#i feel like the firs half was good

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[itsalwaysdark]

also my dads become a spam head 👍👍

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

Hard Dom!Johnny Soap McTavish x Reader

Title: Tap out

Synopsis: You tap out, and Johnny takes care of you.

Warnings: Smut, safewords, overstim. It's hard dom.

AN: OMG this was one of the first fics I wrote for COD and about Johnny, so it's kinda special to me haha

The way he's off you like a repelled magnet as soon as you tap his wrist twice.

Johnny is having fun, choking you out with you laying down beside him--he's kneeling, merely shirtless. There's sweat running down that dimpled face and he's smirking, one hand on your collar bone, pushing in deep enough that you can feel it pool arousal in your tummy, your hand squeezing his arm as you ride waves of pleasure from his thumb circling your clit.

Tears are flowing down your cheeks from the overstimulation, anytime you feel like you're about to finish he stops and tuts, stopping his movements to ride it out further.

Then it's starting to get to be too much, from how he's forcing you down onto the bed. Your eyes look back up at his, all meek compared to the confidence he oozes.

Then your two fingers tap his wrist twice and it's the way Johnny practically flies across the room, hands in the air and off of you. You start to pant, trying to catch your breath and then he grows worried.

"Bonnie.." he mutters, walking to your side, tilting your head up, "wha' can I do fer ya? Wha's wrong?"

You feel tears form, but this time from feeling so overwhelmed. That's when he rushes out of the room, leaving you alone.

He comes back after a second, rushing in with water and a towel. He puts the bottle of water up to your lips, urging you to drink some. When does Johnny EVER want you upset?

"C'mon, Bonnie.. donnae cry.." he mutters, covering your lower half with the blanket and sitting down beside you. You try to calm down, his thoughts reeling with how wrong he feels.

He mutters something in Scottish under his breath, likely a curse onto himself, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to his chest. Johnny lays your head down into him, "I's okay.. I'm sorrae I wen' so rough.." he coos, petting your hair.

You start to calm down and you shake your head, explaining that it wasn't his fault but he shushes you, kissing your forehead.

"C'mon.. bonnie, I was the one'n control. I had ye held don'. I' was me."

He kisses your head again, "Do ye need yer clothes? Are ye okay?"

When you shake your head and start to get up he pushes you right back down, tutting. He gets up off the bed and bends over, grabbing the shirt he was wearing, then tossing it to you. You give the faintest smile and start to pull yourself through it, and he's in your underwear drawer, finding you a pair of underwear.

He balls it up and tosses the pair to you, turning around to let you put it on.

"Do ye need a bat' firs', acth'ly?" He asks, hands behind his head as he waits for you to finish putting on your underwear.

"No.. 'm good," you respond, and he lets out a little sigh. You stand up, finished changing and he turns around, crossing his arms.

"Do ye need a bat'?" Johnny repeats, unimpressed by your original response.

You sigh and give up, "Fine... I'll take a bath." He walks to you, opening his arms, but hesitating, "Can I pick ye up, bonnie?" You give a tiny nod, closing the distance and wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

He carries you to the washroom, and sets you on the counter to start your bath up.

"You wan' me in it, hen? Or no?" He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You think for a moment before nodding, taking a big deep breath. You take your clothes back off, and he sets them aside for you to put on when you're out.

He wraps his arms around you, lowering you down into the tub before getting undressed and getting into the tub with you.

He works carefully, lathering your hair with shampoo and cooing to you in Scottish Gaelic and English.

For a man with no reserve, who's a firecracker and a harddom, he really knows his aftercare.

[moonstruckme]

You asked for holiday fic ideas…

I was thinking ice skating with lanky Remus and he’s just so good at it and it’s shocking but clumsy reader keeps falling down. Just something fluffy and cute

(I know ice skating isn’t technically just for the holidays but that’s what I think of typically)

Love you darling <3

I think of ice skating that way too! Thanks for requesting <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 548 words

“You weren’t supposed to be so graceful, you know.” 

Remus smiles, skating alongside you while you grip the wall of the small outdoor rink for support. Sunlight refracts off the ice, making it look glittery and almost blindingly white, and at the top of the rink is stationed a plump fir tree, standing tall despite the oversized ornaments weighing it down. It had been your idea to book the two of you an hour-long slot in the rink, and you’d been even more excited about the plan when you found that Remus, like you, had never been ice skating before. Unfortunately, it seems he’s let you down by not being a complete disaster at it. 

“Would you rather I was falling all over the place?” he asks you. 

“Yes,” you answer. No hesitation, but you make it up a sheepish smile. “You have a higher center of gravity. It doesn’t seem fair that you’re naturally gifted.” 

“Right, I see. I’ll try to make more of an oaf of myself.” 

“I’d appreciate if you would.” You’re smiling. It crinkles the corners of your eyes adorably. “We were supposed to hold hands and be awkward and clumsy together. It’s not cute if it’s only me.” 

“Of course it is,” Remus says, softly enough that you look at him like you’ve not quite heard. He touches your shoulder fondly. “I���m sorry to have ruined your plan. We can still hold hands, if you like.” 

You look like you’re considering it, but you don’t take your hand more than a few inches away from the barrier before it’s flying back. “Thanks, but I think I need them both.” 

Remus can see how you would. You’d given ice skating a valiant effort, but after a series of falls he’s sure will result in a patchwork of bruises around your knees for him to kiss later, the wall has become your most treasured ally. 

“Do you want me to grab something that will help?” 

“If you mean one of those penguins the kids are using, I’m going to cut our hour short.” 

Remus chuckles. “We can go, if you want to.” Although the sun feels nice, the wind is cold. He’s willing to bet that if he pinched the tip of your nose between his fingers it’d be half frozen. 

You look over at him in surprise, then soften. “I don’t actually want to leave,” you say. “I was only joking. This is fun.” 

“Is it?” 

“I don’t know, are you having fun?” 

“I am,” Remus admits. “But I can stand on my own two legs. Are you having fun?” 

You shoot him a playful glare, but your smile undermines it. “Yeah.” You shrug, self-conscious. “I mean, I’m a bit edgy, but I’m still glad we’re here. I always have fun with you.” 

Without his permission, a coo comes from between Remus’ lips. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, careful not to put any weight on you as he kisses your head. “Oh, you’re such a melt,” he says into your hair, teasing. You laugh but don’t push him away. 

Eventually, you let him take your hands. Remus isn’t good enough to skate backwards, so you stick close to the wall, wobbly and faltering, but that’s alright. Now you’re awkward and clumsy together.

[searchingsomewhere]

Love and Deepspace Headcannons!

Here's some of my NSFW LADS headcannons! So this actually turned out a bit longer than I expected. I don't know if these count as headcannons, or just flash fics, haha. I had a ton of fun writing them. You can tell who my mains are lolo👀

I've also included a quote for funsies.

@gameboigyu @shengbiao-shiny @whoyoucallinpinheaddirtydan, @emprechoohana-blog Enjoy!

-Nero

NSFW below the cut.

Zayne:

Being the stoic man he is, he's very reserved when it comes to sex. He held back as long as he could for so many years. Part of him chastises himself for thinking such lewd thoughts of you, his patient and childhood friend, but the other half is enchanted by the way your hips move in those skirts, how your soft lips curl into a smile.

Loves when you sit in his lap. Normally he just enjoys having you close, but when you straddle his hips with your soft thighs, his hands can't help but wander. Over your thighs to grip your ass, dragging you across his hardening cock. Before long you're all flush faced and shy, grinding on his hard on, and he's clinging to whatever shred of self control he has.

His favorite position is you riding his cock, facing him so he can bury his face in your chest and neck. Zayne's pants and moans in your ear make you clench around his thick cock even harder. He often tugs on the slender tie he's tied your wrists behind your back with.

He claims to dislike fucking you in his office after hours, but the flush across his face and the way he grips your neck tighter when you moan his name says otherwise. He'll have you splayed across his desk, legs over his shoulders, before you can blink.

"Once we start, darling...I don't think I'll be able to stop."

Rafayel:

Rafayel talks big game, flirting with you ceaselessly, but he's actually rather shy. The first time he's got you pinned to the floor in his studio, his face is bright red.

He's super vocal, praise for you tumbling out of his mouth and into your ear, especially when you hook your ankles together behind his back. His hands slide from your wrists to intertwine with your fingers, tightly holding your hands above your head as his hips tenderly roll into yours. The movement is so sensual, so passionate, it's got your eyes rolling back.

He gets pussydrunk soo easily. One thrust in and you're all he can think about, the way you feel around his cock, how your skin glistens with sweat, the way your breasts bounce with every thrust. Your smell, your voice, his senses are just overwhelmed with the essence of you.

He's definitely got a praise kink. The first time you cried out how good he felt, he nearly came inside you right then and there. His thrusts get sloppier and uncoordinated and he can't pull out in time.

"Fuck, please, don't stop. I need you."

