#how did I get so lucky hmmmm?

[nerdishpursuits]

@midniteowlet 🥰

you think you're asking for too much until you find someone who does it all naturally

[checkeredflagggs]

Scavenger Hunt

pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans are baffled when they spot max verstappen running about Monaco on Valentine’s Day — what’s causing him such panic?

a/n: inspired by the upcoming baby verstappen and little Donut

a/n2: I know there’s a typo in one of the texts but I didn’t want to rewrite that so imagine there isn’t please

Masterlist | Taglist

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user1: it’s so early and on Valentine’s Day…are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?

↳user2: that he forgot to get y/n something and is now rushing around last minute?

↳user1: yup!

user3: it’s so fun to see celebrities act just like regular people

user4: just how early is it over there

↳user5: extremely. I honestly have no idea what he’s doing up right now

user6: early, rushing around, and he’s still kind enough to smile at people…

↳user7: I have no idea how people think he’s a villian

↳user8: right? He’s just a little pookie

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and y/n

Bluesky

user9: another max spotting!

user10: he must have completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day…

user11: wild thoughts thrown into the universe but…are they even still dating??

↳user12: what??

↳user11: neither of them have posted anything about each other in months. By this point in winter break last year, there was like 100 photos of what they were doing and where they were going…

↳user12: omg don’t even say such thing again…

↳user13: ohhh you have a point. I don’t like it but you have a point…

user14: was he up at the crack of dawn or something??

↳user15: that’s what I was wondering…

user16: ok but where was he going in such a hurry??

↳user17: I saw him today! He was ducking into a local bakery and he came out empty handed about 2 minutes later

↳user16: he’s rushing about at the crack of dawn to go to bakeries???

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Charles (and Alex) and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user18: I saw him this time!

↳user19: well?

↳user18: another bakery and this time he came out with a bag from them. He was still in a rush

↳user19: interesting interesting 🤔

user20: he’s been spotted all over Monaco hasn’t he?

↳user21: At least 4 different locations now yes!

↳user20: have they all been bakeries?

↳user21: as far as we know yes

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user22: he looks so good!

↳user23: he always does… y/n is so lucky…

user24: was it another bakery?

↳user25: it was!

↳user19: hmmmm

user26: did he answer any questions while he was signing?

↳user27: he was chatting with us!

↳user28: did you get anything interesting from him?

↳user27: thankfully he’s still dating y/n — he was laughing because apparently she had ordered donuts from a bakery last night but forgot which one so he’s out and about trying to track them down

↳user28: awwww

↳user19: 📝📝📝

user19: I have a theory!

↳user29: is it completely crazy and out there?

↳user19: no! Well maybe! But I have some proof!

↳user29: oh no…

user19

liked by user, user, user, and 21,823 others

user19: I believe that y/n, Max Verstappen's girlfriend, is pregnant! Facts!

1 — these are the last photos she posted of herself before she went into a soft blackout (she’s only posted a couple of congratulations for Max and the McLaren boys near the end of the season). Those clothes and that pose? Classic for hiding pregnancy — and it even looks like she has a bump in that last one

2 — Max's store has a host of new baby items (cute af and I’ve already ordered some for my nieces and nephews). Why would he seemingly spontaneously start to carry baby stuff? Cause he’s got a kid on the way

3 — the last couple streams Max has done, he’s talked about legacy and the future. Not the strongest evidence but both Max and y/n have said in the past that they’d like to have a kid or 2 when they get more settled in their lives

4 — Max’s behavior today. Rushing all about various bakeries? That just screams pregnancy cravings — I bet that y/n sent him out to get something specific and he was trying to find it/them

In conclusion, y/n is pregnant and I think she’s pretty far along — and they’re trying to hide it

view all comments

user30: oh my god…

↳user31: baby verstappen incoming!

user32: holy shit…

↳user33: I don’t know what to say here

↳user32: I do! user19 you’re crazy

↳user19: just because I’m right doesn’t mean I’m crazy!!!

user34: I don’t think I’ve wanted anything to be more true in my life…

↳user35: big mood

user36: this is such a stretch but god do I want it to be true

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and Charles and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,913,923 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: our little family is growing — this is Donatello. Thank you yourusername for the wonderful Valentine’s Day surprise!

And baby Verstappen is coming Spring 2025

view all comments

user37: WHAT???

↳user38: it’s just like max to showcase his cats first…

↳user37: well baby Donatello came to the house before baby Verstappen liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1

yourusername: awww I’m glad you like little Donatello

↳yourusername: and that you didn’t mind me sending you all over the place this morning

↳user39: did you really send him on a goose chase today?

↳yourusername: well I had to get him out of the apartment somehow and pregnancy cravings are a good catch all 😂

↳maxverstappen1: schatje…

↳yourusername: you love me really

↳yourusername: and i had to come up with something when you heard me talking about Donut…

↳user39: awww is his nickname Donut?

↳yourusername: no

↳maxverstappen1: yes

↳charles_leclerc: yes 😊

↳yourusername: ugh

oscarpiastri: congrats on the new additions

↳yourusername: thanks Oscar!

charles_leclerc: you’re welcome for helping!

↳yourusername: thanks again Charles!

↳maxverstappen1: yes thank you

↳charles_leclerc: ☺️☺️

↳yourusername: oh yeah max he wants godfather liked by charles_leclerc

landonorris: and i don’t get any thanks for helping?

↳user40: threesome??

↳maxverstappen1: what

↳landonorris: no no no I helped hide the new cat

↳yourusername: ewww no. He hid some of the extra cat supplies for me in an effort to bag godfather

↳maxverstappen1: say goodbye to the potential godfather title

↳landonorris: FUCK

↳charles_leclerc: HA!

user19: I WAS RIGHT!! liked by user53

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff

[lady-lauren]

❥ RYOMEN SUKUNA X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: Cannibalism (Sukuna just takes a few bites of you, as a treat), Sukuna has two cocks and four arms, major dub-con, blood, Sukuna is a sadist, double penetration (vaginal and ass fucking), degradation, branding (his name on your skin), squirting, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie

Dead Dove Do Not Eat. I’m serious. Sukuna eats more than just pussy.

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“Oh you poor, poor little thing,” his maniacal mouth coos, sweat shimmering against the black lines of his body like an abyss, “does it hurt? I bet it does.”

It’s a rarity that Sukuna plays with his toys, normally too insatiable to take his time and savor. But you’re just so sweet, juicy with fear and plump with arousal. 

He’ll have to taste the whole menu to decide which doughy part of you is his favorite. 

You’re spread open like a feast, two hands prying your legs apart while another keeps your pesky hands locked above your head. Sorcerers are tricky—one lapse in judgment and you’ll be squirming out of his bed, throwing annoying techniques at him like you really think you stand a chance.

Perhaps you won’t, though. Your precious cunt is drooling for him, even as his fourth hand digs a claw into the flesh of your thigh. Blood swells to the surface, spilling in a streak down your skin. So close to where your pussy is stretched open, where your tight little hole is fluttering like it's scared. 

“Just a few little bites, m’kay? Then maybe, just ~maybe~ I’ll let you go.”

“H-how many?” 

He’s surprised you can still speak. 

“Hmmmm,” his voice rumbles in the thick confines of his throat as he ponders. Carmine irises flicker over the shape of you. “This looks good.” Sukuna taps his bloody fingertip to the underside of your breast, pressing into the gooey fat. “This too.” He traces a sharp fingernail across the juncture of your neck and shoulder, eyes sparking when you swallow. “And I already got started down here.”

Sukuna digs a claw back into your sore thigh, using the barest hint of his strength to rip into your tender muscle. 

Your scream makes a satisfied shiver run down all of his limbs, both cocks throbbing. They twitch together, hot and angry, red tips leaking down his shafts.

Licking his lips, he admires the sugary shine of your subcutaneous tissue, peeled back to reveal bloody insides of your flesh. Just a little rip, a stringy bit of meat that’s too easy to fully tear off and slide between his teeth. 

Sukuna swallows and the taste of you makes him want to cum.

“Mhmmmm, fuck, what did you do to get so flavorful, hm? Or have you always been so sweet?” 

He watches you whimper and wiggle, nipples hard and puffy. 

“You like this?” The grin that curls around the tattoos on his cheeks is sickening. “What a fucking delightful little human. I’ve never gotten lucky enough to find one of the sluts.”

He tests his theory under the safety net of knowing that pain makes you numb. Releasing your wrists, he revels in how you simply let the weight of freedom fall into his mattress. You aren’t going anywhere.

Your poor little pussy is creaming, squishy and wet and begging. He likes the way it smells—tangy, thick honey. It almost overpowers the iron scent of dripping blood. 

“‘Suppose you need some attention. Don’t want you passing out before I’m done.”

You gratify him with a high-pitched moan as he swirls two fingers against your cunt, knuckles sticky in your slick. Easy, it’s far, far too easy for him to slip his digits into you. Normally there’s resistance, like human pussies are trying to push him out, yet you’re sucking him in.

“What should I eat next? Pick for me.”

All the emotions that filter over your face are foreign to him. He’s not sure what you’re thinking, but can smell some sick mixture of pain and pleasure rippling over your skin as you weakly buck your hips. His fingers sink deeper into your cunt, claws tickling against soft spots that make you mewl. 

“C’mon,” he tsks, “don’t make me wait.”

Your little gulp is so cute, “My c-cunt…”

“Oh, don’t get greedy. Dessert comes last. Try again.”

You’re almost shy as you drag one of your hands from above your head, trailing down to cup one of your breasts and squeeze. “Here?”

“My, my, those tits do look delicious.” 

He shoves a third finger into your weeping hole as he latches his teeth to the fat of your breast. 

He sucks, tastes your sweat, licks at the salt. As the first bite hits his taste buds, blood trickling down the corners of his lips, his eyes go wide in astonishment. He wasn’t expecting such a burst of flavor, like jellied candy popping in his mouth.

Your shrieks are just fodder, background noise, as he hums in delight and sucks at the viscid lining of your skin.

Fuck. With the next bite he wants to be inside you, feel the tremors of your wrecked body around his dicks. 

The wound bleeds down your stomach as he pulls away, swallowing and licking along his sharp teeth to gather the remnants. 

“Aren’t you just such a treat?” 

Sukuna swats your cheek, quick with his nails angled like a cat so he can scratch at your skin. Your head lolls to the sheets, panting, damaged tits heaving as you try to find sanity. It’s too late for that. He’s going to break your body and mind, binge in your honeyed sorrow. 

“Wakey, wakey, little human. You won’t want to miss what comes next.”

Your brows pinch as he draws his messy fingers from your cunt, only to wrap a hand around each of his cocks so he can pop both heads into your holes. 

That wakes you up. 

“C-can’t, n-not both.” 

“Oh please, you’re all soft and squishy. Girls are made to be fucked.”

The swell of your belly as he pushes in makes him even hungrier. Your ass strangles his cock, the rim wet with the drippings of your slick. He hates that he has to be careful. A too strong push could split you on his dicks, and he’s having far too much fun to be devouring your guts just yet. 

But he’s not gentle. All four hands latch onto you—legs held so wide it’s nearly obscene, the other two sinking into your rib cage and smearing in blood so he can pull you down until you’re impaled. 

The squeeze of you is divine. 

The heavy mass of his cocks stretches your walls thin. He can feel the outline of both his dicks as he starts to thrust, mushroom heads catching on one another before bullying in deep.

It’s no surprise that you’re crying—humans always cry, sob, beg. It is perplexing and oh so satisfying, however, that you’re blubbering because you feel good amidst all your pain and suffering. Your hips are rolling back to meet his thrusts, pussy convulsing every time his pelvis grinds into your clit. 

Your bleeding and broken body is devouring him just like he swallowed your flesh. Your gooey pussy is sucking around him, dragging along his shaft like lips gobbling him whole. 

The hiss he releases is sinful, like a snake coiling as his tattooed thighs presses you deeper into the crimson mess he’s created. He likes the way the ichor stains your skin. He takes a bloodied hand and curls it around your thigh, fingers long enough to overlap and color your flesh like a brand. He could crunch your bones beneath his palms, break you into pieces if he wanted.

“Do you want me to, ah fuck—” he loses his train of thought when the sound of his voice makes your ass clench, ribbed walls wedging around his second cock. “Never fucking mind giving you the option. I’m keeping you. Alive. Want your body warm every time I fuck it.”

The look in your eyes is so hopeful and darling that it almost makes him feel something. 

Sukuna pummels into your gaping holes and leans over your body to sink his teeth into your neck. He bites hard, hard enough to make you weep and wail and to remind him that you’re only here to be devoured.

He rips tender flesh and digests it, drinking down more of your blood as you start to coo from the stinging pain and numbing ecstasy of having him ravage your sensitive little pussy and ass. You get so tight around him in your anguish, all fucked out and eaten like you’re nothing but a willing piece of meat. 

