and Regulus glances at you again, narrowing his eyes. "Are you seriously trying to convince me that you…you…have been paying the rent? Did you somehow think I’d believe that, or did you just want an excuse to create drama?"

He picks up his book again, unfazed. "You’re lucky you’re charming, because if anyone else tried this, I’d seriously reconsider their grip on reality." He sighs with exaggerated patience, "Don’t you remember? I’m the one who handles the bills. The whole thing is already sorted. No need to panic, love."

When you can’t keep it going anymore and laugh, he glances up once more with a slight smirk, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Y/N, your attempts at theatrics are as bad as your cooking. At least make the drama more believable next time.”

As you laugh, Regulus's serious expression softens just a touch, and he leans over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You’re impossible, you know that?" he mutters, but there's a warmth in his voice. "If you ever do run into a problem, though... just tell me."

You smile, and he sighs, shaking his head with a hint of affection. "I swear, you’ll be the death of me." But there’s a small, barely noticeable smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the kind he only gives when he’s not trying to be all stoic and mysterious.

VI. Tom Riddle

Tom Riddle doesn’t even flinch when you announce that you can’t pay the rent, simply pausing for a moment before his sharp, calculating gaze turns to you. "What are you on about?" he asks, his voice smooth but laced with a hint of annoyance. "You’ve been paying the rent? Since when did you even have the opportunity to pay it?"

When you repeat it with exaggerated seriousness, he leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes, clearly trying to make sense of it. "I’ll admit, you’re certainly creative...but no. I’ve always taken care of the bills. I don’t recall a single instance where you were involved in such matters."

You continue the joke, and he chuckles darkly, though it’s clear he doesn’t fully buy it. "If this is your attempt at gaining attention, it's a poor one, darling. Do you think I’m so easily fooled?" His tone softens just slightly, a flash of something that could almost be affection in his eyes.

He stands and steps toward you, leaning in just close enough to make you feel his presence, but not too close to be truly comforting. "Next time you need a distraction, don’t go around pretending to pay rent," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear ever so slightly. "It’s beneath you. If you need something, ask. But don’t insult my intelligence."

When you finally start laughing, Tom smirks, his eyes glimmering with something softer, though it’s well hidden behind his usual cold demeanor. "You’re insufferable, Y/N. And that’s probably why I... let you get away with it."

A/N: Thank you to @fanfics4ever for this idea ♡

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wolvietxt · 1 day ago

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Could you do Logan Howlett + priorities in the miscommunication prompt? ❤️

one character believes the other is prioritizing someone else over them, feeling hurt and neglected. after a heartfelt confrontation, the other explains their actions, and they find comfort in understanding their connection remains just as strong.

LOGAN had always been hard to read, his gruff exterior a carefully constructed wall that rarely came down. you’d learned to navigate it, to understand the subtle shifts in his tone and the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he allowed you to see. but lately, it felt like those moments had vanished altogether.

every time you tried to talk to him, he seemed preoccupied, his focus drawn to someone or something else. it wasn’t unusual for jean to need his help - her calm presence often balanced his rough edges - but it felt different this time. more constant, more consuming. and no matter how much you tried to push the thought away, the knot in your chest grew tighter with each passing day.

that evening, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. the quiet buzz of the mansion surrounded you, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment logan had walked past you without so much as a glance, every time his voice softened when speaking to jean in a way it hadn’t with you recently.

“what’s eatin’ ya?”

the gravelly voice startled you, and you turned to see logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. his brow was furrowed, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of concern that made your throat tighten.

“nothing,” you muttered, looking away. “just tired.”

“ain’t buyin’ that.” he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the tiled floor. “been quiet lately. somethin’ happen?”

his tone was genuine, but the frustration bubbling beneath your skin refused to be ignored. you set the mug down with more force than necessary, the clink echoing in the room.

“maybe you should ask jean,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” you said, turning to face him fully, “that you’ve been spending more time with her than with me. it’s like i’m not even here anymore.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “jean needed help with some stuff. ain’t nothin’ more than that.”

“it doesn’t feel like nothing,” you said, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “every time i turn around, you’re with her. and i get it, logan. she’s… she’s amazing. but it hurts, okay? it feels like you’d rather be with her than with me.”

his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stepped closer. “that ain’t true,” he said quietly. “jean… she’s been strugglin’ with some things. i was just tryin’ to help her out.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” the question came out as a whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support. “why do you always shut me out?”

logan exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor. “guess i didn’t wanna burden ya. you’ve got enough on your plate without me addin’ to it.”

“so instead, you made me feel like i wasn’t enough,” you said, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. “logan, ‘m here for you. i want to be here for you. but i can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

he looked up, and for the first time in days, you saw a crack in his armor. his expression was a mix of regret and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words gruff but sincere. “you’re right. i shoulda told ya what was goin’ on instead of makin’ ya feel like this. it ain’t fair to ya.”

you blinked, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “i just… i just needed to know i wasn’t losing you.”

he closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gently gripping your arms as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “you ain’t losin’ me,” he said firmly. “that’s the last damn thing that’ll ever happen.”

the sincerity in his voice, the way his fingers curled slightly as if afraid you’d pull away, broke through the last of your defenses. you let out a shaky breath, leaning into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, solid and reassuring.

“i’m sorry too,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt. “for assuming the worst.”

“nah,” he said, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “you had every right to call me out. i’ve been actin’ like a damn fool.”

you let out a small laugh, the tension in your chest easing as his hand traced soothing circles along your back. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting.

“next time,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him, “promise me you’ll talk to me. no more shutting me out.”

his lips quirked into a faint smile, one that reached his eyes. “promise.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple, lingering there for a moment as if grounding himself in your presence. the gesture was simple but full of meaning, a silent reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of misunderstanding finally lifting. and though the road ahead might still have its bumps, you knew you’d face them together - no walls, no secrets, just the unshakable bond that held you both steady.

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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kimmryokoo · 2 days ago

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Late Night - logan howlet

author: kim ryoko

masterlist

summary: logan was supposed to go to a mission that would only last 3 days. unfortunately, it took longer then expected. your birthday went by quicly and you were already sleeping when logan returned. you both really missed each other and you let a kiss turn into something bigger...

word count: 3k

warnings: figeting, smut, filthy, reader has no appetite, slight possibility of death (doesn't happend), teasing, sub reader, little fluff at the end

author's note: english isn't my first language so I'm sorry for ay grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me. I'm so sorry it took me this long to publish something. I've been really busy lately. my birthday was on december 13th (the same as taylor swift🤭), so I wrote this as a sort of birthday present.

It's been days since you last saw Logan. He was out on a mission with Scott and Jean, and they left exactly 7.5 days ago when it was supposed to only last 3 days. You missed Logan very much, and tomorrow was your birthday so you were rooting for Logan and the rest of the team to arrive the night before or in the morning of the day.

It was already 11pm the day before your birthday and you were still waiting for your friends and lover to arrive while sitting in a bench on the jet garage and you then heard the big and thick metal doors sliding to open and the sound of wheels caught your attention.

“You're still here? It's getting late. You should head to bed and get a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Charles said.

“I'm just waiting for them to arrive.” you spoke with a tone filled with exhaustion, worry, hope and love, all at the same time.

“Unfortunately, I don't think they'll come back today.”

“What makes you say that, professor?”

“If they were to return, Jean would've reached to me and reported everything that happened while they were out on the mission, but she hasn't yet.” Charles argued and got a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you and putting an understanding hand on your back.

“I really wanted to spend tomorrow with them.” you said in a sad voice.

“I know. But the only thing you can do right now is go to sleep and get energized for when they do come back.” he stated in his always calm tone.

“You're right. Thank you, professor.” and before you got up to leave the room, you gave a loose hug to the older man that has supported you through so many things.

It was now the next day, 6:30 a.m. and your alarm went on with his job of waking you up. His loud rings easily made their way to your ears and woke you up with a symphony that reminded you a lot of screaming babies. To end your suffering, you quickly moved your hand to turn off the alarm.

You sat up and stared at the place where your feet were hidden under the blanket. You then looked to your side and saw the cold, empty bed you wished was filled by Logan.

You sighed and got up to prepare yourself a bath to give you enough fuel to go through the day.

After you got out of the shower and put on some clothes, you packed everything you needed for the day and when you were packing the notebook where you plan your classes, you saw something written on the page the notebook was opened, and it looked like Logan’s lettering.

‘ Hey. So, I'm pretty sure this mission ain't gonna take 3 days like those dip heads are saying, so I'm writing a note for your birthday, so you can at least hear from me that day.I know that the day you're reading this is your birthday day, because I can see the date of the classes you planned in here. First of all, happy birthday, and I want you to know that I love you. A lot. And you're honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I also want you to know that if I'm not there for your birthday, I'm dying of how much I miss you. I really hope you have a great day and that I get to see you or at least talk to you today. Love ya.

-Lo ’

Wow. Even when he's away, he somehow manages to make your day better.

You read the note and felt your heart swell with love for that man.

You finished packing everything and stepped outside the room and only a few steps later you were attacked by someone who came running towards you from your back and back-hugged you.

“Happy Birthday!” you heard the person whom you then knew was Ororo from her voice.

You turned to your friend and she immediately hugged you properly. Your smile grew wider from all the care your friend was giving you.

“Thank you, Ororo.”

“I got you a present! But I’m only going to give it to you at the end of the day.” the white haired woman said while breaking the hug and holding both your hands to continue touching you somehow.

“Then why would you tell me now?! You’re going to make me anxious all day!” you said in a pout tone but with a smile on your lips as you squeezed your friend’s hands harder.

“I know you have classes to teach, and so have I so I’m not going to take your precious time.” she grinned and kissed my cheek “Have a great day and happy birthday again!” She continued and started walking towards the direction she came from whilst waving a small ‘good-bye’ to which you responded with the same gesture and a kind and grateful smile.

You quickly arrived at your class and from that moment forward, that day was filled with people saying ‘Happy Birthday’ to you and many ‘Happy birthday’ songs.

At the end of all your classes, you decided to head back to the jet garage to wait for the team, since they haven’t arrived yet. While you were sitting on the same bench as the day before, you heard the same sound as you’ve heard the day before - heavy metal doors sliding open and metal wheels going your direction.

“What a Déjà vu, huh?” you said playfully to Charles, who chuckled softly at your statement.

“I would also say so myself. I presume you're here doing the same thing as you were yesterday?”

“Yeah.” you said looking down. The truth was that your day had been amazing, but it still felt a bit empty without Logan.

“Have you had dinner yet? It’s almost 8 p.m. .”

“No, I came here right after my classes finished. I’m just so worried. They should’ve been back by now. What if something bad happened? What if they…?”

“I’m sure it hasn’t. Have a little more faith in them. Go eat something and then I’ll let you come back here, but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep at least by 11 p.m.”

“Fine.” you responded with a tone of defeat and got up to walk to the kitchen.

You tried your best to eat a normal sized meal, but you were too worried to eat anything. You stared at your plate with a small amount of mach-and-cheese and stirred it for about 30 minutes. It took you a long time to eat all of your food, but eventually you finished and cleaned the mess you made.

You left the kitchen and saw the rest of the mansion in complete darkness. You know your way around, and your heart was telling you to go back downstairs and wait for Logan a little longer but you also knew that whether you wanted to or not, you'd make noise that would probably wake someone up and that would make you feel bad. You glance back at the clock on the kitchen wall and see it’s almost 10 p.m. and consider going straight to bed and not risking waking up any student that might make your day 10 times worse tomorrow. You end up going to your room, since you’re also pretty tired from your day.

Once you closed your bedroom door, you started doing your night routine and only a few moments after you lay on your bed, you fell asleep.

You later woke up to what sounded like a door opening and closing. And then another door opened and closed.

You looked around the room and found nothing wrong. It must've been in your dream, so you went back to sleep.

You woke up again, but this time with an arm wrapping around your waist and you supported your weight on your elbow and turned slightly just to see Logan’s exhausted face looking at you with apologizing eyes from his pillow.

“Logan!” you said happily and hugged the man tightly while burying your face in his neck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you!” you said and pulled a bit back to look at Logan’s face.

You leaned forward to lightly press your lips against his. That soft kiss was deepened when his hand grabbed the the back of your neck and pulled you to him. He was quick to change you positions so that he was on top. One of Logan’s hands supported his weight on the mattress near your face while the other one roamed free through your body squeezing your skin. You felt Logan’s tongue against your lips and didn't hesitate to let it in.

“You have no idea how much I missed ya.” Logan said in between kisses with a rough and starved tone that made you moan against his mouth.

In response to your sound, you felt his hips pressuring against yours while his free hand wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel how hard he was beneath his pants and you never wanted something so bad like you did in that moment.

Logan’s mouth didn't restrain only your mouth. It also traveled to your neck and collarbones and you then smelled the scent of his shampoo. That's why you heard 2 doors opening and closing. One of them was your bedroom door and the other one was the bathroom's. It made sense now.

All that sense was rapidly taken away from you when you felt his bulge starting to move against your clothed pussy.

“Ahh… Logan…” you moaned “Please…” you finished.

“What, darlin’? Tell me. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, birthday girl.”

“I… I want you…”

“Where?” he asked “Here?” he said, faking innocence while rubbing stripes on top of your shorts.

“Y-yes…” you said with flushed cheeks.

“Well then. Imma have to take this off.” He said and sat up on his knees to smoothly rip your shorts out of you to find out you weren't wearing any underwear.

“Oh fuck, princess. You'll be the death of me. I've been gone for over a week and come back to you all wet like this? Do you know how hard it is to control myself when all I could smell was this neddy pussy since you saw me?” he asked. His face gets closer with each word. Almost close enough to kiss you.

“Then don't.” you said breathless and softly. You then leaned a bit forward to lick his lips and made them open just a small bit.

You saw the way his eyes darkened in pure lust and you felt it in the way he kissed you - with so much passion and need.

Logan only broke the kiss to sit back up on his knees to rip your shirt off, letting your chest free.

“Why’d you rip all my clothes off?” you asked with your breath taken from the way he took your nipples in his mouth which made you back ark for more.

“My present.” he stated in a low tone.

“But it’s my birthday…” you answered with your eyes closed and a moan escaping your lips when you were done talking.

“Your birthday, my present.”

Logan continued to play with you for a few minutes when you felt a knot on your stomach.

“Lo, I’m close…”

With that, Logan stopped paying attention to your breasts and took his hand to your core, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and slowly inserting his index and middle finger on your clenching hole.

You almost screamed out of pleasure when you felt Logan’s fingers moving inside you and scissoring you open to prepare you. You soon came undone under the felling of the friction of his long, thick and calloused hands inside your pussy.

Logan pulled back his body, taking his fingers out of your hole and putting them in his mouth for a brief second, sucking them.

“The sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted.” he uttered.

He then proceeded to put those same fingers inside your mouth, this time.

“Suck.” he demanded, and when you did as he ordered, he continued “Atta girl.”

With his free hand, he pulled down his pants and his cock immediately sprung free, slapping against his abs, with veins popping out and precum leaking from the tip. Logan then slowly stroked his length to lubricate it while you watched with saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth and your core getting wetter with every passing second, even though you just cummed.

Logan grabbed his cock by the base and aligned it with your hole, pushing bit by bit, inch by inch, until you were a moan and whimper mess. Once he bottomed you out, you moaned into his digits.

“Such a pretty little fuckin’ slut” he said as his gaze stared intensely to where your bodies met, watching you clench around him in an oh so delicious way.

Logan pulled back his hips to immediately rock them back into yours, making the thrilling sound of his skin slapping against yours fill your ears and your brain. Logan’s pace started slow - always careful not to hurt you - but you could tell it was different then usual. He was rougher than normal, eating you out with more urgency.

“You have no idea how good it feels to be inside this pussy again.” he groaned at the end of the sentence.

Logan’s pace sped up as he started to seek for the pleasure of his high that he had felt coming since he began fucking you. Logan knew that after so many days of only cumming with his hand while thinking of in his tend don't even compare to the feel of being inside you and that once he felt it again, he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

Logan took a moment to stop thinking about anything and look at you. Really look at you. The way your hair was messy because of the pillow, the way your forehead was sweating more than usual from thee over-stimulation, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time he pounded inside you, the way your cheeks where flustered and got more red every time he praised you, the way your beautiful lips where glossy and red from all the sucking and that pretty string of saliva dripping in your cheek, the way your neck was marked from his hard work, the way your tits bounced up and down rhythmically with the times he fucked himself into you and the hickeys and red spots here and there, the way your clit was swollen and over-sensitive, the way your pussy wrapped around his cock so perfectly and clenched around him making him feel like he was in heaven, the way your sweet noises filled the room and you the way you called his name like it was a prayer. Fuck… Logan couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed your legs and put them on his shoulders, giving him better access to your g-spot and bending even further to kiss you. The kiss was rugged but held all the feelings he felt when he was alone in his cold sleeping bag in the inside of his tent while listening to Scott and Jean doing what he would kill to be doing with you.

“Lo… I-I’m coming again…”

“That’s it. Come for me princess.”

And, you did as you were told.

As soon as he felt you coming apart on his cock, he couldn’t resist it anymore and filled you up.

“Good girl. Always doing as you’re told.” he said in a teasing and low voice in which you only responded with another moan.

