#like way back early this year. turns out another guy from the other school went bowling w their friends in the same mall

[chariaki]

A sudden romance like the sudden fall of rain.

Yuji Itadori x reader

September has entered, which means winter is near, which also means storms are raging. The thunderstorms lasted for five days straight, making the climate unbearably cold, the ground wet and the roofs clattering with the continous fall of rain drops.

Your high school suspended classes for those past few days, and today...the weather had calmed down and there wasn't any prior announcement, so you went on your way to school.

You entered the campus, feeling odd with the sight of an empty lobby. It was already 6:30 am. You figured you got there too early and headed to the hallway to your classroom, that was until a familiar figure popped out. It was Yuji! In all his beautiful glory, looking as confused as you did.

Oh! Let me introduce him. Yuji Itadori, your classmate ever since your first year of high school, and...your crush. You don't remember when and how you fell for him, but you know why. He's just so bright, funny, kind, and weird, in a good way!

His curious eyes lingered on you.

"Yn! Good morning! What are you doing here?" He tilted his head, a soft smile on his face. As always, he was refreshing.

"huh? I'm here for school... just like you?" You wondered why he asked the obvious, until it dawned on you to check your phone, and what a surprise!

"Oh. They cancelled it again, huh?"

"Hehe.. Yeah.. " Yuji chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. You looked at him, his uniform was a little wet from the rain, his jacket keeping him warm, in his hand was a big red umbrella, and in the hallways was just the two of you.

"Do you wanna come with me to check with the teachers?" He waited for your response, eyes filled with... hope.

"Yeah, sure!" You nodded, walking closer to him, awkwardly walking beside him.

You weren't really close friends with him, so it was new for you to walk beside him. So closely that your shoulders brush against each other. So closely that you smell his perfume. So closely that you feel his body heat radiate from beside you.

You accused yourself for leaning so close to him.

In the midst of the quiet patter of your footsteps and the jokes Yuji made to ease the atmosphere, your mind couldn't help but imagine him and you as a couple.

The thought of you and him walking to school together, him ranting about how he stayed up late to finish assignments, you nodding along, him making jokes, you laughing at him, him stealing glances of your smile, you, unknowingly wishing he liked you too.

You reached the teacher's office. He peeked a glance at the window, the door was locked, the lights were turned off. It really was just you and him in school.

"Looks like we were too excited to get here" He laughed, body swaying randomly, eyes wandering around, mind waiting for you.

"Ahhh. Yeah" You awkwardly mused. You could feel his eyes intent on you.

"Well-"

"Well-"

"..."

"Oh." You simultaneously uttered, again.

"You go first, Itadori."

"Well then, shall we go home?" He casually stated, as if it was a given that he would walk home with you. As if he would actually feel sad to leave without you.

"Home? Us?... together? " You were surprised. You were gonna awkwardly bid him goodbye, because you thought he would want to walk by himself. But the way he just casually included you, made you remember why you like him. He didn't make anything awkward, unlike you, who was a flustered mess beside him.

"Yeah! Or, would you like to grab a snack?" He matched his walking pace with yours. Eyes focused on you, as they always have been.

"I would love to."

You were happy you went to school early before checking on the announcements, because that meant that you were met with another person who was as clumsy as you, and luckily, as you believed fate would have it, that clumsy guy was Yuji Itadori.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

In the empty path from school walked two students, ignorant of the cold wind that whooshed their way, for it was their hearts that warmed their being. Completely unaware that the other feels the same way.

Content with simply being able to bask in each other's presence, with him clueless to the way your eyes evidently adore him, and with you, who was oblivious to the fact that it wasn't you who leaned closer, it was him.

[dduane]

...So once again it's the time of year when I return to this piece of digital art (or its earlier versions), tweak it a little in the attempt to get closer to what I see in my head, and repost it for Pride. (ETA, 3 June 2024: image tweaked a little bit more via late-night re-render because the upholstery wasn't rendering correctly, and as a result the kitty sort of vanished. Which would not be at all her style...)

At the moment I'm looking at These Two Idiots (for so they are) and considering with the usual bemusement how long I've been working with them. Of all the characters I've worked with in print, the only ones I've known longer would be the crew of NCC-1701—and very shortly now, for the first time as paid writing, a couple of gentlemen named Holmes and Watson.

I first "met" these guys in late 1970 in the form of the fellow college students on whom they'd be based: a couple of gents (not gay, as it happens) who were friends to me when I needed some. They were a tall dark guy and a short blond one with a mustache that came and went... so that, not even knowing the word "trope" at the time, I fell headfirst into one.

Less than a year after I met them, I changed educational tracks and schools, and we all drifted apart. But something about them stuck. The nature and depth of their friendship was unusual. So was one way it manifested itself: in ruthless snark that had no meanness or cruelty about it whatsoever—just affection.

In the late sixties I'd begun writing some very derivative fic strongly influenced by Tolkien. Rather to my surprise, though, as I started nursing school in 1971, the nature of that fiction started to change, and began rearranging itself around two characters who had a friendship like those of my college friends. With them as its core, a rather different kind of medieval-ish fantasy world started knitting itself together from various scraps of themes and imagery lying around in the back of my brain.

Even so early in the construction phases of this world, something the characters quickly made plain to me in the writing was that their relationships with one another were not what mainstream 1970s culture would consider conventional. They were gay... but that was a background issue,* and not at all the most important thing in their lives. They had far more important business to deal with—as became clear as their personalities and priorities started filling themselves out in the foreground.

One of them turned out to be the deliberate, analytical, methodical son of a provincial nobleman, all too aware of the expectations of those around him: that he might well eventually wind up running that province himself. Yet at the same time he also became aware that he had other problems, chief among them the discovery of a nascent power that would kill him young if he couldn't master it. And in the last thousand years, no one of his gender ever had.

The other presented himself more and more clearly as a difficult case: someone who wanted very much to be good at the family business, but wasn't... and knew it. Kind of a screw-up, repeatedly doing the wrong things for what he was sure were the right reasons. Yet, no matter how often he screwed up, he was also the kind of person who keeps picking himself up and trying again, because he's been told over and over that that's what people like him have to do: otherwise they're no use to anybody.

Imagine my shock when I realized that these two men—initially canonically enemies in their adolescence, then best friends as they grew, and eventually much more—were the (incomplete) answer to the question I'd once asked my Mom at the end of the bedtime reading of some fairy tale or other: "Why can't a prince rescue another prince?" Because one of them got himself more than once into situations where he really needed one kind or another of rescuing. The other one obliged him, while once or twice getting rescued himself. Those interlocking patterns started to solidify out of concept and into character detail and plot, while their world grew and proliferated into its own detail around them.

Then, without warning, in 1978 both world and characters decided they were ready to get real. I was abruptly dragged gasping and flailing under the surface of a novel that would begin the tale of what those two characters had yet to become. The period it took to produce that first draft was possibly the most interesting six weeks of my life... and that includes the six weeks during which I first scrubbed in on brain surgery. Day and night, for days at a time, I barely even existed except as something for a novel to come out of. When it was done with me, it just as abruptly dumped me back into my life and wandered away, leaving me staring around, blinking and wondering if anybody’d got the number of that truck. Nothing like it has ever happened to me since, which may be just as well. I’m none too sure that these days I could handle the strain.

The book—which sold a couple of weeks after it landed on its first publisher's desk—kicked off my career as novelist and screenwriter, and in its way proved that the world was at least somewhat ready for epic fantasy in which the basic culture was pansexual, polyamorous, and inclusive in ways that hadn't been attempted before.

So I owe them a debt, those two gentlemen up there: the tall dark curly-haired guy with the amateur strategist's mind, the blacksmith's shoulders, and the peculiar sword, his background thought always nibbling away at the question of how to heal the world's wounds: and the short fair gent who if he could would stay at home, live quietly in town, and work in the local library... except for when saving the world (or his found family) requires him to subsume his being into that of his ancestral demigod. Due to the success of the book in which they made their debut, these two became, in their way, the fairy† godfathers of the Young Wizards—and additionally enabled all that Star Trek fanfic I'd started writing a decade before to proceed to its logical conclusion.

More to the point, though, a lot of people in the 1980s and '90s who'd never seen queer representation in a fantasy novel, found it first, or at last, while following Herewiss and Freelorn down their road. It's been my pleasure to hold that space for new readers, and keep adding to it... because (if you ask me) it's needed more now than ever.

So, to the readership of the Middle Kingdoms works—now pushing half a century old—and everybody else who's celebrating the season: happy Pride!

*Not least because everybody else in their world is (at least potentially) some shade of queer, including God.

†(snicker)

[drdemonprince]

i read in the comments to my last ask about "ordinary unhappiness" the idea of depression as a lack of agency and i feel like that is true? when i feel miserable and in pain, it's not because something is sad but because something is either unachievable or impossible (or at least there is the perception of it). and like i think that's what you were getting at too? this thing that drives you to keep going, this lack of satisfaction. i simply don't have anything i can give into such that i would ever even feel a lack of satisfaction. i've never had anything to give myself into and feel frustrated and perhaps sometimes successful in but instead i just envy the people who do have those things. nothing i've ever done has felt maintained a sense of emotional connectiveness in that way (positive or negative). i guess to wrap this back around to another potential talking point, i'm curious how you find that in your life? is it weird for me that nothing has ever felt worth putting myself whole ass into? idk, i find it envious you've got both writing and gay hypno fetish stuff you're able to just throw yourself into so wholly and utterly

Passion isn't inherent, it can be a choice too. I only look like I care a ton about writing and gay hypno stuff because I have deliberately chosen to pursue those passions, for many years, and cultivated a deep interest in them, anon.

When I was in my early twenties, I felt completely empty. I was a void. If you've read the first chapter of Unmasking Autism, this is the period I'm talking about in that book. I went away to graduate school (because I was good at academics, and I had some illusions about what a career in that field would do for me), but I had absolutely zero zest for the subject of psychology at that point. I had no research ideas. I read psychology books and publications purely out of obligation. I did what was required of me, but nothing additional beyond that, and I spent the rest of my time sitting at home, sometimes literally staring at the wall and crying. I had no friends or hobbies, aside from taking long, long depression walks listening to podcasts in order to fill the silence.

This was when I was at my most depressed, and my most suicidal. Just existing was a pain. I'd sob in bed at night and cry out begging for God to kill me, and I didn't even believe in God. The only thing that distracted me from my pain was a guy I was seeing, who was beautiful and very cruel and inconsistent, and I clung to him through all kinds of lies and abuse because it felt as though my happiness was located inside of him.

I had a friend that I wrote to about how miserable I was, and all the twists and turns that my horrible romance was taking. Her name was Heather. (Unlearning Shame is dedicated to her). She told me hey, you're a really good writer, did you know that? I really enjoy reading your emails, even when you're speaking about the most pitiful anguished shit, you really put it poetically and have a ton of insight. You should write more.

For a while, I ignored her. I didn't care about writing. I just wanted to get my pain out on the page because I had nobody to talk to, and oodles of time to waste. I had nothing otherwise that I felt I HAD to say. I had no PASSION. I did not feel like I was put on this earth to do anything. Other people seemed to have these drives, and I had nothing.

But then one day in a fit of depression I stopped by a bookstore right near my apartment, The Armadillo's Pillow, just to get outside of the house. I happened upon a book I had loved in high school, Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. I took it home. I read it. It transported me for a few hours away from my pain. I went back to the book store and picked up some sci-fi. A John Varley collection, I think. I was also swept away from my suffering, even when the stories had flaws that I noticed. I was interested in the actual craft of storytelling: what worked and what didn't. And there was finally some beauty in my head instead of the usual dreariness and self-hatred and emptiness.

And so. I made the choice to write. I could have taken it or left it at that point. I didn't care about anything. Caring is a muscle that you have to flex. And when you're depressed, it can be very hard. I needed a lot of nudges from the external world and other people, to realize that I had some things I did gravitate toward, even if I didn't realize it.

All that time of course I WAS driven to write. I was churning out 5k word letters to Heather every day practically. I was reading stupid shit online. And when it was put in front of me, and I had no reason to feel guilt about not working hard enough on other things, I reached for books. But I didn't feel passion strongly under the heavy blankets of my depression. Or usually at all, really. I am a quite internally muted person whose emotions are suppressed. But they're there. Speaking to me softly. And to overcome my depression, I had to decide to listen to them instead of ignoring them all of the time, and give them kindling, and then fan them into a flame.

I started blogging regularly while I was in graduate school (right here, hello, you can check my archive dating back to 2011), and finding a reason to live. When I was writing, I felt like the world was interesting, and beautiful. It gave me new things to do. I attended literary readings and book launches all over town. I submitted work to magazines. I bought old copies of magazines and read them. I inhaled books. I listened to fiction podcasts. I joined writing groups. At first, it felt like a slog, like anything else. Doing these things, I was not "happy". But I was interested. I liked learning about the world of publishing, critiquing people's stories in my head, and commisserating with other Tumblr writers about the stuff that got featured on the Prose tag that sucked.

After YEARS of doing this, of choosing to fan my passions, it became a genuine motivation in my life. But even then? I lose track of it sometimes. I get busy, or there's no place comfy to sit and read in my apartment, and I forget that I like writing and reading for months at a time. And then I have to choose it again. It takes effort to care about something, every time.

It's the same way with hypno. I did have a fetish for this stuff all my life long. But it's a passion that people always thought was weird and gross, and that I thought was bad. I didn't tell anyone about it until my late 20's. I felt ashamed masturbating to it or looking up hypno content online. For years I snuffed out that flame of passion until I could barely feel it anymore. It wasn't until I was super depressed AGAIN in my later 20's that I took a bunch of weird off-label anti-depressant drugs under the table and had a weird dreamy headspace overtake me and make me insanely horny that I remembered how much I loved hypno, and because I was in search of an escape from my tormented brain, I sought hypnotists out.

And I had the time of my life. But I also had boring, awkward encounters, bad hook-ups, and had to do a ton of work.

My passions have drawn me out of depression because I needed them to. I had to find them, listen to them, and then give them lots of food. And it's one of the few things that a person does often have agency over, no matter how dispiriting their circumstances. You can make choices about where to put what attention you do have, in what free moments you do have. When you're on the bus or in line at the grocery store and you're thinking about how much you hate yourself, you can try to think about a story you read or a sexual fantasy you had, instead. It's a lot of work. But it's better work than the work of hating yourself, which takes a whole lot of energy and attention itself.

I hope you can find something like this for you. It doesn't really matter what it is. It can be some hobby you've always wanted to try, or something "childish" you've suppressed. Having a passion isn't like being chosen by the universe to care about something. It's not like love at first sight. Nothing fucking works like that in life. It's always work. It's always a choice you have to make, because no one else will give it to you. But there can be hints that you can follow, sometimes.

