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#also if you notice any books on here you've read or want to read or whatever let me know~~~ any you love~ any you hate~
lonesplendour · 1 year
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Bookshelf Overview
In classic me fashion when asked a simple question, I make a very overcomplicated, unnecessary picture display on the matter. The lovely @solaarflaree asked to see the organisation of my bookshelf so here I am to walk you through it as best as I can. Did I draw over the childhood picture of me and my sister? Yes. We are going to pretend we don't notice because privacy is a thing and my editing skills are as basic as just scribbling over the image in paint.
Anyway, from my expertly taken (and by that I mean wandered upstairs and used my getting on a bit phone) picture of my bookshelf overview you can see my general setup. My shelves are all IKEA Billy bookcases (love you IKEA) and I have 12 big shelves that I use for books and 6 half-size shelves that I use to store random stuff I have been given/collected over the years and have no other place for. You may also notice that the very top shelves are actually dedicated to Red Velvet & SHINee, that is the not my entire kpop collection but they deserved their own shelves, and no I do not own every album yet because they are very expensive when ordering from the UK~
My organisation goes left to right and then onto the next shelf, not all left and then all right, which will make more sense when I explain down below.
Shelf Details
Looking at my shelves more closely, I organised the pictures how the shelves are meant to be viewed to give the best idea of how my books are organised. The easiest way to explain it/show them is to say that the middle block of shelves act as a decorative buffer but ultimately my shelves follow a left to right sweep with a small break in the centre. You can see this easily when the pictures are put together by looking at my Hunger Games books, you can see the books jump from the left hand shelves to the right hand shelves rather than going underneath. I essentially view my long shelves as one long shelf, rather than two separate bookcases, and so I will explain them as such.
Starting with the top two images you can see that right now I have my graphic novels separate to the rest of my books, that is really just because of spacing, sometimes they are grouped at the very front too, it all depends on where I can squeeze them in. Then going to the immediate right you will see my cute mug that houses all my bookmarks and this is where my books essentially begin. It starts with books that are compilations i.e. there is not one author featured to alphabetise them, so they are oranised alphabetically by book title. From 'P.S. I Love You - Cecelia Ahern' we officially move into the alphabetised section, these books are alphabetised by the author's surname and this is generally how all my books are organised. The only thing that overrules alphabetising is chronology within a series, which takes president e.g. you will notice that my Leigh Bardugo books are organised both alphabetically (starting with Ninth House) and then chronologically (the Grisha verse books are organised in the order they were written/that the story follows).
Also yes there is a random book stacked on top of the others, that is because I bought it literally two days ago and like a moron didn't notice it was a sequel until I got home, so it is like that to remind myself to buy the first book before I put it away.
This order continues pretty much throughout until we reach the bottom left picture, on the very bottom shelf, where you will see 'The Book Thief - Markus Zusak'. At this point the organisation changes slightly again, though there is still a running theme of alphatisation throughout.
Here I start with a very, very (literally two) small collection of non-fiction books and then we move onto my special editions. It starts with my very old Shakespeare books and moves quickly onto my hardback collection (this section is only for special edition hardbacks, otherwise you'll see hardbacks all throughout my shelves). These books are again organised first alphabetically by author and then alphabetically by novel e.g. all my Jane Austen books are together but they are further organised alphabetically by title rather than chronology, this is because the books are stand alone rather than a series. After my hardbacks you'll see I have a few paperback special editions, these came together as a set so I have kept them that way rather than splitting them apart by author, although within the sets I've organised them alphabetically by author.
Then we move onto my poetry collection. Poetry again is organised first by author's surname, then by series/chronology. This is easiest to see with my Amanda Lovelace collection, where all her books are grouped together by the series they come in and the order they were published. At the end of my poetry collection is again compilations, books where there isn't just one author, so they are placed at the very end of the shelf as to not get mixed in with everything else. Finally, I have a few books that are just huge and don't have a set place to belong so it makes sense for them to be there.
Plushy Bonus & Final Thoughts
Finally, there is a bonus picture of all my plushies that live on top of my shelves. I won't go through naming them all but they are very cute and watch over me when I sleep.
Other than that you may notice I have a lot of other random stuff on my shelves, some of it decorative and some of it just gets dumped there for convenience sake. You never know when you'll need a blob of blu tack or some scissors.
In conclusion, my way might not work for everyone but even if it makes no sense to you, I hope you enjoyed this insight into the way my mind works. If the organisation still baffles you, at the very least I hope you enjoy nosying at the kind of books I like to read and the sort of random stuff I collect~
If anyone took the time to read all of this, thank you 😘
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cow-smells · 1 year
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Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader
Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D
The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25
Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: none
A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)
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“Don't you ever take a break?”
Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.
Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”
You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.
When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.
You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.
The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.
The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.
The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.
The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.
You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.
You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.
So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.
You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”
You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”
You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”
Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.
The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.
You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.
The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.
The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.
In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.
"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.
"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"
It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"
Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."
Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."
You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."
Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."
You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"
You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.
The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"
Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.
The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."
Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."
On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.
From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."
Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.
"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."
And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.
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littledovesnow · 9 months
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a growing family pt. 2
a/n: yay for part 2!! read part one here
word count: 1.8k
warnings: pregnancy, pretty canon-level violence and stuff i think. also i'm sorry in advance about this part <3
-----
"Now, Mr. Snow, you and your wife leave tomorrow for your District Tour." Lucky Flickerman spoke into microphone, eyes bouncing between Coriolanus and you.
Coriolanus nodded, not quite sure where this was going. He was briefed on the. main topics that Flickerman would go over during the interview and this was not one of them.
"Is there any worry about the twins? Congratulations, by the way! Twins! How lucky are you!"
You smiled, patting your husband's hand to signal that you would answer this question.
"Thank you, Lucky," you started, sweet smile on your face. "I've been in conversation with my medical team, and we've all come to an agreement that it's quite safe for me to travel with Coriolanus and the rest of his cabinet. I'm not due for another couple of months, anyway."
Coriolanus smiled at you, voicing his answer, as well. "We've also spoken to the OB/GYN, and she will be joining us on the latter half of the tour. We hope she can just enjoy the travel, not needed for any medical emergencies."
Lucky nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Now, Coriolanus, you've mentioned in some changes to the Hunger Games in the coming years. We've had questions coming in from watchers, but first, a few words from our generous sponsors."
The red light went off on top of the cameras, and you let the superficial smile fall from your face, hand going to rub your lower back.
"Your back still hurt, love?" Coriolanus asked, noticing your discomfort.
"I think our kids are going to be soccer professional, Coryo." You grumbled, one of the twins had been kicking mercilessly for a few weeks.
Coriolanus chuckled, removing your hand, using his palm to massage the area. "Well, you can tell them off when they're out here."
Lucky, who had been observing the couple from his spot on the seat across from them, wore a smile. "One thing that my wife asked I do when she was pregnant with Caesar was massage her back every night. Sometimes she still makes me do it."
You smiled at the TV host, humming. "Not a bad idea. Coryo, I think I know what your next job will be."
Coriolanus snorted, hand still massaging your back. "Anything for the mother of my children."
-----
The train car you were currently seated in was more luxurious than you remembered, seats having been upholstered from your last trip out of the Capitol.
You looked away from the mountain ranges decorating the horizon when the door opened, Coriolanus entering.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, coming to sit in the seat across from you, moving your feet from the seat to his lap.
Humming, you leant your head back as he began massaging them. "Better now. What was that meeting for? I thought you had travel days free."
Coriolanus pondered over how to answer, not wanting to tell you he had just had some rebels executed for a potential threat in Six. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
Opening an eye to look at him, you could read the man like an open book. "How many were there?"
There was a beat of silence before Coriolanus spoke up.
"Four. Would have been three but some things you can't avoid."
You didn't reply, simply wiggling your foot when Coriolanus' hands stopped massaging the arch of your foot.
He laughed, resuming the action as you two watched the mountain ranges and nature outside of the train.
-----
You yawned, staring at the ceiling of the Crane's hotel in District Three. It was nearing one in the morning, and you had gotten a sum total of about two and a half hours since you and Coriolanus crawled into the bed.
Moving as quietly as you could, you rose from the bed, waiting a beat to see if Coriolanus woke up.
His rather loud snore told you he was still off dreaming, something you were thankful for. He had a lot on his shoulders, and you didn't want to add onto the never-ending pile of worry and stress with the upcoming election.
Moving to the bathroom, you softly closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. The twins had been keeping you up at night more frequently, and your OB/GYN said it was just because while they were starting to get a regular sleep pattern, they couldn't tell day from night and often slept during the day.
When you opened the door, you frowned when you saw your husband sitting up in the bed, cheek still indented from the creases in the pillow.
"What are you doing up?" He asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
Rubbing one hand across your ever-growing bump, sleepily blinking at the man across from you. "Your children are wide awake, it seems."
Coriolanus smiled, patting the spot you had previously occupied. "Come here, I'll rub your back."
With the promise of that, you made your way back into the bed, stuffing one of the many pillows on the bed between your knees.
"Oh, well hello, little one."
You looked at where Coriolanus was staring at your bump, tiny foot barely visible. "Oh that's the most disturbing thing I think I've ever seen."
"Don't say that!" Coriolanus chided, though there was a smile on his face. "That's your child in there!"
"Coryo, you shouldn't be able to see their hands from outside!" You laughed, even though your OB/GYN said it was very possible to start to see little hands and feet as there became less and less free space.
Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your hairline, rubbing the place where the foot was. "Hi, babies. Please let your mother sleep, she needs to help me win over the hearts of Panem."
Rolling your eyes, you moved Coriolanus' hand to your back, letting your head fall back against a pillow. "Rub my back."
"Yes dear."
-----
Hand clasped tightly in Coriolanus' you two followed the Peacekeepers to the barracks to meet with the district's mayor and Commanding Peacekeeper.
You two had won the hearts over a majority of each District you've visited, but as you two traveled farther from the Capitol, you knew it would be more difficult and the chance of threats and rebels increased.
The number of Peacekeepers surrounding you two had grown within each stop, Coriolanus wanting to make sure nothing happened to his wife and mother of his children, his heirs.
"Mr. and Mrs. Snow, we're very pleased you two could be here!" The mayor smiled, shaking both of your hands.
You returned the sentiment, eyes locked on the plush-looking chair behind him. "Is it alright if I sit? My feet are killing me."
The mayor, who seemed to have just realized how large your bump had grown, nodded quickly, gesturing to the chair you had pointed to.
Coriolanus stood behind you, one hand smoothing your hair as he and the mayor discussed the afternoon's speeches and tour around the main hub.
"Will you be joining us, Mrs. Snow?"
"No, she's been feeling a little more tired." Coriolanus replied before you could speak up.
The mayor frowned, seemingly disappointed.
"Is there a problem?" You asked, feeling Coriolanus' hand still at the nape of your neck.
"Well, the children here have been so excited to meet you, but I'm sure seeing Mr. Snow will be just as fine."
Coriolanus knew you had a soft spot for children, how they still saw the best in everything. "Love, you barely slept last night. It's safer if you rest."
"Coryo, it won't be too long. And besides, we have a couple travel days I can catch up on sleep."
You ignored your husband's deep frown, instead smiling at the mayor. "We can't possibly let the kids down, can we?"
The mayor clapped happily, rising from his seat. "Well then, shall we go?"
You stood from the chair with some help from your husband, who placed a hand on your lower back, unable to keep his hands off of you.
"You're a spoiled brat, you know that?" He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"And you love me for it." You replied, sharp smile on your face.
-----
Coriolanus watched as you followed a few of the schoolchildren around the classroom, letting them explain the backgrounds of their various posters and projects.
"She's going to be a wonderful mother." The mayor spoke, standing next to Coriolanus.
He nodded, watching you kneel down to listen more to a rather small girl, your eyes focused on her entirely. "She already is."
"Mr. Snow, Mayor, we're going to be late if we don't head for the town square now."
Nodding, Coriolanus walked over to your side, kneeling down next to you and the young girl. "Hi, love. Mind introducing me to your friend?"
You looked at your husband, and then at the young girl. "Coryo, meet Clementine. Her friends call her Clemmie."
Coriolanus saw the twinkle in your eye as you looked back at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you, Clemmie. You know, Mrs. Snow and I have a friend named Clemmie."
"Really?" Little Clementine asked, eyes wide.
Nodding, Coriolanus helped you stand up straight. "We do, but don't worry, we can have two Clemmies. Now, I do have to steal Mrs. Snow now, we have to go to town square."
Clementine pouted, but nodded. "It was nice to meet you!"
"You, too, Clemmie! Good luck with your new brother!" You smiled, squeezing Coriolanus' hand as the two of you followed some Peacekeepers out of the school and down to the town square and stage.
You've only seen the stage on television for the Reaping Ceremonies, it looked larger on screen. "She was so sweet, Coryo. She was telling me how her mother looked like me and now she has a little brother."
Coriolanus smiled, thumb rubbing your hand. "That's very sweet. I'm sure you made her ent-"
A loud explosion cut Coriolanus off, Peacekeepers immediately springing into action, separating the two of you to get you both to safety.
There were a few more explosions around the stage, sending debris and dirt in the air.
"Coryo!" You called, trying to wriggle out of the Peacekeepers' grip and find your husband.
You coughed as you inhaled smoke, eyes wide to spot Coriolanus. "Let me go! I need to find Coriolanus!"
"Ma'am, you need to come with us! We have orders to bring both you and Mr. Snow to a safe room, please cooperate."
You had a disdain for the Peacekeeper who spoke to you rather harshly, feeling his hands tighten their grip on your bicep.
Stumbling a few times, you had finally made it to the small bunker, heart hammering when you saw Coriolanus and the mayor already in there, dirt on both of their faces and clothing.
"Love," Coriolanus sighed in relief, though it was short-lived as he ran his eyes over your body. "Love, you're bleeding."
-----
a/n: oh how i love a good cliff-hanger
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weird-is-life · 3 months
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hey lovie! what about a remus x reader where he sees her asleep in the back of the library one evening on his prefect rounds and he wakes her up. he is more concerned on how long she’s been studying/asleep since it’s so late…on their walk she just walks with him during his rounds because they are just chatty
they both fancy each other but neither of them think the other thinks the same. he walks her back to gryf tower snd he finally says what he’s wanted to say for years
(i hope that makes sense and if ya hate the idea, no problemo lol)
xoxo
Hii lovely🥰 ty for the request. I tried my best, hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n, like one swear word, (0.9k)
Remus has seen you many times before. Either in the common room, halls, dining room, and the most in the library.
Remus always sees you in the library. Sitting quietly more at the back of the room. Either reading some book or doing the assignments for the classes.
So it's no surprise to see you here even now. But it definitely catches him off guard seeing you here so so late. Remus was on the last one of his prefect rounds before heading to bed himself, and he wasn't expecting to see you in the library.
Remus, from a shorter distance, notices that you are asleep. Softly exhaling one breath after another. Something stirs in Remus's heart at the sight of you, but he ignores it.
Remus approaches you, and tries to wake you up as nicely as he can. He doesn't want to scare you. He gently shakes you by your shoulder, and whispers your name a few times.
You rouse from sleep, blinking,  completely baffled by Remus's handsome face.
Remus thinks you are even more cute when you are half asleep. It's not doing any favors to his feelings for you. But he wills those thoughts away, and says, "sorry, y/n. You fell asleep in the library, and it's getting pretty late."
The sleep haze quickly dissappears when you realise where you are. You are up on your feet in a matter of seconds, packing your things away.
"Shit. I'm sorry. I was reading, and-and I must have fallen asleep," you explain in a mild panic. You would be in a lot of trouble if it was anybody else other than Remus that had found you here. Students aren't allowed out of their dorms this late at night.
"It's alright," Remus reassures you with a warm smile," I've done that so many times. I can't even count how many times James or Sirius had to walk down here to retrieve me."
"Really?" you giggle quietly, still very much sleepy and a little stressed.
"Yeah, really," Remus chuckles, too. "Now c'mon, let's get you to your dorm. I'll walk you there. Well, that is if you don't mind."
You shake your head. Indicating that you don't mind at all. Your cheeks go pretty pink as Remus and you start to walk towards the dorms.
You've always thought that Remus was so handsome, and so so smart. You'd never done anything about your crush, of course. Too scared to say anything. But that doesn't mean you haven't been admiring him. You have just-........from afar.
"Why were you in the library so late?" Remus asks to fill in the awkward quiet between you. And also he's a bit worried about you staying there until so late.
"Just studying, I couldn't figure out one assignment," you sigh. You still haven't figured it out, even if you stayed in the library for so many hours.
"The one for the potions?"
"Yeah," you admit in defeat," I've read everything I possibly could, but still i didn't find the answer."
Remus gives you a hesitant smile. You two are just a few steps from the dorms. You were walking too long in the awkward silence, and now the flowing conversation is about to end.
"I can give you the answer. I'll give it to you right away if you give me a second to look for it in my room," Remus instantly offers.
He's spent good few hours trying to find the answer too, so he understands how frustrating it can get. So he's very willing to give you the answer just so you don't go to bed with that on your mind. And also because he likes you, like a lot, and he would give you literally anything if you'd asked for it. He's down that bad for you.
"Really? I would really appreciate it, Remus," you say, happy about his help. You can't even think of how you could possibly thank him for it.
"Just give me a second," he turns towards his dorm, but he suddenly freezes halfway to the door.
Remus abruptly gets a better idea or well it depends on how well it goes. He just can't help his feelings for you any longer, and he needs to know what you feel, too. Even if he may get rejected, and end up with a broken heart.
Remus slowly turns around to face you again, a shy smile on his face.
"Or-r," he starts," we could go to Hogsmeade during the weekend, and I could explain it to you there. With something nice to eat and drink." Remus blurts it out in one breath.
Your eyes go very wide. Is Remus Lupin asking you out on a date or are you still very much asleep in the library, dreaming of this moment?
"L-like a date?" you sheepishly ask, blushing, and looking everywhere but him after your question.
"Yes. Exactly like a date." Remus states, looking nervous and hopeful at the same time.
You look up at him with a smile, you can't really believe that this is happening, " I think, I'd love that."
"Really?" Remus questions happily.
"Yes, really," you nod your head, sending a reassuring smile his way.
"Great. I can't wait," he tells you with a visible excitement.
"Me too," you admit bashfully.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow. We can sort out the time then. Goodnight, y/n," Remus says, giving you one more soft smile of his.
"Yes, tomorrow then. Goodnight to you too, Remus," you wave him goodbye, and quickly dissappear into your dorm before you can collapse on the spot from the way your legs have turned to jello.
You think you can hear pretty loud cheers of the Marauders as you head to change into your pyjamas. A shy giggle escapes your mouth when you think about Remus telling his best mates about your date, and them being so happy about it.
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nereidprinc3ss · 10 months
Text
behave
in which fem!reader REALLY wants spencer's attention while he's working
18+ (no smut but sex is talked about) warnings: mentions of sex, spencer grabs readers wrist to stop her from doing something but its not violent, reader is referred to as a girl, no use of y/n, um i think that's it WC: 870 a/n: i have damn near 40 pages of spencer WIP so im biting the bullet and posting some of it. also.. if you want a plot... babe this is not the place for you im sorry... ive never even heard of a plot actually. i dont know about rising and falling action... i dont believe in that. it sounds fake
It feels like Spencer has been at his desk for hours. 
And for hours you've been lounging on the couch, reading your book in silence so as to let him work. But you're becoming... antsy. Impatient. Every time you drop your book and stare at him, willing your white-hot gaze to draw his attention; nothing. He just keeps shuffling papers, signing, writing, reading reading reading. 
At ten, you give up.  
You make a show of slamming your book shut, sighing, slowly sitting up, stretching, standing, stretching again--when you turn your head, expecting your little performance to have at least earned a look from him; still, nothing. 
