#watch this post get like one sympathy note

[gracieblood]

mutuals weird question but do any of you have long-ish hair with a blonde moneypiece

[milfygerard]

sometimes i go thru the gaylor tag to see updates or reactions or something and its so funny everytime. You people are insane i respect literally none of you etc etc

[v6quewrlds]

❝ infinity, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: the bengals suffer a devastating loss against the eagles. it takes everything within you to face joe, hoping you'll be able to remind him of his worth.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: wrote this so fast as soon as the request came in. ty to anon for requesting <3 it's a little sad. i'm gonna be honest, part of me wanted to write an argument where the guy wasn't throwing shit and breaking stuff. the other stuff was secondary lmao. another installment to the joe is a munch agenda.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established but unlabeled relationship, sad!joey, he raises his voice but gets put right back in line, shower sex, kind of a pity fuck but we ball, romantic doggy style, cunnilingus, cum eating???, apologies as foreplay, sappy couple activities.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.9k.

The stadium lights shone like a beacon of hope in a sea of despair, as the final whistle blew and the crowd's roar faded into a disheartened murmur. The Cincinnati Bengals had lost to the Eagles in a game that had started out so promisingly. You felt the weight of the loss in the air, thick and palpable, as you sat in the Burrow family suite, your eyes locked on the field. You knew Joe wouldn't be coming up to join you with a victory smile tonight.

As the players trickled off the field, you hugged Robin and Jimmy goodbye, the tension etched in their faces mirroring the tension coiled in your chest. They whispered their sympathy and concern for their son's mood before heading out to face the gauntlet of traffic. Your gaze followed them, watching as they disappeared into the throng of fans, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for their escape. You knew Joe would be less than pleasant after a game like this, and you steeled yourself for the long night ahead.

The family reception area was a hum of disappointed chatter and forced smiles, but your eyes remained glued to the TV broadcasting Joe's post-game press conference. You saw the tightness in his jaw, the furrow in his brow, and the way he clenched his fists when asked about the second half's collapse. Your heart went out to him, and you hoped that once you were alone, he would let you in, let you help him bear the brunt of his emotions.

You couldn't bear to watch as Joe lifted himself from the press chair to retreat back to the locker room. You waited, sipping on a warm soda that had gone flat, feeling the condensation slip down your hand and pool at your fingertips. The other girlfriends and wives offered you words of support, but you knew their hands were full with their own distressed partners. You were on your own in this.

A delicate hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned to see the concerned face of Chase Brown's girlfriend, whose name you couldn't quite recall in the haze of the angsty loss. The shorter woman offered a small, understanding smile. "It's going to be okay," she murmured. "They’re all pros. They’ll bounce back." You nodded, mustering a smile of your own. But you knew it wasn't just the game weighing on Joe. It was the pressure, the expectations, and the unspoken fears that came with being at the top.

The minutes dragged on, turning into what felt like hours, before the locker room doors swung open and a parade of burly, ego-bruised men began to make their way out. They were a mix of anger and defeat, each one avoiding eye contact with the small group of women waiting patiently. Your eyes darted to each face, searching for the one you knew so well, the one that could bring you a semblance of peace in this chaotic aftermath. He remained elusive, a ghost in the shadows of his own misery.

Your heart hammered in your chest, lip nervously bitten raw as you watched the locker room door swing open and shut with the rhythm of the exiting players. Your eyes searched the crowd, locking with the weary eyes of the coaches who offered you a nod of sympathy. Each nod felt like a punch to the gut, reinforcing the gravity of Joe's mood. When the hallways grew quiet, you remained the sole family member standing. The emptiness of the reception area echoed the silence in your chest.

After several empty minutes that stretched on toward forever, a Bengals staff member approached you. "Ma'am," he said, his voice thick with understanding, "Joe requested that I bring you to the locker room." You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat, and followed the man down the corridor. The air grew denser with each step, the scent of sweat and defeat growing stronger. When you reached the locker room, Joe was exactly where you had imagined he would be: slumped over his locker, staring into the abyss of his open duffle bag.

The moment your eyes met, you saw his shoulders tense and you knew he was fighting to keep his emotions in check. "You ready?" You asked, your voice soft and gentle. He didn't answer, just looked up at you with a mix of anger and defeat that made you want to wrap him in a warm embrace and whisk him away from all of this.

As you stepped closer, Joe stood up, and you could see the exhaustion etched into his features. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. The harshness of his words stung, but you knew it was the pain talking. You took his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The two of you walked side by side through the exit path of the stadium, the clack of your footsteps echoing off the cold, concrete walls. You tried to fill the silence with gentle inquiries, but Joe remained tight-lipped, his jaw set in a firm line of anger. His hand felt clammy in yours, a contrast to the warmth of his usual touch. When you reached the car, he paused, his hand hovering over the handle. He looked at you, his blue eyes stormy with unspoken emotions.

"Do you mind driving?" he asked, his tone a mix of apology and defeat. You nodded, understanding that he needed the time and space to process. You slid into the driver's seat, your eyes gently sweeping over his tired form as he slipped into the passenger seat. The engine purred to life, and you pulled out of the parking lot, steering the two of you homeward through the deserted Cincinnati streets.

The silence in the car was heavy, broken only by the occasional hiss of the tires against the damp asphalt. Your thoughts raced, trying to find the right words to ease Joe's pain without triggering his already frayed nerves. You knew he was a man of few words, especially when he was hurt, but you had to try. "You played your heart out tonight, Joe," you said, your voice low and soothing. "The team will learn from this."

Joe's gaze remained fixed out the window, the streetlights casting shadows on his profile. "It's not just the game, babe," he finally said, his voice tight. "It's everything. The pressure, the criticism, the feeling that no matter what I do, it's never enough."

You squeezed his hand, your eyes never leaving the road. "You're more than enough, Joe," you said firmly. "They haven't given you much help since '22. It's a miracle you've taken them this far." Your words hung in the air, unanswered, but you could feel the tension in his body ease slightly.

Once you arrived home, Joe remained in the car, his hand still in yours. You waited, giving him the space he needed to gather himself. When he finally opened the door, you followed suit, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere in the car. As the two of you stepped into your quiet home, Joe's shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy sigh. You could feel the weight of his frustration, his eyes still holding the storm of his emotions.

Without a word, you led him into the living room, gesturing for him to sit on the plush couch. He sank into it, his eyes remained closed as you headed off towards the kitchen. You reached for one of the few beers stored in the fridge, figuring he could break his strict diet in the shadow of such a crushing loss. You handed him one, and as the cap twisted off, the sound echoed in the silence. He took a long pull, the tension in his throat bobbing with the effort of swallowing.

You sat down next to him, your hand resting on his knee, waiting patiently for him to speak. It was a dance you had done before, the aftermath of a tough game. The living room, usually a sanctuary of laughter and comfort, was now a battlefield of unspoken words and heavy sighs. The TV remained off, the only illumination coming from the moonlight that filtered through the blinds.

Finally, Joe opened his eyes, looking at you with a mix of anger and sadness. "We had them," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "We had the game in the bag and we let them take it." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for validation. You leaned in closer, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder.

"You did everything you could," you said softly. "Sometimes, it's not all on you."

Joe's eyes searched yours, looking for a sign of doubt, but your gaze was steadfast. You knew he was a man who took his losses hard, especially when it came to football. It was his sanctuary, his escape from the world, and when it crumbled around him, it was like watching a piece of him break.

He took another sip of his beer, his eyes focused on the floor "It's not just the game," he repeated. "It's the whispers, the doubt. Everyone's watching me, expecting me to be Superman, and when I'm not, they tear me apart." Your heart ached for him, knowing he felt like the world was on his shoulders.

"You're human, Joe," you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. "You're allowed to have a bad day."

Joe's gaze met yours, his eyes searching for solace in the depths of your warm brown irises. He knew you were right, but it didn't make the sting of defeat any less potent. He took another deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. "But that's the point. I didn't have a bad day. I haven't had a bad day since I fractured my wrist." His words were laced with frustration, and you could feel the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

You kept silent, watching as he stood up from the couch with a sudden jerk. "Dammit," he cursed, the bottle of beer clutched tightly in his hand. "I can't do this anymore." He began to pace, his long strides eating up the space in the room.

"Do what?" You asked, your voice calm and measured.

Joe's eyes flashed with anger, his pacing growing more agitated. "I can't keep carrying this team on my back," he said, his voice rising. "The front office, the coaches, they all expect miracles, and when I don't deliver because I have no help on the other end, it's like I've failed them." He stopped and turned to you, his expression desperate. "I'm tired of it."

Your heart ached with love for Joe. You knew the pressure he was under, knew the kind of man he was. A man who took every loss personally, who never blamed his teammates even when they deserved it. "You haven't failed, Joe," you said, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've done everything they've asked of you and more. You can't control everything out there on the field."

But Joe was on a roll, his emotions spilling out like a dam that had been holding back a flood for too long. "They expect me to be perfect, and when I'm not, it's like the world's ending," he continued, his voice rising with every word. "And what do I get for it? I get fuckin' thrown out there to face the press and tell them we're working on it, we're gonna fix it." He slammed the beer bottle down on the coffee table, the sound echoing through the room.

Your eyes widened at his outburst, the fear of his anger turning into something more volatile rising in your chest. But you remained calm, your voice a gentle reprieve from the storm raging inside Joe. "They're just doing their job," you offered. "They don't mean to put it all on you. You're just an easy target."

Joe scoffed, turning away from you. "Easy target? That's all I am to them. A face to put on the cover of the Bengals' shit show." His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

You stood, moving closer to him, your  hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Joe, you need to take a deep breath. You're working yourself up over this."

Joe spun around, his eyes flashing. "You don't get it!" he snapped, and you took a step back, your hand dropping to your side. It was a line the two of you had never crossed before, the sound of his raised voice a crushing reminder of the unspoken rule you had both agreed upon.

For a moment, the room was still, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside your windows. Then Joe's shoulders dropped, and the anger drained from his face, leaving only a tired, defeated man. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to yell."

"But you did," you said softly, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And that's not how we agreed to handle things." You didn't mean to be harsh, but you needed him to understand that his behavior had crossed a line. "I know you're upset, Joe. But I can't be your punching bag. I'm not the reason why you're angry."

Joe's took a deep breath, his chest deflating as he nodded slowly, regret etched on his face. "You're right. I'm sorry." He stepped closer, reaching for you, but you stepped back out of his grasp, needing a moment to collect yourself.

"I know you're hurt and frustrated, but that's not an excuse," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "I'm here for you, but I need you to talk to me, not at me."

Joe's gaze dropped to the floor, his eyes brimming with regret. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving with the effort to keep his emotions in check. "You're right," he murmured. "I'm sorry." He reached out to you again, this time with a softness that you recognized. You let out a sigh of relief, letting yourself be drawn into his embrace. He held you tight, his body trembling slightly with the weight of his apology.

"It's okay," you whispered, stroking his hair. "I know it's hard. And I'm sorry this is what you're dealing with."

Joe nodded into your embrace, his breaths slowly evening out.

"I'm going to take a shower, okay?" You said, pulling away from Joe's embrace. "I need a moment to think." You didn't wait for his response, heading upstairs to your bedroom. You could feel his eyes on your back, heavy with regret and sadness.

In the bathroom, you turned the shower knob, letting the hot water cascade over you. The steam filled the room, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, but it couldn't wash away the tension that clung to you like a second skin. You stepped under the spray, letting the water beat down on you, the sound of it a white noise that drowned out the world outside. You felt the tightness in your muscles begin to ease as the heat seeped into your bones.

Midway through your shower, the bathroom door creaked open. Your heart skipped a beat, expecting Joe to come in, apologize again, but instead, you felt his hands on your waist, his body pressing against yours. You tensed, ready to pull away, but when he whispered, "I'm sorry," into your ear, you melted into his touch. His warm skin settled against your wet skin, and you allowed yourself to be held, to be a source of comfort for him.

The water rained down on the two of you  as Joe's hands began to move over your body, his gentle touch soothing your nerves. His lips found the crook of your neck, kissing tenderly, and you closed your eyes, letting his apology wash over you. The loofah in his hand glided across your skin, scrubbing away the sweat and anxiety from the game, and with it, the tension of the evening.

"I'm sorry," Joe murmured again, his voice barely audible over the shower. "I shouldn't have snapped." His hands moved to your shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the taut muscles, trying to ease the knots of your frustration.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closed. "It's okay," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "We all have our moments." Joe's grip tightened, and you could feel his need to be closer, to erase the space between you.

"What did you think of the game?" Joe asked, his voice a gentle rumble in the confines of the shower. You could feel the tension in his body as he worked to scrub away the physical and emotional grime of the loss.

"You played hard, like you always do," you replied, your voice echoing off the tiles. "But the team's chemistry was off. On both sides of the ball." You knew Joe didn't need to hear about the interceptions or the fumbles, but rather, the underlying issues that had led to their defeat.

"Yeah, I could feel it," Joe mumbled, his voice tight with frustration. "It's like we forgot how to play as a team." You nodded, your eyes still closed as Joe's hands moved down your back, tracing the lines of your spine. "They're relying on you too much," you said, your voice firm. "You can't do everything on your own."

The loofah stilled for a moment, and you felt Joe's chest expand with a deep breath. Deciding to continue delivering your thoughts, you sighed and said, "The secondary needs to step up, and the coaches need to get their act together." The warmth of his hands resumed their gentle massage, a silent acknowledgment of your words.

"I know," Joe murmured, his voice thick with frustration. "It's just..." He trailed off, unable to find the words. You knew his thoughts well, the pressure of being a quarterback, the weight of a city's hopes and dreams on his shoulders.

When the two of you met, Joe was a 3rd string quarterback with no chance of touching a football during a game at Ohio State. You, a nutrition major, found his quiet confidence fascinating. As you grew closer, you saw the fiery competitiveness that fueled his ambition. When he told you he was transferring to Louisiana State with a real chance at being QB1, you knew it was a risk well worth taking. His meteoric rise to not only a National Championship but the Heisman and the first overall pick in the NFL Draft only proved the belief you had in him from the beginning. You weren't supposed to be here together, with Joe the face of an NFL franchise. But here you were, navigating the tumultuous waters of professional sports and superfame.

But tonight, as the hot water streamed over your bodies, the reality of your situation crashed down on Joe like a heavy wave. "I'm just tired of being the scapegoat," he whispered against your neck, his breath hot and urgent. "They expect me to be perfect, and when I'm not, it's all on me." Your heart broke a little more with each word, knowing he was right but hating that he felt that way.

"You're not a scapegoat, Joe," you said, turning in his arms to face him. "You're the best thing that's happened to this team in years." The sincerity in your eyes was unmistakable. "They just need to realize that you and Ja'Marr aren't enough to win games by yourselves."

Joe's expression softened, his eyes searching yours. "I know," he said, his voice barely a murmur. "But it's hard not to feel like it sometimes." You nodded, understanding his pain. "Let's not talk about the game anymore," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "You need to relax."

He pulled you closer, his hands moving over your body with a new urgency, the tension in his muscles giving way to a different kind of need. You could feel his desire, his desperation to connect with you, to lose himself in something that wasn't football. You kissed him back, your own needs rising to the surface.

The loofah fell to the shower floor, forgotten, as your hands found each other's bodies, exploring and reassuring. The steam grew thicker, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of heat and wetness, the outside world fading away. You kissed with a passion that was both fiery and tender, your bodies moving in a silent dance of apology and understanding.

You felt Joe's hands move to your hips, pulling you closer, his arousal unmistakable against you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your own desire matching his, as you found solace in the intimacy of your shared space. The water washed away the tension of the game, your movements becoming more urgent, more primal.

"Take your frustrations out on me," you murmured against his ear, your breath hot and needy. Joe's response was to push you against the cool tiles, his hands roaming over your wet body, exploring every curve and crevice. He kissed you with a hunger that spoke volumes of his need for release.

Without hesitation, Joe's hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your hardened nipples. You gasped, your eyes closing as sensations of pleasure shot through your body. His mouth moved from your neck to your chest, kissing and sucking, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. Your own hands were busy, sliding down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin, your nails digging in slightly as you urged him closer.

Your kisses grew deeper, more demanding, as the water continued to beat down on you. Your legs tightened around Joe's waist, pulling him closer, feeling his erection pressing against you. The sound of your bodies colliding against the tiles filled the small space, echoing off the walls. You were lost in each other, the pain of the loss momentarily forgotten.

Joe's hand slid down your body, finding the apex of your thighs. He teased you gently at first, his thumb brushing through your slick folds as you moaned into his mouth. Your hips rolled into his touch, seeking more. He groaned, his own desire spiking at your responsiveness.

With a swift move, Joe lifted you off the tiles, carrying you out of the shower, water still cascading off your bodies. He sat you on top of the bathroom counter, not caring about the wetness. His need for you was all-consuming, a fiery hunger that only you could satiate. You watched him with half-lidded eyes, your breaths coming in short pants as his hands slid over you, exploring every inch of your wet skin.

Your kisses grew more urgent as Joe's fingers delved into you, finding you already slick with desire. Your back arched, a keening cry escaping your lips as he touched you with a precision that spoke of a deep, intimate knowledge. His other hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You could feel his own need, his cock pressing in between your spread thighs, demanding entry.

"Fuck me," you breathed, your voice a low, urgent plea as Joe's touch brought you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the tension in his body, the anger and frustration that had been building all night, now redirected into a passion that was as intense as it was raw. He didn't respond verbally, instead choosing to show you with his actions that he heard you. He slid into you with a smoothness that contrasted his desperation, filling you completely.

You each sighed at the feeling of Joe stretching your pussy open, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you shared, a bond that transcended the game, the expectations, the disappointments. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs locking around his waist as he began to move inside you. Each stroke was a declaration of his need, a silent apology for his earlier outburst, and a promise to be there for you.

Your bodies moved in rhythm, the sound of your skin slapping together mixing with your muffled moans and gasps. Your breath hitched as Joe's cock hit just the right spot, sending waves of pleasure through your core. You rocked your hips against him, urging him deeper, faster, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers tugging at his dirty blonde hair. His gaze was intense as it held yours, the blue of his eyes almost black in the dim light, his pupils blown with desire.

Joe's mouth trailed kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making you shiver with excitement. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements, urging you closer to the edge. His own need was palpable, his breathing harsh and erratic as he thrust into you with a fervor that was both aggressive and tender.

"You're so wet," Joe growled, his voice thick with lust, as he pumped into you. You could feel his muscles tense with every thrust, the power behind each one a stark contrast to his gentle strokes from earlier. "So fucking wet for me."

Your nails dug into his back, urging him on. "Yes, Joey," you moaned. "Take it out on me." Your words were a catalyst, pushing him past his limits. He slammed into you, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the bathroom.

Your eyes never left each other as Joe's pace grew more frenzied, his strokes more demanding. Your head fell back, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock nudged at that soft muscle inside you that made your legs shake. Your walls tightened around him, a silent plea for more.

"You like that, don't you?" Joe grunted, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed as you moaned brokenly in response. His hand found the side of your face, tilting it to meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning into your soul.

"Fuck yes, I do," you managed to gasp, your voice breathless with need. The feeling of Joe's thick cock filling you up was heavenly, the friction causing a delicious burn. You felt his thumb pressing against the side of your throat, a gesture that usually sent you over the edge, but tonight, you were holding onto the precipice, needing the climax to wash away the sting of his earlier words.

"Oh, baby, yes," you panted, your breaths coming in quick gasps. "Right there." The sensation was almost too much, but you craved it, needed it, to drown out the noise from the evening's loss. Joe's eyes darkened with hunger, and he pushed harder, deeper, hitting your g-spot with unwavering precision.

"I'm so sorry for earlier," Joe murmured, his voice a raw, passionate whisper. "You mean everything to me." His movements grew more deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked to bring you to climax. You felt the walls of your pussy clench around him, your orgasm building with every stroke.

"You're always so good to me," you breathed, your voice a sweet symphony of pleasure. "Don't ever doubt that."

Your words hit Joe like a sucker punch to the gut, the weight of his emotions suddenly too much to bear. He kissed you again, a deep, desperate kiss that conveyed every ounce of his love and regret. His thrusts grew erratic, his body trembling with the effort to hold back his release. Your eyes widened with understanding, and you leaned in, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as you matched his rhythm, your body moving in perfect sync with his.