Logan helped you ride both your highs and you both soon came completely. He then let himself fall to your side, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you for the present.” you said with a smile on your face as you lifted up your hand to play with his hair.

Logan chuckled and asked “You think this is your present? I told you it was mine. My fucking present for putting up with Scott and Jean for so long without leaving them there and coming back here to your arms.”

You laughed.

“I wouldn’t have minded that.”

“Noted. I’ll be sure to do it next time.” he joked and you felt his smile against your neck and you laughed again.

“Where’s my present, then?”

“Such an impatient girl.” he said as he pushed himself up, kissed you and grabbed a small box from his nightstand, all without coming out of you.

“Here you go, birthday girl.” He said and kissed your forehead.

You looked at the box and kissed Logan as a thank you. You opened the box and saw dog tags with your info on it and a picture of you and Logan.

“Well this, this is actually for me.” he said as he took your dog tags and with his other hand, he took his own off his neck and gave it to you.

“This is the one that’s actually for you. You know, I really missed you when I was out on the mission, and I know you miss me too when I’m gone so I thought this was a good way for me to always have a piece of you and you always have a piece of me. I also know how much you like that picture, so-” You interrupted him by kissing him.

“Thank you. I love it!” you said and he looked at you like you were an angel. His angel. “I love you, Logan.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

You cupped Logan’s cheeks and kissed him.

Both of you cuddled for the rest of the night and were finally able to fall asleep next to each other after so many nights apart. You were able to be next to each other, to feel the other's warmth.

That was the best night’s sleep both of you have had last week.

Hope you liked it!

xoxo, kim ryoko

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fishbonex · 3 days ago

Text

Sharp thoughts 2/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Things are starting to turn around again.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: insecurities

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

When you realized the way you had spoken to Mel the day before, you wanted to disappear.

What were you thinking? How did you think it was appropriate to talk to a Counselor like that?

Burying your face in your hands, you sighed audibly. Maybe you should start packing your things.

Entering the lab was like committing a crime, walking through the halls was like being wanted. Well, it was all in your head, you knew, in a way. But nothing could stop it from becoming reality.

Losing your privileges and sponsorships, being expelled from your lab and being forgotten were things that could happen if you displeased one of the Council members.

With a dramatic groan, you leaned your head back against the workbench. The richest person in Piltover? You weren't thinking that at all.

At least you were lucky enough not to run into her in the days that followed, which gave you time to think about what to do.

But luck wasn't so great, it seems, because Heimerdinger requested a Council meeting with some of the scientists who occupied the main building. And of course you were among them.

Wearing your formal clothes was still stifling, even after all the time you had been in your profession. Walking and standing in front of the gigantic table with the most important people in the city was even worse.

And there she was. Sitting in all her glory. Her elegant, smooth demeanor was the same, but you didn’t miss the way her expression fell slightly when she laid her eyes on you.

You looked away and swallowed hard, waiting for your turn to speak, which didn't take long because Heimerdinger preferred to interrupt your colleagues whenever he got too excited about their projects.

"Oh yes, you! Come, come closer." he called in his usual cheerful tone of voice. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm very well, professor, thank you-"

"Well, that's great! I've read your latest study, a wonderful thing, I must say." he said, looking around the table, receiving a few nods of approval from the other members. "I hope to be able to read the next one soon, bring it to me as soon as you're done, yes?"

You automatically looked at Mel, since she was the one you took your studies to, she seemed uncomfortable, but remained silent.

"Yes, Professor, of course." you replied politely, clasping your hands in front of you.

"And your engineering projects? I heard from one of your colleagues that you joined him in continuing a magnificent project for the new building—" his cheerful voice was interrupted.

"What engineering projects? I haven't been informed of anything." Mel's voice sounded slightly irritated, different from her usual soft tone.

You turned your head towards her and looked at Heimerdinger again, he gave an encouraging nod and you began to explain yourself.

"It's one of my areas of expertise, which I'm starting to pursue. It's not my project, actually, I'm just going to make a contribution." your voice sounded timid.

"You didn't know? I thought you were her sponsor, Councilor." Jayce's voice came through and only then did you realize he was there.

"I am. One of the sponsors, actually. I demand that your projects be brought to me, it is my responsibility to bring them to the Council." she said it firmly, alternating her eyes between you and Heimerdinger, who just nodded resignedly.

Mel had never spoken to you like that. Giving orders like you were a clueless maid.

"Well." Heimerdinger cleared his throat. "This meeting is adjourned."

You didn't wait for any further orders, turning on your heel and walking quickly back to your lab, letting out a tired sigh as you closed the door behind you.

"Didn't you ever think to tell me you were involved in engineering?" Mel's melodious voice rang out the moment you entered her office in the Council building.

"You never asked me, counselor." you replied, trying to sound polite.

"Won't you stop this?" she raised her voice in annoyance, her pretty face twisting into an angry expression. "Please, we're adults."

You swallowed and nodded, "You're right. I feel really bad... about the way I spoke to you earlier. I shouldn't meddle in your personal relationships."

"You're a personal relationship of mine." she raised an eyebrow. "Don't apologize, I would have been the same way if I witnessed someone having... sexual intercourse."

You felt the back of your neck heat up and sighed, "You were in your house anyway. I'm the one who broke in."

"You didn't broke in, I made it clear that you could come in whenever you wanted. That remains the same." she walked around the table, the clicks of her heels becoming present. "I must also apologize for the way I conducted myself at the Council."

"There's no need-"

"Jayce is a good man, but my relationship with him is... carnal. And business-related." she took a few steps closer. "If that's what's keeping you from me."

"Counselor, I don't-"

"Don't tell me no. You don't want me anymore?" she reached out to pull your hands toward her.

"No one in their right mind would give up on you." you blurted out and widened your eyes slightly afterwards, earning a giggle from Mel.

"Well, that's great then." she hooked her arms around your neck and leaned her face down to you, pressing her delicate lips against yours.

#writing #writers on tumblr #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane fandom #mel medarda x reader #mel x reader #mel medarda #mel arcane #wlw #wlw fanfic

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yeonjunsvape · 2 days ago

Text

L.A girl: joshua smut

w/c: 2.3k

pairing: idol!joshua, female!reader

genre: smut

summary: joshua comes back to his hometown and meets with a girl from his past.

svt masterlist

you highfive your teammates when you score a point and glance over at the crowd forming, cheering you guys on.

there was a particular face which sticks out when you go to serve the ball, it was a tall, well dressed, and smug smiled man.

joshua…

your eyes never left his as he slow claps for you, the arrogance was radiating off his body and you drop the ball to the ground. never has your heart beaten so fast by a person who didn’t have to speak a word, joshua only uses his eyes to get his point across.

without saying a word to your friends, you run off the beach and immediately regret looking weak infront of him.

when you walk down the pier of the beach, you didn’t notice someone following you because your mind was clouded, “why did you run?” a familiar voice from behind you semi-shouts due to all the noise happening around you.

even with all the other sounds coming from every direction in your ears, his voice was crystal clear and transparent. “i-i didn’t run…” you stopped in your tracks but didn’t have the strength to turn around.

it was an obvious lie, he saw you laughing and smiling with your friends until your eyes met his. “you didn’t huh?” he retorts with a sly chuckle.

your fingers ball into a fist until your knuckles turn white and finally turn around to face joshua. “okay fine i did, but who are you to judge? don’t you run away from everyone and everything also?” you shout, walking up closer until you’re chest to chest.

“i can’t argue there, i just thought you would’ve got over that by now.” your eyes roll and he smirks, loving the reaction he gets from you anytime he speaks.

you weren’t sure why he has such an emotional effect in your brain, it’s been that way since middle school. he can be on the other side of the world and you still can’t help but look around small crowds for his face.

“i missed you [Y/N], my band is doing some shooting in la, i just wanted to catch up.” joshua seemed innocent by the way he spoke but you can read his thoughts. “i’ve been great… we caught up, have a good summer.” you turn around and continue your journey down the pier, far away from him.

2 days later was the next time you’d see joshua again.

the day was nothing extraordinary, shower, coffee, and work meetings; that is until, you see the handsome yet annoying smug face walking into your office.

your cheeks sink in and you give him a death glare as he walks to your bosses office door, knocking politely. you stand from your chair and sneak over to the room, peaking in through a window your boss uses to surveillance all your colleagues.

there wasn’t any clear words you could hear and you stomp your foot slightly, getting frustrated you didn’t know joshua’s intentions.

when the two men start walking toward the door, you take off back to your desk, falling off your rolling chair in the process but quickly sitting down, and breathing heavy.

they walk behind you and the hair sticks up on the back of your head just by the presence of joshua hong. “mrs. [Y/N]? this is joshua from the korean band seventeen. they are looking for someone around the area to help them with shooting locations.” you turn around in the chair and bite the inside of your cheek hard.

you worked in retail at the largest agency in la and you had no idea what selling houses had to do with finding locations for a boyband to shoot a music video.

“the beach is always a good location, have a nice day.” you turn back around in your chair and your boss clears his throat, “mrs [Y/N]? take his team to every available property along the shore we have.”

you hesitate but stand up from the chair and grab your belongings. “it’ll be my honor, shall we, mr. hong?” you fake a polite voice for your bosses satisfaction and drop your smile when you’re left alone with joshua. “let’s go.”

the elevator ride to the first floor was nothing short of the most tense experience you’ve ever been in and the worst part is you can’t run away this time.

“sooo… is your manager going with us?” you awkwardly ask, trying to stay professional. “yes, also the other boys, they want to have an opinion on where we shoot.” you just nod and look around the small elevator at anywhere but him.

once the two doors were about to open he presses a button to make the doors close again. “what-” was all you said before he pushes you against the elevator wall, both of his hands on either side of your head.

“why do you do this to me [Y/N]? after all these years of no communication, you still make me feel like we’re in high school.” he mutters in your ear, sending shivers down your entire body.

you didn’t dare speak a word to the man who was now hovering over your body and after a few moments of silence he chuckles, pulling away. “i know you like the back of my hand [Y/N], you act innocent and push me away, then can’t handle the tension so you hate fuck me.”

you push him away when the elevator opens again and people crowd inside, then slip out the door skillfully, leaving joshua behind. your heart was beating so fast you thought it was about to explode.

you’re on level 8 when you need to be on the ground floor, so you quickly run to the stairs in case you run into joshua again.

it was silent, dark, and every move you make echoes throughout the walls of the stairs. halfway through the journey you were already panting and waving your hand on your face as a makeshift fan, seeing ‘floor 4’ on the wall infront of you.

a door opened and closed but with the echoing, it could’ve came from anywhere.

you stop to rest and text your boss it was going good, even though you planned on making a break for it when you finally reach level 1.

as soon as you hit send your phone was snatched out of your hand with aggression, you look up to see joshua. “we never finished our conversation.” he blankly stares, holding your phone as ransom.

you cross your arms and hold your hand out, tapping your foot in annoyance. “may i have my phone back?” “you may have your phone back…. once we finish our conversation.” he replies back, holding the phone behind his back.

“if you don’t give me my phone back, i will scream murder and they will take you to jail.” you threat and your foot tapping getting faster. “there’s no one else in here darling, no one would even hear you,” he smirks to himself as if he won, then putting your phone inside his pants.

your face scrunches at his lame moves, knowing from personal experience he could do much better. “how about, you can have my phone, i’ll just get a new one.” you smirk back and he hums, hearing a text message ‘ding’ coming from in his pants. “that might be important, you should come get it.”

you nod your head and reach your hand in his pants as he wished, digging around to find what you were looking for.

“ahhh there it is, it was so small i almost missed it.” you smirk, cupping his semi-hard dick in your hand, rubbing it slowly until you feel it become fully hard.

after you left him speechless, you grab your phone and walk down the stairs again, texting your boss back. “you were right joshua, it was important.” you call out, not caring if he is following or not.

when you reach level 3, you were pushed against the wall for the second time in the span of 30 minutes, you look up at joshuas eyes and bite the inside of your cheeks again. “you did this to me.” he whispers, glancing down at the very obvious outline in his pants. “yeah and now its your problem.” you spit back, huffing at his aggressive gaze.

joshua pushes his hard on against your pussy that has been aching since the elevator, and hums. “it’s our problem [Y/N], i can tell you’re putting on a brave face, but you want me.”

even if his words were true, you needed to stay strong so you don’t end up as the loser in his game.

“look at you, the desperation in wearing that skin tight leather skirt is all i need to know.” joshua smirks, spreading your legs apart with his knee. “how much you wanna bet you’re soaking in those panties? a slut like you loves when a man is basically begging for your pussy.” he whispers in your ear, moving a hand down to lift up your skirt slowly.

“i-i won’t be, you have no effect on my pussy.” you whisper back, clenching your eyes shut when you feel his hand creeping up your thigh. “you sure?” joshua asks with a chuckle, the wetness running down your leg before he could even make it to your panties.

“i love how i can make you dripping just by my words. you’ve always liked being degraded.” he mumbles and finally reaches your core, his hand stopping when he feels no panties. “were you preparing for this moment? you knew i would find a way to get us alone huh? god you’re so slutty and sexy.” joshua smirks and flicks your clit with his fingers, making your entire body jolt.

“it’s true.” you whimper, not caring about winning or losing his game anymore, you just needed his dick.

joshua lifts you by the waist and pins you to the wall so your legs are spread around him. “sorry doll, no time for foreplay, someone can catch us.”

the thought of someone hearing, or seeing joshua fucking you hard against your work walls made you even wetter, the juice dripping on his pants as you wait for him to take his dick out.

once it was free, he lifts your hips so he could get a good grip on you before slamming as hard as he could inside your pussy. you yell but a hand slapped over your mouth, and tears forming in your eyes. it hurt so good, you wanted to feel him slam in you again without any warning.

joshua bounces you up and down on his large cock, smirking at your already tearful eyes. “its not small now, is it whore? it’s not small when its pounding into you tight wet pussy.” he moans out, thrusting his hips as fast as he can.

his name calling made your walls clench around him, it was your biggest turn on. “you’re so obedient doll, i tell you to spread your legs and here you are, being fucked senseless at your work.” he was panting now and you knew it was going to be a quickie, which you didn’t mind, you were already cumming on his dick as he spoke.

joshua reaches a hand up and wraps it around your slim throat, kissing your lips sloppily. he slurps up the saliva that was running down your mouth from pleasure and hums. “so sexy.” he moans, choking you harder.

“go faster.” you choke out, hearing a chuckle come from his mouth. “this isn’t fast enough for my little cum slut?” he retorts and you clench again at the name.

despite the teasing, he does as you ask, and thrusts as fast as his hips could go, “im about to cum baby, i missed your pussy so much.” he lowly moans, hands still around your neck and kisses your mouth.

joshua gives two more hard thrusts before shooting inside of your guts, pushing deeper in and whimpers against your mouth.

“f-fuck.” he groans when he pulls away from the kiss, resting a hand against the wall so he could hold you up on his waist, still deep inside of your now sensitive pussy. “that was the best hate sex we’ve ever had,” you giggle, twitching everytime he moved inside of you.

joshua finally pulls out of you when he catches his breath and zips his pants up. “lets go back to my hotel and do that again.” he smirks, kissing your neck slowly. “what about the house hunting for your music video?” you ask, tilting your head so he could kiss more of your neck.

“oh, we’re shooting at the beach, i had a free day and got bored.” he admits and you scoff. “you’re such a dick.” you cross your arms and start walking off, joshua catching up to you fast, “i just wanted your pussy, but i will tell your boss you are the best employee, and we spent all day looking at beautiful houses. meanwhile, we’re at my hotel fucking and you get a day off.” he negotiates and you think about it for a second, “alright deal.”

he was satisfied with your response and he grabs your hand but you pull away. “we’re better at hate fucking, not lovey dovey.” he nods in agreement and leaves your workplace with you, heading to his hotel.

“you should come back more though shua, you’re much use to me when you’re here.”

a/n: its 5 am and i just finished, im so tired, i started at 12 am 😂 but i really wanted to get this posted bc i have a busy day tomorrow, hope you enjoy!! my requests are open!!

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whateverisbeautiful · 3 days ago

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I love waking up and reading your Richonne posts. You pretty much hit on every scene and I am so thankful for that.

Could you go over maybe a 2 part take of what you think had happened during the months of them getting to know each other during the prison times. Also, the months they got close together in Alexandria before they became official. Since, the show robbed of us seeing those scenes. I would love to hear your detailed theory on it because you know these two characters so well!

A 2-parter? You’re speaking my language, anon. 😋 Thank you for this message. 🙏🏽 And for some reason my mind read this ask and added in “a detailed play-by-play” of what I think happened and so that’s pretty much what I ended up writing. Starting with Part One - the time in between Seasons 3 and 4 at the prison that led to Rick and Michonne being like this in the season 4 premiere ⬇️💗:

I always like to think about what specific context from the actual show could most inform these type of unseen scenarios and then shape what I envision from there. So I first started thinking about where Rick and Michonne landed in the season 3 finale.

If I remember correctly they both rode in the car together after saying their goodbyes to Andrea, and Daryl drove the bus. I feel like that car ride might have laid another small stepping stone toward growing Rick and Michonne’s fondness for each other. I don’t imagine that they even talked much in the car because it was a somber vibe after losing Andrea. But I can picture Rick seeing Michonne quietly emotional in the car, and for reasons he’s not fully aware of yet seeing her upset affects him and his want to comfort her is stronger than he’d expect.

