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papaya-twinks · 3 months

Note

Kikaaaa im really in love with your writing 😭✊🏻

Could I please ask for a Lando short fic?

I was thinking about something in the scenario where the reader is a currently Redbull driver, but has known and been an opponent of Lando since the karting days. Despite them being rivals, they don't hate each other and are always making jokes with each other, about something that went wrong in the race or about the strategies the team made for them etc.

On this specific day the reader was a little more upset with her result in the race and when Lando comes to make a joke about it she gets really angry and Lando doesn't understand. The discussion ends up turning into provocations about the reader's sex life and they end up in bed, to relieve the sexual tension they built up during the day.

I would be forever grateful if you wrote something about this 🫶🏻✨

Warnings: Angst, smut, 18+, sexual tension, praise

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - chat this request just jumped the queue of my other 12 because oh my word, I’ve never read a request that makes me feel so good. LIKE CHAT??? First and last lines had me in love <3 it’s not short coz I can’t make it short with all the detail

“That’s P2, well done Y/N,” your engineer said on the radio as you smiled. “Who’s third?” you were already aware your team mate, Max, would be first. “Norris in third,”. Your smile grew even more - though you’d been competing against Lando from a very young age, but the bond between the two of you was unbreakable. Not as in friends, you were friends, but not close.

You drove into the pits, thanking the team as usual as you drove into your second place spot, seeing the orange car on the other side of the Max’s. “Nice job, Y/N,” Max shook your hand as you stepped out the car. “Cheers,”. You were distracted by the voice of Lando, waving to you from where his team were standing. “Nice one Y/L/N,” he said, lock-in your sides as you avoided his finger.

“Thanks, Norris,” you said, emphasising his surname, as he sighed, “another result ahead of me,” he sighed dramatically. “Can’t help I’m just better,” you shrugged as Lando rolled his eyes, watching you take the microphone for the interview, poking your tongue out at him. That’s how your friendship worked - constant teasing between each other.

“For fucks’ sake,” you groaned, watching as the cars raced past you, the smoke fogging from your engine. You’d been so close to winning the Grand Prix and there it went, an engine failure, wow. “Y/N, retire the car, please,” your engineer said. “Fuck!” you groaned, pulling into the pit lane, driving into the garage. You’d been on a streak of getting podiums since the start of the season, and now, there it went, your win and your podium.

You stayed in the garage to watch the race, Max in first, followed by Lando, then Oscar. “C’mon,” one of the engineers tugged your arm to stand under the podium and watch the celebrations. “Bad luck, Y/N, sorry,” Max said, shaking your hand as you nodded. And then, Lando came. “Aww, someone crashed?” he raised an eyebrow. Usually, you’d be okay with it, but being so close to a race win?

It hurt. “Well fuck you,” you put on a sarcastic smile, ignoring the hand he’d put out to shake. “Alright then,” he held his hands up in mock surrender, “someone’s in a mood,”. You rolled your eyes at his words, turning, ignoring him pointedly, and watching the podium. As you walked back of the garage, to mull over your result and what you did wrong (even though you did nothing), you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Y/N,” a voice said, stern and cold, from behind you. You turned around, raising an eyebrow to Lando. He was covered in champagne, his eyes half narrowed. “I thought I said fuck off,” you said, without really thinking about it, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? Well I don’t wanna,” Lando said, making you stop where you were walking.

“What do you want, Lando?” you paused. “To know why you’re having a goddamn tantrum over one DNF?”. That made you scoff, he clearly didn’t understand how you felt. “Lando, I was so close to a win, and it wasn’t even my fault!” you snapped, crossing your arms. “Guess you and your engine have something in common, you both blow up at random fucking points!” his tone was harsh and disgusted.

“Cheers, Lando,” you scoffed, turning away. “Why did you have to yell at me? We make jokes like that every time. You did last time, too!” he snapped, his price way too high than to just accept it. You said nothing, watching his outburst. “Oh yeah, sorry I interrupted your little eye fucking session with Max,” Lando spoke sarcastically, making your ears perk up.

“Excuse me?” you snapped, hands on your hips. “Oh, so you reply when Max is involved? Yeah, Y/N, all you two do is eye fuck in the cool-down room, I hate being there with you lot,” he said, venom in his voice as you paused. “Seriously, Lando? You sound desperate,” you laughed sarcastically. “Desperate? Really?” he snorted, “You’re out here looking like the desperate slut with those ridiculous little puppy eyes you pull on him,”.

You’d never heard anything to stupid, but your attention focused on one word. “A slut? Really?” you scoffed, “You go round fucking whatever girl looks remotely pretty, every single decently attractive girl will end up in your bed for one night, then they’ll be out,” you spat. “You’re such a prude, god, Y/N,” he rolled his eyes, “and ‘every’ attractive girl?” he laughed at your words, the disgust poorly concealed.

“Good job, your ears word,” you jeered, flicking your hair back over his shoulder. “You know that’s not true, Y/N,” he raised his eyebrow. His tone changed momentarily, but it went back to normal. “What?” you asked, bemused at his words. “Haven’t seen you in there, so it’s not every attractive girl, is it?” Lando’s words were quiet, but carried a certain level of power.

You brushed off his comment, not wanting to give it anymore attention than it deserved. “Your point?” you asked, eyebrow raised at his words. “My point is that I’m not the whore, you are,”. Shaking your head, you turned back away from him, walking towards your motor home. “Seriously? You’re just gonna walk off?” he scoffed, following you into the room.

Lando had never been in my room, before, we didn’t maintain that kind of friendship. It was a surprise to me as well as Jim, but I said nothing. “You’re not getting me in your bed, Norris,” you shrugged, taking your Red Bull hat off, along with your coat. “You’re the one undressing,” Lando commented under his breath. “I’m hot,” you said, like it was obvious, which it was, the heat of Spain hitting hard.

“I know you’re hot,” he said, eyebrow raised as his eyes roamed over your body, lingering on your chest. His comments were getting really flirtatious now. “What are you trying to do?” you turned to him, a suspicious look on your face. You watched as he stood a step forwards, a few inches away from you. “Nothing,” Lando took another step forwards, your body pressing against the door.

“Did you know,” he said, eyes dropping momentarily to your chest, “sex is good for stress?”. You did know that, obviously. “You look stressed,” he pointed out, making you pause. “D’you want me to get Max?” he cooed innocently. “Wow, Norris, I don’t know if you’re just stupid, but you’re not Max,” you rolled your eyes, “I don’t want Max,”.

“Right, so what driver then?’ Lando scoffed, his face centimetres from yours. “Oh, I dunno,” you said sarcastically, maybe you?”. The way he froze made a smirk flicker onto your face before it fell as he leaned forwards. “You want me?” he asked slowly, blinking at you, his eyes wide. “I believe I just said that,” you shrugged, eyes rolling.

Lando’s lip curled at your eye roll, his face leaning closer to yours. “Better behave or I’m gonna make them roll for another reason,”. Your cheeks flushed at his words, your eyes wide as his lips bit down on the skin of your neck, your eyes wide. “Lando,” you gasped, his hands tugging at your shirt, breaking off of you to take it off.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” he ran his lips over your jaw as he pulled your baggy trousers down. “Oh fuck,” you moaned as he pushed your knees apart, your legs over his shoulders as he held you against the wall, his tongue against your clothed clit. “Lando,” you mewled, eyes wide as he flicked his tongue, your hand tugging at his curls.

Lando had been picturing this for so long, his head buried between your legs, licking at your sweet goodness, your hands tugging at his hair. Fuck, if he could see this from third person, he’d cum just like that. You rolled your hips softly against his mouth, his tongue pushed your drenched panties to the side. “Someone desperate?” he pulled back, a whine leaving your lips.

“Lando,” you tugged at his curls as he looked at you, standing up fully, his body the same height as you, due to how he was carrying you. “You’re gonna be patient for me,” he said, hand running through your hair, “and you’re gonna be good,”. You nodded, eyes wide as he lifted you onto your bed, your legs slung over his shoulders still.

As he moved you, his finger slid against your wet folds, his thumb toying at your clit, as he pulled inside of you. “Lando, fuck!” you moaned, eyes wide before squeezing shut, your hand instinctively tugging at the waist band of his joggers. “Someone’s needy,” he commented, letting you take his joggers down, his cock springing against his abdomen.

His other hand wrapped around yours, pumping your hand up and down him as he groaned, your body squirming from his fingers. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Lando smirked, your back arching for a second as you wriggled, his fingers pumping in and out, fully. “Open,” he said, his large hand on the back of your head, your lips parting a bit. “Really, Y/N?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“You know won’t fit,” he commented, hand pumping his own cock as you complied, opening further. Instantly, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat, before he fully pulled out, letting you dictate how far in he went. Your hand pumped the parts of his length that you couldn’t reach, his throbbing head hitting the back of your throat as you gagged, Lando’s other hand with his fingers still deep in you.

“Fuck,” he pulled you off, he would cum merely at seeing your pretty little mouth struggling with his length. He lifted you onto his lap, lifting your thighs up, so he could align his throbbing dick with your folds. You whispered as he ran his dick through your folds a few times, before pushing into you slowly, your muscles tensing.

“That’s it,” Lando cooed, one hand holding you up as he sank you down, the other cupping your cheek. “Open,” he said, your mouth falling open instantly. You flinched as he spat into your mouth, pressing his thumb to your tongue as you gagged slightly, resting your body weight on him. Lando turned you over, your body against his, legs round his hips as he slowly pushed into you, and then out again, before he quickened his pace.

Your mouth fell open at his ever quickening speed, his hips slamming into you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other cupping your breasts as you tightened your arm round his neck, your head on his shoulder. “Lando, fuck feels s’good,” you moaned, body rocking quickly at his rough movements.

“Been wanting to fuck you for ages,” he groaned, feeling your nails sink into his backs, clawing desperately, as if scratching would give you your orgasm, “look so pretty taking my cock baby,”. You loved the way he spoke, his words dirty, but his tone soft, so opposing to his rough slams. You felt the knot in your stomach building up at his words, your eyes rolling softly. “Told you I’d make them roll,” he smirked, grinning at you, “look pretty like that,”

The knot in your stomach came undone as you sank your nails into his bare back, his chain dangling on your lips as his hips stuttered, his cheeks flushed red. “Gonna cum in you,” he said gruffly, hips jittering as his slams became messier and messier. “God, fuck,” he groaned, his cum pooling in you, the thick toped ropes hitting your insides as you moaned. “Mmm, fuck me, Lando,” the words came out, not even paying attention to what you were saying.

“Just did,” he said, sitting up, your body slumped on his. “So fucking tight,” he groaned, holding your body as he pulled out, your pussy clenching round him as he did so. “Fuck, baby, you gotta let me go,” Lando chuckled, pulling you off of him fully. “That’s what you get for a DNF,” he snorted as you watched him, panting from your recent orgasm, “let’s see what happens when you win, love,”.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #f1 #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris x reader

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itsallyscorner · 1 year

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Coffee Talk | H.S

pairing: boyfriend!Harry x fem!reader

warnings: it’s supposed to be like a podcast episode so it’s a little long and has a lot of dialogue—just did some experimenting, lmk what you guys think :)

overview: Harry is a guest on your podcast.

a/n: Clearly, I’ve been listening/watching a lot of podcasts. I just like hearing people talk. Reader’s co-host, Mable, is inspired by Selena Gomez <3

Coffee Talk Ep. 96: (Y/n)‘s Boyfriend, Hobama, and Marriage

“Hello friends and welcome back to another episode of Coffee Talk! I’m your host, (Y/n), and I hope you are all doing well!” You waved at the camera doing your usual intro.

You did a drumroll with your hands on the table and continued, “Now, we have an exciting episode for you guys today. You have been asking—basically begging—for us to get this person on the pod and it’s finally happening today! So grab a blanket, get some snacks, and get comfortable, because this is gonna be a fun one!”

The video cuts to your co-host, Mable, who is sitting across from you on a loveseat.

“I feel like we should build the tension before we tell them who it is.” Mabel chimes in, stirring her Starbucks cup (whose label has been covered since you guys aren’t sponsored by Starbies).

“That was a really good segue for Roll Call, Mae.” You pointed out, calling her by her nickname.

“I gotchu, babe.” Mable assured you, throwing a wink in your direction. You laughed and adjusted your legs up on the couch you were on, “Right, so obviously, we have Mable across from me. How are ya, Mae? What’s the coffee order today?”

Mable smiled at you and crossed her legs, “Well since you asked so kindly. I’m doing very great this morning (y/n/n) and I have a caramel macchiato today.”

The video then cuts to Ryland who had a “bitch please” look on his face, “Mable’s only happy because she got laid last night.”

“RYLAND!” Mable screamed in shock, the video cutting to her reaction. The room erupted with laughter as she flipped him off and let empty threats stumble out of her lips at Ryland.

“YOU LITERALLY TEXTED IT IN THE GROUP CHAT!” Ryland stressed, leaning over the table to get closer to Mable. The video moved to you taking a long sip of your coffee while a familiar tattooed arm rested behind you on the couch.

“Clearly, the energy is through the roof today in the pod—we’ll probably get to Mable’s sex life in a bit.” You paused, smirking at your friend, “But back to roll call, we’ve got Ryland on cameras and sound. Ryland, how are you pookie?”

Ryland posed at the camera in front of him and waved wildly at it, “I’m doing swell stinkabutt.”

“What’s your coffee order today—actually Ryland doesn’t have coffee today, he has juice.” You explained to your listeners. Ryland held up his green juice, “Yeah, I’m on a juice cleanse everyone. Me and Sean are going to Aruba in a few weeks and I refuse to work out, so I’m drinking juice instead.”

“You look great Ry.” A voice off camera chimed in. The voice had a distinct accent that could only belong to a specific someone. Ryland smiled at the person, “Thanks Ha—wait I was just about to spoil who it was.” He immediately clasped his hand over his mouth with wide eyes.

“Y’know what, we’ve made you guys wait long enough.” You sighed before continuing, “Our guest is very special to me. He’s a recent Grammy winner, one of the biggest artists in the world, and he happens to be my boyfriend; please welcome to the pod mister Harry Styles!” You cheered, causing everyone in the room to clap. The video finally cut to Harry who was sat next you on a blush pink couch nursing a pastel yellow mug.

Harry adorable scrunched his nose and waved at you all bashfully, “Oh, stop it.”

“How does it feel to be on the pod, Harry?” You asked, turning your body towards him. Harry nodded and looked around the room, “I’m happy to be here, love, thanks f’having me. Also, I like what you’ve guys done to our shed, s’very comfy.”

“I totally forgot we were in your shed.” Ryland chuckled.

“Oh yeah, to everyone listening or watching, we’ve been filming this podcast in Harry and (Y/n)’s backyard.” Mable explained to the audience with a chuckle.

“It’s not a problem honestly, I’m glad you guys are getting some use out of it.” Harry assured you all as he glanced at the decorations around the room. There was an old school looking blush couch in the center of the room, which was across from a burnt mustard colored love seat. While the walls were painted a darker shade of matcha green with fairy lights strung along it.

Harry was seen glancing at the rug as he toed at it with his socked foot. “Where’d y’get the rug?” He asked you.

You peeked at said rug, “Your mom picked it out when she was helping me furniture shop here.” Harry’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape as he leaned back into the cushion, one of his legs crossed beneath him and the other hung off the couch.

“So Harold, what’s the coffee order today?” You motioned to his coffee. He proudly held the yellow mug up and smiled at the camera, “I’ve got my usual black coffee, courtesy of my lovely girlfriend.”

The camera panned to you hiding behind your Starbucks cup trying to hide your heated cheeks.

“And what do you have today, love?” Harry returned the question, naturally fitting into the conversation. You looked at the label on your cup, “I have my usual coffee order—H actually went out on a coffee run for me and Mable, so thank you bubs.” You answered, the corners of your mouth quirked up.

“They make me sick.” Ryland fake gagged.

“Aren’t you also in a relationship?” Mable narrowed her eyes at him. Ryland rolled his eyes at her, “Yeah, but they make me sick in a good way, like the wholesomeness is just too much.”

“What the fuck..”

Harry grinned at Ryland, “Y’gonna be fuckin’ puking by the time we’re done then.”

The camera cut to Mable smirking at you, “I find it so weird how you’re being so quiet.”

“Me?” You pointed at yourself amusingly. Harry glanced at you and visibly scooted closer to you. The sound of equipment being moved can be heard over the audio since Harry attempted to discreetly move his mic stand next to yours.

“Yes ma’am.” Mable nodded. You placed your cup on the round coffee table beside you.

“I don’t know why, but it just settled in that this is us, kind of like hard launching our relationship to the public.” You softly answered, hands fiddling with your (Harry’s) loose knitted sweater.

“But everyone knows you guys are together.” Ryland stated, confusion etched on his features. Harry rose his hand to answer. You giggled at him and nudged his arm, “You don’t need to raise your hand to speak, hun.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head.

“Don’t be.” You chuckled, allowing Harry to continue. “Everyone knows, but we haven’t been very public, y’know? We like keeping things between us. Like, this is the most public we’ve ever been.” He gestures to you guys sitting beside each other.

You chimed in jokingly, “Yeah, this is our first time sitting next to each other—like ever.”

Harry nodded along, “I’m shitting m’pants right now.” He stated, causing a few chuckles in the room.

“How much persuasion did it take for (Y/n) to get you on the pod?” Mable asked Harry, sipping her coffee. Harry’s brows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling.

“Not much. She asked and I was like—yeah, I’m down.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders for emphasis. You chuckled at him and added, “He’s forgetting the part when he admitted that he’s been waiting for me to ask him to guest star.”

“Have you really been waiting?” Ryland questioned your boyfriend. Harry’s brows raised as he exclaimed, “Yes! I bloody have! You guys literally had my sister on here before me!”

You all laughed at his slight frustration, “I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” The camera cuts to you and Harry, your hand squeezing his knee.

