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joelsgoldrush · 1 year ago

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swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me <///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by.

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night.

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on?

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities.

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.”

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?”

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing.

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about.

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you.

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?”

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around?

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame.

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames.

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket.

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp.

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you.

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room.

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.”

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick.

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room.

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse.

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.

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hsyvers · 1 year ago

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I WANT SOME (OF YOUR LOVE) - spiderwoman!h.yj x f!reader

SYPNOSIS; yunjin being late to band practice is slowly becoming a habit...and you think you know why. yunjin also has a habit of blushing around you, and you definitely know why.

NOTES; 1.9k. it's all fluff <3 i watched across the spiderverse and had to...lsrfm is a rock band 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 yunjin being a terrible liar and chaewon being done w her bs 😭 there's a little bit of swearing

"shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

yunjin is late to band practice. again.

which, in theory, should be fine. punctuality was important to her but, hey, in the life of spiderwoman, there had to be sacrifices, right?

"jen, where are you?"

delivered 5 minutes ago. she'll arrive in another 5. shit.

"jm almost theref i orimkse!;" 🗣🧍‍♀️✈"

you stare at your phone with narrowed eyes, your brain trying to process and translate the foreign language.

"hey," you hear chaewon, the leader of your band, call you, "have any idea where your girlfriend is?" she teases, though you can sense a little bit of frustration from her part, which was understandable, knowing that yunjin was her friend too.

"girlfriend!?"

"girlfriend?"

"girlfriend!"

the other three shout simultaneously. eunchae's eyes are sparkling, kazuha's mouth is open in an "O" shape, and sakura looks like she's about to interrogate you on when, why, how, and where this happened.

you throw off the others with a wave of your hand, offering the leader an apologetic smile, tapping your drumsticks on your lap, "ignoring the "girlfriend" part because she isn't, but she did say she'd be here soon."

chaewon merely gives an unconvinced hum, inspecting her microphone while kazuha tunes her bass guitar, eunchae tests her keyboard, and sakura practices rifts on her electric guitar. you tap your drumsticks on the cymbal a little nervously.

"i'm here!" a loud voice announces, as huh yunjin finally runs in, her hair looking messed up, her clothes ruffled, and her own electric guitar lugging along with her on one shoulder. chaewon purses her lips at the scene, but you simply leap from your chair and towards yunjin.

the taller girl closes her eyes and braces for a lecture, but all she feels is gentle hands weaving through her hair. she opens her eyes and looks into yours. you don't look mad...?

"huh yunjin," you whisper.

"hm?" she hums dazedly, her cheeks turning a warm pink when your hands move to pat at her wrinkled clothes.

"what's your excuse this time?" sakura chimes instead, stealing your question from you. at this, yunjin smiles sheepishly, sneaking a glance at you for advice on how to approach this, but all you give her is a slight nod. she sighs.

"i actually have a very good excuse for this and, well....i-"

"she was picking something up for me," you answer for her, with your back still facing the rest of the band. yunjin looks at you, failing to hide her relieved expression, and you shake your head at her before turning around and having a staring contest with chaewon.

the leader sighs and gestures for the both of you to get on stage, "just don't make a habit of it, please, that was the third time this week, jen."

"yes ma'am," the blond electric guitarist nods with a grin, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and running to the stage before you could reprimand her.

you huff, rubbing your cheek, and you make your way back to your drums, deciding to talk to her privately about it later.

you take no notice of how hot your cheeks felt, and you certainly pretend that you're unaware of yunjin's stares.

"I can't keep covering for you, yunjin," you mumble, patting gently at the cut on her cheek. she lets out a pained whine as you do so, but you don't let up.

yunjin doesn't say anything at first, not when you're in such a...compromising position.

'is this on purpose?' she thinks, because between you straddling her lap and treating her stinging wounds, it's either the pain or how horredously down bad she is that's making her this dizzy.

and your face was terribly close. she swallows, not making direct eye contact with you.

"hey," your lips curl into a small smirk, and yunjin makes the mistake of looking up. her cheeks immediately color when her gaze locks with yours, "you've been uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal with me today."

you bandage her cheek carefully, then moving on to the small gash on her stomach.

"may I?"

her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she lifts up her own shirt for you, and you roll your eyes playfully at how dramatic she's being. you feel her squeeze your arm when you disinfect it, with you biting your lower lip in concentration.

"is this really necessary?" she finally gathers the courage to ask, and she gestures to you sitting on her lap as though it wasn't your first time.

"why?" you whisper, finishing up the first-aid, the tip of your nose touching hers, "does it bother you, spiderwoman?

and yunjin tries. she tries her absolute hardest not to give in, because she wonders if this was all a game to you. she wonders if yesterday night had happened at all.

yunjin doesn't know why you're so calm when she had just saved your life.

she had thought that after the shock of almost being burgled, you'd be shaking like every other person would be. but instead, here you were, sitting on the edge of your fire escape, offering her half your sandwich.

she's hanging upside down, her mask only lifted high enough for her lips to be visible as she quietly accepts the food after you refused to take back your offer.

"can i ask you a question?"

yunjin nods slowly, "go ahead."

"are you always this caring towards the people you save?"

she's caught off-guard by the question and grateful that the mask was hiding her flustered expression.

"...i don't know what you mean."

you raise an eyebrow, a shit-eating grin on your face, though it did look a little strange for her from this angle, "really? well, do you bring every single one of them home? and stay a while? do you somehow know all their addresses? are you secretly a stalker?"

yunjin rolls her eyes underneath her mask, but her heart is racing. were you implying that you knew it was her?

knowing she wasn't sure of what to say, you lean closer to her masked face, and yunjin swears that she hears your breathing get slightly shaky.

"jennifer," you whisper, relishing in the way she tenses up visibly, "you know you're terrible at hiding things and how you're feeling, right?"

the last bit of sandwich she has in her hand drops, and she catches it with her web and a small yelp, making you giggle. her jaw hangs open and she racks her head, thinking how she could save this.

but, she knows, if there is any chance of anyone ever knowing about her secret, it would be you.

"how did you know?" she manages to say, her lips pursing.

"let's just say you're pretty obvious," you say, "at least, to me. and in more than one way."

"your voice, your mannerisms, and the subtle hints..."

yunjin finds herself staring at your lips. 'oh my god,' she thinks, mentally facepalming, 'is this really the best time to be dreaming about kissing her, huh yunjin?'

"wait, what?" oh. how articulate.

you let out a soft laugh at her dumbfounded tone, and she finds herself moving closer, and closer.

"if you already know who i am," you can feel her warm breath on your lips, "and you know how i feel, then, what are you going to do about it?"

"i can think of something," you say, staring at her lips, and she finally closes the gap, her lips hesitantly brushing against yours, before you cup her cheeks with your hands and you pull her close.

god, an upside down kiss. she could literally die happy now.

she could hardly register what's happening before you pull away. her lips chase yours, but you only giggle before gently pulling her mask off. there she is, the person who's been plaguing your daydreams.

"wanna come in and talk?"

"...more kisses?"

"mhm, if we talk."

"deal."

unfortunately, your roommate had called from inside, and she immediately pulls her mask back on. you're just about to apologise, but she shakes her head.

"tomorrow?" she asks, hopefully.

you pull her mask down again, just enough to give her one last kiss. she's almost afraid the web that's holding her up will break from how weak every part of her is feeling right now.

"tomorrow."

well, tomorrow was here. and fuck, she wants to kiss you again.

"wait," yunjin presses her index finger to your lips, "you promised we'd talk."

"right," you smile, opting for a kiss on her forehead instead, and she can feel the gears in her head screeching at this point, "sorry, you just look extremely kissable."

yunjin's hands settle hesitantly on your hips while your arms wrap around her neck, "what do you wanna talk about?"

"first of all," yunjin tilts her head, "what are we?"

"whatever you want," you tease, making her pout, to which you giggle, "okay, okay."

"jennifer huh," you say in a more serious voice, somehow making her posture straighten. you lean your forehead on hers, your voice laced with lovesick undertones that makes her heart melt, "i want to be your girlfriend."

yunjin can't stop herself from grinning.

"again."

"what?" you pull back a little to see her entire face. she looks happy. you love when she's happy.

"say it again," yunjin whispers breathlessly, her hand reaching up to cup the side of your face, her thumb brushing against your lips, "please."

"huh yunijn," your head feels fuzzy, but you nod as you humour her, shivering when her other hand starts playing with the hem of your shirt, "i want to be your girlfriend. that is, if you wa-"

she doesn't allow you to finish her sentence before she presses her lips to yours, making a surprised sound leave your throat. your hands tangle in her hair, and when you pull a little, you feel giddy when she whines softly.

this time, she pulls away first, but you don't chase her lips. you don't have to, anyway.

yunjin clears her throat, her blush getting redder as she gives a indifferent shrug, "sure, sure. yeah, that sounds good."

you scoff, slapping her shoulder playfully.

"okay! okay, i'm sorry, babe," yunjin pouts, and it's honestly terrifying how much of an effect she has on you already.

also. woah. babe. you're mentally giggling and kicking your feet at this point. not that you're ever gonna let her know.

"i want to be your girlfriend too," she kisses your cheek, "but, you do know what comes along with being spiderwoman's girlfriend, don't you?"

"enlighten me!"

"i mean, i'm somehow always in trouble, which means you could get into trouble, and it can and will be dangerous, and oh god, i wonder if we should even-"

"nuh uh," you interrupt, using your hand to cover her mouth.

her eyebrows furrow as she lets out muffled complaints, and you tsk at her, "you've already saved me once, jen. i'd trust you with my life. i've got your back and you have mine."

yunjin takes your hand off her mouth and she sighs in defeat, nodding, "you're right."

"aren't i always?" you question in faux offense and she snorts in return, looking at you with so much fondness that it made your heart ache.

she nuzzles her face into your neck and pulls you closer, "it means a lot, you know."

"i know."

"babe, please tell me you're almost here 🧍‍♀️"

you stand outside your home, weaving your hand through your hair, waiting for her reply. you look away from your phone and up at the sky, the blue appearing especially pretty today. then, suddenly, you see a small, dark-suited figure flying through the same sky.

you think you're hallucinating until you see the mask up close, and your eyes widen comically when your girlfriend swoops by and picks you up smoothly by your waist with one arm, her other one preoccupied with webbing. other than the deafening whistle of the air as you shot up, you hear her breathless, excited voice, "hi, babe!"

"y-yunjin!" you yelp when your legs almost land on top of a random car in traffic, "this is not what i meant by picking me up for practice!"

spiderwoman only laughs, fleeting and free, amd your breath hitches in your throat.

ah, fuck.

you bury your face in her neck, focusing on how warm and secure her arm felt around your waist instead.

"you owe me for putting me through this!"

"aw, come on! now, be honest, would you give this ride a 5 star rating?"

"yunjin!"

#le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #kpop x reader

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 months ago

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There's No Place Like Home: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Charlie is back from Oz but she's not quite how Sam and Dean remember her. You're pretending to be on your best behavior, but you're making it clear that anyone who stands in your way is only going to end up hurt.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

"LET ME OUT! I'm gonna kill you two!!" you yell from inside the dungeon.

Sam and Dean are in the library above and even through concrete floors and thick walls, they can still hear you. Not loudly but if it's silent, your words are pretty clear. You've been locked in the dungeon for the past month while they figure out what to do with you. They hear you bang on the walls, slam your body against the door, and yell at the top of your lungs, and Dean figures you'll tire yourself out sooner or later.

"What's going to happen if she manages to get out?" Sam asks.

"She won't."

"If she does?"

"She won't, Sam," Dean sighs.

"Humor me."

"I don't know, okay? I don't know what to do about my soulless wife. I don't know how I'm going to be able to heal her if she continues down this road. I don't know what's going to happen if the Mark wins. Sooner or later, she's gonna..." Dean doesn't even want to finish that sentence. "I don't know, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam whispers.

"This Mark is making her go insane piece by piece and I'm honestly afraid that I'll be too late. That I won't be able to purify her soul in time. That'll be my fault she's dead."

"Come on, you don't really think that, do you?" Dean sends a look to his brother who decides a change of pace is needed. "I liked the omelets you made this morning, and you slept past seven for once."

Dean appreciates what his brother is doing for him and he'll take the distraction even if it'll only work for a few hours.

"Thanks. Until we get answers on this Mark of Cain, I am on a twelve-step program not to backslide."

"Twelve?"

"Yeah. If Cain found a way to live with it after going dark side, then I just gotta find a way to keep it in check. I haven't had a drink in a week, eight hours of sleep every night, and now I'm making omelets."

"That's three steps."

"Shut up," Dean rolls his eyes and grabs his empty plate. "As soon as we get rid of this demonic tramp stamp, I am back on the booze, burgers, and more booze. Tell me you got something."

"I'm working on it," Sam sighs and goes back to researching.

Dean takes his brother's plate and walks it back to the kitchen with his own. Once he's alone, he touches the Mark worriedly. What's going to happen if he can't get to you in time? Will he have it in him to drive a knife through your heart? Would he be able to survive only seeing you in his dreams?

As the hours drag on, Dean and Sam notice it's been quiet in the dungeon. You either tired yourself out or you're planning an escape. Either way, you've shut up.