His wanton tongue laves over your marred skin, sliding through blood and sinew. Humans always were his favorite. Only now he can’t remember what any of them tasted like before you.

Your cunt is slobbering, creaming, and he’s pretty sure he hears your weak little heart stop beating for a split moment before you cum. 

“God what a good fucking slut,” he purrs, eyes rolling back in his head as he feels both of your channels compress around his lengths as you break. “Let’s make you do that again.”

You’re so overstimulated from the bliss of his cocks thrusting in, out, in, deeper, faster that all the suffering he inflicted is null. You cum again because it’s so easy to make you, one of his hands pinching your swollen clit until you squirt all over his toned stomach and your belly bulges from the shape of his inflating cock.

“Ohh I like that. More. Give me more.”

Two hands keep your kicking legs pinned to the bed as another torments your clit and the last is gathering your slick. He runs his fingers over the grooves of his abs and up to his pecs, finally flicking his fingertips into his mouth to eat your cum like sauce. 

His cocks swell at the flavor of you, tart and salty like some kind of rich delicacy. 

Sukuna continues to stuff you full, over and over again, pressing in until it seems like you’ll pop. His balls are bruising against your body with every brutal thrust. You’re babbling and messy, coated in slick and blood and tears and spit. It’s almost disgusting, yet he has to admit you’re just so damn pretty and warm that he thinks it’s cute. Like a pet. 

He rubs at your engorged clit until you’re squirting and screaming again, babbling about how it’s too much. Only it’s not enough, not for him. He’s close to the edge and knows just how to get himself off. 

Sucking at a clawed fingertip, Sukuna eyes a soft patch of skin below your bouncing, intact tit. The other is still seeping, his fresh bite etched into the globe.

“One last thing,” he smirks, crazed and nearly fucked out, “gotta let everyone know these slutty holes belong to me.”

The sharp tip of his nail digs into your meat, slicing the characters of his name as if he was signing a gory, whorish picture. His smile nearly splits his skull at the sight, all bloody and gross and his.

“~K-Kunaaa…” hearing his broken name out of your stupid little slut mouth is the last straw, some primal instinct to claim his prize overwhelming his senses and making him explode. 

Cum bursts from your seams all while bloating in your belly, your ass, pearly white strings glistening against all your fluids. He feels relieved as he releases into you, hot balls pulsing as he feeds his seed into your gummy depths. 

You’re so full of his cum that another orgasm crests over you, making you tremble and quake and scream. He relishes your final squeezes, letting your cunt and ass suction around his cocks until he’s milked dry. 

“I fucking love whores.” Just because he can, he pushes his hand into your bulging belly, laughing as cum gushes from where your pussy is cinched around his shaft. You whimper, twisting against the hands holding your thighs open. 

“No no no,” he wags a finger at you, “I still haven’t had dessert.”

He wonders if he’ll be able to stop himself from sinking his teeth into the delicate, syrupy folds of your cunt. Depends on just how good you taste.

[toppersjeep]

But I Love Him- Lando Norris

Masterlist

Summary: You work at McLaren with Lando. You are his race strategist. You used to be in a relationship before he ended it because of all the hate you were receiving. One day you see him bring another girl to the races. And it upsets you. So you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to this girl.

Your POV

Lando had arrived late at the paddock with some blonde girl. Of course she was beautiful. But I knew she had a reputation. But why would he care as long as he had someone by his side. I knew he was just needy. He was that way when we were together.

She walked into the garage and sat away from everyone. Lando walked over to me. Putting a hand on my back. Standing beside me. There it was butterflies like it used to be.

“What’s the plan for today Y/N” Lando said looking at my laptop. “Uhhhh well same as usual you know” I said his hand went lower. But why?? We aren’t together anymore. “That’s good” he said overlooking it. “Yeah just changed a couple things you’ll be on softs first” I said.

“Alright” Lando said with his arm around me. “You need anything else” I said. “Uhhhh no but I’m glad to have my lucky charm here today” Lando said. “Me really or Oscar” I said he laughed. “You of course” Lando said I smiled. “You look nice” I said fixing his color.

“It’s just my racing suit” Lando said. “Papaya brings out your eyes” I said. “Ah” Lando said blushing. “Beautiful blue eyes” I said. “Well I should get ready thank you Y/N” Lando said. “I got you” I said.

I walked around the garage when the girl he brought scoffed at me. I stopped in my tracks.

“Problem Maugi” I said. “Oh she knows my name” she said rolling her eyes. “Yeah I know who you are” I said. “Don’t you have a job to do” she said. “You know.. you are no good for him” I said. “Don’t care what you think he dumped you” she said laughing.

“And?? At least I’ve never cheated on my partners” I said. “You don’t deserve someone as amazing as Lando” I said. “You truly have no idea how special he is” I said. “I don’t care that he dumped me he did because he was protecting me” I said.

“So what” she said crossing her arms. “You don’t even deserve to be in the same room as him” I said. “You know what I think you are jealous” she said. “Why would I be jealous of someone like you? Sure you are pretty girl but you’ll always be mean” I said she stayed silent.

“You will never ever know him the way I do or love him the way I do” I said. “He dated you for what ten months get over it” Maugi said. “Just stop” Lando said walking over. “Lando” I said. “Not you her” Lando said as she looked at him. “But she started it” Maugi said. “No she didn’t as a matter of fact you need to leave” Lando said.

“Whatever you be with your stupid little race strategist” she said brushing my shoulder as she walked out. “I’m sorry she was pissing me off” I said. “I heard you” Lando said laughing. “What” I said. “You are so feisty sometimes you know” Lando said. “Shut up and go get ready” I said he kissed my cheek.

“And uhh I love you too” Lando said. I just blushed as he walked away.

Later…

Lando had won his first race. I ran over to the cars with everyone and stood up front. With tears pouring out of my eyes. He got out of the car. The whole McLaren crew cheered.

He walked over and spotted me. He then ran over and kissed me. As the McLaren crew cheered.

“My lucky charm” he said I smiled teary eyed. He then picked me up and spun mr around. “P1 so proud of you” I said. “You helped a lot so thank you baby” Lando said. “Oh so I’m baby now” I said sarcastically. “If you want to be my girl just ask” Lando said.

“Hmmmm tempting Lan” I said. “How about you just say yes and we see what happens” Lando said. “Alright I’ll be your girl” I said. “Good cause tonight I’m taking you out” Lando said. “Oh really shouldn’t I treat you” I said.

“When it comes to you just let me treat you” Lando said. “Fine my love” I said. “But tonight I’m expecting so many kisses” Lando said. “Of course my race winner” I said kissing him. “Now let’s go celebrate baby” Lando said.

____

(A/N- Sorry for randomly disappearing but I’m back now, needed a break from writing and stuff. But I’m back and I’m gonna take new requests. I’m gonna do a couple that have been asked. But send in new ones!!)

[shirefantasies]

Hello! 👋 Your work is amazing! I was wondering, how do you think the LOTR characters would interact with their companion/crush who has a loyal dog/wolf companion? How would the dog react to the characters? I just like the dynamics between people and animals. Take care!

SUPER OLD REQUEST I’M SORRY!!! Hmmmm interesting 🤔 I'm a huge animal girlie, though it's cats for me hehe! Love imagining my faves with animals omg 🥺

LoTR Characters + Your Loyal Canine Companion

Aragorn

✧ As someone who bonds with animals, he understands immediately and feels a sort of trust toward you because you respect other living things.

✧ He approaches the beast with great caution, near-reverence, offering a tentative hand. It is your turn to smile as your companion warily accepts, butting its head into his palm as he whispers gentle encouragement in Elvish.

✧ With your permission, takes it out tracking, curious to compare skills and see how the beasts of the world are truly made for their roles in a way even the greatest ranger cannot be.

✧ He sees firsthand the way you trust each other, move in battle as if carefully choreographed, and remarks how truly lucky you are.

✧ It moves your heart to see Aragorn’s grin one night when your companion practically knocks him off his seat by the fire.

Legolas

✧ You can see the surprise coloring his eyes before he actually speaks, the way they trace your motions and the furrow of his brows.

✧ Fearing it is judgment, you cross your arms and bite out a “Don’t tell me- an elf who’s not one for beasts?” Calm as anything, he replies in a tone dripping with wonder that he has never seen one so in tune with the world of nature, and at that, in the face of his satisfied smile, your jaw and tone drop.

✧ Naturally, your guardian is completely calm in Legolas’s presence, regarding him with a politely cocked head and an inquiring gaze sated by the elf’s hand upon its head.

✧ Legolas sees the way it curls up in the dirt at your feet, shakes his head and takes one of his blankets, wrapping the fabric into a nest for it.

✧ You catch him having a race with it one day, claiming with great merriment that the dwarf bet him he was slower than the animal.

Boromir

✧ Chuckles deeply at the sight of who trails you, shaking his head in wonder. “Don’t you two make quite a pair?”

✧ Asks right away if he can take the beast hunting, saying he envies you such a great hound.

✧ This leads to Boromir sitting at your side and recounting grand tales of Gondor’s best hunts, idly stroking the beast at your feet as he reminisces.

✧ He loves tossing sticks for the dog/wolf, amusement and peace clear upon his face as he opens his arms to the returning canine. “I could get used to this.”

✧ Your companion serves as an avenue for him to admit his feelings, starting with telling you your home must truly be a happy place with such a beast in it.

Gimli

✧ You probably meet because your companion goes bounding up to the dwarf at once, all but knocking him over. “Control your dog or I shall have to!” We all know, of course, that he is all talk.

✧ It surprises you how friendly your guardian is with a stranger, but his merry chuckles are quite infectious, bringing a smile to your lips.

✧ When you begin your travels together Gimli builds up a teasing friendship with the canine, playfully arguing with it as it noses against him for the meat he is eating and he shoos it, only to sneak a bit down anyway.

✧ Can be a bit rough with play sometimes, but you know your beloved beast can handle it, especially if it’s quite large, then they are evenly matched! Sometimes they all but wrestle in the dirt, tug-of-war somehow having turned much more silly and personal.

✧ Knows your companion’s name, but still always calls it Laddie/Lassie.

Frodo

✧ “How did you come by this creature?” Frodo is the only fellowship member to ask questions rather than whisper to themselves, and you appreciate that, telling him the story one night.

✧ Since then, the young hobbit offers plenty of secret little smiles your way and you ask for stories of his people in return.

✧ When the weight of the ring gets heavier Frodo finds himself curling his fingers through the fur at the top of the beast’s head idly, bringing him that much closer to reality’s solid ground.

✧ He even finds a special form of companionship in the moments anxiety overtakes him, your canine friend sensing his unease and draping itself upon him like a warm, heavy blanket.

✧ Grateful is an understatement. Frodo tells you in a soft voice that he doesn’t know what he would do without you two by his side.

Sam

✧ Before he even has a chance to get defensive your companion melts for him, warming up to the hobbit like none you’ve ever seen.

✧ The way they take to each other surprises you, Sam keeping aside bones from the broth to give it and your guardian taking circling Sam just as seriously as with you.

✧ Maybe it has something to do with the way Sam looks at you, the awe glistening in his eyes and the way he says your name like he isn’t worthy of it, though of course he’s the most worthy of the whole lot.

✧ Uses your companion as a sort of proxy to say things to you he’s too shy to say to your face, telling it how amazing its owner is and the like.

✧ Refers to the wolf/dog as Miss or Mister partially because he thinks it’s funny and usually says it in a jolly voice but also so you know how much respect he has for it.

Merry

✧ “Well, I haven’t seen a dog this big since outside that bar in Bree! What’s his name?”

✧ Sees your companion as a pet, which though not entirely wrong creates a more playful dynamic between them once they both understand neither is a threat.

✧ Merry can’t help bursting into laughter the day he knocks you over in a sparring match, only to get peeled off you by a massive wall of canine. Keeps laughing once they both unfreeze and he gets licked, trying to roll back up and away from the new attack. “I was going to ask if he knew any tricks, but no need now it seems!”

✧ Retaliates by finding the ‘sweet spot’, scratching until your canine friend kicks his legs like they do!

✧ Opens up to you one day, remarking how he wishes to be half of such an in-tune duo in battles and in life. Not that he doesn’t love his cousin, but he craves a different kind of companionship, one you assure him he could have with a fond smile on your lips.

Pippin

✧ Peers at you with the round eyes of complete shock, having seen nothing like you in his Shire days.

✧ Keeps the beast plenty occupied letting it run after him, tearing giddily around the camp once he sees you keep friendly company.

✧ He makes the mistake one night of extending his spoon for your guardian to sniff, only for his morsel to be stolen. Pippin cannot help a laugh, though, and a glittering look your way. “He likes to eat as much as I do, I see!”

