#but that 'fuck you' sounded way to hateful and personal for him to just be being his usual trolling self

[ilovejoostklein]

can I requestt some soft morning sex with Joost and it being just rlly sweet and cosy and like reade and joost have been together for a while now and some praise maybe if you're comfortable w that ofc 🥹

this was really fun to write, i hope you get the cozy vibe <3

-

Morning Embrace

You and Joost have been together for years and have an intimate morning routine

nsfw: smut, some fluff

-

You always hated when Joost had to leave, looking up at him through a half-lidded gaze your mind tended to wander to things that made you feel bad in this moment, as if it was a way to mend your sadness. 

He held your hands as you felt his cock resting on your lower stomach, teasing you, looking up at his face you saw how tired, yet desperate he was. It was like a dream, the weight of sleep making you lazy, your motions slow and fluid, but everything felt so much more intense. 

The sunlight made the room and Joost looks heavenly. You’d been in love with him for what felt like a lifetime. Joost was an angelic man, his features as if they were carved by Renaissance artists, the most beautiful and dedicated expression of the human form. You could look up at him forever, and when he was like this especially. His flushed cheeks, and parted red lips showered you with so much praise it felt poetic.

He’d repeat over and over again how perfect you were. You always laughed it off when his friends said you had him on a leash, but moments like these proved to you that he loved and cherished you to a level you could hardly fathom. As he pushed himself inside of you, his face contorted into pleasure, crying out how much he loved you, how good you felt, how good you made him feel. 

“I love you so much,” His voice was pathetic, kissing your neck desperately as he tried to find a good pace that wouldn’t be affected by his lack of energy. “You’re so fucking perfect, I’d die for you—fuck.”

“I love you, Joost.” You responded with a yawn, the sensation so perfect it relaxed you. 

You wrapped your legs around him, feeling the warm, heavy comforter weighing you down. He slept naked so he was always cold, and fucked you with the blanket over his waist. He couldn’t ever take you from behind or any other position besides missionary unless he was drunk or just had an inclination to be rougher, which was rare. His obsession with you was bordering unhealthy. He couldn’t get off unless he could see your face, he’d never loved anyone the way he loved you. 

“You’re so beautiful, mijn liefde.” He moved the hair out of your face lovingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I could fuck you forever.” He whispered into your ear. 

You smiled in response, “Me too.” You kissed his cheek back in return. “Love you.” 

Joost never overwhelmed you, he never pushed you beyond your limits. Even if he knew your body like the back of his hand, knowing exactly how to make a mess of you, he was incredibly gentle. Making love to him in the morning was better than anything you’d ever experienced, the feeling of waking up next to the person you loved and being able to feel so good all the time was indescribable. You pitied people who weren’t so lucky. 

Joost knew you too well, the sounds you made were controlled and soft he wasn’t fucking you as well as he could. You felt him readjust slightly, the realization making your cheeks burn and waking you up a bit. You felt him plunge into you with one quick, deep motion slamming into the most sensitive spot inside of you. You had gotten your karma for thinking he sounded pathetic, crying out in pleasure and begging for him to keep going. 

“Please, Joost.” You pleaded, unable to open your eyes from how overwhelmed you’d become “Feels so good.”

You heard him laugh, satisfied with how your body had sure denied himself to him. The look on your face was driving him mad, his pace deepened and became harsher. The feeling made you lose all train of thought, your body becoming a vessel to feel pleasure alone, shutting your eyes to take it all in. It sends a numbing feeling through you, you could do nothing but moan his name to encourage him. 

“Can I stop?” He asked suddenly, the sight of your blissful expression and the way your chest moved had driven him to the point of insanity. 

“What?” He’d never seen you look so confused and offended, it was cute. “No, please,” You thought he would leave you early, the realization crushing you. 

“I need to eat your pussy.” His directness made you hesitate for a moment, but god it was flattering. 

Joost felt his pleasure and excitement burn out once he realized he’d be getting off before you. It was difficult to make you finish by just fucking you alone, especially if he knew your body was as tired and sensitive as it was now. Besides, there was nothing he loved more than going down on you. 

He pulled out slowly, going under the covers he pushed your legs open and didn’t waste any time with foreplay. He was greedy and impatient, he hardly bothered with kissing your thighs and your stomach. As much as he liked to tease you, it was always more torturous for him. He couldn’t stand to deny himself, and he knew you could go without it. 

His tongue was so warm against you. You shivered at the initial feeling, the beginning is always just as good as the end. You let him spread your legs so that your knees nearly touched your chest. His tongue was flat against your pussy, completely devouring you as he focused on your clit determined to help bring you to your climax, instead of making you beg for it. All this time spent apart, you’d forgotten how passionate your boyfriend was. 

You felt selfish. Joost was perfect, you didn’t remember a time when he couldn’t make you finish, but even more selflessly you didn’t remember a time when he wanted to finish before you. Somehow it would spoil his mood if he didn’t take care of you first, even if you begged for him to fuck you or to let you give him head, he refused.

You felt yourself grinding down desperately on Joost’s face. You were chasing your orgasm in vain, trying to rush the natural process it only made you increasingly frustrated and needy. Joost noticed quickly, as always he knew you too well, and he hated to feel like he wasn’t giving you enough. 

“You wanna cum baby?” Joost’s voice was raspy, and still a bit groggy, the sound of it turned you on more than it should’ve. “Tell me, my beautiful girl.”

You hummed, “Mhm.” Just as desperately as he expected.

You heard him chuckle from under the sheets, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll help you, don’t worry mijn lieveling.”

You felt his fingers begin to rub against you, it was like he could read your mind and knew how much you were thinking about him fucking you again. His touch was teasing at first, experimenting with what made you feel good, realizing quickly from the way you tried to move against him, that you just needed to be filled up again. You didn’t realize how wet you were until he pushed two fingers inside of you, from the way you took them so well. 

His soft lips pressed down on your clit as his fingers pumped inside of you at a steady pace, he was giving you exactly what you needed. He loved the sounds you made, how every time his fingers nudged into the most sensitive spot inside you, he heard you moan or curse under your breath. It didn’t help him that you still sounded so tired, the rasp in your voice and how you lazily and gently tugged his hair. 

When he felt your grip on his hair suddenly tighten, and you suddenly gasped and then fell silent for a moment he knew you were close. Being together so long, he knew how to make you finish rather quickly if he wanted to. His jaw didn’t have time to start aching like it did in the very beginning when you two were still learning about each other. Whenever he felt like he missed it, the look on your face and the way you’d praise him completely drowned out those memories. 

“You’re so fucking good.” Your voice was so weak it was almost silent, still in a bit of a daze from feeling so sensitive and vulnerable. 

Joost finally sat up, smoothing down his hair and looking down at you. He was overwhelmed with your beauty. As much as he was excited to spend the night with you after his concert and seeing you all dressed up, he couldn’t help but think seeing you naked and glowing in his bed was the most beautiful you could ever look. 

As he positioned himself on top of you again, the way you looked up at him with so much adoration and desire made his heart squeeze. He smoothed down his thumb against your cheek before leaning down to kiss you sweetly as he lined himself up with his other hand. 

You’d never quite gotten used to his size, the stretch was always a bit uncomfortable but Joost was overly cautious. Whenever you needed him this desperately, the way he’d push into you so slowly almost felt cruel. You huffed in frustration, wrapping your legs around him to encourage him to be quicker. 

