#looking at him makes me feel like i left my cat at home locked up (i dont have a cat)

[evilkaeya]

I miss my kitten

[vicsnook]

Out of Oklahoma | Tyler Owens x Reader

word count: 3326

warnings: Tornadoes, Loss, Implied smut

notes: Hey y’all 🤠 I am back with some more content! When I tell y’all I was sat at that theater. Even my boyfriend was thirsting over Glen (specifically in the rain scene, iykyk). Anyways, hope y’all enjoy this one and please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

I crawl out of the hotel bed at 5, hitting the snooze button on the way to the bathroom. My reflection looks back at me less than thrilled for what’s to come today.

Apparently the world hates me because there is no coffee to brew when I check the kitchenette, so now my day’s gone from bad to worse. I check my phone and sure enough I have a million messages from my dumba-sweet brother Boone about how he can’t wait for me to meet his friends.

I'm not ready for that. But nevertheless I carry on and make my way to the airport to board a flight to take me home, to Oklahoma. It’s fine, I think to myself. It’s all going to be okay. But I know it’s a lie. Still I get on the plane and pretend I’m going somewhere tropical instead of the one place I swore I wouldn’t return to.

The wheels touch down roughly on the strip, startling me awake. Here goes nothing. The airport is packed but thankfully all I have is my carry on which holds what little I left to California with six months ago. So much for making a life for myself.

The old Ram is parked just outside the doors and I know I can’t put this off any longer. After what happened last year, I want to turn around and get the hell out of dodge but I can’t avoid him forever. Not when my family needs me, well what’s left of it. “Well, well, well, look at what the cat drug in.”

I sigh and look up, locking eyes with the one person I didn’t want to see ever again. Tyler Owens. My ex-fiancée.

“Tyler. Nice to see you didn’t get blown away by a Tornado,” I force out with the fakest smile I can muster. God knows I’d love to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, amongst other things, I shake my head dismissing the stupid thought.

“Y/N, good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. That all your luggage?” he asks, grabbing my carry on from me and placing it in the bed of the truck before I can even answer. “Yep,” I mumble, getting into the truck.

“So, where’s Boone?” I ask, trying to ease the tension.

Tyler glances over at me and I feel my stomach do a stupid flip. Stop it!

“He’s at your Nana’s house dealing with some of the insurance people. I’m really sorry about what happened, Y/N.” he says. “We tried to warn them.”

“I know,” I say. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You didn’t know it would turn and hit them directly.” I start to reach for his arm to comfort him but pull it back, the gesture feeling inappropriate after all that happened between us.

He nods and continues to drive on. Him and Boone blame themselves but I know there’s nothing they could’ve done. I just wish they’d see it that way.

-

The ruins of the home we grew up in come into view and my heart shatters all over again. The anger bubbling in my stomach as I see all the tornado took from us. Why!? Why us!? I want to scream at the sky as I walk up to my brother who I can tell is barely holding it together.

“Hey Boonie,” I whisper, hugging his back. His breathing shakes as he turns and pulls me into a hug, nearly suffocating me. “I tried sissy, I really did but they’re gone.” he says, “I was too late.”

I hold him as he finally breaks down and I try whispering reassurances in his ear but I know he’s not listening. My eyes make contact with Tyler’s as he heads towards the rubble and begins to sort things out.

“It’s not your fault, Boonie.” I say, holding his face so he looks at me. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He nods quietly, pulling me in for another hug as the guilt consumes me for having left him behind. I should’ve never gone to California.

-

I follow Tyler to the entrance of the dingy motel on the edge of town, still holding on to Boone’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Y/N.” Boone says, handing me the key to my room. “Always,” I respond. Squeezing his hand one last time as he turns to go to his room.

“Where’s the rest of your crew? I haven’t seen them.” I ask Tyler as we head up the stairs since our rooms are on the second floor. “They’re helping some people downtown that got hit too. They asked me to give you their condolences.” He answers, stopping in front of my door.

“Um, thanks and thank you for all you’ve been doing for Boone. I hate that I couldn’t get here sooner.” I say. “California wasn’t all I thought it’d be.”

“Tried to tell ya.”

“I know. I'm sorry, Tyler.”

He moves a step forward and drops his mouth beside my ear, the distance between us almost non-existent. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling.” He drawls, pulling back, then turning around and walking into his room, leaving me in the hallway.

This man will be the death of me.

-

The weeks go by slowly as we deal with the insurance but somewhere along the way we finally get Nana’s ashes back. Boone and I take them out to the river, spreading them at the one place she loved most.

“So how are things between Kate and Tyler?” I ask Boone as we head back to the motel from the pizza parlor.

My stomach clenches, waiting for his answer.

He looks at me and grins. “Why you want to know Sissy? Any interest in getting back in that saddle?”

“Ew! No! I was just curious, Boone.” I say, glaring at him while he laughs.

“They never really were anything serious. She ran off to New York City the second she got her research. Oklahoma held too many painful memories for her or something.”

I nod. Pulling into the motel parking lot that we now call home. That is until the money from the insurance comes through and we can get to rebuilding Nana’s place.

“There’s the man of the hour.” Says Boone pointing at Tyler who’s getting out of his truck. The white shirt clinging to his chiseled chest because of the rain.

He really does look good in a cowboy hat. I think, quickly shaking my head trying to erase the thought. “Close your mouth Sissy, you’re gonna get drool all over yourself.” Boone teases and I playfully smack him, tearing my eyes off Tyler.

“You know Sissy, I don’t get it.”

“Get what?” I ask, turning off the ignition.

“How y’all girls run away from that man. I mean I ain’t blind and I may be biased because he’s my best friend but his personality doesn’t suck either.” I sigh, knowing he’s not wrong.

“It’s complicated.” I finally say, and get out of the car. Heading for my room before Boone can add anything else.

-

“Where are we going?” I ask again for the millionth time. Letting Tyler and Boone blindfold me was starting to seem like a mistake the longer we were in the truck.

It also didn’t help that Tyler was playing the cd I burned for him back in high school.

“Almost there, Sissy.” Boone assures me, as the truck left the paved road and headed down a dirt road. Please Lord don’t let this be another one of Boone’s pranks.

Tyler helps me out the truck and leads me down a rocky path. My nerves increasing by the second and wondering where my brother had ran off to.

“Tada!” yells Boone, the bandana falling off my eyes as Tyler pulls off the knot.

“I know it ain't much Sissy but I couldn’t let you keep living in that Motel much longer.” Boone says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the tiny home that now sits behind where Nana’s new house will be. “So, you hate it?”

“No! Thank you so much!” I yell, pulling him into a hug. “You really didn’t have to do this Boonie.” Tears stream down my face as my brother squeezes me. Thank you God for such a good brother.

“I can’t take all the credit, it was Tyler’s idea after all.” Boone whispers to me. I nod, pulling away and wiping the tears off my cheeks.

Lord knows if things were different I’d be running to Tyler and giving him a big ol’ kiss right now. But they aren’t. I remind myself so I settled for just saying “Thank you, Ty.”

“Not a problem.” He says, turning to follow my brother to my now little home.

-

“Please work, come on!” I yell at the shower. My little home was nothing but perfect, well except for the water which always seemed to go out at the most inconvenient times.

I try calling Boone but I’m greeted by his voicemail which only leaves one other person to call. Sighing I pull up his contact and dial. Ignoring the contact picture that I never bothered to change.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um sorry to bother but I can’t reach Boone and my water went out again while I was washing my hair,” I say, already regretting calling him.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” He replies, hanging up before I can say anything else. I pull on a bathrobe and tidy up before he gets here. I wince when I see my hair in the mirror, suds still in it but oh well. Tyler’s seen me how the lord made me so I doubt a little bit of suds will make me ugly.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by his knocking and I think as I open the door that maybe I should’ve thrown some clothes on. “Hey,” I say, stepping aside as he makes his way to the water heater closet to check there first.

The minutes pass and the silence is eating me alive. The temptation to say that I was wrong for ending things the way I did consumes me. So much so that I don’t realize he’s talking to me until he comes to stand in front of me.

“Earth to Y/N? It’s fixed. You shouldn’t have any more issues.”

“Thanks Ty. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” I reply, his eyes meeting mine.

“Live your life without fear of me dying everyday because of what I do,” he says, it's clear to me then that the wound is still very much open.

He starts to head for the door but I’m quick to get up and grab his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Ty, I’m sorry. I was wrong, okay? All I did was trade tornadoes for earthquakes. Happiness for misery. I was wrong and I shouldn’t have left the way I did.” I say, my eyes searching for his.

“You left me, Y/N. You packed your bags and left without saying a word, leaving all of us behind. So, no, sorry doesn’t cut it here. I’m sorry about your Nana but you made your mistakes. Live with them.” He replies, the anger in his eyes sending chills down my spine. I swallow the lump in my throat long enough for him to walk out and slam the door on his way out. What the fuck did I do and how can I even fix it?

-

** 6 months later **

Nana’s house is finished. It looks similar to the one the tornado tore from the ground but me and Boone know it couldn’t be more different.

We bring in what we could salvage slowly and try to make it look as closely as possible to the original one. Lastly, placing a picture of Nana, Boone, and I, that Lily recovered from the wreckage on the mantel.

“Close enough,” Boone whispers, sitting on the couches that Dani and Dexter got us.

“Yeah, I just wish she was still here.” I reply, sitting across from him. “You going chasing again today?”

“Yeah, but I promise we’re being safe sissy. We don’t do that driving into tornadoes and shooting off fireworks anymore after Nana,” He answers, sadness filling his features.

“Just be safe,” I mutter, taking a seat next to him and letting him pull me into a hug. “Always.”

“For what it’s worth, he’s not really mad at you. He’s mad at himself for not realizing sooner how far gone you were until it was too late.”

A sigh escapes me as he gets up, giving me a faint smile before walking out the door. Off to chase the very thing that took the last bit of family we had.

-

The rain came in buckets. All day it’d been so pretty but as soon as I stepped outside the grocery store, I saw how much the sky had changed. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as lightning struck.

Rushing to my car, I threw the groceries in the back seat but before I could throw the car in reverse I heard it.

The tornado sirens.

I threw open the car door and started sprinting back into the grocery store but a cry for help stopped me before I could make it in. Lord please protect them. I prayed quickly.

Debris was already flying all around me when I turned to look for the source of the pleas and then I spotted her. A girl who looked no more than 15 was on the ground in the parking lot, her leg in a cast and her crutches nowhere to be seen. “Please help me!”

I ran towards her. My body going into overdrive as the wind threatened to push me over too. “Please don’t let me die,” she begged as I threw her arm around me and hurried back for the door.

The wind picked up even more and the rain turned into hail as I trekked through the lot trying to make it back inside. The short distance seemed infinite.

I felt it before I could even turn. It was there. The loud roar filled my ears as I pulled the girl in front of me and with the last of my strength I had, I pushed her to where the door was.

Then my feet left the ground as the tornado sucked me in and I felt the world go black.

-

“Bo-one?” I rasp, my throat on fire and my entire body feeling like it’d been run over. The events leading up to this moment slowly coming back to me as I struggle to open my eyes.

“Hey, he’s just outside talking to the doctor, let me get him,” replies Tyler softly. My eyes adjust to the harsh hospital lights as he steps out the door and taps Boone on the shoulder.

My head pounds as I take in my surroundings. Scratches cover up both my arms. If I looked into a mirror right now I’d probably collapse.

“Sissy! Thank God you’re okay!” Hollers Boone as he comes to my bedside, careful not to hurt me when pulling me to him. “I thought I lost you.”

His tears wetting my hospital gown as I hug him back as best I could. “I’m okay, Boonie.” I whisper in his ear as he sobs.

“Is the girl okay?” I ask, worry filling me up at the thought that she didn’t make it.

“Yes, she made it inside just in time, Sissy. You saved her life.” Boone says, taking my head in his hands and pressing our foreheads together like we did when we were kids.

I close my eyes, nodding and thanking God that we were all okay.

“I need to go sign some paperwork but if you’re feeling up to it, we can take you home today. You got lucky,” Boone tells me while getting up from my hospital bed.

“I’d love nothing more than my bed.” I reply, shooting him a smile as he steps out.

I turn to Tyler who’s been quietly standing in the corner this whole time and I notice his swollen eyes. My heart squeezing at the thought of having worried him and Boone.

“Hey,” I mutter, and his eyes finally meet mine.

“Guess Boone isn’t the only tornado chaser in the family huh,” he jokes, still standing in the corner.

“Guess not,” I reply, chuckling but my throat is so dry that it turns into a cough and he’s rushing to my bedside with a glass of water in hand.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as I chug the water. Instant relief filling my throat. “So, can you fill me in on what happened after I got sucked into the tornado?”

“Uh, well witness accounts are that you pushed the girl inside and then got sucked in. Me and Boone had been chasing the tornado and pulled into the lot as it dissipated.” He stops, taking a seat on the bed and grabbing my hand. “The people in the supermarket started pouring out and screaming that you got sucked in, of course at the time we didn’t know it’d been you. Nevertheless we all started searching and found you passed out on top of a tarp in the baseball field.”

“Oh wow, that’s quite the distance. Saved myself some gas for sure,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. “Y/N, you could’ve died. You got out with scratches and a story but you could’ve died,” he says, a somber look on his face.

“Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t die. Nana protected me,” I tell him, tipping his face so his eyes meet mine. “I got a second chance to start over and,” but he cuts me off.

“I love you,” he says, then his lips crash into mine. The kiss knocks the air out of my lungs but as he pulls away, I recover and pull him back to my lips.

When he finally draws back, his eyes are teary but there is no sadness in them anymore. “I’m sorry for walking out on you, if you had died, I don’t know how I could live with myself, knowing how I left things,” he says, his words piercing my heart.

“Hey,” I say softly, “I’m here and I’m okay. I know there’s a lot we need to talk about but I can promise you this, I’m not leaving Oklahoma. Ever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” I whisper, leaning in to meet his lips.

But before we can finish our moment with a kiss Boone is bursting through the door.

-

** One month later **

“Ty! Dinner’s ready!” I holler, and I hear the sound of the shower turning off. Making my way to the living room I stop and pick up my Nana’s picture, thank you for saving me. I think to myself and put it back down.

“Ty! Come on!” I yell, quietly sneaking up the stairs to our room. Glad that Boone’s off with Lily at the fair.

“Coming!” I hear him yell from the bathroom. The towel is wrapped around his waist and drops of water make their way down his abs. Man, I’d sure love to be that towel. I think to myself as I watch from the door crack but am greeted with a smirk when I make my way up to his face.

“Hey darlin’, coming to see the view?” he asks cheekily, turning to me. Busted.

“Well you’re the one who says “if you feel it, chase it,” and I sure am feeling a lot of things right now,” I reply, letting my eyes trail down his chest.

“Oh, yeah?” he replies, coming closer. “Well you better start running.”

I giggle and turn to run but don’t even make it out the room before he’s tackling me to the bed. Dinner is gonna be real cold when we’re done here.

