#I’d climb them both like a tree

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hey! can you write ghostface! ethan smut? where the reader knows and they have sex? I know for a fact he whimpers 🤭 thank you!

YESS YES YES

Heaven

Warnings: Smut (obviously), p in v, Ethan’s a lil nervous, super cute, a little plot

Yeah, ethan was a good guy. But was he that good to where you still liked him even after you knew he was a murderer?

After helping his father and sister on something, he was still wearing the mask. He took it off while walking, just to put it back on when he reached your parents house.

Your parents were gone for a few days, and you were taking a break from studying for just a day, then it was back to your dorm.

He didn’t knock on the door, or go through the back one even. He climbed up to your bedroom window, where he suspected you would be. Which you were.

He opened it silently, hoping to surprise you. Your back was turned to the window while you bent over and rummaged through a drawer. He closed the window and made his way to you, knife still in hand.

“Goddamnit!” You groaned in frustration. You turned around, when someone grabbed you. You screamed and kicked, but the person who grabbed you put their hand on your mouth.

The person took their hand off and let you go for a second. They took off their mask and of course-

“Surprise, (your name).” He said into a modulator.

(Stu and Ethan are my favorites so I had to)

“Ethan! Don’t scare me like that!” You hit his arm.

“You need to lock your windows.” He said, and pointing the knife at you.

“You sound like my parents.” You rolled your eyes, and he smiled widely.

“I missed you.” He said.

“I missed you too.”

He smiled again and sat down on your bed, putting the knife on the floor. You sat down next to him.

“So… why are you here?”

He shrugged “I just- I don’t know.. I just don’t like to be alone, after... I mean I know I haven’t actually killed anybody yet, I’m just helping them, but I mean still…”

“No, no, Ethan it’s fine. I don’t care, you know you can come to me at anytime.”

“Yeah.” He said, with a small smile and he laid his head on your chest. You played with his hair, and you picked out a movie.

After a while, let’s just say the movie got boring. Then, Ethan’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when there was a sex scene.

Ethan had just lost his virginity last week, to you. He made a joke saying how he’ll “die a virgin.” Good thing you were there.

Ever since then, you’d been closer. You didn’t quite understand it, were you guys a thing or not?

It didn’t matter at the moment, because Ethan’s hard on was very obvious through the Ghostface outfit he was still wearing. You paused your movements and stopped messing with his hair.

“Ethan..” you said, he looked up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Can we… talk?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, sure.” He sat up.

“Ethan, I like you. I really do. But I don’t know if you like me too, I mean like are a we a thing, are we not a thing?”

“Wh- of course I like you! I mean…” he took a deep breath. “Y/n, I’ve wanted to say this forever. Would you wanna be my girlfriend? I know this isn’t like.. ideal but-“

“Ethan. Ethan-“

“I do really like you and-“ he ranted on.

“Ethan!” You said, louder and interrupting him.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

He stared at you, and you stared back. You both slowly leaned in to each other, and kissed. It was slow and passionate.

He slowly led you down to the bed, him on top of you.

You both moved quickly to take off your clothes, then he realized.

“Uh… do you have a… condom?” He said, embarrassed. His cheeks went pink as he finished the sentence.

You smiled “In the drawer.” You said, and pointed to a drawer, he quickly fumbled off of you, almost tripping on his own shoes. He couldn’t believe it was happening, again, and now you guys were actually dating.

He grabbed it and went over to you again, he was thankful that the Ghostface outfit was easy to take off. He took off his boxers and put the condom on.

Then, he realized that you weren’t even completely naked. You were too busy watching him.

He slowly moved his hands to your bra, and unclipped it.

He then took off your underwear, and he tensed up. He was scared that maybe you wouldn’t like it, or you didn’t really like him. Maybe you’d leave him the second he got you.

“Ethan, calm down, it’s okay, it’s me. If you don’t want to do this or your not ready we don’t have to-“

“No, no I want to. Do you want to?”

“I do.” You said with a smile.

“Uh, this is—an embarrassing question, but can you uh… ride me?” He sat up, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed at him, and he feels like he’s done something wrong.

“Can I? I would love to.” You said with a smirk.

“Okay, because I still dont exactly know what I’m doing and I want this to be good for you-“

“Calm down, it will be. I want it to be good for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” He said, taking another deep breath as you straddled his lap. You held onto his shoulders, and his hands awkwardly were at his sides.

You guided his hands to your hip. One thing you couldn’t get over was his muscles, his cock wasn’t huge, but it was definitely big. But his muscles? No one would think that a quiet boy like him would have his muscles.

Finally, after what felt like hours for Ethan, you slowly hovered over his cock and then you slowly lowered yourself onto it. He screwed his eyes shut and threw his head back a little.

He couldn’t believe it, he was literally having sec with his GIRLFRIEND. A girl, who he could now call his girlfriend. And even after she knew he was a murderer, she still stayed with him.

If this wasn’t heaven, he would say heaven didn’t exist.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry smut #jack champion x reader #jack champion #scream 6 smut #scream x reader

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ #love #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo series #percy jackson show #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagines #percy jackson #percy jackson tv show #pjo tv series

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Four// W.W.

Warnings/Info: cursing, fluff, lots of Wonka whimsy, Willy liking pregnancy boobs

It worked. Everything went according to plan, and your husband has no reason to believe that he wasn’t the father of your baby.

With time, your belly started to grow more and more, and luckily, so did Willy’s chocolate sales.

You were about four months along in your pregnancy when Willy gave you the news that he had bought the chocolate shoppe. He was beaming with glee and you were overjoyed for him. You wanted to help him, so you said, “How about I come and work for you?”

“Oh, no no, no heavy lifting for you, or being on your feet for hours.” he said firmly as he caressed your belly.

“Not even just as the cashier, Willy? I haven’t had a job in years since I’ve been a wife. I’d love to get back out into the world again. And be with you, of course. I’ll keep a stool nearby to sit in if I get tired, if that would make you feel better.”

Willy sighed, then he grinned at you, “Okay, you can work the register. I know that I can count on you. You did promise to help run the business side of things.” He took your hands in his, “Things are happening, y/n. I’ve saved enough money to not only to but the shoppe, but also to rent an apartment nearby. I know it won’t be as spacious and comfortable as what you’re used to, but this is just the beginning. I want you to live with me. And if things keep going the way they have been, you’ll be living like a Queen, and our baby will be the prince or princess of the Wonka chocolate empire.” Willy had put his forehead on yours.

"Oh, Willy, you have already made me the happiest woman in the world. I just know that you-that we will have everything we dream of, I'm happy to work hard, and to be with you and our child."

You and Willy were so absorbed in one another and your daydreaming, that you didn't even hear the front door of your home open.

"What. The. Fuck?" it was your husband, home early and unexpectedly from work.

You and Willy looked over at Mr. Hudson, both in shock. You didn’t know what to say.

“John, how-"

“What a fine day this is, huh? I come home with a sniffle to find my wife with the fucking…chocolate salesman?”

“John, it’s, it’s not what you-well it is actually…”

“That’s it, y/n! Tell me what the hell is going on here.” he yelled, approaching you, towering over you with his height, and actively trying to intimidate you. This was the side of him only you saw.

“John,” you trembled, “this baby isn’t yours, it’s his. I’m in love with him.”

“Ha, well you can go ahead and be in love in the streets for all I care. Get your clothes and get the hell out of my house.”

You were scared, not necessarily of John, but to leave the only home you knew. You were glad that John didn’t say or do anything to Willy.

Willy was with you as you packed, and he held your hand on the way out of the house. You thought that maybe it was a good thing that this has happened now, rather than drag it out any further.

“Alright well, let’s go check out that apartment.” Willy said in his cheery voice to help make you feel better. You knew that you were going to be happy with this man, no matter what.

You were able to close on an apartment that day, well, Willy was, as you didn’t have an income yet. But that soon changed as you went to work together in the chocolate shoppe. Within days of opening, you were making good money.

You balanced the cash drawers, and the accounting books as Willy worked hard on his sweet creations. The candy he made was as tasty as ever, and the shoppe was an absolute dream. Hoverchocs, giraffe milk macaroons, edible flowers, and lollipops as far as the eye could see. It was a whimsical, colorful, joy to behold, with a giant winding cherry tree in the middle of the shoppe. There were pink cotton Candy clouds that you could climb upon, you and Willy would sit on them and have some chocolate milk, and then eat the tea cups.

It was the most fun you’d ever had in your life. It also felt amazing to help build something from essentially nothing, and to be creative with him.

Even at home, Willy would be inventing new flavors and trying new techniques and asking for your input of course.

...........

As you went into the later months of your pregnancy, you and Willy were able to buy a house. It was no mansion, but it was big enough to accommodate a young couple and their new baby, and maybe another child down the road.

You would be at the shoppe all day, resting adequately, of course. Willy eventually gave you an office in the back room to do your accounting work, which was good for you as you were heavily pregnant, but you started to miss being out front with customers. But you knew that once the baby arrived, things would be back to normal soon.

In the evenings, your tired Willy would rest his head on your big, basketball-sized belly and sing to our unborn baby. "Come with me, and you'll be in a woorrld of pure imagination." His voice was like that of an angel, soft and soothing. You could tell that your baby was relaxed by their father's voice, because he would lull you to sleep with his sweet lullabies after a long day in the office.

You started to set up the nursery together, and it was of course candy themed, much like your chocolate shoppe. Willy had lollipop raddles and candy cane-shaped teething rings made for the baby, among lots of other colorful accessories that resembled the sweet treats that were sold in the shoppe.

