#there's just a bit too much for me to eat at one go
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noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)
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I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.
But it’s lonely.
The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.
During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.
You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.
In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…
So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.
But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.
“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.
You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.
König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.
You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?
Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.
“…What do you need, mylady?”
After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”
König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.
“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”
And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.
“…Yes, König.”
(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)
#noona.posts#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#noona.asks#john price x reader#soap x reader#poly!141 x reader#kyle gaz x reader#ghost x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#konig x you#konig x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost x you#soap x you#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz garrick x you
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Hello! Do you have a favorite winter recipe? I'm looking to expand my repertoire, because I've only lived in a climate that snows for a couple years, and I don't have enough cozy, bone warming foods!
PS - I keep having to feed my cat pumpkin puree because he has some tummy troubles but he will only eat it if I gently hand feed him with a spoon. Just thought you might enjoy that.
YES HERE IS JOYOUS SOUP
(i have never actually called it joyous soup but it's what i feel everytime i make it and i feel like everyone should make it)
This soup does not have a proper recipe because uhh, my mom is bad with recipes but ALSO this soup truly adapts to whatever you have in your fridge, as long as you have 1) some kind of oil or butter to sautee things with and 2) potatoes. this is the sam gamgee make-it-on-the-side-of-a-mountain-winter soup.
Step 1. Take your potatoes—6 is the ideal but 4 works—and chop them up rough. "What kind of potatoes?" Whatever they have on the side of the mountain, Sam. You now have a bunch of 1" potato chunks or discs (I like discs). I assumed you washed them first but if you forgot you can wash them now.
Step 2. Get your oil or butter sizzling. I use about two tablespoons of butter to start and add more as I go if the potatoes don't look fully covered. I am probably cooking the butter on medium.
Step 3. You're putting the potatoes in the butter. You're pretending to fry them. Watch them get all buttery and golden and a little brown and crispy. You're thinking, man, I could eat these as they are right now. You could do that. Don't. Add garlic and onions if you have them. Add lots.
Step 4. Just as you're like oh MAN these potatoes and garlic and onions look really good fried just like this, you're going to swamp them in water. You're going to stare at what you've done and thought you made a mistake. You have not. The water should just be covering the potatoes and now you've turned the water up to high, staring at your weird sad soup pot, that smells deliciously of butter garlic onions and potatoes.
Step 5. In another saucepan, you are melting more butter (or oil, or what have you) and figuring out what else you have in your cupboard. Carrots? Those can go in. Parsnips could too. Spinach works nicely. Any onions or garlic you forgot can be added again now. Mushrooms are fucking fabulous. Leeks? Sublime. The only veg you should be avoiding are the ones that are secretly fruits (no watery tomatoes or squishy cucumbers) or the ones that you think are insipid (celery).
Step 6. You're chopping all of that up as much as you like and browning it up in the butter. You're also adding whatever spices strike your fancy. I love salt, so that's always going in, but I usually add black pepper and cayenne, and then I get fruity with it and start adding in paprikas and cumins and turmerics or corianders and thymes and basils and parsleys. It all depends on what smells right to you combined with the steams you're making, and how much spice you want kicking you later.
Step 7. How are your boiled potatoes looking? Are they soft yet? Good. Can you stick a fork in them yet, and has the water boiled down to almost nothing? Excellent. How are all your buttery brown vegetables looking? If you want to give up the whole experiment and eat them right out of the pan, it's time to make another mistake and add all your gorgeous browned vegetables to your disastrous wet potato pot.
Step 8. You now have a lot of delicious stuff looking wet and sad in your potato pot. Pour in a bit more water (or veg broth, or stock if you have it) and stir that all up. Let it stew together a bit and combine flavors. Turn it back down to medium so you don’t scorch any of your nice wet veg things. If you're fancy like my mom, you get out an immersion blender here. If you're broke and possess your grandmother's food processor, like me, you're pouring that all into the food processor with the biggest blade you have and turning it into a smoothie. If your concoction seems oddly chunky you need to add more water.
Step 9. Wet sad potato smoothie is not much to look at but now you're adding CREAM. and CHEESE. and MORE SPICES TO YOUR TASTE. If you don't have cream MILK WORKS FINE. If you don't have cheese THAT IS OKAY. If you like your soup with chunks LEAVE OUT SOME OF YOUR VEG NEXT TIME and ADD IT IN HERE. At this point, you have a gorgeous creamy soup that's soft and luscious (that's the potatoes), includes all your favorite veg (that's everything you got out of the fridge), and can go in any number of taste directions depending on what spices you put in (I've made this with Indian spices, English herb garden spices, Mexican spices, Hungarian spices—every time it's delicious and works a different way).
Step 10. I hope you have a lot of bread because you're going to be dipping it in your soup saying :) man this is a nice soup :) and knowing you can make it whenever you have weird leftovers, as long as you have potatoes and butter. and what else does a person need in life than potatoes and butter?
enjoy your joyous soup <3 i may have forgotten several steps but as long as you follow -brown some veg -add water -add spice -blend the shit out of it, you can never really go wrong <3
#also you don't even need the dairy stuff it just gives it a nice OOMPH.#ive made this soup with nothing but potatoes olive oil scallions salt and water and it still went fucking hard. just give your stuff time t#melt around and get all flavory#hotvintagethoughts
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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 3: You Trust Me?✨
Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader
Series Masterlist
A/N: I’m so excited to bring you the next chapter! This has been one of my favorite series to write, and I have so much more in store for these two! Joel is so so soft for reader 🥹 Happy reading! I love nothing more than to read your comments on what you thought, so please consider leaving me comments and reblogs 💕
Chapter Summary: You’ve got so many reasons not to trust another man again in your life, but Joel seems to give you ten for why you should trust him. One of them being calming a panic attack in the middle of a parking lot.
Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI
Word Count: 9.7k
Chapter Tags: Mentions of being trafficked, flashbacks of being abused, angst, soft and protective Joel, PTSD, no use y/n, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Joel is late 40’s), pre-outbreak au, mentions of an acoustic guitar, panic attacks at the store
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The long days seem to dwindle by with your heart still lodged deep in your throat. It doesn’t seem to matter that the calming rain patters on your foggy window, doesn’t matter that fall used to be your favorite season. You feel hollow, torn apart piece by piece with every second that brushes past your icy skin.
You feel broken. You are broken. And you’re not sure anything will ever fix that.
Every day you find something new that’s too hard to manage to get your body to do. Brushing your teeth, getting yourself dressed, making yourself eat when all you can stomach is the empty feeling inside you. You’re just so tired of fighting, so very exhausted of trying to just get by. But your body screams at you to fight.
Fight for yourself. Win. Get out of bed, eat, make an effort to survive. So, you do. You try because that’s all you hear ringing in the back of your mind. You have to keep going. Don’t let Angela or any of the ones that dragged you down keep you from thriving.
Live.
Today is like all the other days you fight to not let your depression win. Except today marks two weeks that you’ve been here. Two weeks that you’ve survived. And as much as you feel like giving up every second of every day, you always seem to find one tiny reason to get out of bed. Joel seems to be that reason.
Joel… and his warm cups of coffee. The kind that he douses in creamer and sugar and caramel just for you. Because that’s how you like it. And it never fails. Every single morning your cup is there just waiting for you, including Joel’s warm smile and soft brown eyes…
That’s your reason for getting out of bed. Joel.
You discovered that Joel reported you as found to the police department a few days ago. You should feel relieved that he did that, but it didn’t matter. There was no one looking for you, so it didn’t make a damn bit of a difference. No one was coming to get you… Nobody even tried reaching out which makes you feel that much worse.
You battle with yourself, wrestling your way to slide on a pair of black leggings, along with a long cashmere sweater that falls clear down your thighs. You fight to comb the knots from your hair, clenching your teeth with every painful drag of the brush.
Fight. Win. Don’t let them control you.
Flexing your trembling hands, you squeeze a generous amount of spearmint toothpaste onto your purple toothbrush and jam it into your mouth, scraping it back and forth until you don’t taste the bitter aftertaste of almost two years in captivity.
Your fingers tremble beneath you with every slide of the toothbrush, every clinking noise against your teeth making you gag at the memories of you being left alone with disgusting men in a tiny bathroom against your will. It’s too much, this is too much. So you rinse your mouth and scamper out of the bathroom, closing the door until you can’t feel the goosebumps rising on your skin anymore.
You’re safe. They’re not here. You’re free. But you don’t feel free because those painful memories are alive in your mind, painting vivid pictures that make you instantly want to vomit and recoil into bed. But you don’t let the monsters take you back down into the darkness. You flee to sunlight and hope. You make your way to something that makes you feel lighter, where you can breathe easier, to something that gives you hope.
And that something is Joel.
You smell the fresh coffee brew in the air, inhaling the rich scent as if you can already taste it. When you turn the corner you see Joel’s broad back to you, busy with the coffee machine and the daily newspaper, his large hand brushing past the blur of small-print words.
Instead of stopping to say good morning to him, you decide to venture down the hall. You haven’t been brave enough to really take in the house and explore, but now? Maybe you could try.
The sunlight shines through the open glass windows, making the photographs and hanging art glitter like specks of gold surrounding the black frames. Your eyes skim the family photographs, taking in Joel’s big smile in each of them. One is of him and Tommy, arms clasped around each other’s backs with a little girl standing in front of them, who you suppose is Sarah. Her dark curls spiral to her shoulders while she wraps an arm around her dad.
They look so happy, like a normal family who has never been broken. You wish yours looked like that. But again, it never was. You were always surrounded by screaming parents, right on the brink of a divorce while you’d stay tucked in your room with your hands covering your ears, praying for the noise to just stop.
But it stopped alright. It stopped the moment they crashed their car on top of a mountain and left you to fend for yourself at your uncle’s house. An uncle that never loved you. An uncle that abandoned Washington the moment you moved out at just eighteen-years-old. And then he did too…
You keep moving, holding your composure and tears in. Even though you feel like collapsing right in this spot, right under Joel’s family picture. A family that was still together to this day while yours was nonexistent.
You wish you still had a family, but you never really did in the first place. Did you? No. Mom was always too busy with looking perfect, constantly obsessing with lessening her wrinkles and getting plastic surgery. And dad? Well, he was always too busy working at the law firm and hooking up with his assistant behind mom’s back. You were always left to fend for yourself, so now isn’t any different than it’s ever been.
You’re alone. You’ve always been alone, always just survived. Ever since you were little, that’s all you’ve known — how to be independent and just make it. So what’s different now? Now you just have to swim through the trauma and hope you don’t drown in the process. Because this right now is too much to handle, even for you.
It’s too fucking much.
Choking down the held back tears, you make your way down the long hallway, your body moving on autopilot just to escape the visions that blur into muted noise. The pristine white walls clash against the polished floors, painting you a picture of hope. Something you’ve never really had before.
Keep fighting. Live. Make a change. Break the cycle.
Holding on to new hope, you keep going until you turn the corner and find a large, open room that makes you audibly gasp. All memories of broken families and internal fears are suddenly forgotten, pushed aside to take in this glorious sight.
Holy shit.
Towering mahogany bookshelves sit stacked against the white walls, the cascading windows letting in enough sunlight to reflect off the broken-in spines of each book. Two plush ivory oversized chairs sit in the corner of the room, one opposite the other. An electric fireplace sits idle against one of the bookshelves, draped in vines from the tropical plant that splays atop the bookshelf nearest the fireplace.
This room is… magical. Exactly what you needed. An escape from reality. An escape from your mind.
You trace lines against the smooth covers of the various books, feeling the cracked spines and intricate cursive letters on some of the older books. There’s genres of everything you could ever imagine. Starting from ancient history and going all the way to popular fictional books that you’d see on New York’s best seller’s lists. This room has everything.
You could get lost in here.
Forgetting where you are, your hand snaps back when you hear a deep chuckle behind you. “Thought I heard you come down this mornin’. See you found one of my favorite rooms.”
When you turn around, you see him smiling over at you, the glow of the sun making his brown eyes sparkle an almond brown honey color. If you’re being honest with yourself, it makes you feel a little lighter because his eyes are so warm.
He’s warm.
“These are all yours?” you ask with a gasp as your finger continues to trail against the golden spine of an old history book.
“All mine. Well, a lot of ‘em I got for Sarah. You see, she’s a bit of a bookworm, and she might’ve got me into the classics. So, now I’m jus’ as bad as her,” he laughs as he leans against the bright wall, his smile light and easy like the relaxed state he’s in now.
“This place, it’s incredible,” you breathe out, continuing to skim over the spotless shelves, your fingertips clashing with leather and the feel of worn pages. It smells like freedom and escape, someplace where you could stay buried for days.
He runs his fingers through his slicked back curls, bicep flexing against his dark blue flannel, an easy smile hanging on his lips. This might be the most relaxed you’ve seen him since you came here. He looks almost… happy the way he’s looking at you all light and carefree, like he’s enjoying the view. Like he’s happy that you’ve found something else you lost.
“You like it?” he asks, his eyes caramel pools that you could almost sink into.
“I love it,” you reply enthusiastically, your voice almost unrecognizable.
A warm smile spreads on his mouth, making his brown eyes sparkle that much more in the dewy sunlight. “Then it’s yours, sweetheart. Borrow anything you want, read what you want.”
“Really?” you ask with a raised brow, sliding a book back into its place on the second shelf.
“Really,” he nods with a smile.
“Joel, thank you. This is… this is perfect.”
“Jus’ glad I found someone I can share my books with again.”
You stay just like that for the next minute — Joel on the other end of the room, looking back at you with the warmest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes your heart flutter, makes you want to smile back, but you just give him a tight-lipped smile and look back at the cream rug covering the floor, suddenly too shaky to say anything else.
Your eyes snap to something hidden in the corner of the room, a ray of sunlight hitting at just the right angle to make out something you missed entirely when you walked in. You guess you were too enamored by the books to notice the acoustic guitar sitting neatly on a stand right by the sheer curtain hanging over the window.
“Is this yours?” you ask, pointing to the acoustic guitar.
“Oh. Yeah, s’mine.” His eyes fall to the dark wood, the body glossy and sleek as it shines against the draped curtain. A splash of sunlight makes it shimmer for just a moment, until rain clouds cover the sun and cast the guitar back in shadows.
“You play guitar?” you question curiously as he takes a long, slow stride across the room.
“I used to. A long time ago.”
You watch him make his way over to the guitar. It’s like he’s tiptoeing across glass, careful in his steps to not trip and cut his tanned skin up. That’s how it seems when he hesitantly reaches out to glide his fingertips down the tight strings, skimming his thumb meticulously against the smooth surface of the polished neck as if he’s memorizing every single particle of the instrument. Like he’s reliving something he keeps hidden away from the rest of the world to see.
He’s quiet as he analyzes the guitar, almost like he’s reliving memories that only he can see. Were they good or bad ones? Judging by his wary stance and slow movements, you wonder if maybe they’re fragile memories.
“Used to?” you ask quietly, careful not to disturb whatever storm’s blowing through his mind.
“‘S’right. Haven’t played in quite some time,” he answers defeatedly as his thumb tracks along the outline of a carved moth. He lingers there for a moment, pinching his eyebrows together as if he’s trying to fight off whatever images are haunting his mind.
He looks… sad. Looks as if that guitar holds years of painful memories.
“Why’d you stop?” you push, afraid you’ve just struck a nerve by the way his back muscles tense and his jaw clenches up.
His hand wraps around the neck of the guitar, veins bulging in his neck as his eyes grow a shade darker. In the flit of sunshine that creeps through the window, you see a glimmer that looks a lot like a held back tear in the center of his right eye. That in itself sends a shot of pain through your chest.
He clears his throat and takes a step back, just enough to where he can only graze the edge of the guitar. His dark brown eyes are in a faraway place when he replies hesitantly. “It jus’—it… I guess it’s got a few memories attached to it that makes it hard to play now.”
When he drops his hand to his side and looks up at you, you see a man who’s hurting deep inside. You can see it in his weathered stare, in the dark circles beneath his sad brown eyes, in the way his bottom lip twitches each time his gaze falls on that acoustic guitar.
There’s something he lost, too. You just don’t know what.
Before the room gets too stifling and stuffy, he shakes off his frown and nods toward the hallway. “C’mon, I’ve got your coffee waitin’ on the counter for you. Don’t want it to get cold now.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
He gives you a tight-lipped smile and exits the room, leaving you all alone once again. You find yourself looking back at the guitar, your eyes feeling heavy as you stare at the little moth ingrained into the smooth wood. There’s just something about it that makes your stomach drop.
This guitar was special to him, maybe it still is. You just wonder what can make a big, strong man like him crumble. You don’t want to see him turn to dust like you; you’ve got enough pain for the both of you. He doesn’t deserve pain. He’s too… good. And while he doesn’t technically wear his heart on his sleeve, you can see he keeps the pain hidden behind a mask.
Maybe one day he’ll show you his scars, too.
When you make your way back to the kitchen, your warm cup of coffee is sitting right there on the quartz island, the steam billowing out as if he just poured it. As you slip into your chair, you notice his shoulders are more relaxed and the weathered stare he had back in that room is nearly gone. Whether he put on a mask or tucked his feelings deep inside his pockets to where you can’t see, you still notice the dark lines that edge beneath his brown eyes.
Something hurt him, and it still haunts him to this day.
Slowly taking a sip of the sugary drink, your eyes snap up to him when you hear the deep timbre of his voice. “Used up the rest of the caramel this mornin’.”
You swallow the coffee down your throat and shift forward on the barstool. “Already?”
He chuckles and nods his head your way. “Apparently someone who’s got a sweet tooth used it all. Can’t imagine who that was.” He winks at you, and you can feel the bright blush stain your cheeks the wider his smile gets.
Clearing your throat, you push a lock of hair behind your ear and try to stop the red tint from spreading any further. “Looks like you found the culprit.”
“Looks like it,” he smiles, his lips tugging at his tanned skin, making a deep dimple press into the middle of his cheek. You can’t help yourself, so you give him a shy smile back in return. It seems to make his brown eyes sparkle that much brighter as he stares at you.
You take a few more sips of the caramel drink, enjoying every single drop like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Joel sets down his glass cup and bites his bottom lip, chewing nervously as he glances over at you. “I need to go pick up some things at the grocery store today. Shouldn’t take long at all, but I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come along with me?”
You choke on a sip of coffee and struggle to find your words. You haven’t been out in the real world in a very long time. You don’t even know how to even interact, nonetheless see strangers passing by you.
Tapping your nails nervously against the glass cup, you fight to get the words out. “Oh. You… want me to go to the store with you?”
“Only if you want. Figured you’d wanna pick some things out.”
“Umm. Okay. Sure. I can go with you,” you breathe out nervously, pushing all your fears down as you swallow back the answer you really wanted to say.
“Alright. Well, how’s ‘bout you finish up breakfast, and we can go after you get ready?” His thumb brushes over the curve of his coffee cup, and your eyes track his movements as he slowly brings the edge to his lips.
And then you’re swallowing back fears again and dropping your eyes to the floor, awaiting the panic that’ll surely flood your system when you get to the store.
You can do this. Fight the fear.
Biting the bullet, you look up and give him a slight nod. “Okay, after breakfast.”
Joel grins and turns back to the refrigerator, away from your now wide eyes. You’re suddenly regretting your choice, but you have to go through with it. You have to be brave. For yourself.
You can do this.
Light rain patters on the passenger window, sending water droplets splashing along the side mirror. It’s only sprinkling, but the thunder in the near distance makes it seem like it might pour down at any second.
The engine hums as the wheels roll on the pavement, green trees blurring as Joel drives along the long, straight road. An old country song seeps through the speakers as Joel’s thumb taps along to the catchy tune. It’s oddly peaceful, driving with him in his truck. It almost makes you forget the nerves crawling up your spine.
“Does it always rain this much in Texas? I thought it was supposed to be like a desert here,” you ask, your eyes tracking the sea of trees outside your window.
“Usually is. Hell, we’re usually in a drought. But for some reason, we’ve been gettin’ a record amount this year. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” he says as he continues driving through the mist.
“That’s strange.” You trace the condensation on the window and draw little lines, hoping you’ll forget you’re about to go out in public.
“You must’ve brought some rain from Washington.” He smiles over at you and continues tapping his thumb along to the rhythm of the upbeat song.
“Guess I did,” you laugh under your breath as you finish off your window art of a blooming flower.
The music goes silent as Joel turns down the radio with the pad of his index finger. When you turn to look at him with questions in your eyes, he clears his throat and looks warily over at you. “Do you… do you miss it?”