✧ You cannot help softening at the fire one night upon looking over and seeing that the hobbit has fallen asleep, his head resting gently against the soft side of your wolf/dog.

✧ Definitely sees your companion as a way to get to know you better, asking plenty of questions and getting close to the canine in hopes to earn a place by your side, too.

Faramir

✧ Lives by a sort of silent oath to question but accept. Thus he asks why you travel with a beast, but listens to your reasons with firm nods and the beginning flicker of an understanding smile.

✧ Offers his hand very tentatively, having had his touch rejected or struck against many a time, but when the dog/wolf nuzzles against him he looks at you with joyous pride that melts you.

✧ That little interaction has you wanting to bring the two of them together, some inexplicable invisible string tugging you closer to Faramir by the heart.

✧ You let him feed your companion, indulge in a game of fetch, and in between it all make some conversation yourself. Amazing, really, all the knowledge Faramir has and he is equally impressed with your prowess in nature.

✧ Faramir always tells you how you remind him of great heroes from the stories he grew up reading with his brother.

Eomer

✧ “Who is this,” he teases you with a smirk, “your mount?” “No,” you shoot back, “though he is sure leagues more loyal than yours.”

✧ Challenges you to a competition, a challenge of hunting between him and his horse and you and your beloved canine. You win, and he accepts, offering pats to its head.

✧ Ever the tease, Eomer dubs you the Lord/Lady of Dogs, but you know by his smile and the glint in his eyes that he means it with affection.

✧ Invites you on patrols of his land’s borders, saying he trusts you both to get the job done.

✧ Suddenly he keeps talking about taking in a dog of his own so yours has a sibling, more and more thoughts along that vein invading his mind…

Haldir

✧ Fears your companion will slow the party’s orc tracking down, especially as many members utilize the cover of the trees.

✧ Allows you to do as you please, though, his soft spot evident in the way he shuts down any and all whispers about the group’s most unique member.

✧ You can see it, too, hear it in the way they speak warily of your fellow hunter, but you will not be parted. Instead you prove them wrong as your fierce defender takes down several of your quarry on its own.

✧ Haldir himself commends you both, offering a tentative hand to your newly shared ally and smiling up at you as it is accepted. Something different flashes in his eyes alongside the almost shy look.

✧ “Truly, how much less exciting my life would be without you in it…”

Eowyn

✧ Astounded by the way you two communicate, it is as if you truly do understand each other. She questions it, asks how this can be.

✧ Takes you by the horses, curious if your harmony spreads. She smiles at the way you interact with them, but it is clear just from that that the bond with your companion has been forged over years.

✧ Absolutely ready to fight to get a suit of armor made for your canine friend complete with a helmet and all of Rohan’s motifs of course!

✧ “After all, we much protect such beauty, no?”

✧ Playfully dangles things in the air, giggling whenever your canine guardian leaps for them and smiling widely at you.

Arwen

✧ Kneels down and whispers something in Elvish to it the moment she sees trepidation in its eyes, calming your companion immediately.

✧ It fosters a sense of trust between you and the woman, whose side you kneel to, tangling a hand in your canine's fur next to her.

✧ She is reminded, of course, of Huan, Oromë’s most famous hound and wonders if your beast could even be his descendant.

✧ Fair and just, Arwen quickly falls into the circle of people your furry comrade protects, chuckling deeply when it growls at the next set of people joining you as visitors to Rivendell. She speaks gently to it, asking it with a teasing tone how it still feels such unease in such a place.

✧ She knows you feel like an outsider sometimes and works to correct that, constantly telling you you have such strength and a place in the world- even Rivendell with her if you so desire.

Elrond

✧ Looks taken aback by the large form that follows you, brows raising at the creature entering his home. He hesitates, makes to hold it back, but when you insist you both go or neither the elf somewhat grudgingly nods.

✧ Used to odd patrons as he is, Elrond reminds himself that he welcomes all and asks politely for the beast’s name.

✧ Studies up on its origin if he is not already aware, trying to determine if this is an ordinary wolf/dog or one with any ties to the land’s magic.

✧ He sees your companion charge into battle at your defense, risking its own life, and with a nod of pride rushes in to save it from its own sacrifice.

✧ From then on Elrond regards your guardian as an equal of sorts, stroking its head in passing and speaking to it as if it could understand him.

Lindir

✧ Goes to comical lengths to step away from and avoid the massive canine at your heels when first he meets it.

✧ Possibly even asks if it’s safe, has fleas, etc. but immediately retracts and offers pats when you glare at him for it. Finds himself smiling despite himself at the feeling of the soft fur beneath his hand.

✧ You’ve seen dogs that howl as their owners play instruments? Then you know exactly what it is I am saying. The kick Lindir gets out of this is astounding; he can’t even be annoyed.

✧ Jokes that you’re hiding a composer under the guise of a hunter.

✧ Takes to the idea of further training, seeing how such an intelligent creature could learn to open doors and fetch items, considering such a use for helping Rivendell’s infirmary patients and those struggling with loss of motion or senses.

Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Let me know if you’d like to join ☺️

[live-laugh-love-lupone]

Divinely Beautiful - Mama! Lilia & Daughter -

Tags: Fluff. Lots of cute adorable fluff.

Word Count: 1.7k

A03

A/N: Hi Everyone! This is the first chapter to what I hope will be a multi chapter fic! The topic came up of Mama Lilia in a discord I'm in, and so we bounced a few ideas off each other. None of those ideas actually made it into *this* chapter however, they will appear most likely next chapter. Also also, the song at the end of the chapter is NOT my own creation. It is "The Ballad Of Lucy Gray Baird", with a couple of words changed to make it more, Lilia. Enjoy!

“You, my sweet child, will be known as Astrid. For its meaning is exactly what you are and will always mean to me - divinely beautiful -." Lilia places a kiss on her newborn's forehead, wiping her brow after the efforts of labour. “Welcome to the world, Mama is so excited to finally see you….” end flashback

“Use your Yellow, Mama! Please? You always look so pretty when you use it….”

Lilia shifted against the tree she was sitting against, a smile forming on her face as she pondered her daughter's request. “Pretty, huh? Alright, watch this!” She says, with just a hint of pride and glee slipping out. Lilia raises her slender hands, starting to flex and curl her fingers with a practiced grace. A small glow of yellow appears, reaching out slowly. A tendril floats to a nearby flower, lightly picking it. Lilia shifts her hands closer to the young girl, tucking the flower behind her ear.

Astrid giggles softly, feeling the flower nestle into her hair. “Which one did you pick for me this time Mama?” Astrid lightly takes it out and examines it. “You tell me child, what do you think it is?” Lilia questions, as she’s been teaching her some very basic plant knowledge.

“Hmmmm, a Bluebell?” Astrid looked at Lilia in wonderment. “Indeed, smart girl.” A proud smile growing on Lilia’s face.

“And what, my flower, do we use bluebells for?” “Well, didn’t you say once they could help heal a cough?” “Not just any cough, Whooping Cough. Which you have been lucky enough to avoid so far.” “Right, Whooping Cough…..” “You’ll learn my dear, one of these days it’ll just come to you like that!” Lilia says smiling, her fingers snapping on “that!”. “Mama? How do you remember all these things so well?” Astrid asks, slipping the flower back into her hair. “Mama has had centuries of practice, lots of time to learn and remember many things.” Lilia says, leaning her head against the tree, closing her eyes. “You’ll get there, my dear. Just keep asking questions okay?” Astrid stands up, brushing her dress off, before moving over to Lilia and settling on her lap. Lilia peeks one eye open, “What do you need, sweet girl?” “Just you, Mama.”

For a couple of hours, they remain close. Listening to the trees whisper breezes and feeling the warm sun cast through the leaves. Lilia shifts, sitting up, holding Astrid against her. Kissing the top of her head she mutters, “Alright my flower, it's time to keep moving. We need to find supper.” Astrid stands, stretching. Reaching her arms up, she asks “How far do we need to walk today Mama?” “Not too far my dear, Mama knows of a village nearby.”

Lilia had been getting by by walking to villages and doing tarot readings. Present, past, future. Or, as she said in her mystical way, “Things that were, things that are, and things that have not yet come to pass.” Part of tarot reading is entertaining you see, drawing the querent in. She had the strong ability to divine meanings from her cards, but she often found it more worthwhile to draw the person in.

Lilia helped Astrid pack her things away into her pack, helped shrug the strap over her head. Picking up her own satchel, she tied her cloak around her shoulders. “Off we go!” She whispers, smiling, taking her daughter's hand. They walked for a few miles. With the sun starting to turn the sky golden, they reach the outskirts of the village. Finding the small tavern, Lilia ducks inside, motioning for Astrid to go sit on a bench near the fireplace.

“Go sit little one, Mama will come find you soon.” “Can't I watch Mama?” “Not now my flower, maybe when you're older.” Lilia ruffles Astrids hair before gently pushing her towards the bench. Untying her cloak and laying it over her bag, she sits at a table near the center of the room. Pulling out her cards, she begins shuffling with an eased practice.

Cutting the deck once, she begins to fan them out on the table. She lets her hand travel over the half moon shape, pausing over a card and selecting it. Flipping it over, she frowns slightly. “Hmm, not the card I was hoping for.” She comments, before sliding the cards back into a stack and beginning again. She catches the attention of a few onlookers, a couple of them take a few steps closer.

“Interested in a reading?” She questions, letting the cards flutter into a freshly shuffled stack. Glancing up at the 2 people, she notices they're both young girls. One of them nods, looking hesitant. “Please.” She states, motioning to the chair across from her.

“Are we looking to things that were, things that are, or things that have not yet come to pass?”

The girl glanced at Lilia, not quite sure what she's saying. “Um, ahead, please.”

“Very well.” Shuffling the deck once more for good measure, Lilia cuts the deck once and selects 3 cards from the top of the stack.

Flipping over the cards, she glances them over. Eyes slightly widening at seeing the last one, she glances up. “Are you taking interest in a new hobby?” The girl smiles slightly, “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Hm, I can see that. Well, stick with it. You've pulled The Magician, meaning whatever hobby it might be, you have a strong drive and passion to achieve success with it. You've also pulled Strength, meaning you have both physical and emotional strength and stamina. Even throughout hard situations or decisions, you're able to keep your wits about you and perceive which choice to make.”

The girl leans in, “And the last one?”

Lilia hesitates, as if afraid to speak the name. “The last one you've pulled is, Death. Now!” She quickly continues, trying to stop the obvious fear that the word has set into the girl's heart. “Pulling Death does not mean you should fear the worst. Death often speaks of a renewal, a chance to start fresh. Old ways dying or moving aside to make way for new emotions and feelings, sometimes resulting in a new you.”

Although still alarmed, she seems slightly relieved to hear this. “I, I suppose that makes sense. Thank you, um…” An awkward silence falls and she realizes that she was drawn in for a reading but never asked for Lilias name. “Madame Calderu, dear, no problem.” The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a few coins, placing them in a stack on the table. “We should get on, my mother will want me home for supper.” “Of course, perhaps we'll meet again soon.” Lilia smiles as she gathers the cards, putting them back in her bag.

Lilia stands, turning around to look for Astrid. She finds her, watching as Astrid is softly talking to and petting a cat she found. “Always finds an animal to spend time with”... Walking towards her, she crouches down beside the pair. “And who do we have here?”. “Hi Mama! This is Celeste”. “Celeste, huh? Very cute, my girl.” Lilia gives a few soft pets and scratches to the black cat, who was very earnestly soaking up all the attention. After a couple minutes of this, Lilia pulls back. “Should we go get dinner?” “Okay, Mama!” Astrid hops off the bench. “Bye Celeste!” She whispers quickly, gathering her bag and taking Lilia’s hand. Lilia holds on a little tighter, weaving and leading her daughter through the tables and to the bar. Ordering and paying for their supper, Lilia leads her to a smaller table to occupy.

Talking between bites, Astrid asks how the reading went. “Did she like her cards?” “Yes my flower, I think she did” “But you pulled Death again, Mama.” “I- child how do you know that?” “Because you felt scared again.” Lilia smiles, “I'm alright baby, don't worry about Mama.” Finishing their meal, they both put their bags back on and head off. Walking a little out of the village, Lilia finds a suitable clearing to settle down for the night. Spreading out a couple blankets, she settles Astrid down against her. “Mama? Can we go back and see Celeste again tomorrow?” “Yes my flower, I think we can”. Typically Lilia would want to keep moving to another village. But this one felt different, there were no hostile looks or comments thrown her way tonight. She's grown used to the feeling of being ignored or almost bullied out of villages. This was different, this was almost, nice. Relaxing into Lilias embrace, Astrid mumbles sleepily. “Mama, can you sing your song?” Placing a kiss on Astrids head, she replies softly, “Of course my baby.”