Xavier:

Like Zayne, he tries to hold back his true feelings at first. You catch the way he watches your thighs, the way he swallows slowly at how the fabric slips up your skin. One day, he can't stop himself.

Even while eating you out, he still keeps a tight restraint on his self control. You're already half out of your mind, back arching at the way he devours your sopping wet entrance. He's truly mastered how to please you, his tongue circling your clit and fingers sliding in and out of you. But still, you can tell he's holding back.

Whimpering his name is the key. That's when his eyes darken, his breaths get heavier. That's when he grips your thighs to throw them over his shoulders, to stuff you full of his thick cock. He's going hard and fast, completely unable to stop himself. Xavier's pussydrunk on the way you feel wrapped around him, and he worships every part of your body. Hands and mouth massaging your breasts, cradling your head to press his forehead against yours.

He loves hickeys. Giving them and getting them. You'll wake up with marks all over your neck and chest.

"You take me so well. So good for me."

Sylus:

This man is mean in bed. He's shamelessly flirted with you since he first saw you, and he fully intends to follow through with every subtle promise he's made.

He's in charge, but as much as he loves tying you up and making you beg for his cock, there's something exciting coursing through him when you handcuff his hands together behind his back. You ride him nice and slow, fucking yourself with his member, and all he can think about is how maybe he should be submissive more often.

Sylus is the type that enjoys fucking you rough. He slaps your face as he's hammering into your cunt, watching the way your pupils dilate with lust at the rough treatment. A quick slap to your quivering clit has you clenching him tighter and falling over the edge of orgasm.

Consent is the sexiest thing. Knowing that you fully want him to manhandle you, knowing that you're enjoying every second makes him wild. But he's still listening to you. One word from you, and he's wiping your tears, slowing down, kissing you gently and asking if you're okay.

He has you bent over, back arched and head pulled back so he can murmur filthy things in your ear right before he comes, more times than you can count.

"You're going to make me cum. That's what you want, hmm?"

[roordismo]

winners love winning - alexia putellas

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Warnings: suggestive MDNI 18+

Wordcount: ~1.1k

__________________________________________

You had been a barca fan as long as you could remember, being mesmerised by the likes of Iniesta and Xavi quickly turned into being a big fan of Vicky Losada and Mariona Caldentey. So when they came knocking on your door, it was an offer you simply couldn't refuse. You settled in easily, barcelona had always been your number one holiday destination and you were quickly growing fond of the team. However you liked your captain a little more than you probably should. The two of you met during an international game, swapping shirts after you lost the game, it made the loss a little easier to take. And now, she was shining for barca, playing like she always used to. She had a certain charm and you’d be flat-out lying if you said you weren’t attracted to her.

"We're going out tonight at Razzmatazz right?" You asked, as you were trying on another top. You were at Claudia's apartment with Patri and Cata, getting yourselfs ready before meeting the rest at the club. "Yes we are and your girlfriend ale, is also tagging along this time, please try to not to stare as much this time" Patri said, rolling your eyes at her comment. She teased you endlessly ever since she found about your thing for the captain. You were trying to show her a meme you saved in your tiktok favourites, but instead an edit of alexia popped up on your screen. "She's not my girlfriend, asshole" you responded whilst taking another shot. Pre-drinks at Claudia's were the usual every time you went out, it was their, and now also your way of getting ready. "We all know you wish she was" Cata mumbled, leaving you speechless looking redder than a tomato. They were planning on getting wasted and so were you, the already few days of vacation were gonna be spent on having the best time possible. First you were going out, then spending the remaining days on a group holiday, somewhere away from the public eye, preferably in Spain, before all leaving for the international break.

A few drinks in, they decided it was better to walk, the club wasn't that far away after all and some fresh air wouldn't hurt. "Mira, no more okay? Sé que todas son bromas, pero no quiero arruinar la amistad" you said in a half-whisper, holding the door open for the rest to come in. (Look, i know it's all jokes, but i don't want to ruin the friendship) You had been working on your Spanish, not feeling entirely comfortable, but it being good enough to hold proper conversations with your teammates. Unsurprisingly, Alexia was the first one you greeted "Ale! You finally stopped being boring for once!" Earning you a laugh from your captain, if only she knew how much you loved it. She was wearing quite a simple outfit, a top with a blazer and a pair of jeans, yet she still looked otherworldly. Resting your gaze onto her as she spoke to Ingrid and Mapi, your phone pinged:

- Patri: just kiss her already jesus

- me: callate, hdp (shut up, asshole)

You went back to your conversation with your captain, who was also having a conversation about the ballon d'or. It took less than a minute before your phone pinged again:

- Cata: stop eyefucking her pleaseeeee

This time you chose to ignore it, instead you sat down next to Esmee and Kika, who were talking about their holiday plans.

- you were added to "15 × 11"

You sighed, alexias and your numbers in the squad, this was in fact gonna go on the whole night.

- Clau: we've got an offer for you

- if you get with her before we leave, we'll pay for your drinks

- Cata: and if you go home with her to play cards ;) we'll also pay for your share of the group holidays

- me: i'll do it. But to make it clear, it's cause i want her, not the money.

I went up to talk to them, before shooting my shot. "I hate you guys", you said. "No you don't." Claudia responded as you walked away. You needed a drink first before you were shooting your shot. "2 shots porfa" planning on giving one to the Catalan woman. As you were giving her the glass you said "Ale, quieres bailar? Cata said you were being boring and "mature" as always, wanna prove her wrong?" This was your one chance and you weren't gonna waste a second. The music was getting louder and you weren't leaving much room for Jesus. "Que guapa eres..." (you're so hot) she breathed out, her hand tracing along your arm. "What did you say?" You asked, playing innocent even though you heard her loud and clear. "Nada, amor, nada." (Nothing, love, nothing) She turned you around, working your back into her, when you felt your phone buzzing again.

- Patri: perrear??? Se te ve la cabeza??? (grinding??? Have you lost your mind???)

“Jesus, you’re insane” you heard her mutter from behind you. It was just a matter of time before she’d give in. She pulled you away from the people into a bathroom stall, locking lips before the door even closed, her hands all over you. You kissed her back fiercely, yet letting her take control. As she kept you pinned to the thin bathroom wall, her hands started wandering. However you were snapped back to reality when you heard your phone ring.

- 15x11 is calling (videocall)

Groaning as you looked at your screen, you picked up. “What do you guys want this time?” you asked, clearly annoyed your moment got interrupted and trying to show as little of the Catalan woman next to you as possible. “We thought we lost you”, it was obvious they had seen you leave with Alexia, “but given you left with a certain someone, we think you’re all good”, they laughed, earning the finger. “amor, we’ve got some unfinished business, don’t you think?” she smiled against your lips, her hand moving along your spine. “we really do,” you replied, pressing your lips to hers once more. “My apartment it is”, as she moved away to get out of the bathroom. “We’re leaving guys!” You screamt, looking to see if your friends could hear you, as alexia was saying her goodbyes to the others.

- me: i got the girl, winners love winning

You texted, smiling whilst entering your captain's apartment. Both eager to get back to what you started.

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this is my first time doing this, lmk if you got advice or anything

[merakijinx]

A Gift from the Heart (toxicgf!Jinx) ｡𖦹°‧

Summary: It’s Christmas night, and Jinx gifted something special for you! However, your reaction wasn’t up to her standards..

Word count: 1.3k

(a/n at the end)

wlw

You were sitting on the floor next to Jinx’s workbench, hands over your eyes, when you heard a heavy thud land in front of you. “Open your eyes!” Your girlfriend’s voice rang out excitedly, and her cheerful expression matched her tone when you lowered your hands to see your blue-haired girl.

In front of you lay a cardboard box painted in red with a green bow running along the sides, and tied neatly on the top. “Wow, Jinx! What’s this? Looks so cute,” you said, giggling as you brought it closer to you.

“Open it and find out, toots,” Jinx responded, scooting closer to you so she could watch you closely unwrap her present.

“Okay..” You chuckled at her eagerness to watch you open the gift, not keeping her waiting any longer. You tugged on the green ribbon, letting it fall loose to the floor. When you took off the lid, there was a device that lay inside.

You took it out to examine it further, and recognized that it was a… sort of contraption where the center looked like it was altered (Ripped out and stuck in) to fit a mini-figurine of you and Jinx holding hands, rotating together within a ring of sparklers, like a music box.

“Jinx, this is so cute! What is it?” You asked, stifling a laugh at how chaotic the device looked. “It’s a Valdiani. Of us,” Jinx answered, her voice strained as she observed your reaction, chuckling nervously. “You like it?”

You leaned close to her with a hand cupping her face, and brought her cheek closer to plant a kiss. “I do. Thank you so much,” you said softly, then pulled away to tuck the device under the tree.

Jinx looked at you in confusion when you suddenly stood up and walked toward her couch, ending gift-giving time just like that. “So what do you say about watching a Christmas movie before we go to bed? I heard Carol’s a good one,” you said while walking on the propellor.

