#i fucking love much you draw them bickering

[cacaocheri]

Moon upgraded from getting dragged to getting coat-hanged

YESSSSS SUN GOT HIS REVENGE!!!!!

[todayisafridaynight]

Have you ever drawn Ichi and Nanba together like you’ve drawn Yamcha and Tien.

maybe once- ARGUABLY twice but both times were for commissions, so technically not really

[piningpercussionist]

(ooc)

I want you all to know that if I had the energy for it. There are so many posts stored in my drafts I long to queue... but neglected to preemptively tag, despite knowing I am Like This....

Anyway, there is a slight chance the queue might run out tomorrow unless I can get more responses in there-- I am,, tired,,

[wifeyoozi]

Lee jihoon - Popsicles for dessert

w.c : 1.5 k ┊ synopsis : jihoon's tired of all the pink underwear teasing and shows you he doesn't wear one┊ content warning : smut , bestfriends to lovers kinda , blowjobs , big dick jihoon , really big dick jihoon

a/n : aka the prompt ask y'all had been waiting for is finally here. Crack and smut.

 It's all because Soonyoung.

He started it.

The whole pink underwear drama. Jihoon, for the fact, does NOT wear pink underwear. Maybe he wore them once for the sake of one of his ex’s kinks. But he doesn't own pink underwear. There's black and there's dark grey and there's dark blue. A red one for when he's feeling extra freaky. Nothing pink.

And yet all of this fuss and teasing. And it was still bearable when it was just the boys teasing him.

But then you caught on that inner joke. Well, more specifically, soonyoung told you. On purpose. Knowing how big of a crush Jihoon had on you, his best friend. And you found that funny too. And then you started teasing him about it. And he's so embarrassed. 

And today it happened again. You two were just discussing your lives lately, and you told Jihoon about all the new make up you bought recently and how much you love that pink lipstick you got from your favourite brand. A sudden shit-eating grin spread across your face and Jihoon instantly knew where this was headed to. 

“You know, Jihoon, what else is pink”

Jihoon groaned, “oh my god, not you too! Not again!"

You giggled at his reaction, “your underwear Jihoon! You wear pink underwear, don't you? Little pink panties?”

Jihoon groaned, burying his face in the throw pillow on the couch. As you continued teasing him, he snapped. 

“God, y/n, I don't wear pink underwear,” he whined loudly, suddenly standing up, “should I show you or something?”

Your eyebrows quirked. “Why not, show me the proof.” There was a glint of mischief in your eyes. Jihoon should have known this was a bad idea. But he was tired of all the teasing already. He hastily untied the knots of his grey sweatpants and pulled them down to his thighs, revealing his slick black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. 

Your eyes widened. And the colour of his underwear wasn't the reason. It was the big bulge at his crotch which you couldn't take your eyes off. Your mouth watered at the sight. “God, Jihoon,” you were speechless. 

Suddenly shy again, Jihoon attempts to pull his pants back up, but you stop him, your hand on top of his as you move closer. He definitely has a really big dick hidden in there for the bulge to be that big.. And he wasn't even hard. Well, yet.

Your free hand moves and cups his crotch. Jihoon flinches but doesn't push you away. Instead, a soft moan leaves his throat before he could think. “Y/n what are you-”

“What fucking monster kind of dick you have in store here, Hoonie,” you can feel his dick come alive under your hand, the bulge growing as if it wasn't massive already. You palm him through his boxers. His hands fly to hold your wrist, stopping you. He really will just cum already if you keep doing that. You look up at him with a pout. 

“I want it,” you demanded, as if you were a little girl asking for candy or ice cream. Not able to hold himself back, his hand briefly looses over yours and you take the opportunity to instantly pull down his boxers, freeing his cock as it springs up, hard under your attention. 

“Oh my god, hoonie, it's so pretty,” you say, taking Jihoon's cock in your hand, examining it as though it was your first time seeing one. It was a pretty thing indeed, thick and long and only slightly darker than his fair face. It was a pretty shade of pink at the top and the purple veins prodded throughout the length. Its shape was just perfect, not too wonky or long and drippy or ugly. It was the kind of dick every girl sees in her dreams and every artist draws for their characters.

Jihoon, on the other hand, was trembling. Two minutes ago, you two were bickering. Now you had his dick in your hand. A shudder passed through his spine and he let out a whine as your tongue suddenly lapped over his head. “Y/n, you-”

“Shh, baby, sit down on the couch. I cannot stop myself from tasting this cock.” It was like you were hypnotised by his cock and he by you. He sat on the couch, his underwear and sweatpants pooled at his ankles. He opened his legs wide, giving you space to kneel in between as you take hold of his cock again. 

You lick over the length again, dragging your tongue along the veins, making Jihoon moan and groan and grab a fist of your hair. You loved when he pulled, the sting making your panties damp. You take the tip in your mouth whole sucking on it slowly. 

You try to take his dick deeper in your mouth, holding your breath as you do, before his cockhead touches the back of your throat, and it's just half way there. You forced your gag reflex to soften as you took him as deep as you can, wrapping your hand around the rest of it. You suck on it, hollowing your cheeks, feeling encouraged by all of the filthiest noises you head jihoon make. 

His hands grab your head, not pushing or pulling, but just holding it as a support as you commit yourself to giving the best blowjob you might have ever given. Your pussy feels so wet at the thought of taking this monstrosity in it. You can't take him today. You're gonna need training for it. But jihoon will help you stretch out for him. And then he'll fuck you till you can't think about anything other than his dick and how well it's fucking you. Your clit throbs. God, you're so cockdrunk over him.

Your other hands come to play with jihoon's balls, who seem big and heavy from his cum. He's close already, you can tell. So you suck on it till he's cumming down your throat with a whiny shudder, his hips tutting up in your mouth reflexively. You drink in all of his cum, the bitter-sweet malty taste making you only want more. 

Jihoon's panting. He just recieved what would be the best blowjob of his life. God, you should be put in a porn film with skill like that. His head falls back, catching a breath, as you climb on his lap, giggling as you lean in to kiss him. It's messy and wet and filthy, but he loves it. He could still taste himself on you. He wraps his arms around your waist.

It's all because of Soonyoung. 

He started the pink underwear rumours, spread it to you, had you tease him and it led to this. He's thankful to his best friend for it, but he wouldn't say it. He might write a nice song for him though as a thank you.

[deadsnakey]

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

ˋ°•*⁀➷fluff ೀ Headcanons. . .ᐟ 0.7k wordsᥫ᭡┈─★

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ it probably started with Theo and Matty being dared to kiss each other in truth or dare, sparked their bisexual awakening and then make out in a broom closet while drunk asf at a party a month later.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ from then on out, they started kissing just for fun resulting in feelings developing, then you came into the picture and y'all were really good friends and then confessed feelings to each other and now y'all are dating!!!