[poppadom0912]

Unexpected

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

Summary: For nine months, you'd prepared and expected a baby but something unexpected happens.

A/N: Hello! I was back at school this week and have been so drained from the work load so I'm here relaxing and writing away. I only know surface level stuff so I'm sorry for any medical inaccuracies. Exams are next week so I won't be writing anything then. This is unedited and I apologise but please do enjoy!!!!

Four years into your marriage with Kelly, two years with infertility issues, you had come to the point of acceptance and making the possible choice of fostering or adoption.

But then one day you got shot at work and when treating you, the doctor gave you the unexpected news.

You couldn't believe it. You were finally pregnant. After so much struggle, IVF and the unsuccessful tests, you were finally pregnant. You could finally have the family you dreamed of having as a little girl.

You weren't allowed back onto the field. Hank benching you to desk work till your baby welcomed itself. A choice that made you very angsty to get up and be on the move.

You didn't feel like much of a detective being sat at a desk all day while the rest of Intelligence went running around ragged looking and catching bad guys.

So during the moments of peace, you found yourself driving to the firehouse to bother your husband and the people he considered family.

The men and women of 51 loved you as much as they did Kelly, you were one of their own and you were doing the impossible by growing and delivering a mini Kelly Severide into the world.

Kelly rolled his eyes every time you brought up the gender. Call it mothers intuition but you had a gut feeling that you were having a boy, a concept which Kelly didn't mind but thought otherwise.

Refusing to find out the gender, you preferred to watch everyone wait impatiently, their bets pilling up as they put money on your baby's gender.

You scoffed seeing Kim and Hailey 'sneakily' pass money over to Cruz one night at Molly's.

The pregnancy flew by. Small milestones of your belly popping, the first kicks, the weird cravings and watching the growing blob develop on an ultrasound was so surreal but before anyone knew it, you were already hitting the nine month mark.

You left early. Today's case was running late and another murder got called it close to midnight, you were no longer needed and your husband sat at home. The thought of foot massage was ever so enticing.

Said man welcomed you home with the tea that soothed your nausea, your nightly snack at the go and he looked just delicious sitting in his pyjamas.

Pregnancy hormones man. Who would've thought.

And just like every night, the day ended with both of you in bed, his hands gently caressing your ballooning stomach, talking and debriefing with your unborn baby, smiling when a particular comment elicited a kick, showing the imprint on a foot against your skin.

Falling asleep wasn't easy though, especially with the new addition of Braxton hicks. You always found yourself tossing and turning, pushing Kelly to the other side of the bed so you could be left alone with the other love of your life: your pregnancy pillow. The triangular pillow a dream come true.

Eventually, you got up to refill your bottle and water, taking a quick pee because the pressure on your bladder was stupid.

Taking out some ice cubes from the ice tray, you slowly plonked them into your bottle, your eyes heavy with the sleep that refused to come from such a long day at work.

"Baby? Why are you awake?" Kelly's voice was hoarse as he appeared in the kitchen, his hair a mess as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes.

"Your son is playing football in here. He's already obsessed." You whispered back, letting him recollect himself as he made his way towards you, watching through bleary eyes as you closed the freezer door.

"My son huh? Well I think our daughter is just really excited to meet her very impatient parents." Kelly smirked, his arms circling around your waist before he crouched down to be face level with your protruding stomach.

"Hey baby girl." He whispered, his eyes focused on your stomach and nowhere else. "Your mummy is very tired after working all day. She needs all the sleep before you come home. Do you think you could do me a favour?"

You smiled softly at the sight. Your husband was already smitten and the baby wasn't even here yet.

A few seconds passed and all of a sudden, the little football match came to an end.

You scoffed, looking down at your husband incredulously. "Wow."

Standing back up, Kelly now smiled down at you. "Obviously, I'm the favourite parent."

"Watch it lieutenant." You pouted, poking his chest. "I've got some detectives in my back pocket."

Smiling at each other, basking in the silence and warm lighting, you almost forgot about your sleep deprivation.

Breaking you out of your thoughts was the sound of water dripping, Kelly's face mirroring your thoughts.

"Did you leave the tap on?"

You frowned, you were sure you-

Your mind went blank the millisecond you registered your wet trousers.

Looking down at where your feet would've been had it not been for your stomach being in the way, you swore lightly under your breath.

"I think he interpreted your words differently." You said, looking back up at Kelly who stood astonished.

"Baby's coming today."

*****

You didn't go to the hospital straight away.

Instead, you wiped yourself down and changed clothes while Kelly cleaned up and brought out your already packed hospital bag all while timing the length and time between your contractions.

The sun was rising when you made your way to the hospital, your midwife already in the loop the moment your water broke.

Settling into your room, dressed in your gown, you sighed.

You were bored. What were you supposed to do while you waited for the birth to get into motion.

Your epidural had been confirmed and scheduled for later on when your contractions progressed further. The nurse had just come to measure you before leaving.

You sent a quick text to Hank, apologising for such short notice, saying your maternity leave would start earlier than planned. Kelly had just called Boden, his shift starting not too long ago.

"Boden's got Cruz covering for me." Kelly said, putting his phone in his pocket as he stood by your bedside.

"I'm all yours for the next few weeks."

"I would love you so much if you could just-" You sharply inhaled at the painful contraction, doing the breathing exercises you practised with your midwife. "Just get this baby out."

"How about we go on a walk? Might help speed things up."

All Kelly was met with were your grabby hands.

*****

Several hours later and you were in active labour.

You were surrounded by nurses and the doctor, Kelly glued to your side but at some point when you were pushing, he was ushered away by a nurse who you briefly heard mention the words 'umbilical cord'.

"It's a girl!"

You choked back a sob, your eyes watery as they placed your daughter on your chest for skin-to-skin. Your hands immediately flew to hold her. Your emotions so haywire that you couldn't care less about the cleanliness of her little body.

Inhaling shakily, you looked up through tears at Kelly who was back at your side. He kissed your forehead multiple times, his hand on top of yours so you could both hold your baby.

After a few minutes, she was carefully taken away to be weighed and clean, leaving you and Kelly to revel alone. Reality came crashing down: you had a daughter, your had a-

"Mrs Severide, what's wrong?"

Hearing the doctors question, Kelly looked away from your daughter and back down at you in alarm, his eyes wide in confusion at your own confused face.

"I- I feel..."

You weren't able to finish as you were overcome with the sudden need to push.

It seemed that even without you voicing your thoughts, they knew exactly what was happening.

"Okay Y/N, we go again." The OB said as you squeezed the blood out of Kelly's hand. "Push just like you did."

The next few moments felt like a blur. You weren't too sure what was reality and what was an illusion - everything was happening too fast for you to comprehend what was actually happening.

All of a sudden, a second cry broke out, as loud and high-pitched as the first.

"It's a girl!"

You blinked, your head clearing up.

"Congratulations! Two beautiful girls!"

Then the apparent second baby was placed on your chest, a routine that was just performed not even ten minutes ago.

The tears were flowing now with nothing to stop them. Your shaky hands went to hold her small body as the clouds dissipated and the sky finally cleared.

*****

The two baby beds were rolled towards your bed, Kelly standing up when the nurses entered the recovery room.

"Congratulations mum and dad!" One of the nurses started.

"You have two healthy identical twin girls."

You couldn't believe it, no one could.

There was never a point during the nine months of pregnancy that would even suggest you having twins and now all of a sudden, your leaving the hospital with two twin girls.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear Kelly's conversation with the nurses.

"Kelly..." You looked at your husband who was just as shocked as you. "Kelly we have two babies."

"We have twin girls babe." Kelly emphasised, his stupid smile covering his entire face.

"We're not even prepared for one let alone two." You said, sitting up to pick one of them up. "Baby- oh my gosh, we have twins."

Before Kelly could reply, the room door opened and Matt poked his head in. "Knock Knock, can we-"

Matt stopped himself as he laid eyes on the baby on your chest and then the baby that was being picked up by Kelly.

"Matt, move out the way, let me see-" Sylvie barely stopped herself from squealing as she saw the two babies.

"Holy shit, twins?!" Matt half frowned, following Sylvie to your side. "When did this even happen?"

"Literally an hour ago man." Kelly said in greeting to his best friend. "No one had any idea."

"AH- two girls! Congratulations, oh my gosh I'm so happy for you guys." Sylvie gushed, cooing at the little bundles in your arms.

"Oh yeah, Jay and Hailey were somewhere behind us."

Another knock sounded just as the words came from Matt, the door creaking open for the blonde detective to make herself known.

"Y/N, hey-" Hailey gasped so loudly that Jay's swearing could be heard from inside the room.

"Woah." Jay's lack of words proved his surprise.

You and Kelly laughed.

"Well Kelly was right, they're girls."

Jay and Sylvie high-fived, their smirks making it evident they were on the winning side of the bet.

"This is definitely unexpected. I have no idea how we're going to manage." You said, handing one baby off to Hailey while Kelly lay the other into Matt's outstretched arms.

"That's what we're here for, along with the rest of 51 and Intelligence." Sylvie said, looking fondly at the baby in Matt's arms as she held your hand in both of hers comfortingly.

"You've got a very big family ready to help. We're first responders, it's our job."

You hugged the blonde, overcome with sudden emotion.

"Besides," Jay spoke up, gently taking the baby from Hailey's arms into his. "What godparents would we be?"

The room dissolved into laughter.

You had two adorable girls and an entire village at your beck and call. While unexpected, they were more than welcome with open arms and open hearts.

[whorekneecentral]

Holiday Greetings

Virgil Van Dijk x Fem!Reader

Warnings: holiday postcards bring together friends, old friends reconnect, falling out with family, virgil never gave up on the friendship, mentions of bad relationships, surprise visits, old habits die hard, wet dreams, sharing a bed, making dreams a reality, oral (m!receiving), sub!virg vibes for like 0.2 seconds, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, using of the word 'whore' in a sexual context, sweetness from the big man at the end.

Word Count: 2,934

Author's Note: again, so sorry for posting this late but y'all know the big man is my babyyyyy so hopefully you guys like this one as much as I do!

merry smutmas series

--

You send your old friend a Christmas card every year and when he sees that a certain someone was no longer in the picture, he pays you a long overdue visit. 

The world works in funny ways; the red string theory and what not, you find the people that were meant to be in your lives one way or another.

He just happened to always be your person.

You and Virgil were old friends, you grew up down the street from each other; your families were always interlinked, the two of you attached at the hip - from school to Virgil's football matches around the corner from the houses, you were together.

At 18, you upped and left Holland without so much as a warning; all Virgil received was a letter in the mail, letting him know that something had happened with your family and you could no longer stay there. He tried to get you to come home, telling you that his mom would be more than happy to have you with them, which was true but you assured him you'd be fine.

He never gave up, asking you again when he signed with the Celtic and then again when he was with Southampton and Liverpool.

Despite you not taking him up on his offers to move in, you always kept in contact with Virgil; you didn’t talk often, a happy birthday message or a message of congrats when things went well for his career.

You never fully settled until recently, moving from job to job, place to place. For a while, you didn't have an address, bouncing from Belgium to Germany and then Spain before you finally settled in Switzerland.

Regardless of your lack of address, you and Virgil kept up your tradition of sending holiday postcards. It was your yearly catch-up, but you and Virgil would send a card back-and-forth and write a little message on the back of it.

For the last few years, there has been an addition to your cards; first it was your puppy, Sammy and then over the last 3 years, your boyfriend, John.

Virgil had never personally met John, but based on your type in men, he could tell that John was no good for you. The first card he got with him in it, you were happy, smiling but as the years went on, there was still a smile but he knew you well enough to know you weren’t you. 

This year's card arrived early, the first week of December rather than the week before Christmas. Liverpool was wrapping up for the holidays as they'd be going on winter break. Virgil was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just you and Sammy on the card this year. He flipped it over to see what you had written on the back.

Dear Virg,

I don't have much to report this year; turned a year older, got a promotion and I bought a new car - yes I still have the old one, I cannot bring myself to trade/sell it.

I see that you've made some big moves, congratulations skipper! Proud doesn't begin to cover it and you know that I always said you'd make it big.

Hope all is well with you.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Yours always,

Y/n.

Virgil smiles, your words and card tucked safely back into the envelope it came in as he took his laptop out to look up something; flights to Switzerland.

He had some time between the end of the season and his return to Holland for the holidays. What better way to spend the time than to visit his favourite person in the world?

It had been years since he last saw you; frankly he hadn't seen you since you left all those years again but nothing's changed between you two. You were still y/n and Virgil - attached at the hip as always.

--

Switzerland was even colder as he expected it to be. Despite coming from cold, cold England, Virgil still felt as if he was underdressed.

The car parked at the curb as he checks the return address on your holiday card and the address he had put into google maps. Assuring himself he was at the right place, he got out and grabbed his bags, walking to the porch.

Christmas had always been your favourite holiday so to see your house decked out in decorations, lights and garland wasn't a big shocker. The little plaid doggie bed by the door was an assurance that he was in the right place - you had sent him a picture of Sammy in the same spot when you first adopted him.

Virgil shook off the nerves, knocking on the door. A part of him wanted to run away but another part of him couldn't wait to see you.

Sammy must have made it to the door before you, barking to alert you that someone was at the door. He could hear your voice, "shut your big mouth! I heard it!" You tell the dog, scooting him out of the way to open the door.

"He- what the fuck?" You passed, shocked to see who was at your front door.

"Is that how you greet everyone who comes to your house?" He asked you, a big smile on his face.

You laughed, setting your coffee mug on the entryway table, not saying anything but pulling Virgil into a bone crushing hug; it felt the same as it did all those years ago, it felt like home - he felt like home.

You stepped aside. "Please, come in. Make yourself at home."

Sammy runs over, jumping on Virgil. The man reached down to say hello to the dog, scratching behind his ear. You shut the door, noticing his bags. "Where are you staying?"

He glances at you, the same sly look on his face that you'd seen a million times before. "I was hoping I could stay here?"

You laughed, nodding. "Yeah, of course." You pulled Sammy away from Virgil for a minute, letting him take off his coat and walk into the house a bit more. "What the hell are you doing in Switzerland?" You asked him, sitting on the couch.

Virgil shrugged, joining you on the couch, "I came to see you, seemed like the right time to pay you a visit."

Just as well as Virgil knows you, you know him. You're certain he pieced together your break up and that's why he's here.

"You know you don't need to look after me, Virg. I'm not 15, I'm a big girl." You glance at your friend.

Virgil nods, his hand patting your thigh, "I'm not looking after you, y/n. I'm visiting my friend."

"Well in that case, how about dinner? My treat."