[jamminvroomvroom]

helping hand.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re getting ready for a date and lando knows it’s a waste of time

back with more lando brainrot :D obsessed with best friend!lando atm, on a bit of a roll with the writing so send me your ideas! lemme know what you think! 🫶

songs to set the mood: kiss me more by doja cat, moth to a flame by the weeknd, i think by tyler, the creator, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! porn with plot, smut, fluff, angst if you squint? choking, biting like once, best friend!lando

2.9k words

a key turning in the lock made you jump, groaning when you realised who it was. lando had been home for a few days now, it was about time he showed up. he’d had a key since you moved in.

you know, for emergencies.

he’d already called you a few times that day, and you’d let it ring out each time. talking to lando while you were supposed to be getting ready for a date was never a good idea. it would be end up being his face you’d imagine sipping wine on the other side of the table, his face you’d picture when you fell messily into bed while someone else’s hands roamed your body, his face you would hope to see when your eyes fluttered open the next morning.

so, yeah. answering the phone was a recipe for disaster.

you scurried across the floor in the heels you were trying to break in, scavenging for your robe to cover your bare skin. by the time the door swung open, you’d managed to disappear into your bedroom, bare skin somewhat covered.

“why don’t you answer your phone?” you heard lando whinging down the hallway.

“i’m getting ready to go out, didn’t see your call.” you called back. it was a blatant lie but he didn’t need to know that.

“oooh, girls night out?” you could hear his footsteps getting closer and then he appeared in the doorway.

he looked cosy, bundled up in a thick jacket layered over a hoodie. a beanie covered most of his curls, a few hanging loose over his eyes. the cold weather had left him flushed, rubbing his hands together for warmth. you, on the other hand, were wearing much less, a silky robe covering soft pink lingerie. your makeup was half done, an outfit strewn together on your bed.

“nope. got a date.” you replied, grabbing your eyeshadow brush. you tried not to look at him too much, otherwise you’d never get out the door.

you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you, eyes half bulging out of his head. this was too much skin, too much much everything, the lingerie that was covering not a lot telling him information that made his stomach twist. he pulled it together, clearing his throat.

“not that finance guy again, surely.” lando teased, shedding his coat and hat at the end of your bed. your sigh confirmed that, yes, it was that finance guy again.

“i’m just trying to see where it goes. he’s not that bad.” you reasoned, dropping the brush back onto your vanity. your eyelids were shimmering under the light, but all you could focus on was the image of your best friend sprawled out on your bed, watching you watch him.

“trust me, sweetie, he seems it.” lando quipped, sarcastic sympathy spilling from his quirked up lips. “so are you going out like that?” he laughed, eyeing your half dressed body. in all your years of friendship, he’d seen a lot more of you, and that’s why you hadn’t kicked him out screaming, or shied away. you ignored the sick and twisted feeling that you wanted* him to see you like this

“no,” you drew the word out, slow, as if you were making fun of him. “actually, you’re laying all over my outfit.” you raised an eyebrow, still holding eye contact with him through the mirror.

“damn,” he breathed through his teeth. “someones tryna get laid.” lando picked up the sheer top in one hand, the mini skirt in the other, a knowing look on his smug, beautiful, evil face.

“shut up!” you threw an eye pencil at him, but he ducked successfully. “listen, some of us have needs, okay? we can’t all be super famous formula 1 drivers.”

“well, i’m just saying. you don’t need to waste your time on stock bro steve if all you need is a shag.” lando was smirking now, and you were blushing redder than a ferrari.

“be quiet, you.” you scoffed.

you tried to shake off his words, but you couldn’t quite help the way your thighs clenched at what he was implying.

“i mean it. you have other options.” lando was sat up now, resting against your headboard, intently watching the way you were fumbling through your makeup bag.

“if i had other options, lando, i would have explored them by now. trust me.” you sounded frustrated, and lando was beyond intrigued.

“that bad, huh? how longs it been?” he was looking at you intently, craving an answer. the dim lighting couldn’t disguise the blush on your face and he was loving it.

“piss off.” you mumbled.

“you can tell me, sweetie. i don’t bite. unless you’re into that.”

another eyebrow pencil went flying in his direction.

“fuck you.”

“is that what you wanna do? i don’t have anywhere to be.” he was killing himself laughing at you, watching you squirm.

“a couple months.” you muttered.

“oh, honey.” lando cooed.

“why do you even care about this?” you whined, shaky hands fighting to unscrew your mascara.

“because i don’t like the idea of that dickhead touching you.” he said it so nonchalantly, as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

“lando-“

“am i reading this wrong? because something tells me that he’s not the one you want touching you.”

you watched, bewildered, as he pushed himself off your mattress, stalking towards you. he shrugged his hoodie off, adding it to his pile of garments at the end of the bed.

“what are you doing?” you questioned, dropping the mascara onto the table, sitting up straighter in anticipation.

“tell me now that it’s him you want.” he was getting closer and closer.

“i- i dont-“

“c’mon, sweetheart, tell me, and i’ll let you get ready in peace.”

he was right behind you now, body heat radiating against your back, goose bumps littering your bare shoulder where your robe had slipped.

“i don’t want him.” you whispered.

“who do you want? did you miss me as much as i missed you?”

“i always miss you.” you whispered.

“and yet, you’re getting ready for another man to fuck you, honey, when i’m right here.”

“what do you- lando, what are you doing?” you rambled, hands flat on your vanity, as if you were trying to ground yourself. you were shaking.

“helping you. is that okay, honey? do you want me to help you?” he spoke so softly, you could feel your legs quivering.

“yes.” you breathed and the way his eyes darkened made your thighs clench even harder.

lando leaned over you, until his head rested in the crook of your neck, hands finding your waist. he pulled you up from your stool, kicking it along the floor so that nothing separated you. you were flush against him, his nose nuzzling against your cheek. and then he was kissing your skin, your neck exposed to his assault. he trailed his lips over the taut flesh, teeth scraping that spot just below your ear.

all you could do was stare, disbelief in your eyes as you watched him touch you, hands pulling your hips into his. you’d wondered, now and then, if this would ever happen, and now here you were, falling into his touch like it was made to be all over your body.

lando turned you around, dropping you on the vanity. he crouched down in front you, pulling your ankle into his hands. nimble fingers worked over the clasp, fiddling with the buckle while he kissed over the sensitive skin of your thighs. one shoe dropped to the floor, and he made quick work of the other, lips trailing further and further up your legs. the bastard had the nerve to keep eye contact the entire time, and you keened at his touch, jolting when he moved under the hem of your robe.

lando pulled away, despite your groan of protest. he tugged you off the dresser, spinning you back to face the mirror, one of his hands slipping down your legs and finding your knee, picking you up and planting it on the dresser. you were spread out for him, now, sprawled out in front of the mirror.

“let’s get this off, yeah?” he whispered, hands smoothing over the silky material of your robe. it slipped off easily, one tug at the tie and it was on the floor, leaving you clad in your set. “all for me, right?”

“do something.” you gasped out, one of your hands thrown back to thread through his curls.

“all for me, right?” he repeated, biting down on your neck.

“yes, god, please.” you whimpered, needier for him than the guy you’d spent all afternoon getting ready for, yet you couldn’t spare him a thought when lando was toying with you like this.

“‘m gonna fuck you like this, make you watch so that you learn your lesson.”

“what lesson?” you choked out.

“that i’m the only one that can satisfy you like this.” he mumbled, so matter of fact.

“prove it.”

he liked the challenge, it seemed, because his hand was inside your panties before you could breathe. you could see his fingers working over you, the skimpy lace doing nothing to hide his movements. you arched into him the second he found your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. your eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure eating away at you and your ability to control yourself.

“eyes open.”

you tried your hardest, but it was near impossible when he was working over your pussy like he’d done it a million times, like he already knew the ins and outs of your body, what made you tick. you cried out when he slipped a finger in you, the action simultaneous with his free hand finding a home at the base of your throat.

“no wonder you can’t find someone to get you off, no one’s ever fucked some manners into you.” he growled into your ear, and your eyes shot open. his grip tightened, a second finger sliding through your wetness. “you’re gonna listen to me from now on, baby, or you get nothing.”

“‘m trying.” you breathed, slurring your words already. if only you’d done this sooner.

“not hard enough, clearly.” he was grinding his fingers in harder, deeper, palm flat against your clit. you were panting out moans, heart beating so hard you could hear it in your ears, and now that you’d obeyed, eyes as wide as they could be, you couldn’t take them off his. he looked so smug, so pretty as he had his way with you, and you loved it, the way he was watching you sending an extra shot of heat to the pleasure pooling in your belly.

“is this what you needed, honey? do you think he could have done better? bet he couldn’t even make you come.” lando spat, fucking you even faster somehow. you felt drunk.

“no, lando. you’re so good.” you whined, pushing your ass back into him again.

you could feel how hard he was, taken aback at how filthy he was being, how dominant he was. you never could have imagined this, and honestly, you’d tried.

“you gonna come for me, sweetie? i can feel how bad you want it.” lando coaxed your orgasm out of you, your soft tummy tightening as you clamped down on his fingers. his thumb found your clit, circles left on the glistening flesh and all you could do was pray the hand wrapped around your neck would keep you upright.

one last flick of the wrist had you screaming, gushing all over his fingers. you could feel yourself dripping, your slick painting your inner thighs as you came, and he helped your through it. slow strokes brought you down from your high, and you slumped backwards into his arms.

“i’m not done yet.” he groaned, fingers dragged out of your panties and into his mouth. you watched the way his tongue licked over the digits, stomach fluttering at the sinful sight.

“good.” you replied, reaching behind you to search for the button of his jeans. he laughed lowly, batting your hands away.

“i’ll do the work, you deserve it.” his hand cupped your cheek, turning your head so that you were facing him, your body still facing the mirror.

you looked between his eyes and his lips, and he did the same, taking in your tired features, the lazy smile on your lips. you wanted him to kiss you, wanted to see if that drove you as crazy as everything else he’d done. you were quickly proved right. he slotted his lips over yours, your nose bumping his. a quiet moan sounded from the back of his throat and you shivered, deepening the kiss. his tongue moved with yours deliciously, sweet mint lingering in his mouth.

“need you.” you muttered against his lips, your words swallowed by the lingering kiss. he hummed in agreement, prying himself away from your swollen lips, his lack of self control making it harder than necessary. the faint trace of his lips made you delirious, and you feared you’d always crave more now that you’d had a taste.

“i’ve got you, honey. hands flat for me.”

you positioned yourself how he wanted, your palms flat against the vanity. he pushed your knee across the surface, makeup that you couldn’t care less about clattering to the ground. one of his hands snaked around your body, toying with the lace of your bra as he grabbed a handful of your breast. you watched the way his strong grip held you in place, breathing shakily when his free hand dipped between your thighs. you could see how wet you were when he tugged the flimsy lace aside, cupping your cunt one last time to spread your wetness around.

you heard the zip of his jeans, the rustle of clothing, your eyes rolling back as he kissed behind your ear. he slid into your slowly, feeling every part of him as he went deeper and deeper. the stretch made your tear up, the way he was filling you up scratching a itch that you hadn’t been able to satisfy in far too long.

“oh.” you gasped, clenching around him. he hissed at the sensation, grip tightening on your chest.

“that is the tightest fucking thing.” he moaned, thick neck on display as he bottomed out. “no one’s fucked you properly, have they, baby?”

“need it, lando.” you tried to push your hips back, tried to feel him even deeper somehow, but he held you down.

he moved slow, feeling you out, looking for a rhythm. you couldn’t breathe, watching the way he could barely keep his eyes open. you were obsessed, never so thankful for him barging into your apartment uninvited.

as fucking good as it felt, you needed more, just a bit more, desperate to not be able to walk after. you grabbed his hand, guiding it up your body, meeting his eyes in the mirror as you placed it at the base of your throat. a look was exchanged, one of pleading, and trust, and maybe even a little bit of something else, and everything in him changed.

your back collided with his front, the pressure on your neck and the power of his thrust making you dizzy. the pace was rapid, hips hitting yours with a point to prove. you mouth hung open, unable to take your eyes off the way his body rolled against yours. this was addictive, so far clear of any sex you’d ever had, maybe even of any you’d have again.

“so good for me. not gonna be able to forget those pretty eyes watching me.” he slurred, breathing heavily into your ear.

you nodded frantically, begs for more, please, more tumbling from your lips.

“no more dates. no more of these little boys trying to get you off. it’s gonna be me from now on.”

“better be.” you choked out, your head falling into the crook of his neck.

“that’s right, baby. gonna watch me make you come?” he crooned into your ear.

and you did, eyes locked with his once again as he finished you off. you were slick with sweat, trying to catch your breath.

“good?” he pressed a kiss to your hairline, slowly untangling himself from you.

“very.”

“let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

lando helped you off the vanity, carrying you back over to your bed and placing you on the end. you watched him look around for some clothes, but you stole his hoodie, the one he’d left on the end of the bed. his scent surrounded you as you slipped it over your head, spicy and sweet.

you heard your phone buzzing, reaching around for it blindly but lando got to it first. the shit eating grin he wore made you sweat, eyes widening in horror when it dawned on you.

“stock market steve’s wondering where you are. think i should set him straight.” he teased.

“lando, don’t-“ you couldn’t even stop him, your body aching too much.

“hello?” lando sing songed down the line and you hid your face in your hands. “as much as i just know she’d love to hear you talk about how many watches you have and then finish in six seconds, she’s occupied.” and with that, he put the phone down.

“you are so lucky i can’t walk right now.” you threatened, flopping back onto your bed. he was quickly hovering over you, resting above you on his forearms.

“care to make it worse?” he grinned mischievously, and you knew that you were well and truly done for, ruined for anybody else.

“do your best.”

lord knows, he did.

-

hehe

-

taglist

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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed 🫶

[bimrwolf]

Healing Hands by the Fire

geralt of rivia x afab!reader words: 3,684 warnings: smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; squint and you may see a casual plot summary: Geralt visits Reader, a healer, with severe injuries. a/n: very out of my comfort zone. however, i promised my friend to write this as her christmas present because writing fanfics are my love language. good thing i know basic things about the witcher heheehe.

How did she always end up here? Months without a word or seeing him. She had accepted the peace. Only occasionally did she perk up when there was a knock on her door, secretly hoping it was him. But only one could be so lucky. Instead, it was travelers from all over the Continent who heard word of her abilities.

She couldn’t complain. Healing others in exchange for seeds, food, and sometimes money. Not that it was required for her service but she couldn’t complain about the gratuity.

In fact, she enjoyed helping others. However, it was nearing winter and there were less travelers. They were most likely home to prepare for the violent winter storms that damned the Continent. 

It was one of the first snow falls of the season. She had finished feeding the chickens and her horse Atticus. That was always her nighttime routine. Feed the animals, make some tea, study until all the tea is drunk, and finally get ready for bed. 

Some might think the routine would get tiring, but there was never any guarantee. It was the one consistent thing in her life at the moment. She was content. 

However, some nights, she heard the enchanted chimes outside that let her know someone was approaching. But before she made it to the door, it swung open, snow flurries drifted inside. The cold was sharp and pricked her nose, making her sniffle. 

In most cases she would be alarmed. There was no telling what creatures or people were harmless and which ones weren’t. She clutched the nearest thing to her— a broom that always gave her splinters when she used it. 

His snow white hair peeked from under his hood and she recognized the distinct low grumble that could be mistaken as a quake. He slowly closed the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “You startled me.” She said, releasing her grip from the broom, checking her hand for any loose wood. 

“You should keep the door locked. What if I was a dangerous man breaking in?” She played it off as a joke, not seeing the concerned look on his face. 