Dean joins his brother back in the library who has not moved from his spot. Instead of researching the Mark, he's watching something on his laptop that has him concerned.

"What the hell?" Sam mutters and leans in closer to the screen.

"Cain or Crowley?"

"Charlie."

"She's back from Oz? She didn't call?"

"I guess she's been busy. I've been looking into the news and checking for anything weird, right? I found this story about a torture vic. Apparently, some kid videotaped this at his next-door neighbor's house."

Dean watches the video but he's unsure what he's looking at. Though, he can clearly see it's Charlie.

"What are you saying, Charlie tortured someone?" Sam shrugs. "Our Charlie? Wouldn't hurt a Hobbit and practically sparkles?" Dean shakes his head and takes out his phone to call her. Though, she's not picking up. "Come on, Charlie. Pick up."

"The guy she went all psycho on is Peter Harper. He's a district attorney in Topeka. According to this article, he wasn't the only person in town that was hit. A court stenographer was assaulted the night before."

"She's not answering the phone," Dean sighs. "Charlie wouldn't go off on someone without a reason."

"Yeah, I wouldn't think so either, but look at the video."

"Oh, I'm looking at it, but you know what we do, taken out of context, it doesn't look that much different. She could be hunting." Sam sighs and Dean cracks his neck a few times. "Why don't we go talk to this asshat and see what's going on?"

"What about Y/N?"

"She's in time out. I'll have Cas pop in every few hours to make sure she hasn't chewed the doors off the hinges."

Sam leaves to get ready but Dean stays in the library a moment longer. He touches his mark when he starts to feel it burn slightly. You take a break from picking at the wall to look up at the ceiling where you know Dean is currently standing. Your mark is burning which can only mean his is, too.

A smirk grows on your face at the thought of it bringing pain to him.

Dean leans over just as his head starts to hurt, and he sits down so he can ride out this memory he never knows is coming.

God, I hate getting these. Not only am I forced to relive these moments a second time, I have to relive them through Y/N's eyes. There have been times when she's gone through it worse than I have. The things this woman has done for me to protect me are... I have no words for how amazing she is.

That's why seeing her like this brings me so much pain... knowing I can't do anything to help her.

I'm tied to a chair and see myself tied to the pillar Magnus tied me to in his invisible mansion. Magnus opens the glass container containing the Blade, and I wish to God I never took the damn mark.

"Should we fire it up?" Magnus smirks at Dean.

"Go to hell."

"Oh, come on, Dean. This is the object of your quest. Tell me Henry Winchester's grandson isn't curious to see if it works. Give me your hand." Dean doesn't do what he wants, and Magnus grows impatient. He grabs his hand forcefully. "Give me your hand!"

"Get off of him!" I yell.

Magnus forces the blade into Dean's hand, and almost immediately, Dean's mark starts to glow red. I've always known my mark connects me to Y/N but I never knew by how much until this very moment. I knew how that mark felt burning on my arm, but I never knew how much it affected my wife.

The longer Dean holds the blade, the more my own mark starts to burn. The veins on his arm glow the same color as the Mark, and I look down to see the same thing happening on Y/N.

"Stop it! You're hurting him!" I cry out in pain.

Magnus yanks the blade away from Dean so he can use it on me. Mangus walks over to me and shoves the blade into my hand. This unlocks a dark side to her magic that I will never be able to understand.

My entire body goes up in blue flames at the same time I let out a loud scream from the mourning sensation on my collarbone. Why is hers on her collarbone and mine on my arm? I've never understood that. For a split second, and it's gone as quickly as it comes, my body feels an evil presence. It's like the devil you read about in books is right behind me. I'm not sure what that is but it's gone before I can even think about it.

"Dude, you okay?"

Dean is pulled from his own head by Sam who has been tapping on his shoulder for the past minute.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Drop it, Sammy," Dean sighs and stalks off to his room to get ready.

After both men are ready, they leave you alone in the Bunker and head to Topeka which is only four hours away from the Bunker. If they have to come back because of you, they could do it quickly. The district attorney agreed to speak to Sam and Dean even though he's terrified since Charlie got away.

"Now, did you notice anything odd before the attack? Any strange smells or weird noises?" Sam asks.

"No, no, nothing. I was just at home here, getting ready for bed, and that crazy bitch jumped me. All she wanted to know was about some case that I worked on years ago--a drunk driver T-boned another car, killing the driver, and the passenger was declared brain-dead on the scene."

"The Middletons," Dean says. He did his research before coming over here. "They had a daughter who was twelve years old. They were on their way to pick her up."

"Yeah, that's right. How did you know?" Peter asks.

"We do our homework at the FBI."

"Then you know the case never went to trial. Before I could even see the evidence, it was off the books. All the files were sealed."

"How is that even possible?" Sam wonders.

"I don't know, but I looked into it this morning. There's no record of that case anywhere and the arresting officer has since passed away. There's nothing, except for this," Peter slides a file across the table to Dean, "the social service file on the Middletons' kid. It's not very helpful, to be honest with you. The kid has disappeared, until now."

"Is there anything else you can remember about the case? Any names you can think of?"

"No, like I told the police, it was a long time ago. I'm sorry."

There's something the man is hiding. If he was the lawyer on the Middleton case and didn't get to see the evidence, Dean doesn't think Charlie would go after him.

"Here's the thing," Sam smiles and walks closer to him, "we talked to the other victim on the way here. You know, the stenographer? She said the attacker didn't let her go until she gave up a name--your name."

"What does that have to do with me being attacked in my own home?" Peter stutters.

"What name did you give up?" Dean asks.

"Look, I told you everything I told the police. This woman comes in here, beats the shit out of me, but there's no name to give up, so I don't know what else to--" Dean shoves Peter's chair back so he is only balancing on the back two legs of the chair. "What are you doing?!"

"Talk, you son of a bitch!"

"Look, I'm the victim here!"

Dean makes a move to drop his chair backward but catches it at the last second.

"Talk!!"

"Okay! Okay!" Dean rights his chair and Peter rubs his hands nervously together. "After the files were sealed, I pushed. They offered me money... a lot of money if I'm to be honest."

"Give me a name," Dean glares.

"I will be disbarred!"

"That'll be the least of your worries, I promise you that."

Peter sighs and sags his shoulders in defeat.

"Councilwoman Barbara Cordry."

Barbra isn't as forthcoming as Peter was. She answered her door but she didn't let Sam and Dean inside her house. Whoever she is afraid of got her locked inside of her own house.

"Barbara Cordry?" Sam asks and knocks.

The door opens and the brothers can see suitcases packed by her front door. Not only is she scared, she's running.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm Special Agent Gabriel. This is my partner, Special Agent Collins. May we come in?" Sam asks.

"What's this about?"

"We have some questions about a drunk-driving case from a while back involving the Middleton family."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she quickly says.

"Ma'am, if we could just—"

"Sorry. I'm still on vacation," she cuts Dean off. "Feel free to schedule an appointment with my assistant. She'll pencil you both in."

She immediately shuts the door and the brothers look at each other while walking away from her house.

"Guilty much?"

"Yeah."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

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ashers-transition · 2 years ago

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2 Months T Update (February 13, 2023)

If you're wondering if I'm ever going to post one of these on time, the answer is no. Anyway, here's my two months update!

Just like before, I will be skipping over anything that hasn't changed and only discussing the changes that I have noticed.

My other transition logs can be found here:

Pre T 1 Month

Please check my pinned post for more info about me and why I started this blog!

CWs: eye contact (in video), discussion of menstruation, discussion of appetite and disordered eating.

(If I’ve missed any content warnings that I should include, please let me know and I will add them in).

Facial Hair

Prior to starting T, I already some darker hairs around my upper lip. It's hard to tell for sure, but I believe I not have slightly more in that area. It's still not very noticeable, especially at a distance. Here are some comparisons, with the first image in the set being pre T and the second being now (2 months on T).

Menstrual Cycle

In my pre T post, I mention that I struggle with chronic pain, and that I get a flare whenever I get my period, with the first day being the worst. I started a new pain medication around three months ago that has lessened those flares enough for me to be functional during them.

For my second period on T, things started to change. This time around, I did not have any extra pain while on my period (at least, not enough for me to be able to tell in addition to my usual pain). That being said, I did have a much longer period than usual, with a much much lighter flow. It was light enough that I could go through a whole day without bleeding through a liner, but my period itself did last for three weeks. I talked to my doctor about this and she did say that this is something that can happen, so there isn't any need for concern.

I know having a month long period sucks, but considering my usual pain when I'm on my period, I honestly would rather have longer, lighter periods with no pain than more "normal" ones with pain.

Acne

I have once again noticed a slight increase in acne. It still is within the realm of a normal breakout for me, but I might try switching up my skin care routine if it gets much worse*. If anyone has any tips let me know, lol.

(*note: I fully believe that acne is a neutral feature and is not inherently bad. It only becomes an issue if it starts negatively affecting you; for example, if it becomes painful. I personally struggle with BFRBs, and acne can be a trigger for me).

Energy Levels, Pain, and POTS

I already struggle with fatigue quite a bit, but honestly this past month was more rough than usual. I think it might be related to being on my period for a full three weeks, but I ended up taking multiple naps most days and sleeping odd hours in general. This isn't completely unusual for me, but I haven't had it to that extent in a while.

As for pain and POTS symptoms, I haven't noticed a difference. I did faint once, which is not common for me, but it was in a controlled environment (medical testing).

Appetite

I have noticed a bit more of an increase in my appetite. It isn't that big of a difference, but I am more consistently eating 3 meals a day, sometimes with snacking in between.

Voice

I'm starting to notice more of a difference in my voice. While still not too bad, my voice has been cracking more than usual lately. I'm unable to pretend-scream as easily as I was before (I get dramatic when playing video games), and I also am struggling more when singing in the car lol. That being said, no one has mentioned noticing a difference in my voice other than one of my partners, who I showed a direct comparison to my pre T voice.

[Video description: A waist high video of Asher talking to the camera. End video description.]

[Video transcript: "Hi, my name is Asher, and this is my voice 2 months on T."]

Other

In my last update I mentioned that I'm planning on switching to taking injections due to a reaction I had to the gel. I have not switched yet (gotta wait for insurance stuff), but I have started rotating the application area more than I had been previously and it has helped a bit. By my next update, I will be on injections.

#medical transition #hrt #testosterone update #t update #testosterone gel #trans man #transmasc #trans resources #transition resources #actually disabled

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casspurrjoybell-23 · 8 months ago

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LOST and FOUND - Chapter 2 - Part 3

*Warning Adult Content*

On Thursday night I was pushing a shopping cart down the cereal aisle at the grocery store and failing at not worrying.

I had to be at work tomorrow morning and I was so nervous to see Jona again.

If he ended up showing up.

Which I was pretty positive he would.

He didn't look like the type to take no for an answer.

I picked up a box of strawberry Pop Tarts and tossed them into the cart.

They were on sale so I threw in a box of blueberry ones too.

I only had forty dollars to spend on groceries so I needed to spend it wisely.

Going to the store was very hard for me.

This particular store wasn't one that Harrison and I had gone to often.

He had insisted on shopping at the local health food store but that was where he had his heart attack and I refused to go there.

I knew if I went there a breakdown was inevitable.

I would be reduced to a sobbing mess on the dirty linoleum.

So that meant I had to go to the bigger chain store, which made me drive right past Harrison's bookstore.

It was a lose/lose situation.

I sighed and went to grab a box of cereal.

I was contemplating the many choices, trying to decide between Frosted Mini Wheats or Coco Puffs, when I heard...

"Beau?"

My brain short circuited as I recognized the voice.

I turned my head to right to see Jona coming down the aisle with a basket in his hand.

"I thought that was you," he said happily as he stopped next to my cart.

I didn't even know this guy existed five days ago and now I'd seen him three days this week.

I said the only thing that came to my mind.

"Are you stalking me?"

A short burst of laughter escaped his lips.

He shook his head.

"No, Beau, I'm not stalking you."

I looked at him and realized that what I'd seen him wearing before must have been his work clothes because now he was wearing a t-shirt that showed off his muscles and loose-fitting jeans.

My mouth watered and I looked away.

I decided to go with Coco Puffs and I tossed the box into my cart.

I really didn't want Jona seeing me right now.

I looked a hot mess.

I was wearing low hanging sweat pants and a shirt that Harrison had bought me at the fair two years ago, it had a fat unicorn puking rainbow glitter on it.

Plus my shoulder length hair was ratty and tangled.

I had put no effort into making myself look nice after I had gone to fix myself a snack and realized I had no food.

I figured it was late enough and there wouldn't be many people at the store, so who cared if I looked like a slob?

I was really regretting my decision now.

I started pushing my cart down the aisle and Jona followed me.

"Why don't you let me take you on a date?" he asked.

"No, thank you," I said, trying to sound polite as you could while turning someone down.

I needed to stay strong on this matter.

I couldn't let myself give in to his desires.

When I glanced back at him... I saw that he was watching my ass as I walked.

I frowned and looked forward again.

Who did he think he was?

Just staring at my ass like that.

I may have been trying to hide how much I liked it by pretending to be offended.

"I'm just going to keep asking until you say yes," he told me as I turned out of the aisle.

"That's harassment," I said.

"I don't think it's harassment, if you want to say yes."

I didn't know what to say to that because I'm pretty sure it would still be harassment if I kept telling him no and he kept pursuing me.