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ yeah y'all are like THE trio, being friends and while dating.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ They both wealthy asf, meaning theyre always getting you anything you want.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ Also meaning they spoil each other a lot too, sometimes ending up in them bickering lol.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ You definitely have scary guard dogs privileges.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ Very gentle and sweet, to you and each other only though.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ No one dares to fuck with you, but if they think they can get away with it when they arent with you, they are completely wrong. Theyll always find out.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ They both are really smart, so if you ever need help with anything especially school wise theyll gladly help you. Youre passing with all As almost because of these two.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ Lovesss late night baking. Like 1 or 2 am baking with you, its always so fun and filled with lots of laughter tbh and when they cant sleep and youre also up its a great activity to get tired out.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ If you have any hobbies like, painting, drawing, a sport, games, fashion, literally anything, theyll always encourage you and support it. Definitely loves your art if you do anything with creativity.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ Its obvious i think that theyd show you off but are also possessive and overprotective of you, especially at parties or in front of groups they know might try sum with you.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ Mattheo is a whore for scalp scratches, theodore is a whore for kisses.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ They both slutty whores for your attention.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ i think mattheo had to get used to being gentle or at least less aggressive since he didn't grow up with gentle or nurturing treatment. you and Theo had to kindly talk to him and let him know when he's hurting you because its never intentional; he doesn't know his own strength.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ but once he does start getting used to being more gentle he doesn't have to think anymore to be less aggressive; it comes more naturally now.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ i think Theo and mattheo love to team up on you just randomly.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ teasing you; especially in public. they even gang up on you to tickle you and bonus points when you're sleepy. they think you're so cute when you're sleepy.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ in love with your laugh, giggles, smile, voice, allat.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ dates are always fun for everyone, planned out and everything. if by chance at some point someone isn't haven't too much fun or sum that will immediately be rearranged.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ if you're more introverted, have anxiety, etc. they are more then understanding especially Theo, if your social battery is getting far too low just say the word and they will happily leave and go somewhere where you're more comfortable.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ these two are very playful, Mattheo is more shameless about it and wanna see you flustered, Theodore just likes seeing you get shy lol.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ do not even try to insult yourself in front of them, they will scold you and dog cuddle pile on you for hoursss, girlie good luck escaping.

᧔ ⑅ ᧓ if you cook, they eat yo shit like fiends who don't get fed at home. cookies? ten minutes record and shoved down their throats. chocolate chip brownies? devoured, shit doesn't stand a chance. they definitely greedy and refuse to share with anyone but you. they're constantly asking if you can bake them something and especially on a bad day.

[aurae-rori]

okay so hear me out i have a genius idea

yanqing in sumeru. (yes, the obvious option would be to put him in liyue, but i honestly don't feel like writing that right now).

yanqing and cyno interactions.

YANQING AND WANDERER INTERACTIONS.

now that i've caught your attention-

yanqing falls through a wormhole or something. ends up stranded in sumeru. like, right in sumeru city. he wakes up in an alleyway and is like genuinely, what the mcflipping fuck. so he wanders through sumeru, talks to a few people who have NEVER heard of the xianzhou luofu, and eventually, someone reports him to the corps of 30 because there is an unsupervised foreign child who keeps on talking about a xianzhou luofu, what the FUCK is a xianzhou luofu.

they take him in to the matra, he answers a couple of questions, EVERYONE involved is confused as shit, so they pull out cyno. yanqing talks to him and hes like. you remind me of my dad. hahaha. and cyno is like. okay this kid is telling the truth. so we're gonna have to keep him around until we figure out a way to send him back to the luofu.

(this gets really long)

he does not want to go into a fucking rainforest, so he ends up rooming with kaveh & alhaitham after spending a few nights with nahida and bonding with her (i believe they r friends,,,) and she reccomends that he go to stay with them. yanqing is very polite and doesn't make his prsence known a lot because he is genuinely kind of afraid of the two of them even tho they are really nice to him, and one day he goes out and he just wanders through the streets of sumeru and bumps into the wanderer. he introduces himself as 'hat guy' and a friend of nahida's, so yanqing is like, oh, cool. wait, what? your name is HAT GUY?

cue bullying wanderer. and wanderer is like, this kid doesn't know who he's fucking talking to wtf and maybe they end up sparring or something. i think they would bond over fighting and yanqing would pick up a few tips and tricks from wanderer, who probably is secretly like, 'this kid has talent what the fuck where did this child even come from'. eventually after they spar for a bit yanqing ends up telling him more about the xianzhou and from that interaction with wanderer, he starts to come out of his shell more. he eats dinner with kaveh and alhaitham, and gets used to their bickering. he goes to see cyno again and meets tighnari and collei, even faruzan who probably takes a liking to him. people take him to nilou's shows. when candace and dehya visit from the desert he gets to meet them too.

and slowly, over time, they start to get to know him more. he tells them stories of the high cloud quintet, from their rise to their fall. he tells them about the borisin, and hoolay, and feixiao. he tells them about jiaoqiu and his bravery, sushang and her determination, huohuo and tail. he tells them about yunli's bravery and brashness, about jing yuan's patience and slyness, of moze's shennanigans and loyalty.

he tells them broken bits and pieces of stories and then, he tells them about the xianzhou history. he tells them about mara. he tells them about how he's had to cut down soldiers so much older than him that he wouldn't even know when they were born.

he tells them about the disciples of abundance, in little, clipped stories.

and they listen.

he draws his friends, too. he's not too great at it, but he draws them, and tells cyno that he reminds him so much of his dad. he plays tcg with them, joins them for game night. drags wanderer into social interactions, explores sumeru, watches the sun set from the trees.

he makes them little mementos of himself. he commissions someone to make a little bird charm out of materials he gathers up. and then he gives them to his friends, and when jing yuan inevitably comes to see him home (he wants to go back, he loves it here but he loves his home more) they will be able to remember him.

yanqing learns that defeat is okay. he learns that he can be loved. and that people are really complex, and that love can be shown in different ways. yanqing learns that he can love, too. :)

wow this turned way longer than i thought it would so uh. hope u enjoy my nonsensical ramblings!

[andypantsx3]

I love the TodoReaderBaku polycule idea!! I imagine them pushing the others buttons in the morning as they get ready for work and then you come home late that evening to them snoozing and cuddled up together in their sleep on the couch while they wait for you. They(bakugou) already made dinner but they didn’t want to eat without you 🥹💕

This is soooo cute omg you are giving me big domestic tdbkreader feelies. 🥺 I hope it's okay that I wrote you a lil something inspired by this.

contents: shouto x reader x bakugou, established relationship, domestic fluff, gender neutral reader, sfw, 1k

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

It's late, the sun already streaming in through your windows, pooling in streaks of pale gold across your floor. From where you're wrapped up in the blankets you can just make out a pair of Shouto's discarded pants laying across the floor, Katsuki's folded with military precision atop the hamper. You stretch, joints popping, until the sound of voices draws your attention again.

"The fuck is that supposed to be, huh?" comes Katsuki's growl from beyond the door.

Shouto's low tone answers him, his voice soft and almost indecipherable. You can tell the two of them haven't been up for much longer than you by the rasp in Katsuki's voice, the deep hum of Shouto's. "They are Julie Anne."

There is an incredulous pause, and you can almost see the expression on Katsuki's face. Barely awake, you just manage to stifle your own laugh into the blanket when Shouto's meaning comes to you, and Katsuki's scandalized inhale makes you smile harder.

"It's julienne, dumbfuck. Who the hell is Julie Anne?" he demands.

"They are julienne, then," Shouto says placidly, which you know grinds Katsuki's gears even more than defensiveness.

"This is half a fucking carrot, I said cut 'em tiny!" Katsuki hisses.

Shouto says something in reply you can't quite make out, and Katsuki all but growls—except then there's the softest, slick sound of a kiss, and you know Shouto has pulled out his ultimate move to quiet your boyfriend down.

"Think you can just do whatever because you're cute," Katsuki mutters after a moment, but his tone gives him away. It's easily a thousand degrees warmer than it was moments before, and you can tell by the sound of his voice that the tips of his ears are scarlet.

A helplessly fond smile pulls at your mouth as you stretch again, and you figure you should get out to the kitchen now that the waters have calmed.

The process of unrolling yourself from the blankets takes a minute, and then you spend another few hunting around for the shirt and pants Shouto flung off of you somewhere last night, and a few more brushing your teeth in the bathroom.

Something is hissing on the stove by the time you make it out to the kitchen, and the room smells mouthwatering.

Shouto has apparently been exiled to the far side of the island, and your boyfriend turns to you, his hair a little flatted on the left side, red strands tangling up with the white. His long fingers clutch a glass of orange juice, and he looks so adorably morning-ruffled and sweet you almost fall over your feet in your haste to kiss him.

"Good morning, love," he says, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He's warm and tastes like fresh oranges, and his bare chest is almost too beautifully sculpted in the morning sun. You let him pull you into his lap, and only get a little flustered with the way his arm muscle cords as he does so.