When I was a babe I fell down in the holler

When I was a girl I fell into your arms

We fell on hard times and we lost our bright color

You went to the dogs and I lived by my charms

I danced for my dinner, spread kisses like honey

You stole and you gambled, and I said you should

Then one day you left, saying I was no good

Well, all right, I'm bad, but then, you're no prize either

All right, I'm bad, but then, that's nothing new

You say you won't love me, I won't love you neither

Just let me remind you what I am to you

'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're falling

I am the one who knows how you were brave

And I am the one who heard what you said sleeping

I'll take that and more when I go to my grave

It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under

It's sooner than later that you'll be alone

So who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder?

For when the bell rings, flower, you're on your own

I am the one who you let see you weeping

I know the soul that you struggled to save

Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the trial

Now what will you do when I go to my grave…

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 54

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You sit down in front of him, Jer-Joel looks confused at first but then seems to accept it as he sits down as well, you don't give him the chance to say a word though, you are going to have your turn before he does.

"Ok ok, I'll start with my first question-"

"Wait, who said you could start first?!?"

"I did! And since I outrank you-"

"Fine! Fucking...whatever"

Now! For the first question... You don't actually have anything prepared. Should have thought about that huh.

"Ok... let's see...hmmmm"

"You didn't even have anything ready????"

"Shhh! I'm thinking..." Seriously, the nerve of some people... He narrows his eyes at you but shut ups... For about three or four seconds.

"You are so weird Xelqua."

"Huh uh, tell me something I don't know... Ok, got it!"

He puts his head in his hands and groans... already exasperated? You have just gotten started.

"Just ... ask the question."

"Ok, ok, why become a hero? Where did Altostratus come from?"

His frown disappears as It's replaced by a smug smirk. It's actually a one-eighty degree change, mood swings much?

"I don't see why you are so confused really. Why would a god as handsome and strong and tall as myself not become a hero if given the chance?"

... You definitely liked him more when he was annoyed, much more entertaining.

"So It's an arrogance thing?"

And there is the annoyance, immediately back not even a minute later, you are pretty proud of yourself for that.

"It's not, I'm also exceptionally humble."

"Huh uh."

"Oh you don't get to speak mr. 'I outrank you'. "

...

You don't exactly have a valid comeback for that, he got you good. Huh... Right, better cover the blunder and change the subject least he notice his victory and mock you in turn!

"That wasn't a really good answer to my question Joel"

"Too bad, my turn, what the fuck did you do to time?"

Oh come on, does literally every god know about that?

"Decided to reverse it a bit, you know how it is."

He crosses his arms. "I don't."

"Well, one useless answer for one useless answer....Ok, ok, my time to ask the question. Why did you wait a week to speak to me?"

Joel looks away for a second and then back towards you... Uncertainty? That's... different from the others expressions you hace seen on his face today, It's extremely uncanny to look at.

"I was busy planning how to approach you, I remembered you being much... different in the past"

"Different?"

"Last time I saw you was millions of years ago, when you killed most species on earth with a meteor... I remembered you being much more threatening."

Oh? He was scared? How- wait, what does that mean? You are as threatening as you have always been! You are as strong as ever! More then ever even! It's like he's saying you have mellowed out and that's... You don't even know if he meant as a compliment or not but you got defensive.

"Hmm...my turn again"

Uh? Oh right, the questions, you got a bit distracted there.

"Yeah yeah, I'm listening, just god distracted a bit there! Oops."

"Where you the one who did the whole snail curse? On Las Nevadas."

"What? Me? ...yeah, one of my better cursed, how did you figure it out?"

"It was an hunch, plus a plague of toxic snails feels like something you would do."

Well, *this* one is definitely an insult from the way he says it but you are going to take it as a compliment instead.

"... My turn! What else have you been doing outside of being a mid hero?" You snort as the clouds go pitch black and thunder booms.

"A MID-" He exales loudly. "And for your your information I've also gotten married."

.

.

.

...Wait what? He what? That's new, you didn't know he had been seeing someone.

"Are you serious? Congrats I guess. Who's the lucky god slash goddess?"

"..." Wait, that face...

"It IS a god, right?"

"That counts as another question so you'll have to answer two of mine."

Ugh, why is he like this?.... Ok maybe you deserve it for making this so hard but still...not appreciated.

"Fine, who did you marry?"

"A mortal, she's called Lizzie...you might know her as Ocean Queen."

Ok, what is going on? He married a mortal? Why???

"But she's...mortal. You know she's going to do that one thing mortal do... you know...get old... die."

"I would prefer you didn't speak of my wife dying like that-"

"I'm just...why would you want to get attached to a mortal? That's just dumb."

"Glass is the house of they hypocrite Xelqua."

... What does that even- is that a mortal saying? Wait, you aren't an hypocrite...not right now at least.

"I'm no hypocrite Joel, I would never get attached to a mortal in such a way so..."

"Didn't you take a literal bullet for one? Revert one of the laws of the universe for him?"

"You-"

"And I'm sure that he's not the only mortal you got attached too, I saw Mother Spore at Las Nevadas last week, you were pretty protective of that villain too, Boogeyman was it?"

... It's...well, you did...but it's not the same...right? Oh no...you need to think. You get up.

"Well, that was fun! Time to go!"

"My questions-"

"Let's finish this another time! Good? Good! Bye!"

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i had a worm wiggle it's way into my head when 'work song' came on on my way home today.

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,949 | rated: T

cw: major character death (no gore, nothing descriptive, though it's stated that Eddie was sick and getting weaker, then implied that he dies.)

Eddie Munson’s mother was a witch.

He didn’t know this until he was stricken with the same sickness that took her from him years and years before, but he knows now.

He knows from the small chest he found buried deep in his and his Uncle’s attic one day after learning of his ailment, and the handful of months he should expect to have left, from the local doctor. 

The chest was brimming with scrolls, tomes, candles, stones, herbs, vials, even a small pewter cauldron.

“I shoulda known,” was all Wayne had said, heeding Eddie’s beckoning call that hazy afternoon. 

Eddie sorted through everything he had found; spending hours every day flipping through each book and journal, deciphering his mother’s handwriting and the spells she had inscribed onto the pages. 

He even started to try a few; his mother’s ‘powers’, per sae, had come from the earth around her, writing in the largest, most disheveled of the journals that all she had needed to do was to listen to Mother Earth herself, listen to what she had to tell her.

So, Eddie practiced.

Small things at first, like seamlessly re-attaching the snipped off head of a daisy back to it’s stem, snipping it off again only to regrow an identical one in it’s place. Even starting a broken branch of the pine outside the Munson home on it’s way to a new green version of what was lost.

Eddie counted himself very lucky that Wayne was not one to believe the church’s nearly unhinged ramblings about witchcraft being the work of the Devil, and let Eddie practice a couple of the other simpler things on him.

“Jus’ don’t go thinkin’ I’mma let you chop my head off, boy.”

Wayne’s body aching from following their ox around all day with the plow? “Here, drink this, it should help.” It did.

Couple of Wayne’s fingers get snapped under the same ox’s hoof? A little harder, but he managed; the digits sore and achy that night, but good as new come morning.

“There a hair spell in that book, Ed?” Wayne joked one morning over breakfast, a good three quarters of the way through the six months the doctor gave Eddie, and a couple after finding Maggie Munson’s secret.

“Hmmmm….I dunno Uncle Wayne,” Eddie flips through his journal absently, “I think a Get Your Hair Back spell is too close to a love charm to work right. You could end up with hair all over your body and not just on that beautiful, shiny, head o’yours.”

“Love spells are touchy,” Maggie’s journal had said, “There are a rumored few that work, but only for the truest forms. I’ve tried some simple potions and charms…Al still left..and if they didn’t work…” the rest was easily filled in. 

“Oh yeah? Then how's about a Cure What Ails Ya spell? Got one’a those in that there book?”

“Why? You feeling sick, Wayne?” Eddie half-jokes, trying to veer away from having this conversation with Wayne again.

Wayne’s quiet as Eddie focuses intently on the book infront of him, trying, and failing, to scoop up a bite of egg onto his fork without looking away.

“Ed,” his uncle starts, soft and pleading once again, “Is there really nothin’ that can help ya?”

Eddie huffs, dropping his fork onto his plate and pushing it and the journal away from him. Definitely something a younger boy would do, not the nearly 25 he is now. “Why don’t you give them a look, huh? ‘Cause I already have.”

“Ed–”

He snaps his head up to glare at the older man. “What is it Wayne? What?” Eddie snatches the journal back up off the table without looking. “I’ve looked okay? Through Mom’s and through every damn book in that attic. And there was nothing. Nothing! You think she would’ve left if there was?” He stands sharply, knocking the small faded blue table away as he does. “Would’ve left m—”

His free hand wraps around his middle, nausea and the spins taking him for a ride a the sudden movement.

“Hey, Hey, sit back down son.” Wayne stands as well, coaxing him back into his chair. 

The nausea spells have become more frequent, the dizziness even more so, as the months have worn on, so Wayne ties up Eddie’s hair (growing thinner by the day), walks the short few steps to the pitcher of water he’d pulled from the well that morning, and pours some into a bowl, grabbing a clean(-ish) rag on his way back. 

Wayne smoothes the cool damp rag over Eddie’s face and neck, slowly and deliberately until the nauseous feeling passes.

“‘M sorry, Uncle Wayne, I know you’re just worried.”

“It’s alrigh’ boy, I shouldn’t’a pushed.”

“I’m still doing better than most,” Eddie says, voice tilting up at the end, “I think it’s ‘cause of the magic.”

“Thoughtcha said there wasn’t no cure in that book.” Wayne states, moving to empty the bowl. 

“There’s not,” Eddie closes his eyes, relaxes back into his chair. “Doc thinks Ms. Wilson had the same as me and Ma, and you saw how quick it took her.”

“Mrs. Wilson was nearly 70, Ed.”

“Then how about that boy Carver? He was my age, and Doc gave him six when he came down with it too, was gone in two.”

Wayne shrugs, “The devil wanted him back sooner.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, lifting his head to catch a glimpse of his Uncle’s ‘desperately-trying-to-hide-his-smile’ smile.

Wayne jokes, but Eddie’s been contemplating this for a while now. When he had hit his second month, he was about the same as he was, steadily growing weaker, as what was expected, but nothing like how Ms. Wilson and Jason had looked in theirs. 

Hell, Jason had worked on the docks with Eddie since they were boys; both fit and lean, healthy young men with the musculature to show for their work.

That was when he’d found his mom’s books, and ever since, his health had slowed to a crawl. 

“I think using mom’s magic is helping me.”

Wayne is quiet, cleaning their plates from the table and dumbing the leftover eggs out the window to the pigs. 

“I think it’s your magic now, Eds.”

—---

And so it went.

Eddie’s given six months turned into a year, his magic growing from healing fingerbones, to mending their ox’s broken femur with ease. 

His year didn’t come without worsening symptoms though, and his previously well filled out overalls hung loose around him, his calves barely filling out the tops of his boots tied all the way tight. 

Wayne always kept the faith, so to speak, not a religious man by nature, but Eddie could hear him sometimes in the early morning and late night praying to “Whoever’s got their ears on up there,” to keep Eddie safe, to keep him in their sights when the time came. 

Eddie had been doing work of his own, too. Writing down anything new he found out while sitting with the Earth, listening, watching….

Mother told him through the whispers of the trees, the soft humming of the grass, that he’d know when it was time. 

And that time was within the next few days. 

He felt it in his bones, he felt it in the air when Wayne passed him his birthday gift (a flaky scone with the biggest chunks of chocolate in town, an amazing treat he got once a year) on the morning of his 25th year, he felt it in the very ground he walked on…

He was ready, though he did harbor one regret. One thing he knew he missed out on.

He’d never fallen in love.

Over his last year, Eddie would sit with Mother; amongst the trees, lain back in the field of grass on the hill behind their house, and tell her about them. 

The ‘they’ that he’d likely never meet, the they that would love him for nothing but his love in return. 

Nothing was ever specific, only the vaguest feelings he’d get about them, about the way they’d love, the humor they’d possess, the love for Eddie’s stories they’d have.

And every time he’d speak of them, Eddie’d leave with something that he didn’t realize he had picked up until he was nearly back home. 

A chain of daisies Wayne had plucked from atop his head when he sat down for dinner, a scrap of dark blue fabric he’d found walking through town, a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, the tiny sun bleached skull of a bat.

And he’d write. Over and over, never quite getting it right, but there was something he knew he needed to get out of his very being before he left for good. Something that felt like a promise.

–

The morning came, and Eddie awoke to a silent house. 