"Oh I'm the footballer and I don't have to pay for dinner? I should come visit more often." He jokes as you reach over his lap to the side table to get your phone.

It was as if no time had passed; you and Virgil comfortable in each other's space as if you were in your childhood bedrooms, giggling about the rumours at school or rerunning the tackles Virgil made on the pitch.

You settled on what to eat for dinner; a local place that made the best pizza on the planet, based on the fact that Virgil ate half the box, you'd say he agrees with your statement.

At some point throughout the night, you two shifted from spot to spot, just chatting about life. From the dining room table to the kitchen and finally back on the couch.

It was rather domestic and so easy for you two to slip into this little routine, even though Virgil had only been there for the evening. You're leaning on him, his arm over your shoulder with Sammy curled up on the other side of him, a movie playing quietly as you continued chatting.

"So do you like it?" You look at him and he nods. "Being captain is the dream come true. It's a great team, the place is so.. I don't think there's a word to explain how special it is to me and the guys.. we've got a fantastic team both on and off the pitch."

"That was such a PR response." You teased, laughing. Virgil smiles, pinching your shoulder softly.

"I'm going home after this, back to Breda. I'm there until new years and then it's back to Liverpool."

"That's nice," you smiled, "tell your mom I say hello."

Virgil laughs. "You can tell her yourself, she always tells me that you two are friends on Facebook."

"Don't diss your mom, dude! You're just hating because your mom is cooler than you and she gets to have me on Facebook and not you."

"I don't have Facebook, I'm not 67 years old."

"You shouldn't hate when you've got a big ass head like that."

"Shut up!" He laughed, smacking your arm softly. He sighs, glancing at you, "you should come home, it'd be nice to go home, no?"

"I.. I can't." You tell him, turning your attention back to the tv.

"Why not? It's been years, y/n. I'm sure your family wants to see you and so much has changed, don't you wanna see our home?"

"I can't, Virg. Not after what happened."

His brows furrowed, leaning back a bit to fully look at you. "What did happen, y/n? You never told me."

You shake your head, things were said that couldn't be taken back - none of which were your fault but no one ever seemed to care. Your family never reached out to apologize so you never did too.

Virgil looks at you, your silence was an answer in itself but he can't help but wonder what went wrong. He had asked his mom, knowing your mom and his were close, they often chatted and still do to this day but his mom never told him anything. She'd often remind him that if he doesn't know, it's because he's not meant to know.

He can't help but feel sad; not only for you but for him, for what could have been if you two had maybe gotten together, if maybe you had never left home.

You quietly get up, excusing yourself and heading up to your room. Virgil hadn't been your place before but in the short time he has been there, he figured out where things went. It was like a second home to him, he took it upon himself to clean up and take Sammy out before coming back in and locking up.

He makes his way up the stairs and knocks on the first door to the right, the same room that you occupied when you were at home.

Suppose old habits die hard.

"Y/n?" He knocks on the door, peeking into the room. "Can I come in?"

You nod, lying on your bed. Virgil lets himself in and sits next to you on the bed. You're on your side, your back to the man as you feel the weight of the mattress shift, his hand passing through your hair gently. You roll, now facing him and curling into his side.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into the silence of the room. "I didn't to upset you when I said-"

"You didn't," you cut him off. "It's just.. complicated is all."

Virgil shifts, now lying next to you and you move to rest your head on his chest. The two of you cuddled against one another, comfortably relaxing as you'd done a million times before when you were teenagers.

You're not sure when the minutes turned into hours but you had both fallen asleep.

The sound of Virgil's voice woke you from your slumber. You thought you heard him say something but when you glanced at the man, he was still fast asleep. You just assumed he was asleep and settled back into bed.

A few moments later, he makes a sound - a soft whimper.

You open your eyes to check on him again, trying to see if something was wrong and yet, he was still sleeping. You figured he was just dreaming.

You see make out his silhouette on the bed, the blanket tossed over Virgil as he shifted in his sleep. You can hear him mumble, you shake him softly. “Virg, you okay?” You ask when he groans. He rubs his eyes, confused for a moment.

“Y/n? What are you doing ?” He hadn’t realized the blanket had slipped down when he sat up. You glance down and you instantly look away. “Oh uh, sorry.”

He was confused for a moment, he looked down and he pulled the blanket back up, his cheeks red and shy. “Sorry! I didn’t realize-”

“It’s okay,” you glance at him. “It happens. I didn't mean to wake you, it's just.. I heard my name and you were, well, groaning." You trailed off, Virgil's cheek burning hot as he looked anywhere but at you.

It takes you a second but you connect the dots. Between the hard cock hidden away under the blanket and the avoidance of his glance, you realized why he was calling your name.

“Oh,” you breathe, “um, if you want.. I can help you with that if you want.”

Virgil seemed shocked by your offer, his eyes widened. "What?"

"I mean, it was obvious you were dreaming of me, Virg. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah but.. this is different."

Your hand rests on his thigh, “not really, I'm just helping you with it.”

Virgil shifts in the bed, suddenly feeling a bit shy and he can’t help but think about what you’d look like on your knees, looking up at him. He nods, “oh-okay.”

“Yeah?” You ask, looking at him. Virgil nods once more, slowly moving the blanket off his lap. You shift to lay between his legs, pulling his cock out of his boxers.

He watches as your lips wrap around his cock, tongue running over the tip. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling it away from your face as you lean down all the way, taking all of him into your mouth.

Your cheeks hollow around him, Virgil's hips buck at the feeling. A half smile playing on your lips when you glance up at him. You can see the red on his cheeks, the way his eyes follow you every move, watching as your head bobbed up and down, your cheeks hallowed around him.

It had been months, if not longer since he’d been with anyone like this; every time he even dared touch himself, you were the thought on his mind. It was like he was a teenager again, crushing on you and just wishing you'd make the first move because as confident as he was on the pitch, he was far too shy to make the move on you.

He'd be lying if he said he never imagined what it would feel like, what you would look like, how you'd make him feel.

It didn’t take long; your hand sliding up his torso and your lips wrapped around him, tongue pressed to the underside of his cock. Virgil's hips buck once more, you can feel him at the back of your throat.

He pushes you off of him, your brows furrow. "What? Something wrong?" You asked him, your tongue passing over your bottom lip, tasting him.

The sight of that alone makes his cock twitch.

"I wanna feel you," he whispers and you can't help the smile on your face.

You let Virgil pull you up for a kiss, tasting himself on your lips as he undressed you. Slowly, a pile of clothes ends up on the floor and you're on all fours. The man's behind you and your back arches, the curve of your spine evident when he drags his finger along it.

Virgil pushes into you, his name falling from your lips. “God, please Virg, like that,” the words tumble out, begging him for more as he fucks you. 

His hands squeezing your hips, nails digging into your flesh. Your hand reaching under you, fingers barely reaching to rub your clit. 

He pulls you up, his arm wrapped around your neck, your back pressed to his chest. His fingers dig into the side of your neck for a moment, squeezing you a bit. 

The two of you facing the mirror in your room, “look pretty girl,” he whispers into your ear, “look how pretty you looked all fucked out.” 

Your eyes open, looking at the screen in front of you. his eyes meet yours, and you smile. “You’re such a whore,” he hums, chuckling. 

Between the angle you were at and his hand sliding down to rub on your clit, your head drops back onto his shoulder, begging him to let you cum. 

Your eyes find him in the mirror and you don’t even have to say anything, he knows exactly what you’re saying. 

“Shh, it’s okay sweetheart, I know.” He tells you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

The two of you in sync, Virgil's chest pressed to your back as you came down from your orgasm. He peppered kisses all over your back, rubbing your side softly. He leans to press a kiss to your neck before pulling out slowly. 

You're flat on your stomach, catching your breath when Virgil moves off of you and shifts to next to you. His arm rests over your back, rubbing your skin soft. "You okay?" He asks quietly.

Glancing at him, you smile. "Perfect."

Virgil smiles, leaning over to kiss you.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[clockways]

After undergrad, I was done living with people. People didn’t turn off alarm clocks or clean up their messes or, perhaps, people even blamed you for their mental breakdown. I had had enough of people.

But I couldn’t live alone.

Luckily, I knew the perfect solution. See, other than the semesters of undergrad, I had always lived with cats. There were also dogs and hamsters and reptiles, but cats were the constant. It was a noble line going all the way back to Yoda, whom my mother got to be her cat in college.

It was only the start of summer, and I was already surreptitiously walking past the adoption area of the pet store. It was a good thing I did.

There in the cage, the only animal in the whole adoption area, was a tiny kitten. As soon as he saw me, he started to meow and kneed and reach through the bars. It was probably as close to love at first sight as I will ever get.

After finding out when adoption was and leaving and coming back at what was the wrong time and talking to the kitten through the glass—I finally was able to hold him.

He was perfect.

This little kitten with brown so deep it was black and a white underside and a very pink nose settled right into my arms and purred up a storm. I adopted him then and there.

Depressingly, with this adoption center, the little boy had to go back to get sniped before I could take him home. I often joked that the poor guy never had a lick of testosterone in his body with how early it all happened. (That didn’t stop in from growing into quite a tall, long cat, mind you.)

While he came home without his balls, he also came home with a kitten cold. My poor little perfect boy was sick to the point that he could die. Cats, if you didn’t know, don’t eat if they can’t smell. Stinky food was bought, force feeding was attempted, and in the end it was some Vick’s in hot water that cleared his sinuses up enough to eat.

Now that he was well, it was finally time to find the right name. Name is a process in my family. In rather reverse fae rules, by giving the pets the right name, they are cemented as family. My mother even adds them to the family bible.

This boy took two tries.

His first name was Underwood as you see, once he got is energy back, he was constantly walking across my lap and the laptop that had a pretty permanent place in it. My friends swiftly got used to getting ‘kitten messages’ sent to them. Annoyingly, some of the same friends wouldn’t stop calling him Carrie, even after I asked them not to, and I decided that I wasn’t going to put up with that for the next fourteen plus years.

As he was my ‘squirmy worm’ for his lack of desire to be held and ability to pop right out of a hold due to his silky fur, I combined the two and, finally, he found his right name of Wormwood. (This also, unbeknownst at the time, started the naming convention for my next two cats.)

Wormwood and I went off to graduate school not much later. The old but passable apartment I was in had a (rather shoddily) screened in porch. It became Worm’s favorite spot to sit, even in the middle of Texas heat.

Paper balls were discovered to be his favorite thing, followed by very tiny pompoms. If I was ignoring him, he’d knock my remote off my table to play. Even with that playing, I often joked that Worm was my semi mobile throw pillow. He loved to lounge and nap to the extreme, even for a cat.

Worm never wanted other cats in his life, though he managed to accept Bugsy—my Siamese mutt—into our home in time, though Worm never ceded the foot of the bed to him. Together, we three moved back in with my parents (to total a too many five cats) until I could afford my own place. Worm had to suffer through another new brother, Beetle, about three years ago. Then not quite two years ago we moved to a new state.

All three boys did wonderful on the very long drive, and I like to think that it was worth it because of the fabulous sunroom in the new house. All of them had their favorite spots to sit out there and soak up the sun.

This winter, Worm took a turn. He dropped some weight while I was gone on a trip. I got him a heated bed that became his very favorite thing in the whole house. He would just melt into it.

Then it got worse.

I took him to the vet, and he had gone from about fifteen pounds down to five and a half. Blood work was clean though, so we increased his food and changed some things around.

Tueaday he was quite ill.

Wednesday was the first time there was a moment where he wasn’t there mentally. It felt like it was going to be time.

Thursday, today, I found him laying in a sunbeam. He didn’t even ask for food. At eleven today I took him to the vet. For about an hour before I held him, resting against my chest, and the two of us sat in the sun, listening to the birds.

I think he was ready to rest. He hardly moved at the vet during the shot and then… then he was gone.

And I had to leave him.

For sixteen years, nearly half my life, he has been my family and one of my best friends. I would have been so lost without him. I’m so sad to have to say goodbye, but I’m glad that he can rest now.

I’m glad that it was a pretty day and that we got to sit in the sun together and listen to the birds.

[teag-writes]

Teachers Pet

guess who's back!! me!! yay!! umm another request from my pookie bear @etherealhozier so thank her for this one! (also apologies for the unoriginal ass title, i couldnt think of anything else so yeah!!)

cw: age gap (20 sumthing years idk i cant do math!), pet names, thigh riding, cumming on leg (yum), i think thats it!!

You knew from a small age you wanted to catch “bad guys” for a living. Which is why immediately after you graduated high school, you had already enrolled in one of the criminal behavioural classes at the college you attended, as one of your main classes.  

After about a month of being at your university, you had settled in quite nicely as you got to know all of your teachers and other classmates. Now the love for criminal activity and all things crime being the main reason you were attending college, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in your way. 

Until you saw him. Dr. Reid, or more formally known as the FBI agent turned professor, was the one who taught you and everyone else all about the interesting subject. He was tall, slender and had dark hair, and even darker eyes like he was hiding something. The way he talked so passionately about his life in the BAU made your stomach swirl. 

You knew this was completely wrong, having a crush on a man who was at least in his mid 40s, while you were in your early 20s. It almost disgusted you, the things you thought of letting him do to you, bending you over and smack-

“(Y/n). Are you paying attention?” A stern but quiet voice interrupted your daydreams as you looked at the man in front of you. 

“Yes sir. Sorry.” You said embarrassed. If he could read minds, you’d sure as hell be in a lot of trouble. 

He pursed his lips at you, forming a smile and giving you a nod and continued teaching. You groaned quietly, knowing this would be a long semester. 

—————————

After class, you’d packed your things up and were about to head off to your dorm for study time, when you were halted by a call of your name. 

“(Y/n). Can I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor had caught you red handed and you knew you were done for as you walked over to his desk, after he shut the door. 

“Your attention span has been decreasing lately. Is everything at home okay? Anyone bothering you?” He seemed genuinely concerned for you as he asked you. 

“No sir. Everything’s fine. I’m just… it’s hard to pay attention in class.” Your tone slipped out more seductive than it should’ve and you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t care less. Spencer swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you spoke to him. 

“Oh? Why’s that (y/n)? I’m not boring you, am I?” He said with a raspy laugh that made your stomach flip. 

“No, not at all sir. If anything,” you said looking him up and down. “It’s quite the opposite.” 

You were so nervous with what you were doing right now that you felt like throwing up. You took a step closer to the man in front of you and looked at him. 

“No. Stop.” He whispered out. “This is utterly inappropriate and so, so wrong.” He stopped you in your tracks and you started at him with embarrassment and guilt. 

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out the door, Spencer yelling after you but you didn’t turn back. 