He hooks his arms around you, pressing his mouth into your shoulder, and you shiver with the delicious warmth of him along your back.

"Thought you mighta died in there," Katsuki says, scarlet eyes finding yours over the counter. "'S late for you."

He's bare chested too, miles of golden skin on display in his low-slung grey sweatpants and your mouth goes a little dry just looking at him.

"Luckily someone set the bickering boyfriend alarm," you say, eyes barely finding their way back up to his face.

Katsuki grins, a wicked thing, and leans over the counter to seize your mouth, a long-fingered hand cupping your chin. He tastes like coffee, an indulgence he only allows himself on weekends, and he slides you a matching mug when he finally lets your mouth free, having to return to the rolled omelette he's making.

"I might be in love with you," you say gratefully, taking a sip, reveling in how good it is. Katsuki only does freshly ground—a million miles better than the instant powder or coffee pods you brew yourself on your way out to work. You're definitely in love.

"Then I might be inclined to let you have some of this," Katsuki says. The motion of his arm as he flaps the dishtowel over his shoulder is notably smug.

You settle back into Shouto, sipping your drinks together quietly as you watch a traditional Japanese breakfast come together under Katsuki's talented hands. He plates up rice, his rolled omelette, and then a sauteed kale stem and carrot salad off the stove—so that's what the julienne talk was about. Then grilled fish is laid over the top of the rice, and Katsuki lays out another side of soup and several tiny plates of carved fruits.

Shouto helps you off of his lap gently when it's finished, and Katsuki crowds you into your own chair between the two of them, charging another kiss for his efforts. You pay up eagerly, the meal and the man in front of you equally delicious.

"Eat it all," Katsuki demands of Shouto over your shoulder as he takes his own seat, pointing his chopsticks like a weapon at him. "You overused your quirk in Bunkyo yesterday, y'need to make up the energy deficit."

Shouto hums, used to Katsuki's bossiness.

You have to suppress an appreciative groan when the first bite of breakfast hits your mouth. The fish is fresh and sweet and the rice is warm and fluffy. As with anything Katsuki makes, it's cookbook perfect.

"It's sooo good," you say, your usual—though heartfelt—platitude. "Really good. Thank you both."

"It is made with love," Shouto specifies, his tone low and earnest in that disarming way he has. In the corner of your vision, Katsuki rolls his eyes, but pointedly does not deny it.

You take another bite, hiding your smile in a mouthful of sauteed kale stem and badly-julienned carrot.

[little-diable]

I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)

I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)

Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts. 

The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him. 

“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips. 

Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect. 

“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.” 

“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together. 

“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her. 

……

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions. 

His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.

“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.

“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.

“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing. 

Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy. 

“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.” 

Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. 

“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.

He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet. 

No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room. 

……

The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.

“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her. 

“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud. 

“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months. 

“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.

“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap. 

“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his. 

“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.

“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.

“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her. 

(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time. 

“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.

Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart. 

“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.

The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.

And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.

[missmonsters2]

—Lips Over Your Nightmares

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.

Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.

Count: 2.6k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighttime could be hellish.

It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much. 

You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be. 

But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.

It was a blessing and a curse. 

To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for. 

But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto. 

Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.

But Wednesday Addams saw you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.

"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."

"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."

Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."

"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied. 

"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.

Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"

Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."

"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."

There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems. 

But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing. 

Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.

"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!" 

"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.

Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.

"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."

"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.

"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.

"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."

"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.

Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."

Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.

Wednesday knocked in three successions. 

There was no answer. 

If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.

No, she knew you far too well. 

This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.

Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door. 

The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more. 

There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly. 

"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"

"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly. 

It was new.

You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm. 

"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."

"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.

"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face. 

Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes. 

Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you. 

It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.

"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were. 

And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time. 

You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling. 

Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.

You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want. 

"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily. 

Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would. 

Just as you were her exception, she was yours. 

You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.

"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.

She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.

The resounding click of it made you swallow.

"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.

"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."

Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."

"How did you know—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.

"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything—"

Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."

Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more. 

Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest. 

The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.

"I'm having nightmares about you."

The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic. 

But you were not her. 

Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.

"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."

Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on. 

"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."

"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."

Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought. 

But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come. 

Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path. 

"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions. 

"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.

Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort. 

You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.

Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross. 

Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece. 

Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck. 

Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.

It was deliriously pleasant.

"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.

It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity. 

Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.

Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft. 

Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours. 

How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?

Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."

You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.

Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream? 

Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers. 

It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too. 

"Your nightmares are inane."

You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip. 

"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips. 

"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."

The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.

"But—"

"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."

But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat. 

Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.

Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.

[duskier]

Werewolf AU / fat hairy werewolf gf x poly!141 idea rambling in honor of the art by @littlebit-of-art ♡

|| okokok werewolf lore is always varied but I love the idea of like. shift at will werewolves, but they have forced shifts during the full moon where they get all primal and stuff... thinking about the 141 in the woods, in hiding from bad guys, getting cabin fever and impatient as hell. Pissed that Laswell has benched them (though understanding she has legitimate reasons why)

Soap finds you first, middle of the night. Well, you find him, actually. He was just sneaking out for a cigarette, went alone because he didn't want to share- his pack was running low. You're a tall creature when shifted, much too large to be excusably identified as a wolf. It's the full moon, so the 'you' isn't all there- moreso your hindbrain, your dumb dog of a wolf self. Of course *she* makes a beeline towards Soap after smelling him in the air, first human you'd seen in years- he thinks he's about to get mauled to death but is pleasantly surprised when he sees your tail wagging and you're nudging him to come play with you.

The rest of the squad looks at Soap like he's nuts when he comes by with you in tow, the "can we keep it?" look on his face. Ghost has half a mind to shoot you, no matter how damned cute you looked flopping over on your back, your primal way of telling the group you were friendly.

Price knows you're something strange, not a normal wolf. After some bickering between Soap and Price ("He looks cold :("..."it's a wild fucking animal, Sergeant") you're allowed to curl up on the couch in the den of the cabin, just in front of the fire. The wood of the furniture squeaks under your weight, reassuring Price you wouldn't be sneaking anywhere at night without him noticing.

...But come morning time, when you are you again- human, that is- Price is left speechless. Who was this beautiful, stark naked woman, and why was she on the couch? Where'd the wolf thing go? Poor man, fighting his urges to look you up and down over and over until he'd memorized every silky furry curve, the soft pout of your lips...

After an embarrassing wake up call, a lot of screaming and scrambling, you were sat in an oversized blanket wrapped around you and explaining who and what exactly you were to the 141. You appreciated the warm place to sleep in, so you offer them a deal- let you move in, you'll hunt for them in your wolf form. Easy enough.

What you never could have expected was how much you would become attached to the team. It starts off small, them getting used to your large wolf form- Gaz gives you a scratch behind your ear once in a while. Then it becomes so common for you to rest on him that when he sees you, he wordlessly clears his lap, a perfect resting spot for your head. Soap asks to draw you once, then it becomes a natural thing and he's a sudden canine anatomy expert in weeks, half his sketchbook filled with you- human and otherwise. Price checks in on you, worries over you and waits up every night that you're out late hunting for them. Reminds you not to push yourself, you've stocked them plenty for winter, as he wipes your bloody maw clean with a towel before bed. Ghost gets annoyed at your limp from stickers caught in your paws, but then it becomes a daily ritual for him to groom you all over, pulling out annoyances caught in your fur or paws.