Her eyes shifted to the gift she got you, just sitting there underneath the Christmas tree while you were on the opposite side of the room. It was still spinning and sparkling under the fir tree. “Uh, a movie?” Jinx repeated, though her mind was elsewhere.

“Yeah, we can finish the rest of the cookies..”

Your voice drifted far away, and the other voices took over. Did you see how she reacted to your gift? She didn’t even like it!

She liked it, but she didn’t say she loved it.

The gift was too messy, she probably thought you half-assed it. She hates it.

How could you mess up a Christmas gift?

When you turned back around, Jinx was still sitting on the floor, spacing out into the void below. “Jinx?” You called out, but she didn’t respond. “Jinx..!” You repeated a little louder, and she snapped out of her trance. “Y-yeah, coming!” Jinx stood up and quickly walked over to you. It was Christmas, she wouldn’t let them ruin this night.

She brushed past you and slumped onto the couch, trying to play off her near panic attack l earlier. You crept up next to her, leaning yourself against her slowly to ease up the both of you. “Hey, you alright?” You asked gently. You could subtly feel her cold sweat, and she didn’t respond for a minute.

“What do you think of my gift?” She finally asked. “Your gift? I think it’s nice,” you replied simply. It was a nice gift, it was cute, simple, and meaningful.

“Just nice? Did you not like it?” You heard a hint of defensiveness in her tone now, and felt, too, the way she tensed up beneath your touch.

“No, I did like it-! I do,” you assured her, sitting back upright to face her directly.

For some reason, your withdrawal from Jinx just fueled her anxiety more. Why did you pull away? Are you fighting her now? No, Jinx, look at the bigger picture..

“You do,” She repeated, suspicious. “Then why did you just… you know, brush it off? Sweep it under the rug, or… Christmas tree in this case..,” She rambled, eyes darting away from your gaze as she slowly started losing herself. “I mean, usually that’s the time when you’re supposed to be all happy and over the moon, thanking me!”

“I didn’t! I didn’t mean to brush it off, I really do like it. I’m sorry.” You tried calming her down with reassurance and apologies, but you weren’t sure it was working.

“I worked really hard on that, you know..,” She finally said, her voice shaking now. “It’s a real Valdiani, you should be grateful,” Jinx dramatized, shifting the blame to you now. Her pink, shimmer-infused eyes were boring into yours intensely.

“What? It wasn’t on your wishlist? Too… tacky for ya’? I poured my heart into that, you know.. Into us.. Don’t tell me you’re just gonna ignore that? Gonna ignore that and… hurt me again,” Jinx ranted, inching away from you and curling herself into a ball. She was glaring at you now, arms crossed at her chest like she’s guarding herself from you.

“No, Jinx, please don’t think like that. I love it, it’s a meaningful gift. I’m sorry for hurting you, I didn’t mean to,” you apologized profusely, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder, to make her come back to you.

She slapped your hand away, shrieking, “Don’t do that! You’re just faking it, you’re looking at me like I’m crazy!”

In turn, she looked at you with defiance and fear— Fear of what you might do, or fear of how she’s acting, she doesn’t know.

You flinched, immediately pulling back when she pushed you away. “No- I’m sorry,” you managed to speak out softly as you watched her stand up, her hands curled into a tight fist.

“Hah, I give you my time and my-… my love and you’re gonna give me that… half-assed reaction?! My gift isn’t half-assed, I thought about it clearly!” She started raising her voice, but it was hard to tell if she was yelling at you or the ones that haunt her. Then, she looked back at you with a manic glint in her deep magenta eyes.

She placed her hand on the backrest of the couch and the other on the cushion itself, and loomed over you. “And you.. Am I not your… top one anymore? Your favorite gift out of all? Did I lose that spot, because of my tacky, not heart-felt gift?” She spat out sarcastically.

“Do you hate my gift? Is it not good enough, huh?” She looked intimidating but her voice was trembling, like you could hear the little girl seeking for your approval.

“Stop it please,” you whispered, tears building up in your eyes. “I love the gift, I love it. It’s still my favorite, you’re my girlfriend,” you tried to convince her. “It’s a pretty, meaningful gift. I mean, it’s a r-real Valdiani, isn’t that cool?” It was strenuous to smile through the worry and pain, but you would do anything to keep her by your side. Jinx can be terrifying, she could kill you at any time, but you love her, and you won’t let go.

It wasn’t your words that brought her back to reality, it was seeing the tears stream down your cheeks. The desperation and resilience on your face broke her, the walls she tried to build up crumbled completely, and she dropped to her knees before you.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, hands roaming your face like she was grounding herself with your presence. If there was anything she hated more than getting hurt by her loved ones, it was hurting those she loves the most. An angel like you shouldn’t be crying, and it shouldn’t be at her hands.

“Please don’t cry. You won’t leave me, right? I wasn’t being me,” she continued, now crying with you in regret of how she acted out.

“I’m sorry, babe. I lashed out, I’m sorry for ruining this night.. Please forgive me, doll. I was acting stupid, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Let’s just forget about this, okay?”

｡𖦹°‧

This is also my first time writing a fanfic with toxic Jinx, so I hope it was okay and notttt overboard.. I wrote this at like midnight so when I’m awake & sober I’ll probably be embarrassed at this fic

Took inspo from a headcanon where Jinx would overthink if you didn’t “like” her gift enough.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(Looks at lucius all lovey and a bit sad,,,)

Professor Trein would it be okay to pet or hold Lucius? I used to live with cats my whole life... But, you know, the whole, uh... Stuck in a different world thing.

He's also so fluffy,,,,, uuuu I'm just itching to squish his lil face,,, 🥺

A Storied Past.

Your peers often said that Trein was one of the strictest instructors in all of Night Raven College. He was a notorious stickler for the rules, demanded complete attention for his lessons, and lectured students incessantly on wearing their uniforms properly. It didn’t help that his face always looked as though it were frowning in disapproval.

But you saw it just then. The lifting of his brows, the way his grey eyes twinkled with sympathy. Something soft and warm and grandfatherly, like a well-worn blanket enveloping you.

“Of course,” Trein replied, gently depositing a black and white heap onto your lap. Lucius seemed to spill like a slow waterfall, folds of fat and fur folding onto you. “You may cuddle with him for as long as you like.”

Your heart leapt.

“R-Really?!”

“Really.”

With an exhale, Trein lowered himself into a seat beside you, his hands folding in his own lap. He emulated the very poise and decorum he expected of his students.

Trein fixed his gaze on you as you sank your fingers into Lucius’s fur. You half anticipated him to scold you for some minor infraction—not stroking in the right area, doing it with too much or too little force—but the scolding never came. Instead, he simply… watched as you languidly ran a hand up and down his familiar’s back.

A contented purr, like that of a low engine, kicked up. Approval from the cat.

Courage collected.

You dared to prod Lucius’s face. When he reacted with only a quiet mew, you bravely squished both cheeks with your thumb and index finger.

“Mrrrow.”

“Awww, you’re such a good kitty, Lucius!” you cooed. “No wonder why Professor Trein dotes on you.”

“… Do you miss them?” he inquired suddenly. The question, throwing you for a loop. You were thinking that he’d stay silent and simply supervise the entire time you played with the feline.

“Do I miss…?”

“Your own cats,” he clarified. “You kept them in your household in your home world?”

“Yeah.” You didn’t like how that one word came out wobbling like jello, didn’t like how vulnerable you sounded. “I miss them every day. I’m sure they’re being taken care of while I’m gone but…”

A lump had formed in your throat, and it was difficult to swallow. The space was left standing, waiting doe sound to fill it.

“I see.” Trein nodded attentively, picking up the conversation where you had left off. “That is understandable. Our animal companions are like family to us. I would be beside myself, were I to be separated from my beloved Lucius for who knows how long.”

For who knows how long…

You forced yourself to take a breath. A deep one, as if you were going to plunge into the ocean a second later.

“Professor, please be honest with me. Do you… Do you think I’ll ever be able to go home?” you asked, your voice the smallest it had ever been.

Your hand upon Lucius tensed. You tried to focus on him—his fluffiness, and the comfort and safety that it provided. If you could, you’d leap into a cloud of cat fur and bury yourself in it.

“… That, I cannot promise you,” Trein murmured. “However, I’m certain that the headmaster is doing everything in his power to search for a way for you to return.”

You fell silent. Hand on autopilot, absentmindedly stroking Lucius. Distracting yourself from the truth that you had been presented with.

“… It is alright to feel uneasy. Anyone would be in your situation,” came Trein’s calm reassurance. “You find yourself in an unknown land, surrounded by strangers. These are unusual circumstances, to be sure.

“You must allow yourself to feel sorrow and frustration. They are normal aspects of life, of being human. Let it out. Be sad, be angry. Do what you must to relieve yourself.”

He reached out, gingerly grasping your shoulder. Firm, with a slight tremble.