That night in your dorm, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened as you got so frustrated with yourself. But within a few seconds, an idea popped into your head. If he really wanted you, you’d have to make him show you. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

—————————

The next day for class, you’d almost forgotten about what had happened when you remembered your plan. Make him want you. You thought to yourself if this was really what you wanted to do, yet you went through with the plan. You jumped out of your current skirt and replaced it with another, shorter, smaller one as you did the same with your shirt. You popped open the first few buttons and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders, and decided to go with a dark red lipstick, with well as a pair of heels as you walked to class. 

Everyone had their eyes on you. Teachers, students, hell, everyone was gawking at you in awe. Whispers of shock fled peoples mouths as you walked into class and took a seat. You sat front row, as you always do, and waited for class to begin. The moment Spencer walked in, you stopped breathing, remembering that this was all for him. 

“Good morning class…” Spencer trailed off of his sentence as he saw you, and let out a choked cough.  “Pardon me, I must’ve had something in my throat. Please take out your notebooks, we will be talking notes today.” The whole entire time Spencer was speaking, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. And that continued throughout the whole lesson. 

By the time class was done, everyone had made their way out as you remained last again, trying to pack up quickly when an angry seeming voice halted you once again. 

“(Y/n). We need to talk.” Spencer didn’t seem impressed at all, but that only filled you with more lust. You gave him a warm, innocent smile and sat back down as he closed his door again. 

“Is something wrong, Dr?” You batted your eyelashes at Spencer and you hated every second of it, but you needed him. 

“Don’t call me that.” He had a furious look on his face, as he stepped closer towards you. “What’s going on with you today? The makeup and clothes, I mean.” 

You playfully spoke back to him as he asked you a question. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He groaned as you spoke to him, tipping his head back slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). You know what you’re doing.” 

He lunged forward to you and grabbed your wrist, hard but not too hard. 

“Is it working, Dr?” You purred back at him, and that only made things worse as he gently put his hand around your neck. 

“Yes. Yes it is, (y/n). Your little “whore” getup makes me sick. God, you don’t know what you do to me.” He said growling back at you. As he continued his grip on your neck, another hand made its way down to your legs and stopped at your heat. 

“Fucking soaked. Bet you’ve thought about this hm? Me pinning you against this wall and fucking you raw?” 

You moaned at his harsh, lustful words as he continued circling your clit through your panties. His grip tightened when you didn’t answer, making you squeal loudly. 

“Answer me. Have you thought about this, (y/n)? 

“Yes.” Was all you managed to breathe out. 

“Atta girl.” He praised you as he let go of your neck, sitting back down his desk chair. You stared at him with confusion, not knowing what to do. 

“C’mere.” He patted his thigh and motioned you to come sit on his lap. You immediately complied, straddling yourself right over his bulge, making you gasp. 

“If you want this so bad, you’ll get off on my thigh while I grade these papers.” He cooed gently at you, moving the hair out of your face. The angry man that was there seconds ago, was now gone. You whimpered at his command, as you knew you were going to have to work for it. 

“I know baby, I know. You’ll be okay.” He praised softly, as he leaned in for a kiss. You let his tongue swipe yours, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. He pulled apart from the kiss and you groaned at the loss of contact. 

“I know you wanted me to fuck you, but there’s consequences when you come into my office dressed like that. I’m being nice and at least letting you get off, hm? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t even be mad at him, his sweet tone had taken complete control over you. You started moving your hips against his leg, slowly and painfully, eliciting a moan from your lips that only made him twitch under you. You slowly started to speed up your movements, already feeling your muscles spasm over his cock. His hands made their way from the papers on his desk to your hips, moving them expertly against his leg. He saw that you were getting tired, so he naturally bucked his leg repeatedly into your wet cunt. 

The familiar coil in your stomach began to break apart and you came tortuously hard on his leg with a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. He bucked his leg into you again, riding you through your orgasm as you let out sweet little whimpers. 

“Shh shh, I’ve got you baby. It’s okay. Good girl.” All the little praises he mumbled to you made you needy enough to come again, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sit there with your head on his shoulder, all fucked out because of him. 

[femalefemur]

1. Captains and Cabins.

warnings: mentions of child abuse, mentions of child death, mentions of murder, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of skeletons, mentions of desecrating graves, mentions of piss, please let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: Kyle, Simon, Johnny and you have volunteered at a summer camp, you've arrived a week early to help with preparations, what could go wrong?

A/N: I am aware that summer camps are not a thing in the UK, I'm also not American so I have no idea if this is accurate, summer camps are also not a thing where I live but camping with other groups are.

“There’s a legend that the camp is haunted, they say that the guy who originally owned this place went crazy and killed all the counsellors one night while they were asleep. Snapped, just like that” Johnny snapped his fingers to emphasise his point as he spoke, a grin spread across his handsome face. 

“Shut up, he did not, that’s just a story kids tell to scare each other” Kyle rolled his eyes as he carried a box into the hall and placed it down with the others. 

“He did too! How else do you explain them all disappearing?” Johnny frowned as he crossed his arms and pouted at the taller man. 

“They probably just got lost in the woods, probably went for a hike and didn’t stay on the path or something. These woods are huge so it’s pretty easy to get lost in them even now, imagine back then when they only had paper maps” Kyle rolled his eyes as he mirrored Johnny’s stance. 

“Whatever,” Johnny rolled his eyes back and turned his attention back to you “don’t listen to him bonnie, the guy definitely went crazy.” “Sure,” you laughed as you looked at them both “I have to say Kyle’s story sounds more plausible than a guy suddenly went crazy and killed everyone” you shrugged as you left the hall to bring in another box, the two men trailing behind you and bickering about what really happened.

The Camp that they were arguing about was the very camp that you were currently at, Camp 141. You had been hired as a camp counsellor for the summer along with your three best friends, Kyle, Johnny and Simon. The three of you were inseparable since you had met in high school and that friendship had carried over into your adult years. 

The four of you had been through it all, helped Simon leave his abusive home, been there for him when his family died, held his hands at the cemetery as he cried at his mother and brother’s grave. You had all watched him piss on his piece of shit father’s grave that very night, hell you’d even helped him smash the headstone and every one after that until they finally stopped replacing it. You’d all been there when Johnny’s family kicked him out for coming out as bisexual, taking him into your homes with open arms, just as you’d all taken Simon in. Been there when Kyle started feeling the pressure of getting into a good university. You’d reminded him to sleep and eat, dragged his fingers away from his mouth when he’d started to bite his nails down to the quick from the stress of it all.

You’d all moved in together into a flat half-way between Oxford and London when you had all finally graduated high school, free to finally escape your small town and leave behind the bad memories. Kyle’s rigorous studying had paid off and he’d been accepted into Oxford University, and Simon, Johnny and you had been accepted into various universities across London. None of you minded the commute as long as it meant you could stay together, your little found family. That all led to the present, you had all graduated university a good few years ago, settled into your jobs and moved together into an infinitely better flat, now that you all had a much better and stable income. 

It was Simon’s idea to volunteer as camp counsellors for the summer, he’d said it would be good for you all to get away from the city for a bit and be close to nature. Though you suspected that he wanted to do something for the children, the camp was for children aged thirteen to fourteen which placed them around the age that Simon’s brother was when he passed. After the three of you had sat around the dining table and looked at every inch of the brochure you’d all happily agreed, not that any of you needed convincing, not with the way Simon’s face had lit up when he talked about the camp. So you’d all taken time off and found yourselves packing into Johnny’s 4WD for the long trip up north to the camp, arriving a week before it was set to open to the children to help set up. 

The camp director hadn’t been there when you’d all arrived, but he had left a note explaining that he’d had to make a trip into town for some last minute hardware supplies. He had also left instructions to bring in the boxes from the storage shed and into the main hall, along with where your counsellors' cabins were and told you to make yourselves at home. You’d all worked tirelessly for the whole afternoon, bringing the boxes in and unpacking the various supplies and activities from them, the thought of children happily following along with the activities making you smile. Your childhoods may not have been the best but you sure as hell could make these children’s childhoods a good one, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. 

“Where do you think the director is?” You had sat down outside on the steps up to the main hall, a cold bottle of water in your hands as you relaxed. 

“Who knows, should have definitely been back by now” Simon frowned as he glanced at the setting sun on the horizon, shades of pink and orange painting the sky as he leaned back on his arms and tapped his boot against yours, a silent “I love you.”

The director still hadn’t returned by nightfall and you’d all made yourselves right at home, settling into the cabin before exploring the kitchen and making dinner. You’d finally settled in for the night, showered away the grime and sweat of the day before slipping into a comfortable pair of cotton sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Kyle. It had already been oversized on him and on you it was even larger, it also somehow still smelled of him no matter how many times it got washed, the warm scent of musk, honey and oud clinging to the fibres of the fabric. 

“You know they say he used to be a SAS Captain” Johnny spoke as he lay on his bunk bed and scrolled on his phone before Kyle smacked it out of his hand and onto his face.

“Stop talking about that, we really don’t need to hear about a murderous camp director right before we go to bed at said camp” Kyle scowled as he was hit in the face with Johnny’s pillow. 

“Someone scared?” Johnny teased him as he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “He’s right, it’s just unsettling to hear about it right before bed” You huffed as you watched the two play wrestle and laugh, snuggling in further under the covers while Simon joined in on the wrestling. 

“Am just saying that he could have snapped, probably saw a lot of shit as a Captain, and it could have gotten to him” Johnny shrugged as the three of them lay sprawled out after the wrestling. “Probably knew how to kill them quietly and hide the bodies too” he kept speaking, “maybe they’re buried under the floorboard” Johnny laughed as your pillow hit his face.

“Please shut up, I don’t need to think about sleeping on top of literal dead bodies” You frowned at him as you picked your pillow up and tucked it back under your head, closing your eyes in hopes that you would fall asleep soon and not dream of skeletons or murderers. Failing to notice the shadow that passed by the window behind the men.

[zerokurokawa]

Can I request a jealous rindou ignoring the reader? Then they makes up for it?? thank you!

Jealous Rindou X Reader | Uncanny Tutoring Sessions

You had been spending a lot of time with a guy studying that seriously needed some tutoring. He was failing every class and since you were the top of your class, the teacher had asked you to tutor him so he wouldn’t have to spend his days in summer school.

Rindou was okay with it at first, but this soon became an everyday thing. The tutoring sessions would last for hours considering the guy just simply wasn’t grasping the materials that you have been teaching him. As for a matter of fact, it was obvious that the guy liked you. He was constantly flirting with you and trying to get your number, even when you insisted that you had a boyfriend.

You even told Rindou about this, and he didn’t take it very well – threatening to kick the guy's ass if he didn’t lay off. He had wanted you to stop the tutoring sessions immediately but since you were doing it for extra credit, you couldn’t.

This led to Rindou being seriously jealous. He soon began to ignore your calls and text messages along with not coming over after school. Since you were in your senior year of school, Rindou had made a habit of picking you up everyday and going and doing something. The tutoring sessions had gotten in the way of that, and now Rindou was pissed.

After days of not hearing a word from Rindou, you finally muster up the courage to go and talk to him at his apartment that he shared with his brother. You knocked on the door and Ran answered.

“Hey y/n, Rindou is in his room.” He said nonchalantly as he went to go lay back down on the couch, watching his favorite TV show. You nodded your head and walked your way to Rindou’s room to find the door cracked.

“Hey… Why are you ignoring me?” You asked, while opening and closing the door all the way to give you both some privacy. He continued not to speak, just turning his face towards his computer and ignoring you fully.

You spoke again, “Rin, please answer me,” as you sat down on his bed, trying to think of ways to get his attention. Rindou plugged up his headphones and began to listen to the mixes he had been making. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk to you out of pure jealously of this other guy.

You got up and stormed out, thinking he would chase after you, but didn’t. On the way home, you passed a record store and saw that they had a new stereo system that Rindou had been wanting for his room. That’s when you got the bright idea to go inside, buy the sound system, and bring it back to his apartment.

You walked clean into his room and plopped it on the bed, gesturing a confused Rindou to open the box. As he did, his jaw dropped in amazement.

“Now tell me, why have you been ignoring me?” You asked once more.

“You’ve been spending all of your time with that loser guy friend of yours. I can’t fucking stand seeing you with him or anybody else.” He said as he opened the box to reveal the new stereo system.

“Does this make up for the fact that I was spending too much time with another guy?” You asked, hoping he would make amends with you.

“Not quite, but it’ll do.” He smirked as he walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around you and started pecking your neck with kisses. You knew where this would lead, and ultimately, it did.

Now that you two have made up, Rindou made a point for you to stop the tutoring sessions as they were getting a little out of hand and you made Rindou promise to communicate his desires and jealously instead of ignoring you from now on.

"Now, shall we continue where we left off?" He smirked again.

(A/N: I hope you like it anon!! It's so early here)

[octuscle]

Gym Motivation

Lord knows Michael wasn't one of the little guys. He had an impressive body for a 17-year-old. But after going through a growth spurt with a decent weight gain, his weight stagnated. Despite lifting iron at least three times a week for two to three hours at the gym, he had gained maybe a pound in the last two months. It was frustrating. It was most frustrating when Vlad was working out. Vlad was barely older than Michael. Maybe 22 or 23 years old. But Vlad was a colossus. The ground shook under his steps. The air shook when he performed the last repetition with a shout at the end of a set. And the air was thick with fresh and old sweat when he walked through the gym. Vlad rarely spoke to any of the other visitors to the gym. Mostly to gain access to the dumbbells or some piece of equipment. Never had anyone dared to not make room for Vlad immediately.

"Little brother, are you going to be here much longer?" Vlad's booming bass with its heavy Slavic accent went through Michael's entire body. The colossus stood behind the barbell bench, the bulge of his cock just above Michael's head. Michael's throat went dry, and not just because of the smell of sweat and musk. He shook his head. Vlad added a 20-pound plate on either side of the barbell bar without being asked. "I'm going to help you get big, little brother. Come on, ten reps." Michael gave it his all, embarrassing himself in front of his idol was out of the question. With a loud cry, he set the dumbbell down after the tenth repetition. He had never lifted such a weight before. Vlad added 50 kg twice, gestured for Michael to get up, and laid himself down on the barbell bench. "You help when Vlad can't anymore." Michael nodded, even though he knew he had no chance of catching that weight if needed. But Vlad didn't need any help, either.

It was 10:30 p.m. when the janitor switched the lights to emergency and told them he was locking up in fifteen minutes. The gym was deserted. Michael was exhausted. Vlad stripped off his sweaty tank top and did a double biceps pose in front of the mirror. "Good workout, but now Vlad horny." He pulled the waistband of his workout shorts down and his boner jumped up like a jack-in-the-box. Michael didn't need to think, he got on his knees and sucked the fattest balls he had ever seen. And after a few minutes Vlad cummed his massive load into Michael's face. After that he turned around without a word and left. Completely alone in the studio, Michael took off his T-shirt and used it to wipe everything he hadn't been able to swallow out of the corners of his mouth. He also did a double biceps pose. And he was convinced that he had gained mass.