I turned down the aisle with the peanut butter.

"Don't you have better things to do with your time? Shouldn't you be golfing or something?"

"Golfing?" he asked but I could hear the amusement in his voice.

After a moment he said...

"I'm not really into golfing but I play on an adult softball team."

I stooped down to grab the biggest jar of peanut butter on the bottom shelf.

"What do you do for fun, Beau?"

"Nothing really," I said, waddling to the cart with the peanut butter in my hands.

"Holy shit, that's a lot of peanut butter."

His cursing made me smile.

Harrison would have never said something like that.

The two of them were pretty much completely different.

That might have been a good thing.

I thought the only thing they had in common was that they were both the Alpha male type but Jona definitely showed it more outwardly.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked curiously.

"That's the first genuine smile I've ever seen from you."

"Just thinking," I said and began pushing the cart.

He stopped me by grabbing my arm.

I didn't try to get out of his grasp.

"Please go on a date with me, Beau."

I frowned.

"I can't. Please stop asking."

I lightly pulled my arm back but he didn't let go.

"You only want me to stop asking because you know you'll say yes eventually."

I couldn't deny that that was true.

I didn't say anything and just pulled my arm away again, testing him.

He squeezed my bicep and then let me go.

That's when he looked in my cart.

He looked confused.

"Do you have younger siblings, that you are shopping for?"

"No, it's just me."

I started to push the cart but he gripped it and held it in place.

"You can't live off this shit," he said, picking up the box of blueberry Pop Tarts, then dropping them back into the cart.

"You need to take care of yourself."

I lost my voice, thinking that Harrison would have said something really similar.

I looked up at Jona's face, the concern that showed in his expression.

Why did he care?

He didn't even know me.

I lifted my chin.

"Unless you're my boyfriend, you can't tell me what to do."

His nostrils flared at that.

I could see anger in his eyes but also... interest.

He had read into the subtext of my statement.

I liked my boyfriend to take control, to tell me what to do.

And now Jona knew that and he liked it.

I figured he would... I could feel the dominance rolling off him.

"I need milk," I said and started pushing the cart towards the dairy section.

Jona followed me.

I grabbed a gallon of one percent milk and set it in the cart.

Jona opened a nearby door and pulled out two containers of cottage cheese, one he put in his basket and the other he put in my cart.

"I don't want that," I said.

"It's good for you," he stated as if that would change my mind.

"I'm not going to eat it."

"It's good with peaches. You'll like it."

"I don't have any peaches."

He pulled out two peaches from his basket and set them in my cart.

I started breathing heavily.

I couldn't afford to pay for this stuff.

The reason for eating crappy food, other than not knowing how to cook, was that I literally could not afford healthy food.

The world was fucked up and food that was good for you was way more expensive than food that was bad for you.

"No, Jona," I said, still breathing heavily.

"I can't... I..."

Holy shit I was panicking.

Right in the middle of the store and right in front of Jona.

"I can't buy this..." I gasped.

"I can't afford it."

I was grabbing for the stuff in my cart but Jona grabbed my elbow and pulled me away from it.

"Hey, shh," he said and I took big gulps of air, trying to breath.

"Look at me. Look at me, Beau."

I looked up into his chocolate brown eyes.

He ran his hands up and down my arms and began talking me.

"Just look at me and try to breath, okay? Take slow breaths. Slow. Slower. That's it, good... you don't have to buy those things. I'll buy them, okay? I didn't mean to push you so hard... good breathing. See? I can handle your complicated, can't I?"

A little laughter bubbled up inside me and I let it out.

I started to lean into Jona and he wrapped his arms around me.

My cheek rested against his chest and I breathed in.

He didn't smell like Harrison but he still smelled like a man and I missed that scent.

He smelled so good, outdoorsy and musky and mouthwatering.

I let myself relax in his arms for much too long but eventually I pulled away.

"Thanks, Jona. I... I just... thanks."

The way he smiled at me was much sweeter and more subdued than his smile in the past had been.

It made my heart flutter.

I rubbed my eyes.

"What time is it?"

He checked his watch.

"Ten thirty."

I sighed.

"I need to go home. I have work in the morning, I should be sleeping."

He picked the peaches and cottage cheese out of my cart and put them back in his basket.

"Let me help you out."

"No, Jona," I said gently.

"Please, just let me go. Let me do it on my own."

He didn't look happy at this comment.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

That seemed to appease him because he nodded but he didn't smile.

"See you then. Bye."

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blessedbellatrix · 1 year ago

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We got married in two months

Yes, we did get married after two months of preparation and almost three months of being engaged. It was an extraordinary and amazing feat!

My husband (then fiancé) proposed to me on the first week of April after our church's mission trip in Palawan. Him proposing was not that unexpected because there were so many hints from people around us (our friends at church and family) that made me expect that something will happen. I am very perceptive so I was able to notice all the changes in tones of people when talking to me, subtle messages, written notes, and all. But of course, I did not say anything to anyone, except when I saw that delivery message of balloons in my fiancé's email LOL. I told him what I saw but we never talked about it again until after the proposal; we just pretended that I saw nothing. Fast forward to after the proposal, people were asking when we are planning to get married, and we couldn't give a definite answer because we also have no idea when. We got engaged but we do not have any plans yet. We would just say next year, or after two years probably, but we were not sure. We were waiting for something from the Lord (the big plan I'm still keeping for now) and we didn't want to make a decision without His confirmation. We felt pressure from people, but at the same time didn't want to decide on something that the Lord is not confirming with us yet.

We prayed and prayed for it and on the 19th of April, the Lord confirmed to my fiancé during our church Soaking (I was not able to attend that time) that God is allowing us to get married soon, very soon. I just listened to him while he was telling me the Lord's plan that night and agreed with him. The next morning, through my devotion, the Lord also confirmed it to me that we can get married soon, which is within the year, but not too late at the end. So we were convinced that this was the Lord's plan. BUT... we were worried about the money. We did not have much at that time because everything was in investments and there was nothing left because we each had our fair share of bills to pay. Yet this was what surprised me the most. When I was having my devotion and the Lord already confirmed to me His Word, He also told me where to get the money. It just came to me like a light bulb moment and I knew exactly that it was from the Lord. By then I was convinced that this wedding was His plan, and this will be His event, not ours. So we started telling everyone about it, including the month when we planned to get married, and not unexpected that there were concerns from our friends that it was too soon. We knew that they were just looking after us as it was really too soon. But we never had doubts in the Lord's mighty power that can lead us and help us prepare for the event.

So we started planning and I started getting stressed out at my partner for so many small reasons, which I was always regretful immediately after. Since it was the Lord's plan, I was thankful that He didn't let me get stressed in the planning itself, and I was always looking forward to adding details to the wedding plans. I've always loved planning and organizing, but I would always forget things, which I was thankful that the Lord would remind me on days. Getting old is tough LOL.

One of the things that we prayed for was the date of the wedding, we were choosing two dates - 3 and 17. Our preferred venue was available both dates, but since people started talking to us about typhoons in July, we prayed to the Lord for the day with clear skies, and He answered my partner during his soaking on April 26. The Lord told him that we could choose either because there will be no rains that day, so we chose July 3.

The reason we also had two dates to choose from was because of my studies. It was already expected that wedding preparations would overlap my thesis writing but I was also concerned on when I should ask my panelists to have my final defense. The dates would be very crucial because I wouldn't want to prepare for my defense while my wedding date is getting nearer, but also wouldn't want to be too late that I will miss the deadline of final presentation and submission of my draft (again). I was pushing for July 17 so I can have more time to prepare. My partner asked the Lord and He said that if we go for July 3, He would give me enough time to finish my thesis. Faithful enough, God really gave me time to do so and I was able to do my defense before the wedding, but had to do the revisions during our honeymoon. I felt a bit of guilt that I had to do my revisions while we were in our honeymoon, but I was so glad that my husband was so understanding.

When it was only one week before July and until July 2, it was always rainy in some mornings but mostly in the afternoons. There were also rains the night of July 2, but my partner and I were both confident that it won't pour the next day (on our wedding day). At the day of the wedding, my husband told his family not to bring any umbrella because it wouldn't rain, and no one brought one. It was a nice sunny day and no drop of rain poured. Then it proceeded to rain again the next day and the succeeding days, but as God promised, it also didn't pour a single drop on July 17. How amazing was that?!

I could go on and on about all the things that the Lord showed us while preparing and even during the wedding itself, and this blog wouldn't be enough to capture it, but one thing I am sure about is that the Lord was and is faithful. The two months preparation is almost impossible but we did it, only because of Him. It was not because we were great planners or organizers. We still had work during all these months and we were not into the preparation full time, but the Lord was so good. It was extraordinary because of Him. Not everything was perfect and what I had hoped as we had minor mishaps, but those were just small things that would not and could not ruin God's bigger plan for us. We felt His presence during the whole ceremony, and our prayer that everyone would also feel Him and know Him through our wedding happened. I know there were seeds that were planted in the hearts of our guests during that time. And those seeds will bloom in His perfect time.

Oh and hey, after a few days, I graduated with a Master of Arts degree! How great is our God?!

#christian blog #wedding #graduation #graduate school

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simp41ida · 2 years ago

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Hello. It is my first time requesting her but I live your work so I give it a try.

Last year my father (tw) died last year, do to the aftermath of Covid, after he was in a Coma for a few months and nearly mad it. And because of that I didn't needed to do my school work.

So I wanted ro request a Tenya iida x fem. Reader if this is alright where they are together already, but she didn't tell him about the whole thing and he just worries when she leaves the dorm at night ( it was like 3 am when it happened) and doesn't return for two weeks.

I give you some free room about his thoughts and what he does, but may you could include some cuddles and for head kisses.

Thank you very much. Also sorry that it is so long and detailed.

warnings: swearing, death of a parent, swearing (barely)

notes: i'm so very sorry for your loss. thank you for liking my work! you did a good job requesting. it helps that it's detailed because it makes it easier for me to come up with a plot. requests are open!!

you were sleeping peacefully. that's where everyone else in the dorms was actually. for you though, you'd been woken up by a phone call. it doesn't help that you fell asleep on top of the phone because the ringtone was obnoxiously loud.

waking yourself up, you debated whether or not you should answer it seeing as it was an unknown number. deciding to do the responsible thing, you answered it.

after the matter, you'd wished that you didn't. it was a call saying that your father had unfortunately passed away. you had known he was ill, but you had hope. you had weighed out your options oh how this would go leading into tomorow. (due to the late time, it technically was the next day as some people would like to correct.)

either you could wait until a later time to say goodbye, or you could do the most logical thing and leave right then and there. they would both end in the same result, but it was just the matter of how it was done.

you chose the answer that made the most sense to you. you gathered your phone, the charger, and some clothes for the upcoming days and left the school campus. all you had to do was make sure you didn't get caught by any monitors in the hallway (mr. aizawa)

he probably caught wind of this before you did, that's why when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, he pretended that he didn't see anything. he tried to put himself in your shoes in that situation.

the next morning, iida had knocked on your door. it had been a normal thing or the two of you to walk to the common room to get breakfast together in the morning. it worried him when you didn't answer.

nonetheless, he supposed that you were sick and needed a day off from school and let it be. he was worried all day though.

all of the days that you were gone piled up, and then he began to worry. he was in a conflicted scenario. if he was to ask the teacher why you hadn't been in school, then he could be dong something that could possibly hurt you in a way.

if he didn't ask though, then he'd be absolutely clueless and wouldn't even have a clue as to why you left him for so long. this would be hurting himself in a way.

iida did not end up asking anyone. it wasn't the best decision in his books, but it was for you. that boy would do anything for you.

two weeks later, when you walk back into the school building (coincidentally at three in the morning again) you made a mental note that everyone would be asking where you were.

that was just how that class was. involved and caring.

it wasn't going to be good to have to talk about it again, seeing as you'd spend the previous weeks thinking about it nonstop.

so, at three in the morning you knocked on iida's dorm room door. and at three in the morning he opened it. when he saw you, he rubbed his eyes and nearly dropped the glasses that he'd hastily picked up from his bedside table.

he saw the upset demeanor on your face. it almost made him feel upset. then he reminded himself that if one of you had to be strong right now, it would be him. and it was.

you clung to his torso to give him the hug that you'd desperately needed from him for the past week or so. he could feel the negative emotions coming from all around you. and your hair had smelt like hospital.

"love, do you want to talk about it?" he asked you gently. he wasn't sure how he could help, but he sure as hell was going to try.

"tenya he's gone. he almost made it and now i'll never be able to say goodbye." you sobbed into his chest. he could feel the vibrations of your voice within himself.

he tried thinking about who you knew that could be "gone." what did "gone" even mean in this situation?

"i'm so sorry, dear." he kisses your head. still hugging your shaking and crying body, he walked over to his bed. he knew that this was technically against the school dorm protocols, but this was an exception.

after you try to explain what had happened and why you were gone so long, he wraps you up in his ample supply of blankets that he had in a closet in case of emergencies.

he rubs your back with one of his arms and holds you with the other. he read a book once on how to comfort people properly. he guessed that it worked when he heard your breaths slow.

you had fallen asleep. he guessed that you both could worry about who "he" was tomorrow. he placed you beside him, and fell asleep as well.