“Some might say you are dangerous.” She smirked. She never expected him to react to her jokes, but she could feel the warmth blanket around her when his shoulders relaxed. “Are you going to stand there all night?” 

He limped further into the cabin. She could see the snow melting on his cloak, dripping on her floor. “You made a mess,” she huffed. 

His head lifted and cat-like eyes met hers. It was known his abilities and job forced him to lack showing how he felt. But, she noticed right away how his eyes drooped that he was in pain. 

She ran towards him, immediately untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor. She gasped at the large claw marks scratched into his chest. He could withstand most injuries but the cuts had broken past the many layers of skin. 

“Fuck, Geralt. What happened?” Her finger ghosted over the wound on his shoulder. Almost immediately he grabbed her wrist. But she didn’t pull away. 

“I’m starving.” He took a moment to look her up and down before letting go of her wrist and walking past her. 

Unbelievable. She scoffed and followed him into her den. “Are you serious? Geralt, you’re hurt and need to be healed before you get an infection.” 

“I smell meat pie. Do you have any to spare?” He left no time for her to answer. He grabbed the plate on a table and began to shove them in his mouth. He groaned in satisfaction. 

She wanted to be annoyed, but she had never seen him act this way. So instead she watched as he stuffed his face. He sat down slowly in a wooden chair. His large body mass made it creak, rocking it with the sound of the crackling fire. His spastic breathing mellowed out into a deep sigh.

He was definitely hurting from his wound but there was something else. She could sense that something was bothering him. Yet, she didn’t pry for an explanation. Instead, she let him watch the fire as she gathered her supplies of elixirs and jars. Then she picked up the pot full of water hanging above the fire and poured it into a bowl. The steam warmed her face that was still cold from earlier. 

“Are you still hungry? I think I only have bread.” She sat her things on the table next to him, but not looking in his direction. However, she could feel his piercing eyes watching her every single move. “If you’re not feeling like bread I can stay up and make you soup.” 

His hand flew to her wrist. She jumped, nearly knocking over a bottle with green shiny liquid. She turned her head slightly, sighing deeply. “It hurts,” Geralt mumbled. 

His wound was red, inflamed, and looked worse in the light. And if Geralt says it hurts then it was worse than she had imagined. “Take your tunic off while I prepare.” Although it was her giving the instruction, she couldn’t help the heat on her cheeks arise. Especially when he did what he was told. She had only seen his bare chest a handful of times, but each time made her stomach knot up. 

He took a heavy breath as he settled back into the chair, wincing when she placed a hot cloth on his open wound. His nails dug into the chair. His teeth clenched as he threw his head back. She couldn’t help but giggle. In return, he snapped his head to look at her, visibly annoyed. “What?” 

She swatted him for the rash reaction. “No need to be hot headed, Geralt. I was only laughing because I’ve never seen you act so dramatic.” 

“I’m not being dramatic,” he argued. He winced again when the cloth touched his skin once more. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the smirk she tried to hide from him, her hair covered her face. Not thinking, he took his finger and pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly. 

She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach or how her chest was breathing differently. She even tried to look away subtly but the only thing she could look at without being suspicious was his bare chest. “How’s Yennefer?” 

The change of subject was almost as if she had poured salt into his fresh wounds. He yanked his hand away and turned his head to face the fire, jaw ticked. She should’ve felt guilty for bringing up his on and off lover. Instead, she felt relieved his attention was no longer on her and probably wouldn’t be the rest of the night. 

That’s how it always went. He would get too close and right before she fell under his spell she would mention the other woman. She had only met the sorceress once. They neither liked or disliked one another. Yet, she could tell there would not be any attempts to go frollicking in a field like they were the best of friends. 

In some ways, she had been jealous of Yennefer– she was interesting and traveled the Continent and had fought in many wars. She was beautiful and cunning. Of course Geralt would pick her as a lover. 

“Ow.” Geralt grimaced, shifting in the chair. Her fingers were touching the wounds, and spreading them apart. “Are you about done? I’m tired.” 

She continued to inspect his wounds closely, having to push between his legs to get a closer look. “I have to ensure there are no severe damages so I know what to make.” His huff made her roll her eyes. She wanted to swat him for still acting like a child. “Whatever got you, got you good, eh?” 

He looked away then back at her, swallowing. “Yes, I suppose.” 

There was a beat of silence. Only the fire was popping. 

“I thought I was goin’ to die.” He said out loud in a low whisper. Almost like he didn’t want her to hear him.

She stopped briefly to look up at him. He was serious. “Well, fortunately whatever it was missed your heart by a hair.” She pointed to where his heart was and traced a line to the start of one of the scratches only millimeters away. She got up, leaving him with a witty smile as she started to pour the many different potions into a different bowl. 

“Me and Yennefer haven’t spoken in months,” he admitted. 

It was hard not to react, but she had never seen him willingly talk about the woman before. “Oh.” 

“We wanted different things I suppose,” he continued. “If it weren’t for Ciri’s letters, then I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.” 

“You miss her?” It was meant to sound like a question, but it came across as a statement. 

He looked down at his hands, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to miss someone.” 

“Are you not allowed or are you unsure you know what it’s supposed to feel like?” 

He didn’t answer. 

She walked back and found her place again between his legs. “Missing someone feels like always looking at the door when there’s a knock, and your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s them.” She dipped her finger in the cream she had made and started to apply it to the open wound. 

“I don’t live in a cottage with a door.” His hands creeped to his thighs so they brushed her as she moved. 

She finished with the first cut and moved onto the second, which was much deeper and longer. “Well, missing someone can also feel like wanting to cry even when you’re happy.” 

“You do know I have emotions?” He quizzed her. 

She smirked. “Of course I do. I was only trying to help you figure out if you miss Yennefer.” 

He hummed, running a finger over the first wound she had treated which was starting to already heal. His skin attaching itself together again. “I miss her, but not in the way you think I do.” 

“Then in what way?” She raised her brow, clearly confused as to what he meant. 

He didn’t answer her right away. “Not in the way I miss you.” 

The bowl in her hand nearly clattered to the floor. She froze, replaying the words over and over as if she hadn’t heard him. Did Geralt really admit to missing her? No, he doesn’t actually mean it. He was messing with her. “That’s not funny.” Her breath was shaky. In fact, her hands were shaky too as she tried to continue healing him. 

“Did I make a joke?” His tone was unwavering. He placed his hand on her warm cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft flesh. He had never touched her so intimately like he was now. 

She shook her head, using her free hand to brush him away, focusing on the rest of his injuries. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delusional.” 

“I thought your potions helped with that?” 

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, briefly, before averting them back to the bowl. She swooped the last of the cream on her finger and spread it slowly over the last scratch. The others had closed up but one could make out the red scar. “Those will go away in due time,” she mumbled. 

As she tried to get up he caught her arm, standing up with her, and in doing so their chests were against one another. He could feel her heavy breathing. And she could feel the warmth from his body electrifying hers. 

“I should go make your bed. You need to rest.” She tried to walk away but his grip never left her arm. “Geralt.” 

He took the bowl from her hands and placed it back on the table. “How much longer will you deny it?” 

She swallowed the gasp that had almost escaped her, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” Finally, she had pulled away but made no efforts to leave the room, only stepping back to make space between them. And of course he could probably read her like an open book while she only had his stoic expressions to decipher. He opened his mouth, but closed it, sighing loudly. “Thank you, Y/n.” 

Her face softened. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. In fact, I don’t know what I would do without you.” His jaw slacked, watching her intensely. 

She could feel the pull, like a magnet, all too familiar when it came to Geralt. Normally, she had to ignore it. But at that moment, it felt like a boiling pot of water, steaming and bubbling, unable to contain itself. And as she looked into his piercing eyes, the knot in her stomach told her it was time to say something. “Geralt.” Her voice was above a whisper. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” His expression never faltered. 

She shifted her feet, uncomfortable. “I… I um… I’m making oat porridge in the morning.” She had decided it was best to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I’ll go prepare your room.” 

His yellow eyes narrowed, searching for hers. She knew he was watching the emotions swirl through her mind. She knew that he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say to him. “No.” He was assertive and the growled vibrations dragged along her back like a dagger, giving her chills. 

Ignoring the goosebumps along her arms, she ran her hand over her face. “What do you want me to say?” She felt like a twig that had snapped. “Why are you being mean? You stand there forcing a confession out of me. A confession you will never get because there’s nothing to say.” Her tears burned in the corner of her eyes. She hated how foolish she looked in front of him. Crying and blubbering because he decided to dig deeper. 

They had a routine. He would knock on the door and she would heal his wounds. Their deep conversations were rare, and sometimes he wouldn’t speak at all. Sometimes he would leave in the morning without a word. So why must this time be any different than the others? 

“You’re angry.” 

She scoffed. “Yes, I’m angry.” Unable to face him, she turned to look at the fireplace, shaking her head. “That’s the most frustrating part of all of this. I’m angry that you’re here. I’m angry that I don’t see you for months with no word if you’re even alive. I’m angry that you show up when I’m missing you the most.” Her eyes caught his, her nostrils flared. She had had enough of it, storming up to him and putting a finger against his bare chest. “I’m angry that you sit there and touch me and talk to me like we’re lovers. I’m angry that you won’t go to someone else for help. Because I can’t do it anymore, Geralt. I can’t do it.” 

And there it was. Years worth of bubbling water, spilling over the pot and all over the floor. She had made a mess that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to clean up. 

Geralt’s jaw ticked, his eyes scanning her face. “You wish to not see me anymore? Would that be easier?” 

Her finger fell slowly from his chest. Her voice trembled. “It’s easier than caring about you.” 

Geralt brought his hand up slowly to her cheek, brushing his knuckle against a tear. “I am angry at you too,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed, unsure what he meant. “I told you I have feelings too. Yet, you assume I don’t. You assume I don’t care about you either.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you?” 

“Why do you think I keep coming back?” His jaw slacked. 

The tension between them was thick and palpable. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Her heart was torn. Even with the confession, there was no guarantee. He was a Witcher with responsibilities that were not suitable for the life she wanted. She pushed it away, cracking a smile. “Are you saying that you got injured on purpose? So you could see me?” 

“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth flickered, leaning his head down towards her. 

“You could’ve died.” She stepped closer to him, tracing her finger of his scars, looking at his lips.

“But I didn’t.” He said against her mouth, finally closing the gap between them. 

He wrapped his arms around her, strong and sure, deepening the kiss. It was gentle but fierce, full of longing and tension that had been built up along the years. It tasted like all the warm tea she had made for him over time. 

When she moaned, Geralt took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth, gliding it tenderly and carefully against hers, groaning in satisfaction. He somehow managed to pull her closer as if their bodies weren’t already meshed together.

It was her who broke away first, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving from the heavy kiss. Geralt’s eyes had turned black, his senses heightened, craving more. 

Without a word, she unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her chest as she dropped it to the floor. She kissed Geralt again on the mouth, his neck, and then his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I think I should go prepare your room now.” 

He nodded, allowing her to take his hand to lead him to her room, rather than the room up in the attic that her guests normally stayed in. It was full of knick knacks and books scattered. Her bed was unmade, but neither one of them cared. 

She pushed him on the bed, straddling his lap, peppering kisses all over his chest. If she was smart, she would savor all of it– every kiss and touch. But fuck all of it. She had waited too long to savor it.  She grinded herself against his hardness, smiling against his ear when she felt him jump through his trousers. Something had told her it was too long for him too. 

The rest of their clothes had found a new place on the floor of her bedroom. She was now laying down, Geralt hovered over her, his chain dangled over her face, and his hands roamed over her bare body as she whimpered under his touch. His lips attacked her neck, trailing down her body, relishing every inch. 

“Geralt,” she mewled. 

She felt the vibrations of his chuckle, revitalizing her, the warmth between her legs now ached. “Yes?” He came back towards her mouth, placing a life-wrecking kiss on it. 

She nibbled his bottom lip. “You know.” 

“Mm, I don’t think I do,” he teased. His hand was between her legs, fingers gliding, taunting her. 

She thrusted her hips upwards, forcing friction against her swollen clit, gasping when he slid a finger in her. “I need you.”

The pitiful look in her eyes convinced him enough to give her what she wanted. And because any longer, he felt like he would combust. Geralt pushed her legs apart and then guided his girthy length to her entrance, sliding it in slowly. 

She gasped as he sunk deeper inside her, finally able to marvel all of her. It was sweet like the honey she snuck in his tea. Rich like the pastries she packed in his knapsack whenever he left in the mornings, without saying goodbye because he was afraid he would never leave if he saw her golden smile in the mornings. Yet, he wasn’t strong enough to never come back. 

At first, his thrusts were slow and tender, slipping so deep that his tip reached as far as it could. She gripped his shoulders, nails forming crescents, back arching as he picked up the pace. She wanted to hug him with her thighs, but his hands were sure to keep them open and spread for him. 

The sounds of their sticky skin crashing together blended with their moans and grunts, forming a delectable melody. She pulled him into an open-mouth sloppy kiss, humming. The bed rattled beneath them, his pace was dangerously close to cracking the frame. 

In a swift move, he pulled her up, so that she was straddling him. Their bare chests flushed together, her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering as she bounced on his cock. “I’m… fuck,” she breathed, unable to make the words as it hit her sweet spot. 

“Me too.” He slightly pushed her shoulders back, wanting to see her. His palm cradled her face, swallowing the thickness stuck in his throat. He knew he looked destroyed. He didn’t show how he felt often, but the pent up tension over the year had finally arisen. 

“G…Geralt!” She shouted as her walls closed around him, releasing her orgasm around him, resting her forehead on his chest as he continued to move her up and down. She clutched onto him as if she was about to float away. 

He threw his head back as his cock twitched, finishing, He thrusted through his climax, panting as he slowed to a halt. His senses were still high and could hear the fire still crackling in the den. He could feel her breathing still rugged and hot, sticking to his chest. 

She couldn’t see it but Geralt let a small smile briefly appear as he stroked her bare back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “Will you stay one more night?” 

He tilted his head, brows knitted together. “Are you still angry with me?” 

A mischievous glimmer crossed her eyes. “If I am, does that mean you’ll stay?” 

He snickered, placing a peck on her lips, lingering, scared if he were to break away she’d disappear. 

Angry or not, he was going to stay one more night.

[d0youc0py]

So, I have a request for angst, but with Young Reader, and they actually do call them an ask for help or a place to stay for a bit because of a nasty fight they got into with their parents and just need to leave the situation, perhaps they could have hid an injury(Welt, slap mark, bruising) from the boys only for boys to see it when they take off their coat/jacket. Its cool if you dont feel comfortable with this ask, you dont have to do it.

“Hey, John.” You started into the phone.

“You alright, Honey?” He questioned. You nearly rolled your eyes. The man had known you since you were as tall as his knee and could always tell when something was wrong.

“Not really.” You lied. You scrunched your face and took a deep breath. “Actually yeah- my mom came home in one of her moods again, but”-

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you.”

You could hear his car keys jingle on the other line and the familiar sound of his truck door slamming shut.

“I’m at the park down the street.”

“Hold tight, honey. I’ll be right there.”

It was about a fifteen minute wait. John lived all the way out in the country, another thing you loved about him. His truck pulled up and he quickly hopped out to open the door for you.

“Thanks John.” You sighed, giving him a quick hug.

“Course, honey. Now how about we go get some dinner, hmm?” He patted your back. It was gentle but enough to make you wince.