At 06:30, Michael woke up. Fuck, those had been wild dreams. Wet dreams. His boxers, pubic hair, and the Treasury Trail between his abs were cum-encrusted. Michael did three sets of pushups and three sets of situps and went to the bathroom. Before showering, he did another double biceps pose. The workout yesterday had really paid off. Michael loved the bush in his armpits. For a senior in high school, he really had plenty of body hair.

Michael skipped shaving for once today. He was running late as it was. As he gulped down his protein shake and lean curds, his mother reminded him that today was her mother's birthday. Michael loved his baba. But talking to her on the phone was exhausting. Despite her American husband, she had never learned to speak English properly. And Michael had learned little Bulgarian from his mother. But a "Happy Birthday" she would understand. Because of the time difference, Michael made the call right on the way to school.

It was hard to concentrate at school. Michael scribbled pictures of massive mounds of muscle with huge dicks in his notebooks. And he couldn't wait to get back to the gym. Even though he knew Vlad was never here this early, he was disappointed not to hear the colossus' groan as he entered the Gym at 5:00 PM. Motivated by yesterday's workout, Michael put on more weights than he usually did. And he also felt stronger than usual. And while he proudly lifted 280 kg on the leg press, he took in the scent of clenched manhood behind him. "Little brother, are you warming up? Hold on, let me put some weights on." And though he needed all the blood in his legs, Michael got a boner.

At 10:30 p.m., Vlad dropped his barbell with a crash after the last set. "Come on, little brother!" he said, heading toward the locker room. Again, the gym was deserted. And again Vlad's monstrous cock popped out of his pants. "No blowjob today, fuck today!" Michael could hardly wait. Never before had a man fucked him. And never had he felt like he did the moment Vlad shot his load. Vlad caught the cum dripping from Michael's ass with his calloused hands and made Michael lick his hands like a dog. And with his hands still wet from spit and cum, Vlad jerked Michael off afterwards. And massaged the load Michael had cum on his chest into his stomach and pecs with vigorous movements. "Gives hair on chest" grinned Vlad.

When Mikael woke up the next morning, he could already smell fresh pitki. This meant that his mother was once again homesick for her hometown Sofia. Mikael knew that. Then she hummed Bulgarian folk songs all day, spoke only Bulgarian to him and his father (which was less difficult for Mikael, who had grown up bilingual, than for his father), and cooked oodles of Bulgarian home cooking. Oh well, Mikael thought to himself as he washed down his breakfast with a gallon of protein shake, Vlad will be pleased. Because, as usual, his mother had packed a large portion of pitki for his colleague.

Of course, his father would have preferred it if Mikael had gone to college and studied law as well. But maybe he would do that again. So go to college and study mechanical engineering. But right now, he wanted nothing more than to fix truck engines. He and Vlad were a well-rehearsed and unbeatable team. And if the two of them could work bare-chested, they were even better. At least according to their own convictions. Especially on a Friday, when the weekend was already within reach. At 3:00 p.m., the two beefcakes swapped their mechanic overalls for sweatshorts and tank tops and headed to the gym.

Those who regularly worked out at the gym knew the two beefcakes and knew that it got loud when they lifted weights. And they also knew that the smell the two gave off could have a numbing as well as an aphrodisiac effect. And those who knew the two better knew that on Fridays they both ended their workouts with a sauna session. No wonder that, apart from Mikael's and Vlad's regular place, the sauna was full at 8:00 pm. Not a few hoped to be allowed to blow one of the two or even to be fucked by them. But also today Vlad cum in Mikael's face. And Mikael in Vlad's.

Also on Saturday morning Mikhail's and Vlad's day started early. In their father's trucking company, they worked around the clock. Their parents taught them on a daily basis that as Bulgarian immigrants they had to work harder than anyone else. And Mikail and Vlad worked harder than any of their employees. One of their drivers had dropped out and Vlad had to fill in. That sucked. That meant that their joint training was cancelled today. On the other hand, Mikhail was happy if he got a chance to catch up with his big brother. He would also work out harder than everyone else at the gym today.

And there was one more advantage to working out alone: He had the free choice of which bro from the gym would be allowed to suck his sweaty balls and cock afterwards.

Inspiration for the story by @windysidewalk. Pic of Mikhail found @woolf200

[adachimoe]

If this guy had just been a magician then we wouldn't be dealing with this shit

During one of his Social Link rank ups, Adachi implies some things about his career. I know, I know, he said "I became a cop because GUNS". But also: he's a dumbass.

Thus far, the player has only seen Adachi being a bumbling moron running away from a little old lady at Junes. But we see a side of him we haven't seen before: It turns out that he has sleight of hand and he's quite good at performing magic tricks.

He doesn't think he could have made a living if he had gone into a profession working with his hands, even if he does demonstrate that he's good at it. He does acknowledge that his life might have been different. And when fiction does things like this, we in the audience know that the unspoken implication is that he would be a lot happier this way.

Adachi doesn't exactly try to hide how much he hates his life. But, at the same time, it's not like he tries to do much to change it. Part of it we see in his rank 6 social link when he talks about how "I'm lonely, but it's easier that way". But another part of it is that by being a police officer instead of a magician or something else, he gets to work at a government job. Job security certainly contributes to one's quality of life.

But I think there is something else worth noting about this, and it's based entirely off the year Adachi was born - 1984. (Insert the "literally 1984" calendar meme image here.)

Adachi was born when Japan's economy was flourishing and the Yen was quite strong. Based on the timing, I think his parents had a kid under the assumption that, "Japan is prosperous, the Yen is powerful, things are great, everyone has money, or other valuable assets (stock/land)". If you've played Yakuza 0, this might vaguely sound familiar when it comes to Kiryu's story and his adventures in real estate.

This is a hilariously bad and overly simplified explanation, but it wasn't until the year after Adachi was born when the country and the bank began having economic issues. This eventually lead to the big blow up in the early 90s, stock and real estate nosedived, and the whole country went into a period of economic stagnation called the Lost Decades.

During Japan's period of growth, the country was seen as a powerhouse. My dad remembers when Japanese tourists were traveling all over due to strong yen - really a reversal of how it is now with people flocking to Japan due to how weak it is. People there would get a job and be set for life. While this was thanks to their economy and the assumption that "Wow, we have a lot of $$ in land and/or stocks, things are great", the "hired for life" thing can also be seen as being tied to Japanese labor laws. This changed after the economy exploded, and some companies began taking on temp workers who had less rights and less protections.

If you start to compare Adachi's situation and birth year to the main cast, it's really no wonder they make him so damn mad and frustrated lol.

Yukiko and Kanji can inherit their family businesses. Their families aren't wealthy, but they have stable businesses they operate out of their family homes. They can inherit both land and jobs.

In Yukiko's Social Link, she talks about getting licensed as an interior coordinator as a backup in case the ryokan doesn't work out... Hm, I think learning that she even has options would piss Adachi off further lol.

Naoto I am under the impression is doing well since she already has a career as a detective, plus the backing of her grandfather.

Yosuke's family doesn't own Junes, but his dad is the manager at the Inaba store, and nepotism is a thing. But it seems that he too has options, as in Ultimax, he's going to cram school so he can go to university.

Rise already has a career. Unfortunately, it's part of Japan's terrible and exploitive idol industry.

Even Marie has a career, it seems.

One can assume that if Adachi's parents got on his ass if his grades dropped, then Adachi does not stand to inherit something from his parents (or perhaps their assets lost value?), nor is he already successful.

Chie feels like the outlier here. From what we know about her, her parents don't have a business she can inherit, no famous grandfather, she's not a popular idol, and she doesn't have Main Character privilege. We also know from her Social Link that she wants to become an officer like Adachi.

Really, I think Adachi is too young to have grown up on promises of some kind of prosperous future thanks to Japan's strong economy, merely to have the rug pulled out from under him and have his dreams crushed in 1991 (he'd only be 7, after all). So where Chie might optimistically see the ability to help and protect people as an officer, Adachi might see stability and survival because of his parents and how they raised him and the economic situation.

"Don't be a magician, get a secure job" is something our parents would tell us in the west too, so maybe it doesn't seem that special or related to their economic situation at all. Pretty sure his folks would say it to him even if he was born some 10-15 years earlier. But I think it does help illustrate why he would pick security (or why his parents picked security for him), his failure case (have fun being a replaceable temp worker while waiting for your big break as a magician), and what some of his ire towards the Investigation Team is about (he had to study; why do they get to go kill god after school???). In some ways, he feels like an American millennial whose life was affected by economic circumstance, but everything that comes out of his mouth makes him sound a boomer lol. Get off my dungeon lawn, you damn kids.

[dummie-writes]

the party walkers

self insert .✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 2.21k

next part: a rescue mission

note: hot minute, hey guys, this is my first time writing for school bus graveyard! currently, it's probably my favorite webtoon (that being said, all my other favorites are on hiatus, so, yk. that's that.) if you followed me for genshin one shots, I just wanna let you know I'm NOT gonna stop writing them, permanently at least. I haven't been able to fixate on genshin for a bit because the app is too big for my phone and trying to play on my computer kills me inside. hope you enjoy, also things prooobably aren't gonna be perfect, lol, I'm going off memory of the first chapter/s

content: self insert for sbc, uh, go read that first, I don't think I'll end up including anything (at least, not here) that needs extra trigger warnings. long term, it's a tyler x reader, maybe, idk, but regardless I don't plan on starting that for a bit.

i. a demon inside of my skin

you hadn't been in "the room where it happened", so to speak. actually, you didn't know what everyone else was dealing with for about a week after savannah, because you thought you were having batshit crazy nightmares! your hotel room was a good bit further away from everyone else's that first night, and after making a run for it into a room and barricading yourself in, you thought that would be the end of it. everyone did, didn't they?

and then, you went home. warm bed, soft blanket, box fan running in the background while you scrolled through various social media apps. it was nearing midnight, but that wasn't new for you. the early morning hours were your friend, the moon a sibling by your teenage years. not unique, sure, but that was the reality of that situation. a small shiver tickles your spine as you remember the night mare last night brought you, your fingertips ghosting the spot on your knuckle where you had banged it and broken your finger in that dream. it was even sore when you woke up. sometimes, nightmares were like that though. sometimes people woke up gasping for air after drowning in their sleep, or craving cigars after being a smoker in their dreams. sore knuckles weren't that far off.

it was like a flash; one moment, you were watching a college aged blonde talk about the type of oils she used for her long, silky, soft hair, and the next, the sky from out your window was a bleeding carmine. there was a loud silence, no wind, no rain, no box fan or phone.

then, again, you heard it. click, click, click. chatter, chatter, chatter. okay. cool. another nightmare. fun and fantastic.

shooting out of your sheets, your index finger throbbed, sparing a second and glancing at it revealed purple spots upon green bruises splotched along your hand. curling your finger inward hurt, but was possible. making a fist around your blanket, you threw it as hard as possible off of you, hoping to distract whatever was making the noise. it did not have the desired affect, and flew a couple feet before expanding and landing softly on the floor. that didn't matter, you were already on your feet and they were thudding to your door before you were aware of what was going on, scrambling on the carpet of your bedroom as you heard skitter like movements from where your eyes couldn't catch the gray, uncanny human-like figure making its way toward you on all fours. it was fast. way, way too fast. the undignified squeal you released as you yanked open your door turned into a gravelly scream of both terror and agony when you slid through, slamming the door shut before you, a blackened finger along with it. it didn't fall to the floor, but instead was hanging painfully out of your back, right under your shoulder blade. like a when a plank of wood splinters, but has enough fibers to hang off and out of the main piece and bobs back and forth. except you're not a piece of wood, and you have to not scream right now.

you feel nausea drinking its way into your chest, but adrenaline pushes it to a back burner as a need to survive pulses in your brain. grabbing a random shoe, a picture frame from off the wall, and a small ball which were left on the floor earlier, you throw them in another direction and hope it sounds enough like footsteps that when you get into the bathroom, whatever that thing is doesn't try to follow you in there.

the balls of your feet aren't much quieter than your whole foot, but they'll have to do as you nearly slam the bathroom door, stop yourself in the knick of time to edge it closed instead, and lock it. for the first time in your entire life, you internally thank your parents that you didn't get that house with the skylight in the bathroom.

now, you hold your breath. the creaking of the floors beneath your cheap carpet tells you that that thing, that monster, that whatever-it-is, is passing by. your fingers shake as you cover your mouth with one hand, the other cupping your nose as you try desperately to slow and quiet your breathing. unfortunately, the racing of your heart isn't helping, and neither is the recognition of that wound that craved up your back so nicely. again, your stomach turns. you don't have time to deal with that right now, even if you can feel blood dripping down your back and throbbing which matches your heartbeat.

click, click, thump, thump. the shadow from the light outside darkens, two fuzzy shadows before the door. silence. praying.

click, click. click. it slowly, slowly, drags its hideous feet away from the door.

you can't breathe for another minute, and the instant you do, it comes out as a heave. your eyes go wide as you scramble toward the bathtub, making it just in time to spill your guts. after emptying your stomach, you pull away with watery eyes and a raw throat, coughing a couple times. you feel a little bit better, as you usually do after throwing up, but that won't last. also, you need water, and that means looking in the mirror if you don't wanna be loud. but for right now, you just need to lay down for a moment. just breathe. you're so, so light headed. you had only just woken up, and this all felt so real. the pain in your hand and in your back. the scratchy stinging you feel up your esophagus. the exhaustion pawing under your eyes as you start to lean backward;

except, you can't, and when you try that, you only shoot straight up and nearly puke all over again. thankfully, this time, the finger actually falls out of your back.

"𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯."

you can reach the majority of the wound if you really reach. it won't be perfect, but you should be able to get it properly clean and bandaged with the first aid kit your family keeps in the bathroom. you don't really know how to clean a wound this big, though. will you need stitches? the only real way to know is to look at it, even if you aren't really ready to do so.

"𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭."

the thought came to you before you even moved from your spot on the floor. oh, yeah. that's right. you're asleep.

...

huh. most dreams feel a little more, don't know. dreamy?? if this is a dream, candy is going to start raining from the sky right now.

right now. here.