...That's just when you're in your wolf form. When you're in your human form, the men are all just as sweet, if not sweeter. Price finds an old record player, teaches you to dance to the music. Revels in the feeling of pulling your soft body close, hands lovingly caressing every inch of your body as you sway in time, your pretty head resting on his chest. He becomes quickly besotted by the feeling of your arms under his hands, the silky hair covering inch of your skin making him just mad with affection and want. Soap makes even more portraits- drawings with harsh and soft lighting, never wanting you to ever hide your body in the ways you'd been taught to previously. Can't stop raining down compliments on you the entire time, as if every five minutes he's blown away once more at your beauty. Doesn't miss a single tuft of hair, a single bit of your body. Gaz who finds every way he can make you laugh because once he's heard it, once he's seen the way your laugh moves through your whole body and the way your smile lightens the room, he's like a lovesick puppy. (It becomes bad news for Soap, because nothing made you laugh quite like Gaz pranking Soap, each prank becoming more and more childish.) Ghost takes the meager rations they have- thankfully bolstered by your hunting- and makes the best warm meals you'd ever had. Makes you taste test every meal- never plated until it has your approval. Watches you with his golden brown eyes, searching for your praise.

One night, Laswell shipped them their new rations and included a bottle of bourbon, a late birthday gift for Price. 'Sorry you're still there,' a note on the bottle apologized. The team couldn't care less about being there, so focused in on you. You take turns having small shots of the liquor and end up watching the men as they excitedly share story after story with you, each wilder than the last. Price puts his big warm hand on your leg, unable to keep himself from squeezing gently. Gaz has his arm on the backrest behind you, fingers toying with your hair. Soap sits at your feet, his head on your knee, you feel his stubble against your skin whenever he speaks. It's Ghost who breaks rank first, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and telling you you're the prettiest girl he'd ever met. You blush, and he says he'd like to kiss that blush right off of you. It's slurred, it's silly, but it works, and you let him kiss you, his mask rolled up to his nose. Soap protests, then, of course, how dare he not get a kiss. You jokingly ask Gaz if he'd like one too, of course he agrees and you oblige them both, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You turn to Price, who was watching intently, eyes glittering in the firelight. "Come here, love," is all he has to say before you're crawling onto his lap and kissing him silly, the peanut buttery smell of his cigars filling your senses.

From there it's as natural as breathing to wake up in a cuddle pile, to kiss them all goodbye before going out on a hunt. For each of them to take you to bed, alone or all together or somewhere in between. They treat you like a precious thing, but never like glass- they know all too well how strong you are.

They find out even more of your capabilities when they are attacked.

Full moon, you're out hunting. Happily secure in letting your wolf side take the reins, looking for the best deer to take home for your boys when you hear a crack like a whip in the distance. You hear Soap screaming just as everything goes red for you. The primal side still in control, all it can think is that your pack was in danger. You ran faster than you ever thought possible, bulky wolf body breaking through old trees, unstoppable in your path to your mates. The men you kill in your way aren't anywhere near prepared for you, slaughtered like nothing. From your boys' perspective, you were a terrifying sight to see. Snarling and monstrous, standing on your back haunches taller than a building, soaked in blood and gore. It isn't until all enemies were silenced that you're capable of thinking anywhere clearly enough to look for your boys, make sure they were okay.

Thankfully, no one was hurt. Ignoring the mess covering you, you were sniffing and nuzzling each of them ignoring their protests in disgust, distressed whines leaving you. They weren't able to calm you that night, having to allow you to stalk a perimeter around the house all night long, daring more enemies to come. It wasn't until the next day that they found you, human form collapsed in the dirt from exhaustion. They take the time to bathe you, gently and with reverence, grateful for both your life and their own. Softening your skin with lotions and oils after, wrapping you in their nicest blankets and surrounding you in a giant cuddle pile so that when you awoke, you'd feel safe.

And you do. You can't imagine life without your boys.

[reminiscingtonight]

Gay 4 Me

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: A little spiciness, talks about solo-action if you get my drift. Based on the G Flip and Lauren Sanderson song

[WOSO Masterlist]

You find out by accident. 

Katie, shit-stirrer she is, is in the midst of ribbing the fuck out of Alessia. The striker had missed one too many goals, one too many passes, one too many everythings at practice and the Irish woman’s taking too much joy in rubbing it in her face. 

“Mate, you’re too stressed. Gotta find yourself a lovely lad or someone to work out the tension.”

“There’s no tension, Katie!”

“Tell that to your shoulders,” the brunette snorts, fingers flicking at Alessia’s shoulder. 

The blonde bats her hands away, a frown on her face. “There’s no tension,” Alessia repeats, annoyance leaking into her voice.

“There’s no shame in getting a bit of help, Lessi.” Katie shrugs. “I might judge your taste in… partners, but that’s exactly what they’re for. To help us relax a bit.”

“I don’t need help relaxing,” Alessia huffs.

It takes a second, but Katie eventually gets what the blonde’s telling her. Katie’s mouth splits into a devilish grin. The Irish woman’s always more than happy to get too close and personal, invading everyone’s private lives. 

“What, your fantasies that good?”

Alessia rolls her eyes. “I never said they’re fantasies, McCabe.”

“Oh come on, you can’t say straight sex is that good to be reminiscing about.”

“Well I never said it was straight sex now did I?”

Katie’s mouth drops open and Alessia uses the moment of reprieve to push past the Irish woman. 

You tuned into the conversation the second the two of them made it into the locker room. You’re not sure what it is but something about Alessia is just so magnetic, always drawing you in no matter what you’re doing.

So yeah, you’re already listening to Alessia and Katie’s bickering when you find out that Alessia apparently has no qualms getting some solo action. But those words paired with blue eyes flashing towards you has you struggling to swallow.

Good lord. 

Alessia Russo touches herself to the memories of the two of you having sex. And she just admitted it to the whole locker room. 

(Not that the girls know which memories she’s getting off to, of course)

A bolt of arousal shoots right through you as you drop your head, face flaming red. 

You can still remember the night it happened. The taste of tequila sharp on your tongue after a night out with the team. You’ll argue that the alcohol lowered your inhibitions but truthfully nothing but pure lust made you trail after your blonde teammate out of the bar. Alessia felt soft under you, the noises she made sounding like music to your ears. What she lacked in experience she clearly made up for in skill, easily bringing you to the precipice multiple times just as you did her.

Just the thought of sweet little innocent Lessi, hand shoved between her legs, nothing on her mind but your hot night together as she brings herself to release makes you want to take her apart right here right now. 

The feel of a hand trailing down your back has you hurtling back into the present, breath caught in your throat in surprise. Alessia seems amused when you start hacking away. Her hand stays in place as she hands you your water bottle.

“All good?” Her face is the picture perfect example of innocence but you can see right through her.

“All good?” you mock, shoving at her lightly. Alessia laughs, discreetly running her hand down your arm, pausing to give your bicep an appreciative squeeze before taking it back.

“Of course.” Her words are paired with teeth biting her bottom lip and you have to fight the urge to sink your own teeth into the rosy skin.

“You’re killing me, Less,” you groan under your breath.

“You can’t seriously be blaming me, can you? Was quite rude how you left me with an ache if I’m being honest.”

Eyes bulging at Alessia’s confession, you find yourself choking on yet another breath.

It’s the way she says it without any embarrassment, eyes glimmering with a slight challenge, that takes you off guard.

Deep in your head you can still hear your cousin’s warning when Alessia first signed for Arsenal. Ella had backed you into a corner at a family gathering, finger digging into your sternum the second you walked through the doors.

“Alessia’s my best mate and she’s the sweetest and most innocent girl ever. You better take care of her when she joins your stupid little club or so help me I will make your life a living hell the next time we see each other.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to tell Ella that she seemed as threatening as a scraggly chihuahua. But you promised her that you would watch out for the blonde.

If only Ella could see her best friend now. Not so innocent and pure as she thought.

Though you really have no one to blame for that but yourself.

You know your cheeks are burning right now and you pray that none of your teammates are paying close attention to you and Alessia. If anyone was, they’d instantly know you guys are talking about things less than PG friendly.

Nervously chuckling, you keep your eyes trained to your bag, trying to ignore the way you can feel Alessia staring at the side of your face. “That great, huh?”