“Wait so did you guys meet through Harry’s sister?” Mable asked you both, she then was quick to add, “If you guys don’t mind me asking!”

You waved her off to assure her it was fine.

“We met through his stylist Harry Lambert.” You began before pointing to the camera, “Shout out to Lamby by the way!” Harry followed suit and instead waved at the camera with a lopsided grin.

“Anyway, Lamby and I know each other through work. We’re under the same company and we do similar things, etc. One day he invited me to come out to one of H’s shows, I didn’t have anything better to do, so I decided to go.”

“We met before the show though, remember?” Harry gently interjected, using his arm behind you to tap your shoulder. You nodded, “Yeah we did, I was fortunate enough to meet him before he went out on stage and we got on really well—“

You looked at Harry, “We probably spent about five minutes talking, right?”

“Yeh, it was pretty quick. I don’t know if you felt it at first, but like—Y’know that feeling when you kinda just know a person is gonna have some kind of impact on y’life?” Harry wondered aloud, hands waving around to try and get his point across. Mable and Ryland nodded, making sounds of agreement.

“It was like that and I thought about it the entire time I was on stage. After that everything seemed to fall into place and the rest was history.” Harry finished, smacking his hand on his leg. Ryland was the first to speak, “So after the concert did you try to always come up with an excuse to go to his shows or did you try to persuade Harry Lambert to invite (Y/n) more often?” Ryland pointed between the couple in front of him.

You and Harry stared at each other, his brow raised at you while your eyes squinted at his. Harry stuck his pointer finger out, “Well I got her number after, so I didn’t have to make any excuses for her to be at my shows. I’d invite her, she’d come and watch, then we would hang out after. Sometimes when we were in the same place, we would meet up too.”

“I’m assuming this went on for months?” Mable looked between you and Harry.

“Yeah, but the thing is, he was touring and I was working. So we had to be in different places all the time.” You clarified. Harry picked off where you left, “We managed to make it work though, I don’t think either of us were going to give up that easily.”

The video caught you and Harry gazing into each other’s eyes momentarily.

“Absolutely.” You agreed, scrunching your nose at him, similar to what he did earlier. Mable pouted at the two of you, “You guys are so cute.”

Harry quietly thanked her as he situated himself on the couch again. While Mable and Ryland gushed about how much you guys were “goals”, the famous singer got even more comfortable on the couch. He placed his mug down and leaned his body against your side, he softly took your arm and held it against his chest so you were holding him. He leaned the mic lower so it was closer to him and was mindful of where his feet was to avoid bumping his mug on the floor.

“I’m just curious, but what are like the weirdest rumors have you guys heard about yourselves?” Ryland asked, moving the conversation along.

“I don’t have any.” Mable shrugged.

“Maybe that guy last night can share some, should we call him?” You sang, jokingly pulling out your phone. Mable groaned and slapped her forehead with her palm, “I hate the both of you.”

“I’ve heard stuff about us, but I really think this rumor would be more fun to talk about.” You pondered. Harry shifted his head on your chest to look up at you, “Wha’ rumor?”

The corner of your lip turned into a smirk as you simply said, “Hobama.”

Harry suddenly threw his head back and bursted out laughing.

“Like President Obama?” Ryland screamed in shock, his brows raised to his forehead.

“I honestly don’t know how it started. It randomly popped up on the tabloids and followed me around for years—till this day, might I add!” Harry tried to clarify.

“I feel like it got even worse when Graham asked you about it.” You chuckled, fingers mindlessly playing with Harry’s brunette curls.

“What did Graham ask?” Mable leaned towards the couple.

“He asked if it was true that I had a sexual relationship or affair with Obama—I knew they were gonna ask me about it prior to the show being filmed. But at the time I was like fuck it and just went along w’it.” Harry started, “I didn’t know that it would become an actual thing.” He deadpanned, sending a look at the camera.

“Have there been any Hobama signs at any of your recent shows?” Ryland squinted his eyes at Harry.

“Not a one.” Harry paused, “But after this episode airs, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see a couple in the crowds.”

Mable crossed her arms, “Your shows are very interesting—in a good way—of course.”

“Thank you.” Harry grinned, “Yeh, we’ve got a lot of things going on. Every night it’s like a giant sleep over with a bunch of friends. We sing songs, we dance—“

“Trauma dumping!” Ryland interjected excitedly. Harry gestured to the man opposite him, “Right, we do therapy sessions.”

“Don’t forget the gender reveals, proposals, and helping them come out.” You continued to list, Harry nodding his head at every thing you said.

“Harry’s like a Swiss Army knife, he just does everything.” Mable joked. Ryland sighed and rested his chin in his palm, “You’re so talented.”

“You’re better at controlling cameras and all the sound equipment than me.” Harry acknowledged, raising a brow at him. Ryland snapped his finger at the Brit, “You’re so right, thank you, Harry.”

Harry placed his hand on his heart, “I gotcha man.” You then raised your hand, catching Harry’s attention, “Yes, m’love?”

“Can I just say how proud I am of you and like how insanely successful the tour has been?” You sat up, making Harry sit up as well. He remained close to you, wrapping his arm back around your shoulder. Though your statement made him pout at you, “Y’make my heart feel fuzzy.”

Mable and Ryland audibly awed at the both of you.

“No! Like seriously, it makes me so proud to see how much of a safe space your concert is to all you fans and anyone who steps foot into those shows.” You placed your hand on his tattooed arm and gave it a small squeeze. “I don’t think you realize how much of an impact you make on people’s lives, like we all appreciate you so much and I just wanted to remind you of that.” You shrugged, shrinking into your own shoulders.

“C’mere.” Harry said dragging out his words as he pulled you into a hug, this time he held you and your head was tucked into the crook of his neck. Instead of letting you go, Harry helped you get comfortable in his arms.

“While we’re at it, I just wanted to say how much fun I’m having right now. Thank you guys for having me” Harry gestured to Mable and Ryland across from him then turned to you, “And thank you to you for allowing me to be in your workspace and sharing it with me. You’ve always supported me throughout everything and now I finally get to support you and your craft, so thank you for trusting me to be here.”

Now it was your turn to pout, though there was a twinkle in you eye, “Thank you, H.” You hummed as Harry pecked your temple.

“I’m rooting so hard for you guys, you have no idea.” Mable said from her seat, the camera cut to Ryland who agreed.

“Yeh, I guess we like each other a lot.” Harry joked. You smiled softly at him.

“I don’t wanna intrude but is there a possible wedding in the future?” Ryland asked. It was silent between you and Harry, the both of you staring at each other before answering.

“I think so, I have some pretty high hopes.” You answered. Harry made a sound of agreement, “I think when everything calms down we’ll figure it out, but without a doubt it’s definitely in the cards.”

Harry let out a small chuckle and added, “Let me release the fourth album and then I’ll put a ring on it.”

The camera cut to you blushing with wide eyes, clearly taken off guard by your boyfriend’s comment. Mable and Ryland were quick to react, sending you teasing looks and screaming “oooo”.

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted into a smirk, turning his head to look at you he asked, “How’s that sound?”

You scrunched your nose (adorably, Harry might add) and pretended to put some thought into it.

“Sounds like a plan, but on one condition.”

Harry’s brows raised as he waited for you to continue.

“You have to release Medicine.” You said, Harry caught on to your banter and feigned an annoyed sigh, “Babe, we’ve talked about this.”

“Fine, then can we get a puppy?”

“Of course we can, darling, we’ll have one by tomorrow morning.” Harry jested, sounding incredibly posh.

You turned to the camera apologetically and spoke directly to your boyfriend’s fans, “Sorry guys, I tried.”

Though in reality, you knew that Harry would release Medicine in a heartbeat if you asked him to.

#Harry Styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles headcannon #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles drabble #Harry Styles

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yelena-bellova · 2 years

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Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Hands

Plot: Y/n and Joel work to escape the ambush with their lives, sharing an unexpected tender moment after.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: tlou ep.4 spoilers, language, graphic description of injuries, canon-typical violence, death, blood, guns, knives, insinuated a**ault, (16+)

A/N: THERE WAS ONE BED. Sorry, I’ve been waiting five days to say that. Anyway, this one was super fun to write. As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be tagging anyone unless your age is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Enjoy, and good luck to all going into tonight’s episode 🙏🏻

——————

June 6th, 2002. Austin Texas.

Summer in Texas brought a brutal heat, but once the sun set, it was bearable to a point of enjoyment.

Y/n’s fingers drummed anxiously against her steering wheel as she drove to the fairgrounds. If she’d been nervous about her first date with Joel, this was worse. If she couldn’t fit in with the family, there was no point in them going any further. The night had to go well.

She pulled into the dirt parking lot, taking a deep breath before switching off her car. Sarah and her had already gotten along when she’d driven her home. And Tommy already felt like an old friend. Everything would be fine…probably.

Tommy, Joel and Sarah waited at the front of the fair, the latter two peeking through the sea of people for one specific person.

“Can’t tell which one of you’s more excited,” Tommy chuckled, looking between his niece and brother.

“I’m excited,” Sarah replied, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look, “Dad’s nervous.”

“I am not nervous,” Joel stated, his fiddling thumbs over his pockets contradicting his words.

Before Tommy could get in a jab, the three of them spotted Y/n’s head bobbing through crowd. Sarah and Tommy waved wildly, Joel tried to keep his restrained.

“The yellow rose of Texas,” Tommy cheered, beating Joel to give her a hug.

Y/n laughed as Tommy spun her around. “Nice to see you too,” she grinned.

Sarah jumped forward, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Hi, Y/n!”

“Hey,” Y/n greeted her, unsure whether or not she was supposed to hug her or if it was too much or-

Her excessive thoughts died in thin air as soon as her and Joel’s eyes met.

He sheepishly walked forward, hoping it didn’t seem like he wasn’t enthusiastic about her being there. He was just so fucking nervous.

“Dad,” Sarah piped up, “Doesn’t Y/n look pretty tonight?”

“Yeah,” Tommy added, taking Y/n’s hand and twirling her around, “Better make a move before she realizes she can do better.”

Joel nodded along, “Alright, alright,” he took Y/n’s hand, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, all her anxiety suddenly seemed worth it.

“Should we get this show on the road?” Tommy asked, slapping his hands together and pulling Sarah along with him.

Joel and Y/n’s fingers stayed interlocked as they walked in.

“She’s been bouncing off the walls all day,” he admitted, “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

Y/n forced a laugh, “You’re doing wonders for my anxiety…”

Joel laughed, sneaking a kiss to Y/n’s temple while his family’s backs were turned.

The night, however, ended up going better than either one of them expected. Sarah was glued to Y/n’s side all night, barely acknowledging her uncle or Joel. She insisted that Y/n sit with her on all the rides, even grabbing her hand on one of the coasters. Y/n made an effort in between attractions to find out Sarah’s interests, finding common ground in music mostly. Joel’s daughter was witty, smart and a downright joy to simply be around.

Joel watched the whole thing, his heart bursting with affection for them both. Under the glow of the carnival lights, he wasn’t sure what he had been so worried about. He had the two most incredible girls in his life and it was crazy to think they wouldn’t get along.

They’d walked nearly the entire fair before Sarah spotted the ferris wheel. “We haven’t done that one yet,” she said, “Y/n?”

“Well, if your dad’s recovered from the tilt-o-whirl,” Y/n shrugged, smiling smugly at Joel.

Joel pointed a finger at Y/n, “Don’t even mention that death contraption.”

The four of them made their way through the line, zigging and zagging. Somewhere along the way, Sarah drifted behind Joel and Y/n to walk alongside Tommy, forcing the two of them together. They filed up the steps and into the cart, expecting Tommy and Sarah to be right behind them.

“Oh,” Sarah put her hands to her stomach, “I’m not feeling great.”

Tommy grabbed his niece’s shoulders with great concern, “Oh, no. Maybe we should go sit you down.”

Joel, though already barred in his seat, tried to stand up. “Sarah, I-“

“You guys go ahead,” she waved her dad off, “I think I just need some water or something.”

“Well, no,” Y/n said, trying to push the bar up, “We can just-“

The wheel creaked to life and began to lift Y/n and Joel up into the air.

“Well, fuck,” Joel muttered, frantically looking around as if he could somehow stop it in motion, “I wonder if it’s somethin’ she ate.”

Y/n peered down, searching out Tommy and Sarah’s forms. She chuckled when she finally spotted them. “Something tells me she’ll live,” she tapped Joel on the shoulder and pointed downwards.

There, back in line for more greasy carnival food, was Sarah, nearly bouncing beside her uncle as they watched Y/n and Joel.

Joel threw his head back in relief and laughter, blindly seeking out Y/n’s hand.

“Your daughter might just be an evil genius,” Y/n smirked.

“She’s diabolical,” Joel replied, turning to face Y/n with a lovesick grin, “She loves you.”

Y/n folded her other hand over Joel’s, “She’s magic. Just pure sunshine.”

“No, I mean,” Joel sat up straighter, “She’s never taken to anyone like she has you. It’s just been us and Tommy her whole life and the way she’s accepted you is just…”

Neither one needed to say it, they could both feel it. Sarah had taken Y/n in like she’d always been there.

“I’m honored,” Y/n beamed.

Joel felt like he was locked in a tractor beam, Y/n’s eyes drawing him in further and further. The two of them startled when the ferris wheel creaked again and they stopped moving, having reached the top of their climb.

“So,” Y/n started, “Did I pass the Miller family test?”

Joel took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulders, dragging her frame closer to him till they were pressed against one another. Y/n interlocked her fingers with his, her stomach nearly in her throat from the closeness.

Joel knew that the next seconds were crucial. If he kissed Y/n, he was signing away his future. There would never be another woman his eyes followed across the room. The room would empty as soon as she walked in. There would never be another first date, sweaty palms and racing heartbeat accompanying. The nerves would morph into different firsts, ones of far more significance. If he gave his heart fully to this woman, it would never again be his.

Joel rubbed a thumb against Y/n’s shoulder and smiled, “Flyin’ colors, Rosebud.”

Y/n was practically glowing, relief radiating out of her. She knew that Sarah was the final puzzle piece to her and Joel, and it had all come together gloriously. There were no more obstacles, there was only them.

Joel’s eyes flickered to Y/n’s lips, the signal that meant something beautiful was about to happen. She held firm, not wanting to move and upset the electricity of the moment. Joel’s head slowly drifted forward, his nose gently sliding against Y/n’s. She couldn’t hide her shaky exhale as their skin finally touched.

Joel allowed a few seconds, for the possibility of her backing out, before letting himself lean in fully and kiss her.

The pure relief that ran through their bodies paralyzed them, their lips pausing as if the commit the feeling to memory. The shock wore off and Y/n pushed her lips deeper against his, seeking out the second kiss. Joel met her, bringing his free hand up to hold her cheek in place. His fingers spread across the side of her face, two brushing against her jawline. It was nearly a lazy kiss, like they knew this was just the first of a million and they could take their time with it.

There, above a sea of noise that faded in their ears, Y/n and Joel felt their uncertainties turn to stone. They were each other’s future.

—————————

2023. Kansas City, Missouri.

The crash could have been worse.

“Ellie?” Y/n panted, reaching blindly behind her.

“I’m okay,” Ellie grabbed hold of Y/n’s arm.

“You’re not hurt, nothin?” Joel asked both of them, his eyes frantically scanning them for injuries.

Ellie shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Y/n confirmed, checking Joel’s face and hands for blood.

Inevitable gunshots began to hit the truck, sending them ducking for cover.

“Belts off,” Joel shouted, “Fast!”

They unbuckled and Ellie crawled out her side of the truck, Y/n and Joel following. Y/n had the good sense to grab her backpack as she slid out. They crouched down behind the truck, Joel reaching back in to grab Y/n and his shotguns.

One of their assailants called out to them, “Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!”

A lie.

Y/n and Joel loaded their guns in preparation. They could fight, but Ellie couldn’t.

Joel spotted a hiding spot through the wall. “Hey,” he caught Ellie’s attention, “You see that hole? Can you squeeze through?”

A couple warning shots caused them all to flinch, Y/n throwing an arm over Ellie’s body instinctively.

“When I say go, you crawl through that wall,” Joel instructed, “And you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until we say, okay?”

A bullet flew through one of the truck’s windows, the shards of glass raining around them. Y/n was directly under its stream, her adrenaline blocked the feeling of the small cuts.

“And they’re not gonna hit you,” Joel kept going, Ellie was already turning in concern towards Y/n, “Look at me!”

“Ellie,” Y/n urged, “Listen to him.”

Ellie turned to Joel, he drove the promise home. “They’re not gonna hit you.”

Another bullet came too close for comfort.

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet,” Joel instructed, trying to give her as much information as possible in an attempt to soothe her fears.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded, Y/n squeezed her hand for reassurance.

“Okay,” Joel said, looking over to Y/n. The two of them had to be perfectly in sync for the plan to work. Y/n gave a confidant nod and he returned it.

“GO!”

On cue, Ellie began to belly crawl across the floor while Y/n and Joel got to their feet. When one of them took a shot, the other would stay down. They timed their reloads so that someone was always up and firing.

While crouched behind the truck, Y/n glanced over at the hole in the wall, the only thing left visible was Ellie’s leg being pulled through.

“She’s in,” Y/n told Joel, popping up as he went down and firing a shot at one of their attackers.

Joel was making up their escape route on the fly, trying to find a place safe enough to take cover behind. “Come on,” he muttered, leading Y//n behind a large piece of equipment.

Y/n crouched beside Joel, her mind racing with grim possibilites as the crunching of glass came closer. Joel was the better shot, without question, but her fear for Ellie’s life made her much quicker to the trigger. Joel motioned for her to stay down, he would take the shot.

Waiting for their attacker to be in perfect position, Joel rose to his feet and fired a deadly bullet.

Joel exhaled, he’d been holding his breath as they’d lay in waiting. He offered Y/n a hand, which she took, and pulled her to her feet. He went to reload the shotgun, but it had become jammed.