“Miss what?” you whisper, letting your fingers pull against the edge of your warm sweater.
“Washington,” he responds back, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead.
You take a moment to envision the forest green trees, the frigid air by the edge of the sea, the cliffsides you used to hang over to stare into the deep blue ocean. And that’s when you feel a sharp pain jab inside your chest. “Sometimes… I miss the waterfalls, the salty breeze of the ocean, the beautiful nature. I’ve never seen a state as gorgeous as Washington. And how green it is? Yeah, I guess I do miss it…”
The front of the truck grows quiet as Joel takes in your answer. His palm rakes against his dark beard slowly, brushing across his mouth like he’s thinking really hard about your answer. And just when you think he’ll drop the conversation, he says something that leaves you speechless.
“I’ll take you back.”
Your eyes blow wide as you repeat the sentence in your head. I’ll take you back. Why would he do that…
“What?” you ask, jaw dropped like you just got slapped in the face.
He gives you a small smile and looks over at you with the softest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “When you’re ready, that is. And only if you want to go back. I could help you get your feet back on the ground, find you a nice place where you’ll be comfortable. If that’s what you want.”
You stare at him dumbstruck, your words lodged deep in your throat with every second that ticks by. He’ll take you back. But why would he do that for you? Why would he do what no one else would? Why does he care what happens to you…
“Joel, that’s—that’s too much. I can’t ask you to do that,” you protest, shaking your head like what he just said is impossible.
He shakes his head, making a sandy lock of hair fall against the side of his forehead. “It’s not too much, and I’d do it in a heartbeat. S’no trouble,” he says adamantly, like he won’t hear anything else about it. It’s settled for him.
“Thank you…” you whisper out, your voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.
He arches an eyebrow and looks over at you, tugging his lips into an easy smile. “Ya know, gonna have to get you your own car, too.”
“Joel,” you warn through clenched teeth. He is not getting you a car. Absolutely no way.
“What?” he shrugs. “You can’t get around without a car.”
You shake your head unbelievably and open your mouth wide. “I can’t pay for a car.”
“‘M not askin’ you to. I’ve got money.”
And again, you can’t believe how insistent and easy-going he’s taking this. “Joel. I can’t ask you for a car. Absolutely not. And besides, I’m not ready to drive yet.”
He flashes you a smile and gives you a nod of encouragement. “S’alright, sweetheart. You’ll get there in time. And when you do, you’ll have a car.”
You lick your bottom lip, frustrated slightly that he’s being so kind to you. No one has ever been this nice in your entire life. Not even your parents… Why is he treating you like you’re important? You’ve never been important. So why does he act like you’re the only thing that currently matters?
“There’s no stopping you, is there?” you give up, your back flush to the warm seat as you stare into deep brown eyes that belong to the kindest man you’ve ever met.
He thinks you’re important.
“Not a chance,” he chuckles, his airy laugh floating through the cabin of the truck, striking another nerve in your heart.
He’s so kind, more than that. He genuinely wants you to thrive, to live. That takes a little weight off your heavy chest.
It’s quiet for a moment, only the light wind and patter of raindrops taking up the space. But then he shifts uncomfortably and flicks his wandering eyes back over at you. There’s a deep crease between his thick eyebrows, and that look has you back on the edge of your seat. “Can I ask you somethin’?” he asks delicately.
You swallow back nerves and nod your head in response. “Umm, okay. Sure.”
“What, umm. What happened to your parents, if you don’t mind me askin’?”
The question makes you tilt a little off your axis, throws you off just enough to where your right hand is discreetly clenched so tight around the side of the seat that you swear it turns pale white. You weren’t prepared for that question. You’re never prepared. But, you might as well just spill it. What else do you have to lose?
“They—they died when I was fifteen… Crashed their car on the side of a mountain, and they ended up rolling off the edge. On the very same day they were driving to get a divorce…”
His eyes blow wide for a second and in the next he’s dragging a heavy hand over his mouth. “Oh, sweetheart. ‘M so sorry. That’s… traumatic.”
You can’t help but to puff out a pathetic laugh from that. Your life has been nothing but traumatic; you just learn to live through it.
You silently nod and continue on. “After I found out, the judge decided I’d go live with my uncle. An uncle who barely talked to me. He didn’t even want me there, but I had no other options. So, I left as soon as I turned eighteen and moved into a dorm when I went to college.”
“Is he still…”
“He moved out of Washington as soon as I left. Last I heard, he died from a heart attack. So I’ve just kinda been on my own since I was eighteen. But really, I’ve been alone for much longer than that.”
The inside of the truck goes completely silent, except the quiet hum of the purring engine. You don’t exactly like talking about your family drama and your awful past, but it’s easier when you already feel dead inside. Maybe if you talk enough Joel will decide to drop you off on the side of the street and leave you with a good luck wave.
He wouldn’t do that, though. That’s just your unhinged mind spiraling like your entire life is.
“That’s… fuck. No one should ever be put through that. What you did, what you had to do. M’so sorry.”
You shrug it off and act like you’re just fine, but really you just don’t want to cry. You don’t want to show him how weak and pathetic you truly are. You used to be stronger than this…
Holding in a sob, you play it off like it’s nothing. “It’s alright. I mean, I’ve been through a lot worse since then. I guess I’m good at being alone…”
It gets quiet again, only light breathing and shifting uncomfortably in your seat, trying to hide the pain that’s serenading through your body. Joel’s eyes keep flicking over to you, a pained expression masking his tanned face. He’s clenching his jaw, running his fingers through his dark locks, fisting the steering wheel until his knuckles are white.
His head turns to you when he’s stopped at a red light, and his eyes turn a lighter honey color, and those soft eyes nearly shatter you in your seat. “You don’t have to be. Alone. You don’t have to be alone anymore...”
You swallow back the tears building in your eyes while your mouth drops open in awe. Before you even get the chance to say anything, he’s stepping on the gas and looking back into the fog of the rainy day.
You don’t have to be alone anymore.
The rest of the ride is silent as you contemplate his words and their meaning. You don’t have to be alone. He means you don’t have to be alone because he’s here now. He won’t let you be alone. Joel is the one person who isn't giving up on you.
He’s so patient, so generous, so good. He’s too good for you but here he is, wading through the rough waters to make sure your head’s above the waves. He won’t let you drown. Not today, maybe not ever…
After a few more minutes, the truck is abruptly stopping, and Joel is cutting the engine. Your head lurches up, and you stare vacantly at the semi-busy parking lot.
The parking lot…
It looks just like the one you got taken from… Rows of parked cars sit along the damp cement, empty carts are scattered ahead in the little blue cart holder, people rush to and from the store back to their cars. And then you see a man exit his white Sedan with a black baseball cap backwards on his head. The sight has you flinching, your nails digging into the leather of the seat when he turns his head and looks directly at you. It’s only for a second, but you feel those black pits searing into your skull just like that day they took you…
“Well, here we are. A little more crowded than I thought it’d be for a Wednesday afternoon. We can jus’—.”Joel’s hand clasps the side of the driver’s door as he steps out, looking back at you with worried brown eyes. “Hey, you okay?”
It’s like your voice is lurched deep in your throat as water consumes your entire vocal cords. You can’t swallow, can’t speak, can barely even blink as you watch the shady man cross the road, taking one look back at you until he disappears behind the clear sliding doors of the store. And it still feels like he’s watching you, planning his next move to where he can get you alone.
You remember that day all over again, just like it was yesterday. And now, all you can think of to do is panic.
“N… no. I—.” You can’t even finish your sentence, only able to throw your seatbelt off and claw at the door handle, feeling like you’re suffocating on thick air that nearly strangles you to death.
You need to flee, run until your lungs collapse, but you have nowhere to go.
Tears well in your eyes as you fight to push out the images of the day you were taken, but they only push back harder, igniting your memories into fresh ones. You’re hyperventilating, holding your chest so tightly that you feel your heart skyrocket as you shake in your seat while your feet are planted on the wet cement of the parking lot.
Joel hurries around the side of the truck and throws your door open, trying his best to calm you down. “Hey, hey. It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. Breathe for me.”
“Joel… I…”
“Breathe,” he coaxes in a soothing bravado voice. He kneels down in front of you to where he’s looking right up at you, and he’s got those soft brown eyes — the ones that always seem to calm you down. And when you have enough courage to lift your eyes, there they are. Warm, brown, soft, soothing. He’s soothing.
“That’s it. Take a nice deep breath for me. Jus’ like that. Attagirl,��� he praises, keeping his honey-colored eyes right on you.
“I—I was…” you start but like always, you can’t finish.
You’re pathetic.
“S’alright, sweetheart. M’right here. Jus’ breathe for me. And when you’re ready, tell me what’s wrong.” His hand brushes past your feet, close enough to touch your exposed ankle, but he never does. Because he knows better. He knows it’ll just set off a string of catastrophic events that’ll only lead you into a deeper black hole than you already are.
But yet, you can’t help but want it. Because you feel how warm he is. Just like that night he carried you to the bathroom. You remember how warm and comforting you felt with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, remember his woodsy cologne drowning out your fight or flight panic, remember how gentle he was with you…
You slowly lift your eyes up and push away the screaming voices in your mind. They seem to come to a jarring halt when you meet those soft brown eyes and a face you swear has an angelic glow about it. His fingers flex against the floorboard, just enough to where you can feel the warmth from his tanned skin, and just that motion causes your heart to still for just a beat.
Warm. He’s so warm.
After a few more seconds of steady breaths and his heavy gaze honing in on you, you get enough courage to shakily let your words out. “I was—I was taken in a parking lot just like this. In the middle of the day. And I—I guess I wasn’t quite ready to see another one.”
He falls silent, and his face drops like he’s just seen a ghost. His eyes glaze over as a heavy hand rakes down his clipped beard, slowly dragging it over his lips as he takes in your words. “Oh. Christ, m’so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t even think ‘bout that before I brought you here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Shaking your head back and forth, you swallow and grimace. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t—I didn’t think I’d freak out. But then the memories hit me and I—I… it’s my fault. It’s all my—.”
He leans into the side of the truck, careful not to touch you, but still close enough to where you can almost taste his woodsy breath. “Shh. Don’t for a second think of apologizin’, sweetheart. None of this is your fault. Not one fuckin’ bit of it.”
He looks at you so intensely, so cautiously that you can clearly see the amber flecks that swirl under the cloudy skies, his jaw flexing back and forth as he searches for more to say, but he doesn’t have to say anything. You feel what he’s feeling. Regret, rage, sorrow. He wishes it never happened to you.
You take a shaky breath and glance up behind him, right as an older couple with two kids clinging to their arms passes peacefully by. A car door slams shut across the way, and it makes you jump in place, remembering that very moment you were corralled into a black van as the door slammed shut behind you, warning you that you were trapped.
As you cringe in your seat and feel your knuckles go white, you whisper, “I’m scared, Joel. I can’t—I can’t...”
“Hey. Can you look up at me?” he asks gently, slightly brushing the pad of his thumb against the side of your shoe. When you look up with watery eyes, he gives you an encouraging nod. “There ya go.”
Your body is trembling with every swift movement and every screeching halt of tires in the parking lot. You start to drift back into a panic, but Joel sees right through you and pulls you right back out with his chocolate brown eyes.
“Keep your eyes on me. Right on me. That’s it. Such a brave girl,” he coos; his voice sounding like a melodic tune that vanishes all your dark thoughts from wrapping their tangled vines completely around your stirred mind.
As you continue to stare at those beautiful caramel eyes, you get lost in the sound of his Southern drawl. “I want you to focus on one thing. It can be anything. A scent, a color, whatever brings you comfort. And I want you to focus on that one thing until your mind starts to quiet down.”
You look around the truck, searching the fresh leather, letting your eyes wander to a nearby green tree, focusing on some drifting stormy clouds that cover the sun. But none of that makes you feel good or even remotely calm, so you let your eyes wander to the rugged, Southern gentleman who’s kneeling right in front of you, begging with those soft brown eyes for you to get even just a semblance of a second of peace.
Warm. He’s so warm.
You get lost in his cinnamon, woodsy scent, fade into his coffee-colored eyes and feel like you’re crashing right into him. You can’t seem to stop staring, almost like you’re under a lovesick spell, but really it’s just your body telling you he is what brings you comfort. Joel Miller, the man who saved you from your impending doom.
So, that’s what you focus on. Him and his warm brown eyes.
“Okay,” you finally whisper out, never dropping your eyes from his.
He looks at you a second and tilts his head, making sure he heard you right. “You got it?”
“Mhm,” you hum back.
A faint smile appears on his mouth and then his hand is skimming the brim of the floor, close enough for you to feel the electricity from his touch zapping your leggings. But still, he doesn’t dare touch you. He’d never do it without your permission. You know this now.
“Now, close your eyes and picture that one thing that’s gonna drown out everything else,” he says through the light rain pattering on the tips of his broad shoulders, right onto his soft blue flannel.
“Joel…” you reply back leery.
“You trust me?” he asks with knit together eyebrows.
You chew your bottom lip for a second before you answer, throwing the question back and forth between your brain. “I—yes.”
He gives you a smile and nods. “Close ‘em for me then. Jus’ for a second.” You do exactly as he says.
When your eyes are fully shut, his Southern drawl floats through your ears. “Focus on my voice, sweetheart. Focus on how still it is; make your heart that same rhythm. Slow it down, jus’ like my words.”
You focus on every breath he breathes, every sound of the shift of his shoulders, every whisk of the wind sweeping through his tousled curls. For this moment, every single other restless sound outside the truck is silent. For the first time, all you hear is him.
You center your mind on him and him alone. And when that whiff of cedar trees and mahogany swirl all around you, you relax and breathe him in like he’s the last thing you’ll ever smell.
“Now, open your eyes,” he says after you lose track of time.
You slowly lift your eyelids and look out beneath your lashes as those bright brown eyes send you into a cloud of serenity. And in that moment, you really do feel like you’re home.
“There ya go, nice and slow. Feel that? Things are a bit quieter now,” he says gently, giving you a soft smile that makes you choke back tears.
Nodding, you reply, “Yeah, it actually is quieter.”
It’s quiet for a beat as you sit there, your palms on your thighs, fingers digging into your leggings, but his presence right in front of you is oddly calming. Just like taking a deep breath of Washington air in the mountains. You swear you almost smell those pine trees like you’re there, but it’s Joel you smell.
“You feel a little better?” he asks, scratching his fingers down his greying scruff, brown eyes flicking up at you like you’re the most important thing in the room.
“Yes,” you nod, still trying to wrap your mind around how quickly Joel was able to calm you down.
“See? Knew you could do it.” His smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and it makes you give him a shy smile in return.
When’s the last time someone was able to get you to smile? You can’t even remember.
“I did it because you helped me,” you confirm, wanting to make sure he knows he was the reason you had the courage to break through your panic attack.
“That’s right, sweetheart. I helped you, but you were the one that broke the panic attack. You’re so very brave, and I hope you know that.”
You’re so brave. He called you brave.
The way he’s looking at you makes your heart skip a beat. All soft and gentle and warm. You’ve never been around a man like Joel. Never once knew how good a man could be. But Joel, he’s like an angel sent from Heaven’s gates just for you. Or so it seems.
You swore to never trust a man again, but you can trust him.
“Now, you think you can make it in the store?” He tilts his head in the direction of the sliding doors, just as a young couple walks in with an empty grocery basket.
Gulping some courage down, you nod. “I—I think so.”
“Attagirl. Now, c’mon.” He holds the door open for you and calls your name softly, giving you that jolt you need to exit the truck. “It’s alright. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya. Not while I’m here.”
“You promise?” you ask when your feet hit the concrete, your voice shaky like you don’t quite believe him, but you do.
“Promise,” he nods, his crow’s feet pulling at the corners of his bright eyes. It’s enough to get your legs moving.
“Okay,” you whisper.
You follow closely on his heels, your fingertips grazing the bottom of his flannel, close enough to grab on if you need to. Your heart is galloping a thousand miles an hour with every step you take, but his woodsy scent is just enough to quiet down the yelling in your head.
When you get to the edge of the sliding doors, you freeze when they open to a busy grocery store. The loud noises of rustling bags and screeching wheels of carts is enough to make you want to run the opposite way.
Joel must sense your worry because he brushes his arm next to yours and looks down at you with knitted eyebrows. “S’alright. I’m gonna be right by your side every step of the way. You can do this.”
You can do this.
Looking up into his syrupy brown eyes gives you that little bit of strength to get you moving again. And when he grabs a shopping cart and beckons you to follow him, you do.
“Thanks for believing in me, Joel,” you say graciously.
“Always.”
You keep right by his side, the fluorescent lights feeling like spotlights shining down on you. It’s like every single person shifts their eyes toward you, faces distorted and smiling like they’re laughing at your fear. The music that filters out of the speakers makes your ears ring. Children run rampant around a restless mother, a tall man with a backwards baseball cap reaches across a barrel full of pineapples, and it’s as if he’s reaching for your wrist.
Without thinking, you grab on to the end of Joel’s flannel and tug it toward you, digging your fingers into the soft cotton as if it’s a safety blanket. The smell of fresh firewood and green grass envelops your senses and for the moment, everything becomes a little more still.
“You keep tuggin’ on my flannel and you’re gonna pull it right off,” Joel chuckles, giving you a small smile as he looks back at you.
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, dropping your fingers as if you just upset him.
“Don’t gotta apologize. You jus’ hang on if that’s what you need right now.”
You slowly reach back up and flex your fingers around the blue material, peeking up hesitantly beneath your lashes.
“Your flannel, it smells like the forest. Reminds me of the mountains in Washington. It umm… it calms me down.”
“Well then, it’s yours, sweetheart.” Those pools of honey liquid melt you on the spot; his warm smile takes the edge of fear off your chest for just that moment. And when that whiff of autumn from his white t-shirt floats through the air, it’s like he saved you all over again.
He drops his hands from the shopping cart and starts unbuttoning his flannel, carefully shrugging it off his broad shoulders as you stare blankly up at him. And then, he’s holding out the faded blue material to you.
“No, I can’t. I’m fine. I—.” You take a step back and press a palm his way.
“Here, put it on,” he insists, stretching his arm until you have no option but to take it.
“Are you sure?” you squeak out, unsure of yourself.
“Mhm. Want you to feel safe. And if this makes you feel a little calmer, want you to wear it.”
Hesitating, you carefully pluck it from his reach and end up sliding your hand against the back of his, feeling a tingle of a spark from his worn, calloused skin.
“Thanks, Joel,” you whisper above the monotone music playing over the store speakers.
“Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.” He nods his head toward the produce section and smiles. “C’mon.”
You stay right beside him, almost flush to his hip with every wavering stride you take, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. No, he just keeps his brown eyes flickering over to you every minute that ticks by, encouraging you with that kind smile of his, telling you with the curve of his lips that you’re doing so well. You can almost hear that Southern drawl sliding off his tongue.
I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Doin’ so good. Look at you, bein’ the bravest girl I know.
Even though he’s not verbally saying those things at this second, you can tell he’s thinking it with the way his doe eyes soften every time they look your way. You can tell by how warm and kind his essence is, how his smile seems to send a flicker of sunshine your way even behind a thick wall of grey clouds.
He’s just… safe. You feel so safe around him, and that’s something you’ve never felt in your entire life. You’ve never been safe. But with him, you just might be.
The clicking of heels and the stare of curious eyes makes you physically cringe and tense your shoulders, thinking one of them will snatch you away yet again. You keep your mind busy by counting the threads of Joel’s blue flannel, training your eyes on his slicked back tan curls, meticulously staring at every single strand that’s wrapped in a silver glow. It seems to help, gives the impression that maybe you can do this. And you are.
At times when he strays too far, you reach for him unintentionally. It’s like your hand is magnetized to the feel of his cotton shirt, your fingers curling into the thick material. And again, he doesn’t seem to mind, only smiles and goes on with gathering groceries.
He doesn’t forget the caramel, doesn’t forget to grab a few bottles of vanilla creamer and extra sugar. In fact, those were the things he went for first.
He doesn’t forget things. Doesn’t forget what you wanted. And that in itself proves something. What, you’re not sure. But it proves he cares, that you do know.
You follow him to the produce section and watch him shift his focus on picking the best meat, promising to get the best steak for dinner. You haven’t had steak in years, and you don’t doubt for one second that Joel can cook a mean one.
Averting your eyes from his pensive stare and flexed jaw, your gaze wanders over to the cereal aisle, and you suddenly have the biggest craving for a box of Cocoa Pebbles.