Wayne out on the fields already, most likely out helping the folks on either side of them with whatever they needed doing, with only the hens’ clucks and pigs’ snorts keeping him company with the calls from the birds in the trees. 

Eddie got up, slow as slow could be, got himself into his clothes, shuffled down the hall to the kitchen to their small blue table, tore out a blank page of his mother’s notebook and wrote.

Pouring all of what remained within him, Eddie thought of the Earth, of his mom, of Uncle Wayne, and them. His unknown love.

-x-X-x-

Steve Harrington’s mother was not a witch.

But for the last few years, he’s had a suspicion that his Grandmother is.

Everyone says that their food tastes so good because “It’s made with love!”,  but with Mama Harrington, it was real. The love and intent she imbued into her meals was there. And she could cure any ailment.

She would always go on and on about the importance of food, each recipe’s ingredients’ healing powers, and of the recipes and their stories that had been passed down through the years from her mother, and her mother’s mother, all the way to now, where they ended up in a cookbook that’d gone untouched since it was given to Steve’s mother in the late 60’s.

“A gift! Unused for so many years, Steven!”

“I know, Mama,” he nods again, dropping some green something into the pot of sauce bubbling on the stove. “Almost 25 years.”

“Aye! You have catching up to do.” she says, shaking a thick wooden spoon at him.

“Me?” he scoffs, “I don’t know the first thing about cooking, Mama!” Baking? He’d hold his own. Cooking? If his grandmother wasn’t there to help him of on the phone to guide him through a recipe? Kitchen would go up in flames.

“Bah! Watch closely, dear.” she says, shuffling to the pot that stands nearly as tall as her where it’s perched on the stovetop. “It is always your intent behind what you are cooking. You can make anything be anything as long as the intent is there.”

“Even eggs?”

She nods, her nearly fully white bun flopping back and forth on top of her head. “Even just eggs.”

“So if I want a carbonara to help get my friend a passing grade?” he asks, incredulous, but immediately thinking of Robin, who’s coming up on her finals in a couple months (for her doctorate! A PhD! Can you believe that!).

“The intent! Put it into the eggs, into the pasta, I don’t care! But make it for That!”

She throws a concerningly large handful of pepper into the pot on the stove, and gives it a stir.

“Now, this is my Mama’s recipe, and it will help your Pa’s back.”

“How so?”

“Because I told it to,” she growls, glaring at the pot and raising her spoon as if she was going to smack some sense into it.

“Alright, Mama,” Steve chuckles, “What do you need me to do?”

He spends the next hour helping his grandma roll out some of her premade dough for some fettuccine looking noodles, grabbing a wrapped up blob “from the top shelf, Steven. That’s the stuff I made for you.”. 

He rolls, folds, and cuts it as he’s told, then goes to pick Robin up from campus while she finishes everything.

“It won’t take long now, dear, and you shouldn’t either.” Mama scolds, waving her spoon around once again.

“Got it, Mama, be back soon.” He slips on his shoes, looks in on his grandpa in the living room as he passes, grinning at the loud snores he hears from the direction of Pa’s recliner, and slips out the front door to his car. 

In no time, he’s picked up Robin, stopped for a movie from Blockbuster, and is home to the smell of fresh bread.

“We’re home Mama!”

“I’m just setting the table, grab your Pa!”

“Come on Pa, Mama’s got some pasta for you.” Steve says, coaxing his grandfather out of the chair and into his slippers. 

“Ah, perfect, my back’s been real achy lately.”

“That’s ‘cause you sleep in the recliner, Mr. Harrington.”

“How many times do we gotta tell you, Robin? Just call us Ma and Pa.”

Robin plops down in her designated spot across from Ma, “Hey, you should get used to it now; Once I finally get up the nerve to Chrissy out, she’ll come over here all “Mr. Harrington” this and “Mrs. Harrington” that.

“And how’s that coming, Bobs?” Steve asks her, sitting down beside his grandma and immediately passing the plate of bread across the table to Robin’s waiting hands. 

She starts going off at a million miles a minute about her longest standing crush, while Steve shares a look with his grandma, both smirking conspiratorially as Robin takes a bite of the bread.

That’d been Steve’s suggestion, a bread imbued with luck.

It wasn’t a “Love Spell”, Mama said there was none in existence that were worth the pain. But the minimal luck that she had sown before into countless baked goods (especially near February), have had a surprisingly great track record.

With everyone but Steve.

She couldn’t quite figure out what it was that kept him from getting the benefits too, every time she had tried, they had tried, it was an astounding failure. 

First with Tommy Hagan, the carrot cake cookies Steve had presented him with as a special birthday treat back in middle school ended with two missing front teeth and a broken arm.

Then again without even thinking about it, he’d added some luck and hope to homemade chicken pot pies he’d whipped up when he and Nancy were on the rocks. 

It had somewhat worked with Billy Hargrove, but that one hadn’t even been intentional, and he shudders to think about it to this day.

“I don’t know my dearest, maybe it is because you are already tied to someone else?” She had said after her tried and true pot pie recipe failed.

“But it didn’t even work with the one I was already with!” he yelled, sighing deep and pinching the tears away from the bridge of his nose. “She jumped right into Byers’ arms.”

Mama had just given him a pitying look, which was worse, honestly.

Now, he stays far away from any of Mama’s lucky foods, especially with the weird twisting feeling he had gotten the few times he’d tried over the years after leaving Hawkins.

He and Robin came up to Indy for Robin to go to U of I, a year after she graduated, and when Steve was fired from the job that had been paying the majority of their apartment's rent when he was spotted kissing his then boyfriend by his manager….they came to live with Steve’s grandparents, taking to them both with open arms and hearts.

He comes back to the present when his third bite of pasta clears away the last of his headache.

Steve shoots his grandma a knowing look, which she ignores with a sip of wine. 

–

They’re nearly finished with dinner when it happens.

Steve’s listening intently to a story Pa is telling them, something he’s sure he’s hears a dozen times before, when he absentmidedly picks up, then takes a bite of the bread Ma made for Robin.

It’s more than he’s ever felt before.

In the past, whenever Steve’s tried to gain some luck in love, he’s been inundated with flashes, feelings, words, a warmth in his bones that he’s wanted to hold onto forever. 

The feelings grew stronger the older he got, and now, Steve finds himself sitting on a rolling grassy hill. 

It’s not a flash of a vision like before, he’s sitting in the tall soft grass, and his hands are already making a chain of daisies. Nearly done, in fact. 

He finishes it off, turns it around in his hands, then when he goes to put it on…

He’s back at the table with his family, the slice of bread in his hand, and Pa still telling his story.

Steve jumps up, startling the other three, and beelines it to the kitchen, flinging open drawers, searching for just a damn scrap of paper. 

Mama follows him, “Steve, the bread?”

“I was on a hill, chaining daisies, and now I have to get these words out.” He probably doesn't make a lick of sense, but he doesn’t want to lose them.

Suddenly, a pad of paper and pen are passed into his line of sight. He snatches them up, and starts scribbling down as much as he can.

He and Mama stare down at the words on the page. 

“Mama, what is this?”

She is silent for a handful of breaths.

“This is why the luck never worked.”

now with a part 2!

also: i don’t know the first thing about being a witch or anything of the sort, nor do i know anything but the basics about cooking; hope im not way way off on anything!!! this is all in fun 😅

[httpiastri]

lucky charm? – al12

arthur needs your support after the feature race in austria.

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: gender neutral!reader x arthur leclerc (i think i used the female form of a french word, but that should be the only female mention)

warning: hmmmm none!

requested: yes!

author's note: hello hello! i had bigger expectations on myself for this but i haven't been able to write a lot these last few days soooo... anyways! please forgive me if i use the wrong terms when i wrote about the dams garage and drivers room and so on, i don't really know how it all works and where people are allowed to be haha! hope u enjoy<3

f2/f3 masterlist

you feel yourself being unwillingly pulled out of your sweet sleep way too early for your liking. you could just as well just turn over and fall asleep again; the combination of the soft mattress and the fluffy hotel covers could lull anyone into a deep slumber. but just as you’re about to relax again, you hear the shuffle of socks against the carpet, followed by a thud and a quiet swear word.

you open your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the morning light seeping in through the messily closed blinds, before they find arthur standing by the edge of the bed.

his eyes fix on you too, a guilty look spreading across his face. “did i wake you?” he asks. “i’m sorry, i dropped my phone…”

he reaches down to pick it up from the floor as you shake your head. “it’s fine,” you hum. “good morning, love.”

“good morning, ma chéri.” he flashes you a smile as he scoots over to you, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

you shut your eyes again. “why are you up so early?” you ask. “didn’t we say breakfast at seven?”

“it is seven,” arthur chuckles, but just as you’re about to sit up and scold him for not waking you up in time, he speaks again. “don’t get up, i’ve already had breakfast. you can continue sleeping.”

you frown with your eyes still closed. “what’s that supposed to mean? why-”

“i’ve been called in for an extra team meeting. they want me to meet them there in 30 minutes.”

your eyes open again, looking at your lover now sitting right by you on the bed. he’s got a hint of sadness in his eyes, and he feels another sting of guilt pass through his body.

he still looks as handsome as ever, though, and you can’t help but to let your hand cup his cheek. “when did you get up? you must be so tired.”

he shakes his head, a slight smile adorning his features; half due to the concern in your voice, half due to the love he can feel even in your touch. “we went to bed so early, i’ll be fine. you can still get another hour or so in, though.”

you pout. “i can’t sleep without you.”

arthur’s pretty laugh meets your ears. “you had no problem falling asleep while i was brushing my teeth last night, amour.” he takes your hand from his face, intertwining his fingers with yours. “but if you really don’t want to sleep any more, you could get some breakfast and then watch me get ready in the garage.”

you consider the options for a moment. “maybe i will,” you say, squeezing his hand once.

he takes your hand up to his mouth, placing a few sweet kisses to your knuckles. "my lucky charm." even more kisses. "i do unfortunately really need to go now. but i'll see you on the track?"

you nod, looking up into his eyes. "good luck, darling."

your boyfriend leans down towards you to meet your lips with his. both of you are still sleepy and it's evident in the kiss because it's lazy and slow. yet, it's filled with so so much love. when you feel him starting to pull away, you place a hand by the back of his neck to keep him close. he laughs against your skin before he manages to leave your lips – his neck muscles are apparently stronger than your hands.

"i'll see you soon again, okay?"

"mkay."

and after one last kiss, he's gone through the door, leaving you all alone in the big bed.

arthur was, as usual, quite busy right before the race.

that meant that he didn't have a lot of time to spend with you, but by now you'd learned to enjoy spending time in the dams garage, despite how different it felt to the prema garages you visited last year. you followed arthur on the tv as much as you could during the race, while also having time to chat a little with the crew every now and then.

you found it funny how it seemed like arthur and his friend ollie bearman found each other even on the track, the two of them following their former teammate through the laps and even into the pit stops.

arthur came out on the track just before ollie, which made many of the dams workers cheer. but just a short while after they left the pits, it happened. one of the few things that was not allowed to happen.

in one of the turns, not even one minute later, one of his tires flew off the car.

arthur couldn't have done anything to stop it or make the situation better. it was in no way his fault, and yet, it had all of the worst consequences for him.

thankfully, there was no crash and the tire didn't hit another driver, so it wasn't really a dangerous incident. but when arthur gets up out of the car and you can tell he's uninjured, you still let out a thankful breath you didn't know you were holding. you know this is awful, as it is any time he's forced to retire out of a race, but at least he isn't physically hurt, which was the most important to you.

a couple of minutes later, arthur arrives back in the garage, where he receives a bunch of pats on the backs and compassionate looks from team members. you are still sat on a chair a bit further into the garage, wanting to give him some space instead of approaching him, but you watch his every move carefully. his dark eyes stay aimed on the floor and he doesn't give out much more than small nods to the people trying to talk to him. he's holding his helmet in one hand, his balaclava still on and helping cover what you assumed was a regretful look.

you were so sure he wouldn't notice you, but his eyes land on you just as his hand reaches for the door to his driver's room. you kind of expect him to give you some kind of reaction. a smile, a nod, anything. but just like to everyone else, he looks away.

as he's gone through the door, you feel some kind of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. you know it's not personal, but it still pains a little to think about him treating you just like everyone else.

you wait until the race is over and the staff is busy celebrating the other dams driver's podium before making your way towards the door. after knocking on it a few times, you can hear his voice from the inside, muttering something about leaving him alone.

"arthur, can i come in?" you ask, ignoring his request.

when he hears that it's your voice seeping through the cracks of the door, he's instantly on his feet, making his way to you.

when he opens the door, you're met by an exhausted face. the balaclava is off now, lines on his face still showing where the seams had been pressing for the long race. he steps aside to let you into the room and then closes the door behind you. he sits down on the couch and you take a seat right next to him, eyes never leaving his sad ones. he's looking everywhere but at you, though, feeling way too sensitive to take in the way that you were looking at him. with so much comfort, support, love.