"I'll spend every second of the rest of my life making it up to you," Joe said between ragged breaths, his eyes searching yours for forgiveness. You knew he meant it, that his love was as unshakable as the determination that made him the star quarterback he was.

Your own climax was building, the pressure in your core growing with every thrust. You could feel Joe's cock swell even more, his grip on your hips tightening. The world outside your bubble of passion didn't matter anymore. Only this moment, your connection, your love, and the release that was so close.

"I forgive you," you whispered, your eyes brimming with emotion as you felt the beginnings of your climax. You squeezed your eyes shut, your body tightening around Joe's cock, your pussy fluttering with each stroke. "Can't help it when you make me feel so good," you added with a small, breathless laugh.

The sound of Joe's harsh breathing filled your ears as he drove into you, his movements becoming more frantic. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to come, to let go of the anger and the pain. You tightened your legs around him, your heels digging into his firm ass as you urged him on with your moans. Your bare chests pressed against each other, gasping desperately into each other's open mouths as your inaccurate, sloppy kisses grew more feverish.

"I need you to come, baby," Joe groaned into your ear, his voice desperate. "Need to make it up to you." 

You felt the tension coiling in her belly, the heat of Joe's breath on your skin setting your nerves alight. You knew he was close, could feel his cock pulsing inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, Joe's grip on your hips tightened, and he came with a roar, filling you with his hot, thick release.

Joe's movements slowed, his cock still pulsing inside you, his breathing ragged as he kissed along your neck. You giggled softly, the tension of the evening finally beginning to dissipate. "I've got you," you murmured, stroking his hair gently as he caught his breath. "You don't have to make it up to me."

With a final, lingering kiss, Joe pulled out of you, the connection breaking with a slick pop. He stepped back, his gaze lingering on your brown skin and the way your chest heaved with every breath you took. "But I want to," he said, his voice still thick with passion. "I need to."

You nodded softly as your hands reached up to cup Joe's face, your thumbs tracing the lines of his cheekbones. "I know you do, baby," you said gently. You leaned in to kiss him, your love washing over him with a gentle warmth that seemed to seep into his bones. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as your kiss grew more intense, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tangling with yours.

"Gonna eat you out until you can't think straight," Joe said, his voice gruff with lust as he lifted you off the counter, setting you feet down gently onto the plush bath mat then turning you to face the mirror on top of the counter. He dropped to his knees before you, his eyes tracing over your smooth skin as he kissed your spine, your thighs. You felt your legs wobble slightly, but you remained standing, your hands planted firmly on the counter for balance.

Joe's tongue traced a line up your inner thigh, the sensation causing you to quiver with anticipation. His hand found your ass cheek first, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving to the back of her thigh, urging your legs apart. Your breath hitched as his warm breath danced over your folds, the anticipation of his touch almost too much to handle.

"We taste so good together, baby," Joe murmured, his tongue darting out to tease your clit. Your head fell back, a soft moan escaping your lips as he began to feast on you. His tongue flicked and circled, his mouth suckling you in a way that sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You could feel yourself getting wetter, your juices mixing in with his cum still leaking from your aroused pussy.

The feeling of Joe's mouth on you was almost too much, the intimacy of the moment washing away the last remnants of the day's anger and frustration. Your legs began to shake, your breaths coming in short gasps as Joe's mouth worked its magic. You watched the movement of his head in the mirror, his eyes closed in concentration, his cheeks hollowing as he took you in.

Joe's tongue slid into you, the sensation so intense you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. Your nails dug into the countertop, the pain grounding you as you felt your orgasm building again. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you forget everything except the heat between the two of you. Your  hips began to rock against his mouth, your body begging for release.

"Yes," you moaned, your voice echoing off the bathroom walls. "Just like that, Joey." 

Joe's eyes snapped open, looking up at you through the wet strands of his hair, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched you unravel. His tongue delved deeper, exploring your warmth, savoring your taste.

"I'm gonna make you come so hard," Joe whispered against you, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. You felt his tongue swirl around your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his mouth closed around it, sucking hard. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat, the sound echoing off the walls of the bathroom as you shuddered with pleasure.

"Shit—I'm gonna come," you whimpered, your knees buckling slightly as Joe's mouth worked its magic. He held you steady, his simultaneously pushing you firmly against the counter and keeping your ass spread wide for him, his mouth unrelenting. You felt your climax build, a crescendo of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.

"Keep doing that," you panted, your body quivering as Joe's skilled tongue danced against your clit. You leaned heavily on the counter, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the orgasm build, the tension in your thighs and stomach tightening. Joe's grip on your legs was firm, his mouth relentless as he brought you closer to the edge.

Joe whispered against you again, "Love eating this perfect pussy, love making you come," and your eyes rolled back in your head, the sensation of his mouth on your clit overwhelming. The pressure grew unbearable, your legs trembling as you held onto the counter for dear life.

"Yes," you hissed through clenched teeth, your hips jerking in response to Joe's skilled movements. The pressure built higher and higher until you couldn’t take it anymore. With a strangled cry, you came, your body convulsing in the throes of ecstasy. Joe didn't stop, continuing to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you were left panting and boneless against the counter.

He licked you through your orgasm, savoring the taste of your mixed pleasures as you trembled under his touch. Your legs gave out, and Joe supported your weight from his spot on the floor, his face still buried between your thighs. You leaned into him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your climax. With a final, lingering kiss to your sensitive clit, Joe stood up, his eyes locking with yours in the mirror. You felt the heat of embarrassment under his gaze, your heart racing from the intensity of yiur lovemaking. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice hoarse from your moans.

"Don't thank me," Joe said, his own voice thick with emotion. You laughed softly as his tongue darted out in an attempt to capture one last taste of you. "Let me help you clean up," you offered, turning in his arms. Your thumbs wiped the corners of his mouth, smearing a bit of your juices onto his cheeks. He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before letting it go.

The two of you stepped back into the shower, the warm water cascading over your bodies, washing away the evidence of your passion. You took the loofah from the shower caddy, lathering it with Joe's favorite scented body wash—yours. You began to run it over his chest, your touch gentle as you worked your way down his body. His muscles relaxed under your ministrations, the tension of the evening dissipating with each stroke.

Joe's eyes remained on you, watching your movements with a quiet contentment that you hadn't seen in several long weeks. "You okay?" you asked softly, your voice echoing in the shower.

"Better," Joe murmured, his gaze dropping to your breasts, the water cascading over you, mixing with the soap. "Much better." He stepped closer, pressing you against the cold tiles, his hands taking the loofah from you. As the last of the soap fell from your bodies, Joe placed the loofah back in its caddy, his arms wrapping around your waist as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. You felt your toes curl into the mat, your body responding to him without hesitation.

Your heated kisses waned off into slow pecks and gentle nibbles as the warm water rinsed the soap away. Joe's hands trailed down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a tenderness that made your heart swell with affection. He whispered sweet words into your ear, his breath tickling your neck, and you felt a smile bloom on your lips as you leaned into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

"Mmm," you murmured, your eyes half-lidded with contentment as Joe's hands roamed your body. He took his time, savoring your curves, his thumbs grazing the sides of your breasts and sending shivers down your spine. Your own hands slid over his shoulders, feeling the strength and power beneath your fingertips, a physical reminder of the man you loved. There was no heat to your movements, no rush of sexual longing. Instead, it was a gentle exploration, a silent reassurance that you two were okay.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that sent warmth pooling in your belly.

You chuckled, leaning your head against his chest. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true," Joe said, his voice firm. He kissed the top of your head, holding you close. You stood like that for a moment, the water falling over you. The anger and frustration of the evening had morphed into a gentle affection that filled the small space, dispelling any lingering tension.

The two of you finished showering, toweling off and wrapping yourselves in the plush robes that hung on the back of the door. As you brushed your teeth and ran through your individual night routines, Joe couldn't help but watch you move in the mirror. Your eyes sparkled with a softness that seemed to warm the room, and the way you moved, even in something as mundane as brushing your teeth, was mesmerizing.

Once you were both ready for bed, you crawled in, Joe pulling you into his arms. You lay there for a while, your legs entwined, just holding each other and listening to the steady beat of each other's hearts. The silence was comfortable, a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of emotions. You felt Joe's hand run down your side, his thumb tracing the curve of your waist before resting on your hip. You knew he was still thinking about the game, about his performance, but you didn't push. Instead, you offered your warmth.

"You know you played your best," you said after a few moments, your voice soothing as you stroked his chest. "It's just one game, Joe. You'll keep working, keep getting better."

Joe sighed, his blue eyes closed in an attempt to reach sleep. "I know," he said, his voice tight with exhaustion. "But I hate letting down the team, the fans, you."

You turned to face him, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "You didn't let anyone down," you said firmly. "Sometimes, things just don't go as planned. It's not your fault."

Joe nodded, his eyes searching yours, looking for the reassurance he desperately needed. "Thanks, baby," he murmured, his voice soft with emotion. "I love you."

You leaned in and kissed him gently, your lips a gentle balm to his bruised ego. "You know I love you, too," you said, your voice a gentle whisper. "And I'm in this for the long haul. Win or lose, I'll be here for pity fucks and cuddles. Whatever you need."

Joe couldn't help but chuckle, the tension in the room dissipating like mist in the sun. "Pity fucks, huh?" He teased, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds kind of sad," you smirked, poking him lightly in the ribs. Joe's chuckle grew into a full-blown laugh, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. The sound was music to your ears, a melody of relief after the storm of emotions.

"Go to sleep, Joey. Tomorrow's a new day, and you're going to need your rest," you said, your voice soothing as you stroked his chest. Joe nodded, his eyes already drooping with exhaustion. The two of you lay there, your bodies entangled, until sleep claimed you both.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ‘𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏!

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wondered what boothill has that lasso for . . ♡

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — ftm!reader. mean dom!boothill. crossdressing. bondage. fingering. (reluctant) praising. dumbification. squirting.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : boothill brainrot has me going hogwild for him hmmphmmammm. my last post abt him has been popping off lately, i hear your cries boothill nation and i'm here to serve! enjoy ~♡

“quit whinin’ boy, will ya?” 

he rasped, swallowing another bullet. the taste of lead spread in his mouth, crunching noises from the ground up ammo made you flinch a bit. 

your wispy gown was bunched up to your thighs, held in place with the rope he uses as a lasso outside of the bedroom. every curve was shown in it’s full glory, soft flesh suffocated from the harsh material. you sat on your knees with your wrists tied tightly behind your back, rendering you helpless as you couldn’t even close your legs. you could only watch helplessly as the ranger pumped his metal fingers in and out of your soaked cunny. his cold palm pressed up against your clit, overwhelming you with an electrifying friction no other man could give you. 

“mm..b-boothi–” 

smack!

you flinched as your thighs instinctively tried to press themselves shut, much to the amusement of your robotic boyfriend. a shit eating grin spread across his lips, flashing his shark-like teeth. 

“what did i say baby..? too cute to understand now?” 

the bullet between his teeth moved up and down, his speech slightly glitched at the very term ‘cute’. if only he could spit out what he really ment, but then again, his sarcastic tone dripping with faux sympathy spoke volumes. boothill was a sweetheart at his metal core, but if you asked so nicely, he might flick his own switch just to see you fall apart at his touch. you were too adorable to turn down. 

you shook your head, syrupy eyes stared back into his bloodshot ones. a silent beg for release, added on by your impatient grinding. two teasing fingers were no longer enough for you, no, you needed him to do his absolute worst. fucking you while bound like the good little minx you were for the hunk of steel. to hear his annoyed tone forced to say sweet nothing while his body said otherwise. maybe, he might get the gun involved. none of it mattered. 

through mindless babbles and high pitched whines, you pleaded for more. the ranger’s eyes flicked up towards your fucked out face as he swallowed the last bullet. you were pulled forwards by the rope, forced to face boothill’s mean grin. 

“use your words doll.” 

you tried, you really did, but whatever you wanted couldn’t come out right. almost like you short circuited, spitting out all of your desires. from him fingerblasting you ‘till you soaked his whole forearm to being stuffed to the brim by his synthetic cock, his ridiculous girth stretching your cunny till you cry. as you begged, his fingers quicked until the noises were too loud to even hear him praise you in your ear. you cracked your eyes open and almost orgasmed at what was being done to you. three fingers pumping themselves in and out of you, with boothill using the strength from his forearm to dig himself deeper until he touched your cervix. your thighs shook violently, shifting the rope to reveal the marks it’s already left on your soft flesh. you were close, and he could tell so easily. the way you clenched around his fingers to how quickly your moans subsided into lewd silence was made so stupidly obvious. 

“nasty one aren’t ya? y’gonna cum already?” 

he chuckled, nipping your earlobe as the final knots in your stomach finally snapped. tugging onto his leather vest, you came and came hard. your vision blurred and your legs went numb while you sobbed out in both shock and pleasure. boothill drank up the view in front of him, his pretty baby fucked out and dumber then a lost trotter. your once flawless sundress now ruined at the bottom with the top slipping off of your shoulders. of course, the rope that’s definitely gonna leave some lasting marks, which is exactly what he wanted. 

after all, you’ll come running back with it in hand the moment they fade. ♡

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[heavenbarnes]

Do not go gentle

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: illusions to reader suffering "some" attack earlier, nightmares, reader and hotch are goofy idiots, inappropriate boss/employee relationship, unprotected pinv sex, dirty talk, pulling out, splash the back, mentions of m!masturbation, swearing, blasphemy, hotch has a size kink if you squint.

Word Count: 4.7k

Can you believe it? I've finally posted Hotch smut? I recently picked CM back up again and turns out he's still irresistible. Enjoy this, I did.

You'd only been back a week, after having two off, and Hotch already wanted to see you in his office.

This normally wasn't a cause for concern, usually you actually liked seeing Hotch in his office. Usually because it was for praise, he'd remark good work you'd done or feed you back something good he'd heard about you from another department.

It was also in that low, calm voice and he'd always have a hint of a smile working it's way to the surface.

But this time it'd be different.

You'd been off for two weeks and everyone was worried it wasn't enough. You'd been, quite literally, through hell and back and nobody wanted to push you too hard to get back into the field.

But you'd reassured Strauss, reassured everyone, that this was the best thing for you. You'd been going stir crazy on your couch in your little apartment, watching everything the TV had on offer.

You needed to get back into things, you needed to get back to helping people.

So you made the slow ascent up to Hotch's office and quietly knocked on the door, feeling it slowly swing open against your hand. He looked up from his desk, eyes connecting with yours and his brow raising slightly.

"You wanted to see me, sir?

He waved you in with his hand, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk. You took a seat, doing your best to relax back into things and not let him know how nervous this had made you.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

You smiled, only gently with your gaze picking out flaws in the carpet of Hotch’s office. Nodding slightly, you lifted your head to lock eyes with him.

“Good, actually,” That was honest but you could tell he was a little hesitant to accept it. “I’m glad to be back with everyone and making some difference.”

“And how are you sleeping?” Clear and level headed as ever.

You hesitated, it was only a second but there was no getting past him. You knew you had to be honest now.

“Not well, that's only when I finally get to sleep, and when I do I’m right back there again.”

Hotch’s expression was as hard to read as ever but you could see a hint of sympathy? Sadness? Concern?

“And are you seeing a therapist?”

“I am! She’s great, she says the best way through it is to keep living until I have enough good memories to replace those ones.”

You thought there may have been a hint of a smile on his face but it was gone as quick as you saw it.

“If there is anything I can do to help you, just ask- or call.”

You gave him a smile, an earnest one and you nodded as you spoke. “I will, thank you, Sir.”

That went better than you expected. He didn't want to recall you back to the office for desk work, he was just checking in. You found yourself back to feeling how you normally did when you left his office.

Not really wanting to go.

-

Your apartment was dead quiet, you couldn't even hear the usual hum of your fridge as you left the bathroom. Your home was darker than you were used to, the moonlight struggling to get through the windows.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you felt the unmistakable air of company. Something was telling you that you weren't alone in the darkness. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as your fingers reached for the light switch.

So close, you were so close when you suddenly felt a strong grasp wrap around your wrist-

Awakening with a scream, you felt your heart fight it's way out of your chest. Your neighbours would probably be leaving another not-so-passive note in your mailbox about this.

Sitting up on the couch, you found your lights still on and your TV still playing some mindless background noise. Another nightmare taking your sleep right from you when you needed it most.

Your cellphone lay on your coffee table in front of you, black screen staring back at you. Mulling it over in your head, you weighed up your options.

On one hand, he quite literally said to call if you needed him. But on the other, he probably just said it as a courtesy, something everyone says.

Either way, before you could really talk yourself out of it- you were dialing Hotch’s number and pressing your phone to your ear.

Zoning out a little at the dial tone, you were quickly snapped back by the sound of his voicemail service, a robotic voice asking you to leave him a message.

It all happened too quickly, your lips were firing off before you could stop yourself.

“Ah- oh God- uh sorry, I’m sorry this is- oh it’s actually me by the way. I’m sorry I called it’s just- I uh had a nightmare. That sounds really lame now that I’m saying this and I really shouldn’t have called- uh I realise now you didn’t pick up because you’ve got a life or you're sleeping- but I'm not and I uh- shit-sorry- Sir, this might be a record for the world’s most pathetic voicemail so maybe take this to a museum- or to a lab to have me tested because what the hell is this- anyway- shit- sorry again and enjoy your night- see you at work tomorrow morning, please- uh please don’t mention this or I will have to go into hiding. Anyways- good night- sorry.”

Hanging up after the message, you threw your phone at the couch and watched it bounce off the cushions and onto the rug. Stuffing your palms into your eyes you let out a pained groan.

“Please throw your phone into the ocean!” You begged, getting up from the couch. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You had almost forgotten the cringiest voicemail known to man. With how focused you were on perfecting this terrible boxed mac and cheese, your mind was nearly elsewhere.

Just as you’d managed to find a bit of peace, a knock at your front door made you jump out of your skin. Doing your best to calm yourself down, you brought your bowl of macaroni with you to the front door to investigate.

One eye to the peep hole, the minute you saw the person on the other side- your heart dropped. Slowly twisting the lock, you pulled the door back to reveal one Aaron Hotchner.

A very cozy looking Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir-“

“I got your message, you had another nightmare?”

Your words got trapped up in your throat before you could get them out. “Uh yeah.”

“What about? Are you okay”

Clearing your throat, you did your best to focus your gaze on him, remind yourself that you were here- safe in your apartment and not back there.

“Same old, I’m alone in the dark and then suddenly- he’s there.”

There was that expression on Hotch’s face again, this time you were sure it was concern, genuine concern. It was unmistakable.

“I’m sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Just as you were about to brush it off, pretend like it wasn’t driving you crazy, you could see a faint smile appearing as he kept speaking.

“I couldn’t find a museum that'd accept your voicemail but I did find a 24 hour convenience store with ice cream.”

He lifted the bag in his right hand and you could faintly see the tub through the plastic. “Is that cookies? That’s my-“

“Your favourite, yeah it is- do you mind sharing?”

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks as you nodded, quickly realising you’d been having this whole conversation in the hallway.

“Oh yeah, come in- get out of my hallway would you?”

Hotch laughed, quietly, but he still laughed as he walked in. He went straight to the kitchen as you hovered by the couch.

“I can even share my gross looking boxed mac and cheese if you ask nicely.”

That got the rest of the laugh out of him, smiling over his shoulder as he made himself at home in your kitchen. Trying to give yourself something to do, you picked up the TV remote.

“Sorry, the TV’s just been on as background noise but we could watch a movie- only if you want- I don’t even know how long you-“

Thankfully, Hotch cut you off again. “I’d love to watch a movie, as long as it isn’t a cartoon, with dinosaurs or superheroes.”

As he rounded the couch and passed you a bowl of ice cream, you looked up at him with an incredulous expression on your face.

“I literally just rented ‘cartoon dinosaur superheroes’, what the hell?"

Your face broke out in a grin before you could even finish your dumb joke and it had an instant effect on Hotch.

“Yeah well, I preferred the TV series- it went into much more detail.”

Spoon in your mouth, you shot a look at your usually-very-serious boss. You weren’t used to seeing this many smiles- let alone hearing this many jokes from the man.

“Which one was your favourite? The green one?” You pushed the corny little joke a little further.

He glanced back in your direction as he lifted his own spoon to his lips. “I liked the one that put out fires.”