Above the baby's crib was a mobile made special by Willy, they were smaller versions of the pink cotton candy clouds that hung in the shoppe. Everything was absolutely adorable, and it made your heart swell with happiness.

After looking around the baby's room, you hugged your chocolatier, "Oh Willy, I'm so happy." you nuzzled against his shirt collar as he hugged you tightly. "I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Me either, my darling." he said, kissing you on the head, and then looked at you, "But I have to say that I'll miss your boobs being so big." He then eyed the large mounds on your chest.

You laughed, "You are a typical man, Willy Wonka. You can still use them as pillows after I have the baby."

"I know, but they're just so squishy right now-" he gently cupped your breasts through your shirt, "like marshmallows, or pudding."

"Okay, okay, you better stop before you get too excited, Willy." you giggled, kissing him.

Everything in your new home came together so beautifully, and your tried to enjoy it as much as possible, even though you were incredibly tired, and your body was swollen from head to toe. Your belly had grown much bigger than you ever would have expected.

Willy was wonderful during your whole pregnancy, but he was especially attentive to you in the last month. He would make you dinner after work, and no matter how tired he might have been, he never let on to his exhaustion. He would even massage your feet before bed. His sweetness and generosity never wavered.

.......

The day finally came: the day that you and Willy became parents. He was by your side throughout the entire birthing process, encouraging you and thanking you for giving him a child. He told you he loved you over and over, and wiped the sweat off of your forehead.

Your midwife was stunned after you had your baby, because she noticed another baby coming.

A/n: I hope you all are having a great Christmas season and have a safe and happy new year! The next chapter should be better than this one. lol

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #wonka #willy wonka

[lunajay33]

Just Us🩶Part.2

Summary: In a world full of walkers y/n was able to escape with her best friend, but maybe that friendship turns into something more

Pairing: Carl Grimes x f!reader

A/n: This story starts when the group is on the road after Terminus but I’m gonna make y/n and Carl 18 just to speed along the story!! This is also my first Carl Grimes series! This story includes 18+ scenes, pregnancy and more

Part.1<-

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week now since we got to Alexandria, we were still settling in, a few of us were still on guard but it was better than being out there, constantly in fear and always hungry, now we had food and a home

I was sitting on the porch with Judith in my lap as I rocked the chair back and forth as she played with a little stuffy someone from the community gave to her, Daryl was sitting against the railing tinkering with his cross bow, it was silent between us mostly, I always found comfort around Daryl he just gave that silent peace that I desperately needed sometimes

Judith was babbling as she pushed the bear in my face

“Oooo you like the bear sweetie?” I said taking it from her and wiggling it around as she giggled

She calmed down holding the bear and resting against my chest

“She really likes ya” Daryl said from his spot

“I’m glad, I’d do anything for her, do you wanna hold her?” I asked

“Nah don’t wanna get ‘er dirty” he said motioning to his greasy dirty hands

We heard voices close so we both looked to the street on alert, it was Carl and this girl I learned was Enid, Carl started talking a lot about her a few days after we came here and it was starting to eat at me, I noticed him drift a bit away from me, he wouldn’t be affectionate as much, I know we aren’t official but it sure felt like it and now he was interested in the new shiny toy

They were walking down the street right the house, I sighed biting my lip to prevent the built up emotions from overflowing

“Who’s that?” Daryl asked

“Enid, Carls been hanging out with her a lot, I’ve seen them climb the wall, I’ve barely even seen Carl much anymore” I said as I rubbed Judith back as I noticed her falling asleep

“They together?” He asked and it made my heart clench

I looked down not wanting to talk about this anymore

“Umm I think I’m gonna go for a little walk, are you okay here?” I asked standing up slowly as to not wake Judith held tight to my chest feeling her little hands unconsciously grip at my shirt

“ ‘m fine, ‘m here if ya need somethin’” he said going back to work

I left walking along the streets enjoying this moment with Jude, what if Carl really moved on, what if he only saw me as a best friend and now that there was actually another girl our age he wanted her, was I not good enough?

I sat on the curb under a tree for shade, I heard the little birds chirping and felt the gentle breeze blow through my hair as Judith curled in closer to me, I took the little blanket from my shoulder and draped it ontop of her

I found peace alone sometimes but my mind spiraled quickly, Carl always kept me grounded and now that he was off doing god knows what I was here thinking about everything

In the middle of my thought Judith woke looking up at me with those big wonderous eyes

“Mama” she babbled and my heart swelled, this beautiful little baby saw me as her mother and it just reminded me that I’d probably never get to have one of my own but for now I would cherish her

Tears sprung from my eyes running down my cheeks before I was interrupted

“Hey sweetie you okay?” I looked up to see Michonne standing over me with a worried look

I wiped my face and nodded

“I’m fine”

She sat next to me wiggling her finger in front of Judith as she tried to grab Michonne finger giggling

“It’s Carl isn’t it?”

Was it really that obvious, but I mean Michonne always noticed everything

“I’m losing him”

“There’s no way you could lose him y/n, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you”

“Use to, not anymore”

“He’s a boy, he’s gonna realize his mistake and that you’re the only one right for him just give it time”

“But I don’t want him to realize I’m the one after he’s given everything to her, he should just know, I know……” I said as I handed Judith to Michonne

“I just wanna be alone right now I’m sorry” I left going to the watch tower that no one really used

I swear everytime I tried to get away Carl jus plagued my thoughts, usually I’d love it thinking of our moments together but now all it brought me was this throbbing pain in my chest

I stayed in the watch tower until the sun was setting watching the few walkers would wander across the road and back into the trees dissapearing from sight

Groups Pov

Michonne, Rick and Daryl were standing around the island in the kitchen catching up on the days work

“Have either of you talked to y/n lately?” Michonne asked worried

“Chatted with her today, seems upset” Daryl said as he picked at his nails

“What’s going on?” Rick asked confused

“Really you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what is she okay?” Rick asked

“It’s Carl, been running around with that Enid girl, haven’t you seen he’s been running after her like a puppy and totally forgetting about y/n?” Michonne said upset that Carl would actually tear you like that

“I guess she has been asking to have Judith more and it’s just been them when I see her, never with Carl, damn kid” Rick said pushing his hair back in frustration

“Nothing we can really do we just gotta be there for her, kid might come around” Daryl said hoping for the best outcome

Y/n Pov

I got back to the house later that night after supper and most people in the group were gone to sleep or at least settling in, Carl was in his sleeping bag fast asleep making me miss the days on the road where he’d hold me, just a little over a week ago he was playing with my hair and holding me in that shitty barn before Aaron found us

With how close we got I thought maybe if the community was safe we’d start officially dating but that was quickly ruined

“Hey sweetie you’re back late” Michonne said from the kitchen as she sat talking with Rick now both looking at me

I went and sat with them as I took off my jacket and laid it over the back of the chair

“Oh ya, was just…….sorry”

“Did you have any supper?” Rick asked smiling gently

“No im not really hungry but ummm where’s Judith?” I asked trying to change the subject as I looked around looking for her

“We set her up in the crib up stairs, tomorrow we are gonna start picking rooms between the two houses, my rooms next to Judith’s, so me and Michonne will be staying up there tonight” Rick said

“Hmmmm I see” I didn’t wanna split up just yet it made me anxious

“Who else is staying in this house?”

“Carls got a room up there then Daryl is staying in the basement” Michonne said

“Is there other rooms downstairs?” I asked feeling most safe around Daryl now it might help ease my anxiety with the house splitting

“Ya do you wanna stay down there too?”

“If that’s okay I’d like to” I said biting on my lip nervously

“Of course sweetie” Michonne smiled

“Okay well I’m gonna stay there tonight so good night” I said getting up to head to my new room

I see Daryl across the hall laid on his bed keeping the door open which made sense, not wanting to fully close ourselves off from the group, I looked at my new room plain cream white walls, a double bed with blue sheets, a bed side table with a lamp and a dresser

I checked in the dresser seeing there was some tops and pants, I pulled out a black tank top and a pair of sweats I sighed in comfort, finally being able to wear comfortable clothes, no bra was nice for once as well not having the rickety worn wire digging into my ribs

I opened up the window a bit just to still feel that breeze then pulled back the covers of the bed and sliding in feeling that fresh cool touch of the sheets in my bare arms, it was so comforting in a way reminding me of the old day before everything happened but I also had this nagging feeling that I should be out there, out side of the walls fighting every second it was a weird feeling knowing it was miserable out there, maybe I just missed what I had out there, how I felt with Carl

Walkers were everywhere groaning and reaching trying desperately to rip me apart, I screamed for Carl seeing him across the clearing not being bothered by the walkers

“CARL PLEASE SAVE ME” I screamed desperately feeling hands all over me but he just turned around seeing Enid pull him away

That’s when I felt my skin being ripped apart my nerves torn the pain unbearable

I woke with a scream shooting up in bed huffing feeling my chest rise and fall rapidly as my heart thrummed in my ears

“Y/n hey it’s okay”

I looked to the edge of the bed beside me and it was Carl holding my shoulders with a distressed look on his face

“You left me” I said feeling the tears build against my water line

“What do you mean I’m right here?” He asked as he started rubbing my arm

“No you’re not, you’re not here with me anymore Carl, you left me for Enid I never even get to spend time with you anymore, you never hold me anymore, you never say those sweet things to me, was I just a distraction for you on the road did what we shared mean nothing to you?” My lip now quivering as his eyes widened

“I…..I’m sorry I didn’t realize I hurt you like this, I would never purposely hurt you, you know how I feel about you”

“No I don’t Carl because you’ve never told me” I dawned on him that he never got the chance to tell you since Aaron came and it distracted him

“I love you y/n not Enid, how could I like her when I have the most beautiful, kind hearted, generous, loving girl right in front of me, I was just hanging out with her because she was having problem with her boyfriend, I love you y/n always have but I promise to never make you feel like this again” he said as he grazed my cheek with his fingers

“I love you too Carl, please just talk to me more because I hate feeling shut off from you”

“I will I promise” he smiled as he leaned in placing a gentle kiss to my lips

His confession lifted a huge weight off my chest making things feel a lot more normal again

Taglist: @eiirqgi

Part.3<-

[softlyspector]

please please pleaseeeee give me forehead kisses with joel miller because this man is an expert in forehead kissing i just know it 🫠🫠🫠

thank you very much ily you’re super cool

summary: joel comes home looking a little worse for wear.