Saliva gathers in your mouth as you think of how sugary and good and delightful a mouthful of chocolatey goodness would taste right now. Without thinking, you pull on the end of his shirt, stretching the material mindlessly as your brain transfixes on the mountain of sugar just a few feet away. It’d be so easy to go grab a box, but your feet won’t move, your words won’t form because you’re terrified to be alone for even a second in a grocery store of all places.
With one more slight tug on the edge of his t-shirt, he turns with a soft expression and questions, “What is it, sweetheart?” No anger or hint of annoyance in his Southern drawl, just pure warmth.
Your voice stays silent, your immense stare fixed on that aisle of sugar and thousands of calories you’d happily inhale. You’re sure your frail body would thank you, even if it was just junk. Joel’s eyes trace over yours, following to where yours end, and then a small chuckle leaves his lips. “You wanna go grab some?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on then. Why don’t you go pick some out?” He nods to the empty aisle, encouraging you on. But you stand there like your feet are cemented to the shiny floor, and you have no intention of moving.
Fear pulses through your blood, and anxiety is trickling down your spine. Joel takes a step forward and drawls in a low but soothing voice, “S’okay. I’ll be right here watchin’. You can do it, sweetheart.”
You look up and see warm pools of honey staring down at you and a smile that makes your knees feel weak. He’s so fucking soft with you.
Nodding, you take a step forward and then another, dragging your feet toward the aisle of boxes of sugary goodness. The further you get away from him, the more anxious you get.
What if someone takes you, gets too close to your liking, grabs your arm and drags you away? Looking back toward Joel, he gives you a small nod, telling you it’s okay. You’re okay.
Turning back to your task at hand, you start scanning the shelves, your appetite suddenly stimulated as you scavenge for what you’re looking for. Saliva is coating the back of your tongue, your stomach rumbling. There’s too many choices, too many kinds you want.
When you finally spot a box of Cocoa Pebbles, you see two more kinds you want. Lucky Charms and Cinnamon Toast Crunch sit right next to each other, calling your name for you to take them. Gritting your teeth together, you make a choice. You want all three, so you dip into your impulses and grab them all up. Hopefully Joel doesn’t mind.
A middle-aged man passes you in the row, and your muscles tighten around you, making you squish the boxes together in your arms. You focus on deep breaths, telling yourself he’s not going to hurt you. Not every man is out to get you, but it certainly feels like that now. Maybe one day you’ll be able to break the cycle of thinking that.
Quickly passing the stranger, you prance up to Joel, all three cereal boxes shoved together in your arms, just like you’re a kid in a candy store. You hear him chuckling before you lift your eyes up to him, and then he lets out a belly-aching laugh.
“Look at you with three boxes. You really do have a sweet tooth, don’t ya?”
You feel your cheeks grow warm as you set the boxes down in the cart. Nervous laughter filters out of your mouth. “I couldn’t quite decide what I wanted. I can put some back if…”
“No. I’m jus’ teasin’, sweetheart. You get as many kinds as you want. Ain’t got a limit with me.” His wide grin and crow’s feet makes a small smile tug at the corner of your lips.
“Thanks,” you say shyly. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had any cereal, or really any kind of sugar. So, this is different. I’m not used to any of this.”
Understanding hits his brown eyes and his jaw clenches as something tosses through his mind. “Well, we’re jus’ gonna have to change that, ain’t we?”
Pursing your lips, you nod. “Call me a work in progress.”
He gives you a soft smile and wraps a large hand around the cart. “You’re doin’ jus’ fine, sweetheart. Makin’ plenty of progress jus’ by steppin’ foot in this store today. Proud of you.”
He’s proud of you.
“I wouldn’t have even made it into the store if it wasn’t for you…”
He takes a long look at you and just stands there for a few seconds, searching for the right words to say. “It was all you, sweetheart. You jus’ needed a little push in the right direction and someone to be there for you.”
“Thank you for being there when I needed someone, Joel…” you whisper, your eyes a little misty with emotions running rampant through your body.
It looks like he wants to reach out, but he just grips the handle of the shopping cart tighter and tips his head. “‘Course, sweetheart. Whenever you need me.”
Whenever you need me. The words get stuck on repeat in your brain as you follow him through the rest of the grocery store. You think you’d follow him anywhere.
When you’re all checked out and the bagged groceries are sitting inside the cart, you realize Joel’s flannel is still wrapped around you. You don’t want to take it off necessarily. It smells like him, and it’s so warm and cozy and basically drenched in forest air. But, it’s not yours. You slowly start to shed the warm layer, but he stops you before you can get it past your elbows.
“Keep it, sweetheart.” He presses a palm out, pausing you in your tracks.
“Don’t you want it back?” you ask with knitted brows.
“Nah, you go ahead and keep it,” he answers. Before you can walk out the door, he turns and smiles warmly at you. “Besides, it looks better on you.” And then he continues on, like he didn’t just give you a compliment.
It looks better on you.
You hug the blue flannel back against your body, breathing in the very essence of him that seems to calm every single nerve in your body.
He gave you his flannel.
Once the groceries are all packed away in the back of the truck and both you and Joel are buckled up, he turns to you before driving out of the parking lot. “So, you wanna go get ice cream?”
“Ice cream?”
“Mhm. Ice cream,” he confirms.
“Whatever for?” you giggle.
“Don’t you like ice cream?” he inquires, flicking his brown eyes over your way.
“Well, yes. But…”
“I think brave girls deserve ice cream. Don’t you?”
You study him, looking for any sign of lies in the crow’s feet that pull tightly around the edges of his chocolate brown eyes, but you find none. He isn’t messing with you or your mind; he’s being completely sincere when he uses the word brave. “You think I’m a brave girl?”
“The bravest.” He smiles, his eyes twinkling like golden orbs under the grey skies, and it just confirms how warm he is.
You gawk at him, your lips parting as you just stare and stare at him. He thinks you’re brave, and he wants to take you for ice cream? Who even is this man?
“What?” He catches you staring and probably wonders why you’re just marveling over him. He must not realize you’re completely mesmerized by every single thing he does.
No one’s ever treated you so human. Like you’re important and matter. Joel sees you. He really sees you. Your layers and all. Just like transparent glass.
“You just surprise me, that's all,” you answer hesitantly, eyes still focused on his tanned skin and wrinkles that line like maps across his face. Something you could trace easily. “You’re not exactly what I expected, I guess.”
“And what’d you expect?” He quirks an eyebrow up as the engine hums under your seat, his eyes making their way back to your face.
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think you’d be so… kind.”
He curls his lips into a sideways smile while he taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel, eyes still focused directly on you. “I try my best, sweetheart.”
“You don’t even have to. You just are. Just like that first night I saw you sitting there across the room. Your eyes seemed so… kind.”
Everything seems to quiet down for a moment, only the sound of your heart, the slow motion of the tires hitting the wet pavement, the thick tension coursing through the air, and Joel’s clear brown eyes that are smothering your insides. They speak louder than tidal waves, those deep brown irises. And right now, they’re making your heart clench in your chest.
He clears his throat and then the tension dissipates. “So, how ‘bout that ice cream?” He wraps his large palm around the steering wheel and smiles over, making you mirror one right back to him.
“I’d love some ice cream.”
“Attagirl. Let’s go get you sugared up, then.” As he pulls out of the shopping center and drives down the smooth road, you giggle silently and watch the trickles of raindrops drip down the side of the passenger window.
“Have you ever tried espresso ice cream?” you ask, shifting your weight so you can see the question roll over his brown eyes.
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”
“I think you’d like it,” you chirp.
He turns his head and looks at you, pulling his lips into a smirk. “Reckon I would. That what you recommend?”
“Mhm,” you hum. “Since you like coffee so much, might be your new favorite flavor.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Well, looks like that’s what I’m gonna have to get. Let’s see what other recommendations you have for me.”
As you lean against the window, you place the back of your hand over your mouth to cover the blush that's building in your cheeks. Who knew this is where you’d be in the middle of Wednesday afternoon this time of year? In a truck, wearing Joel’s flannel, getting ice cream, being free of your captors… And all you can smell is the fresh woodsy scent of him surrounding you.
Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller angst#healing fic
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Unexpected — ༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔*:・
Extended verison of caught off guard !! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
Pairing: Brother’s best friend!Heeseung x fem!reader
Synopsis: You're shocked to discover that your longtime crush Heeseung is now friends with your brother, leading to a fanfiction-like (literally) story.
Genre/warnings: fluff, little suggestive?, brother's bestfriend, reader is 3 years younger, mention of stalking, alloooottt of teasing, no dividers in between the paragraphs… | wc: 25k I think.
𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: im so extremely sorry for the ungodly word count I wrote each part separately and forgot to take in consideration the amount of writing I was doing.. The poll said to not make this into parts so I just put it all in one post though!!!!!!! + Masterlist coming soon, request me your suggestions (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ okay enjoy now
Your brother had made new friends during the first semester because of a lot of senior group projects, which made the house busy. Your brother and his friends wanted more quiet places to work on things, like each other's houses. It's strange that it was always at your house and not his friends' or the library, but whatever.
You didn’t mind much, until a particular someone came over, Heeseung, the 6’0 slim brunette senior you’ve been crushing on since you were in middle school, now a freshman. You followed him around everywhere with your friends, making it so obvious that you guys were following HIM. You would send him holiday letters provided by the school, stall his social media, follow his friends and him at one point until he removed you over a silly kpop story... everything… and now, he’s with your brother?! Since when!
Bad thoughts filled your mind as you remembered all the embarrassing moments he caught you staring at him, thinking that he’d tell your brother all of it if he sees you and finds out that you’re the sister of the guy he’s getting closer to each day. But you were hungry, so hungry, you needed to eat, you always do before taking a nap, it’s like a routine, he can’t just ruin your routine. You start making plans on how to get to the kitchen without Heeseung and your brother spotting you. After a few minutes of thinking, you finally build up the courage to get downstairs and pray for the best.
You tip-toe your way down the stairs, attempting to make as little noise as possible, and to your surprise, the two boys are on the island table right across the fridge, you’re doomed, he’s going to see you, you can’t just walk back upstairs!
“Y/n? What are you doing, you look so stupid right now.” Your brother blurts out which makes you jolt up and fix your posture. Shoot. You forgot that they can see you from their perspective more than you can see them. But you act fast, “huh? Oh! Hi um.. I was just counting how many steps we have to the stairs.. for a math project!” What the heck was that response? Whatever, it’ll do. As you finish your sentence, you give yourself an excuse to get closer so that it doesn’t get too awkward, and there he is, the Heeseung of your dreams, locking eyes with you with his stale and cold expression planted on his face, not one tiny bit of shock in his face when seeing you.
“Hey by the way, don’t take a nap, mom wants you to help her with groceries, she’s coming in a minute, wait in the living room or something just don’t go back upstairs” your brother says before putting all his focus back to the project he’s doing with sousou. At this point, you mutter out a small “okay” and forget the snack you came downstairs for, heading to the couch to go on your phone and act like nothing happened(secretly glancing at Heeseung from time to time.)
30 minutes later, your mother comes back while your brother and mister take a bathroom break. You head to the garage, opening the door for your mother to bring the groceries in for you to then place them on the counter. You’re holding big heavy bags, making you groan trying to pick them all up, then all of a sudden, as you're trying to get up, you feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, thinking you're stronger than you thought, but to your surprise… It's the dream man helping you. “Are you that lazy? Couldn’t you have just picked them one at a time? Hm?” He says as he coughs out a small chuckle, picking up the bags with ease. You can’t do anything but stare at him and place them on the table, your lips forming an O but unable to make a sound or blurt any words out. Before you get yourself to say anything, he cuts you off with a “You’re not slick, we both know exactly why you’re so shy” what…????? “I’m not shy at all?! I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You scream before the nervousness gets to you. You never thought your first conversation with Heeseung was going to be like this. “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what you do? All the letters you sent me the past 2 years? Common now, I’m not stupid hhh…” suddenly, he lets go of the bags and gets closer to you, your brother still in the washroom and your mother still outside. His cold expression is still there but with a slight smirk. Your cheeks and nose get red quickly, making him only grin harder as he sees the effect he has on you. “You wouldn’t want your brother to see all the cheesy things you’ve done, let alone your mother, hmph? Of course you wouldn’t want that, you’re such a nice girl they would never think you’d do that, you’re just a sweet girl who goes to school and hangs out with her friends, definitely doesn’t beg them to follow me around, right?” He’s so close to you, his words only making you blush harder. His eyes shift to the door as he watches your mother call for him “Oh hello Heeseung! Would you be a sweetheart and help me with these bags? Y/n, please put the milk away! I forgot something at that store, I need to go back and pick it up.” Of course, the young man quickly obeyed your mother and helped her out, leaving you red and shoving your face in the fridge to cool down, you’re cooked, you have no idea what's taking your brother so long, but it feels like an eternity… Since when did LEE HEESEUNG have the courage to say that? What’s he gonna say next???? You keep replaying the words he said a few seconds ago, making you go crazy all over again.
Hours later, 22:00, your brother and his friend passed out on the counter of the kitchen as you were laying in bed, bored and unable to think of anything except the incident that happened earlier. Your best friend would always write fanfiction of you and hee as a joke, not thinking anything of it because you knew you were not delusional enough to think a guy 3 years older than you would actually notice you or look your way.
Abruptly, you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, wanting to wash the guilt written all over you face from the amount of overthinking. As you get to the entrance, you notice a black statue from across the hallway, making your heart drop as it walks closer to you. Suddenly, your screams wake up the entire neighborhood, "I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did but I'm sorry I'll never wish death upon anyone else who likes Mingyu and joshua! I promise god I'll never ever hope that all S.coups fangirls except me will fall in a hole!" you close your eyes shut as you squeal and think its the end of your days.
Until that skinwalker finally decides to open his mouth and.. "BOO!" Heeseung screams as he shakes your shoulders, not initially intending on scaring you until he realized that you couldn't see his figure. Why did it have to be him again?! "Hey, I'm joking, calm down, you're okay. It's just me. What was all that blabbering about?" he says, again, with his famous chuckle you've probably heard more than actual words from his mouth. "You can't just do that! It's dark, nighttime and it's just annoying!" you wail, feeling surprised that you managed to actually say something to his face. "Huh? feisty, calm down scaredycat, do you usually see things?" You swallow, knowing that you not only see things, but hear things at night as well.
There's an awkward silence between you two, both standing in the dark with nothing but the light of the bathroom reflecting on eachothers skin. "So? You ain't gonna speak ‘bout nothing YOU'VE been doing? You just gonna stay quiet like that?" You gulp hard, since when was he this bold and confident? What did he expect you to say, then there you are, too scared and shy to talk again, obvious shyness on your face, making heeseung aware of it, once again. He would always secretly tease you, manspread in front of you while looking at you, trying not to stare at him back and attempting to put all your focus on your friends. He would lean against the wall and look at you up and down as you walked past him, with your face buried in your friend's back, trying not to go crazy over his state. He knew the effect he had on you, since the start, it boosted his ego the most. "You shy, doll?" He whispers as he gets closer, not scared of anyone catching you both being so close, almost heads touching.
“W-what if someone catches us like this?, you can't be so close..” You mutter under your breath, forcing the words out of your mouth knowing that you don't really want him to move. “Hm? You gonna stop me? I'll stop if you tell me to, you just gotta use your words, pretty” he whispers once again, looking down on you as he pushes both your bodies onto the wall near the door of the bathroom with his chest. Your lips are shut, unable to get yourself to push him away or say a word.
He feels you slowly giving in, he knows you would, you might know information about you but he knows all your body language, he knows how nervous you get when you're alone with him and he's ready to take advantage of you all. GO HIT THAT GUM JILGEONG!!(sorry i got bored) You feel 1000 knots in your stomach from his breath hitting you cold neck, seconds later, “Take me to your room.”
Saying that his words shocked you was a huge understatement, you were feeling so many emotions that you just went numb. Sight went foggy and you couldn't think anymore, the last thing you remembered was showing him the way to your bedroom. Heading to your bed with wobbly legs due to the fear you were feeling, you had zero idea on what was going to happen. How is this the first day you talk to Heeseung and it's already this crazy? You always imagined scenarios and insane stuff, but now it feels like you just manifested them all because this craziest one is coming to life.
“Cute room. Surprised you don't have any photos of me.” The tall man says as he throws himself on the bed. At this point, you would've been able to speak to him like a normal person, but all his flirtatious words made u only use your movements, no verbal communication in sight. He stares at your BT21 plushies with disgust, pushing them off the bed with his foot, is he really still annoyed about that instagram post? Or is he still jealous? “Hate those people” he huffs as he turns to his side, seeming amused with your sweet candy-like scent on your bed. “Why are you scared of your own bed?” He comments as he watches you stare at him from your desk, realizing that you arent on your bed because HE'S ON IT. “I-im not scared, maybe you're just too big for my bed and I can't fit.. Fatty..” ‘What'd you just call me?’ “Huh? What! I didn't say a-anything?” ‘No no i deeefinitely heard something, did you just call me fat?’ “Okay yes! I did, am I lying though? You're not slick, I know the locker you share with Jay is greasy as hell!” you squeal as you make a disgusted face. ‘Yeah? You saw me get out of class to get a cookie too? Or were you too busy trying to hide from me to be able to see what was in my hand?’ Shoot, You cant reply to him with anything, both answers are wrong.. ‘Yeah that's what i thought.’
“W-what are you doing in my room, why do you wanna be here?” You ask him, innocently. ‘Because I don't break my back sleeping on the couch and I have enough manners to not barge into your brother's room when he's asleep.’ “It's better if you sleep in my brother's room than anyone finding out you slept in mine…” 'I'll leave before anyone wakes up. Comon, I wont do anything.’ It's not like he’d do anything anyway, he's as nonchalant as ever and obviously wouldn't try anything on you, he knows you wouldn't actually give into THAT, plus, he's glad youre not like that, atleast at your age.
As Heeseung takes over your bed, you are still in shock. He is sprawled out like he owns the place, watching you from the other side of the room with a small smile on his face. When someone dares to call you out on your personal space, you feel both irritated and agitated.
He pats the empty spot on the bed beside him with the same smirk and asks, “Are you really just going to stare at me from over there?”
You pause, but you cannot maintain any resistance and end up stumbling over. You take care to maintain some distance between you while sitting on the edge, but he does not let you off that easily.
Hee laughs and creeps closer, making you all too aware of the distance vanishing between you two. “Calm down, I don’t bite.” When you look up, you see him observing you with that recognizable sparkle in his eye that indicates he is relishing every moment of it.
You make an effort to minimize it by rolling your eyes, but your cheeks’ redness most likely shows that you are not paying much attention. “Heeseung, what are you even doing here? Wouldn’t you be better off downstairs or not settling into my room?”
With a low chuckle, he leans back comfortably without shifting. With a playful tone, he raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, do you not like me here? Your mom is still out shopping, and your brother is unconscious. I thought, why don’t I keep you company since it’s just the two of us?”
Even though he still teases, his eyes are now softer. For a moment, he seems to be genuinely interested in you rather than just making jokes, as if he is looking at you differently than he has in the past. As the air between you thickens and you feel trapped but unwilling to move, your pulse quickens.
He leans forward abruptly, getting so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure you actually want me to leave?” He whispers as his gaze moves over your face, capturing every tiny expression you are unable to conceal.
You catch the words in your throat. Before you can respond, he raises one hand and gently brushes a flyaway hair out of your face, his fingers remaining in place for a beat too long.
He whispers, “Tell me to stop, and I will,” in a low voice that is so intimate it chills you.
However, for some reason, you remain silent. You cannot decide whether you want him to stay or enjoy the excitement of him being this close to you and staring at you as if you are the only person in the room.
All he does is smile, that knowing smile returning to his face. He leans back and whispers, “Thought so,” remaining close enough to feel the electricity of the distance.
The weight of the moment presses down on you in the most euphoric way, making it seem like it will last forever. Even though Heeseung’s smile is still there, his eyes seem softer now, almost tender. He seems to be assessing each response, blush, and look as though recording them all.
In a low, informal voice, he begins, “So.” “Will you explain to me why you stare at me all the time, or will you continue to act as though it’s not obvious?”
He tilts his head, leaning a little closer to make sure you are not escaping too easily, but your face turns red hot, your heart pounding, and you quickly turn your head away. Please do not be so shy around me right now. He laughs softly and adds, “We both know you have been looking for a while.”
It feels like the words are stuck in your throat when you try to say something. He moves, keeping you cornered with his arm braced against the headboard next to your shoulder. The closeness is dizzying.