“When my daughters moved out of our home, I was overcome with great grief and loneliness. The house felt too large for one man. The corridors became roads that stretched for too long. I can only imagine you are going through something akin to that.

“Remember that you are never alone. That there is a light at the end of the tunnel, should you hold out for it. And… if you are ever in need of someone to listen, my door is always open for you.”

He attempted at a smile and only succeeded in half of one. Still, it warmed you to your core, almost wetting your eyes.

Maybe… Professor Trein isn’t so bad after all.

[blekitnyzamek]

Illustrations from "Blue Castle"

In Poland we have 5 translations of "Blue Castle" (and in the 1st one Valancy is not named Valancy but Joanna (Joanne); and I think it's funny enough to dedicate separate post about that in the future) and one of them has such a magical illustrations, that I need to share them <3

All of them are from this edition of "The Blue Castle"/"Błękitny zamek" (which was translated by Jolanta Bartosik) and were drawn by Katarzyna Karina Chmiel. Cover too, just look at it! I love this artstyle.

I will add quotes adjacent to the illustrations above them. That one is on title-page, gorgeous<3

Valancy went home by the short-cut of Lover’s Lane. She did not often go through Lover’s Lane—but it was getting near supper-time and it would never do to be late. Lover’s Lane wound back of the village, under great elms and maples, and deserved its name. It was hard to go there at any time and not find some canoodling couple—or young girls in pairs, arms intertwined, earnestly talking over their little secrets. Valancy didn’t know which made her feel more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

She [Valancy] had flatly refused to take either Purple Pills or Redfern’s Bitters. She had announced coolly that she did not intend to answer to the name of “Doss” any longer. She had told Cousin Stickles that she wished she would give up wearing that brooch with Cousin Artemas Stickles’ hair in it. She had moved her bed in her room to the opposite corner. She had read Magic of Wings Sunday afternoon. When Cousin Stickles had rebuked her Valancy had said indifferently, “Oh, I forgot it was Sunday”—and had gone on reading it.

Cousin Stickles had seen a terrible thing—she had caught Valancy sliding down the bannister. Cousin Stickles did not tell Mrs. Frederick this—poor Amelia was worried enough as it was.

Valancy had walked out to Roaring Abel’s house on the Mistawis road under a sky of purple and amber, with a queer exhilaration and expectancy in her heart. Back there, behind her, her mother and Cousin Stickles were crying—over themselves, not over her. But here the wind was in her face, soft, dew-wet, cool, blowing along the grassy roads. Oh, she loved the wind! The robins were whistling sleepily in the firs along the way and the moist air was fragrant with the tang of balsam. Big cars went purring past in the violet dusk—the stream of summer tourists to Muskoka had already begun—but Valancy did not envy any of their occupants. Muskoka cottages might be charming, but beyond, in the sunset skies, among the spires of the firs, her Blue Castle towered. She brushed the old years and habits and inhibitions away from her like dead leaves. She would not be littered with them.

“We’ll just sit here,” said Barney, “and if we think of anything worth while saying we’ll say it. Otherwise, not. Don’t imagine you’re bound to talk to me.”

“John Foster says,” quoted Valancy, “‘If you can sit in silence with a person for half an hour and yet be entirely comfortable, you and that person can be friends. If you cannot, friends you’ll never be and you need not waste time in trying.’”

“Evidently John Foster says a sensible thing once in a while,” conceded Barney.

“There’s our island,” he said gloatingly.

Valancy looked—and looked—and looked again. There was a diaphanous, lilac mist on the lake, shrouding the island. Through it the two enormous pine-trees that clasped hands over Barney’s shack loomed out like dark turrets. Behind them was a sky still rose-hued in the afterlight, and a pale young moon.

Valancy shivered like a tree the wind stirs suddenly. Something seemed to sweep over her soul.

“My Blue Castle!” she said. “Oh, my Blue Castle!”

Valancy and Barney turned under the mainland pines in the cool dusk of the September night for a farewell look at the Blue Castle. Mistawis was drowned in sunset lilac light, incredibly delicate and elusive. Nip and Tuck were cawing lazily in the old pines. Good Luck and Banjo were mewed and mewing in separate baskets in Barney’s new, dark-green car en route to Cousin Georgiana’s.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

thigh riding w slash

A/n: Yes yes absolutely

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, jealousy, degradation, squirting, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

HELP I couldn’t see the guitar when I saw this

Slash and those fucking cats.

You understood his love for them, you loved them too but when he paid more attention to them than he did you it bugged you.

It's not like he would ever purposefully ignore you just to spend time with the cats, they just stole his attention from you every now and then. More often than not. He gets distracted by cats on the streets, it's like he looks for them.

Slash is the leader of the cats, they come out of the crevices in the cracks of the cement to find him. Slash is seven cats in a trench coat.

He came back from tour the day before and had spent time with you, every part of you, but today he'd been spending most of his time with the cats. They kept coming up to him and he couldn't just turn them away, that would be rude.

You were sitting in bed curled up next to him as a movie played on the TV in your shared room. It was just the two of you and that got you thinking.

You tugged your shorts down and started rubbing your clit, having opted out of wearing panties earlier. Obviously Slash noticed and smirked down at you. "Thought you would've had enough of touching yourself by now." His voice was low and soft in your ear as his arm snaked around you and his hand replaced your, thick fingers taking care of your sensitive nub.

You leaned into him and relaxed into the bed, letting your body get the attention it deserved, soft moans leaving you as his fingers moved faster.

The opened, which was strange since no one else was home. You couldn't see what happened immediately but you knew exactly what it was when you heard a meow and that grey figure hopped up onto the bed.

One of the cats had managed to open the closed door and snuck in during your time. Slash covered you up and wiped his hand on the sheets before reaching for his cat.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Cock blocker..." You muttered.

"Aw, you made her mad." He teased, holding the cat and kissing its head. You could swear you saw the side eye it gave you.

"What happened to my attention?" You asked, looking up at him with a pout and big eyes.

"You got your attention." He said, petting the cat peacefully with his clean hand. You scoffed again and pushed the blanket down, revealing your naked bottom half. "Not my fault the cat came in." You crossed your arms over your chest, turning your nose up to him and looking back to the TV. "If you really that desperate get yourself off in front of the cat."

You'd prefer it if the cat wasn't here at all but if he insisted on giving it more attention than you then so be it.

You moved to straddle Slash's lap, when he saw what you were doing he figured he'd be nice and move down on the bed so you at least wouldn't be fighting the cat for space on his lap, though he still played with the cat before thinking of looking at you.

He was still in his jeans, not ready to strip for bed yet. Feeling the fabric as your dragged your clit over it was almost too much, it felt so fucking good.

You kept grinding on his thigh to get yourself off, hands moving from your own legs to the mattress, never staying for too long and continuously trying to find the perfect spot to rest. Whenever you rode him your hands would be on him, on his stomach or chest, sometimes on the headboard or wall, but those weren't options with the fucking furball in the way.

You whined and whined, waiting for something but he just kept petting and staring at the cat, occasionally mumbling something to the cat about you, how whiny and needy you were. "Making mommy all jealous, are you?" He smiled at the cat. Of course you were the cats parents because Slash was losing his mind, how could he pay attention to it when you were all ready for him?

"Slash, please." You whined, reaching for his wrist.

"I told you to get yourself off." The first thing he'd said directly to you in a while.

"I know, and I can just please pay attention to me." He sighed and pushed you off of him, taking the cat and walking towards the door. Your eyes stayed glued to the wet spot on his jeans as he locked the cat out of the bedroom and came back to you.

He sat with his hands behind his head. "I'm not fucking touching you." You pouted slightly at the harsh tone but accepted nonetheless and got yourself back onto his thigh and continuing your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

This wasn't much better than when the cat was in the room, he still wasn't looking at you, he wasn't touching you. "Fucking slut, thought I was done with you last night." He'd mumble such harsh words into your ears. It hurt to hear him say such things about you but it felt so good, tying up a knot in your gut.

He knew what he was doing, he always knew what he was doing with you and when that knot finally snapped and you came hard on his thigh, squirting all over him and making a mess, you knew you'd be rewarded for your good work.

"Oh, fuck." He muttered, pushing you back a bit so he could watch your cum soak into his jeans. Your body trembled and your arms stayed wrapped around him as tears fell from your eyes.

He looked up at you with a smile, a bigger one than he'd give the cats for sure. "What a good girl, making a mess on my leg like that all by yourself?" You smiled and nodded as he let you cling to him tighter once more.

"I-I can get attention now..?" You asked, your voice soft with a pleading tone.

"Of course, anything you want." He said, kissing your cheek. You gave a small amused hum at that.

"No more cats in the bedroom." He gave your ass a smack.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A purrfect Christmas

Written for day 16 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles, and the 12 Days of Christmas bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Tree (for both)

Rated: G

Tags: Established relationship; Domestic fluff; Cat dads Steddie; Christmas

Notes: Set in the same universe as this one

Steve chucks off his muddy boots in front of the apartment, groaning when his grocery bags almost slip from his hands in his attempt to unlock the door. 