#iida x reader #iidaxreader #tenya iida x reader #iida x you #tenya iida #iida fluff #iida x y/n #mha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x you #mha fluff #mha iida #♠star writes #♠venus #♠neptune

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efyra · 4 years ago

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Bubble Bath • Fred Weasley

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

summary: after an exhausting day at work, fred comes back home to his wonderful family.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff (?); mentions of sex.

author’s note: i had a dream about having kids with fred and this idea came into my mind - so i just had to write it?

like always, i’m sorry for any grammar mistake 🥺

reblogs are always welcome

you can check my other works here

The first time Fred Weasley thought "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life" - which he could remember - was in a summer of 1985 when Bill and Charlie taught him and George how to play Exploding Snap. The second was when he started his studies at Hogwarts in September 1989. The third was the following year when he and George were accepted into the Gryffindor’s Quidditch team as beaters. The fourth time was on a winter's afternoon in 1993 when he had his first kiss. The fifth was when the dream of opening a joke shop with his twin had become even closer to reality after Harry gave them the Triwizard Tournament prize. The sixth was in a 1995 night when he lost his virginity. The seventh time was the day Weasley's Wizard Wheezes opened at Diagon Alley in 1996. The eighth was in May 1998 with the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The ninth was when he met you on a spring morning in 2001. The tenth time was when you agreed to go on a date with him a few days later. And since then, Fred Weasley had lost the count.

But he remembered the most special days.

The day you kissed. The first night you spent together. The lunch his mother prepared at the Burrow so that you could be introduced to the Weasley family. When you finally said "I love you" to each other. That afternoon you agreed to have a picnic, but you didn't check if it would rain and came home soaked. The next morning that Fred woke up sick and you made him some soup. The time you two couldn't sleep then you stayed up all night talking while drinking hot chocolate. When Fred asked you to marry him on the first day of a new year. That summer day in 2004 when you and Fred said "I do" and made a vow to love each other for all eternity. The dinner where you revealed that you were pregnant with your first child together. The day Maeve Weasley was born and your world had changed completely. And since then, Fred Weasley went to sleep every day thinking, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

He was enchanted with every little moment.

Fred was thrilled the moment he hold Maeve for the first time and nested her in his arms; he pressed a delicate kiss on her forehead, feeling that newborn baby smell and watching her sleep peacefully, finally realizing that she was his baby - his baby to care for, to protect, to love; his daughter.

He remembered the first time Maeve opened a toothless smile, that she babbled something in the baby’s language, when she ate solid food when she was six-months-old and ended up with banana puree - made by mommy - all over her face, the way she clapped her hands when she heard Hermione singing muggle’s nursery rhymes, when she took her first steps two weeks after her one-year birthday. Fred was not ashamed to admit that he cried when Maeve first called him "Daddy", that he got emotional every time she lay on his chest and fell asleep there as if it was the most comfortable place in the world, of how he couldn't stop smiling silly while watching her dance "head, shoulders, knees and toes". Since Maeve was born, Fred Weasley thought he couldn't be happier.

But you got pregnant again; and in 2008, Alexander Weasley was born - better known as "lil’ Alex".

And Fred was, once again, in heaven.

Just like happened with Maeve, he was enchanted by his son from the moment he heard that little weeping for the first time; he couldn't help but be amazed to see that the e/c color of your irises were reflected in Alex's eyes, that his nose was very similar to his father's and that he had much more hair than his sister when she was born - and once again, he had fallen in love with that newborn baby smell.

Fred's heart melted completely when he saw the scene of you in bed holding Alex in your arms while Maeve was sitting next to you, her neck stretching so she could see her little brother more closely; he opened a broad smile with that vision, the vision of his family - his to care for, to protect, to love, his family.

That day, Fred sat next to you on the bed, taking Maeve on his lap and placing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body; he remembered the way you looked at him with a tender smile decorating your face and said: "you and I make beautiful babies," but before he could answer, Maeve exclaimed: "but Alex looks like smashed potato!”. Fred used his free hand to tickle his daughter briefly, who let out an angelic laugh and squirmed in his arms, saying: "not the tickle monster, Daddy!", he laughed once again, kissing Maeve's fluffy cheek; his heart seemed to barely fit inside his chest of how much love he felt at that moment. Then, your head rested on his shoulder, Fred turned his head to give you a long kiss on the temple; you, in turn, lifted your face towards your husband, sealing your lips in a very short but passionate kiss - passion for the beautiful family you built together, for the life full of joys that awaited you and without forgetting, of course, the overwhelming passion you still felt for each other.

It wasn't always easy.

Despite the joys that fatherhood brought in your lives, conciliating raising your children with your jobs and the marital relationship was something that sometimes you failed at. Sometimes you fought for silly reasons, other times for more serious issues, but you never forgot that in the first place you loved each other.

The worst fight you and Fred had was when the two of you were facing difficulties at work, and without even noticing it, you started to take your frustrations out on each other; you both spent a whole day not talking - just talking about your children - but in the late afternoon, when you and the redhead were distracted with work matters while Maeve and Alex were playing in the middle of the living room, your daughter shouted cheerfully: "Mom, Dad, look! Alex likes when I dance!", the two of you immediately dropped the papers you were reading and watched the scene before your eyes: Maeve - with 3 years-old - was making extravagant ballet moves and Alex - who had just completed 8 months - was sitting on the fuzzy carpet, applauding his sister with a smile of few teeth decorating his face. At that moment, your eyes met with Fred's, and as if you were having a mental conversation, you two agreed: "No work in this world was more important than this: Maeve dancing ballet while Alex applauded". When the children slept, you had a long talk and made up in the best possible way: in bed.

And you were fine. Better than just fine; you and Fred were happy with the life you built together. And even if some days weren't so good, the redhead would still sleep thinking that he had lived the happiest day of his life because it was one more day by your side while raising your children together, because it was one more day with his family.

Today, Fred felt exhausted; he and George stayed until later at the shop because they needed to make an inventory of their products, and even though they had several employees so they didn't need to overload themselves with work, that task was something they didn't trust anyone else to do but each other.

As soon as he arrived at his home through Floo Network, Fred was surprised that there was nobody in the living room and that no three-years-old girl jumped on his arms saying: "Daddy, Daddy, you're home!", but he heard laughter coming from the upper floor. He took off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the corner, and went upstairs; Fred followed that familiar sound and stopped in front of the bathroom suite you two shared, which was with the door ajar.

For a moment, he allowed himself to watch the scene: inside of a huge white ceramic bathtub, were his wonderful children and sitting on a stool right next to it while holding Alex - who had already completed one year old - with both hands, you were wearing only a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, your hair was in a tight bun on the top of your head; you were laughing while looking at Maeve, who was pretending to be a fish and imitating Dory's line in "Finding Nemo" when was speaking whale - you two really thanked Hermione for all the childish entertainment she introduced to you over the years -; the little girl was talking to Alex - who was supposed to be the whale.

"Ah, so you’re there" Fred said with a broad smile on his face; Maeve exclaimed an excited "daddy", splashing drops of water on all directions when she jumped. "I thought I was abandoned" he joked, walking towards the bathtub, and squatting close to where you were. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, love" you answered, smiling sweetly and leaning slightly towards your husband so you can greet him with a peck on the lips.

Fred also greeted his children, saying tenderly: "Hi, little princess. Hi, little prince"; you two chatted distractedly while watching your children play in the bathtub - Maeve still pretended to be a fish and Alex played with a rubber duck.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Normal" you shrugged. "Nothing new, which is a relief."

"That's good. And how are our little angels?"

"They've had dinner, played a lot and now they're taking a bath to go to bed. Did you have dinner?"

"Yes, I ate something at the shop with George." Fred placed a hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry for staying..."

"Don't apologize" you interrupted him. Your husband had never helped you to take care of the children; he had never helped you because that was his job too - he wasn’t “helping” you; he was taking care of his kids. Fred never expected compliments or medals for putting his children on bed, for giving them food, for waking up in the middle of the night when they were crying or for changing diapers; he knew that those were his responsibilities as much as they were yours. "I know" you sent him a reassuring smile. Days like this when you and Fred didn't do those things together were very rare - after all, you were partners for life.

"Thank you" your husband smiled.

"And what about your day? Could you finish the inventory?" you asked.

He let out a tired sigh, watching Alex chewing on the rubber duck. "Well... yes, but not everything. I still need..."

"Daddy!" Maeve demanded his attention, interrupting him. "Look what I can do!" she said before immersing her head in the water for a short second before pulling it up again, her hair sticking to her cheeks as she wiped the water off her face. "See?" she opened her eyes and looked at her father, waiting for his answer.

The redhead didn't take long to react, quickly applauding enthusiastically. "Wow, princess! You truly are a little fish! Did you see her, Mommy?" he looked at you.

"I did, Daddy!" you smiled. "Our little Maeve already is a big girl!"

Fred got rid of his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and sat on the bathroom floor, standing next to the bathtub as he listened intently to his daughter tell him about her fun day with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur; Maeve said that Uncle Harry and Ginny showed up for a visit, so she played with her cousins all afternoon - she was asleep when you arrived at the Burrow right after work, but Alex was very agitated.

You both took the opportunity that the little girl was very distracted and started to give your children a bath; you were soaping Alex's body while Fred washed Maeve's hair. He took the handheld shower and used it to rinse the shampoo, being careful to not let the foam fall in her eyes or ear. So, you two changed; now, you washed Maeve's body while Fred poured the baby shampoo on Alex's hair. Your husband stayed on his knees, leaning over the bathtub to hold his son firmly with one arm while using the other to give him a bath; the one-year-old was still very focused on chewing the rubber duck.

Fred laughed. "You really like this toy, don't you, big boy?" he said to his son, who looked at his direction with his big e/c eyes. "This lil' duck is tasty, isn't it?" he said in a higher pitch and musical tone. Alex pushed the rubber toy away from his mouth just to laugh at his father, bouncing in his arms. "Yeah, you like it," the redhead smiled. "Maybe you can tell Grandpa Arthur what is the function of these rubber ducks, huh?"

You were washing Maeve's armpits when you heard the sound of your son laughing; you looked at that direction and a broad smile appeared on your face as you watched Fred talking to Alex about his toy. Then, your daughter also laughed.

"Mommy!" she said between laughs. "You're tickling me!"

"I'm sorry, honey," you said with a smile, pulling the little girl close so you could give her a kiss on the cheek.

Minutes later, the children were properly dressed in their pajamas and Fred went to take a bath. And the scene he found when he returned to his room was even more adorable than the one in the bathroom: you were with your back against the headboard and, on each arm, you nested Maeve and Alex while singing them a lullaby as they were drinking hot milk from their bottle.

His daughter was the one who saw him leaning against the door, she demanded that he come to bed with you, and as soon as Fred did, Maeve left her position to lay her head on her father's chest - now you and Fred were lying on the edge of the bed and your children in the middle of you two.

"Daddy, can you tell us a story?" the little girl asked.

"I don't know, honey," he said. "Mommy was singing."

"But the song's over, isn't it, Mommy?" your daughter looked at you.

"Yes, dear" you nodded, opening a little smile.

"Will you, Daddy? Please?" Maeve made a pout. "Alex also wants you to tell us a story," she looked at her little brother, who was almost asleep on his mother's arms. "Yes, Daddy, tell us a story," she said in a soft tone - as if it was the little boy talking - "see? He wants it too!"

You both laughed at your daughter's little trick. "Well, Daddy, it seems they want you to tell us a story," you shrugged, still with a smile on your face.

"How can I deny a request from the three loves of my life, huh?" Fred smiled, squeezing Maeve in his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

You listened carefully as your husband told the story of two fire-haired brothers who fought against a terrible one-eyed monster and managed to obtain a precious magical item: a map that led them to various adventures around the world. And when the two brothers discovered how to get to the Candy Land, you and Fred noticed that your children were already deeply asleep in your arms.

You both shared a look and a smile. A passionate look at the love that existed in your family. A proud smile for the life you had together.

"I love you" your husband whispered at you.

"I love you too" you whispered back.

And before Fred fell asleep, he thought, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

taglist: @eunoia-kth

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #dad!fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #weasley imagine #weasley smut #fanfic #reader-insert #mom!reader

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jerzwriter · 3 years ago

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Tik Tok Tuesday - "Don't Go Breaking My Heart"

@potionsprefect thank you for giving me a little task that will take me away from the angst that is DTI tonight. Here's this week's Tik Tok Tuesday, one for Ethan & Casey is coming up tomorrow, I'm too tired tonight. lol

Objective: MC pretends to break up with their LI by text with a song. What song do they use and what is their LI reaction?

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC (Casey MacTavish) Rating: Teen Summary: See Above Warnings: Cursing, References to sexual situations Words: 959 (plus texts)

Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

“So,” Casey quipped as she joined her friends at their table in Derry’s. “What nonsense do you wish to sign me up for?”

“It’s the latest Tik Tok prank,” Jackie enthused. “You have to do it!”

“OK, why do I have to do it? Can’t you do it yourself?”

“Yeah, well, if I had a significant other, I supposed I could.”

“But since neither of us does,” Sienna added, “You’re our victim… uhm, participant!”

“We’re offering you up as tribute!” Jackie grinned.

“You know I’m not into Tik Tok.”

“Precisely why this would work best for you,” Sienna enthused.