I can picture something like when they pull up to the prison after Woodbury, Rick just lets her know that Andrea isn’t the only one who thinks it’s good that Michonne found them. And the silence after is so clearly his “I’m glad too.” But you know how back then Rick tended to say something that felt like it was almost going to be a profession about his fondness for her but then he’d sorta retreat - I think he’d do that and just add that they all are glad she’s with them. And Michonne would just give an appreciative smile and walk away because she’d still be pretty heartbroken over losing yet another person she cared about.

Then I think going forward, that loss, on top of the loss of her boyfriend and baby, makes Michonne maintain a friendly distance from everyone in team family for a while. Like she’s always keeping herself busy by independently tending to tasks that help around the prison, going on runs, and trying to track down The Governor. But Rick still keeps an eye on her from afar.

And if I remember correctly, because it’s been a minute since I’ve watched these seasons, Rick and Michonne both weren’t members of that new committee that was formed. So I can imagine that maybe there were times when some of the other people closest to them were in meetings or away which may have prompted Rick and Michonne to chat a bit more - but still keeping it light and brief, not having extended conversations yet. Perhaps both would find themselves observing each other at times - Michonne seeing Rick out farming, Rick seeing Michonne out taking down walkers around the prison’s perimeter. Except maybe not watching her with binoculars this time lol.

Then, going off of info from s4, I think during these months that we didn’t see something that might’ve slowly but surely made Michonne lessen some of her lone wolf ways is when Daryl asks her to join him on runs. She agrees to go with him and they build a friendship.

And then whenever Michonne is back at the prison she starts getting closer to Carl too because they bond over things like books and comics. And perhaps Michonne and Carl especially bond when she brings back a bag of candy for him after one of her runs. They share some together and learn Michonne doesn’t mind the stale M&M's, and that becomes a running joke between them. 😊

So with Michonne getting closer to two of the people closest to Rick - Carl and Daryl - that starts bringing Rick and Michonne around each other more often too in a more social context. And this is where that crush we saw had clearly formed by the s4 premiere really starts taking root.

Like Michonne and Carl build this really natural, lighthearted, playful rapport and then it leads to Michonne lightly joking with Rick too. I picture that Rick is a bit bashful around her but they still occasionally have that flirty subtle-but-not-subtle “must’ve been something else then”/“you want to drive” type exchanges.

And Daryl definitely peeps these moments at times and knows you don’t even have to be an observant tracker to pick up on the stuff between Rick and Michonne. But he keeps those observations to himself...for the most part lol.

Michonne has playful banter with Daryl too but subconsciously she can feel that her exchanges with Rick feel different. And Rick loves it whenever Michonne spends time with them around the prison. It feels like family.

Other TWD scenes that I think give a glimpse into what that time between s3 and s4 might've looked like are when Rick asks if she’s okay after she hurts her ankle, and when Rick washes up and asks if Michonne needs help with cleaning up those walker bodies. Lots of exchanges like that going on. Showing they care and like each other but are moving slowly toward really getting close.

And through these exchanges - of which it’s rarely ever just the two of them in private because Carl or people are usually always around - Rick and Michonne start to pick up on more and more things they like about each other.

I like to imagine that perhaps whenever the community had some downtime in the evenings or nights, it’d so often end up being Michonne, Carl, and Rick hanging around each other. With Judith there too sometimes, who Michonne seems to keep this subtle distance from as the baby triggers too painful a wound.

But when Michonne starts to really care for them and feels herself getting closer to them - finding herself thinking about Rick and Carl while on runs and looking forward to their little exchanges - she starts going out further and further to look for the Governor - and subconsciously, part of that is to distance herself.

Rick isn’t crazy about her going off alone to find a certified madman but only really shows his disagreement in facial expression and maybe an occasional remark to Daryl about how he wants her to be safe. (And Daryl knows Rick wants that and more when it comes to Michonne, ijs.).

Maybe one time Rick does mention to Michonne that she doesn’t have to go out so much or so far but she’s adamant that it is something she has to do - hence why she makes that “It’s worth a shot" comment when she’s talking to Rick and Daryl in the s4 premiere.

She might already know Rick feels a type of way about her going on these missions cuz he briefly mentioned it before (and because he can't help but wear his emotions right on his face lol), but her subconscious also knows that staying around Rick too long is too vulnerable and wakes up too much within her that she thought died a while ago.

Finally, I picture that there’s one night when Rick, Michonne, and Carl are just enjoying some downtime chatting together as usual but then either Carl falls asleep or somehow he leaves to talk with one of the kids around the prison and it’s a rare moment where it’s just Rick and Michonne together.

And that night they start talking on a more personal level. They don’t divulge their life stories or anything because I don’t think they really deep-dived into getting to know each other like that until the second half of season 4. But in this conversation, they do open up just a bit more and give more insight into how they think and operate, which they refreshingly find to be quite similar. And in the areas they learn that they’re different - they find that refreshing too.

And I like to think that their talk on this one night was one of those things where - you know how people say they were conversing with their person in the early stages of getting to know them and they just never wanted the moment to end and they could have stayed talking to that person forever and damn near do talk to them for more hours than they realized? It was like that.

Rick and Michonne both know in the deeper parts of their psyche that spending that time together just felt right. Falling for each other is still something they're doing subconsciously rather than cognizantly at this point, but what they are aware of is that they do enjoy each other a lot. And how right it feels to spend time with each other also subconsciously scares them a bit. Almost like it’s too right too fast. So those walls go right back up after that conversation ends and they don’t really get a chance to talk on that personal of a level again until the prison falls.

Even though deep down both of them really would like to have that time together again, and low-key Rick is so eager for another chance to just be around her like that, that just hearing her riding back from one of her outings has him springing up from his farming session with Hershel in order to run and greet her and ask if she’s going to stay a little while.

And that’s my take on what I think happened between Richonne in the time between season 3 and season 4. 👌🏽😌

And Anon, you know you’ve tempted me with a good time by asking to have a part two about the time between No Way Out and Richonne’s canon episode The Next World. So I'll try and have a (possibly less lengthy 😅) Part Two on the way soon. 😊

#richonne #reflecting on richonne #asks & answers

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thefandomsfervent · 2 days ago

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Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments(Part 17) - Prussian Blue

This is a jayvik x reader fic now but it'll still be labeled as a Vik Fic until it's fully implemented. Ft. JayVik and wine, drunk Jayvik, it goes 18+ here (masturbation). Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. It's late, I was on a roll, and I didn't proofread this a whole lot, I'll edit it later.

Planning on writing as much as I can this weekend to post in bulk before Christmas week, I'll be traveling a distance away and can't bring my laptop with me.

stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

It only took you thirty minutes to find your way back to the lab. Although, those first few minutes had you stressed and embarrassed. You and Mel had spent almost two hours walking and talking and you thought she had taken you all over the Academy, but she really had you both walking laps. You were closer to the dining hall than you thought, from there you were able to find your room, and then the lab. Just as you walk up to that heavy door it swings open.

“Zlato, please, use your feet.” It’s Viktor, doing his best to keep Jayce above the floor. You rush forward without thinking and get under Jayce’s other arm to prop him up. You have to drop your pouch and your sketchbook. It gets kicked behind you into the lab once you’re able to stand taller.

“What happened?” You’re asking as you shift Jayce between yourself and Viktor. He’s laughing to himself at the situation. “Oh my gods. He was drunk. Jayce Talis sensible golden boy was drunk.” You remember the wine that Mel had gifted them. But it had only been two hours. Three and half maybe?

“The wine was stronger than we thought.” When you look at Viktor you see his hair is tousled, his cheeks red from exertion or his own drinking you aren’t sure.

“Did he have the whole bottle?” You’re laughing and trying not to. The shaking of your shoulders makes it hard to keep Jayce up straight. “Hun you have to help us help you okay?”

“Mmm you’re both warm. ‘S nice.” You were not letting him live this down tomorrow, if he wasn’t suffering a raging hangover.

“He had four glasses, too close together I think.” Viktor is adjusting his cane straighter with one hand and moving his shoulders around to get a better grip on Jayce’s back with his other.

“And you?”

“I also had four, but I am much better with alcohol than he is.” He thinks back to the first time they had drank together. Some whiskey that was spiced heavily at a cocktail lounge many many months ago. Viktor had enjoyed it, nursing a glass for the first thirty minutes. But Jayce? He slammed it and immediately gagged. Coughing and sputtering. That one drink alone had almost knocked him clean on his ass ten minutes later. He’s laughing at the memory. Especially when he remembers that Jayce made the exact same mistake another ten minutes after drinking a seltzer and they had to sit on the curb outside nursing water. Since then Jayce had learned how to pace himself, learned that he preferred drinks that did not burn his throat and were easier to sip on. Wine was hit or miss. “The wine was sweet, so he was not as cautious as he should have been.”

“WE ARE CELEBRAATING!” The sudden input from Jayce surprised you both. Despite his jelly legs his arms are strong, squeezing the two of you closer. He wasn’t yelling, as much as he was whisper screaming.

“Oh! Congratulations, a new development?” You’re following Viktor’s lead as you take patient steps down the hall. Viktor looks down to Jayce, whose face is flush from all the wine, who has a smile so bright it could be seen in the dark, and who is actively starting to fall asleep in their arms. They needed to move him quickly before he was dead weight. At that point it would be impossible to move him even with your help. There was no time to explain what they were celebrating.

“Yes, a new development.” He can’t help the gentle grin growing on his face. It was so warm. This endearment blooming in his ribs, the wine finding its place throughout his body, feeling your arm against his as you help him haul Jayce down the hallway. He can see their rooms. His was closest and Jayce’s was a couple doors down. There were many reasons he was thankful for the proximity of their moved rooms, but now more than ever. His hand using his cane was starting to go numb from the pressure, a pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder. “Here, to the left. Can you get him to the wall?” Jayce is heavy but you manage to move him to the wall by yourself, needing a breather as you slump against it with him.

He looks sleepy. Eyes struggling to stay open, his mouth parted, his usually perfect combed back hair disheveled.. “Pretty boy indeed.” You’re brushing it out of his face when he leans into your hand. He’s smiling, white teeth and happiness blinding even in the dim light of the hall. “You alright?”

“Neveerr betterrr.” It’s a slurred breathy reply and he slots his head against your shoulder. Viktor is glancing at you while also fiddling with a ring of keys. The clinking sound of metal against metal echoing in the hallway. He finds the one for Jayce’s room and starts unlocking the door. He nods at you to try and get Jayce to his feet.

“Hey big guy, you ready to get up again?” Jayce just hums, pushing the back of his head against the wall now. “Don’t you want to lay down all cozy in bed?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then I’m going to get up and I’ll need you to come with me. Can you do that?” Jayce gives another hum of agreement and Viktor watches how gentle you are with him. Helping him stand gingerly, holding onto his waist with one arm, and pulling Jayce’s arm over your shoulder again. Intertwining your fingers with his golden partner’s as you try your damndest to get him through the door. He watches as you give Jayce affirming words and praise for just moving forward with you. It pulls at his core, at all the things him and Jayce had discussed tonight. At all the moments that have been shared. “I’m a sappy drunk,” he thinks as he directs you to Jayce’s bedroom. Viktor pulls the covers back on the bed and lets you set the man down before he sits with him. Helping him take off his shoes.

“Thank you for your help. I am sure he will apologize tomorrow.” Jayce is leaning against Viktor, whispering something you can’t catch.

“I can’t say I won’t give him a hard time.” You laugh at the thought, then again when Jayce’s hand is slapped away from Viktor’s tie. It almost dies in your throat when you watch Viktor’s slender fingers work at Jayce’s. You know it’s to help Jayce get ready for bed, but after all that you’ve seen today it was an image you weren’t sure you were supposed to be burning into your memory like you are. “Goodluck. I’ll be in the hall if you need help.” Viktor just nods, trying to get Jayce to sit still as you leave.

You can hear Viktor talking to Jayce, instructing him as you close the bedroom door. Jayce’s apartment is neat but lived in. It smelled a little of oil? And baked spices. A jacket tossed over a couch, shoes neatly lined by the front door. A table with notes and blueprints that looked similar to how he kept his own room. Stacks of books filled with sticky notes. There are a few plants around. A guitar? So much information about a person in one space. It made you wonder about Viktor’s room. If it was neater than this knowing that he barely spent any time there. As you make your way into the hall you remember that Viktor had a key, on his own key ring, to Jayce’s place. So intimate, the care they had for each other. So sweet in its normalcy. A feeling brews in your chest as you wait by the door. Overwhelming and unknown, something akin to wanting.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“You are drunk Jayce.” Viktor is trying his hardest to not laugh at the man in front of him, struggling to unbutton his own shirt.

“ ‘know that.” An irritated huff, an uncommon sound for his partner. “ ‘m trying.”

“I know you are, let me help.” It takes a few minutes to get Jayce set up for bed. Viktor leaves him in his undershirt, let’s Jayce take care of his pants despite the struggle. There’s a want brewing in him. He wants to stay here, to hold him til he sleeps, be there with water and maybe a pain reliever when he wakes up. But he doesn’t. He ignores the whine in Jayce’s throat when he goes to the kitchen to get his partner water. When he returns Jayce is out cold. Snoring softly under the covers. He leaves the water on the bedside table, watching the even breathing that moves Jayce’s chest. A hand moves to cup his cheek, rubbing a circle into the apple of it. Viktor’s heart swells when he feels the weight of Jayce push into it unconsciously.

He joins you in the hallway shortly after. You were staring at the wall in front of you, zoning out when the closing of the door snaps you out of it.

“Hey, he alright?” You’re leaning forward, hands by your side as you face him.

“He will be fine. Embarrassed, but fine.” Viktor was tired, the wine making him sleepy and warm. He starts walking towards his room and you follow.

“Didn’t think he’d be a lightweight. It’s kinda-” cute. You don’t finish the sentence but it seems like Viktor agrees with you, laughing softly as his cane taps against the floor.

“Unexpected. I did not know either when we first met. He will deny it though, if you ask it. Blames it on anything else.” He likes hearing you laugh. He likes knowing he caused it. He frowns when he realizes how short the walk is to his room. You would be leaving now. “Goodnight Ms. L/N. We shall see you in the lab tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes. Goodnight Viktor.” Your voice is so soft, so sweet. Viktor watches as you walk down the hall, flipping through all the keys he has before finding the one for his door. He hadn’t gone to bed this early in a long time. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and he was already in his room getting ready to shower. Discarding clothes, finding ones for tomorrow. Brushing his teeth as the shower heats up.

When he steps in it fogs up the window over his sink. The warm water soothing the aches of his body. He goes over today’s events as he lathers a shampoo through his hair. How Jayce’s teasing of you led to teasing him. And now they were… together. Officially. Finally declared as two parts of a whole, and that they both wanted you. He thinks about the wine. How it was sweet and rich and strong. How it was sweeter on Jayce when he kissed him again. How pliant Jayce was in his hands, the heat of those broad shoulders in his palms. The sounds of their kissing, teeth clacking, lips hungrier after every glass.

He should be rinsing the soap out of his hair, he should be washing his body. The routine of putting soap to a washcloth, rubbing it between his hands to form suds lingers in the back of his mind as he continues to think of those kisses. How he could taste fermented fruit and cinnamon and Jayce. A different familiar memory cuts through the haze, much stronger this time. Of release, of teasing touches from past lovers. His imagination taking over. When Jayce tried to bed him would he touch him the same way? The shower is getting hotter, the wine on his breath despite having brushed his teeth. When he tried to bed you, would you react like he did? Would you feel the same that he and Jayce did, would you want them together?

His hand was moving lower, lower, lower. He could feel it happening, the blood moving down, the water against it but he is surprised at how hard he is. When he moves his hand down, the tip moving past the opening of his fist he imagines your lips. How would they feel on him, would you be experienced enough to wet them before starting. The image of you on your knees alone has him moving faster but then his thoughts wander. Would you start slow or would you try to take him all at once? Could he fist both of his hands in your hair and hold you there so could he fuck your mouth. Or would you take the lead, bobbing your head up and down. He imagines your hands holding it or maybe braced on his hips, fingers digging into the flesh. Would Jayce talk you through it once he knew what worked for Viktor?

He can feel it building, all too quickly. It's been a while since he indulged himself like this. A raspy breath falling from his chapped lips. You were so soft. Sweet. Your voice. Quiet and gentle. Would it be honeyed with a returned lust or would it be strained? Dazed like that morning he woke you? "Viktor?" It’s your voice. It’s Jayce’s. The intensity almost knocks him off balance, free hand bracing on the tiled wall as he finishes. Shooting forward onto the handles of the shower. A long burst followed by several short ones as he slows his hand. Twitching when he lets himself go.

And then the only fog he's left with is the steam of the shower. He felt faint, the shower water was too hot and he hadn't been taking full breaths. He turns a handle to make the shower cold and his hand is sticky with his release. Shame. Regret. Oh. What did he just do? He wants to blame it on Jayce’s teasing today. On the glass of wine that warmed his chest. But he knows that's not it. That it's his own depravity.