At last, you are able to find your voice. “I’m not… Really, I wasn’t. It’s not as if I—” His gaze prevents you from forming a coherent sentence, so you trail off.
Evidently taking pleasure in your agitated state, he laughs. “So it was not intentional that I always caught you staring at me in the hallway or whenever you passed by with your friends?”
Your lack of response is sufficient, and he smiles, obviously enjoying your response.
He leans slightly closer, until you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, and murmurs, “I guess I was right, huh?” He says quietly, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” in a tone that has become more earnest and almost comforting. “I kinda enjoy it.”
You look up and meet his eyes as those final words give you a start. They have an unexpected quality that makes it seem as though he has known you as well as you have known him. There is still teasing, but it has a deeper, more genuine undertone.
“Wait—what?” Your voice barely rises above a whisper as you manage to blurt out.
His eyes remain fixed on yours as he smiles, softer this time. “Are you sure you don’t know?”
You do not trust yourself to say anything more, so you shake your head. He sighs as if he is having a hard time believing what he is going to say.
“Y/n,” he whispers, “I have been interested in you since long before tonight.”
The words linger between you, vibrating with an intensity that catches you completely off guard, and you freeze. Heeseung’s eyes soften, becoming completely serious instead of playful. His closeness now seems more like a confession than a tease.
You mumble, “Wait,” hardly believing your own voice. “You have not been ignoring me?”
He nods slowly, his previous sly smile giving way to something more real and vulnerable. “Yes, I have noticed you, but I wouldn’t say I have been staring at you. Do you think I have not noticed your gaze on me? Or the way you become silent around me? It’s clear, y/n.”
You are rendered speechless by the shock of what he said. Your heart is thumping in your chest and your mind is racing as you try to process this new reality. You have always known Heeseung was self-assured, perhaps even arrogant, but this? You have never seen him like this before. It is honest and unvarnished, and for a split second, you cannot even tell if you are dreaming.
Trying to gather yourself, you ask, “Are you serious?” but your words come out more breathless than you meant.
He responds softly, “I don’t joke about this kind of stuff,” as his thumb lightly brushes the side of your arm, warming your skin. “I have been trying to determine whether you were feeling the same way or if I was just dreaming.”
Your pulse quickens at the thought, and you bite your lip. The air feels heavier and thicker now, and the room feels smaller. In this moment of unsaid tension, everything around you seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you.
You do not say anything for a few seconds, allowing his words to register. You have long admired Heeseung from a distance and wondered what it would be like to be near him. However, you never imagined that he would share your sentiments. And now here he is, publicly acknowledging it, his eyes full of sincerity.
“I…,” you finally manage to say, “I did not know you would notice,” in a hesitant and low voice. “After all, I believed I was being subtle. I did not want to cause any strangeness.”
Hee laughs, his voice deep and comforting. “Clever? You? I promise you, y/n, there is nothing subtle about the way you gaze at me. However, I enjoy it. I have enjoyed it for some time.
For a moment, you question whether you are dreaming as the words hit you like a wave. The fact that he is sitting so close to you and that his hand is now resting on the bed between you two, inches from where yours is, makes the entire situation seem unreal. Even though everything is so personal, there is still a lot of uncertainty, which makes it difficult to completely unwind.
You ask, just above a whisper, “So, what now?” as a mix of anxiety and excitement rises inside of you.
Heeseung’s face softens as he inhales deeply. “Now?” he asks in a soft yet purposeful tone. “y/n, all I am waiting for now is for you to say what you want. Because I am listening to whatever it is. I would rather not hurry you. I have been waiting for you to solve it as well.”
For the first time in what seems like an eternity, you release the tension that has been building between you, and your heart skips a beat. You see the honesty and rawness that mirror your own feelings when you look into his eyes.
You look at him with fresh clarity and say, “I think I have figured it out,” in a quiet but firm voice.
It is the same spark in his eyes that has always held you, and Heeseung’s smile is back, albeit softer this time. “Yes? What did you discover?”
As you slowly extend your hand and touch his, you sense a spark of electricity.
His smile grows, and everything seems to be in harmony at that precise moment. There is no longer any hesitation or act of deceit. Now that you and him are at last in agreement, you can look forward to seeing where this unspoken bond may take you.
With his hand now resting on top of yours, Heeseung whispers, “I am glad you figured it out,” his voice barely audible above a whisper. “Because I have been anticipating that statement from you.”
And then everything is different. Something new—something thrilling, something genuine—replaces the tension and the air feels lighter
Neither of you could have imagined as Heeseung leans in and lightly touches your lips. A thrill is sent through you by the gentle touch of Heeseung’s lips against yours, but it is cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic sweeps through you in a flash, and your heart jumps into your throat. With wide eyes, you instinctively glance at the door as though it might save you from the looming catastrophe as you swiftly pull back.
You hear your brother’s voice, loud and clearly irritated, as the door creaks open just a crack. “Y/nnie? Are you in there?”
Quick as ever, Heeseung leans back and puts just enough distance between himself and you to appear casual, but you can tell he is not nearly as shaken as you are by the way his eyes dart to you and the faint smile that is still tugging at his lips.
You force yourself to swallow in an attempt to control your panic. “Yes, I’m here!” you call out, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.
Your brother is standing in the doorway, obviously bewildered, as the door opens wider. His brow furrows in that manner that indicates he is going to ask a ton of questions, and he blinks twice as his eyes dart from you to Heeseung. “What on earth are you two doing in here?”
Your mind is a jumble of ideas and excuses as you fumble for the right words. “Nothin’! Nothing bad, really. We were just—uh, talking.”
Your brother folds his arms across his chest and his eyes narrow. “Talking?” he asks again in a suspicious tone. “You two talk like this all the time?”
Heeseung gives you a barely contained smile when you meet his gaze, as though he finds the entire situation humorous. He is not phased at all, of course, because he has always had that arrogant confidence that helps him get out of a tight spot. In the meantime, you are just a few seconds away from losing it due to embarrassment.
“Indeed, we were just catching up. We haven’t seen one another in a long time,” Heeseung’s voice is smooth and unaffected, as if a single sentence would allay your brother’s suspicions.
Your brother looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Catching up in her room, you two? Doesn’t that sound a bit suspicious?”
You give Heeseung a quick, frantic glance, hoping he will save you, but he is taking too much pleasure in this. “Again, we were just conversing. Nothing strange,” Heeseung says with a nonchalant shrug. “But we can go if you have to. I don’t want to invade your territory.” He says with a chuckle.
As though this whole exchange is one big headache he did not sign up for, your brother pauses, still glaring, and then sighs. Then he turns back to the door and murmurs, “Anyway, just don’t make it weird.” “You understand what I mean when I say that you don’t want to hear anything too strange from this room later?”
Heeseung shakes his head and lets out a barely contained laugh as he leaves. His voice is light as he says, “He’s got nothing on us,” but his grin remains mischievous and a bit too knowing.
With your heart still pounding, you release a breath you were unaware you were holding. You mutter, attempting to steady yourself by running a hand through your hair, “I can’t believe he just walked in like that.”
Leaning back against the bed, Heeseung laughs. “Slow down. In any case, he’s too ignorant to solve anything.”
Despite his playful tone, there is a surprising undertone of protectiveness in his voice. He looks you in the eyes, and for a brief moment, you are the only two of you. The tension from earlier returns, but this time it is different—more at ease.
You start to say, “Well, I suppose we should wait until he returns downstairs before we—” but Heeseung cuts you off, his eyes softening.
With a tone that conveys something unsaid, he asks softly, “Before we what?”
You look him in the eyes and feel the tension between you two return. This time, the separation between you is not about actual distance but rather about the potential outcomes and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. You can’t shake the feeling that something could change everything right in front of you.
You confess, “I… I don’t know,” not knowing how to move through the distance between you but unwilling to let go of the bond you have just found. “However, I am aware that I’m not yet prepared for him to solve this.”
With his confidence fully restored, Heeseung grins. “Don’t be concerned. We will resolve the issue. Furthermore, both you and I are aware of what really happens next.”
The ease with which he returns to his typical, carefree self makes you laugh and shake your head. However, you realize that perhaps—just possibly—you are ready to stop acting like everything is easy and let whatever happens between you and Heeseung play out naturally as you sit there with him and hear your brother’s voice reverberating in your head.
Reblogs & Comments are appreciated!
[ marsdql ] •⩊•
#enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#kpop#enha#enha x reader#enhypen fluff#enha ff#enha fluff#enha smau#enhypen ff#lee heeseung#lee heesung x reader#lee heesung smut#lee heeseung x y/n#lee heeseung fanfic#heeseung enha#heeseung smau#heeseung fanfiction#heeseung x reader#heeseung fluff#heeseung fanfic#heeseung smut#heeseung#kpop fluff
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been thinking a lot about frat!toman and being their sweetheart. i have many ideas but the one stuck on me is when they all just can't get enough of you! they all share but it's getting to a point where they're damn near ready to go through a barbaric war for you.
mikey, the frat prez, would treat you like an absolute princess like the most of them but with him you really are. he can do what he wants and say what he wants meaning you get whatever you want but he doesn't particularly enjoy it when you get mouthy. nobody else does either.
the only one who really seems to like it is nahoya, it really gets him going when you tell everyone how it is and make demands. what else gets him going is when he gets you to shut all that shit up. it's funny to him almost. you get a little bit of dick and everything you tried to stand on matters much less than before, in fact you've forgotten about it.
mitsuya is such a sweetheart when it comes to the frat sweetheart. he treats you like fine china, of course he has his moments but he's nowhere as rough as some of the others can be...he's your favorite, for a reason.
draken is also a nice one but don't get him wrong, he's very quick to snap you back into place if you're being too much of a...brat, he'd say. he's also king of casual dominance. he's sort of a mitsuya mixed with a baji. he'll always make sure you're okay while he's treating you and whatever you call that nasty thing between your thighs like nothing but a cumdump.
speaking of him, baji is such a tease. he's mean, to say the least. he likes to show you off, he's not scared of people knowing about the situation going on the frat. in his words, most people already think frat sweethearts get fucked like you. he can be nice, he's a gentleman of course but most of the time, he is such a meanie !!
however, this doesn't make him the meanest. chifuyu, whether you believe it or not, can be pretty fucking mean. he's such a sweetie, he loves you and adores you yet when you get him upset, he's torturing your poor clit for hours to the point you wish that nahoya was the one pissed off !! don't even get me started on how filthy his mouth will get...
kazutora is the real sweetheart though, him and souya both. kazutora is always so gentle with you, he takes you out on dates and treats you before he even thinks about getting between your legs. speaking of, he is a real eater !! he can cum just from eating you out and then he's satisfied for the day. but with the way he likes to cum, you'll be getting eaten out until kazutora has to get rid of his pants because of how much he stained them.
souya by far has to be the best gentleman. he waited so long to fuck you, he knew you were sore from the recent relationships in the frat and he wanted you to really feel him and everything he has to offer. he still does the same. he refuses to fuck you if someone else already had soon before him, the most he'll do is foreplay and enough to make you cum untouched. he hates seeing your pretty pussy all spoiled with someone else's cum!! all he wants is to stare at how his cum is so sheer spread all over your thighs and cunt.
but what they all fight about is who gets to do your aftercare and taking you out. as much as they love seeing you all fucked out, they love seeing that sweet smile when they give you a surprise date. the toman frat boys simply adore you !!
©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
#torasplanet.ᐟ#tokyo revengers x reader#marls-drabbles.ᐟ#tokyo revengers smut#toman#toman x reader#toman smut#frat!au#frat!toman#college au#tokyo rev#tokyo manji gang
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I had an idea to make a comic about what Shadow was doing while sonic was "dead" (it was planned to be test in writing sonadow while staying in-character), and it would focus on Tails a bit, I wrote a scene where shadow encounters Tails, it's unpolished, but here it is (this is about 3 months into Sonic's dissappearance):
T "you. what do *you* want?"
S "I'm looking for sonic-"
T "Sonic is gone!" (at this point Tails knows it's the real Shadow because he spoke, and phantoms didn't speak this early in yet)
S "Tails..."
T "you stood there and watched it happen!"
S "that-"
T "I DONT CARE! Shadow... I could have DONE SOMETHING! ...but I didn't, I watched as infinite killed him in seconds..."
S "Tails... *sigh* I know what you're going through-"
T "DON'T GIVE ME THAT! (Tails shoves Shadow) I could have jumped in with him to fight, like I always do... it wasn't like Maria! Sonic didn't stop me, I had all the chance to- ...I- I could've-" Tails starts to break down
Shadow sits next to him, closer than he usually gets with people
S "I know how much he meant to you... to everybody... I'm in no place to tell you how you should deal with this... I'm sure I'm just in denial, but I believe that Sonic is alive *somewhere*, he's too stubborn, I don't care how futile it is... I know that I'm probably just chasing a dead end... but I know Sonic, we both do..."
T "...that's how I know he's gone, he would have shown up by now, boasting about how 'it'll take more than that to knock me down, egghead!' ...but he didn't... (Tails looks at the surrounding machines with Eggman branding on it) Eggman won... he took over, and nobody could stop him... we lost, Shadow... it's over."
shadow gets up
S "we'll get through this, I promise to you" Shadow skates off, Tails suddenly notices how similar Shadow is to Sonic
(end)
that's all I got so far, but I also wrote the scene where shadow actually does find sonic, adding on to that scene we see in the real game, I wanted to share that too (4 months into sonics death):
Sonic was fighting Shadow (phantom) for "being on Eggman's side!" had his arms up for a block, but Shadow never hit him, he looks and sees the real Shadow beating the living daylights out of the Shadow Phantom (I wanted to go all out and make this fight longer to make the phantoms seem more threatening), the real Shadow turns to sonic, standing there in the shadows of the destroyed city
Sh "hmph, finally ...I found you, faker" he has a smile on his face
S "Faker? *I'm* the fake?"
Sh "of course, you're not even good enough to stand up to MY fakes"
S "*Ha! I'll make you eat those words" sonic seems weirdly angry, there's a lot of emphasis on 'eat', it has a disdainful bite to it
Sh "you really want to fight now?-"
Sonic lands a hook to Shadow's face
Sh "what? what are you- (blocks another strike) We have 2 clear enemies, and you're fighting me?"
Sonic continues to attack
S "you think I'm not GOOD ENOUGH to stand up to the ultimate lifeform!? Ha!"
Shadow continues to block attacks, this isn't sonic's fighting pattern at all, it's like he's fighting to kill
S "I'll show you just how WORTHLESS you are, Shadow" he barely whispers Shadow's name while he nearly yells 'worthless'
Sh "(worthless? ...Infinite!)"
(the comic continues, but I don't have more)
this is the point where the phantoms start speaking, also, OF COURSE infinite would have tricked people with Phantom Sonics, why DIDNT they do that? I want to add that the Phantom Sonics would've acted alot more like he actually does in the real Forces: out of character and one dimensional because the people making sonic don't understand his character (lol), and the real sonic in this would act like he does in Frontiers and IDW, he's just specifically out to mess with Shadow and freak him out here, also, he still can't control his rage for shadow calling him worthless
anyway, sorry for going on longer than i meant to lol
Tails was robbed in Forces. Which, I know. Understatement of the century and everyone’s talked about it. This is the same Tails who had beaten Chaos and gone toe to toe with Eggman by himself. And yeah, his cowardliness was so out of character.
But that’s not what I’m talking about here.
What I’m talking about is how they could’ve gone so hard into Tails watching Sonic die in front of him. And, more importantly, they could’ve done some amazing character parallels.
Because we have a character who watched their older siblings who was mainly associated with the color blue die in front of them. Shadow.
Imagine how much better Forces would be if we found a Tails who wanted to completely, utterly, annihilate Eggman. A Tails who has turned to anger just like Shadow did. Imagine that being the reason Tails had left. He wanted to kill Eggman and the others didn’t want to do so immediately.
Tails. The only person who can go toe to toe with Eggman intellectually. Imagine him deciding that maybe violence is the answer in this case. We’ve seen how he as a person is entirely capable of pretty extreme violence in Nine. Imagine that happening in Forced.
The parallels between Tails and Shadow are already there and I know people have mentioned it, but no where are they more prevalent than in Forces. They could’ve done so much with it.
Imagine a scene between Shadow and Tails where Shadow acknowledges how similar their situations are? Shadow comforting Tails? Ugh. They could’ve done so much!
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Please? - Peter Maximoff
Word Count: 3.5k
REQUESTED!
The Ask: I humbly ask for a Peter Maximoff smut, I'm thinking y/n either a: distracts him while he is playing his arcade games, b: using whipped cream to give him a lil sweet treat while fucking, or c: literally any smut of this man, I need him. Preferably him being a little cocky/silly, but when you actually do anything he is a whimpering mess praising you. - @envy-of-greed
I give you... Option A.
WARNINGS: SMUT! oral (m recieve), handjob, mommy kink, praise, reader is a tease, reader is MEAN, sub!peter, dom!reader, Peter becomes a MESS, reader calls him "pup" and "puppy" like once, aftercare, alluding to punishment
A/N: gonna work on a Spencer Reid fluff/comedic fic next
_____
Peter was annoying as hell.
She loved him to bits, she would do absolutely anything for him, but she was allowed to admit her boyfriend was a complete terror?
Y/N was peacefully sitting in her room when her telephone had rang. Placing down her magazine, she reached for it, bringing it to her ear, “Hello?”
“Babeeee,”
What a surprise this was. Peter Maximoff, who usually would just show up unannounced with his super speed, decided to give her a phone call?
“Peter? What’s the occasion?” she asked with a smile, leaning back against her pillows, twirling the telephone’s wire in her newly manicured fingers.
“Eh, I just remember you saying you like phone calls, the bonding or whatever. So i wanted to give you one.”
That made her heart melt. This little terror was sometimes a complete angel as well. “Yeah…” Y/N replied, “I love phone calls. Your voice sounds so nice on the phone, by the way,”
She could already picture him blushing. “I-It does? I mean, of course, yeah it does! I’m Peter freaking Maximoff, babe. Everything about me is top-tier,”
“You could work on your baking skills,” she mused, remembering literally every single time she would attempt to bake something with him. Flour everywhere. Remnants of cake or brownie batter on his face because he just had to eat some (a lot). Firealarm going off. Burnt baked goods. Every. Single. Time.
“Bitch! Every baking failure is your fault for always distracting me!” he whined in protest.
“How the hell do I distract you? I’m baking too!”
“ ‘Cause you’re pretty,” Peter replied cheekily, and she knew he would have wiggled his eyebrows if she could see him, “How am I supposed to focus?”
“Stop making excuses for your terrible baking skills. Even if I wasn’t there, you would be a mess,”
“For different reasons,” Peter scoffed, “I can’t bake by myself, I need your guidance,”
“But you can’t bake with me either because you allegedly get distracted. Sounds like you just can’t bake,”
“Fuck off,” he grumbled, making her laugh, “Let’s get to more important business: when can I pick you up?”
“I wasn’t aware of being picked up at all,”
“Yeah well I’m picking you up. I wanna spend some time with you!” she could hear his excited tone that was so uniquely Peter. Everything about him was unique. Everything about him was different and weird and strange and she loved every part of him.
“Well…” Y/N sighed, “I was going to start on some homework…”
“Boooo! College student booooo!”
“Shit, excuse me for wanting an education. Better than planning on living in my mom’s basement for the rest of my life,” she teased.
“Ouch. Fine. Can’t you do your homework later?”
“I’ve been procrastinating on it,” Y/N set down her magazine, getting off of the bed and walking to her desk, stretching her body as far as she could with the limits of the phone cord. Fingertips brushing against her notebook, she was able to grab it, nestling back into her bed and opening it, “Shit, it’s a lot.”
“Who cares? Finish it tomorrow!”
“It’s due in the morning.”
She could already tell he was pouting, she knew him so well. “Can’t you do it at my place?”
“You mean your mom’s place?” Y/N decided to keep teasing him. Peter was pretty much a loser, not really having any plans in life other than to lounge in his mom’s basement playing video games and eating twinkies for eternity. He thought he was a loser, Y/N’s parents thought he was a loser (which is why they don’t like him much), even Y/N thought he was a loser when they had first met.
Yet here she was, smiling like an idiot while babbling on the telephone with said loser. Said loser who always gives her (stolen) gifts. Said loser who comes over at random points in the day just to say he loves her (superspeed is pretty handy). Said loser who named his Dungeons and Dragons character after her (however, he was such a loser, he didn’t have many people to play it with). Said loser who would scoff and pout whenever she would tease him about being her future house husband (well, what else would he be, if he just plays video games and dotes on her all day?) Her favorite loser.