Casey let out a loud sigh. “All right! What is it that you’ll have me do? Dance like a chicken? Go up to the counter here and order a martini?”

“No, it sort of involves T, too,” Jackie advised.

“T?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“I know who T is, Sienna, but what does this have to do with him?

“OK, you have to text him a lyric from a breakup song, word for word, and see what he does.”

“Guys, that’s cruel.”

“No, it’s fun,” Jackie smiled.

“And you wonder why you don’t have a significant other? I’d like to keep mine, thank you very much.”

“Come on, Case!” Sienna pleaded. “It’s just for fun. Plus, Tobias has a great sense of humor. Where is he this morning?"

“He and Bryce went out to play basketball, then they’re grabbing lunch. They’re probably on their way to the court now.”

“Oh, and perfect. Let’s do this!”

Casey took out her phone shaking her head. “I don’t know how I’m letting you talk me into this.”

“Because you love us!” Sienna grinned.

“I may not anymore if this goes poorly! OK, what song do I pick?”

“I say Stay by Rihanna,” Jackie offered.

“Nah, he knows the lyrics. He’d probably call singing.”

“How about Call Out My Name?” Sienna asked.

“By The Weekend? Guys, T and I have sex with The Weekend playing in the background at least three times a week….”

“Too much information!” Jackie said, holding her ears.

“Wait, you only have sex three times a week?” Sienna gasped.

“Oh, God, no! It’s a minimum of three times that… but we don’t have The Weekend playing every time. Sometimes it’s Frank Ocean.”

Jackie shook her head in disgust. “I am never listening to either again!”

“Hey, you want me to do this stupid shit? You have to pay the price! Oh, I know! Carole King… old school... I don’t think he knows that.”

“What song are you going with?”

“It’s Too Late… You’re paying for Derrys, you know, and my mani/pedi later for doing this.”

“Deal!” Sienna squealed.

“What! I didn’t agree to that!”

“You did now, Jackie. Let’s go…. Oh, look, you’re in luck. He was out of the house before I got up this morning, so he texted to see how I was. That’s a good lead-in.”

Jackie slapped Casey’s arm, “You act like you’re not into this.”

“I may not be if my boyfriend turns around and actually breaks up with me because of this.”

“Pfft. Who else will bang him at least nine times a week,” Jackie laughed.

“She has a point,” Sienna shrugged. “Now, do it before you change your mind.”

“That’s it,” Casey sighed in disgust. “He’s going to dump me.”

“Oh, he’s not going to dump you!” Sienna giggled.

“This isn’t even fun,” Casey sulked. “I don’t like upsetting him.”

“WHAT?!”

“Oh, shit…” Jackie gasped.

“I knew I shouldn’t have… I have to call him!”

Casey frantically dialed his number, but it went right to voicemail.

“Guys! I can’t freaking believe this,” she said, getting teary. “Why did I let you talk me into this? UGH! He’s still not answering!”

“I’m calling Bryce,” Sienna said.

“GUYS!!!! I HATE YOU!!! Si, did you get Bryce?”

“No, he’s not answering,” she answered with a furrowed brow.

“Wait,” Jackie said, grabbing Casey’s phone. While looking at the text, she began typing into her phone.

“Jackie!” Casey said, near tears, “Give me that back. This isn’t the time to….”

“He punked you right back,” Jackie said, tossing Casey’s phone back at her. “He texted you the lyrics from You’ll Think of Me by Keith Urban.”

“What!” Casey said, grabbing Jackie’s phone. “That son of a….”

The second after Casey texed “YOU PUNKED ME!”, her phone rang and she answered to hear Tobias howling with laughter.

“Did you know all along?”

“NO! At first, I nearly had a heart attack. Luckily, Lahela’s mother is a Carole King fan, and he is up on all this Tik Tok bullshit.”

“And you know I wouldn’t know of Keith Urban.”

“Well, you should.”

“You listen to Keith Urban?”

“Hey, there is still a lot to learn about me, baby. If you’re sticking around, that is?”

“Of course I am! I love you.”

“I love you too, but….”

“But?”

“You know the little deal we have about practical jokes….”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I’m looking forward to the shit you’re going to have to do tonight, baby. It makes this all worth it.”

“Hmmm. Fine. But deep down, I’ll like it too.”

“I know, but I’ll like it more.”

“I’ll see you later.”

Then she hung up.

“What was that all about?” Sienna asked.

“We know we’re both idiots. So we made a rule to keep ourselves in line. We have a list of “favors” we have to do for each other when we fool the other with a practical joke.”

“Wait, what kind of favors?” Jackie asked.

“Naughty ones, Jackie. Very, very naughty ones. Do you want to know what I have to do tonight now?”

“No! No! Absolutely not!!! And I’m never involving you in anything like this again.”

“Well, I’m grateful for that!”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @anonymousrookie @bex-la-get @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @danijimenezv @darkswagamerpiratecowboyclown @differenttyphoonwerewolf @dorisz @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @parisa-kh @peonierose @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @rosebudde @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @sillydg @spookycolorpeanut @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @trappedinfanfiction @txemrn @writer-ish @youlookappropriate @zahrachoices @kachrisberry @fayeswiftie @choiceskatie

OH Tags: @aishwarya26 @onikalover @peonyblossom @toadfrog26

Tobias Only: @icecoffee90

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart fan fiction #tobias carrick #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #choices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #tik tok tuesday

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chaolie · 3 years ago

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Fundy Fluff Week, Day 3 - Touch

Heyy uh can we pretend that I'm not almost 3 weeks late with this one? Yeah? Thanks. So yeah, here's another contribution to @fundyfiles' event from me! Which you can also find on my Ao3! Isn't that cool? No, it's not been like 18 days since my last contribution shhh- Ah, and for clarity, this takes place in Las Nevadas

Words: 2.5k

Characters: Fundy, Quackity

Fundy carefully hung the sign with "Toll gate" written on it above the small booth before stepping back and nodding to himself. It all looked good, he thought, especially for being made in just a single day. He was sure that digging out the rest of the tunnel wouldn't take more than three days, especially if Slime decided to help them out for at least a bit again. He paused for a moment to wonder... if he offered to, would Quackity let him stay around and continue working through the night? That could be nice, he wouldn't have to go to sleep yet, and... before he could bring that up, he noticed the man taking a step forward and squinting at the sign.

"...Is something wrong?" he asked. Did he misspell anything? Slowly, Quackity shook his head.

"No, no, I think it's fine," he answered, taking another step forward. "I just... can you read what it says?"

"...Just Toll gate," the fox hybrid answered. Quackity nodded in acknowledgment. "...Why?" Fundy asked after a moment of hesitation. The man turned to face him and pointed at the long scar running across his eye. He didn't look upset, but Fundy still cringed slightly when the realization hit him. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay, don't worry. You're probably just tired," the man suggested, and Fundy nodded. It probably ruined his chances of getting to work through the night, but it was most likely true either way. "...I'm surprised you can see anything down here, though. How is this enough light to write?" he asked, motioning to the single block of glowstone they added to the tunnel.

"Well... I'm a fox hybrid, so I don't need too much light," he explained with a shrug. Quackity fell silent for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes.

"Right. Looks like we're both tired," he pointed out, and Fundy absentmindedly nodded again. "Well, we should probably start heading back then."

For a moment, Fundy considered objecting and saying he'd rather stay around and dig for at least a moment, but he quickly gave up on that. He reluctantly followed Quackity to the entrance of the tunnel. He stepped outside, finally feeling the sand under his feet again, took a deep breath of the cool night air, turned around, and... He could barely see any lights in Las Nevadas. The giant sign, the space needle, almost everything was covered by darkness. The only thing still lit up and visible was a part of the casino that was supposedly not finished yet. That seemed... bad. Trying to keep calm, the fox hybrid looked at Quackity just in time to see the man rubbing his temples and swearing quietly.

"Not again," he groaned. Well, that was still... somewhat reassuring? It meant that the man probably knew what was happening.

"What's wrong with the lights?" Fundy asked, and Quackity shook his head.

"Nothing, the redstone they're hooked up to is just... ugh, I thought Sam fixed that," he complained. Fundy breathed a sigh of relief, so it wasn't anything serious...

"Do you want me to take a look at that? Maybe I can help?" he suggested. It was a great excuse to not sleep yet, and it was actually useful!

"Sure," Quackity agreed, not giving his answer a second thought. Instead, he squinted at the ground. "...You don't have any torches, right?"

"...I don't," Fundy confirmed, and the man sighed again.

"I thought the light from the sign would help us get back, but..." he shook his head. "It's fine, walking isn't that hard," he decided and started to head back. Almost immediately, he stumbled over a small stone lying in the sand and fell to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Fundy caught up to him just when the man lifted his head up and spat out some sand, making a repulsed face in the process. Then, he nodded.

"Yeah," he answered, getting back to his feet. Fundy held his hands out to catch him if he was to lose his balance again, but at this point, he wasn't sure if Quackity could even notice that in the darkness. "Yeah, I'm fine," he insisted. Suddenly, an idea formed in the fox hybrid's mind.

"Do you want me to lead you?" he offered without thinking it through. Quackity seemed to hesitate for a moment before sighing quietly. Fundy considered just taking the offer back to save them both the embarrassment, but before he could, he got an answer.

"...Yeah. That sounds helpful," Quackity agreed, brushing the sand off his shirt before blindly trying to reach out to Fundy. After breaking through the surprise, the fox hybrid carefully took his hand.

"Alright, let's go," he said, gently trying to lead him up the hill, steering him away from rougher terrain and providing as much balance as he could.

He... wasn't sure if he was holding his hand right. He probably was, Quackity wasn't complaining and he had no idea if there even was a way to hold someone's hand "wrong", but he could never be entirely sure. He rarely held hands with people, Yogurt disliked that kind of affection and before adopting him, Fundy spent months on his own. Not to mention, even before that he didn't have many opportunities to "practice". After they finally made it up the hill and were almost by the road, the fox hybrid decided that there would be no harm in asking. If he was doing something wrong, maybe he could at least fix it during this last stretch?

"Hey, uh, Quackity?" he started, glancing back at the man he was leading. Quackity looked vaguely in his direction and seemed curious. "I'm not holding your hand wrong or anything, right?" he asked.

"...What?" Quackity responded, and his curiosity seemed to be replaced by pure confusion. He chuckled quietly. "What does that even mean?" he asked, and Fundy shrugged. That was a good question.

"...I don't know, it's just... I didn't hold anyone's hand in ages, so I... want to make sure I'm not doing it wrong?" he explained hesitantly, and the man slowly nodded along.

"Alright," he said, and to Fundy's great relief, he didn't sound judgemental. "You're doing it fine, don't worry about that," he added, making Fundy relax even more. Then, a somewhat dreaded question came. "How long has it been?" Quackity asked.

"Oh, uh, well..." the fox hybrid hesitated, nervously tensing his shoulders. "A couple of months. Maybe a year. I don't know," he shrugged the question off. The man he was leading hummed quietly.

"Oh wow," he answered, and sounded almost-sad. "Do you need a hug?" he... teased? That had to be it, Fundy decided. A joke to lighten the mood, not an... offer, or anything.

"Probably," he laughed quietly, and after just a moment, the man's laughter joined him.

For some reason, he still half-expected Quackity to pull him into an embrace, or at least offer to. That didn't happen, of course, and it shouldn't have been all that surprising. The man was technically Fundy's... boss? President? No matter which title fitted better, they both meant the same in regards to giving out hugs just because he hinted that it's been a long time since he last got one. That's why he quickly accepted that he would get nothing... well, except for an opportunity to work with some redstone the moment they make it further into Las Nevadas. That was something almost as good, he liked redstone and it would make him feel more useful! It also couldn't make him all choked up and touched while a hug surely would, that was an upside for sure... By the time they reached the fountain in front of the casino, he almost convinced himself. He led Quackity just a bit further, until he was sure that the light coming from the building let the man see most of their surroundings. Then he stopped and waited... the man was yet to let go of his hand.

"So... where's the redstone?" he asked after a moment of silence. Maybe Quackity just needed a moment to orient himself before leading him there?

"Well... We're standing over it. It's a big circuit connecting all the buildings... that's probably why it keeps breaking," the man explained, and Fundy nodded.

"Yeah... Maybe we could separate them? We can make a room where they almost-connect if something needs to be turned off... then even if something breaks, it won't affect everything!" he thought out loud, and the more he considered the idea, the better it seemed. Were there even any flaws to that plan? Quackity hummed quietly and didn't interrupt until he was sure the fox hybrid was done.

"That sounds great," he nodded in approval. Almost immediately, Fundy felt a rush of energy and motivation, it sounded great and he was not going to rest until he was done! Sure, he didn't even look at the redstone yet, it would probably be a tedious job, but he truly couldn't care less- "But how about we take care of that in the morning?" Quackity continued, and Fundy's excitement almost instantly vanished.

"What? Why?" he asked. The lights were broken now, so he should fix them now, right?

"It's very late," Quackity answered with a light shrug. "It's dark, we're both tired, and no one will notice the broken redstone until tomorrow evening. So I think we should just go to sleep and take care of that later," he explained further. Fundy did not like that idea, but he wasn't sure if arguing would be... wise. The man still seemed to notice his hesitation. "Look, you agreed you were tired when we were leaving the tunnel. Why not get some sleep, then?" he asked. Fundy answered almost instantly, long before he could think his words through.