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

a/n: anon, you are just so right, he is an expert in forehead kisses. i combined this with "picking a leaf/flower petal out of their hair, or brushing dirt off of their face" because i couldn't help myself.

Spring sunshine is still fading on the horizon in a blaze of shell pink and midnight blue, when Joel climbs the front steps. 

“Hey, stranger,” you say, lifting a hand to shield your eyes from the last rays filtering through the new growth on the tree that overhangs the porch. “You’re looking a little worse for wear.” 

Joel grunts when he thumps down on the porch swing next to you, making the chain rattle. “Rough day,” he answers too mildly for someone with blood drying on the side of his neck. He bends to unlace his boots without another word.

You fold down the page of the battered paperback in your hands. It’s a much loved copy, one of your favorites that Joel had found years ago in a ransacked bookstore. It’s water stained and creased, the pages yellowed and crinkled beneath your fingers. The spine is duct taped together and the cover is peeling. 

Joel tried to give you a new copy a few years back, with a glossy cover and smooth pages, but you’ve been unable to part with the one in your hands. 

It’s been through so much with you, and in a lot of ways, it reminds you of Joel. It reminds you of the two of you together, and how far you’ve come. 

“Hm,” you acknowledge his words. You consider him with a tilt of your head, setting your book to the side. His gray hair is mussed, sticking up in tufts. A thin line of blood in his beard tinges it red. The collar of his jacket is askew. “Certainly looks that way.” 

“Damn clicker got the jump on me,” he grumbles. 

“A clicker?” You repeat, your shoulders drawing up, tension knotting along your spine.

There must be alarm in your tone though you try to hide it, because he turns his head to the side to meet your eyes, finally working off one of his boots. “I’m fine. Not bitten.” 

Something loosens in your chest, strangling the soft spots of your heart. “Well, I’d hope they wouldn’t let you come back,” you say brusquely.

“Mm.” His other shoe comes off in his hand and he finally sits back with a groan. 

You take his hand into yours, tracing the veins in the back of his hand as you scoot closer to him, until your thigh is pressed against his. “Where’s Ellie?” 

“With those friends of hers, probably. Not curfew yet.” 

“Suppose not.” Joel shifts his hand to thread his fingers through yours, squeezing tightly, a quiet reassurance. “You get somethin’ to eat yet?”

“I was waiting for you,” you say, reaching up to pluck a twig from his hair and then a tiny leaf. “My, it does look like you took a tumble,” you tease, flicking both away. 

He rolls his eyes, “Hush, sweetheart.” His eyes flick over your face, a delicately fond expression pulling over his features. 

It’s a look you’ll never really get used to, not when directed at you at least. 

A look that is reserved only for you. 

“You still reading this old thing?” Joel asks, picking up your book with his free hand. “Christ, sweetheart, you know we got other books, right?”

“This one is my favorite though.” 

He nods semi-thoughtfully, flipping it over to read the back. “Can’t even tell what it's about,” he says with a shake of his head. The book is so worn that most of the words have rubbed off the flimsy cover. 

“Well, maybe you can borrow it sometime. Now that you have those glasses maybe you can actually see to do it.” 

He chuckles and puts it back down. It’s a nice sound, Joel’s laugh. Usually he just snorts and rolls his eyes. “Maybe you can just read it to me. Like one of them books on tape.” 

“Sure, Joel,” you roll your eyes and lean into his shoulder. “Are you alright? You need checked out or anything?” 

“Sounds like you’re worried about me,” he teases. “I’m fine, just a little bruised,” he says more soberly when you level a glare at him. “Why don’t you tell me what’s so special about that damn book? I got you that newer one, didn’t I?” 

You reach up and swipe a streak of dirt from Joel’s forehead, cupping his cheek for a moment before you let your touch slip away. “You did. But, you gave me this one first,” you pick it up and toy with the frayed edge of a piece of peeling duct tape. “You remembered it was my favorite and picked it up. You pretended like you didn’t know though, and made a show of making me come look at it after we cleared that bookstore out.” 

Joel doesn’t answer and you tip your chin up to meet his gaze. 

He clears his throat and glances away. “Hard to keep track and all,” he says gruffly, like it all wasn’t precisely archived in his mind. “Between your books and Ellie’s damn comics.” 

You roll your eyes, watch him squint into the dusk that’s rapidly falling over the porch, your quiet little street. He’s aged the last few years. His hair is grayer, the crinkles by his eyes deeper. 

He’s as pretty as he’s always been, in a rough, bruised kind of way. 

“Joel,” you say clearly. “I won’t get rid of it because you gave it to me and it went through a lot with both of us. It’s like it's us, in a way.” 

He nods slowly at you, before leaning down to gather up his boots. 

You smile at his back, turning away to pick up where you’d left off in your book, when his boots thump back down onto the wooden floorboards. 

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he’s gathered you up against him. One arm rests around your back, his opposite hand cups your jaw to draw you closer to him when his lips press against your forehead. 

You close your eyes to the sensation of his lips against your skin, the scrape of his beard against your eyebrow. Joel’s hand shifts from your cheek to cradle the back of your skull in a touch that’s so gentle it nearly feels unreal. 

He holds you there for a long moment. His chest rises and falls with the slow intake of breath, like he’s deliberately trying to keep it even. 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s breathing you in, inhaling you one long breath at a time.

You do the same, swearing that you can feel his heartbeat echoing beside yours. He smells like the woods, like fresh leaf and grass, and soil. Beneath that, leather and gunpowder. 

His arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against his chest. It’s quiet, the sounds of crickets starting up, the sounds of night pouring in as you dig your fingers into his shirt, holding him there. 

Eventually, he pulls back, tilting your head back to look into your eyes for a brief moment when you blink them open. 

Darkness cocoons the street, the porch, the two of you. “Hi,” he says, like you haven’t been sitting there talking for a while, his thumb stroking a slow path down the side of your cheek. “I take it you didn’t fight any clickers today?” 

“Clicker free day for me,” you smile.

“Good,” he gets to his feet with a groan, picking his boots up in one hand. “Let’s get somethin’ to eat, find that damn kid.”

You smile and start to stand when Joel leans over you again and presses one last kiss to the crown of your head. He tips your head up and pecks your lips too, before he turns and disappears into the house. 

You aren’t sure what you did to warrant the affection, but you’ll always take what you can get.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

[svechnikovvv]

adore you

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: profanity

summary: jack has it down bad for you and you can’t seem to see that

a/n: sorry it’s taken me so long to publish this & for the sake of the fic, your fictionally older brother’s name is ryan

series masterlist: here

i get so lost inside your eyes / i’d walk through fire for you / lately you’ve been on my mind

it started when you & jack were both six.

***

you were in your front yard with your older brother and the two of you were playing hide and seek and it was his turn to count. you had the genius idea to hide in a tree because, why not? however, what you didn’t think about was how you’d get down.

“ready or not, here i come!” you hear ryan shout from the front porch. about five minutes pass and you think he won’t find you until you hear his voice.

“i see you y/n!” you look down below you and low and behold, your brother’s standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“i don’t like you at all.” you pout and he laughs

“come on, it’s your turn to count.” you sigh dramatically and try your best to climb back down the tree. however, that plan seems to fail, and you fall out the tree onto your arm. a sharp pain shoots through your wrist and it has you immediately crying. ryan runs inside to go get your dad as you sit on the grass holding your hurting wrist.

a hand then outstretches itself to you and you look up and see a brunette boy smiling at you. he has one of his front teeth missing. you give him your hand that’s not hurting and he helps you up.

“what’s your name?” you sniffle and his smile grows

“i’m jack. i just moved in next door.” jack thought you were the prettiest girl his little six year old eyes had ever laid themselves on. and you, of course, thought boys still carried cooties.

“y/n, sweetheart, let’s get you to a hospital.” both you and jack look at your dad coming outside with ryan behind him.

“ill see you later. i hope your wrist is okay.” jack says his goodbyes and you, your brother, and dad head to the hospital.

the three of you got home late that night and sure enough, you broke your wrist. you had to get a cast later that week and it was very difficult to try and figure out how to go about your day with it on.

a knock sounds through your house and your dad answers it.

“y/n, there’s someone here for you!” you get off the couch where you were watching cartoons and head over to the door and see jack standing there with a bag of sharpies.

“i came to sign your cast,” he smiles and you look down at the white, barren cast with no signatures and you hold out your wrist to him. jack scrawls his name in big letters on your cast with a little doodle off hockey stick next to it, and your dad watches the small interaction with a smile on his face.