A body burst through the door, barely leaving Joel and Y/n time to react. Joel smacked the butt of his gun into the assailant’s, the almost-fatal shot hitting the ceiling instead. Y/n backed up and took aim, but the man swung around and knocked the shotgun out of her hands. Joel was trying to draw him away from Y/n, but as she went to attack him, she was thrown into Joel and they were backed up against their shelter. They struggled against the man as he tried to shove his gun against their throats.

Even though there were two of them, he quickly overpowered them and pulled them to the floor. He pinned Y/n and Joel down, the rifle big enough to dig into both their throats.

“Now you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers,” he threatened, “What you fuckin’ did, you killed yourself, motherfucker!”

Y/n and Joel began to feel the oxygen drain from their lungs, both of them kicking wildly in a sad attempt to free themselves. The sounds of Y/n’s struggles cut right to Joel’s heart, making him fight harder.

Y/n tried with her remaining strength to push the gun away from them, but without her and Joel at their best, it was fruitless. She gagged, her eyesight was beginning to blur. Their journey couldn’t end here, not like this…

Desperately trying to comfort her in what was assuredly their last moment, Joel’s hand, that was barely brushing Y/n’s, fought to slide a finger over hers. If they were going out, they were going out together.

And then suddenly, the weight lifted from them. Y/n fell onto her side, Joel landing up against her with an arm resting against her convulsing abdomen. They sputtered for air, coughing and hacking as it refilled their chests. Y/n held onto Joel’s arm as she wheezed, gripping him for traction as she tried to draw a true breath.

Joel forced himself up onto his arm, turning around and seeing their salvation came in the form of Ellie and a pistol. He should have known that she wasn’t going to listen…

“No, no, no, no, no,” Joel and Y/n’s attacker cried as Ellie took a step towards him, “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore.”

Finally gaining enough oxygen to see straight, Y/n leaned up, coming face to face with Ellie. Her heart broke at the sight of her, so young, having been forced to make an irreversible decision.

“I’m gonna go home,” the guilty promised, “I’ll tell everyone you’re good,” he began to cry, “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work.”

Joel’s protective arm remained around Y/n the whole time.

“My mom isn’t far,” the man continued to bargain for his life, “If you could get me to her.”

Y/n tapped Joel’s hand, shrugging his arm off as they got to their knees. Joel looked down at their hands, blood smeared on both their palms. The slow stream was coming from the back of Y/n’s hand, the spray of the truck’s glass window had cut her up good.

“We could trade with you guys,” the man tried to reason with a teary-eyed Ellie, “We could be friends. I didn’t know. I’m Bryan, I’m Bryan. What’s your name?”

Joel and Y/n helped each other up, steadying one another as they got to their feet. The sound of their assailant speaking, trying to be friendly to Ellie set Y/n off. She took a threatening step toward him, Joel had to hold her back by her hips.

They turned to Ellie, who looked like she was somewhere between relieved and tortured. Joel held out a hand, silently demanding the gun still shaking in her palm. She handed it over without hesitation.

Bryan had begun to weep behind them, as if that made any difference to the people whose lives he’d been ready to steal. Joel turned slowly, stuffing the gun in his jacket pocket and pulling out his own pistol.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bryan sniffled, picking up the knife he would have most likely killed Y/n and Joel with and dropping it at their feet, “You can have it. It’s a good knife.”

Joel bent over to pick it up, turning to Ellie after. “Get behind the wall,” he growled.

“No, no, no, no,” Bryan cried, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, please, we could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m-“

Ellie looked between him and Y/n, who nodded towards the hole as a back up to Joel’s order. Moving mechanically, Ellie hurried back through the hole to the others side of the building.

Bryan continued to beg for mercy, something Joel had been short on for twenty years. Y/n, usually the more reasonable of the two, stood over the sniffling young man, seething. He’d been ready to kill them like they were nothing. He’d have killed Ellie, or worse, taken her and allowed his friends to commit unspeakable acts to her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

Joel didn’t bother asking Y/n for her opinion as he stalked forward. He ignored Bryan’s pleas, the shrieking cries for his mother. As he brought the knife down on him, Y/n turned away, desiring justice but unable to watch its delivery.

When it was over, Joel looked over to Y/n, who was turned towards the wall. He didn’t have time to feel any guilt over causing further damage to their past selves. He made his way over to her and took her hand into his, examining the bloody cuts.

“Window,” she choked out, pulling away from his touch, “I’ll clean it later.”

Joel nodded, there were no other options. “Ellie,” he called out, “We gotta get in there. We can’t fit through.”

“There’s some stuff against the door,” she replied.

“Well, can you move it?” Joel asked.

Y/n and Joel hurried around the back of the laundromat and to the side entrance to the building Ellie was hidden in. They leaned their collective weight against the door, the screech of a desk sliding on the other side. They burst through together, slamming the door shut after.

“Let’s go,” Joel hurried to help Ellie, “Fast.”

The three of them slid the desk back against the door, barricading themselves for the time being. It left them with nothing other than the reality of what happened sinking in on them.

“I’m okay,” Ellie was quick to say, reaching for her pack, “I’m good. I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light still.”

“What now?” Ellie asked.

“We go up,” Joel answered, already on the move.

“To get a better look?”

“Hopefully we spot a clear route out,” Joel opened the door that would lead them outside, “Stay close.”

Ellie nodded, “Got it.”

The three of them moved through the back room of the building, daylight greeting them as they found their way outside. Joel led them along the alley, finding cover behind an old car. They could hear the attacker’s calls for Bryan and the subsequent ones of terror when they found his body.

Joel cut across the street, shining his light through the opposite building’s door. Deeming it safe, he gestured for Y/n and Ellie to meet him. They ran through it, closing the door quietly behind them.

“Stairs?” Y/n asked, pulling out her pistol while Joel manned the flashlight.

Joel led them through the dark, the three of them flying up the steps in order to try and seek some vantage point. When they couldn’t find one, they headed back to the first level.

They snaked through holes, doors and carefully across streets, always avoiding whatever noise was just a few blocks over.

Eventually, they landed in a bar with newspapers plastered against the windows. It was the quietest street they’d found yet and safe for the time being. Joel monitored the city through the small chunk of exposed glass as sounds grew closer, watching as trucks and tanks rolled down the street.

Y/n was seated at the table, the first aid kid open and her hand stretched out. There were at least a dozen small shards of glass stuck in her skin, blood slowly trickling around them. It was going to be a bitch getting them out.

“They’re not FEDRA,” Ellie recounted the discussion they’d just had, “They’re not Fireflies. Who are they?”

“People,” Joel answered as he continued to watch.

“Are we okay in here?”

“Yeah, for now, but we gotta keep-“ Y/n’s gasp interrupted her sentence as she poured rubbing alcohol across the back of her hand. “We gotta keep moving,” she strained.

Joel’s attention was drawn away by Y/n’s cry of pain, but he made sure to look back through the window one more time. “Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be comin’ through these places soon enough.”

“So we zig when they zag,” Y/n stated, sanitizing her pair of tweezers.

Joel got up and Ellie took his spot at the window, he moved towards the table.

“There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away,” Ellie reported.

“Yeah, saw it,” Joel replied.

“So that’s the one?” Ellie asked.

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck,” Joel said, “We move. Fast as we can.”

Joel came to sit across from Y/n, watching as she carefully began to pull pieces of glass from her skin. She was trying her best to hold back tears, her lip trembling as she bit down on it. His fingers practically twitched to help her, telling himself to hold back as much as he could.

Y/n’s hand began to shake as she reached for another shard, whimpering when she accidentally nudged it deeper into the cut.

“Here,” Joel offered, though it was more an order. He held out a hand for the tweezers.

“I’ve got it,” Y/n mumbled wetly, speaking past the lump in her throat.

“I know you do,” Joel replied softly, the softest tone he’d taken with her in twenty years. He looped his fingers through the vice-like grip she had on her tool, gently pulling it down to the table. “Here.”

Y/n was in too much pain to fight, and she knew Joel would get it done quick. She allowed him to take her injured hand into his, the sensation of his touch against her palm sending a jolt through them both.

Joel worked with precision, carefully pulling each shard out of each cut. Y/n would let out a small whine every once in a while, but he didn’t stop to look at her. The faster he moved, the faster her pain would end.

Y/n tried to focus on anything, anything other than the pain. That thing ended up being Joel’s hands. The rough callouses against her wrist, the occasional brush of his knuckle as he worked, the length of his fingers in comparison to hers. In the heat of misery, she couldn’t see what a dangerous place her mind was in. All she could see was Joel.

Once he was done, Joel collected the bloody shards in a piece of gauze and stuck them in the first aid kit. They couldn’t leave any trail. Y/n reached into the box and pulled out a bandage roll. Joel placed a large gauze pad over the back of her hand and unrolled the spool. He pulled Y/n’s hand closer to him across the table, lifting it up as he wrapped it in the material. He handled her with all the delicacy he could muster.

Y/n watched him wrap her hand, thinking of the last time he’d been this soft with her. For as rough around the edges as Joel had always been, there was a tenderness that had only ever been reserved for her and Sarah. To feel it again was to travel twenty years into the past, to feel their fingers intertwine as they laid in bed or walked down the street…

She almost forgot about her anger, just for a moment.

Joel secured the bandage and gently set her hand back on the table. They peered up at one another, the cautious look in their eyes saying more than their lips ever could.

“Thank you,” Y/n muttered.

Joel simply nodded, retracting his hands back into his sides. Reintroducing the feel of Y/n’s skin was dangerous, muscle memory was sure to seek out and seek more and more of it. He balled up his fists and set them in his lap.

Settled, Y/n glanced over at Ellie, who was seated against the wall with her knees to her chest. With a minute of calm on their side, they were all trying to deal with what had happened after the crash.

“Are you guys okay?” Ellie asked.

Y/n held up her bandaged hand, one side of her mouth twitching upwards.

“I’m all right,” Joel answered, looking anywhere but at Ellie as he struggled, “Are you…all right?”

“Yeah,” Ellie mumbled quickly.

Joel fiddled with his hand, there was a duality to him he didn’t know how to properly function out of. Twenty years of burying your feelings could leave you severely impaired by the time you needed to access them again.

“Thing is, I didn’t hear that guy comin’,” he sighed.

“Neither of us did,” Y/n looked up, her and Joel’s eyes meeting again in mutual guilt.

Joel turned back to Ellie, “You shouldn’t have had to…you know.”

“Well, you’re glad I did, right?” Ellie asked, needing reassurance that she’d done the right thing.

Good and bad were so muddled, post-pandemic. Y/n was glad she’d kept her life, but it came at the expense of another piece of Ellie’s innocence. What was she supposed to say?

“Thing is, you’re just a kid,” Joel said for the both of them, “You shouldn’t know what it means to…” he diverted his eyes, desperately searching for the magic words to make her feel any better, “It’s not like you killed him. But shootin’ or…” he sighed, “I know what it’s like, first time that you, uh, hurt someone like that.”

Y/n stayed quiet, unable to watch Joel’s painful attempt. She knew the moment he was referring to, and it hadn’t been the dick in the bar all those years ago.

“If you, uh,” Joel tried, stuttering on consonants after, “I’m not good at this.”

“Yeah,” Ellie numbly agreed, “You really aren’t.”

“I mean it was my fault,” Joel rushed out, glancing over to Y/n, “Our fault. You shouldn’t have had to,” he made sure to look in Ellie’s eyes, “And I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Y/n added, her throat nearly clogging up.

Ellie soaked in their words, hurriedly wiping away at the tears welling in her eyes. It only made Joel and Y/n feel worse about their mistake.

“It wasn’t my first time,” Ellie spoke up, not looking in either of their directions.

While they were both emotionally guarded, Y/n was the more available between her and Joel. Her heart still beat for those in need. She got up from the table and came to Ellie, sliding down the wall until she was sitting next to her. She didn’t reach out, she just wanted Ellie to know that she wasn’t alone.

Joel’s way of showing he cared bled through in the way he protected. If he could ensure his people were safe, he could breathe easier.

He got down on his knees in front of Ellie, unloading her pistol from his pocket and handing it back to her.

“Show me your grip,” he said, “Finger off the trigger.”

Ellie held up the gun, barely concealing her joy at finally getting to learn.

“Now who taught you that?” Joel asked.

“FEDRA school,” she answered.

“Figures,” he muttered, Y/n scoffed alongside him. He maneuvered Ellie’s fingers, “Your thumb over your thumb. Left hand squeezes down on the right.”

Y/n reached out with her good hand, tucking one of Ellie’s stray fingers in. “Pinkies in,” she smirked, “There’s no princesses here.”

“There you go,” Joel sat back, “Look it.”

He tugged on the gun, trying to pull the gun from Ellie’s grip, but it held. She giggled as he yanked her forward.

“Okay?” Joel said sternly.

Ellie nodded, a smile still painted across her face.

Joel loaded the cartridge back into the weapon and safely handed it back to Ellie, who went to stuff it in her pocket.

“Uh-uh,” Joel shook his head, “You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Y/n turned her head away and snickered, still not wanting to give Joel the satisfaction of getting a laugh out of her. Joel got to his feet and extended a hand out to her. Y/n begrudgingly took it and let him pull her up.

Noting that outside had gone quiet, Joel nodded towards the door. Him and Y/n headed over and began ripping off the rotten wood boards nailed over the entrance. They had one clean shot at the high rise, they couldn’t make any missteps.

They paused when Ellie approached, both of them wanting her to trust that they’d get her to safety.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Y/n said, trying to make herself believe it too.

“I know,” Ellie muttered, the levity of the past moment having disappeared.

Joel and Y/n’s gazes met, neither one sure of what there was to say. They were developing their language through their silence, the nail biting seconds between safety and risking their lives. It was a level they had never connected on, because there had never been a need.

“Let’s go,” Y/n said softly.

Inhaling, Joel opened the door and they filed out into the empty street, bolting for the building they hoped would shelter them…

—————————

The journey to the high rise didn’t go as easy as they’d hoped, having to dip and duck into abandoned shops and restaurants. With the dark having blanketed them on the way, their arrival felt like an even bigger win when they got there.

There was the small task of getting in to the building.

Joel, Ellie and Y/n stared up at the vent that would grant them access to unlock the door.

“Alright, short stack,” Y/n announced to Ellie, “You’re up.”

Ellie, eager to be a part in any way she could, stepped forward. Joel nabbed a loose piece of wood resting against the wall and handed it to her.

“We’ll brace you,” Joel said, “Be careful going through, could be a long drop.”

“Got it,” Ellie nodded.

Joel bent down, locking his hands together. “You’re just gonna put your foot there,” he instructed.

“Okay,” Ellie breathed. Y/n was standing by, waiting to be needed.

“One, two,” Joel counted before lifting Ellie up.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” the girl said, panicked. Y/n jumped in and steadied her hips.

“Straighten up,” Joel directed, “I got you.”

Ellie stiffened her body, getting traction in the safety of Y/n and Joel’s arms, and rammed the wood into the vent. It clattered to the building’s floor. Joel and Y/n helped thread her through the hole, dusting off their hands after.

“Okay, I’m in,” Ellie called.

“Take a look around first,” Joel told her, the sound of her sneakers hitting the floor defiantly, “Ellie!”

“Come on,” Y/n grumbled, following the clattering noises Ellie made straight to the door. It swung open.

“Where would you be without me, huh?” Ellie asked proudly.

“By now, Wyoming,” Joel replied as he and Y/n walked through.

“Oh, yeah,” Ellie admitted, “Walked into that one.”

They carefully made their way through the mess-ridden building, it looked like it had once been a loading dock. A stray car, multiple signs on the walls with instructions and packing materials scattered across the floor.

“All right, we’ll make our way up,” Joel laid out the plan, “And come morning, I’ll take a look at the city and find our way out.”

Y/n walked ahead and pushed open the door that led to the stairs, Joel shining his light behind her.

“We’re going up 42 flights?” Ellie asked.

“45,” Joel answered, flicking the light upward to reveal the dauntingly tall structure, “But no, not all the way.”

“How far then?” Y/n asked.

Joel heavily sighed, “As far as I can make it.”

Ellie laughed while Y/n rolled her eyes, their fate was to be determined by Joel’s knees.

The cockiness should have been saved for later, or ignored entirely.

After the tenth flight, Y/n was huffing and puffing along with Joel. Years of fighting and manual labor hadn’t been kind to either of them, but the day’s exhausting circumstances weren’t helping.

“Not so easy, is it?” Joel quipped, following Y/n’s panting, hunched over form.

“Fuck…” Y/n drew a deep breath as she turned another corner, “You…Miller.”

“Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt?” Ellie asked, changing the subject, “How did you guys know it was an ambush?”

Joel and Y/n paused on their respective steps, feeling weight drop on them for different reasons.

“I can’t speak for him,” Y/n answered, drawing a breath, “But when I made my way up to Boston, there were all sorts of people trying all sorts of things. Stories get through the QZ too. People saying that they lost loved ones to raiders…” Y/n shook her head, “It’s a fucking disgusting business.”

Joel almost grimaced, resting against the railing. How the hell was he supposed to answer now?

“I’ve been on both sides,” he admitted, “It was a long time ago, we did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” Ellie asked.

“And the people we were with,” Joel continued, not knowing which bit of what he was about to say would affect Y/n more, “My brother, too.”

Y/n was braced against the railing, gripping the bar so tight she knew her knuckles were white. Joel was different now, a completely transformed man from the one she’d known. She had watched him kill, torture and separate entirely from his heart. But much like when he beat up the FEDRA guard back in the QZ, there was a part of her that didn’t want to believe the man she’d loved was fully gone.

Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe no one could stay pure in a world of bloodshed.

“Did you kill innocent people?”