“Relax.” He urged, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It’s not.” You felt him thrust suddenly, instinctively wincing and proving his point.

Joost tsked, “I told you.” You heard a hint of satisfaction in his tone, “I know you can take it, just stay still my love.”

You sighed in defeat, listening to him you soon felt him bottom you out again, giving you a moment to adjust. He started thrusting slowly, his pace as excruciating as before you couldn’t stand it. 

Joost paused for a moment, leaning down again he lowered his elbows so that he was directly on top of you, chests pressing together. 

“I love you,” He whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss into your chin. “I love fucking you like this.”

“I love you too.” You mumbled so he’d get the affirmation, no matter how long you’d been together he had to hear it. 

“You’re so perfect.” He whispered again, “I can’t believe I have you.”

It was slow, deep, everything perfect about being so desperate to fuck each other the moment you two woke up. He held you in his arms, the sunlight now drowned out the room and warmed your exposed skin. The blanket was still so warm and cozy, keeping you two even closer together. 

You brought him into an embrace as his face was nuzzled in your neck, whispering praises and kissing you. You couldn’t imagine anything better than this. You tried to tell him you loved him for what felt like the hundredth time, but you were too overcome with how good he made you feel. It was as if your bodies were made exactly for one another. 

“I’m close.” Joost mumbled, “Where do you want it, mijn lieveling” You could hear he was just as ruined as you were, the words forcibly coming out.

“Don’t move.” The vague response that he easily understood was the only thing you could get out. 

You appreciated when Joost would tell you if he was close, but you knew him so well that his body language always gave him away. His breaths hitch and deepen, he’d thrust into you at a pace that was erratic, deep, and so loving even if it overwhelmed you it made how much he adored and worshiped you undeniable. Once his movements suddenly stopped and he whined against your neck, teeth sinking gently into the flesh of your shoulder. 

Even if it was messy and later more trouble than it seemed worth when your mind cleared up from lust, you never wanted to deny yourself of this. It brought you closer, knowing you were his, knowing that no one else in the world could make you feel so loved. 

Joost panted against you, pressing lazy kisses against your face as he softened inside of you.  As he dozed off, he couldn’t stop telling you how good you were, how lucky he was and how much he adored you. Still, he needed to take a moment to calm down as he held you close and this was his favorite way to do it. The intimacy you shared was like you were always one, nothing could bring you apart. 

You wished the moment could last forever. Tenderly holding each other, your hand rubbing on his back to soothe him, his thumb caressing your cheek. Your breathing was perfectly in sync, calming each other down from the intensity. All you could hear now were the sweet morning birds and Joost’s heartbeat. 

You couldn’t feel sad, looking back it’s been like this for so long and only was getting better. You saw his eyes had fluttered shut, his breathing settled. You held him closer, you couldn’t be happier knowing that all your mornings could be like this. 

-

doesn’t he look so boyfriend in that picture

[messylxve]

old flame | aaron hotchner x reader

part two

content warning: angst, yearning, sad hotch, tension is THICC, mentions of abduction, guns, pregnant character, angry cops

pt1

Aaron still thinks about you most days. There was not much he clung onto from his years before, but you were one of the few he couldn’t let go of.

He supposed it was because you were one of the few things he never got closure for. You had just disappeared one day, completely untraceable as if you never wanted to be seen by him again.

And he didn’t know why.

It was a rather quiet day in the BAU. Morgan and Prentiss goofed off while Reid rambled on about…something. Aaron stuck it out in his office per usual.

He should have been doing paperwork, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It wandered to the picture in his wallet. He gazed at it sadly, wondering when it all went wrong.

The picture was of you and him: a selfie taken on a camera from when the two of you went to a store late at night and decided to cart each other around in the shopping carts.

Strange how some of the happy memories he had left, were of you.

“Hotch.”

He flipped his wallet shut, his attention now on JJ as she stood at the doorway of his office. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “What do you have?”

“Multiple abductions in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Two girls, a woman, and a boy. All ranging in ages, but all related to officers under the police force.”

“What’s the time difference between each?”

JJ shook her head, flipping through one of the folders. “Three days.”

Hotch quickly pocketed his wallet and stood from his desk. “We’ll do the debriefing on the jet, alert the others. Wheels up in 10.”

To say it was chaos in Harrisburg Police precinct was an understatement. Phones rang endlessly, people rushed around and the sound of arguing echoed from the chief’s office.

“It's not usually like this,” one officer greeted. “This has become personal for a few of us and they aren't taking it lightly.”

Hotch scanned over the precinct, the uneasiness in the air radiating out to his team. “I suggest you take those officers off the case. We can't afford any distractions from anyone to interfere with this.”

“That's what were working on,” he nodded over to the office where four uniformed individuals crowded around a desk. “They aren't making it easy.”

Hotch’s frown deepened before looking around. “Do you have a space for my team to set up?”

“Yes, right this way,” he motioned for the group to follow him before turning back to Hotch. “Chief wants you in her office before we begin breaking things down.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch didn't know why he didn’t suspect something when he heard the shouting the first time. Walking closer, he realized he knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted him for years.

“Do not question my authority again. The four of you are suspended from this case. If I hear another complaint, argument or so much of a whisper about my decision your guns will be confiscated until the case is closed. Am I clear?”

Aaron’s heart stuttered. His hand found the doorframe to grip as he watched in awe.

A small chorus of ‘yes chief’ followed your reprimand from all but one officer.

“Am. I. Clear. Smith?”

The man grit his teeth, staring you dead in the eye. “Yes chief.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Each officer left the room, leaving the two of you alone and suddenly you felt like kids all over again.

“Aaron.”

“y/n,” he breathed out. “I didn’t know—,”

“Neither did I,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You felt your defenses slip away for the first time in a long time in his presence. You hated to admit it but it felt good. Seeing him again despite all of the years away.

But that look in his eyes, the pain and heartbreak. It took you right back to the day you fucked up.

It was almost as a spell was casted, Aaron saw your walls form again.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms. “There are only so many officers I can have on the field for this, so I thank you and your team for being here.”

“I- of course.”

Aaron had never felt so unsure during a case.

“Agent Smith says he was on the phone with her right before it happened and she hung up quickly,” you mused, standing in the front entryway of the Smith home with Hotch and Morgan. “Jessica Smith was 8 months pregnant when taken…”

“Which means she couldn’t have put up much of a fight,” Hotch finished your thoughts. Your eyes found his for just a moment and your heart stuttered in its chest. Had it been so many years ago, the two of you would have laughed about it, or shouted jinx, but not anymore.

“But she still would have put up some semblance of a struggle. She didn’t fight at all.” You cleared your throat.

Morgan looked oddly between the two of you, crossing his arms. “Right, so is it possible the unsub had a weapon. Threatened her to let him in.”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t think so, the unsub had to be someone she trusted.”

“But didn’t want around the kids,” you muttered, eyes staring down the entryway.

Morgan furrowed his brows. “What makes you say that.”

Your eyes flickered up to Hotch, that’s where they wanted to go, but you trained them on Morgan instead. “The other kids were home, would’ve ran to the door to see who might be there.”

Hotch watches you carefully as you walk over to the door, your gloved hand closing it. “Mom makes it to the door first, sees the unsub through the peephole and recognizes him, but thinks it might not be a good idea for the husband to know he was there.”

You turn away from the door, facing the men. “She hangs up the phone abruptly, tells the kids to go play and leaves her phone right here on the table before opening up the door.”