He took you to your favorite restaurant, the same one your father use to take you to. He sat across from you, not needing to look over the menu. His soft blue eyes trained on you.

“You ready to talk about it?” John asked. Your eyes peered up from behind the menu. You don’t know why you were even looking at it in the first place. You always ordered the same thing.

“Same old thing.” You responded, sifting in your seat.

“Don’t give me that, honey.” He pressed. “You’ve never called me before. I always hear about a fight after I’ve shaken you down.” He offered you a small smile. It’s wasn’t one of pity, but understanding. He’s always been there for you, so why won’t you just tell him the truth?

“Don’t get mad.” You whispered. John instantly faltered. It was a common cycle. When he was on leave he’d take you out at least two times a week. You’d tell him about some shitty thing your mom said to you and he’d race over to your house and threaten her to knock it off. She’d be on her best behavior for about a week, then the cycle would repeat itself. “Look you’re already upset.” You gave a fake chuckle.

“Honey.” He huffed. His eyes bore into yours with such intensity it made your tiny hairs stand up.

“It started off just like our fights always do. She started yelling and I just made my way to my room to bunker down for the night.” You stopped to take a small sip of your water.

“You locked the door?” John hummed. He had built you a special lock to go on your door.

“I didn’t make it that far.” You murmured, tears forming in your eyes. John’s hand reached across the table attaching to yours, giving you an encouraging squeeze. “She threw something at me.” You whispered.

“Threw something at you.” He repeated.

“I know it so stupid.” Your hands left his to paw at your eyes. You hated crying. His hands remained on the table giving you the option to return to him.

“She hurt you honey? That’s the furthest thing from stupid.”

“It was one of those ceramic cats she collects. It hit me in the back.” You gasped. You wouldn’t doubt if there was a large bruise forming as you spoke. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a little bit? Just till things cool down?”

“Honey, you could come live with me.” He assured. This wasn’t the first time he offered, but giving the increasing hostility your mother was showing this was the first time you really considered it.

“I don’t think I can just live with you, John. Isn’t that illegal- like kidnapping or something.” You sputtered.

“That’s not for you to worry about, honey. I’ll handle everything, just take some time and think about it.”

He woke up to the sound of glass shattering so loud it sounded like it was in his room. His body made quick work of throwing the covers off and heading towards his front door. He didn’t bother to shut his door behind him or throw on a pair of shoes. His body was already hot and shaking with anger. His fist pounded against your front door giving some warning of his presence before he used his shoulder to nearly split the door open.

He quickly found you on the floor your mother grabbing at your hair.

“Shit!” Your father yelled from the kitchen. Your father had been enjoying the whole spectacle of your mother tormenting you with a smile and a beer in his hand. Your mother look up at Simon, her own eyes growing wide with fear. He grabbed her by the arm throwing her backwards off of you.

“Who the fuck do you thi”- Your father started.

“Shut up and sit down.” Simon growled. Your father quickly obeyed siting down at the counter, your mother scurrying backwards to join him.

“Come on kid, on your feet.” He was soft with you, refusing to add anymore trauma to the situation. He wrapped an arm around your middle to steady you and you hid your face in shame.

“You can’t just take them. I’ll have the police dow”- Your father spoke up again.

“I told you to shut it. And what? You gonna call the police on me tough guy? Do it.” Simon spat. Your father piped down again the realization of his threat setting in. Simon led you out of your apartment and into his own. “Sit down, tell me where you’re hurt. Might need to take you to the hospital after that one, kid.”

The only way you could respond was through sobs. You practically threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. He sighed softly, not in contempt but in mercy. He wrapped a bulky arm around you, using your head as a chin rest. He related to you in all the worst ways.

“I don’t wanna go back.” You sobbed against him.

“I know you’re scared.” He said softly. “You’re gonna stay with me for a while, yeah? You have a key anyways might as well.”

He groaned as his phone went off from somewhere in his bed. He patted around, his eyes burning as the made contact with the blinding light.

Your face lighting up his phone ripped the drowsiness from his body.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” His voice was gruff and he cleared his throat.

“Mac.” You cried from the other end.

“Fuckin hell.” He growled. “Where are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry. They just started yelling at me and I got scared and now I don’t know what to do.” You sobbed.

“You did exactly what you were suppose to do. You called me. Now take a few breaths and tell me where you are. It’s late you shouldn’t be out by yourself.” He slipped his feet into his shoes and grabbed his keys from the entry table. He opened the door only to come face to face with you. His face scrunched as he took in your appearance. Your hair a mess, your face tear stained and you were shaking uncontrollably.

His heart dropped when he caught sight of a ruby colored mark on your cheek.

“That better not be what I think it is.” He gritted. You just cried harder. “Inside, now.” He snipped, making room for you brush past him.

“No, Mac please.” You sobbed. Your hands fled towards his arm and you leaned against him. You needed comfort. You needed assurance that everything was going to be okay.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. I can’t just let them get away with it Y/N.” He snarled. He gave you a kiss on the head. He began to pull his arm away but you just gripped him harder.

“Mac, please. I need you.” Your voice was soft. So weak and so vulnerable it made him stop dead in his tracks. “Please.” You whispered again. An apology flowed from his mouth and he quickly wrapped two strong arms around you, pulling you tight against him. You instantly relaxed.

“You’re right.” He murmured. “You’re safe now.”

“Ky, Can I stay with you please?”

You had asked him that a little over a week ago. He agreed immediately- perks of being one of his most favorite people on the planet. You didn’t really tell him why, just that you had gotten into a small ‘altercation’ with your parents.

That brings you to where you are today.

“If you don’t want me I can just leave Kyle.” You huffed, already collecting your things from the guest bedroom.

“Lovie, don’t do that!” He shouted after you. “My door is always open for you and you know that. I would just like to know exactly what happened. Considering you’re practically living with me now I think I have a right to know.” He explained. He grabbed the things out of your bag, hanging them up again.

“Kyle, stop! I’ve obviously overstayed my welcome. I’ll be out for your hair in no time.” You rubbed at your face harshly, trying to rid yourself of any tears.

“Y/N. Enough. Please stop.” His words were firm. It made you cry harder. “I didn’t mean to upset you so bad.” He assured. His hands came up and grabbed your wrists so he could get a better look at your face. He pulled you close to him. “I also need to know how upset I should be with your parents. If it’s really bad we need to get you out of there.” He explained. You sniffled, wiping at your face again.

It was then he saw it.

A deep purple bruise on your wrist. How didn’t you flinch when he grabbed it?

“That answers my question.” He sighed. You gasped and pulled your sleeves down. “Is that the only one?” He pressed. His fingers rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. He repeated his question.

You softly shook your head.

“I have one on my side too.” You sniffed.

“Y/N look at me please.”

You did as he requested.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to go back, okay? But I need you to be completely honest about everything, yeah?”

A small sob left you and you quickly wrapped your arms around him.

“I love you, Ky.”

[eevees-hobbies]

cockwarming with ren , he's impatient but when you're a brat? yeah no that's his favourite thing ever.

also I should probably sign off as an emoji :3 , so call me 💌 anon ! :P

💌 anon?! Welcome back <3 So, like, we’re official, right? I love that for us–I’ll tuck you away nicely in my pocket, and as long as you sign off for me, I’ll include your love letter emoji in my tag <3

So cockwarming, huh? With Kaji? Wow. I can see the vision, babe.

Content Warning: vindictive, manipulative brattyness, jealousy, just the tip, clit smacking, cockwarming, teasing, choking, begging, validation. Minors Do Not Interact.

You’ve been pushing Kaji’s buttons all day—first, by not responding to his text messages promptly, which resulted in palpitations on his end. Were you ok? Were you safe? He was ready to go on a rampage until you answered with a one-worded “K” that made his eyebrow twitch. He had sent you a link to a song you requested. What made you think responding “K” to I Prevail’s Body Bag was appropriate anyway? It’s a good fucking song! Deep breaths, Kaji…

Then you were being far too friendly with Sakura. He watched as you dragged your hand, which he kisses, along Sakura’s chest. And what the fuck were you laughing at? He’s not even funny. Even deeper breaths, Kaji…

And your worst crime? Your worst offense? Not getting up to hug him as he walked through the door. You stayed on your phone, silently laughing at some dumb cat video that was probably AI-generated! Sure, you smiled at him and said, “welcome home, Kaji,” But where the fuck was his hug?

While Kaji wonders what’s gotten into you, you’re silently rejoicing in delight as you sneak a look at your flustered boyfriend. The truth is, you know exactly what you’re doing. A riled-up Kaji is an absolute monster of a man in the bedroom.

So later that night, when you wiggle your ass enticingly against his crotch as he’s spooning you, you fully expect to be left a blubbering, crying, fucked-out mess.

But what you didn’t plan on was Kaji being onto you. As he lifts the slip of your nightgown and presses his dick against your already wet folds, slipping the tip in, you brace yourself in excited anticipation to accept the entirety of his girthy cock.

But you wait, and wait, and wait. 

You blink and look over your shoulder, ready to question him and his inactivity, but you're met with the meanest scowl you’ve ever seen. It makes you turn around quickly and bow your head.

“K-kaji?”

“What?”

“Um, you, um, just put the tip in?”

“And?”

And? And? And? The word repeats in your head as you realize that maybe you fucked up today. Maybe you pushed him a little too far. 

But perhaps you could just move a little to get things going? After all, this was your baby boy, and he couldn’t resist your charm-

“Move an inch, and I’ll pull out.”

You almost gasp at his tone, at his unwillingness to budge, at how hot he sounds when he reprimands you like this.

Kaji snakes an arm around your front, slipping it in between your breasts and locking his fingers around your throat. He moves closer to you, which gives you about half an inch more of his cock but not nearly enough to satiate you.

“You’ve been awful all day,” his fingers tighten around your throat, and you swallow thickly, hoping that the constraint of his hand around your windpipe gives you a good high.

“Kaji I-”

“You speak when I tell you to speak.”

Oh, god, fuuuuuuck.

You can’t help but pulse around his dick; the way his voice growls in your ear is heavenly.

Kaji, who is not an idiot by any means, narrows his eyes at your blatant show of arousal, “you wanted this.”

No shit.

You shake your head like a good little girl, though.

“Don’t lie to me.” His grip tightens around your throat, and in what feels like a ridiculously cruel overreaction, Kaji reaches around and delivers a swift smack to your clit.

You yelp and backtrack immediately, your voice hampered by the pressure he has around your neck, “O-ok! Yes!”

Silence befalls you, and you’re thankful that you can at least get your bearings to allow the burning sensation in your pussy to subside.

“I guess I should reward you for your honesty,” Kaji says rather quietly, but you pay no mind to the volume of his voice. You only hear him offer a sweet reward, which you hope is in the form of him finally splitting you open.

And to your absolute delight, Kaji pushes into you, stretching your lush, silky walls with firm, thick muscle. You tremble and brace again for more, but Kaji is not feeling merciful.

Instead, he stays like that, cock buried inside of you but unmoving, and it feels absolutely torturous.

But what can you do? You did this to yourself, so maybe you should think twice about acting like you have absolutely no good sense.

You rack your brain, thinking of what could put you back in his good graces. An apology? Gross, no. Begging? You’re not above it.

“Kaji,” you say carefully, “I really want you to fuck me. Like really badly, baby.”

You feel him twitch inside of you–your sweet voice hard to resist, and you know it, but petty is forever.

“I told you to stop talking.” Another swift slap is delivered to your aching and drooling mound, and tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes.

You feel shifting behind you, the sound of a drawer opening and the unmistakable sound of a wrapper being removed and candy knocking against teeth as Kaji places a sucker in his mouth.

You sniffle, realizing that he could most likely do this all night.

The sniffle you make earns you another twitch of his cock.

Sadistic bastard.

It feels like an agonizing amount of time before Kaji speaks again, “bounce back on my dick like a good girl.”

And you’re so eager to fulfill his request that without a second thought, you roll your hips, quickly jerking off his cock with your cunt. You can hear him groan, and it sounds like a melody in your ears—his vocal validation serving as a high you didn’t know you needed.

But between your bounces, you need something else from him that you so desperately crave. “Kaji,” you whine, “say sweet things to me, please.”

And if only you knew how hard it was for him to hold back sweet, loving words from you this entire time, perhaps you would have waited just a bit longer because he was going to break soon, anyway.

Kaji moans and places a hand on your hip. “My baby, I love you so much.”

There it is. 

“I love you too, Kaji. I love you so fucking much.”

And it’s like a dam breaks, your words giving way to thrusts that are now meeting your bounces, Kaji moaning things like, “this pussy is mine, right baby?” “I’ve missed you all day. Did you miss me?” “You feel so good. Fuck, bounce just like fucking that.”

And you agree loudly to anything and everything he says because it’s his, his, his. 

And you swear you can hear a whimper behind you, his grip on your hip almost painful as he pulls out so far that just the tip is inside you and thrusts forward, filling you back up again.

And as Kaji continues to fuck you, you can’t help but think that you ended up getting what you wanted anyway.

[lovelyjj]

"I want only you." with jj maybank from the prompt list ??

Jealousy

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.2k

JJ was going from girl to girl. He was having one-night stands. He was hooking up with every touron in sight. Truth be told JJ was trying to fill a void. He loved you and he was sure you didn’t love him back. He felt like he wasn’t good enough for you.

It was another party at some kooks house, how you and your friends, the pouges, got invited was a mystery. You were having fun dancing and drinking the usual partying scene.

You were getting yourself another drink when you saw him. You saw JJ talking to a girl that you didn’t know. You felt a pain in your chest at the sight. You didn’t know what was being said but you could bet 100 dollars that he was flirting with her.

The drink you got was a mai tai. It entered your system and made you a little buzzed. The idea of having to watch JJ flirt was nauseating. Therefore, you decided to wander upstairs.

You passed by a couple who was making out on the top of the stairs. You wandered down the hallway and tried a few doors but they were all locked. Eventually, finding nothing entertaining you decided to head back downstairs. As you turned around you were met with a hard chest.

“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t see-“ you started.

“Rafe.”

“Hiya princess, what’s a pretty girl like you doing up here all alone,” Rafe smirked.

“Nothing I was just looking for the bathroom,” you spoke quietly choosing to lie instead of telling him you were just wandering around.

“Second door on the left,” Rafe pointed.

“Hey and maybe when your done we could get you another drink!” Rafe shouted as you walked towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was nice but you didn’t want to be in there long. You simply did your business and walked back out to the party. Rafe was leaning against the wall, waiting for you.

“There she is!” Rafe gestured towards you outstretching his hands.

“Yeah yeah yeah so where’s this drink you promised?”

“Come with me,” Rafe put his arm around your shoulder and led you downstairs.

When you reached the kitchen, Rafe pulled out two mai tais from the cooler. He handed you one and whispered in your ear, “drink up.”

You did as you were told and before you knew it you were on your fourth. You were standing around talking to Rafe about random things when you see JJ racing towards you and Rafe.

He got right up in your face and started yelling.

“What the hell do you think your doing?!”

“Drinking,” you slurred.

“With Rafe?” JJ accused.

“Yeah with Rafe, you were too busy eye fucking that poor girl,” you spat.

“Right so you keeping tabs on me now?” JJ questioned.

“No but you have no right to be jealous when all you do is hook up with other girls,” you shouted.