"i'm really sorry," you say, voice low. "that sucked."

he nods, eyes moving to look down at his feet as he leans his elbows onto his knees. "shit happens."

you stop for a moment but then you decide to be brave, putting a hand on his shoulder. when he doesn't shrug it off, you begin stroking over his white fireproof shirt with your thumb, hoping to comfort him even the slightest.

"i just... felt like the pace was good, you know?" you nod, even though he isn't looking. "i was ahead of ollie, and he ended up in p5..." your hand moves to the back of his neck, softly rubbing up and down his skin. "i don't know, i just feel like i could've scored some points too."

"yeah, definitely," you hum at him. "you did really well, love."

one of his hands comes up to wipe over his face, before he finally turns to look at you. "thank you." a slight smile takes over your lips. "and thank you for being here."

"of course. anything for you, mon amour."

arthur leans towards you, molding his lips against yours. the kiss is a lot different than how he kissed you earlier this morning; it's soothing, tender, gentle. yet, it's filled with just as much love.

"sorry i wasn't your lucky charm like you said i am," you tell him once you pull away, faces still close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

his mouth curls into a smile before he kisses you again. "don't worry," he moves to give you a couple of pecks along your jawline. "i'll buy a new charm since having you around doesn't work."

you gasp, slapping his chest as a big, teasing grin lightens up his face. "hey!"

and when his wholehearted laughter fills the room, you smile, despite his insult just moments earlier. you smile because you know it's all going to be fine; you smile because after his next race, he will be smiling too.

[harunade]

i love your writings so much🙂‍↔️🫶now please hear me out -

imagine mafia jiwoong being whipped up for his step sister(😭😭)

(i beg you please write it if you liked the idea😭)

hmmmm mafia jiwoong is something very possible… he’s a very powerful man with many connections so it’s no wonder he has as high of a status.

definitely the type to do everything cold blooded. he only cares about his money, and his mom, as she is the only family he has left. jiwoong would do anything to protect her and to protect his secret from her. after all, you don’t go out in the street screaming that youre the capo of a mafia gang.

and… there’s you. jiwoong wasn’t expecting his mom to remarry anytime soon, but she found a lucky bastard to make her happy, so who was he to oppose his sweet mother’s happiness? the said man was your father.

the first time your older brother saw you, he didn’t pay you any mind. he had a lot to think about, he had people to talk to and orders to give, and you could see his frustration as his face twisted at the dinner table. “hey.. you feeling okay?” you asked him lowly as he was lost in thought. brushing you off, he internally appreciated how attentive you were.

some time had passed and jiwoong’s interest in you only grew. the more time you spent at his house, the more intriguing you seemed. you were always careful, clean and made sure not to be a nuisance. you always wore cute short pijamas that always worked jiwoong up whenever he saw them, but he couldn’t ever admit that. unfortunately for him, jiwoong had grown a soft spot for you. and you did too.

the rare interactions between the two of you became more and more frequent, until you two considered yourself friends, well… more than friends..

one night you two had one too many glasses of red wine and you somehow ended up on jiwoong’s lap, smearing your red lipstick all over your lips. even after the hangover was gone, you could still make out vividly how his soft lips felt on yours and how his hands guided your hips to grind agaisnt his clothed cock. it wasn’t usual for the older boy to mess around with girls, as he considered it dangerous for them to find out, but you were an exception. he was drunk with your kisses, and got under your skin.

nothing happened that night excluding the dry humping that made jiwoong come in his pants, but the dynamic between the two of you surely changed from then on. your little make out sessions continued, and evolved to something else,

jiwoong couldn’t bring himself to fuck you, he would feel guilty as he was scared something might happen to you, so he resorted to eating you out. day and night, you were falling apart on his tongue, as he lapped like an addict on your juices.

—

the day you found out the truth of who your step brother really was, you almost fainted. “do you feel alright?” he asked as your skin got pale and your eyes widened. you couldn’t believe what you heard. the tortuing people, the debts, the under the table jobs, everything… was so weird. strangely, you were mostly worried about him. you didn’t know why, bur your heart ached at the thought of him getting in any way hurt. “are YOU okay? is anyone after you or something? have you gotten yourself into something sketchy?” the guilt and worry was visible in your eyes, and jiwoong couldn’t help but melt at the sight of you. that’s how much aof an effect you had on the previously stone hearted boy.

“don’t worry, princess. nothing will happen to me or to you. i’ll keeo you safe here with me” he murmured before pulling you into a tight hug

[romana-after-dark]

Guard Dog

Riader!Joel Miler x Dark!fem!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: Joel attempts to raid the wrong house, and having the Joel Miller on his knees before awakens something in you... and in him.

Content and Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Dub con on Joel (Is it non con? idk. Idk how im supossed to tag this but it's no where near the violence of tww someone help), references to non con from Joel to other women, gun sucking, fem domme, dark!reader but Joel is also dark soooooo, subby Joel, dead bodies, Nick reference (if you read TWW you know lol), multiple orgasms, overstim, dumbification?

AN 1: This essentially came of two thoughts, me thinking hmmmm how to write raider!Joel in a new way? 2. I want to avenge Little One. Joel did her so dirty and is still doing her so dirty in the dark timeline addition, lowkey wanted someone to get revenge for her. Plus, subby Joel is always a win for Fen and Maura lol

AN 2: Shout outs to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @toxicanonymity for talking me through this idea, esp Toxi for letting me use the gun blowjob bit lololol if you like that concept, I encourage everyone to check out toxi's raider joel Or maybe Jake's part in the chasing series

***********************

Whoever it was, they had chosen to raid the wrong fucking house.

Yes, you were a single woman. Yes you lived alone. But no, you were not helpless, far from it, actually. Whoever it was is lucky they had made it past the set of boobytraps thus far. Actually, it sounded like a few of them had been taken out as it was.

*

Joel watched in relief as the arrow went through Nick’s skull. Relief it wasn’t him. He never liked Nick that much anyway, real creepy guy. In fact, he didn’t like any of the men that this house had gotten either. It was exhausting, trying to lead a group of dumbasses and whatever the fuck was in here it wasn’t worth it, so Joel attempted to make his exit. Thing was, leaving was proving just as hard as entering was. Whoever lived here didn’t want anyone living to tell the tail. Stepping over the dead bodies of a few of his men, Joel had narrowly dodged more arrows, spikes, darts; the whole lot, until some secret fucking door opened up like a goddamn scooby-doo house and there you were, gun to his forhead.

“Joel fucking Miller, I’ll be damned.”

Joel narrowed his eyes. He didn’t recognize you, but you knew him. That wasn’t surprising, he’d gained a bit of a reputation from raiders, fireflies and regular people. “Who the hell are you?”

You tell him your name, first name at least, and make quick work of taking out the gun in his hand. “Armed with anything else, Miller?” He said he wasn’t, but you knew that was a lie. “Don’t believe that for a second.”

“Then why the hell did you ask?” His texan drawl was prominent, especially when he was worked up.

“More fun to mess with you.” Keeping the gun pressed up to his temple, you press your body against his in turn as you pat him down for more weapons. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome.

“JESUS!” Joel jumped as you grabbed at his ass. “Watch your fucking hands.”

You can’t help but giggle; he thinks he's in charge. “You could be hiding weapons anywhere-” He tenses as you slip your hand between his buttcheeks as much as his jeans allow. “-Can’t be too careful.”

Joel was a brutal man, you heard stories of his rage and carelessness for human life, including women. There’d been many such stories of him forcing himself on women, kidnapping and trafficking… maybe he needed a taste of his own medicine? You take your time on his top half, feeling up every muscle, every bit of pudge, every dip on his broad body. Then, onto the lower. Without hindrance, you grope at his crotch and are very impressed by the size of him; and amused by the way he’s already semi-hard. Men are so easy, it’s funny sometimes. 

“This make you excited, Miller? Or does it scare you to be at a woman’s mercy for once? Maybe a little bit of both?” 

Joel didn’t look at you, lips pursed in a hard line.

You continue, moving the gun to his pants as you kneel before him to check lower. “I bet this is more your speed isn’t it? Having a pretty woman on her knees?”

The scoff above you doesn’t go unnoticed. “Mighty full of ourselves, aren’t we?”

After taking a knife and a gun that were strapped to his ankle, you stand up, satisfied with your work and the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “I own a mirror, Miller. I know what I got going on.” Degrading won’t work on you. With a nudge, you press him towards your room. 

“Yuh gonna kill me?” There was no fear in his voice when he asked. This was a man prepared for death whenever it came.

“We’ll see. Gonna have a little fun with you first.”

*

Having Joel Miller on his knees for you was a goddamn treat. He looked so good like this, so submissive even if his bratty little face wanted to put on a show. 

“It’s natural, you know.” With a glance down, you let him know that you are referencing his half-hard cock. “The adrenaline.” You squat in front of him. “How many girl came when you forced yourself on them? How many felt their bodies betray them? Did you laugh at them for getting wet?”

“I didn’t-”

“It’s humiliating, isn’t it?” Your gun was still out, knowing physically he could probably overpower you still. You weren’t weak by any means, but you also were aware he had far more upper body strength, muscles bulging through the seem of his shirt sleeves. The cool end of the gun prodded at his face as he tried to keep calm; the bob of his adam's apple and subtle rise of his chest was giving away his nerves. It was exhilarating, having a man that many feared, the cause of death of so many men, someone of damn-near legendary status and his knees for you… You couldn’t help the reaction the thrill had in pooling in your stomach. It was natural, wasn’t it? That’s what you told Joel. 

Using the gun, you move his face around a bit to really take in his features. Strong nose, curly salt and pepper hair, soft brown eyes and lips you just really wanted to make whimper.

“Your quite handsome, you know that?”

An ironic chuckle. “I have a mirror too, sweetheart.”

You can’t help smiling at him as you straighten back up. “Take off your shirt.”

He rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

“Obedient thing, aren’t you? Bet I could train you, bet that’s what you need, isn’t it?” You slip your hand in your pants, feeling up your own wet cunt as the thrill of power elevates things. “Tired of having to decide, having to lead…” Maybe the adrenaline was getting to you, but you suddenly wish you had a dick to make him suck. You don’t, so you settle for the next best thing. You tap his lips witht he barrel of the gun. “Open.”

Joel hesitates, a slight spark of fear in his pretty eyes as he keeps his lips tightly closed, and that just won't do. You slap his cheek with the gun, and as grunts in pain the seal of his lips pops open.

“Ah-mph” His cry of pain was quickly muffled by the gun being shoved in his mouth. 

“Suck on it, cowboy. Act like you fucking enjoy it.”

You don’t think he needs to act. Joel sucks on your gun like he would a dick and you furiously finger yourself to his rhythm. As he closes his eyes, you can hear a low groan emitting from his throat and his hands twitching at his side. 

“Touch yourself, go ahead.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, his right hand flying to the seam of his pants and palming at his full erection.

 “Good boy, good fucking boy” You praise. “Just an obedient little dog pretending to be a lone wolf. Is that it? You just want someone to tell you what to do, huh?” You release the gun from his mouth and can’t help but grin as his lips chase it.

“Y-yes.” Joel admits, face strained in tension as he kept touching himself. Must hurt, being constrained like that.

“Take it out. Eyes on me.” You guide his face to look up at you with the tip of your gun. “Look in my eyes as you do it.”

As he released himself, Joel did indeed look up at you; he looked up at you as if you made the stars in the sky. 

Once his cock was out, all 9 or so inches, you take off your sleep shorts and straddle over him but not yet putting it in. “I don’t think I need this gun anymore… but I think you like it.” When you sink down on him, gun pressed to his ribs as a firm reminder of who was in charge, you hold your breath in order to hear the simple whimpers and guttural groans that Joel tried so hard to hide.

“This is where you belong, isn’t it?” You goad him, eliciting a quiet ‘yes’ from his lips. “Under me, belong to me.”

You are speared on him, his dick spreading you open and stretching you unlike anything you had felt before and you loved it. Every chance you had, you felt his muscles, reveling in the fact such a physically strong man was so mental weak for you and only you.

“Can I cum? Please?” Joel begged for you, pleaded ever, lips quivering even as you kissed him.

“Almost there, baby, almost- mmmm- almost there. You can cum after me, okay?”

Joel nodded quick, tiny nods and hesitantly moved a hand to your hips. He looked up at you bouncing on his cock for permission, and when you nod back he goes to thumb at your clit. 

“OH GOD!” You shout, breathless, slick all over your thighs and his pants, his touch sending you over the edge. You cum hard, walls pulsing all around him and he doesn’t ask again before spilling his seed inside you, filling you to the brim.