Ellie’s question gave Y/n the burst of energy she needed to get up the next flight of stairs and she fled the conversation

The thing about knowing someone better than you know yourself is that the connection is forever. No matter how many changes either person goes through, no matter how much life beats them down and time rusts them…there are inherent pieces of their personality that remain the same. In each footstep that carried Y/n up the stairs, Joel felt the shame of his past choices ache a little more inside his soul. Somewhere, six layers underneath her bitterness, lay the heart of a woman who wouldn’t naturally hurt a fly. And here he was, having undergone a hideous transformation that could have given fairytales a run for their money.

If Y/n was a gentle sweep of rain, Joel was a hurricane, bringing death and destruction wherever he went.

“C’mon,” he said to Ellie, the only answer he could manage.

They climbed a little longer before Joel called out to Y/n, one flight above them. “Stop.”

Y/n paused, reluctantly descending to meet them where they were. Joel opened the door to their designated floor, out of breath and willpower.

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed, short on oxygen, but better than Y/n or Joel.

Joel backed up against the wall, sliding down to the floor in exhaustion. “Yeah.”

“Thirty three floors,” Ellie continued cheerily, “That’s good.”

Y/n was bent over, bracing herself against her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

“It’s gonna have to be,” Joel panted.

Ellie extended a hand to him, “Come on.”

“Gimme a minute,” he complained, he wasn’t even sure he could move.

Ellie wasn’t having any of it, she knew what would motivate Joel. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

Y/n snorted, earning a glare from Joel. She didn’t shy away from staring back at him.

Joel reached up and took Ellie’s outstretched palm, “Lazy ass,” he grumbled, walking past both girls, “Fifty six years old, you little shit.”

Ellie laughed, Y/n patting her on the back as she walked past.

Joel grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and rammed it into the glass door of one of the apartments. He let Y/n and Ellie in first before entering himself.

“Oh, sweet,” Ellie exclaimed, dropping her backpack in the middle of the room, “There’s a couch.”

“Hallelujah,” Y/n replied, setting her bag down as well, while Ellie began rounding up the cushions.

Joel pulled out a drawer form one of the cabinets, carefully collecting the glass shards he’d created and shaking them across the floor. Y/n acknowledged it was a good idea, a makeshift alarm system, while she helped Ellie build their beds.

“Joel,” Ellie called, confused as to what she was watching. He didn’t reply. “Joel…”

Y/n spoke up, “Joel.”

He turned quickly, “What?”

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleepin’,” he explained.

“Oh,” Ellie elongated, “I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?”

“Of course I’ll hear it,” Joel replied, impatiently, “That’s the damn point.”

“Okay,” Ellie said, laying down on her couch cushion bed.

The dilemma Y/n faced was simple: two beds, three people. The easiest thing was to share with Ellie, which she was on her way to do when Ellie starfished, blocking any extra room she had.

“Come on,” Y/n urged, nudging the bottom cushion with her boot, “I’m exhausted.”

“There’s a perfectly good bed over there,” she nodded towards Joel’s section of the floor.

The ex-lover’s eyes met, panic in their gazes.

“Absolutely not,” Y/n stated, turning back to Ellie.

“Why?” Ellie replied, faux innocence in her tone and a smirk on her face, “Shouldn’t be a problem if you two are getting along.”

Every part of Y/n’s body wanted to jump through the apartment’s window and take her chances leaping to her death. Anything was preferable to sharing a bed with Joel again.

Joel felt the same way, he didn’t need to feel any more confused around Y/n than he already was. Laying beside her again would just be another punishment from some higher power.

“I’ll take the floor,” Joel reluctantly offered.

“What, so we have to listen to you complain about your back all day?” Y/n replied, “No, I’ll take the floor.”

“You’re gonna be fuckin’ miserable if you do,” Joel brought up, “And you’ll slow us down.”

Y/n paused, taking a deep breath, trying to get over herself enough to realize Joel was right. They both needed rest.

“Fine,” she conceded, “Back to back.”

Joel nodded, the two of them kneeling down beside the cushions and balling up their jackets.

It was an awkawrd dance, trying to maneuver themselves onto the narrow bed without touching too much. Y/n had to wiggle around, clinging to the edge of the cushion so she wouldn’t fall off. Inevitably, the entirety of their bodies ended up pressed together like magazine pages. Twenty years ago, it was the moment where one of them would flip over and wrap their arms around the other as they drifted off to sleep. Now, they lay stiff as boards, trying not to set off any memories or sensations.

“Well, goodnight,” Ellie said, comfortably curled up in a ball.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Joel grunted.

“Goodnight,” Y/n was facing Ellie and her smirk, “You little shit.”

Joel shut his eyes, trying to force himself to fall asleep quickly. But there was an unfinished part of his day that he couldn’t let go of.

“Ellie,” he called.

“Yeah?”

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people,” he recalled, “What did you mean it wasn’t your first time?”

Ellie stiffened, rolling over onto her back, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Y/n watched the girl’s countenance change, for as much as they’d gotten to know each other the last few weeks, they didn’t actually know anything. There was blood on both their hands and Ellie wanted the dark of night to hide hers. Y/n couldn’t blame her.

“All right,” Joel conceded, only for a second, before rolling over on his other side. Y/n could feel him shift and knew he was trying to face Ellie. She flipped onto her back so he could see across the room.

“You don’t have to,” Joel continued, trying to keep his body as compact as possible, “Just sayin’…it isn’t fair, your age…havin’ to deal with all this.”

Y/n tried to steady her inhale, Joel’s warm breath fanned over her face, setting her nerve endings alight. The window idea was looking better and better…

Ellie turned her head to face the adults, “So it gets easier when you get older?”

“It never gets easier,” Y/n spoke up, attempting to release some of the pressure inside her from her own sins, “It just…you shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff yet.”

Joel’s eyes traveled over Y/n’s face, seeing all the pieces of her he couldn’t recognize. There were two decades of her life he had been absent for. Just as he carried stories and scars earned over time, she did too. It still hurt to see her hurt.

“The reason I asked whether you’d hear the glass or not,” Ellie flipped over to face Joel and Y/n, “Is ‘cause I’ve noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side. Is it cause you were shot there?”

Y/n twisted her head to get a look at Joel’s ear. She’s gathered enough information to make an educated guess, but years of fighting had taught her that it took more than one bullet to take out someone’s hearing.

Joel glanced down at Y/n, their breaths mingling in the small space left between them. It would have been so easy to lean down, or even just touch her cheek. Such intimacies belonged in their past life, but Joel could feel his resolve slipping with each second he spent in bed with her.

Y/n felt the draw too. She felt weak for admitting that through her anger, she was still as drawn to Joel as she had been the night they’d met. He may have changed in every way conceivable, but with the small taste she was getting of his body, she knew his firm frame was the same as she remembered. Something about that tortured Y/n more than if he’d completely transformed.

They were wading in dangerous waters.

“Probably more from shootin’,” Joel answered, swallowing hard and turning back over on his side, “So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.”

The action of moving brought Y/n out of whatever trance she’d been in. She felt fucking weak, feeling any sort of attraction to the man who’d broken her heart. Rolling back onto her side, she shut her eyes and tried to calm her body down.

“Joel,” Ellie said softly, “Y/n.”

They answered at the same time, “Hm?”

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

Y/n carefully moved the sleeve of her jacket to block her twitching mouth.

Joel barely turned over, “What?”

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, “It runs in your jeans.”

He twisted to get a look at Ellie, who was smirking at them both, and fell back onto his side.

Y/n was desperately trying to contain her giggling, practically holding her breath.

Facing away from them, Joel smirked and muttered something to himself. A whisper of a chortle escaped him. “That is so damn stupid,” he admonished.

“You laughed, motherfucker,” Ellie giggled.

“I didn’t laugh,” Joel shot back.

“Yes, you did,” Ellie replied.

“I’m losin’ it.”

“You’re losin’ it big time,” Ellie grinned.

Y/n snorted, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I knew it would work again,” Ellie exclaimed, lording the two-time award winning joke over Y/n’s head. It was the only one in the book that got her to crack.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” Y/n laughed, digging her entire face into her jacket.

All it took was hearing the sweet melody again, and Joel was pushed over the edge. He had been on pins and needles since meeting her again, naturally waiting to hear Y/n laugh again. In their life, circumstances didn’t occur often that gave you the opportunity to find humor. He’d accepted he may never hear it again. And now, with her back shaking against his, he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

As soon as Joel’s shakes being to reverberate off her body, Y/n felt a wave of grief and relief come over her. To hear his giggles, a sound only she’d ever been privy to, felt like coming home after a long day. She wanted to fight it, to rage against all pleasant memories of him, but she wanted a moment of peace more. She wanted to laugh.

Ellie was the loudest of them all, reigning victorious over Joel and Y/n’s stubbornness. It was so needed after the day they’d had.

“Go to sleep,” Joel said, his chuckle contradicting his order.

“You go to sleep,” Ellie laughed, rolling on her bed.

“Both of you go to sleep,” Y/n snorted, her voice lighting up the darkest parts of Joel.

There were two more rounds of giggling, one started by Ellie and one by Y/n. Joel couldn’t stop from joining both. It was the first moment of joy, true joy, that he’d felt in twenty years.

——————

At some point in their sleep, Y/n and Joel inevitably turned over. Y/n had been keeping her hands close to her chest, cradling the injured one. And somewhere in the timeline of the evening, Joel had unconsciously reached over and placed one of his hands over them both. How he blindly found it, how he knew she was trying to protect it, those answers belonged to the blanket of night. But Joel’s fingers wrapped around her bloody fist, protecting her even in his sleep.

He had also rolled over on his good ear.

“Y/n…Y/n.”

Y/n jumped at the call of her name, looking down at her and Joel’s intertwined hands and pulling back. She twisted onto her back, jumping back at the sight of the child standing over her, pointing a gun at them. Her peripheral vision caught Ellie with her hands up in surrender and a man with his own weapon aimed at her.

“Joel,” Y/n raised her hands, kicking her ex in the shin, “Joel!”

He startled awake.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @itwasallinmyhead1 @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda @avengersfan25 @pedr0swh0r3 (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us spoilers #twenty years later

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newtonsheffield · 7 months

Note

The first chapter of Head on the Pillow was the perfect way to start that story off! And now I just want more. Is there any way we could get a snippet of something like when Ant gets out of the hospital and Kate is suddenly pushing photogs away from her new companion? Cos I feel like she’d bust someone’s camera lens the second they get to her close to her man.

I think Kate definitely feels protective of Anthony at first. He nearly just died for one. And sure, her therapist is probably thrilled because it’s given them a fresh new stress dream to wade through but it also means that she nearly lost the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. And that doesn’t feel great.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Anthony huffed as they waited out the front of the hospital for the car to be pulled round, “It was specifically requested. I was given this outfit.”

Kate rolled her eyes, “Well right now I don’t care what the palace wants.”

It had been such an understated announcement at first. The palace describing Anthony as her Protection Agent and Companion in their official statement about his recovery and it had spiraled from there. Just as they’d known it would. The palace’s more official statement about their relationship printed and reprinted with every photo of her that had ever been taken, Anthony in the front, trying to shield her. And now there were hundreds of people waiting for them outside. Waiting to catch their first glimpse of the first official royal couple since her parents had walked out with her between them, holding both their hands.

“You do care. We have to leave through the front door. It’s what Royals do when they leave hospital according to your team.” Anthony sighed, trying to smile and Kate squeezed his hand while she ran her fingers through his hair and under the dark shadows under his eyes.

“I care about you. If this is too much we’ll sneak out the back. I don’t care. My parents won’t either. I’ll tell them it was gusty and I wasn’t wearing underwear.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed as though she’d caught his attention. “Are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Car out front, your highness.” Ronald said from his respectful distance away. “Exiting?”

Anthony nodded,taking a deep breath and gripping her hand tightly, his other arm in a sling. “Exiting.”

Th crows roared as Ronald pushed the doors open and Kate squared her shoulders waving with her free hand as the cameras flashed.

“Kate! Anthony!”

“Anthony! How’d you pull it off?”

“Kate! Any cold feet?!”

“Is it true you’re engaged?!”

“Is it true you married secretly in france last year?!”

Kept kept them moving forward towards the car and Anthony fingers gripped hers in panic as the photographers tried to bustle forward against the security.

She could see the panic in his eyes, not used to being on this side of the attention, people no longer letting their gaze pass through him and she cleared her throat.

“Boys, can you do me a favour?”

“What’s in it for us?!” A photographer called out and Kate laughed playing along.

“I’ll answer all of your questions in a press conference tomorrow. Every sordid detail. I’ll even do an interview for the television.” She could feel the anticipation in them, rising by the second, “But you need to leave Anthony alone while he recovers. I’ve put him through enough and I don’t need you boys scaring him off.”

They stopped pushing, staying in place, the flashes lessening.

“When’s this conference?”

“The palace will be in touch.”

The car door opened and Kate nudged Anthony inside before she followed him, his shoulders relaxing as he squeezed her hand again.

“That was very neatly done.”

Kate shrugged. “Well as attractive as I found you bodying Ken out of the way for me, I can’t do the same thing for you. I have to give a little to get a little.”

“You hate TV interviews.”

Kate shrugged, “I’ll pick someone good. Someone fun.”

“Thank you.” His voice was tiny, as the people flew by outside the window. “I’ll get better at this. I’ll get better and then I can support-”

“You’re perfect.” She leaned over to kiss his temple. “Just like this. I don’t want you to get better at that. That’s the last thing I want.”

“The palace might disagree.”

“I don’t care what the palace wants.”

#head on the pillow au #bodyguard au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years

Note

Haruhi and her frogin freind are out shopping together

How would three character of the host club be when they stalking them!

You and Haruhi have finally gotten together after so long. Traveling with your father’s business you’ve met quite a few people in your travels: karate masters, a flamboyant blonde, a really persuasive guy with glasses, and so many more. But nothing is like the market in your hometown or rather one of your hometowns.

Unbeknownst to you and Haruhi, the Ouran Host Club can’t help but follow after the mysterious person they met just last Summer.

Tamaki Suoh

“What a surprise the damsel we’ve been talking about happens to be here! Charge onward!”

He’s too excited and far too loud about his ambitions to follow you

Their ‘king’ isn’t exactly the best at covert operations despite his inclination for them

And if you or Haruhi don’t already know he’s there one of you will find him out

If it's you, you’ll call him asking ‘what brings you here?’

And he happily will join you two

Buying whatever he sees your eyes linger on

even if it's only a moment

When the day finally ends and you wave goodbye to make sure Haruhi gets home he waits for you

Now Tamaki Suoh could very well stay away from you watching protectively as you get home

But he’s too much of a gentleman to let you go alone

Or that he absolutely feeds off of your attention

Even if you originally refuse he won’t let you he’ll still escort you

Even attempting to invite himself inside but when he notices your frantic breathing and darting eyes he excuses himself

Making a show of driving away before instructing that they return in a couple hours

“My poor angel! All alone in such poverty! I just have to make sure they sleep well!”

Kyoya Ootori

“I’d also appreciate an in-depth look at their…personal life.”

He has to control his excitement with a push of his glasses

Typically he’d leave such a job to his…hired help

He gets plenty of updates from them but nothing beats getting the facts of his future spouse from ground zero

If he wasn’t so pretty and such a smooth talker it might have been easier not to be swarmed

But eventually, he gets a disguise good enough that he can continue to silently follow after

He’s sloppy because he hasn’t done this before or rather its been a while since he has

But he manages to maintain his cover

Making sure to make note of your conversation and preferences as you stop for food or buy different items

When the day ends he tails you from a distance by driver as he notes the safety of your route and neighborhood

Being sure to complain threaten the city council about the lack of lighting in specific alleyways

Of course, he will collect the Ootori photographers’ work for the day and decide which one he wants for his calendar, his wallet, his corkboard, his office wall, his bedside, his ceiling

“I’ve seen enough of their common lifestyle, it's time I elevated that. After all, we can’t have my love of all people being forced to live so below their means.”

Hikaru Hitachiin

“Well, aren’t you two cuties looking happy today!”

He’s already an avid stalker of yours

Now Haruhi is so used to this behavior she can wave it off calming any suspicions you have when you recall how this same situation occurred once before

Just like he planned

But now there's no shaking him off now

He’s following the both of you all throughout the day

Being sure to pick off your food with the toothpick that you’d been sucking on

Or being sure to lick the strokes on your popsicle you bought just moments before

Taking every opportunity to pull at your fingers whenever he wants to look at a ‘commoner’s’ stall

He’s even walking you home

Actually, he’s decided he wants a sleepover

You can’t refuse him, can you?

Because he does have that photo of you

How’d he get it? He’ll never tell

But you best cook him some commoner alternative to Italian cuisine

Otherwise, you’ll just have to pack up and come to his house

“Don’t forget (Y/n)~ you owe me for destroying this picture~! So what’s it going to be?”

Kaoru Hitachiin

“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you here! Been trying to widen my horizons and decided to try the commoner’s market! Mind if I hang out with you guys?”

He’s a lot more casual

Having a bonafide reason why he’s here

You would have never guessed he had bugged your phone when you last met

He’s great at acting casual

Oddly less mischievous without his brother

It's easy to oblige when he asks you to pose a ring for him

‘Don’t worry about it! It's for a friend of his!’ is what he says

Or when he asks about what you like off-handedly returning with it in hand from a supposed bathroom break

He’ll walk you and Haruhi home

So nice you only think it nice to offer your bathroom for the long drive he was in for on the way home

He couldn’t be happier to see the forgotten clothes strewn in your bathroom in person

Or letting the water run while he holds your toothbrush in his mouth then switch it with his decoy

“Thanks for spending your day with me! We’ve got to schedule one of around one of these days, preferably just the two of us!”

Mitsukuni “Honey” Haninozuka

“(Y/n)-channn!!! Come try this commoner food! It really is delicious!”