You open the door slowly and step outside, noting the mud on the welcome mat leading to the the first few feet of the house.

“The mud from the prints match the ones at the other scenes, but they don’t run through the house…they stop here.”

“She didnt want him far into the house at all,” Hotch finished off again.

“So that means the unsub is someone each family knows and Jessica recognizes, but is a sore subject, not wanting her husband to know he was there,” Morgan theorizes.

“Someone who was fired or discharged,” you realized.

Hotch furrowed his brows. “Have you recently let go of officers.”

You nodded your head. “A few. But there’s no way to go through files like that without getting unneeded attention from other officers.”

Hotch turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia, tell her—,”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I have direct files saved to my personal computer. It’ll be faster.”

Hotch eyes stayed on you, contemplating his choices.

“Morgan, get back to the precinct, update the others. l/n and I will retrieve the files.”

The car ride was…awkward to say the least.

Hotch had a million things he wanted to say, he needed to say. But somewhere between his heart and his voice, it died upon delivery.

“Spit it out,” you blurted out suddenly, forcing his attention to you.

“What?”

“You’re twiddling your thumbs and biting the inside of your cheek. Every time you look at me you take this gasp of air. What do you want to tell me?”

So many years had passed and yet you could still read him like the back of your hand.

“That was impressive back there…” he swallowed hard. “You’d make a good profil—,”

“Please don’t tell me you cooked up all of your guts just to tell me I’d be a good profiler,” you laughed.

It sounded harsh, but there was something in your tone that eased Aaron’s heart. He laughed too for the first time in a long time.

“No I guess not.”

However just as easily as the moment eased up, it easily tensed back into that painful silence.

“Why did you leave,” he blurted out finally.

Your smile dissolved so quickly, it pained Aaron to be the reason it was even there.

“I got an offer from UPenn. Full ride.”

Aaron frowned. “Congratulations.” It was genuine, despite how hollow his voice sounded. “But that’s not the real reason is it.”

Your voice suddenly felt very raw as you attempted to swallow back your emotions, but just as quickly as they left, it came back. “No…”

“Why—,”

“Because,” you burst out. “After that night, when you begged me to…” you couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. “…what we did…I couldn’t go back to what we were. It hurt too much to. I was ready to tell you everything when I saw you again but…you and Haley. She… I couldn’t do that to her.”

You were bearing your emotions out, on the verge of tears releasing every pent up emotion since that night and Aaron never felt more stupid in his life.

They had finally come at a red light when Aaron spoke up. “What night? What did I…what did I ask you to do?”

He was terrified of your answer.

But you. Everything in you stopped. Your heart, your brain, even your breath. Everything was so silent when you turned your head and finally looked him in the eye for the first time in ages.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “No.”

No

No

No

His single word reverberated through your bones, sinking deep into your soul. What do you mean no?

You turned to the road, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips. “You don’t even remember.”

“y/n,” Aaron called your name with such desperation. “Please.”

You looked back at him, hearing that tone in his voice. Suddenly you were taken back to that night. Between the pleas in his voice and that depressingly sad look in his eyes, he looked just the way he did all those nights ago.

God how long is this light?

“You were drunk. Haley accused you of being in love with me. You begged me to kiss you to prove it was a lie.”

His heart squeezed in his chest and his lungs felt as if it was wrapped in barbed wire. It hurt.

“Did I?”

Your eyes flickered over to him for just a millisecond.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

part three coming soon!!

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter

[gwilymz]

Crawling After You (Patrick Zweig x Reader)

includes: mutual pining, friends to lovers, secret relationship

Patrick was your best friend in the whole world since childhood. You both went to tennis camps together and then to boarding school. Your parents are best friends, and they all thought your friendship would fizzle out by the time you hit puberty, but you stayed close.

And both of you would be in your own respective relationships that would inevitably fizzle out when your partners couldn’t get past your closeness. The bona fide twinkle in your eyes when you saw each other, even when it had only been a day or two.

Your friends all have crushes on him; they giggle and twirl their hair at his matches. They say they’re there for you, but you see how they blush when Patrick grunts, when he peels his shirt off and throws his battered racket against the pavement.

“You’ve never thought about fucking him?” Your friend asked you after your match. You were pissed about losing; Patrick was in your peripheral, beaming with his own friends about his big win against an NCAA favorite from UCLA.

“No.” You took a gulp of water, shaking your head. “I haven’t.”

“Do you think he thinks of fucking you?” Another friend butted in. “I mean, how can you resist that?”

You repeated yourself. “No.” Another sip of water, to help you hold your tongue. You weren’t in a good mood. “Patrick does not need help in the dating department, I know he doesn’t think of me that way. We are friends and that’s it.”

Except, since last summer, you had been fucking. A lot. The problem was that you and Patrick hated being told, “I told you so.”

And every single person you had crossed paths with, from middle school teachers, to tennis coaches, to acquaintances in your class were convinced you and Patrick would inevitably end up together. The story was too picturesque, your interests too aligned.

So you kept it a secret. You kept your chin high when girls fawned over Patrick, and he bit the inside of his cheek when boys whistled as you entered the court.

Last summer, Patrick and you got in a huge fight. You had never fought before; your friendship was uncomplicated. Neither of you ever directly competed against the other in tennis, you had almost everything in common. But after a team dinner one night in July, he and you were seething.

“Oh my god, Patrick.” You shoved his chest, annoyed that he barely moved from the force. You were in the parking lot, leaning against his expensive Jeep, a gift from his parents. “All you do is talk about the most shallow, meaningless fucking things.”

It started after he began to complain about your piqued interest in politics. You had always been well-read, but as Patrick said, “You just don’t need to talk about it all the fucking time.”

“What the fuck do I talk about that’s shallow? Tennis? Because last time I checked we both do that.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t fucking shove me.”

You mocked him. You knew that was his biggest pet peeve. “You’re mad because I care about what’s happening in the world? Do you hear yourself?”

“I’m mad because you sound like a piece of shit politician, and your fucking personality changes as soon as you start talking to a new guy. And you’re becoming so fucking pretentious since you started hanging out with that fucking douchebag Vincent.”

You scoffed. “I find it funny you call me pretentious when you grew up in a fucking castle. Ironic coming from a kid who had escargot and caviar served to him on a platter at age 6.”

“What are you even talking about? You’re just saying shit that doesn’t even make sense because you know I’m right!”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “I don’t change my personality. I’m not even talking to anyone right now, and if I were, why does that even concern you?”

“Oh okay.” Patrick nudged you to move you away from the driver’s side door, letting himself in. “Get in, it’s about to rain.”

“No. What were you gonna say?”

He yelled your name. “I don’t want to get drenched. Just fucking get in!”

You crossed your arms. He was right, the wind was picking up, goosebumps peppered your arms all over and your hair blew into your face.

“Fine, then don’t.” He got into the car and started it. The headlights hurt your head and burned saucers into your retinas.

The rain began slow; fat droplets splashed against the curb and dribbled down your cheeks. And then it was faster, and the wind grew stronger, and you stood your ground. Patrick watched you, he watched your gray Stanford shirt get soaked, and your tennis skirt become plastered to your legs. Your hair was flush against your cheeks, eyelids heavy.

“Fucking get in the car.” He wasn’t yelling anymore. His shoulders were slumped, and you know he felt defeated as he got out of the car.

“Why don’t you tell me anything?” You started to cry. You didn’t know where this was coming from; this tantrum.

Patrick was soaked too. “I do tell you things!”