𝘯𝘰𝘸, you think, looking up at the ceiling half heartedly. alright, if this was a nightmare, it was a really weird horrible one. and also, you'd rather not push your luck at this point. so, mirror it is. ignoring the pit of panic welling in your chest, you push yourself to your feet, and tip toe to the kitchen sink. you stare at the faucet, and then force your eyes upward. your hair is frazzled, and there are white specks along the corners of your mouth. and then, you turn around. your jaw tightens when you see the open wound, your nightshirt torn open and revealing tattered, aggressive flesh beneath it. that thing probably cut you to the bone. hopefully, because there is in fact a bone there, it didn't hit any organs. you can breathe fine, so your lung didn't seem all too punctured. it's just ugly. ugly and painful.

cleaning it is the first step, and you're just thankful that despite the fact that you stupidly, stupidly, stupidly dumped isopropyl alcohol onto it in hopes of doing so (for a second, before the burning, you felt a little uncomfortable. and then it hit, you nearly cracked your tooth from biting down so hard), it's over with.

a week later, you find yourself in class, rubbing sleepiness from your eyes. so, long story short, that wasn't a dream, and something is horribly wrong. you waking up to a long scab running down your shoulder blade told you that much. and things were about to get a lot worse. in the real world, that is.

"sir, please. they do literally nothing. they just sit there all spaced out, rubbing their eyes. it's like they aren't even trying for this project!" brandy, your classmate begs in a hushed tone. as annoying as the brunette could be at times, she wasn't wrong. a pang in your chest as you think of possibly making it so that the other members of your group protect fail because you are too tired to do your part. god, sorry brenda, you're too busy trying to huddle up in a bathroom all night and take care of a wound that isn't healing for some reason, all while praying that the thing that chased you in there and will probably kill you, doesn't murder you. but she's still not wrong. and it isn't like she knows that, because you have something seriously wrong with you. it's not her fault, and she shouldn't have to pay for you being crazy.

"mr. thomas," you quietly call, rubbing your elbow uncomfortably as you stare at the floor. you can see brandy pause from the corner of your eye, and you think there's even a sorry expression on her face. even if she was annoying, she clearly hadn't thought you heard that. and she had a right to be upset.

"I would like to change groups, if, um, possible."

there's a pause, and from your peripheral view, you can see your teacher and classmate motioning at each other, her probably trying to convince him to let you do so. a small thump, and then a sigh. "alright. I'm going to put you with ashlyn's group. "

as a redhead from across the room pops up and looks around, mr. thomas looks through a few pieces of paper, crossing something off with his pen. he didn't say it out loud, and frankly, he didn't have to. that was the group in the class that was also failing, so, you being in it wouldn't have much of an impact anyway. at least you wouldn't sink the whole ship all by yourself. was it smart, as a teacher? no. he probably should have put you with a tutor or something. looking up at mr. thomas as you nod and collect your things from your desk reveals an, in fact, apologetic eyed brandy. she mouths a "thank you", and you nod in return. you would drag your chair to their little group later, first, you should go introduce yourself, and hope they don't kick you out.

the bright blonde of the group catches you with his eyes before anyone else. you can hear him say something, and the rest of them stop talking and turn to look at you as you awkwardly walk over. their eyes are so piercing, it's making you uncomfortable.

"can we help you?" a brunette asks, tilting her head up to look at you. her tone carries no malice, just curiosity. makes you feel a little bit better.

"I'm so sorry to ask this, if you guys don't want me in your project I'll go ask if I can be alone or join another group or something, it's not a big deal. I'm having issues with my part of the project, and it's affecting everyone else's work in my group. so they were wondering if I could join in with you guys."

they all share a really weird look with each other, like they're talking telepathically or something. a tense moment passes, and two members speak up at the same time.

"yeah sure lol."

"fuck no."

"tyler! be nice! besides, we probably need someone who actually knows what's going on in this class!"

"didn't she just say she was having issues with her work? it's not like she's going to add much."

"to be fair, I don't think any of us are doing all too great on the work anyway."

you feel the need to clarify, mainly to get this over with. "I'm not really having trouble with the work. I'm just not doing it. I'm having sleeping issues, again, not a big deal if you don't want me to join."

they all stop, and look at you again. the redheaded one narrows her eyes, letting the braid she was messing with fall to her lap. her and the boy next to the brunette girl who asked you a question - actually, now that you're up close and looking at him, that looks like one of the boys on the baseball team. didn't she call him tyler? like tyler hernandez? huh. you didn't even realize you guys shared this class.

"what kind of nightmares have you been having?" the blonde asks, looking at who you're starting to assume is ashlyn. they have a staring contest of sorts while you start to answer. "oh, just weird ones. like, ones with monsters... and stuff..."

you didn't say anything about nightmares.

he looks at you again, a cat like grin on his face. "I think you should sit down. "

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

next part: a rescue mission

[admirxation]

Pathetic | Leon S. Kennedy oneshot

pairing: sub! re2 stepbro! leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

summary: the reader and leon always hated each other, ever since her mother and his father decided to merge the families. one night, when the reader gets ready for a date, her and leon find out a secret desire both of them have been hiding.

word count: 2.5k

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! i do not condone everything i write, my writing doesn’t reflect all my morals. if any of the following warnings trigger or make you feel uncomfortable, scroll away; you are in charge of what content you’re consuming. this work is 18+ only, minors are strongly advised not to interact.

warnings: NSFW 18+ content. female anatomy and she/her pronouns used for reader. detailed smut: stepcest, dominance and submission, f stepping on m, degrading (m receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), tasting cum, hair pulling, tit play, and creampie.

The day of your mother and Leon’s father’s wedding was when you two needed to get along, but that wouldn’t happen. You two went to the same high school, hating one another; it was the most ironic and hilarious moment when you had to start living together. Everyone in the school always commented on how funny it was, constantly asking what it was like to be siblings and commenting on how you needed to “end the war” and befriend one another.

But like everyone with a sibling, arguments got worse between you, but this didn’t stop your parents' union. You remembered wearing that frilly pink dress, unflattering and too big on you, but it was what your mother wanted. Standing with the other bride’s maids, you kept death-staring Leon — him reciprocating — and you both knew the arguments and fighting would be a part of your life.

You were both in your early twenties now, saving up to move out; your parents desperately wanted both of you gone, the constant fighting was getting too much, and they wanted to spend more quality time with each other.

For the weekend, your parents — well, your mother and the man she married — were away for an anniversary, something they would do every year, leaving the house for just you and Leon. Right now, you were getting dressed and putting on your favourite skirt and fishnet stockings, getting ready for your date; you were going to meet a guy off Tinder. You wanted to take every opportunity to go on as many dates as possible, parties, and have as much fun as possible, planning to invite your date to stay the night if things went well. While thinking about your date, you were putting on your eyeliner while your favourite music was blasting from your phone; the music connecting to the speaker to annoy Leon, laughing to yourself every time you heard him shout: “Turn it off!”.

You knew you got under his skin when you heard heavy footsteps coming closer to your room, preparing yourself for another argument; Leon burst through the doors as you finished your eyeliner, giving him a smug look as he stared at you in frustration.

“Do you need to play it that loud?” you nodded, pulling your speaker closer so he couldn’t turn it off.

“I’m trying to play a game with Chris.”

You turned it down, only to speak to him, planning to turn it back on right after he left: “If it’s that much of a problem, go to his house… I need you gone for tonight anyway, inviting Mason over.”

“Ah, another guy… Sounds like something I can tell Mom and Dad,” he always tried to scare you, but it wasn’t going to work, your mother was always forgiving of everything you did, and Leon’s father was always trying to win you over — “the favourite” was the best way to describe you.

“Think about it for a moment; they never believe you,” Leon looked to the ground when knowing your words had the truth, “Now… Please leave me alone, I don’t want to see your face when I return.”

“Whatever, continue being a slut for all I care,” he turned around to leave the room.

Your eyes widened; you knew you had a different style but didn’t think Leon would insult you that way.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed; before Leon knew it, you pushed him to the ground, wincing in pain as the carpet scraped along his arms, looking at you with fear, “Listen here, you little twirp, don’t you dare call me that again, or I’ll make you regret it!” anger lingering in your words, Leon continuing to look at you with fear as you stepped on his chest, feeling his breathing quicken as you continued to shout as him and put him in his place.

You were about to lift your foot away from his chest, looking at him all scared and vulnerable, looking down and seeing there was an imprint on his sweatpants; as you looked down, Leon blushed with embarrassment; he had tried to keep it in and not let you see it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” this only made you step harder onto Leon’s chest, making his breathing quiver under your control, “How pathetic… You’re getting hard for your little sister.”

You witnessed him squirm as you pressed more force onto him, seeing him get harder.

“Y-yes, fine, I have… liked you for a while… I never hated you… P-please, can you get off me? You’re hurting me,” you thought momentarily, deciding to show him some mercy, lifting the pressure off him and seeing him prop himself upright as he looked at you — still hard and showing an imprint on his sweatpants.

“You’re a disgusting little pervert, aren’t you?” a smirk crept on your face as you folded your arms.

While calling him all the names under the sun, this excited you. You had to admit Leon was extremely attractive and you hated admitting it. Eating at the same table as him and having your bedroom next to his was too much; falling under the illusion that you hated him was easier than admitting to the dark fantasies of wanting your stepbrother to fuck you.

Having these thoughts spiral through your head as you stood there, looking into Leon’s blue eyes — it was interrupted by a ping on your phone. Returning to your room and hearing Leon slowly follow you, wanting more and more. Your eyes glanced over your phone, seeing that Mason decided to flake on you; he gave you some excuse of having a headache; you just rolled your eyes— you weren’t disappointed and knew it would just be another deleted contact. Turning around as you placed your phone back on the table, you saw Leon standing in the doorway, messing with the long sleeves of his shirt and looking down while blushing.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Well… It seems like you’re going to be free,” Leon could sense something had happened with the lack of agency to walk out the door, “I, um, I was wondering —”

You raised an eyebrow: “You want to fuck me, don’t you?” It wasn’t hard to read him like a book; he was practically desperate for your touch again, still hard from your degrading actions.

Like you, Leon was always attracted to you; how couldn’t he? You were beautiful; all the guys in high school wanted to be with you. Every time you would wear any outfit that exposed some skin drove him crazy, he could control himself throughout the day, but when everyone was asleep, he locked his bedroom door and started touching himself to the thought of you, slowly caressing his cock to the image of your cleavage or whatever was on show — wanting more than just a thought. This was when he could get the “more” and finally live his most profound and darkest fantasies with you. Was he ashamed? Of course, he was; who wants to admit they want to fuck their step-sister? But he felt his attraction slowly overtake him. You never made it easy with the outfits or walking to your room and going past his door in nothing but a towel, leaving Leon to wonder what it would be like if that towel just dropped, just once — he was disgusted with himself.

“Please… You already know the effect you have on me… I need you,” hearing those words made you wet; hearing his pleas and seeing him all desperate and vulnerable, you liked that you had the upper hand.

You moved closer to him, hearing his breathing shallow as he got more nervous — his blushing cheeks giving it all away — pressing your hand on his imprint and feeling how big he was under those sweatpants.

“Do you like it?” you asked as you continuously moved your hand along his length.

He nodded and looked down at you, seeing your exposed cleavage with his height towering over you; he then moved his hand on your cheek, moving into a passionate and lustful kiss. It was wrong, disgusting, all the words you could use, but you couldn’t deny how wet it made you, feeling your clit pulsate and beg for his cock to ram itself inside you. Before you knew it, Leon moved his hands, grazing your ass and reaching your thighs.

You stopped him momentarily: “Did I give you permission to touch me like that, Leon?” he shook his head, his cock twitching with pleasure the more you controlled him.

“Get on the bed,” you demanded.

Leon followed suit, lying on your bed, waiting for you to join him. You removed your top, exposing your chest covered by a bra, making Leon stare at your beautiful body that was only covered with a skirt, fishnets, and bra now. You started to crawl towards him on the bed, getting on top of him and meeting his blue eyes that communicated his desperation for you; you started to grind your hips, grinding and feeling his large cock underneath his pants, yearning to be exposed so it could finally see what you felt like. You traced your fingers from his yaw down to the band of his pants, feeling him shake as he anticipated what you would do next.

“What do you want me to do to you, Leon?” you said seductively, rubbing his clothed cock, distracting him as he thought.

“Whatever you want, I just… I just need you so much right now,” he said breathlessly; you smirked at his vulnerability, knowing precisely what you wanted to do with him first.

You moved down, your fingers gripping the band of his pants, seeing his cock spring up as it was exposed in front of you; Leon gasped as the cold air hit his skin; both of you blushing as you saw the precum that had already lingered on the tip of his cock. You traced the tip of your finger on it, feeling the tacky liquid on your finger as you moved it to your tongue, making Leon bush harder as he saw you lick it and taste him for the first time.

“Oh fuck,” you heard Leon say under his breath, seeing how beautiful and sexy you were.

You then swirled your tongue on his tip, being met with Leon wincing in pleasure, not breaking eye contact as you turned the twirling into your mouth taking more of his length; you loved hearing Leon moan, hearing the way he said your name as you gave him the best pleasure he had ever had. You moved your mouth up and down, Leon interlocking his fingers in your soft hair, gently moving your head down and loving how you looked as your eyes met his.

“You’re so good at this,” Leon uttered as his fingers started to caress your cheek, looking at you like you belonged to him.

It was hypnotic to look at you, the way you made Leon shake and curl his toes as he tried not to cum too fast — even though he was desperate to see what you would look like with his cum all over your face — he wanted to make sure he felt your walls surround his cock before he released himself.

“Oh my… fuck… Please let me fuck you already; I need to know what you feel like,” his breathing became more laboured.

You moved your mouth away from his cock, it glistening wet from your actions, watching him as he propped himself upright to meet your face, inches away from your lips. He moved into another wet kiss — not caring what you had previously done — you moved your fingers into his hair, gently tugging and hearing Leon softly groan as you made him endure more pain.

“I love seeing you squirm like that,” you said between kisses.

Leon continued to connect his lips to yours desperately, his hands trailing behind your back as he tried to remove your bra; you couldn’t help but smile as you felt the failed attempts until you finally heard the unclasping sound. He threw your bra out of the way, it landing across the room; Leon then took the opportunity to move his warm hand on your breast and squeeze it hardly; you moaned as he groped you, feeling his thumb circle your erect nipple.

“Can you please get on all fours, please,” Leon politely asked; you couldn’t help but love how he asked.

You followed his wishes, twirling your body into an all-fours position arching your back and exposing your thong to Leon, making him blush even more. His fingers laced around your inner thighs, making you shudder as he approached your wet centre.

“Should I be careful with your stockings or —” you cut him off.

“Just rip them… I don’t care, just get on with it,” you were eager and longing for Leon.

His fingers interlocked in the holes of your stockings, pulling them apart and creating a massive ripped hole, moving your thong over to the side and revealing your wet glistening pussy — making his cock twitch and release another pooling of precum. At first, he started to rub his cock along your soaking slit, making you get more desperate, biting your lip in anticipation.