"Spence?" you ask, innocuously, as you round the couch and draw toward him carefully, slowly, on light feet. A display of faux innocence. It’s not that you intend to bother him, per se--you're just so bored. 
He hums in response, eyes still glued to his work as he searches for something among the mess of paper. 
You come to a stop in front of the mahogany desk, tracing the edge of it idly with wandering fingertips. 
"What are you looking at?" you ask, in reference to a photo he seems to now be studying intently.  
"Nothing you need to see," is his muttered response, quickly flipping the photo face down on the desk and picking up a form walled in migraine-inducing tiny black text. You watch the way he scans the paper, brow knitted, and eyes squinted, clearly not paying you very much attention. 
You move languidly around the desk, letting the wood drag against your hip the whole way, before reaching for the overturned photo--just to see what he'll do. 
Spencer catches your wrist, his grip gentle and warm but not without portent. "What did I just say, grabby?" 
Sadly, they're the most words you've gotten out of him since this afternoon. 
You sigh dramatically and drape yourself across his lap, looping your arms around his neck. To your initial satisfaction he shifts slightly to accommodate you--and then continues to look over your shoulder like he hardly notices the pretty girl on top of him. 
"When will you be done?" you purr, tracing his jaw with a finger.
"I'll be done when I'm done." 
God, he can be stubborn. 
"Can you be done any sooner than that?" 
"What do you think I'm going to say to that," comes his flat reply, still not sparing you a glance. You watch enviously as his eyes dart down the paper he's reading over your shoulder.  
"Then I'm staying right here until you're finished." 
"You can stay here if you can behave." 
You scoff, bunching the fabric on the back of his shirt in your fists. "What do you mean, if I can behave?" 
Finally, you hear Spencer set down his pen, and he leans back in his chair to regard you. His gaze finally on you is like an ice bath. You literally have to repress the urge to shiver under his evaluation; the slightly raised eyebrows, the line of his mouth a little harder than usual. His 'you know exactly what I'm talking about so don't play dumb' look. 
For a few tense seconds, you let your eyes dart between his, not wanting to break first. Unfortunately, you think that look of his could freeze saltwater.  
"Fine," you mutter, flushing when you look down at his shirt collar instead. If you're being reasonable, he probably is doing something important. You drag your gaze back up to his and see that his eyes have softened. 
"Thank you," he says, gentler, squeezing your leg before running his hand over it back and forth a few times. "I know I'm not being very fun today. When I'm done we can do whatever you want to do." 
The urge to say, 'whatever I want to do?' is strong, but you manage to bite your tongue as he reaches back over you to continue his work. Instead, you content yourself to lean against him, allowing his solidity and warmth to envelop you for some immeasurable stretch of time.  
Rain starts up, battering the windowpane and accented by deep rolls of thunder. The scratch of Spencer's pen on paper, the rustle of files, and the scent of patchouli and amber begins to lull you into a doze--a comfortable place between awake and asleep. It's the kind of comatose unconsciousness that bends and liquifies time, and you don’t even realize you fell asleep until you’re waking up. 
Spencer murmurs your name, brushing your hair carefully out of your face. "Did you fall asleep, angel?" His voice is soft, just above a whisper.  
"Mhm," you groan, rubbing your eyes. "How long has it been?" 
"A few hours," he sighs. "That file took a lot longer than it should have, I'm sorry." 
You're still bleary as you speak next; 
"The thing was sex." 
"What?" he laughs, rubbing your leg as you adjust yourself in his lap. 
"You said we could do whatever I wanted to do when you were done, and it was sex. But now I'm tired." 
"Let's get you to bed," he begins, "and revisit the sex idea in the morning. Does that work for you?" 
You smile against his shirt, eyes already fluttering closed again. 
"Mhm..." 
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kqiscr · 1 year
Text
KINKT☆BER WEEK ONE! ー MICHAEL KAISER
MY EYES ARE UP HERE
a pretty angel like you would look better on his thigh
warnings: corruption, thigh riding, hints of degradation + praise, kaiser is a warning by himself, use of fem pet names/afab anatomy, i know zero german, i haven't wrote smut in a hot minute so give me a chance
w/c: 2.7k
i am not responsible for any minors who interact | not proofread. ktober mtl
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"is there something wrong, mein liebling?" kaiser snapped his fingers in front of your face, his lips upturned in amusement as you jumped in surprise.
"huh? nothing's wrong," you quickly shook your head, embarrassed to have been caught red-handed.
not like it was your fault— he has to know about how distracting his gray sweatpants were. no matter where you tried to force your gaze, it always led back to the noticeable bulge in his pants.
although you've been dating kaiser for a few months now, things have never escalated past a few feathery touches as his fingers skimmed under your shirt while making out— or maybe a little grind from you here and there.
you wanted to see what he was hiding under that fabric, but you were too shy to. every time you would even remotely try to ask, it always led to your face heating up and you scurrying away, or you would drop the question last minute. he always teased you for being so "innocent".
he gave you a knowing look, obviously not believing your terribly said lie, but still reverted his attention back to the book he was reading.
knowing that he had the faintest idea of why you kept glancing his way, you decided to busy yourself on your phone— which also wasn't much help to distract you from how kaiser kept shuffling around, every movement making his dick print more prominent.
he had to be doing it on purpose at this point. every so often he would spread his legs a bit wider, place a hand on his thigh, and adjust his sweats. every single movement and rustle would cause you to peer at him through the corner of your eyes— not only in curiosity of what he was doing, but to see how the new angle would make the bulge look.
the more you thought about what was in his pants, the more you pressed your thighs together. your thoughts trailed off, the desperation of months of wanting him to bend you over something—anything— finally getting to you.
would he be mean and cocky, degrading you and mocking you at every chance he gets?
or would he be slow and caring, given the fact it would be your first time with him? would he praise you and give you what you would plead and beg for?
knowing him, you went with the former. not like you were complaining— you wanted him so bad you'd let him fuck you on the kitchen counter at this point. maybe even the floor.
"i'm starting to think you're a bit distracted," kaiser rasped. you were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't notice how he inched closer to you, his breath against your ear causing you to have goosebumps.
"am not!" you attempted to save yourself, hiding your face behind your phone and opening and closing random apps. maybe having the weather app open looking at the weather of a different country across the world didn't help your case.
"look at me, schatz." he placed his fingers under your jaw and angled your head to meet his piercing eyes.
you fidgeted with your hands, anticipating what he was going to say. but he didn't say anything, simply wrapped his hands around your waist and effortlessly placing you on his lap. you subconsciously throw your arms around his neck as you waited for him to say something.
"is there something you want from me?" he questioned, tilting his head to the side. you were still too awkward to answer his question, so you simply focused on the tattoo that was peeking out of his shirt's neckline, shaking your head slightly.
"are you going to answer me with words? or will i just have to force it out of you?" your eyes widened at the implications of his statement.
"what do you mean by that?" you soon found out, because he lifted you up slightly and placed you back down on one of his thighs, making sure that your legs were on either side of it,
"do you think i'm stupid, liebling? you think i wouldn't notice you staring like you wanted my pants off?" he could feel the way your thighs clenched around him at his statement as he smirked.
"i wasn't!" you were adamant on beating these allegations, although it would be nearly impossible. you were not only a terrible liar, but you were trying so hard not to move an inch. the pressure of his thigh on your cunt was getting unbearable, and you wanted him to do anything to relieve the heat that was building up.
he shuffled a little bit, bouncing his thigh in the process, leading a whine to escape your mouth. he froze for a moment before chuckling.
"pretty girl wants to get off my thigh, hm?" he raised an eyebrow as his voice lowered an octave. the sudden pitch change in his voice made your pussy throb.
hesitantly, you nodded. "please— want it so bad."
"that wasn't so hard to do, was it?" he slipped his hands under the waistband of your shorts. "now take these off."
you hurriedly took the pair of shorts off, and kaiser's eyes widened as he saw the lingerie you were wearing.
"and you weren't going to show me this, schatz?" he admired the way the shade of blue— the same color as the tips of his hair and tattoo— looked on your skin. "how mean."
before you could open your mouth to respond, he had already put you back on his muscular thigh, which was still covered by the gray fabric of his sweatpants.
his grip on your waist was sure to have you bruising as he slowly began to guide you to rock back and forth on his thigh. the friction wasn't much, but you don't remember the last time you had even bothered to touch yourself— paired with the fact that you were currently on top your insanely attractive boyfriend— his thigh felt like heaven.
you let out little whimpers and short moans that kaiser found cute. "feels good, yeah?" he asked as you began to put your hands on his shoulders and pick up the pace, trying to chase your high.
"so gooood," you moaned out, the way your cunt rubbed against the lingerie and the rough surface of his leg along with the occasional bounce of his thigh and encouragement he'd whisper into your ear.
"you look so good like this, i don't know why i didn't do this earlier," he frowned, watching the way you arched your back and leaned your head forward to meet the crook of his neck to muffle your sounds.
kaiser had always thought you were a relatively pure girl, not once hearing you say anything remotely dirty or insinuate having sex with him. for fucks sake, even the makeouts were tame enough. but having you on his thigh, not a thought behind those eyes except of how good it feels— he wanted to absolutely ruin you.
"never thought a pretty angel like you would want to drool all over my thigh." if you were in the right state of mind, you would've been mortified over the patch of wetness that was growing on his sweatpants, but right now it was the least of your worries.
he focused his attention on your neck, nibbling and biting until little blossoms of purple appeared all over, trailing down to your collarbone. his hands snuck under your shirt, unclasping your bra, earning a gasp from you. the cold from his hands made shivers run down your spine even as he toyed with your hardened nipples.
"wanna cum," you moaned out, feeling yourself get tired from doing all the work yourself. "help meee."
he felt his dick twitch in his pants as soon as you looked up at him with glossy, half-lidded eyes. he's dreamed of seeing you like this, and now that he had you like this right in front of him, he wasn't going to miss this opportunity.
"help with what? you can use your words." you only responded with a whine, mind still not foggy enough for you to shamelessly beg for him.
"p-please," you stammered, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him.
"please what? i still don't know what you need help with." you nearly scowled, trembling as he pressed his thigh harder against your covered cunt.
"i wanna cum so bad, kaiser pleaseee— wan' your help."
"now that wasn't so hard, was it schatz? of course i'll let a dirty girl like you get off on me." him putting it that way had you whining, but soon he had you moaning out his name, clawing at his clothed back.
"oh f-fuckfuckfuck, m' close!" you cried out.
"gonna make a mess for me angel? go ahead."
he watched as your hips spasmed and a drawn-out moan left your lips, helping you ride your climax out as eventually you slowed to a stop.
you look down, peering at how uncomfortable his pants seemed to be on him.
"mmm, jus' want you inside." you pleaded, a hand reaching over to palm him. he let out a hiss and looked conflicted— he was deciding if he should just fuck you right here on the couch or if he should take a moment to bring you to the bed.
deciding on the latter, he carried you bridal style to your bedroom. he let you lie on the bed as he took off his sweatpants, his boxers quickly following. you gaped at his sheer size.
"it won't fit," you complained. you, weren't exactly complaining, but you had no idea how he was even going to get past the tip.
"i just need to get you ready for me. it'll fit." he wasn't gonna lie, you whining about his size out of all things made his ego get even bigger than it already was. you nodded, trusting him.
"sloppy fucking cunt is so wet for me," he cooed as he pulled your panties to the side and slid a slender finger in. you squirmed as he began to curl his finger, adding another finger and picking up the pace. the lewd squelches echoed throughout the room.
he was prodding everywhere but your g-spot— it was on purpose, his enjoyment of not giving you what you wanted clearly written all over his face. maybe he'd make you beg for it again.
"nghh... gonna cum again," you mewled.
"you're not gonna fucking cum until i say so," he narrowed his eyes, blond and blue hair framing his face.
"wh-what?" you wailed as he pulled his fingers out, hands shooting out to stop him. "why'd you stoppp."
your slick covered his fingers, which he quickly lapped up in front of you. your face felt hot, the scene in front of you as obscene as he could make it. without a care in the world, he let out slurping sounds and snickered when he saw your flustered face.
"be patient," he glowered as he slapped his tip against your clit, teasing you as you whined. you furrowed your eyebrows, done with all his teasing.
your mouth shaped into an o-shape as you felt him slide himself in.
"shit... this pussy was made for me."
"wait-ah...you're too biggg..." you felt yourself getting dizzy over the feeling of him stretching you out, biting your bottom lip to prevent yourself from drooling all over the pillow.
"doing s'good for me." he bottomed out, and he had to physically stop himself from immediately pounding into you with the way you literally sucked him in and enveloped him. slowly he began to thrust into you, you gripping the sheets. the sheer length and girth of him was nothing like you've ever experienced before.
"ha-harder— faster...please," you trailed off as he sped up upon your request, not able to hold himself back from messing up your insides.
although it was your first time having sex with him, it was like he could just tell what made you feel good, what spots made you see stars upon stars, and what made you mind simply go blank.
kaiser was probably saying something to you, but you weren't able to understand anything, your brain dumb and unable to do anything but feel the dick that was burying into you.
"k-kaiserrr, feels too good," you felt tears pool at the corner of your eyes. "no more, no mo'"
"'no more, no more"' he mocked your moans. "you say that, but you're the one who keeps grinding back on my cock like the whore you are. didn't you just tell me to go faster?"
you didn't even notice how you were trying to move your hips back onto him— not like it would've changed anything. you would've lost it if he had actually heeded your pleas and stopped moving.
he suddenly flipped you over, making you face him as he threw your legs over his shoulders, nearly bending you in half. you looked up at him questioningly, meeting his darkened and dilated eyes.
without warning, he went back to his usual brutal pace, every thrust ending with a whine from you or a soft grunt from him. then he hit that spongey spot in you that had your vision go white. you let out an unusually loud moan that bordered a scream, and thats when kaiser knew he found what he was looking for.
"right here," he whispered under his breath as he began to bully his cock right into your g-spot, leaving you breathless and burying your head into your hands to muffle your moans. he used one of his hands to grab your wrists and pin them above your head.
"i want to hear those pretty moans of yours, liebling." you didn't even have the mind to be self-conscious anymore, you just wanted him to finally cum inside you.
oh, he loved the way that he made you dumber and dumber by the minute. he loved the way your gummy walls clenched around him. he loved the way his sweet little girl was crying and bumbling right under him. he loved everything about you.
he brought his head down to give you a quick kiss, feeling you try to get your hands out of his grasp.
"wanna feel you so bad," you pleaded, and he decided to let go, your glistening doe eyes convincing him. you immediately began to tug on his hair and then forced him down into another kiss— this time much more deeper and longer. he felt you bite on his lips, tongue brushing everywhere as the kiss was reduced to you just wanting to get as close as you can to kaiser, wanting to feel and taste as much as him as you could.
he pulled away to give you some air, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as you cried out.
"i t-think im gonna—"
"cum for me princess." his coaxing voice paired with the way he played with your clit finally brought you over the edge.
the way you almost sang his name when you came almost had him following right after you, but he wanted this to last as long as possible, even with the thick white ring that was making its way to the base of his cock.
the overstimulation was too much for you to handle, to the point where it was like you were silently screaming. it hurt, but it was too good.
"where should i cum, liebling?" his thrusts were becoming frantic and the pace was uneven, as if he was going feral. you could even swear you heard a whimper or two the closer he got to his climax.
"inside! insideinsideinside—" you babbled, wanting to finally feel him fill you up.
"f-fuck," his voice cracked as he rammed his hips into yours one last time, bringing you close as he hid his head into your chest to suppress any other sounds. you could swear that he skimmed your cervix.
after your cunt had finished milking him dry, both of you were breathing heavily, not saying a word. you assumed that kaiser was simply calming down before pulling out, but a nearly a minute passed and he never did.
"k-kaiser?" you quipped. your thighs were still trembling, and you could feel the mix of your fluids trailing out of your pussy. "are you gonna pull out?"
"did i ever say i was done?"
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sorry lol i actually hate this one
2K notes · View notes
thisonehere · 2 months
Text
The Lin Kuei boys find your diary and learn that you're in love with them
Mk Headkanons
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A/n: Here you are, the winner of my recent poll. Just a little fun headcanon while I work on another request. It should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.
Tags: MK1, Polls winner, invasion of privacy (but their hot so it's okay)
C/w: None
Bi-Han
This wasn't usually like Bi-Han, of all things the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was, invading someone's privacy wasn't one of them. Until today of course.
Today was the 4th time in a row that you were missing from your training session with him. He would've thought that being allowed to train with the Lin Kuei's very own grandmother would be considered an honor. Yet here he was, standing alone looking like a fool waiting for you.
Bi-Han does not like being stood up, especially not by you. You whom he holds in such a high regard. He has so much respect for, he is generally fond of you, he feels things for you he can't even explain. So he goes to look for you, bringing him to your room.
He enters with even knocking, you don't deserve such a thing with how many times you stood him up. When he sees you aren't here he turns to leave, still eager to find, to let you know how hurt furious he is by your actions.
But before he can make it to the door, he sees something at the corner of his eye. A book. No, not just any book. Your diary.
Bi-Han thinks such things are stupid, and a waste of time. Nonsense made for children not adults. Surely anyone who partakes in this are ridiculous...But...this is your diary, and he doesn't think your ridiculous or a child at all.
He picks it up, showing care as he holds it carefully in his hands. He inspects from front cover to the back with a perplexed curiosity. Why would anyone have this? Why would you have this? He holds you in such a high regard that he views such trivial things as beneath you. What could be so important you would need have your very thoughts and deepest darkest secrets left on paper.
He knows his brothers wouldn't hesitate to open it and read. But not him though. Because unlike them he has restraint, he has strength, he has-
Bi-Han starts flipping through the pages. There has to be something in here that explains why you've so distant and absent lately. His eyes scan each and every word like they have a sacred meaning.
He especially looks for parts where you talk about him. Surely you will speak with utmost respect for your grandmaster. Maybe you explain why you've been avoiding him too.
Eventually he finds a part where you bring him up, he completely ignores the part where you talk about his brothers and goes straight t6o part where he is involved.
He takes notice with how you talk about him. You talk about how you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were near him, the way he made your heart race, the fear you had that he'd notice you blushing, how much you loved him, you wanted to be with him until the end of all time. You then go one to say the dirtiest, the most depraved things he has ever read in his life about him.
But Bi-Han reads on. He takes note of all the nasty things you'd like him to do to you. Part of him is slightly appalled. The other is very amused.
After staring at it for a while, Bi-Han clears his throat and sits the book back to where he found it and leaves.
From that point on, you can't help but notice that Bi-Han has been staring at you whenever you were in the same room. He is noticeably more patient with you than he was before. In fact, it's almost like he's being nice to you.
He has never really thought of you in such a manner before, but now, now you have his interest.
Kuai Liang
Like his brother, Kuai is a man very respectful of other people's privacy...sort of. Kuai will respect your privacy most of the time, he'll try to at least.
Kuai had been looking for you all day, he wanted to talk to you about a very private Lin Kuei business. He also wanted to see you again, just hearing your voice made his day better. But you were just friends so he never told you about it because then that would make things weird.
Kuai gets to your door and gently knocks before he enters. He happily calls your name as he enters. When he sees that you aren't present he disappointedly turns to leave. But he catches something in the corner of his eye.
He goes to pick it up, he doesn't really know what it is at first. He's not as familiar with concpt as Bi-Han and Tomas. So he opens it and starts reading. It doesn't take him long to figure out what it is after reading the first page.
After that something clicks and he goes to put it down and leave. Or that is at least what he wants to do. He is so tempted to continue that he has to remind himself how wrong thus is.