"What if I don't want to sleep?" he answered, and despite his greatest efforts to sound casual about this, he was certain there was still a hint of desperation in his voice. Desperation Quackity clearly picked up on. The man sighed and fell silent for a moment. "It's just... I..." he tried to think of an excuse. "I... Don't have a bed...?" he said finally, and the man in front of him sighed again, more heavily this time.

"Okay, forget fixing the redstone in the morning. I'm clearing both of our schedules until noon at least, okay? Now follow me," he said and started to confidently walk into the darkness again. For a brief second, Fundy considered sneaking away while the man's back was turned, but he quickly realized they were both too tired for something like that. Reluctantly, he tried to follow.

"Where are we going?" he asked when he caught up to the man. At this point, they must've been too far from the light to let Quackity see much, but the man didn't stop.

"The hotel," he answered with a shrug. "It's not finished yet, but at least one bedroom should be usable. We can get you your own bed in the morning," he explained, and Fundy couldn't help but cringe slightly.

"What if I don't want a bed?" he answered with a question. "Any bed. Even the one from the hotel."

"The couches by the entrance are alright too," Quackity responded. They were close enough to the building to let Fundy see those through the window, and they sure looked comfortable... he still didn't think he should use them to rest, though. Before he could actually think all that through, he noticed that Quackity wasn't slowing down and managed to grab his shoulder just before he'd hit the glass.

"You're walking into a window," he informed when the man looked back in his general direction with a confused frown on his face. Still looking a bit lost, Quackity reached forward and quickly felt the glass' cold surface.

"Right," he awkwardly pulled his hand back. "Can you... help me to the door, then?"

"Sure," Fundy nodded, letting go of his shoulder and grabbing his hand again. He still hoped he wasn't doing that wrong somehow. He helped Quackity to the door and led him inside without any issues. Once Quackity realized they were walking on the floor rather than the street, he stopped.

"Perfect. Now, to the nearest couch?" he requested, and Fundy took a look around. He wasn't getting out of this one, was he?

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, starting to walk towards one of the couches. When they reached it, Quackity used his free hand to feel around for it before sitting down and patting the spot next to him. After a second of hesitation, Fundy sat down. "Okay, what now?"

"Now we can rest," Quackity answered. Just before the fox hybrid could say that he didn't want to sleep again, the man spoke again. "You don't have to sleep, but at least relax. Maybe close your eyes for a moment? I'll sit here with you, okay?" he explained, and his voice sounded... nicer, Fundy noticed. Or his tiredness was just really getting to him.

"Okay," he nodded. He didn't have to sleep, just take a little break from doing anything else. Relax, enjoy his comfortable seat, and... and...

Soon enough, his eyes started to close on their own. He almost forgot how nice it was to keep them shut for longer than just a blink, and now they felt far too heavy to open again. He wasn't falling asleep, he tried to convince himself before yawning. He was just resting his eyes, it was nothing like sleeping. His head started to feel heavy too, tilting to the side no matter how much he tried to hold it up... Man, he really was tired. Slowly, he lost the strength and motivation to keep himself up, letting his body drop to the left so he could lie down- the next thing he knew, his head was resting on Quackity's shoulder. He froze for a moment, should he sit back up? Or would that make the situation even more awkward? Should he just pretend to be dead?

Quackity let go of his hand, reminding him that he still didn't let go since entering the building. How long has it been since then? A minute? An hour? He couldn't tell with how hazy the tiredness made his brain. For a moment, he thought this was his cue to sit up and apologize only for the man to slowly put his hand over his shoulders instead. That must've been the closest thing to a hug he's received in ages. Did Quackity know he was still awake? If he did, he didn't say anything about the situation, and Fundy decided to keep the silence. He was sure he wouldn't be awake for long anyway. He could feel his consciousness slipping away and he didn't want to fight it anymore. In a minute or so, he was certain he would be asleep... and for the first time in months, that thought didn't scare him. He wasn't alone, and he was sure that if anything happened, Quackity would be kind enough to wake him up.

The man was right, he thought right before he finally fell asleep. The repairs could wait, and they both deserved some rest before taking care of them.

#fundyfluffweek2022 #fundy #quackity #c!fundy #c!quackity #dream smp #mcyt #I seriously feel kinda bad for taking this long tho. Like I know it's probably fina and no one cared but still.Man. It's finally here tho!!

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cocosstories · 3 years ago

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Tom Holland One Shot

Going to your secondary school reunion with your husband Tom Holland, two kids and baby number 3 in the oven

"Love, have you seen my blue silk tie?"

You were in your three year old daughters bedroom getting her dressed for your ten year reunion when your husband Tom called out.

"I think Y/S/N had it."

You replied, remembering seeing your five year old son walking around with the tie on earlier.

"Mama, do I look pretty?"

Y/D/N asks once you put on her shoes.

"You look absolutely beautiful, princess."

You tell her, kissing her little cheek before trying to pull yourself back up to your feet.

"Here darling, let me help you."

Tom walks in and sees you struggling to get up.

You were currently nearly nine months pregnant with your third baby and moving was not an easy thing in your current state.

"Thank you."

You smile rubbing your belly once you are back on your feet.

"Did you find your tie?"

Tom nods showing you as he puts it on.

"Is Y/S/N ready?"

You ask, knowing you were already running late to the event.

"Nearly. He is getting his shoes on now."

You nod, grabbing your daughters hand and taking her downstairs, Tom following behind.

"Do we really have to go?"

You groan, looking at yourself in the mirror again, really wishing you were back in your sweats and watching TV in bed.

"Yes, we have to go but I promise if it gets to be too much, I will pinch you and you can fake labor pains. No one would try to stop us from leaving if they think the baby is coming."

You shake your head at your husband's joke, laughing as your son and daughter walk up.

Nearly half an hour later, you, Tom and your children make you way into the reunion, your kids running off towards a group of other children who were gathered in one corner of the room playing.

"Y/N? Hi!"

You look up at the sound of your name to find one of your old school friends making her way over to you.

"Hi! How are you?"

You ask her after she hugs you.

"I'm great. This is my husband."

She introduces you to the man who walked up with her.

"This is my husband, Tom and our kids are somewhere over there."

You laugh, pointing to the sea of children on the other side of the room.

"Well, you look great. When are you due?"

She says, placing a hand on your rounded belly.

"Four weeks actually."

You reply a bit uncomfortable with the intrusion to your person space.

"Darling, is that Y/D/N I hear?"

Tom cuts into the conversation, coming to your rescue right on time.

"You know what? I think it is. I'm sorry, I can hear my daughter crying."

You give a quick explanation and walk off towards your children.

"Thank you."

You say as Tom finds an empty table and the two of you sit down.

A couple of hours and about a million people touching your belly later, you and Tom have gotten in a rythm, dealing with your former classmates.

Once you give him the signal, he swoops in with a reason to pull you away.

You take him around, showing him all the different memory boards that had been set up around for everyone to reminisce the past.

"How are you feeling my love?"

Tom asks, after he had shooed off the last people.

"Tired, fat and cranky."

You say, giving him a small smile.

"You want to go home?"

Nodding eagerly, Tom leaves you at the table to grab the children.

"Mama, are we going home?"

Y/D/N asks when she walks up with her father.

"Oh no! You aren't leaving are you?"

Before you can answer your daughter, another old friend walks up.

"Yeah, the kids are tired and my back is killing me."

You reply hoping they will take the excuse and not fight you.

"You can't leave yet! We haven't even done the speeches."

You sigh and look at Tom for help.

"Ouch!"

A sudden pain hits you as your son sneaks behind you and pinches your side.

"Mama are you ok?"

He asks, looking adorably innocent.

"Is it the baby darling?"

Tom asks, catching on to what your sons plan had been.

"I think it may be. I'm sorry but we really have to go."

Your classmate nods and the four of you make your way back to the car.

"Y/S/N, how did you come up with that idea?"

You ask him once you were all in the car, headed home.

"Daddy told you earlier that if you needed a quick get away he would pinch you so you could pretend the baby was coming."

You and Tom look at each other and burst out laughing.

"Yup, he is definitely your son!"

You say as Tom takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

"Is that such a bad thing, love?"

He asks with a chuckle.

"Not at all. I love that he is a mini version of you."

You admit.

As Tom pulls onto your street, you smile to yourself, thinking it was fun to go back in time for a night but happy to finally be back in the present with your husband, two kids and soon to be new baby.

#Dad! Tom Holland #Tom Holland One Shot #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland #Cocos stories

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dreamingmanip · 4 years ago

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"MADNESS LOVE"

*GIF NOT MINE*

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 1,860

A/N: Okay, this time I didn’t use any prompt from my board on Pinterest. I came with the idea last night (thanks insomnia), and I thought I could make it in 2 parts. Let me know what do you think in my ask, is always open for you. If you want t, like it and reblog it. Thank you very much!

A/N 2: I’m gonna pin this imagine so you can easily find it on my page, I will do the same when posting part 2. :)

A/N 3: This awesome gif is from Pinterest but, it comes from Wattpad. Her account is Ariana-Fic and you can find it in her fic “Soldiers in Intelligence”.

Being a cop wasn't easy, putting your life in danger to protect and serve others sometimes wasn't successful. It was 50/50, every morning you will be walking out home not knowing if you could come back.

It had been three weeks without a person in the unit. Detective Jay Halstead had been wounded in a crossfire in a covert operation; when one of you got hurt everyone took responsibility even if it wasn't that way, only for some it was harder to try not to blame yourself for what happened. You had blamed Hailey for not covering Jay enough even though you knew it wasn't her fault, you even avoided her a few days after that.

She was her partner way long before you were assigned to Intelligence by Sergeant Voight.

Narcotics helped Intelligence in a case; it was your case but somehow their case intertwined with yours at some point, both departments agreed to work to stop the overdoses in the area. You were the best at CO, so it made sense for Sergeant Voight to pick Jay, one of his best undercovers for a purchase. Your skills didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the Intelligence Unit, even for someone with experience like Jay. After the case was over he offered you a spot in his Unit, you doubt it for a moment, you were good in Narcotics, good pay, accumulated vacation days, Voight wasn't known for being a patient person and some co-workers encouraged you to take that step by commenting on how crazy you must be not to accept such an offer.

You were well received by all, perhaps except for Sergeant Trudy Platt, who didn't like strangers or new people in the district. Jay was among the first to congratulate you when you arrived, for a moment you thought you'd be partners but Voight wouldn't break his dream team, so he paired you with Kevin Atwater, whom you've been entrusting your life and darkest secrets to ever since.

Atwater was the first one you told about the nights you stayed late with Jay in Molly's, he was the first to know how those late nights became visiting his apartment, to end up arriving together one morning, to the district. He had told you about Voight's rules and how he was firm with them after Jay's last relationship had gone bad with his partner and that had affected his way of working a bit.

Jay and you decided to go slowly, the only one who would know about you two would be Kevin, it was agreed at least, but Hailey Upton was very good at her job so she soon realized what was happening between you. She had supported you, although she did not agree to hide this from her sergeant, she wanted to see her partner happy.

They were all at their desks, doing paperwork on a case they had closed the day before, when Trudy appeared on the stairs.

"Guess who came back from her mandatory break."

You looked up from the papers in front of you to look at a smiling Jay Halstead, who was looking at Trudy with a raised eyebrow.

"Nice to see you too, Trudy."

"Yeah, now try to get away from the bullets for a while, I don't want to have to worry about any of you for a long time."

Kevin and Adam were the first to approach him, joking and patting him on the shoulder. Kim and Hailey were next, giving him a loving hug before heading back to his places. You had stood up to lean against your desk, your arms crossed over your chest, Jay leaned closer, although he kept some distance, the mocking smile still on his lips. You were the first to speak.

"I see you survived, Halstead."

"Hey, don't say it like that, I'm going to think you're not happy to see me alive."

You pressed your lips together so as not to smile because of his comment, it was the game that both played in front of everyone else, the sarcastic comments to pretend that they were not getting along as well as they should. You nodded and looked at him.

"It's good to have you back."

Jay's smile widened and he put his hands on his hips.

"Look at that, you're happy to have me here."

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair when Voight left his office, leaning against the doorframe.

"How are you Jay?"

Jay nodded his head looking at his boss.

"Good, Sarge."

"Good, because I just hung up with the Superintendent and he wants to acknowledge what you did. Tomorrow there will be a public event, downtown."

You all clapped for a moment, before Voight continued speaking.

"Now try not to die until tomorrow."

Without saying more he returned to his office. Jay went to his desk to catch up on all the overdue paperwork, from time to time you looked up to observe him, you were glad to have him back but the moment you knew about the award, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth. Why were they going to decorate him when he almost died?

You stood up and went to the coffee room, took one of the cups on the wall and poured yourself some, you still felt that bitter taste in your mouth. You heard footsteps behind you and looked over your shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Jay asked, taking another cup, reaching for the pot and pouring himself some coffee as well. You leaned a little to look towards the door, checking that no one was around to hear you. You started to get tired of that, checking over your shoulders to see if no one could hear your conversations or whatever you were doing behind closed doors.

“Uhm, yes, I’m just a little tired. We have been in some paperwork duties from a few cases from the past weeks.”

You took a sip from the cup, making a little grin at the taste of the coffee.