“Oh that’s rich. I’m not jealous, I’m just surprised your hanging out with this kook.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I care. I care about you ok?! Is that so hard to believe? Rafe is bad news,” JJ yelled.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you pointed your finger at him. You went to take a step towards him but you lost your balance and fell forward. JJ caught you thankfully.

The proximity of you and JJ got you flustered. The alcohol already was making you flushed you didn’t need to increase it. You could smell the alcohol on JJ’s breath, it was hitting your face.

“Thanks,” you acknowledged for catching you.

“No problem,” he breathed.

“If your little cat fight is over, I wasn’t done talking to y/n,” Rafe cut in.

“You know what Rafe, be my guest. Screw this I’m out of here. Hang out with whoever you want,” JJ stormed off leaving you drunk on his aroma. The few seconds that you were that close to him left you feeling dizzy.

“I’m glad that we’re finally alone,” Rafe expressed.

“Thanks for the drinks but I have to go,” you spoke quickly.

You wanted to find JJ and talk to him anything to continue to be around him but you had no luck. He was gone. You wondered if he found a girl to go home with. You hope not.

Kiara was the one who got you home safely because you were too drunk to do so yourself and you tried asking her about JJ but she knew nothing. When you finally made it to your room, you went to bed that night hoping JJ’s jealousy was real and that he wasn’t hooking up with a girl tonight.

——————

You woke up with a terrible hangover. You had a bad headache and you were feeling nauseous. You wanted to hide under the covers and never come out.

The day was bright and sunny, making you cringe from all the light. The headache you had didn’t help. You were sensitive from the light due to your hangover.

You want to check your phone and realized you had a text from JJ.

JJ: can we please talk?

Y/N: yeah I guess so.

JJ: come to the château.

The walk over to the château wasn’t that bad but your head was pounding. JJ was outside waiting for you.

“Hey you came!?” JJ stated.

“Yep.”

“Ok just listen and let me speak first,” JJ demanded.

You nodded your head.

“About the party, seeing you with Rafe made me really angry. I was super jealous and I know I have no right to be jealous but I was. I wanted to punch the living daylights out of him for even looking in your direction. You make me feel things I never thought I would feel. I think I’m better with you in my life, and I love you.” JJ finished.

You were shocked by his speech, you didn’t expect him to say that at all. You stood there thinking how to respond to that with JJ looking at you for an answer.

“How will I know that you’re loyal?” you asked.

“I want only you,” JJ replied.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes, I mean every word. No girl could ever compare to you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So all those girls you were with mean nothing to you?” you raised a brow.

“I was only with those girls because I thought you would never love me back. I was being stupid and careless.” JJ explained.

“It really hurt me to see you with them.”

“So you were jealous?” JJ smirked.

“What No i- maybe,” you pondered.

JJ laughed and you were excited to see him so happy.

“Listen JJ I’ve always loved you,” you started.

JJ let out a sigh of relief, like he was holding his breath waiting for you to tell him that you love him.

“Good.”

“Can i kiss you i’m dying over here.” JJ pleaded.

“Yes.”

JJ grabbed your face and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was heated and frantic. You were relieved that he was kissing you. JJ was eager. Your lips were crushing together. JJ’s blood was rushing through his veins. JJ’s hands were cupping your cheek.

When the kiss was over both of your were smiling.

“Come back here,” JJ spoke.

You grinned into the second kiss. JJ moving one hand to your waist to pull your body closer to his. The other hand moved to your neck.

When it was over you were both breathing heavy.

“it’s just you and me against the world.” JJ acknowledged.

“Yep.”

[sleepyfan-blog]

Aranea posuere ultricies

Author’s note: this fic has been inspired by @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond ‘s pocket titus sketches! Please check out her art! Thank you for letting me write this

Warnings: spiders, spider-killing, please ask me to tag if something bothers you/I missed it

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Summary: You acquire a small but fierce protector

You were fumbling with the keys to your front door, holding them in hand as you try to unlock your front door. As you attempt to put the key inside the lock, a large black spider slides down a hair-thin spider silk thread, nearly landing in your face.

You let out a startled shriek of surprise, stumbling backwards as fear and panic grip you. Your heart hammering in the back of your throat and adrenaline causing your body to tremble and freeze as you try to figure out what to do.

The black spider twists on the thin string of spider silk, revealing a bright red hourglass marking on it's abdomen.

More anxiety fills you as you clock that this is a venomous spider - one that could make you quite ill, if it bit you.

The best thing to do would be to somehow non-lethally move this Black Widow away from your door and place it somewhere in your garden... But you have no way of doing so without having to get into your home first...

Which would mean dodging the spider still dangling at eye level. You swallow dryly, still struggling to figure out what to do (and a small part of you feeling very silly about your panic) but you didn't want the spider to potentially crawl onto you, if you tried to dodge around it in order to get into your home.

Before you could make a decision, you felt a pair of tiny but heavy pair of feet land on one of your shoulders before the unexpected weight left you just as quickly.

A tiny Astartes yelled out what he clearly thought was a fierce battle cry "COURAGE AND HONOR!" as he swung a teeny-tiny hammer at the abdomen of the black widow that had been menacing you.

The blow struck true and spider guts splattered over several square inches of your front door.

You unfroze in time to carefully catch the little blue and gold colored tiny Astartes before he fell the rest of the way to the ground - or left a dent in your front door. "Thank you, my lord, for rescuing me." You murmur, having heard from co-workers and online posts how to best appease these tiny but fierce warriors.

The Astartes squeaks and wriggles in your hands in surprise "unhand me, mortal! I must continue my duties."

"As you wish. I was concerned about the fall relative to your size. Would you like something to eat in thanks for rescuing me?" You ask, carefully setting the tiny warrior down on the ground.

He stares up at you through his helmet for several seconds before answering "... Food would be most welcome... And I have fallen further than this. Your concern is..." he hesitates for a couple of moments before continuing "Welcome but unnecessary. Food would be gratefully accepted. I have not eaten in some time."

You nod, unlocking and opening your front door "After you." You murmur, not wanting to accidentally step on him "Unless you'd grant me the honor of carrying you to the kitchen?"

The small marine looked at your entryway, tensing as your cat - a loveable and very chatty coal black cat came trotting up to where you and he were standing with his usually creaky "Mreau!"

"I would like to be carried. Ideally on one of your shoulders, or in a hand or a chest pocket." The tiny marine declares, his helmet still pointed in your cat's direction.

Dixie sniffed curiously at the Astartes, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth.

You bend down and place one hand next to the marine so that he could climb up at his own pace. You reach out with your other hand to pet Dixie "Easy there, Dix. No mischief with our guest." And now you realize that you had yet to ask for the Astartes' name... Or give your own. "Would you like to share your name with me?" You give him your name "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier." You add.

"... I am Lieutenant Demetrian Titus of the Ultramarines Second Company." Titus answers after a few moments of hesitation. He removes his helmet, revealing a weathered and scarred but kind (and handsome) face with soulful greenish-blue eyes and short brown hair that frame his face. He climbs up onto your hand.

You set him on one of your shoulders and quickly move through your home to your kitchen. You set the lieutenant down on your kitchen counter before starting to rummage through the fridge, asking "Is there anything in particular you'd like? I have some left-over taco stuff, pasta with spaghetti, sandwich fixings... I also have some Ice cream and cookies, if you prefer something sweeter."

"I am unfamiliar with those food items. Astartes can eat nearly anything..." The little being answered, shifting a little as he answered "But I have been traveling for some time, and a hot meal would be a welcome indulgence."

You nod and grab two bowls as you're hungry too. You make sure that the bowl for the lieutenant is shallower so that he can better reach inside of it. A quick couple of minutes in the microwave and both bowls of food are steaming hot.

Titus ate quickly shoving handfuls of pasta and sauce into his mouth with his armored gauntlets "This is delicious, thank you."

You hum and smile "I'm glad you like it. Would you like some water to wash it down? I'm about to get myself some water, anyways."

"Water would be helpful. I need to clean my armor, as well as drink." Titus answers, before focusing once again on the food.

~

Weeks had passed and Titus, while he regularly wandered off, had become a regular member of your household.

Currently you were holding him in one hand, having helped the Astartes reach one of the insects encroaching on your property.

He looked so adorably pleased with himself you couldn't help it. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring "Thank you, for saving me from these awful bugs, Demetrian. Your swift movements and firm strikes slew the enemy handily."

Demetrian blushed, tucking his chin to his armored chest as he hands came up, flailing a little "I... I am merely doing my duty..."

"And you do it well, my lovely Angel." You earnestly compliment.

The Astartes blushes more and looks away from your face at your words, clearly struggling to regain his composure.

You chuckle softly and kiss the top of his head, murmuring "Too much praise, my knight-savior?"

"Yes... But... I... I crave it as well. I must... I must atone for this sin." Titus mumbled, still not looking up at you.

"... It's not a sin to enjoy the praise you get, Demetrian." You point out gently.

The tiny Ultramarine in your hand huffs a little before settling into your hand, mumbling in a language that you do not know, still blushing.

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (18)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, mentions of masturbation with a plushie, jealous Bucky

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (17)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky is fuming. Not only did you break his rules to not touch yourself; no, you did it in front of one of the hidden cameras, smiling into the camera while riding one of your plushies. A big bear you named Bucky Bear.

“Bucky bear makes me feel so good,” you whimper on the footage as you rub yourself against the plushie. “Always so good. If only the real Bucky was here to watch us doing naughty things.”

“DOLL!” Bucky calls for you, but you remain in the bedroom. You giggle because he calls you a naughty doll. “I told you not to touch yourself!”

“You told me many things! As long as you treat me like a dangerous criminal you must lock away, I’ll ride fluffy Bucky Bear, not you.”

Bucky laughs. He believed you’re a shy and sweet girl, when in reality you’re a naughty devil in disguise. Bucky shakes his head when your moans on the footage get louder.

“She’s a naughty girl, Alpine,” he says to himself. His cat is occupied elsewhere. The white furball is currently curled in your side to get some cuddles. Bucky looks around the room, huffing, as his cat is nowhere to be seen. “Alpine, punk. Don’t get all cozy with her. She deserves punishment.”

“So do you,” you reply, and snuggle into the pillow. “Alpine is such a good companion. At least they didn’t leave me all alone, with only cat food and water.”

Bucky sighs deeply. He should be in charge and correct your behavior, but he doesn’t have it in him to punish you for breaking his rules. You’re not wrong.

Bucky doesn’t trust you yet, afraid you’ll leave him. Sooner than later, everyone left him. Even his best friend. Steve Rogers. He promised Bucky till the end of the line but left to live his life with some girl he met during the war.

Sometimes Bucky believes Steve left because he realized his old friend was long gone. Maybe Steve knew that his friend was broken beyond repair and ran for the hills.

He shakes his head. No. Steve deserved his happy ending. Even if that means leaving his best friend behind, this world has a new Captain America now.

It’s time for Bucky to find his own life and happy ending. He stops the footage and decides to fix what he messed up.

“Doll, I’m sorry,” he kicks off his shoes and takes off his pants to join you on the bed. He snuggles close to you and runs his hand over your head. “I know you came with me willingly. I’m just so scared that you’ll leave me too.”

“No,” you hastily reply, and you move closer to hide your face in Bucky’s chest. He wraps his arms around you to hold you tightly. “I gave up my whole life to be with you, Bucky. I left my job, home, and freedom behind to come here. I didn’t know what awaited me when I got with you, but I knew, I’ll be safe.”

“I’ll always keep you safe, Y/N,” Bucky murmurs. He nuzzles your hair and sighs as you relax in his embrace. “I thought about what you said too. You’re right. I can’t keep you here like a caged bird.”

“We must be careful,” you murmur and kiss his chest. “My colleague reported me missing. If anyone sees me... they could call the cops. I don’t want them to take me away.”

“You’re right again.” Bucky nods. “What should we do now? I didn’t think so far. I only wanted to grab you and bring you here.”

You giggle. “Bucky, you’re an awful kidnapper.”

“I did a great job,” he grumbles. “You’re here, with me. That’s all that matters to me, Y/N. Consequences be damned.”

“What if I email my former boss, telling them I quit? Maybe I can pretend that I’m in Paris or having a sunbath on an exotic island. What do you think?”

“Photoshop,” Bucky hums. “A great invention if you need to fake being elsewhere. We can create some photos and send them to your colleague or boss. You just upped and left to have an extended vacation.”

“That sounds good to me,” you whisper his name while running your hand over his chest. “I’ll send an email, telling my boss I quit. At the same time, I’ll post fake pictures of my extended vacation on social media.”

“Do you think this will work out? I mean, maybe you should stay hidden.” Bucky wonders if it’s a good idea to post fake pictures on social media. He spent so many years hidden in the shadows that stepping into the light seems to be dangerous to the former assassin.

You snuggle into his chest, ignoring his questions. “I don’t know. Let’s get some sleep for now. We can think about a plan tomorrow. Only if you don’t lock the kitchen cabinets again.”

“I unlocked them, doll,” Bucky assures you once again. “This will never happen. This is your home now, not a prison. I want you to feel welcome and happy.”

“With you around, I’m happy,” you whisper his name and close your eyes. “All I wanted since I first saw you was to be with you.”

Part 19

Tags in reblog.

[laviechuchu]

Omfgffggff I js found u through the nerd guy fic and I'm obsessed!!!

Ik we are all not so sane here so,,,

If I can request a silly rebellious reader and stepdad punishing the reader for hanging out with good for nothing guy friends with skimpy outfits

:3 Thanks!!! ( You don't need to do ... this is straight up crazy ik lol )

Author’s note: AHH HELLOOO IM SO HAPPY!!! AND OFC SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT!

Content below: use of y/n, AFAB reader, brat taming, punishment, use of nicknames such as babygirl, pet, cheating?, stepcest, minor writing smut, bratty reader, cigars, reader is 18+, dubcon.

Proceed to read..

“Ugh i told you, pick me up tomorrow. My stepdad is coming and i wanna act long enough so i can take some money from him. Then you and cain and me can have some fun! You bring the alcohol!” You giggle as you lay down in your very pink and girly room. The teddy bear your stepfather gave you for your birthday just slumping onto your pillows

You giggle as your best friend starts to ramble about how fun tomorrow will be and starts to ask the real questions “your stepdad is hot! Not gonna lie, i mean! Hes a silver fox!” She squeals as you gag “yuck no! Live with him for a day and you’ll see how controlling and bossy he is” you mumble.

The laptop was still on video call as you roll around on your bed. You sigh as suddenly you hear a doorbell “shit! Be right back!” You yell and slam your laptop closed.

Your feet scramble to the door and open the wood separating you and your money machine.

“Daddy! Welcome home” you giggle and hug him. Ugh disgusting…he smells like his cologne and smoke. He looks at you with disinterest and lets out a low hum. His eyes looking at your perked nipples from your lack of bra.

“Have you been studying? As i told you? I gave you two weeks” he says, pulling away from the hug. What the fuck? Does he have a stick up his ass or something?

Oh yeah about that “ah… yup!” You say with a lopsided grin, batting your eyelashes at the older man. He seems to see right through you but you dont really care, all you need is a few hours and his money and then you can meet your friends-

“Yeah? Ill be testing you tonight.” He says bluntly and starts to head to the kitchen to get dinner for himself.