To continue reading is wrong. It's a violation of you, one of his closest friends. Besides, he is an honorable man, he believes in duty and respect and-
Anyway, now he is sitting on your bed reading through your diary like it's the Bible. He's basically halfway through the books so he convince himself that it's far too late to turn back now.
He is specifically interested in reading what you have to say about him. So he flips ahead to a writing log where you mention him. Kuai takes a deep breath before reading, he generally hopes you like him.
You talk about how nice you think Kuai is, how cool, also hot he is. Pun intended.
It took Kuai a few seconds to process what you just said. He reads on, finding more writing logs about him and they all say similar things about how attracted you are to him. He gets one specific one where you were talking about all the things you liked about him.
Kuai was overwhelmed with all this affection you had on paper for him. At the end, you confess that you have feelings for him, that you were in love with him.
Kuai couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was on paper in front of him yet he still couldn't believe it. He sets the book back where he found it and quickly leaves your room.
The next coming days were tough for him. Whenever he looked at you, all he could think about was your words. He was still in shock, this all felt so unreal. He stares into your eyes and wonders how long you felt this way, if you still feel this way.
He wants to come up to you, tell me that he feels the same way. But that would also mean he'd have to confess about reading your diary. Would you be forgiving if he tells you? Maybe, you'll just need time to forgive.
He will just fantasize about the potential future he could have with you if everything goes. Please, Elder gods of you're listening, let things go well.
Tomas
Tomas is a sweetheart, that is known. But he is also a very nosey sweetheart. Unlike his brothers, Tomas is a very curious person. That often is much to his and others slcurgrine
He comes to your room with the hopes of being able to hang out with you. Kuai and Bi-Han were always so busy so it was often you two who hung out the most.
Tomas enjoys the time he spent with you. Bi-Han and Kuai can often be pretty intense for him to be around, so he finds comfort with being just with you.
After knocking a few times he enters, much to his disappointment you aren't here. He goes to leave hoping to find you, until he notices your diary. It caught his attention the single second he laid eyes on it. He immediately recognizes what it is, he has one himself.
The thoughts of opening and reading all your dark and dirty secrets pop into Tomas's head instantly. I can't, he thinks. How could I possibly do this to you? I would be violating your personal space. There could be something in there that is really embarrassing, or be about your deepest darkest desires, maybe even someone you might have a crush on.
Tomas tries to fight off the temptation to read it, but he fails. He carefully picks up the book and opens it. Already he feels filthy with guilt.
He begins to look through it, every page feels like a sin to read, but he couldn't stop reading. The thrill of it all kept him going to the point that he already got through almost half of the book. He laughed at your most embarrassing stories, he felt sad when you expressed any tragedy or hardship you faced, he felt overjoyed at your victories.
He felt pretty good...until you began to talk about him and his brothers. At this point he got nervous at what you could potentially think about him and his brothers, especially him. It was pretty standard things, you thought Kuai was nice, Bi-Han was a hothead, and you thought Tomas was cute...wait...
Tomas's eyes grew ten inches wide at this. What? N-No, that's all wrong he has to read it again. Cute? What do you mean cute? Cute as in nice, o-or as in attractive. Surely you meant as in kind.
He flips forward, finding another log where you talked about him. Here you go into much more detail about how you felt towards Tomas, how much you loved, the way he made useful so giddy, you just wanted to plant kisses him all over his cute little face.
Tomas, jaw on the floor and eyes wide opened to the point of almost popping out, couldn't believe what he was reading. He cheeks were turning red with blush and he was without words as he continued reading. Okay, now he really regrets reading this.
In a panicked state, Tomas throws your book somewhere and runs out of your room.
The next few days were hell for Tomas. He felt like such a horrible friend. He betrayed your trust and privacy, and now he knows that you're in love with him. He feels horrible whenever he sees and remembers what he's read, how he invaded your privacy.
As he continues, Tomas can't help but think of you differently now. He fears that he's falling in love with you now. He thinks. He doesn't know.
Gods, he just wishes he never opened that book. Now he has developed feeling for you in such a rapid pace, he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he'll just have to confess to reading your diary.
He plans too eventually, the guilt eats him up every day. He just needs to work up the courage to do so. Hopefully you won't hate him, please don't hate him.
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aesthet · 5 months
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Sweet Spot 𓍢ִ໋🀦
Alhaitham x fem!reader
contents: squirting, fingering, small story before smut, curious Alhaitham, mind fucked reader, bottom reader x top alhaitham
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Alhaitham wasn't interested in sex until he met you. Well it was a book to be exact, a 'How to' sex book that he came across in a bazaar held in the city of wisdom.
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"Book sale! Book sale! 40℅ off!" A man yelled promoting his books. The scribe isn't the type of person to go down town and be surrounded by people, but when he heard they sell books from all across Teyvat he just can't help but check it out.
While Kaveh wonders in the furniture section, the Scribe found himself between piles of books. He was looking around when he came across a book, quite a thick book but somehow light. The cover shows a hand, holding what seems to be a peach with the title 'Ladies' favorite secret',
"a cliche title" He mumbled when the merchant that's selling these books appeared behind him.
"Ah~ I see you're a cultured man, hm? " He wiggles his eyebrows, but after not seeing any reaction from the taller man he immediately cleared his throat and continued with his words "Pardon me friend-- are you interested in this book? "
But before Alhaitham could reply, the merchant continued his words "This book is written by a quite famous author amongst the ladies and she decided to help the men out here." The merchant then took a deep breath and held the book infront of Alhaitham's face "With this hand painted cover she presented a book to make your girlfriend happy! " The merchant smiled widely, and again after faced with an expressionless face, the merchant laughs awkwardly. "O-or partner, I don't judge!" the merchant said, thinking Alhaitham was offended by his words. But after not receiving any reaction he decided to change the topic.
"Say, friend? Care to take the book home with you? It's 40% off and your-"
"I'll take it" Alhaitham cut short
"What?" The merchant blinked a couple of times
"Need i repeat myself?" Alhaitham said, accidentally intimidating the poor merchant.
"O-oh! that wou;dn't be necessary. Uhm, Is there anything else? " The merchant fixes his wrinkled top, cold sweat trickling down his neck.
"No" He replied, though there was also another book that caught his eye. It was a Kama sutra, but he doesn't need it. For now that is, after all the bazaar will be going on for two weeks. Plenty of time
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A few days passed by and you noticed him being more bold, with his movements. Such as; helping you from behind when cutting a certain fruit, reaching for a book on the top shelf, getting a blanket from the closet and pressing himself against you while doing so, pulling you closer by the waist, and even taking a shower together more often. Teasing you, giving you bedroom eyes and a not so subtle hints.
So it's not surprising when you start to become more flustered around him and that made you overthink things. But those thoughts stopped when one day, you were cleaning the house and when you're dusting the bookshelves, you found a book that you've never seen before and after reading a little bit of the book. You can't help but wonder 'is this really him that bought this-'
"What are you doing? " The familiar voice cuts off your thoughts, making you flinch. "Alhaitham, you scared me" sighing after realizing it's just him. He walks over to you, towering you making you feel small. He looks down to see which page you were on "'How to find the sweet spot" he said, smirking slightly.
You looked down, realizing you're still holding the book and on page 69, coincidentally. So when you look up at him with a nervous smile along with an awkward chuckle only to be greeted by Alhaitham's eyes that are filled with something you've never seen from him. A wanting gaze.
"Want me to touch it for you, doll?" He leans in, kissing you. And after you agreed. He immediately puts you in a position, making your back lean against his broad chest as he holds your legs open as he bury his skilled digits in your cunt, curling it upwards and deep hitting your sweet spot. "Ah! Alhaitham--" you whined when his fingers dug deep into you, feeling it in your abdomen and a you writhed around feeling sensitive.
He hummed "Is this it? the sweet spot?" he mumbled to himself, learning your insides and taking notes of what makes you whine and shake like a leaf. "H-hah~ Alh-Haitham-" You moaned holding his wrist, feeling something build up in your abdomen. At this point you're drunk on his fingers, buried really deep in you and reaching spots that you can't reach with your own fingers. And after realizing the feeling that is in your abdomen is similar to the feeling you feel when you're about to pee. You panicked and try pushing his fingers away, only to have your wrist held by his other hand "W-wait, 'haitham! I-" he shushed you, his face beside your ear looking at the way his fingers pump in and out of your tight cunt.
He lets out a pleased, leaning in to your ear and nibbled on your ear "It's okay, no need to hold it in. Just let it out" You shake your head, scared at what's a bout to happen. Creaming around his two fingers, you begin to feel that you can't hold it in anymore and you told him "I-i can't it's too much!--angh~" he fondled your nipple through your shirt with the hand he used to grip your hand earlier. He shushes your whines with a kiss, swallowing every noise that comes out of your mouth.
With whines and moans filling up the room, you finally did what he said and finally let go that feeling building up in your abdomen. And when you did it felt like you blacked out for a few seconds, exhaling and letting out a relieved moan. You didn't realize you've squirted, and slouched against his chest. Alhaitham saw the big gush that sprayed from your pretty cunt, he was surprised and amazed that his doll can do such a thing!. That left you shaking and a whimpering, sweaty mess. Alhaitham then sat up and looked at your face again, then something inside him clicked. So without missing a beat he pushed two fingers in and began to massage your sweet walls
"A-hah! A-wait! I'm still sensi-tive! " You whine, writhing against the sheets and trying to push away his hand. But he only pushed away your hand and pressing down on your stomach. That resulted with a loud moan being ripped away from you. Despite your efforts of trying to push him away, you can't help but enjoy it and soon you became a mumbling mess., cumming again not long after.
He looked down to see your flushed face, too drunk on the feeling of his fingers. He tuts at your adorable face, in the midst of your heavy panting he pulled out his fingers and licking his fingers clean. "I didn't know you can be so messy" he said, easily changing your position.
"Wait, what are you doing?" you asked him and he replied with a chuckle "Oh? so you thought i was done with you?" he asked you with a smug smirk. That alone tells you that you're going to be here for awhile.
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earlycuntsets · 13 days
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11/23/2004 gerard's interview from coffee with cojo on artsucks.com
"It's really cool when people you know, and knew from obscurity become famous in a field you would have never guessed that they were even involved in.
Here is some back story. . .My freshman year of college (SVA) I became fast friends with this kid named Gerard Way. It was our "foundation year" where they lump students into "general blocks" of courses, reguardless of major. The people you are grouped with, you are stuck with, because they will be in about seventy percent of your classes your foundation year. Being that Gerard was a cartooning and illustration major with a line-art-cartoonish-comic-book style, and I had been working at Marvel Comics for the past two years; we had a lot in common. He was actually a really good cartoonist (One of the top in our class).
Well, Gerard was best friends with this guy Todd. Todd was a funny guy, but I didn't really hang around with him. I was a DJ for our school's radio station (WSVA) at the time and I was dating this girl Cheryl.
A few months later I broke it off with Cheryl. . .Time passed and somewhere along the line (I can't remember how long exactly) Todd started seeing Cheryl. Of course that's when Todd would want nothing to do with me (being that he was with Cheryl now), and it's also where I lost touch with Gerard (Naturally, he being Todd's best friend and all).
Well, I would run into Gerard in school over the years from time to time, and I remember seeing one of his cartoons printed in "THE BIG BOOK OF THE WEIRD WILD WEST" which was part of one of my favorite graphic novel series' (THE BIG BOOK OF).
Then in 2003 sometime I ran into Gerard walking down Third Avenue right off of St. Marks Place. I hadn't seen him in like seven years and his name slipped my mind, but I was sure it was him.
I followed him, he was going pretty fast "MARK!" I yelled to him, and he turned around. He looked at me with the expression of searching one's memory to place a face.
"Cojo?" He said, then corrected me "It's Gerard by the way, where did you get Mark from?"
"I don't know, maybe St. Marks? I was just drawing a blank on your name, I'm sorry, but I knew it was you and I had to stop you, how ya been man?" I asked.
I rarely run into old classmates so I offered to buy him a cup of coffee. We were right in Cooper's Square so we hit a Starbucks (If you've never been in Cooper's Square, you will be amused to learn that there are three Starbucks Coffee shops within sight of one another. . .it's really freakish).
I paid for his coffee and we shot the shit. He blew my mind telling me that he's the lead singer for a band called "MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE" and that they just got back from touring Europe. What the fuck? A far cry from cartooning.
I told him about all the weird work I've been doing. It's so rare that I actually run into someone from school who is successful and doing something they love. It was really refreshing. I took a few photos of him as we talked. I'm weird with documenting things- as if you haven't noticed.
We left Starbucks and kept shooting the shit. Having nothing to do he decided to join me for the rest of the afternoon. We walked over to the Virgin Megastore on 14th and he pointed out the magazines his band had been spotlighted in and what music he's into and what not.
It was funny cause he's like: "We're in Alternative Press all the time" and I was like, "Hey, I worked for A.P., I did stuff for the Warped Tour a few years back and actually visited their office in Cleveland!" (-author's note: you will read about this Cleveland trip in the past updates after the site hard launches in Feb-). It was cool cause we knew the same peeps.
I showed him the magazines I was in, and turned to the pages to show him the artwork. One neat thing about being in magazines is that you have a mini portfolio of your work at any magazine shop you walk into in the country.
Well, he invited me to see his band perform at THE KNITTING FACTORY the next week. I told him I would try to make it, but I was really slammed with work so I probably wouldn't be able to make this one, but I'd really like to do an interview with him or him and the band sometime where I could record our conversation.
Like just hang out and shoot the shit with them (cause he's just a down to earth Jersey born kid like myself) and pitch it to magazines afterwords, accompanied by a portrait I would do of their members. He was like: "Man, I wish you had a tape recorder on you now, the stuff I've been saying is good shit, totally printable shit!" And he was right, I really was digging at him about what happend that got him to make the transition from art into music and was getting the "real" answers, not the way a rockstar talks to a reporter, but the way an old bud you goofed off with in drawing class and you haven't seen in years talks to you.
I told him I'd look out for his band in the mags and if I saw something or could help em' out I'd spotlight it or give him a buzz. He thanked me for payin' for the Starbucks and then I caught a train uptown.
Well, September Maxim's Blender did a whole page on MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, showcasing them as the next big thing. Then last week I was out with my girl and we walked by a magazine rack, and on the cover of AP (Alternative Press) was Gerard and his band in some serious Rigamortis style dead make-up.
"No SHIT!" I exclaimed, and picked it up. I explained to Tracy (my girlfriend) the story of how I knew this guy. That night I was flipping through the channels and I came upon MTV and what the fuck, there was a MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE video! Same day as I saw the cover! The song was catchy as hell. I couldn't believe it. I was like: "No crap. . . they are gonna be huge!" Just after their song, a yellow card video started. I guess that's their genre. I asked Ink's brother (17 year old semi-pro skateboarder) Mikey if he knew of My Chemical Romance. He told me he's a fan, has their albums. I asked Jain, and she was like, "Um yeah, they are actually a really popular band! They've been out for a while."
So I guess this update is long overdue, and so is a congrats to Gerard. Keep kickin' ass man! Next time you are back in town, give me a buzz.
Just another day in the life of an Art Juggernaut.
-Cojo"
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awxcoffeexno · 1 month
Text
the patient - part 4
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toxic!loganhowlett x reader
cherry wine
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<< part 3 | series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 5 >>
summary: you and bobby are doing great but logan makes amends (he tries his damned best)
content: bobby and reader are having a grand old time but logan is suffering terribly at the hands of jean and he cannot seem to catch a break. reader is also extremely delulu towards the end.
warnings: 18+, mdni, apology sex, piv, lots of endearments used during sex, angsty sex, gentle sex, you'll-want-to-scream-at-reader-sex, all mentions of jean are actually referring to the phoenix who is extremely mentally unstable.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this was initially going to be the last part but I think I have some ideas + if you have any pls let me know because this has potential, especially w bobby
the days that follow are thick with tension between you and logan.
you’ve put distance between yourselves, trying to avoid each other as much as possible.
you spend more time with bobby, and it's so easy with him. bobby’s sweet and patient, his presence a balm for the wounds logan left behind.
often you have snow fights in the ground with bobby and his friends, other times you curl up and watch a silly nicholas sparks movie or two.
and,,, the sex is pretty good too. bobby might not have near two centuries of experience but if it's a good dicking down you need, he's happy to provide. plus he does this thing with ice… just thinking about it makes heat pool in your core.
"oi!" he says, finding you in the library on a particular chilly morning.
it's warm in here and emily brontë makes for great company.
you laugh as he scoops you up off the bean bag you're sitting on, pressing you against the wall and stealing a kiss. and then another. and then another.
"bobby!" you hiss. "what if one of the kids walk in?!"
"mmm…" he moans softly into your mouth, sliding his cool tongue against yours. "then it'll be a surprise biology lesson."
you smack his arm and he laughs, finally setting you down.
"emily brontë?" he asks, taking the book from you, careful to slide his finger into the pages so you don't lose your spot.
"ye, you like?"
"i love." he replies, flopping down next to you and opening the book, reading out loud from where you've left off.
yeah. it's so easy with bobby.
meanwhile, in the other wing of the mansion, logan’s world is crumbling. jean’s power over him is overwhelming, even the professor is struggling to reign her in, and in her attempts to bring logan closer, she’s slowly unraveling him.
she pushes him, tries to draw out the animal within, thinking she can control it, harness it. but logan isn’t a tool, and the strain of resisting her is breaking him apart.
you hear whispers from the other students, talk of how logan’s been snapping at everyone, his temper shorter than ever. even the mansion’s teachers, who are used to his rough edges, are keeping their distance. you’re not immune to the rumors, and each one is a reminder that despite everything, you still care about him deeply.
even so, during this time, logan tries to make it up to you, in his own way. he doesn’t apologize directly—he’s too proud, too stubborn for that—but you notice the small things he does. he leaves a cup of your favorite tea on your desk one morning, the steam still rising from the cup when you find it.
and the best part of it all is that he’s careful not to intrude on your time with bobby, even though you often catch him watching the two of you with a conflicted expression.
there’s even a day when you find a small bouquet of wildflowers left on your bed, the note simply reading, “you deserve better.”
it’s clear that he’s struggling with his emotions, trying to make amends in the only way he knows how. but you’re hurt, and you’re not ready to forgive him yet. you tuck away each gesture, each unspoken apology, knowing that it doesn’t erase the pain he caused.
the tension between you two remains, a storm waiting to break. the nights are the hardest for logan. jean’s attempts to mould him into something he’s not have pushed him to the edge, and he’s barely holding on.
he's begun spending his nights alone, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. he's too overwhelmed by jean and obviously, he can't have you anymore. the mansion feels like a cage, and he’s trapped within it, suffocating under the weight of his own thoughts.
night after night he takes this until it becomes too much.
you’re lying in bed, trying to distract yourself with a book, when there’s a soft knock at your door. you hesitate, knowing who it is before you even open it. you felt him decide several minutes ago and the nausea of the wait has you shaking.
when you open the door, logan is standing there, looking more broken than you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are red-rimmed, dark circles under them, and he’s trembling slightly, as if he’s barely holding himself together. and he's sopping wet. you hadn't even realised it was raining but by god, he's drenched.
“logan,” you breathe, your heart clenching at the sight of him. he smells awfully strongly of whiskey and tobacco.
“i can’t… i can’t do this anymore,” he says, his voice raw with emotion. there’s no pretense, no walls between you, just the man you’ve always known, stripped down to his most vulnerable self.
you let him in, closing the door softly behind him. logan’s presence fills the room, but it’s not the usual intensity you’re used to. tonight, he’s fragile, on the brink of breaking. he stands in the middle of your room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as if he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart.
without a word, you step forward and take his hand. he flinches at the contact, but then he grips your hand tightly – too tightly – his eyes closing as if he’s drawing strength from you.
you lead him to your bed, and the two of you sit down side by side. logan’s head drops, and he lets out a shaky breath.