Immediately a grin broke out across your face as you couldn't contain your giggles. You quieted down to a hum as you nodded at his quip. “There totally would be one that put out fires.”

Leaning back into your couch, you picked up your feet to lean them on your coffee table.

“You can put your feet up by the way, I don’t mind.”

As quickly as you said it, Hotch was reaching out a long arm to wave at your legs. “I do, get your feet off the table.”

Looking at him in (slight) faux-shock, you shook your head as he did his best to fight off an impending chuckle.

“Excuse me? This is my house!”

Hotch’s smile only grew. “Hardly a house, it’s a living room with a bed in the back of it.”

Stunned expression painted across your face, a series of unintelligible noises fell past your lips as it was your turn to try not to laugh.

“Alright then, next time I have a trauma induced nightmare then I’ll be coming to your house.”

“Perfect, I’ll have the boxed macaroni cheese and dinosaurs.”

“Great, and I’ll pick apart every stylistic choice you’ve ever made in.”

Hotch finished off another spoonful of ice cream as he shrugged. “I think you’ll find I’m a very skilled interior decorator.”

You cocked your head towards him, eyes narrowed as you played on the bit. “Suuuurely not?”

“I am, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Eyes wide in excitement as he said the words, you couldn’t believe Aaron Hotchner was a certified funny-guy. Your stoic boss, your always knowing what to say, what to do, boss. You quickly reached for the TV remote off the table as the next thought struck you.

“That’s the one, I wonder if they're streaming Airplane!”

It wasn’t like you even lasted the first 20 minutes before you fell asleep. You felt so warm, so cozy, so at peace that you hadn’t even realised you were drifting off until you did.

Hotch didn’t mind either, just happy to see you finally sleeping. His right arm stayed firmly around your side as your cheek and hand laid against his chest, snoring only quietly.

He smiled from above you, tilting his neck just enough to gently rest his chin against the top of your head.

That night you dreamed, for the first time in weeks. You were in your apartment, but the lights were shining and the moon had cast a glow over the room. You could tell you weren’t alone, you felt the company, but you couldn't find it to be scared.

Somebody else was in your apartment and he remembered your favourite ice cream.

-

As you rushed through the door of the conference room, all eyes switched from the round table fell on you. Within an instant, heat was rising up your cheeks.

“Nice of you to join us.” Morgan teased as you slipped into a seat next to Spencer.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, scrambling to grab some of the files in front of you. “Slept in.”

A simple sentence quieted everyone back down as expressions softened across all of them.

“Slept?” JJ asked quietly, full attention on you. “You’re sleeping again?”

A smile cracked at the corner of your lips, nodding gently as you tried to keep your head down. “Yeah, first time in weeks last night.”

Everyone let you off the hook after that, it was all back to work and start filing the reports from the last case. As you all shuffled out to head back to your desks, you heard a voice behind you call your name.

Leaving just you and Hotch in the room, you felt that same heat creep right back up your neck. You stepped over towards him, only bringing yourself to meet his eyes once you were right in front of him.

“Sir, listen, about last night-“

“I’m sorry,” He stopped your babbling before you could even start. “I was out of line.”

Not what you were expecting. This morning had been hazy, Hotch slipping out with a sore neck from sleeping upright. You not even waking as he left.

But this was still-

“I shouldn’t have let myself get as close as I did,” He continued, his tone back to as professional as always. “It won’t happen again.”

“It won’t?”

Hotch couldn’t bare the look on your face. Eyes dropping in confusion and bottom lip daring to wobble. He had to steel himself, he had to walk out of that room before he did something that'd cost his career.

-

He'd completely closed down any chance for the two of you. You'd sort-of-kind-of resigned yourself to the fact it was never going to happen, but having it come crashing down right in front of you hurt more than you'd expected.

You didn't realise that you'd designated a space to him in the centre of your chest until you felt it break. Thinking back on it now, it will completely foolish to think your boss would ever dare to pursue anything with you.

But there was last night.

You'd woken briefly, just the once, and you'd felt his arm around your waist. You'd heard the beat of his heart just under your ear. You could've sworn you'd felt him press his lips against the top of your head.

That was all said and done now. If you'd known it was your only chance, you probably would've held onto it for just a little longer. You thought a hot shower after a long day would help to dissipate your feelings, but you still felt it weighing heavy on your mind.

Shuffling to the kitchen, you decided there was no other choice but to get on with things. What'd your therapist said? Keep moving forward until you have more good memories to replace the other ones?

Besides, you'd gotten on just fine before, without him. There was no reason for this to change anything.

Even after you knew how it felt to fall asleep beside him.

Swinging open the box freezer, you scanned the shelf for something to eat before your eyes fell on the scene of the crime. Last night's ice cream stared back at you with cruel intent.

You decided you'd make a spectacle of it, retrieving it from the freezer to stab a spoon right through the middle of it. The first mouthful stung, the rest was just...ice cream.

Dragging your feet towards the couch, you were nearly close enough to collapse into comfort when a knock at the door sent a fright through you that you'd never get used to. Cautiously, you pressed your eye back to the peep hole and screwed up your face in confusion.

"Sir?" You asked as the door swung open, finding Hotch back in that same place on your doorstep.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "You really don't have to be. Like you said, it shouldn't have happened."

You'd been hesitant to look him in the eye as you spoke, roaming the spotted ceiling of your apartment hall instead. But as you shifted to catch his eyes, you found him- preocupied.

Hotch's eyes trailed further down, serious expression fixed to his features as his eyes moved to your legs. Only when you went to follow his gaze did you realise.

You'd answered the door fresh out the shower. Skin still a little damp, only in a t-shirt and a thin pair of panties.

You were standing in front of your boss in next to nothing.

And he looked like he wanted to eat you whole (he did).

He managed to clear his throat, to tear his eyes off your body and back to your face. Mustering up the courage, tensing his fists and relaxing his shoulders, he began speaking before he could think.

"I am sorry and I need to say it. I overstepped a boundary here and I put my own feelings for you over everything else and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable-"

"Hotch-"

"I thought I was fine with keeping this in my head and I never wanted to-"

"Hotch-"

"But I just need to tell you that this wont change anything with-"

"Sir."

Finally, your interjection managed to cut through and he stopped himself. "Hotch, you've never asked me what I actually want."

His features softened a tiny amount, his fists unfurling as he willed himself to relax the rest of himself. "What do you want?"

Taking a long stride towards him, you found yourself nearly chest to chest with the man. Your hand gently ran his tie through your fingers, twisting a little to grasp it for leverage.

"You."

Hotch sucked in a deep breath, his head tilted towards you but his eyes closed. "Please don't say that."

You looked up at him from under your lashes, finding him slowly opening his eyes to watch you move even closer to him.

"Got no reason to lie to you, sir."

You heard his breath catch in his throat as Hotch moved his hands, until they were just and only resting on your hips. You felt the heat radiating off his large palms, closing in until they spanned across your lower back.

"I really shouldn't do this." His voice was a hush, he was still trying to talk himself out.

Not like you were going to let him.

"Then let me."

Closing the space between the two you, your lips pressed against the hard line of his until he opened up for you. You lead things just long enough for him to get comfortable, falling into motion and his tongue pushing forward into your mouth.

His hands tightened, gripping onto your waist like he might lose you if he let you go. Walking you back into your apartment, he blindly kicked his leg back to shut the door. Surging forward, he had the backs of your thighs against the arm of the couch.

Pulling back to take a look at you, his eyes moved to you swollen lips. His thumb came up to brush against your lower lip, gently gripping it between his fingers.

"Pretty, pretty girl," He sighed, you could feel his thigh slotting between your legs. "Such a good girl."

You couldn't stop it, the heady little moan that fell from your mouth at his words. Mixed with the soft feeling of his suit pants pressing to your core, undoubtedly you were leaving some kind of mess on the expensive trousers.

Hotch flexed his thigh, enjoying the feeling of you grinding yourself against his leg like a desperate slut. He watched as you tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him.

Ducking his head, he pressed his lips in a line down your neck and biting gently at the join of your shoulder. "Get up on the couch."

His voice was a rumble in his chest, but there was a command in there that had you moving without being told twice. You went to sit down on it, but Hotch caught you and spun you slightly till you were falling onto the cushions on your knees.

Arms slung over the back of the couch and ass pointed out, you looked back over your shoulders with hazy eyes. Hotch slipped his suit jacket off, throwing it across a chair as he started to roll up his sleeves.

It was so simple, such an easy move but it had an effect on you like nothing else. His strong arms came into view and the veins on his hands flexed as he rolled the fabric. You could feel the damp spot growing on your panties.

This was a different Hotch than the one that stayed over the other night. This was closer to the one that sat behind his desk, stoic and unshakeable. Part of you knew the desperation that was hiding behind the stern look on his face.

You two really had one shot at this. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to enjoy this, it'd never happen again.

Snapping you from your thoughts, you felt two long fingers run up the length of your cunt. Even through the thin fabric of your underwear, you could feel his rough grasp as he gently began to rub at your clit.

Your head lolled forward, a gasp sounding from your chest as you backed your hips towards his touch. As he slid your panties to the side, fingers now running right through your wetness, you could hear the sound of him drawing down his fly.

"I've tried so hard- from the moment I met you-" The words fell from his lips, his knee coming up on the couch to get closer. "I've thought about this moment every night."

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, feeling his firm chest press to your back as his words spurred you on. You could picture it in your mind, your boss in the shower, alone in his bed- his hand fisting at his cock as he thought of you.

Pretty you, sweet and kind you. Always the first to do what he says, to look at him with those glassy eyes and say "yes, sir." To him, this was inevitable.

It was only ever a matter of time.

Swiping up the slick from between your legs, you looked back quickly to see him running it across the head of his cock. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing the size of him as he dragged his hand down the length of it.

"Fuck- that's big."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud. Hotch chuckled as your words, his brows raising slightly as he did.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," He cooed, lining himself up with your entrance. "We'll make it fit."

Your eyes squeezed shut and a drawn out, frankly pornographic, moan fell out. Hotch groaned deep in his chest as he sunk into you, feeling the tight grip of your soaking cunt.

Feeling the press of his lips on your shoulder blade, he made it in fully before he stilled. He was giving you a moment, letting you catch your breath despite the ever-present need to absolutely wreck you.

Reaching back, you franticly tapped at his hip. Quiet pleas of "move, please move" filling the space around you. He was kind, he gave you exactly what you needed as he began to roll his hips into yours.

One of his hands firmly held your hip, the other ran underneath your t-shirt so he could grip at your chest. He cupped one of your breasts, rolling it round in his large palm as he groaned into the crook of your neck.

"God- you feel so good, sweetheart."

You whimpered for him, a pathetic whine sounding from you as you bucked your hips back against him. The hand on your hip began to slip forward, fingers coming around to rub against your clit.

From the speed in which he was fucking into you, the frantic movements of his fingers, the clip of his breath- he was trying hard to hold on. He was doing whatever he could to keep his cool but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

The prettiest girl he'd ever laid his eyes on, the subject of all his inappropriate desires was knelt in front of him. You were somehow tighter than he'd dreamed, somehow sounded sweeter than he'd imagined.

You were calling out his name, chants of "Aaron, fuck, Aaron-" that were no doubt slinking through the thin walls of this apartment and keeping the neighbours up.

He didn't care, he'd get you to tell the whole fucking city if he could. When you felt this good, when you looked this pretty for him? He'd throw his whole career to the fucking wind if it meant he got to do this whenever he wanted.

Maybe- maybe not that far. But Hotch wasn't really in the position to be thinking logically right now. Not when you were turning back over your shoulder to capture his lips, moaning straight down his throat as he continued to sink his hips into you.

"Fuck- you're so deep, sir."

Hotch could've come right then, there was no way he could keep it together when you were saying it like that. He knew good and well that this is why this was never meant to happen.

How was he meant to go back to work and deal with you calling him that, when he's heard just how good it could sound?

He sped up his fingers, messy circles rubbing at your clit as your whole body began to tense. He felt your back arching, pushing back into his chest as you cried out.

"God- I'm gonna'- Aaron- I'm gonna' cum-" Was all you could manage before you clenched around him.

Suddenly, your vice grip released and you were falling limp against the couch with a whimper. Hotch fucked you through it, feeling the shocks wracking your body as he drew out your orgasm as long as he could.

Hotch watched over you, seeing the blissed out expression on your face as you came for him. He looked down to see the way your cunt fluttered around him, a wet mess left on the shaft of his cock.

Taking mental note, he knew that he'd never be able to forget this. His one chance to have you like this, to hold you and feel you gripped around him. The sight of you took over him, his hips stuttering as he gripped hard on your hips.

You opened your eyes just in time to see his head tipped back, strong arms and chest straining against his dress shirt. Hotch's lips parted as a quiet moan of your name ripped from his chest.

Quickly, he slipped himself out as he stroked himself over your ass. Long fingers pulled your panties down around your thighs as hot ropes of cum painted your lower back and behind. Your eyes were growing hazier but you kept them open to watch as he did it.

You were slumped over the back of the couch, high dissipating through your body as you heard him tuck himself back into his trousers. You could hear him moving away, but soon he returned with a warm cloth against your back.

Slipping your panties back into place, he turned you around gently and settled you into his side. Right back where things had started, your sleepy body falling into him.

You both knew it, that this would be the last time. This would never go anywhere else. But there was part of you that'd become content with that, getting used to the strong beat of his heart beside your ear.

Feeling a strong hand brush against your face, this time you were sure of it. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head as you began to drift off asleep.

You knew he'd been gone again when you woke up, you'd both show up to work like all of this hadn't happened. But that was okay, you felt the sleep overtaking you- a feeling that you'd missed.

You slept absolutely soundly, for the second time in weeks.

[benkeibear]

『 Fearplay 』

☼ synopsis: You can run but you can't hide from your lover. You're nothing but a little bunny for his amusement until you're trapped and become his toy for pleasure as you shake like a little leaf

☼ character: Sukuna

☼ wc: 2.5k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, consensual noncon (safeword is mentioned but not used), fearplay, hunter and prey vibe, mean Sukuna, no prep, clit slapping/pinching, double penetration, anal, degradation and petnames, creampies, aftercare

☼ notes: so yeah... this is forever rotting my mind 🥹 || don't forget to sign up for the taglist in my pinned post!

The sound of your heartbeat thumping along with the soft steps of your bare feet across the tiles of this palace were the only things you could hear as you started running from your lover. Sukunas smirk was twisted with a sick fascination as your trembling legs carried you at such speed - but no matter how fast or far you run, he will always catch you. When he rose from his throne, you heard him chuckle, heavy steps following yours and you started breathing harder at the realization that he will get to you eventually. “I should give up, perhaps he won't go too rough if I surrender willingly,” you thought to yourself, but you shook the thought from your mind just as fast as it appeared. It was your idea after all, wanting to be chased and made to submit, yet you feared what he would do to you once he caught you.

With quick steps, you ran towards the library to hide away, feeling like hunted prey as you barricaded yourself in the smallest nook you found. Your heart was beating in a steady rhythm like a war drum and your breath eventually eavened out when minutes passed without hearing the thundering steps of the huge man. Sukunas steps were slow and calculated, knowing all your secret little hiding spots, so it was only a matter of time until he found you, or until his patience snapped and he took apart the entire palace so he could get to you.

The door creaked open slowly and you could see him enter the huge room with a small grin plastered on his face. “Come out, brat. I can hear you breathing,” he called out calmly, but there was a hint of danger in his voice. Unsure if he spoke the truth, you clasped your hands over your nose and mouth, willing yourself to hold your breath just to be sure, but his strong legs walked over to the direction you were hiding in. “Your heartbeat is giving you away, like a scared little rabbit.” His voice was mocking now as he simply lifted the table and threw it against a nearby shelf. The loud noise made you squeak and he crouched down to your eye level. “I found you,” Sukuna mused and his grin looked almost predatory when he held one hand out for you to take. “Come out and I promise I'll be gentle.” He cooed with fake sympathy, but you knew better than to trust him, so you quickly escaped your little hiding spot and ran past him.

His laugh echoed through the entire palace, mocking you as you took off running once again. The way he was so eerily calm scared you more than his usual blinding rage, but you saw a vein pop on his temple when you ran past him, knowing that you'd only aggravated him more and if he gets to you now, he will break you entirely - enjoying to watch you fall apart into a million pieces. Sukuna stepped out of the library and into the seemingly endless hallway where you were still running and it amused him. Taking a deep breath, he charged after you, only to rip away one of the carpets beneath your feet as you stepped on it, successfully tripping you. A small scream escaped your lips when the carpet was ripped away beneath your feet and your cheek was met with the cold tiles of the floor. Sukuna loomed over you with a wolfish grin, but just as he leaned over you, you kicked his face with all your strength, taking him off guard. “You fucking-” he cursed out and held his now bleeding nose while you scrambled to your feet, stumbling away as fast as you could towards the exit that led to the beautiful gardens. Your lover didn't even try to run after you, slow steps followed your hurried ones, but you didn't care, not when your escape was so close.

The moment you reached the door, you realized why he didn't run after you. While you were hiding in the library, Sukuna made sure the doors were locked or barricaded to block every single escape route. Frantically you kept throwing your body against the door, opening it inch by agonizing inch, but you felt his presence before it was enough to fit through. The shiver that ran down your spine left you freezing and unable to escape any further. “Are you done trying to run away?” His voice was eerily calm and it only served to scare you further. With pleading eyes, you looked up at the man in front of you, all four arms crossed, as he licked his lips upon watching you shiver. He looked like a solid mountain the way he towered over you and just anyone and you knew you had no chance to get past him, yet you tried.

His arm wrapped around you faster than you thought and he flung you over his shoulder ungracefully, as if you were a sack of potatoes and his laugh echoed through the halls along with each thundering step he took towards his quarters. “You're shivering like a fucking leaf,” he pointed out, amused as your shaking fists connected with his back in a desperate attempt to get out of his grasp. It was all part of the game, but his menacing aura did scare you. The uncertainty of what he's going to do with you, despite knowing a single word would put an end to this.

Without a care, you were tossed onto his obnoxiously large bed, where you bounced once or twice before scrambling away from him. “Don't touch me!” You spat at him and swatted one of his hands away from your face, which only made him chuckle. “And why do you think I care about your consent, little bunny?” He asked and dragged you towards him by yanking your ankle. You were now helplessly lying beneath the mountain of man and he mused at the way you hit and clawed at him. “Don't even think about kicking me. I'll break your legs and you can no longer use them at all,” he threatened and his words alone made you stop squirming, knowing he can snap your bones like they're little twigs. “Good girl,” he praised when you stopped fighting, the tongue on his abs licking over the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt was riding up and the feeling of the wet muscle against your skin made you shiver profoundly. “Please,” you begged with a weak voice, a single tear threatening to roll down your cheek, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. If you wanted him to stop, why were you getting so wet?

Sukunas teeth were showing when he growled at you, registering the way you were rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up in your poor little cunt, confused about what your body should be feeling. Your lover was scary, which you knew ever since you first laid eyes on him. He was ruthless, a brute, but he would never seriously hurt you, he wants and needs you too much… or would he? You weren't entirely sure anymore when he ripped your shirt apart without further warning. Your fear-filled squeal made him chuckle yet again. You reminded him of a little bunny and he was the big bad wolf that was about to take from you what he wanted.

Sharp claw-like nails were draped over your exposed chest and stomach before easily removing your pants and undergarments. “Such a pliant little bunny for me. Tell me, are you scared of me?” He mused and his face was dangerously close to yours and all you could do was nod. “Good,” he rasped out and licked over your cheek just to see you shudder once again. Your breath grew uneven when his lower pair of arms forced your thighs apart as his upper pair of arms were busy playing with your perked nipples, harshly tugging and twisting them to hear your sweet whimpers. As much as he scared you, your body was reacting nothing but positively to your lover, your folds glistening with arousal when he looked at your exposed cunt. “Look how wet you are from just a few touches… Lucky you,” he mused out, not planning on prepping you much before taking what's rightfully his.