“Yes,” Peter deadpanned, “My mom’s place. Now may I come over so I can escort you to my mom’s place?”
She pretended to think about it, hearing his soft breathing on the other line as he waited for her to answer, “Fine. No distractions though!”
“Yes, ma’am,”
Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, jumping when she heard a harsh knock on her window. Whipping her head towards the source of the noise, she rolled her eyes with a laugh. Peter, waving at her with his usual happy dorky expression. Placing the phone back down onto its receiver, Y/N rushed towards the window, opening it. “Babe!”
“Missed me?” he asked with a smirk, zipping into her room and right past her, making her roll her eyes again. He picked up her notebook, examining the pages, “Ew ew ew. What the hell are you studying again?”
“Psychology,” Y/N sat on the bed, slipping her sneakers on and tying them.
“Boring,” he sped off in a blur to her desk, grabbing a pencil, and rushing back to her notebook.
She didn’t even notice, focused on her sneakers, but when she raised her head and saw him drawing on her notebook, her facial expression soured, “Pietro Maximoff!” she snatched the notebook back, flicking his forehead.
“Hey!” he gasped dramatically, “Ain’t no way you used my real name.”
“You misbehave to the point I have to like a mom,” Y/n replied dryly, going off to her closet to grab her bag. Brows furrowing, she dug around a bit, “Shit… Dunno where my bag went-”
“Ahem,”
Y/N didn’t even have to turn to know what that meant. But she did, and, not to her surprise, Peter was holding her bag with a smirk on his face.
“Asshole,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew him well. If she attempted to grab the bag, he would just zoom off somewhere else to tease her.
“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked with faux innocence, holding it out to her.
“Fuck that, I know what you’re planning,” Y/N shook her head, raising her brow at him expectantly, “Drop the bag,”
“Um, am I a dog?” He placed a hand to his chest, jaw dropping like the drama king he was. He should have been in theatre when he was in school.
“Do I have to treat you like one?” Y/N threatened boldly, “Come on, pup, drop the bag,”
Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, “You did not just say that,”
“Well, it worked,” Y/N smirked, grabbing her bag and planting a kiss on his cheek, “Good boy,” She began throwing her supplies for her homework into her bag, unaware of the growing dent in his pants.
“Bitch,” he mumbled to himself, too quiet for her to hear.
“Alright, I’m ready to go,” she announced, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He just stood there, eyes glazed over. “Earth to Peter?” she snapped her fingers in his face twice before he blinked, coming back down to society.
“Okayletsgetoutofhere,” he word vomited, grabbing her waist (with one hand on her neck, of course! Gotta prevent that whiplash!), and within seconds, they were in his room (the basement).
“Shit, am I ever gonna get used to that?” Y/N laughed, flopping onto his unmade bed in dizziness. Before she could react, Peter dived in on top of her, making her let out a pained, “Oof!” and a “Peter!”
A childish giggle left him, arms going around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, “Hm?”
“Can’t breathe,”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“I apologize, my dainty little princess,” she deadpanned, arms going around him too. Yes, he was crushing her, but she honestly didn’t care, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She then felt something on her thigh. Felt like something was poking-
Oh.
Oh.
She smirked, but didn’t say anything about what she just realized, casually stroking his hair, “My pretty puppy,”
He gasped, immediately dashing off. Poor thing was flustered, playing one of his (stolen) arcade games, back turned to her.
“What’s wrong?” Y/N immediately got to teasing him, “I thought we were cuddling?”
“Wanna game,” he replied simply, and his ears went red. Cutie pie.
“You wanna game? But I thought you wanted to spend time with me?” she laughed.
“You said you wanted to do your homework,”
“True true…” she opened up her notebook, glancing at his squirming figure, “You dancin’, love?”
“No, I’m not dancing,” was all he said. There were plenty of times he didn’t catch onto her teasing, which was always adorable. This seemed to be one of them.
“Then why are you moving like that?”
“Like what?” Now he was playing dumb. He groaned as he died in the game, restarting it.
She slid off of the bed, walking to him and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she said, “You’re acting funny, darling,” she pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, feeling him tense under her touch.
“N-No, I’m not,”
“Oh, really?” One hand reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear before planting a kiss there, “You’ve been acting funny ever since I called you a good boy,” His breath hitched, making her smirk, “I didn’t know calling you that would have such an effect on you, baby. Maybe it’s because you’re so bratty, you don’t hear that often, huh?”
“Stoooop,” he whined, losing in his game again, “You made me lose,” Peter pouted.
“Hm,” she let her hands drop lower, fiddling with the button of his pants absentmindedly, “You must be slacking, Peter! You should be able to game under any condition, right?”
“But-”
“Nuhuh,” she pressed a finger to his plush lips, “No ‘but’s from you. We gotta practice your concentration skills, my love. They’re lacking,” she unbuttoned his jeans, making him gasp. His hands were gripping the game’s controls tightly, however they were unmoving as she palmed him through his boxers. “Hey,” she roughly squeezed his length, making him squeak cutely. “Did I say you could stop? C’mon, time to practice.”
“S-Sorry, Y/N,” he stuttered out, hitting restart again. She squeezed his cock through his boxers again, earning a whine from him.
“Now what do you call me when I play with you?” Y/N asked tauntingly, running a single finger over his clothed length. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-
“Mommy,” he bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning.
“That’s right, darling, I’m Mommy,” She stepped away, confusing him, until she got down on the floor, crawling right between him and the game. “Mommy’s going to take care of your pretty cock now, okay?” Her hands trailed towards the belt loops of his jeans as she spoke, “You are not allowed to stop playing your game. Each in-game death is two spanks. You’re not allowed to cum till you clear three levels, understood?”
Peter’s cheeks flared up and he nodded excitedly, “Yes, Mommy,”
“Good boy,” she purred, pulling down his pants and letting them pool at his ankles. Fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers, she cooed, already noticing a small wet patch, “So excited, huh?” she pulled down his boxers, letting them join his pants on the floor. Y/N stuck out her index finger, letting it run along his cock like before. Up and down. Up and down. Up and-
“-Mommy,” Peter whined, “Stop teasing me, please,”
“Oh? The bratty boy is using his manners?” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around his thick length and slooooowly stroking him, “Remember the rules and everything will feel amazing, yeah?”
He nodded, sucking in a breath, “Y-Yeah,” Peter tried to focus on his game, he really did, trying his best to get his character past the villainous NPCs. But as soon as Y/N began to stroke faster, he whimpered, his character being slain.
“Oh?” Y/N smirked, pausing her movements and making him whine more, “Already lost? That’s two spanks, darling,”
“Sorry, Mommy…” He mumbled in embarrassment, restarting the game, “I won't do it again- fuck,” She started stroking him again, the delicious feeling going straight to his pretty little head. Any sort of sexual intimacy would immediately make his brain short-circuit, causing him to be complete putty in her hands.
“I know you won’t do it again, Peter, because you’re a good boy, right?” Y/N’s lips curled into a little smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip, continuing to stroke him. “You’re my good boy?”
“Mhm,” he nodded, bottom lip between his teeth as he attempted his game again, his avatar jumping through obstacles and avoiding approaching enemies, “I’m y-your good boy- ughhh,” she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip, teasingly sucking on it. He bit his bottom lip again, hard enough to draw blood.
Peter couldn’t help it, he took a glance down at Y/N, mouth going dry seeing her sucking on his tip, stroking him in a steady rhythm with her own eyes looking dead at his. His eyes widened seeing her take him deeper into her mouth, eyes not leaving his for even a second.
Game over.
He looked up at the screen of his game, realizing his character died again. Fuck.
Y/N pulled her mouth off of his dick with a pop, making him whimper, “Two more spanks, darling. That’s four now.”
This was going to suck. This was going to suck in the best way possible.
“Didn’t you say you were going to be a good boy?” Y/N asked, pouting exageratively, “I remember you saying you were going to be a good boy,”
“I am your good boy!” Peter huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Y/N laughed, pressing a kiss to his thigh, “You’re so cute, baby. Now, c’mon, start the game again. You’ll never get to cum at this rate.”
Poor thing panics, starting the game up again. He began spamming the buttons desperately, wanting to clear those three levels so Y/N would allow him to cum. Overstimulation was hot as hell, but edging was terrible (which is why that was her usual punishment for him).
Her lips were on him again, sucking hard, and poor guy was seeing fucking stars trying to focus on this damn fucking game. He was a good gamer, these levels should be easy to clear, but when Mommy is sucking his cock how is he able to focus on such a thing? He would rather abandon the game and fuck her like a bitch in heat, which is certainly what he felt like at that moment.
It was torture. Spamming buttons desperately, not beating the level, the threat of edging and spanking in the air. He was going crazy.
“Thats ten spanks now, baby,” Y/N said after another failed level, “I thought you were good at games,”
“I-I am!” He exclaimed, “It's hard to fucking focus when you're sucking the soul out of me!” A pout formed on his pretty lips, brows furrowed as he attempted to play the level again.
“Watch your tone, Peter,” Y/N glared at him, making him feel emotional. Whenever he was in a vulnerable place like this, it's embarrassingly easy for him to burst into tears. Especially because during any form of intimacy he was baby or darling or something cute, never Peter. Why would she call him by his name? Was he being bad?
“Sorry, Mama,” he mumbled.
Y/N couldn't help but smile softly, being reminded once again how much she adored him. Her pretty boy. Her favorite loser. Being called her titles by him always made her weak at the knees. “I know, baby,” she was a soft domme at heart, she can't be mad at him. Ever. He was her baby and he deserved the whole world. “Let's try this again, okay?”
She waited for him to nod before taking him into her mouth again. His pretty tip was red and hot in her mouth, dribbling pre-cum on her tongue as she swirled the muscle along.
He finally beat the first level, moving on to the next excitedly. He was getting somewhere now! Soon he'll be allowed to cum and maybe Y/N will let him inside…
Yes, he really wanted to be inside her.
Y/N began taking him deeper into her mouth, and fuck he felt his tip nudge the back of her throat so perfectly he wanted to cum. So bad. But he won't because he's a good boy and he's not going to cum until he's allowed to.
That was the plan, at least.
But his name was Quicksilver for a reason and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. His left hand was gripping the joystick painfully hard, knuckles white as he moved it around in an attempt to get his character across the map to the next level.
He finally made it to the third level, sighing in relief. He was getting somewhere. Almost to the end. She was bobbing her head up and down, one hand gently rubbing his tender balls, bringing him closer and closer to release.
“AhI’msoclosethatfeelssogoodthankyouthankyouI’msoclose” he babbled out, speaking practically a mile a minute. A wide grin appeared on his face once he cleared the third level, “IdiditcanIcomenowpleasecanIcumnow-”
She pulled off of his dick again, making him groan in both desperation and annoyance, “You cleared the level? Good job, sweetie. I guess I can let you cum now…” They both stared at each other, Peter panting and his chest rising with each labored breath, Y/N batting her eyelashes at him meanly, continuing to tease him. He was ready to just start fucking her face and go wild, but he told himself he was going to behave.
So he’s going to behave.
Ugh, but why does she have to make it so hard?
“Can you keep going?” he finally asked.
“Should I, though?”
“You… You promised!” he gasped, eyes widening in panic.
“Hmmm, I don’t remember promising anything,” she replied, trailing her finger along his shaft like she always did when she wanted to fucking tease him. Up and down up and down up and down-
“Please?” Was she really going to make him beg? She knew he hated begging, which is probably why she enjoyed making him do that so much.
All she did was hum, continuing with that aggravating motion of her finger, fucking asshole.
“Please, Mommy?” he grumbled, hands balling into fists at his sides to keep him from going crazy. Think with your head and not your dick, Peter.
Y/N gave him another mean smirk, “That’s my boy…” she went straight back to sucking him off, and he was back to being a fucking mess.
“ThatfeelssogoodyoualwaysdosogoodfuckI’mgoingtocumcanIcumpleasepleaseplease-”
She nodded, not stopping her sucking motion for even a second. However, his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t even notice, continuing to beg to cum till she released his dick from her mouth and said, “You can cum, baby,” with a little laugh before going right back to work.
And within two seconds of being back inside her mouth, he was cumming hard, hands going to her hair for something to keep him grounded. When she pulled away from his cock once again, she swallowed without a second thought, rubbing his thigh soothingly, “You still there, baby?”
“Mhm,” Peter was a known chatterbox, everybody knew this. But every time after cumming, his desire to speak would vanish, the need to just be held and taken care of overpowering all else.
So Y/N stood up, taking his hand, “Let’s lay down, yeah?” She knew Peter could not last long, however, he could bounce back extremely fast. Just some cuddles will do, and he’ll be back to either a) yapping her ear off, or b) being hard as a rock. Or both. Who knows?
She laid down on his (unmade) bed, pulling him down beside her, “You need anything, baby?” He simply shrugged, arms going around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder, “Water?” He shook his head. “Snack?” Fast nod. Of course. “Alright,” she went to sit up, but he immediately tightened his grip on her. “Didn’t you want a snack?” she laughed.
He thought for a moment before hesitantly releasing her from his hold, allowing her to get up and go to his practical tower of Hostess treats, grabbing a box of Twinkies. His favorite. Sitting back down, she opened up the box, unwrapping a cakey treat while he leaned against her again.
“Here you go,” she said softly, letting Peter pluck the dessert from her hand and eat it. It was silent as he ate, her hand going to his hair to gently stroke the silver strands.
“Thank you,” he mumbled after he finished, looking up at her with a cute smile, “You always know just what I need,” he nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Love you,”
“Love you too, baby,” she kissed his head, sighing peacefully, “So… about that punishment…”
#evan peters#peter maximoff#xmen#xmen movies#quicksilver#peter maximoff x reader#sub peter#sub peter maximoff#sub quicksilver#quicksilver x rader#peter maximoff smut#smut#quicksilver smut#tate langdon x reader#kit walker x reader#kyle spencer x reader#jimmy darling x reader#james patrick march x reader#kai anderson x reader#subby boys#subby men#mommy k!nk
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You what? | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤
Summary: Viktor knows Jayce sometimes does things without thinking, but this? This goes beyond his own limits.
Warnings: Mentions of trauma - Kid!Reader - Viktor and Jayce are a couple - OFF CANON EVENTS - Human traffic - GN Reader - PLATONIC - grammar mistakes -
When Viktor enters on monday morning into the lab with his coffee in hand he expects nothing but silence, after all he is here before Jayce most mornings.
But he stops in his tracks when he hears Jayce's voice, maybe sounding less...well less like him. He sounds like he is talking to a small animal. It reminds him on how he uses to talk to Rio when he was a kid.
Pushing memories aside Viktor retakes his way and goes deeper into the lab, where their experiments are.
And oh, if his illness did not kill him as most doctors had said then this would do it.
Jayce, using one of his experiments showing it to a kid who seems to be as suprised as any kid would be and perphas gives the most honest reactions to his inventions.
But wait, go back.
Jayce and a kid.
His cane hits the floor in suprise and he ends being watched by two pairs of eyes.
Jayce looks like he was discovered breaking some important rule, to which Viktor is centrain that bringing a kid into the lab counts as but he wont say it. And another pair that looks at him with curiosity.
There is silence, no one really knows what to say or how to act. But Jayce ends reacting, leaving the experiment and going to help Viktor with his cane who is feeling a headache coming.
"Hey Vik! long time no see, how's your house?"
Honestly? Viktor wants nothing more than to go back in time and insist that he is fine and does not need rest. Maybe like that he would have stayed with Jayce and prevent...this.
But time travel is something that is still on the making, so back to the main point.
Viktor just gives out the most tired look, then turns to a near chair, sits and taking his coffee simple says "Explain"
Becuase if there is something he has come to learn while dating and loving Jayce is that nothing should suprise him (and yet Jayce still manages to do it) and also, is better to ask upfront than to wait for him to talk up. Viktor can still remember that one time he found a big (illegal no less) plant at his home and Jayce ignored it for two hours till he asked.
"Well you see, its really funny actually..."
"Jayce...."
"Alright..., so I took a walk around campus and saw some...suspicious individuals and well lets say I was not very discrete"
Viktor can just imagine the scene
"And they saw me and ran but I chased after them"
Stupid move Viktor thinks
"And then they trow me this kid at me, i mean what could I have done? So i took them home, gave them a warm meal and a bath" Jayce ends sounding a bit too proud of himself.
"Jayce you...you stole a kid?" Viktor asks because he is confused "And did not report the incident?"
"Uh well i was going too but then (Y/N) started to wonder around so i kind of forgot..."
"(Y/N?" Viktor asks and sees you peeking out from behind the big desk.
"Yes! Thats their name, im not sure about much more, only that they like chocolate and blue stuff"
Viktor ends in silence for various minutes. You must be an orphan he concludes, an orphan from the undercity, who had no other choice but to follow a gang in order to survive. He tries to calculate your age but its hard, you have been not eating well, thats clear, and he can already see some bruises from the misstreatment of the undercity.
Being raised by parents or family its a luxury after all.
"Jayce you cant just take a kid in" Viktor says and his heart almost breaks as he sees you run towards Jayce hugging his legs.
Noted, you may not talk but you understand, its clear you are more intelligent than what you leave to be at first.
Street smart maybe?
"But Viktor! I cant just leave them" Jayce responds picking you up. "If they return to the undercity i dont think they will make it"
Jayce sees how you push your head against his chest and smiles softly at you.
"And we cant leaven them at an orphan home! I have read of these places, they suck"
Viktor must agree, its not like he comes from one but knows well that lots of kids ends being sold off...
"Alright and whats your plan?" Viktor asks "Do you even know what it means to raise a kid, or how? What about me? Were you going to consulte me?"
He can see the pain in Jayce eyes at his last sentence. "Of course I was! I was just thinking of a...well a good moment"
"Because bringing them to the lab was the perfect idea"
"I could not leave them at home! I mean i tried but- they would not let go of my leg, i think they have some type of trauma..."
Viktor takes another deep breath, Jayce kidness and heart knows no limits.
"Besides you did say you wanted to help the peopel from the undercity"
"This is different, we are talking about raising! adopting a kid!"
"So you are considering?" Jayce asks in the most hopeful tone ever.
Viktor just lets out another breath.
"Well, its not like they can go back and yes, orphan homes sucks" Viktor responds. "But we need to do this right. And i mean legally"
Jayce nods and all of him lights up like he has discover a new thing. He goes to Viktor carefully managing (Y/N) by his hands and leans down to peak Viktor's lips.
"Yes!! Totally! I will talk to Mel about it, im sure she can move some contacts for this" Jayce says and Viktor can see his brain making more and more plans.
"They also need clothes, and we should think of getting them into school" Viktor adds standing up with his cane and going closer. He can see (Y/N) eyes and cant denied how it makes his heart melts.
"Dad?" Its what you say looking at Viktor, then you look at Jayce "Mom?"
Jayce smiles and nods while Viktor is left without words. "Yes! We are your mom and dad now" he says pointing at him then at Viktor.
"Family?"
Jayce nods again
"...Chocolate?" You asks once more
"Alright thats all, if they eat too much sugar this place will be a disaster, you do remember we have dangerous things in here, right?"
Jayce nods at Viktor then whispers to you "We will get chocolate once we end work"
Viktor snorts then moves to his desk to finally start working and also to let his mind register everything. He hears the doors closing imagining Jayce went with you to talk to Mel.
But no, he feels a pull at his trousers and looks down at you who looks up at him extending your arms
"Dad! Up!"
Viktor does as told pulling you on his lap and passing you some papper and a pen. Both fall in a comfortable silence.
And Viktor thinks, this is something he can totally get used to.
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Silent But Friendly
A what-if story about what would happen if Oliver met borrower James wayyyy before they actually did
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They are in silence; though not the uncomfortable stuffy kind, rather a very peaceful quietness that surrounded the dinner table. His uncle worked late most weekends, and so that left Oliver and his aunt to eat alone on that Saturday afternoon.
It was macaroni and cheese tonight— one of Oliver's favourites. He even helped in the kitchen to chop the tomatoes and grate the cheese; aunt Charlie was 7 months pregnant after all and he wanted to do his best to help out.
As he finished his portion he placed his knife and fork together on the table before making eye contact with his aunt. She was eating slowly, mostly picking at the food. Her appetite seemed all over the place during the pregnancy; sometimes Oliver saw her eating lots of snacks, and other times he saw her throwing up from the tiniest bite.