“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, the words so soft you almost don’t hear them. “i’m sorry for everything.”
your heart aches at the sincerity in his voice. this is what you’ve been waiting for — an acknowledgment of the pain he caused you, of the way he hurt you. but seeing him like this, so broken, makes it hard to hold onto your anger.
you don’t say anything, just carefully climb into his wet lap, letting him know that you’re here, that you haven’t given up on him. you can feel the water start to seep through your clothes but you cannot bring yourself to care.
logan leans his head against your shoulder, the weight of it comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. you can feel the tension slowly leaving his body as he relaxes against you, and for a moment, the world outside doesn’t exist. it’s just the two of you, sitting in the dark, finding solace in each other’s presence.
“been an ass,” he mutters, his voice rough. “didn’t mean what i said. never wanted to hurt you.”
you swallow the lump in your throat and nod, even though he can’t see it. “i know,” you whisper. “but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.”
logan sighs, his breath warm against your neck. “just don’t know how to fix this,” he admits. “but i want to try.”
the vulnerability in his voice tugs at something deep inside you, and you feel your resolve weakening. “logan… i don’t know if we can go back to how things were.”
you think back to bobby. and then you quickly wipe the thought away. if you dwell on it too much, you'll sabotage everything all at once.
“i’m not asking for that,” he says quickly, sitting up to look at you. his eyes are dark, filled with a mixture of regret and hope. “i just… i just want to be close to you again. i need you.”
it’s those last three words that break through your defenses. you’ve spent so long longing for logan to admit that he needs you, that he cares about you beyond the fights and the tension. hearing him say it now, when he’s at his lowest, feels like a lifeline – for both of you.
you take a deep breath, knowing full well you're probably making a mistake. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”
something in his eyes shifts, and for the first time in days, you see the man you fell for. he leans in, hesitating for a moment, giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t. when his lips meet yours, it’s gentle, almost tentative, as if he’s afraid of breaking you.
but you’re not broken. not anymore. and as you kiss him back, you let go of the anger, the hurt, and the frustration. all that’s left is the two of you, finding comfort in each other in the only way you know how.
the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense, as if both of you are trying to erase the pain with every touch. logan’s hands are on you, pulling you closer, his need for you palpable in every movement. there’s no hesitation now, no doubt—just the overwhelming need to be with each other, to find that familiar comfort in the only way that makes sense.
when you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, your hearts racing. logan looks at you, his expression torn between relief and fear. “i need you,” he repeats, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“i’m here,” you say again, and this time, you mean it in every possible way.
logan’s hands slide up your back, pulling you against him as he presses his forehead to yours. he slips them under your shirt and undoes your bra hook in a quick practiced movement.
"lo…" you whisper needily, pushing your fingers into his wet hair.
bobby was good— hell, bobby was great but with logan this is just something else. it always will be.
"i know, pretty girl. i'll take care of ya." he soothes, pulling your shirt and bra off you gently.
he lips are on your neck within a second, giant paws coming up to palm your breasts roughly. he groans when you rock your hips against his, squeezing your waist to still you.
"patience," he commands, only letting go when he's sure you'll listen.
carefully, he sinks his teeth into your neck again, perfectly in the spot that he knows makes you wild. you whine his name and it makes him smile against your skin.
"missed me, sugar?"
"so badly, lo! fuck…" you trail off as he moves his mouth down to suck a pink bruise into the soft flesh of your breast.
and then he's tugging on the waist of your jeans, pulling them over the swell of your butt, taking your panties with them.
"fuck, baby, look at you. making such a mess already." he runs his fingers through your lips and holds them up to show you, your sticky need webbing between his fingers.
he puts them in his mouth, sucking the nectar off and pulling them out with an obscene pop. it would make you blush but logan's said and done much worse with you.
"logan, please… been too long…"
"i know, sugar, i know. just wait."
his mouth is on yours then, and the mix of his tobacco and your need makes you moan as he eats your mouth out. sex with logan is always filthy, it's hot and messy and you're desperate for more.
he makes you sit up so that he can pop his belt off, the buckle hitting the floor with a clink as he shuffles his jeans off. his cock pops out, ramrod straight and red with need. how long has it been since he's found relief? you ache for him and with your need for him.
"c'mon, babygirl, sit," he directs, guiding you onto his cock. you're slick enough that your pussy starts swallowing him instantaneously.
"attagirl…" he groans, going back to suckling on your neck, making you mewl and whimper.
he tugs you further down, his grip on your waist bruising. lower and lower you sink down on him, walls fluttering around his girth as you moan his name helplessly. his cock is big, always too big, and it makes you bury your face in his neck. but his hold on you is unrelenting, holding you in place until he's balls deep in you.
"logan, please… please…" you beg, desperate to get him moving. having him like this, so fully in you, is overwhelming.
"look at me, angel," he encourages, voice uncharacteristically soft.
your eyes struggle to fix on his, but you manage with a shaky breath.
it takes him a moment to collect his own thoughts before it hits you what he's going to say next and it takes your breath away.
quickly, so he beats your vision to the point, he whispers, "i love you."
and fuck. the vision took your breath away but hearing him actually say it out loud makes you tear up and bury your face in his neck.
the moment is so raw, his furnace hot body making you sticky with sweat. his eyes burn holes into you with such genuine intensity, you get so desperately overwhelmed.
realising how much he's affected you, he gets you moving. he always knows what to do with you, even when you're crumbling. rolling your hips together, he kisses you deep and raw.
"let it go, baby, let it all go. i've got you." he encourages, making you pick up speed, his hands moving you steadily.
so you do. you finally, truly, let yourself go. you feel 19 again, letting logan take you like he did for the first time in that hotel room in the middle of bumfuck, nowhere.
it doesn't take him long, grunting in your ear, to get you to the edge. he feels the telltale squeezing of your walls and sees your eyes roll back into your head and knows right away.
"just like that, pretty girl… come for me, just like that."
you slump in his arms, falling over the edge and letting him help you ride your high. you pant into the crook of his neck, entirely spent, moaning happily when his climax follows yours.
he tips back carefully, holding you to his chest and pressing soft kisses into your hair.
"i'm sorry," he murmurs, rubbing your back soothingly. "i love you."
your eyes snap up to him, narrowing, but his are closed and he doesn't see you. you try to read his mind and see if he means every last word of it. it isn't for the lack of trying but logan's gotten awfully good at blocking you out in the last few weeks.
so you take a deep breath and just like that, you forget everything about bobby and believe him. you believe him.
--
helloooo, sorry about the delay on this one, i'd written it a week ago but wanted to make some edits (I never made them TT).
pls lmk if y'all have any requests for this one!!
love, d <3
--
<< part 3 part 5 >>
taglist: @beeingaflower, @uhnanix, @kokomixxk, @nighwingsdiscordkitten, @iluvloganhowlett, @reidsworld , @aleynaleia , @gboy2008 , @thegirlfromthemovies , @swthxrry , @mattymurderdocks , @malfoys-demigod , @angelcvts4u , @chxrrybomb22 , @coolio2195 , @fictionalmen-dilflover , @twinkleteaparty , @gracierae18, @brucebannerswifey , @evasmlp , @m1cky-y-y, @deaky-with-a-c, @capswife , @abarelyexistentbeing , @seasonofthenerd , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @theoraekenslover , @starbuni , @fandomhopped , @techwrecker , @oakenshieldlover
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fangisms · 1 year
Text
did you hear?
A/N: i just think he’s so lover.
gif creds: @qveenofthorns
Pairings: Neville Longbottom x Popular!Fem!Reader
Summary: Neville Longbottom accidentally starts a raunchy rumor about the popular girl in his potions class. And rumors fly. 1.0k words.
Warnings: ‘snogging’ help im not british and it shows, rumors, allusions to sex/promiscuous acts, teasing, pining, strangers/friends to lovers
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Somehow Neville started a rumor about you. And somehow, through the unbelievably slippery walls of Hogwarts, the rumor made its way to you in less than a week.
It was an accident, honestly. And people kept blowing it way out of proportion. You were popular, more popular than he could ever hope to be, and when he said it, he had already accepted that nothing would ever really happen between the two of you. But this awful rumor made him sound boorish and borderline rabid when really it was supposed to be a harmless confession between friends.
"I heard Neville Longbottom wants to shag you out by the Quidditch pitch."
Even from a few tables down, he could see the mortification fall over your face like a black veil. Your friend giggled as she pulled away from whispering in your ear, and you clapped a hand over your mouth. He had to look away when your eyes flicked to meet his. Your friends spend the rest of lunch hour teasing you and snickering about him while you seem to shrink in on yourself.
Neville manages to avoid you where he can in the halls: taking the longer route, hiding in large groups. But none of it is very fruitful when you've got a very similar class schedule. In fact, despite his efforts, he spends nearly every passing period just behind you and sometimes even right beside you. Apparently, he's also got a clear shot of you from where he sits in the classes you share and you're even table mates in potions. Of course, he knew all of this before that nasty rumor was spread, he's just become hyperaware of it since then.
After making it through the week without too much tension, he finds himself scanning the pages of his Water Plants textbook in the Great Hall and not retaining any of the information. And as he props his chin in his hand, he notices you settle into the seat directly across from him, flashing him a quick smile before opening your own book.
He sits up, glancing around the room to find Snape preoccupied with a group of raucous students from Slytherin.
A small, crumpled piece of parchment rolls its way to your side of the table, stopping just before it topples over the edge. You set your book in your lap and look over your shoulder before unraveling the torn paper.
"I'm assuming you've heard the news by now."
A smile creeps onto your face as you flatten out the slip of paper and write your own message on the backside. You slide it across the table and just barely catch his eye.
"Here and there."
But he knows you mean just about every five seconds because this cursed rumor has been inescapable for as long as its existed. You slide the cover of the Hogwarts Gazette over as well. It's entitled, "Things Heat Up Between Popular Witch and Nerdy Wizard" just above a picture of the two of you smiling at each other in class with a few smaller headlines like, "The Rumors are True!" and "What's Next for the Unlikely Couple?"
He blinks. Who's reading this rubbish? Scratch that, who's writing this rubbish and how hard would it be to mame them?
"I'm sorry about that, it was supposed to be an inside joke. Honestly, I would never say something that awful in the first place. And especially not about you."
You give him a sympathetic smile and crumple the page and his note into a ball before sending back a new slip.
"I know."
He half-smiles before attempting to read again. But you toss him another scrap of paper.
"So what did you say then?"
You giggle when he flushes a bright pink before squinting at you and scribbling across the page.
"Something or other about wanting to snog a certain pretty girl. It was never meant to go past first base, honestly. Pure intentions!"
You shove the used paper in your pocket and glance over your shoulder with a mischievous look before delicately folding another piece and setting it in the center of his textbook. He opens it. But he doesn't get the chance to read it before it's snatched out of his grasp by a pale hand.
"Mr Longbottom," Snape drawls, "would you care to read this aloud since you two have insisted on interrupting your fellow students' focus?"
You hide your giggles behind your hand and Neville glares at you while Snape ushers him into the aisle.
He looks down the note and groans.
"How about those Quidditch Pitch seats?"
...
"Very funny," Neville grumbles while you hold his shoulder to steady yourself from convulsing with laughter.
"Your face! You should have seen your face!" You tease, tears nearly streaming down your face when you clutch the sleeve of his sweater.
"You set me up," he says, trying not to smile when you purse your lips.
"You started a rumor about me!"
"On accident."
You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side. "Then yes. I set you up. On accident. Walk me to Trelawney's?"
He rolls his eyes and offers his arm for you to loop yours through. You walk beside each other in silence nearly half the way, dodging confused looks and bothersome jeers from your friends.
"So," you mumble, looking at him with a cocked brow, "you really think I'm pretty?"
Neville shrugs. "And snoggable, I suppose."
He looks down at you and thinks he's never acted so cool around someone he likes so much. He thinks you're more than pretty and he wants to be able to tell you, but as you round the corner, the open classroom leers at you like a slippery snake. He spares you one last look and you peer up at him like a little dove. He goes pink.
You stop in the doorway and beckon him closer. And you think the nearly contemptuous smile on his face is new and ill-fitting but he's handsome nonetheless. You hold his chin and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before ducking into the classroom.
"See you in potions, Neville."
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hochsleep · 5 days
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Relationship with Daryl Dixon (headcanons)
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This is my first experience writing headcanons, but I have a lot to say! And yes, I used a gif from Beth, but we don't support that pairing here, guys.....
Also, thanks to the author of the gif!
Pronouns: she/her (fem!reader) / (I'll do headcanons for Daryl's relationship for gender-neutral readers later on)
Pairing: Daryl Dixon/fem!reader (Y/N)
Warnings: no, not this time. Everything is decent (underage readers can read)
• Daryl Dixon is far from stupid. I mean, he can certainly tell the difference between romantic interest and friendly sympathy. He has Carol, his best friend, and he knows that he feels for her the kind of platonic friendly love he usually feels for a family member. But that's not the case with you. Sure, you've most likely known Daryl for a long time (assuming you joined Rick's group at any point from Atlanta to Prison, can pick at your discretion). So since you've known each other for a while, Daryl has had time to realize that his feelings for you are far from friendly. All the tenderness and care that he feels for you hardly compares to friendship. Daryl definitely didn't feel like kissing Carol's lips every time she came into his field of vision. That's the difference.
• But realizing your feelings is only halfway there. Daryl isn't the type to make the first move and declare his love. He's a very insecure person because of his past, so it would be hard for him to believe that someone like you would want someone like him. Daryl will just watch over you from the sidelines, he will make sure you are safe and will always be there to protect you. Even if it's just a harmless fall down the stairs when you were arranging jars of canned fruit on the top shelf in the Alexandria pantry. He will notice that the stepladder beneath you is wobbling dangerously and will be there to catch you and prevent you from bruising any part of your body. He will take great care of you.
• Daryl is probably the type of man who idolizes and admires the girl he's in love with. Both her character and inner world, as well as her looks. He would spend hours just looking at your unconditionally beautiful face. Every mole, every freckle, every wrinkle in the corner of your eyes when you smile. God, he could never get enough. Every part of you is perfect. Daryl's not sure he's ever seen a more beautiful woman. I mean, he probably had a soft spot for women he personally thought were pretty in the past, but it was never more than a glance in their direction. Just trying to say that Daryl isn't a pristine and innocent man who never thought about women. Over the many years of his maybe not the most prosperous life, Daryl has definitely had his fair share of beautiful women. But it had always been respectful. Mental admiration from the sidelines. Daryl never "barked" or "bit" like Merle. Daryl is much more respectful of women.
• That's why he likes to watch from the sidelines and think about you. A lot of thinking. Daryl is indeed a man of few words, but he has more than enough to think about. And when he falls in love, you become the center. Except when Daryl has to think about survival or when he and Rick are making a plan of action to save the group. But rest assured, all of Daryl's free time is spent thinking about you. He's very observant and remembers every little thing about you so he can think about it later. Do you like to read? Daryl will listen to you talk about your favorite books and find them during one of your outings, rest assured. Do you like wildflowers? Great, a bouquet of a hundred of them will be waiting for you on the doorstep of your Alexandria home when you come home after a hard day's work. Maybe you like a certain kind of clothing? Like something knit? Daryl will either find it during the outing or ask Carol to help with it when she's not busy. He won't say who it's for, but Carol certainly knows. And after you get those little gifts, Daryl will watch you smile widely because you know who left them under your door. And Daryl will think about your smile until he falls asleep at night. But he'll only dream about you, too.
• Somehow you were the first to admit your feelings because Daryl is actually cowardly about these things. A man can take on walkers or hostile people with his bare hands (like the Saviors), but he definitely can't just go and tell someone he really likes how he feels. No, you have to push him. And hints aren't enough, you have to say it outright. And then probably prove the sincerity of your words of love for the rest of your life, because Daryl Dixon is a very insecure man. He knows in his brain that you really do love him and will be faithful to him, but those childhood traumas are really getting in the way of his life. Be prepared for that.
• Your relationship with Daryl will gain momentum gradually. I don't think Daryl really likes all these formalities and labels like "girlfriend" and "boyfriend". You're just his and he's just yours. There's no need to complicate it all, the world of the zombie apocalypse is already very complicated. But if you care about dates and formalities, surely Daryl can learn to take it seriously. Not right away, but he will. Just give him time and he'll lay the whole world at your feet. And he'll start marking your anniversary with a marker on his calendar so that he definitely won't miss this important day for you (he won't admit it, but for him too). Daryl will be learning and you'll have to be a good mentor in this relationship for the first few years. It will be worth it, trust me.
• Daryl Dixon gets attached to people easily. He's like a big loyal dog. I mean, have you seen how loyal he is to Rick and Carol? He bites at first, doesn't want to let anyone in, but eventually he gives in and lets you take his heart and soul under his protection. Take care of that. My point is that this is the same way love works in Daryl's case. I'm pretty sure Daryl doesn't believe in the concept of love at first sight and stuff, he rather believes that love only comes about through the process of a relationship. So at first he thinks you are just a pretty woman. Then a friend. Then a good friend. And yes, he may feel sympathy, affection and probably crush at this time, but not love. No, he falls in love with you gradually. It's a slow process, but in Daryl's case it will be forever. He's definitely a one-woman man. And when he allows himself to really love you and not just be a little bit in love, when his heart completely belongs to you and he finally says "I love you" with all seriousness and responsibility, rest assured that this is love. This man will show you what true love is. Safe, sincere, and endlessly committed. Just give him time. Let him love you.
• The following headcanon (though I think it's unqualified canon) about Daryl's loyalty follows from this. You may try to be jealous of him or think he'll fall in love with someone else (it all depends on your confidence), but Daryl will prove time and time again that he's only loyal to you. This man is serious about his and your feelings and your relationship. Therefore, he will not give not a single reason for jealousy. But there could be quite a few women around (and men probably too) who might like Daryl. He doesn't care, he will never look at anyone else. Why would he do that when he has you? You're perfect for him and his heart doesn't belong to him anymore. So if Daryl notices your jealousy and insecurity, he'll spend all his time trying to prove to you that you're the one for him. He's deeply committed. To Rick, to Carol, to Maggie, to Alexandria. He's eternally devoted to you.
• The relationship with Daryl will be full of complexities, let's not turn a blind eye to that. He's a complicated man with a lot of trauma behind him. The situation is more acute if you're a complicated person, too. There's a lot to put up with. Probably a lot of fighting at the beginning of the relationship, especially if we're talking about Daryl from the first seasons of the show. But if you're both willing to work on that relationship, it will work well. Again, not right away, but it will. Daryl is sure that his love for you will be enough for both of you and certainly for solving all your problems in this relationship. He will try his best for you and you will try your best for him too.
• Physical intimacy is probably going to be difficult. Daryl's not a fan of close physical contact, especially with someone he can't call his family. You know, the boy had a shitty childhood. But he feels the need to feel the warmth of your skin on his skin. So he may unknowingly touch you before your relationship even begins. It could just be a "casual" hand collision when you both reached for the same item on the shelf. Or he may lightly touch your shoulder when he needs to get your attention and say something to you. You shouldn't pressure him with this and force a hug or anything like that. He will definitely come to it on his own when he's comfortable and he sees that you're okay with it. As your relationship progresses, he will open up to new types of physical contact more quickly. Sure he'll hug you a lot, try to hold your hand in his, but it's all in private. And of course kissing. I think Daryl actually likes kissing, but he's not very good at it for lack of much experience. Teach him how to kiss well if you have enough experience yourself. He'll be a good student. Especially when it comes to lessons involving his lips on yours. I'm pretty sure Daryl will become very clingy as your relationship progresses. When you're alone together, he won't be able to feel comfortable unless his arms are around you in one way or another. He physically needs to hold you, to bump his nose into your neck and hair to smell your scent, which he loves so much. And of course kissing. Gentle kisses or passionate French kisses, he loves it all.