Well, he could blame all of those things. Embarrassment burns his cheeks more than the water, more than the wine. He hadn’t indulged in that in so, so long. And the realization that there would be something with Jayce in the future settles in his chest. That Jayce wouldn’t be upset with him for this. He takes a deep breath.

More thoughts for later. Exhaustion is deep in his bones now, it had been a long day despite coming to his room early. He needs to sleep, to clean up. He lathers the rag on the hook and enjoys the rest of his shower. Tomorrow will be a new day. A good day.

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--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 16-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

#chat he jorked it #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane #viktor arcane #x reader #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #jayvik #jayvikmel #jayce talis #mel medarda

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monogamia · 1 day ago

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੭⠀It had been a long time since he had felt your lips against his, and he was starving. Or well, blurbs of a make out session.

⋆⠀FEATURING: Frederick Kreiburg 'Composer', Norton Campbell 'Prospector', Orpheus 'Novelist'.

⋆⠀WARNING: This post contain suggestive content. Frederick behaving like a red flag. Gender neutral!Reader. May contain spoilers of Ashes of Memory.

You were walking through the stable, trying to distract yourself from your boyfriend's indecent and insistent touches under the table during breakfast. You weren’t even sure if you were allowed to wander around that part of the manor, but at no point did you consider turning back and going inside those suffocating walls.

୨୧⠀⠀FREDERICK KREIBURG,⠀Composer.

"How much longer do you plan to avoid me?" a voice asked behind you. Turning around, you saw Frederick leaning against the doorframe, his eyes watching your every move, barely blinking.

You stayed silent for a few seconds. "You told me it was better if no one knew about our relationship." He took a few steps toward you, his usual serious expression on his face—except for a slight pout. "You really are confusing, Mr. Kreiburg."

"It's Frederick to you, and you know it." He grabbed your chin, preventing you from moving—not that you would, anyway. "You seemed quite happy while talking to that novelist."

You blinked, and a genuine smile formed on your lips. As if reading your thoughts, he frowned. "It's not jealousy. It's about you preferring someone else's company over your partner's."

He didn’t wait for a response, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in an almost desperate kiss. You stumbled slightly, but his hands held you firmly in place.

When you finally broke apart, after what felt like hours, to catch your breath, he didn’t stop. Instead, his lips trailed to your neck, nibbling at your skin.

"Visit my room tonight…" you managed to murmur, fighting the soft moans threatening to escape. Frederick paused for a second.

"No," he said, pulling back to look at you. "We’ll… talk here, though I won’t refuse your invitation for later." The composer tilted your chin up, giving you one last kiss, unsurprisingly far from gentle. "Now, don’t act like you don’t know what I want you to do. We have plenty of time and privacy without your "friends" around." he said.

୨୧⠀⠀NORTON CAMPBELL,⠀Prospector.

As soon as your feet touched the grass again, you were pulled back into the stable. Your eyes widened, teeth ready to sink into the hand covering your mouth—until your memory recognized the gloves.

When you stopped struggling against his grip, your boyfriend turned you around, his hands now holding your waist. His sulking scowl softened into a sly smirk when he noticed how startled you were. Before you could scold him, he pressed his lips to yours, pushing you against the wall.

"Hush, now. That stupid scientist is stealing all the attention that should be mine." he muttered against the kiss, his leg slipping between yours and spreading them apart.

"She’s an entomologist," you corrected him, gripping his shoulders. You swore with every passing second that you would push him away, but your body refused to obey. That is, until his hands left your waist and moved to your zipper.

"Enough." Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath. "You’ve had your fill, haven’t you?"

Norton grumbled, resting his head on your shoulder and giving your neck a light bite. "I don’t understand why we can’t just act like a couple." You stroked his hair in a small gesture of comfort. "Let’s just get the money and leave this place, go to some place where I can actually fuck you whenever I want, without having to wait for the time those idiots to get distracted."

୨୧⠀⠀ORPHEUS,⠀Novelist.

You were just passing through the stable, checking its condition, when you were suddenly pulled into one of the stalls. Orpheus didn’t even give you time to process what was happening before kissing you without hesitation.

His arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand cupped your chin. You couldn’t bring yourself to break the kiss, let alone resist, your own arms encircling his neck and pulling him closer.

Pausing the kiss, he smiled. "I missed your lips." His face then leaned into the crook of your neck, burying itself there and taking in your scent. He began trailing kisses down your neck, drawing a soft sigh from you.

His arms pulled you closer, gently lifting you slightly to bring you closer to his height, resuming the kiss. It grew rougher and more passionate with each passing second.

His hands slid up to your shirt, undoing two buttons before you caught his wrist, giving him a teasing smile. “Where are your gentlemanly manners, hm? Aren’t you going to recite poetry in my ear first?”

“Haven’t we moved past that stage?” he asked, sucking the skin on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. “Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve had some quality time with my beloved. Are you really going to blame a man for loving?”

You laughed at his silly and cheesy excuse, your eyes following him as he knelt down and removed his monocle. “May I?” he asked with a smile.

#identity v x reader #idv x you #identity five #idv x reader #frederick kreiburg #composer x you #norton campbell x reader #orpheus x reader #novelist x you

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razzmatash · 2 days ago

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Hold Me Close Day 8 - Touch starved Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1615 words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

Absently stirring her tea, Calli tried not to yawn. She’d only woken up a little while ago and she was debating on if she should just go back to sleep. It was her day off and all of the overtime was finally catching up with her. If she wanted to be proactive, she should do some more shopping to round out what she was missing but she didn’t have the energy for it. The holiday itself was only a week away and if she was going to survive it, she needed to rest.

And she could probably order anything online and be fine.

She finally yawned and winced as her jaw cracked. Well that was just great. Picking up her drink, she turned to go back into her room but stopped as the front door swung open suddenly. She blinked and turned to the entrance. There were only two other people that she’d added to the lock and neither one of them were supposed to be here. She stared as Sylus stepped into view, several large bags in his hands. “Uhm, hi,” she said in surprise.

He stopped, staring back at her before he made a low noise. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked as he pushed the door closed behind him.

“I just woke up and was thirsty. I was going to go back to bed. What are you doing here?”

He gave her a look that she was quickly getting tired of since he’d been giving her it almost every time they’d seen each other over the last couple of weeks. It was one that said she needed to not ask questions because it was the holiday season and she’d been the one to teach him it so she couldn’t complain. According to him. “We’re celebrating here aren’t we?” he asked, taking off his shoes before walking over to her. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, nuzzling against her hair with a quiet sigh, before he kept going past her into the living room.

What did that mean? Setting her drink down, she shuffled after him and frowned as she saw that he was near the tree. “Sylus-” She squawked when she felt his Evol wrap around her before she could get closer, lifting her off her feet and giving her a gentle toss toward her bedroom door. “H-Hey!”

“Go back to sleep, sweetie,” he said without looking.

“No, I-” A disgruntled noise as the black and red mist swirled around her again, suspending her in air this time. “Sylus!”

“You’ll see them soon enough.”

Had he really brought presents? Had he wanted to sneak in to leave them while she was sleeping in the hopes that she wouldn’t notice? Her heart dropped when she thought about how many bags he’d been holding. “Please tell me they aren’t all for me.”

“They aren’t all for you.”

She didn’t believe him. She didn’t believe him for a second. One of the only things she had seen him get actually excited about when she had talked to him about the holiday was realizing that he could buy her presents without her being able to refuse. She had tried to get him to agree to some kind of limit on how much he could spend but she would have had more luck stopping the sun.

He stood up after a few moments and turned to her with an amused smile. “Kitten, it’s the holiday season,” he teased. “You’re the one that wanted to celebrate. You can’t get grumpy all because I am celebrating.”

She huffed and wriggled in the Evol’s binds. “Put me down.”

“No.”

She hadn’t expected him to but did he have to sound so pleasant when he said it? She shifted in the air before dropping when he was close enough to catch her. He lifted her up enough to plant a kiss on her forehead and he lingered again, slowly inhaling as he held her close. She dug her fingers into his shirt as his own tightened on her, holding her like she’d disappear if he didn’t.

He pulled away after a moment, amusement on his face. “If you’re still this grumpy, you need more sleep.”

Calli rolled her eyes as he strode toward her bedroom. “I’m not going to peek the moment you leave,” she said dryly.

“Good but I’m not leaving.”

She stared up at him as he set her on her bed and shrugged out of his jacket. “You told me you had a meeting today,” she accused. “Did you lie so you could sneak in here?”

“It wasn’t a lie. How do you know this wasn’t the meeting?”

She narrowed her eyes at him before rolling over to the other side of the bed. “You’re terrible.”

The mattress shifted as he joined her on it, gripping her hips to haul her back into him. He curled around her, arms sliding around her middle to keep her in place. Like he was keeping her from going to see what he’d added to the tree.

She rolled her eyes again but snuggled into the bed and him. His face was pressed into her neck, his lips moving on her skin with each breath. The position wasn’t anything new, if anything it was one he favoured when they shared a bed, but something felt different. He was tense and she didn’t think it had anything to do with the thought of her trying to find out what he’d brought. “Are you alright?” she asked softly.

He shifted behind her, somehow tucking himself closer. “I am now,” he said after a moment, his voice gentle against her ear.

Calli pressed her lips together and gently stroked along his forearm. She didn’t say anything as one of his hands slipped under her tank-top to press into her belly, his palm cool from being outside. A tiny squirm he stopped, huffing into her neck and nipping gently at her. “It’s cold,” she mumbled.

“It’ll warm up.”

Why hadn’t he been wearing gloves? A question for another time as she tried not to move. His thumb was slowly swiping back and forth, just grazing the underside of one of her breasts. But he wasn’t making a move to turn this into something more. If anything, he seemed to only want the comfort of being near her.

She thought about that for a moment. They’d seen each other over the last couple of weeks but it had been hectic. With her picking up as many extra shifts as she could physically handle and running around to get ready for the holiday, they hadn’t properly seen each other. Add to the fact that they were essentially in a long distance relationship, it had been...almost a week since she’d seen him last. When he’d come over to decorate? Had it already been that long? “Oh,” she said softly, her hand tightening around his arm.

Sylus hummed quietly behind her but she had a good idea he knew what she’d just figured out.

Forcing herself to let go of his arm, she went back to stroking him. She wasn’t a fool, she’d noticed almost right away how he liked having a hand on her, whether curled around her hip or spread across the whole of her lower back. How he practically purred when she would take his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together to keep them together. Or how he liked to settle her in his lap when they were alone, face buried in her hair while he held her close. He’d leapt all over it once she’d initiated these small acts of intimacy, almost craving the contact, and she’d ached at how touch starved he truly was.

Had he really come over to drop off the gifts or was it just an excuse to see her? Had he wanted to slip into her bed so she could wake up to him?

“You can come over more, you know,” she said softly, lightly scratching at him with her nails. “You don’t need a reason.”

“It’s your home, sweetie.”

“If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have added you to the security.”

He hummed again, brushing a kiss over her neck. His hand pressed a little firmer against her belly before he sighed. “You’ve gotten me addicted,” he said lowly. “It doesn’t feel right when you’re not there.”

Her heart tugged and she snuggled back into him. A week was hardly the longest they’d been apart since he’d come into her life but with the holiday approaching, it felt different being apart. “You could just stay here until the day,” Calli suggested.

“I would love to,” Sylus murmured, “but there’s still business to take care of.”

She pouted a little, covering the hand on her belly with her own. “It’s almost the holiday though.”

“And if I want to enjoy my present fully without distraction, I need to take care of my business first.”

Oh. That made sense. Heat still filled her cheeks at the idea that he was trying to clear his schedule completely so that they could be together.

“But, since my kitten offered, if I wrap up sooner than I expect, I’ll stay with you.”

She nodded, relaxing into the bed as much as she could. She didn’t doubt that he would try his best to get all of it done but she still had some shifts before the holiday so he’d be alone here some days. But warmth filled her at the thought of coming home to him being there, to getting to spend time with him like this as if it was a normal part of their lives.

#12daysofchristmas2024 #love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus x oc

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sinnabarmoth · 4 hours ago

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Tribute for the Dragon (6/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: After the events of the hot spring you take to avoiding Sylus. It goes well until your accidentally wander somewhere you shouldn't have been.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Read on AO3

“I am going to hurl myself off the mountain.” you muttered into your pillow. “I’m really gonna do it. I can’t go back out there and face him now. My only option is death now.”

You had been hiding back in your bedroom since that morning. You knew you technically had duties but you could not bring yourself to leave the room. When you thought about what happened back in the hot spring your entire body got heated.

It was one thing to have your own little forbidden fantasies that confused you but it was another to actually live them! You couldn’t act like Sylus wasn’t attractive. He was. If he were human then you probably wouldn’t be feeling so conflicted about it. But he is at least part dragon and while it looked like the only differences were cosmetic ones, you had not taken into account that there would be biological differences too!

He could really smell when you were aroused! That was beyond unfair! Now what were you supposed to do? Apparently if you got aroused you stunk up the entire mountain! You would reek and he’d know and how were you meant to go about your normal duties knowing that at any moment you could have a sudden fleeting desire and he’d pick up on it like a hunting dog tracking a rabbit!

Then his offer to help! Dear gods above, you were going to get aroused again if you thought of the implications.

Maybe it would be fine. You could survive this. Knowing what you knew now the lust would eventually fade and things could go back to normal. He’d get bored of teasing you and--

No. He would not get bored of teasing you. It was stupid to think otherwise. But he may at least stop making blatant comments about it at some point.

With that in mind you decided to be brave and go back to your work. You were just going to do your best to avoid Sylus until you felt that you could be normal about this again. And avoid him you did. You crept through the tunnels like you were a thief in the night. The moment you heard him you darted in the other direction.

When it came to preparing meals you cooked them, shouted that the food was ready, and took off again. And you knew that Sylus could tell that you were avoiding him. If he really wanted to he would come seek you out wherever you were. For whatever reason he was letting you play this out. Perhaps he found it humorous or maybe he understood why you were doing it and was giving you that space. It was impossible to say which was correct.

All you knew was that the thought of seeing him made your skin alight and your legs tremble. Honestly, knowing that he could sniff out your desire made you feel aroused more often now. It was like when your foot was itchy but you didn’t realise it was itchy until you thought about it. If he had never said anything you probably would have been fine.

You didn’t know how long you could keep this up. Something had to give.

Then one day you were walking about the mountain when you heard Sylus coming down the same hall. You panicked and ducked into the closest room to you. At the time you hadn’t noticed the X carved over the archway.

You ducked inside, pressing yourself into the shadows waiting for him to pass. You stared into the darkness of the room and slowly your eyes adjusted. It looked like an empty spacious room. The only thing you could make out was the glint of metal further in.

Your curiosity got the better of you, no longer worried about Sylus coming down the hall and got closer. In the wane light you were able to make out what was there. It was an old chest. No shiny adornments on it or anything, just plain wood and iron.

Why was this in here all by itself? You glanced back at the doorway. You didn’t hear Sylus. He must have passed by.

Slowly you hefted the lid, the hinges creaked loudly as if they had not been moved in years. Perhaps they hadn’t. You had to squint and angle the chest towards the light from the doorway but you could make out a few things inside. Most of it was some old books and clothes but there were two things that caught your eye. One was a large piece of what looked to be an eggshell and the other was a shining gold pendant. Pendant was the wrong word. The disc you held in your hands was as wide as a dinner plate on a chain as thick as a rope.

It was dazzling. It almost seemed to glow in the darkness, a thin shine of red coming off of it. The design on the face was simple but masterfully done. Swirling designs crisscrossed the surface into some looping star shape.

Why would Sylus keep something like this in here and not the hoard room?

“Are you done snooping?”

Shit!

You froze, dropping the pendant back in the chest and closing the lid. Sylus was standing behind you, silhouetted in the door. You couldn’t see his face against the shadows but the ice in his voice was indicator enough that he was pissed. “I told you not to come in here.”

“Sorry.” you blurted out. “It was an accident.”

“And was it an accident when you went through my things?” he stalked further into the room.

“No…I just saw the chest and my curiosity got the best of me. I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“Well, I hope it was worth it. Now get out.”

In all the time that you had been here, this was the only time you had heard him genuinely angry. Your heart clenched and you held your arms close to your chest.

“Yes, master.” you squeaked out and fled the room as fast as your feet could carry you.

You did not see Sylus for the rest of the day and this time it wasn’t because you were avoiding him. He had disappeared from the mountain again. The room, when you walked past it later, had been blocked off with a mountain of rubble. Whatever that room was, whatever was in that chest meant, it was clear that Sylus did not want you in there again.

You felt guilty about looking through his things. There was no excusing your actions and if you had been smarter about it you would have never touched that chest. You would have recognized you were in a room you shouldn’t have been in and left the moment you were sure Sylus was gone. But now he was angry with you and you did not know how that would affect things between you.

This was arguably worse than the whole masturbation debacle. At least you knew where you stood with him regarding that. Now, you were scared. Not of him. You didn’t think he would hurt you. But you were worried that he would put you at a distance now. What if all you ever were to him from here on out was a servant? What if he decided he didn’t want you around anymore? Would he send you back to the village?

“Damn it.” you sighed. “I have to talk to him.”