He could see in her face that she was full, though she looked determined to finish the remaining bites. Catching his eye contact, she looked up and smiled tiredly. It was a warm and kind smile; like drinking a hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in the winter. Oliver soaked in that warmth whenever it was available, and right now was no different.
“Thanks for your help in the kitchen, love. It tastes brilliant.” She praised, before sighing as she finally set her fork down. She offered a sheepish grin in his direction. “I don't think I can fit any more... D’ja think you could go put the plates in the kitchen, poppet?”
A simple task really. Oliver didn't mind doing any of his chores or extra for his aunt and uncle— not after they had taken him in and been so kind to him. And sure, he missed his parents sometimes, but it felt much more gratifying to complete a task and receive praise rather than constantly fearing punishment as he had before.
Even if he looked at his mum wrong…he could just remember the look on her eyes. It was cold and distant; like being stranded out in a snowstorm, alone and lost. Resentful.
No…he much preferred living with his aunt and uncle, no matter how many times he woke up clutching his pillow and missing the way things used to be.
Oliver nodded silently, standing up and moving all the cutlery onto her plate before stacking her plate onto his own and lifting them both. He brought them closer to his centre so they'd be easier to carry and began walking towards the kitchen only to pause as his aunt spoke up again.
“Oh— and love? Just while you're up, d’ja think you could grab me a drink of water too?”
He turned back towards her, scanning her expression for a moment and seeing that once again there was nothing but geniality in her gaze. He offered a small smile in return and nodded again. She beamed, leaning on her hand as she looked up at him.
“You are a little sweetheart, you know that?” She praised once more. Oliver averted his eyes, though internally he was very pleased by the praise. He once again only nodded in return before entering the kitchen to go put the plates by the sink.
Next, he grabbed a glass from out of the cabinet and opened the tap, first testing it with his finger to make sure it was cold before holding the glass underneath. Once it was sufficiently full he turned the tap off and returned to the table, setting the glass down in front of his aunt.
She watched him enter with a fond gaze.
“Thanks, love.”
Picking up the glass she raised it to her lips and took a few sips before coughing. Oliver's expression turned to one of worry, his lips mouthing the question he wanted to ask although no sound came out. His hands moved too, signing alongside him.
‘Are you okay?’
She saw the gesture and waved a hand dismissively, nodding a few times, though she looked a bit pale still.
“I'm fine… I'm just gonna head to the bathroom, you stay down here, okay?” She stood up slowly, and Oliver could tell just by the slight winced in her expression that she was having a bout of nausea. He shuffled closer to help her up but she gently waved off his help.
“I'm okay, I promise. Why don't you get your comfies on and I'll come in to you later to read the next chapter of Magic Tree House, hm?”
Although more hesitantly than before, Oliver nodded slowly and watched as his aunt walked up the stairs. Once she had disappeared from view he glanced back towards the kitchen.
I don't think she'll be well enough to wash up… I can do it. I'll just leave things to dry since I can't reach the cupboards.
With that thought in mind he re-entered the kitchen and approached the sink, putting some dish liquid in the washing up bowl and starting to fill it up with warm water only to jolt when a sound caught his attention.
It was faint, he hardly heard it thanks to the sound of water on water, but he still heard it. A cry. Oliver turned the tap back off, glancing around and listening for it again.
Nothing.
As he looked around for any sign of what could have made the noise— or god knows it would bother him for the entire evening— he then noticed that the cylindrical tub of oats that sat beside the other cereal was…open. The lid wasn't off all the way, laying balanced and slightly ajar.
Oliver watched it silently for a few moments, wondering how exactly it had ended up that way. He had used the oats last when he ate porridge earlier in the week, so he knew that he had closed it once he was done using it. He even remembered looking at it this morning and never noticed anything off about the lid.
Unable to come up with a plausible theory, he sought to find answers as he approached the countertop the tub of oats was on, tilting his head ever so slightly.
Is it…a mouse..? Unafraid and full of curiosity his hands gripped the base of the tub and he tilted it towards himself to peer in through the opening, the lid clattering onto the counter as he did so. He expected just…oats. Maybe a mouse or a rat.
What he didn't expect was a pair of brown eyes staring up at him through a mop of messy long black hair. There, sprawled out and covered in oat dust, was a tiny boy.
Oliver stared silently— even if he wanted to speak he was at a loss for words, simply gazing down at the boy through his glasses, his mind blanching. He tilted the tub down more just so he could get a better look, listening to the little yelp that escaped the boy as more oats rolled over him.
The walls are much too high…he must have fallen in. He could be hurt.
With that in mind, Oliver smiled reassuringly, holding one of his hands out placatingly as a gesture of goodwill before using that same hand to reach into the tub, his vision now obscured as he blindly grabbed around for the tiny boy. He had held mice before— he imagined it was the same.
His fingers closed around a squirming form and he couldn't help but wince as they did— it was a weird feeling, to hold something so small that was undoubtedly alive. Once he was sure he was holding the boy securely he lifted his hand out of the tub and let it sit upright again as he brought the squirming rescuee to his eye level.
He realised that he had carried some oats with him and saw that the raven haired boy was still struggling away, kicking and fighting and losing energy by the second. Oliver noticed that one of his legs wasn't kicking very well, but it wasn't bleeding. He opened his mouth to ask, only for the words to catch in his throat again.
He knew he could speak, but he didn't like it. Whenever he did speak it was forced and he hated the way his voice made his head and ears feel. His aunt and uncle had promised him that he didn't need to force himself to speak and were teaching him British Sign Language…but he highly doubted this random boy knew it.
None of the kids at school did. None of the teachers. They all got frustrated with him and now Oliver made sure to keep to himself, as much as he wanted to raise his hand more.
Oliver lowered his hand slightly, offering another reassuring smile that was half a grimace at the same time. He waved slowly with his free hand, trying to get the boy to stop panicking so he could attempt communication.
As his other hand raised he caught how the tiny boy's gaze immediately focused on it, going stiff and staring up at him like he was a monster. Oliver didn't let that phase him; so long as he was able to communicate his intentions, he was sure they would calm down.
He kept a gentle smile on his face, moving slowly once he noticed how easily startled they were by his movements. He mouthed his question alongside his gestures, pointing at their leg and then tilting his head as he mouthed ‘is your leg hurt'?
They continued to stare owlishly up at him, trembling. Oliver's smile faltered slightly, concern in his eyes as he repeated the movements and mouthed his question again more emphatically.
“W-why aren't you talking..?”
The tiny boy's voice definitely held fear, but it was also slightly accusatory. Oliver was used to that second part— where people thought he was weird or creepy for not speaking. He was so used to it by now that it wasn't really upsetting, though it was hard to explain without words.
Oliver shrugged and mouthed ‘I don't like talking’. The boy squinted up at him, seemingly trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate.
“You…don't like talking? O-okay…” Oliver was surprised they didn't laugh or call him weird or just ignore him as many others did. That made him smile again as he repeated his previous gestures, still trying to ask about their leg.
“O-oh…my leg..? It's fine..! So…so you can just put me down and I'll go home, yeah?” Oliver heard the hint of uncertainty in their voice and he couldn't help but frown at the thought that they didn't think he would do that in the first place. He quickly realised that his frown could be taken the wrong way though and opted for a more neutral expression.
He lowered his hand again, this time so that it was flat against the counter, nodding his head in one direction as if he was shooing the boy off of his hand with his head alone. ‘Go on. I won't keep you’. He offered another smile for good measure.
The boy didn't move for a few moments, looking around at his fingers warily as if they would snap closed on him like a bear trap. Oliver simply held still, patiently waiting, despite his many questions.
Slowly they began to scoot towards the edge of his palm, and Oliver tried his best not to react to the ticklish sensation. He watched as they fully climbed off his hand and stood up before meeting his gaze again with trepidation.
“You…you're actually letting me go..?”
Oliver nodded, smiling again as he slowly moved his hand away and turned it back over so the palm was facing downwards. He placed his free hand over his heart to indicate sincerity.
They seemed to hesitate still, but took a cautious step back. As they put weight onto one of their ankles though they let out a hiss of pain, losing their balance as they suddenly pulled their weight off of that leg. Instinctively, Oliver's hand reached towards them, cupping as he caught them, looking down at them with concern.
‘You are hurt…’ He mouthed, although it was unreadable due to the way he was practically mumbling. Regardless, the boy wasn't looking at his mouth, instead they had wide eyes and were swivelling their head around to focus on Oliver's hand. He frowned worriedly, not wanting to scare them more than they clearly already were, but also not wanting to ignore someone who was injured.
He raised his other hand from the counter again and held out his palm, splaying his fingers out in a placating gesture and biting his lip when the boy flinched away from his hand’s shadow. He repeated the gesture again, trying to show that he meant no harm. All the while, his left hand remained cupped behind them, although it wasn't caging them in.
It took about five or six times of Oliver calmly repeating the same motion for the boy to calm down and notice that his fingers weren't closing in, and his right hand wasn't moving any closer. They looked up at Oliver, looking so small and vulnerable from this vantage point… I just want to help.
‘Your leg…’ He slowly pointed to the tiny leg again, then pointed towards himself, his hand instinctively flattening to sign help, only to remember his leading hand was currently cupped behind the boy. He rested his hand on the counter again instead.
‘I can help you.’ He mouthed. When the boy didn't seem to read his lips, Oliver simply repeated the most important word. ‘Help. I can help.’
There was a hint of understanding in the boy's gaze, but he was still clearly very frightened. Oliver tried to imagine seeing the world from his perspective, but it was hard to imagine…regardless, he thought he would be more curious when coming face to face with a giant unless he had reason to believe they meant him harm.
His green gaze danced around the counter in search of something else he could offer as a sign of good will. His gaze landed on the macaroni and cheese his aunt had left— and although it wasn't super hot anymore he could warm it up. Most of it was untouched after all, and he found the boy in the oats, so he was probably looking for food or something similar.
‘Wait.’ He held his hand out again, slowly moving his hand from behind the boy so that he was no longer supporting his weight. He then picked up his aunt's plate and walked to the microwave, covering it with a lid and putting it in for thirty seconds. He watched the timer go down, intending to stop it just before it would start beeping.
At one second he opened it, turning off the timer and pulling out the plate before carrying it back over to where he had left the boy. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they were still there, watching him with wariness…but also a hint of curiosity as Oliver set the plate down nearby.
Sliding it in the boy's direction he smiled, gesturing towards the plate.
“For…for me?” They asked, shocked by the offering of food. Oliver nodded. He watched as they limped closer to the plate and very nearly toppled over whilst climbing onto it. They crawled closer then sniffed at the food, before finally taking a piece of the warm macaroni into their hands.
Oliver winced at the mess but made no moves to stop the tiny boy, simply leaning on his hand as he watched the display.
They ate ravenously, making it clear how hungry they were as they only paused to announce how good it tasted; expressing shock over the fact that the food was warm. Eventually the boy grew full and he looked up at Oliver again, cheese covering his hands and face. Oliver couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle, hushed and soft but no less amused.
The boy frowned up at him, little eyebrows contorted in frustration.
“H-hey! Nothing funny to see here..!” He protested. Oliver covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the laughter, cutting it off with a small cough as he was worried he might actually upset the tiny boy. That would be bad…he was trying to help him after all.
They continued to stare up at him, looking him up and down with a scrutinising chocolate brown gaze, seemingly debating something internally. Oliver was silent as usual, removing his hand that was covering his mouth and making his expression neutral again— though he couldn't hide the curious spark in his eyes.
“My name is James…” The boy murmured, but Oliver heard it.
He perked up, his hands already moving to spell his own name, mouthing ‘Oliver’ alongside it. His aunt and uncle just used the sign of an acorn as a nickname for him, but he didn't really introduce himself like that.
“Oliver…yeah I know.” James responded as if it was obvious, but Oliver tilted his head questioningly nonetheless.
‘You did?’
James hadn't read his lips but seemed to understand that he had let something slip he shouldn't have as he began to backtrack immediately, fear visible in his expression.
“I-I mean…it's not— I-I'm sorry…” He was back to trembling, shoulders hunched and posture stiff. Oliver's expression saddened and he leaned down slightly so he was more at eye level, offering a small reassuring smile and shaking his head lightly, hands gesturing alongside his lips moving.
‘It’s okay. It's okay. I'm not angry.’ He shook his head again to emphasise that fact. ‘You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'll ask something else… like…’ He thought for a few moments before levelling with James again. ‘How old are you?’
There were a few beats of silence as the tiny boy continued to stay silent, but Oliver remained patient. Eventually he spoke up, albeit shakily.
“I-I'm um…I'm thirteen.” He answered, averting eye contact every now and then. Oliver knew that he was prone to staring or giving way too much eye contact so he looked away again for a moment, only looking back when he responded back.
‘I’m ten.’ He held up his hands, palms facing himself and fingers close together with his thumbs sticking out, before turning them around and splaying his fingers out. People usually understood the second gesture much more when Oliver tried to sign numbers.
“Ten?” The tiny boy clarified, and he nodded in turn. That seemed to make James perk up a bit himself, as if age was a matter of pride. “So…I-I'm older than you? You're just…so big. It’s weird…”
It's weird. Not I'm weird.
Oliver smiled.
‘I am big.’ He agreed, his hands continuing to sign as much as he knew his constant hand movements probably only confused James. Wanting to focus on more important matters again, Oliver pointed towards his leg. ‘Can I help fix your leg? It's hurt.’
“Oh, right… u-um… nothing is broken, I think I just landed weird. The pain is starting to go away a bit… But I can't stay out here— my dad’ll kill me if he catches me talking to you..!” He exclaimed, glancing around as if his dad might pop up from anywhere. Oliver couldn't help but glance around too, worry etching across his features.
‘Your dad would really do that? Is he mean to you?’ He signed quickly, his mind instantly flashing back to the many threats he had heard when he was younger from his own parents. Mostly his mother, but his father never stopped her.
James didn't seem able to read his lips that time thanks to how sporadic it was, but he could tell that Oliver was worried.
“N-not actually! I just…I'm exaggerating. He.. he will be worried about me, is all. He and my mum…” He corrected, confusion in his gaze as he looked up at him. Oliver let out a small sigh of relief and relaxed, calming down little by little.
An exaggeration. Right.
He nodded to show he understood, although he couldn't help the jittery feelings that remained buzzing under the surface, his hands withdrawing closer to his chest as he looked down at the tiny boy. ‘Okay… Do you want to clean yourself before you go, then?’
He reached over the counter and picked up a napkin before offering it forwards for James to use. The boy's face lit up in realisation and he glanced down at his cheese covered hands sheepishly before nodding and reaching out to take a corner.
“Thanks…” He spoke out as he wiped off his hands. He let go of the napkin and gave Oliver a confused look when he didn't withdraw. Letting out an amused exhale from his nose Oliver pointed at James then gestured to his face.
‘Your face is messy too.’
The boy's face went red with embarrassment and he took a clean part of the napkin to wipe the cheese from his face too. Once finished he let go again and held out his hands as if to say ta da, then shakily pushed himself to a stand.
At first it seemed like he might fall again, and Oliver's fingers twitched in anticipation…but it seemed the boy had been telling the truth that the injury was nothing serious and the pain was fading, as he was able to put more weight on it than before. Satisfied, he put the napkin in the bin before looking down at James again.
‘It was nice to meet you, James.’ He smiled, waving down at them. He waved back up at him, climbing off of the plate and walking backwards towards the…wall..? Oliver watched with confusion and interest, then awe as the tiny boy opened a hidden doorway into the wall. His eyes sparkled with wonder, although he only watched.
“I-it was nice to meet you too, surprisingly. Thanks again for not um..for not killing me.” The secret door then closed and left Oliver alone in the kitchen once more. He tilted his head, brows furrowing.
What an odd thing to say… Oh well. I hope his parents don't get angry at him because of me.
With that in mind, he stood up straight again and turned the tap back on to resume his washing up, playing the interaction in his head over and over again.
I hope we can be friends.
#g/t community#ocs#g/t artist#g/t writer#g/t#giant/tiny#borrowers#g/t fluff#g/t writing#g/t angst#giant/tiny fluff#gentle giant#giant/tiny writing
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Assigning WHB demons plants/flowers based off the vibes: Abyssos
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
A/N: I think I need to start attending some botany classes again bc from the way these post are turning into me rambling about plants i can tell I miss it :D
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Nepenthes rajah
I don't think this plant has a common name, but if it did it would be smth like Rat/Mouse eating pitcher plant
Bc that's exactly what the plant does
It's just big enough for the small rodent to climb into and never see the light of day again
This also probably explains why I picked it for Beel
I mean, he literally eats angels whole
(I find pitcher plants really cool bc they're literally just a pitchers filled with digestive fluid, but they're not necessary carnivorous - some life off of animal droppings or insects)
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Venus flytrap - Dionaea muscipula
At first i was gonna include maybe some other pitcher plant or completely different plant...
But then again, Bael is literally catching the King of flies on daily basis
Idk why, but looking at pics of the open leaves is really calming to me
Having them is kinda cool bc sometimes you just walk past and see one of their leaves closed bc it caught a fly and you'll feel kinda proud of your little baby for catching something
From my experience they don't close when you give them dead one, though
They might also be a bit harder to keep alive...
Mine made it few months, but then bloomed and died shortly after I cut the flower off (similar thing also happened to my friend who specialises in succulents and carnivorous plants so I don't think I did anything wrong)
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Poison Ivy - Toxicodendron
At first I was thinking I'll give Stolas something bird-named, but I really wantd somethinig that looks harmless, and the moment you mess with, you're in for a lot of pain
And this plant baby delivers
I've never had the misfortune of meeting it, but I haver heard the stories
For those who don't know: Contanct wiht the plant gives you a nasty rash, sometimes with some blisters
Interestingly, looking it up on wikipedia, there's even what would happen if you smoked or eaten it....
As if you'd wanna do that after getting a rash just touching that thing
(You skin is pretty much reacting to the oil on the leaves, so after you come to contact make sure to wash it off or you'll spread it on other things too)
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Hypoestes
I can only talk about this moody beauty from experience since there isn't much info online
From what I've found there's about 150 scpecies in this family
Doesn't require much sunlight, but needs water
And oh boy, the amount of water...
The reason why I picked this plant for Amon is how easy it is for the leaves to start drooping
Just like him being constantly tired
But oh boy, the drooping... One minute she looks good and then two minutes later she's on the verge of death
It's not good to have planters just sitting in water bc of the risk of mold, but this one might just need it
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Common Ivy - Hedera Helix
Originally I wanted to go again with a plant based off his animal form, but then while writing for Amon, I saw normal Ivy
The ultimate Dark Academia plant that looks so good growing around anything
It's perfect for a demon they sometimes call Class President
I really love Common Ivy bc of how much you can use her for
Amazing use for Ivy is putting her into floral arrangements and the amazing thing is that it'll mostly keep its color as long as it's not left out in the rain or your glue gun set on too high temperature
Fun fact: The leaves of the plant are different on normal branches from the branches with a flower
#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb beelzebub#whb bael#whb stolas#whb naberius#whb amon#I just need to make it through a year or so of accounting studies and then I can apply to study botany at a college ^^
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Heather ✰ MS [Finale]
───~𓆩♡𓆪~───
bsf!matt! A change of heart? Or the truth?
wc. 1.1k
note. English is not my first language! Part 1 2 Bonus
The rest of the day went on as planned, but the rejection hung heavily in your heart. The storming emotions swirling inside you matching the thunderstorm outside.
Your mind was elsewhere as you sat around the table with the triplets, eating the pizza they ordered and chatting away. You tried to keep your emotions in check, and just as you took a bite from your already half-eaten pizza, Chris and Nick finally noticed the slight redness in your eyes.
"What happened to your eyes? Did you cry or something?" You and Matt both tensed up at his words, sneaking a subtle glance before looking back at Chris. "You look high," Nick’s comment made you laugh slightly, "yeah, maybe I am," you tried to joke.
"You know you can talk to us right?" Chris added, taking another bite out of his pizza. You heart warmed at his words and you smiled, nodding, "yeah, I know, but it’s nothing big, I might have bottled things up a bit too much." You shrugged, downplaying it all.
Nick sighed, knowing exactly what had happened. After all, you had told him all about your crush on his brother. It wasn’t intentional, it just slipped out one day and you simply got obligated to tell him more—which you didn’t mind.
He gave you a knowing look and you responded back with a silent gesture, shaking your head as a sign that you got rejected. Nick gasped audibly, "really?" he mouthed silently to you, and you nodded, "really."