“jack, why don’t you tell your parents that they should come over tonight for dinner.” jack looks up at the sound of your father’s voice and nods, taking his bag of sharpies and heading back home.

this was the start to an amazing friendship.

***

ever since that day, jack and you have been inseparable. you two were like siamese twins. wherever one went, the other wasn’t far behind. he stuck with you throughout the awkwardness in middle school, which was peak jack & y/n.

the big question: did you ever see him as anything more than a best friend? not really. but jack? he was head over heels for you, and it only got worse in highschool.

jack knew it was stupid to have a crush on his best friend for this long, but look at you. you were his dream girl. he swore to himself that he would wait as long as he had to for you.

you were so supportive of his hockey career and came to every game you could attend. you would also support his brothers and he loved how you bonded with them like they were your own. you remembered everything he told you and you always threw him the best surprise parties for his birthday. you got along with his friends, and to be honest, they thought the two of you were a thing to begin with.

but a bonus? seeing you sport his jersey at every single hockey game. there was nothing more rewarding than seeing you cheering for him in the stands with that familiar hughes jersey. to top it off, you’d always wait for him after every game to give him his post-game hug.

“sweaty or not, hughes, i need my post-game hug.” was your go-to line and jack would be lying if he said he didn’t have it memorized. like the way he memorized how your eyes lit up when he’d come out the locker room. or the way your nose would scrunch up when he’d get his sweat on you. jack noticed everything about you.

fast forward to his draft day. you wet right by his side and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. with quinn in the league, he felt like he had a lot to live up to. but when they called his name for the first overall pick, that all flew out the window.

***

both you and jack looked at each other with shocked faces and you both stood up, embracing the other in a hug. you weren’t even the one being drafted, but the moment still felt so surreal to you. the ringing in your ears had become louder and it felt like only you and jack were in the room.

you pull apart from the hug and place both hands on jack’s shoulders. tears were streaming down your face and you were wearing the biggest smile. jack swore that in that moment, nobody was more beautiful than you. his y/n. and that’s when reality set in with him. the girl he’s lived next to for most of his life, he’s be leaving soon. he wouldn’t get to see you every day. he wouldn’t get to take just a couple steps next to his house and already be at yours. no, you guys would be miles apart now.

he broke out of his thoughts and shoved them down, focusing on the present.

“i’m so proud of you, j.” he swiped the tears away from under your eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. he then gave the rest of his family hugs and walked to the stage to receive his devils’ jersey. the whole time he had his eyes focused on you. the fluorescent lighting above lit up your face just enough to make you look ethereal in his eyes, even more than you already did.

***

jack will say, his rookie year was tough. and even more so because he didn’t have you by his side at all. you were at boston, the school you’ve dreamed of going to and he couldn’t be more proud of you.

***

you had the hughes clan plus your dad and brother with you in your living room as you propped up your ipad and dialed jack, and on the second ring, he picked up.

“hey gorgeous.” he smiled from the other side

“woah j, your hair’s growing out.” you paused “please don’t say you’re getting a mullet.” everyone laughed and shook his head

“not these luscious locks. who’s with you?” you maneuver the ipad to show everyone with you and he says hi to everyone and they catch up for a bit before ellen nudges you.

“right.” you cough a bit and jack’s attention falls onto you and you hold up an envelope from boston university.

“is that?” you nod

“the answers lie in this envelope and i’m shaking so bad right now because oh my god jack, what if i don’t get in?” your rambling was always one of his favorite things about you.

“hey, whatever happens, happens. just know, it’ll all be okay, alright? you’re a smart girl, so boston would be stupid not to accept you.” you take a deep breath in and nod. ellen places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly.

“okay, here goes nothing.” you carefully tear open the envelope and pull out a piece of paper folded up into threes. you look back at jack and he nods encouragingly. you unfold the paper and begin to read it.

accepted

you drop the paper and look at jack, tears welling into your eyes.

“well?” he asks eagerly

“i got accepted!” you start to cry and jack’s smile widens.

“oh my god!” ellen’s the first to pull you into a hug and jack wishes nothing more than to be there right now, holding you in his arms.

“awh, jack’s crying.” luke says, and you pull away from the hug to look at the ipad in front of you. you sit back down and wipe at your eyes, softly smiling.

“don’t let your mascara run over me, j.” he laughs and looks up, then looking back at you.

“i’m so so proud and happy for you, y/n/n. more than you know.”

***

ever since college started for you though, communication hasn’t been the best between the two of you. you’ve both been so busy with your own things, and when you do talk, it’s not for very long.

however, when jack gets an invitation in the mail that says, “you’re invited to y/n l/n’s graduation!” he cancels anything he had planned on that date and he makes it his priority to be there.

***

jack wore one of his game day suits since the red would go well with the school colors and he makes the long drive to boston. he sees his mom’s familiar car and parks near it, getting out and making his way to look for his family and yours. once he spots them, due to luke’s tall head, he makes his way over.

“jack!” his mom is the first one to give him a hug and he smiles, hugging her back.

“hey ma, i missed you.”

“oh i missed you too sweetheart.” they pull apart and he says more hellos to the rest of his family, then taking his spot beside your brother. soon, the ceremony begins and when your name is called, everyone erupts into cheer. jack’s smile could not possibly get bigger than it is right now. you did it. you finally did it.

once everyone was called, the graduates were allowed to go to their families. you stood on a chair to look for the hughes’ and your dad and brother when you suddenly feel two arms wrap around your waist, twirling you around. you’re laughing and they set you down and you’re face-to-face with jack. you didn’t know if he’d be able to make it or not. and when did he get so muscly?

“oh my god. jack!” you jump into his arms and he laughs, holding you up. “you’re here. you’re really here.” you whisper and he places a kiss to the side of your head.

“i wouldn’t miss your graduation even if i was on my death bed. nothing is more important than watching you walk across that stage.” you sniffle and oh how you missed your best friend.

“i did it, j.”

“and i’m so proud of you, you hear me?” he sets you back down and pulls apart to look at you.

“i thought i was the only one that looks good in red, but i’m starting to think you proved me wrong.” you laugh and the sound is so melodic to jack’s ears. he needed to tell you how he felt soon, because seeing you right now is making his heart have palpitations.

***

since your graduation, you’ve moved to jersey and you teach first grade at one of the local elementary schools. jack was ecstatic when you told him you were moving to jersey. he even convinced you to buy a place near him. he even introduced you to his teammates. they all loved you, of course, and jack was glad to see you getting along with them.

he even bought you a hughes jersey and a ticket to the devil’s home opener. it was one thing to watch him play on your tv, but in person on the ice? even better.

that soon became a routine: go to every devil’s home game that you could and of course take pictures for your students to see.

fast forward to today. it was raining nonstop today and you had to have indoor recess for the kids, so you’d been stuck with them longer than usual, and you were starting to develop a headache. the odds just weren’t in your favor today.

as you were driving home, your tire went flat so you were stuck in the rain on the side of the road. so you call the only person you could think of.

“j, can you come pick me up? my tire went flat on the side of the road.”

in ten minutes, jack’s pulling up near your car and you get out and make your way to his passenger side. the car is a lot warmer compared to the outside temperature and you turn on your seat-warmer to hopefully help you a bit. in no time, he’s pulling up to your house and you get out without saying a word to him. you were tired and needed a nap and an advil.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he grabs your wrist before you can get inside and you shake your head. his headlights were beaming on the two of you and they were making your head hurt even more. the cold rain was also pelting down on the two of you and you hated the feeling of wet clothes.

“nothing. i’ve just had an awful day.” you release your wrist from his hold and walk up your front steps, putting the key in the door.

“i’m always here to listen, you know?”

“yes, jack, i know. but my head is killing me so i need to go lay down and get out of these wet clothes.”

“why won’t you talk to me? you used to tell me everything.” this set you over the edge and you turned around.

“jackson hughes, we’re grown adults now. we’re not the kids we used to be.”

“okay, but i’m your best friend.” you let out a frustrated sigh because you could not believe he was doing this right now.

“just go home, okay? we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“don’t you see it?” he says weakly

“quite frankly, i can’t see anything. there’s rain on my glasses. but enlighten me as to why you have me standing here in the pouring rain confused, rowden.” you used his middle name. you hardly ever did that.

“i’m in love with you, y/n! how blind are you? i’ve been so in love with you since the day you fell out your tree years ago when we were six. you’re all i think about before i go to sleep and when i wake up. and it’s been so hard to be your best friend all these years when all i want is nothing more than to be your boyfriend. lately you’ve been on my mind more than usual and when you- god, when you look at me with those eyes.

“i get lost. i forget where i’m at and i want to bask in that feeling forever. the feeling of just your eyes on me. like my draft day back in 2019 when it felt like we were the only two in the room. you’re the only person i’ve ever considered seeing myself with.”

you were rendered speechless. you cant lie and say that the thought of dating jack hadn’t crossed your mind before, because it has. it’s like the stars aligned because next thing you know, your feet are carrying you to jack and you attach your lips to his. he’s quick to reciprocate and you feel those metaphorical fireworks go off.

the two of you pull away and jack’s smiling wide.

“does this mean-” you cut him off and hit his shoulder, making him laugh.

“yes. now turn your car off and come inside where it’s warm.” he nods and you head inside, making your way to your bathroom to grab towels for the both of you.

“leave your shoes by the door!” you call out from your bedroom and jack makes his way to you, and you stick out some dry clothes to him.