You searched the mountain but like you had suspected earlier, he was missing. Probably gone on another flight. You went to the entrance and sat down. He’d come back at some point and you’d be waiting.

~~~

Sylus had been trying to give you the space you so desperately wanted after what happened in the hot spring. You were embarrassed and nervous, he expected that. But he had been sure you would get over it in time. So he let you hide and run, partly amused by how nervous you were.

Then he had caught you in that room. There were few places he didn’t want you treading, most of them were for safety reasons. The room that you went into though trying to hide from him was one that he had marked off for personal reasons. What he kept in there was for his eyes only. At least it was until you opened that chest.

He had seen what you were holding and all he wanted was for you to drop it. Forget everything you had seen.

When you looked at him…what he saw…what he smelled even. You were scared. Scared of him. The sour stench followed you out of the room. He didn’t want that. You were never supposed to be scared of him.

He went to the chest, checking the contents inside and slammed the lid shut once more. He then blocked up the entrance so no one could enter again. There was no reason for anyone to be going in there. Never again.

That sour stench of your fear was still in the hall. “Damn it.” he didn’t want to be here when the mountain smelled like this. It only reminded him of that terrified look you had thrown at him. You had looked so helpless, so small. The only time he had seen you look half as scared was when you first came to the mountain in that ridiculously extravagant dress and the makeup that had sweated off your face. But then, that fear had never been directed at him. You had always been so strong and so brave about everything that happened to you.

With one look he was scared that he had destroyed the trust you had put in him. What if you wanted to return to the village now? If you were truly that unhappy he would let you go in an instant. But the mountain would be so quiet without you. He needed to correct this before you were too far gone. But he also needed to clear his own head first.

He stayed out in the sky, flying without direction. He hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until the sun started to set in the sky. He immediately turned back, hoping that he could catch you before you went to sleep.

It was dark when he returned. The mountain no longer smelled of your fear. And to his surprise, there you were.

You were at the mouth of entrance, propped against the stone wall, eyes closed as you slept. Had you been waiting for him?

“You didn’t need to wait out here,” he murmured to your sleeping face. He shook his head and gently scooped you up into his arms to take you back to the bedroom.

He had just gotten you back to the bedroom when you started to rouse, your eyes opened and squinted up at him. “Sylus? Where did you go?” you said through a yawn.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m back.” he set you on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” you rolled over to keep looking at him.

“I know you are. Go back to sleep.” he pulled the blankets up around you. He turned to leave but you caught him by his hand. “What is it?”

“I really am sorry. I don’t know what it was about that room or that chest that you didn’t want me to see but I do feel bad about going through it. I just…” your hand gripped his tighter, “I guess part of me looked through it because I wanted to know more about you.”

Sylus had not been expecting this. “What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling next to the bed so you were eye level.

“For as long as I’ve been here the most I feel about you is your name.” you said. “I don’t feel like I know anything else.”

“You wish to know my past?”

“Not even that.” you sighed, “I just want to know you. If I am to spend the rest of my life here, I may as well know the only person I may ever get to talk to.”

The rest of your life…

You weren’t asking to go back to the village. That’s all that mattered to him.

“That is fair enough.” Sylus said. “You may ask as many questions as you want, in the morning though. Then we can both get to know one another better.”

You smiled, it was sleepy and small but you had smiled at him. “Good.” your eyes closed again.

He looked down and saw your hand was still curled around his claw as you drifted on back to sleep. “What a strange little human you are.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #dragon sylus #lads dragon au

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peachhcs · 7 hours ago

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i feel like she’s got to realize at the end of the day she got two national titles with the school and three great seasons that’s so much she got there that she should take the offer because it’s her future and if she turns it down she may never get another offer

the side plot has begun 🤗 and my cliff hangers have returned

au masterlist

“wow..this is amazing, sweetie. we’re so proud of you,” ellen rushed out after reading the lengthy letter from the head coach. jim reread it more closely after looking at it from over his wife’s shoulder. samy embraced her mom, the excitement not as prominent on her features.

“this is so big for you. wow, i have no words,” the older woman laughed as she looked at the letter again, but she finally caught her daughter’s somewhat solemn expression.

“you don’t seem as excited?” ellen pointed out.

“no, no, i am. i am. i just..i guess i’m still processing it all. they’ve been looking at me since my freshmen year and they want me right away..” the girl trailed off a bit. she couldn’t believe a program like theirs had eyes on her since she was 18 and now they wanted her. of all people they wanted her on their team right away.

but at what cost? if samy signed on, she’d lose her last year at mich. what about all the friends she’s made? hannah? the two had plans for a house already next year. her teammates? she couldn’t just abandon those girls she’s spent so much time with? they needed her for her last year.

“are you thinking about not taking the offer?” jim approached the subject and samy flushed, burying her face into her hands.

“i don’t know. my mind’s been all over the place,” the younger girl admitted. she thought driving home to talk to her parents would help lead her in the right direction, but samy still felt incredibly lost.

“what would make you not wanna take it?” ellen wondered, her hand rubbing her daughter’s shoulder.

“everything i’ve built at mich. my senior year of college? hannah? the team? my last collegiate season with the program i basically helped build? there’s a lot,” samy rambled off and her parents exchanged a glance.

“and what would you lose if you didn’t take this offer?”

“maybe my only chance to go pro at a sport i love and have devoted my life to since i was like 12,” the brunette laughed a bit sadly.

“honey, we want you to make the best choice for yourself. this is such an amazing accomplishment right here. there’s people who see your talent and the skill you possess. remember when we were having a similar conversation about if you wanted to stick to hockey or take on soccer full time? back then, there wasn’t a pro league for women’s hockey yet and you knew soccer would bring you a lot more opportunity in the future. this is one of those moments, babe. a full offer right in front of you,” ellen said gently and samy sighed. she eyed the invitation again and everything in her mind was pulling her in two different directions.

“have you told your brothers yet? will?” jim asked and the girl shook her head.

“i haven’t told anyone except you guys.”

“maybe you should call them. they might have some insightful advice or a different perspective we aren’t saying,” her dad offered and samy knew he had a point.

her brothers always had something good to say, but she also knew they would tell her to take the opportunity. she knew will would tell her to because then they’d be closer if she moved out to california.

“yeah, i probably should,” samy nodded and her parents squeezed her shoulders.

“we’re gonna be proud of you no matter what you decide, okay? don’t think you’ll disappoint us if you decide to stay or go,” ellen whispered before sending her upstairs to have some space.

the brunette wandered back into her room, collapsing on her bed to just breathe for a second. she found her phone and trailed to the sibling group chat—a wash of deja vu hitting her back when she was calling her brothers to help her decide what college to go to. it was all so familiar being home in her childhood bedroom with no one but her parents downstairs.

luke joined the call first and then jack’s face appeared a second later in the same frame, “what’s up pop?” jack grinned.

“hi moose, hi rowdy,” samy smiled seeing them. luke readjusted his phone so she could see both of them on the couch together.

quinn connected a second later in his own apartment. he waved, “what’s up crew?”

“hey q-tip,” jack snickered at the nickname making quinn roll his eyes.

“i thought we talked about not calling me that,” the older boy said.

“we did, but i’m still calling you it,” the middle hughes snickered.

“i miss you guys. i wish you were here,” samy smiled sadly.

“uh oh, whenever baby hughes gets sappy, it means something’s wrong. what’s wrong?” jack immediately said and the girl flushed at how well he knew her.

“nothing bad..i just..” she trailed off and eyed the letter now on her desk, “i got an offer to play pro out in california,” she finally got out.

the three boys’ eyes widened in disbelief.

“no fucking way. holy shit, samy! that’s awesome!” luke quickly exclaimed.

“what team?” quinn asked.

“bay fc. apparently head coach montoya has been watching me since my freshman year and he wants me on,” the girl explained briefly which only heightened her brother’s excitement.

“holy shit, pop. that’s amazing. i always knew you had it in you,” jack grinned.

“but he wants me on right away which means i forfeit my last year at mich to move out to san francisco,” samy explained the downside.

“ah, the catch. there’s always a catch,” luke tsked.

“i mean that’s basically what moose and i did. we played at mich for two years before going pro. it sucks it has to be your last year but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” quinn rambled a bit and the girl nodded. she bit at her lip and luke quickly caught onto her expression.

“are you considering not taking it?” he voiced his thought out loud.

“you have to, sam. bay fc is a wicked good team. they’re like top eight right now. if the head coach has been watching you since freshmen year that has to mean something,” jack quickly cut in.

“i know, i know, i guess it’s just a lot to process right now. i mean how do i leave a program i helped build and bring two national titles home to? hannah? my teammates? my last year at mich in general. that’s not something i can just easily walk away from. it may be easy for you to say, jack because you never went to college,” the last part was a harsh dig and samy knew that.

“okay, okay, you’re right, pop. walking away from a team like that isn’t easy,” quinn stepped in before an argument escalated.

“sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” she quickly backtracked. her emotions were definitely getting the better of her right now.

“i get it, it’s not easy. you know everyone would want you to take it though, right? that team, your coach, hannah, they’d all want you to take that in a heartbeat after everything you’ve done for the school and the program,” jack came a little softer.

“does will know?” quinn wondered and the brunette shook her head.

“i haven’t mentioned anything. i drove home after getting the letter to tell mom and dad. you guys are the only people besides them who know right now.”

“well, he’s gonna be ecstatic that you’ll be so close by,” luke grinned and the girl flushed.

“but don’t make a decision just because you’ll be close to your boyfriend,” quinn said and the girl rolled her eyes a bit.

“and when have i ever done that?” she said, but the older boy shrugged.

“just reminding you.”

“what do you think i should do?” samy asked her brothers honestly.

“you know we can’t answer that for you, pop. it’s your choice. your life. your dream,” jack said and the girl nodded.

“but if you were me, what would you do?”

“i’d remember the really great three years i’ve had with my teammates and friends and let that carry me into the next chapter in my life. the legacy you’ve left there isn’t gonna be one anyone forgets, samy,” luke hummed.

the younger girl sighed knowing she had a lot to think about in the next three weeks. it should’ve been such an easy decision for her, but the idea of leaving behind everything she’s ever known in a place that’s built her family wasn’t as easy thinking about.

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bring-forth-his-sac · 1 day ago

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The Christmas Party - Chapter 4

Summary: after spending some days apart, you and Negan finally find a way to sort out your differences, and it involves a whooooooooole lot of balls

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, friendly competitive games, sexual innuendos

Word Count: 7.3k (I'm sorry, idk how tf this is getting so long)

Michonne likes her job. It’s cushy, which isn’t what most people would assume. But being principal of Alexandria High is something she fought for and something she earned. In many ways, it’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.

Not only that, but she gets to be closer to her kids. For the first time, Michonne can embrace the role of the classic mom—carpooling with her children, loudly saying “I love you” and reminding them not to forget their lunch as they all walk into the same building.

Carl doesn’t mind it much. At this point, he sees it more as an inside joke between himself and his stepmom.

Judith, on the other hand, still squirms every time she gets out of the car with Principle Grimes, her eyes darting around to see if anyone is taking notice.

Michonne doesn’t take offense though, she knows it’s because Judith is still adjusting to “big school”, eager to make a good impression during her first year.

She had to deal with a blunder last week between Gregory, Rosita and Sasha. Once again, it was up to her to clean up Gregory’s incompetence while he played victim.

If Michonne had her way, firing him would have been her first decree as principal. And he wouldn’t have been the last to be fired either. Michonne can think of a few she would’ve picked off straight away if it wasn’t for unfair dismissal laws.

Saying goodbye to both of her kids, she makes her way down the corridor, pretending not to hear the students going wild in some of the classrooms as they let out their energy before classes start. They’re more hyper than usual for a Monday but since this is the last week of classes, she understands the excitement.

Strolling into her office, she comes face to face with another ‘if only I could fire them without lawful reasoning’ candidate.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, no way Ricky Dicky got you this weird ass piñata for Christmas,” Negan giggles when she walks in, holding up a gift she got for her birthday.

“Carl, actually,” she corrects him, watching carefully to make sure he doesn’t drop the statue “and it’s a unicorn he and Judith painted, not a piñata”.

With raised eyebrows, Negan gently places it back down on the desk. “Well, shit, ain’t they… creative” he treads carefully, not wanting to piss her off.

“Is there a reason you’re lurking in my office?” Michonne gets straight to business, making her away around the desk and to her chair.

Negan sits opposite her, making himself comfortable “Well, it’s about the Christmas party”.

Michonne debates hiding her smirk but she can’t help it. Negan’s a man that always chooses to be cocky, so why shouldn’t she when she knows something he doesn’t?

Reading her smirk, Negan can’t help but scoff at himself. He’d been expecting a reaction like this.

“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid,” he mutters.

Michonne twirls a finger in the air, gesturing to her grin. “Oh, this?” she says, her smirk widening “It’s not because you think this whole thing is stupid. It’s because I know exactly what you’re about to say”.

Negan shifts in his seat, caught between feeling a little embarrassed and strangely intrigued. He crosses one leg over the other.

“Is that so?” he says, his tone casual but curious.

“I had a certain English teacher in here on Friday,” Michonne keeps her information vague “she may have mentioned the staff Christmas party as well”.

“Did she mention how she can’t keep her damn mouth shut? Or that she’s the control freak?” he interjects “actually, no I want to hear what she’s said about me and how she’s spinning this whole thing”.

Michonne huffs “Funnily enough I could say the same thing to describe you”.

He rolls his eyes, trying not to mumble anything under his breath in case she hears.

“Actually, she explained everything, from the text message to you deserting her. In fact I think she told me too much, usually when you bunk off your job, you don’t tell your boss” Michonne says, her tone level.

Negan nods knowingly “She has a tendency to keep running her mouth, even when she shouldn’t”.

“And she also asked if the staff party could be held somewhere other than the sports hall, since she tells me it’s essentially your hall,” Michonne continues “Which is odd, because I’ve never seen your name above the door”.

“It is my hall,” he snaps, his chest puffing out “everyone knows it is. My office is right next door —which has my name on the door— and out of all the coaches, I’ve been here the longest. So, yeah, my hall”.

Michonne just watches him, silently grateful she doesn’t have to deal with Negan more often. “Well, the party will still be held there, and when it comes to the two of you constantly clashing, I’ll say to you the exact same thing I told her”.

Michonne pauses, making sure Negan is actually paying attention.

“Whether you help plan the party while she doesn’t, or she plans it while you don’t, or both of you just plan the damn thing,” she says, speaking slowly, hoping it’ll sink in “I. Don’t. Care.”

Negan clamps his mouth shut, holding back a curse. “That’s your big advice?” he questions, incredulity in his voice. “Seriously?”

He’s met with a flat look “Negan, it’s a Christmas party. Let’s not overcomplicate things ”.

Leaning back in her chair, she glances over the paperwork she should be working on “I’m not going to force you two to work together. If you’re not that interested in helping, then don’t and let another coach help when it comes to setting things up in the hall. Simple as that.

Michonne picks up a pen and begins writing on one of the pages in front of her, giving him the sign that they’re done here.

This is easier than Negan expected. Where’s the whole “you need to work together for the sake of Christmas party magic” speech? The guilt trip about teamwork and holiday cheer?

He expected more pushback, more of Michonne’s insistence that they both need to cooperate and sing kumbaya.

But instead, it’s just… simple. She doesn’t care.

And, sure, they both irritated the hell out of each other, but now that they’re not being forced into the same space, he finds himself missing it a little. He had started getting into a rhythm—annoying her, sparring with her and slowly picking up on her banter.

It had become a game of sorts, and he’d almost gotten good at it.

But then again, he did walk away from her. And she never came crawling back with an apology, so maybe this is for the best. Neither of them had the patience to stick it out.

After a few seconds, when Negan doesn’t move, Michonne stills her movements. “I can hear you breathing,” she comments, keeping her head down and reading through the sheets on her desk.

“So?”.

“So, I’m busy? Go get ready for class— oh, actually, while I have you here,” Michonne looks over at him and Negan can see the shift from bored principal to fiery mama bear.

He stands, getting ready to leave.

Pointing her pen at him, she keeps her voice calm and steady “You make fun of Carl’s eye again and I’m giving the Coach Smith that actually does his job, your office”.

Negan knows better than to test her, or to even let a word alip about how Coach Mark Smith is off tanning in Jamaica, something he definitely doesn’t consider “doing his job”.

Straightening up, he gives a quick nod and mutters a simple, “Yes, Ma’am,” before hightailing it out the door.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

What’re you on now? Plan C? Or D?

Plan A went out the window with your pettiness, when you decided to plan the Christmas party just to spite Negan.