Matt and Chris looked at you both with raised eyebrows, "uhh, mind telling us what the fuck you’re silently mouthing to each other?" Chris chuckled in confusion while Matt looked almost... conflicted? As if he understood the silent conversation between you and Nick.
You and Nick downplayed your silent conversation as just a slight gossip, and Chris seemed to buy, but Matt looked thoughtful even though he didn’t say anything about it.
You almost screamed out loud when you opened your eyes after washing your face and saw Matt standing behind you – looking at you in the mirror – with his arms folded. You turned around as you wiped your face with a towel you borrowed.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack, why’re you just standing there?" You asked confused, putting the towel aside to put on some moisturiser, but got pulled towards him when you turned around to look in the mirror.
Your breath hitched and you tensed, not knowing what the fuck just happened. That didn’t go unnoticed by Matt, and you could’ve sworn he smirked before schooling his expression. "Matt, what are you doing?" You turned around fully to face him again, your eyes wide with confusion and surprise.
"Hm?" humming as he pulled you closer by your forearm, rendering you speechless at his proximity, "you know... did you really think I was telling the truth?" You looked at him, just stared at him for a good minute or so before your brain followed along with his words.
"Huh?" you asked dumbly, eliciting a low chuckle from him, "huh indeed, even I’m surprised by what I’m about to say." His eyes searched yours, suddenly looking awfully nervous. "Uh... What–" "I like you." You froze, did you hear him correctly or were you just daydreaming like usual?
"Excuse me?" He seemed a bit taken aback by your disbelieving tone, misinterpreting it as rejection and started to talk quietly and rather quickly, "well, I uh... like you, you know... not as a friend, I mean I do like you as a friend and—and also, when I said I liked you like a sister, that was all just a bunch of bullshit, I—you—we," he paused, his expression slightly pained as he tried to explain it but was at loss for words.
You felt a headache coming, your brain short-circuiting as it tried to grasp and comprehend what you just heard. Rubbing your temple as you closed your eyes briefly before opening them again. With furrowed eyebrows you spoke, "what did you just say?" Matt cleared his throat, "you heard me," and you almost groaned out loud.
Why does he always say that annoying ass sentence all the goddamn time?
"Well, because of a certain someone talking like they’re trynna compete with eminem in a hushed tone, I don’t think I did." He raised an eyebrow at your words, "whatever, I like you." he bluntly said as he looked straight into your eyes, "hell, I might be head over heels for you already."
He waited for your answer, only to get another "huh?". His eyebrows furrowed at your answer, or rather the lack thereof, "I like you—" you cut him off, finally speaking, "You were just saying how much you missed your ex a few hours ago, how do you expect me to trust you?"
He winced at your words, knowing the situation he just got himself into as he tried to backpedal. "I know how it sounds like, I was just lonely is all, I don’t love her anymore, my feelings for her died when we broke up and I— seeing you cry, possibly because of my stupid words about my ex, just broke my heart."
He continued in a more quiet voice, "and I understood and realised just then, how much I actually like you. More than a friend, more than I thought. I love you— I really do. I don’t know how I can prove it right now, but I am sincere."
You were conflicted, one part of you wanted to trust his words, but the other part felt the need to press further and get more answers. The latter won.
"Prove it then, Matt," crossing your arms before continuing, "prove to me that you’re being serious because I need solid proof—" he suddenly pulled your hand to his chest, letting you feel his rapid heartbeat under your palm.
"Do you feel this, pretty? Do you feel what you do to me? You make my heart race just because you’re standing close to me." Your own pulse quickened, a shaky sigh falling from between his lips as you didn’t pull away your hand, instead pushed it slightly more against his chest.
You looked at him, searching his face for any reason not to trust him, but even if you found any you wouldn’t question him further. You knew you were far too gone to care.
You let his words soothe you, and let yourself trust his words, despite that small part of your brain screaming for you to be suspicious, but it quickly dissipated when he enveloped you into a warm embrace—full of promises.
After all, he’s telling the truth, right?
𓆩♡𓆪
wc. 1,114
isa's notes. This is the "happy ending" version! If you want an angst ending then you can consider part 2 to be the true ending<3
Masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 Taglist
Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @ihatehighschool9thgrade @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @ihrtbbygirl @billiesbabya @splashhsworld @h3arts4nat @thebigbadwolfahoooo @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouse @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @urfavallyyy @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim
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© sweetshuga
#matt sturniolo#fanfiction#matt x reader#matt x you#matt sturniolo oneshot#oneshot#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo oneshot#matthew sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#fanfic#sturniolo triplets#smut#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sweetshugams#light angst#matt sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo angst#fluff#matt sturniolo fluff#matthew sturniolo fluff#𓆩♡𓆪sweetshuga
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Boys in Bars
A/N: Hi Babes! :D So uhh….me again with the never say never....this one's a love I've had for...20 odd years and comes clad in yellow spandex....
Another one that was meant to live in the WIP and has taken on a life of its own...
I didn't tell @ken-dom this one was being shared, so she's probably gonna lose it....Sorry xD love you big much.
She’s still been mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist much like everything I've written over the last year and a half.
As always, this NSFW 18+ (Not yet but like...it's getting there ok?)
I wasn't gonna share it today, but with the digital DP&W release I felt I should and @coggedcorset aggressively encouraged as they do <3
Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet.
Enjoy my loves! <3
You sighed glancing down the length of the bar; Logan sat there, like he did every other night of the week. Silent and unmoving, save for occasionally reaching for the half empty bottle sat on the bar top.
Usually he minded his own business, and no one else paid him any mind…usually…the bar wasn’t particularly busy tonight, and you were bored.
You made your way down the bar on the opposite side, stopping where he sat. He glanced up, his brown eyes meeting yours for a brief second before they dropped again to examine a particularly interesting knick in the polished wood of the bar.
“You should eat something”
“No” he spoke into the bartop and you rolled your eyes
“Mmm good, just going to destroy your liver twice as fast tonight, got it”
You reached for the near empty bottle and his hand snapped out with lightning speed, the hint of his metal claws poking out between his knuckles; his fingers warm against the back of your hand…too warm thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol running through his system.
“Leave it” he nearly growled.
“What are you going to do, cut off my fingers?” you rolled your eyes pulling the bottle out of his reach. “You’re done”
He snorted with a laugh “Am I?” claws retracting back under his skin
You ignored him, dropping the bottle back in the well “The spare bed is still made up upstairs if you’re interested”
“Are you giving me an option?” he quipped as you walked around the other end of the bar, going to lock the door and flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’
“Sure,” you smiled sweetly and he cocked an eyebrow “The couch is a little small, but I guess curled up on the floor is an option too”
He barked a laugh, louder than necessary, but given how much he had had to drink you were shocked he was coherent at all.
You flipped off the lights and the bar was cloaked in darkness, moonlight streaming in through the door and windows, giving you enough light to navigate back to where Logan still sat.
He sat up straighter as you came to stand over his shoulder, but made no move to stand. You wrapped an arm around his torso, draping a muscled arm around your shoulders as you heaved him to his feet; this hadn’t been the first time and sadly you didn’t think it would be the last either. The two of you had gotten into a bit of a routine since you had started working here regularly. He leaned heavily against your comparatively tiny frame as you grabbed his worn brown leather jacket with your free hand, draping it over your arm as you lead him to the narrow staircase, minding his feet, knowing full well that one stumble in his clunky work boots would send you both crashing to the bar floor and he was significantly harder to pick up from there.
“I swear you only make me do this on night’s I wear heels” you muttered, using the wall to support yourself in the almost too narrow stairwell as you pulled him up with you.
“I can walk” he slurred
Despite his declaration, his weight leaned heavier against you and as if to prove your point, he misjudged the next step, toe catching on the lip of the step, sending him careening forward, forcing you to catch yourself against the wall, fingernails digging into the flesh of his hip to keep him from smashing his perfectly straight teeth on the stairs.
He grunted, catching himself on the wall on the other side without much success and you sighed as he righted himself.
“You were saying?”
“Shut up” he muttered as you reached the landing, wrenching the heavy wood door open that led to your tiny apartment.
“You should really fix that” he mumbled as you dragged him into the dark room before flipping on the light and kicking the door closed with your foot
“I’ll get right on it” you sighed, finally letting go of the grip you’d had around his waist, causing him to stumble slightly as you reached to pull your heels off. “You know where your bed is” you yawned, draping his jacket over the nearest chair.
“My bed?” he repeated to the back of your head as you made your way to the bathroom.
You turned only enough to look over your shoulder at him standing on surprisingly steady feet, the first three or four buttons of his plaid shirt undone and you had to force yourself to meet his eye.
He’s drunk the little voice in the back of your mind whispered It would be unethical
You snorted at your own inner monologue before answering him “Well, no one else spends as many nights here”
This seemed to be answer enough for him as he sat with a heavy thump on the couch, bending to untie his boots before kicking them off, leaving them haphazardly strewn on the living room floor.
You made your way down to the bathroom, closing the door most of the way behind you as you ran the hot water to wash your face and change.
When you reemerged, you found Logan sitting on the edge of the spare bed, leaned against the headboard, snoring softly.
You giggled softly and seriously considered leaving him there, but thought better of it.
“Logan,” you whispered, touching his arm gently, careful to keep clear of his hands. Nearly being impaled once when you startled him awake the first time he had spent the night was enough.
He hadn’t even stirred at your touch.
You sighed “Any other night and you’d almost take my head off” you muttered
You grunted bending to lift his legs up on the bed and he mumbled something in his sleep as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. Pulling the comforter up around his shoulders you turned off the small lamp next to the bed, nearly jumping out of your skin hearing a slurred “Thanks” from where he laid.
“Just don’t puke on my bed”
You heard him scoff with a laugh as you made your way to your own bed, drifting off to sleep almost as quickly as he had.
***
You turned over in your sleep with a heavy sigh through your nose; a heaviness pressing on your mid-section. You blinked sleep from your eyes as you took a deep breath as you turned over, you jumped slightly when your nose nearly brushed against Logan’s as he slept.
Your shoulders sagged as you sighed a second time, his arm still heavy across your middle as you studied his face in the dark. His face was weathered…not that you blamed him, you knew he’d been through the ringer before he ever graced a stool at the bar. Some he talked about, most he didn’t…you assumed. He was handsome still though, ruggedly so. You watched as his forehead creased with worry; he was dreaming.
He dreamt a lot, or more accurately had nightmares a lot. You wondered if he thought the drinking helped; they seemed to be worse on the night’s he drank heavier…you had tried pointing that out once and nearly lost a limb because of it. Logan wasn’t the most…level headed man; although you could say with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t ever hurt you…anymore.
You turned over to the best of your ability, still trapped under the dead weight of his arm. He hadn’t even noticed, just carried on mumbling incoherently in his sleep, jerking slightly. You reached with a hand to brush your thumb gently across his cheek and his features softened instantly as he relaxed under your touch.
“Shhh” you cooed, feeling his fingers twitch slightly against the small of your back “It’s okay, you’re safe” you whispered, his arm instinctively squeezing tighter, pulling you closer.
It was that exact moment that it occurred to you that Logan was no longer wearing a shirt….or pants…
You pressed your lips together in a hard line, wanting nothing more than to shake him awake and immediately demand an explanation, but you didn’t. This hadn't been the first time you had woken up with Logan next to you…. although it was a first for him to be sparsely clothed.
Instead, and in spite of yourself, you settled more comfortably against him, tucking your head under his chin and closed your eyes, letting the heat radiating from him lull you back to sleep.
***
The sun streamed in through the window far too early, and you cursed yourself for not remembering to close the curtains the night before.
You tried to roll over on your back and were met with a wall of resistance. Very warm resistance.
You shifted with a scoff, reaching to shove him.
“God, get off me, you're so hot” you whined, trying in vain to move away.
A grunt of response over your shoulder as Logan stirred awake. “Fuck” he growled, shielding his eyes from the light against your shoulder.
“That's what you get for drinking half the bar” you quipped, immediately gasping with surprise as his teeth found purchase in that same shoulder and you twisted away, turning to face him.
“Don’t bite me you weirdo”
He smirked sleepily with a shrug “Didn't seem to mind it much last time”
“Last time doesn't count” you muttered and he snorted with a laugh
“Just because you say it doesn't count doesn't mean it didn't happen”
“Shut up” you snapped, attempting to pull yourself up out of bed, and failing; Logan's strong arm keeping you pinned against his chest. “You were drunk”
“If memory serves, so were you” he whispered
“Yeah well,” you shrugged against him “That’s the thing about memories isn’t it?”
He sighed against your neck, his warm breath causing your skin to ripple with goosebumps
You closed your eyes and sighed as his fingertips toyed lazily with the fabric of your t-shirt “Logan” you breathed and he hummed questioningly against the hollow behind your ear
“Don’t,” you sighed heavily “W-we can’t”
Another hum as you turned your head and the tip of his nose dragged along the line of your jaw.
“Logan…” you repeated; noses nearly touching at this point
“Why not?” he whispered, lips brushing against yours as he spoke
You could feel your whole body flush with heat as you swallowed hard; mustering up enough willpower to push him back gently by the shoulders; his brown eyes searching your face.
“Because we said we wouldn’t, remember?” your voice was soft, but the words were shaky, you were on the verge of cracking and you had no doubt he knew it. You needed to move, needed to get out from under the delicious weight of his torso, needed to put space between you….
You cleared your throat and wriggled out from under his arm, throwing the blanket back as you clumsily got to your feet.
“C’mon,” he coaxed, propped on an arm “We’re both adults”
“Yes, exactly” you nodded in agreement as you turned away, pushing your hair back off your face “Adults who make informed sober decisions”
“I prefer your drunken decisions”
“You would” you scoffed “Get out of my bed”
“That’s not what you said last-”
“Will you shut up about last time?!” You snapped
“You’re bitchy in the morning” he mumbled climbing out of the bed on the other side.
“That’s rich coming from you” you rolled your eyes in spite of facing away from him as you pulled on a pair of jeans from the night before.
You came around the end of the bed, pushing around him as you pulled open the drawer to your dresser, digging for a clean shirt before looking up at him “Turn around”
He scrunched his nose slightly “Why?”
“What do you think this is, a peep show?”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before”
“Oh my god” you rolled your eyes again and Logan just shrugged
“Well it isn’t”
You sighed, not really having time to argue, you pulled your t-shirt over your head, dropping it on the floor at your feet. You looked up at Logan and he wasn’t looking back, you had been ready to give him shit until you noticed his eyes were fixed on your collarbone, and the ugly scar that disappeared under your bra strap. You pulled the clean shirt on, the scar covered underneath…at least most of the way; half an inch or so still poked out from under the deep v of your shirt. Logan’s eyes hadn’t moved.
“It’s fine” you spoke softly, snapping him from his thoughts and he met your eye. His usual grumpy scowl was more of a pout. “It’s fine” you repeated
He just grunted in response and you made to move around him to finish getting ready. “Everyone knows I shouldn’t be allowed around sharp objects” you joked with a gasp as he grabbed your wrist as you walked by, stopping you from going any further and turning you to face him. He towered over you, the man was unnaturally large…you often wondered how you managed to haul him up here multiple nights a week by yourself.
He hadn’t pulled you against him, but he stood close…too close.
The hand not holding your wrist slowly reached to push back the collar of your shirt, exposing more of your scar. Your free hand reached to close over his, keeping it in place.
The room was quiet for a beat before you spoke again, neither of you moved.
“That’s not why” you whispered; you were looking at him, but he was looking at the jagged raised skin across your collarbone.
You curled your fingers around his hand still resting against your chest. “I figured you would have forgotten” your voice still soft
His eyes met yours then, no hint of humor in his features.
“It’s fine,” you smiled gently “I lived”
“Barely” he finally spoke
“Well that’s what I get for trying to wake Edward Scissorhands from a nightmare”
He just glared
“Come on grump,” you changed the subject turning toward the door “Put some clothes on, you owe me breakfast”
“Owe you?” he repeated, letting you walk away
“Yeah,” you nodded, turning to look over your shoulder as you stood in the doorway “And I know most places have a pretty lax dress code, but I don’t think yellow boxer briefs are gonna cut it”
***
Despite having gone your separate ways after breakfast, Logan found his way back to his favourite bar stool by nine thirty. You watched him reach over the bar top and grab the bowl of peanuts you kept tucked underneath for when he inevitably showed his face. He had changed, you noticed, swapping the red flannel he’d had on this morning for a blue one.
You handed the guy across from you his change as he blatantly looked down the front of your top and you fought the urge to deck him as he dropped a twenty on the bartop.
“So..uh,” he started and you would bet it took every ounce of strength he had in him to meet your gaze “What time do you get off?”
You laughed lightly taking the money off the bar and shook your head “No thanks”
“What?” he pressed, “You got like a boyfriend or something?”
“Or something” you smiled politely
“Well he’s not here is he?” the guy tried again
“Well,” you shrugged, scrunching your nose and glanced down the bar before looking back to him.
“That guy?” his face twisting in disapproval as he looked down the bar at Logan who was finishing off his first round of peanuts. “You know who that is don’t you?”
You raised your eyebrows, straightening your stance
“He-”
“You can leave now” you cut him off “Thank you”
“But-” he looked from you down to Logan and back at you
“What can I say,” you smiled “I like ‘em sloppy”
The guy opened his mouth to say something more and thought better of it, closing it again.
“Wise choice” you rolled your eyes before turning on your heel and making your way down to the end of the bar where Logan sat.
“Fancy meeting you here” you smiled setting his usual glass in front of him and refilling the empty bowl
He took the glass, nearly draining it before putting it back down “You changed”
You laughed lightly with a shrug, handing him the whiskey bottle. “This outfit gets me better tips”
He looked up with a raised eyebrow as you gently tossed the twenty you’d just been given on the bar in front of him. “Doesn’t have pockets though, hold on to that for me, would you?”
“What do I look like, a bank?” he grumbled
“No,” you smirked “But I owe you”
His eyes narrowed again as he studied your face “You’re giving me your tip money?”
“No,” you said again
“But you owe me?” he asked, lines in his forehead deepening
You giggled, walking around the bar, intentionally walking too close to where he sat, brushing against his broad shoulder. You knew you were flirting with disaster, but you had started to regret not taking him up on his offer this morning….against your better judgment…and getting under Logan’s skin was so easy, sober or not.
“Stop it” he warned
You stopped mid stride, chest purposefully pressed against his shoulder. “What?”
He glared and you smirked “You're so easy to rile” you teased, messing up his hair “I thought it was nothing you haven't seen before”
“You wanna play this game?” He narrowed his eyes
“Who's playing?” You leaned to whisper next to his ear.
He growled and you giggled before walking away to make your rounds.
#fic#logan howlett#logan x reader#logan wolverine#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#hugh jackman wolverine
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What got you into gaining?
I was into feederism since I was like 12 but was originally just into fat girls and one day wanting to be a feeder. I was relatively fit for a boy throughout my whole life up until covid when I accidentally gained some weight after stopping sports in high school.
I started smoking weed, eating tons and being so lazy. I quit all sports, quit the gym and I eventually quit going on runs after having fluctuations with my weight. I couldn’t shake off the extra quarantine pounds and I soon realised I was into being fatter. It made sense after all since I had a huge love for fat girls and feederism in general.
And since then I’ve been gaining, started posting online around the start of 2021 when I was like 180lbs and didn’t really get much attention nor was I putting on weight that much. I made a Patreon in 2022 to help fund and encourage me to gain more and I started to get more attention. I posted more on Twitter and tumblr and as my following grew, so did my belly 🤭
The past year has been the best for gaining progress and I thank my 6 months spent in Australia for that. Living away from family without a proper routine meant that I was smoking weed all day everyday and ordering takeaway basically every day too. I did some of my first irl feederism meet ups too whilst I was in Aus and it was honestly so fun and encouraging (even got to hook up with a girl who was 200kg+ 😉) and since coming back I’ve kept those unhealthy eating habits and continued to grow and grow.
Sorry for going on for so long but just felt like I should really go into my history with feederism for once 😅 hope you enjoyed reading this and getting to know me a bit better 😊
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Hellooo! Your writing is sooo fun to read that I've been rereading it multiple times now🤭🤭🤭 sooo I kinda wanted to request another post about reader fighting back against the bullies with crowe this time if that's okay, and take your time!