Your body relaxes, but then Joel throws you to the ground causing you to drop your gun and for a moment you thought he bested you, got you distracted; until he dove right into your cunt with no regard for the lost gun. He didn’t care about beating you, he cared about tasting you. As he desperately licked his cum out of your dripping hole, you tugging at his curls, Joel humped the floor as if he hadn’t just gotten released. You pull him close, riding out another orgasm on his face. When you cum a third time, you have to push him back, the overstimulation from the desperate man’s tongue, lips and beard being too much. When you do, he looks up at you with wide eyes as if he had done something wrong, but you pull up and into a kiss before laying him down on the floor to kiss him some more.

“Not sure if I wanna let go of you, cowboy…” You tease, playing with his hair but keeping him firmly pressed to the ground. “Might have to keep you around, but my little guard dog, how about that?”

Joel’s eyes were glossy, his face so fucked out you weren’t sure he was fully cognizant. “Baby boy too tired to speak? That’s okay, I’ll take care of you too. You be the arms; I’ll be the brains. You won’t have to have a single thought outside me again, okay?”

***********

Part 2 here

LOWKEY NERVOUS BC THIS IS SUCH A DIFFERENT JOEL AND HE DOESNT DO A LOT OF TALKING?!?!?!?!?!??! UNSURE HOW I FEEL

Anyway I do hope to write more maybe? so if you wanna be tagged comment below! I liek the idea of having a joel I can kinda just write stuff about whenever instead of a story and an arch and characters to balance. This is just more casual. and i dont gotta go nuts keepingup with posting like my other stories. Im think a v joel tess kinda vibe where she's clearly leading him

I was supossed to be working on the next part to my Javi P x reader x Santi AU buuuutttttttttttt I couldnt get this idea out of my head. So. here you all go! I'll try and work on that, the dark! TF boys, TWW, and the Will Miller story lol its kinda a lot rn

Please consider reblogging and commenting to support your fav writers &lt;3

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @morallyinept @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @the-fox-den @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @k-ra

If you'd like to join the dark! taglist, click here! this is different from my regular taglist on my main account

If you'd like to join only on this tag list, comment below

[popcornforone]

I’ll Make An Exception

A Frankie (Catfish) Morales Fic

Day 20 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

Ooooh so you all liked soft Frankie reading Fink did you (im publishing this now I’m home from my second viewing of The Wild Robot in 48hs) well today you get a bit more of the menace that we all fantasise about. God he’s talented.

Synopsis:- it’s the morning after you met a hot stranger at the bar.

Word count:-1100

Warnings over & above:- most of this is done by messages to each other, masturbation,naughty photos suggesting activities, sexual tension, swearing, alcohol, hook up friends with benefits.

Thanks for giving this a read my loves. As always please thank @alyssamariag & @norththelemon for setting this up.

Had the night before been a blur, or did it happen? You weren’t sure. You knew you were overly tired on this Sunday morning. Not actual hangover that made you dash to the bathroom to be sick but you did have a small headache. Past you knew this would be the case for Louisa birthday & you had a bottle of water & some painkillers by the bed, past you knew future you would need them. You’d also clearly had not been that tipsy as you had got home, locked the house up, taken your make up off & changed into your sleep shirt. That blue & white stripy one. Yet as you laid there thinking about if you should get brunch, you also felt happy. Like something had happened the night before.

That’s when your 11:30 emergency alarm went off. You knew you didn’t want to sleep in & not get any sleep before work on Monday on Sunday night. You’d learnt from past mistakes. As your hand reached to turn it off it stopped. This made you sit up in bed & reach for the phone.

Unknown number

1 message

You swiped & clicked & your eyes widened.

Morning beautiful, hope you got in okay last night 😘

It floods back. The handsome man at the bar. The one with the dirty cap that looked older than him. The stray locks & curls trying to escape it. Big brown eyes. Soft large hands. A grey shirt & jeans which well showed him off in all his glory.

You lie in bed & smile. Your friends know you often don’t like guys to flirt with you at bars, but you signaled to them that this one was fine. He had started out nervous, but from your memory you remember a gently kiss on the back of your hand, you kissing his beard patch, & vaguely remember grabbing his phone to put his number in, before your girls dragged you to the next bar for their happy hour. Your eyes lingering on him for as long as you could. Your blushing right now thinking about him, when the next message pings through.

If you don’t remember me that’s fine, but I just want to check your okay.

You smile & reply to him.

Morning, I’m alive not hungover how are you… frankie?

Your being honest when you ask that, something in the back of you mind just clicked that this was his name.

Ahhh I’m so glad you’re alright, & yes I am Frankie… how many guys did you give your number to last night? You know he’s starting off soft but you can tell from the messages & how you body feels as you think of him, that he could be the right kind of trouble for you.

Just the one, he was kinda cute & shy, I liked him. You can’t see frankie blush as he reads that message.

Lucky him, so I didn’t scare you off?

No 2 for 1 cocktails are clearly more important to my friends than my dating life

Which is?

Until last night none exisitant

& now?

Possible

So you think I’m a good dancing partner?

Whoever said we’d go dancing?

I mean in bed?

You almost choke on your bottle of water at his reply, he’s being forward now he’s realised you’re up for it. It’s not usually what you go for but you are enjoying this. Your arousal growing, tempted to get out your vibrator as you message this handsome stranger from the night before.

Well that all depends, I like whoever I bed to take me on a date first

Ooooh so dinner before desert

Yes

Hmmmm & what would I wake up to each morning if I decided to peruse this. You then quickly snap a selfie not caring how bad your hair is & send it to him so he can see you sleeping in the sleep shirt. Frankie has to palm his cock instantly once he receives the photos.

Any panties under that?

Yes, a small red thong

Damn it baby

& you frankie? What does a smoking hot pilot wear to bed. Your turn to receive a topless selfie, you lick your lips looking at his good body, his chest you want to bury your head in as you bounce up & down on his cock moaning his name as he grabs your arse & he tells you to be a good girl. Your own hand goes to your clit.

Hmmm nice view

I think mine would be better. You then do the ultimate power move & take your thong off & send him a photo of it on the bedroom floor.

Well I’m sure that’s a view you’d like to see.

You fucking tease

You started it

Did not

Did too 🤪

You go back & forth with this. Your pace picking up. He’s asked you if you like someone in control, if you shut your eyes when you cum. The friction unbearable & you moan in a voice note going fuck yes. You have know I dear that this send him over the edge too. Frankie cums all over his hand. A waste he says to himself. After all the self pleasure he then send you one final message.

What if you turned your location on right now to your phone? What would happen?

I dunno come round & find out. You turn on your location & then hear nothing at all for 15mins. You lie there damp & ready to be ravaged by a man who you know nothing about other than he likes to pull a girls hair as she sits as his reverse cow girl.

Then the door bell goes off & you walk downstairs to open it. There in the midday sun stand frankie, he’d clearly thrown on what was near him, long shorts with paint stains on them a grey tshirt & that cap. you stand there still in just your night shirt & look at him.

“Hello handsome”

“Hi does this count as a date?” He asks as he clicks his keys to make sure his truck is locked & you can see his other hand is over his manhood trying to not cum at the state of you in a bed shirt that just about covers your bum.

“No but for you sexy”You wink & grab his hand”I’ll make an exception”

You drag him into your house & lock the door & he pushes you up against it. Clothes fly off everywhere as what was going to be your lazy Sundays for recovery becomes one of the most passionate afternoons of love making in your life.

[mochiwrites]

Hi! I'm am right running around tumblr asking ao3 authors how they joined ao3/found ao3 and who else to ask.

And its your lucky day! @nine-of-diamonds told me to ask you. So how did you join Ao3? And who else to ask?

henlo henlo !!!! :D

oh gosh how I joined ao3 huh… hm let’s see….

I originally started writing/reading fics on a really old website called quotev !!! I used to post a written version of a larp that an old friend and I were doing (we were like 11-12 LOL) and ironically it was based on mcyt! and it kinda spiraled from there—I got into a few different key anime fandoms that pushed me to write more and read other fanfics that gave little 12 year old me lots of inspiration

through reading different fics, I happened to stumble onto wattpad which was… a time FHDBFBFHF. I started writing even more fanfiction because I was reading so much and as a kid being bullied in middle school it was a really nice outlet 🥺 I don’t quite remember how exactly I found ao3 but I do remember the first fanfic that pushed me to even look into getting an account

I think I might’ve just done a general google search of the anime pairing 🤔 because doing that also led me to fanfiction.net as well….

but !!! I had found this fic on ao3 and I remember wanting to subscribe to it so that I could keep up with updates. so I requested an invite and the amount of excitement I had while waiting to get that invite oh man. when I finally got it I was so excited. I made my first account, left a comment on that fic o enjoyed, and was on my way >^•^<

I remember transferring some of my wattpad fics to ao3 and being so amazed at how long the fics I was reading were. it truly felt like I had stumbled on a gold mine of quality writing and I really wanted to be like the ao3 writers I was reading 😅 (corny, I know) but at that time I was posting chapters that were 500-600 words. and I was reading fics that were 2k+

which led to the challenge of trying to write more, trying to be more descriptive and really dive into the characters and stories I was writing. ao3 really helped me hone my craft and just??? fall in love with writing 🥺 it made me want to get better at writing and I started properly interacting with the fandoms I was in at what felt like a larger scale than wattpad or quotev. and I’ve met so many wonderful and very dear friends because of it ;w;

now here I am, 10 years later, still creating and using ao3 <3 ( and I can’t write normal length fics to save my life! :D /silly ). I hope that answered your question !!! sorry I ended up rambling ^^;

as for other people you could ask hmmmm @sparksnevadas @splish--splash--minecraft @anxiouspotionofgloom @stitchthesewords @masque-of-plague aaaaaand @boonbeenblade :D

[marshmellowtea]

do you have any headcanons for robert’s family/childhood/relationship history?

not as many as i do for chris of course LMAO but i have a few:

i'm of the firm belief that robert is smack in the middle of seven children, which is a huge part of the reason why he's Like That(tm). he has such extreme neglected middle child vibes to me alkjgdasl

i don't have super concrete headcanons for any of his siblings (other than ellie ofc but we'll get to her <3) but i do know that they're mostly if not entirely sisters (which is also part of the reason why he's Like That)

i also know robert absolutely ranks them in his head the same way he did the drama society in his masterclass lmao. obviously here though he's ranking them by how good of a sibling they are and these rankings change based on his whims except for his youngest sister who's at the bottom because he's jealous of her being the baby and he's petty like that lol

would being the youngest child have fixed robert. no he would've been so much worse. we're lucky things turned out the way they did LMAO

........rest of this post is going under a cut cuz in typical marshy fashion it got looooong lol. i guess i had more thoughts on this than i thought (or maybe writing this got me thinking about it more? hmmmm.......)

anyway one of his older siblings (if not the oldest one) is the one who had lucy. they did drop in his rankings after this happened but he raised them again after he realized he could make his poor niece take his acting lessons ghlkasdfk

ellie was already very low on his list (no major reason for this, they just argue a lot/don't generally get along) and she did drop to second to last after dating chris. she was saved from the absolute bottom of the list by the youngest sister grudge because that beef won out over his irritation and jealousy at her dating his rival lmao

as you can probably tell, i don't think robert has a great relationship with most of his siblings tbh. i think attention was a limited currency in the grove family, and so he considered them competition for his mother and father's attention, and they considered him competition right back. i don't think the grove parents intentionally tried to pit them against each other, but they were extremely sparing with who they gave attention and their affection to, so it was just a natural result of their neglect that their children would end up fighting for whatever little they did give out 😭

which is to say that while robert and chris both had cold, emotionally distant mothers, celia is obsessed with chris (particularly with regards to micromanaging him) and just pretends like she isn't, but robert's mother genuinely barely remembers he exists some days :')

and when she does remember he exists she's disappointed in him. RIP buddy

to once again contrast him with chris though, i really do think he's mostly over trying to convince his mother to love him. like, it's not gone, i don't think that kinda thing ever fully goes away and it can certainly be triggered by certain things (i think the coup was something that he ummm. totally very casually brought up to her to try to impress her and unfortunately she was not impressed in the slightest 😔), but he's definitely not endlessly and actively striving for it the way chris does.

no, instead he just has slightly inappropriate relationships with older women to chase that validation instead, especially those who are the mothers of his friends. fun! :D

related to both those points, i think that in summer once again, the "mother said i was all talk and no trousers" line was referring to his actual mother, and the "another spanking from mother" line was referring to a dominatrix he was seeing at the time, lmao. and the way sandra rolls her eyes when he says the latter makes me feel like he's definitely told her way too much about that situation ahgakldsjfkl

and he does call them both mother because he's a Freak with a capital F. listen, if shields, lewis, and sawyer didn't want me to interpret these characters this way they wouldn't have written those lines into the show, they're practically begging me to be freudian about it ghkladsjf

anyway! as far as his father goes, just like one raymond bean, he was way less involved in the kids' lives than his mother (who's. already pretty uninvolved. RIP). i think i saw a piece of lore saying his dad is a surgeon and tbh i like that idea, his father having some high paying job with long hours that keep him away from the house for extended periods of time, so i think i'm gonna keep it even if i'm misremembering :')

i think. robert is far less concerned with receiving his approval than his mother's lol. i think part of it is that with his father it already feels like a lost cause because he didn't go to anything ~important~ or ~sciencey~ in school, he pursued something creative instead, and so there was inherently no chance of impressing His Father The Impressive And Important Surgeon. another part of it is that his father was also around even less than his mother was, and robert tends to be a very out of sight, out of mind person when it comes to his emotional issues, so he didn't have much of a chance to dwell on it.

i think when it comes to his relationships to his parents in general though his need for approval from them specifically kind of subdued, at least when compared to chris. it's not that he doesn't have complexes about it, far from it, it's just that he's projected a need for attention from his parents onto other people around him instead of chasing their approval forever. a part of him understands that that ship has long since sailed in a way chris doesn't.