Alessia clicks her tongue, an action that has your head instantly going to the gutter, remembering exactly what she could do with the muscle. “If I’d have known how good you were in bed I would have asked Ella to hook us up eons ago.”

She’s grinning when you look up at her with an incredulous expression. “Alessia!”

“What?” she laughs, easily intertwining your fingers and leading you towards the door when she realizes you’re done packing. She leads you past a still dumbfounded Katie by the door, pausing long enough to wink at the Irish defender before you’re slipping away to the parking lot.

You have a feeling you’re going to have to endure an interrogation from the brunette in the days to follow, but right here right now, hand still caught in Alessia’s as you walk her to her car, you can’t find it in yourself to care all that much. 

Especially when Alessia suddenly hooks her fingers into your belt loops and yanks, sending you crashing into her body. You tilt your head back and laugh, arms resting around her shoulder so you don’t completely barrel her over.

“Well hello there,” she winks, as if she’s not the reason you’re currently pressing her against her own car.

“Alessia,” you return evenly, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I have a bottle of tequila and microwaveable chicken nuggets at my place. Wanna recreate some memories?”

You narrow your eyes at the striker. Her smile turns a little more teasing.

“Would you rather I straight up ask for you to put your fingers--”

“Shut up and get in the car, Less.”

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

We're so back baby! Happy weekend everyone, apologies for the delay whilst I've been away travelling. I HAVE been reading lots on my trains however, so here's another round of the fic I've been reading this fortnight whilst not actively flailing over the glorious new episodes. As always you can find previous rec lists here. Some light spoilers for new episodes.

6 October 2024

still the bone remembers, still it wants by @eddiebabygirldiaz in which 'Eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. Buck helps.' Ohhh I absolutely adored following along on this ride as a wip and now it's complete in all its glory! From his childhood responsibilities looking after his sisters, through the events of season 4 and 5, Eddie struggles with identifying what he wants in life, and Frank gives him homework to make a list of simple desires for just himself. What follows is a beautiful journey of unpacking what's in his heart, with the most gorgeously in love and enamoured Buddie. The imagery in this fic melted me, from the orange tree to dancing and more. Indulgent in the best possible way. I'm still swooning from how much they love and laugh together!

tell you my sins (sharpen your knife) by @sonofatoasterwaffle from sweetness to....Hot Priest Smut! (And yet somehow, still sweet?!) This is gloriously fun and filthy and a little tongue in cheek crack treated seriously, in which Eddie deals with his recognition of his feelings for Buck by fucking a Priest about it....and makes Fleabag eat her heart out. It's 'for anyone who dreams about reclaiming pieces of the religion that hurt them in a fun and sexy way.' Featuring incredibly funny Bobby along the way. Poor guy.

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins) by @capseycartwright on the other end of the Catholic Guilt explorations comes this 'Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.' In which Eddie seeks various methods of support in dealing with the fallout from season 7, from therapy to a veterans group to reexamining his childhood and his relationship with God. Really beautifully achey and cathartic and uplifting.

Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels ahhh I had so much fun reading this! Buck is a succubus, and the firefam a mix of fae and humans in the know about the magical world. Eddie is a new recruit, and he can't help but find Buck mesmerising as they become best friends. But Buck has been coping with his inadvertently fatal (to his partners) natural state through a series of unhealthy mechanisms and it's taking its toll. When we say Eddie would step over the body to help support Buck...this is this fic! And yet it's also so supportive and sexy and a weaves in canon in such surprisingly effective ways!

the moon don't hang quite as high by @glorious-spoon in which 'after Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.' I am so incredibly obsessed with the dialogue in this fic, it captures Buck and Eddie's voices and idiosyncrasies so well and the patter of their banter and friendly bickering, particularly how weird they are about their own and each others relationships (affectionate.)

The Write Way To Love by @spotsandsocks this was such a cute AU, in which Buck is an anxious children's fantasy author and Chris (and Eddie) are some of his biggest fans. Running an art competition for children to submit their drawings to be printed in his next book, the elusive E. Buckley makes a rare public appearance and bumps into single Dad Eddie, where sparks fly. Can Buck get over the voice in his head self sabotaging his path to happiness? This fic hit very close to home and I had so much fun reading it, and loved Christopher's voice in it so much!

a sweetheart (to hold when i'm alone) by @clusterbuck at all times on my Give That Man A Cat agenda, directly following on from the zoom call in 8x01, Eddie finds a stray in his back yard, adopts her and falls in love. Things might not be healed with Chris but perhaps they can take tentative steps forward. Eddie holding on to the mask even as it fractures, and yet not giving up, finding inner strength and outlets for all the love he holds in his heart.

cool dry place by @gayeddieagenda 'After a long summer, Buck and Eddie try to figure out if this is the right time.' Another which just nailed the voices so well, I love the patience of this fic, a really lovely look at restraint and allowing grace time to heal and feel surety, without punishing characters for needing time, and with a beautiful sense of precipice for a new relationship.

And finally two tumblr fics from @hotshotsxyz, the taste of iron a powerful alternate ending following 8x01 (what if Buck hadn't tackled Gerrard) with a brilliantly effective mirroring of the shooting arc, and a hilarious Brad Torrence POV fic from 8x02 this method acting (might pay our bills) in which we hear his inner monologue whilst riding in the back of the stolen fire engine with Bobby and Buck. Perfection!

That's it for this week, bee seeing you soon after Athena and Jem land this plane!

[fir3ylolol]

star-studded cast

pairing: MK11 Present!Johnny Cage x MK11 Young!Johnny Cage x MK1 Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: you fuck 3 johnnys. that's it, that's the whole plot

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, anal sex, anal penetration, oral sex, face-fucking, cunnilingus, eating out, foursome, 3 on 1, dirty talk, slightly degrading, praise, dom/sub, switch!reader, gentle dom!Johnny Cage, cocky dom!Johnny Cage, sub!Johnny Cage, choking, double penetration, cuming inside, multiple orgasms, biting, hickeys, afab!reader, gn reader, porn without plot, there is 0 plot in this

a/n: 100 follower special! again, out of my comfort zone a lil, but fun to write. so older johnny is john, younger johnny is johnny, and mk 1 johnny is cage. a little confusing, but you'll get it. thank you for all the love I've gotten in the past week (!!!) of writing, and i can't wait to see what's next :)))

word count: 2.00 k

Ao3

You're sat in Cage’s lap on the large bed, his wandering hands groping at your chest, his quiet moans in your ear. In front of you is Johnny, hunched over you, with a firm grip on your jaw as he kisses you, tongue deep in your mouth. Then there’s John, who you can see seated across the room in a chair, piercing eyes locked on you as he palms himself over his jeans, bottom lip between his teeth. Cage starts kissing your neck, a shiver traveling down your back, which earns a groan from Johnny, who is becoming increasingly jealous. His hands travel down, dipping below your waistband with calloused fingers. You groan at the feeling, which he relishes as quietly as he can. Which is not at all, as he says, “Wow, you react that strongly to just me touching you? Desperate much?” Cage shoots daggers at him slightly, scoffing as he says, “Just shut up and enjoy getting to be with someone this hot.” Their bickering causes John to stand up, walking closer to you, wanting to be a part of the action.

They shut up, knowing that fighting won’t get you anywhere. Cage helps shift you off his lap, setting you on the bed beside him. Johnny helps hurriedly removes your clothes as your legs dangle over the edge, when all men pausing to admire you in front of them, your dripping wet and eager for more. It only lasts so long though, as John kneels between your legs, lifting your legs over his shoulders. He gently kisses against you, teasing and making you jump. He laughs into you, vibrations drawing a long moan from your lips. Johnny climbs onto the bed to your right, helping to pull of the last of your clothes. Cage shuffles to your direct left, and starts to play with you more, twisting at your nipples and leaving hickeys down your neck and chest. Johnny rushes to pull his pants off as well, faster than you can blink, freeing his cock with a bounce, nearly smacking you in the face. Reaching a hand up, you wrap your hand around him lightly, and begin to slowly stroke him, teasingly slow. He whines at the feeling, desperate for more than just your hand.