“Well… im heading out cain and nicole” you say, a little more happily then you mean to. He takes out a cigar and looks at you dead in the eyes. “No.” He states bluntly “wearing a skirt that short? Thigh highs? And what is this..” he comes closer to you your chest almost just almost reaching his. He pinches at your left nipple “a flimsy piece of cloth, that you little ones call a top.”

You yelp and cover your chest “why the hell were you looking?”

“Im your father, and you are not going out like that, with your so called boyfriend who only wants you for your body” he states. Grabbing the back of your top like a cat would.

He goes to his office and throws you on the chair and locks the door

“Question one, look at the fucking paper. A, B, C or D?” He loosens his tie and undoes his pants. Sitting you on his lap “the faster you finish the faster ill let you go” he says putting his cigar down.

“Fuck! I dont know? B?” You say, you feel something warm against your cunt. You unconsciously grind on the feeling “bad girl” he says as he pulls your panties aside and shoves the tip inside. You feel the slight burn and you tear up. Sick motherfucker is gonna rape you?

He grabs your waist and shoves everything inside in one go. No lube no nothing. Just raw fucking cock.

You yell and cry “fuck you! You sick piece of shit” you attempt to get off his lap when he pushes you on your chest. His heavy balls against your clit.

“Its okay babygirl.. you dont need to use your smooth brain anymore” he whispers in your ear. Slowly moving in and out of you “you can be my personal pet from now on” his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit. You moan gently, your eyes tearing up at the smell of your stepdad the one you used to love but now.. you’re not sure anymore

“Daddy…d-daddy” you mumble dumbly, his cock slipping in and out of you. Your feet barely touch the floor “im sorry baby, this is your punishment” he says before his pace becomes faster and faster. You squeal and try to hold on to him. Your pussy squelches and pulses. Your ass connecting to his hips.

“D-daddy!” You cry. The swirls on your clit becoming faster yet precise “becoming a dumb little girl already? Poor thing… must have been so pent up” he coos, your brain is turning into mush as your legs shake from the pounding. Your cunny fluttering around him, be groans “ah fuck…”

His hand that was once on your clit, now on your nipple. Tweaking them just painful enough for you to keep your sanity in check. “Need a new piercing on your nipples now. Maybe my initials?” He teases.

“I-im gonna cum” you manage to mumble out. The wet skin slapping is making your brain fuzzy “daddy.. i need your cum” you say your tongue lolling out, awaiting his tongue.

He smirks at your now dumb form and gives a few more thrusts but pulls out at the last second.

“Maybe after you get the questions right” he says his gentle smile making you feel warmer.

(SORRY THIS IS BAD ILL WORK ON IT BETTER SOON ENOUGH, I WAS MEANT TO PUT THIS IS DRAFTS BUT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT)

[diejager]

I love your writings so much, I just can't get enough of it!

In Fantasy, where reader was transported into Simon's world, and left pregnant, what if their child got into the same accident as reader and fell into a broken portal that sent the kid to Simon's world, and discovered the truth, placing piece by piece together and found out how they were made. The kid having a hard time choosing between his mom or dad, your choice on what happens when he chooses one of them, or the both of them.

I just can't get enough! You write stuff that's better than any I've ever read before!

I… I’ve been meaning to post Fantasy pt2, but I’m not super proud of it so I’ve been stalling a lot..

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, past rape, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, locked away, isolation, tell me if I missed any.

They thought it was only a rumour, a little tale spun by people to explain their birth. You - their caring and loving mother - had always sang about them being a miracle, a gift that the universe had given you. It made them feel better, made them feel loved and graced, but there was always a growing curiosity, a nagging feeling that grew by every passing year. You always called them “my little miracle” and they never grew out of it, loving the soft lull of your voice and the affectionate tone you used. 

You named them Gwyneth, Tracer had given you the idea, but they often went with Gwyn, a shorter and easier name to say. Gwyn knew you loved them, adored them to the moon despite your busy schedule and life while fighting against Talon and Null Sector, but they’d seen the melancholic stare you gave them when you thought they weren’t looking at you, a sad and despondent gaze. It served to fuel Gwyn’s curiosity, driving them further and further down a hole of mystery and unanswered questions that they just knew you wouldn’t answer. Your pained grimace and slight tremble told them much, the strong and dependable mother that loved them shrinking into themselves and shuddering. It hurt them to see you like that.

That gear malfunction seemed to have sent them elsewhere, away from home and away from you, thrusted into a strange world and lost in the unknown. They were somewhere in England, some place in Manchester from what the maps they found told them, sharing the same street names and landmarks as the Manchester they visited in their world. Yet somehow, somehow, they found a man so familiar with them - suspiciously so - who had frantically asked hundreds of questions about you. 

There was a certain familiarity in the man, but they were apprehensive about how desperate he was, spewing information about himself and your time with him. He’d convinced them enough to make a trip to a military base to have his DNA taken, tested and matched, and Gwyn was… was shocked, they didn’t know if they were simply surprised or terrified. 

If this man - their father - who presented himself as Simon Riley, a dead man, said the truth about how he loved you and cared for you. The stories he shared about your relationship, from the days where he met you at the cafe you worked, your bright and bubbly smile lighting his days, to the lovesick gleam when he continued on to the nights at the bar, drinking and laughing. It sounded all so embellished, prettily drawn to stifle any suspicion from Gwyn, but if Simon was telling the truth, why were you so afraid of telling them who their father was, the way you met him or the time spent by his side?

Perhaps the truth was better left unsaid, left to collect dust and forget, but they had never been one to give up on something, Gwyn was a being of perseverance and curiosity, much like a cat. Maybe it would have saved them the heartache and trauma to uncover something as dark as the locked basement in Simon’s house. Gwyn couldn’t have known, they couldn’t, they simply followed their intuition and everything that Simon had strung up cracked, shattered and fell apart.

It was an… easy decision to make, to leave a broken man who had nearly broken their mother out of desperation and obsessive love, a deep-seated corruption of his being that scared them. Gwyn wanted to return home and embrace you, wrap their arms around your shoulder and sob out their horrible discovery, to apologise for something they hadn’t done but had been the result of. If only Gwyn could find a way back.

[doberbutts]

hello jaz, i'd like your opinion on something. i'm seeing a lot of dog trainers online go on about the benefits of crating in regards to making sure dogs are getting enough sleep and to always crate them when asleep. the numbers i see thrown around are 12-14 but more commonly 16-18. i have certainly seen a lot of improvement when i make sure my adolescent is getting enough sleep, but she is not crate trained (its really rare where im from) a lot of the advice on making sure the dog is settling is to isolate the dog, cover the crate in a different room and avoid coming anywhere near it, basically pretend they dont exist. im finding it really hard to justify locking up a social animal for 16-18 hours a day without any interraction. i specifically got a dog after years of having a cat (he was really sweet and loved companionship but it didnt hit the same spot as having a dog), as i like how engaged they are with you and seek interraction, it just feels unfair. am i antropomorphizing? is it not that big of a deal if they're properly enriched and excercised? what are your thoughts on this as a dog trainer and someone who had a dog with medical issues related to excessive crating?

Oh oh oh oh I had a very long conversation with a few good friends who are dog trainers about this one.

Now before I start, I do have to say that I do support crate training and in fact have crate trained the majority of my dogs, with Fenris being the sole exception and even he is, hmm, half crate trained at this point and we're working on the rest.

First of all 18 hours is an astronomical number, personally I think 12 hours is excessive. Life shoved in a small box for literally half the day is sort of miserable. I now work 10 hour shifts with an hour commute and so my dogs *are* left home for 12 hours at a time- however I have made a lot of changes to the way I contain them to prevent this exact scenario. Sushi is loose, the chihuahuas are crated together in something that is roughly the size of a typical x-pen or they're left loose in my bathroom (where it is easier to clean up Tater's incontinence), and Fenris is also sectioned off in my foyer again a space the size of a typical x-pen. Sometimes I leave Sushi in there with him because he seems comforted by her presence and ability to play with him if he's bored, other times she seems kind of done managing his energy on her own so I give her the run of the house to give her a bit of a break.

And, I will say, based on the camera I have looking in at them, the dogs mostly sleep the whole day. The last two days most of the peeks in during a motion alert have revealed someone getting up for a drink of water and then plopping back down on their bed. Or getting a toy or chew to bring back to their bed. Or getting up to stretch and laying back down. So, while I feel bad that I leave them alone for that long, it's also not like they're doing much in my absence.

However to me it is less about the crate and more about the ability to perform natural behaviors. As said, the dogs get up and have a drink of water, stretch, maybe wrestle if they're sectioned off two-by-two, or grab a toy or chew (or blanket to suck in the case of Fenwen), which are all things they could do in a large enough crate. It is also why, once my dogs are house trained, I keep them in crates far bigger than recommended so they can have a bit more space to move around. This is, of course, easier with the chihuahuas who weigh a combined 8lbs than with the 100lb mountain dog. Or they can be loose if they're nondestructive and won't soil my floors.

However I also think that it becomes really difficult when we talk about how dogs are social creatures. Like it or not, by leaving them alone for 8+ hours every day, we are dooming single dog households to a lifetime of solitary confinement. Whether the dogs are in a crate or not, we are leaving a social creature alone for the majority of our waking hours. So I think it is important, if you don't have multiple dogs or rotating work schedules with all the humans in the house, to make sure and fill the gaps as much as possible. I think if you are home your dog should be out of confinement and also hanging out with you. I think you should deliberately try to interact with your dog while you are home, whether that's just petting as you do something else or taking them for a walk or whatever.

I mentioned that Fenris is not fully crate trained despite being nearly a year and a half. This is because he can open just about anything that doesn't require thumbs, including crate doors. And he has broken himself out of 3 separate crates, and broke 2 teeth in the process the last time he broke out. I have been slowly re-introducing the crate ever since, and now he is calm and quiet in a jumbo sized Great Dane crate (read: two sizes up from what is recommended for him) with a bed, a sucky blanket, a toy, a chew, and his EDM music box for about 4ish hours at a time. This is a big win for us because he used to not even tolerate a few minutes despite me following all of the same rules and advice I have followed for all of my other successfully crate trained dogs.

I noticed fairly early on that he is happiest when contained in a larger area with a friend. So my foyer and Sushi became the sacrifice until I either can convince him to tolerate longer than half days or can trust him left loose in my house. He did figure out how to open the gate a few weeks ago and promptly murdered my 32 year old snake plant (and destroyed a tupperware container left on my counter, and shredded my mail also from my counter, and pulled a book off my bookshelf to shred, and chewed on my camera but it does still work at least), so clearly he is not trustworthy as of just yet. I have added a locking mechanism that requires thumbs, he fiddled with it the first day I installed it and has left it alone since.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Questioning

:3 We are back! And The chaos? The chaos is getting closer and closer. @spotaus

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Lets see how good Crop and Straw are at improv.

*----------------*

Hello Journal.

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I was already asleep when I got home.

Yesterday was fun! We did some of the last preparations for the grapes for the colder months and after that we went to Ccino’s!

Ccino had once again locked up shop so it was just us six in there! He also made this amazing new cupcakes for us to try and eat. They were really good. After the snack we went to relax with the cats.

Killer quickly got covered by cats and I think dad couldn’t be happier. He just laid there smiling and unmoving. Cross reassured me that he is fine.

I hugged my own cat version for a while and my dad’s cats also came over to sit and cuddle with me. They all also checked on kitten me before starting to snuggle with me.

It was nice to see my dads relax as well. Just relaxing and making small talk. It is always nice to be at Ccino’s.

It took me a while but I eventually found my old cat in the cupboard behind the counter.

My old cat is still tired a lot and I really wanted to help him. I remembered that we all figured that he is connected to the apples instead of me anymore. And well… the doctors told me that I no longer really use the apple magic anymore as my own magic had seemed to take it back.

So… I may have tried to… give whatever apple magic I had left over to the cat.

My dads weren’t amused. Ccino wasn’t happy either.

The cat is fine! He is a lot more energetic and stronger again! The tails move more and everything!

Tiny downside… euh… the scars on my skull are now permanently visible. Which caused quite the bit of panic with Ccino.

So I may be slightly grounded now. Not allowed to leave the nest and everything. We already went by Fauna for a quick exam but she said I am fine. That the ‘invasive’ magic is all gone. But she worries that my normal magic can’t do it all by itself.

So I need to take it easy again. Which all circles back to me being grounded.

Which means I am not allowed to help around the farm or house at all and I am once again limited from walking.

I don’t mind it. I feel fine if only a bit tired. But now the old cat version of me is fine at least!

Oh. Dad just ran in and he is calling for a meeting.. I wonder what is going on. I will give you an update later.

NM.

--

Crop blinks as he hears his old name shouted. He shoots Straw a look and Straw looks confused as well before both turn around. Crop feels his soul lock up. That… That are Blue and Dream.

Oh no. They have found them?! How?

Straw frowns but shoots him a look and looks thoughtful.

Blue stops before them and grins “Hi Sans. Hi Papyrus!”

Crop sees his brother grin and Straw answers “Hello mysterious person who knows our names yet we do not know.” and he waits.

Blue laughs and nods “Yeah sorry for that. I am just exciting as we have been looking for you guys!” Dream joins them and looks so relieved.

Crop sends his bro a look and Straw sees it.

Straw hums and puffs up his chest “Of course you were looking for me! I am an amazing farmer and many people wish to hear my advice! I have many admires across the globe!”

Blue looks shocked before holding up his hands “Oh no! Not that! We just have some questions which we hope you two can help us with.”

Crop gives a nod “Farming stuff I guess? There are different type of farms and we don’t know about all of them.”

Dream smiles “Can we go somewhere a bit more… private? People are staring.”

Yeah. Crop is not surprised. He can see people keep an eye on them and glaring at the two new arrivals. But saying no would just look more suspicious and like they are trying to hide something.

Seems like Straw made the same conclusion as he cheerfully agrees and they go to the parking lot to talk as it is usually rather quiet. As Straw points things out to the two Crop quickly grabs his phone to check. Only to see about twenty messages all warning him about the strangers in town. Woops. He should check his phone more often. That is a problem for later. For now he quickly finds the guys number and calls them quickly.

It rings twice before Horror picks up “Hello? Horror speaking.”

Crop needs to be vague but still obvious “Hey! I am a bit delayed in town. Some new skeletons walked into town and they are asking for some advice. We will still be in time for lunch!”

Dead silence on the other side before a soft thanks is muttered and Horror hangs up.

Crop just nods to himself as he speaks “Nah it shouldn’t take long. At least.” he acts as if he keeps the mouth piece covered as he looks at Blue and Dream “You two don’t need our help for long right? I had lunch planned with some friends.”

Blue and Dream share a look but shake their skulls.

Crop nods and puts the phone back to the side of his skull “Yeah it shouldn’t take long. Yeah no worries Tori I will be there in time for lunch. See you later.” And he ‘hangs up’.

Dream looks deeply disappointed when he hears Toriel’s nickname and Blue pats his shoulder. Yeah that is what Crop figured.

Straw smiles brightly at the two “What can we help you with! I must admit I haven’t heard of anyone new moving into town!”

Blue shakes his skull “Oh no we aren’t moving in. Just.. looking.” He looks at Dream and waits.

Dream takes a deep breath and smiles “I am Dream, this is Blue, we are looking for my brother and his… friends.”

Crop takes special care to keep his face neutral as he listens.