“you can use the guest shower.” he nods and the two of you take your showers to better clean yourselves and change into the dry clothes.

later that night, you’re cuddled up on the couch together, going through a keepsake box you had (which was an old shoe box). you then pull out a card and both jack and you give each other a confused look. you open the card and gasp when you do. jack had a look of remembrance on his face as well and your heart melts at the memory.

***

you loved valentine’s day because it meant free candy and what seven year old doesn’t like free candy? the teacher let the girls pass out their valentines to the class first, and then the boys did theirs.

you were sitting at your desk, coloring away at a valentine’s day coloring sheet the teacher printed out for everyone, when a teddy bear, a card and some candy is placed in front of you. you set your fuchsia crayon down and look up to see jack standing there, face reddening.

“happy valentine’s day y/n.” he gave you his one-missing-tooth smile and you smiled back at him.

“thank you jack. i love it!”

***

“i should’ve seen the signs back then.” you trace your finger over jack’s first grade handwriting and softly smile, setting the card back in the box.

“whatever happened to that bear i got you?” you get up and walk into your bedroom, coming back out with the small, stuffed bear. jack gasps and you fondly smile at him.

“i couldn’t get rid of rowdy.”

“rowdy?” he quirks a brow at you and you nod

“named him after my favorite person ever.” jack pulls you into his side and kisses the side of your head.

he adored you more than anything in this world.

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @liquidflyer @alhanna05 @woodruff-edwards @i-padfootblack-things @fanboysfangirl @hughesx3 @austinbutlerscaresme @theywantedplayer @jackhues @marauderzkinnie @jackhughesily @babydollmarauders @akengii @bordeleaubeau @tomhollandsbabymama @starsandhughes @nowandkei @angzls @jhughesl0v3r

a/n: GAH, having mixed emotions about this

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #nhl hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #fine line series!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I got Leeloo when she was seven weeks old. The owner lied, or miscounted, and I got her a week too young. She was pretty well adjusted for all that, feisty and fierce as a kitten. I got her right as my ex and I were splitting. She was only a month or two old when we broke up. It was pretty wretched, finals week at college, both of us heart sore, and then we both came down with the mother of all coughs.

He was sleeping on the couch. I offered to share my cough suppressant and he set it on the table. We weren’t used to having a kitten under foot yet.

I was brushing my teeth when I glanced out the door and saw one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen, my beloved kitten on her side seizing, the pill capsule punctured and empty beside her. He burst into panicked tears when I shouted and I practically shook him to get in the car while routing to an emergency vet.

We sat clutching each others hands in the waiting room. Neither of us had known who would get the kitten in the breakup. But sitting there, both of us sobbing, he said it should be me. The doctor told us she had a fifty fifty shot of pulling through. She’d almost asphyxiated, her tongue was blue when we’d gotten her in the door.

After what felt like centuries they came out and said she’d made it. She was going to live.

It was only a few months later that I noticed her not walking around. She barely played anymore. I took her to the vet again and they said she was just constipated and didn’t follow up. Another pestering a week later led to closer examination of her X-rays. Turns out, the asphyxiation had led to a very narrow blood vessel leading to the head of her femur dying. So her bone had snapped off in the joint.

Horrified at the amount of pain she must have been in I got her in for surgery to remove the bone fragment. In a human we’d stop being able to walk, but cats have enough muscle to overcome a simple thing like lacking the ball for their ball and socket joint.

The surgery was a shit show. They called me after putting her under anesthesia and cutting her up open only to realize they were missing a tool. Then they sent her home with an open wound instead of stitches and I had to bring her back yet again to go under and get stapled shut. Then they tried to charge me for all their fuck ups while I was already sobbing over vet bills.

I had a loft bed at the time. Usually she climbed a cat tree to join me in bed at night but after her surgery I made a nest on the ground so I could cuddle with her every night. Her dopey little face looking at me from her cone was worth my back hurting every day.

I felt so bad watching her try to eat with a cone that I hand fed her every meal. To this day she’ll go sit by the food dishes, looking at me longingly to remind me of my little nest on the ground where I’d hand fed her.

That was a decade ago. But she still remembers.

Today I got her new medicine for her horrible cough, fretting about her lungs collapsing. I lovingly rolled each pill and brought them to her an hour early because I couldn’t stand having medicine on hand that I wasn’t giving her.

It was only after she’s happily eaten her pill pockets that I remembered the pills saying to give them with food. So I walked back upstairs and stood beside the cat bed while she ate from my hand again, and when she was done she looked at me with love. Because she doesn’t feel good but I’m still here to hand feed her.

#ramblies #Leeloo #she’s had so much medical bullshit #and this is already going long but I was living paycheck to paycheck when things broke bad #and a friend anonymously donated to pay for her surgery #I found out who it was years later and I’ll never stop being grateful #and I’ll never stop being grateful for that act of generosity #it sucks being poor again fretting over leeloos health again #but at least this time I have a credit score and a savings account #I want the antibiotics to just magically make her feel better instantly #ffs foibles

[apoemaday]

Birches

by Robert Frost

When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust — Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows — Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father’s trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It’s when I’m weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig’s having lashed across it open. I’d like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate willfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love: I don’t know where it’s likely to go better. I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

#poetry #robert frost #birches

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Spring Date HCS (Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo)

I always love it when spring finally comes around. Even though the grass where I live is almost perpetually green (like wtf??!! How can it be freaking Christmas and some of the grass is green?!!!), I love seeing the trees start to bud out. And the sun. Having the sun out more is nice too

Under the cuts, spring dates with Kaeya, Diluc,  and Albedo

GN reader

cw: slight mention of after hours fun. Not much because that’s a different set off head canons entirely, but it’s there

Kaeya

His first suggestion was to go drinking

Of course the answer was no, not happening

So instead you’re walking around on the Mondstadt version of a mall date

Kaeya seems like he’s the type who looooves PDA, so he’s always holding your hand

Or maybe you’re holding his hand because he’s definitely the type to tease you with little touches that are designed to turn the date very R18 by the end of the day

To be fair, he really doesn’t have to try that hard

He’s hot and charming and he uses it to full effect

In the evening you two climb up venti’s statue (Kaeya is a charmer and will happily go the extra mile. Probably made you a pretty staircase else style to get up there too hehe)

You sit and he pulls you closer so that your head rests against his chest

And the two of you want the sunset from the best seats in city

Diluc

Have you seen this man’s voice lines?

The guy is sweet as hell (10/10 would date)

He picked you up, right on time and had roses waiting. Really nice ones because he can definitely afford them

Instead of staying in the city, you two went out on horse back

Brought a picnic lunch

But most of the time is spent riding and talking. Or riding and not talking. 

The both of you are just happy to have a day off with no real itinerary

Just let the wind lead

So around lunch time you guys find a nice spot-- preferably slime free, but Diluc doesn’t have any problems clearing a spot for you if the spot is nice enough’

You eat lunch and continue just handing out

Really date day is the day that both of you can just be you

You watch the sunset while you’re out

And when you get back into the city he walks you to your door, gives you a goodbye kiss that might turn into more but shhh

Albedo

Last but not least

Our favorite Mondstadt nerd

It’s not on Dragonspine

You put your foot down on that one. No freezing on a spring date

You also handed off Klee to Kaeya archons save us all so the two of you have time alone

I’d say it’s a work date, because his work is basically being as curious as possible, but really, his focus is on you

He can’t stop being curious

But he’ll spend the entire time studying you, figuring out what makes you laugh and smile and then work on doing those things

He seems like the kind who remembers all of the small stuff

If you told him your favorite flower, that’s what he brings you when he picks you up or greets you at the foot of Dragonspine

After that you go exploring

Not unlike with Diluc, but with Albedo your wandering has a distinct purpose

For some reason the desire to know is just there when you’re around Albedo

Not that you’ll complain, not when his attention is on you

If your hair is in your face, he’ll tuck it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on the edge, feeling the skin only he gets to feel and feeling a certain amount of satisfaction that your his

Even if he doesn’t talk much, he listens. He’ll respond when need be, but he really does love to listen

While you’re out, you eat a picnic lunch he packed and then continue walking around

Instead of taking you home that night, he brings you up to his cave in Dragonspine

It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve spent there and it beats the noise of Mondstadt city in the spring

And there’s no one to hear if you decide the two of you want to do some more intimate experimentation

#I really need to do versions of these for other boys #it's such an easy concept #And it was sunny the day I put this post together #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x gn!reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya hcs #Diluc Ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x gn!reader #diluc hcs #diluc fluff #Albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x gn!reader #albedo hcs #albedo fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #teyvat talk

[bigiswarriorcatsdesigns]

Finished Brightheart design sheet.

This was difficult to draw. I spent a long time thinking her design and I tried to search the best way to portray her scars. It was hard to find accurate information in cats, so if anyone who reads this would like to offer some critique or advice I’d love to read it. 