John’s mouth latches around your clit, gentle but firm, as he dips a finger into you in curling movements. His tongue and finger moving at the same speed as his hand that’s in his pants, still pleasing himself at the sight and feeling of pleasing you. Cage has thoroughly decorated your chest, hickeys blossoming in aggressive purples and reds, and gets up to kneel. It’s his turn to take his cock out, weeping and throbbing angrily. Your other hand teases at Cage, whimpers falling from his lips as he flinches repeatedly at how sensitive he is. But you take Johnny into you mouth quickly, earning a loud groan as his hands dart down to your head, pushing you down further. You gag, but that seems to encourage him more, holding you steady as he thrusts into your mouth, spit starting to drip down your chin. You pull away, taking a deep breath and turning your head to take Cage, biting his lip at the speed you’re already going. Your hand returns to Johnny, fast and sloppy movements. Cage lightly holds your head, trying to get you to look at him. And look at him you do, teary eyes lock with his as you moan around him, causing his grip to tighten.

John is licking with ferver now, and you feel yourself getting closer to cumming. You pull off of Cage, much to his disappointment. But he’s held over as your hand returns to him. You cry out, thighs clenching around John and your hands move in jerky pulls. As you cum, you fully trap John inbetween your legs and squeeze the cocks in your hands. After a few seconds, you let go, legs going limp. John stands up, looming over you. He speaks quietly, but firmly, “Can I fuck you, baby?” You nod, head slightly dizzy, as John grabs your hips and flips you over. He helps make sure you’re stable before he pushes in, thick head stretching you out deliciously. You’ve let go of the other two by this point, but Johnny is infront of you again, wide smile and lust-filled eyes. He gently taps at your lips with his cock, and you open up, tongue lolling out. He wastes no time in grabbing your head again and fucking your face. You’ve adjusted to John more, and he speeds up, hitting deep inside you with rolling thrusts, his hand darting down to play with your even more sensitive clit. Quickly, they reach the same pace, filling you up almost entirely. Cage is still on the bed, jerking himself off to the sight of you. You catch his eyes, your own watery and full. You pull away for only a second, managing to get out, “Go faster for me, love,” before returning to Johnny. Cage speeds up, whimpering and leaning in to whisper praise in your ear.

“God, you look so pretty, so good taking dick like that. I’m at your mercy baby, just wanna help you feel good.” His words shoot through you, causing you to clench around John. He leans forward with a groan, hands digging into your hips. “Shit, you feel good ‘n’ tight around me, so fucking wet.” Johnny is more rushed, sloppy and takes only a few more seconds before he cums, a loud whine as he shoves himself down your throat and squeezes your head between his hands. He pulls away panting, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, spreading more spit around your mouth. He backs up, lightly smacking you on the face before sitting down. Cage scrambles up to face you and starts making out with you. He almost relishes the feeling of you lurching forward into him, happily humming into your mouth. John reaches his other hand out, wrapping around your throat firmly, but not too tight. He’s using the grip on you as leverage, pushing you back into him to go deeper. He only last so much longer as he squeezes you instinctively, cumming deep inside you with a shaky moan. That doesn’t stop his hand as he draws you to finish again, trembling. His grip loosens as he pulls out, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You lean into Cage, head dizzy and legs shaky, as you crash your lips into his. He gladly accepts, open-mouthed and desperate. Out of everyone here, he’s the only one that hasn’t finished. Not for much longer though, as you break away, resting your head on his shoulder. You whisper hoarsely in his ear, “You’ve done so good, love, so good for me. And since you were so good you get a prize.” He lights up at that, happy to have pleased you. “A-and what’s the prize?” he whispers back. You meet his eyes, smiling widely, “How about fucking my ass, huh?” His eyes go wide, before capturing your lips in a very messy kiss, full of mumbled, “Thank you” and “You’re so good to me.” You point to your purse by the door, and he dashes over, scrambling through until he finds a palm-sized purple bottle of lube inside. He walks back over, grabbing a pillow for you to support yourself and tucking it under you. He pours the lube on you raised ass, and you hiss at how cold it is. He kisses you back apologeticly, using his fingers to spread the lube on you. Hesitantly, he pushes a finger inside you, eliciting a groan from you and a whimper from him. Slowly, he pushes in and out, stretching you out and adding another finger, and then another. The other mens’ eyes are locked on the two of you, watching with anticipation.

Finally, he returns to kneeling, lubed-up tip pressing against you. He places one hand on your hip and one hand on your shoulder, shakily asking, “You all good? All ready?” You look over your shoulder, smiling, “Go ahead, baby, I’m ready for you.” He presses in, slowly sinking in to let you adjust. He whines out, grip on your shoulder tightening as you moan out. He bottoms out, panting at how tight you are around him. Letting you adjust, he waits for a nod, and starts to move. He quickly loses himself in it, whines and whimpers near constant. You feel yourself unraveling further below him, knees buckling slightly.

Suddenly, you feel him stop, and watch as Johnny slides below you. With a cocky smirk, he looks up at you, “Thought you could have all this fun without me?” You feel him rubbing along your wet pussy, pushing in with one smooth movement. A symphony of pleasure echos through the room, as you’re filled up with thick cock. Cage is whimpering quietly, almost completely stilled at how you feel around him. Johnny is starting to move, grip on your waist tight as he bucks into you. Cage starts moving too, alternating with Johnny. You’re almost constantly full, bouncing against both mens’ cocks. Your fucked-out face with tear tracks and half-lidded eyes, is held by John, turning it to the side to face him. He smiles at you and says, “Such a sweet thing, such a slut for us. You like being full of dick, huh? Want some more?” You nod, bouncing harshly from the thrusts pushing through you. He taps his cock against your lips, and as you open your mouth lazily, he helps guide himself in. He holds your head lightly, fucking your face at the same speed as the other two. You’re finally, and completely full, moaning out around John at the feeling. You hear Johnny speak from below you, his smirk can be hear clearly, “God, you like this so much, what a good whore you are. You feel so good around me, squeezing me for all I’m worth. It’s like you want us to use you.” Cage whines out from behind you, “H-hey, don’t speak like that. You’re so nice, so kind and lovely, for taking us like this. Mmh! Shit, I’m gonna cum, can I cum in you baby?” You nod, well as much as you can with dick in your mouth.

Cage falls apart, rapid thrusts paired with nails digging into you. Johnny is flinching under you at the feeling, his finish not far behind. Then, Cage cums, a loud, heady whine ringing through your ears. Before Cage can pull out, Johnny latches onto your chest and cums, high-pitched moan stifled. Both of them slowly pull out, whimpers at the feeling.  Johnny shuffles out from under you and Cage moves to the other side of the bed, both of them laying down in exhaustion. John pulls out, grabbing your chin as he strokes himself in front of you. “Oh, you look so good, dear. Just a little bit more and you can rest, ok?” You open your mouth, tongue falling out. He bites his lips at the sight, moving faster and faster until he thrusts into your mouth. And as you wrap your lips around him, he cums, a firm grasp on your head. As he comes down and pulls out, he helps steer you to lay down. Luckily, this bed is massive, and you all fit, and John lays down shortly afterwards. Cage curls into your side, and John into your other. Ever the consistent, Johnny whines about being left out, but you pat at your chest lightly. His eyes light up, but he tries to hide it, as he lays on top of you like a weighted blanket. John reaches for a water bottle on the nightstand, and passes it to you. As you gulp down water, you think about everything that just happened. And as you take a breath, you manage to rasp out, “So…when can we do this again?”

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them. 

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure. 

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you. 

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face. 

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you. 

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back. 

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes. 

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside. 

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip. 

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it. 

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground. 

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons. 

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen. 

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground. 

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front. 

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins. 

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse. 

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse. 

It’s there. 

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head. 