One pair of hands pinned your writhing form to the bed as the other took care of his pants in a quick manner until both his cocks rested heavy against your core. “Please don't,” you begged with teary eyes, knowing exactly how much it would hurt despite your wetness, but his eyes locked with yours with a sinister glint. “What if I do?” He asked challengingly and rubbed one of his tips through your soaked folds, only pushing the tip in. Just the tip was enough to get you to jolt away. Fear was evident by the way a thin layer of sweat started to build on your forehead and Sukuna only waited for you to say the safe word as he repeatedly fucked his tip into you. You stayed silent however and Sukuna was done playing around. Slowly, he leaned down so his mouth was right next to your ear. “You want me to break you, hm? Fuck you until you're nothing more than a hole for my cock to fuck?” He asked teasingly and pushed his entire length in with just one thrust. The pain of a thousand needles penetrated your body and left you gasping for air, but Sukuna enjoyed the sight of your tear-stained cheeks growing wetter with each thrust. His second cock rested heavy on your mound, rubbing over your clit each time the other plunged into you and despite the pain of getting stretched open this fast, you couldn't help but mewl, your body betraying you once again. “You little pain slut,” Sukuna mused and flipped you around, not wanting to see the cock-drunk expression on your face when he would much rather listen to your sweet cries as he used your cunt like nothing but a mere pocket pussy.

While two hands held onto your hip so tight you were sure it would bruise up, one hand rested on the back of your head to make sure your screams and pleas remained muffled by the pillows. Your back was forming a beautiful arch with the way he held your hips up and his fourth hand came to play with your clit, never quite giving you what you crave. No matter how hard you tried to buck your hips or move them away from the small taps his palm was delivering, his iron grip on them wouldn't let you. “Try that again and I'll make sure it will hurt,” he threatened, his voice sounding strangled when your cunt only tightened at that. But your body acted on its own with the next slap to your little clit, flinching away while a cute whine escaped your lips, followed by a shrill shriek when two of his fingers pinched your clit delicately but enough to hurt. “I told you not to move, didn't I?” He warned you and rubbed small circles onto your abused pearl to ease the pain, but your walls started to flutter around his cock. Sobs and cried out moans getting muffled by the pillow beneath you.

The hand that was holding your head down grabbed onto your hair to pull you up ever so slightly. “Your cunt is so tight… Think I can make both of them fit?” Sukuna asked and looked into your puffy eyes, but you shook your head frantically. You only managed to take both his cocks into your cunt twice and both times required lots of prep and right now you were already struggling to accommodate one of his cocks inside of you. Despite the shaking of your head, the man above you didn't care. He wanted to feel you wrapped around both of his heavy cocks and he would make them fit, one way or another. Wrecked cries echoed through the bedroom as he repeatedly tried - and failed - to push his second tip into your tight cunt. Only when he let go of your hips for a moment you tried crawling away from him, not wanting him to try again, but your little attempt at escape only amused him.

Swiftly, you were pulled back onto his length, which made you feel impaled and incredibly full, but Sukuna frowned angry at you. “Where do you think you're going, little bunny?” He asked and his big hands spread your ass for him. “I think I can try another way for you to take both cocks,” he chuckled and spat onto your puckered hole, pleas and sobs falling from your lips once again. You were used to taking him like this, but the situation just made it seem so impossible for you until you felt him penetrate your ass too. Your legs started to shake violently from the feeling of being filled up in both holes as Sukuna wrapped his hands around your waist as he fucked into you. He was using your body as a mere tool for his pleasure, lifting you up and down both of his cocks and getting off to your mewls and whimpers of his name.

It only took one of his hands caressing your clit again, alternating between rubbing it and tapping it, until you came from the forceful penetration. Sukuna followed soon after you since you were milking him, walls clenching around him like a vice. “Fuck-” he groaned as his hot seed spilled deep inside of you and it felt like you were overflowing. A low growl escaped his throat when both of your orgasms slowly ceased and all that was left to be heard was heavy breathing along with the softest whimpers coming from you. With a small hiss, Sukuna pulled his cock out of your ass and watched his seed flow out for just a moment before turning you around, still impaled on his second length. Four strong arms wrapped around your body just to pull you close to his chest, a thin veil of sweat covering him, but you didn't care, your shaky arms holding onto him as little sobs wrecked through your body. “Shh, you're okay,” he gently cooed, holding you close until the emotions washed off again. It felt intense, the shift of the air and the man you just loathed and feared for using you like a toy was your beloved man again, searching for love and safety in his strong arms. Sukuna wasn't one to be soft, but for you, he tried, especially when all it took was as simple as holding you close to him. It was a form of possessiveness for him, which seemed oddly comforting to you, being his.

[dollyfetti]

౨ৎ❆ ₊˚♡⊹ i smell snow - katsmas day 1

❄️︵︵　summary: getting a whiff of snow one chilly night, you persuade your grumpy neighbor to join you to watch the first snowfall of the year 🍫︵︵　notes: gilmore girls au, bakugou x reader, fluff, the rest of these cw are for ppl who havent watched the show: reader is a young mom, this is mostly dialogue tbh but a huge part of the show is how quick and witty everyone is, 🎀︵︵　word count: 1.8k

you wave and call out to your friend across the block, "night, katsukiiii!" you've known bakugou as your grumpy but somehow caring neighbor since you moved to stars hollow so many years ago. he grunts in response, dismissively throwing his hand before pulling down his scarf and disappearing into his house.

the holidays in your merry little town always filled you with joy. seeing the beautiful red and green lights adorning every lamp post, the festive cookies being sold at iida's market, and the gorgeous nutcracker ballet that mina forced her dancers to perform each year. it all combined to make you feel high-spirited. christmas time's especially meaningful as you never had experienced a proper childhood with the excitement of opening presents or building gingerbread houses, so the cheery season rekindles that sense of wonder and excitement within you.

"awe, that is soo cute! while you two are making googly eyes at each other, i'll just freeze to death. no biggie, don't worry about me..!"

you spin around with a playful roll of your eyes. "huh, i wonder where you get this dramatic flair from," you stick out your tongue to your teenage daughter, rory, waving your hand around in her face before unlocking the front door.

you drop your keys into a dish shaped like betty boop’s head, your feet tripping over each other as you make your way to the kitchen. all you hope for in this very moment is just one more chocolate pop tart to coat your tastebuds with its sweet chocolatey-ness. you swing open the fridge, stomping your foot with a pouty frown and glare when you find it nearly empty.

"ughhh nooo!! my life is overrrr, we're out of pop tarts! why didn't you grab some at iida's roryyyyyy?" you whine annoyingly, dropping yourself into a chair and dramatically burying your face into your hands. rory giggles, patting your head with mock sympathy as she walks by.

she shrugs off her fuzzy red coat with a soft tsk, "you're right, i have noo idea where i get it from!" she exclaims, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

"and by the way," she snaps her fingers, catching your attention. she lifts a silver wrapped chocolate pop tart from the counter, wiggling her eyebrows like it was obviously there (cuz it was). you gasp, your jaw dropping cartoonishly. "b-but-" you start with furrowed eyebrows only to be cut off a second later.

"since when do we keep pop tarts in the fridge?" she hums, opening the wrapper and breaking off a piece of the treat before handing you the rest.

"this is all your fault!" you huff, nibbling into the chocolate as soon as it reached your hand. "keeping them in the fridge makes them nice and coldd.. what if i didn't want to toast it? huh? what if i just wanted a cool, chilled, crazy good pop tart?"

she shrugs, utterly unbothered. "okaay, princess, i sincerely apologize,"

the rest of the evening was a blur of corny reruns from a show you and rory had stumbled upon one particularly slow night. the two of you ended up asleep on the couch, wrapped in the cocoon of a large cozy blanket. then the quiet of the night was interrupted when you awoke suddenly, your senses sharpening.

your eyes widen a little as you sniff the air, the distinct scent of something magical wafting through the room. you gasp excitedly, turning to your daughter. you shake her arm, "rory! wake up!!" you whisper-yell.

the girl whines, keeping her heavy eyes shut as she sleepily groans, "whaaaat?"

"i smell it!" you chirp, spinning your head to the window. "i smell snoww!!!"

you get up and tumble to the window, dragging the fluffy blanket along with you followed by a squeak from rory at the sudden chill. you push aside your pink curtain, peering at the night sky. "i love snow..!" you squeal. "everything's magical when it snows, like the world's wearing a big fat sparkly dress!"

"when is it coming down?" rory yawns, shuffling over to you sleepily.

"in like a half hour.. i'm so excited!!" your eyes fixed on the dark sky.

rory whines again, her face scrunched as she let out another long yawn. "i’m tiredddd, m going back to sleep. take pictures." she huffs, waddling back to her bedroom.

you pout after her, still gazing out the window, your heart filled with anticipation.

you don't like watching the first snowfall of the year alone. you always do it with someone whether its a boyfriend or rory. you huff, folding your arms and thinking of what to do. it's then you remember katsuki-- even though he goes to sleep early, he'll still watch with you, right? he’d do this one simple thing for you-- he's always doing stuff much grander for your benefit anyway.

so you grab a post-it and scribble down a quick note to rory in case she wakes up, leaving it under her door. you pull on your babyish pink swan hat and coat before hurrying out the door and making your way to your neighbor's.

you knock once, twice, and almost a third time before the door opens. bakugou stands there, looking entirely too put-together for someone who’s clearly just woken up.

“what?” he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“we’re gonna miss it!--” you exclaim, your words practically bursting with urgency.

he grunts, "if yer talkin about sleep, then yah."

"nono, cmonnn!! we gotta goo, it's gonna snow!" you hop from foot to foot with barely contained excitement.

he scoffs with a deep frown, "fuck no, its fuckin freezin."

you pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "pleaseeee! for lil ol me? ill buy more coffee and- and- and you'll get soo rich!" you nod enthusiastically with a cheesy grin.

he rolls his eyes, grabbing his coat off the hook with a sigh. "no, ya don't need any more damn coffee in yer system. already give ya more than i should."

you squeal with delight, grabbing his arm and tugging him outside. “hooray! hurry, hurry!!”

he regrets this. the two of you have been standing outside for ten minutes for this stupid snow, and there's been nothing.

"the forecast didn't predict shit." katsuki huffs, his hot breath visible in the cold air.

you don't acknowledge him, too distracted by the anticipation. “i love flakes, flurries, swirls, crystals... me and snow, we have a beautiful history,” you muse, your voice full of fond nostalgia.

the blond lets out an exasperated sigh. “saw two fuckin forecasts, and neither of ‘em said anything about snow,” he growls, shivering as you still cling to his arm.

katsuki stares ahead blankly before doing a double take towards you. he scoffs with a light chuckle. "didya get yer hat from carter's?" he mocks your babyish pink swan hat, but you ignore him, tapping his arm insistently. "it's coming, i know it is.. i'm never ever wrong," your tone unwavering, he watches you gaze at the night sky, his eyes filled with a mixture disbelief and a little something else. he's shamefully endeared by your childlike wonder, even if it is annoying at times-- almost like dealing with a very persistent, stubborn child.

“it needs to come fasterrr...” you whine, blinking at the sky, willing the magical snow to appear.

“oh, geez, ya want it to come faster?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm-- until you realize he wasn't planning on hearing your witty response. without another word uttered, he leans in, his lips crashing against yours. no words, no warning, just a quiet, unspoken understanding that he’s been waiting for this moment.

he's the one who pulls back just a few seconds later, his face flushed from the cold december air and his flustered nerves. you don't say anything. you simply stare at the blond with eyes that long to hear him speak, say anything. you've never seen this side of bakugou with you before, and it makes you nervous.

meanwhile he's bracing himself for impact, thinking he probably just fucked up your eight year friendship.

"say somethin please.." he mutters, his voice low. you exhale sharply before grabbing his hand. you don't know what you're about to say, your mind’s a jumble of thoughts, emotions too tangled to make sense of just yet. you’re not sure what to make of this, or if you even want to. you know katsuki, and you know how much of a burden you can be. you can't explore something that you already know won't last. especially not with him.

and then, as if the universe is offering you a sign, the first snowflake falls—delicate and perfect, followed by another, and another. the sky’s doing its part, now it’s up to you.

still holding his hand, you feel your heart beat louder in your chest. "told you snow’s magical," you whisper, your gaze locked on his. but his eyes refuse to meet yours. they dart nervously around the ground beneath him. the tension radiating from him causes his hand to feel stiff in yours. snow begins to fall more steadily, and one delicate snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose, making him flinch in surprise. you can't help the soft giggle that escapes you.

"yknow for a guy who spends every day in his diner.. you're not a bad kisser," you can't help the wide grin that displays itself on your lips at his fidgety, awkward reaction. his hand tightens around yours. "shut up asshole," he grunts, meeting your eyes finally.

"you're not just gonna.. brush past what happened are you?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but there's a note of worry in your voice, hoping he didn't just kiss you to shut you up. you study him cautiously with a tilt of your head.

you giggle again when an offended expression flashes across his face. "no!!? i thought you were gonna do that!"

you bite your lip softly, your shyness suddenly reappearing. "i think m gonna go inside.." you start, still holding his hand. "i'll see you tomorrow,"

he hums, his thumb unintentionally rubbing your soft hand. "what happened to not brushing past it?"

you grin, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. he exhales slowly, his face turning red again. you smile toothily, "it's my turn to make the next move, so you'll just haveta be patient," you tease, pulling away from him to walk back in your house.

he watches you adorably wave goodbye right before you let out a girly giggle and quietly step inside. the blond can't help the tiny smile that's forced out as he lifts his head to the snow-falling sky. and then he whispers very quietly, hoping none of his nosy neighbors see him talk to himself like an idiot,

"i want a beautiful relationship with her too."

[ms-demeanor]

One thing that I keep seeing whenever I make posts that are critical of macs is folks in the notes going "they make great computers for the money if you just buy used/refurbs - everyone knows not to buy new" and A) no they don't know that, most people go looking for a new computer unless they have already exhausted the new options in their budget and B) no they don't make great computers for the money, and being used doesn't do anything to make them easier to work on or repair or upgrade.

Here's a breakdown of the anti-consumer, anti-repair features recently introduced in macbooks. If you don't want to watch the video, here's how it's summed up:

In the end the Macbook Pro is a laptop with a soldered-on SSD and RAM, a battery secured with glue, not screws, a keyboard held in with rivets, a display and lid angle sensor no third party can replace without apple. But it has modular ports so I guess that’s something. But I don’t think it’s worthy of IFixIt’s four out of ten reparability score because if it breaks you have to face apple’s repair cost; with no repair competition they can charge whatever they like. You either front the cost, or toss the laptop, leaving me wondering “who really owns this computer?”

Apple doesn't make great computers for the money because they are doing everything possible to make sure that you don't actually own your computer, you just lease the hardware from apple and they determine how long it is allowed to function.

The lid angle sensor discussed in this video replaces a much simpler sensor that has been used in laptops for twenty years AND calibrating the sensor after a repair requires access to proprietary apple software that isn't accessible to either users or third party repair shops. There's no reason for this software not to be included as a diagnostic tool on your computer except that Apple doesn't want users working on apple computers. If your screen breaks, or if the fragile cable that is part of the sensor wears down, your only option to fix this computer is to pay apple.

How long does apple plan to support this hardware? What if you pay $3k for a computer today and it breaks in 7 years - will they still calibrate the replacement screen for you or will they tell you it's time for new hardware EVEN THOUGH YOU COULD HAVE ATTAINED FUNCTIONAL HARDWARE THAT WILL WORK IF APPLE'S SOFTWARE TELLS IT TO?

Look at this article talking about "how long" apple supports various types of hardware. It coos over the fact that a 2013 MacBook Air could be getting updates to this day. That's the longest example in this article, and that's *hardware* support, not the life cycle of the operating system. That is dogshit. That is straight-up dogshit.

Apple computers are DRM locked in a way that windows machines only wish they could pull off, and the apple-only chips are a part of that. They want an entirely walled garden so they can entirely control your interactions with the computer that they own and you're just renting.

Even if they made the best hardware in the world that would last a thousand years and gave you flowers on your birthday it wouldn't matter because modern apple computers don't ever actually belong to apple customers, at the end of the day they belong to apple, and that's on purpose.

This is hardware as a service. This is John Deere. This is subscription access to the things you buy, and if it isn't exactly that right at this moment, that is where things have been heading ever since they realized it was possible to exert a control that granular over their users.

With all sympathy to people who are forced to use them, Fuck Apple I Hope That They Fall Into The Ocean And Are Hidden Away From The Honest Light Of The Sun For Their Crimes.

[fanficimagery]

Joining the Biz.

When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part Two of Three]

Words: 7.4K Author's Note: There's only a very brief Jey/Reader interaction in this. Oops. Just trying to set up Reader for part three, but at least there's some fluff that will make you smile. Hopefully..?

Over the next few days, your house becomes hang-out central. You even meet Liv, Finn, JD, and Carlito, but you don't click with them as you did the others.

It becomes obvious right away to everyone visiting your home that there's a connection between you and Jey, though the two of you dance around it. When he's not training at the arena or at the gym, he's snuggling you on the couch in the living room or just affectionately teasing you. Damian had volunteered to swap rooms with him, but you assured Damian that nothing overly intimate would be happening with Jey and explain your reasoning to him like you had explained to Jey's family. He understood and then dropped it, but you occasionally caught him smiling in sympathy at you when he saw you tucked into Jey's side.

Friday morning, your main three houseguests find you printing out a large picture of Roman. When asked why, you explained how Solo wanted you to crack Roman's serious facade, so you were going to sit ringside holding up a sign for him. And when they saw what you had written, they laughed, and Rhea took it upon herself to add red hearts around Roman's picture.

You drove to the arena early, flashing your backstage pass to be let in right away rather than wait in line. You had found your seat, which just so happened to be near the steel stairs leading up to the ring and took a moment to snap a few pics of the filling arena and post them. After posting them, you then had to clear out your friend requests yet again because the fans were interested in seeing who the woman that Jey, Roman, Jimmy, Dominik, Damian, and Rhea were posting about. Jey had posted about your workouts together, plus a few pics of your ass in your gear, but Dominik, Jimmy, and Rhea had posted your drunken dancing and Rhea's entrance stomp. Roman and Damian, however, posted group photos of all of you together or candids taken around your home and thanked you for opening up your home to their craziness.

And that, apparently, got their fans hella interested in you.

When the show starts, you keep your sign down by your feet until the perfect moment. Instead, you sit there cheering and booing as wrestlers come and go, snapping pics and video here and there. And when it's time for The Bloodline to come out, you boo Solo along with everyone else. However, when Solo notices you are booing him, his eyes squint as if he's trying to keep his mean mug in place and you're quick to form a heart with your hands and blow him a kiss. His lips purse as if to fight back a smile and you mentally cheer.

As The Bloodline talks, you grip your sign with one hand and prepare your phone with the other to take video. You boo as they talk and then scream when Roman's entrance song starts to play. Immediately you start to record on your phone.

Roman walks down the ramp, looking pissed off and intimidating as hell. You scream along with the fans, holding your sign out in front of you. As Roman nears, you cheer even louder and manage to garner his attention. He notices you first, keeping his expression neutral, but when his gaze darts to your sign and then back to your face, the wiggle of your eyebrows is his downfall. He barks out a laugh, realizes his mistake, and mouths I hate you while stomping up the steps. Half of your sign is a shirtless picture of him, but the other half reads Daddy's Home along with all the hearts Rhea had added.

As you watch The Bloodline and Roman argue back and forth, your phone vibrates with a text message.

From JeyBae: DID YOU JUST CRACK ROMAN ON LIVE TV?! To JeyBae: Yes. Yes, I did. Tell your baby brother I expect all my WWE shirts within the month. He'll know what I'm talking about.

Jey sends back laughing emojis and you send him the video of Roman when he reads your sign and cracks.

And when you get home later that night, you have a text from Roman promising to get you back for that.

You don't believe Roman until that same weekend, everyone's winding down at your house again after hours of shooting promos and having their pictures taken to refresh the web page. This time the guys are cooking, so you're free to lounge around and sunbathe with Rhea off to the side. However, just as you get comfortable, Solo and Roman take it upon themselves to grab you by the wrists and ankles. You scream as you hang between them, eyeing the pool with trepidation. Both men are laughing, bringing up how you made them crack on live tv, and no matter how much you say that it was all Solo's idea, the two Samoans swing you and then launch you into the pool.

Monday night has you attending Raw, ringside yet again, this time reppin' Jey with a Yeet sign and wearing his merch. You cheer and boo along with the crowd, surprising those around you when Dominik and Rey both break character when they spot you at different times. Dominik fist bumps you as he passes by, but your tio Rey takes a moment to pause and hug you before getting back into character. A few people around you ask why the Mysterio's are friendly with you, so you throw them a bone and admit that Rey's your uncle and Dominik your cousin. After that, they decide to leave you alone when they realize you're invested in the story telling going on in front of you.