More information:

o  Warning: this point contains details about her wounds and mental state, skip this point if you are 14 years old and younger or don’t feel okay reading this stuff, as it is graphic. Proceed with caution. Her right side scars were done while trying to climb a tree to get away from the dogs. Unfortunately though Swifpaw’s sacrifice gave Brightpaw time to react and try to escape, the dogs grabbed her hips from the left side. The rest of the scars were done because she curled on the floor leaving her left side exposed. That way she got heavy bite wounds on her face and torso. He face got the worse part. Both her left eye and ear is gone and some of her upper face was ripped off, thus her left eye socket is assimetrical. While on treatment her face got swollen and was in complete mental shock (Acute stress disorder if she was diagnosed in human standards). After taking her bandages off and a lot of work from Cinderpelt to stabilize her and avoid it from developing into a worse condition, she seemed to get to a better mental state... until she saw her reflection. Since then, both that incident and hearing Bluestar’s assigned name made her relapse and suffer mentally (Post-traumatic stress dissorder).  Later after treatment hair grew back, blending a bit her scars, but not fully. She still has nightmares and can’t bear the thought of dogs, but has learnt to accept her scars and self image and to stop blaming herself for Swiftpaw’s death. This was thanks to early intervention from Cinderpelt and Cloudtail’s emotional support. Firestar recognized her recovery and the pain that her assigned name brought her, and thus changed her name to Brightheart to honor her strength and kindness, as well as her strong will to live and never give up. I don’t have much experience in medical fields and while I did ressearch, I could have got it wrong. I’d appreciate input in that case so I can learn and change it. I take these topics seriously.

o As she got old her ginger patches started to become smaller as white hair grew on them. They also became slightly diluted and desaturated. Small spots from old age appeared on her face scars.

o Just because I’m not sure if it’s very telling, on her elder drawing she’s sleeping on Cloudtail’s back leg and tail. She likes to sleep like that because Cloudtail has a very soft and fluffy tail and gives her comfort.

#Warrior Cats #waca #bigi's warrior designs #bigiswarriorcatsdesigns #Thunderclan #Brightkit #Brightpaw #Brightheart #the prophecies begin #the new prophecy #power of three #Omen of the Stars #a vision of shadows #the broken code #firestar's quest #a thief in thunderclan #wounds #scars #dog attack #face injury

[sunlightmurdock]

The Parent Trap | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw x Ex-Wife!Reader

♡ Next Chapter | Masterlist

♡ In which, after a couple of years of listening to Peyton and Parker Bradshaw complain about their parents’ custody agreement, Grandpa Mav’s meddling goes a little bit too far.

♡ warnings: mentions of divorce throughout the fic, flashbacks to arguments and unhappily married people. Idiots who still love each other and don’t know it. (warnings will be added as story progresses).

…

“God dammit.” You sigh, leaning down into the passenger side footwell to grab your phone. After your hasty parking job, it’s wedged pretty securely under the metal bottom of the seat, impossible to reach from the angle you’re sitting in. You move up onto your knees and lean over, rummaging around for the lost device. This is the last thing you need.

It’s the third week of the semester and the second time so far that you’ve been called into the principal’s office.

The faint sound of seventies music coming from somewhere behind your shoulder alerts you to your ex-husband’s presence before you can see him. Shit, it must be bad if Rooster left work for it.

He turns his engine off and glances to his left. His lips quirk softly at the sight before him. You, in a pair of tight denim shorts, bent over the centre console and leaning down into the passenger side, searching for something. His smirk only grows as he steps down from his truck and swings the door shut behind him, tapping on the window of your 2018 Toyota corolla.

You flinch at the sound and turn your head to look back at him over your shoulder. He smiles, lifting his hand and waving his fingers at you. No matter how long passes between you seeing him, he always looks the same — and he’s usually got that smug look on his face. You roll your eyes and turn back towards your mission.

It’s been two years since the divorce became official. Still, Bradley glances down at those form fitting shorts and reminisces. It’s an outfit like that that got you into this mess in the first place. Fingers curling around your phone, you huff and catch ahold of your bag, then sit upright again. Rooster grabs the door and pulls it open, stepping out of your way.

“How’s it going, Mama?”

You scoff, shaking your head as you drape the tote over your shoulder and slip your phone into your back pocket. “I’d be better if your kids stopped being such miscreants.”

He chuckles, flightsuit tied around his waist and gold rimmed sunglasses covering his eyes. The teachers around here always go wild when he shows up like this. “My kids, huh?”

You step around him and nod your head, wishing that you were less familiar with the path to the principal’s office than you currently are. Rooster trails behind you, taking another quick glance down at those shorts he’s so fond of, “Did they tell you what we’re here for?”

“No, the lady on the phone just said that Principal James needed to speak to the both of us.” Rooster confirms your suspicions. This must be pretty bad. You groan in frustration, pushing through the front door.

“That’s what they told me too — I wonder what they did now.” You can only shake your head at the thought as the two of you sign in and are led to the principal’s office. Rooster takes his time, looking around at the colourful artwork on the walls, seemingly unfazed by whatever havoc your children have caused this time. He’s always so calm when it comes to them. He had been so different in the beginning. Terrified when those two blue lines showed up. Nauseous when the doctor confirmed that there were two heartbeats. He had almost blacked out during your labour. You can still remember the way he had periodically baby proofed not only the place that you shared, but also his Uncle Maverick’s house and your parents’ place. Anywhere his kids were going needed to be up to his standard.

Somewhere after the year mark, they had become significantly less fragile in his eyes. When they’re jumping off of high surfaces or climbing trees, dangling off of the slide at the park, he’s usually nearby with a smile on his face. He likes seeing his kids be more carefree than he ever was in childhood.

Rounding the corner, the girls’ reactions to the two of you are exceptionally polarized. When you had been told that you were expecting identical twin girls, you had expected the polar opposite trope — a mischievous daredevil tomboy and a goodie-two shoes who loved to dress up. Instead, you had received two partners in crime who were somehow all of those things at once. Freckled skin, rounded, rosy cheeks and long curls, it’s hard to tell them apart sometimes, but they still have their differences.

Peyton, Twin A — as determined by your first ultrasound, your firstborn, sits upright and beams at the two of you. It’s a rare occasion that she sees both of her parents in the same place these days. “Daddy!”

At her side, Parker, Twin B, your youngest, shrinks down in her chair in immediate realization. If you’re both here, then they’re in big trouble. For a seven year old, she’s getting good at reading the room. She turns those big brown eyes towards the ground and purses her lips.

Peyton leaps up and rushes forwards, wrapping her arms around Rooster’s waist, pressing her freckled cheek into her stomach. He grunts softly as she hits into him, then breaks out grinning as he hugs her against his middle, “Hey, Honeybee.”

He looks towards his remaining daughter. Parker glances up sheepishly, hands folded into her lap. Bradley smiles softly, “How about you, Peanut? — You got a hug for Daddy?”

You fold your arms over your chest as he pushes herself up from the chair. Bradley settles down onto his knees, opening up his arms and taking one of them in each. He hums as he hugs them tightly against him, then pulls back and scrunches his nose just slightly. “So, what’d you guys do?”

The twins stop and then share and equally worrisome glance. You squint at the two of them. “Girls.” You prompt.

“It was an accident!”

“Yeah, we didn’t mean to!”

Rooster lifts his head and this time it’s your turn to share equally worried looks. The door clicks open ahead of you.

Principal James steps out and rests her wrinkled hands on her hips. Rooster stands upright at your side. Under that cold, weathered gaze, it suddenly feels like the two of you are the ones in trouble. You swallow softly as she lifts a hand and beckons you into her office without a word.

“Sit down, girls, we’ll be right back.” You say softly, tapping their shoulders and nudging them back towards their seats. Rooster tucks his sunglasses into the collar of his black t-shirt and closes the oak office door behind him. You sit down in one of the chairs opposite her impressive, heavy mahogany desk.

She has been teaching for twenty years, and your twins have still managed to surprise her on this occasion.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bradshaw, I wish I could say that it’s a pleasure to be speaking with you today,” Her tone is sharp. Rooster presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, whilst you count the tiles on the ceiling. “Unfortunately, today’s meeting has a rather unpleasant subject matter. Are you at all aware of the twins’ mission to… impersonate each other?”

Rooster’s lips quirk. They’ve been trying to swap places since they were two. They usually get caught pretty quickly. They’ve done it at school before, but they always mess up quickly. Their longest record for being undetected was three days at your parents’ house. “Yeah, they do that as a joke sometimes.”

“Well, today they switched outfits in the bathroom and went into each other’s classes.”

Your brows scrunch slightly. Sure, it’s a dumb thing to do, but it can’t be a punishable offense to swap outfits with your sister. Principal James looks between the two of you and finds no remorse on either of your faces so far. Clearly you aren’t following.

“Has Parker ever mentioned a boy named William Prescott?”

“Oh my god.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Bradley frowns at your side, looking between you and the principal, lost. You turn your head. “He’s been picking on her. He pushed her down in the playground last week.”

“That’s what that cut on her knee was? — She said she tripped.” Bradley frowns, immediately engaging in that protective parent mode that’s neither helpful or impressive.

“She didn’t want to tell you because she knew you’d freak out.” You explain sitting back in the chair and rubbing at your temples. Her judgemental stare is just about enough to bring you out in a stress rash.

“So, why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley’s tone is accusatory, his expression even more so. He’s always been protective when it comes to his girls, including you not too long ago. It’s a sweet sentiment, but sometimes it’s too much and the girls are quickly picking up on that.

“Because I knew you’d freak out, and I already spoke to Billy’s mom about it.” You speak gently, acutely aware of the way that the principal’s crows feet deepen when she squints dubiously at you like she’s doing now. Rooster remains completely unaware of her judging your parenting at your side.

“Clearly that worked because —“

“The twins switched classrooms so that Peyton could, in their words, ‘take care of’ the issue.” Principal James interrupts. Both you and your ex-husband are silenced as you stare ahead at her. “Peyton proceeded to walk over to William’s desk and hit him in the face.”

You press a hand over your mouth and close your eyes, exhaling softly. Bradley sits back in the chair, leaning his head back and groaning quietly.

“At this moment in time, we have no choice but to place the twins on a short suspension.”