“Well, just for the record, I know when something’s bothering you. We have been together almost a year.”

He looked satisfied with himself, and you couldn’t deny it because he was right, Jay knew you so well almost since day one. You looked at him and gave him a little smile, his mood was good after dealing with a grumpy man at his house because he couldn’t get back to work after being shot, and you definitely didn't want to be the one to screw it up.

Kim walks into the room without realizing the interruption she just made or how you take a little more distance between you two, starts a little chat with Jay and you decide to go back to your desk.

Later, in the locker room, you were finishing picking up some things from your little blue locker, putting them in the gym bag you were carrying that day when Kevin appeared next to you, opening his own locker.

"I don't see you so happy today, you were quiet for most of the day, man you didn't even laugh at Ruzek's nonsense. I thought having Jay back would make you feel better."

You sighed and took a seat on the bench, rubbing your hands over your face before looking at your best friend. You played with your lower lip a bit before speaking.

"Kevin, am I crazy for wanting more in this relationship? I mean, we've worked well without anyone knowing, what difference would it make if we did from the knowledge of Voight, of our friends?"

They both fell silent when an officer entered the room and moments later he left the room, you clenched your fist and struck the cold metal in front of you, you felt frustrated and helpless. Kevin sat next to you, rubbing his hands together as he took his time answering you.

"Y/N, you are a pretty strong woman who knows what she wants, don't let anyone make you feel like you can't, not even some of my friends. If you want, I can talk to him, you know man to man" .

His comment made you laugh a little, releasing a bit of the tension in your chest, you bumped his shoulder with yours, pushing him a little.

"Thanks Kev. I don't think that talk is necessary but I will take it into account for future problems."

"Whenever you need me, girl."

You took your bag, Kevin had helped you lift your spirits but you knew you had to do something with your feelings, for better or for worse.

Jay was in the kitchen when he heard you arrive, a smile formed on his face as he came out to greet you, an ice cold beer in his hand and a hockey game in the background on television. He walked over to you to kiss your forehead, took your bag and set it aside by the door.

"It took you a little longer than usual to get here, I'm sorry I didn't wait for you. Trudy wanted me to fill out some forms for tomorrow and I left earlier."

You couldn't look at Jay without stopping to think about the consequences that your words would have, you knew about his past and you didn't want to be the evil witch who would ruin what you both had until that day. You settled next to him, resting your head on his chest while he watched the game and he made imaginary shapes on the skin of your arm.

It took you a few minutes before you could form a sentence, your voice lacking the strength you had gathered all the way to his apartment.

"Jay, what if we tell Voight we're together?"

Your voice caught his attention, looking at you completely confused.

"Y/N, we both know that we can't say anything at the moment if we want to continue working in the same unit."

You slowly sat up again, turning a little so you could face him, Jay was sure of what he was saying, it showed in his face and in the confidence with which he had spoken.

"Jay, I'm tired of having to hide from everyone, like what we're doing is wrong. Voight will understand if-"

"I've been through this before Y/N, I know what I'm talking about. I also refused to hide my thing with Erin, but things changed. If we tell this to Voight he will remove someone from the team and we know it will not be me."

You felt the air come out of your lungs, as if someone had hit you, Jay realized his mistake when you stood up, he began to move his head trying to speak, he left the beer on the coffee table trying to take your hand .

"Y/N, it's not what- it's not what I meant ..."

Unaware of your movements, you started to take your things in a frenzy, Jay seemed to be talking to you but you couldn't identify his words or what he was trying to tell you, you just left.

To be continued...

#Jay Halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x you #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #hailey upton #kevin atwater #hank voight #adam ruzek #kim burgess #molly's bar

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platykool · 2 years ago

Note

Hii Clus! For the space asks: planets, jupiter, bootes? ^^

Hi Goose ! I'm sorry to answer these so late !! I hope you're having a great day / night ! <3

Planets : If you could go anywhere, where would you go?

I would like to go to a place like in the ghibli movies haha, with beautiful green hills, and have a nice little yellow house there where I could spend time with my loved ones and everything would be very, very peaceful I think I'd really like to go to a place like that but it's pretty mundane so maybe going to an abandoned castle without being afraid ? Well you know what, just going to a ancient castle and being able to visit it ! I think it would be super cool

Jupiter : If you had to pick one color to use for an entire week, what color would you choose?

Yellow !! Or maybe orange, but let’s pretend here that I can use different variation of the color, so orange it is :) It could be an interesting color to use during a whole week, Firstly because I could wear super colorful clothes and I would love that ! Well it would make everything more colorful and and it would feel good

Bootes : If you could have any animal, wild or not, fake or not, which would you want?

To be completely honest, my very first thought when I saw this question was “DRAGON” kjskjhf my inner child is expressing herslef, and I can’t seem to be able to think of another animal, so a dragon it is. But this is the kind of question where I can’t answer when asked, and I’ll wake up three days later thinking “why didn’t I think of that ?’

Anyway thanks for asking ! <3<3

#asks #goose #I really liked those questions !#they're super fun

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larkace · 4 years ago

Text

Robber Claws

hi guys! i've read a bunch of your fics and got inspired so i wrote a thing! enjoy ;) also, it's pretty long so...buckle up! love yall <3

The criminals lurk in the mist, invisible, but Sofiya Pavlichenkov knows they’re there.

She’s perched in the Lookout’s nest of her Warship in Fourth Harbour, pretending to read the documents her first mate, Kastor, has just handed to her. But her blue coat is flapping in the wind and her papers keep jostling and she’s being watched, all of which is rather uncomfortable.

Idly, Sofiya wonders what the criminals might want. A smuggling, perhaps? Out and away from stinking, crawling, loathsome Ketterdam?

Sofiya hates this city. His city. She misses Ravka, her homeland- the Little Palace.

I miss my bloody Kefta, Sofiya thinks darkly as another bought of wind spirals harshly through the Harbour. The blue coat she wears is a subtle nod to her Tidemaker status, but it’s a sad, thin piece of cloth compared to the grandeur of the Fabrikator-made Keftas. But Sofiya can’t wear her Kefta, not if she wants to blend in in Kerch- a lesson she learned long ago…

Old enemies, Sofiya. Old enemies, but not withered grudges.

Huffing out a sigh that would make Zoya Nazyalensky proud, Sofiya rises gracefully to her feet.

They’re coming. She can feel it; they’re making their way towards the ship. They don’t have to be rowdy to intimidate, that’s for sure - or to make a crowd of Merchants and Thieves part like the sea almost immediately.

Sofiya reaches up behind her head and loops her hand around a piece of knotted rope; takes a deep, steadying breath.

And she steps off the platform into the open air.

For a moment, she catches on the air as if a Squaller has caught her on a buffering breeze, but sure enough, gravity kicks in.

Sofiya welcomes the feeling of her stomach in her throat as the fall takes hold, zipping her past the sails. It's good preparation, anyway, for the three dark figures moving up the docks towards her.

As they near and Sofiya lands lightly on the deck, she confirms what she already knew: these were criminals. Her criminals.

The trio stops in front of her. They're all wearing black and gold - not a uniform exactly, but it’s a solid way to show your allegiance. None of their hands were visible, but if they were, Sofiya would find the Robber Claws emblem branded cleanly onto the backs of their knuckles. Their hoods are drawn up over their faces, but Sofiya can tell from their posture who she’s dealing with.

"Ah, Iseut," Sofiya says serenely, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The girl in the middle pulls down her hood, revealing shining blond hair, dark eyes, full lips. She doesn’t smile.

"Where have you been, Sofiya?" Iseut asks coolly.

"The Wandering Isle," Sofiya answers immediately, "I stopped at Os Kervo on my return to pick up some supplies. I'm only three days late, Is. Cut me some slack."

Iseut sighs, and suddenly looks less the badass, fake-waitress man-killer, and more the tired mother of a delinquent child. Sofiya feels a flicker of guilt.

She had stopped at Os Kervo for more than one reason. The "supplies" were crates upon crates of commandeered Fjerdan weapons and traps, intercepted by the First Army on their way to the Front Line. Sofiya had paid nothing to take them off the hands of the Ravkan soldiers, who honestly had no clue where to send them. What good were jerky Fjerdan guns to a sophisticated, well-oiled Second Army legion?

Sofiya could picture Zoya's face at the sight of the sad little weapons. Disgust and disdain, unshakable beauty - and perhaps just a little bit of pride that her friend had been the one to collect the Fjerdan cargo. Sofiya would work on selling it all later. She'd dump the Grisha traps in the ocean, though. Drown them like they deserved to be drowned.

"I am sorry, Iseut," Sofiya says, and her words aren’t mistruths.

"Don't apologise to me," Iseut says dismissively, "It’s your friends that were barely able to sleep the past few nights. You should talk to -"

"Destry," Sofiya's words mist the air like a fine rain, "I know."

One of the tall figures stood behind Iseut lowers her own hood. Lyra. Ly.

It made sense that the Robber Claws would send their best Bruisers to Fourth Harbour. Sofiya knew by the other Robber's posture that beneath the hood, she would find the face of Winter. But Winter wouldn't lower her hood in front of so many people, so Sofiya was content with what she could get.

"You really had Destry worried, Sof," Ly says, chastising.

"Destry can handle me being gone for weeks on end," Sofiya crosses her arms. She will not be guilt-tripped, "This job was half a week, and I was only a few days off schedule. I did tell Cherry that I'd be late." The words come out as a question.

None of them say anything.

Another flash of worry courses through Sofiya. Cherry Vlasova is a Heartrender, and one of Sofiya's closest friends. The message that Sofiya had forwarded was simple and concise: I'll be a few days late. Stopping at Os Kervo. Don't worry, no Fjerdans. Tell Destry -S.P

Had something happened to Cherry? She was an avid gossiper; her post box was always full of tip-offs (a useful source of information for the Robber Claws) but Sofiya was reliably informed that her letters were always placed on the top of the pile. Marked "URGENT."

"What happened? Is Cherry alright?" Sofiya demands.

Iseut holds up her palms, and they are callused and grease-marked. Sometimes Iseut is so well put together that Sofiya forgets she's a barmaid.

"Cherry is fine. But all our Grisha are shaken. Whilst you were away, there was an attack on the East Stave."

Sofiya's heart stops and restarts and stops again.

An attack. On the Grisha. And she wasn’t there to - to help, to defend-

"Destry," Sofiya breathes, "And Cherry - and Adali, Roza, Linnea, Yan, Anya- oh, Saints, was it the Fjerdans?"

There are many Grisha members of the Robber Claws. It was one of the reasons that Sofiya wanted to join them in the first place. If the Fjerdans had attacked -

"Everybody is fine," Ly says lowly, "We had Freya and May fixing people up as soon as we heard- and Lita, of course, but behind the scenes."

Freya and May- and even Lita, whose powers most of the gang didn't even know of. Grisha Healers. So people had been hurt.

"What. Happened." Sofiya growls, and Ly glares at her challengingly, fists clenching. The water beneath the decking froths and bubbles as Sofiya brings her own fists together, power surging pleasantly up her arms. If Ly wants a fight, she can have one.

"Calm down, both of you," Winter's smooth voice projects from under her hood. Despite the heavy fabric, her voice is clear and commanding. Sofiya takes a breath to compose herself.

"To answer your previous question: no. It wasn't the Fjerdans." Iseut says, "We don’t know what they were."

Sofiya's brow creases at the chime of fear in Iseut's voice. She's never seen the golden-haired barmaid afraid before.

It begins to rain softly, the pattering of droplets quiet against the wooden decking of the docks.

"We should go back to the Queen’s Head, Iseut," Ly suggests, referencing Iseut’s place of work. Iseut nods once, swiftly, and glances over Sofiya's shoulder at her warship.

"Do you need to...?"

"Yes."

"Go on, then."

"KASTOR! IM GOING FOR A ROUND OF DAY-DRINKING!" Sofiya yells over the shoulder of her rain-splattered coat. She hears Ly chuckle as Kastor's scruffy head pokes out from a window.

He nods at Sofiya when he spots her, and she waves, assenting. Kastor would keep everything safe whilst she was gone. It was their unspoken agreement, unchanging and unwavering since the day they'd become crewmates.

Sofiya turns back to Iseut, Ly and Winter.