When you get home, you're in high spirits. But then you realize that when Damian, Jey, and Rhea get back to your place, they'll have to pack and get some sleep before they have to wake up at four in the morning so you can drive them to the airport, and your mood plummets. And since you had eaten after leaving the arena, and the others had eaten at the arena, you decide to take a shower and crawl into bed.

Close to midnight, you feel yourself being moved and your eyes flutter open. You're curled on your side, and you see Damian and Rhea crawling into bed in front of you.

Rhea smiles, voice quiet. "One last sleepover."

A hand slides over your stomach, and you slide your own hand over it, sliding your fingers between Jey's. He's held you like this a few times, but you never touched his hand. Tonight, however, you'll allow yourself this moment. "I'm gonna really miss you guys."

"We're gonna miss you too," Damian says.

"Get some sleep, baby girl." A kiss is pressed to the back of your shoulder. "We still have a few hours before we gotta be on the road."

Though you're sad, you still manage to fall asleep while being cuddled by Jey.

Later, when their alarms go off, everyone's dragging their feet downstairs. You take the Range Rover, letting Damian drive. Rhea sits up front with him, and you sit in the back with Jey who refuses to let you sit far from him.

Damian parks at the airport so you can get off with them, and you help Rhea carry her bags inside.

When everyone gets to the point where you'll have to stay behind, they each take a moment to thank you.

Rhea goes first, dropping her bags and pulling you into a hug. "Thank you for this week. I didn't expect to find another family member when Dom suggested we stay at your house."

"You will always be welcomed here. Always." As you pull out of the hug, you wrinkle your nose when you feel your eyes stinging with tears already. Rhea laughs, her own eyes glassy as she steps back.

Damian steps up next, and you wetly laugh when your head barely meets the middle of his chest. "See you around, hermana."

"Don't be a stranger, Priest. You guys all have my number. Use it."

"I will." He squeezes you one last time before stepping back, he and Rhea starting to walk off. "We'll give you guys a moment."

As you turn, you're immediately engulfed by Jey. This hug is different than every one he's bestowed upon you since meeting you and you can't help but melt into him.

As your arms wrap tightly around his waist, you hide your face against the side of his neck and the two of you just stay there like that, not speaking. Then after a moment passes, you say, "This isn't fair."

"Right guy, wrong time, right?"

You huff a laugh. "Your brothers and cousin gossip too much."

"Nah. They just want to see us happy. You make me happy."

His words make your heart ache and your throat swell with emotion. "You make me happy too, but-"

"I know, baby girl. I know. It's like you said, this isn't fair." When you and Jey finally pull free from the hug, you can't meet his gaze. Not until he gently cups your face and makes you look up, pressing his forehead against yours. "We'll figure it out, yeah? It's only been a week, but already I know that whatever this is, it's different."

You sigh. "I can't do long distance."

"You will." Jey presses a kiss to your forehead and then steps back, smirking. "I'm not letting you go, baby. We're gonna text and Facetime so much that you're gonna be sick of me."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're mine. Remember that."

You gulp, his possessive words stirring something within you, but you manage to squash it less he notices. Jey continues to walk backwards with his bag, smirking, and then turns to head to his gate.

As you walk out of the airport, you're filled with sadness and loneliness, but also hope for the future.

You've never had an issue sleeping alone, in fact you preferred it, but you have trouble getting used to an empty bed this time around. You manage to cope though, especially when your new friends keep their promise to check in with you every other day. And not to mention that you get to see their alter egos appear on Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown which gives you a reason to text them, making fun of their storylines.

In between of keeping in touch with Jey, you manage to focus on yourself and grow your business of IT work, having enough resources to hire a few individuals and purchase a few work vehicles so no one had to drive their personal vehicles to any locations. And though you hadn't realized it at the time, spreading out the work actually lifted the weight that had been on your shoulders.

On Raw, you can say your favorite storylines are the Terror Twins beating the shit out of Judgement Day any chance they get, and Jey stepping up to protect Damian and Rhea when they need it. You don't really have a favorite storyline on Smackdown, but you do watch for Roman and Solo, and their ongoing battle for Tribal Chief. You get annoyed with the Bloodline when they accept Nia Jax into their ranks, making their faction even stronger. And then during one brutal beatdown on Roman, Jimmy finally makes his grand return to the ring. Roman and Jimmy aren't enough to take on the Bloodline, so Jey surprises everyone by rushing to their rescue. It's a mini reunion of the old Bloodline, and the new Bloodline seems to think twice about attacking them before retreating.

It's when you're Facetiming with Jey, teasing him about when the Creative team is finally going to give every fan what they want- his date with Rhea to Waffle House- that you get a call from your Tio Rey. You make up an excuse to hang up with Jey, not wanting to clue him in about Rey randomly calling you, and then call your Tio back.

"Hey, Tio," you greet when Rey picks up. "What's going on?"

"Mija, how are you?"

"I'm good. Work is keeping me busy."

"That's good, that's good." Rey falls quiet for a moment before saying, "Listen, I know I spoke about you possibly joining the business, but I need to know how serious you are about it."

"I mean, I wouldn't mind," you say. "I miss it. Miss the training and everything, but let's be serious for a second, Tio. I'm in no shape to suddenly get into a ring."

"You're in great shape, mija. It wouldn't take much to get you fit for the ring."

You chuckle. "If only, huh." Rey says nothing. "Tio?"

"What if I told you I got you a zoom meeting with Paul? Would you listen to what he has to say?"

"Shit. Are you serious?" Your heart starts to beat double.

"Yes." He chuckles. "I remember how much you loved wrestling and since you've made so many new friends within the business…"

"I'll do it." The words are out before you can second guess yourself. "But I have conditions of my own, Tio. The storyline has to be pretty decent if I'm to agree."

"I'd expect nothing less. I'll text you the details."

"Alright, Tio. Thank you. I love you."

"Love you too, mija. I hope your meeting goes well."

You're a ball of nerves and anxiety when Rey texts you the information about your video call meeting with Paul "Triple H" Levesque, the meeting only being in a few days.

You keep the meeting a secret from your friends and tell your Tio not to tell Dominik because your cousin wouldn't be able to keep it from Rhea. And to distract yourself, you keep busy with work.

The video call with Paul comes and goes, and you end the call feeling like you're on cloud nine. The storyline they're looking to drop a newcomer into is that of a female presence alongside Roman Reigns, of all people. They want someone who can be serious, but also a little goofy since they're looking to tone down Roman's alter ego since he's become very likable once again.

You had explained to Paul that you would love to work with Roman as a female ready to kick any other female's ass who dares to lay a hand on him, but you're not looking for a romantic storyline. Against your better judgment, you admit to having a very personal relationship with Jey Uso, and you rather not make things weird by your alter ego getting it on with Roman's alter ego. Paul chuckled away your worry, especially when you went on to playfully ask when Jey and Rhea were going to get that Waffle House date because you were waiting for it just like every other fan.

Paul talks a bit more about how Roman will be treating this newcomer like a little sister and be protective of her as she will be of him, and you're liking the idea more and more. And when he sees your very obvious interest in wanting to be that person, he slyly admits that Raw and Smackdown wrestlers will be making appearances on each other's shows, so it'll be likely that you see Jey Uso more frequently.

When you finally admit you're seriously interested, Paul tells you that there will be more phone calls and a meeting in person to be had in the near future. Since this isn't the normal way to bring in a new wrestler, the higher ups will want to see you in action.

"Noted, sir. If I'm to wrestle in person so you can see my skills, there's only one female I want to go against, but she needs to swear to secrecy about not letting it slip that it's me she's meeting with."

"Who do you got in mind, kid?" He had asked.

"Ripley," you mused. "Her technique is right up my alley. Plus, she's a friend."

"Jesus. Don't tell me I'm gonna have two brutal forces on my hand."

You smirked at him through the camera. "Can you imagine a team-up with us? We'd tear your female roster up."

Paul had chuckled. "How are your mic skills?"

You shrugged. "Not sure, but I don't have stage fright. I'm good at talking shit, but I will have to remember to censor myself. I have a potty mouth when I'm pissed off."

"That's what the production team is for. They'll bleep if necessary."

"That's going to be a lot of bleeping."

"I'm sure it can be handled." There was a moment of silence as Paul looked at something off screen. "Well, so far I like what I see. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders," he'd admitted. "Why don't we exchange numbers, so we don't have to go through the hassle of emailing. Then when I get everything set up for our face to face, we'll fly you out so we can see you in action."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much for this opportunity."

And after a quick exchange of numbers, the video call was ended, and you texted your Tio the good news.

Over the next few weeks, you change up your routine to make more time to work out and even change your eating habits. You even call a mandatory meeting with your employees, telling them that you're taking on a second job that's unrelated to what you're currently doing. If they wish to walk away, they're more than welcome to do it with no bad blood between you, but if they wish to stick around then they'll be getting a pay raise since they'll also be taking on a fair bit more of the work. Your new hires have no problem with a pay raise and decide to stick around, learning their new schedule for when you'll be out of town.

When you finally fly out to meet with Paul, your Tio Rey, Rhea, and the higher ups, you're driven to a random gym to keep your presence a secret. You walk in with the hood of your hoodie pulled up and you watch Rhea warm up in the ring. For a moment you just watch her and then you head in.

As you approach the ring, Rhea takes notice of you. Smirking, you pull down your hood and her eyes widen in delight.

"Shut the fuck up!" She practically yells in elation. "You?! You're the new blood?"

Laughing, you hop onto the side of the ring and step through the ropes. "Hopefully."

Rhea embraces you with more laughter, squeezing you tight.

"Good. You've met already," Paul suddenly says. Stepping up to the side of the ring and looking up at the two of you. "So, here's how this is going to go.."

As Paul tells you what he and the other higher ups expect to see, you strip out of your hoodie and toss it aside. You pull your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra and your leggings that are more than acceptable to fight in. You take the time to stretch, asking questions here and there to make sure you're on the same page of what they want to see. And when you begin, you and Rhea take the time to warm-up by running back and forth across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and dropping to the mat so the other could hop over whoever was down on the mat at the time.

Then when Paul tells you to fight, to feed off one another's energy and read each other's body language, you and Rhea lock in the middle. Each of you takes hits and kicks from the other, acting as if it were a real match and you were seriously injuring one another. You take turns climbing onto the ropes, but never properly get a moonsault in. You surprise everyone when you 6-1-9 Rhea, but Rhea ends your little session when she gives you the Riptide and pins you with her provocative pin.

Panting and heaving, you lay there on the mat as Rhea falls onto her own back, catching her breath as well.

There's a silence that follows before several rounds of applause break out.

"Atta girl, mija!" Rey cheers.

"That.. was impressive work for being rusty," Paul says. "How do you feel?"

"Honest answer?" You ask, breathing heavily.

"Yes."

"Rhea's pin kinda turned me on a little bit." Rhea and Paul bark out a laugh, and your Tio shakes his head in amusement at you. "But in all seriousness, I feel great. I haven't done that since I was a teenager and it.. it felt like coming home."

"I'm glad to hear that," Paul says. "We're all impressed, especially since you kept up with Rhea so well. You weren't joking that your technique was right up alley. I think with a few months of training, you'll be good enough to be introduced."

"Really?" You slowly smile, eyes turning misty.

"Yes. In the meantime, you need to make your presence known on social media. You have the option of keeping your private life private while making a new profile that's just for your public life as a wrestler, or you can start integrating your wrestling life into the profiles you currently have."

"Uh, I think I'll make some new profiles. I'll post some private life moments for the fans so they can get a peek behind the curtain in my life, but nothing too personal that they can track down where I live."

Paul nods, knocking his knuckles onto the mat. "Sounds good. And good work in the ring. I'm glad your uncle just wasn't all talk."

You grin. "Thank you for taking a chance on me, sir."

"Thank you for being an asskicker. Now, I'll be in contact. I'll get you a contract soon and we'll talk some more."

"Yes, sir. Thank you again."

Paul and the others take their leave, leaving Rey and Rhea with you. As they disappear, you can't help but burst into tears. Rhea laughs, rolling over on top of you and straddling your hips as she grabs your wrists and squeals. Rey joins the two of you in the ring, and you end up laughing as Rhea can't stop cursing and just being excited about you possibly working with her.

"So, what's this about a faction I've been hearing about? Do you already know where you're going?"

As you wipe away your tears, you sniffle. "Yeah. There's a storyline that requires a female companion and Tio Rey told them I could possibly be a good fit."

"And I was right. You were magnificent, mija."

"But it's all still a secret, so Rhea, you can't say anything!"

"Got it, got it. My lips are sealed." She crawls off of you and you sit up, laughing at her smile. "This is awesome. I hope you come to Raw. You can be our tiny terror triplet."

You huff a laugh, shoulder checking her. "I thought Uso was the triplet?" She snorts. "Seriously, I'm banking on you and Jey finally getting to go to a Waffle House, only for Damian to obliviously be third wheeling. You should become a throuple. I'd ship it if no one else does."

Rhea laughs. "Shut up. Don't give them any ideas."

Rey finally helps you to your feet, making sure you're alright and that there are no injuries that need to be looked over. You want to spend more time with Rhea, but she's got to get back to the arena before anyone becomes suspicious. But before she leaves, she tells you to keep her in the loop about what you can and when you'll possibly be making your debut. You assure her you will and to keep a lookout for your new public social pages where you'll start off as inconspicuous as you can by posting about how you want to get back into shape and what not.

When it's just you and your Tio Rey left, you hang out in the ring to listen to all the pointers he has to offer. He works with you for a couple of hours before he buys you dinner and sends you back to your hotel.

For your contract signing, your Tio Rey sits in on the meeting with you to explain a few things here and there. You're aware that your public socials will mostly need to be posts as if your alter ego was posting or anything related to fan interactions/charities/upcoming shows, but that you can also have personal pics/videos so long as you explain you're posting as your real self and not your wrestling self. However, since your impending appearance on the show is being kept on the down low, you're only to post work out videos or get ready with me videos and show no inkling of you getting into the business.

The topic of body art comes up because when you're under contract, any tattoos need to be approved beforehand. You assure Paul that there's not really anything you plan to get at the moment and understand you need to run any future ideas by the higher ups.

When Paul and some of the Creative team spitball ideas about how to start showing your face associated with the business, you have an idea. They hear you out, and though the dynamic between Dom and Rey is overused, you ask them to bring it up again. You can start flying out to shows to watch your family do work, but then get upset one night when Judgement Day starts beating down on Rey. It'll give you the opportunity to jump the barricade and shield your Tio, only to get into an argument with Dominik in the ring, tearing down those he now calls his family. You suggest Liv and JD attacking you, and Finn and Carlito attacking Rey while Dom stands back, unsure of what to do.

As you were talking, you hadn't seen the team taking notes. Only when Paul chuckled and joked that you should take up a part time job as a writer, did you finally sign the contract. Rey was ecstatic and Paul welcomed you aboard, telling you to go home and continue doing what you were doing. They'd bring you in soon.

. . . .

When you get back home, you don't change anything in your routine. The only thing that changes is that you start posting videos on your breaks, videos that Rhea immediately starts following and hyping you up for.

It takes a few days, but eventually you notice an uptick of followers from those you made friends with within the WWE community. Your comment section is full of encouragement and playful flirtation, but it isn't long until the trolls find your page. Some shower you with compliments because of your affiliation with certain wrestlers while others troll you. But since you're under contract, you can't lash out at their pathetic criticism less you want to be reprimanded by the higher ups at WWE.

One day, you're really feeling yourself and decide to do a pole workout. You wear a pair of cheeky workout shorts and a very pretty workout bralette, and get to work. There are no provocative dance moves, instead you decide to show off the strength of your arms and legs by climbing, twirling, and going upside down on the pole. You even show off your flexibility, and when it's all over you post the video with the song Play Hard by David Guetta, Ne-Yo and Akon. Immediately, the likes and comments roll in. And ten minutes later, Jey has you on Facetime.

"Yessss," you drawl as you answer the video call with a grin.

"You really gonna do me like that, baby?" As you stare at Jey, you see he's in a locker room, towel draped over his shoulder. You chuckle at his pout. "I know you danced in the past, but I didn't know you were still able to do all that."

"Of course I can still do it. Pole dancing is quite the workout. And it's fun when the person you want to see sees it." You wink and Jey squints his eyes at you.

"You still in them little ass shorts?"

"What is it with you and my ass?" You laugh, heading towards the body length mirror you have in the hallway of your home. Standing in front of the mirror, you angle your body so your ass can be seen as you twist, aiming the camera over your shoulder. When you see the screen white out for a second, you freeze. "Did you- did you just take a screenshot?"

Jey smirks. "Yes, and? I miss my girl. I need this."

You blush, heading shaking in amusement before heading to your living room and falling onto your couch to relax. "You're ridiculous."

"You know it! But as much as I've missed seeing your face and booty, there's actually a reason I called. Big Uce needs a favor."

You roll your eyes. "How many times have I told you and everyone else that my house is your house? If someone needs a place to crash, my house is open."

"See! Told you, man. You could have just showed up and she'd let you right in." Jey is talking to someone off camera and then he's scooting over, making room for another person. Roman enters half the screen. "Hey YN, how are you?"

"I'm good, Rome," you say. "How are things with you?"

He shrugs. "Could be better. My shoulder's been acting up, so the boss wants me to take a month off to heal and prepare myself for some storyline they wanna start me in."

"And you wanna spend that month here?"

You chuckle as Roman turns sheepish. "If you don't mind? It's just at your place, I know I won't be bothered if I go for a swim or soak in the hot tub."

"Come on down, Rome. It'll be nice to have some noise back in this house."

"Thank you. Do you think you can pick me up from the airport or should I get a rental?"

"Send me the details of when you'll be landing, and I'll be there."

"Alright. I'll go book the flight right now and text you right after." Jey takes over the call once more, grinning.

"What's got you cheesin'?"

"You. It makes me happy to see you treat my family like your family."

"Yeah, well they make it easy."

Jey continues to smile before it turns rather wistful. "The next time I ain't booked for anythin', I'm coming down. We have a lot of time to make up for."

"I'll probably see you before you see me," you muse. At his arched eyebrow, you say, "Dom and Tio Rey want me to start coming to shows. I'll probably wait until Roman leaves so I don't leave him alone here, but I should be coming to a Raw show at least once a month from now on."

"When you do, don't book a hotel room. You can bunk with me."

"Sure thing, Uso. Now get back to work. I wanna see you yeet that lame ass Judgement Day soon."

He laughs. "Your cuz is in that lame ass Judgement Day."

"I said what I said."

He shakes his head in amusement. "I'll see what I can do. Talk to you later, baby girl."

"Bye, Jey."

When Roman gets to your house, you help him get situated in the room that he'll be taking over for the month. You hand him the keys to your Range Rover to use while he stays and tell him you have a friend that works at the local gym who can get him some private hours should he want it. He agrees to the private hours so long as you join him which ends up being the perfect excuse to work out alongside Roman and post those pictures and videos. After all, you'll be part of his faction when you start at WWE, so it'll be nice to have those pictures on standby after your affiliation is known.

You and Roman post serious pics of working out side by side, encouraging one another. Some videos are silly, though, especially the one Roman posts where he mentions that having a workout partner is actually fun. But when he pans to you, you're laid out on the floor, panting for breath, and giving him a shaky thumbs up that he laughs at. While you had a decent routine, Roman's was intense, and you cursed him the entire time he pushed you to your limit.

Monday and Friday nights are reserved for watching wrestling on your flatscreen, and Roman can't help but tease you when you get into it, especially where it concerns his cousins.

"When are you going to make it official?" Roman asks as he watches you watch Jey's match on screen.

"When I can travel along with you guys for a couple months at a time," you answer without missing a beat.

"What about your job?"

You wince as Jey is tossed from the top rope. "I can work from the road," you admit. "I have employees now that can do the house calls and I'll be available Monday through Friday, nine to five over the phone. The only thing keeping me from flying out is that I've yet to find a trustworthy house sitter for when I'm away."

The only sound that can be heard is the commentators announcing Jey's win before, "You really love him, don't you?"

You freeze and turn towards Roman. "Love is a.. strong word."