You purse your lips and wince. Seven years old and suspended for plotting out, and executing assault. This isn’t your proudest parenting moment.

“Suspension? — They’re in the second grade, it was just—“

“We won’t be reconsidering our decision, Mr. Bradshaw,” The principal interrupts, holding out a hand to silence him. He glances across at you. “There is some paperwork for you at the front desk, we look forward to having the girls back in a week’s time. Maybe the two of you could have a word with them about their behavior during their time off.”

Scolded, the two of you step out into the hallway, each of you silently blaming the other. The twins look at the two of you expectantly.

“Give us a second to talk, okay? — Don’t move, you’re both in big trouble.” Rooster warns them, his face stern. They frown at him in unison, then look towards each other. He reaches out, tapping his fingers against your forearm to nudge you away from the two of them. Once you’re out of earshot, he folds his arms over his chest.

“Alright, we should probably talk to them about this together, so I can swing by your place tonight after work. Like six?” He checks his watch and looks back up at you.

“Wait, wait — I can’t take them right now, I have meetings with clients all afternoon. Today’s your day to pick them up.” You frown at him. The custody agreement was fifty-fifty, two days with you, two days with him. It’s inconvenient for both of your schedules and the twins hate moving around as much as they do, but neither one of you has had the time recently to call up the lawyers and fix a new schedule.

“No, I have a debrief today that I’m already going to be late for. It’s your day.” Bradley shakes his head quickly and crosses his arms over his chest. Sometimes you think that he just does that to show off his arms. His biceps strain against the fabric of that fitted black shirt.

He’s bigger now than when you met him, filled out more into his adulthood. Years of lifting two growing girls up whenever they ask him to. Heading to the gym often so that they won’t outgrow being held by him.

Still, there’s a reason that it’s over and tanned skin and arm veins won’t change that.

“No, it’s Tuesday. The seventh.” You argue.

“Actually, it’s Wednesday. The seventh.” He mocks you back. Real mature. But, unfortunately— your phone confirms that he’s correct. You sigh and throw your head back. You’ve been so out of sorts all week, turned around with work and the kids.

Two kids running wild around a boutique that’s smaller than some of your clients’ closets. You can just see it now, them breaking into the expensive fabric whilst you’re distracted with clients. You shake your head quickly. “Shit. I can’t take them to work with me.”

Bradley purses his lips. Two kids on a naval base while he’s in a confidential meeting that they can’t sit in on sounds like an even worse idea.

When you found out you were expecting, the two of you had made an agreement that your career wouldn’t suffer as a result of parenthood. Given that Rooster is practically government owned, it’s hard for him to be as flexible as he would like. But, he has always made sure you had the support you needed. “Hold on, I’ll call Mav.”

It seems like a bad idea to send the twins to practically their favourite place on earth when they’re supposed to be being punished, but you’re out of other options.

“Idiot, I told you to wait until recess to—“ Parker’s voice trails as she spots her parents headed back in her direction. Peyton squints at the frown on her father’s face. The two of them learned early on that their Dad was wrapped around their fingers, he could barely stand to punish them and so he let them get away with more. The look on his face now tells them that he’s serious.

“I was doing you a favour.” Peyton whispers back angrily.

One look at their guilty little faces and they’re already tugging at your heartstrings. Still, you need to be strong.

“Your father and I have to get back to work, but we want you to know that we are taking this very seriously — we’re going to have a long talk about this later tonight, okay? — What you did was so wrong!”

Rooster glances across at you. Watching the same girl that he was doing body shots off of ten years ago turn out to be such a good mother is an interesting turn of events. He bites his cheek to contain his smile. If you told him back then that things would have turned out like this, with two incredible children, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

“We’re sorry.” They say at the same time, looking up at the two of you with those brown doe-eyes. It’s the winning combo, they inherited that puppy-dog look from their dad and mastered it years ago, and they are expressly aware of how funny Rooster finds it when they say the same thing at the same time.

As Rooster stands firm, both of you unwavering before them, your twins give in to their fate and sit back, groaning in complaint.

After his retirement last year, which he was practically forced into, kicking and screaming, Maverick was practically itching to babysit the girls every chance he gets. With Amelia off at college now, and Penny banning him from around the house DIY, he likes the chaos that they bring. For similar reasons, they adore Maverick.

“I’m serious, Mav,” Rooster frowns, his face stern as he holds the twins still. They’re practically buzzing with excitement at his sides as they wait to be allowed inside. “They’re in big trouble. No TV, no games. Have them sit there and finish the worksheets their teacher gave them, or have them clean the floors or something, I don’t care. No fun.”

Maverick takes a quick glance downwards at his freckle-faced granddaughters, both of them staring up at him in worry, hoping that he’ll disagree with their dad.

“Sure thing. I’ll keep ‘em busy.” Maverick agrees seriously, giving a quick, orderly nod of his head. The girls both frown, dejected as they pout at the wooden slats of the porch.

“Alright. If their Mom gets here before I do,” Bradley lowers his voice and squints at his uncle. “Do me a favour and please don’t be weird.”

“Weird? — I’m never weird.” Maverick answers defensively. Bradley squints at him. That’s far from true and they both know it. Maverick was always a big fan of you — you remind him of himself in some ways, and he’s always thought you were good for Bradley. Rooster still jokes that Maverick was more upset about the divorce than anyone else.

“Uh… alright. Be good for Mav, I’ll see you guys later. I love you.”

Maverick ushers the girls inside at once and waits until Bradley’s truck disappears down the road before he turns to address them. With it pouring rain outside, and the trouble they’re in, there’s limited fun that they can have. Something with no evidence. Before that, he needs a chore that they can complete that will satisfy Rooster but not take all afternoon and kill Mav’s fun.

“Alright, we’re clearing out the hallway closet, kids. Move it.”

An hour later, Maverick’s brows are furrowed as he’s thirty pieces into a two hundred piece puddle, sitting in the middle of the hallway floor. His navy expertise means that the twins have a good system, Peyton pulling down items, Parker sorting them into keep or toss.

Only, given the difficulty of piecing together the dozen shades of blue that make up the sailboat puzzle, Maverick hasn’t noticed that they stopped sorting through items five minutes ago. Now, they’re both leaning over a photo album, flicking through pictures.

“Is this Mommy?”

Maverick looks up, brows furrowed. He spins the album towards him without question and smiles at the picture. This was when he was teaching Top Gun that one time, it’s a picture of you at the beach, holding a football and posing with your arm flexed into a muscle.

“Yeah, look at this one.” Maverick flicks to the next page and spins it back towards the two of them. Their faces twist up in a mixture of excitement and amusement. It’s a picture of Rooster draped around you, squeezing you in his arms, his head resting against yours, the two of you beaming. Behind the two of you, the twins’ Uncle Jake is flexing both of his biceps, sticking his tongue out to bomb the picture.

“Daddy’s tummy doesn’t look like that anymore.” Parker snorts, shaking her head, cheeks dimpling as she looks up with a grin on her face. Maverick smiles. He sees so much of the both of you in the both of them.

“They look really really happy.” Peyton adds on.

Maverick nods. “They were. Here, you want to see some more?”

Chores quickly abandoned, daytime movie channel playing on the TV, cutting out every now and again as the weather screws with the signal, the living room floor is littered with old albums.

“Mommy’s wedding dress was so pretty.” Peyton traces her fingertips over the picture, examining the intricacies of the dress. Maverick smooth his hands over her curls and nods his head.

“That day was so special. Your Daddy was so nervous all day.” He chuckles fondly at the memory. Standing at the end of the aisle with Rooster and periodically reminding him to breathe. After so much missed time with Bradley, all of those years of not speaking, sitting here and listening to these delighted little giggles makes his heart warm.

He hadn’t ever been ready for children, but it turns out that being a grandfather was his calling. Passing on his stories, explaining funny faces and little anecdotes about each picture that they come across, seeing their little faces just light up.

They work through the wedding pictures, the work events, the beach days. The pregnancy, the birth, the newborn pictures.

“Is that me or her?” Parker asks as she squints at a picture of you holding a chubby-cheeked newborn on Mav’s porch, smiling tiredly. Maverick remembers that first year of parenthood, you and Bradley stumbling around half-awake that entire time.

“Honey, I’m not even sure who’s who right now.” Maverick admits with a smile. They roll their eyes fondly and continue to flip through memories they’re too small to remember.

They move onto pictures of their toddler years. Lots of pigtails and matching dresses back then, muddy knees and toothy grins. Peyton lingers on one page, lips falling down into a soft frown as she slips the picture from its place on the page.

It’s a picture of them in the backyard at their house, sitting in the sandpit that Rooster had built one summer after reading that it’s good for safety and motor skills all at once. Him, sitting in a pair of shorts and those gold rimmed sunglasses, shoulder reddened under the sun, dog tags hanging around his neck, grinning. Peyton, on his lap, eyes squeezed shut as she squeals excitedly, sand balled in her chubby fists. You, at his side, wearing a pretty sundress and grinning against his cheek, right about to kiss him once you can stop laughing. Parker standing between your legs, lips parted, staring towards the camera like she just heard something shocking.

Mav, behind the camera, his heart so full.

“I wish they were still together.” Peyton mumbles dejectedly. Her sister looks over and examines the picture, then gives a small nod. They hate being without one of you all of the time.

Maverick looks up and looks between the two of them. Those pouted lips, that sad look in those eyes. He looks back down at the happy couple in that picture. The two of you were so in love back then.

It should take him longer to think about than it does. He probably shouldn’t include them in the decision making, but it’s not the worst idea he has had in the past couple of years.