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this. 

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand. 

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound. 

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now. 

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention. 

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering. 

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt. 

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain. 

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand. 

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders. 

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin. 

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving. 

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you. 

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself. 

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths. 

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in. 

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings. 

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin. 

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you. 

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.” 

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?” 

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him. 

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake. 

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly. 

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing. 

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze. 

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head. 

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him. 

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no. 

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening. 

He was having a nightmare. 

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him. 

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms. 

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying. 

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face. 

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.” 

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out. 

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance. 

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases. 

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check. 

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him. 

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth. 

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart. 

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him. 

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.” 

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him. 

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.” 

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear. 

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually. 

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate. 

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table. 

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach. 

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him. 

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both. 

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying. 

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her. 

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen. 

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms. 

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.” 

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. 

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer. 

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you. 

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers. 

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed. 

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing. 

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers. 

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds. 

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much. 

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.” 

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.  

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling. 

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear. 

“Ready for me darlin’?” 

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you. 

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips. 

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier. 

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets. 

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass. 

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed. 

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close. 

 “I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face. 

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.  It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you. 

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

[faeruy]

Tarot Time - Agatha All Along, Episode 7 - "Death's Hand in Mine" Part 1

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS EPISODE. There's so much to talk about with regards to the Tarot used in this episode. I had to take a couple of days and watch it a couple of times to catch everything. First off, all of the kudos to the writers - their use of tarot is inspired, the way they connected it throughout the show was BRILLIANT, and I honestly didn't see the reveal that Lilia was seeing her final reading coming. I am legitimately in awe of these writers.

So lets talk about it, as this is mostly going to be me trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. As always, I'm an amateur, so I may get things wrong. I'm also splitting this up into two parts because there's A LOT. First part is Lilia's Reading, the Second part is going to be all of the other cards drawn in the episode.

First up; Lilia's True Reading. I'm starting with this one because I've already talked about a number of the cards and what they mean, although even they take on some new aspects now that they are revealed to be part of the final draw. If you haven't read my earlier posts, there's links at the bottom of this one. This is also going to be tough for me, because while I have a decent familiarity with what each card symbolizes, I've never been particularly strong when it comes to layouts, and how to take in the cards as a whole reading instead of individual pieces. But also, someone can correct me if I'm wrong, "Safe Passage" is a layout that - while visually is based on the Celtic Cross - is made up for the show.

The Traveler is The Queen of Cups - Lilia. She described this card in the show - Full of intuition, but also calm, compassionate and nurturing. Warm hearted in tune with those around her - though in this case not consciously, since earlier callouts of the cards were done involuntarily and out of time. She has some aspects of a Reversed reading; her gaps and out-of-time phasings indicate a bit of emotional insecurity, and by her own admission she's bottled things up so she doesn't have to deal with the pain of seeing the future. But the Upright has been stronger with her by far. The fact that she put a sigil on Billy to give him time to come to terms with who he is speaks volumes about her compassion. It's a card that fits her to a T. I also love the modified card - for the most part, they're using a bog-standard Rider-Waite Deck, but most of the cards are in this drawing are modified. The Queen is usually depicted sitting in a throne, but this deck has her in front of a table - ready to divine and interpret and intuit. Less above her people than the normal card, and more of an equal.

What's Missing - Three of Pentacles - The Coven. I talked in depth about this one before. The only thing that changed is who the reading is for - in the first episode it showed up, the reading was for Agatha. But she wasn't the only one who lost her original coven, Lilia lost hers too. She needed them as much as Agatha did; after all, what is a witch without her coven? And as much as they bicker and lack trust in each other, they have become what they've been missing. This card is modified by making the figures standing in a group look like the Coven - Lilia, Agatha, Jen, Billy, Alice, and yes, even Rio. Oddly enough, not Sharon, suggesting either a) the art department didn't have enough room to fit her in, b)she was never a true witch, therefore not part of the Coven, or c) she was close enough to death even before the Road that Rio was essentially following her - metaphorically.

Path Behind - Knight of Wands - Alice. I talked a lot about this card in episode 5, and I don't know that there's a lot to add here. Lilia goes for the simple definition; a knight full of fire and energy. She leaves out the impulsiveness, but probably has to do with sentimentality and choosing to remembering her heroism. Path behind is obvious; her death was significant, and affected the Coven strongly. Since this is Lilia's reading, I think Alice's death is maybe the catalyst for her to start really confronting her own mortality, and her own Path. Again, the card is modified, depicting a knight holding a staff (interchangeable name for Wands) in the same stance Alice was using to save Agatha. Normally it's a knight on a reared-up horse, with the staff held upright. Both versions of the card indicate a very aggressive, action-oriented person, which Alice very much is.

Path Ahead - The High Priestess - Jen. This one is making me FERAL. So the card here is barely modified - the only difference is the High Priestess looks like Jen. And I've talked about what that means in the first post I made about tarot in this show. What it means HERE, however, is super interesting. First of all, Lilia uses the phrase "unwilling or unable to use it" which specifically refers to a Reversed reading, even though the card itself was drawn Upright. And we know that while Jen succeeded in her Trial, all it really did was help her feel confident in her knowledge of the craft; her origins as a root-worker. It didn't remove her bindings. So in some ways, she's not yet the High Priestess Upright, But given that this is the Path Ahead, I think it means she will be. But what does it mean that she is the Path Ahead? I have a guess, but stick with me here. First of all, The High Priestess is the master of the unconscious and spirituality. Secondly, the Path Ahead is for the Traveler, meaning it's specifically LILIA'S Path Ahead. Also, There's a line in the Ballad about "Spirits as our Guide." So my guess, is at some point, Jen is going to be unblocked, and when she is, she's gonna call on the spirits of those who died on the Road - including Lilia. There's a reason Lilia was okay making the sacrifice she did, and why she was so insistent on Jen specifically getting out of there. I could be wrong, but I think the signs are there, and I cannot wait to see if I'm right.

Obstacles - Three of Swords - Agatha. Interesting, this one probably has several implications. Three of Swords represents heartache and grief. For Lilia specifically, one of her biggest obstacles has been her grief over seeing everyone she knows and loves die well before they do, and being unable to stop it. It's stopped her from using her power to it's full potential and kept her from connecting with and caring about people. She's needed to let that go, accept that Death comes for everyone, and that her visions having meaning and purpose, even if she can't change them. The card is mostly the same, they've just put a figure in the foreground that doesn't normally exist, aka Agatha. So it also kind of implies that Agatha, specifically Agatha's own heartache, has also been a giant obstacle to Lilia, and probably the coven as a whole - continuing the theme that actually, Agatha is her own worst enemy, which tracks.

Windfall - Tower Reversed - William/Billy/Teen. I've already talked about how this relates to Billy, but this reading is for Lilia. So the personal transformation is HERS. Violent and disruptive, but she'll become something new. What will she become? A spirit, maybe? Something else, something more? Or is it that in her final moments, she becomes the strongest, most complete version of herself? I'm inclined towards something beyond - she looks almost ecstatic when she draws it, and tied together with her Path Ahead being The High Priestess, I think she realizes while she may die, she's not done, and she's gonna be GLORIOUS. The card here isn't significantly modified, I believe it might be, but it was so quick I couldn't catch exactly how.

Destination - Death - Rio. And we get the (highly telegraphed) reveal that Rio is Death. Normally the card is Black Knight on a White Horse, but here it's just Rio in Grim Reaper guise. Makes sense, given that in this universe she predates Tarot, so in this deck, the card is based on her. Reading superficially, it's just that all roads lead to Death. But the card is more complicated than that and Lilia knows it. Because the Death card isn't just about physical death. It's about embracing the endings and accepting fate so that something new can begin. The personal transformation promised as the Windfall cannot happen unless one is willing to let the old self end. And Rio is the original Green Witch. A flower cannot grow without nutrients, and soil is enriched by what dies in it. So Lilia knows at this point she has to die. But it's okay now, because it's not an end, it's a new beginning. And I'm crying as I'm writing this. And I think the writers were SO CLEVER that the last shot we see of Lilia is of her as young girl, with her mentor saying "Let's Begin".