.....this wasn't mean to get so analytical ghlaksdfds i have to rein this back in so. ANYWAY. moving onto relationships lol

so.......this is where denise comes in. i actually haven't talked about her much, but i do have a lot of thoughts on her. let's see how much longer this post can get glkasdjfklsd

this may be controversial but i think robert was shockingly monogamous throughout his first few years of university. in my head, him and denise were high school sweethearts, met and started dating at age sixteen, and got married at age twenty and expected that they'd stay together forever

needless to say that Did Not happen lmao but i'm getting ahead of myself

anyway. outside of his weird situationship with chris, robert was super dedicated to denise, and their relationship actually was mostly functional for a while. they shared a similar sardonic (and occasionally dickish lol) sense of humor, they were pretty affectionate with each other, and they had similar goals in life.......at least at first. they had a very long honeymoon period where they didn't fight about anything, they went to the same university, there was an unspoken assumption that this was a soulmate never break up situation, both from robert and denise themselves and from their friends

which in speaking of their friends, i do think that because they were married at the time (again they married way too young), denise started out as a part of the chrissandrarobert friend group, and sandra and chris got along with her pretty well. in fact robert was kind of pissed off at how well chris and denise specifically got along, lmao (he had no problems with sandra and denise's friendship, but to be fair his and sandra's relationship was far less antagonistic ahglkasjdkf).

chris and denise weren't like, super close, but they clicked pretty well with each other and they'd play that up and pretend to be best friends just to piss robert off lol. and in their defense it was genuinely funny how actually annoyed it made him (especially when they pointed out their similarities to each other......god help him lmao)

yeah remember how i mentioned chris and robert's weird situationship. that wasn't The Factor that broke up the denise/robert marriage but it certainly didn't help hglkasdjfdsf. i think denise encouraged it at first cuz she found it funny and didn't think their homoerotic rivalry was a serious threat to their relationship at first......but then sandra informed her that robert was in fact bisexual (not realizing he wasn't out to her, she assumed he'd already told her, but he hasn't cuz he had some internalized biphobia issues and thought it'd make him less attractive to her) and well. then she started to get a little worried about how close those two were lol

again this was Not what broke up the relationship, though it certainly did not help :') i don't think denise is like, genuinely biphobic, but she is heterosexual and monogamous, and she did feel a little uncomfortable seeing him pseudo-flirting with his best-worst friend knowing that there was a chance he was genuinely attracted to him. which i think is pretty fair tbh, especially since he hadn't told her about his sexuality at first

(which, granted, was more about his own insecurity than an intent to cheat, but still. the communication around this particular situation was Not Great so she never really understood why he hid it and that just added to her discomfort 🥲)

tbh i think what contributed to the divorce is just the simple facts that 1) robert's worst traits only got Worse as time went on, so they got harder to ignore/excuse (and i don't think he ever abused her or intentionally hurt her, but he did get less sensitive over the years and denise is not the type of woman to let that slide) and 2) robert's dedication to the drama society was becoming more and more of an obstacle to the relationship

i think the actual divorce happened sometime between the play that goes wrong and peter pan goes wrong. to me denise is a firey, determined redhead who already knew she wasn't okay with watching her husband prioritize a drama society that's actively hurting him and their friends, and while i think there were a few disastrous performances before that already had her wavering and begging him to quit, the murder at haversham manor was so bad that it was just the final straw for her

tbh watching sandra get knocked out and the rest of them continuing on was probably the biggest thing that had her bowing out lol

i do think she still cares about him (and sandra and chris by extension) after everything, she just couldn't handle the disregard for their own and each other's safety anymore. that was too much for her

i think she's low contact with all of them, though occasionally she'll text them to make sure they're okay cuz she does still love them. it's just too hard to have them in her life, y'know? following that, she definitely does not follow play of the week, lmao, though she is simultaneously proud, disturbed, and baffled by their tenacity when it comes to their stage presences lol

though......and this is something that i've been thinking about writing as a fic for a while now (and that may or may not still happen. we'll see lol) but i do think that she does catch wind of how bad spirit of christmas was from her current friends (including the fact that robert mentioned never getting over her and that he lives in his car), and in a fit of protectiveness she willingly breaks her own boundaries and heads over to the theater to make sure her old flame and old friends are okay :')

i think she's the one who pushes robert to move in with dennis so he's no longer living in his car. she can't let him stay with her, but she does want him to be safe and have a comfortable place to live :')

i'm gonna end this here cuz it's a little too long as it is lol but it was fun to finally talk about this :D if you wanna hear more about this just lemme know ig i have more thoughts on robert than i realized lol

[sapphicrot]

okay that ask game is facinating so heres some 'revenge' for making me turn my brain on for microchip LMAO

RAPID FIRE FELIX!

👤 : if they could be described in one sentence, what would that sentence be?

💼 : what do they carry on their person? anything meaningful or is it mostly random?

🍜 : whats their comfort food?

🧠 : is there one memory they cant forget no matter how hard they try?

👻 : what are they scared of? did something cause said fear or fears?

🍀 : are they more lucky or cursed? has it shown up in their life?

💥 : what moment in their life felt like the world was ending?

okay now that i had my whining time i’m going back to what really matters: being insane about microchip

👤: If they could be described in one sentence, what would that sentence be?

Genuinely talented and caring despite his efforts to appear otherwise, and wears his heart on his sleeve. (Or: Dork ass loser)

💼: What do they carry on their person? Anything meaningful or is it mostly random?

Phone, keys, wallet, crutches, meds, chapstick and (optionally) sketchbook + pencils or his camera. He uses forearm crutches to walk on days where his pain is flaring up, though he hates admitting it and will often try to tough it out until someone points it out to him.

🍜: What’s their comfort food?

Hmmmm…I’m not sure! He does like spicy stuff much to the horror of his tummy hurty disease. Probably something his mom makes.

🧠: Is there one memory they can’t forget no matter how hard they try?

Well, any health scare probably. A more recent memory would prooobably be the first time him and Piper fucked, which causes some WONDERFUL problems over the course of the months after it, but eventually he doesn’t wanna forget that anymore :’) At first though yeah he REALLY tries to forget the way Piper looks at him when he gets back with his shitty ex.

👻: What are they scared of? Did something cause said fears?

Surprisingly he isn’t afraid of hospitals/needles/anything like that, despite most of his childhood being spent in and out of hospitals. He is pretty afraid of disappointing others though, since he doesn’t want to “waste” all the effort everyone put into keeping him alive just to do nothing with his life.

🍀: Are they more lucky or cursed? Has it shown up in their life?

DID YOU KNOW THAT FELIX LITERALLY MEANS LUCKY? I don’t think he’s noticeably lucky or unlucky, but he did manage to overcome the absolute dogshit cards he was handed, so I suppose he lives up to his name.

💥: What moment in their life felt like the world was ending?

2nd cancer diagnosis. He’d gone into remission but was diagnosed again when he was around 9. He barely remembers the first time (he was like, 4), but the main thing that actually made him feel like the world was ending was Moon’s reaction when their parents had to tell her.

Thankfully, he’s been in remission and cancer-free since he was 12! :D

[crazycurly-77]

Lost in the Jungle - pt. 6

Excited, worried and out of breath they reached your plane and searched for any sign of you, yelling “Y/N! Are you here?

Y/N!!!” 

Running around the plane they suddenly heard a faint “Hmmm…”

They immediately stopped their rummaging and listened into the jungle. 

Then they heard it again, but very faint

“hmmmm, I'm here.”

“Y/N!! We are here, keep talking!” Gibbs yelled and listened for her voice.

Then he heard her voice. Faint, but stronger than before and he thought he heard the angels sing. Yes, it was definitely your voice calling for him “Jethro! I'm here on the plane!”

He ran around the front of the plane as fast as he could and tried to open the door enough to get inside, but it was stuck. 

“McGee! The door is stuck, help me open it!” he ordered Tim who came running to him. 

Together they pushed against it with all their weight and suddenly it gave in. 

They quickly climbed into the interior of the destroyed and completely devastated plane and yelled your name again “Y/N, where are you exactly?” 

“In the back,” you answered as loud as you were able to. 

Tim and Gibbs climbed over the pieces of debris and finally saw you laying there with blood stains on you. 

“Y/N!” Both men screamed simultaneously in horror. 

Gibbs crouched down beside you and hugged you tightly. He felt like he could walk on air and a tremendous burden was lifted from him. Now everything will be fine again. He felt as lucky as never before to have finally found you and thanked all that was holy for that. 

He took your head in both hands and kissed you deeply. As soon as you felt his lips on yours you knew it wasn't a dream and he was really here. You kissed him back with all that's inside of you until you both broke away for air. 

He spread tiny kisses all over your face, always whispering “I found you. I love you. I love you so much.”

You cling onto him as if your life depended on it, whispering “I love you” over and over again. 

It felt like heaven to see and feel him again. You thought that he would surely search for you, but in those last days you had nearly lost hope that he would find you in time for you to be still alive. 

“Thank God, he is here to rescue me,” you sighed and prayed in your thoughts. 

Tim on the other side stood there and didn't know what to do and what to think. Seeing you and your boss hug and kiss and whispering to each other was surely something he could get used to, but at the moment he had a hard time grasping the obvious fact that the two of you were a couple. 

This scene was so intimate, that he felt absolutely embarrassed and out of place and had turned around trying not to disturb the both of you. 

After some time, Gibbs and you returned to reality and you looked past the most beautiful blue eyes that you love so much and you saw Tim standing a few meters away from you. 

Frightened, you looked questioningly at your boyfriend who just smiled lovingly at you and softly answered your silent question “he knows and he's okay with us being together. I had to tell him, because he guessed that we are more than colleagues because I was totally beside myself.”

Gently you stroked his cheek “I'm so sorry that you had to worry so much about me.”

“I'm just glad that I found you alive,” he answered and kissed you again. 

Then he queried “are you injured? There are blood stains on your clothes and your skin.” He searched you up and down with his eyes. 

“Those are just little bruises, but my leg is broken, I think.”

“Good. Not good. Anything further?” 

“No. I can't walk because of my leg and I'm hungry and thirsty, but that's all.” You assured him. 

“Why didn't you reach out to anyone?” Jethro inquired. 

“I couldn't, the radio is broken.” You answered and then asked back “but how did you find me?” 

“Ducky told us of your vaccination and McGee over there tracked the signal of the black box of your plane.”

You looked worried to your best friend “Tim. Timmy.” You spoke cautiously to him. 

He turned around and walked to the two of you. 

“It's okay, Y/N,” he began. 

“It needs time to get used to you two being together, but I'm very happy for you both,” he said smiling. 

You smiled back gratefully “thank you. I'm very glad that you are okay with this.”

“Of course I am. And as an affirmation I would hug you, but your boyfriend kneels between us, so you simply have to feel hugged by me.”

You both laughed dearly. 

All the while Gibbs was busy with patching you up and splinted your actually broken leg with a broken brace and a strap. 

Then he queried “how did you manage to survive? Do you have any food and water?” 

“I was able to stay afloat with the water and the food on board, which was still intact.”

Gibbs smiled proudly “you did well.”

You smirked “you know, there's a certain marine I know who taught me a few things about survival. Always be prepared.”

You winked and he laughed wholeheartedly and kissed you, both grinning madly and extremely happy to be able to be together again and of course both very proud of you. 

“Okay, then let's get out of here,” Gibbs said determinedly. 

“Gladly,” you and Tim answered.

(To be continued...in Chapter 7)

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Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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