“Not as much.”

“It’s hard. It was easier when we were kids.”

“But what changed?” The engine grew louder, almost crescendoing in your ears.

"We aren't kids anymore. Everyone is always asking about me and you. There's no such thing as our innocent little friendship."

His words broke your heart. And he saw that as your shoulders slumped and your eyes welled with tears. "So what?" You asked. "What are you saying?"

Patrick sighed, pushing his wet hair away from his face. His white t-shirt was see-through, his broad shoulders rippling as the wind tore against his lean body. His voice was soft now. "Let's go back to the hotel. Stay in my room and we can talk."

The ride to the hotel was silent. Usually, Patrick would complain about water all over his leather seats, but he didn't say a word, and you wondered why, out of all the heartbreaks you had been through, why this conversation had chewed you up and spit you out so violently.

You sat on the bed with him and waited for him to speak first.

"Do you need a towel?"

You shook your head.

"What I was saying before," He began. "Why do we act like it's normal that in each of our relationships, the common denominator is that we are way too close?"

"We've never-"

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just saying maybe this friendship isn't really serving us anymore, and maybe it's causing more harm than good."

"You know what?" You stood up, grabbing your bag. "I've sat here and been your best fucking friend for twenty years, and now you're just taking the easy way out like you always do." You slung it over your shoulder. "I'll leave. Don't worry, I'll leave."

You wanted him to chase you down. He didn't. He didn't say bye or that he was sorry. One big fight during twenty years of friendship, and it would seemingly be your last.

The tournament was going on for another 3 days. After 2 nights of barely sleeping and going through the motions, of leaving the court whenever a mens' match was on, there was a knock on your door. You let him in; of course you did.

"I wasn't telling you I didn't want to be friends anymore." He whispered. Your back was against the door.

"Okay."

His finger trailed from the dip of your collarbones to your chin. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallowed, loudly, looking up at him inquisitively, waiting for him to finish his thought.

He fucked you with your legs over his shoulders, while your roommate was at lunch with the rest of the team. Patrick muffled your moans by spilling his own into your mouth. Sweat dribbled off his chest and your nails raked down his back as he thrust into you, over and over and over again. Twenty years of reserved angst and repressed feelings manifested in desperate whimpers and the sound of skin on skin echoing off the chipped taupe walls.

No words, at that moment, needed to be said. He was yin and you were yang. Your friendship began and ended where your bodies met. And it would never be the same.

He told you he loved you after he came, and you reciprocated those feelings. Something was so thrilling about the secret, though. Of people gossiping and speculating about the two of you. Of you both feigning disgust at the idea of fucking your best friend, only to ride him in the back of his car until the windows fogged up, and his chest was red and raw from your desperate scratches.

You loved the thrill. One whole year of sneaking around and nobody had a clue.

One year of pretending to get sick at parties, so Patrick would follow you into the bathroom and eat you out on the bathroom sink until your legs shook, raw from his stubble.

One year of Patrick tugging on the collar of his shirt during a match to signal he wanted you waiting in his car for him afterward. If he won, he made love to you slowly, rocking his hips, so his cock went deep, deep inside. When he lost, he spat on you, and left bruises on your ass that stung the next week as you sat on the metal bleachers.

It was hard to fit twenty years of love and pining into that one year without it bubbling over. At graduation, you and your friends threw your caps into the air and Patrick kissed you. Hands on your waist, tongue in your mouth.

The team gasped. They hadn't known your secret for the past year. But they did know it was only a matter of time.

[darylbae]

would you write smth for daryl x reader where reader had to fight her way out of one of the outposts and can’t stop scrubbing her hands. to the point where the skin is really sore. maybe he kisses the tops of her hands. washing them one more time at her ask. but gently with warm soapy water. maybe he puts cream on them and wraps them in a bandage.

what if it gets worse — daryl dixon🩰

in which you can't seem to get the blood off your hands, but daryl is there to help

note: i hope this is what you meant anon

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

This felt too far. Even for you. You had killed too many walkers to count, you weren't the sweetest like Beth once was, you could drive straight past a helpless man. But the plan you were currently driving to execute, was too far for you. You sat with your hands in your lap, trying to stop them from trembling. You were tough, everyone knew it, you knew it. But this felt like you were driving to your death. There was no coming back from this. The RV you were driving in was dark, the air was unsettling, nobody would talk above a whisper. Turn back, Abe. Please. Realize this is a mistake. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Daryl, who laced his fingers around yours. The two of you had always been on the same frequency, it's why you bonded as close as you were. You were the same person in different fonts, but you differed where it mattered. Daryl could feel you were in your own head. He wanted this matter dealt with, he wanted to go back to pretending to hate Alexandria. He wanted his only problem to be fitting in. Not this. You felt a war looming, a deep, dark black hole about to suck you in. Something bad was going to happen. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. "Hey," his voice was small, only for you to hear, "you're okay." He brought your hand up to his mouth, peppering small kisses to your knuckles, which were turning white with your grip on his hand. Anything to steady your own nerves. Your hand was small in his, his fingers twice the width of yours. You enjoyed observing his hands, his arms, his smile. Studying Daryl had been your favorite pastime. "Remember when we almost crashed on my bike once because you wouldn't stop tickling me?" He questioned, seeing the sides of your mouth rise into a sweet smile. "There's that smile." The RV had come to a stop and your quick-lived happiness had died. You took hold of the knife in your lap, letting everyone pile off before you did. Daryl took the moment of silence to touch your cheek and bring you into a small kiss. "You can do this." You weren't so sure. Rick had been through the plan, each of you with a role to do. Hide in the van, wait until they're alone, go in for the kill, storm the building.

And you did just that. You escaped having to kill the first two, all you did was storm the building with them. You'd all split into two, you'd gone alongside Daryl, and you were instructed to kill these people in their sleep. People, bad people, who had no idea tonight was their last night. You knew they were terrible people, the pictures on their walls were only a fraction of evidence, but weren't you also just as bad? Killing walkers was one thing, this was an entirely new level of fucked up. The squelch as you'd sunk the knife into their temple made you cringe, and blood had come pooling out. Your first instinct was to reach for it and cover it up, and in doing so, blood had covered your fingers and palms in thick, red blood. You felt nauseous, the knife in your hand feeling close to slipping, you made made a mess of this. The rest of the outpost was the same, knife through the temple, the occasional sounds of bullets thwipping past you to enter the bodies of some unfortunate Saviors. The shakes had spread, your knees almost buckling from the insecurity of your feet. Daryl was quick to notice and wrap an arm around you, securing you against him. "I got ya, sweetheart. Come on." His voice was the only thing you could hear, his arms were the only thing you could feel, and you'd walked with him out onto the open field surrounding the outpost. Daylight was starting to show, you'd heard a radio going off... Something about Maggie and Carol... You'd fallen to your knees to recollect yourself, everyone's heads turning to locate where this mysterious radio caller was. Your brain was off, your body was on. The group on the radio had taken Maggie and Carol to a slaughterhouse, and managed to fight their way out, to your relief. You couldn't take another death on your hands. The blood on your hands had dried, stained between the grooves of your fingerprints. You couldn't look at your hands without feeling sick, but Daryl could happily take your hands in his and distract you. It's something he'd grown to be good at. He shuffled closer into you, pulling your legs over his, and gesturing to his shoulder. "Come 'ere, girl." But you couldn't stop staring at your hands. The blood cracking and flaking on your hands, the feeling of sliding the knife into their brain haunted you. Even as you'd arrived back in Alexandria, you hadn't stopped to tell the tale to others, you'd broken off from the group the moment you left the RV. It wasn't until you were in the home you shared with Daryl, that the tears had started to fall. They were terrible people, you kept reminding yourself. But it wasn't enough.