Honey has two stalking styles the silent type that makes use of his ninja prowess

And the type that just abandons watching you from afar entirely

He typically resorts to the former when you're out with potential rivals

Sabotaging every way he can before he results to pummeling the problem this person

But this time, it's personal

Haruhi is his friend but you are his future his sweetie cake just ripe for the taking

And while with most friends he doubts you’d be interested as he’s pretty confident they get the memo

But he knows Haruhi just draws people in that way

And he will not let that happen

So every time you go to look into her eyes he’s shoving ice cream, cake, tarts, his face in between you two

It's so much like his normal personality so neither of you questions it

It's also nothing to question when he walks you home before letting himself inside to give you whatever sweet you like

If you don’t like sweets he’s just bringing cake that he can invite himself to eat it

You can’t really stop him when he insists on exploring your home as if he didn’t already memorize where everything is

Moving faster than you can grab a hold of him he might let you go if you hug him+

“Wowww (Y/n), your house is so small! Y’know you should come to my house, it's way bigger! You can even have your own room at my place!”

Takashi Morinozuka

“...I didn’t want to disturb you two.”

He’s really good at this

Athleticism and stealth when he really tries give him the advantage

The only thing that can throw him off his game is you

He either gets lost as he watches you gush over a keychain or a stall you were particularly passionate about

So busy swooning silently that he’ll hardly notice when Haruhi finally taps him awake

With him, she’s the only one who can quite obviously tell

And since Mori has hardly shown any worrisome behavior she invites him

He’s so excited to be noticed by you

And will enthusiastically nod his head whenever you talk to me

Probably offered by Haruhi he’ll walk you home

Only now speaking more than he typically would

He can’t help but blush as he sees you continue to look at him only him

When he bids you goodnight he’ll stand in front of your home for awhile

Intensely watching your silhouette pad around in the window as you start your nightly routine

Imagining himself alongside you after his timer goes off he leaves reluctantly

Switching out with his subordinates

“Goodnight, (Y/n).”

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sumsumstrashbin · 1 year

Note

Hiya! I have another request. May I request one for James where the reader is in a different house (Preferably Hufflepuff cause that's mine, but if you prefer to keep the reader's house neutral (like it can be any of the other 3) idm either) where she's on the Quidditch team, and they beat Gryffindor, making James really sad cause it means the Gryffindor lost the Quidditch Cup that year (they're in 7th year in my head) and a few days later, Sirius comes up to her after a class and asks what she did to James, and Sirius explains that he's been really sad since the match, and the reader takes it upon herself to cheer James up, Sirius having 'accidentally' mentioned that James has a massive crush on the reader... I just have a lot of Marauders' oneshots.... sorry if the plot is quite specific.

𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟕𝟖𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞?

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The stands of the Quidditch pitch were roaring with life as you dove down on your broom, catching the snitch and ending the last match of the year. The Hufflepuff crowd cheered and waved banners around in excitement, while the Gryffindor spectators groaned and accepted their disappointing defeat. As your team was announced the victors of this year’s Quidditch Cup, you soared down to the field with the rest of your teammates to celebrate.

Amid the celebrations, you couldn’t help but glance over at the Gryffindor team, who was mourning their loss. James, your supposed “rival” looked completely disheartened, his dismay evident on his face. You exchanged a glance, and offered him a sympathetic smile as a truce, but he couldn’t return favour.

He trudged off the field with the rest of his team, and you shrugged off his reaction, continuing to celebrate with your friends.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

A few days had passed since the last game, and the parties were finally beginning to die down. However, your housemates insisted on one last bash to end off the year together before most of you graduated.

You were on your way back to your dorm after dinner to get ready for the party when you bumped into Sirius in the hall. You hadn’t seen him or any of the other Marauders since the Quidditch cup, though you hadn’t noticed that until now.

“Oi, Y/n. I need to talk to you.” Sirius spoke, putting his hands on his hips.

“What about?” You questioned, folding your arms.

“What have you done to James?”

You stared at him in confusion, racking your brain. “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything to him.”

“Merlin, I’ve never seen him so down before. All he does is mope around our dorm.”

“He can’t seriously still be so upset about the match.” You replied in disbelief.

“Maybe if we had lost to Slytherin he’d be less glum, but of course he had to lose to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s the difference?” You asked defensively.

“How could he not be upset when he fancies you as much as he does?” His eyes widened at his own statement, and he smacked a hand over his mouth. “Forget I said anything. Enjoy your party.” He rushed off without giving you time to react, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded in the corridor.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

As you got ready for the party, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Sirius said. Did James really have a crush on you? How had you not noticed? You thought this whole time that his playful banter with you during matches was just team rivalry.

You decided to confirm whether or not what Sirius said was true, grabbing your broom on the way out of your dorm.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

James was busy laying in bed and sulking when he heard a knock on his dorm window. He walked over, inspecting the source of the sound. As he looked out, he spotted you, sitting on your broom and hovering right next to the glass.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” He questioned as he opened the window.

“I’m here to get you off your ass.” As you spoke, you flew right through the window and into his room, hopping off of your broom.

“You’re bloody insane, you know that?” He said, fighting back the smile that was curling the corners of his lips upward.

“You’re the insane one. You’re so upset about losing that you haven’t had the courage to face me since the match. That’s not very “big brave Gryffindor” of you, James.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re the one that won.”

“Sirius might’ve let it slip that you fancy me. Is that true?”

Surprise and panic flashed across his face, though he tried to play it cool. “What? That’s not true in the slightest.”

“Is that so? Because I’ve never seen you so deeply upset about losing before.”

“So you admit that you watch me?”

“I never said that. I’m just saying, it’s hard to not notice.” You shrugged. “But anyway. I came to invite you to the Hufflepuff party tonight. Like, right now.”

“And why would I be interested in attending this party?”

“Oh, shut up and get dressed.” You quipped. “I’ll be waiting outside of your common room.”

“Fine.” He said with false reluctance, grabbing some clothes out of his trunk.

You mounted your broom, flying out the window but remaining near the opening.

“Oh, and James?”

“Yeah?” He turned to look at you.

“Dress nicer than that. It’s a date.”

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨…?

#james potter #the marauders #marauders #maraudersera #prongs #james x reader #james potter x reader #james potter fic #marauders x reader #prongs x reader #harry potter #harry potter oneshots #james potter oneshots #hp #hp fanfic

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foxyanon · 3 months

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All For You Teaser

Here’s the teaser for vamp!Masema, hopefully it’ll be done later this week

Masema Dagar was many things; wealthy businessmen, vampire and an amazing dresser. One thing everyone who ever saw him could agree on was that he was just as discerning with his woman as he was with business deals. No two of his lovers ever looked the same but all were as beautiful and talented as a pageant queen. It was well known he didn’t keep them around for a long time and to be one of his ladies was a ticket to a far better life.

At least, that’s what he was like before he met you. You, with your sweet scent and dazzling eyes, had ensnared him completely when you accidentally ran into each other at the antique mall he loved to browse. You were one of the seasonal workers, tasked with helping test the vintage dishware for radioactive paint and properly assess everything that came in before it went to the floor. You looked up to apologize, breath catching at the intense gaze in his eyes, before muttering your apology.

Masema, however, was already picturing what you’d look like in the 1957 Bar Suit from Dior with matching pumps. You were exactly what he was looking for, and mentally he was already moving meetings around so he could take you to his stylist and completely redo your entire wardrobe. He grinned at your wide eyed look, the tips of his fangs peeking out and glinting in the low light of the Edison bulbs illuminating the warehouse. Your sharp intake of breath and the sudden fluttering of your heart didn’t go unnoticed by the man who suddenly needed you to become his and only his. He took your hand, bringing it slowly to his lips to kiss the back of your hand and giving you his most charming smile.

“No need to apologize, little one. I came here looking for something specific and it appears I’ve just found it,” he said smoothly, the timbre of his voice sending shivers down your back in tandem with his fingertips gently rubbing over the veins of your wrists.

If you weren’t already speechless, he may have stolen your breath entirely with that statement. Your head was spinning and you were so lost in his eyes that you forgot you were at work. Attempting to regain some control over yourself and be professional, you cleared your throat awkwardly and went to take your hand back, but he simply tightened his grip and pulled you closer, turning your hand over to inhale your scent along your wrist.

“You smell delicious, little one. Something so sweet must have a name to match. Tell me it,” he spoke in that rich cadence, eyes locking with yours as his mouth watered at the thought of sinking his fangs into your skin. When you stuttered out your name, he tasted it on his tongue and found he liked it far more than he should. He needed no introduction, but he gave you one all the same and you swore he groaned when you spoke his name in your lovely voice.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, and far too beautiful to be working. Your man should be providing for a little thing like yourself, unless you don’t have one?” He was only asking out of courtesy, he’d already made up his mind you were leaving with him.

As personal as this conversation had quickly become, you found you couldn’t help but indulge. He was alarmingly handsome, charming and seemed wholly focused on you. Sure, he might not keep you for a long time, but it would be a fun one nonetheless.

“Umm, no. I don’t have a…man in my life,” you said quietly, allowing Masema to lead you towards the register where your boss was. He hummed in response, never releasing your hand.

“Their loss, since you will be mine now,” he said with a grin before waving your boss over. “This lovely lady and the red crushed velvet divan are coming with me,” he stated, pulling a small stack of cash out of his suit jacket and setting it on the counter. His tone left no room for debate, and he kissed your fingers before telling you to go collect your things. You listened, hearing your coworkers whisper how lucky you were as he always treated his girls very well. You only heard the stories, but you were both intrigued and confused as to why his focus was on you.

#masema #masema dagar #masema x reader #foxy teaser #vampire!masema #human!reader #modern vampire au #foxy queue

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help-itrappedmyself · 4 months

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DC trans week day 3

Prompt: Non-binary. Coming out discussion!