“Can’t believe you wanna fuck your little sister’s pussy, Leon,” you wanted to tease and humiliate him, knowing he liked the degrading.

He liked it, showing you this by pushing his tip slowly inside you, making your breathing quicken, and finally pushing his whole cock inside your wet and swollen cunt, and gasping. As he continued to push himself, you screamed his name, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket.

“Oh fuck, Leon!” you couldn’t keep your moans in as you tried to get used to his size, loving the feeling of his length moving through your walls.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” Leon continued to groan, trying his best to control himself, getting more difficult as your walls tightly surrounded his member.

All the tension between you two had been building up for ages — finally getting released in the pleasure you were giving one another — lost in the ecstasy of each other bodies colliding together in an orgasmic union.

“You’re so pathetic,” you degraded him even more, Leon moving his cock quicker as you kept giving him what you wanted, “Such a little pervert,” you continued as you looked back to Leon’s face that was plastered with a red tint of blush.

He continued to push his cock harder inside you, feeling and hearing how wet you were because of him, his nails digging into your skin.

“Leon, I’m going to cum, don’t stop!” you moaned loudly.

“Please, please cum for your big brother,” his grip on your ass got harder, knowing bruises would form from how he dug his nails in you, his movements gaining a sense of urgency in his quick pace.

You released yourself all over Leon’s cock; him loving how it felt and seeing it trickle down and glaze his members and your inner thighs; this happened because his touch made your release easier. He finally came inside you, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head as you felt warmth pool inside you. You were both breathless, collapsing on the bed and Leon sitting beside you.

“Looks like you’re good at some things… You’re not entirely useless,” you teased him.”

“I-I can show more of what I can do,” he stuttered.

my links: masterlist | kofi

[holdmytesseract]

New Old World [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader feat. Teddy Dixon

Summary: Being stranded in the Commonwealth changed the life for you and your little family. Adjusting to this new, yet old world wasn't easy. Neither for you, nor Daryl and certainly not for Teddy...

Warnings: Alternative Ending/Different Timeline! TWD things? fluff, talks of babies, swear words, Daryl being the smol insecure bean he is, age gap

Set in the Commonwealth!

Word Count: 3,2k

a/n: This story is part of the EoH universe, but has an alternative ending with a different timeline. 🤗

Tagging: (in the comments ☺️)

Life in the commonwealth was strange - and yet so familiar. It felt like getting thrown into another dimension. Another world. Well, perhaps it was normal to feel like this after five years of fighting for survival every day in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. You had seen every cruelty this world had to offer and now... Suddenly you landed in this community, where the most people's worry wasn't the undead anymore, but how to… earn money? It felt wrong and nevertheless you couldn't deny that it was somehow... right.

Two strong, yet soft hands on your waist ripped you out of your thoughts and daydreams. "What yer thinkin' about, sunshine?" You smiled at hearing the gravelly, loving voice of your husband from behind you. Reaching up your hand, you buried your hand in your lover's hair. It had grown so much the past years. The dark brown strands reached in soft curls over his shoulders by now - and you absolutely loved it. "Just about this... What we have here..." The answer you got was nothing more than a low grunt. You knew Daryl didn't trust this place yet - and you understood why. Money, jobs, restaurants and Halloween? Oh please...

But on the other hand... A piece of normalcy and not fighting the dead, other people and death itself was what you all wanted - and it broke your heart that Alexandria couldn't be that for you at the moment.

"I still dunno 'bout all this... Feels... weird." You nodded. "I know, but... Until we can go back home, let's make the most out of it, yeah?" Daryl didn't answer, just huffed out a breath. Not unusual for the man who didn't need much words. Instead, he gently moved; went to press your back against his chest - which felt hard and not really comfortable, like you noticed instantly. Turning in his embrace, you realised why... Daryl wore his commonwealth uniform. Right, you remembered. Your man had suddenly a job again and was working. "Are you off to work, cutie pie?" You witnessed, how Daryl's cheeks reddened softly at your chosen pet name. "Yeah... Jus' wanted to say goodbye, 'fore I leave." You nodded; scanning his handsome face with your eyes. He had grown over the years - of course. Got even more mature and responsible-minded. You sensed major DILF energy radiating from him.

"How sweet of you," you said, leaning closer to place a soft, quick kiss on his lips. "Have fun - I guess, and don't let yourself get stressed so much. I know Sebastian Milton is an asshole, but you and Rosita will make it. Think about picking Teddy up from school with your cool stormtrooper armour. He's going to lose it - and he'll be so proud, seeing his dad being one of the 'cool soldier guys'."

School... Another crazy thing. Sure, you tried to teach Teddy a few things and there had been a lot of small education thingys in the past five years. Be it in the prison or Alexandria. It had always been there but this? This was a whole other thing. This was a real school. With real teachers and actual classes. Something you hadn't seen in over seven years.

"Ya think so?" You smiled and gently scratched his slightly grey goatee; feeling the hairs tickling your fingertips. "I know so." You then stood on your tiptoes, in order to involve Daryl in another loving kiss. But a firm knock on the door of your sparse, small apartment caused you to jump apart; ending the kiss way too early. "Daryl?" Rosita's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "We gotta go!" You sighed; wrapping your arms tighter around your husband's neck. "Seems like duty calls..." "Mhm..." Daryl grumbled and turned his head towards the door. "'M comin', Rosita!" He lifted his hands to your arms, trying gently to loosen them from around his neck - but you kept on holding on; not budging. "I gotta go, sunshine." You pouted, but eventually let go of him. "I know, 'm sorry. But I promise, I'll be back soon." You nodded and watched with crossed arms, how Daryl grabbed his helmet; ready to leave. "What are you up to today?" You shrugged your shoulders. "I dunno. Perhaps I'll visit the rest of the fam." Daryl nodded; knew of course what you meant, and walked towards the door. "I love you. Be careful, yes?" "Love ya, too. Don' worry. I always am. 'Sides, Rosita's gonna hold me back from doing some stupid, headless shit." With those words, he opened the door and marched out. It stayed long enough open for you to see your friend. "Hey Rosita!" You waved at her. "Y/N," the black-haired beauty answered; smiling at you, before the door fell in its hinges.

While your son was at school and your husband at work (It still sounded crazy in your head.), you spent the whole morning with cleaning up the apartment - which mostly consisted of collecting Teddy's small carved artworks. Since his father showed him how to carve something (mostly spears to hunt fishes or other weapons to defend himself) out of wood, he was obsessed. Whenever the opportunity was given, you'd find the boy sitting somewhere underneath a tree - or even up in a tree (the safer option), carving. He practiced year after year and by now, he was really talented. If Teddy just wouldn't leave his little figures and weapons laying all around the apartment...

After that, you decided to take Dog out for a walk. The fluffy Belgian Malinois with the brown-black fur was a faithful companion of your little family, since the day Daryl brought him back from a hunt. Teddy fell for him immediately anyways, so... And as much as Teddy loved Dog, Dog loved Teddy in return. They were a great duo.

"Dog, come on, let's go out. Time for walkies." Dog's ears perked up at your mention of 'walkies'; head lifting. "Come on!" You tapped your thigh - which was his sign to literally jump up and run to you. You giggled; petting and scratching the fur behind his ears. "Let's go." You opened the door and out Dog ran. He was a very loyal and well-behaved animal. Daryl had trained him well. He'd never run off or leave your side - unless he had a good reason.

It was quite a beautiful day today. The commonwealth was bustling with people. Some of them working, some of them enjoying their day off. You hadn't a specific destination in mind, when you took Dog out. Most of the time, Dog decided on where to go. Today, the faithful Malinois led you to a very good friend of yours. A member of the family - without a doubt...

Dog already saw him from afar, grooming a white-brown patchy pony. Dog announced his - and your presence with a loud bark. The man with the black, greyish dreadlocks turned on his heels at the sound. A smile crossed his features, as he saw you and your four-legged companion approaching. Dog ran up to him; tail wagging in excitement. Ezekiel squatted down, in order to welcome Dog. He literally jumped Ezekiel; paws landing on the King's shoulders, causing the man to laugh heartily. Dog liked Ezekiel and Ezekiel Dog. There was no doubt about this. It was fact.

You came to stand beside the pair; Dog still enjoying Ezekiel's petting. "Hey Ezekiel." The King straightened; stood up again, in order to properly face you - much to Dog's disappointment. "Greetings, Y/N. What a pleasure to see you! Tell me, what brings you to my modest, little farm?" You shook your head, smiling. "Dog decided to bring me here. I think he wanted to visit you. Nevertheless, it's great to see you, too." Once again, the man laughed, scratching Dog's head in an affectionate manner. You adored Ezekiel. You really did. He was always so positive. A true ray of sunshine. A very kind man - and now, here at the commonwealth, he was able to do what he loved again... Being a zookeeper.

"How are you feeling today?" You asked him then, referring to his medical condition. "Oh, I'm feeling great, Y/N. Thank you. Better every day." "That's really great and reassuring to hear." He nodded; one hand still petting Dog, who was sitting beside the man now. "Well, if it wouldn't have been for Carol and Tomi, I probably wouldn't be walking this earth anymore as a living man." "That's why we are all a big family. We help each other." The King nodded, "Truer words have never been spoken, dear friend." giving you one of his brilliant smiles. "How is Teddy doing in school? Carol told me he had quite a rough start?" You sighed, nodding. "Yeah, he had... It was after all the first time for him to go to a real school. Sure, he had his friend, Nick. But unfortunately, Nick is in a different class. So many new children and all so much different from him - and Nick. Most of them weren't on the road. Anyways not as long as we were. He never had an easy time adjusting to new, different things. He was quite afraid of attending school."

The corners of Ezekiel's mouth twitched into a small smile. "Well, this sounds to me quite like someone else we know..." You understood that reference, of course. Both, you and Ezekiel knew exactly who you were talking about. You giggled; shrugging your shoulders. "Like father..." "...like son." The King finished your sentence, laughing. "Well, I hope Teddy is able to adjust soon." "I hope so, too. Just have to give him some time..." The man nodded. "I'd say so, too. If you're looking for a little distraction for him, you are more than welcome to send him - and Nick over to me. I promised Teddy to teach him how to ride a horse already quite a while ago. Now, I finally have the time - and opportunity." "Sure, I am definitely going to do that. Thank you." He smiled; nodding. "Of course."

While you were still out with Dog, walking through the whole commonwealth, Daryl made his way to the elementary school, in order to retrieve his son. After all, he had promised him - and since Daryl went to school directly after his shift, he was still dressed in his commonwealth armour. The archer was really looking forward to this. It was his personal highlight of the day.

"I need to pick Teddy up from school," he told his friend. "See ya later?" Rosita nodded. "Sure. I have to look after Coco as well." With that being said, the two long-term friends parted ways.

Daryl made his way to the school then and waited in front of the rather big building for Teddy to come out. It was quite a bit ridiculous for the archer - and also a whole new experience. He would have never thought, that he'd pick up his son from school one day. Not after the world went to shit. Back in the early days, everybody had different problems than sending the kids to school. Surviving, for example. Getting enough food on the table for his family - and all the people who became his family.

"Daddy!" Teddy's happy, relieved voice urged to Daryl's ears; announcing his son's arrival. A soft smile spread over Daryl's face, when he saw his son running towards him. He squatted down; waiting. Teddy ran straight up into his awaiting arms, hugging him. He may be ten years old by now and would soon grow into a man, but for now, he was still Daryl's little boy - and he'd enjoy every hug he got. "Hey, buddy! You good?" Teddy didn't get to answer the question his father asked him. A group of three other boys had approached them.

"Your dad is a commonwealth soldier?" One of them with glasses and bright blonde, tousled hair asked; eyes wide. Teddy nodded proudly; stood beside his still crouching father and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Yep, he is!" "Wooow..." Every boy of the group was stunned. Teddy started to smile proudly; his shyness suddenly forgotten, as the boys finally noticed him. Due to his cool dad. It made the young Dixon happy - but he also knew, that they were probably just going to like him because his dad was one of the countless commonwealth heroes.

"Let's get goin', huh? I bet your mother already waits for us..." Daryl noted; noticing immediately what game those boys played. Teddy nodded and turned to his seemingly new friends to say goodbye.

After that, Daryl and Teddy walked home together. "So... How was school?" The little boy shrugged his shoulders; his mood suddenly changing fast. The school topic wasn't an easy one... "Okay, I guess..." "You get better along with them other kids?" Another shrug. "A bit." That didn't sound convincing. Not at all.

Daryl stopped in his movements and turned to face his son. Once again, he squatted down and placed both his hands on Teddy's small shoulders. "Alright, talk ta me, buddy. Don't bottle everythin' up. I used to do that too, y'know. 'S not good. Spit it out." Teddy sighed and bit his lip nervously - a habit he copied from his dad. "I just feel so lonely... 'Specially without Nick... The other kids think I'm weird." Tears were shining in the young boy's blue-grey eyes. Daryl saw it. Despite his long, softly curled bangs of brown hair. "Why?" "Because I'm not as good in school as they are. A-And because I know more about gutting a fish, then our home country..." Daryl's heart ached, as he heard that. He knew how his son felt. He knew the feeling of being an outsider.

"Hey, Teddy... Don't listen to 'em. Ya hear me? I know it's not easy, but always remember... You're so much better than them." Teddy looked up at his father through teary eyes. "H-How?" The archer smiled. "Firstly, 'cause you're a Dixon and secondly, 'cause you're a survivor. You know how to handle a walker. I taught ya everything ya need ta know - except hunting. But we'll do that as soon as you're a bit older. That's why. It might sound hard and cruel, but those kids would never survive out there alone. You do." At those words, Teddy's eyes lightened up again - and he smiled. The same, sweet smile you always smiled. A smile Daryl loved above everything and would never tire to see.

"Really?" The archer nodded. "Really." The boy threw his arms again around his father's neck; hugging him tight.

You were already back home again with Dog, when you heard the front door getting opened and closed again. The barking of Dog echoed through the small apartment, followed by your son's giggles.

Unfortunately, you couldn't spend the rest of the afternoon together, since Daryl had to go back to work. Nevertheless, you had a great day; took the boys out for some riding lessons with Ezekiel and prepared some dinner together with your husband's mini-me. That's what Teddy was - and it hadn't changed over the years. The boy was still his father's spitting image. Even the tattered, ripped jeans hadn't changed. He only had grown into them by now.