• Daryl definitely doesn't like the display of attachment on the publick. He considers it yours and his alone. Something private that needs to be kept out of the public eye. Well, he's also pissed off by those ambiguous looks Carol and Rick give him after you call him "baby" or "cutie" in public. But Daryl is willing to hold your hands and will even let you kiss him on the cheek in public if he's in a good mood. He'll save the rest for the two of you alone in your sweet home in Alexandria.
• As for intimacy, everything is ambiguous here. I think for Daryl it is not at all a mandatory aspect of the relationship. If you are asexual, he will have absolutely no problem with this. You are more than enough. The opportunity to see you smile, hug you and make you happy is all he needs. Sex is not necessary and Daryl can definitely live without it if you are not interested in sexual relations. But if you are not against it, then he will be happy to please you. I mean, he does it every day just by existing and loving you, but if he can please you in a sexual sense, he will be happy to do so. But again, not right away. You both will go to this gradually. Trial and error. Only when he completely opens up to you and is not ashamed of his scars, knowing that you love them completely and completely because they are a part of him. But most importantly, when you yourself tell him that you are also ready, then you can act. Daryl has some experience. Merle ordered Daryl... a prostitute for his twenty-first birthday and Daryl had to do it. I think he was the one feeling like a prostitute, not the woman. And maybe he's slept with random women from a bar a couple of times after drinking too much. But it was never anything special and not out of great desire. With you, it's different. Sex with you is his way of showing you love in a new way. Either way, he knows how it works, but you still need to guide him. Show him how you like it and help him the first few times. Daryl is a quick learner, especially if you help him. So pretty soon he'll memorize all the right places and positions to make you feel good as hell, nothing less. Daryl will make sure that you feel good first.
• Your comfort is Daryl's absolute priority. Over the years, he will learn to compromise and give in when necessary. Daryl loves you unconditionally and is ready to be on his knees in front of you, this is what you have done to him with your love and tenderness. Daryl Dixon has become soft and fluffy around you. Just for you. Merle would call him a pansy and laugh, but Daryl doesn't care. Not anymore. You're all he cares about.
• You're his safe place. His home. His heart and soul belong to you, take care of it. And then Daryl Dixon will move mountains for you, you bet he will.
~ A cute little headcanon as a bonus: I honestly think the soundtrack of the relationship with Daryl, is the song: The Goo Goo Dolls - Iris.
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kimbap-r0ll · 11 months
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Hi there! Can i request TWST housewardens (seperate) finding out that their S/O likes to hold their breath everytime they cry because they dont want anyone to hear them crying and worry. (The said housewarden was trying to find them when they stumble on them crying)
You are an amazing writer and i hope you have lovely day/night! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧
Hey, thank you for the ask and the lovely note, hope you have a great day/night too! I low-key feel like I needed some comfort headcanons so I'm glad I can write some haha. Hope everyone's doing well or things get better too
Dorm leaders finding their s/o trying to hide their crying
Riddle
He looked everywhere for you but couldn't find you — he looked at places he knew you liked to hang out, some of his own favorite places, but you were nowhere to be seen. When he was about to give up, he heard some noise in the storage closet in Ramshackle.
"Y/n? Are you in there?" no response. He assumed you would be in there even if you weren't making a sound, so he just yanks open the door. He's about to ask you (not in the nicest way) why you didn't respond to any of his texts nor did you let yourself be known when he passed by the closet fifty times, but he holds all of that back when he sees you on the floor with your hands over your mouth. You had tears in your eyes and just looked at him and the door.
Riddle probably knows what's going on since he's been through situations like this before. He just sits on the floor with you and asks if you're alright. "If you need some time alone, I can give you that, but if you want me to be here, I'll stay." Depending on what you want, he'll do just that. If you ask him to stay, he'll also let you know it's fine to cry, saying it's healthier for you to let it out.
He's extremely gentle when he hugs you, doesn't say much but keeps you close to him. He's not the best with words because he himself never got comforting phrases that often when he was a kid, so he just does what he can. Riddle also tells you not to worry about crying when he's around, he wants you to feel safe and that he'll worry more if he sees you scared of getting attention for crying
When you're a bit calmer, he might get some tea for you two and might ask if you want to talk about it. If you don't, he'll try to change the topic into something you're interested in, whether that is a new book that you two started reading together or something funny he saw that day. Riddle's not the best with comfort, but he wants you to know it's fine, no, much better if you cry since it can help you de-stress. He just wants you to feel better soon, and if you need anything from him he'll do his best to provide.
Leona
I feel like he wanted to ask you about hanging out together but forgot to and took a nap. A few hours later, he woke up and was like "...where are you?" He went looking but it seemed like no one knew where you were, not even Ruggie who usually finds people really easily. Leona was about to give up and just call you on his phone but he swore he heard some muffled sobbing from a darker section of the library.
I feel like it would be hard to hide your crying from him because his hearing's too good. Also, he does what you hoped he wouldn't — worry, alot. Leona pulls you up from the floor where you're sitting and asks you what is going on. Did someone hurt you? Does he need to go find this guy? Honestly, whatever caused you to tear up he's extremely upset about. You won't really notice him worrying because he has a very calm face. "...Did you want to talk about it? Also what are you doing here all by yourself?"
He'll notice you're trying to stay quiet. Sighing, he pulls you into a hug and pushes your face closer to his chest, he'll tell you to more or less "let it out" and that no ones around because it's like midnight. He'll just hold onto you until he can tell you've calmed down a bit. Even if you try to push him off I feel like he'll tell you "No you're clearly trying to hold all of the emotions in, that's not healthy."
Also someone who's not good at comforting others, he'll do what he can while being respectful. You two might just sit in the library in complete silence while he just keeps an arm around you, if you choose to speak to him about what upset you he'll listen 200%. After this, he might ask if you want to walk back to Ramshackle together, or if you look super tired you two might just sleep at the library
Either way, he's similar to Riddle in that he has no idea what to say to help you other than to listen to you. If it turns out someone upset you he might throw some fists but before that, he wants you to know it's fine to cry. He'll make sure you know he doesn't think it's weird to cry when he's around, and it's healthy to let some tears fall from time to time.
Azul
He cries often, so he probably knows what it's like to not want others to see you crying. He thought you might be having a bad week (he's just really good at reading people) but decided against asking you about it. However, when you went missing and the Leech twins said they have no idea where you ran off to, he starts to panic. Did he scare you away? Did someone kidnap you? Did you decide to leave Twisted Wonderland and not tell him anything?! He spirals a bit but decides to go looking for you before he goes into his octopot and de-stresses
Literally almost turns the whole school upside down but finds you in the Ramshackle closet. "Oh, darling I was worried sick about you! What are you doing—" he stops, noticing you shaking and not facing him, you were crying. Azul curses himself for complaining first thing and immediately sits down on the floor, placing a hand on your back. "...Is...is everything alright? Do you need some time by yourself?"
Extremely careful with you, honestly you might start worrying more because he seems super cautious. But if you ask him to leave, he'll say he'll be in the Ramshackle lounge in case you want to talk to him later. If you want him to stay, he'll pull you closer and stay with you. He won't tell you to cry it out since he thinks it won't do anything, but he'll at least let you know it's fine to cry and he himself cries often. He doesn't care if you want him to stay by your side for the next six hours, he'll do just that because you're the person he cares about the most
After you've calmed down a bit, he'll ask if you want to talk about it. He wants to know if there's a way to help you out with whatever situation you're in (of course no contracts are involved). If you don't want to talk about it, he's like Riddle in the sense he'll just try to switch your attention to something else. He'll try to make you something warm to drink since it's always helped him feel better. He won't leave your side no matter what though, so if he goes to the kitchen you'll be with him
Azul's actually not that bad with kind words since he's really good at talking to people. The issue is he's not sure if he's overdoing it or if he's helping you. The best thing he does is hug you because it's the right amount of pressure (he's really strong) and he tells you it's healthy to cry. "I'll be by your side, even through tears."
Kalim
He worries immediately when you can't be reached in like two hours of him looking for you. He almost goes to a different country because he's worried you might've been kidnapped (Jamil stops him from using his carpet). However, he does find you in the graveyard area of Ramshackle. Immediately, he runs over to you, shouting your name and with a big smile since he's relieved to see you, but that small drops when he sees you hiding your face and trying to stop yourself from making any sounds. You're crying.
At first he's lost, he thinks back to how Jamil used to cheer him up but has no idea how to replicate that since he's never really done it himself. I feel like Kalim might want to just ask you if you're fine and try to get you to cry it out at first but he knows that's probably not going to work. After standing there for a few seconds, he crouches down and tries to get you to look at him. If that doesn't work, he'll at least sit closer.
"H-hey, what's the matter? Are you okay?" he might seem clueless but I feel like he would be one of the best when it comes to comforting his s/o. He pulls you closer, tells you to cry it out and if it's cold outside he'll help you get back into the dorm. Will tell you variations of "it's alright, don't worry it's perfectly fine to cry" while patting your back. He doesn't let go of you until he feels your breathing come back to a calmer pattern.
He sits down with you, holding your hand and asking if you wanted to talk about it. He's a bit more pushy about it since he thinks it's much better to let it out than bundle it up, but if you don't want to then he'll understand and respect your decision. He tries to cheer you up by talking to you about something funny or turning on the tv to watch something while he gets some snacks from the kitchen. Tries to divert your attention away from whatever is stressing you out until you're ready to talk to him about it. If that never happens, that's fine too, he just wants to know what he can do to help. "Good food helps me feel better, want some?"
I think Kalim is misunderstood as someone who doesn't really know boundaries. True, he forgets about them from time to time, but when something's serious he'll take it extremely seriously, maybe even more seriously than anyone else in NRC. He wants you to know you can be safe with him, he would never judge you for crying. If you need anything, he's the type of person to drop everything and run over, no matter what time of the day it is.
Vil
He noticed you were more stressed than usual, but he didn't ask since he didn't want to overstep. However, you went missing one day and you weren't responding to his texts. He asked Rook if he saw you, and to Vil's surprise the hunter hadn't seen you in a few days. Vil low-key panics and also almost turns the whole school upside down looking for you.
He eventually finds you in the library in a quieter, less noticed section. At first, he coldly asks you what you are doing there late at night, not responding to him, and sitting on the floor. "Do you know how worried I was?" He would ask but then he senses something's off, you aren't making any noises, it's like you're holding your breath. He's seen this before, perhaps something he used to do as a kid, but whatever it is he drops his usually cold aura and gets closer to you.
He's at a loss of words at first, not knowing if he'll be able to comfort you with anything he says. Vil will ask you if you want him to stay. If you want him to leave, he'll say he'll be outside of the library or if you want him to stay then he'll pull you closer. He's extremely gentle with you too, telling you to let it out and not to worry. It pains him to see you hurt, he'll let you bury your face in his uniform and just hold you. "Don't hold it in, it's fine, I'm here for you."
When you're a bit calmer, he won't immediately ask if you want to talk to him about it. Instead, he asks if you want to go back to his room and have some tea. The two of you might have a little bit of a self-care session along with it. While you two are having tea, he'll listen to you if you choose to talk about what was causing you to cry. Vil also assures you it's perfectly healthy to cry and he's teared up multiple times himself.
I feel like what scares people around Vil is his usually stoic, cold persona but when he's with you he's extremely gentle. He wants to be someone you can go to when you need help. He's had to bottle up feelings so many times, but he doesn't want you to go through the same things. If anything, he would rather you express your emotions, tears or laughter.
Idia
Also someone who was super worried at first when you disappeared. He wondered if he creeped you out to the point where you left, but Ortho assured him that wouldn't happen. Idia runs over to Ramshackle to see if you're there, but he doesn't find you. That's where he starts to panic.
Eventually, he finds you in one of the towers of the school, a place where the stars are clear and no one would find you. "Y-y/n! I was looking for you everywhere I was so worried—" he runs over but notices you're crying but your holding it back. I feel like he would feel his heart skip a beat because the panic he's feeling doubles. Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you? Was it him? No, it wasn't time for him to worry about that, he had to make sure you were alright first.
He sits down next to you, taking one of your hands and asks if you're alright. You squeak out a little "don't worry about me" but he doesn't take it. He then pulls you into a tight hug and asks you to cry it out. It's always helped him to cry when he was stressed, though yes it wasn't with anyone around he wants you to know it's perfectly fine to cry in front of him. Hell, he might tear up a bit because he's just so worried about you.
After you (and maybe him too) calm down, he asks if you want to talk about it but doesn't pressure you. "We-we can go back and watch some movies? I have a few I wanted to watch with you," he might suggest, it's a way to divert your energy away from what is bothering you. When you two do go back to his dorm, you he'll bring a ton of blankets and the two of you can wrap yourselves in them. He'll have an arm around you, keeping you close.
He's not too confident with his own words, so he might not give out as much comforting words as others. However, he tries to show his care through his actions, either through the movies you two watch or keeping you close. He also lets you know it's better to let yourself cry and if you need anything he'll be there for you. He doesn't want to see you sad, he'll do whatever he can to help.
Malleus
The school probably saw a thunderstorm when he realized you weren't anywhere to be found that day. He tries to keep calm but there's just so much going on in his head — did you leave him without saying anything? You're the most important person to Malleus, and that's what causes him to react much larger than any of the other dorm leaders. He basically looks for you everywhere until he finds you in the woods.
He notices you crying, even if you try to hide it from him he's really good at reading people. "Y/n, is everything alright?" he ask, placing a hand on your shoulder. You're sitting on the grass with your head buried in your arms. He's seen this before with himself, he's tried to hide his tears before and it pains him to see you like this too.
Picking you up, he pulls you into his chest and tells you it's fine to cry. "You're safe with me, it's alright to cry do not worry." He hugs you tightly and doesn't let go of you until you calm down. He might kiss the top of your head a few times too while whispering to you it's going to be okay. While he might not be the best at words, he does his best to calm you down with what he's seen Lilia do with Silver, Sebek and Malleus himself
After you calm down, he might ask if you want to talk about it. If you do, he'll listen and continue to hold you close. If you don't want to talk about what's been bothering you, he'll respect that too. He'll also ask if you want to go back to Ramshackle since he doesn't want you catching a cold (he caused a thunderstorm and it was raining) or back to Diasomnia. Either way, he'll carry you back to either dorm. Until he sees you smile or at least show you're feeling much better, he won't leave your side.
Malleus cares deeply about you and will let you know it's much healthier to cry than to keep yourself from it. He wants you to feel safe with him and will drop everything and run over if you need his help, no matter how big or small the issue. You made him feel comforted first as a friend and now as a boyfriend, he wants to do the same to you.
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azrielbrainrot · 20 days
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With Your Hand In Mine
Pairing: Eris x F!Reader
Description: Both you and Eris can agree that it would be good for you to know how to defend yourself. It's just a shame that he's the only one who can teach you.
Warnings: A bit suggestive
Word Count: 3700
Notes: I haven't written for these two in a while, I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy!
Fire on Fire Masterlist
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“Is this truly necessary?”
“I wouldn't have agreed to train you if I knew you were going to complain the whole time.”
A sigh escapes your dry lips, rolling up your sleeves once more even though they'd hardly moved from the last time you had, trying to buy time while you catch your breath before he's forcing you to start back up. The fact that this had been your idea gave you little comfort when you've barely started and it already felt like you'd run a marathon, your body beyond confused at what you're putting it through.
“We don't have much time. It's best we don't unnecessarily waste it,” Eris says, arms crossed over his chest and the usual irritating smirk perched on his lips, not a hair out of place or any escalation in his breath - he was the picture of relaxation.
“I'm not wasting time, Eris. I told you I can't do it.”
The gold bracelet still sat on his wrist, a complete contrast to the simple nature of the rest of the clothes he wore today, fit for the intense training session he's putting you through. The bracelet was also yours, one of your favorites in fact, and had been sitting in its usual place in one of your jewelry boxes just this morning.
You still didn't know how he had stolen the bracelet so easily, avoiding both you and all your maids without getting noticed or leaving any trace behind. Well aside from the letter inviting - read ordering - you to meet him in this exact place before sundown, and a new box of cookies that sat waiting for you on your desk. He truly had gotten lucky no one else had come into your room in the meantime.
Knowing how to protect yourself and yield your powers properly was something you always wanted to do, which is why you had reluctantly asked Eris for help, seeing as he was the only one you could trust, a fact that brought you the opposite of comfort. What you couldn't have predicted is that this would mean spending hours playing one of his stupid games.
“You only need to get this off my wrist. I'm not using my powers or even half of my strength. The bracelet doesn't even have a clasp, you simply need to pull it off. I'm making this extremely easy for you,” his smirk widens as he adds, “even children can do this much.”
You can't help the frown that takes over your features at his little comment. No matter how much time you spend with Eris you can't get used to his sharp tongue, and unfortunately it strikes true more often than not. Your gaze lowers to his wrist and that offending bracelet once more, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore his stupid comment, trying to hide the feelings of insecurity that rose to the surface.
“I wouldn't be here wasting my time if I thought you couldn't do it,” he adds, his tone significantly softer than before.
The fact that he noticed made you angrier somehow. Hiding your emotions was never a problem for you, it was something you had to learn very quickly when you were just a child. You do it in front of your parents and maids every day, in front of any relative or noble, even the High Lord and Lady of Autumn, but, for some inexplicable reason, Eris can always read you like an open book.
It seemed like he was trying to make you feel better in his own way. Even that gave you little comfort though, it didn't suit him and it definitely didn't suit your relationship.
You had tried to practice by yourself when you were younger and first noticed your powers developing. Hiding them had been the obvious choice for you, but you had also decided to use them as much as possible. Winnowing had been easy enough for you to understand and control on your own, and your fire had simply needed some more concentration and a few stolen books to fully understand.
After so easily taking control of your powers, you thought any physical training would be simple enough for you to understand. It resulted in countless hours of brandishing an old sword around, trying to mimic the way your books described the correct movements. Soon, you realized that without watching the proper techniques and having a sparring partner you would never be able to learn anything.
The necessity to at least know how to tame your fire powers had been important for your own survival, seeing as they manifested each time your emotions escalated, so it makes sense that you had been a lot more successful at it then with any other physical training.
You don't give him a response, focusing all your energy into calming down and trying to think of a way to get to the bracelet. He's a lot faster and stronger than you, even when he's holding back as he said. More importantly, he has been trained ever since he was a child, from a cruelly young age knowing Beron. He's even taller than you, only having to put his arm up for you not to be able to reach the bracelet. All the odds are in his favor, and the fact only adds to your annoyance.
A couple minutes go by like this, with you studying your target instead of reaching for the bracelet mindlessly as Eris watches on, unnervingly quiet. It never bode well when he actually kept his mouth shut, it meant he was thinking.
“You never told me why you wanted me to teach you,” your fiancé speaks up at last, his voice now closer. You had been so focused that you didn't even hear him approaching, something you should have definitely been focusing on. You wonder for a second if you would have been able to even if you weren't distracted.
Your gaze meets his, thinking through his words and attempting to understand the look in his eyes, when you can't you childishly ponder ignoring him and using this moment to steal the bracelet. Ultimately you decide against it, answering his question at last.
“If your enemies are to become my own, I'll need all the training I can get.”
That was an understatement considering his enemies were the High Lord of Autumn, his army and the nobles who supported him, maybe even his brothers. You're sure he even managed to find new ones after his allegiance to the Night Court, if his allies themselves aren't still considered enemies at the same time.