tw: for what could be slight transphobia, just in case

~~~~~

“Society doesn’t care what you want. You have to decide what you want and what you’re willing to do for it.” Kon tells him. "Society doesn't care about you, so don't let it dictate your life."

“That’s great, when it comes to things like world peace or whatever. But sometimes it’s hard to muster up that much fight just for yourself. Just little you against all of society’s expectations. Against the fear of judgment cast down by family and friends. I grew up knowing that I couldn’t tell my parents. At this point, I guess I’m just resigned. I’m used to living this way, It’s fine now.” He waves him off, turning away, but Kon flies around so he’s in front of him again.

“Tim, you know you deserve to fight for yourself too. We’ll fight with you.”

“This would be me going against everything I’ve been told since I was a child. I know what I was born into, what expectations people have of me. I’ve lived through society yelling and shoving me into a box. Telling me their constant opinions through tabloids and press. My parents telling me what I am, how to be, what I should be doing, how I should be dressing. They told me exactly how to appear to the world and they expected it. This is not something to be public with, it's private. I’ve long since learned, how you act in public and how you are in private are two separate things. It’s not a battle that needs to be fought, especially not one I need to force anyone else into.”

“Your parents shouldn’t have done that. But they’re not even here anymore, and you know that we don’t care! I mean, half of us are gay anyways. None of us would care how you identify. They would care that you’re keeping things from us, hiding such a big part of yourself for no reason!”

“Even those accepting of otherness sometimes don’t understand the answer ‘I don’t know’ or, even worse, ‘multiple of these things’. The world is binary, black and white. People don’t understand when they tell you to choose and not only do you not ‘choose’ but the answer is somehow ‘all of the above’. Even you, now, telling me it’s fine to ‘come out’. Come out as what? Unsure? Some secret third option, but not even I know what that is?”

“Sure, if that’s how you feel.” Kon is too calm about this, Tim feels. But he has run his anger and frustration dry and now just feels like crying. Or sleeping. Or crying himself to sleep. “Start with me. What pronouns do you want? Do you have a term or a label that you feel fits you, or do you prefer to go without labels?”

Tim huffs. Falls to the ground cross-legged. Kon comes over and sits down next to him. “Non-binary, I guess. Can’t really get more specific than that.”

“Pronouns?” Kon encouraged after a moment of silence.

Tim just shrugs. “None of them, all of them. Honestly, they annoy me because the whole point of pronouns is to talk about someone while they’re not there. Just use my name.”

“Name it is then.” Kon nudged Tim with his shoulder, and Tim slumped against him.

#dctransweek2024 #fandom event #fanfiction #my writing #nonbinary tim drake #supportive kon #tw: transphobia

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carlos-in-glasses · 1 year

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Carlos-in-Glasses Goes to Paris

For prosperity I’ve written up my experience of the First Responders Reunion Convention – which is my first convention experience. And what an overwhelmingly good and stressful time it was. Under the cut is my attempt to capture my memories and the essence of it, rather than a transcription of panels and meeting rooms, as others have already done the good work (or will be). I hope you find this interesting and useful if you do read, and if you have any specific questions (including about travelling alone/logistics/issues I had) I’ll do my best to provide a coherent answer.

I am very tired and this is slightly manic but here we go:

Friday: If you are among those who waited in line for three hours to register for the convention, even if I did not see or interact with you….I feel we are spiritually bonded forever by the experience. Blimey, crikey, and bloody hell. It was not clear at all how long the wait would be, but I was not expecting that! However, there was an undeniable thrill in the air. I was in pain all over, yet happy. By the late evening, dinner was half a tube of Pringles and a glass of red wine.

Saturday: Breakfast was four croissants. I actually recommend this because they really did carry me through until lunch. Not long after arriving, we were milling about in the lobby waiting for the opening ceremony to begin - when Ronen walked past up on the mezzanine/ balcony thing, waving to us, all fabulous and just….there in the flesh?!!!...and revealing his hair. We’d speculated that he’d dyed it pink or the bisexual pride flag colours, or “wouldn’t it be funny if it’s just brown?!” And it was brown! And it WAS Funny.

The opening ceremony was a trip lol. Holy shit. They played a music video compilation of the actors from each show (I never want to hear How to Save a Life by The Fray ever again. Jk jk don’t come for meee). There was an undulation of incredibly loud screaming whenever particular actors popped up on screen, so it was like being on a rollercoaster that wasn’t moving. Adrenaline was high by the time all the actors walked out on stage and say hello. It’s hard to explain exactly how bonkers it is to be in the same physical space as Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha and see their non-TV dimensions… TANGENT TIME:

….Speaking of dimensions! I tried to pay close attention to the height difference between Ronen and Rafa, but it’s also an optical illusion in real life? FYI, I’m 5 ft 7 – Ronen didn’t seem massively taller than me, Rafa did seem massively taller than me; next to each other it was like there was nothing in it. But in my photos they’re both much taller than me and Ronen looks slightly the biggest I think 🤔 So I have no clue what’s going on. In fact, I’m more confused than ever.

After the opening ceremony (which I fled from because fuuuck) I was waiting around due to rocking up early for my meeting room by accident. The schedule was a confusing design and I was far from the only person who was doing a sort of 'hit-and-hope' when it came to figuring out where to be and when, especially as things almost immediately overran, so other activities got moved around/ postponed. ANYWAY – Ronen walked right past with a member of staff who was instructing him. I overheard him tell her “It’s okay…I’m a pro at this.” He really did wander around like he owned the place. At one point he strolled through the lobby with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

My first activity was the meeting room with Ronen and Rafa (ie. a group of a set number of people in a room with actors for half an hour). By chance it turned out that I was sitting almost right next to them, with a gap left for the door between us. So, super close. And obviously they were both mesmerising. This was the meeting room where Rafa said “To catch the murderer, Carlos has to behave like one”, and explained that Carlos would have to murder parts of himself. His emphasis was on how Carlos’ innocence has been taken from him because his father’s life was stolen. For what it’s worth, I interpreted this as Rafa viewing the whole thing very much from an dramatic actor’s standpoint, and how he needs to get into the mindset of Carlos’ particular grief metaphorically, rather than meaning anything literal. He speaks quite intensely and thoughtfully and his choice of words is often bold. For anyone concerned about it, just remember he was asked a question and responded off the cuff the best he could in the moment, with limited time. He doesn’t write the show and I guess he’s making assumptions based on how season 4 left off, like the rest of us, unless he’s had very specific conversations with Tim (which, maybe! But he wouldn’t be able to give anything away. We don’t know anything). Then, when Ronen brought up TK dying (because Ronen always dies in the films/TV he does – using an axe to the chest as an example) it was pointed out that Tarlos is endgame, so he can’t die. Cue Rafa being like “Carlos could die with him! They die together!” I was like goodness me lads it’s early in the morning for this. I needed a brandy afterwards.

Next up was my Tarlos Duo Photoshoot. As noted above, everything had fallen behind schedule, and things were starting to get switched around. Honestly, it was confusing, daunting and stressful (please note: Am VERY easily confused, daunted, and stressed). But thanks to the power of following others and asking questions, I ended up where I needed to be. When it was my turn, Rafa immediately and warmly put his arm around me to pose but Ronen was talking to a staff member, so Rafa and I were just… touching each other for a good few seconds before Ro joined us! I took the opportunity to thank Rafa for doing this for us, but I can’t remember how he responded. Then the photo was taken. I told them they’re both amazing, they said “aw thanks” at the same time, and again I fled the scene. As there are so many people, the shoot you have is super speedy. I advise really trying to keep your cool even though it’s a highly flustering situation. You don’t want it to become a total blur or something you regret, because it really is lovely to be next to them and quickly say a few words and get a keepsake afterwards.

My next activity was autographs and selfies with Natacha and Sierra. A super lovely thing. I gave them cards I'd written (as I also did for Rafa and Ronen the next day). Sierra was an absolute highlight for me. Just the warmest, kindest person. A total joy. She opened her card in front of me and I was like nooooo don't. It truly felt like she’d come to the convention for the opportunity to meet us, rather than the other way around. She told me she liked my outfit and said I look beautiful in pink. Similar to what I said to Rafa, I thanked her and told her I can’t imagine what it’s like for them to do this, expecting her to quickly say “oh you’re welcome” or something. But she started having a mini-philosophical conversation with me about the nature of fame and fandom! Then she said “it is overwhelming in the best way” because she gets to see the human heart behind all the messages etc (I’m paraphrasing). I said “it’s all about love” and she said “yes! It’s all about love, absolutely.” She was a true delight. And Natacha is a blast. She also complimented my pink outfit and I was like ???? Thanks????!!! Gahhh. The selfies came out way more flattering than the photoshoot. The lighting. Oof.

The last Saturday thing for me was the panel with Ronen and Rafa. It was quite brief but there were some real gems. Rafa saying he only has eyes for Tarlos. Ronen saying “Safe in their apartment holding on to each other. I think Carlos is TK’s honeymoon.” I melted. I let our an audible aww.

Sunday: The first thing was a Lone Star quiz in the panel room with Natacha and Sierra. They were so fun and such good sports. Then it was the Lone Star panel, where Natacha, Sierra, Ronen and Rafa were all on stage together answering fan questions. It was really nice to see them all interact, banter and laugh together. Sierra made a point of saying they’re all close in real life and hang out in their free time. There was a great vibe between them and such a good atmosphere in the room. I loved it when Rafa told Ronen that he was out of rhythm when it came to learning the pilot episode line dance; Ronen argued that he smashed it and there's video evidence. Rafa's response was "Sweetie, no."

I then had the autograph and selfie sessions with Rafa and Ronen, but because the Lone Star panel overran, suddenly Ronen had his photoshoot session instead, so I had a clash between going to that or staying downstairs for Rafa. I was trying to figure out what to do until the queen that is @actuallysara got some clarity from a staff member and we went up to Ronen, but by that point the upper level by the studio was crowded and chaotic. Be advised to prepare for disarray if you’ve never been to a convention before. It might be that you experience no scheduling issues or confusion, but just be prepared for the advent anyway. As it happened, I was through quickly for my photo with Ronen – again thanks to Sara locating the door! Ronen, hungover, was wearing his sunglasses, so I wore mine. He did a dumb pose without saying anything; I grinned at the camera and then thanked him and ran off again to get back downstairs where Rafa was still signing autographs. I got to tell him he plays my favourite character of all time and we took a selfie I really love ahhhh. Then Rafa had to leave for his photoshoot – which was my next thing – so I ran back upstairs and was one of the first in line! So I was like “heeey nice to see you again so soon…!” He remembered my name – I guess because he’d only just written it down 😅 I thanked him for the 10th time – just couldn’t stop thanking everyone like I’d caught a disease where the symptom is permanent gratitude. THEN I ran downstairs to do the autograph and selfie with Ronen, who was running late – so that got postponed to the afternoon after we’d already waited a long while. When it did happen it was great - I can't remember what I said to him but I assume it was polite and made sense – although a chaotic queuing system again ensued. A whole long line of us were crushed together in the heat. I had an Aperpol spritz after and when I tell you I’d never needed a drink like that more…

That was it for my paid activities! Unknown to me at the time, my final glimpse of Ronen, Rafa, Sierra and Natacha was when I was sitting on the floor eating Ritz Crackers while they were wandering past on their way to/from whatever they were doing next. It felt so normal to see them around at that point. We gathered for the closing ceremony, thinking we’d see all the actors on stage once more for a goodbye, but the ceremony had to happen without any of the actors because of running late. So, I cherish my ‘seeing them in the hallway’ memories.

Overall feelings and would I do it again? If you’ve never been to a convention before but want to, do go into it with open eyes: There’s potentially a lot of waiting around and standing in line for a long time in a hot space (sometimes the line is more like a shapeless crowd and you don’t know where it begins and ends). Some of the activities are quite rushed. They fall behind schedule easily and you have to be agile about where to go next and what to do. The Dream It team worked super hard and could do with employing more staff in stewarding roles, ideally wearing something that identifies them as such (the staff blended in with the visitors of the convention). But I don’t know the economics of their staffing situation so maybe they can’t grow the team. Anyway, having more signs up also would have been useful. When you do get your moment with Ronen, Rafa, Sierra, Natacha though – or whoever you have come to see – it really is beautiful and meaningful.

Right now, I’m flipflopping – but mainly I think once is enough for me, unless they come to a convention the UK. There’s a couple of aspects I’d like to ‘do over,’ but perhaps not enough to try to recreate the magic a second time, given the expense of it?? That might change over the coming months – we’ll see! I went to this convention with the goal of meeting Ronen and Rafa (with Natacha and a Sierra being a glorious bonus as I booked it long before they were announced as guests) to tell them in person thank you and I love you – and I achieved that. I do think it was worth my money, but it is very expensive and tiring. I was lucky to be in a good position to pay for it this year, which might not be the case going forward. You really need to be able to afford to do it, and genuinely want to do it, knowing you’re paying money for something that is going to have some hard and challenging aspects as well as the amazing and joyful. Personally, I love that I went once. I didn’t love the Super Endurance Test of 2023 that was standing in line for three hours on Friday after travelling hahaaaaaa god. I loved the selfies and autograph sessions. I didn’t love the photoshoot outcomes but I loved that I’ve had Rafa’s large hand on my shoulder because I'm slutty so. I love that I looked into both his and Ronen’s eyes and told them how great they are. I love that I uploaded my selfie with Rafa to my instastory and he viewed it, so there’s just a line of my friends’ names, then actuallyrafa, then a line of my friends’ names 🤣

I also want to note that in real life, compared to footage of them in interviews/insta lives/wherever, I think you get even more of a sense of just how different they are to their characters. It made me respect them all even more than I already did, which I didn’t think was possible. They are SO talented.

BUT most importantly: The reason why this was so brilliant was @actuallysara, without whom I wouldn’t have thought I could travel alone to Paris and do this at all. Sara, meeting you and giving you a big hug was also the dream. You are so helpful and knowledgeable and kind ,and once again your flags were a fantastic idea and I’m so happy I got to sign them. I hope I get to see you again very soon. Thank you from the depths of my soul. @meditating-honey-badger (and your fabulous companion…!) it was a true delight to hang out, and chill out, and have such funny and deep conversations. You are an absolute light and I loved meeting you. I hope so much to see you again too. Like Sara, it could never be too soon. And @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut. What can I say. What can I possibly say. I want to make drinking on rooftop bars while talking about writing our thing. I’ve never done that with anyone else. We really went through this side by side and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I already miss you and I thank you too. You are, in fact, the warmest doughnut in town. All of you, forever ❤️. You made it what it was.

(Digitally applied giant aviator sunglasses and some editing so the Tarlos duo photoshoot doesn't count as a face reveal. Thank you also to the lovely people who made bracelets and handed them out.)

#dream it convention #first responders reunion #Tarlos #First convention experience

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hoshologies · 1 year

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11:32 pm, bang c.

genres &&. warnings — angst, hurt/no comfort &&. crying, heartbreak, mutual pining but forbidden love, are you asking too much of chan?

word count — 1.3k

note — inspired specifically by that one line in seasons by wave to earth "i can't be your life because i'm afraid i'll ruin your life."

it feels like your bones rattle with every step you take, rushing down this stairwell faster than you ever have before. the last time you descended this particular staircase, it had been with a smile on your face and a fluttering in your heart, hope for a future that you thought was about to be within reach. you’d never been more wrong in your life.

“c’mon, can you just stop and come back upstairs? please.” chan’s voice echoes above you, his footsteps drawing closer and pushing you faster down the stairs.

your attitude towards that man has taken a complete one-eighty over the last ten minutes, drastically different than it had been when you’d shown up for what you’d begun calling your weekly date night: takeout and movies in his bed. stupid for so many things, so many reasons. you have to get out of here; there’s no fire in the building, but your chest burns like you’re breathing in hot smoke.

it’s a relief when your feet finally hit the bottom floor and you step out into the cool night air of seoul. the breath you heave trembles with tears, but it’s still so welcome, chilling the ache in your lungs. glad to be out of that damned suffocating building, you take two steps in the direction of the subway when the boy you can’t get away from fast enough bursts out onto the sidewalk behind you.

“wait!” chan is breathless, you can hear it in his voice; you don’t need to turn around to know that his chest is heaving, one of his hands resting over his belly button because it’s a scene you’ve been witnessed to many a time after he’s chased you around his apartment, laughing rather than crying. “can we please talk about this?”

any sadness you felt three seconds ago is scorched away, a fiery anger taking its place. talk? he wants to talk about this? he was doing plenty of that five minutes ago, shooting you down like it was nothing. no, now it’s your turn to talk.

you whip around on your heels, any semblance of calm dissipating. “talk? okay, sure. i’ll talk. fuck you, chris.” as far as you’re concerned, he’s lost all privileges to the sweet names you’ve been calling him for months. “you don’t wanna tell anybody about us? that’s fine. i get it. you don’t wanna go on dates in public? okay. i understand how important your image is to your job. i don’t complain, i’ve never complained. i come here at late hours to see you, even when i’m practically dead on my feet or have to be up early the next morning because seeing you is always the best part of my day.”

“i know–”

you shake your head, letting out a sarcastic huff of amusement. “i’m not done. so we have these nights, right? and we do all of these things together and you treat me so well. things are great and i feel comfortable and… fuck, how is someone not supposed to fall in love with you, huh? after all of the stuff we’ve done, how was i supposed to not catch feelings?”

you’re not done with your diatribe, but you need a second to catch your breath a second time. chan stands there, arms limp at his sides as he stares at you. his eyes are wide and sad and there is sadness and regret written all over his face, but no amount of puppy dog eyes is going to fix this situation the way they’ve fixed far more minor situations.

“i was nervous the whole fucking day, chris. i wanted tonight to be the night that i told you how i felt and after all the time we’ve spent together, the number of mornings i’ve woken up in your bed, i really thought you’d reciprocate–”

“i do!” he exclaims, completely exasperated; the frustration in his voice immediately sours the last few shreds of fond feelings. “i do feel the same. i told you that inside!”

you throw your hands into the air in irritation before you bring them back down to cover your face and turn on your heels away from the boy in front of you. this whole situation is fucking ridiculous and you find yourself wishing that you’d never gotten involved with him in the first place, something bitter and so far from the truth; meeting chan was the best thing that’s ever happened and you’ve never regretted a single thing you’ve done with him. but this is all too much.

“yeah, but you immediately followed it up with ‘but i can’t be with you,’” you reply, tears pooling at your waterline against your wishes. the last thing you want to do is cry in front of him… again.

you hear him take a step forward, his sneakers scuffing against the concrete. “because i can’t be with you the way you want me to be. i can’t give you what you need.”

one tear falls, a second follows, and then they just won’t stop. that dam has finally broken. you turn to face him again; you’ve cried in front of him once tonight, so it doesn’t really matter anymore. he’s seen you at your absolute worst anyways.

“who the fuck are you to decide that?” you question, voice trembling. your eyes are no doubt pleading. you’ve never begged him for anything ever, but you’re coming dangerously close to that territory now. “i’ve been content so far, haven’t i?”

“but that can always change,” he reasons, closing the gap between you entirely. you want him close, but at the same time, you want to push him away. he’s the last person you want to see right now yet also the only person you want to tell about all of this because he’s been everything to you; nobody understands you the way he does, knows you as intimately as him.

“oh my god. it’s been months, chan. if i wasn’t in this for the long run, i would have left already. i would have told you. the fact that i’m still standing here trying to reason it out with you should be proof enough that i don’t fucking care about what you think you can and can’t do for me because we’ve worked so many other things out before. why isn’t that enough?”

he goes silent and your personal corner of seoul goes silent with him. there’s nobody else out, but it feels like the entire world is watching this fold out, some ridiculous forbidden love that never even stood a chance because why would it have? you’re not part of his world, you never have been. you were stupid for thinking that somehow, he’d let you come along for the ride.

when he doesn’t answer, you laugh mirthlessly, more a scoff than anything. you take a step backwards and he goes to follow, but you shake your head.

“there. we did it. we talked. and you still don’t want to try and figure this out, even though you want this just as much as i do. so i think we’re done here.”

you turn on your heels again, ready to take the thirty minute walk to your apartment because you can’t bear to be around anyone else right now. chan calls for you to wait again, but you shake your head, pushing back tears.

“i’m done waiting, chris. i’ve been doing it for weeks, so now it’s your turn. figure out just how much you’ll fight for this if you want me as much as you say you do.”

leaving chan has always been a hard thing to do, but never has hard as this. you want to turn around and hug him tight, but you force yourself forward down the sidewalk. he has always been a fighter, so you want to believe he’ll fight for you, to have you. he’s never let you down before.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan timestamps #skz x reader #skz timestamps #bang chan angst #skz angst #skz.fic #bang chan.fic #timestamp.fic #writing.fic