I think overall the writers have been very good with their use of tarot, and their layout is very cool. I also think it's very smart that they've associated certain cards with certain witches, and that the words Lilia was using in association with the cards were their basic definitions only. It makes sense; we're talking about a visual medium, and the way she did it was punchier, and more dynamic than doing an in depth interpretation of the cards. But what it didn't do was give us the reading as a whole, and almost tricked the audience into forgetting or dismissing the idea that the reading was for Lilia alone instead of the coven, and that the cards are working together to paint a fuller picture. But this episode has also shown that somebody on the writing staff knows their tarot, or at the very least did a lot of research. And I think there's a deeper interpretation to be had; Lilia's died, but she is not done.

I'm so excited for the last two episodes. I don't know if we'll see more cards after this, but I'm not ruling it out as a possibility. I also have the rest of the cards that were drawn this episode, which I'll go into in Part 2 of this (maybe 3, who knows, there were a LOT of cards). It should be up soon, but I need a bit of a break after writing this one. hope you all enjoyed it!

Here's the Links to Past Episodes

Episode 1-3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6 Episode 7 Part 2

[wanderingblindly]

From the ask game: flip flop with any scene from the Seattle/photography fic? Or maybe when they first met? I’d love to read what Lando’s feelings were at that moment lmao

- CX

(ask game) (original fic)

I’m cutting myself off before I rewrite the entire thing what the fuck hahahahahha

“They didn’t even bring tabs!” George flails in his enthusiasm; Lando’s arms loosely tossed around his shoulder, leaning against him from his perch on the counter, and lets himself be jostled.

“They’re babies, mate, they not gonna —”

“I knew to bring tabs for the syllabus back then, so —”

Alex takes a swig of his shitty beer. “Thank god we’re not all like you, Georgie.”

“Rude.”

Lando’s used to feeling eyes on him. Like long grass grazing his ankles, it used to draw his attention; but now it’s merely a passing fact, white noise in his life that fades until it’s nothing.

And yet — half listening to Alex and George bicker, half enjoying the safety of their closeness — he feels them. Buzzing on his skin, sharper than the grass he knows, he feels them.

Over George’s tirade, he hears him before he sees him: “Yeah, uh, yeah. Thanks for having us.”

Lando looks over towards the kitchen door, catching the strangers eyes with ease — a ball to a waiting glove. They’re already a little unfocused, shoulders tilted crookedly; he’s already pretty far gone, grabbing a seltzer off the table for something to do.

His eyes leave him as fast as he found him; and yet they want to draw back.

“Didn’t even bring a pencil to class today,” Lando chips in, feeling George’s tense under his arms.

“Mate,” Alex says, letting himself lean against the kitchen wall with an exasperated smile. “Gonna get him going,”

“Why can’t you take anything seriously,” George starts, shifting to drop Lando’s arms and look at him fully.

“Don’t remember you being my TA,” He smiles, focusing on Alex’s resulting giggles. “When’d you switch to psych?”

George stutters out a response, somehow sounding drunker the more worked up Lando gets him. It makes him smile, warmth building in his stomach as he takes in how much he loves them, but a small part of his mind lingers by the kitchen island. Lingers on the glimmer of red cheeks and drunken staring he saw there.

---

He’s met her once or twice, maybe had a seminar together or something. Or maybe she works at one of the libraries, one of the cafes just outside. He can’t really remember, leaning back on the couch, jaw cupped in his hand, and listening. She’s nice enough, bubbly enough to fill the gap left by George and Alex sneaking away to do what the do in private.

They don’t think he knows, but he obviously put that together a while back. Maybe they’ll put their heads together and realize they’re in love one of these days; the thought makes Lando smile, her cheeks turning a distinctly inebriated sort of splotchy red. Flustered.

His eyes flick to the other side of the room.

He’s still watching, that boy whose flush looks more like soft candy floss than red ink. Pressed against the wall, clearly the wrong side of tipsy, and staring. It gives him a moment of pause, the glassy sheen to his eyes almost like a tourist gazing up at the Winged Victory — so different than usual; reverent rather than rapacious.

“And so then I was like, ‘Carrie, you can’t just say that about a person!’ You know? Like, so uncalled for,” She scoffs, edges tinged with a giggle, and draws Lando back down to earth. He laughs along, mind elsewhere.

He doesn’t like being stared at, the feeling of being more a fixation than a person. And yet.

He sees the man slip out of the room, forgetting to close the front door against the crisp spring air.

---

Bit excessive, Lando thinks as he steps out onto the porch. Sitting out in the dark all alone, even for a quieter guy, it’s just. Lando lingers on the edges of the porch light, suddenly unsure about the entire thing.

Maybe he made it up, that brief moment of distinction in the living room.

He walks up to him anyways, slipping into the second rocking chair like it’s second nature. And he waits, tucking up his feet to make himself comfortable, sparing a glance at his new neighbor.

Soft nose, soft cheeks, sharp jaw, all painted rosey in the dark. It’s started to run down his neck, flooded up to dust his ears. It’s precious, Lando smiled a little, watching him breathe so deeply while clearly struggling to keep it together. Reminds him a bit of George when they fist met, too sharp and too soft and bleeding at the edges.

“Bit sick?”

He jumps, Lando winces. Not his smoothest start. But the man looks at him, and Lando wishes — without meaning to — that it was daylight.

“Already looked pretty sloshed in the kitchen,” He shifts, making himself more comfortable. “Go too hard at the pre?”

The silences stretches between them. Normally, Lando would give up and go talk to someone else — conversations soaked in beer and seltzer don’t really matter, anyways. But he doesn’t want to.

He raises a brow. “Gonna say something?”

“I’m, uh. Oscar.” Lando smiles a little; he looks like an Oscar, somehow. In the roundness of his nose and the lilt of his accent, he’s an Oscar.

“Lando.”

“Weird name.” His eyes blow wide as he says it, and Lando doesn’t bristle like he normally would. It’s almost… endearing. Like a cat that scared itself with its own tail.

Instead, he laughs. And he means it. “Yeah, get that a lot.”

The breeze is biting, but Oscar’s gaze — fixated and definitely a little awkward — is warm. He shivers at them both.

“Are you… cold?” He stumbles over the words, their earnestness driving into Lando’s ribs like a knife.

George would have reminded him that he should have brought a jacket. “Nah, I’m fine,” He nuzzles his nose into his elbow, waiting to get used to it. He could just go inside, he doesn’t really *have* to be —

“No, it’s. Erm.” Oscar pitches forward in the rocking chair, nearly tumbling out of it. It would be hilarious if Lando didn’t realize what he was doing, clumsy fingers trying to grab the bottom of his sweatshirt, struggling to pull it over his head.

His shirt lifts a bit in the process, exposing the skin just above his jeans — the unexpected line of his abs. Lando’s eyes snap away when Oscar finally gets his head unstuck, holding the sweatshirt out between them.

His hair’s a rumpled mess, eyes trained on Lando’s face with a sort of… fevered servitude.

“Here.” He breathes, and Lando notices that his shirt is crooked from the ordeal. It looks like he just woke up, disheveled by his sheets.

Lando feels his face run hot as he gingerly grabs the sweatshirt, warm and soft and well-loved in his hands.

“I — yeah, thanks.” He gets on, unable to look away from Oscar’s… everything. Putting it on feels like some sort of promise, heart skipping a beat when the sleeves fall beyond his one fingers.

But maybe it’s nothing. Oscar’s eyes, his sweatshirt.

Maybe it’s just the spring air.

“What’s your major?”

Oscar smiles, and Lando realizes it: he’s fucked.