“It offends me that you think I can't tell when you're lying,” he muses.
You bite your lip in annoyance just as he comes to stand a mere step away from you, tilting your head so you can glare at him properly. His expression falls into a maddeningly alluring one, a smirk twitching along his inviting lips.
“I'm not lying.”
“No, but you're not telling me the whole truth either,” he says, fingers reaching out to pick a dried bit of flower or leaf out of your hair, mother knows how long it's been there, “I thought we were past the need for beating around our intentions.”
You look at him wearily, studying his nonchalant expression while he discards whatever was in your hair, watching it fall onto the soft grass as if he wouldn't much rather study your face back and try to find the answer on his own. You suppose you could appreciate that he would ask you instead of trying to pry it out of you, he can get any answer he wants out of anyone after all.
“I don't like being weak,” you confess, almost regretting it when his amber eyes meet yours. “If my father wasn't…” You trail off, not even knowing what to say. Someone who didn't think of his own daughter as a business opportunity? A coward, too afraid of letting anyone have the upper hand? A monster? Doesn't matter what words you choose, the truth of the matter is you were tired of playing by his rules. Eris watches you, never rushing you while you gather your thoughts. “I wish I had been trained since I was young. The world is cruel, and I want to have a fighting chance. I don't want to hide behind anyone's shadow.”
“Alright,” Eris says after a while, looking almost proudly down at you. His hands find his pockets and he nods at your training prop before changing the subject.
“You're going about it the wrong way.”
“I've noticed that, genius.”
“Such kind words,” he trails off after a chuckle, “I told you I wouldn't use my powers, but I never said anything about yours.”
You blink at his words, murmuring after a while, “Would that be fair? What if I hurt you?”
“Do you think you can hurt me, doll?”
The teasing, downright condescending tone is a means to get you motivated once more, and even knowing this, you can't help but feel a familiar heat bubbling under your skin, one he can so easily pull out of you. Perhaps Eris really was the perfect person to help you with this.
“Show me,” he says, a proud and excited glint in his eyes.
Your body answers his command, moving before you even think it through. Winnowing behind him, you reach out to grab his wrist, kicking the back of his knee as hard as you can when he unsurprisingly hides his wrist away from you to keep the bracelet safe. It makes him falter but he doesn't fall like you'd hoped.
Clenching your jaw at the breath of amusement he lets out, you summon your flames, burning a patch of grass under his feet, he sidesteps trying to salvage his shoes, and you attempt tripping him again, only to fail once more as he turns to face you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer with a look of annoyance on his face. This makes you feel a bit better, at least you ruined his shoes.
Reaching out for his wrist now would be in vain, he's much stronger than you so aimlessly trying to grab the bracelet is no use, you've been trying to do just that for hours. Winnowing back to your initial spot and out of his arms, you watch him again, thinking.
“Giving up already?”
You scoff, a smirk of your own finding its way to your lips. “When have I ever given up?”
Fire rushes from your hands once more, a lot more than before, burning the grass and dried leaves all around you, the smoke they create is enough to not only hide you but also distract him as it grows taller than the trees. When you feel his magic pulsing, creating a shield so no one wandering around the forest sees or smells the smoke, you move, kicking his feet apart at the same time you push at his chest, making him lose balance.
His arms reach out for your waist as he falls back, giving you the opportunity to finally slip the bracelet from his wrist. The sense of accomplishment it brings you is short-lived as you take note of the position you're in, Eris' hand still holding onto your waist, his body completely still under yours. His amber eyes looking up at you, not even a little annoyed or surprised by you taking the bracelet.
A glare paints your features, your mood quickly souring, while a smile grows on his stupidly relaxed face, both his hands moving to hold onto your hips.
“You're going easy on me,” you accuse.
Eris chuckles, the sound shaking his body slightly, and yours with his, a reminder of your current position. The realization makes you look up briefly, trying to see if he had truly put up that shield to cover you both, mother knows what would happen if someone found you straddling your fiancé in the middle of the woods.
“Yes,” he starts, bending his knees and turning your world upside down so quickly you barely register the movement until you're laying down on the grass, his smirk growing. “I am.”
The sight of the Autumn Court's heir kneeling between your legs and looking down at you through amused yet arrogant eyes makes your thoughts stumble for a moment. No matter how much this male manages to irritate you to the point of contemplating murder, there are always moments when his beauty catches you off guard.
“We're only starting,” he says, his voice breaking you out of your treacherous thoughts, “and I have centuries of training on you, but if we keep up you'll grow stronger and there will come a time when I will not overpower you so easily.”
At his praise you find a different kind of heat rush over your body. You curse your parents for being so harsh on you, for making compliments such a rare occurrence in your life. A harsh breath escapes you as you swallow, searching for the right words to thank him, or perhaps pull him back to your usual conversations, hiding every emotion behind thinly veiled animosity. Your and Eris' relationship never went beyond raw anger that slowly transformed into bickering over the years, but lately things have started to change ever so slightly, resulting in confusing situations such as these.
You watch his head tilt to the side as you gather your thoughts, the amusement intensifying as something else burns in his eyes alongside it, something a lot more wicked. The air seems to thicken as your gazes meet in this inexplicable moment. You don't understand most of your body's reactions, but this has to be what losing your mind feels like.
Eris licks his lips, eyes looking above your head for a second before meeting yours once again. “Next time we'll focus on controlling your powers,” he starts, leaving you confused. He nods to the grass around you, prompting you to follow his eyes, finding the remaining embers of the fire you had caused earlier sparking up once again and burning the rest of the leaves. You try to quell them immediately, lifting yourself up on your forearms as a gasp escapes you. How had you not even noticed the smoke? “Can't have you starting a fire every time you get wet.”
It takes a moment for his words to fully register in your brain but when they do your foot flies to his chest, kicking him away from you. Unfortunately, the fire only intensifies with your reaction, and in result so does his laughter. Amber eyes moving to watch the beautiful flame engulfing the old piece of wood, the light reflecting in them making them appear so much brighter, redder.
“Oh, my.”
The amusement written on his face makes you kick him once more, sitting up in time to push him all the way to the ground, Eris never resisting as his body shook with laughter, laying down on the soft grass while you contemplated all the ways you could kill him. You had never seen him laugh this hard, it's just a shame it's at your expense.
“I don't know how vivid and sordid your imagination is but I'd appreciate it if you didn't involve me in your dirty fantasies.”
Eris lets out one last chuckle, looking up at you through half lidded eyes, his lack of reaction to your threats making you even more annoyed as usual. You bite your tongue, trying to not show it on your face, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, especially when you've already shown him more than you ever should have. It had simply been a momentary slip, a result of your lack of experience showing through, that's all.
“As much as I wish I could show you every single, dirty fantasy, it's getting late and we're both expected elsewhere soon,” he changes the subject effortlessly, maybe taking pity on you. When he holds up his hand and you find your bracelet back on his wrist you know pity has nothing to do with it. “Let's keep going. We're wasting precious time.”
Your entire body ached, muscles you didn't even know existed were screaming at you as you sat on the floor. You'd lost count on how many times Eris forced you to attempt taking the bracelet back from him, and even if you had failed plenty of times, your bracelet sat on your wrist at the end, where it belonged. There was an underlying satisfaction buzzing within you. You've always wanted to train like this, always wanted to use your powers and become stronger. It all felt like a dream.
“Come here,” Eris tells you softly, extending his hand towards you. You furrow your brows and look up at him, getting up slowly. He never explains, simply waiting for you to reach him, but you take his hand all the same. You have no more energy to fight with him today, there would be no heart behind it anyway. You're too grateful for him, unfortunately.
He grasps your hand in his silently and winnows you back to the cabin in the blink of an eye, the way he winnows from place to place so much smoother than when you do it yourself, maybe you should ask him to teach you more about that as well.
It had gotten late, the sun already setting and making way for the moon to shine in the sky, and you had to be home soon, before your father arrived for dinner and noticed you gone, so you were about to question him again when you noticed the big tub sitting in the middle of the usually empty room.
“Is that for me?”
“You weren't thinking of going back home directly in this state were you?” He rolls his eyes softly. “You'd be found out this same day.”
Actually, you knew the maids weren't anywhere close to your room at this hour. If you did everything right, you had more than enough time to change back into your dress and get in the bathtub once inside your room. It wouldn't be a lengthy bath but it would keep you clean. Still, looking at the steamy tub, that plan sounded worse than to wait for the rain to wash the sweat off.
“I think I could manage,” you offer.
“This way is easier,” he says, “and the warm water will soothe your muscles.”
This day had been confusing to say the least. Not only had Eris just realized one of your biggest wishes, but also prepared a warm bath for your sore body, making sure at the same time that you wouldn't get caught and suffer your father's wrath. At times like these, you're reminded he's not only Beron's heir or the future High Lord, and see the male behind the charade and the titles weighting on his shoulders.
“Thank you, Eris,” you say, “for everything.”
He watches you for a moment, seemingly surprised by your words and the conviction behind them, before nodding. It's not often you share vulnerable moments like this so you almost want to thank him again when he simply accepts your gratitude without making any further comments, especially with how he usually is.
Turning back to the tub, you wonder how this will work for a moment, seeing as there was only one singular tub, and two of you. Eris takes this as his cue to leave, placing his hands in his pockets after making the flames in the fireplace grow in size, warming up the cabin even more, before turning his body, moving to walk to the door.
“Are you leaving?”
Eris turns back towards you, tilting his head to the side slightly, amusement growing in his expression, but there was something else behind his gaze, just like before.
“Do you wish for me to join you?”
You almost bite your tongue vindictively. Your mouth was working against you today, and with the thoughts growing in your mind, you were starting to think even your brain had left you on your own.
“I was only asking because you need a bath of your own.” Even if he hadn't done much and this afternoon certainly couldn't be considered a work out for him, there was still grass and dirt on him, as well as some sweat. This would definitely raise questions. As you take him in, you also notice a faint, sweet undertone to his usual spicy scent. “You smell like me,” you conclude, your throat going dry.
The heat was almost obscenely distinguishable in his amber eyes now, threatening to consume you whole. As much as you will certainly try to deny the fact when you look back at this moment tomorrow, there is no question that these were two people looking at each other with desire in their eyes. It was also impossible to mistake the sudden heaviness in both of your scents for anything else.
Neither of you say a word for a minute too long, stuck in between your betraying bodies and everything else. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest, the heavy gaze the male in front of you kept you under enough to make you want to do something you've never done before and just give in despite all the consequences.
Eris is the one to find his composure first, clearing his throat and looking down at his shoes before saying, “No one will see me. You don't have to worry about me, doll.”
You nod, knowing better than to try and say anything, lest your words betray you as well, especially after the pet name that usually irritates you to no end sends a different kind of heat to your center. Watching him winnow out of the cabin without another word, allowing you to finally take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, but, even as you sit in the warm water he prepared, you can't take the images of Eris joining you out of your head, the reminder of his body against yours in the woods as he taught you, or the way his scent mingled with yours. You almost wish this was a cold bath instead.
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chocochannie · 1 year
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Soft touches
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☆Theodore Nott x gn!reader, fluff
English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!!
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It was friday evening. You were heading to the library as usual. At this time, there weren't many students, so you could peacefully read. Stepping into a big dark room with many shelves filled with old books and candles flying everywhere, you smelled a familiar scent. God, how you loved this place.
As you sat at your usual seat in the back of the library and opened your book, you heard footsteps getting closer to you. You looked up and saw Theodore Nott.
You didn't talk much to him, but you were crushing on him for ages but wouldn't admit it, even to your best friend or even yourself. He was more like the quiet type of person. He didn't speak much, and you always wondered why he was friends with Draco and Mattheo. They were the complete opposite, loud, outgoing, mean, and always partying. Theo is kindhearted, he may seem scary and imitating, but that's far from the truth.
"Hi, is this seat taken?" He said, pointing to the seat beside you.
The library is almost empty, why would he want to sit here?
"Not at all, go ahead." You said slightly smiling at him.
He sat down and took out a sketchbook from his bag. You didn't know he liked to draw. You tried to subtly look at his drawings as he flipped the pages.
The sketchbook was filled with beautiful landscapes, animals, and portraits of people you've never seen before but also of his friends, even some teachers. They were mostly drawn with pencils, but some of them, especially landscapes, were painted. They were absolutely beautiful. You've been so caught up in admiring his work that you didn't see that he noticed this.
"Well.. I know it might sound weird, but could you pose for me? I mean, it's totally fine if not, but you look so pretty right now, and I'd love to capture this.. gosh, that sounded creepy, I'm sorry." He said.
It really caught you off guard but didn't fail to make you blush slightly.
"Don't be sorry. Thank you, and yeah, I could do that. Should I move?" You said hoping he wouldn't notice how nervous you are.
"Not really, just do this..." he said, taking your hand in his and moving it to your face. His cold finger tips brushing against your cheek.
His hand was so soft. His gorgeous eyes were looking straight into yours. How could you be so madly in love with him?
You didn't move a muscle as he started drawing you. His blue eyes scanning every inch of you. The only thing you could hear was the rain outside. You were as focused on him as he was on you. His dark curls falling onto his forehead, his pale skin that reminded you of the moon, his sleepy bright eyes, his soft pink lips, his long, skinny fingers. All this made you fall for him, he was breathtaking.
He finally finished and showed you the drawing.
"Here it is. It's not perfect but I hope you'll like it" he said handing it to you.
It was marvelous, he drew you exactly how you look like, added every little detail.
"You can keep it, sorry I have to go, I promised Draco I'll help him with his assignment." Right after he spoke, he rushed out of the library. You didn't even have time to thank him.
Sighing you stood up, but the piece of paper fell. You picked it up and saw text on the back.
"Would you like to go to hogsmeade on a date with me? I think im falling for you more every day."
You also think you're falling for him more everyday, if that's even possible.
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Masterlist
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joelscruff · 1 year
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for what it's worth (joel miller x reader) 18+
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part 3 of the soft!dom joel collection has arrived! this one tackles some backstory; it's time to see how they met and how exactly their little "arrangement" came to be. i hope you guys like it, your feedback means the world to me. i also have a kofi if you'd like to give me a tip (but of course this is completely optional). previous parts: you know i don't mean it & don't think we could help it summary: your relationship with joel has always been complicated, but it's about to change drastically, for better or for worse. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: fem!reader, smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (joel is dominant but not degrading or aggressive), mentions of porn (specifically magazines) word count: 10k (it's a doozy) | ao3 spoilers: this contains vague spoilers for part two of the video game (and most likely for season two of the show). nothing too major but i figured i should warn for it anyway.
To say that your first day in Jackson is alienating would be an understatement.
You feel like everyone is staring at you (they are) and no one will let you out of their sight (they won't). You understand immediately that there's a lack of trust which will need to be formed as soon as possible, otherwise you'll never be able to create a home here.
"They're wary of you," Maria explains in your brand new living room - you still can't believe you just went from having barely any possessions to having your own house - and gives you a weak smile, "It'll pass, they just need to make sure you don't have any ulterior motives."
You get it, but it still hurts. Especially that night when you join your new community for dinner and find yourself sitting alone in the corner of the room, poking at your food and trying not to let your emotions betray you. You're determined not to show weakness, even though you've never felt more isolated. You can feel their eyes on you constantly, like they're waiting for you to pull out a rifle and start picking them off like a shooting gallery.
There's only one person who seems to be consistently minding his own business, a middle aged man who sits in the opposite corner of the room. He's hulking and broad, kind of intimidating, but there's a softness to his jaw and the grey scruff covering it that makes you see something else, something kind. He takes large bites and seems lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on the wall to his left but unfocused, like he's looking through it. He's by himself too, mirroring you, but you can tell by the way people move around him that he's been here for a long time. He must just enjoy his solitude.
"That's Joel," Maria tells you, sitting next to you and following your gaze, "He's my husband's brother, came down here a few years ago."
"He doesn't stare at me like everyone else does," you say, still looking over at him, "Does he just not care or...?"
To your surprise, she laughs, and everyone who's giving you dirty looks suddenly seems to soften. You're grateful for Maria then for bothering to talk to you, to try and trust you.
"Don't ask me to explain the things Joel does, I wouldn't be able to tell you," you notice that she has a full plate of food with her and that she's decided to sit next to you for dinner, an attempt to alleviate the mistrust for you in the room. You can't help but smile, thankful.
"He's a closed book," she continues, "Even Tommy finds him hard to read and he's his own brother."
She changes the subject then, wanting to know more about you and what you've been through, a not so subtle way of trying to get some information for the council. You humor her; you have nothing to lose.
Your eyes still stray to the man named Joel every so often as you speak, but you're not sure why. After about ten minutes he gets up to leave, and you watch him place his empty bowl in the dishwashing area and give the woman working there a small smile. She smiles back, says something to him. He laughs, and you can almost hear it over the bustle of the dining area. You watch as he says something else to her in parting, gives her one more smile, and turns and walks out the door. He doesn't look at you, not even once.
-
Over the next few weeks, things get better. Less people are looking at you and more people are actually trying to talk to you, get to know you. You have some nice conversations and answer questions about yourself - mostly appropriate, save for the one teenager who kept asking how you got the different scars along your bicep, the long one on your neck, the one on your cheek, stories you really didn't want to recount. After hounding you for a few minutes, her friend had pulled her away with an apology, "She likes scars," she'd said sheepishly, tugging the girl's arm, "Come on, Ellie, leave her alone."
You meet everybody, shake hands and even hug a few people. You start getting invited to things, asked to suggest films for movie night, help set up some games for the kids, Tommy even asks you one evening to help him herd a few sheep that had gotten loose. They trust you, and it feels good.
You still see that man, Joel, every night in the dining hall. But that's the only place you see him. You're not sure where he goes during the day or after dinner; he must just be a bit of a recluse, which you can't blame him for. The people here are nice but a lot are overbearing and a bit too friendly sometimes, plus it's hard to find time for yourself when everyone has tasks to complete and always likes to help each other out. You begin to wonder if he'll ever notice you, which leads you to wonder why it even matters to you that he does.
-
Your patrols start around the three month mark. Tommy takes you out with a small group beyond the borders of the community and shows you the ropes, points out where most of the patrol spots are with a pair of binoculars and goes over the routine. Your first assignment is simple: manning the watchtower with Maria. You spend most of the patrol getting to know her, hearing about her past and telling her more about yours. You like her a lot, she's easy to talk to and has a strong spirit akin to your own. The conversation gets pretty personal around the seventh hour, and you end up telling her how exactly you got the scar along your cheekbone. She listens deeply, thoughtfully, nodding along as you detail the more difficult things you've had to deal with in the past, the things that have made you stronger.
"You're tough," she says near the end of your shift, nudging your shoulder, "You don't really belong on watchtower, do you?"
You shrug, "I mean, if there's somewhere else I'd be more useful..."
"How'd you like to head out to the ski lodge with Joel next week?"
Your ears prick up at the name and you nod quickly, unsure exactly why, "Yeah, that'd be great!"
"He knows the area well," she adds, then grimaces, "I have to warn you though, he might not talk very much. He keeps to himself, I'm sure you've noticed."
You wonder why she's so quick to put you on patrol with someone who might not even speak to you, but it starts to make sense as you're walking back from the watchtower in the early hours of the morning. Tommy exits the dining hall and walks over to the both of you with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to Maria's cheek.
"How's my girl?" he asks flirtatiously, and she bats him away playfully.
"Was just telling the new recruit that she's gonna go on patrol with Joel next week," she replies, and Tommy stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow.
"Her? With Joel?" he appraises you and bites his lip, "I don't know, honey, wouldn't she be better off with someone who'll actually talk to her? I thought she was on watchtower with you."