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angel-fics · 1 year

Text

The Lost Boys Head Canons: What They Are Like in Bed

okok, i’ve been kinda anxious to make this one bc i haven’t written anything like this on this new blog and i never really got around to making NSFW head canons on my other account, but you know what, it has to be done

i feel like this is too detailed but also not detailed enough and i have so many thought so please, if you want, ask for elaborations or one shots of a specific character, or is you just want a longer list of kinks (and examples👀)

(both dom and sub for all my readers)

David:

*Dom!David

-He’s very much in control, he’s a controlling guy in general and that would translate in bed

-David will always tell you exactly what position he wants you in and won’t accept anything else

-A big kink of his is to make you believe that he’s only after his own pleasure and that he doesn’t care whether you get off or not

-Other kinks of his include being referred to as an authority figure; sir, master, daddy etc… Also, biting, he doesn’t care about hurting you while in a session, though he will take great care of you afterwards

-Will have sex in front of others to establish dominance and power over you and your body, will not ever in any way be affectionate in front of others, he has trouble with love and sex; he feels they are two completely separate things that cannot intersect in any way (if you’re cool with it, why not?)

*Sub!David

-There is not an existing universe where this man isn’t somehow in charge, definitely a pillow princess, everything has to go the way he wants it to even if he’s not on top or “in charge”

-huge brat, does whatever he wants even if he knows he’ll get punished for it, even if it means you won’t let him cum, he’ll disobey just to prove a point

-surprisingly a lot more affectionate like this, and relaxed. David spends most of his time trying to wrangle in his rowdy brothers and keep Max’s secret of being head vampire for their family’s safety. It takes a huge toll on his well being and mental health, not that he’d admit it

-When subbing, David’s biggest kinks are being spoiled/pampered, body worship and praise. please tell this man to calm down bc he’s the worlds best son, he really needs to calm down

-definition of “i can’t fix him, but i can fuck him. maybe that will calm him down”

Marko:

*Dom!Marko

-Not gonna lie, i can’t really see him as a dom, maybe a switch, but not a full-on dom. Service dom would be closest I could see it happening

-Marko is all about pleasure, both for himself and for you, mostly you. He wants sex to be fun and exhilarating, it’s not about power or relieving tension for him, just being close to you and loving on you is good for him and that’s enough

-If you’re relatively new to sex or in a particular mood, he’ll take charge and gently tell you how and where he wants you, his first priority being your comfort and pleasure in the bedroom

-His links as a dom would include body worship (giving), praise (giving), and fucking in any position where he has full access to your face (he likes to cum on your face)

*Sub!Marko

-I feel like Marko is more at home here. he’s a very amenable guy who likes to go along with whatever people tell him to, so he’d have close to no problem following orders and instructions that you give him

-Honestly, if he were to be “disobedient” it would be bc he cracked a joke at the wrong time and accidentally shifted the mood away from sex. And it’s always the lame ass dad jokes, too. He can be a lot more comedic than that but it’s always the dad jokes that make you start laughing (one time he said something like “what does the ocean say to the shore? nothing, it waved” while you were giving him head and you snorted so hard you nearly bit his dick off. he did not learn his lesson and your sex life is full of near misses)

-Whimpers, he told me himself, he whimpers like crazy. He’s not too loud in bed unless he’s talking (this dude will try to have a full on conversation with you while trying not to cum down your throat without permission). But yeah, Marko whimpers and it really gets you going

-His kinks include being edged, being overstimulated, being punished in any way, when you ride his face while not letting him touch you, and praise. (just tell him he’s doing a good job while he’s making you breakfast and homie will catch a boner so fast)

Paul:

*Dom!Paul

-He really, really likes when you’re disobedient. And he won’t punish you for it, no, he’ll reassert himself as being in charge. This will include yanking back your hair and exposing your fragile neck to his sharp fangs or rapidly changing your position to daze you into submission

-It’s all fun for Paul, he likes the challenge associated with taming someone so he couldn’t be with someone who was mindlessly obedient at first. Sex and fun go hand in hand with him and that’s how he likes it

-He doesn’t really think he’s some hardcore dom like David is, but he isn’t about just hand you your orgasms like Marko would try to. You have to work to please him for him to please you, give and take, equals

-His kinks would be to pull your hair, spit in your mouth, tie you up, and biting (not hard enough to break skin, but he likes how it scares you, thinking he’ll feed from you if you misbehave) He’s not really into anything that would actually hurt you, he just likes to scare you a bit

*Sub!Paul

-He feels really at home here, tbh, but he’s not very good and being submissive. I think he’s naturally a bit submissive, but he will always be a rebel in his core.

-He likes to push your buttons and rile you up. So he will follow all of your rules but constantly bends them to see how far it takes for you to snap. It’s infuriating and Paul is often punished for this. He likes it

-His biggest kink (both dom and sub) is trying new things. He doesn’t have any hard “no’s” so he’s pretty much up for anything at least once so long as it doesn’t threaten his or your safety. And he loves when you take charge bc even tho he’s up for new things, he needs someone who wants to make a go of it and tell him what to do

-As a sub, his kinks are being ordered around (just for the purpose of getting in your last nerve). He loves being punished with orgasm denial just to constantly beg for forgiveness and watch you give into him. Pull and yank his hair while on top, he goes nuts for that. Bite him back and leave marks, omg leave marks, he adores it for days afterwards

Dwayne:

*Dom!Dwayne

-Service dom through and through. And not in the way that Marko is, Dwayne will order you around firmly and you will obey him, no ifs, ands, or buts about it

-He doesn’t like to punish you, at all, but he won’t allow you to get away with being a brat either. He will edge you until you promise to obey, or he will overstimulate you until you pass out from exhaustion

-He’s pretty serious in bed compared to the others. Like, even David will tease you a little and play mind games, both Paul and Marko like to mess around, but Dwayne will not. He’s very passionate and extremely sensual, there’s nothing on his mind other than your body and your obedience

-His kinks include brat taming, leaving marks (bites and fingerprint-shaped bruises on your body), marathon sex/multiple orgasms, rough sex (he gets a little pep in his step if he accidentally breaks the boards in your bed), and exhibitionism (not really intentional, he feels as tho it’s his right to fuck you whenever and wherever he gets the desire to)

*Sub!Dwayne

-Like Marko being a dom, it’s hard to see Dwayne as a sub. All in all, if you want to be in charge, he’ll let you, but only because he prioritizes your pleasure and doesn’t really mind being told what to do

-Out of all of them, Dwayne is the most obedient, he’ll do whatever you want happily and without complaint, you hardly ever punish him. The few times you have are when he wanted to be on top and tried to take control of you (if you tie him up as a punishment, he won’t give you any trouble after that)

-He is loud, so fucking loud. He begs. Whimpers. Moans. Cries. Babbles incoherently about how amazing and beautiful you are, about how good he will be for you, and how badly he needs to make you cum

-His main kinks when subbing are being tied up, being edged, praise and degradation (whew, good luck with that), he loves being ordered around once he gets into the whole sub dynamic, and being marked (please leave scratches on his chest, abs, and v-line, he will brag about them to anyone who asks)

#fanfic #the lost boys #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #new account #paul the lost boys #smut #romance #head canons #i posted this was wondering why it wasn’t getting any likes #i forgot to add tags like the dumbass i am

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jswayman1 · 3 months

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can i request something hurt/comfort with brad marchand, maybe after the team gets knocked out?

i kneel in front of the locker you're already grieving, you turn to me; eyes haunted by the game to come. yellow has never felt so sorrowful.

IN WHICH, emotions run high pre-game, dreams hang on a knife's edge, and bonds are tested in the face of impending loss

i KNOW you requested a post-game fic, but BARE WID ME. already working on a part two for you.

2.5k words, 14k characters in all, LOTTA angst. 2023 Game 7 if that helps narrow it down for you. Yeah.

a song to listen to while reading: BEING LOVED ISN'T THE SAME AS BEING UNDERSTOOD, VINES

The arena’s cold, brisk air tingles against my skin as I step inside TD Garden. The familiar hum of fluorescent lights, the faint scent of popcorn, and the sharp, almost metallic tang of ice flood my senses, anchoring me in this moment. Tonight's Game 7 against the Florida Panthers holds a weight unlike any other game I’ve experienced.

This is my second playoff season with Brad, and the stakes have never felt higher. As the assistant captain of the Bruins, he’s shouldered immense pressure all season, trying to move past the once reckless and angry rat title he's held. Now, with the possibility of elimination looming, especially with their record this time, the atmosphere almost feels explosive with tension.

Walking through the corridors, I spot some of the other WAGs right in the tunnel. Their designer jackets, specifically made for them, and meticulously styled hair do little to hide the anxiety etched on their faces.

It’s not just about the game; it’s about what happens after. The camaraderie among us is palpable yet tinged with the growing rivalry these two teams have, we all want our partners to shine. To be the heroes, if you will; but only one team can win.

I pause near the lounge area, where a few of the wives and girlfriends have gathered.

Mia, a jet-black-haired striking girl with an infectious laugh, waves me over. Her boyfriend, Jake, is one of the team’s wingers. We’ve bonded over the past few months, finding solace in shared experiences and the unique rhythm of hockey life.

"How are you holding up?" She asks, her voice a blend of concern and excitement. "First Game 7, right?"

"Yeah," I nod, attempting a smile. "It’s a lot to take in."

Mia’s eyes soften. "It doesn’t get easier, but you learn to ride the highs and brace for the lows. Tonight’s huge, though. The guys are feeling the pressure."

I glance around, taking in the nervous energy. "Have you seen Brad?"

Mia shakes her head. "Not since the warm-ups. He seemed focused, though. More than usual."

Before I can respond, Coach Montgomery appears, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning the room. His presence is commanding, a stark reminder of the gravity of tonight’s game. I’ve only exchanged pleasantries with him a few times, but his dedication is… well, pretty undeniable. What he’s done for this team in such a short amount of time is cinema.

"Ladies," he acknowledges us with a nod, his expression a mix of determination and weariness. "It’s going to be a tough one, but we’re prepared."

As he moves past, I catch sight of Jeremy Swayman, the young goaltender. His face is a mask of concentration, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He’s the substitute tonight for Linus Ullmark, who's undoubtedly winning the Vezina, but out due to tearing his groin last game.

Jeremy has been performing well too - no doubt he's been the top backup in the league - but ever since Mia told me about his girlfriend Tori breaking up with him after three years together, he’s been struggling.

In addition, he now faces the pressure of ending the best season in NHL history and potentially losing key players Bergeron and Krejci to retirement if he fails to win this game.

I catch Jeremy's gaze for a brief moment, offering him a small, reassuring smile before he turns back to his thoughts. The weight on his shoulders is immense, and I can only imagine the whirlwind of emotions churning inside him.

I make my way over to Jeremy, hoping to give him some words of support before the game begins. As I approach, I observe how his hands are balled up into tight fists and his body is tense with nerves.

"You got this." I say softly, trying to break through his pre-game reverie.

Jeremy turns to me abruptly, his eyes widening a bit as he's pulled out of his thoughts. His face is tinged with surprise, but it's tinged with another emotion that I can't quite place.

He runs a hand through his messy hair, the brown strands sticking up and falling back around a pale, weary face. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable for a moment.

"Yeah?" he asks, voice hushed but rough from nerves.

"I mean it." I say firmly, holding his gaze. "You're an incredible goalie, and you've got this. I've seen you play. You've been the best backup in the league this season. You're ready for this."

Jeremy lets out a dry scoff, his hands clenching into even tighter fists next to him. The tension is obvious in his muscles, in the way his jaw is set and his shoulders are taut. "Pressure's on," he mutters, his voice dripping with a bitter mix of self-deprecation and nerves.

I let out a low breath, seeing how he's doubting himself already. "Pressure's always on in this league," I say quietly but with a sharp tone. But you've risen to the occasion every other time? You'll do it again tonight. I have faith in you."

He looks at me then, the doubt still in his eyes, but something else too. A flicker of vulnerability, of need for reassurance. He's fairly new, always been reserved and private from what I know about him, but I think tonight that veneer has cracked a bit.

Jeremy lets out a shaky exhale; his brow furrowed as he tries to rein in his nerves. I can see the internal struggle in his face, the battle between fear and confidence waged fiercely inside his mind.

"I don't know," he chokes out, his voice a strangled whisper. "This isn't just another game, and… -- well, I've never been the number one. They're all just… all watching. Expecting."

He looks away, his gaze going distant as he speaks, his voice wavering.

I step closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He's tall, but even standing next to him, I can sense the way he's coiled so impossibly tight, holding all the pressure in his body.

"Yes, they're watching." I say, my voice low and sure. "But you've been trained for this. You're one of the most dedicated athletes I've ever seen. You've prepared for this moment. Use it."

His eyes dart to mine, and there's a flash of something like hope in them, before it's washed away by another wave of self-doubt.

Jeremy lets out a bitter laugh, but it's interrupted by a sharp inhale, as if he's trying to hold back something bigger. Maybe tears, maybe a scream, maybe just his emotions bubbling to the surface.

"I have been preparing, and I have trained." He says, his voice cracking a little despite his effort to keep composure. "I don't think it's going to be enough."

His gaze is wide and raw, a mixture of fear and desperation looking back at me.

"Enough is subjective." I say firmly, my grip on his shoulder tightening. "Don't let yourself spiral. You are enough, Jeremy. For this team, for this game, for yourself."

Jeremy sucks in a deep breath, his body shuddering under my touch. It's like I can feel the tension in his muscles, the way he's holding himself together physically but falling apart mentally.

His eyes close for a brief moment, his lashes trembling against his skin. When he opens them again, staring straight ahead, they're still wide in fear, but there's a fire there too.

"You make it sound so simple," he mutters, his voice choked with emotion. "It's not, though. Not when everything's on the line."

I nod, understanding his struggle even if I can't relate directly. The pressure he's under is enormous, more than most people will see in their lives. I can only imagine what it feels like to have the weight of such a thing on your shoulders.

"I know." I say softly, my tone a mix of softness and steel. "But you're not alone. The team believes in you. Brad believes in you. I believe in you. You just have to believe in yourself."

He gazes at me with his mouth half-open and eyebrows slightly raised, as if he is touched by what I said, but he doesn't have a chance to speak before--

"Swayman, get over here NOW!"

Jeremy's gaze snaps towards the voice, the harsh sound of his name being called in that authoritative tone breaking the fragile moment between us. His body stiffens, and the expression of vulnerability on his face vanishes, replaced by a mask of concentration.

I step back, watching as he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. He looks every bit the professional now, but I can see the turmoil of emotions just beneath the surface.

He glances back at me for a brief moment, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and fear, and then he does as said, walking towards Coach Montgomery.

I leave him to his thoughts before making the decision to visit Brad quickly. The game is about to start, and the anticipation is nearly suffocating. I turn to reach the locker room entrance, where the muffled sounds of last-minute strategies and pep talks drift through the door.

Before I can enter, I’m… well, intercepted by Patrice Bergeron, the captain and Brad’s best friend. His usually warm and inviting eyes are shadowed with worry. Tonight could be his last game, and the weight of that knowledge is etched into every line of his face.

"Hey," he greets me, his voice hushed. "You doing alright?"

"Trying to be," I admit. "How’s Brad?"

"He’s focused," Patrice replies. "But… it’s tough. We all know what’s at stake. Not just the game, but the future. Especially for guys like me and Krejci."

I swallow hard, feeling the lump in my throat. "It’s not going to be the same without you."

He smiles faintly, a bittersweet expression. "That’s life, isn’t it? Constantly changing. Just make sure you’re there for him, no matter what happens."

"I will," I promise, feeling the weight of his words settle over me.

As Patrice heads back into the locker room, I linger for a moment, gathering my thoughts. This is it. The culmination of an incredible, record-breaking season, and the potential end of an era. I take a deep breath and step inside.

As I push open the door to the bustling locker room, my gaze immediately lands on Brad. He sits on a bench in a secluded corner, his head bowed and hands knotted together as if in prayer. His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched, and my heart sinks at the sight of him in such distress.

I cautiously approach, not wanting to disturb his intense focus. As I come closer, his gaze meets mine and my heart races with conflicting emotions. In his eyes, I see a fierce determination, but also a hint of fear and uncertainty. Yet there's something else, something deeper that I can't quite decipher. My mind is torn between wanting to ease his worry and wanting to understand the turmoil within him.

"Hey," I whisper, kneeling in front of him. "How are you holding up?"

He exhales sharply, reaching out to take my hands in his. "I’m … hanging in there. Lockin' in."

His grip on my hands is firm, almost desperate, and I can feel the slight tremble of his fingers. The weight of the game, the season, and the potential end of an era is bearing down on him, and it’s almost palpable in the air between us.

“You know you’ve got this," I say, my voice steady. "You’ve been incredible all season, Brad. No matter what happens tonight, you’ve given it everything."

His fingers tighten around my hands, a silent thank you. His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a small glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Despite his usual fiery personality, he looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him, and it’s almost disconcerting.

"I just…" he starts, pausing to collect his thoughts.

It’s… well, rare for Brad to struggle with his words, and the brief moment of hesitation speaks volumes about the intensity of his thoughts. He takes another deep breath, his gaze fixed on our intertwined hands.

"I just don’t want to let anyone down," he continues, his voice quieter. "The team. The city. Myself. I’ve worked so damn hard to get here."

He lets go of one of my hands, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. I can’t tell if his expression is torn between hope and resignation—

"I don’t want this season to be over," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s been the best damn year of hockey I’ve ever played, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Nothing’s certain."

He clenches his jaw, his shoulders tensing. The thought of the future, uncertainty looming, is clearly weighing heavily on him, adding to the already immense pressure.

I squeeze his hand, trying to offer him some comfort, some reassurance. I honestly… don’t know that words aren’t enough to ease the anxiety coursing through him, but I do my best to convey my support and understanding.

"You’ve already done so much this season, Brad. You’ve broken records, led the team to greatness. This season is already a success, no matter what happens tonight."

"It doesn’t feel like enough."

His voice is tight, filled with a mixture of disappointment and determination. The drive to win, to push further, is just a part of who he is. Anything short of victory, no matter how incredible the season, will never be enough for him. "I want the fucking cup."

There’s no need to sugarcoat the truth. Winning the cup is the ultimate goal for every player in the league, and Brad has tasted its sweetness before. The hunger for that feeling, the need to experience it again, fuels his every move.

"I know you do." I sigh softly, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles soothingly. "And you know this team can do it. We all believe in you."

As the door creaks open, I see that there are only three of us in the room: myself, Brad, and now Patrice walking towards us. No one says anything, but when he reaches us, Patrice extends his gloved hand for Brad to take.

Brad looks up at Patrice, his gaze meeting his best friend’s steady one. For a moment, they share a silent exchange, the kind that only comes from years of understanding between brothers.

Brad reaches out and takes Patrice’s hand, holding on like he’d fall if let go. Their bond is evident in the subtle expressions they share, as if silently preparing themselves for the game ahead.

Patrice pulls him to his feet, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. They exchange a brief nod, a silent pact between teammates, friends, and brothers. The years they spent together, the memories they share, it’s all coming to a head on this one night.

Patrice claps him on the shoulder, a gesture of reassurance and support. "It's alright, man."

Brad lets out a deep breath, his expression a mix of determination and nervous energy. He gives Patrice a brief, sharp nod before turning back to me, meeting my gaze with a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual swagger.

I give his hand one last squeeze, wishing I could say more, do more, to ease his tension. "Go out there and play like only you can." I murmur, my voice soft and earnest. "We’re all counting on you."

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madtomedgar · 2 years

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ok my real unpopular jgy opinion is that if i had read the novel first, i would have h a t e d him, specifically because of how the situation with nmj is different. the thing he does in the novel, where he stabs himself to get nmj to drop his guard so he can get away, i fucking hate when people do that shit. my brother used to do that to me when he was mad at me and wanted me to get in trouble. literally would throw himself down the stairs or rip off a scab so he was bleeding, then start bawling his brains out until parents showed up and say i did it, and it always worked.

and then, after that, it makes a lot of sense why nmj doesn’t buy it when jgy is injured, socially, physically, emotionally, and trying to argue for leniency based on his being injured. because the last time this happened, he saw jgy injure himself to make himself more sympathetic, and then took the opening that generated and ran with it. i would not buy someone’s sob story after i watched them do that! it makes sense to look at a similar scenario and think maybe that person is up to something again! and the “oh, but you know How He Is :( he just Won’t Listen :’(” is, again, something I’ve been on the receiving end of, and I hate it when people do that.