“I’m home,” he calls, swiftly kicking the door shut again. Alfie has a tendency to escape, and if there’s one thing he doesn’t feel like doing tonight, it’s chasing an adventurous kitten all through the apartment building. “Just so you know, I’m not setting foot into another store before the holidays are over, it’s madness out there.” 

The only answer he gets is a delighted mrrrrp. That, and the feeling of a small, furry body rubbing against his calves. 

“Hey Gus,” Steve says. “Where’s your brother and dad?” 

“Meowr,” says Gus helpfully, weaving between Steve’s legs as he makes his way into the apartment. 

“Yeah yeah, I bought you food,” Steve grouses. “At least let me walk into the kitchen? I swear to God, one of us is going to break all the bones in his body if- Jesus Christ!” 

One of the bags lands on the floor as Steve clutches the living room door for support. The ornament he just slipped on rolls off into the shadows and Gus gives chase with a delighted mewl.

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, bending down to retrieve his fallen bag. There’s two more ornaments lying a few feet off, and another one behind those. An entire trail of them, leading all the way into the living room, right up to … 

The second bag thunks to the floor. 

“Eddie?” Steve calls, voice weak and shaky. “Eddie, why is the tree upside down?” 

“Oh, you’re home!” Eddie pops his head out of the kitchen. “Do you like it?” 

“Do I- what?” Steve stammers. The grocery bags are left abandoned in the hallway as he wanders further into the living room, eyes glued to the sight in front of him. “Why- … It was normal when I left, why did you-” 

“Pffff, define normal.” Eddie walks into the room, Gus trailing by his heels, tail raised in a high, excited arch. Alfie is perched on his shoulder, eyeing the hanging tree with shivering whiskers and a twitching tail. “Did you know that the tradition of hanging fir trees from the ceiling actually dates back to all the way to medieval Germany? Lore has it that it was invented by Saint Boniface in an attempt to remind his fellow citizens-” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve interrupts him. Eddie snaps his mouth shut but doesn’t stop grinning. “Thanks for the history lesson, but- … I don’t see why … What’s Saint What’s His Face got to do with our Christmas tree?” 

Eddie watches him gesture helplessly at the inverted tree and shrugs.  

“Excellent question, honey. Legend says it was a symbol for the Holy Trinity, but my personal assumption is that the good man must’ve been a cat dad.” 

Steve stares at him. Eddie grins proudly. On his shoulder, Alfie starts to purr, like he knows they’re talking about him. 

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Steve says at long length. “Tell me why the dead German dude had cats.” 

“Well, it’s obvious,” Eddie claims. He throws out a hand to point at the hanging tree. Alfie makes an indignant sound as he sways on his shoulder. Gus stares up at him with the adoring look of a younger sibling wishing they could be half as cool as their older brother. “You know how our two charming little rascals here have been wreaking havoc on the tree? Well, you can’t climb and tip over something you can’t reach, can you, boys?” 

Gus lets out a pathetic little mewl, like a child deprived of their favorite toy. Alfie tilts his head like he's hoping it will magically turn the tree back around. Steve, who spent the better part of yesterday putting the tree back up and gathering scattered ornaments and snapped branches off the living room floor, shuts his mouth and wrinkles his brow.

“That's… actually a good idea.” 

Eddie's chest puffs out. “I know, right? Took me the better part of the day to set up, and I still need to find a way to keep the ornaments from falling off, but it might be worth the effort if- Alfie, no!” 

Steve is just on time to see Alfie crouch, ears pressed flat against his head, ass wiggling in the air as he takes aim. Then he jumps. He hits the tree like a tiny, furry projectile, sending it swaying with the force of his impact, and immediately starts swatting at the nearest ornament. On the ground, Gus mewls his adoration. 

The ceiling creaks. 

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, deliberately calm, holding out his hands and approaching Alfie one inch at a time. “Okay, lesson learned. Nobody’s using me as a climbing post for the next four weeks. Now come back down and everything-” 

Gus jumps, grabbing the tip of the tree with all four paws. For a moment, he hangs there, smug satisfaction written all over his face. 

Then the tree comes down. 

A rain of pine needles and mortar and ornaments descends on the living room. Two shrieking blurs of fur shoot over Steve’s feet and out of the door, claws leaving marks in the carpet.

“Gandalf and Radagast Harrington-Munson!” Eddie hollers. “Come back here and- Why are you laughing?” 

“Y’know, this is on us, really,” Steve says, wiping the tears from his eyes and reaching out to pick a twig out of Eddie’s hair. “Maybe we should wait until they’re older before we try putting up a tree again.”

Eddie scowls, so he leans in to kiss it off his lips. 

“I thought this was a good idea,” Eddie whines when they pull apart. “And now look at this. It’ll take forever to clean up.” 

Steve shrugs, pecking his cheek and grabbing his hand to pull him from the room. “Leave it for tomorrow. For now, we have two traumatized kittens to check on.” 

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie Bingo

[octuscle]

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

There are holidays that I'm convinced the world doesn't need… St. Patrick's Day, for example. I think it's perfectly fine to be proud of your heritage. I mean, I have an Italian grandmother. I'm totally proud of that. She makes the best pasta in the world. Hehehe, if you look at my belly, you can tell.

You see St. Patrick's Day parades on every channel. It's pure brainwashing! I look at my stomach again… Maybe I'll use the day to do something for my fitness. The streets are full of happy people. Intrusively cheerful people with funny green hats.

The guy at reception is wearing a green T-shirt. And has a shamrock painted on his cheek. I could puke. "Hi mate, nice to see you. Not much going on today. But we'd like to take a few pictures for social media later. Something along the lines of today-we've-trained-in-green. Would you wear this tank top for training?" He holds something green out to me. Fortunately without a shamrock or a funny gnome. It looks like a rugby jersey. Maybe a little big. I smile painfully. "Mate, give yourself a jolt! I'll give you a protein flat rate and free training for three months!" You don't care about the protein flat rate. But free training for three months… You'll save a good 150 dollars. Then it won't be so bad that you come here so rarely.

"Come on, give it to me!" you say and give him a fist bump. Fist bump? What's wrong with you today? All right… Put on your jersey, half an hour on the cross trainer, then maybe a bit of chest training. And then that should be it. And if you absolutely have to post pictures of it. You go to the changing area. Yawning emptiness. Exactly to your taste, actually! You undress, put on the sweatpants and then the jersey. You take a quick look in the mirror. An overweight quarter-Italian in a green rugby jersey. You doubt that this will bring the gym even one new follower, let alone a customer.

You usually start on the cross trainer with low resistance. Today you can try something new. It's empty, no one is watching, you can't embarrass yourself. So you go to the rowing machine. You have no experience with that. So you hit the maximum resistance. And off you go! After half an hour, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. Your jersey sticks to your chest, soaked with sweat. The gym employee stands in front of you with a grin. "Bro, those were some really awesome shots! What are you up to now?" You grumble that rowing is a good base for lat training. And that you're currently doing antagonist training. So combine it with chest training. "Nice, that should make for great pictures." You don't give a damn that the camera is following you the whole time. Focus on the training. And finally, no consideration for others. Moan and grunt when you feel like it. And today you're lifting the heavy weights. That requires a loud scream or two.

Shit, you've been here for almost three hours. You're done. You shout to your gym's social media representative that it's time for the final show. You take off your slightly too tight jersey with some difficulty. And wring out the sweat. You smile at the camera and say "Happy St. Patrick's Day, bros! Stay focused and train hard!" Your buddy gives you a fist bump and says it was a lot of fun with you again. You hand him your cell phone and ask him for a photo. For your own account.

Caption: "Is as Éirinn a thagann fir réadúla i gcónaí! Buailigí, a chairde, agus go raibh Lá Fhéile Pádraig iontach agaibh!"

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | left behind

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.9k

warnings: angst, angst, angst. so much angst. ep two spoilers. tess's death. grief. loss. infected stuff. reader is tess's younger sister. age gap. more angst. so much angst. slightly violent reader.

synopsis: in which joel honours a promise he made to tess that means he must force reader to leave your infected sister behind in boston. resentment and a bit of hurt/comfort ensues as you head to frank and bill's.

sibling!tess x reader, reader x joel, little bit of reader x ellie

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

“Holy shit. She’s infected.”

You didn’t think the world could fall apart twice, but you look at Tess as Ellie's words settle in and realise you were wrong. Here you are again, losing everything. This time, you don’t know if you can survive. 

“Tess…” you whisper, shaking your head slowly. “No. No. No.” 

Beside you, Joel is deadly still. He looks at your sister with such detachment that you want to scream. This is Tess. Fucking Tess. 