"Tommy, I never see you anymore," she gives him an exasperated look, "The weekends used to be for us and ever since the Kingstons left-"
"I know, I know," he looks at you again, twisting his mouth in thought, "I've been, uh, a lot busier than usual lately. We had this family here for a while, big family, they helped out with the patrols. But they decided to go south a few months back, so-"
"So Tommy's been filling in for every shift he can," Maria finishes for him with a sigh, "And I never see the damn idiot anymore."
You smile, "I'm totally fine with taking over for you, really."
Tommy raises an eyebrow, "Seriously? You sure?" Maria slaps his arm lightly and he gives her a look, but then shrugs, "I mean, okay, if you wanna give it a try. It won't be all the time or anything, maybe just every other weekend, but it would actually be a big help."
"It really would," Maria adds, "You have no idea."
"But... you gotta understand, my big brother, he's.... he's complicated," Tommy's expression is serious now as he looks at you, "He's not very talkative these days, not since..." he shakes his head and you don't push it any further, though you do wonder what's changed.
"So you'll do it?" Maria asks, eyes bright.
"Even if he doesn't talk to you?" Tommy adds with a grimace.
You nod, somehow believing it won't actually be that bad.
-
It is that bad.
The first time you're officially introduced to Joel he doesn't even bother to shake your hand, just nodding vaguely to you as you stand there like an idiot with your palm outstretched. Tommy makes a face at him and then looks back to you with a reassuring smile.
"There's not usually much trouble up at the ski lodge," he says kindly, ignoring Joel's ambivalence, "The trek back and forth is arguably the worst part. The lifts were already damaged beyond repair when we got here so it's a bit of a hike, 'bout an hour to get up there and the same back."
You begin to wonder if maybe this really isn't the best idea, eyeing Joel silently as Tommy explains what you should expect. You've seen this man smile, know he's capable of making some kind of small talk, but it's clear that you're not an ideal candidate as he stands there stiffly and lets Tommy do the talking. Tommy had told you earlier that if the patrol didn't go well he wouldn't make you do it again, and you're already thinking this might be your first and last shift with Joel.
Tommy walks with both of you to about the halfway point, still going over the routine as Joel trudges silently ahead of you. He hasn't said a word, not one word. It's honestly starting to piss you off.
"Well, I gotta head back," Tommy says, giving you another smile of reassurance, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, see how it went, see if we might make this more permanent." He seems doubtful but you can't blame him.
A few moments later it's just you and Joel, hiking in complete silence save for the sounds of nature. The cogs in your head frantically turn, trying to land on something you can say to make things less awkward.
"So, when's the last time you saw infected up here?" you settle on, hoping it'll be enough to start some kind of conversation.
"'Bout a month ago," he replies immediately, voice gruff but quiet, "Weren't too many."
He's got an accent like his brother but it's fainter, less obnoxious, like he's spent more time with non-southern people in the later years of his life. Tommy had said they'd grown up in Texas and lived there 'til he was in his late 20s and Joel his mid 30s, then somewhere along the way they'd separated. You don't know much else about him other than that.
"It's the people you mainly worry about though, right?" you ask, quoting something Tommy had said a few weeks back, "Tommy said you've had more run-ins with raiders than infected."
"Tommy's tellin' you too much," he replies with a grunt, "Don't know what he's even thinking sendin' some kid up here."
You feel anger rise in your chest immediately, "I'm not a kid, asshole."
He stops then, turns around and appraises you with his eyebrows furrowed. It's the first time he's actually gotten a good look at you, his gaze catching on your face for a lasting moment before his eyes fall to your gun. You feel slightly vulnerable, intimidated by his heavy stare.
"How old are you?" he asks, genuinely curious.
"Twenty seven."
His brow furrows even more, "Coulda sworn he said you were seventeen."
"Well, I'm not," you reply awkwardly.
"No, you're not," he acknowledges, "I'm sorry," He seems to mean it, giving you the smallest of apologetic nods and then turning around again to keep walking.
"You thought Tommy sent a seventeen year old up here with you? I thought you had to be eighteen to patrol outside the border."
"You do, I just wouldn't put it past Tommy to send a kid up here with me," he grumbles, "Wouldn't be the first time."
"...Why?"
"None of your business."
"Okay, but now I'm just thinking you're some kind of pervert," you say it in a joking manner but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he stops again and spins around, looking at you with what you can only explain as pure rage. You flinch backward, eyes widening.
"Do I look like a fucking pervert to you?" he asks, voice hard and angry.
"I was joking," you say immediately, shaking your head frantically, "It didn't land."
"No, it fucking didn't," he starts walking again at a faster pace, leaving you standing there completely floored.
Yeah, it's bad.
-
"Ellie's not speaking to him," Tommy explains to you the next morning in the dining hall, hands gripping his coffee mug. You've just told him about your patrol with Joel and the horrible impression you've already managed to make. "I really shouldn't be telling you this but with an outburst like that...I need you to understand why he reacted the way he did."
You look at him, bewildered, "Ellie? That teenager who plays guitar down by the stream?" And the one who'd relentlessly bothered you with questions about your scars, but you keep that part to yourself.
"Yeah, she's...well for all intents and purposes, she's Joel's kid. And she stopped talking to him a while ago, maybe six or seven months back now," he takes a sip of coffee, "Don't ask me why 'cause I have no idea. I've asked both of them and neither'll give me any kind of explanation. All I know is they ain't speakin' and he's heartbroken over it."
"Must've been a bad argument," you say, scrunching your nose in thought, "I mean...seven months? That's a long time to not speak to someone, especially your dad."
"Eh, you haven't met Ellie. She's one of the most stubborn people I've ever met. They both are," he shakes his head, "Anyway, you calling him a perv probably pissed him off 'cause Ellie's real special to him, a surrogate daughter. He wouldn't like someone misunderstanding that, seein' somethin' dirty or wrong there."
"I wasn't-"
He puts a hand up, nodding, "I know you weren't, I get it, no worries. It's partly my fault anyway 'cause he's right, I have tried to send a teen or two up with him, thought it'd do him good to mentor somebody again. But he doesn't want it, I know that now. He doesn't want it if it's not Ellie."
"Well, he doesn't seem to like me anyway, no matter how old I am," you sigh, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms, "I mean, he didn't talk to me once after that, not for the whole shift. It was bad. I don't know if it's gonna work, Tommy. I'm sorry."
He nods and gives you a small smile, thumbing the handle of his mug, "It's okay, I didn't think it'd work out anyways." He tries to hide the disappointment in his expression but fails miserably, and you leave the dining hall feeling bad about your failure.
-
A few days later you're back in the dining hall finishing up dinner, chatting with a few of the community members who you've warmed up most to. There's not many, but you are starting to find yourself feeling more and more comfortable around people as the days go on, more like yourself. You're caught up in a story about an infected you'd encountered in a gas station when their gazes suddenly divert from you and instead fix above your head. Confused, you slow your words and turn around.
"Oh, hi," you say, voice a bit breathless when you see Joel standing there, hands in his pockets, "Did you need something?"
"I, uh, wanted to talk to you," he says it softly, kindly, completely the opposite of how he'd talked to you before, "When you're finished, of course."
"Oh, yeah, sure," your words are broken and awkward, "Uh, I'll meet you...?"
"I'll be outside the main doors," he says quickly, "Take your time."
"Okay, I'll be out in a few."
He nods to you and then to your friends, then turns on his heel and walks out through the big double doors at the end of the dining area. You watch him go, bewildered.
"I thought he hated you," one of your friends says, voicing exactly what you're currently thinking.
"Yeah," you reply, furrowing your brow, "So did I."
You finish your story much quicker than intended and shove away from the table, waving goodbye to your friends and bringing your empty dish to the cleaning station. You push past the double doors and scan the outside area for Joel, eyeing the picnic tables where a few people are enjoying their meals in the fresh air.
"Hey," you hear behind you, and you turn to see him leaning against the left side of the building, arms crossed, "Over here."
You walk over, trying to plan out exactly what you're going to say so you don't end up making some stupid joke again that'll push him further away from you. It turns out you don't need to, because he speaks first.
"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry," he says it seriously, a soft and genuine look in his brown eyes, "I treated you horribly the other day, you didn't deserve that."
You raise an eyebrow, "Did Tommy put you up to this?"
He frowns, "No."
"Are you sure? 'Cause if he did...I mean, I get it. It's nice of him to look out for me like that but you really don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything, I'm the one who said the tactless joke."
"Tommy didn't say anything to me," he seems to mean it, kicking the toe of his boot against the building, "And I know you were joking, I knew it then too but I'd just..." he takes a breath, avoiding eye contact, "I was havin' a bad day. Doesn't excuse my behavior by any means but it...you just..." he finally looks at you again, expression pained, "I wasn't expectin' you to be there. Tommy only told me you were takin' over for him about ten minutes before you showed up. And then I thought you were a kid and-"
You put your hand up, silencing him, "Joel, it's okay. You don't have to explain."
"I didn't even shake your damn hand," he says gruffly, sounding genuinely ashamed.
You extend your hand to him immediately, splaying your fingers out into the cold air, "Here, shake it now." He stares at it, unsure, and you wiggle it a bit in response, "Seriously, it's okay. Let's start over, clean slate."
He slowly reaches up to take it, his much bigger hand enveloping yours completely. His grip is strong and firm and you can feel calluses along his fingers, showing you exactly who taught Ellie how to play that guitar.
"Clean slate," he repeats, and it begins.
-
He's annoying, but you kinda love it.
He's grumpy most of the time, hates when you don't obey his orders, isn't afraid to give you shit, and gets irritated with you very easily. But it goes both ways. You're stubborn and set in your ways, you hate being told what to do, you dish it just as much as you take it, and it doesn't take much to get you riled up. And somehow, as much as you'd both probably hate to admit it, you work well together.
After your little conversation with Joel outside the dining hall, you'd flagged down Tommy and told him you were willing to try again with Joel on another patrol. He'd looked at you like you were crazy but hadn't shot the idea down, telling you that if it's what you really wanted, he'd keep the schedule the same.
You've been up on the mountain with Joel three times now, and while there's certainly been challenges and a few arguments, it's starting to become a routine. He doesn't talk about himself - it's a bit of an unspoken rule that you dare not break - but in return you don't tell him much about you either. Your main conversation points are usually tied to your interests, not your pasts, and you find yourself discussing movies with him, as well as music and books. He's surprisingly well-read for someone in an apocalypse, but you suppose he could say the same thing about you.
-
The fourth trip is what sets things in motion.
"Did you catch the movie last night?" you ask nonchalantly as you hike beside him, almost to the ski lodge. It's early morning, around five, and the sun is just beginning to crest the tree line, "I don't think Maria knew about the sex scene."
He groans, reaching up to rub the space between his eyes - you've noticed that he does this a lot, a quirk you've become rather fond of.
"Yes," he replies, wincing, "I heard her givin' Tommy a piece of her mind afterwards."
"The way she was yelling for him to turn off the projector was so fucking funny," you grin at the memory, still fresh in your mind, "And listen, I get it, sex is taboo, yada yada yada, but it's not like there were any little kids there last night, it was just the teens. And it's not like it was a porno or something, it was one little sex scene."
"Oh, I know, but I think Maria's trying to keep 'em as innocent as possible for as long as she can."
"Good luck with that," you snort, "I think we all lost our innocence a long time ago, for better or for worse."
"For worse," he replies instantly, "Definitely for worse."
"You're probably right," you grimace, "Although, you know what? I've actually never seen a porno."
He raises an eyebrow at you, "Seriously? Never?"
You bristle slightly, suddenly a little self conscious, "Well, it's not like there's an adult video store in this town, is there?" You can remember them existing when you were a kid, before everything happened, but it's not like you'd had any use for them at that time.
"No, you're right," he turns away from you, lost in thought for a moment, "They do still exist though. Pornos, I mean. Just in other forms. There's a stack of magazines up at the ski lodge, actually."
Your eyes go wide, "Wait, really?"
"Yup."
"Could I maybe..." you trail off and stop speaking, realizing that you should definitely not be asking what you're thinking.
"Look at 'em?" he finishes for you, not looking behind him as he keeps walking, "And you call me a pervert."
The conversation ends there, and you don't dare try to continue it.
-
The day is spent keeping watch along the ski lodge balcony, binoculars passed back and forth as you trade shifts and chat here and there about irrelevant things. Your main objective in this patrol spot is to keep watch of the main watchtower's blind spots, keeping an aerial view of the border perimeter in case people - mainly raiders - decide to make themselves known. You'd thought early on in your admittance to Jackson that infected were their main concern, but you've come to learn that's not the case at all. When Joel had said they'd come across infected up here he'd been lying to you; they'd actually come across a group of raiders who'd tried - and failed - to murder Joel and Tommy during their watch. Not the most reassuring thing to hear now that you've taken over, but you needed to know.
"It's why we got the trip wires down near the entrance now," Joel had explained to you during your second patrol with him, "We won't get snuck up on again," he'd made a face, "Not unless someone decides to disobey my orders."
You'd given him a weak smile, remembering how you'd decided not to heed his warning about going outside the ski lodge after light's out and ended up almost getting your leg shot off by a booby trap, "My bad." He'd rolled his eyes and grumbled to himself.
Now that it's your fourth watch you've gotten the hang of things and have learned to enjoy the semi-solitude of being on the mountain with Joel. He's got a battery operated radio and a box of cassette tapes that keep you from being bored out of your mind, plus a few containers of books that he and Tommy had carried up over the course of a few patrols. Now that you really think about it, you don't remember seeing any of the aforementioned porn Joel had spoken of in any of those crates.
It's midday when you decide to glance through them again out of curiosity, handing the binoculars over to Joel and slipping past him as he traipses out onto the balcony. You head for the boxes immediately and start to dig through them, not sure exactly what you're even looking for. Someone naked, you guess.
"They're not in there," Joel calls to you after a few minutes and you stiffen, turning to look at him through the glass where he can very clearly see what you're doing. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face and you feel your skin flush red.
"I don't know what you're even talking about," you call back, walking away from the books and plopping yourself in the chair by the unlit fireplace, which has somehow become your chair via another unspoken rule, "I was looking for a tape."
"Okay, well the 'tape' you're looking for is in the back of the supply closet," he sounds like he's fighting back laughter and your skin burns even more, "Underneath a box of cleaning supplies."
"I'm ignoring you," you yell out, "Get back to work."
You swear you hear a muffled laugh through the glass.
-
When he comes in from his shift he barely looks at you, just pushes past you lightly and heads for the supply closet. You follow behind him, heart pounding a bit harder in your chest the closer you get to the stash. He opens the closet door and you watch as he yanks out the cleaning supplies, then digs a bit deeper and reappears with six or seven magazines in his arms.
"Here," he leans them toward you and you hesitantly reach forward to take them from him, "They're mostly from the 90s."
"And you know this because....?" you raise an eyebrow and you swear his cheeks go pink.
"I'm a man," he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant as he passes you again to head back to the living room.
"Perv," you call after him, but he doesn't turn around this time.
"You got ten minutes."
-
You've never seen so much nudity in your life, which is saying something considering you'd seen your fair share of it back in your QZ when life had been a bit easier. But seeing it on paper, in photographs that have somehow lasted through years of this shitty reality, it's something else entirely. You stare with wide eyes at the onslaught of naked bodies, most of which are posed in extremely graphic sexual positions, and feel your heart continue to pound in your chest.
Without much thought you'd opened the first magazine right there where Joel left you standing outside the supply closet, and you now find yourself sitting in said closet with your flashlight aimed at the pages, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend exactly how you feel about what you're looking at. A lot of it feels kind of fake, especially the looks on the faces of the models, but there's enough sexual energy there that makes you start to feel a bit wet in your underwear, a feeling you haven't experienced for quite some time; not since a few a years ago in the QZ when you'd been in your last relationship.
"I gave you ten minutes," you suddenly hear Joel say from the other room, and you quickly scramble to your feet and frantically shut the magazine, "In case you forgot, it's your turn."
"Fuck," you trip out of the closet and dash to the living room, clutching your brand new collection of media to your chest, "Sorry, I got distracted."
He stands by the balcony door and looks you over quickly, eyes scanning from the magazines to your face and back again, "Enjoy yourself?" his expression is unreadable and it makes you self conscious.
"Oh please," you reply, making a face, "Do not start."
-
"So which was your favorite?" he asks you casually once darkness has fallen and you're both safely settled in the lodge for the night.
"Which what?"
He looks at you from over his book and gives you a look, like he's questioning your sanity. You stare for a moment and then slap your hand over your eyes when you realize.
"Oh for fuck's sake," you groan, "I'm never gonna hear the end of this now, am I?"
He laughs and you look over at him again, laying there on the couch with a smug look on his face. You retaliate by grabbing the pillow behind you and tossing it at him, making him drop the book he's reading.
"Hey!" he reaches down to pick it up again, "I showed them to you, I'm allowed to ask."
"False," you say, flipping your hair, "And for your information, I only managed to look at one of them."
He chuckles to himself and returns to his book, "Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. I was just kiddin'."
"Joel Miller? Kidding?" you make a faux-shocked face, "I fear we've entered the Twilight Zone."
"Don't even pretend you know what that is," he says it seriously but his smile betrays him, "You didn't know about the Twilight Zone 'til I told you about it last week."
"That's just what I wanted you to think."
He rolls his eyes and keeps reading, letting the silence take over again. You watch his eyes scan the page back and forth, taking in the story - whatever it is - and transporting himself to another world, away from the ski lodge. He does this every patrol once it's too dark to see outside, sets the battery powered lantern to its highest setting and reads until he falls asleep. You wish you had his concentration and focus; instead, you curl up in the red armchair and force your eyes shut until your thoughts quiet down enough to let you sleep. Which is difficult tonight especially, seeing as all you can think about are those damn magazines.
After about five more minutes of silence you take a deep breath, then quietly say, "The one with the blonde girl in the bunny ears."
You don't dare look at him, waiting for his response and focusing instead on the empty fireplace beside you. You hear the crinkling of paper as he dogears the page of his book and then the gentle thud as he places it on the floor.
"That's a good one," he says just as quietly.
Another moment of silence passes, and your skin feels like it's on fire as you whisper, "I like the page where she's like...bent over."
"I can't remember the pages, if I'm being honest," he replies, "I haven't looked at them in a while."
You nod to yourself, "Well, there's this page where the guy has her bent over a table. And he's like...pounding into her from behind." You wait for him to say something else but he doesn't so you continue, "It's one of the only pages where she actually looks like she's enjoying herself."
"Hey, uh, I really was just kiddin'," he says awkwardly, "You don't have to tell me, it's okay."
"Oh," you can't help but sound dejected and embarrassed, your fingers trembling a little bit as you push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Sorry."
"I mean, if you want to, you can," he corrects, sounding slightly embarrassed himself, "I know you probably....you probably want to talk about it."
You bite down on your lip and sigh exasperatedly, placing your hands over your face, "Kinda," you mumble against your fingers, "It's all I can think about right now."
"Did it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, voice still gentle, "A lot of people are offended by that kinda stuff, you wouldn't be the first person to find it weird."
"It's definitely weird," you take a shaky breath and drop your hands, "But no, I'm not uncomfortable. It was....I mean, it was hot," you bite your lip, "I haven't even thought about sex for a long time so it made me...uh..."
The silence is deafening and apparently neither of you wants to break it as you sit there without speaking, letting your words hang in the dead air. You suddenly feel like you want to crawl out of your skin for saying anything to begin with, for even asking about the magazines in the first place.
"Wet?" he suddenly says, voice breaking a bit, "It made you wet?"
"Very," you reply, relieved that he's not freaked out and trying to change the subject.
"Well, that's normal," he says, voice stiff.
You can't help but laugh, finally peering over at him and seeing that he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling, "I know it's normal, Joel. It's not my first time being turned on, trust me."