He rolls his eyes. "If you didn't love him, you wouldn't be finding a way to travel on the road with us. It's okay to have strong feelings for him. You can't help who you love, when or how it happens."

You turn sheepish, not wanting to talk about it anymore with Jey's cousin. Your feelings for Jey were strong and they had caught you off guard. You figured they'd diminish when he left, but you only missed him more, and those feelings grew every time you spoke on the phone. It also didn't help that all your mutual friends were rooting for the two of you to work things out.

Roman lets the conversation drop and the two of you continue cohabitating like normal, treating one another like the world's most annoying brother/sister.

When it's time for Roman to get back to work, you fly out with him to attend a showing of Smackdown. You wear his merch, even carrying a sign that proclaims Roman as THE tribal chief. Unknowingly, Solo and Nia add beef to your future interactions with them when Nia rips the sign from your hands and tears it in half. You merely smirk at her, however, earning a nod of approval from Roman and a few secret texts from Paul who's giddy that his wrestlers are unknowingly setting themselves up for your explosive introduction.

But before you can get to your introduction on Smackdown, you need to make appearances on Raw as the distraught family member who's tired of your Tio and cousin beating each other down.

. . . .

Paul gives you a total of three appearances on Raw, sitting ringside and shouting at your cousin when he takes things too far with his dad. Some fans start to suspect that you might join WWE, however briefly, since WWE usually pulls in a non-wrestling family members every now and then to spice things up. Unfortunately for those who don't know, you're very much into wrestling and know how to hold your own.

On the night of your so-called debut, you're sitting ringside yet again.

(Live on Raw)

Rey Mysterio walks out to an amped up crowd and when he spots you, he takes a moment to hug you and greet you with a kiss to your temple. As he slides into the ring to start warming up, the Judgement Day theme goes off. Dominik swaggers out with Liv hanging off his arm and your nose wrinkles as Liv openly laughs at you, mockingly wiggling her fingers in a wave when you try calling out to Dominik to stop this feud already.

He doesn't, and father and son go toe to toe.

Rey and Dominik trade blows back and forth, and even with the help of Liv… Dominik still loses the match. This enrages Judgement Day, and it isn't long until Finn, JD, and Carlito are running down the ramp to beat up on Rey.

From your side of the barrier, you're screaming at Dom to stop it. You ignore the camera crew when they film your reaction and when you see Finn pull out a chair to wrap around Rey's neck, you hop the barrier. The crowd cheers as you slide into the ring like it's something you've done all your life and you cover Rey's body, holding your arms out as you stare up at your cousin who's standing on the top rope, ready to jump on the chair around his dad's neck.

A microphone is slid to you, and you pick it up, pleading with Dom as you stand up. "Stop! Stop it, Dom. That's enough." Your voice cracks and you sniffle. "It's enough."

As Dom stares at you in shock, he slowly climbs down the rope and requests a mic as you remove the chair from Rey's neck and slide it behind you, glaring at Judgement Day surrounding you. "Prima, what the hell are you doin' in here?"

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" You ask in return. "This is your dad, Dom. Your blood! Cut the crap already and come home."

He's stunned silent before huffs, a cruel smile taking over. "Home? What home? And blood doesn't define family, cuz. You should know that. When was the last time you spoke to your old man, huh?"

Oof. Low blow, but part of the script. Paul did tell you to ad-lib the fight to get under each other's skin. Slowly, you stand, turning around in a circle and putting your back to the ropes rather than having someone stand behind you.

"Of course, I know blood doesn't define family, pendejo. But I seriously hope you don't mean to call this rag-tag team of cowards your family." The crowd laughs as those of the Judgement Day take offense to that. "You really think Judgement Day 2.0 cares about you?" You huff out a laugh. "You're delusional. The only one who cared about you in their own weird way was Rhea. She brought you in. She gave you a family. She kept you safe," you seethe at him as the crowd agrees with you. "Believe it or not, Rhea and Damian were the only loyal ones of Judgement Day, and you ruined a good thing when you betrayed them all for a Harley Quinn reject that has eyes for Finn when you're not paying attention."

The crowd ooh's.

"No! No that's not true," Liv screams when she rips the mic from Dom, shouldering her women's title as if it proves that she's the best. "I love my daddy Dom and he loves me. Rhea was toxic!"

"Toxic or not, she's clearly the better choice." The crowd cheers as you look Liv up and down, disgust evident in your features. "Have fun with Rhea's sloppy seconds."

You drop the mic, turning to help Rey up. However, Liv's scream of rage makes you pause, and you feel the weight of her championship belt connect with the back of your head. You fall forward and the crowd goes into an uproar. When kicks start connecting with your back, you curl up on your side and curl your arms around your head.

Liv gets in a few kicks before you take charge. Between one kick and the next, you roll onto your back and sweep Liv's legs out from beneath her. When she falls, you scramble onto your hands and knees and straddle the women's champion before grasping her hair in one hand and delivering blow after blow with the other.

The arena fills with screams and cheers, and then you're dragged off of Liv. As your arms are held behind you by JD, Finn and Carlito help Liv up. She attacks you with hits and kicks while Dominik watches from the corner, hands in his hair as he's torn between stopping the attack or not.

THIS IS MY BRUTALITY!

Rhea's theme song goes off, purple lights flashing, and the crowd is deafening as Rhea and Damian rush the ring. Judgement Day quickly abandons ship, and the Terror Twins stalk the ring back and forth, pointing and threatening the cowards as they run away.

You stand back, glancing warily between the Terror Twins and your Tio who's still laid out on the mat.

When they turn towards you, Rhea and Damian watch you with unsurety in their gazes. You're holding onto your stomach where Liv landed kick after kick, and when your Tio groans, you rush to help him to his feet. Damian beats you to it, however, and offers Rey a hand up much to the crowd's surprise.

There's another stare off before you say, "Thank you."

Damian's expression is kept neutral, but Rhea slowly smirks, licking her bottom lip in a rather seductive manner. You can feel your cheeks heating against your will, and she laughs before her and Damian are rolling out of the ring with a mock salute towards you and Rey.

After a moment, Rey heads for the stairs and you follow after him, the two of you leaning on one another as you make your way backstage.

(End of broadcast segment.)

The moment you make it behind the curtains and filming is cut, you're engulfed in a hug by Dominik.

"Prima, that was so good!"

Liv walks up beside you, squealing. "That was awesome. I hope I didn't hurt you. I felt a few of those kicks connect."

"Nah, girl, you're good." As you pull out of the hug with Dominik, you high five the blonde. "The more believable it is, the more people will wanna watch you."

She laughs, calls you crazy, and then steps aside. The rest of Judgement Day congratulate you on a great intro, and then Rhea and Damian are there putting you in the middle of their group hug.

"Mate, that was awesome. I'm so glad I don't have to keep this secret anymore!"

"What? You knew?!" Damian demands. Both you and Rhea laugh.

"Where do you think I was sneaking off to?" Rhea muses. "Paul wanted to see what YN was capable of, so I was her opponent for the trial matches. Needless to say, everyone was impressed."

"Damn. I wish I could have been there," he says.

"And ruin the surprise? Never."

After your friends release you, your Tio hugs you. "I'm proud of you, mija. You were meant for this life and I'm glad to be a part of it."

Rey's words make you a little emotional and you have to laugh less you start ugly crying. "Thank you, Tio. I'm looking forward to what's to come."

As soon as your Tio releases you, you're spun around and yanked into yet another hug. "Damn, baby girl. No head's up?" You laugh as you hug Jey, this hug being long overdue. "Does this mean you're going to be on Raw?"

You shrug as you step back, but Jey keeps you close by tucking you under his arm. "A contract is still in the works," you say, reluctantly lying to your friends. Your contract was already locked in, but they didn't know that. "At first I didn't want to fight, I just wanted to be what essentially is a hype man on the sidelines, but Paul thinks I'm destined for more. I was scared to step on the toes of the females still waiting to be called up to the main roster, but Paul says he saw something in me worth taking the risk."

"Damn right he did," Jey says. "You're ballsy."

You smile up at him, letting him press a kiss to your forehead. "But anyway, for now I'll be stuck in the middle of my cousin and Tio, playing the distraught family member. They wanna gauge everyone's reaction to me and if I'm liked enough, they'll plant me into a storyline either on Raw or Smackdown."

"Yeet," Jey says, clearly excited. "Everything's coming together, baby. Now let's go check that phone of yours. I'm sure Jimmy and Roman are blowing it up as we speak."

Author's Note: Reader is a little ass kicker. This is very self-indulgent, so don't just me haha. Let me have this.

Spanish translations: Hermana - Sister. Mija - Darling (term of endearment family mostly uses for younger girl). Prima/Primo - Cousin. Pendenja/Pendejo - Stupid girl/stupid boy.

[gin-juice-tonic]

You watched that book of bill interview clip I posted? Good. Come on in.

So, when Alex said Bill sometimes tells "lies that are a metaphor for the truth" my mind went somewhere immediately. And I'm going to show you where.

eenie. meenie. miney.

you

"Sure, Gin. Bill's dimension wasn't destroyed by a monster, Bill's the monster, that's obvious."

Too obvious! You're thinking too small! Don't guess what I'm about to say!

The metaphor I'm talking about is here:

I really do not believe he actually has a piece of his dimension hanging around in that hat of his.

What I *could* believe however, is this strange scenario we see here is one of those lie-metaphors he's been telling.

The lie: Poor poor sad Bill carrying around the cherished remains of his dimension.

The metaphor: His destruction of his home dimension is something that's always on him. Small, contained, and locked away, but yet still present. And even if he hides it in a place he never has to see, it's still there weighing on his mind. (It's true he doesn't really have many places to put things, but a hat is a little on the nose!)

As you know, I think the pages are fake. I think this one in particular is crafted in such a way to get the reader to feel bad for him and this front he's putting up. Not even just Bill's actions/words here, but the way page is written in general. Notice how for some reason this page is largely about *his* supposed feelings and emotions. (I've said before it reads like some kind of bizarre noir novel to me.)

It plays up the "tragic" nature of his past and his supposed regrets. Yet the earlier pages in the book dealing with the same subject matter show a much stronger denial, which I think is a lot more indicative of how Bill actually acts.

It's not the only time he seems to play up his sad-sackery for viewer sympathy either. His supposed bar crawl sometime after Ford realizes Bill's betrayed him (side note... when exactly is that even meant to have happened?) is another example of the "Feel bad for me!" tone he adopts around the time he's sharing the journal pages.

But despite me saying this page is Bill crying a bunch of crocodile tears at us, he's still telling on himself about how his dimension digs into him, I think.

[chris-prank]

Yandere Hunter x GN reader

Peace-Pocalypse Part 1

CW: Manipulative behavior, Obsession, Mention of kidnaping, Implication of murder and mention of blood

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

This guy is more of the soft dominante type, so yay no subby yandere this time.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

🪓 It was surprisingly peaceful for a post apocalyptic world and Martin liked it that way. He found it to be similar to the far west, but with modern technologies. 

🪓 Most big cities were destroyed, only leaving behind small villages secluded from each other. Between them were miles and miles of luscious nature. Pretty but dangerous for solitary travelers. 

🪓 You were one of these adventurers, going place to place to create new connections. That’s when you ended up at a village called Flowermore. The name was fitting since there were flower fields all around it. 

🪓 When you arrived, you instantly became an oddity for the townsfolk, since they didn’t get to see new faces often. 

🪓 You were just another stranger for Martin, nothing extraordinary, at the very least he was even a bit wary of you. Flowermore was a peaceful place, where a real community created itself, but that didn't mean people outside were the same. That’s until he got to talk to you and not just eavesdrop on conversations you had with the people of the town. This encounter happened after two weeks of you staying at Flowermore and of him watching you from afar.

🪓 Martin lived a bit outside of town, in a forest nearby. He was a hunter, meaning he took care of bringing meat to the village and he would often leave for multiple days or weeks– hunting animals was not his only line of work, but he kept that a secret. 

🪓 It would be a lie to say that you didn’t notice him when you first arrived and that you didn’t thought he looked cool. He seemed like an interesting guy with the scars on his face and his attire making him look like a pirate. You were so enthusiastic when you got to talk to him for the first time. 

🪓 Martin thought you were so cute while he listened to all your questions, notebook in hand. He could stare at your amazed face all day if he had the opportunity. In addition, he was truly invested in the stories of your own life, contributing to them to make the conversation last longer. 

🪓 Martin wondered how a bubbly thing like you survived alone all this time. Not that he considered you weak, just that it looked so easy to gain your sympathy. He was glad that no one seemed to have taken advantage of you until now. 

🪓 The more he spended time by your side, the more he could feel his feelings grow stronger. Maybe a bit too much. 

🪓 After a month, he asked if you wanted to crash at his place for the rest of your stay. Saying that you could sleep in his bed and he could use his couch. He totally wasnt hoping that you would feel bad and offer him to join you in bed.

🪓 “It's really no problem for me darlin’ and I can sleep anywhere really. At least that way I'll have the chance to show you more of my skills.”

🪓 You were a bit unsure by this offer at first, the thought of living with him was making you all flustered, but you ultimately said yes. 

🪓 Martin soon started to note down in his journal every time you mentioned something you liked.  Once, while he was in a ghost town, he found a cassette of your favorite singer. He relishes the huge smile you made when you saw the gift. 

🪓 He could also feel himself melting in his combat boots when you played it and started dancing. Watching your body sway like that was making his mind go into overdrive. The indent of his grip on the couch was proof of that. 

🪓 If one of your favorite animals happens to be a species that lives in the surrendering area, be sure that he will find a way to capture one for you (without harming it of course.) 

🪓 Martin is not very a plant guy, but he will ask the apothecary of the village what your favorite flower looks like so he can go pick some for you.

🪓 If you’re down for it, he’ll show you how to hunt small animals, by using his crossbow or by putting traps in place. He positions himself behind you, his hands going from your shoulders to your wrist to readjust your posture. 

🪓 “Yay, just like that darling. You’re doing so well.” His face was so close to yours, as he whisper tenderly in your ear, that you almost feel his lips ghosting your skin. 

🪓 Is this just his method of getting closer to you in more ways than one? Maybe, but at the same time he is teaching you crucial survival skills! So he doesn’t feel too guilty about it. 

🪓 Seeing you and Martin spend all of your time together, armless rumors spread around. Could you really blame them? Gossiping was one of the rare sources of entertainment these townsfolk had. You tried to ignore it or just straight up tell people that you were just friends. 

🪓 Martin wasn't bothered by this, that's for sure. When people asked about the two of you, he would respond in the most vague way possible, fueling the imagination of everyone.

🪓 “Mm them? Oh you know how it is… we get closer everyday.~” 

🪓 One day, when he heard from one of the elders that you were planning on leaving, it’s like his whole world was falling apart. You couldn’t leave him, especially after all this time! At this point, you two were literally living like a couple! And weren’t you happy by his side?! 

🪓 “I heard you were leavin’ soon…At least you had a good time with me, right sweetin’ ?”

🪓 Behind his unbothered words, he was trying his hardest not to lock you up in his cottage. He had the strength to do so, but he knew you would hate him if he did. The idea of you disliking him was worse than death, so he decided on a more subtle approach. 

🪓 Martin had a lot of connections outside of Flowermore, some that he wouldn’t want you or anyone else to know of. He ended up asking some guys who were indebted to him to scare you a little. The plan was to fake a bandit ambush when you would be outside the village surroundings. 

🪓 Now, he just had to wait for you to come back to him and act shocked at the sight of your crying face. You can bet that if any of these guys went too far during the attack, he will definitely make them regret their life decisions. 

🪓 “Aw darlin’ I’m so sorry, it must have been horrible! Come here, let me give you a hug.”

🪓 Despite the traumatic experience, you kept telling him that you were determined to continue your travels. That one bad occurrence shouldn’t discourage you from trying again. 

🪓 Oh, how Martin admired your courage and dedication, so much that he could have kissed you right then and there. But in the time being your motivation was going against his plans. He tried to play the reasonable one, using his deep soothing voice while arguing with you. 

🪓 He finally convinced you to settle here by saying that you could just come with him every time he had businesses out of town. That way you could still travel (and he could keep an eye on you.) On top of that, the winter season was rapidly approaching and it wouldn’t be wise to travel by foot in these extreme temperatures. 

🪓 You slowly started to notice how much more protective he had become over you, but you figured it was just out of concern since the attack. You were a bit sad to not be able to explore like you used to, but it’s true that it was nice to have a more stable life. 

🪓 When the snow came by, it truly changed the scenery of the town. Since the end of the apocalypse, winter has become way more magical. You felt like you were in these cheap Christmas postcards just by taking a stroll in town. 

🪓 The cold was a completely different story though. It was so intense that even with the fireplace you still had to wear several layers of clothing around the house. It was one of the cons of living in an old cottage. 

🪓 One evening, you were wrapped in a hand-knitted blanket made with real sheep's wool. The good quality material weighed on your shoulders and gave your body much-needed warmth. You stared out the window and into the distance, your eyes focusing on nothing in particular. 

🪓 Suddenly a black dot appeared between the trees and seemed to grow bigger each second. It was Martin, probably coming back from hunting. Your speculation ended up correct, because the moment his features became more visible you could see the striking contrast of red on his brown clothes. 

🪓 You ran to the door and opened it for him. The man flashed you a subtle grin and with heavy steps he crossed the threshold of the door. Despite the blood, it was endearing to see him covered in snow, his shoulder length hair covered with bits of frost and his cheek burned from the cold wind. 

🪓 After he had taken off his now soiled coat, he took you into his arms and lifted you off the ground. He nuzzled his face into your neck, his beard scratching your skin. The lack of dead prey to be seen on the ground made you think that it had maybe ran away despite successfully harming it. Martin always came back home feeling down when that happened. 

🪓 When he spoke up his voice was low, almost sleepy.

🪓 “I need help to recharge, d’you think you could do that for me ?”

🪓 You cuddled for the rest of the night. Despite feeling a tad of frustration that he always seemed to find the right excuse to make you stay in Flowermore, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to fall asleep in his arms. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

So this was my terrible attempt at writing an accent that's not even in my native language... If you guys have any tip to make it better/realistic, don't hesitate to comment!

These two drawing of him are from last year, but I still kinda like them, so here they are!

[llilyrose]

So, you know that ISAT au I mentioned in my yass-girlboss King post??

HHHHHEEEERE WE GO .... info below keep reading!!! lots of words!!!! In Stars And Time FULL spoilers!!!!!

(Note: The Reset AU will be posted on @slowlysoluminary but i will be reblogging from my main)

There are some really interesting Siffrin-Meets-The-King-First aus that float around. I see them sometime! they're great! But I, as an adoring King fan, had to sit down and ask myself:

"So, uhh, like why?"

AND I DID SOME THINKING!!!!!

The King notices you're looping in Act 3. That's great! Not for Siffrin, but great narratively. If he notices it in that loop specifically, I feel like he would notice in other loops, too.

So, Act 5. The King notices how much of a formidable opponent siffrin is (among other things), acknowledges he's from the same country, recognizes wish craft, yadda yadda yadda.

He wants Siffrin to understand and resonate with his reasons for trapping an entire country in time, and while Siffrin is busy in his mind space fighting Mal Du Pays, the King makes a wish. AND HE LOOPS!!!!!??????

... Uhh, kind of? Not really. It resets the timeline all the way back to when the country was erased, but instead of the King having full memory, they're more like... vague snippets that hint at what he once was.

So, um! The first part of the AU is about the King's 10-year-long descent into madness. It's heavily condensed but it's there!! there's lore there!! I'm a king fan he needs a backstory.

"His name is Lazare" HE HAD TO HAVE A NAME BEFORE HIS KING DAYS... it's heavily implied the King wasn't his original name, and my headcanon helpfully supplied that he underwent a Change inside the house during his rise to power. I think there's like, a Head Defender? And the King was Head Defender, with full access to all libraries inside the house, when he started going crazy.

At 22 he loses all his memory while travelling in Vaugarde. Nobody knows his name so he comes up with one! He meets Siffrin 4 years later and they both travel Vaugarde together.

He becomes a defender at 29 because we see firsthand how INVESTED this dude is in Vaugarde. He wants, NEEDS this country to be safe!! he has a lot of patriotism!!! He's not actively searching for what happened to him or his country, he's just accepted it and is building himself up as a person.

oh boy .. when he turns 31 he becomes Head Defender.... And when he starts reading higher-access books throughout the house documenting a disappearing country? He gets MORBIDLY curious. And... well... this fixation leads him down the rabbit hole that got him where he is today! Except, this time, with Siffrin on his side...?