You'd pushed yourself into the bathroom, rinsing your hands under the taps and scrubbing at your skin. You'd used a scourer, and rag, all of which needed to be binned afterwards. The blood kept flowing through your hands, out of the taps, covering you in guilt. The blood wouldn't wash off. Daryl had finally got himself back, a worried heartbeat echoing in his chest as to your disappearance. In the distance, he heard the tap running and assumed you were getting yourself ready for bed. But the worry hadn't settled. Even before breaching the outpost, you had that look in your eye. Daryl knew you. In and out. He could find you in the dark. He could tell when things weren't right. So when he'd seen you in the midst of a full Lady Macbeth breakdown, he'd dropped everything. All of his own worries and anxieties. Nothing mattered more to him than you. He took your hands in his, seeing pale red water from the residue on your hands, and it all clicked. "Please, Dar," you cried softly, "help me get it off." Daryl's eyebrows wobbled at the sight of you, emotion threatening to expose itself. He'd grabbed a towel, wrapping your hands in it tightly and sitting you down on his lap on the bathroom floor. You sobbed against his chest, the warmth of his skin would usually comfort you, but you couldn't settle. Not even in the safety of your home, or the walls surrounding your community. Daryl couldn't say it's okay, it wasn't. Nothing about this was okay, but the most he could do was hold you. Give you his company.

And you did, the pair of you sat quietly together until your sobs had reduced to little sniffles. Daryl's hands held you tightly to his body, and that alone had been enough to keep you from descending further into this breakdown. "Dar," you spoke, voice cracking and sadness still stuck in your throat. He looked up, his sorrowful eyes upon yours and you knew he'd do anything for you. No matter the time of day or the complexity of what you wanted, you knew he'd do it for you. "Please wash my hands for me. I need it to be gone." He nodded, helping you and himself up to lean over the sink once more. He'd plugged the sink and filled it with warm, soapy water, submerging the both of your hands. His fingers slid over your hands, massaging the soap into all the crevices, and under your nails. He made sure to be thorough, and used a new towel to pat your hands dry. They looked sore, red raw from the scrubbing. "Come on," Daryl whispered, leading you into your shared room, reaching for the selection of creams you kept on the nightstand. He'd taken care of you, silently and efficiently making sure you were okay, not a word to be exchanged between the two of you. You'd climbed back into his lap, head on his shoulder and you felt a little more eased. Not entirely okay, but safer with Daryl. "What if this gets worse?" You asked, glancing up at his eyes which were already fixed on yours. "Then you got me to protect ya," he replied, "I won' let a thing hurt ya, not a hair on ya head. Okay?"

[harlowtales]

A chance encounter leaves Jack searching for his Cinderella 🪄✨✨✨

18 plus - Adult Themes

PART 1

Jack saw you from across the New Balance store. He was getting fitted for tour and was busy recording in New York and had an appearance on the Tonight’s Show. He walked in and they rushed everyone to finish their purchase to let the superstar shop. You desperately needed a new pair of shoes with being on your feet all day at work. Since working nights the pain was getting worse. You didn’t take kindly to being asked to clear out and were so annoyed you didn’t even care it was him.

“I’m not leaving because some big shot walked in here.” You said pointing over to him which had Jack looking around slightly embarrassed but quite entertained with a smirk on his face. “That’s so disrespectful to your other customers. My feet are in pain!” You complained loudly and caused a bit of a scene.

“Can I help?” You knew the voice. Everyone knew that smooth Kentucky drawl.

“Not unless you work here.” You shot back rudely. Like how dare he?

“Slow down I didn’t ask for the store to be cleared out. I wouldn’t do that.” He said “hold on let me clear this up. Don’t move.”

You sat down out of sheer exhaustion and agony and waited on him for what reason you didn’t know but were too miserable to care.

“K it’s all good, just shop and take your time. You ight?” He asked with the crease in his brow characteristically showing concern.

“Since you asked I am in fact NOT ok. My feet are fucking killing me working night shift.” You replied honestly.

“For real? What do you do? Oh sorry I know you know and don’t seem to care but I’m Jack by the way nice to meet you…” he said extending his hand

“Zoey.” You said shortly. You knew he was a heartthrob but Jack did nothing for you. Although his height in person was impressive you just weren’t into slick fuck boys and didn’t get all the hype about him. He did look effortlessly good though with a backwards green hat that went well with his eyes, white tank and jeans with the New Balances on that he designed with his best friend Urban. There was a kindness in his crystal blue bedroom eyes and dimpled grin with an almost boyish charm the way he covered his mouth and bowed his head when he chuckled. It was staring to register with you a little bit why girls liked him.

“Nice talking to you Jack I gotta go find something good with amazing arch support” You said sounding every bit the old lady you felt like.

“Um ok no worries I’ll um…leave you alone but you had me shook for a minute I can’t lie. I like your spunk Zoey.” He said almost tentatively but kept an eye on you as you browsed.

“My spunk? Ok Connor, me and “spunk” need some shoes for these tired ass feet.” Your slight grin let Jack know at least you didn’t hate him for potentially ruining your one chance to get comfortable sneakers.

“Forget it bro. She ain’t with it.” Urban nudged Jack and whispered. “Not every chick digs you man just chill.”

“Yeah you right lemme relax. Something about her though” Jack mused as he played with the little tuft of hair under his lip trying to figure out his next move or to actually leave you let you be.

“Yeah like she could give a rats ass who you are and now you’re taking it as a challenge and want to crack her code, we’ve been here before fam. Just drop it we gotta go.” Urban said sensibly. Since he settled down he really wasn’t into Jack hunting down girls around him. He had fucked up once and wasn’t about to do it again.

Later that day Jack Tweeted on X as he now rarely did and sent his fanbase reeling “Hey Zoey I got you. Holler.” while holding his New Balance collab. X was going nuts and soon it spread like wildfire across all platforms and gossip blogs were crashing fielding questions about who this Zoey person was.

A few weeks later you hopped on IG. With night shift, school, and managing your little one you didn’t have time to scroll and had turned off notifications for everything. You hadn’t told anyone about your encounter as you had virtually forgotten about it by now. Nobody alerted you to anything as there was thousands of Zoeys in New York City and you never talked about being remotely interested in Jack Harlow.

As you scrolled finally having the time to get your nails done you dropped your bubble tea. “Mommy are you ok?” Your daughter Aaliyah asked you and picked up your drink with her little chubby hands lovingly handing it to you. You pecked her on the forehead.

“Yes bubs I’m fine.” You lied. Suddenly you felt warm and like you needed to lie down, but why? It was New York and famous men checked you out before but this was no regular feeling. You weren’t following him on IG but a hip hop page had the pic of Jack holding the shoe and said “Who is Zoey a.k.a Cinderella”. You swallowed hard, followed him on X and Tweeted back “I’m a size 7”.

PART 2

“Jack? You good bro?” Copelan said watching Jack’s face suddenly look like he’d seen a ghost. They were out just chilling grabbing some fast food which Jack didn’t do often but lately he felt off and everyone noticed.