Plan B, trying to work with Negan, crumbled and left you stranded at Target. You owe Carol big time for driving out and collecting you. Although you hope the amount of cookies you baked with her afterwards means that you’re both even.

Plan C… well, that hasn’t technically failed, nor has it gotten you off the hook, thanks to Michonne being indifferent either way.

And now that's brought you on to plan D, which so far has been giving constant reassurance to a fully grown man.

“I don’t think I should be doing this,” Joey’s bottom lip wobbles and for a moment, you genuinely believe you’re about to see a tear roll down his stubbled cheek.

“Joey, you’re just helping me measure” you reply, holding onto the other end of the measuring tape as the wary man makes his way down to the other end of the hall.

You came to work today with a plan. After avoiding Negan for the remainder of last week and having the weekend to get your shit together, you’ve decided that you’re going to continue planning this party.

The major difference now?

You’re doing it from your own free will, not letting accidental texts or pettiness be the driving force… although in saying that, you also didn’t want to deal with Gregory’s passive aggressiveness.

So after a quick stop at Negan’s office before he arrived, you side-stepped into the sports hall next, and found your new helper, Joey.

“Yeah but…” he hesitates to even say his name “Negan doesn’t know you’re here, and if he finds out I’ve let you in here…”.

In a sense, you feel bad for Joey. It’s his first year at Alexandria High too but he’s already been indoctrinated into the Negan cult, which consists of Negan, Joey and whoever Negan’s trying to swoon for the week.

“Classes start in twenty minutes, he isn’t even here yet,” you attempt to comfort him for the fourth time this morning “besides, you’re just helping me get measurements, this isn’t the end of the world”.

“Yeah, but I don’t want Negan to think I’m betraying him by doing this, or that I’m choosing your side over his,” Joey babbles and you try not to take offense “I asked him last Friday how the planning was going for the party and he— jeez, if you saw the look on his face when I mentioned you!”.

Gulping, you shift slightly and try to change topics “Are you at the end of the hall?”.

“Oh!” Joey stoops down and presses the end of the tape to the wall “Ok, ready!”.

You write down the measurements in your notebook before calling Joey back.

Unfortunately, he continues to ramble. “I mean, it was like his whole face changed when I mentioned your name! I was just asking about it cause I was wondering if he got into your pants yet but damn, you must’ve turned him down bad!”.

You wonder if this is how irritating you sound when you ramble.

As Negan walks down the hallway to his office, he lets out a long breath. No more Christmas party for him. It’s someone else’s problem, whether or not that be his favourite love-to-hate and hate-to-love English teacher.

He tunes out the chatter coming from the sports hall, not in the mood to deal with teens who’ve sneaked in before class for a quick game of basketball.

He enters his office and takes a moment to drop his bag onto the chair, releasing a long sigh. Like shit he would ever leave Michonne give Mark his office. At this point, Negan’s sure he has squatters rights.

He removes his winter coat and casually tosses it over the old coat rack. Despite the cluttered state of his desk, it's organized in a way only he seems to understand. Negan knows exactly where everything is but something’s… off.

Something’s different.

His gaze shifts to the small pumpkin statue from Target, its green stalk hidden beneath a tiny Christmas hat. Negan frowns, frustration creeping in. Dammit.

This guilt-tripping crap shouldn’t work on him. And it won’t. You can buy him the pumpkin but it doesn’t change how you have a bad habit of blurting out the wrong thing at the worst possible time.

Still, he can’t remember the last time someone bought him an actual present. His colleagues never get him anything, unless you count glares. His students skedaddle out of his class the second they have the chance, his only gift there being the peace and quiet they leave behind.

It must’ve been Lucille who last got him a gift, years ago. His leather jacket to be exact. He rarely wears it to work, not wanting some kid’s dirty paws to taint it.

That’s just for him.

After he walked out on you at Target, you’ve both kept your distance, neither one willing to make the first move. But now, it's a new week, with the staff party only a few days away.

And here sits a little pumpkin on his desk, it's Christmas hat perched jauntily on top. With a low hum, Negan flicks the hat of the pumpkin as he heads out of his office, his sixth sense tingling.

Letting the other end of your measuring tape zip back into place, Joey strolls the width of the hall back to you.

“So, you not a fan of the lanky type?” he asks, shrugging with as much nonchalance as he can muster “Since you rejected Negan and all”.

It's a real talent suppressing your cringe that fast. You force a tight-lipped smile, trying to set the record straight.

“I never rejected— I mean, I would have if he—look, Joey, I don’t judge people or decide whether I’m attracted to them based on their—"

“Prefer them with some meat on their bones?" he cuts in, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth when you can't come up with a satisfactory answer.

You’re about to let out a defeated sigh but then you wonder if you can use this to your advantage.

"You know what really gets me going?" you ask, the words alone making Joey’s face go bright red. "A guy who isn’t afraid of what others think, who’ll help people without worrying if it pisses off... oh, let’s say a meaner, older man”.

Before Joey can even respond, a suspiciously cheerful voice cuts in from the doorway.

"There ain't no way I've just walked in on some dirty talk," Negan grins, leaning against the frame with that trademark smirk of his "And to make it even better, you're describing me, sweetheart! Damn, I didn’t realise I turned you on so much”.

Your jaw clenches but you try to keep things cordial. “Negan,” you give a small nod in greeting “I was just leaving”.

He glances over at the numbers written on your open notebook. “Oh, very busy, I see,” he remarks, before deciding that’s enough small talk “how about we have a chat?”.

“About what?” Joey asks, still standing there.

You glance at Joey, but it’s Negan’s pointed look that makes him realize he’s intruding.

“I’ve got a class in here in about…” Negan checks his watch “ten minutes. How about you head to the storage room, grab whatever balls are in there, and line them up for me? I’ll let the kids blow off some of that pent up Monday morning energy with a game of dodgeball”.

Before Joey can protest, Negan tosses him the keys. Joey fumbles, barely catching them as he hurries off.

“You got it, si— bos— I mean, Negan!” he takes off down to the dusty storage room on the far side of the gym.

“Jesus Christ,” Negan lets out a low chuckle “I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to call me Daddy yet”.

A disgusted scoff leaves your throat and you grip your notebook a little tighter, ready to leave. And yet you want to stay, just to hear what Negan has to say.

Negan crosses his arm, eyes locked somewhere in the middle distance as Joey unlocks the storage room and disappears inside. You stay in your spot a few paces away from Negan, feeling the weight of the silence pressing on you, unspoken words hanging in the air.

After a long pause, he speaks in a much more serious tone “You know, you’re really good at pushing buttons”.

Putting a hand up to stop him, you quickly clarify “The pumpkin is just a peace offering. I’m not expecting us to get along but I don’t want us to be at each other’s throats for the rest of the school year either”.

Joey hurries out of the with some basketballs and places them in a line along the centre of the hall before going to get more.

“I get it, I’m not your favorite person—hell, I’m not anyone’s favorite person,” Negan continues once Joey’s gone “but at Target… damn, you don’t have to go there. Not like that”.

Sighing, you avoid eye contact. The words still feel fresh on your tongue but you know you have to face them.

“I didn’t mean to go there,” you reply “I just… I imploded and I don’t want to excuse it by saying you pushed me to it… I could’ve been more careful with what I said”.

Your stomach drops when you hear him laugh bitterly. There’s no real humor behind it and your defenses go up in an instant. The warning lights are starting to light up in your head.

“You’ve got a hell of a way of showing that,” he pauses, biting back something sharper “It’s… it’s not that simple for me and I get it, I’m an asshole. But to bring her up when I take it too far? Or piss you off just a little too much?”.

Some footsteps echo behind you as Joey drops more balls down in the middle of the room, heading back into the storage room and not noticing a battered handball roll over to join your conversation with Negan.

You watch as it rolls closer.

Shifting from foot to foot, Negan folds his arms. “I mean, shit, I know I shouldn’t have driven off without you but what do you expect me to do after you said that?” he asks.

A flicker of that well known frustration bubble before you sigh. “Maybe I expected you to—I don’t know—talk to me instead of running away every time things get tough? I don’t say these things to be a jackass to you, Negan, I say it because… well, yeah I’m pissed off but also because no one else has the balls to say it to you”.

The handball nudges your shoe.

“No pun intended” you add, a thought springing into your head.

You can see your walls going up, and the same with Negan. It’s a toxic cycle of annoying each other and then escalating it whenever you try to hear the other person out. You can tell he’s getting annoyed again just by rehashing it.

Time for Plan E… which you may or may not have just made up now impulsively.

Getting restless, Negan switches to putting his hands on his hips “I do talk, damn it, but you just—”.

WHAM!

Before Negan can finish, a handball comes flying from your direction, slamming right into his chest with a loud thud. He stumbles back, eyes wide in surprise.

Negan doesn’t have to feign any shock. Not when that’s just happened. But he’s not angry about it. If anything, the random ball attack has made him break his serious streak.

“Goddamn, woman! What the hell was that for?!” he looks at you, bewildered.

You let your notebook fall to the floor and take a few steps back, edging towards the centre of the hall.

“Ever since you deserted me, you’ve been dodging me so I figured you’d be good at dodging that too” you shrug.

Placing a hand dramatically over his chest, Negan glares at you, though the playful anger in his eyes betrays any real frustration. “Really? A damn handball?” he tuts “The one time I’m tryin’ to be serious, and this is what I get?”.

You stop when you feel a soccer ball nudge the back of your shoe, letting you know you’ve successfully made it to the halfway mark of the hall.

“You piss me off,” you state the obvious “I piss you off. We piss each other off so fucking much and I am sick of it! Talking it out is just making us both angry again and that’ll lead to one of us saying something stupid – again”.

To show you mean business, you pick up the soccer ball. Joey, confused as ever, just continues with the job Negan gave him.

“We both fucked up, I get that and I am sorry, Negan,” you say solemnly before huffing “but fuck! You just annoy me so much! And ’cause of that, I think we should just get this out of our systems… so, you game?”.

The hint of a smile creeps up on his face, playful offence melting into amusement.

“Y’know when two people need to get something out of their system, this ain’t the kinda balls that’re involved, sweetheart,” with a grunt he bends over and picks up the handball.

You don’t move, fingers strumming against the soccer ball. Joey inadvertently fills up your supply of ammo by bringing out a few more balls out.

“Are you seriously gonna make me play dodgeball to work this out?” Negan calls your bluff, narrowing his eyes at you as he rolls his shoulders.

“Unless you’re too scared”.

Damn you. Negan smirks, knowing full well you know he’s not about to turn this down. His eyes gleam with mischief “Scared? Hell no, I just—”.

Hoping you wouldn’t be expecting a ball hurled at you mid-sentence, Negan throws the handball, narrowly missing your head. It smacks off the ground and you gulp, releasing he’s not about to take it easy on you.

“…I just needed to warm up. Let’s do this,” Negan swings his arms to the side, stretching “Joey! Throw a few down this direction”.

As if signaling the start of a war, three balls roll past you and come to a stop at Negan’s feet, their new commander in chief. The second he bends down to grab one, you seize your chance.

Without hesitation, you send the soccer ball hurtling through the air.

What follows is pure chaos— dodgeball in its most frantic form. Balls fly in every direction, slamming into walls, ricocheting off bleachers, and nearly knocking over everything in sight.

You dive to the side, narrowly dodging one of Negan’s throws, which sails through the air and wallops against the wall.

Neither of you is holding back now. Negan cackles, the sound of his laughter filling the hall as he effortlessly dodges another ball.

Joey, meanwhile, has wisely retreated to the safety of the storage room, peeking out from behind the door.

He cowers, half-hidden, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut and trap him in there, caught between wanting to stay out of the chaos and not wanting to be accidentally locked inside.

Negan laughs in between throws, his enthusiasm spurring you on. “Goddamn! This is one cruel and usual punishment, doll” he pants, a wide smile gracing his face.

It’s odd to see him so happy. Not smirking or smiling just to get under your skin. He’s like a dog that’s finally been let out to run wild, truly in his element.

Trying a new tactic, you throw a ball low to the ground, hoping to get his legs but Negan effortlessly leaps over it.

“Well, if you didn’t cut our argument short then you wouldn’t be getting a face full of balls” you throw another, aiming for his head. He dodges it, bouncing his own ball off the ground as he readies his aim.

Negan grins before tossing the ball straight at your chest. You barely catch it, smiling back at him triumphantly.

“I get it, alright? I was being an ass leaving you stranded… and for trying to wind you up so much beforehand,” Negan shockingly gives a genuine apology “But you can’t just throw stuff at me and call it a ‘game’!”

Bouncing on your heels, you think carefully of your next move. Sure, you’re a little out of breath but this is the most fun you’ve had all month.

“I can if it makes you listen,” you quip back before issuing another apology of your own “look… I didn’t mean for what I said to be so harsh, okay? I was just mad. I don’t want to be that person, but sometimes you’re so damn stubborn… it gets under my skin”.

Negan slows his movements, watching you carefully for a second. The playful energy fades just enough to let sincerity peek through.

“I’m sorry, you’re sorry, can we go back to planning this awful party now?” he asks, surprising even himself by still wanting to help with this damned thing.

Throwing the last ball at him, you manage to catch Negan off guard and hit him square in the shoulder. “One condition, you actually put in some effort” you reveal your single demand.

“No promises but I’ll try. Alright?”.

With a half-hearted laugh, you step away from the ball and approach your opponent.

“Alright” you stick out your hand. Negan looks down at your hand, back up at you and finally, he shakes it.

There’s a moment of quiet, both of you catching your breath as the ridiculousness of the game breaks the tension between you. “I gotta say,” you pant slightly “you’ve got one hell of a throw”.

He laughs, nudging one of the balls to roll back toward the center of the room. “What can I say, I’m good with my hand” that familiar smirk is back, but surprisingly, it doesn’t irk you as much as it did before.

Still, you can’t resist sending a playful glare in his direction. Just to keep him on his toes.

Joey hesitantly steps out from the storage room, glancing around nervously. You watch as he clings to the door, ready to duck and dive at the slightest threat.

“Is it over? Who won?” he asks, his voice cautious.

Negan looks over at him, a grin still on his face. “The school did,” he calls out “considering it’s still got us two fucks planning this party”.

You glance back at Negan, finding his eyes still locked on you, studying you with an intensity that makes something stir in your chest.

His voice lowers, smooth and almost too casual, as he asks, “If I call you later, will you pick up? To talk about the Christmas party, of course.”

You let a slow smile spread across your face, leaning into the moment. “I might reject your call, just out of instinct,” you tease, feeling the playful tension in the air.

Joey, clearly happy the dodgeball war has finally ended, at least for now, yells over with a grin, “You should definitely pick up!”.

You raise an eyebrow at the advice but there’s a warmth in your smile. “Like you said,” you nudge Negan lightly, the hint of something more lingering in your voice “no promises, but I’ll try”.

And with that, the mood between you both lightens, the game being an unexpected but fitting resolution to all the unspoken things between you.

From the doorway, Negan’s class of teens wait, unsure whether this is something that should be interrupted.

A mixture of horror and amusement is plastered across their faces. “You owe me ten bucks,” Ron leans over to Carl and whispers “I told you they’re definitely banging”.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Alexandria High’s Teachers Midlife Crisis Support Line keeps you entertained after school. You had a few last minute presents to pick up and get ready for shipping, hoping an influx in gifts back to your parents will ease the blow of you not being home this Christmas.

It’s a topic you try not to think about, let alone mention it to any friends you have here. And by ‘friends’ you do mean work colleagues , considering you haven’t exactly done a lot of socializing since you moved here.

Reading the steady flow of messages helped ease the guilt of not travelling home though. And, you were actually given a reason to interact and send in some of your own messages!

Most of it was you letting the others know more details about the party; what time to be there, dress code, are plus ones allowed.

Bustling up to the door of your apartment, you quickly send a text saying the party will start at 6 as you make your way inside.

You don’t even have time to shut the door behind you when your phone pings with a private message.

Negan: isn’t 6 too early?

You: I thought it was a little late actually

Negan: sounds like you’ve been to many parties

Negan: lol

Asshole. Ever since group chat started buzzing with life, Negan has been sharing his running commentary with you.

He still hasn’t sent a text into the group chat but seems to have no problem reading what’s being said and sending his thoughts to you in private messages.

Kicking off your shoes and turning on the lights to your place, you decide to leave him wait for a response. Right now, your main priority is getting a well nourished dinner… which means microwaved popcorn and watching whatever Christmas movie you can find on Netflix.

Poking the time into the microwave, you wander from room to room; going into the bedroom and quickly changing into some pyjamas, going to the bathroom to snag a few wipes for your make-up, before heading back to the kitchen, just in time to stop the microwave.

You: wow I didn’t realize you were aching for another round of balls being thrown at you

With your Christmas lights on, snacks at the ready and big glass of soda, you settle in for the night when… ping!

Negan: for that, you’re not getting your Christmas present until after the break

You debate throwing your phone onto the other side of the couch and simply ignoring him but he is unfortunately entertaining.

You: your the literal grinch, I know you didn’t get me anything

It may have taken a while but you can finally feel yourself relaxing when it comes to Negan. Maybe all you both needed was the game of dodgeball to get past all that previous turbulence.

You’re understanding his sense of humor, how he’ll flirt just for the hell of it and how he’s all bark and no bite. If you don’t fall for his charms and throw yourself at him after his first few attempts, Negan just flirts for fun.

Holding your phone in one hand, you use your remote to navigate through the tv channels with the other, stopping when you get to the Netflix app. With a ping, your attention is back to your other hand.