Now, you were sitting at the small dining table, together with Daryl and Teddy; eating dinner. Dog was laying on his little blanket; sleeping. Everyone was eating in silence - until Teddy came up with a conversation both, you and Daryl didn't see coming. Like, not at all…

"Mom, dad?" "Yes, sweetie?" You asked, while Daryl only grunted in response; needing to chew first. "We, uh, talked about our families today in class and... Almost every other girl or boy told us about their siblings and how much fun they have with them. I-I know I've got Dog and Judith and RJ and even Coco, but... Can I, uh, can I have my own little baby brother - or sister?" Daryl almost choked on his foot, hearing this, while you blinked rapidly at your ten-year-old. "I-I promise I'll look after him or her a-and protect them and play with them!" "Teddy... Sweetie..." You started; having to swallow hard and take a deep breath. "This, uh, this isn't an easy decision and not just to be made within a few minutes. Especially not in this dangerous world. I- We, your dad and I will have to think and talk about this first, okay?" Teddy looked at you with his soft, blue, greyish eyes - and nodded. "Okay." "Can you understand that?" "Uh.Huh, yeah." The conversation had turned someway, somehow slightly awkward, so you left it at that. Daryl had said absolutely nothing; didn't even make a peep.

Later on, once Teddy was in bed; sleeping safe and soundly with Dog in his arms, you approached your husband, who stood at one of the windows; having a smoke. Wrapping your arms around his now black sweater clad torso, you pressed your cheek against his right upper arm. "What do you say?" "What do I say to what?" You decided to not beat about the bush. "Having a baby again." Daryl took a drag of his cigarette, before puffing out a small cloud of smoke. "I dunno if this is a good idea, honestly." "Why? I mean, we're safe here now. Soon in Alexandria hopefully as well. If not now, then when?" Daryl merely shook his head and you could swear that he was chewing on his bottom lip. "'S not that, sunshine... Even though I don't trust this place. I trust in Alexandria." "What is it then?" You asked; rubbing his sides affectionately. He paused; didn't answer you straight away - almost hesitating.

"'M not gettin' younger, ya know..." You frowned and adjusted your position, in order to look at him. You were hugging him now more or less sideways. "What does that mean now, cutie pie?" "What I said." You were still confused by his words. You clearly didn't understand - and Daryl noticed. "Y/N, 'm in my mid almost late forties now..." "So? I'm sorry, my love, but I don't really see the problem? You don't have to worry about a biological clock, unlike I... And as we speak, the time is running out so slowly." Daryl took a last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out. Then he turned to face you; biting his lip again. He was clearly troubled by that topic. You could see it in his eyes. "You think 'm not too, uh, old for that?" You shook your head, smiling. "No, absolutely not." The corners of his lips lifted slightly into a crocked smile. "So..." He started; turning to face you wholly. "You really want that? With me?" You cupped both his cheeks with your palms; nodding. "More than anything. I thought about it for quite a while, honestly."

Daryl blinked; was quite a bit surprised. "Wha'? Really?" "Mhm. You're such a good father for Teddy, so why not make you a daddy again?" The arched blushed at your words; and he couldn't help himself but to smile even brighter. "Ya think we can handle a newborn and a soon-to-be teenager?" You giggled; now running your hands down his chest. "I thought we can handle everything, Mr. Dixon? After all, we handled the end of the world. I think there's nothing that can better that." "Well... I guess yer right." You giggled once more. "I'm mostly right, cutie pie."

[sevcasejay1chicago]

I’ll take care of you-Kelly Severide

Summary: Your best friend, Kelly Severide, repays you for all the times you took care of him growing up.

Warnings: asthma attack

Author’s note: This will be a multipart fic, as requested by another user. I’ll post the final fic with the request attached. All fics will be platonic.

———

You have known Kelly Severide for years. As kids, you guys used to hide Kelly in your room when he needed to get away. Though your parents loved Kelly and often had him over for dinner, Kelly still had a habit of climbing the tree outside your bedroom window and lifting it up slowly after quietly knocking, needing his best friend.

You always welcomed Kelly with open arms. Often, you and Kelly would crawl into your little teepee, that you had in the corner of your room, and spend hours reading or talking. He was like the big brother you always wanted and you were like the little sister he always dreamed of, if he had any other life or parents.

To your parents, Kelly was the perfect kid with the less than ideal life, but you know how messed up his dad had made him. Most nights, Kelly found himself cuddled in your arms, face hidden in your neck while he quietly sobbed over whatever his dad happened to do or say that day. Some days, he would work up the courage to come in the front door earlier in the evening, needing to get out of his dad and the mistress of the week’s way. When it was time to get ready for bed, he would simply come climbing back through your window when the lights went out.

Today, Kelly had brought you home from school early. He basically dragged you out of the nurse’s office after you called for a ride. Though you were 18, you didn’t have a car. You would have just called your parents, but they were out of town and you couldn’t physically make it the 10 city blocks back home. Kelly ended up having to bridal carry you inside before rushing to get his things out of the car. Once he returned, you were shakily trying to set up your breathing machine, having insisted on the fact that “you weren’t kids anymore. You could do this yourself”, in between wheezes.

Kelly had enough, getting nervous as your lips began to turn blue. He snatched the tubing out of your shaking hands and finished attaching it before pouring in your medicine. Once he was satisfied that the machine was running smoothly, he placed the mask over your face. He had watched you and your parents do this throughout your childhood. This was nothing for him.

“I know we aren’t kids anymore, but letting me take care of you is just a little pay back for all the years you’ve taken care of me. Let your best friend have this one thing.” Kelly said dramatically, a pout gracing his lips as he stared at you.

You would have laughed if just breathing wasn’t a chore, but you settled for a smirk and a slight nod of the head.

“Thank you.” Kelly said, smiling brightly. “Hot chocolate, heating pad, more pillows, and your blanket from your room?” Kelly asked, standing from where he had previously settled on the coffee table.

You nodded and gave a double thumbs up. You reached for the remote, which Kelly slid into your hands before he made his exit. While he was running around, you picked your current Star Wars show and pulled it up. You happily let Kelly prop you up and cover you up before he ran back into the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling. He walked back in just in time for you to finish your meds. Kelly never ceases to amaze you. He sat down both mugs of hot chocolate before pressing a bottle of water into your hand, then reached up to take the mask off your face.

“Better?” Kelly asked, sliding a hand over your head to push the fly aways back before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Your warm.” He commented, feeling your cheeks.

You nodded. “Figured. I was sitting in class when the coughing started. Normally, I’d stop and a puff of my inhaler would do the trick, but not today. Sorry to ruin our weekend.” You mumbled, shakily taking the cup of hot chocolate from Kelly as you spoke.

“Nonsense. You know I love hanging out with you. We will just have a movie weekend.” Kelly shrugged. “Let me get you some cold meds. Then I’ll settle in with you. You need to relax.” Kelly said, walking back into the kitchen. He didn’t take long, bringing back some medicine and a ear thermometer. “100.7. We can work with that.” Kelly said, tossing the medicine pack and thermometer on the table.

“You should go home Kel. I don’t want you sick.” You tried, knowing that he would object.

Kelly shrugged, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “And leave my best friend alone all weekend? Not a chance. Someone has to take care of you.” Kelly said, kissing your temple.

“I can take care of myself Kel. Really. I’d feel terrible if you got sick.” You whined, though you continued to snuggle into his side, knowing you were fighting a losing battle.

“I’ll take my chances.” Kelly said matter of factly. “Plus, you could barely walk 45 minutes ago. No way am I leaving you alone until you get stronger or your parents come home.” Kelly said, settling in to watch the show you put on.

“Alright. Alright. Fine.” You said, yawning.

“Shhhh. Get some rest sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Kelly said, helping you get comfortable.

“Thanks Kel.” You whispered, snuggling into his chest and letting your eyes drift shut as you fell asleep to the beat of his heart.

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

[sspextkr]

snowed in - gerard/gn! reader fluffmas ao3

A snow storm blows out the power, leaving you trapped in an ATM vestibule with a certain celebrity crush of yours. (Heavily inspired by that one episode of FRIENDS ngl)

meet cute, plotless/mostly fluff, celebrity/fan dynamic, takes place in '07 read here on tumblr v or on ao3 (link above ^)

"5.. 10.. 15.. 20.. Good." You mutter under your breath, counting the amount you had pulled out from your bank account out loud. One week until Christmas, and there's still lots of shopping to be done. The last stop on your list for the night is a hole in the wall comic store for your younger brother, who's into all sorts of nerdy comic-y things. You have no idea what you're doing or what to get him- Maybe they'll have a cool figurine or something. They only take cash for some reason too, meaning you had to stop by and pull some out.

Although, you're also beginning to wonder if you should go home and do this in the morning- The snow is only getting worse by the minute, and you don't want to risk anything going wrong. The power could go out at any moment- knock on wood- and this vestibule isn't the comfiest. The ATM's are running smoothly, and the doors are functioning with no problem, so things should run smoothly.

You pocket your cash before walking to the front, and pulling the door handle. Clunk. It doesn't open. Maybe it's a push? Clunk. Not a push either. Just as you're about to give the door handle another tug, the lights flicker, before shutting off.

"... Shit-" You grumble, running a hand through your hair. Well, there go your plans for the evening. You spoke too soon, it seems.

“Aw, crap-” An awfully familiar voice sighs from behind you as well. “Guess we’re stuck.”

You only hum in agreement, turning around only to find yourself face to face with Gerard fucking Way.

…

“Holy shit.”

Like many of your friends, you had discovered My Chemical Romance in your late middle school/early high school years and became a massive fan, downloading every song of theirs you could find and buying as many magazines that had them on the cover as your parents allowed you too. Now, a little older and a bit more mature, you grew out of your phase, but the celebrity crushes still remained- Were they as intense as they were when you were 15? No, but certain photos did get your heart fluttering a bit.

Gerard pulled out his phone from the pocket of his trench coat, walking a few steps away before speaking. “Hi, yeah- I’m okay, I’m okay- The power went out and I’m trapped in the vestibule.” He paused. 

Right. You should probably call your own family and let them know where you are. You felt around your pockets, only to remember that you left it at home. Well, shit.

“No, I’m not alone..” Gerard glanced at you briefly. “I don’t know. Some guy.”

“Ha. I’m some guy.. What the hell is wrong with me?”

He spoke a few more brief words before hanging up, then awkwardly clearing his throat and turning back towards you, holding out his phone. “Do you wanna call anyone?”

You took his phone with an equally awkward demeanor, and dialed your moms number- You were supposed to drop by for a family dinner after a quick shopping trip, but the snow decided that you had other plans. After listening to it ring for a while, it goes straight to voicemail. Gerard gives you a sympathetic glance as he takes his phone back, putting it in his pocket.

"I just called my mom from Gerard fucking Way's phone, no big deal at all-" Secretly, you wished your cousin, Sabrina, had answered. She was supposed to be there, too, and was a massive MCR fan a few years ago like yourself. She would've been great to ramble with about this.

Neither of you spoke a word for the majority of the time, the only sound being the violent storm passing by outside. You decided to take a seat against the wall, awkwardly tracing the floor tiles. Gerard had a few other calls, some made and some received- It sounded like Christmas stuff, mostly.

"Busy?" You asked out of nowhere after his third call.

He gave a tired chuckle and nodded. "Yeah.. Christmas is always a big time of year for me. I'm.. I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or boasting, but I'm.. Sort of a musician. A bit big- Too big, if you want my opinion. Always some merchandise bundle scandal to deal with, or a tour that collides with vacation time-" Gerard paused, cheeks going slightly red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, no, it's okay. I asked, didn't I?" That seemed to calm him down a bit. "I've.. Heard of you before, I think. You're pretty good." 'Heard of you' was putting it lightly, but there's no way in hell you're going to come out as a superfan and risk embarrassing yourself in front of your teen hero.

"Ah.. Well, thanks. I appreciate it. Really." He smiled shyly, gaze still facing the ground. Your heart fluttered again. Jesus Christ. "What about you? You have anything going on?"

"I was supposed to be Christmas shopping. I came out here to pull out some money, but-" You gestured to the window showing off the blizzard outside. "Mother nature decided I had other plans."

"I get that." Gerard stepped closer to you, taking a seat beside you on the floor. Ho ho holy shit- "I wanted to do some shopping myself before I went home.. Came here to pull out some money. There's a comic store nearby that I like that only takes cash for some reason."

That caught your interest. "Spikes?"

He nodded, giving you another soft smile. "Yeah! You've been there?"

"Once or twice.." You brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face. "My brother is really into comics and superheroes and all that stuff.. I figured I'd stop by and see what I could find him. Too bad I don't know the first thing about comics."

"Lemme tell you, as a fellow comic book nerd, a figurine of his favorite character will probably make his day. D'you who or what he likes?"

"Uh.." You paused as you thought. "Really, really big on Iron Man. He can't wait for the movie to come out. Hasn't stopped talking about it since he saw the first few previews."

"Iron Man.." Gerard repeated softly. "Well, he's one of the most recognizable superheroes ever, so I have no doubt you'll be able to find him something Iron Man related. Figurines can get pretty expensive, though.."

".. Will $20 be enough?"

Gerard chuckled like you had just told him a joke. "If they're having a sale.. Maybe."

You chuckled as well, the sound cut off by a shiver running down your spine. With the power off, whatever heating units they had going was also off, and it was getting pretty cold. "You okay?"

You nodded, wrapping your jacket around yourself a little tighter. "I just get cold easily."

Gerard frowned, scooching to the side for a moment to take off his trench coat before settling it over your shoulders. "There."

You mumbled a small thank you, cheeks heating up to an embarrassing degree. Why were you so easy? Who gets flustered from someone giving you their jacket? Maybe since it's Gerard fucking Way-

The two of you continued to exchange a few words here and there, small talk turning into lighthearted and playful conversations. It was a little surreal getting to know him. Yeah, you had read all sorts of articles and watched all sorts of interviews, knew every song lyric by heart, and could drop so many of his iconic quotes into any conversation, but you were able to see who he was off camera. And who that was, was an adorable, loveable bastard with a passion for comics. Who knew he had such a sense of humor?

Your time together came to an abrupt end when the power flickered back on, the ATM’s came back to life and the door unlocked, finally. The both of you stood up, and you gave his coat back, not feeling quite as awkward or shy around him.

"This was a surprisingly good time." Gerard said after putting his coat back on, adjusting the collar around his neck. "Any chance I can get your number so we can meet up again?"

You blanked before nodding. "Uh.. Yeah, yeah.. Sure.."

Gerard smiled. "Awesome." He opened his contacts and handed you his phone, in which you typed your number in with shaking fingers. "I'll, uh, text you soon?"

"Yeah- Totally. I'm free besides the holidays."

"Great." He began to step away, walking towards the front door, before turning towards you at the last moment. "It was nice meeting you."

"Y-You too." And with that, he left. You found yourself needing a moment or two before you left yourself.

...

Sabrina’s never gonna believe this-