(ps, it's also okay if you ignore this, i hope you have a wonderful day/evening/night! ❤️❤️❤️)
GUARDIAN ANGEL
KYAAA THANK U SM GIGGLING TWIRLING MY HAIR KICKING MY FEET ♡!! I LOVE CROWE SO MUCH BROO!!! Did u know my first fic ever posted here was supposed to be with Crowe but I changed it to Sol instead cz I thought ppl wouldn't like it sobsob
☆: "Someone is creeping you out while hanging out with Crowe, surely you should teach them a lesson, no?"
★: Crowe x gn!reader
☆: Contains: Baddie reader yurr !! Downbad Crowe, creepy dudes, post friend group plot, mutual pining I need to breed him
The bell's ring echoed throughout the entire school, indicating lunch time as students hurriedly pack their things to rush towards their friends and eat at the cafeteria. You were calmer than your unruly classmates, screaming and yelling in excitement as they rushed to their groups and cliques. "Its like they've never experienced the lunch bell go off"
You mused to yourself, happy enough to know that you at least have one friend in your school. Yet he still hasn't shown his pretty little face in your classroom yet, usually he'd pick you up and walk you to the cafeteria, but it seems that isn't the case this time.
"Yo, (Name), I usually see your boyfie pick you up at this time, wonder why he isn't here" your seatmate puts his arm on your head, practically using you as an armrest, making you groan and push him away with red dusting your cheeks "Can it! He's not my...boyfriend.."
Your heart rate picked up as you muttered those words as an evident flush on your cheeks got redder, gaining you a knowing stare from your seatmate as a laugh escaped his throat, smacking your back playfully "Yeah. Sure. And I'm the president of the United States," he marked sarcastically, waving his arms dramatically.
You scoffed, standing up from your seat, and walked your way out of the classroom door, ignoring the cheerful yells and encouragements from your seatmate. "Get yo mans!" He echoed out to you, which promptly made you walk faster in embarrassment.
It didn't take you too long to notice him standing by a vending machine. Taking your chance, you tiptoed your way behind him and gipped his shoulders. "There you are!" You yelled, making him flinch in surprise, snapping his head towards you. His shocked expression made you laugh at his dismay.
He merely sighed and shook his head with a small smile on his face, "You're such a tease, (Name)" his voice was smooth as honey, eyes glinting in nothing but adoration. Oh how you looked divine when you laughed.
"Says you! It's not nice to keep me waiting for that long, you know! Hurt my feelings a bit.." you playfully sulked as a joke, but Crowe seemingly took it too seriously, brows furrowing as an apologetic expression dressed his face "I didn't mean to, there were just some things I had to do before going to you"
Seeing his obviously saddened face made you panic a bit "No—! It was a joke, don't worry! I didn't mind looking for you anyway. " You were quick to reassure, trying to ease his worries a bit, but he simply shook his head. "Still, I shouldn't have made you wait so long. You deserve only the best, (Name)"
His voice is so genuine, and how he stared at you sent shivers down your spine. He's always like this, always putting your needs before himself, always putting you on his first priority before anything else. Curse him and his prince-like behavior!
But before you could ask what he was up to, you felt a random hand hit your ass, laughter, and whistles could be heard as you snapped your head towards the source in anger.
A group of sloppy looking men with dirty uniforms and rolled up sleeves showing their tattoos chortled and snorted at you, as if their making fun of you getting angry with their disgusting actions. "Aww, what's wrong, doll? Wasn't hard enough? I can be more rough if you like"
The main, blonde guy leaned in closer to your face as you winced at the strong smell of his breath. Your expression made them laugh harder, giving each other high fives and fists bumps as if making you uncomfortable is an achievement.
"What do you think you're doing...?"
A hand protectively held your shoulder, making you look up. Crowe's eyes were nothing compared to what you're used to. Eyes that were once filled with love and softness were now filled with pure, raw anger. Yet, he was still gentle with you, carefully maneuvering you to stay behind him, protecting you like a shield.
The boys took one glance at him and scanned him head to toe, judging his every move. The blonde whistled and clicked his tongue, staggering towards the taller male "Watch it, golden boy. You may be class rep or whatever bullshit title they gave you. But these parts are my territory, so I make the goddamn fuckin' rules here." He practically spat out, his lackies cheering him on with vulgar words and descriptions.
If Crowe is pissed, then you're seething.
You hated being insulted, yes, but you hated it even more when people belittle those you care about. So without thinking, you stepped forward and faced the blonde head on, catching Crowe off guard.
"My territory! blah blah, you pissed on this school and claimed it yours like a dog then?"
A sound of surprise was heard from the blonde, even gaining a gasp from their lackies. Clearly, they weren't expecting you to fight back. Crowe got worried, fearing that you might be in danger now. "(Name)—"
"You think you're so fucking funny?"
Without knowing, the blonde grabbed you by the collar and slammed you against the vending machine. Hard glass hitting the back of your head made you groan. Yet you still managed to stare at your attacker dead in the eyes, not running away from a fight you intend to win.
He mocked you with a laugh "Doll, you look so cute when you're angry, but one more goddamn word from your mouth and I'm bashing your fucking skull inside this machine" he threatened, his spit sliding onto your face.
"Yeah? 'Cause I'm about to get real fuckin' adorable"
You raised your foot and kicked him between his legs. A pained groan could be heard as he instinctively dropped you back onto your feet, groveling in pain. But before he could fight back, you grabbed his hair and smashed his head so hard onto the vending machine it broke through the glass. Knocking him out.
You dusted yourself off before turning to the two, shivering lackies, huddling together in an attempt to look smaller and hide from your view. "Who's next?" A malicious smile etched your features, making them scream and run away with their tails between their legs, yelling out apologies and pleads for mercy until they disappeared.
You stood still for a moment, taking in a deep breath to ground yourself. Turning your head to look at the blonde's unconscious body and winced "Yikes...didn't mean to hit him that hard" you played with his arm, lifting and dropping it like a toy.
"Yoo, check it out, Crowe! He's now a—"
"Why did you do that?!" You glanced at him in confusion, eyes locking onto wide and worried ones. "Ehh? They were talking smack about you! I had to do something!" You responded with crossed arms and a pout on your lips. "The least you can do is say thank yo—"
Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around your body in a tight hug. You stood there, not fulling processing what's happening. "You're so reckless..." His voice was a whisper, not daring to speak any louder, not daring to let you go. You didn't know that your actions affected him this much. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his gently.
His breathing eventually calmed down a bit as he let you go. Once again, there's this softness in his eyes, staring right at you as if you held all the stars in the world and placed it all in your eyes, tracing constellations in your gaze. You felt his hand cup your cheek with the same gentle motion, treating you like divinity.
"You don't know how worried I was about you, (Name). Really..." he leaned his forehead onto yours, his other arm wrapping onto your waist, pulling you two closer than before until your bodies are touching so close you could hear each other's heartbeat. And his was racing.
You scoffed, wrapping your arms around his neck. Both of you are in a daze of adrenaline to even process what the two of you are doing, but what mattered right now is each other's company and comfort. "My fault, didn't know I was such a diva" you made light of the situation, earning a sigh from him as he pinched your cheek.
"More like a trouble maker than anything," he retorted, which earned an offended gasp from you and slapped his chest in mock play. "How dare you insult your guardian angel! Oh woe is me. I am so pitiful!" You dramatically leaned back with the back of your hand on your forehead, he laughed at your playfulness and pulled you in closer to spin you around like a waltz dance and dramatically dropped you, his arm supporting your body as his eyes are solely focused on you.
He gently held your other hand and kissed your knuckles with a smile. "Thank you, angel.." he whispered so softly that it was barely audible. Your cheeks flushed as your teasing words died on your throat, rendered absolutely speechless.
You quickly stood up straight and pushed him away in embarrassment, looking away from him as you tried to calm down your beating heart "...That's cheating" you muttered and kicked the cement, glaring holes onto the ground in an attempt to make it seem your unphased by his shameless flirt.
A laugh was heard beside you. Feeling his hand take in yours again as he wordlessly walked you away from the ugly sight you left at the vending machine. Though he is class representative, and it is his job to keep everyone in check, he finds himself making exceptions for you. No matter how brutal you might get. If anyone from his class would have caught him right now, they'd blame him for favoritism.
But what's more shocking is that he doesn't seem to have any need to deny it.
Silently picking up the paper bag he left nearby, leaving you still unaware of what he's holding, Lazer focused on calming your heart. And oh, does he find that absolutely adorable.
Perhaps he will just slip the snacks and drinks he bought for you from the vending machine under your table once you need it.
Chat imma be fr here, lowkey hated this LMAO yrgghh felt like I could've done better but my class starts at 6 and it's already 5:37 HELPPP
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oooooh HELLO NEW CONTESTANT!!
Ps. Im so sorry for whoever has to see this huge chain of reblogs.
So yeah that was semi the plan love love love your thoughts except I had the idea that eventually they would find the cure BECAUSE of wade. Since wade can consent (and can restrain himself not to chomp people) he (unfortunately) would infact be the perfect test subject and because logan is definitely not gonna let some assholes test his lover without making sure its ethical and not harm him more then good, Wade would be quite accepting.
It also helps (Now don't look at me like that- you gotta understand his situation) that wade is very food and affection motivated so yes while he does still feel pain and heals slower then usual (still way faster then a human) it would only be natural for him to whine or not want hurt.
So yeah, in between shots and what not he's given pieces of meat and hugged, nuzzled, etc.
"One more and then were done. Hear me?" Logan tells them, coming to wade, Giving him some left overs and putting his arm around him.
"Just one more okay? Then we'll go see the girls."
He nods, mouth already full of the food, happy at the mention from the girls.
Another thing is Wade dosn't just wonder off in a sense of he dosn't know what hes doing or just aimlessly is leaving like how other zombies mindlessly walk around. Wade "wonders off" mainly because he knows if he dosn't eat anything soon hes going to hurt someone and he dosn't want that so he removes himself from the situation.
He also eats just about anything. Yeah he heavily prefers meat because something about the virus craves protein, its why his muscles have gotten weaker too but the virus knows of they eat their host there wont be anymore.
Most zombies die because the virus starves and has to eat the host, but because when they eat wades cancer it just keeps coming back, and eventually the cancer would whoop the virus's ass due to sheer out numbering but I like to think that before things get better (much like cancer) it gets WAY worse.
So yes, for a year or two hes off an on, randomly being feral the first year but the second year only being feral about once a month for a short period of time.
He slowly is becoming better and better as the third year rolls around to the point where he hasn't been feral in awhile, slipping up only because he hasn't eaten in 2 days, in which Logan apologizes to him because it's winter and theres not much to spare.
Wade knows he gets fed last, and honestly isn't too upset about it. He's lucky to get food twice a day simply from how scarce it is. In the summer its a lot better, much more animals come out, theres a lot of plants, hell the girls started a garden before Logan and Wade even found them so often times they have food its just... not.. sustainable.. for wade.
Yes, he'll eat it. He'll eat it all, clear his entire plate like hes been starving for months but he needs the protein. He needs the high fat content. Its why he gets a lot of beans.
Laura had even managed to trade for a chicken that first year but uhhhhhh wade ate it.... just... mauled the poor thing. Ripped it to shreds. It made gabs cry because she already named the hen "Penny". Well. No more penny. And now Wade isnt allowed out back by the chicken coop no more.
Sometimes, still 3 years later, She'll catch wade crouched down and staring at them with such wide eyes, like a cat watching a fish in a bowl.
"What are you doin? Get away from there! You know better." She'll tell him and he'll whine at her a bit because once in a great while Logan will let him pet the chickens. He'll hold it tight and let Wade run his fingers on its back with the biggest grin. But after whats happened to penny? No sir. He wasnt allowed to pet them without Logan around.
He's just so... hungry. And there's nothing really anyone can do about it. Because of this though, Wade makes a great hunter and well... sometimes.. even in the third year half of the animal will be eaten by the time he brings it home but he does infact bring home many intact kills. It sucks though because bassically anything Wade puts his mouth on or licks immediately is thrown out and cant be eaten by the girls or logan, So yeah.. Logan gets frustrated when Wade comes home with a useless deer because wade already took a chunk out of it.
By the fourth year wade is allowed to sleep in the house nightly, is allowed to hug the girls each day, and can control himself enough to even have dinner with them as a family. Year 4s biggest issue right now is that he keeps trying to kiss them. Trying to kiss the girls cheeks, trying to kiss logan, and he keeps trying to share food, trying to give Gabs more vegetables off his plate when now her entire plate is ruined because of cross contamination.
From what they know is that this virus is similar to rabies because it stems from the same family in which feasts on proteins and fat but its evolved enough to understand that the host needs to be able to do things such as swallow and walk so they do not attack the spinal cord or the ceribellum which controls movements. Unlike rabies in who devoures the brain, rendering the person not to be able to swallow and mindlessly walks around looking for water especially in heavily dense human population with zero fear. (Seen in foxes the most)
The zombie virus does attack the Broca's area though in which controls speech. They attack other parts of the brain like memory logic and processing but because of how much cancer wade has it just keeps growing back.
Some early days of being bitten he will just stare at you like a dementia patient trying to remember who you are, other days he will run into a door and then just stand there like a sim who cant move because theres a plate on the ground.
It also is better for him to NOT get bit or licked again by other zombies so after year one Logan stops letting him eat other zombies, noticing that he gets worse afterwards because he becomes reinfected. This- Has limited wades food sources to human grade stuff, aka.... a lot less.. which causes more snappiness for a few days, but after 2 weeks he improves a lot.
By year 5 he has an entire week straight where he is unconscious, growling and struggling against the chains in the shed. Logan is sitting out side of the shed on a stump, crying because he dosn't know what happened or what to do. Wade was doing so good to the point he was starting not to worry about him biting anymore and now he was at square one.
The next day he sees that the noise has stopped and wade is pased out for another good week. Logan is almost relieved. He thinks Wades body finally gave up. Finally died.
He sobs that morning, Whispering thank yous to nothing and im sorrys. He dosnt even know why hes apologizing, he didnt do it. If he could put wade out of his misery he would have done it years ago, so this is a blessing.
Laura, much like her father, has very mixed feelings, crying behind closed doors but is glad. Finally he wouldn't hurt anymore.
Being barley 18 now, Gabs still sobs. Cries that its not fair that her papa died. Cries because he was so nice to her and now he was gone for good. She would never get to hug her papa ever again.
This was until...anyway.. when 8 days later theres a soft knock on the inside of the shed. Logan couldn't bare the idea of him coming back and hurting the girls so he sealed off the shed, being his husbands forever tomb.
At first he thinks its a cruel joke. "Gabby, quit! That's not funny-"
"What dad?"
But if gabs wasn't doing that, and lauras in the house..
Carefully, he unlocks it, peeking in to see Wade awkwardly standing here. Blinking.
"...hai..?"
"....hi...??"
"...urrhhm... yor wracked meh n hare.."
Logan swears hes gone insane, he could have SWORN his dead husband just said "You locked me in here" and "hi"
His skin looking better, less open gashes and healed up, still scarred up but no longer really decomposing.
This has to be a dream right?
"..no.. No. Ha! Heh.. no."
"...no rhat?"
He stares in disbelief, wondering how in gods name he was alive still. And talking? Like.. actually talking.. Tears run down his face faster then he can think, Gabby is already crying and quickly unchaining him. "You're the worst dad ever!! Yo-you know that!?" She sobs, angry from the hurt but also so glad that he was okay.
"Ar rnow... I Sarry."
"B-but you were gone- I... I saw you.. you were rotting and everything.."
"Rhat rRh- er... h-harppins." He smiles softly, worried just how much he upset his family, and is even more worried by how tight Logan held him and sobbed into his shoulder. "You fucking IDIOT!" He cries, breaking a few of his ribs.
"Aouch! Owr" he whines, turning his head from him and everything, not wanting any of his saliva to touch Logan despite him desperately trying to bury himself in his neck.
It wasn't much Laura seen her father like this, but she has a pretty similar reaction, complete with a slap and telling him to never die on them ever again.
"Nor pramases!"
Hello there. You must be crying by now. Dont worry so am I. If anyone wishes to draw zombie wade I would be extremely happy. Different stages would be so cool to see. I might do a little sketch if I have time. Anyway. Here. You will need these.
I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO
Anyway.
Thinking about apocolpse au.
Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)
"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"
And wades like:
"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"
And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)
"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."
"Rah?" 🤔
"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."
"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)
"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."
"Raah!!" 😄
And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)
But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.
The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.
Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.
"Grr-"
"Aye! That's enough outta ya"
"GggRah!"
"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"
"Mmmh??"
"Bad!!"
"Mmh....rahah.."
"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"
Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.
He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.
"...aahh-"
"Wade- No."
"Ggr.. raahh"
"Wade! No! Bad."
"Mmmh..."
"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"
He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.
"Then don't bite me."
"Mmh? Mrah?"
"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."
"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"
"No, not even a tiny one."
"Mm...😔"
Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"
"🙂↕️mh"
"Good."
Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.
You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.
This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.
"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"
"Rahahrah?"
"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"
"Aawr..😔"
The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.
He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.
This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.
Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally
When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.
"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'
Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.
"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.
Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..
#zombie au#laura kinney#gabby kinney#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool 3#wolverine#deadclaws#zombies are bassically just rabid humans#with protein deficiency#apocalypse
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hi again ems!! (hope its okay if i call you that 😭) im the one who sent the last req, you wrote it so wonderfully. thanks for your concerns, wishing you the best !!
no pressure once again!! could you possibly write fluff about els taking you on a lil picnic to a flower field ? thank you once again!! 💗💗
picnic date
summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ picnic day with your lover
warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ none, this is pure fluff i think
author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ hey!! omg your welcome to the person who sent this!!! i love uuu. i hope you like this one :)) also it's totally okay to call me em!! please feel free to send more request if you'd like!!!
and i'm so fucking sorry this took too long and it's too short. i've been busy lately but i have a week of online classes bc of some weird shit going on in my country so i hope i'll be able to write more.
have a good day everyone❤️
Ellie takes you on a date. A picnic date, precisely. She knows you've been stressed lately, and she thought taking you out might help take your mind off things—at least for a while. You knew it would be lovely, but not like this. This is beautiful. Going to a flower field has always been on your bucket list, let alone having a picnic with the person you love most.
"Ellie!" you exclaim. "Why did you—I mean… Shit. This is beautiful."
Ellie leaves the basket of food on the blanket, then stands behind you, wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss on your neck.
"You deserve this," she says, resting her chin on your shoulder as you look out at the flower field. It feels like a dream—dating her has always felt this way. "I hope you enjoy it. It took me a while to find a place like this."
You turn around, and her hands never leave your body; they settle on your hips now. "I love this."
The sun peeks through the clouds and shines directly into her eyes and along the curve of her nose. You’ve always thought she’s pretty—but in moments like this, when it’s just the two of you with nothing to do but enjoy each other’s presence, she looks ethereal. You kiss her, both of your hands on her cheeks.
"Thank you for bringing me here," you say as you both sit down. "Really, you didn't have to."
"I wanted to." She shrugs, smiling. "I thought we should do something nice; it's been a while since we've had time for ourselves."
You lean in for another kiss, which Ellie returns happily.
"God," you say, letting your head rest on her shoulder, "What did I do to deserve you?"
"You're asking me that?" she says, incredulous. "You're the prettiest, smartest, sweetest, and coolest girl I've ever met… How could I not love you? That's the real question."
You feel your cheeks flush, a warm pink spreading across your face as you look up at her. You’ve always thought Ellie was prettier than you—hell, you’ve always thought she was better at everything. She’s smart, beautiful, and always knows what to say. But the way she talks about you always makes you feel like she’s put you on a pedestal, for better or worse.
You chuckle, eyes bright with devotion. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too." Ellie’s the one to kiss you now, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I really can't believe I'm dating you."
After you finish eating, you eventually end up with your head resting on her lap. The sun has faded a bit, leaving blue and orange streaks scattered across the sky. It looks beautiful, you think, as Ellie tucks daisies into your hair, braiding a strand every now and then. It feels nice, her fingers brushing against your scalp.
"You look so sleepy, baby," Ellie chuckles, finishing with a kiss on your forehead. "Are you sure you don't want to head back?"
You shake your head and sit up. "Can we stay a while longer?"
Ellie doesn’t answer; she leans in for a kiss and gently guides you both to lie down until your back hits the ground, with her next to you, propped up on one elbow. One of her hands rests on your cheek, her thumb gently caressing your skin as you keep on kissing.
When you pull away, Ellie rests her head on your chest. You wrap your arms around her.
"I think we can stay here a little while longer."
#ellie williams#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x reader#fic#lesbian#the last of us 2#tlou#reqs open#fluff#x reader#ellie williams fan fiction#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams fic#emwrites ; ⋆
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