however, the cql relationship is immensely sympathetic to me, especially at the time i first watched the show. like. boss who sets you up to fail by putting you in a position of authority that a) makes sense with your skills but b) other people will think is arbitrary and then doing nothing to help you gain the respect of others you need to do your job, and unintentionally undermining you? co-workers blatantly fucking you over because they don’t respect you, and credit for your work and the success you managed to eke out despite everyone else being colossal fuckwads the entire way getting taken by and attributed to others? sometimes the fuckwads in cheif?? and then meanwhile boss is telling you not to complain and occasionally tromping in to make things worse by waving his authority around, instead of doing what you asked which would have actually been helpful?? and when you finally snap and do something about the fuckwads, somehow you are the bad person in this scenario, despite everything that you and your boss both know you have done for him, at great expense to yourself, despite what you both know he owes you?

See that is some good shit. I want to be cql meng yao’s union rep. not only will i buy him a drink and help him hide the body, i will switch his boss’s cologne with poison ivy juice.

And then nmj fixating on him and blaming him for everything for no good reason AFTER JGY SAVES HIS LIFE NOT ONCE BUT TWICE and ALMOST DIES one of those times! and just expecting him to periodically absorb his (very dangerous and painful!) rage like it’s nbd and if jgy has a problem with that it’s further proof it’s all his fault? defending jgy on tumblr is not enough i require a weapon etc.

so like. yeah i know in the novel the music doesn’t start until after the kick and in cql the implication that it does is supposed to make jgy more evil but, a) the implication is weak as shit upon further examination (intentionally? no. but what they did was leave a lot of room for doubt about the whole sequence they present) and more importantly b) because of everything above, i actually think it’s fine and sexy and cool and progressive of jgy to start the evil music before the stairs, because it was clear before that that this was going in that direction, and what nmj puts him through despite everything jgy did for him is enough to drive most people to “ok die then” i think.

#untamed stuff #shameless jiggy apologism #every day i lose more respect for nie mingjue #probably going to spark some posts lamenting how show fans #just dont understand themes and literature #but like. all adaptations give you different versions of characters #because the nature of a character is that who they are in performance #is determined as much by who is playing them as by the text #and i don't think that #how close literally was this adaptation to the text #is the most interesting question when determining an adaptations worth #sorry #it's the shakespeare background what can i say it ruined me for fandom forever

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ilguna · 1 year

Text

☼ deadly pt4 (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you and Johanna join the star squad to invade the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, death mention

wc; 2k

part one, part two, part three.

–

“Do you have anything brighter?” You ask, face twisting at the sight of the flowers, “Or light? I was thinking white, pink, yellow…”

The clerk’s eye twitches, clearly done with you and your specific request that he’s been working on for the past thirty minutes. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s just throwing together shit to get you out of here faster.

“Miss, if you had preordered a bouquet—” He begins, impatience shining through.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes, “Yes, I know. You’d be able to meet my needs because you would’ve been able to order the flowers from a different district, and all that bullshit. I’ve heard it from the six other flower shops I’ve been to in the past week.”

He stares at you, probably deciding if this is worth it or not. He takes in a breath, “So why are you here, if you know that I don’t have what you need?”

“Because it’s urgent.” You tell him.

“Well, let’s hear it, then.” He crosses his arms.

“I don’t have time for that.” You shake your head.

He makes a face, tilting his head, “If your story’s good enough, I’ll pull the flowers from the other preordered bouquet’s, but I doubt you’ll be able to convince me.”

You let out a scoff, “All due respect, do you even know who I am?”

He looks you up and down, “Should I?”

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n), I’m a victor—was. I was a victor of the Hunger Games.” You begin, watching the wrinkles smooth from his face. The smug look is gone, “A few weeks ago it was the tenth anniversary of Johanna’s Games. And today marks ten years since Snow killed her entire family. I need flowers.”

“How many?” He asks, “How big are you thinking?”

“I have four tall and skinny vases, I can’t fit more than a few stems in each of them.”

He nods, turning around to leave the counter. You can’t help the small smile that crosses over your face. Finally, luck is on your side. You thought that you were going to be fucked. Of course, Johanna wouldn’t have known the difference if you didn’t show up with them, especially since you’ve got a load of other gifts that would take away from it.

You would know. She might not care, but you always have.

In the span of fifteen minutes, he’s able to put a bouquet together for you, helping you pick out the bright flowers, and telling you the meaning behind them. White lilies, pink carnations, white orchids, yellow tulips. He tells you why they’re important for the message you’re sending, but the gist is that they’re to offer support.

You compensate him greatly for the flowers, and the fact that they’re coming from other customers. He tells you to come back anytime you need, and to tell Johanna that he’s sorry for her loss. You wave goodbye, and then start the long journey back to your house in Victor’s Village to gather everything else you’ve bought in the past week.

You’ve had to throw together a gift basket—you can’t even call it that because half of what you’ve gotten wouldn’t even fit in a basket—at the last minute. You weren’t going to do this for her originally, since the two of you are still far from being friends. You might be neighbors, but that doesn’t mean you go out of your way to figure out what’s going on with her.

The details you do get about her are from people who don’t even live in District Seven, like Finnick. The two of them talk frequently enough that he knows way more about her than you do at this point. Which was upsetting at first, because you used to be the first person she would go to if she had something to say, and now you can’t even look her in the eye without feeling guilty.

However, it had been a few months since you last talked to Finnick. He’s dealing with his own kids and Annie, and you’re beginning to pick up more projects in Seven to feel useful. You can’t sit around for the rest of your life, as much as you wish your mind would let you.

Finnick sent you a letter a week ago, though. It was a couple pages long, and at first, it started with him telling you about what he’s been up to, and how Annie’s doing. He doesn’t bother with the Katniss updates anymore, considering she and Prim regularly keep up with you, as if you’re their own sister.

The more you continued to read, you began to realize that it wasn’t him trying to catch you up to speed with his life. It quickly transitioned into concern about Johanna and what she’s been up to. Apparently, she’s been expressing some concerning thoughts about herself and what she’s been through in the Capitol, knowing full well that Finnick can’t drop everything and save her. Even if he wanted to, he’s got other responsibilities now.

You almost sent back a letter telling him that it wasn’t your problem anymore. The day you broke up with Johanna was probably the best decision to make at that time. You’ll admit that you did regret doing it so harshly without thinking it through, but it took a lot of time to work through the anger that you felt towards her.

If the two of you had stayed together, you’re sure you would’ve ended up miserable.

You didn’t send Finnick the letter. Instead, you did some digging to find out why Johanna might be feeling this way, in the middle of summer, of all seasons. It’s the one time of year that she used to feel so bouncy and energetic during. She likes the heat, and being outside, and the breeze on her face. She’s all about being productive, so for her mood to take a twist like this was concerning for you, too.

When you found out that it was a couple of important anniversaries, you dropped all plans to organize this.

When you finally get back to your house, you have to find every bag of Johanna’s new belongings, pulling all of them onto your arms and carrying them next door. You knock on her front door a few times, waiting for her to answer it. After the fifth time, you realize that she’s not going to let you in.

You purse your lips, unhappy. You should’ve guessed that she wouldn’t answer the door if she’s feeling like this. You know how she feels about people showing up unannounced. Unfortunately, she’s going to have a bigger problem on her hands, because you’re not going home.

You do the irresponsible thing, and check to make sure her door is unlocked. It turns without issue, the door swings open slowly, letting out a creak because of the old hinges. You stand on the porch for another few seconds, staring into the abyss that’s Johanna’s home. You’re not sure how she navigates this place without any lights.

Either way, you step inside, leaving the door open for some light while you walk into her kitchen. Once every bag is on the counter and shows no threat of rolling off, you walk away. While heading to the front door, you open all the blinds, flipping open the locks and pushing up the windows to get some airflow through the house.

It doesn’t smell that bad, luckily, but the air is heavier.

You shut the front door, heading back into the kitchen. Before you can start with what you’ve planned, you go and clean the dishes in her sink, setting it on the drying rack when you’re done. Then, you rinse out the vases, cut the end of the stems of the flowers, fill the vases with water, and place the pre-arranged bouquets in each of the vases.

They smell beautiful.

You place one in front of the window in the kitchen, and place the last three in front of the windows in the living room, and one by the front door’s window sill. Immediately, the room feels lighter because of the color, and the fact that there’s flowers in here. You knew that there would be a difference.

Back in the kitchen, you pull out all of Johanna’s baking supplies, taking your time cleaning out the pie pan, the rolling pin, the whisk, and every other possible thing you’ll need. With still no sign of her, you go ahead and make the pie, place it in the oven, and clean the dishes.

While you wait for it to bake, you arrange the few baskets that you did buy, into categories. In the first one, you’ve got all of—what used to be—Johanna’s favorite bathroom products, at least when you knew her. Her favorite scented shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and shaving cream. You’ve got a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a set of bathroom rags and soft towels.

For the second basket, it’s things she’d want in her bedroom, like a whole new comforter set, and a few soft pillows to use. You also neatly fold clothes for the summer, stuffing them into the limited space you have. Shirts, shorts, jeans, tank tops, shoes, hats.

You move the baskets to the dining room table, which is right in front of the stairs. This is when you decide to move one of the vases onto the table, because it’ll look nicer than in front of the windows.

The timer goes off for the pie, so you return back to the kitchen to pull it out of the oven to cool. While you wait, you make the lemonade into a pitcher, and bring two glasses to the table, setting them down. Finally, you make the cold-cut sandwiches, placing them neatly onto a tray, alongside some fresh fruit and vegetables that you got today from the market.

And tonight, when it’s time for dinner, you’ll make her the same meal her mom used to make her on her birthdays.

When you come back into the dining room to set the food onto the table, you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Johanna standing on the stairs. You don’t look at her until the food is on the table.

Her lips are pressed together, eyebrows drawn in. You think she’s scowling at you at first, because she has all the reason to. You haven’t spoken to her in months, broke into her house, opened her blinds, and made food for yourself and her, and you didn’t even ask ahead of time.

Johanna’s hair has grown out since the last time you saw her. Ever since her time in the Capitol, she’s kept her hair pretty short, not wanting to grow it out any further. Now, it seems that it’s grown to the same length it was before the Quarter Quell. The only thing she’s missing is the dyed streak.

You watch as her bottom lip juts out suddenly, her eyes fluttering. She covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. You can see the tears begin to run down her face.

You start walking to her, arms out, “Come here, Johanna.”

She doesn’t argue, coming down the last couple of steps. You wrap your arms around her tightly, letting her sob into your shoulder. You can feel her tears on your skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, placing a hand on the back of her head, “You know I would’ve been there for you.”

“I was scared.” She admits through tears, “I didn’t want you to send me away.”

“I’m here for you, Johanna.” You lean your head against her, “The last thing I want is to lose you, even if we’re not talking.

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missmilkie · 4 months

Text

My Hero Academia Bf Scenarios

Meeting Again

Sorry about how short this is. I’ve been experiencing hella writer’s block.

2k words

Izuku Midoriya

You saw Deku the following afternoon. He was busy with his hero work all morning before he got the chance to check on your designs.

“Sorry I couldn’t check in with you sooner.” The green haired giant told you with and apologetic expression.

“It’s alright. It gave me time to make a list of possible materials for you to choose from.” You held up a piece of notebook paper with said list.

“That’s very thorough, thank you.”

Deku went through the list, asking questions and discussing the options with you. You explained everything the best you could and were patient with his endless questions.

He ended up paying for dinner to be delivered to the agency. You were asked what you would like, but you weren’t sure what to pick.

“Do you like (insert food)? I know a place that makes the best (insert food).” He had asked after a moment of thought.

“Okay, let’s do that then.”

“Great, I’ll pull up the menu on my phone.”

An assistant brought the food up to where you were working. The two of you ate and continued to talk. The atmosphere was light, and you almost forgot that you were hired by him. It would be a shame when you were done, you probably wouldn’t see him until his next commission. If he liked your work in the first place. Something about him seemed so genuine, so you think he liked you enough.

“Have a good night, (L/n)!” Deku waved to you as you climbed into the car he called to take you home.

“You too, Midoriya!” You let yourself grin at him unrestrained.

Katsuki Bakugo

The next day you were at the agency bright and early for some training. The top sidekicks gave you the rundown of how things worked in their training sessions. You were allowed to wear gym clothes instead of costumes unless you were specifically told not to.

You stepped out of the locker room in a sports bra that looked more like a cropped tank top and some joggers. Your hair was up and out of your face, and you wore your favorite trainers.

“Hey, (L/n)! You’re with me today.” A tall woman who was thick and muscular called out to you.

You made your way across the room to her.

“The name’s Megan Taneuma. Hero name: Thee Stallion!”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Right back at ya. Let’s get into it now.” Megan took a defensive stance against you. “Show me what you’re made of, rookie!”

You teleported to her side and roundhouse kicked at her. She caught you by the shin and threw you. Strength based quirk. You tried to remember what her quirk was. She was a rising star and very popular due to her sexuality and body.

Before you could hit the ground, you teleported above her to drop down and put her in a chokehold. Megan ripped you off of her and punched you, sending you flying. You teleported again, this time to send a full force kick to the back of one of her knees. As she began to fall backwards you teleported again to slam her into the ground with your elbow.

“Not bad.” She smirked.

You teleported away to avoid getting hit by her. You didn’t realize that someone was standing in that spot though. You bumped into what felt like a wall. Turning around, you saw Dynamight.

“Watch where you teleport, (L/n).” He released you from his grip so you could stand on your own.

“Sorry!” You called out before teleporting away. How embarrassing!

Shoto Todoroki

A week later you ran into each other during a fight. Your car was driving you to a high profile mall for some shopping. A villain was loose and intercepted your route. Your car flipped over, and you saw your life flash before your eyes. A sharp pain blossomed on your head before you lost consciousness.

You vaguely remember being pulled out through a window. The hand that grabbed you was so cold. Someone carried you bridal style. Your head leaned against a warm chest. He said something. Yes, he. A man carried you. You tried to figure out what he was saying, but your ears were still ringing.

“Can you open your eyes? Stay awake.” A familiar voice. Where from though?

Your eyes fluttered open to catch sight of a scarred face. Shoto?

“What happened?” You mumbled before crying out at feeling the pain in your head.

“Your car got flipped by a villain.” He set you down, propping you up on a bench. “Where does it hurt?”

“Here.” You pointed to the spot on your head emitting a terrible pain. Your hair felt so heavy. Why did your scalp feel so gross? You brought a hand up to tentatively touch the area. Your fingers were coated in blood.

“Careful. Paramedics will have a hard time getting here. Can you stay awake for me until then?” He looked you in your eyes with his two mismatched ones.

You weren’t sure if you could. It hurt so bad that it was making you nauseous. Your head was spinning. You retched, puking your lunch all over yourself and Shoto.

“Sorry.” Tears streamed down your face from the burning in your head and throat.

“It’s okay. We’ll get you cleaned up as soon as possible.” The hero cleaned around the wound with cotton balls. “Talk to me.”

“I…don’t know…what to say…” you swayed for a moment, Shoto catching you and protecting your head.

“Where were you headed?” He unraveled bandages with one arm.

“The mall.” You let your eyes drift to his handsome face.

“Were you shopping for something specific?”

“I needed a swimsuit for a pool party.” You remembered. A bunch of other celebrities would be there.

“Very good, you remember.” Shoto recalled you mentioning the party over text. “What color do you want?”

“(Fav color).”

“That would look great on you.” Shoto gave a small smile as he finished wrapping your head. Just then the paramedics arrived. Shoto left you in their hands.

Eijiro Kirishima

You didn’t think you’d run into Red Riot so soon. You ended up seeing him a few days later, not too far from where you first met. He was hyping up his sidekicks very loudly across the street.

“Hey, Red!” You called out. “Miss me?”

He whipped around, his grin widening as his eyes landed on you.

“(H/n)! Didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

You used your flames to fly over the street and meet him.

“I’m thinking next time it should be on purpose.”

“Sounds fun. We should spar or something.” Red Riot suggested eagerly.

“Good idea. I’ll give you my card.” You fished in your pocket for a card with your hero name and number on it. These were for other heroes in case they wanted to team up with you.

“Thanks! I’ll be in touch.”

When you joined your sidekicks where you left them, they were all suspiciously smiling.

“What?”

“Nothing…” one put their hands up in surrender.

“We had no idea our boss had W Rizz!!” The extremely extroverted one with no filter exclaimed.

“Shut the hell up.”

Denki Kaminari

At his next press conference, he caught sight of you in the crowd. You were put together just like the last time he saw you. Hair pulled back professionally and dressed for success. You made direct eye contact with him before he was bombarded by questions. Did he just wink at you?

Chargebolt anticipated your questions, shivering at the memory of your power over him. He gave distracted answers as he was thrown off his game by your unwavering stare. The pencil on your notepad scribbled without faltering even though you weren’t looking.

“How will the inductions of new sidekicks affect your current teams?” You asked finally.

He felt your voice seep into his head, compelling him to tell you what you wanted to know.

“Cellophane and I have some sidekicks that don’t quite get along, but we’ll whip them into shape. Heroes have to be able to cooperate with each other.”

“And these sidekicks have had conflicts in battle before, right?”

“Yes, but we’ve been taking disciplinary action and enforcing team building to combat this.” The blind answered you clearly. You smiled as someone else took their turn.

Tenya Iida

The next day you were at your desk promptly. You still had some things to organize before you continued with managing the chaos that was Ingenium’s work life. A door opened but you paid it no mind as you went about your business.

“(L/n), what time is my meeting with Uravity?”

You looked up to see your boss in his suit without the armor. It wasn’t zipped up all the way, so you caught sight of his exposed chest. A blush blazed across your face as you averted your eyes.

“11 o clock, sir.”

“Thank you.” With that he retreated into his office.

When his door shut, you let out a breath that you had been unaware that you were holding. Why was your boss so fine?! You could already tell that he was buff, but that suit just accentuated everything! How were you going to work and function normally when you were lowkey attracted to your boss?

Deep breaths. You can manage this. Don’t let anything show and just do your work. Organizing his schedule would keep your mind occupied enough, right?

Hanta Sero

That weekend the two of you went out for coffee in the morning. The cafe was calming and quiet, somewhat private from the chaos of the world outside. The food and coffee was delicious too.

“So what got you into modeling? I don’t see a lot of pros in this business.” You asked, stirring your coffee.

“Believe it or not, I’m really into fashion. I’ve seen some popular female pros model, so I figured why not me? It’s fun and I get to meet people outside of the circle of heroes.” He thought for a moment. “It’s refreshing to meet people like you.”

“I imagine modeling is very tame compared to what you normally do.”

“Very much so. I love being a hero though, it’s been my dream since childhood.”

“Is it all you dreamed it would be?” You looked at him in his deep dark eyes.

“Yes and no.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I get to fight criminals and save people, but I have to do a lot of paperwork and being in charge of sidekicks is tough. Plus, injuries are no joke. I'm still scarred even with treatment from some of the best healing quirks.”

“Physically and mentally?”

“Yes. Sometimes you see things on the job that make you sick to your stomach. Some people suffer from nightmares and ptsd. It’s part of the job though, the sacrifice.”

“Romanticizing your suffering doesn’t make it right.” You said calmly, a gentle look in your eyes.

“It’s worth it.” He held your gaze, a smile breaking out onto his face.

Hitoshi Shinso

Shinso stumbled back into your office a few nights later. His arm was worse.

“What did I tell you?!” You helped him out of his shirt. He winced when you moved his arm.

“I tried, but I still got bills to pay, sweetheart.” He hissed at the rag you used to clean his bloody arm.

“Keep this up and you’ll have hella hospital bills too.”

“But seriously. I was easy on it all night. Then a villain got a lucky shot on me.”

“I’m gonna use my quirk to speed along the process.” You popped out a five hour energy drink and took it like a shot. Fingers ghosting over his wound, you focused.

A green glow began surrounding your hand. You felt your mind reach deep enough, small enough to sense the individual cells. Starting at the deepest part, you began transferring energy into them. The current rushing through sped up the production of new cells. You could feel him rebuilding.

“You’re so…warm.” Shinso mumbled, delirious. This was a side effect of your quirk.

Once you healed him about 70%, you stopped. He was bandaged up again, and you guided him to lay down on the bed.

“Rest, Shinso.” You whispered as you covered him in a blanket.

#my hero academia #x reader #boyfriend scenarios #fem reader #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #shoto todoroki #eijiro kirishima #denki kaminari #tenya iida #hanta sero #hitoshi shinsou

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