"Well, what am I supposed to say?" he grumbles, looking at you in exasperation, "You can't just say that and expect me to give you a casual response. It made you wet, you got turned on, congratulations."
You stare at him, watching as he reaches for his book again, "Wait," you clamor out of the chair and reach beneath it to grab the magazine you'd looked at earlier. You shuffle over to him, thumbing through the pages until you find the right one, "Here," you open to the correct page and show it to him, "This is the one I'm talking about."
His eyes assess the page, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat as he takes in what you were referring to. He nods slowly, "Okay yeah, I see what you mean. She's about to come, that's why she looks like that."
Your brow furrows, "You can tell that from a picture?"
He shrugs, eyes still on the magazine, "Well, see, he's rubbin' her clit," he points to it and your face goes hot again, "And he's fuckin' her pretty hard. So yeah, I'd say she's either already comin' or about to." his gaze shifts back to you, noticing that you're staring, and he awkwardly pushes the magazine back toward you, "What?"
"I just..." you swallow, shaking your head apologetically, "Sorry, it just sounded really dirty hearing you say that."
He suddenly looks uncomfortable, shifting on the couch and leaning away from you as he crosses his arms, "Well, you asked."
"I know, I don't mean it in a bad way," you step back and realize you're suddenly throbbing in your jeans, feeling that familiar wetness again, "It just... hearing you say it out loud like that, it makes the picture hotter, somehow."
He looks at you, gaze trailing from your eyes to your lips. You suddenly feel like you've said too much, exposed even though you're fully dressed, and you walk back over to the chair and quickly plop back down in it. You give him another look and see his lips parting like he's going to say something else. Instead he takes a breath and drops his eyes from your face, twisting around on the couch to face the opposite way, "It's late, we should sleep."
"Y-yeah," you breathe, crossing your legs, heart stuttering as your clothed core presses wetly against the denim of your jeans. "You're right."
You curl back up in the chair and try to calm your breath, slow your heart, try not to focus too much on the fact that hearing Joel of all people say the phrases he's rubbin' her clit and fuckin' her pretty hard has made you start falling to pieces. Do you even see Joel that way? Has there ever been a moment where you found yourself thinking about him like that? You want to tell yourself the answer is no, that your body is simply experiencing some pent-up sexual frustration and he has nothing to do with it, but you know you'd be lying to yourself.
He's hot. It's not some shocking revelation or something you've realized over time. There's a reason you'd felt so drawn to him that first day in the dining hall, a reason you'd watched out for him every day and hoped he'd notice you. Hell, there's a reason you're still doing patrols with him despite him being a pain in the ass. You're not an idiot, you know yourself well enough by now to know what these things mean.
You're attracted to him. You've been attracted to him this whole damn time.
You shut your eyes tight and curl up into a ball, holding your knees to your chest. He's rubbin' her clit, his voice echoes in your mind, and your cunt begins to ache.
Stop thinking about it, you shake his words away and try to focus on falling asleep. There's no way you're gonna touch yourself right now, not with him in the room, and you're not gonna excuse yourself either like some horny teenager. You can do this, you can get through it, it'll go away soon.
-
It doesn't go away.
About twenty minutes later you're still sitting there with your eyes shut, trying your hardest not to touch yourself. But it's so fucking difficult. His words are playing on a loop in your head, over and over, soft yet rough, kind yet sexy, his southern drawl making it all the more hotter:
She's about to come, that's why she looks like that.
He's rubbin' her clit.
He's fuckin' her pretty hard.
I'd say she's either already comin' or about to.
You squirm in the chair, imagining what he'd sound like whispering that in your ear with his fingers pumping in and out of you as you came undone beneath him. Rubbin' her clit, his voice breathes in your mind, fuckin' her pretty hard, she's about to come.
You're ten seconds from breaking your own rule and heading back to the supply closet to find some release when you hear an unfamiliar sound coming from a few feet away. Your eyes flutter open, thoughts stopping momentarily as you try to figure out what it is. You turn slightly in your chair to see if Joel hears it too, and you feel your breath stop completely.
He's turned off the lantern so you can't see him properly, but you can make out the shadow of him in the moonlight, see the long shape of him directly mirrored against the floorboards and his hand stroking himself up and down, quick and rough. Your lips part in disbelief, realizing the noise you're hearing is the sound of his palm slapping against the base of his cock as he jacks himself off.
You've gotta be fucking kidding me.
Here you've been, desperately trying to push away any and all sense of desire so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself, wouldn't make him uncomfortable, and here he is doing that exact thing. Angrily, almost out of spite, you sit up in the chair and stuff your hand down your jeans.
Two can play at that game, asshole.
Your finger goes straight to your clit and you begin to rub it furiously, eyes trained on the dark outline of his hand moving up and down. You can only vaguely make out the shape of him but it's enough to make you start dripping, the base of your palm getting slick as you stimulate yourself continuously. He's well endowed, that much is obvious, and you watch his silhouette as he releases his large cock for a moment to bring his hand to his mouth and lick a stripe along his palm. You have to bite down on your lip to suppress the moan that threatens to bubble from your throat at the action, watching through lidded eyes as he brings his wet hand back down and fists himself once more.
Without much thought you slip your middle finger inside yourself, eyes trained on him as you pretend it's his cock pushing past your entrance. It's pretty difficult to imagine though, considering his cock is probably five times as girthy as your one finger, but you make do. You can kind of make out the shape of the tip, wide and shiny, disappearing and reappearing over and over. You slip a second finger inside and bite back a whimper.
The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin and the sudden wet squelch of your fingers; you don't even bother to try and make it softer, you're getting off now whether he knows or not, the fullness overwhelming you as you lick your lips and furrow your brow. You haven't masturbated in a long time; you know it won't take you long to get what you need.
"Are you-" he suddenly gasps into the darkness, and your head snaps up to look at him again, heart pounding when you see that his hand has stilled on his cock and he's looking over at you with an expression of pure disbelief.
You should probably be embarrassed, apologetic, but instead you can't help but feel a rush of pride, of spite, as he realizes what you're doing.
"Like you're not," you hiss back, practically spitting as you continue to fuck yourself, "I'm not deaf."
"Thought you were sleepin'," he says back, and you can see his fingers clench around his length, like he's doing everything in his power not to stroke himself.
"And that makes it less weird?"
He groans and lets go of himself completely, sitting up slightly on the couch and shaking his head like he's trying to wake himself up from a dream he isn't having. When he looks at you again his eyes fall to where you're still getting off, not bothering to be sneaky about the way he practically bores a hole in your jeans with his gaze.
"So what are you gonna do about it?" he challenges gruffly, eyes coming back up to meet yours, the hint of a cocky smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.
Oh, he's proud of himself, isn't he?
You glare at him, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going," you mean it too, fingers not even slowing down as you pant breathlessly in his direction, "And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."
It does matter, actually, it really does. If he was to get up and walk out... it would basically be a rejection, something you're not sure you'll be able to deal with. You don't break eye contact with him, staring him down as you give him your own challenge.
He swallows, gives you one last look, and then flops back down into a horizontal position as he reaches for himself again. He returns to his quick strokes, almost purposely more heavy this time as he mutters, "No talking. Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"
"Deal," you reply immediately, and add a third finger.
It doesn't take long for you to find your release, a particularly hard slap of skin from Joel on the couch pushing you over the edge. You don't try to stifle your moan this time, focusing completely on enjoying your orgasm as your hand stills in your pants and you begin to shake in the chair. Your hips buck pathetically, eyes shutting tight as you whimper and cry out in pleasure.
"Jesus Christ," you hear Joel pant a few seconds afterward, followed by a long groan as he starts to come too, "Fuck."
You manage to catch a glimpse of the way he twists his wrist, aims his cock against his button-down and stains it with his release. You wish you had a better view, that it wasn't so dark, but just hearing him come apart is enough. It's exactly what you hoped it would be.
You lay there in silence for a few moments, both of you panting breathlessly from your orgasms as the weight of what you've just done starts to creep in. You're suddenly slightly afraid of what he'll say, what he'll do. Will he get mad? Will he say he doesn't want to patrol with you anymore? You decide immediately that you don't want him to have the first word.
"What were you thinking about?" you ask, barely a whisper.
It takes a few moments for him to reply, and you start to worry that you've already ruined everything, but then he answers.
"Bunny ears," he says quietly.
"What?"
"I was thinkin' about the bunny ear girl," he's still breathless, "From the magazine. Weren't you?"
You figure you can't dig the hole any deeper.
"I was just watching you, Joel," you breathe, feeling butterflies tingle in your belly at the words, "Didn't have to think about anything else."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, then mumbles something to himself that you don't understand. You can't fully make out his expression but you swear you see him frown in the moonlight, not exactly the response you were aiming for. He suddenly turns on the couch again to face away from you, exhaling loudly, "Go to sleep."
The words strike you hard, lips parting in surprise. You obviously hadn't expected him to completely reciprocate, to jump into your arms and kiss you, but that? "Go to sleep"? What the fuck kind of a response is that? You stare at him, hoping against reason that he'll turn around again and apologize, say something different, but he doesn't.
"Yeah, sure," you mutter, curling back up into a ball in the chair and hoping sleep finds you as soon as possible so you don't have to think anymore, "Asshole."
You hope he hears you.
-
You wake the next morning to the sound of someone rummaging nearby, and you open your eyes blearily to see Joel crouched near the door, packing his bag. You stretch and yawn automatically, momentarily forgetting what had transpired between the two of you last night. His head tilts up to look at you and it all comes flooding back when you see that familiar frown on his face.
"Do you ever smile?" you say, voice rough with sleep.
He rolls his eyes and goes back to his pack, shaking his head, "Like you're so chipper."
"Well, at least I have a good reason to be annoyed," you snap, sitting up in the chair and stretching your legs, "Asshole."
"You love to call me that, don't you?"
"Just calling it like I see it," you mutter, pulling yourself up and heading past him to the door, "I'm taking a piss."
"Watch out for th-"
"The trip wires, I know," you interrupt coldly, "I'm not an idiot."
He doesn't say anything else but you feel his eyes on your back as you walk out onto the balcony and down the steps. You both have to pee in the woods when you're out here - the ski lifts aren't the only things that don't work properly anymore - so you've managed to each figure out your own designated area. You feel relieved once you're out of his eyesight and beneath the thick layer of tree branches that keep your makeshift bathroom secluded.
You really shouldn't be so pissed at him, it's not like he owes you anything. You know you're projecting your own feelings onto him and that it isn't fair, but god, him telling you to go to sleep after you'd essentially confessed your attraction to him makes your blood boil. He'd really had nothing else to say? Couldn't have come up with something a little softer, a little kinder? Let you down easy?
You grumble to yourself on the way back up the steps, questioning whether or not you should keep ignoring him or just get over it. Is it really worth an hours hike of hostility? You already know this is your last shift with him, there's no way you can come back from this in any way that will keep your dignity intact. It's over.
"You say you're not a kid but you sure do act like one," Joel says the second you re-enter the ski lodge, and you stop dead in your tracks. He's got his arms crossed, nose flaring in anger, "I'm sick and tired of the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, all that shit. What happened to people just talkin' to each other?"
You shut the door behind you and shake your head, "I'm not giving you the silent treatment Joel, calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down," his voice is firm but you can hear some emotion there, something deeper. He doesn't like being ignored and you know why, but it doesn't soften your resolve.
"I'm pissed at you, yeah," you admit, shrugging, "But I think I have a pretty valid reason."
"And what is it?"
You stare, scrunching up your face in confusion, "Are you serious? Jesus, Joel, I thought you were smart."
"Oh, fuck off," he grumbles, rolling his eyes again, "I ain't a mind reader."
You shake your head again, inhaling deeply, "I'm not asking you to read my mind, Joel," you exhale and try to calm yourself, feeling the angry tears begin to sting your eyes. God, you hate how emotional you get when you're angry. You hate showing weakness like this.
"Then tell me," he groans, "Is it about last night? 'Cause I thought we made a deal that we're not gonna talk about it."
You laugh at his words, cold and hard, "Right, yeah, sorry. Deal's a deal, right? My bad," you couldn't sound more sarcastic if you tried, stuffing your roll of toilet paper back in your pack and zipping it up, "Come on, let's just head back and forget about it." Your voice cracks on the last few words and you bite down hard on your lip, feeling the tears spill over.
"Are you crying?" his voice falters, and you hear a twinge of kindness in his tone, something you'd desperately wanted to hear last night.
He crosses the room before you even have a chance to reply, striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder firmly, making you turn around. His face softens immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the tears you're already trying to wipe away.
"Fuck," he says, brow furrowing in concern, "I'm sorry."
You snort involuntarily, shaking your head, "I'm just stupid."
"You're not stupid," it's almost a whisper, "I'm the stupid one, believe me," he brings his hand up like he's going to touch your face but seems to think better of it, bringing it back to your shoulder again, "I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinkin' last night, I'm sorry. You showed me that magazine and-"
You put your hand up to silence him, "I don't care about why, Joel. I don't even care that you did it, it's not like I told you to stop."
His brow furrows deeper, "Then what...?"
You close your eyes, breathing deeply before putting on your best impression of him and mumbling, "Go to sleep," like he had the night before, opening your eyes again to see if he understands.
He stares at you for a few seconds, confused, but you watch as it suddenly dawns on him, realization spreading across his features. He suddenly lets go of your shoulder and takes a few steps back, eyes falling to the floor.
"You can't... you can't think of me that way," he says it gruffly, swallowing and shaking his head.
You stand there without saying anything, waiting until he finally looks back up at you to speak. When he does, you make sure to look directly in his eyes.
"Why not?"
His hand comes up to touch the back of his neck and you swear you see patches of red begin to bloom along his collarbone, like he's embarrassed...or flattered? You take a step forward and he quickly takes another step backward.
"If it's because of the age thing... I really don't care, Joel," you say earnestly, heart beginning to beat heavily in your chest, "I think you're..." You can't believe the words are even coming out of your mouth, the tears on your face already beginning to dry as you try to process this new situation you've found yourself in, "I think you're sexy."
His brow furrows again, not in anger but in confusion. He doesn't take another step backward when you move toward him this time, staying rooted in place as you peer up at him, waiting for him to speak. He remains silent, his eyes trained directly on your face, lips set in a firm line.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
He shakes his head slowly, "I don't."
"Why?"
He doesn't reply, just keeps staring at you like he has absolutely no idea what to say. You suddenly feel the need to reassure him, comfort him. Your hand moves upward, aching to cup his face in your hand, feel that grey scruff beneath your palm.
He pulls back before you get the chance, shaking his head again, "Don't," it's barely a whisper, voice breaking as he says it, "Just...gimme a minute."
"Okay," you nod, dropping your hand, "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizin'," he breathes, still not breaking eye contact, "Just let me think, please."
You swallow, teeth tugging on your lip as he continues to stand there motionless. He's still looking at you but his thoughts are miles away; you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, calculating exactly what he's supposed to do in a situation like this. Part of you wants him to kiss you, part of you wants to kiss him, part of you wants to wait until he makes a decision. You settle firmly on the third option.
"I lied," he finally breaks the silence, jaw tense and firm, "I wasn't thinkin' about that fuckin' bunny ear model."
Your lips part; you hadn't been expecting him to say that.
"Then...what were you thinking about?" You already know the answer before he replies.
"You," his voice is strained, broken, like he's holding himself back, "I was thinkin' about you and the stupid magazines in the supply closet."
You feel your skin flush, a tingle trailing up the back of your neck as you try not to show him how pleased you are, "W-what?"
"I couldn't stop thinkin' about you in that closet, lookin' at those pictures, getting...." he trails off and swallows, then whispers, "Wet. Gettin' all wet in your panties from that girl getting fucked."
His words send an immediate throb to your core and you can feel your heart in your throat, pounding relentlessly as he continues to speak, continues to say exactly what's been on his mind as you stand in front of him, so much smaller than him, letting his words get lost in the sudden warmth of your body and the buzz of your thoughts.
"I couldn't stop thinkin' about it," he repeats, voice rough, eyes dark, "Your wet panties, your big eyes, your..." he practically chokes then, "Your pussy, all wet and aching."
"Oh my god," you whimper, crossing your legs involuntarily as you feel an immediate surge of wetness in your underwear, "Please, keep talking, please."
"Wanted to see it and touch it," he murmurs, his breath ghosting across your face as he peers down at you with desire in his eyes, "Wanted to fuck it and make you come."
Without hesitation your arms shoot up to wrap around his neck, burying your face in his warm chest and tugging at the collar of his coat, "I want you to," you practically moan, clawing at the material, "Joel, I need you to fuck me right now."
To your absolute dismay he reaches up and removes your arms from him, taking a step back so neither of you are touching. His eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide and that red blush of heat now spread all over his neck and cheekbones.
"I can't," he says, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, I can't."
You're about to protest, whine and beg if you have to, but his eyes fall to your groin. You watch with wide eyes as he goes for his belt, begins to unloop it and remove it.
"Take your pants off," he groans, and you don't need telling twice.
-
You end up masturbating together again, this time in the light of day. You find yourselves laying on the couch where he'd slept last night, the memory of what he'd done there fresh in your mind as you pump two fingers in and out of yourself steadily and watch him stroke his cock to match your pace. He watches you behind hooded eyes, his lips parted as he pants and gets himself off to your pleasure, watches you do the same thing to him.
"That's it," he murmurs, eyes scrunching in arousal as he scans your face, watches you come undone, "Rub your clit, nice and fast."
You whimper, unable to hold on for much longer as you eye his cock and see the way the fat head of it drips for you, slicking his hand and allowing him to stroke faster and faster. You want to say something to help get him off too but your words are completely lost in the sensation; you couldn't speak even if you wanted to.
He knows you're about to come, can see it in your face the way he saw it in the face of the model in the picture. He swallows heavily and fucks himself impossibly faster, harder, silently asking you to match his pace. You do it, thumbing your clit and feeling the tense coil in your belly snap as your jaw drops and you let out a long and ridiculously loud moan. Your eyes shut tight and you throw your head back, feeling your body begin to shake from the stimulation.
"There you go," he grunts, and you hear the slapping of skin stop as he rides out his own release, coming into his fist, "Fuck." Your eyes open at just the right time to see his jaw go slack, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the pleasure. It somehow makes you ache for more, even though you can't possibly imagine being any more overstimulated than you already are.
You both lay there, chests heaving, hearts pounding, completely undone. It goes without saying that you've both just managed to each have one of the best orgasms of your lives.
"New patrol rule," you whisper to him, legs still wide and cunt dripping with your release, "We do this. Every time. Please."
"Yes," he replies immediately, still catching his breath, "I can do that."
-
"It can't be any more than this," Joel says to you quietly as you hike down the mountain a little while later, the sunrise cresting the trees again the way it had yesterday when you'd hiked up; it's like nothing has changed, but you both know that everything has.
"Okay," you say just as softly, though part of you aches to reach for his hand, loop your pinky through his and have some degree of touch between you. But you can tell he means business, that there won't be any more discussion on the matter today.
"Just this," he whispers, glancing at you with a meaningful look, eyes soft and tender as he peers at you, knowing what he's done, what he's started.
"Just this," you agree, but you don't really believe it.
You hope, deep down, neither does he.
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thank you so much for reading! there will be more in this collection coming very soon. i'd like to do some short fics of certain nights they've had, especially the first time he calls her a good girl. that was originally going to be in this part but it was just getting wayyy too long and i have so many ideas i need to flesh out more lol. i'm also going to continue where they left off in "don't think we could help it", and yes, eventually they will do the deed, i promise. among other things....
if you liked it, please let me know! and again, if you'd like to give me a tip you can do so on my kofi 💖
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