Negan: are you asking me to roleplay? ;)

First off, ew. Secondly, what the fuck, why does he have to make it weird? Well, maybe that’s the winky face’s fault but either way, you sneer at the message. You keep your response short, sweet and to the point.

You: perv

He responds immediately.

Negan: That’s not a no. I’ll even bring my santa hat

You: you’re right it’s not a no, it’s an absolutely NOT

You: and a Santa hat isn’t grinchy enough

Getting flooded with notifications, your attention is briefly brought back to the teachers group chat.

Glancing at the top of your screen, you catch fragments of the ongoing conversation. Eugene and Aaron seem to be deep in a back-and-forth, trying to settle what the true definition of "casual attire" really is.

Negan: yes it is, he wore one in the movie

Negan’s private message grabs your attention and you try to ignore what’s happening in the group chat, for now.

You: still not grinchy enough

You stare at your phone for a few moments but there’s no reply. Oh well. Directing your attention back to the tv, you open Netflix and begin browsing for some stereotypical Christmas romance.

Across town, Negan picks up his controller again, his eyes locked onto his tv screen as a new team deathmatch begins.

His fingers work swiftly, selecting his loadout with practiced ease. Negan’s character moves forward, entering a tornado of bullets and death.

He takes down two players in quick succession but before he can reload, some idiot with a rocket launcher blows him to pieces in a fiery explosion. Frustration bubbles up as he watches his character's remains scatter across the screen.

“Fuckin’ ass” Negan mumbles, checking his phone as he respawns.

Normally, Negan would have his headset on, letting the pent-up frustration of the day spill out as he argues with whatever tween is shrieking down their mic. But tonight he’s opted to go for a quiet evening.

Instead of unleashing his usual barrage of insults, he mutters them to himself under his breath.

As he fumbles to quickly type a message back to you, a smirk creeps across his face. He knows your reaction will be priceless. The way your eyes narrow and that subtle flush creeps up your cheeks whenever his teasing or flirting goes just a little too far.

You glance down at the message, and for a brief moment, your heart stops. You quickly look away, eyes darting to the search bar on your TV, trying to focus on anything else to steady your racing thoughts.

But after a deep breath, you force your gaze back to the screen, almost afraid to read it again.

The words are unchanged, still sitting there, but your mind can't seem to process them. It's the same message, and yet, you find yourself unable to believe it.

Negan: What if I bring my green fursuit? Is that good enough?

Weird message, sure, but that’s not the shocking part. Swiping open the message, it doesn’t bring you to your private conversation with Negan.

No, instead you’re taken to Alexandria High’s Teachers Midlife Crisis Support Line, where Negan’s message is there as clear as day.

Oh my god.

You can’t control your reaction, immediately going out of the group chat and to your contact info on Negan. Without a second thought, you hit call.

It rings once, twice and on the third ring, he answers. It’s like you have no autonomy anymore, simply letting your body work without any consultation with your brain.

Negan is in the midst of trying to figure out of to delete a messages when your call comes through. When he answers, your name alongside his note of (good ass, weird at flirting) which he will have to change later to (good ass, great throw) lights up as you laugh down the phone to him.

“Oh my fucking god!” you basically squeal “how the fuck did you do that? Oh my g-”.

You can’t finish your sentence before your own laughter cuts you off again.

He stays uncharacteristically quiet but that doesn’t hinder you. With your other hand, you have to drop the tv remote to clutch your stomach, a pain beginning to linger from the laughter.

“Now that, that has made my Christmas” you try to quieten your laughter and on the other end, you finally hear a chuckle.

“I mean, a green fursuit? Where the fuck did you come up with that?” you have to wipe a tear away.

“That’s the shit Jim Carrey had to wear,” his voice seems a little tight but he’s still chuckling “fuck’s sake, that’s it, I’m switching schools”.

Your laughter simmers down to a giggle “Quick, just delete the message before anyone else sees it!”.

“But how the fuck do I do that?” he blusters, a strange mix of self-assertiveness and panic coating his voice.

You know you should stop laughing by now but everytime you can feel yourself gain some control over your laughter, you think of the situation at hand and lose it again.

“Just… just hold down on the message and… and wait until the different tabs pop up a-and then… you just have to tap delete” you struggle to get the words out, holding your nose in one hand to stop yourself from snorting.

Now that’s something you know Negan would pick up on, immediately directing all attention to that instead of his hilarious blunder.

“Fine, I’ll try that” he says gruffly before hanging up. You continue to laugh the second he’s gone, flopping onto your side and burying your head into the couch cushions.

You drop your phone beside you, but only so you can stuff some popcorn into your mouth. Going for the phone again, you swiftly go back to the group chat to find the message has disappeared, and in its place a simple yet ambiguous message from the service provider.

*This user has deleted their message*

Before you can even tap out of the group, the phone starts to ring in your hand. You doesn’t waste any time answering, especially now that your giggles have subsided.

“It’s gone,” you tell Negan, trying your best to sound serious “now all it says is that you deleted a message”.

“But does it say the fuckin’ message?” he asks, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I literally just said it doesn’t,” you reiterate “do you listen at all?”.

Negan huffs loudly, muttering something under his breath. “And what was that?” you ask pointedly, wondering why you even answered the phone again.

His huff turns into something of a chuckle “My ears must be fuckin’ deceiving me cause it just sounded like you used your teacher voice on me”.

“And what if I did?” you challenge.

He chuckles again, before letting out a teasing scoff “How the hell am I the one getting scolded? Shouldn’t you be tryin’ to comfort me for that shit? I mean, I’m fuckin’ traumatised over here”.

“You’re not the only one traumatised, did it say who saw the message?” You pop some more popcorn into your mouth.

“How the fuck would I know that?” Negan asks, leaving the lobby he’s in and going back to the game’s home screen.

“Damn, your age is really showing now,” you mumble but make sure to say it loud enough for him to hear “you swipe the message and it shows you who’s read it and who hasn’t yet… but you can’t do it now since you deleted it”.

You may or may not have gone up an octave when you said that last part just to tease him.

“Well, that’s dumb. What’s the point in knowing how to do that when I can’t do it now?”.

“Because I thought you’d have the initiative to check before you deleted it,” you goad “jeez, how old are you? You really know fuck all about technology”.

Negan retorts an equally goading reply, causing you both to quickly fall into their routine of bickering back and forth. “How old am I? I think that only matters if you have a thing for older men” he quips back.

“Only for older men in green fursuits” you tease.

“That can be arranged”.

Staring at the search bar, your perfect romantic Christmas movie so close yet so far away, your attention drifts away from the TV as you prop your feet up comfortably.

The next half hour slips by effortlessly. The conversation flows easily, a mix of casual banter and more personal exchanges, the kind of talk that somehow feels natural between you two. Time seems to slow as you get lost in the rhythm of the conversation, the world outside fading away for just a little while.

Negan raises an eyebrow, balancing his phone between his shoulder and neck.

“And should I even bring up the staff party?” he asks with a grin. Another round of gunshots echo in the background but this time, you don’t question it. Negan’s already had to fill you in on his unconventional form of therapy; video games.

“Ugh,” you sigh “I think the decorations are mostly done. I grabbed a few more things while I was out earlier… but honestly, the worst part is going to be setting it all up on the day. Other than that…”.

You think of the list in your notebook. “We still have food and drink to figure out” you recall “we gotta sort out music too but I was hoping we could just use the speakers in the sports hall? Just plug in a phone and turn on someone’s Christmas playlist“.

You hold your breath, bracing for the inevitable disagreement. You can already imagine the gruffness in his voice, the hard veto against it as Negan huffs and puffs “My speakers in my hall?! Never! I ain’t letting their dirty hands anywhere near my sound system!”.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Negan replies, to your surprise.

“Really?” You pause, wondering if this qualifies as a Christmas miracle.

“Uh-huh,” he continues, another round of gunfire crackling through the phone. “The other Coach Smith owns the speakers, so we get full reign of them. Besides, it’s the least he can do while he’s off spending the holidays in Jamaica”.

That makes more sense.

“So that just leaves food and drink” you smile, feeling a little more hopeful about the party.

Negan lets out a long sigh as the match ends. Getting up, he holds his phone properly as he wanders to the kitchen for a beer.

“Buying the booze will be fine,” he dismisses “we just gotta go clear the shelves of a liquor store, pick up a bit of everything”.

You nod along. “Yeah, the booze will be the easier of the two… but the food, on the other hand…” You trail off, sucking in air through your teeth.

“Can’t we get the home ec teachers to do it?” he suggests casually “Carol’s fine. She’ll be a hardass about it, but she’ll probably do it”.

“I think I’ve run out of favors with Carol,” you admit “she was the one who picked me up from Target after you pulled that whole disappearing act”.

Negan pulls a face despite you not being able to see. “So just cold finger food snacks, then?” he suggests.

“Yeah, that works,” you agree reluctantly, then suddenly remember “Actually! Speaking of food… did you hear about Gregory eating a student’s pancakes?”.

Negan lets out an amused chuckle, taking another sip of his beer. “Jesus Christ, you really are a gossip” he shakes his head, the action more affectionate than he’d like to admit.

You laugh “Oh, shush, you love it”.

By the time you’ve filled Negan in on the school gossip and finally hang up, you’ve finished your popcorn, something Negan quickly caught onto, feigning offense that you were snacking during the call.

After exchanging a dozen “goodbyes”, you finally hang up, letting out a long breath.

You glance at the search bar on your TV, offering it a sympathetic look before you turn the screen off, resigning yourself to the fact that it’s time for bed.

Negan finishes his beer, the empty bottle clinking against the counter as his gaming system automatically switches to standby mode. He stretches, then heads towards his bedroom.

As he pushes open his bedroom door, he chuckles to himself, imagining how chaotic things would’ve been if you were actually here with him and not just a voice down the phone— discussing party plans, laughing over gossip, probably snacking in the middle of it all.

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and for a brief second, there’s something deeper in his eyes. But it’s something he doesn’t let himself dwell on.

The thought of you here, next to him, fills him with a longing he can’t shake and yet he yearns to bury deep deep down. He sighs softly, the quiet of the room settling around him as he pushes the thought away and drifts off to sleep.

#negan fanfiction #negan smith fanfiction #negan x reader #negan x you #twd negan #negan #negan smith #negan twd #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jdm x reader #the walking dead negan #twd fanfiction #twd #twd fic #twd x reader #negan imagine #negan smith x female reader #negan smith x you

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sonicpilled · 2 days ago

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Pull You From Your Guilt (Zombic Au)

Chapter Four - “Safe”

content warnings: detailed self harm scene, please read with caution

word count = 3083

sonic+shadow !

“As Shadow slipped through the crowd with Sonic in his arms, the cries and yells of the civilians fuzzed his mind. This muffled noise, it overwhelmingly calmed him down. To him, as long as he had his hedgehog with him, it would be fine. Fine enough, at least. Everything was going to be the minimum amount of okay. Said hedgehog was not having it. It was justified, of course. He could run just fine, if not faster than Shadow.”

updated after a Year.. thank you for the support nonetheless .! also i added chapter titles to the other chapters if u wanna go check them out

enjoy or hate..,,,,

The air cooled the panic sweat on both of their bodies as they fled, the fall leaves with dead colors fell to the ground around them.

As Shadow slipped through the crowd with Sonic in his arms, the cries and yells of the civilians fuzzed his mind. This muffled noise, it overwhelmingly calmed him down. To him, as long as he had his hedgehog with him, it would be fine. Fine enough, at least. Everything was going to be the minimum amount of okay. Said hedgehog was not having it. It was justified, of course. He could run just fine, if not faster than Shadow.

“Dude, c’mon, let go,” he struggled worriedly, while everything around him only confused him even further. His boyfriend’s jacket that he had been wearing ,that was supposed to be comforting, was quickly becoming overwhelmingly constricting.

Obviously, a disaster has happened. His eyes darted around the panicked city. Maybe this has something to do with Eggman? It usually does… one thought came across his mind, along with the many unwanted mental pictures of whoever it was that Shadow saw back at the house. Someone was hurt, badly hurt, and it irked him that Shadow wouldn’t even tell him who.

Again, with this treatment. Though he hated it, he wasn’t going to make his feelings a big deal again. There were bigger things to worry about .

Shadow took in heavy breaths, thinking deeply about where to go. His apartment building was most likely in the same frantic state as the streets were. This seemed to be a situation that had been unprepared for, unknown by the police as the ones that were alive looked as clueless as everyone else. Usually, attacks from Robotnik were just robots tormenting the city’s civilians. Of course there’d be chaos during something like this, but this… This was something bigger.

It didn’t take him much longer to figure it out.

He put two and two together, and He frowned deeply at the mess around him. Looking closer into the faces in the crowd, seeing the decaying bodies of people who were once…people, attacking the afraid and fearful. As he glanced back at the undead thing wearing his jacket, the frown on his face only worsened. This was all too good to be true.

This wasn’t a miracle. This wasn’t just a magical reunion with his late boyfriend. It was the start of something horrible. He shook his head in disbelief, hating himself for not having seen it coming all while knowing this would turn out to be something bad. A zombie apocalypse, of some sort, had formed since Sonic’s return. How and why Sonic hasn’t been behaving like the monsters among them is a question Shadow doesn’t want to put too much thought into. Not now, atleast.

He sighed, making a swift turn around a corner from the overwhelming noise and boarding outside the city. Sonic just held onto him a bit tighter, closing his eyes as his eyebrows creased with worry.

There’s a specific spot nearby that Shadow knew wouldn’t be crowded; A blocked off area on the beachside . It was a place that Sonic had first shown him, when they’d hide away from the world to be together. He’d been there with him many times in the past, hence the little heart around an ‘S + S’ his boyfriend scratched into the frayed metal fence they’d climb through to sneak in. So stupidly sweet…

As he finally set Sonic down to his feet with a huff, he gently took his hand and brought him through that entrance in the gate like they had always done before.

Sonic let himself be guided into that familiar place. The soft, white sand of the beach on his bare feet, the quiet waves of the light purple-blue ocean that were luckily too far to touch him, the seashells that washed up that lay prettily by the shore. It could have been a paradise.

They both looked at each other as they drew in deep breaths, holding eachothers hands. As Sonic glanced at the small waves, Shadow carefully interlaced his fingers with the other’s.

“…i know what this is,” they both said softly, then frowned at the same time. Shadow pulled him into a soft hug, nudging into that little space above his shoulder. Sonic took in the next familiar thing, that faint lavender and coffee bean scent, as he leaned into his touch.

“How… How can we fix this? I mean, I started this.,” Sonic said gently, “ive seen so much messed up stuff. but . a zombie outbreak? i never thought itd happen., i dont get it. and i usually get things. what can we even do?”

“We have saved the world before . It’s going to be fine.” Shadow spoke quickly, almost trying to convince himself . subconsciously, he was already softly petting Sonic's head.

“I… You’re right, actually. I won't doubt myself. Or you.” he said with a smile he carefully put on his face, pulling away from the other. but he knew the truth. He was already thinking of a billion doubtful thoughts. Usually, they had saved the world from a defined threat. The biolizard, perfect chaos, etc. But something like this? It felt completely out of his hands. Shadow felt his heartbeat as it picked up a fast pace, and knew already that he was overthinking again.

“Sonic. Trust me. We’ve both gone through terrible things. There can be a solution. it will be alright in the end,” he reassured , his gloved hands coming up to cup the other’s face. “It’s… usually you’re the one giving a pep-talk like that, you know. Let’s.. go somewhere, and make a plan along the way. Follow me.”

“Yeah, okay , sure.” Sonic said reluctantly , as he slipped out of the leather jacket he needed to get out of, and handed it back to its owner. Shadow gave a knowing look, putting on the jacket and adjusting the green scarf he had on.

Shadow leaned down to gently kiss his cheek , and then gestured to him to follow. Sonic smiled wide, quickly heading off alongside his boyfriend.

It was going to be fine.

He stepped on the soft sand until he reached the end of the quiet beach and on dry yellow grass. His foot must’ve got caught on the cold wired fence as he was climbing out.

The hedgehog tugged his foot away, only giving the peaceful beach one last look. The sky was a dull purple, the moon faintly visible as the sun lowered. He sighed softly, before following Shadow back into the city.

The city's chaos seems to have died down, given the faint silence. There was smoke coming from car wrecks, bodies on the ground, and the … ‘undead,’ roaming about. Faraway gunshots could be heard, and Shadow rubbed his temple as he shook his head slightly.

He pulled Sonic close to him with one hand, as he rummaged through his quills with the other. He pulled out a glowing jewel, and quickly said the words,

“Chaos control!”

Sonic gasped briefly, as they were both flashed outside of a… storage unit? He blinked, watching Shadow hide the chaos emerald back to its place, then pull a key out from those black and red spikes. It had a cute little keychain of a certain blue hedgehog hooked onto it. Seeing it made Sonic snicker lightly, before he waved his own laughter away so he could ask something before he got completely distracted.

“Wait, wait, wait. If you had a chaos emerald before, why did you have to carry me around the city like a baby.??.” Sonic questioned quickly, pointing accusingly.

“I wanted to see how bad the mess in Westopolis was. I could only hear it faintly, and I had a feeling it would be terrible, Especially after seeing….” he trailed off, shaking his head as he stuck the key in the lock of the roll up door and twisted it. “Anyways, these supplies I have kept here should be useful for this, err, zombie apocalypse.”

Sonic narrowed his eyes slightly, before fixing his face like he usually did and nodded gently. A small frown lingered before he shook it off. “yeah, totally.”