“She…it took weeks for her to…” he said dumbfounded. He hurriedly called his assistant Kat. “Get me on a flight to New York ASAP. Cope pack a bag we’re going to New York” Jack had kept his Twitter notifications on to know the minute you replied and was just about to turn them off again and flag it under just another chance encounter.

The plane couldn’t go fast enough. He had to get back and see if there was a chance of what exactly he wasn’t sure. He didn’t like feeling out of control like this. He called the shots in every situation but you had a way of unnerving him. Most of the girls in his circle didn’t have much to do but hang out and look pretty. Here you were working a night shift. He had to know more. There was a story there with you for sure. He saw pics of your daughter and you on IG but no dad. He was hoping the coast was clear.

His assistant had already found where you work. Mt.Sinai Hospital. Him, Copelan, Kat, and his security hit the room and had a nap because from Kat’s sleuthing she found out your shift at the hospital started at 9PM. Exactly what you did he wasn’t sure but by the looks of you he was crossing his fingers you were a nurse.

“Ok everybody listen up! It’s going to be another crazy night. You know what to do, have each other’s backs and Zoey will be your resident med student tonight so let her know what you need.” The safety huddle was only 5 mins before everyone scattered for a busy night at the hospital. You were loving your new sneakers, got an A on your last assignment, your daughter was safe with your Grandma and you got an extra pep in your step with a hot large coffee.

Tonight was going to be good. You were finally awake and had a 2 week break from school. It wasn’t easy being in med school as a single parent but landing the gig at the hospital was a huge win. Aaliyah was finally able to get the glasses she needed. Poor little thing kept bumping into things before it was realized how bad her eyesight was at 5.

The night was wearing on but that large coffee had worn off. You had to fill in at the front desk for a bit and it actually was a bit slow. To keep from dozing off you put in your earbuds and put on some Jack Harlow. After you met him you started listening to more of his music and liked what you heard. You put your feet up and did nod off for a second. You woke up with a start by a tap on the shoulder.

“Does anybody fucking work around here or what?”

“JACK????!” You screamed “WHAT THE FUCK”

“Hello is more like it young lady.” Jack said cheekily sitting on the front desk counter swinging his legs preparing to be a total nuisance.

“How did you..???” You said bewildered “When did..”

“I have my ways and I got in this afternoon.” He answered loving that he regained control by throwing you off so much. “So can you get off or what? I got your shoes want to take a walk and break them in?” he said producing a box of size 7 New Balances in his floral design.

“I…wow. Thank you so much.” You said blushing opening the box with a smile that showed your dimples.

“That’s what I like to see.” Jack remarked wholeheartedly. To see you smile and be happy rather than annoyed to see him like the first time made the whole trip worth it. “I also brought well…a smaller pair.” He said as Copelan handed him another smaller box for Aaliyah. “I hope they fit her.” He said.

“Jack I can’t.” You refused the pair for your daughter not wanting to send him the wrong message and not trusting him yet.

“Please. It’s just some shoes, we give them away to kids all the time. I insist.” He said convincingly

“So you’ve obviously been on my insta to know where I work and have a daughter.” You said not sure what to make of all this but cautiously accepting the small box.

“I also didn’t see no man on your gram.” Jack said confidently his manly side showing up in a big way.

“Yeah about that…” You said slowly “I’m too busy and Aaliyah’s dad passed away the 1st year she was born so it’s just me and her now.”

“Oh.” Jack said completely changing his posture to a more humble one. “I’m sorry to come all up in your space like this.”

“No don’t be it’s adorable. I just can’t you know…” You said trying to let him down gently. You saw his face drop and decided to make it up to him. “Let me work my magic and I’ll be right back.”

His face lit up and he jumped down from the counter excited. A few minutes later the supervising doctor came out. “So you weren’t lying! It’s Jack Harlow!” She exclaimed. “Nice to meet you” She said nervously shaking Jack’s hand way too hard and for too long. “You know what Zoey? Take tonight off we got it covered here.”

“Imma get you some sneakers too.” Jack said to her gratefully as he walked away with you. Just let Zoey know your size and I got you.”

“Seriously??!! Can you sign them?” Your supervisor said glowing.

“Done.” Jack said “I’ll send them signed.”

“Wow. So how long you been a nurse?” Copelan asked you.

“Um I’m in med school to be a doctor. Cardiac specialist actually.” You said a little tired of people always assuming women were nurses.

“Oops my bad. I didn’t mean..” Cope tried to recover but Jack just gave him a sign to stop.

“Look Jack I need to know where we’re going. I can’t be walking in too late.” You said worried about Aaliyah and knowing your Grandmother would not be having you coming in wee hours of the morning because you had been out with a rapper.

Jack opened the door of the black SUV for you and once nicely inside he sat beside you and took your hand and said “I know you’re a mom and you have a life and responsibilities and I totally respect that. Nothing crazy, let’s go for a bite to eat with the team so you feel safe. There’s no rush. I’m here for a few days because I wasn’t sure how this would go and in case you didn’t like that I surprised you I had time to go back in for more abuse until I had a relative level of success.” He chuckled and it melted your heart. You were starting to relax.

Dinner was fabulous. It was the fanciest restaurant you had ever been in. It made you a little scared because you were working hard and you didn’t want to give Jack the impression you could be bought and no way was he meeting Aaliyah any time soon. You never had guys in and out of her life and you weren’t about to start now. As glasses of wine clinked and the hum of rich conversation was all around you as you sat in your hospital scrubs you knew that without Jack, the way you were dressed, how ordinary you looked, you would never get in a place like this on your own. Your head was spinning. Forever the med school major you were thinking too much. “Why can’t I just enjoy this?” You thought in frustration.

Jack caught a vibe you were uncomfortable. He leaned over to you and whispered “Hey you want to go for a little walk? Get some air?”

“Sure.” You said immediately feeling claustrophobic.

He got up and pulled out your chair for you. As you stepped out of the buzzing Italian restaurant the night air was chilly so he gave you the light jacket he was wearing and rubbed your shoulders to warm you up making you full on laugh.

“That’s what I been wanting to hear. That laugh. That’s the spark in everything.” Jack said wistfully as you strolled together down the street in the city that never sleeps hitched under his arm. For both of you it felt like a dream. You leaned your head on him that sent a tingle through his body. He liked girls before but was this what love felt like? The feeling he said in numerous interviews he had never felt? Maybe it was the champagne but his head felt light and he felt a weight had been lifted off of him having you warm up to him like this. He just wished he could take you home with him. You, Aaliyah, your Grandma and make all your lives so much easier, but he knew that wasn’t possible, at least for now.

“Thank you Jack for all this I…” Jack interrupted what you were saying with a deep kiss. Steam was rising from the street with lights and sounds going fuzzy for that moment like you were in some surreal parallel universe. You didn’t expect his lips to feel so soft and the touch after so many years of not being kissed was almost overwhelming and old instincts kicked in to escape closeness.

“Oh god, Jack that was… oh my, I need to get home to Aaliyah.” You lied checking your watch. Everyone at home was sleeping not even aware you were not at work.

“Zoey please.” Jack pressed into your body gently going in for another kiss.” This time you felt yourself wilt and totally succumb to him. He backed you up against a brick wall as you hadn’t noticed you had turned into an alley that was hard to see what was happening but you felt completely safe with him. Too safe.

“I need you Zoey.” He said breathlessly as his hand drifted lower and lower to your behind. You pushed your tongue into his and felt him rising. Was it going to happen here? In the open like this?

“Jack no this can’t happen here.” You said weakly protesting as he kissed up your neck.