Dream rubs his arm “It is nothing negative! We. I mean I…” he frowns and thinks “I made stuff into a mess and I need to talk with him.”

Straw tilts his skull “I mean… Why don’t you just call him? If you are brothers you probably have each other’s numbers right?”

Dream looks away pained “It… is a bit more complex than that… Euh…” He and Blue look at each other and share some looks and nods before Dream turns back to them after taking a deep breath “Ever heard of the multiverse theory?”

Crop and Straw share a look. The only reason they both know about it is because Horror took great effort to explain it all after his first stay with them and after he just disappeared again one day.

They both shake their skulls. Dream looks slightly more panicked before shaking his skull and breathing “Well… It is a theory that each decision we make is a branching point. And that one decision leads to one future and the other to another. And that while we pick one, the other future still exists. This is much bigger and complex to easily explain but it means that at any point in time there can be a thousand different you’s going through different things because of different choices, made by you or for you by others.”

They both give a nod.

Dream smiles and points between Blue and himself “We are from other universes. Where everything is so different that you wouldn’t even think we are similar. Blue is actually also Sans but from another universe and timeline.”

Blue laughs and shrugs “I go by Blue to make it easier.”

Dream nods.

Crop gives a slow nod “Okay… say we believe you and not that we think you should go to the hospital. Why are you looking for us?”

Straw hums and gives the thoughtful comment “Would explain why they know our names.”

Dream looks nervous “I am from a very strange universe and a lot happened. I have a twin brother and I am looking for him. We had… a fallen out and I realised some things I didn’t know before. I want to talk with him and apologise.”

That… surprises Crop but he can’t help but not believe it “Really? You want to apologise? Look. I don’t know you and for all I know you are just trying to get sympathy points.”

Dream shakes his skull “I am not! I swear I am not!” he reaches into his bag and takes out a bunch of papers. A sneak inside shows that there are many more likewise paper packages in there. Dream pushes it into Straw’s hands and straw starts to curiously look through it.

Dream rubs his hands “I just… Blue managed to figure out that at least my brother’s friends visited this place. Have you seen any other skeletons?”

Crop doesn’t bother to answer as Straw nudges the papers into his hands. Crop starts reading it and stares. This… this is huge. The others. They need to know this.

Dream just keeps staring at them. Waiting.

Fuck. What does he say?

Straw is the one to answer “We don’t have an answer for you. Not yet.”

Blue looks up hopefully and grins “That just means you know something!”

Straw shakes his skull “No. It means we know nothing about you and no matter what we say will give you some kind of information that we are not comfortable giving you. So we are not giving you any answer. We need to look through this information and get it verified before we can even start to make a decision. You are invading our lives and demanding our assistance without even giving us a chance to consider the options. You will leave and leave us be until we considered what this could mean for us.”

Blue looks down and ashamed as Dream rubs his arm “Right… of course… I just… I really want-”

Straw huffs “Yes. You want something. And apparently you have no problem destroying someone’s whole world view and turning up someone’s entire existence to get it. Did you think that maybe we didn’t even want to know about all this universe stuff? That we were happy with our lives? That we didn’t want to be forced to consider these things? You are forcing our hand to think about these things. The least you can do is give us time to consider it all.”

Blue and Dream both flinch but both nod.

Straw nods “And stop trying to force others to consider these life changing things. Leave us be.” He holds out a hand “Give us a phone number to call once we considered this.”

Blue nods as he writes down the number. Still clearly embarrassed.

After which they both apologise and agree they shouldn’t have gone about it the way they did before leaving them.

Crop whistles when they leave “Good quick thinking Straw.”

Straw looks proud “Thank you! It helped that they just started explaining things without even considering what it could mean and do to us. A good way to shift the focus. At least for a short while…” he stares at the papers in his hands “We need to get this to them.”

Crop nods “Lets make sure they aren’t following us before we meet them. Then we can discuss it all together.” he frowns “Also make sure to get a feel for what they said to others.” And both quickly rush off to speak with their neighbours.

*----------------*

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[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Middle & What's In Between

Elks Chapter 3 Version 2.0

Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: You complete your mural for Joel as your feelings for him grow even stronger, and he might just feel the same way for you. Chapter Warnings: mention of child loss, first kiss, joel being ridiculously soft and touching your cheek a lot, spilled paint water (my enemy), cursive and brand new cd mentions (i'm writing what i know folks), like, zero drama at all, i'm sorry i'm so adverse to writing angst when it comes to jackson joel. Words: 3,700 Header courtesy of @saradika-graphics

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Masterlist Playlist

“The Recluse” by Cursive. 

The rain still falls on Friday, puddles grow in size and make everyone’s shoes soaked. Your students are grumpy with the canceled patrol training, and your own patience quickly dissipates due to the anticipation of going back to Joel’s house. 

You ring your bell to signal the end of the day. Your students are quick to all file out of the room–all except for Ellie, who lingers. 

“Saw what you’re doing at Joel’s,” she says, a small smile tugging at her upper lip, “I like it a lot.”

“Thanks. I figured I’d run into you while I was there. Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been hanging in the garage. Joel ‘n I just got it all set up for me. Thought I’d give you and him some time alone.” 

“...Time alone?” 

“Yup. You know, alooooone time.” 

“Ellie. Come on now. Stop. I’m painting a freakin’ mural for him.”

“Okay, Teach, whatever you say,” she grins mischievously. “I see him looking at you all the time. He has big eyes, I don’t think he realizes I know exactly where he’s looking. I think he likes yoooou.” 

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Nope! I’m leaving you two alone. I’ll see you Monday!” Ellie winks from the doorway.

You shake your head as she leaves, you’ve never met a kid like her.

After laying out your library supplies for the morning and locking up the school, you hurry home to drop off your bag. You change into your painting clothes, eat one of your homemade granola bars, and pick up the gift you’ve grabbed for Joel. With a goodbye pet and nuzzle for your cats, you turn your lamp on and close the door behind you, stepping into the chilly, soaked spring evening. The short walk to Joel’s feels longer under the pouring rain.

For the third time in a week, you’re outside of Joel’s house wearing your same paint-splattered overalls. You return his smile when Joel opens the door with a dish towel in his hands.

“Come on in,” he says, drying his hands. You’ve become entranced by the sight of someone like him–capable and rough around the edges–do something so domestic. The same hands that wash dishes, cook dinner, and adjust couch pillows have also held weapons and taken lives. His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Hope the rain didn’t make it too bad gettin’ here.”

“Oh, it was fine,” you say, wiping your feet on his doormat and closing your umbrella. “Nothing was as bad as dealing with the kids today, they hate canceled training days.”

“M’sure of that,” Joel says, glancing down at the two umbrellas in your hand.

You hold one out to him. “So, I had a spare umbrella in my house, and was saving it for a– rainy day. I want you to have it so you don’t have to walk in the rain when you walk me–or someone else home.” 

“Mmhmm,” Joel nods and chuckles. “Only people I’ve walked home are you ’n technically Ellie to the garage. One time Tommy when he had a little too much to drink.”

“Well, it’ll do you more use than sitting in my closet.” 

“Thanks. Real sweet of you.” His eyes stay on yours for a moment. You’d give him a hundred umbrellas just to keep him looking at you this way. 

“I should start, should be done with everything tonight,” you huff out, while trying to calm your nerves.

“Course,” he steps aside to let you move into the room. Your brushes and paints are exactly where you left them the night before, but a new addition catches your eye.

Your breath hitches. “You moved your stereo in here?” 

“I did,” he says, stepping beside you. “Thought you’d like to pick whatever CD you want without havin’ to leave the room. It’ll be louder in here. Your book’s right next to it for you.”

“Joel… this is so sweet,” you gasp out while your fingers absentmindedly rub the daisy pendant around your neck. “You moved everything, this had to have taken a long time.”

“Was no problem,” he shrugs, “I wanted to do something nice for ya.”

“You’ve already done so much Joel,” you say softly.

“It’s been real nice havin’ you around,” his voice makes your heart race. “It’s bee–I like having your company in the evenings.”

“I’ve enjoyed being here too,” you reply with a smile, barely able to hear your own voice over the thudding in your chest.

He lingers for a moment before clearing his throat. “Alright then, I’m gonna let you get started. Put on some music, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the dining room working.”

You nod, grateful for the moment to compose yourself as you pick up your CD book.

“And now we proudly present Songs perverse and songs of lament A couple hymns of confession And songs that recognize our sick obsessions So sing along I’m the ugly organ!”

It feels like twenty years ago. You paint as you play one of your favorite albums, The Ugly Organ. It still works, one of the few small miracles in the apocalypse. You pick it because you think Joel might just like it. 

Your mind drifts to a web of familiar thoughts as you paint…

There are so many things everyone lives without now:  traffic reports, amusement parks, cell phones, hot dogs, airplanes. Inconsequential things missed. Major life moments missed. You never got your driver's license. You never got to go to your first school dance with James, your cute friend who definitely had a crush on you too. You never got to go to Disney World. 

You learned fairly quickly that your survival was dependent on how much you could sacrifice and live without. Especially in the QZ, where bright colors disappeared under layers of dust and decay, once shiny metal rusting away. Three meals a day replaced by a morsel of food here and there to keep your stomach from growling. Freedom of choice becoming nonexistent.

But art? You still had art. You were lucky to have your three art notebooks and box of colored pencils. Those pencils whittled down by years and years of use. When the pages of your books filled up, you turned to your walls. Your ration cards were bartered for anything you could use to draw with whenever you could afford it. Your notebooks held your fantasy of a normal life:  a takeout coffee cup with a croissant on a plate next to a folded up newspaper, a Christmas tree adorned with ornaments and garland, a brick house with urns full of flowers by the front door, a bowl of macaroni and cheese. 

Then, Jackson. Jackson brought you color, Jackson brought you music, Jackson brought you a place to feel like you had a home. Jackson brought you your close circle of friends, Jackson brought you your belief in civility, and yourself, back. And Jackson gave you Joel. The thought of him sends a chill up your spine as you realize how special he’s become to you, more than just a crush… now a friend. 

The CD ends, after the rousing ten-minute-long final song. The lead singer repeats “the worst is over” along with a grand choir. The words resonate with you, you’re safe and happy here in Jackson. Life feels full… especially now as you’ve found some sort of companionship with Joel. 

You step back and admire the mural. Flowers begin to bloom across Joel’s wall. The water held in your paint jar turns just as violet as the bluebells across the wall. Your sense of pride in your art grows along with each painted bluebell. 

You pick up your CD book and flip through the pages, choosing the last CD you bought before that fateful fall day in 2003. Black birds fly across the reflective silver disc. You slide it into the stereo and hit play before picking up your brush. 

“I’m sinking like a stone in the sea, I’m burning like a bridge for your body”

The week before the world ended, you scheduled your drivers license test. Monday, September 29 at 4 PM. You were so close to freedom. You had already warned your favorite teacher that you’d have to leave art club early, and your mom requested off to take you in. You had practiced and studied, you were confident you’d pass. 

You glance towards the doorway, where you can faintly hear Joel working in the dining room. What was his life like back then? What did he drive? What kind of responsibilities did he have?  You know he was a contractor. What reason would he have to leave work early? 

You ponder about Joel's life before the outbreak as you paint each petal, getting lost in mixing the perfect indigo hues for each bell.

The final song plays, the singer croons over his acoustic guitar. He sings a story about a shipwreck, about death, about love. It’s your favorite, you never got to learn it on guitar. 

“What they call love is a risk, You'll always get hit, Out of nowhere, By some wave and end up on your own”

You finish the last few bluebells in complete silence save for the random hammer knocks coming from Joel in the other room.

You dip your brush in your jar of water and step back. Long green stems sprout from the baseboard, green wispy stalks shooting out embellished with bells of all different hues of lavender and indigo. You’re proud of what you’ve created for Joel, you hope he loves it. 

“Joel,” you call softly, peeking your head out of the doorway down the hall, “it’s done.”

You hear the scrape of the chair against the hardwood floor. Your heart begins to hammer against your chest as you hear his steps get closer. You’re nervous, so unbelievably nervous. You want him to like it, you’ve never done this for someone else. Nobody has ever asked you to share your creation with them in such a large size. Your art now takes up a piece of his home now, that feels monumental. 

You stand in front of the mural, staring forward at the mural as you hear him enter the room. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You wait, feeling your heart thump against your chest as he stands behind you. Then, a sharp inhale from him.

“Wow…” he exhales. You can hardly hear him. “This is beautiful… thank you.” 

You want to smile and turn to him, be more present in the moment, but instead you feel like you don’t belong here. The vulnerability of this moment along with the feelings you have for him overwhelms you.

You nod, swallowing hard, still focusing on the wall. “I’m glad you like it,” you manage to say, your voice quiet and shy. 

“I… had a daughter before …everything. Name was Sarah,” the tenderness in his voice almost breaks you as you hear his revelation, “used t’call her my bluebell.”

Everything inside of you sinks at his admission. Sarah. You try to offer some sort of comfort, but everything feels inadequate. All you can do is apologize. “Joel… I’m sorry, so sorr—“

“I know you are,” he cuts you off gently. “I don’t need to hear that, please.”

He steps closer towards you, his front brushes against your back. “Seeing these flowers here… it means a lot.”

“I’m glad, I’m so glad,” a heartbroken whisper escapes your lips. 

“Thank you,” one of his calloused, large hands lands on your shoulder. Skin meeting skin where your tank top and overalls don’t cover. 

“You’re welcome, I feel honored to do this for you… and her.” You swallow down the sadness in your voice. Everyone’s lost so much, it’s an unspoken understanding for everyone who has survived.

“You’re so talented, this is gorgeous sweetheart. Y’sweet, so sweet,” Joel whispers as he turns you to face him. He grabs your hand, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “The way you’ve come into here, making it more beautiful with your art, your music, ’n your laughter. You’re so soft and pure, don’t know how someone like you still exists.”

“Joel,” you exhale at his confession. Your skin tingles all over, your body begins to warm. His sweet words shush the sadness held within you. 

His hand lifts to your chin, tilting your face up towards him. “So sweet,” he says again, his eyes roam around your face. Your lips part instinctively, his eyes drop to them. He slowly leans in, his forehead rests against yours, his warm breath fans across your skin. “Wanted to kiss ya’ the day I saw your classroom. The mural on the wall… you make everything around you more beautiful.” 

You breathe in his words with every inhale, words you could only dream of somebody telling you. His hand lets go of yours and moves to your back drawing you closer against his body. The tip of his nose nudges against yours. His lips meet your lips–softly, slowly, deliberately. He’s so gentle with you, overwhelming you. The tenderness of his touch and of his care, it’s not something you’ve ever felt. He makes you feel warm, he makes you feel safe. 

You melt under his touch, your body becoming pliant as his strong arm wraps around your waist. His large hand rests on your hip, fingers tracing the fabric of your overalls. You’re a grown woman and he makes you feel so small and juvenile, kissing your crush in your paint stained overalls after a day at school. 

The kiss turns hungrier, breaths quickening, tongues tasting tongues, the casualness and comfortability of the past few days turning into fevered kisses. You snake your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck, threading your fingers through his wavy hair. He pulls you even closer, your body now smashed against his. Joel lets out a guttural groan that vibrates against your lips as he lifts you and moves the two of you back towards his work bench.