But you know him. You know he’s good at switching off when things get tough. Not like you. You wear your heart on your damn sleeve, and you can’t fucking do this. You look at her again, heart breaking. You feel every tear, every shard slipping through your ribcage. Tess is motionless — resigned. She wears sadness, but no fear. None anybody but you can see, anyway. You grew up with her. You can see the fading light in her eyes in a way the others won’t. 

And you don’t know what to do.

“Let me see it,” Joel orders quietly.

“Joel…” Tess pleads. 

“Show me,” he growls. 

Bitterly, she tears down the collar of her shirt, revealing the infection blossoming across bruised veins. Your knees threaten to buckle, nausea rising in your throat. 

“No.” Tears slip down your cheeks, and you’re already searching the room again for some hint the Fireflies might have left, some sign that it won’t end like this. “No. The girl is a cure. If we can just—”

Tess is saying your name. You’re not listening. If you listen, it will be real. If you listen, you will have to say goodbye to the only family you have left. 

“Joel,” she’s saying now. “This kid… this kid is real, okay? You gotta get her, get them both, to Tommy’s. He’ll know where to go, what to do.”

“No. No, I’m not doing that,” he replies. 

You’re still rattling around, searching old papers and nooks for something, anything; as though you’ll find a miracle in the shadows. 

“If not for the kid then for her.” Tess’s voice rises. You squeeze your eyes shut, your back turned to her. “She needs you, Joel. This is the end of the road for me, but you need to keep going. Promise me."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you shout, throwing the first thing you find against the wall. It smashes to dust. “We’ll find a way out of this, Tess. We always fucking do. Let’s just stop and figure it out!” 

“There is no figuring it out.” Tess marches over to you, gripping your face in her hands. You try so hard to fight it, so hard to stay in denial, but you look at her drawn face and know she’s already half-gone. You know the worry furrowing her brows isn’t for herself, but for you. For what will happen to you now. She practically raised you, toughening you up or else cradling you through the bad nights, never any in between. It made you both strong and so unbearably weak. Not like Joel, who has never let anything touch him. 

You choke on a sob and close your eyes. “Please, Tess. Please. This can’t be it. I need you.”

“I need you. I need you to be safe. I need you to keep going. Please, sweetheart.” She softens, brushing the tears from your eyes. “Please. For me.”

“No—” 

The sound of moans and the shuffling of uneven footsteps interrupt your protest. Joel goes to the window and curses, readying his gun. “Infected. Shit tonne of ‘em. We gotta go.”

You grab Tess’s wrist without thinking. “Come on.”

But she slips out of your grasp, stepping away from all of you. Ellie has tears in her eyes, but she says nothing, looking for the first time not to Tess or Joel, but to you. 

“I can buy you some time, but you have to run. You have to go,” Tess whispers. 

You shake your head again, ferociously this time. “No. No, I’m not leaving. If you stay, I stay.”

She snaps her head away. “Joel. Get her out of here.”

You fight back a bitter scoff, fists curling at your sides — but then hands lock around your arms, nudging you away. “Come on," Joel grunts. "We have to go. Now.”

The betrayal stings. This is fucking Tess. Of all people, he should want to help her. He shouldn’t be giving up on her. 

You snarl, “Fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere!” 

He doesn’t let up, face carved from stone. “We can’t stay,” he hisses, ducking his head to meet your eye. “You want us all to die?” 

“You go! I’m not—”

“Now, Joel!” Tess is yelling. “Get her the fuck out of here now!”

He swears under his breath again and then his arms are like a vice around your waist, your feet lifting from the floor as he drags you away, kicking and screaming. 

“No!” You’re shrieking now, vocal cords ripping apart as you try to reach for your sister. "Tess!"

But she doesn’t reach back. She turns away, and you know with certainty it’s the last time you’ll see her face. 

“Tess, please!” Sobs erupt from you, and you fight harder now, but Joel is too strong, too broad, too heavy-handed to let you go. “Please! Please! Let me go! Let me stay with her! She's my fucking sister, Joel!” 

The fresh air hits you all at once. One moment you’re there, watching your sister get smaller and smaller as infected scratch and rattle the doors, and then you’re back in the rubble of the drab city, the gold dome of Massachusetts State House dwindling. 

And then exploding.

As your feet finally hit the floor and you try to nudge Joel away, the earth cracks with black smoke and you’re thrown to the ground. Joel’s warmth shields you, and you feel Ellie trembling at your side. 

Silence blankets you like ash. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend it. Any of it. 

You shove Joel to look back at the State House. The building that is no longer a building, just debris and fire. 

The building where your sister was standing not a moment ago. 

“No.” You say the word differently now. Softer. Devastation pierces through it, through you. She’s gone. Tess is gone. 

“Darlin’...” Joel puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, and fury sparks through you. 

“You did this!” you scream, hitting his chest again, and again and again. “You took away my choice!” Because the truth is, you would sooner have died in there with Tess than carry on without her. “You took away my fucking sister!” Because he’d gotten her into the jobs, the smuggling. He’d done all of this. 

Joel doesn’t react, barely even budging as you slam into him. His jaw is set, trembling, throat bobbing, and finally he catches your hands and locks his fingers around your wrists. “Look at me.” 

You can’t. You can’t look at him, or anywhere else. You want to vomit. You want to disappear. 

Instead, your chin wobbles and your ribcage opens up and everything pours out of you as you wail. 

He catches you as you sink to the ground, pulling you to his chest, and you’re too weak to push him away now. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, rocking you gently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. There was nothing else we could do. Nothing else I could do. But look at me. Please look at me.” He grips your jaw just as Tess had, and you flinch. You hate him. You fist his shirt between your fingers and you want to destroy it, destroy everything around him. 

Except you don’t. He’s all you have left, and the realisation makes you numb. Joel fucking Miller is the only goddamn person you have. 

You do as he asks. You look at him. 

“She bought us time," he says. "We can’t waste it now. Do you understand? We can grieve her later, but right now, we gotta go. We have to get up and keep going. For Tess.”

You hate that he’s right most of all. As you begin to shut down, shock taking over, you look back at the smoking State House and stand. And then you clutch Joel’s collar and bare your teeth. 

Ellie stumbles towards you, eyes round with fear, but you’ve lost the will to care about her presence. You’ve lost everything today.

“Don’t you fucking say her name again,” you snap. “You lost that right. I blame you. I blame you for who she became, who we’ve all become.”

Anguish curls across Joel’s features, but you refuse to feel guilty. You let him go roughly and grab your backpack off the floor, the same one you’d clutched during the outbreak just after you’d watched your parents get savaged by your infected neighbours, Tess dragging you to safety. You’d been thirteen years old, and your sister had gotten you through hell and back, that night and every other one that came after. 

“It shouldn’t have ended like this,” you whisper into the wind, swallowing your own tears. 

It’s the last moment you allow yourself to have, and then you wipe your damp cheeks and glare down at Joel again. 

“Get up. Let’s go.”

He does, looking winded as he rises from his knees to his feet. You allow him to lead the way only because he knows the city, knows his way around, far better than you did. Tess rarely let you do jobs out of the QZ, protective until the bitter fucking end. 

You wish more than anything you could have protected her. 

***

You don’t get the chance to catch your breath again until you get to Bill and Frank’s — which is empty. You never met them yourself, but you know Tess warmed to them, so to find them dead too… it feels like the last piece of good in the world is truly gone. You slump onto their couch still wrapped in numbness as Joel and Ellie gather supplies, reluctant to so much as look at you. Later, you hear them talking about showering, and Ellie thumps up the stairs, leaving the place quiet. You should wash, too. You should eat, drink, prepare for whatever comes next, but you can’t move. Can’t do anything. 

After minutes, or perhaps hours, of silence, Joel kneels in front of you with a plate of food. “You need to eat, darlin'. I know it’s hard, but you have to.”

You hate him calling you that. He never used to call you that. He barely addressed you at all, stubborn, grumpy old man he is. But he’s been family for a long time, and the three of you… 

You got by together. Until now. 

You glance down at the food and your stomach turns. 

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. It surprises you, that vulnerability bleeding into his words — and it seems to surprise him too, by the look on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Not once. 

You take a bite for that alone. It’s dry in your mouth, and you find it hard to swallow, so you push the rest away. He sighs and puts it down on the coffee table, swapping the plate for his flask. You take a swig, whiskey burning like vinegar in your throat. 

“If I talk,” he asks, “will you listen?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “No, I don’t feel much like listenin’, Joel.”

Still, he takes your hand. You glare at your intertwined fingers but make no move to pull away. Perhaps part of you still needs to be coddled, taken care of the way Tess might have.

And maybe you need to know you’re not alone. That he isn’t going to give up on you the way he so easily did with Tess. Which is sick, you know, but you’ve never much been able to help the way you feel about him. The way you have always wanted to peel away his layers and understand him. Tear away his self-hatred, guilt, grief, for whatever horrors he faced before. 

“I didn’t want this. Not for Tess and sure as hell not for you.”

“I told you,” you bit. “I told you not to say her name.”