“I wouldn’t expect anything now.” He said “I’m just savouring this moment. Why don’t we head back sweet Zoey, songs are written about girls like you.”

PART 3

In dropping you off Jack walked you to your door. An old brownstone row house you shared with your Grandmother and daughter. As you were saying goodbyes and you were standing in the doorway Aaliyah snuck right past you. You didn’t even hear her coming. With pyjamas on, a curly mop of hair, rubbing her eyes with a teddy bear she was suddenly looking at Jack bewildered.

“Hi.” She said to him shyly and hugged your legs.

“Aaliyah hunny I’m sorry to wake you up.” You apologized picking her up and hitching her on your hip. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now she saw Jack and Jack saw her.

Jack was immediately taken by Aaliyah. She was a mini- version of you and he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. It was hard to contain what he was feeling and not be super goofy with her in some way. He hoped to have a few of his own one day.

“Hey Aaliyah right? Pleased to meet you I’m Jack.” He simply said not wanting to overwhelm the tired little girl.

Aaliyah rested her groggy head on your shoulder and stuck her thumb in her mouth. “Well Jack as you can see I have to tuck her back in. Thank you so much and I apologize for how I acted when we met.” You offered.

“It’s all good. You were going through it that day. Bye Aaliyah, have sweet dreams. I got you a gift and your mom is going to give it to you tomorrow ok?” Jack said rubbing her back.

“Ok Mr.Jack.” She said sleepily

“Zoey, can I please see you tomorrow?” Jack asked cautiously hopeful.

“Jack I have to spend time with Aaliyah tomorrow.” You replied.

“Ok I can come with, if it’s ok. Aaliyah can I hang out with you and Mommy tomorrow?” Jack asked her

“What are you doing? Don’t ask her that, she’s not ready for that.” You shot back at him turning away cradling Aaliyah as she drifted off back to sleep.

“She’s not ready? Or you’re not ready.” He countered. He wasn’t going to back down easily.

“Jack…” you started to say

“I’ll pick you up at Noon.” He interrupted. You had successfully curved guys for years but feared you just met your match. “How’s the Zoo sound tomorrow for this little sleepy bubs.” Jack said affectionately.

“I call her bubs.” You said frozen in surprise at him using that word.

“I knew this was on some serendipity vibes meeting you. I hope you’re ready to make some changes in your life Zoey cuz this is happening.” Jack said firmly

PART 4

Aaliyah waited by the window for the man that gave her the pretty sneakers with flowers. She liked that he was nice to her mommy and made her smile because mommy didn’t smile that much. She saw the Black SUV roll to a stop in front of her house. He started walking up and rang the doorbell. Aaliyah jumped down from the couch “Mommyyyyyy!!!! Mr. Jack is here!”

You were in your room breathing and talking to yourself that everything would be fine. “It’s just the Zoo, it’s just the zoo.” You said calmly while freaking out inside. That kiss lived in your head rent free since it happened and made you nervous to see him again. You jumped when the doorbell rang and Aaliyah called for you. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror scrutinizing every last detail of your outfit. Hoop earrings but not too big, jeans with a rips in the knees, Jordan’s and a Nirvana hoodie, light makeup, and sloppy but controlled bun. This was a day at the Zoo with a pre-schooler not exactly the time for impressing Jack, and in fact you didn’t want to send the message you were too available.

Jack had a personality that was very strong, quiet, light hearted but energetic all at the same time. He was almost as much of a handful as Aaliyah. You were adjusting to who he was feeling awkward and out of practice going on dates. When you made it downstairs Jack, his Security, Copelan, his assistant, and the driver were all in the living room talking to Aaliyah and your Grandmother. They were eating some fresh homemade banana bread and sipping some tea out of the good tea set. Granny only broke that out for damn near royalty.

Aaliyah was enjoying the extra treats she was getting because there was a guest. She sat happily having an extra piece of banana bread which was her favourite and playing with a new Barbies Jack instructed Kat to pick out for her at Wal-Mart early in the morning. He knew the key to your heart was him treating Aaliyah right and he was holding back from spoiling the little girl or you. He had brought you flowers but that’s it. He could tell showering you with gifts would make you run.

As you appeared in the doorway everyone stopped and looked at you. Jack swallowed hard because he thought you looked naturally gorgeous. Copelan nudged him because he had his mouth hanging open and was staring. “Miss Zoey you had this poor man waiting on the stoop I had to entertain and feed him poor thing was hungry.” Your Grandmother said in a chiding tone.

“Thank you Granny for entertaining everyone while I took a whole 5 minutes to come down.” You said sarcastically. “Aaliyah you remember Jack right?”

“Yes and he brought me Barbies!” Aaliyah exclaimed

“I see that. Don’t get spoiled.” You cautioned her sternly. “Shoes and Barbies in less than 24 hours. Wow okay thank you Jack.” You said disapprovingly.

“Zoey! So rude!” Your Grandmother said in shock you would say that to the only date you had in years that happened to be so handsome and charming. “I’m sorry for my Granddaughter’s attitude Mr. Harlow.” She said turning to Jack embarrassed.

You were mortified and turned crying running upstairs and slamming your bedroom door. “What is wrong with me?” You said sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s ok Mr.Jack Mommy cries a lot.” Aaliyah said while playing with her Barbies.

“I got this. Guys we’ll meet you in the car. Aaliyah I’ll go check on Mommy ok.” Jack said concerned it was so normal for the little girl to see you cry like that. He gently knocked on your door. “Zoey? You ight? Can I come in?”

You were surprised he hadn’t left. You blew your nose, straightened yourself out and opened the door. “Hey” you said humbly knowing you were totally out of pocket a minute ago.

“Hey.” Jack said softly holding out the bouquet he brought you like some sort of peace offering. “May I?” He asked gesturing to wrap his arms around you to which you tearfully nodded. “No matter how hard you try I’m here. Even if this goes nowhere. I know this is a lot for you and I been holding back to not overwhelm you but if I don’t push a little Imma get nowhere.”

Jack continued holding you and tilted your chin up to look him in his blue eyes. “I’m just trying to get to know you. I didn’t fly all the way back here with my team to make you feel bought and paid for. I genuinely think Aaliyah is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen because she’s a mini you and I’m hoping…Zoey I….I’ve fallen for you and dammit Imma fall as hard as I want to. You’re not the only stubborn one up in here.”

Jack disarmed you once again with his caring calm voice and his warm embrace. “I don’t deserve you. I’m a single mom, I’m not anything to date a famous person. I don’t know how to act or what to say.” You said frustrated with yourself.

“Zoey, that’s why I like you. You’re just you. I haven’t seen you try to impress me once since I met you and you don’t know how much that means to me. Barbies? I held back from buying Aaliyah that whole damn toy store. I’m trying to go at your pace but you gotta let me do something to show I care. So can we go to the Zoo? I’d really like to get out of your bedroom because 3 more minutes and we are taking this convo to the mattress. That messy bun is my kryptonite.”

You giggled and gathered yourself to have a great day. “I’m going to the Bronx Zoo with Jack Harlow and it’s perfectly natural right? What in the actual fuck is going on??!!!” You thought as he helped you into the luxury SUV with the most plush seats you ever sat in holding your hand all the way to the Zoo.

PART 5

“Mommyyyyy!!!! Look!! The giraffes have suuuppper long legs like Mr. Jack.” Aaliyah said delightfully not in any way trying to insult Jack. She was quite taken with him hitching a ride sitting on his shoulders.