"Let's be on our way," she says, and lets her fellow criminals lead the way along the Harbour, her warship disappearing into the mist behind her.

~~~~

The mid-day slump of customers meant that the Robber Claws had the Queen’s Head pub all to themselves.

Iseut- who did not own the pub, but had put more work into it than the real owners ever did- had immediately trekked behind the bar and poured herself a whisky.

"Want anything?" She asks, directing the question directly at Sofiya despite the equal presence of Ly- and Winter (who had lowered her hood slightly now that she was back on familiar ground, with familiar faces.) Bruisers didn’t drink on the job. It slowed reflexes.

"The story," says Sofiya firmly, "It a joke about the day-drinking. What happened?"

Iseut pours herself another whiskey and the quartet take a seat at a shady little circular table in a quiet corner. The murmurs of other Robber Claws members is enough to shelter their conversation from the group- despite Sofiya being sure she was the only one unaware of what had transpired the days she’d been gone.

As Iseut begins her story, with Winter and Ly regularly interjecting with additions, Sofiya feels horror and fear clamp down on her heart like a Fjerdan Grisha trap.

Iseut’s alluring voice weaves a tale of Komedie Brute actors in bloody masks, rose-painted rubble from an impossible explosion, and worst of all: Grisha. Dead Grisha, killed by creatures with screeching metal wings.

“Only a few of our Grisha were hurt,” Iseut sips her drink solemnly, “We took your advice of keeping them anonymous and undercover. We have Erin and our other spies out searching for answers at the embassies. I’m sure you’re just as eager to find out about the winged creatures as we are.”

Sofiya nods, “I am. Thank you for filling me in, Is, really. And to you, Ly, Winter. I know you don’t like going to far from the West Stave.”

The last comment was directed purely at Winter. It’s not a lie. Winter runs a dojo for training Kerch’s women to protect themselves from Barrel bosses and scum alike; she didn’t want her clients finding out about her… Robber side. Being a criminal wasn’t the most unintimidating, friendly persona to have when speaking with vulnerable women.

Sofiya respected Winter and her clean profession. It was hard to be so kind in the Barrel. And men were rarely kind to women at all.

Sofiya knew that first hand.

Shoving away the memories- blue eyes, dark hair, gorgeous smile, charming words and sharper wounds- Sofiya stands in one fluid movement.

“I’m going to find Destry,” she says. Iseut stands, Ly and Winter falling back to flank her again, and smiles. She’s beautiful, that is undoubtful, but the attacks- the sleazy men at the Queen’s Head, the strain of the city- it’s all gotten to her. Sofiya can see it.

This city is poison, thinks Sofiya as Iseut takes her hand and shakes it. Poison and rot.

“Destry will be in her rooms,” Ly supplies, and Sofiya nods at her once.

Sofiya grins brightly, hoping it covers her own weariness, and recites, “Fair winds.”

“Bright stars,” chorus her friends. Sofiya waves over her shoulder as she slips out of the bar and down an alley. Above her, a storm brews in the clouds.

Perhaps the stars would be out that night. It didn’t matter. Nobody in Kerch saw the stars anymore.

~~~~

On her way to Destry’s apartments, Sofiya ran into more members of the Robber Claws.

Malcolm and Firefly, who lived together in shared housing in the Anvil, were shopping for new blacksmiths’ equipment. They each provided invaluable services to the Robber Claws, crafting flawless weapons second only to that of Fabrikators. They greeted her with a wink each. Sofiya moved on swiftly after trading them a Wandering Isle-crafted staff for twenty Kruge.

She picked up some baked goods on the way. She would need them. Destry- who had been her closest friend since she arrived in Kerch- was an Inferni. Fire-bringer; with an even fierier temperament. Rumour had it- and Sofiya knew the rumours were true- that Destry had been attending the University of Ketterdam when she’d heard a boy make a lude comment during an exam and lit the paper on fire with her mind. And that paper had been thrown. At the boy’s face. Ouch.

Sofiya had been nursing a whiskey in a tavern when she’d first heard the story recounted. She’d leapt up from her seat, slithered into an alley and held the recounter at knifepoint until he’d told her Destry’s name.

They’d become fast friends upon meeting. Sofiya had been in awe of someone so rebellious, so brave as to set fire to an exam paper, and Destry- well. Destry had laughed for hours when Sofiya had told her how she’d first come across her name.

But now, staring up at the ornate windows of Destry’s apartment, Sofiya feels unsure. She didn’t mean to worry her friend. Iseut had explained that her letter must have gotten lost during the riots. Sofiya cursed the post offices. So there was a deadly storm- your motto is still “We always deliver.”

Despite her trepidation, Sofiya’s feet were swift on the stairs. She had a key to the apartment, and didn’t hesitate to unlock the door and slip inside without a sound, content to watch Destry whilst she worked; even if only for a moment.

Leaning against the wall, Sofiya’s brow creases as she surveys her friend. Destry’s hair is plaited carefully into two loops at the nape of her neck, hazel strands freeing themselves gently against her light brown skin. She’s stood facing away from Sofiya, arms circled in rings of fire. The shirt she wears is Fabrikator-made; the flames don’t take to the papery material.

Sofiya takes a step forward, and pointedly drops her bag of confectionary on the floor. It lands with an audible thump.

Destry whirls, the fire at her wrists whirling into an inferno ready to strike- until Destry sees who is at her door.

“Shouldn’t have hesitated, Des,” Sofiya said weakly, “I could have put a knife in your back.”

The shock on Destry’s face dissolves. Her face splinters down the middle. Licks of fire at her fingertips wilt into ash in a pile at her boot-clad feet.

“You would have put out the flames with your water, I’m sure,” Destry says, and then flies across the room towards Sofiya, wrapping her in a tight, smoke-smelling embrace.

Sofiya would normally pull back. “Don’t be too open with your heart, Des,” she’d say, “People use your loves against you here.” But Sofiya couldn’t bring herself to say those things. The weight of the week comes crashing down on her head like a tsunami.

Fjerdan traps on my boat, attacks on my gang, tensions in Ravka boiling over… where’s safe anymore, except here?

Destry pulls back slightly to scan Sofiya’s face. She has a smear of oil on her cheek. Destry’s eyes are filled with fire, burning like an ember beneath onyx waters.

“Where. Have. You. Been.”

“Destry-”

“Don’t you make excuses with me, Pavlichenkov,” Destry snarls, “You didn’t warn us you were late! I couldn’t sleep- neither could Cherry!”

“I-”

“We thought you’d been caught, Sofi,” Destry cries, “We thought the Fjerdans had got you! I thought you died.”

The word is ugly and big in the room, choking Sofiya’s response. Death. Dying. Dead. And by Fjerdan hands. It wasn’t so rare for travelling Grisha to be caught and sent to the pyres.

“I’m sorry,” Sofiya says, because it’s the only thing there is, “I wrote- I really did, don’t look at me like that- according to Lyra, there was a storm in the True Sea. The letter sunk with the ship.”

“You’re a Tidemaker,” Destry huffs.

“Yes, which means I manipulate water,” Sofiya says, “Not stop it from overturning ships with important letters on them. Destry, I’m sorry. I brought waffles.” She offers the last sentence like a defendant on trial with the Stadwatch; one final piece of evidence to prove her innocence.

Destry brightens immediately, “Well, in that case.”

The pair of them set to work, shoulders just brushing in the cramped kitchenette. Sofiya’s array of pasties are laid out over two plates, which they lay on their laps. Destry’s job for the Robber Claws is, in few words, that of the logician. Papers are scattered all over her apartment, covered in detailed blueprints and scale drawings of buildings all over Ketterdam, Fjerda and even- rarely- Shu Han. There were no drawings of Ravka.

If Iseut had ever commissioned a robbery in Ravka, Sofiya didn’t know about it. It would be…unwise to hit out at the Ravkans, with so many Grisha in the gang.

But Destry’s job was essential, so Sofiya couldn’t complain about the lack of trays to put their plates on. Such things were useless for such an incredible mind as Destry’s.

“So,” says Destry conversationally as she lights the fireplace with a casual flick of her wrist, “How were the Wandering Isles?”

Sofiya says nothing, massaging her temples lightly. Destry manages a laugh.

“Your silence is telling, Sofi,” she warns.

Sighing quietly, suddenly feeling very tired, Sofiya says, “It was crawling with our Fjerdan friends from the North. ‘Peaceful’ Fjerdans.”

Destry spins, and she is outlined with the fire. We’re opposites, Sofiya thinks. Fire and Water.

“You didn’t-” Destry begins, horrified.

Silently, solemnly, Sofiya raised her palms to face the ceiling. Destry reaches out.

Her gentle fingers trace the scars there. Deep and painful and barely healed, the scars run red against Sofiya’s pale flesh.

“Sofiya…” Destry breathes.

“It was the only way to push my power down,” Sofiya whispers. She’s rarely so emotive, but Destry is someone she trusts with everything. It was a weakness, some would say, but they were each powerful Grisha. They were Gods in a world of men. And they would not kneel “If I hadn’t, I would’ve been caught. It was a price to pay.”

Grisha shone like lighthouses around people. In Kerch, in Ketterdam, it was safer for them- especially ones loyal to a gang, as Destry and Sofiya were. But in the Wandering Isles; where Fjerdans passed through on their way to Novyi Zem, where gang affiliations mattered less than the colour of your eyes… Sofiya tells herself she had no choice.

“Sofiya, you’ve opened up old wounds here,” Destry says, tracing the marred skin of her palms again, “You need a healer. Freya, Lita, May-”

“Wouldn’t understand,” Sofiya finished, pulling her hands out of Destry’s and placing them carefully in her lap, obscuring them with her coat, “They’re healers, Des, not warriors- they’d go to Iseut.”

Iseut. Their unofficial leader, the founder, the lighthouse in raging seas. All of the Robber Claws seemed to be caught in her gravity. She was their sun. And Sofiya… well, Sofiya was the moon. Iseut would send her to a healer, one who would stop her travels. One who would commandeer her Warship, and Kastor… health of the mind was important to Iseut.

But Sofiya was not damaged, as they would tell her. She was not broken. Her mind was sound.

I did what I had to do, to survive.

But Destry can see through it all. Through the mask, through her eyes, right to her bones. Through to her lying, treacherous heart. We’re all broken in the end.

But.

Oh, Destry, Destry, please…

“I won’t tell her,” Destry promises, “But I’d like you to know that I think you should. Tell her, that is- Iseut. She might help.”

“She might ship me back to Ravka,” Sofiya grumbles, biting into a toasty croissant.

“Oh, she wouldn’t.”

“You never know.”

“She’ll want you to heal, that’s all.”

“Yes,” Sofiya rolls her eyes, “But these wounds are of the flesh. The scars on my heart will never heal, not in this life Perhaps there will be mercy in the next, even for my rotten soul.”

“You sound like you’re auditioning for the Komedie Brute,” Destry laughs.

“Mother, Father, pay the rent!” Sofiya crows.

“I can’t my dear, the money’s spent,” Destry choruses instinctively.

Sofiya wipes away an invisible tear, “Gorgeous! We’ll make an actress out of you, yet, Destry Clements.”

“Oh, you most certainly will not,” Destry huffs.

Their laughter fills the air, and Sofiya thinks that maybe there is hope for her rotten soul, after all.

~~~~

The man returns late from the pub wearing only one shoe.

A bottle drained halfway of mauve liquid dangles limply from his pale fingers. The veins in his foot are blue in the half-moon’s light.

He slurs a broken melody. She catches a few words as he passes below her on the street.

“Hmm… perish… light… air… fire… hell… hmmm…”

The man’s name is Danyl Harrop. And he is going to die tonight.

“Hmm… shadow… devil… rot… earth… sun… burn… lose….”

Harrop continues down the road, heedless of the mud on his bare foot. He'd be blackout drunk in the morning if he survived.

He wouldn’t.

Silent as a breeze, steps as soft as downy feathers, she leaps from the streetlight where she was perched.

She strikes.

She is ash and shadow. She is a storm of fire. She is vengeance.

She is death.

Harrop yelps as she pins him against the tree. His face is as white as the moon, with eyes like black craters.

“What’re you doi-” he slurs dazedly, but she silences him with a wave of her hand. He blubbers like a fish on land as he tries to shout for help.

“For King and Country,” says the girl. Stepping away from Harrop, she lets her power hold him against the tree, keeping his muscles upright. She surveys him like an artist would their unfinished masterpiece.

The girl whispers, “Sleep tight, Danyl.”

Flicking her wrist, she snaps his neck. He’s still alive, barely, so she latches on to what little of his mind there is left and strips it like an onion. For a man who is out so late, so drunk, on what the girl remembers as a work-day, he knows too much.

Secrets. They feed this girl, nourish her. There is a skip in her step as she turns away from Harrop; without her supporting his muscles, he collapses against the tree. She leaves his mind just as it goes dark.

There is no need to hide in the treetops upon her return to the city. It gleams just half a mile away, most of which is roiling seawater. As the girl wanders along the road back to Ketterdam, she finds Danyl Harrop’s shoe in a puddle of mud. The girl laughs at the sky. She flips a coin into the shoe, whispers a heartless prayer to her Saints, and moves on.

Back to Ketterdam. Back home.

~~~~

Ok, so that's that! I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger... I may have created a whole plot... so there might be some more coming soon!

all these excellent characters (save Sofiya, Danyl, Kastor and the girl at the end who kills Danyl- who has no name... yet *wink*) belong to the following:

Iseut is @littlegirldorothea's

Destry is @finnick-annie's (I may have made them besties👀👀)

Cherry is @brekkercookie's (they are ALSO besties👀👀 we have a trio omg)

Winter is @cressjacquine's

Lyra is @no-mourners-at-my-funeral's

Malcom is @blackpheonix’s

Firefly is @ask-shadowbon’s

Erin is @lightningboytytonjesper’s

Adali is @apple-bottom-jeansx’s

Roza is @vampire-rights’s

Linnea is @alonlyfangirl's

Yan is @lucentcorrigan’s

Anya is @queenlilith43’s

Freya is @smol-evil-gremlin’s

Lita is @the-whispers-of-moonlight’s

May is @saltyfortunes

and the "Fair winds, bright stars" motto as created by @spicy-tomato-sauce's

oh and the whole Grishaverse is the wonderful @lbardugo's <3

if I missed anyone or you want to tag anyone go ahead!

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