“I made a promise to her a long time ago.” He continued as though you hadn’t spoken, his brown eyes pleading. “I promised that if something happened to her, I would always protect you. That’s what I did today. I was honouring that promise, and honouring your sister. If you need someone to blame, someone to hate, if that makes it easier, go ahead. But don’t think for a second that this was a choice I wanted to make. I cared about her. I care about you. And even if I have to drag you kickin’ and screamin’, I’m getting you to Wyoming, to Tommy. You and I still have a job to do.” Slowly, as though unsure how you’ll react, he tucks your hair behind your ear. “That kid needs us, but we need her a hell of a lot more if the cure is real. And I… I need you. I need you here with me, safe. I ain’t losing another…”

He bows his head, words thickening.  “I ain’t going back on my promise to Tess, so you can make it difficult as you like. You can never lay your damn eyes on me again. But I’m getting you through this.”

A tear drips down your cheek, your entire body trembling as the sorrow, the grief, finally takes over. 

“Oh, baby,” Joel whispers, voice full of the same loss, the same pain. 

A whimper escapes you as you put your head in your hands. You can’t even hate him now, because you can imagine your martyr of a sister asking Joel to do just that. To protect you above all else. Still, you despise it — despise that your choices were taken away, your voice ignored. 

“I should have been with her,” you say. “She shouldn’t have died alone.”

“She died knowing you were being taken care of.” He squeezes your knee with rough hands. “She died knowing she saved us. It’s the best anyone could’a done. I wish it could have been different.”

“I don’t know how to do this without her,” you admit, because how can you keep it all in? All the love you had for her, all that grief… where will you put it when it’s spilling out of you without warning? 

“That’s something we’ll figure out,” Joel responds. He’s drawing circles into your lower thigh now, the pad of his thumb wearing down your denim jeans slowly. Wearing you down slowly. “You should take a shower then see about finishing your food. That hot water… it’ll help. And I won’t be mad if you use it all before I get my turn.” He offers you a small smile.

But you can’t imagine anything ever helping. You close your eyes, sinking back into the couch. “In a minute. I just need…” You don’t know what you need. If you’re being honest, you need Tess. 

As though knowing it, Joel rises, the couch cushions dipping with his weight beside you. He lets out a soft sigh, fidgeting with his fingers. You feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face. 

A moment later, he’s draping a blanket over you, and your lids flutter open again in confusion. 

“S’okay,” Joel says. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

You don’t need to be told twice. But when you try to nod off, you only see Tess burned on the inside of your eyelids. Her face the last time you saw it. The bite. Her pleas for you to go.

You give up quickly, aware Joel is still beside you, unmoving. It isn’t like him to not be moving. 

Rubbing your face, you sit up, pushing the blanket off. “Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Blaming you... it doesn't make it fucking easier. I understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t like it. But if you ever take away my choice again… I won’t go on with you. I can’t. I know you and Tess still see me… saw me,” you correct with a wince, “as a kid, but I’m not. Not anymore. And I sure as hell ain’t your responsibility.”

“I don’t see you as a kid,” he says quietly. “And I don’t see you as my responsibility, either. Honestly?” He purses his lips, tapping on the arm of the couch before he continues, “I see you as the only damn thing worth going out of my way to protect. Make of that what you will. Just… don’t expect me to let you die if that’s your choice. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I won’t apologise for it, either.”

You’re not sure what to say to that; what it means. Why Joel, of all people, is the one to say it. You always thought he and Tess… 

“Why? That promise mean so fucking much?”

“Yeah." He looks at you as though for the first time. "Yeah, it does."

You don’t have the energy to wonder what it means anymore. Instead, you pull yourself up on unsteady feet. Your mind is racing, and that shower is sounding better as reality sets in. Just in time, Ellie returns with damp hair and fresh clothes. She offers a small, reassuring smile, and you ruffle her hair, feeling guilty that a fourteen-year-old was subjected to everything you went through in Boston. Whoever she is, whatever purpose people want her to serve… she’s just a kid, and you couldn’t hold it together for her today. That makes you a shitty chaperone.

“My turn,” you mumble, glancing at Joel a final, wary time before heading upstairs. His expression doesn’t change, but you see something new in it now. Something strange. 

Something that looks an awful lot like care.

[youronlydarlin]

Okay…maybe could you do something like Simon fucking you to the summoning by sleep token…literal baby making song??? 🥹

AHHHHHHH NONIE YOU GET ME YOU GET MEEE

You are SO right about it being baby making music, because Simon fucks your guts so deep like he's trying to put something in there.

It's pitch black in the room. Utter darkness enveloping you both. You can't see anything, as if you're trapped in a neverending night. Relying solely on the goosebumps forming on your skin to know where he's touching.

Your lack of vision heightening your reflexes. And you twitch and tremble like a small defenseless bunny caught in the jaws of a metal trap.

His fingers easily cage around your neck, avoiding your windpipe but cutting off enough oxygen to make blood rush into your head and leave you panting like a dumb mutt. Successfully making you addicted to the feeling.

He easily pins your torso to the bed just like that. While your lower half doesn't even touch the sheets. No, it's wrapped around his toned waist, the position makes it so that he's towering over you. On his knees, and downwards angle he's fucking you in makes it feel like he's hitting deeper and deeper with each push inside.

Simon is a dirty, dirty, man. Having you practically screaming on his cock isn't enough. He wants you drunk on it. Like you won't survive without it.

Two speakers loudly play the song, and he's leaning down to whisper the lyrics into your ear.

"You've got my body, flesh and bone, yeah The sky above, the Earth below.."

And all of a sudden you're throwing your head back. Curling your toes and cumming your brains out. He laughs at you, to think that was all it took to ruin you. But, he has to admit, it ruined him too.

Cause fuck. Now you're throbbing so much and he's pulsing your walls actively milking him fir all he's worth.

The song continues on, and he fucks you through the chorus, then the instrumental. Until he's reaching his favorite part. But despite feeling like being in the brink of unconsciousness you could proudly say that it's your favorite too.

Heavy sounding beats blasts through the speaker as if they're begging to be let out. Simon mouths the lyrics and sings along, you silently mull over how the darkness prevents you from seeing it. But his hypnotic voice is quick to keep all the thoughts away that aren't about him.

"Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cut me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad..."

Simon accentuates every word with heavy thrusts while he times the movement of his hips to the rhythm. Your eyes roll back. Subconsciously preparing yourself for the second of many more rounds to come.

a/n: I BEG OF YOU. LISTEN TO THE SONG. IT'S SO MUCH BETTER WHEN YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES. I actually had to listen to it for this, mainly because I only know it through, my love astarion. Thank you for this btw, love. Really inspired me. M' also sorry that I only got to post once. I took the time out of a busy day to hang out with my sister. I hope you liked this, hun!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[vickyyoon]

Professor!hyunjin

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Genre: smut

Paring : professor!hyunjin x fem!reader

C/w: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, reader is a student, fingering, kind of exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of getting reader pregnant etc.

Synopsis : after failing his subject, your mother puts you up for extra private sessions with your professor which goes right and wrong...

It's a bit long 😅....

Anyways (pt-2) <- is here

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Professor hyunjin, he was your litterature teacher and everything that fell out of his mouth was purely majestic, he was the best looking professor out of the whole university maybe even in the world.

Not even younger boys could come close to look this great as him, words aren't enough to describe how beautiful he was, he was literally sculpted by the gods in shorter terms.

His voice was soothing, his eyes held pure emotions, his plump pink lips were soft, his hair was was softer, his nose was perfect, his veins often bulged out of his sculpted arms, his fingers were long and tainted and his body was indescribable.

Everyday when he took your classes and assessment you would spend half of it staring at him, every girl did, who wouldn't but you knew there was no chance to stand out and catch his attention.

You were not that good in his subjects either, it was the day your mum came to see your result and found out you almost failed such an easy subject.

It was just literature , what was so distracting? What was so hard? Little did she know it was your professor himself.

One day she called you and informed you that she personally called your professor to give your private extra lessons. Your heart dropped.

---------------------------------------------------

There you were all dressed up waiting at his office with perfume wrapping your body,.he said he would be free at his office around 8:00pm.

The office was sound proof unlike other offices and it smelled like it was newly installed, the windows were dark tainted and covered with blinds, his floor was a grey funny carpet over the wooden tiled floor, his desk was neat. Almost like he was waiting fir you to arrive.

The door creeked open and your professor came inside, he was wearing his black shirt tucked in his waist hight pants, it wrapped around his body, especially at the waist making it look so small

" Y/n right? From my class, so what's bothering you during my lessons? I thought I clearly explained everything in detail, everyone seems to get a pass."

You were clearly embarrassed, you couldn't tell him what was really the problem, never!

" you don't know? Ok then, why don't you write me a simple minimum 100 word paragraph on yourself under 25 minutes? It's not that hard."