Jack thought it was adorable “Can’t beat kids for their brutal honesty” He said with a giggle.

“Wow now I can’t unsee it.” You said with a straight face looking at him and looking at the giraffe. Jack thought he was the only one that could joke sarcastically serious but he was wrong. Most girls would be afraid to come off rude and be putting on a show for him on their best behaviour but not you. He’d already experienced you being down right rude and a crying mess so this was a step up as far as he was concerned.

The day was super fun but on the way home both you and Aaliyah fell asleep on either side of Jack putting your full weight on him. Kat thought it was so cute she took a picture. “Don’t post that it would piss my baby right off.” He whispered in a chuckle feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

“Your baby?” Kat said with a smirk “Careful Jack it sounds like you have feelings after all.”

“I have lots of feelings I just make sure I stuff em down as far as I can cuz when I settle down it’s gotta be forever. I have big shoes to fill with my Grandparents and parents married for so long.” He said so seriously it gave Kat tingles. She was so happy to see this side of her boss. “I can’t fuck up my whole bag on some gold digger. This one right here…might be it” He said pecking you on the forehead waking you up.

“Oh geez I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you!” You said with a start.

“It’s fine. I’m glad y’all enjoyed it.” Jack said

“I never been to the Zoo. My parents died before…and then her dad…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer. We had a ball Jack.” You said not wanting to ruin the moment. There was plenty of time for sob stories. You happily pecked him on the cheek.

“That’s why you cry a lot.” Jack said looking at you like his whole world.

“How did you know that?” You said incredulously

“A little birdie told me.” He said looking at Aaliyah passed out leaning on his arm.

“Yeah that little birdie sings like a canary sometimes.” You said frowning at your daughter for spilling that tea.

When he dropped you off it was turning into evening. Granny was cooking up a storm disappointed Jack couldn’t stay for dinner. Jack had Aaliyah on his shoulder and carried her upstairs. You tucked her in and met him in the hallway. He pulled you in for a long kiss his hand grazing your breast but he pulled it back. “One day soon Jack, I promise.” You said breathlessly. “It’s not like I don’t want to I just…”

“You don’t have to explain but if I don’t hit the road we gone make a movie in your childhood bedroom and Granny tryna feed me.” He said completely serious but you snorted a laugh.

“Mmmmm I hope we make a movie and a sequel.” You said caressing his built chest through his TShirt.

“Zoey please I’m getting a hard on stop it.” Jack said in mock protest. “Im tryna turn over a new leaf here and behave myself.”

“You’re right. Aaliyah is all I can handle.” You replied rolling your eyes at her bedroom door. “Unless….”

“Unless what?” Jack said sexily leaning back against the wall while you put your hand on his generous bulge through his trackpants

“Zoey…..” he moaned

“Come to my room.” You said daringly pulling him in and locking the door.

Granny heard a thud from upstairs as you both flopped on the bed and just shook her head giggling to herself as she finished the macaroni and cheese she was making to go with the pot roast. “I guess he’s staying for dinner.” She said

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice @ride4harlow

[fruitgumy]

one thing i don't like about how hori wrote afo's backstory is that the narration makes it seem like afo was just born evil by saying that he was just born greedy and selfish. a major theme of the series is how otherwise good or even just neutral people become evil because of societal failures, but it's like all of that goes out the window when it comes to afo.

i'm in no way excusing afo, but he was a "meta" born in a time where people hunted his kind for sport. if you're a toddler with a deadly power that both makes you physically different from others and is so powerful that it scares people (spearlike bones) of course you're going to be ostracized. and with that ostracization comes the people who want to kill you. so what do you do? what is the only thing you can do? it becomes kill or be killed. then you become desensitized to killing, you may not even fully understand the weight of a life — you're only, like, 4 years old. you learn that problems can be solved with violence. need something for you and your brother? kill to get it. you realize that what you want can just be taken, not to mention your power incentivizes you to take what you want anyways.

many people point out that yoichi grew up just as poor and abandoned as afo, but there's an important distinction to make. yoichi was thought to be quirkless. he would not have been hunted like afo was. he would not have had the pressure of keeping a weaker, sicker sibling alive. although yoichi's life was no walk in the park, he and yoichi would've had an entirely different worldview. afo craves power because power is what has allowed him to survive his childhood. yoichi's lack of power and victimization because of his weakness leads him to understand the importance of wielding power responsibly. so with that in mind, it must've been hard for him to understand yoichi's talks about justice when they likely only survived because of afo's ruthlessness.

i realize this post makes me sound like afo's #1 dick rider which i kind of am, but i'm not delusional. the man is evil, he chose to stay that way, and he was well past any form of redemption, but i just hate the idea of an inherently evil newborn baby so fucking much. i think that he's like tomura in the sense that with the right guidance, he could have been a somewhat normal person. (that's a whole other post in itself, how he literally gave tomura his own trauma because he knew from experience how it would break him) yes of course it's possible for him to have grown up without becoming evil, but honestly i think anyone, if handed those specific set of circumstances, would more than likely go down a very very bad path.

[blue-rose-soul]

Theory: Alastor's got some daddy issues himself and his butting into Lucifer's song was less about him actually viewing Charlie as a daughter (though I do think he has some genuine fondness for her) and more about sticking it to someone he views as a deadbeat dad.

[toxifoxx]

truly at the end of the day its all about receiving validation

[strwbrymlkshake]

who up praying for downfalls 🤨

[medicinemane]

"Highly respected individuals including henry kissanger..." well I gotta stop you right there, you've got a major inaccuracy cause no one in their right mind respects that man

[dormont]

emery just told me about breloom's plot in explorers of the sp!rit THAT'S SO FUCKING STUPID LMAO

[autopsytableromance]

hey why did my manager unprompted tell me and like 3 other coworkers a story about how he had his dog terrorize her girlfriend for three hours while he took a nap and she hid in the car afraid like it was a funny story to tell.

[todayisafridaynight]

OH about the finale at the shrine, this completely slipped my notice when we were talking about it, but Ichi says he's "reporting" Jo's verdict to both Arakawa and Masato. It's just not translated that way.

Not too big of a difference (well, it is to me, but I'm insane), but if it was highlighting anything, I'd guess it's probably Masato's change of heart. It would've been fair for Ichi to assume Masato wouldn't care and only "report" to Arakawa, but in the context of Ichi doing his damnedest to show Masato they all love him, it works in terms of, "Maybe I made him reconsider, and maybe now he would care."

Also... I'm looking at it in a "measured" way, since the chapter trophies are always just standard "Nth Chapter Cleared" messages that the localization team just spices up for us, but there's something I find really poignant about the Chapter 13 trophy being worded as "Fate of Our Fathers." The pluralization of both the noun and pronoun. Realizations that come too late.

Of course, Masato definitely didn't "know" and had no real reason to suspect it, but the Arakawas have this bizarre subconscious almost-psychic link. So even if he doesn't really think so, there's this sense that Ichi "might as well" be Arakawa's "real" son because they're so much more alike. And maaaybe he felt that way about Jo and himself at one point, because (as we've discussed) there has to be a reason Jo was Masato's "favorite."

[Follow up to this ask]

[fairyzar]

the older i get the more confused i become in regards to my identity.

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Ive been being nice but too many people are saying this is the best moonknight run theres ever been so Im posting these panels out of context

Stop making him talk like this Jed hes at least 40.

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)