As Shadow rolled the door up, Sonic tilted his head slightly. A bunch of dusty old cardboard boxes were neatly placed in the dull, gray room. Organized by labels, which made Sonic walk over to read a few while Shadow looked for something. ‘First-aid’,.. ‘bullets’,.. ‘long-range’..?! Sonic stopped looking, as his eyes slightly widened.

“Shadow! You can’t stash your gun collection in a storage unit,” Sonic scolded as he went over to Shadow, who was scavenging intently, as he waved his hands about. “That’s illegal, dude!”

Shadow gave him a look, an eyebrow raised as he opened one of the boxes.

“Yeah, alright, whatever. I actually dunno. And I guess legality isn’t totally a huge problem right now,” he backed down, leaning back on a stack of cardboard boxes with a hesitant face. “but still, man!”

He rolled his eyes, as he lifted a bandolier from the box, and started putting in shiny, gold bullets. Sonic tilted his head to the side again, gently starting to tap his foot against the concrete floor.

“Is that… a bullet belt?” He asked softly . Shadow shook his head, a little excitement in his eyes.

“Bandolier. It’s usually worn by those who use shotguns, but I prefer assault rifles.” He said briefly, as he set down the object and picked one up from its own little case.

“Rifles?! Dude, why in the world would you need a rifle, don’t you have a chaos emerald already? You don’t need that kinda thing,” Sonic gasped, side-eyeing the weapon.

“It would be a large risk for me to be fighting the infected up close since you would be with me , therefore guns like this one would help greatly,” He reasoned, swiping the little dust off the firearm. He then swallowed, a bit of red to his face as he said his other reason very quietly. “And, um. I think they’re… Neat.”

Sonic huffed with a small smile, “Well. Alright..”

Shadow nodded, shaking off his embarrassment of his interest as he put the bandolier over his body and adjusted the black leather jacket and knitted green scarf he was wearing. He then glanced over at Sonic, then immediately became worried, his eyes a little wide with a soft frown on his face. “Sonic, your leg? Are you alright?”

“whuh? oh, I must've nicked it on the fence,” he said gently, already a tiny bit sad to hear that tone in Shadow’s voice. He looked down at his left leg. Completely cut and scraped to where bone be seen, a mixture of dark, dry blood and vibrant, new blood had covered the wound entirely. “holy shit ”

“Are you alright, Sonic? That’s… That’s hardly a ‘nick’. Can you even feel that?” Shadow asked again hurriedly, rushing over with a first-aid kit from one of the boxes. Sonic crossed his arms, digging his nails into his own skin without thinking as he watched his worry.

He stared at the gash with a small wince, confused. Though, it sort of made sense. “…No, actually.. There's no sting, or anything??“

Shadow sighed in relief, a slightly disgusted grimace on his face as he grabbed a roll of bandages from the little box and wrapped him up anyways. “…Well. Okay. I suppose that's a good thing.”

He got up from his crouched position, dusting himself off as he stood back and looked at Sonic. A chunk of his right ear was torn off, probably from the fence too. It had bled a little, staining the surrounding blue fur. He tilted his head a bit to the side. He shook off this visible worry, as he could see he was only aggravating Sonic by caring too much for his health.

“Thanks,” Sonic spoke softly, breaking the silence. Shadow hummed in reply, running a hand through his quills as he turned back to the gun. He admired it briefly, before pulling the strap attached to it over his back.

He nodded to the hedgehog, carefully holding his hand, as he grabbed the gem once more. Like it was nothing, they vanished in a lime green flash back to the inside of Shadow’s apartment.

Quickly, Sonic grabbed his shoes, dusting them off.

They were basically destroyed. Ripped, torn, really worn, now. He grimaced a little. Shadow, seeing this look, came over to take the shoes from his hands.

Then it was quiet, as Shadow sat on the couch with needles and thread in hand. Sonic watched closely, Shadow patching up what he could.

Silence crept up on them again, and he started tapping his foot. Fidgeting with his hands, whatever.

“You’re gonna have to tell me, y’know,” Sonic said, tilting his head to look at the other. The needle pushed through the fabric, as he pulled it.

Shadow met his eyes, a small frown on his face. He murmured, shifting his gaze to the thread, “I know.”

“It’s kinda awful how cryptic you’re being,” Sonic laughed awkwardly, anxiously shaking his head. “Just tell me who you saw.”

He was strong. He could handle things. Shadow knew that. He pushed the needle through the fabric again. Sonic huffed.

It was so tiring, and he knew for a fact it must be for Shadow, too.

“You’re not protecting me by staying quiet.”

And then the needle had pierced his skin, pushing too far and going through the fabric of his glove. Shadow narrowed his eyes, setting the needle down before running a hand down his face. Blood trickled softly, staining the pristine white fabric.

Sonic watched, words dying in his throat as Shadow shook off the light sting.

“Sonic,” he spoke tiredly, turning to him, “It was Rose, alright?”

Amy.

Sonic just stared at him. Of course. He turned away, his foot tapping a little quicker now. His eyes darted over everything in the room, looking anywhere but Shadow.

He couldn’t cry again, he’d been wiping his tears way too much these last couple of days. Yet, it was inevitable, as each time he blinked there were tears falling from his eyes. Though he tried to fight it, it was what it was — Useless.

A hand came to his shoulder. His touch was reassuring , careful.

But Sonic shoved his hand away, standing up from the couch. Shadow pulled it back, staying sat. As wet tears fell down his face. How could he let this happen?

Amy Rose was one of his closest friends; He loved her, really, he did. Often, she was there for some of Sonic’s worst days. When he couldn’t get up in the morning, uncharacteristically staying home and staying still. She was always there with cookies or something, anything to distract him from that daily mental destruction. Maybe she didn’t know everything that ate away at him, but she was still there and happy to help. She made him feel safe.

Amy had been there for Sonic countless times. And now? Now it was almost laughable how Sonic, who always put those he loved before himself, managed to let one of his greatest friends die.

He stood there, staring at the ground. Shadow watched him quietly, knowing it’d be best to give him space. He knew how he felt. Sonic wiped his face with the back of his hand, sniffling as he finally looked down to Shadow.

“We can find Robotnik—” he started, his voice hoarse until he paused to clear it. “We’ll look for Robotnik. I know he’s gotta have something to do with all of this. And.. we help anyone we see.”

Extending his hand to the other, Sonic gave a weak smile and a nod. Shadow was quiet, looking over his face and seeing so clearly how he was not okay at all. Yet, he returned that nod, taking his hand in his and standing tall with him.

Immediately, he pulled Shadow into a tight hug. Shadow held him as tight as he could, speaking quietly, “We’ll do that first thing tomorrow. You’ve always been able to get through the impossible.”

His words were so kind, but Sonic was , for the first time in a long time, unsure. It was hard to believe.

Later that night, Sonic had slipped out of bed when Shadow fell asleep.

Making his way to the kitchen in the dark. His heartbeat was fast, hating himself all over again as he opened a drawer and pulled out a serrated kitchen knife.

Unwrapping the bandages around his arm as he glanced behind him to see if Shadow had heard him. He turned back to the unfortunately familiar scene.

It’s… just a test, his mind convinced itself, as he dug the blade into his forearm and quickly slid it down vertically. He gasped quietly, looking at the gaping wound, wide-eyed. It bled endlessly, but...

He didn’t feel a thing.

This doesn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t even count as a relapse, right?

Sonic huffed, breathing shakily as he dropped the knife to put pressure on the wound. It made a piercing noise, the metal clashing against the kitchen tiles when it plummeted to the ground. Sonic winced at the noise, mentally berating himself for not thinking clearly.

The blood dripped into the sink, getting past his hand that tried to hold it together. It felt loud in his mind, like the sound of a leaking faucet.

Oh, Sonic. Again?

You just had to do this right now, didn’t you?

His own thoughts crept up on him, trying to shake them away as he turned on the faucet, water running over his arm. Blue fur dampening, the water running a deep red.

It didn’t hurt, it didn’t hurt at all. All the noise gave him a headache, though. His good ear twitched at quiet footsteps.

“Sonic..” Shadow called out to him. He didn’t even sound surprised. Just… soft.

Sonic didn’t respond, water still running over his fur. He only turned his head to look at him as he walked over. It was dark, and his eyes were still slightly lit with green. Shadow’s eyes widened as he saw his arm, gaze darting up to his tired face. Quickly, he opened a drawer to get his first aid kit.

The water was turned off. A big bandaid went over the cut, and Shadow wrapped up his arm in new bandages. Despite his quiet protests, he still patched him up.

He always will.

i understand its been a long wait. but im back! ive already gotten started on chapter 5 ^^. thank you for the kind words about this fic and this story.. its reallt whats encouraged me to keep going with writing what i feel. so, thank you, everyone who reads. <3

erm also i was snifflint an crying holding my litle rosy rascal figute after writing . thought the world shoulf Know

#pull you from your guilt #sonadow #zombic au #my fic #writing #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #fic

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milla-frenchy · 19 hours ago

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I started to read this series very recently, and in some ways I regret it, because receiving the notification of a new chapter, here or on ao3, and settling comfortably on my couch to read it is a feeling that I love so much 😍😍😍 (yes, even when it was angsty af 😅)

I read this chapter when it came out, but I needed to process it, to let the feelings and sensations do their job, and I thought about it, and them, often. What a journey!! I'm gonna miss them so much 🥹🥹❤️

She didn't say anything, just stared at him, then hugged her knees closer to her chest. He had expected something like this, but not to this degree, he had not fully prepared himself for how harrowing it would be to see her like this.

ughhhh my heart. It hurts. But I feel her... of course I do 💔

He plated the food— scrambled eggs, seared steak, roasted potatoes exactly the way he used to make them for her before— and carefully approached her, his heart aching in his chest when those glossy, faded eyes drifted up to him.

Oh my god. Each time a moment related to "before" is mentionned, my heart melts

He stood when she was naked before him, shivering, looking up at him with those hollow eyes that made him feel like his chest was empty. He quickly scanned her, each inch of her exposed skin, searching for any other marks, any other obvious injuries, he could see none, and he worked to ignore the blood flowing to his cock as he lifted her back up and gently placed her in the bath, taking a seat on the ledge.

Oh wow. I love how much what happened (Caleb's death, Lily's feelings) has changed Joel.

He worked soap into his hands, then washed her hair, gathering water in his palms to rinse the suds out so that she wouldn't have to lean her head back into the bath. He washed her neck, her back, her shoulders, his finger tracing the leaves and petals of her tattoo, so soft skin against his murderous palms. He gathered her hands in his and scrubbed the dirt from her palms, from her nails, his thumb lingering on that empty ring finger on her left hand, that spot he was supposed to claim fifteen years ago, that sapphire ring that reminded him of her eyes. It was probably still in his bedside drawer in Texas, if no one had riffled through his home in search of old-world valuables.

This is so delicate and sweet and.... then, the ring. The mention of it, of the bedside drawer, is so heartbreaking

He replaced the towel with the t-shirt he'd brought, tugging it over her head, helping her put her arms into the sleeves. He hadn't seen her in his clothes in so long, a lifetime, and the vision of her drowning in the thing, nipples peaked against the fabric, the hem draping down to her mid-thigh, nearly made him choke it was so familiar, so missed. He helped her into her panties, then. Crouching down in front of her, helping her keep her balance as she stepped into them. And then he picked her up, again, by her waist this time, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other under her butt, while her legs wrapped weakly around his hips, her head dropping to his chest in a motion that made his heart pinch and ache. "I got you," he whispered into the damp crown of her head. "You're safe, baby, I got you." And she reacted to that, not in words, but by clutching the front of his shirt, burying her face further into his chest.

Here are I am, re reading this chapter to rb it, and I'm crying. He's got her. He's here for her. omg I'm such a mess and thank you so much for this series!!! 🫶

He hadn't taken care of someone like this, hadn't taken care of her like this in so long. And it felt good, it felt right, it settled something inside of him that he hadn't even realized had been broken and bouncing around in his gut for too long, since the moment she got on that plane to California. This, this was his purpose, what he was made to do, made to be, her safety, her protector, how ignorant and deranged of him for trying to shove her away when this was where they both had always meant to end up. Fifteen years ago, she was ripped from him, and somehow, against all odds, in the end times, she was back.

🥹🥹🥹

It was almost like she couldn't hear him, like she had drifted off to somewhere else entirely as shivers racked through her spine, breaths coming out of her in fast, hurried spurts against his chest. "Look at me, Lily," he urged, gently gathering her face from his chest, cupping it in his palms, lifting her head so she could see him. Those bright blue eyes had gone a little wild, painted with fear, and the sight made him feel like he might drop to his knees. "I'm not goin' anywhere," he said sternly, speaking about more than just his physical presence. He wasn't going to push her out again, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how terrifying it was. She was frantically searching his face, still clinging onto his shirt. "Alright," he breathed out, standing up with her, circling her waist with his arm to keep her locked against him as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the VHS from the bag, then back into the living room, where he sat down with a grunt in front of the television, keeping her curled up against him

And this. She can't let him go, she needs to feel him, to be against him and omg I'm such a mess, re reading this 😅😭 He doesn't push her out, he stands up with her. It's so beautiful

She huffed, rolling her eyes at him, letting her gaze drift back to the screen. And even though it wasn't much, even though she was still silent, that felt like a break, a flash of Lily inside her terrified, mute exterior.

Oh my heart!! It reminded me of the first chapters 🥹🥹

"Remember," he started cautiously, the words clawing their way out of him, "Sarah's Jeff Goldblum phase." Lily's head snapped toward him, her eyes a little wide as they searched his face. Joel swallowed hard, "Couldn't get her to watch anything else for months." Speaking to her about Sarah was harder than it was with Ellie, with Tommy, with anyone else. But he owed her this, he needed this. No one had loved Sarah as much as he had, except Lily. Her mom.

jfc I have no words, this is perfection

"You smiled. I missed your dimple." Something cold and hard, something he didn't know had been caging his heart in, melted at that, while his stomach twisted into a knot. She'd been back for months and he hadn't smiled at her? That couldn't be right.

Poor Joel. And poor Lily. Both traumatised, it breaks my heart

He gently took her wrist in his hand, so her soft, little fingers splayed out across his cheek, then he leaned into her palm, his eyes fluttering closed. God, he missed her, missed this, missed how easy it was to be with her when he just gave in, when he just was. How many months had he wasted? Too many, when he was already living on borrowed time, when he was already pushing off his damnation, his fall into the burning pit he was surely condemned to. "Mmm," he purred, like a big, wild cat into her palm. Her touch made him weak. But he could be weak for her, he'd always been weak for her. He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm, then gently released her wrist, his eyes fluttering open to find her staring at him, disbelief etched onto her pretty face.

🥹🥹🥹

But she needed to see his face, needed to see those eyes while they still held sunlight, before they went black and cold again, before she woke up alone, either from the fading of her delusion, or from his departure.

Damn. Damn... this is beautiful and heartbreaking. Lily 🥺🥺

For the first time since she made it to Jackson, Joel looked like Joel, older now, more wrinkles around his eyes, that deep set between his brows, gray threaded through his curls. But he looked like Joel, her Joel. And she would have cried, if she had any tears left, if she wasn't still terrified that this— that he— could disappear before her in the blink of an eye.

This is so, so good. What a brilliant chapter 🙏🤌🤌🤌

Thank you so much for all the emotions and feelings. That's what I'm looking for in fics, and I have no words to express how perfectly you do it ❤️❤️

Nights Like This One: XXIV.

"For the first time since she made it to Jackson, Joel looked like Joel, older now, more wrinkles around his eyes, that deep set between his brows, gray threaded through his curls. But he looked like Joel, her Joel. And she would have cried, if she had any tears left, if she wasn't still terrified that this— that he— could disappear before her in the blink of an eye."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 4.3k a.n. what a wild ride. i can't believe this fic is almost over. i first drafted the outline on christmas eve in 2023. i had covid and i was miserable, sitting with a mask on in my parent's living room. a couple weeks prior, the laundry room at my own house had flooded, and i remembered wishing, in my sick stupor, that joel miller could come fix my fucking drain for me. so, sitting on my mother's couch (not so unlike lily sitting on her mother's ratty armchair) i dreamt up a fic where joel miller was hired to renovate a woman's home. i'd been reading pablo neruda earlier in the day (not unusual, he truly is a poetic genius) and these two lines from Tonight I Can Write kept rattling around in my head: "Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. // Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms, my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her." and I thought about how beautiful it would be to incorporate those lines, to have them be the cornerstones to the two parts of this story. I've been living with these characters screaming in my head for almost an entire year. I love them and this story so dearly. I know fanfiction gets a terrible reputation, i know that people who don't read it (even some that do) don't truly understand what an art it can be. and sometimes i get sad, or angry with myself for focusing so much of my time (and my $120k creative writing degree) on writing things i can never publish. but i really do love doing this. it brings me so much joy and it makes me happier than i can express when it makes you all feel something too. my dream, since i was ten years old, was to write something that other people loved, that made them happy, made them sad, made them feel something. and i always thought that would be a book, hoped it would be, and maybe that's still in the cards someday, but for now, i'll take this. thank you so very much for reading. there are two chapters left after this (maybe three if i decided to break the next one in two). my sole focus after this will be the human condition, then i have two more fics in very early stages that i'm excited to get out (eventually). happy (actually happy this time) reading <3

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