Yup! Siffrin is here! They've been here the whole time! Siffrin watches a man he's grown to love and adore fall into the Deep End. And he would find the strength to be mad about what he's doing if it weren't for the fact he was super sympathetic!!! ugh!!! sympathy!!!

Siffrin agrees with the King... but not really? He agrees with his reasons but completely disagrees with the way he's going about it. The change from Lazare to King was gradual, but towards the end he treats Siffrin more like an object of study than a friend.

The King takes his cloak and hat to study the stitching, the King won't let him cut or dye his hair again because he wants (NEEDS) this still image of his culture, etc.

Siffrin pretends his behavior doesn't bother him (because the King goes full Mansplain Manipulate Malewife on him if he voices his dissent) and keeps sneaking away from the King using his hat-less/cloak-less disguise.

In doing so, he meets a wild Mirabelle! It becomes a habit to visit her and the villagers under this "disguise" (it's only convincing in the way that Clark Kent is convincing) and he's feeling that same friendship with them that he used to back when the King was Lazarus.

... Until the House gets frozen? And the king starts Freezing People In Time For Real? No warning? Siffrin is HORRIFIED, rightfully, and also super upset. Partly because Mirabelle "got frozen" (she did not get frozen) and partly because the king has TOTALLY LOST HIS MIND NOW. no trace or remnant of who he used to be. but siffrin wants to hold on.

and then Siffrin gets stuck in a time loop! Whoops! Honest mistake!

"How does he get stuck in a Time Loop if there's no party to stick with?" ok so. of course he's going to learn Wish Craft from the King, duh. The King tells him literally everything about rhe country as he discovers it (albeit, in incoherent rambles.). And he also has his own muscle memory to draw from!

In desperation, he makes a wish: Save Vaugarde/Sav the King.

"Which one of those two is it?" Idk! That's what he spends the timeloops finding out!

Oh, wait, now that I've talked about the time loops, I CAN TALK ABOUT LOOP!!! LOOP IS NEW AND DIFFERENT!!!

^^ This was the initial ref sheet i made while brainstorming for this au (and also the sheet that birthed King In Magical Girl Poses)

"So what's loop's deal?" yeah, um, that's the thing? Loop doesn't know either!

Loop is not hiding their identity! Much like King, they domn't remember anything until afterthe Reset. They're Siffrin, yes, but not Siffrin from SASASA:AP. They're Siffrin from In Stars and Time. They're THE Siffrin that the King's wish Reset!

Thus, Loop looks very different!!!! And acts a little bit different!!! Siffrin is the only one who can see Loop, for the time being, and they follow him throughout the loops instead of staying stagnant under the Favor Tree.

They don't like the idea of not knowing who they are, or where they're from. Siffrin sympathizes with the star, initially thinking that they just... had the same thing happen to them that happened to the king? But the reason Loop follows Siffrin through the house is because they NEED to know who they used to be, and what in the Universe happened to them. Certain things trigger certain memories, and... it certainly doesn't help that the party enters the fray.

"So was the King's wish not important?" THE KING'S WISH WAS VERY IMPORTANT.

Not only did it CAUSE the reset, but it gave King the precise tools to get a timeline that fulfilled his wish (It's not the Universe's fault he lost himself and his only chance).

BUT ALSO!! ALSOOOOOOO!!!! THE KING'S WISH CORRUPTED THE WHOLE TIMELINE.

Loops are meant to reset to the day before, with no one"s memory remaining except for Siffrin's.

This loop completely Reset the timeline.

The King kept hints of his memories from the past.

The party gets dejá vū from the moment they meet to the moment they step foot in the house. They feel like something is missing.

Loop shouldn't be here. Loop should be... Loop. Loop didn't wish to be here - it's a direct violaton of his initial wish to stay with his friends, but it's a wish that technically got overwritten when the Reset happened?

Ironically, Siffrin is the only one Out Of The Loop (hehe)

,,,,,,,,,

"okay so what's the stuff IN the timeloop?" you see. you seeeeee. I've been worldbuilding so that I can figure that out. And I still don't know..... I'm setting it up with this post so I can elaborate on anything later (asks are appreciated)

"You should write/draw about this" I am! Ao3 is llilyrose but idk if I'll end up posting anything there. Of course, my tumblr is llilyrose, too....

"You stole this from user llilyrose on ISAT discord!" um, look at my url again. thx

"What if I have questions about the worldbuilding/characters/etc." send an ask, fool.... I'd really appreciate it .....

[agneslovestheinternet-blog]

FUCK YOU, don't leave me

Part One: Paper Thin (Part Two, Part Three)

Gally x Fem!Reader

You were the first female greenie to arrive in The Glade and your continued feud with Gally is legendary among your fellow Gladers. It’s about to dazzle them even further tonight because it’s bonfire night. Which means you’re both excessively drunk, hopping mad, standing right next to an enormous open flame and contemplating one question; is arson really that bad?

Genre: pure plot, the set up to enemies to lovers

Word Count: 2.7K  Read Time: 9.5 mins

Warnings & Info: strong language, brief mention of needles and flesh wounds, underage drinking, Your POV, Movie!Gally, the only Glader slang I use is “shank” because the rest sounds dumb to me (sorrryyyy), minimal Y/N use, you’re not the only girl I added several unimportant OC’s, Thomas is there but the plot of TMR doesn’t move forward

Author’s Note: I was originally going to write this whole fic in one part but then I got too excited and it got really long, so I broke it up. The other parts will be coming very shortly, let me know if you want to be tagged when I post them! This is the first fic I’ve ever posted so all constructive criticism is welcome! The Maze Runner community on Tumblr is amazing & I just wanted to throw my hat into that very talented ring; thx for reading! fun fact: Gally’s name appears 62 times in this fic :)

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

I can’t fucking stand Gally. And everyone knows that. Everyone also knows that he can’t fucking stand me. If it weren’t for saint Alby’s most sacred rule, (“Never harm another Glader”), I would’ve split his lip with my knuckles a long time ago. 

It started with The Box, obviously. That clanging, rusted, menacing machinery that brings life-sustaining supplies and headache-inducing complications. Like me. 38 months in a row The Box brought up a flushed-faced, wide-eyed, scared-shitless teenage boy. Every month, like clockwork. Until lucky month number 39 when it sent my sorry ass up. The first girl. Since then, The Box alternates between male & female greenies each month. No one has any idea why those who control The Box suddenly decided to make The Glade co-ed. But Gally’s working theory is that it’s to destroy everything they built before me.

He has a well-deserved reputation for having the loudest mouth in The Glade and he wasted no time using it against me, starting on my very first day. The first memory I have of him is watching his tanned face contort with confusion and anger upon opening The Box’s gates and finding me at the bottom.

“Why’d they send a girl?” he’d barked, piercing through me with his gaze even though his question was directed at the several dozen boys standing around him, also peering down at me.

“We’ll just welcome her like any other greenie. Maybe they thought it was getting too rowdy in here with only boys,” Alby had responded calmly, parting the sea of boy’s shoulders as he strode up to Gally’s side. He stared down at me with a much kinder expression on his face.

“I’d like to get rowdy with her,” a boy interjected loudly, sending a cascade of wolf-whistles and whoops through the group around him. I was still lying on the cold metal ground of The Box, dazed and barely aware of what was being said. But at the sound of the whistling I’d instinctively covered my chest with my arms, blocking any sight of the skin exposed above my top. Gally sharply lifted his head to meet the boy’s eyes.

“Stop thinking with your dick, shank. She,” he pointed harshly at me, “is only going to cause trouble,” He turned to Alby and lowered his volume but not his scathing tone. “If you want to welcome her like any other greenie, be my guest. But you know that a change like this could ruin everything we’ve built. Don’t expect any sympathy from me when it does,” He strode off in a huff, grabbing the set of tools he’d abandoned in the grass and going back to his construction site on the other side of The Glade.

That was my first impression of him. At the time, I didn’t know my name, where I was or what was happening but I knew that Gally hated me. And since I didn’t know anything else, I decided that the first thing I would be sure of in this new place was that I hated him too.

It didn’t take long for our fellow Gladers to take notice of our feud and prepare accordingly. It became part of the tour for every new greenie that came up.

“That’s Gally,” Newt would say, pointing out his broad figure as he ordered his crew around with a pointed finger, “And that’s Y/N,” he’d continue, pivoting 180 degrees to the front door of the med hut, where I was helping a bloodied Slicer get inside.

“If you ever see them standing closer to each other than they are right now, run or grab the nearest weapon,” he’d finish with a devilish grin. The Builders and the Med-jacks had an open agreement to keep us away from each other at all times. Whenever a Builder got injured and Gally brought them to the med hut, I would be forcefully told to take my break in my hut. And whenever the med hut needed construction work, Gally would be told to do work elsewhere in The Glade until his crew finished.

Alby had declared bonfire nights to be the DMZ of The Glade pretty early on in our feud. Gally and I have a paper-thin agreement to not start shit, but tonight? Tonight that paper thin agreement goes up in smoke.

I’m sitting on a horrendously rotten log surrounded by the few friends I have that put up with my constant outbursts towards an otherwise pretty popular member of The Glade. Elsie, (the 2nd girl to arrive in The Glade & by default my closest friend), passes me the dusty glass bottle full of Gally’s elixir and I take a hearty swig, my vision already blurry from the first round of passing. The only thing I can respect about Gally is that his concoction gets you fucked up, fast. With all the horrors we all have to deal with at such a young age, (running a functioning town, trying to find a way out of the Maze, hiding from Grievers, trying not to get stung & coming to terms with the fact that we might never know who we are or where we came from), it’s good to have a reliable way to get drunk.

Chuck is babbling a retelling of Minho’s latest run in my ear excitedly when he suddenly comes into focus; Gally. He’s marching up to me, fists balled and face flushed. It took me a lot longer than usual to realize he was coming due to my inebriation.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” he snaps, jolting me out of the warm feeling his drink was bringing me. “Hank just told me he has a crush on you. Are you just going to seduce my crew? Or do you need to have the entire Glade under your control too?”  

He’s slurring his words slightly and swaying where he stands, telling me he’s probably just as fucked up as I am. Gally rarely drinks from his own supply, so this must be why he has the sudden gall to confront me despite our agreement with Alby. I get to my feet unsteadily, anger replacing my calm demeanor, but before I can speak, Newt shimmies in between us and puts his hands up, metaphorically waving a white flag. 

“Gally, mate, you’ve had a few. You don’t want to start something here. Just sleep it off and we’ll figure this out in the morning,” he says reassuringly, putting a timid right hand on Gally’s left shoulder. Newt’s keeping his voice purposefully low as he’s aware half The Glade has started staring in response to the confrontation.

“I’m not talking to you Newt, I’m talking to her,” he snarls, shaking his shoulder out of Newt’s grip, his blue eyes never leaving mine.

“I don’t know why you’d think I’d want to seduce a Builder. You all have the IQ of fruit flies,” I snapped back, my voice coming out far hoarser than I intended it too. At the sound of this insult, the rest of my group of friends get to their feet and several of Gally’s jog over from the other side of the bonfire. Elsie’s hand instinctively grabs my left wrist as Chuck holds onto my right forearm. Gally’s arms are also being held onto by Thomas & Ben, who are exchanging worried glances. Our friends mobilized so quickly that Gally & I barely had time to react. But despite Newt’s pleading & the four pairs of fingernails now digging into our arms, Gally continues.

“Please Y/N, like a guy’s intelligence has ever stopped you from opening your legs,” he chortles, before going in for his finisher, “Just stay the fuck away from my Builders. It’s hard enough to keep them working without some slut parading around The Glade like she’s God’s gift to teenage boys,” he spits, his eyebrows furrowing and his muscles flexing, as he rigorously pulls against Thomas & Ben.

His comment rings in my ears for what feels like an eternity. That choice of insult is vicious, even for Gally. Alby has all but banned that word in The Glade, chastising & throwing in the Pit any poor shank that dares to use it against any of the girls here. 

My cheeks are hot and I feel Elsie & Chuck tighten their grip around my arms. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system or the stress of the day finally coming down on me or the wolf whistles I got this morning for taking my jacket off echoing in my ears or the smug look on Gally’s face or the memory of crying myself to sleep last week or the nods of agreement to his comment by several onlookers, but all of it is too much and something in me snaps. Fuck the agreement with Alby, fuck controlling my anger and fuck dealing with any of this sober; this means war. 

Before I’m even fully aware of my own plan, I’m ripping my arms from my friend's grip. Elsie & Chuck stumble to the ground as they call desperately after me. The crowd formed around our altercation parts for me easily as I rack my brain for the easiest way to cause Gally pain. The Glade is spinning haphazardly as I stumble to Frypan’s table with tonight’s feast set upon it. I search furiously for the rusted copper pot that holds the rest of Gally’s elixir. 

Thomas and Ben, who are now joined by Newt, Minho, Chuck, Alby and Jeff, are trying to forcefully pull Gally away from the fire, towards The Pit. He is fighting this punishment with the spirit of an angry Griever, his voice echoing continued insults towards me that I can’t quite understand at this distance.  Elsie & another Glade girl, Lireale, are sprinting after me, clearing the crowd and scanning the darkened clearing for any sign of me. Gally breaks from his friend's grip and has only a second to take in his surroundings before I’m back next to the bonfire, right in front of him.

I stare into his eyes with as much venom as I can muster, my left hand flat against the bottom of the pot, my right hand tipping it sideways. Months of swallowed anger and dismissed indignation swell in my chest. I take one last look in his eyes before chucking his famous elixir into the flames with as much might as my drunken body can muster.

The bonfire immediately swells to the height of our treehouse, quickly absorbing its new fuel. Gally’s drink has about as much alcohol in it as a bottle of medical antiseptic and I take a moment to drink in the cleverness of the destruction I’ve caused. Gally’s expression has melted from anger to fear. 

I win

I watch the orange hues reflected in his wide eyes before feeling the electric shock of stray flames connecting to my body. As I fall to the ground in pain, I feel two sets of calloused hands picking me up and carrying me quickly in the direction of the med hut. My vision is tunneled as I watch two other figures pick up Gally and carry him in the same direction. 

We’re going to have to be in the same room for the first time since our friends learned better. And after the stunt I just pulled, he’s going to murder me. I focus on preparing my mind for whatever counterattack he has planned, instead of the searing pain now blossoming in my hands and on my chest.

I come to my senses a little more in the bright med hut as I’m gingerly placed on a cot by Ben and Newt, wincing at the contact of charred skin and coarse fabric. Gally’s voice brings my ears back to reality with a ring. Though he can’t attack me physically through the pain of 2nd degree burns being sterilized, he still finds enough energy to take verbal shots at me.

“Fuck you, Y/N! I’ll be out of work for a week because of this,” he grunts emphatically, voice still slurring. I look up at him through the line of Runners & Builders standing between our two cots, trying to prevent the counterattack he’s in too much pain to plan for now. He’s balling his fists and wincing as Clint uses a damp cloth to wipe gently at the largest of his burns; a large red stripe on his right bicep. Thomas and Hank are standing at his shoulders next to the cot, helping pass supplies to Clint as he works.

“You don’t do anything but bark orders, your crew will be fine without you, shank,” I spit back. “Shank” was often used jokingly and with affection between other Gladers but when Gally and I use it, it sounds more like a slur. 

I’m still smiling cartoonishly from the sight of him getting his comeuppance. I can deal with my own pain if it means Gally has to be in pain too. I’m lying on my back as Jeff places an aloe-soaked bandage on the burn I have on my cheek. Elsie kneels next to me, holding my left hand, whispering mixed words of sympathy and scolding that I don’t hear. I’m attempting to stare at Gally, bobbing my head from left to right, trying to move into a position where her head’s not blocking my view.

The med hut is swarming with people. Alby is standing by the door, arms crossed, eyes jumping between Gally and I, getting the story of what happened told to him by Newt and Chuck. The former is in damage-control mode, sticking up for me with an earnest tone and the latter is beaming with pride, unable to contain the excitement in his voice as he recounts how high the flames got. The several large Runners & Builders that formed a human chain in between Gally’s cot and mine are starting to relax and disband, as they finally take in the severity of our injuries. Lireale is passing supplies to Jeff on my left, who’s whispering instructions to her. There are several other lookers-on who snuck in to see the action before Alby started stopping people at the door and telling them to go to bed, lest they lose their right to lunch tomorrow.

“Oh yeah and what do you do, greenie? Besides seducing every poor shank that gets bloodied up enough to have to come here,” he yells back, voice getting hoarse and gaze softening as Clint bandages the site on his arm that he injected the anesthetic into. He sighs with relief at the sight of it kicking in so quickly.

I shouldn’t be surprised this sentiment is what started this mess. Gally is known to rant to anyone who will listen that girls are a distraction in The Glade, and any shank dumb enough to fall for that distraction deserves to be thrown to the Grievers. I’m not the only girl and haven’t been for a while; there’s four more of us he could direct his sexist anger towards. But he never looks at them the way he looks at me; as if my existence itself causes him offence.

“You wish Gally. Is that why you always get your wounds patched up in your hut?” I croak back, my voice starting to falter as Jeff pulls an identical needle containing anesthetic out of my arm. “Afraid you’ll get too riled up if I’m the one stitching you up?” I mumble, my voice barely audible as my eyelids flutter close. 

I feel my shirt being pulled off gingerly by Elsie, exposing my bra. Jeff gets to work on a particularly nasty burn going from my collarbone to the top of my right breast. The last thing I see before being lured into a drug-addled sleep is Gally’s blue eyes, tracing my now-exposed figure. Maybe it’s the heat of the burns, or the stress of the pain, but I swear I can see his cheeks flush and his eyes widen before he quickly looks towards the ceiling and succumbs to the sedatives in his system as well. Like I said; Gally doesn’t look at me the way he looks at any other girl. But I’ve never seen that look before.

[aezuria]

uptown girl!

"she's been living in her uptown world, i bet she's never had a backstreet guy" —billy joel

content: mortal au!leo valdez x reader

╰┈▸ info: stuck-up reader (she gets character development later), cursing, reader is ~18, early 2000s core

notes: stella finally posted a fic !? (pls tell me if u enjoy i need validation 😔)

this has got to be the worst way to start summer ever. first, your morning was ruined by a bird shitting all over your car window—not a mess you had the time nor the patience to clean. then, on your way to pick up your friends for some much needed girl time, your car had the fun idea of breaking down. great. it left you on the side of the road, dialing up your father. which, when you think about it, really wasn't your fault! your precious ride just spontaneously combusted or something. nothing to do with the fact that you've crashed the front about seven times since january. after all, you'd gotten them fixed! it should be the mechanic's fault. or maybe, this car was cursed!

but of course, your dad just had to disagree. apparently it was his "last straw."

you winced away from the phone's speaker as his voice burst through. "you have been so ungrateful lately! when you asked for that car, i bought it for you! i looked over the fact that you don't even have your license yet! all i asked was for you to take care of your things!" he cried. from the tone of his voice, you could imagine the creases dug into his forehead. okay, now you felt bad. just a little.

before you could apologize, he finished with, "you just wait until i get there, young lady."

leave it to him to take away your guiltiness.

"dad!" you watched in horror as the truck towed your sleek red baby to god knows where. you turned your stricken expression on him, hoping to elicit at least a little bit of sympathy. but it seemed like his mind was made up on this one. dammit.

he crossed his arms sternly, putting his foot down. "let's go. we'll talk more in the house."

"-so you want to ship me away to some place crawling with bugs and creeps for the rest of the summer!?" you screeched along with the chair as its legs slid across the kitchen's tile floor.

your dad raised his hand in a placating gesture. "now, now, just until your car is fixed. it might not even be a whole month." he shrugged. yeah, real comforting. "and the city's a nice place. we lived there when you were young, remember?"

"no, i don't remember." you snapped. you did remember, but that brought on memories you'd rather not have right now.

he sucked in a breath. "alright then. it won't be so bad. we still have that apartment, and i got it cleaned up recently. it'll teach you some responsibility and independence." he nodded, satisfied with his decision.

you opened your mouth to snark at him again, but he continued, "and you won't be completely alone. there's a nice young man who will be fixing up your car, just down the street from the apartment building. i asked him to show you around when he has the time. and you'll have your phone, so make sure to call me, okay?" his strict behavior gave way to the soft spot you knew he had for you.