You were sure you could do that but when he sat I front of you, you got distracted again, you were thinking of glancing at him and wasted half of your time, in the end you wrote a paragraph about yourself with just around 45 words with rigged sentences.

" seems like you're really getting distracted, you're English seems to be perfect, how can you fail this? I guess I have to step up my game, stand up and write me another essay about your favorite subject, minimum 100 words again but under 35 minutes."

.

Now you were bending over with a pen and and a piece of paper, brainstorming about your favorite subject when maybe, just maybe you thought you caught him staring at your cleavage on the tight black dress you wore specially for today.

" we're you planning to go out?"

" I was until I remembered mom set me up for this and I had to run here."

You just couldn't get the thought of him fucking you dumb over his desk out of your head. You ended up writing 56 words under 35 minutes.

" not much improvement, I need to think of something that'll finally steer you right, I think I'm the problem, why don't I stand behind you and observe you from there while you write me another 100 word paragraph on how you're feeling about being here. This time you can waste however long you want but you must complete it. "

" H-how I'm feeling?"

He nodded as he stood up to go behind you. Whatever he just said was too oddly specific, it kind of scared you now but. Atleast he wasn't gonna be in front of you.

.

While you were writing away, he stared at your arched back, how you were bending over standing over his desk to write the paragraph, the shortness of the dress almost flashed him with your underwear, he was trying hard to get a peak. His intentions weren't any different.

A few moments later you could feel warmth on your thighs, he was extremely close to you, he was even leaning on you, pushing your hair over your shoulder to see what progress you were making.

Then you felt his hand gently lifting the hem of your dress, it didn't take you too long to understand what he was trying to do. He leaned in more his cheek was right next to yours, the contact of his skin on yours send shivers down your spine.

Yet still you didn't budge, acting like you were too focused to notice what he was doing but you were soaking wet down there, his hand traveled up your thigh to your ass, gently squeezing it before pulling your panty down.

You looked at him concerned, " get back to writing, write about what you're going to feel now. I know you want it badly." he whispered against your ear

His fingers gathered your slick and he stuck two digits up your cunt and you clenched around them. You gasped, your hand was shaking with the pen on on your hand as you struggled to write or think about anything other than him.

He pumped his fingers in and out slowly, making sure to find your good spots and having you tremble under his touch.

" will you let me fuck you dumb in this little dress?" his breath brushed against your cheeks as your turned red. You only nodded desparately.

You could hear the sound of his belt falling into the floor, along with his boxers and jeans, you peeped back to look at it.

Gosh it was gorgeous, it was huge and the tip was flush pink leaking precum.

He asked you to spit in his hand and used it as lubricant, he placed himself between your legs, slowly entering.

" you won't get to cum until you properly end that paragraph I told you to write. And if it's great, maybe I'll even fuck my cum in you." he made a deal with you as you frantically write away until he started to penetrate.

He was shaking you, ruining the balance of your pen and paper, you couldn't think anymore other than the thought of how good it felt having him inside.

" you thought It was gonna be easy? Pfft. Let's see if you can even get past 20 words now."

Soft and low grunts escaped past his lips, and you couldn't help but clech every thrust because he hits that spot too well. This was so hard for you to even focus, you were moments away from cumming.

" w-what if I cum without a warning? I've never done this. "

" you'll have to because you don't wanna face the consequences."

Shit he sounded like he meant every word he said, he does give out the cruealest punishments how we're you gonna pass.

" then Pl-please go slow."

" Do you think slowing down will help you? It's just gonna be more worse."

You only realized what he said when he slowed down the agonizing pace was burning your walls, it was even harder for you to focus and you can't even ask for more.

You wrote about what just happened right now you what you plan to do to end this session, heck you even wrote about why you get so distracted and how much you fantasized having him inside. It was like a dream come true for you.

After finishing he checks it out, it felt like the best platonic confession he's ever read, he loved it.

" Princess, you just wrote the best paragraph I've ever read, do you know what that means?"

" y-you get to fuck your cum in me and let me cum too."

He made you sit in his desk spreading your legs your moping cunt begging to be filled up again, since he was pretty tall and the desk was short the edge was around his mid thighs, it wasn't too hard for him to push through

" did I tell you how good you feel? I've been waiting for ir this day for months, got my sound proof walls prepared for this."

That statement shocked you, it was quiet weird as well.

' F-for me? Not anyone else?"you asked as he pushed himself back in with ease,

" Who else? Don't you see the way I always try to sum up your grades, you're my favorite student even if you almost failed, I gave you so many passes, don't you see how much I want you? How much I do for you without you asking for it."

Slowly he thrusted again, you never thought he had feelings for you, you thought he was just too horny at this time of the night and did this just to please his needs. It was very disturbing but at this point you were flustered, your fucked out face turning even redder if possible, staring at his sweat covered face.

" Why don't you take this off so I can see those pretty little tits of yours?" you still had the dress on, he lifted the dress off of you and threw it on the floor.

He then unclipped your bra, latching his lips around your hard nipple while kneading the other, the sensitivity made you whimper as he sucked on them.

" Maybe I'll fuck a baby into you and you'll lactate when I try these out again." he had no mercy on you, shamelessly melting your brain with words you never thought he would ever say, even in your deepest fantasies.

As he kept thrusting his lips marked your chest and neck, if anyone saw you, they would definitely call you a big slut.

" gosh you feel much better than I thought," he groaned against your skin. At this point you couldn't help but moan put loud, thank god he installed those sound proof walls or else the entire department could hear the sinful sound leaving your mouth as he fucked you.

" see, you can actually write a paragraph, it took you only 25 minutes to end that with 110 words. Maybe I should do this more often."

You had to close that paragraph. Or else you wouldnt last any longer. There you were cumming so hard on your professor's dick, you've never came this hard, not even those young ripped jocks in your class could coax this orgasm out of you. You almost knocked yourself out.

And seconds later he came crashing so hard, it was leaking out of your hole while he was still inside, there was no way you didn't get pregnant after that.

" see this what good girls get, if you keep being this good I'll give you whatever you want."

.

You washed up in his office bathroom when you notice one of your inner garment was missing, mainly your underwear, you leave the bathroom to find it peeking out of his pant's pocket, you smiled to yourself

He was as freaky just as how much handsome he was.

You left his office without saying anything about the underwear, he could keep it as a souvenir to remember what he did tonight.

12:56 am

[thedevilinmybrain]

Hi love

Prompt: Love at first sight, like "the world stop when I first saw you" kind of.

Thanks xx

this is silly and a little dirty and flirty and happy christmas!

"Oh for heaven's sake, Louis. It's your turn. Just go do it!" Liam shoves a hand into Louis' jacket, shoves him towards where the line for the Christmas stall has already gained two more people. "Oi, alright alright. Fuck off then." Straightening his coat, Louis digs his hands into his pockets and waits. That's all he can do as the line slowly crawls forward. It's his own damn fault - promised to buy the lads a round of mulled wine since he lost the bet over at the ice skating rink. How was he supposed to know that fucking Zayn of all people knew how to skate because of ice hockey? Stepping up behind a couple that clearly has no idea what they want, Louis glances around. The Christmas market is all lit up with strands of multicolored fairy lights, heavy with boughs of fir and pine. It smells like a Chris Kringle dream, like cinnamon and sugar dust and cranberries. He half expects to see magic reindeer walking around, maybe an elf in the eaves of one of the canvas tents. What he doesn't expect at all is to finally be first line and come face to face with a literal Christmas angel. Louis is an expert on the subject. He's a Christmas baby after all. "Hi there. What would you like?" Green eyes, pink cheeks, a crooked grin. It's all Louis can see. Peering up at him from behind the rough wooden countertop, a crown of gold tinsel nestled in his curls. "You." It falls out of Louis' mouth, just an honest answer, and Louis can't feel bad about being this bold when the flush on the man's cheeks darkens. "I'm um," A ringed hand flutters around the top of his red apron, the man ducking his head a little. And god does flustered look downright devastatingly good on him. "I'm not on the menu." "Hi, Not on the menu. I'm Louis." Whatever rulebook Louis has prescribed to for dating has gone up in flames, and he's almost cringe at the worst line in the world if it weren't for the way the guy gives out a startled and loud laugh. "Oh! You've got jokes then, hm?" Brushing his fingers to his lips, the angel lets out another giggle before holding his hand out. "Well, Louis, it's nice to meet you." "Come now, love. You're really not going to tell me your name?" Louis asks, reaches to slip his fingers into the other man's, giving him a firm but slow shake. He knows he's holding up the line, knows he's laying it on thick, but the guy just is too close to a holiday miracle to pass up. "I'll tell you," Leaning down, the guy meet Louis' eye, all seaglass green with a hint of mischief. "But only after you take me out." "When you get off?" Louis asks, raises a slow eyebrow. "That won't happen till at least the third date." The guy pulls his hand back, turning to fill up a cup from the large stock pot on the water, the mulled wine a deep red. "But you can meet me here at seven."