A loud CLANG interrupts everything. You both blink, breathless, and look down to see the jar of paint knocked over, indigo tinted water spreading across the floor.

“Goddamnit,” Joel utters as he sets you back down on the floor, his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. “Knocked over the paint water.”

“I’m sorry, I’m usually careful about where I place that.” 

“S’okay, I’ll go get a towel,” he says, already walking out of the room.

You use your small paint rag to pathetically mop up a small bit of water, still trying to catch your breath from what just happened. 

Were you really just kissing Joel Miller? Did Joel Miller want to kiss you? He did. He definitely kissed you, and you kissed him back. He even said he wanted to kiss you before. He called you sweet. Are you dreaming? The man you’ve written songs about, the man you’ve watched from the corner of the bar, the man you’ve thought about every day since the first time you first saw him. That man you just kissed you.

“Guess we lucked out it didn’t break.” Joel interrupts your inner dialogue as he kneels down and places the towel over the stain.

“Sorry again,” you apologize. 

“Don’t worry yourself, it’s cleaned up just fine, I’ve done much worse to these floors with stain and dirt.” He stands, offering his hand and you take it. You rise with a smile, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his palm covers yours. “See? Back to brand new.” 

He’s so reassuring and so tender, now you know why–Joel Miller has known love before. 

“Was hoping my favor to you would be done but it’s not. Come on.” 

He doesn’t drop your hand as he leads you down the hallway into the dining room. On the table lies a guitar surrounded by tools. “Should be done tomorrow, there’s a fret that’s giving me a helluva time, but other than that it’s all fixed.” 

Your eyes widen at the sight. Music. “Joel… I—I can’t believe this.” You beam at him. “Thank you.” 

“Course sweetheart,” he raises his hand to your cheek to touch you again. “It’s nothin’, wanted you to have your music back.” 

Your fingers brush over the hard wood of the body, you note a rough patch from a hole that Joel filled in. The guitar is so worn and rugged but also so soft and polished. It’s beautiful. 

Joel’s kind action surrounds your heart and plants a thought in your brain quickly realizing everything that you’ve done with him the past few days. Does Joel really like you the way you like him? It feels impossible. How would someone like him like someone like you? He’s strong and capable, you’re just a lone woman who likes to paint pretty pictures of animals and talk to her cats for entertainment. You know many of the rumors you’ve heard about big, bad Joel Miller are true. What’s this man doing using his time to make something nice for you? 

“Joel, this is–wow–so much. Are you sure?”

He nods, his eyes steady on yours. “M’sure, I’m happy to do it, it really wasn’t difficult, ’n like I said, I just have to fix the last fret and it’ll be good.”

“Thank you, again, I can’t believe this.” 

“Believe it,” he says softly, his hand lingering on you cheek before letting it fall.

It’s so much, everything that has gone on between the two of you begins to overwhelm you–making you even more tired than you realize. You hide a yawn behind your forearm, blinking your tired eyes a couple of times. “Sorry,” you yawn again, “I always get tired on Friday evenings.”

He watches you, a look of affection in his eyes. “S’alright. I know you’re tired ’n have an early morning tomorrow.”

“I do…” as much as you hate to admit it, you should get home. You don’t want to. The affection, the kiss, the look in Joel’s eyes when he looks at you. You really like being here. You don’t know if you’ll get another chance. 

“I’ll walk you home, sweetheart. You have a lot to take.” 

There it is again. Sweetheart. Three times now, he’s called you that.

“I’m going to get all of my stuff packed up.” 

“Sure, I’ll help you,” he says, following you back into his studio. 

You start gathering your paints into your cardboard box, while Joel gingerly takes your CD out of the player, his movements measured as if he knows how much the disc means to you. Another sign of Joel’s ability to care that makes you fall deeper for him. 

“You know… like I said last night… you can come over any time and use my stereo,” he says, placing a hand on his neck and rubbing it back and forth.

He actually looks nervous as he extends his offer to you, making your heart skip a beat.

“I… yeah, that sounds really nice.” 

Joel picks up your box full of paint off of his work table, his eyebrows furrowing critically at the sight of the worn cardboard. “This box is on its last straw, you know that, right?”

“I do, I just… don’t really have anything else big enough to fit everything that I can easily carry.”

“Hmm,” he grunts disapprovingly, as if he truly does care about the inanimate objects that belong to you. 

“I hardly have to take it places, so it’s not that terrible,” you offer.

“Still deserve better than that,” he says under his breath tucking the box under his arm. 

Joel opens his door before grabbing his new umbrella. “No need to use yours, this’ll work for both of us.” 

“We’ve shared one before,” you smile.

Your comment grants a chuckle from Joel. You love hearing his laugh. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

The rain is light now–almost more of a mist–there’s no reason for an umbrella, but neither of you acknowledge or mention it. You like being under it with Joel, you like feeling the way your bodies brush against each other. You like how he angles it to fully cover you, leaving his large frame half open to the elements. 

As your home comes into view, you start to feel a pang of sadness. You don’t want this walk to end. You’ve never felt like this with anybody before. The instant comfortability of him, the way you can make him laugh, and the way he watches you, as if he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

Joel places the box of paints down on your porch table. “You home tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah. Just have the library, but I’m usually back here by the late afternoon.”

“S’alright if I come by and drop your guitar off in the evening?”

“Yes, of course it is,” your voice squeaks a little too high with excitement. 

He smiles, stepping closer, his broad frame towering over you, blocking the soft glow of the porch light. “Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” his voice low, eyes locked on your lips.

Your back presses against the door, your heart pounding against your chest as he leans in. “Yes, tomorrow,” you manage to whisper out.

“Thank you for your beautiful gift,” he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I‘m gonna go sit in my chair, and look at it.”

“You’re welcome,” another whisper even quieter than the one before.

Joel leans in closer, angling his head down to place a quick soft kiss against your lips, you barely have a chance to savor it before he’s pulling away. 

He cups your cheek again. “G’night sweetheart,” his low voice makes your knees weak, thankful for he front door against your back. You watch as he turns and walks away, this time he doesn’t look back.

The Middle & What's In Between - Joel's Version

[casually-slips-into-coma]

spoilers for iwtv s2e5!!!

initial thoughts throughout:

dubai armand in this ep specifically seems a lot happier than normal. very smiley and kind of excited? like more energy than usual. mans was ready to eat

this fucking turtleneck

loumand library dates

hypnotized security as one does

i like that armand likes to hunt his kills. thought it was a cool detail

made me think of when armand tells daniel to run in the book

daniel was there for gay sex the drugs were just a bonus

he barely registered the coffin. he was like ok ig

the zodiac killer lol

daniel struggling to get the tape out of the plastic lmao

some coke for the gums just in case

you were lonely louis (gagged him)

the extreme change in vibe from daniel shitting himself about louis being a vampire to him laughing along while louis complains about his ex

book quotes!!

daniel validating louis complaining about lestat. theyre just gossiping at this point

BIG time asshole

daniel making A Point and then going sorry and louis saying no,,,,,that🫵was astute🗣🗣

“can u do the fang thing again? i love that, man” hes just like me fr

dangerously unstable psyche ((clocked))

im kinda with her get off that bench brother😭 [about claudia leaving]

jacob the actor you are

ok this whole argument between louis and armand was insane and i replayed it like a million times

kinda love louis coked tf out

being called boring fucking hurts thats a wild argument

he called you a soft beige pillow suffocating him girl u gotta stand up

armand really locked on to the word fascinating

louis said lick my boots😝

gremlin sighting👀

“chop my hands off”👀👀👀👀

picking LINT❓❓off the sofa⁉️ ⁉️

armand mocking him “oh its so hard to be me, its so hard to kill humans, i can feel her feelings as i drain her, louis de point du lac, everyone i know wronged me!”

imitating each others accents

my vampire daddy groomed me into a little bitch holy fuck when they go low i go lower

THE NAME!! the name!! unuttered in our home for 23 years said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer!!!!

assad deserves every award my man was actiiiinnggg

she didnt love you/i know

louis :(((

“can u hear her? shes calling me…” ok what if i kms

and then louis runs into the sunlight🙃

hello loml: practical effects

sidestep the big picture get the story straight first daniel said lets lock the fuck in rn we gotta focus

“you said the worst things youve ever said to me” hes just a sopping wet cat

hes fine youre fine this is fine youre all fine

finally seeing unhinged armand ive prayed for times like these

i stand by my cancelled wife btw

small detail of different memories: in louis’ version he apologizes to armand and armand says “meaningless word” and then moves on to talk about the slanted floor. in daniel’s version he remembers the dead guy and the same scene plays out except armand explains he killed the neighbor in between “meaningless word” and how the floor is slanted

vibrating eyes

LOVING how this episode is shot. all the different angles and the camerawork and the fucking MUSIC

canon that louis fucks guys and then kills them fic writers get to it

“128 boys hes brought here—“ “he said it was 5🥺”

daniel basically saying look man ill suck ur dick if u let me go

and then armand making him kneel

armand so unnerving <3

i know its kinda dumb to point out but i love small details of vamp power. specifically how armand picked up that table like it weighed nothing and when he picked up louis

love the idea of louis being like ok just put your feet in the rocks itll help

sopping wet cat armand!!!

but also he really let louis suffer for days instead of just giving him blood to ease the pain😬

lestats voice caught me off guard genuinely

interesting that armand knows where lestat is. i wonder how the show is gonna go about it. is he in the ground??

and refusing to pass along the i love you message……….theres layers here

u left me for death :((

have i atoned for my part of paris👀👀

the armand daniel bite was very do u know what it means to be loved by death

itty bitty armand fangs

need him alive as a testament to our companionship wtf are we even talking about anymore

arun/maitre😵‍💫

the fucking sunglasses im pissing😭😭

he got that shit on tho

welcome back trinity from the matrix

also just the fact that armand came back like yum i had so much fun on that hunt😁 anyway what are you two up to😇☺️

and louis and daniel just had a harrowing 2 hours trying to recover lost memories and coming to the realization that theyve been mega gaslit for decades

armand saying exactly what louis told daniel word for word

a hunch🫢

i love this show

im so excited for next weeks episode this story is unfolding so beautifully. im even more curious now about why and how this second interview is happening. ((also am very confused/curious about what looks like a protest in the promo??))

[delta-pavonis]

Ficlet: O that I were a glove upon that hand

Dreamling || Human AU || Rated E || ~1100 words

(Because Tom doing Romeo at VogueWorld 2023 gave me some feelings and Ferdie is often in his Venice Preserv'd look in my head... although with longer hair.)

This has, perhaps, gone too far.

Let's back up.

Everyone in the department, most people on campus, and – because of a viral video of him going off at the director during a dress rehearsal of a Shakespeare in the Park performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream – a damned large swath of London all know of Dr. Robert Gadling's particular and peculiar hate of the Bard. It is what makes this whole thing incredibly frustrating.

Gifts. Hob has been getting gifts. Left for him in conspicuous places, each more finely crafted and expensive than the last. And each with a goddamned Shakespearean love sonnet on it.

If it wasn't for the nature of the gifts themselves Hob would be absolutely certain someone was taking the piss. (Jo, that would probably be Jo.)

But each gift is so bloody thoughtful; carefully chosen with an uncannily tuned awareness to Hob’s personal needs and tastes. This person either really cares for him or… well, he would think the person a possible stalker except that everything they have done relates to something that has happened in public, with full easy access for many people to make a judgment that Hob likes or needs something. 

There have been six of them now. And aside from the fact that Hob’s living room wall now looks like all those movies where the authorities are frantically tracking a serial killer, complete with a map of London and lots of red sharpie, he is rather… flattered? 

It has been a long time since… well. The anniversary of Eleanor's death will be rounding on eight years this winter. 

Hob thinks he has worked out a pattern to when he gets the gifts, is like 80% confident he can guess when they have gotten placed in each location, from his university office, to the men’s dressing room at the White Horse Community Theater, to his usual table at the New Inn. Add to that his approximately 60% confidence in the reasoning behind the temporal spacing of the gifts, and he is ready to roll the dice.

He locks up his office a tick early, as usual on Thursdays, and makes all appearances to head home before going to that evening’s rehearsal. But as soon as he gets home he is donning a new hoodie no one has seen him wear before, slinking back out the garden door, over the hedge, and jogging to the theater. Hob closes himself into the darkness of the men’s dressing room a solid two hours before anyone is scheduled to be anywhere near the place. 

And he waits. 

Hob is good at waiting.

He is crouched where he will be behind the door when it opens, but this puts him immediately next to some of the accessories storage for costuming for this show. And oh, they have gotten in a new pair of leather gloves for him.

Just because he is good at waiting doesn’t mean that he never gets bored. 

Hob slips on the new gloves and works his hands in them. These will be perfect to swordfight in, fantastic.

And then the door creaks open. 

He freezes and watches, only the sliver of light coming from the hallway to help him. A masculine figure, slim, in a peacoat, walks silent as a hunting cat to the second chair from the far wall, just where Hob usually gets ready. 

A hand runs softly across the back of the chair once before a small box is left on the tabletop. Then as quietly as they came in, the person turns to leave. 

Just before they get to the open door Hob pounces.

There is a shout and a scuffle, the two men – for it is another man, of that Hob has no doubt – grappling as one tries to escape and the other hold on.

Which is how Hob ends up with his black leather-gloved hands wrapped around the pale swan neck of his longest friend. 

They haven’t seen each other in… fuck, it feels like more than a hundred years. And they had not parted on good terms. 

“Christ, Dream?” Hob pants out the nickname but does not let go. 

Diamond-sharp blue eyes that could belong only to one person stare at him from beneath heavy lids. He parts his lips to speak, but at the same time Hob shifts the grip of his hands and any words Dream was going to say get lost in a breathtakingly thready moan. 

Barely a heartbeat later they meet in the middle, Hob’s hands going to the back of Dream’s head and Dream’s arms going around his shoulders and their mouths fit together like goddamned puzzle pieces and Hob knew, he fucking knew, it would be like this. 

They knock over no less than two chairs, collapse against a wall for a minute, then one of them pushes off and they are almost going ass over tea kettle onto the couch. A bit of quick footwork on Hob’s part and they are on the opposite side of the room.

By the time Hob has Dream sitting on the vanity they have gotten their shirts off and his bare back slams into the mirror’s surface, sliding and squeaking with the thin sheen of sweat. He gets his hands under Dream’s thighs, hikes him up to grind their clothed erections together, and once Dream has his legs wrapped around Hob’s hips he brings one hand to his mouth to pull off the gloves.

An unsteady hand grabs his wrist. “Leave them on.” Dream’s voice is even lower than Hob remembers it. 

There is fumbling to get flies open and then Hob has his hand wrapped around both their cocks and is pumping. Dream’s fingers are now tugging on Hob’s hair, his body arching prettily as Hob gets his lips and tongue onto that beautiful neck.

Hob is about to be embarrassed by how quickly he is nearing completion when Dream pulls him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he shudders through his orgasm. 

“Come with me, Hob,” is whispered against his lips and Hob is absolutely lost to it, shouting into Dream’s collarbone.

They are still panting, large heaving breaths, when Dream tugs Hob’s hand up from where it is wrapped around their spent pricks so that he can lick the leather clean. Hob watches that pink tongue dance between his fingers and his cock almost twitches in interest. He huffs a laugh and takes Dream’s chin in his grip, pulls their mouths back together so that he can speak against them. 

“Hello, Stranger.”