"...okay," you agreed reluctantly. once he really made up his mind about something, there was no changing it, so there was no use in arguing.

he smiled, patting your shoulder gently. "great. now pack your bags."

"be sure to buy groceries, and do the laundry, and clean every so often-" your father rambled on and on. if he was this worried, why wouldn't he just not go through with it? and why was he acting like you couldn't do basic chores!? it's not like you ever did them, but they couldn't be too hard, right?

"i get it dad." you rolled your eyes, staring out the car window. the buildings were all drab, painted in browns and grays, without a single bright color in sight, save for the red stop signs.

he pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the building. your insides recoiled. you swore it didn't look this... dilapidated all those years ago. or maybe you just had better taste now.

"we're here! looks like it's got a lot of.. character." he tried to cheer you up, but even you could tell he didn't think to check how it looked. it would've hurt too much to do so.

your lip scrunched in distaste. "i can't spend a single second in there."

"don't worry, it'll be over before you know it." with one last reassuring smile, he turned and left.

the apartment itself wasn't too bad, it was all cleaned up, just as your father had said. it smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, pillows fluffed and spritzed. your room was cold despite the warmth that came with summer. the pristine sheets were unfamiliar against your skin, as if you were tucked into a hotel bed. the sound of tire rolling against pavement never ceased, people had places to go, places to be even in the dead of night. a draft through your window made you shiver. you should close that in the morning. you curled in on yourself like you did when you were little, only this time there was only the unfeeling fabric to hold you, instead of the warm, long forgotten embrace no one could quite replicate.

you cringed at the shoddy place your phone had led you to, and looked up at the peeling paint sign that read: valdez mechanics. how charming. you even debated touching the rusty doorknob, but it swung open before you could turn it. which would be nice, if it didn't almost smack you in the face.

"watch it!" you hissed, side-stepping in time to see a boy your age walking through. his hair was a mess, and there were grease stains all over his face and clothes. his fingers were tap, tap, tapping away at his leg, to the rhythm of the song blaring inside. you think he'd be cute if he wasn't so dirty.

“sorry ‘bout that!” he laughed sheepishly. he stared at you for a moment too long before asking, “you here for the thunderbird?”

“yes,” you said shortly.

he chose to ignore your clipped tone, flashing you a smile. “come on in then, yeah?”

you followed him into the tiny shop, already wanting to leave. the place smelled of oil, and you could barely find a clean place to sit on. there were tools thrown everywhere, the floor sticky with dried up grease.

“i’m leo, by the way.” his voice snapped you out of your judging thoughts as he led you to the back. you finally saw your car, propped up with the hood open.

“y/n.” you barely glanced at him as you rushed over, examining the damage. “so? what’s wrong with her?”

he gestured with the wrench in his hand—when’d he get that?—and pointed to the engine. “well that’s all busted up, so i’m gonna have to build a new one for ya. i’ll do you an oil change too and-“

“yeah um, how long will it take?” you interrupted, giving him a smile you did not want to have on.

“i’d say three to five weeks? depends if i have any other stuff that comes in so…”

three to five weeks of your summer wasted away here? when you’re supposed to be having the best time of your life before college!?

“are you serious? can you get it done sooner? i can pay you some more-“ you reached into your purse.

“whoa!” he caught your wrist. his hands were clean now, must’ve wiped them on a rag. “money won’t make me work faster, honey.” he let go and shrugged. “sorry.”

honey? “well then what will? cause i need to leave as soon as-“

“some help, maybe?”

you blinked at him, utterly flabbergasted. “you want me to help you? the person who’s paying for all this?”

“technically, your father’s the one paying,” leo pointed out. “and y’know. you don’t have to help, of course. it just might make it go a bit quicker…” he trailed off, dimples poking through as he tried to hide a cheeky smile.

you huffed. “what do i have to do?”

”i am not sticking my hands in those.” you defied, shaking your head firmly.

leo scoffed, flapping the gloves around. “come on! this is the cleanest pair i have!”

"put this here?" you asked, shoving a part that you forgot the name of into an empty space.

"hm?" leo looked up from his fiddling, jaw dropping in horror. "no no no!"

"oh i know how to do this!" you exclaimed as he gave you a screwdriver. "my dad always said 'lefty loosey, righty tighty.'"

the boy nodded. "yeah! try it out." he pointed to a loose screw.

you successfully tightened it (to the right), giving him a proud smirk. "see?"

"yup." leo grinned at your enthusiasm, even though it was the most basic thing ever. "try and tighten the rest. i'll be right back."

a loud clatter made leo jump from across the repair shop. he rushed over to you, finding the parts that were supposed to be screwed together in complete disarray. "uh, maybe you shouldn't help..."

"really?" you deadpanned. "i hadn't noticed."

"sorry." he laughed. "scooch."

you pursed your lips. no one told you to "scooch" before. but you moved over anyway.

"wanna keep me company?" leo slid his gloves on and began putting the contraption back together.

no, you thought. but you didn't have anything better to do other than wander the city like a clueless idiot. and you hated looking like an idiot. "fine."

the shop was quiet, save for the occasional clanging as leo worked on the engine. his rambling was cut short as he focused on his work, something you didn't know he could do.

"nice car you got here. i've always wanted to drive one of these." he patted its side appreciatively. "where'd you buy this?"

scratch that. maybe he could only shut up in two minute increments.

"don't know. my dad bought it for me." you looked around, not even bothering to hide your boredom.

"right." leo laughed. you found he did that a lot. "must be nice."

your eyebrows knitted in confusion. "i guess?" what did he mean by that?

"i hate it here. it's so boring!" you complained over the phone. cooking dinner had been an absolute mess. “and that leo guy is so weird.”

"give him a chance, will you? he could show you around town, maybe teach you some manners…” you father muttered the last bit.

"what?"

"nothing! all i'm saying is give that boy a chance. who knows, he could be a great friend."

“‘great friend’ my… foot.”

[lowkeyerror]

A New Victim

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: 1st part of a lil mini-series, had to post something for Halloween, will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually

Summary: You knew something of the rumors surround your classmate, Tara but you never took them seriously. However you find yourself wrapped up in the real life horror story.

Pt2 | Pt3 | Masterlist

You had heard the rumors about Tara Carpenter and her sister circulating around campus. The rumors didn’t bother you much. Or rather they didn’t persuade you to treat your classmate, Tara, any differently than you would treat anyone else.

Some people were afraid to interact with her in fear of pissing her off. They were more afraid that getting on Tara’s bad side would alert her sister, Sam.

Now Sam was a little scary. You had seen her with Tara a few times. The woman looked like her primary state of being was upset. She looked like a very serious figure.

You didn’t blame her. Their whole group of friends had almost been murdered. Instead of sympathy and compassion the public offered accusations and scrutiny. So much so that they moved away from their hometown to escape the media.

“You’re friends with my sister, right?”

You were sat under a tree on campus the first time you heard Sam speak. Looking at her this close made your heart flutter. She was an attractive woman and that was enough to make you sweat a bit.

Unable to speak for a moment, you nod dumbly.

Sam ignores it and continues with her questioning,” Have you seen her today? I’ve been looking for her everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“She left class a bit early today. I think she said something about Chad needing her help with something.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “Of course she did. I’m Sam by the way, sorry to interrupt you."

Before you can say your own name, the younger Carpenter sister is shouting it as she approaches the tree with Chad trailing behind her.

“Y/n! Don’t mind my overprotective and obsessive sister. What ever she threatened you with, I can promise she won’t do.”

“Where have you been? Y/n told me you left class to meet Chad.”

Tara glares at the girl sitting,” You told her I skipped.”

You shrug,” She seemed worried, so I just told her you left with Chad.”

“Where I am is none of her business. She has my number if she’s looking for me.”

Sam scoffs, “Having your number doesn’t mean shit if you don’t answer your fucking phone.”

“I think we should all just calm down for a second, okay. Tara is safe and everything is fine,” Chad tries to de-escalate the situation.

“No, it’s not fine Chad. Why is my sister skipping classes to meet up with you? And why isn’t she answering my text or calls?”

Y/n had no place in this conversation, but she felt like moving away would only cause a bigger fuss.

“Because we were fucking. Is that what you want to hear Sam?”

Sam runs a hand through her hair,” I don’t care that you’re fucking. I care that I can’t get in contact with you when I’m worried about you.”

“What are you worried about?”

Sam looks at the girl as if she’s grown two heads,” Are you fucking serious Tara?”

Tara groans,” We aren’t there anymore, Sam. We left Woodsboro. No one is coming after us. So why should I have to live my life in paranoia because you can’t move on?”

“Fine, you know what I'm done. Don't pretend you don't have that feeling like someone is always fucking watching us. Don't pretend like what happened back there doesn’t fucking traumatize you and make it hard to live your day-to-day life. But most of all don’t act like there aren’t psychos out there willing to try to fucking replicate that shit because it happens every fucking time, Tara.”

Sam storms off after that. Tara’s eyes soften for a moment before her mask comes back on. Chad goes to rest his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.

It’s only then that her eyes land on you, “You must feel like it’s your lucky day getting front row tickets to the freak show.”

You shook your head, “It’s none of my business, so I don’t really care.”

Chad senses that there’s more you want to say, “But…”

“But your sister kind of has a point. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there that have a weird obsession over him and over y’all. Entire internet communities are filled with those kinds of people. It’s a little naïve to think that just because you moved away that you’re safe.”

Neither Tara nor Chad like the way the last sentence sounds in your voice. They both eye you suspiciously. That’s when you realize what you said could come off wrong.

You began to sputter and put your hands up in surrender, “I’m just agreeing with Sam.”

Chad wasn’t convinced, but Tara had known you a little better. She knew that your awkward demeanor was tried and true.

“Anything else you want to pile on, Y/n?”

You look between the standing pair,” You left class to fuck your boyfriend?”

That leaves them both blushing rapidly. Tara quickly spews out, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

While Chad opts for, “We did not hook up.”

You laugh at their response. Unfortunately for you, this brought you a step to close to the kids from Woodsboro in the eyes of Ghostface.

The killer had watched the entire interaction from start to finish. From the moment Sam approached you, the killer began analyzing you.

They saw the potential interest you had in Sam and your budding friendship with Tara as enough reason to add you to their list.

Tara and Chad eventually left you alone. Shortly after their departure you decided that it was time for you to leave as well.

It was still daylight when you decided to make your way to your apartment. There was a pit in your stomach as you walked. Though the streets were crowded, it felt like someone was staring at you.

You wanted to dismiss the feeling, but you checked your surroundings first. It was almost as if the crowd had faded away and the sounds of the bustling New York streets came to a halt.

Staring at you from across the street, was Ghostface. In your mind this wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. You had stopped walking, almost paralyzed in your spot.

The killer sent a wave your way, before dragging their finger across their neck. You shut your eyes as you stood still. You were trying to convince yourself that when you opened them, you’d wake up from a dream.

When you feel a body collide with yours, you shriek and push the person away. Your eyes shoot open instantly.

You don’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Samantha Carpenter was on the ground in front of you.

The woman wanted to yell at you, but the look of terror on your face stopped her. It was like you were in a trance, your eyes were glued to a spot across the street. Sam looks in that direction but doesn’t see anything.

She slowly picks herself off of the floor. She’s hesitant to touch you, so instead she just calls your name, “Y/n, what was that about?”

You turn your attention to the woman, but you look physically ill, and she takes note of that.

“I saw- He’s going to kill me. Oh fuck, I’m going to throw up.”

The bile quickly rises up your throat. You rush to the end of the street and hunch over.

Sam is instantly by your side. She holds your hair with one hand and rubs your back with the other. The Carpenter sister couldn’t really make out what you said the first time.

Once you finish vomiting, she wants to question you again, but refrains from doing so. Though it is against her own set of strict rules, you look unwell, and she can’t leave you like this in good conscious.

The apartment is close by, so she helps you stand and guides you to her apartment. You don’t say anything during the walk, you barely have even the cognizance to pick up your feet.

The only image that keeps replaying in your head is the cloaked figure dragging their finger across their throat. It makes you want to puke all over again.

When she enters the apartment it’s a full house. Tara, Chad, Anika, Mindy, Ethan, and Quinn; were all congregated in the living room.

Sam motions the people on the couch to move out of the way. She sits you up straight and everyone is silent.

“Who is that? I thought we strictly had a no one, except Quinn's hook ups and us, in this apartment rules.” Mindy is the first to speak up.

“Why is Y/n here and why does she look like that?” Tara gives her sister a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me I found her on the street like this. She shoved me to the ground and vomited in the street.”

“Poor thing,” Quinn reacts to Sam’s words.

“Did she say anything? Because it looks like she’s a walking zombie,” Ethan adds.

Sam nods, “She did, but I didn’t understand her and seconds later she was puking.”

Anika nudges Tara,” She’s your friend, try to get through to her.”

Tara slowly approaches Y/n. She gets eye level with the girl who seems to be in a catatonic state.

“Y/n, what happened? Talk to me,” Tara’s voice is gentle when she speaks. A side of her that no one in the house is used to seeing emerges.

You begin to tremble, and your eyes suddenly come alive. Your voice is shaky,” He’s going to kill me."

It was a whisper, but Tara heard you perfectly clear. Sam notices her sister’s body tense after the words left your lips.

“Who?”

You begin to shake your head as tears start to stream down your face. Your head buries itself in your hands.

“I saw him, across the street,” your throat burns as you spoke.

Sam hears that part and interjects herself in the conversation,” Who did you see Y/n?”

“Ghostface.”

[selfinsertmadness]

i have a really cool prompt

hope you like my idea,

could you perhaps write a story about the current logan situation with loganxy/n ??

i love your blog soooo muchhhh

Logie and the Australian car incident

pairing: AstonMartin!y/n x Logan Sargeant (can be read platonically or romantically)

author's note: I haven't written any fanfic stuff in literal years (middle school me is quacking) but I tried my best with that one. Looking forward to any suggestions or critiques you may have :) (insert obligatory English is not my native language here) (please send promts!!!!)

The day starts off as any other day on a busy race weekend would and you are busy running around the Aston Martin garage making sure everything is in order before you return to your place at the back of the garage. You let your gaze sweep over the garage one last time before getting out your work phone and texting your boss, Lawrence, that everything is in order. The cars seem good, the mechanics had no complaints and Lance and Fernando were reasonably happy with everything. A satisfied smile washes over your face, your job was busy but reasonably easy, as the team caretaker your sole mission was to make sure the team was happy, the drivers taken care of, and the PR supervisors were not losing their minds running after their drivers while also texting Lawrence even the most minute details about his son and the other driver.

It seems quite redundant to you, but Lawrence Stroll pays well and who are you to turn down a job as a glorified team nanny.

You take a seat at the back and watch the first practice session absentmindedly, letting your gaze wander down to your phone occasionally, and scrolling through Twitter, scoffing at all the hate towards the current grid. It never ceases to amaze you how people can be so hateful, but then again, some people are just unhappy about their own lives. Looking up at the screen you watch a Williams car hit the wall on the right before sliding across the track and grinding its way to a stop on the left barrier. You gasp as you jump up, the rest of the garage wincing in sympathy as the car finally stops. You quickly turn to a mechanic nearby. “Who was that?”, you ask a little panicked as you watch the red flag fly and a driver in a Williams race suit climb out of the cockpit. “Albon, I think”, the mechanic replies helpfully as you try and suppress a relieved sigh. You still feel sorry for Alex but simultaneously thanking your lucky stars that Logan was not the one in an accident this time.

When Logan first got signed by Williams you both were ecstatic, you had met years ago when your parents had taken you on a vacation to Florida where you met Logan and you’ve kept in touch ever since. You had already been working for Aston Martin when Logan started in F1 and the fact that you could spend a lot more time together now served as further motivation to both of you to give it your best. You quickly shoot him a text, knowing he won’t be responding until later, before sending your boss a quick update and making sure the crash had not affected your team.

You honestly had forgotten you texted Logan in the first place as you watch the cars head out for the second practice session, Alex staying back in the pits, watching his teammate drive. You smile as you send Logan some memes you had found on twitter, knowing he would have a laugh once he got back to his room after the strenuous practice sessions of the day. Aston Martin, for once, had no major issues you had attend to and you could lean back and relax, as much as one in a Formula 1 garage can relax, in your seat while harassing the Aston Martin Instagram Admin with Memes you think they should be posting asap.

As the second practice session ends you help the team pack up and prepare for the next day as the drivers attend to their media duties and you stretch in relief as the first day of the Australian Grand Prix comes to an end.  After having everything sorted you get out your work phone and sign off for the day before taking out your personal phone and responding to some texts before checking your chat with Logan, seeing that he had read your messages but not responded. ‘You ok?’, you send him before shrugging off any worry you might have. Surely, he was just busy, after all, he was the only Williams driver that would be starting on Sunday. You really wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, the weight of the entire team and all the fans’ expectations resting on your shoulders. You might have a lot of responsibility but at least you were free of the expectations fans place on the drivers, mechanics and team principals.

You quickly slip into the shower of your private hotel room, a perk you were eternally grateful for, and put on some pajamas before order room service. You had earned it after all and looking after your figure was thankfully not a concern you had. ‘Ignoring your bestie? That’s not how I know you Loggie!’ you text Logan as you open the door for the food you had ordered and sit down before digging into the pepperoni pizza you had been craving for a week.

You startle as you hear a knock from your hotel room door. You shoot a quick glance at your phone, 11pm. You quietly approach the door and look through the peephole cautiously. Who would disturb you that late on a race weekend? Looking through the hole you see Logan at the door, his face unusually pale and his expression unnervingly neutral. Quickly you reach for the doorhandle, pulling the door open. “Logie? What got you a-knocking that late?”, you ask jokingly but the lighthearted smile on your face quickly fades as he stands on the swell of your door like a man lost, his eyes suspiciously watery. “Oh dear”, you mumble as you quickly pull him into your room and heard him towards your bed, letting him sit down before standing before him and looking at him with a stern expression. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, concern written all over your face.

He sighs, falling back onto the bed. “They’re taking my car.”, his voice sounds wobbly as he explains. “Who is taking your car?”, you ask, your voice confused.

“James. He said Alex has a higher chance of scoring and I get it, but I tried so hard, you know? They said they trusted me, and I was ready to proof how much I have improved and now I can’t drive at all. I didn’t crash the car! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything…”, he rambles, his voice flowing between sadness, anger and betrayal before ending in defeat. You look at him, he still has his upper body lying on your bed, his feet dangling off the side as he continues explaining what had happened. Quietly you sit down next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair as you let him talk out his frustrations. “y/n? What do I do now?”, Logan asks as he looks up at you, his eyes still wet but trying his hardest to not shed a tear.

“I will put the fear of God into that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.”, you explain very matter of factly. “I’m gonna walk down to the Williams hospitality and I’m gonna scream at your team principal!”, you declare with a huff as you get off of your bed and towards where you kicked off your shoes when you came back from the paddock earlier that night.

“Y/N, do NOT do that.”, Logan warns as he gets up and grabs your hand. “That is just going to make it worse.” “Okay but it’s also gonna make me feel a lot better ‘cause who does he think he is? Taking your car and giving it away. I’m gonna make him regret this entire week” you say angrily as you look up at him with determination and the wrath of someone who’s best friend was just wronged in your eyes.

“Please don’t”, Logan asks with sad eyes, gripping your hand even tighter. “Please just stay with me tonight, I feel sick. I just want to cry.”, he admits to you as you feel your resolve break. “But- “, you trail off as you watch him stand before you, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You sigh in defeat before squeezing his hand. “Right but only ‘cause you asked me to, if it was up to me…”, you stop, leaving the threat hang in the air of your hotel room as you head towards the small desk. “Pizza”, you declare as you shove the leftovers of your pizza into Logans hands. “My TV has Netflix, what do you want to watch?”, you ask as you throw yourself into the hotel room bed and turn on the flatscreen TV hanging opposite it.

Logan lets out a surprised laugh and sits down next to you, the pizza carton still tightly in his hands as he gets out a slice and lets you choose whatever show you find on the homepage. The evening continues in relative silence as Logan finishes the pizza and you sit in the bed, leaning onto each other. “I’m still sending him negative vibes, like spiritually”, you grumble as he giggles before slipping off to sleep for the night.