“Have you guys ever seen the Parent Trap?”

…

@thedroneranger @xoxabs88xox @khaylin27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @sufferingophelia

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

[lunitawrites]

Both Sides of the Moon - part two

pairing: biker!Joel Miller x fem!reader rating: explicit word count: 4.8k summary: After your first encounter with Joel you finally learn the truth about your family. a/n: hey! I am back with part two of this story, hope you will like it. Thanks for the edit and beta @papipascalispunk ! Please read the warnings carefully on this one!

Want to read a biker Joel story that's not depressing? Check out twin peaks by @toxicanonymity! More fic recs on part 1 of this series. TW: no-outbreak AU, age gap (reader mid-twenties, Joel is late forties), loss of parents, gun, knife, alcohol consumption, Joel being violent towards reader, injury caused by Joel, blood, minor blood play, masturbation (f), oral sex (f receiving), petnames, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n part 1 | masterlist

“I’m okay,” you whisper, “it's fine,” as your fingers smear the fog on the outside of the glass you are holding. “I just want to go home.” you say.

“Of course,” Sam answers, putting a hand on your shoulder, softly nudging you to stand up, “I’ll drive you.” 

“No, it's okay, I’ll be fine,” you insist after finishing the glass of water and putting it down on the diner table next to you.

“No, I’ll drive you home and stay with you tonight. Don't argue with me on this one,” he says as he stands up and starts walking towards the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a change of clothes and then we can go,” he calls back to you. ”Arlene, stay with her.”

“He treats me like a child,” you complain to Arlene as soon as he is out of sight.

“He cares about you,” she says softly, “we care about you.”

“I guess I'm just not used to that,” you confess. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, “that you are not.”  She stands up too then, reaching for your hand, ”Come on, let's get you something stronger than water.”

“You should go back home to your actual kids, Arlene, just let me wait for Sam here,” you laugh, but still follow her to the bar.

“Will you stop with that?”, she laughs too and reaches for a bottle behind the bar. “So, tequila?”, she asks.

“Only if you want to kill me,” you say, but the smile quickly disappears from your face as your voice falls flatly, “I’d rather have a whiskey.”

“Darlin’”, Arlene says, putting a glass in front of you, “Sam will tell you everything, I wasn’t living here when it happened – only heard rumors.”

“When what happened?”, you ask, “I feel like everyone is trying to keep me in the dark.”

“We’re just trying to protect you,” she says.

“Well, that didn't work out so well out there, did it?”, you say and down your drink in one go.

“Let's go!”, Sam says from the kitchen door, “Could you please close up, Arlene? You can come in later tomorrow if you want.”

“It's fine, it's fine,” she says, “Just go!”

You climb down from the bar stool and follow Sam out to the parking lot. He helps you up in the passenger seat of the truck and closes the door behind you.

You drive home in complete silence. Rolling down the window and letting the night air blow in your face, you still feel numb. You catch a glimpse of Sam looking over to you, but you don't say anything, you just lean against the door and watch the trees go by, attempting to process the utter confusion of the emotions you are experiencing.

The moment you saw Joel, you were shaken alive from your usual apathy. It was as if the muscle memory of your heart recognized something it knew from long ago, making it beat rapidly. Like suddenly your body remembered how to feel; a strange gravity in his presence waking a long-forgotten need inside you. A need to belong? You’re not sure. How can you feel like you belong to someone when you know you should be deadly afraid of them?

–

Sam takes a right turn driving up your driveway. He stops the car and rushes to your side to open the door for you and help you out. “What a gentleman,” you tease, and you see him slightly blush as he reaches for you. 

Feeling his blush, he clears his throat, “Let me get my bag, don’t walk without me.” 

“Okay, boss,” you say, leaning on the side of his truck.

“Hungry?”, he asks, grabbing his bag from the back.

“No, I just want to take a shower,” you say quietly while you walk up to your porch. You open the front door and gesture to the living room, “I’ll just shower quickly, but make yourself at home. Kitchen’s that way,” you cock your head to the left.

Sam looks at you with concern, as if even being alone upstairs is a threat to your safety. You can sense his hesitancy, reassuring, “I’ll be fine,” as you nod and run up the stairs. You quickly grab your shorts and t-shirt from the bedroom and head to the bathroom. You take a shower with what feels like nearly-boiling water; an attempt to wash away the fear and confusion of the night. You feel lighter after; walking down the stairs with your wet hair still dripping on your t-shirt. You look for Sam to find him in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

“I thought we might need it,” he says, gesturing to the steaming pot, “I suspect we have a long night ahead.” You feel a strange sense of domesticity, seeing him in your kitchen, a place where you don’t even usually host guests, let alone invite a man to stay over.

“Thanks,” you say, “But again, I think I need something stronger,” you say as you reach for the cupboard to pull a bottle of whiskey, pouring a fair amount in two glasses and leading the way to the living room. “Thank you for doing this, Sam,” you start as you extend one of the glasses to him, “I know I can be difficult sometimes, but I appreciate you caring enough to do this.”

He laughs as he takes the glass and makes himself comfortable on the couch. You eye the place next to him, but choose to sit on the armchair instead. You take a sip from your glass and lean back. “So, where do we start?”, you ask, getting the courage from the warming liquor in your stomach.

Sam sits up on the couch a bit more, setting his glass on the coffee table, running his thumb around the edge of it as his face becomes more serious. “How much do you know about your father’s death?” he asks.

“All I have are assumptions,” you say and take another sip from your glass, “I know he was in a gang and that they were smugglers. And that it was drugs.”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a sigh, “They started off small – just helping the cocaine pass the border. But falling into a world like that never stays so simple. It starts with trafficking, but then you gain enemies and rivals, so you have to handle that threat to your business. The town had a difficult time back then. Everything existed and operated around smuggling. Nothing was sacred, nothing was safe.”

You nod slowly. You knew your father wasn't a good man. But it's not something you dwell on now, it’s a fact you buried within yourself long ago, and have not allowed to surface since.

“So what did my dad do in all of this?”, you ask quietly.

“Well, he was the leader of the club along with Joel, his best friend. They started out young, both growing up in this hick town and didn’t see a way out. They felt like they had nothing to lose, and that might have been true at the beginning, but then life happened. Both your dad and Joel got married and had kids, and that’s when everything changed,” Sam says, voice turning raspy.

“Kids? Joel has kids?”, you ask.

“Kid. And had. He had a kid. Sarah,” he almost whispers at the end.

“What happened to Sarah?”, you ask in a hushed voice.

“She died. She was killed,” he says solemnly as he turns to look out the window. You can feel your stomach twisting into a knot. “I’m still not sure I know the full story, honey. I don’t think anyone except Joel really does, but I’ll tell you everything I know.” He turns his face back at you, “What I do know is that Sarah was kidnapped. They say she was kidnapped by a rival gang to force your dad and Joel to give up their territory over the border. Your dad didn’t want to let it go, so they tried to rescue Sarah instead, but– but she didn’t survive ”

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“I told you, nothing was sacred; not friends, not even family,” he says.

“So Joel…”, you start, “Did– did he kill my dad?”

“Yes, but they never found his body, so it’s never been proven,” he answers as his eyes flicker to your face, checking your reaction, but you’re determined to not give any. “They charged him,” Sam continues, “but the prosecution didn’t have enough evidence. Everything was circumstantial.”

“So where has he been since? Why did he only come back now?”, you ask.

“He was serving time for trafficking. I assume he just got out and headed back here – I guess it's still his home, right?”, he asks with a bitter smile.

Slightly dazed as you stare blankly at your empty glass, you reluctantly answer, “Yeah,” you say as you stand up and go to the kitchen again. But this time, you take the whole whiskey bottle and place it on the coffee table after refilling both your glasses. 

“So,” you say contemplatively, “Joel blames me for my father’s mistake and wants to take revenge on me now? Like he hasn't already taken everything from me?” you ask. “He didn't just take my dad, Sam. He robbed me of my childhood, my home,” you say, emptying your glass. 

Sam takes the glass from your hands and places it on the table, his palms brushing over yours; soft, gentle. “Slow down with that,” he says at last, “I don't think we can understand what he wants. I doubt that he came back here planning to find you and taking revenge. I just think seeing you woke up something in him, you being here, alive and–”

“And Sarah being dead,” you finish. “But it's still not my fault, Sam. I’m just as miserable and alone in this world as he is,” you say, tears blurring your vision.

“Come on,” Sam says, taking you by your elbow and leading you up to the bedroom. You watch as a tear drops down on the wooden stairs. You sniff your nose. You see how Sam´s hand twitches next to his body, starting a move he never finishes. Probably reaching to wipe your tears. You are glad he didn't do it. He waits until you slip in the sheets and stands there for a second, not sure what he should do.

“There are some extra pillows and blankets in the wardrobe,” you say at last.

“Thank you,” he says and heads to get them.

“No, thank you for doing this,” you look at him with a faint smile, tears still shedding from your eyes, “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Sleep tight,” he says and closes the door behind him. 

Then you find yourself alone with your thoughts for the first time today. Your head is dizzy, and the room seems to spin around you. Despite the fatigue, sleep eludes you. The encounter with Joel replays in your mind, with the memory of his raw anger and the way his touch ignited a fire within you.

You close your eyes and imagine his hand grabbing your hair, his jeans scratching your bare skin. This is wrong, so wrong, but you place your hand on your stomach, moving it slowly under the waistband of your shorts, further and further until you find your center. You squeeze your eyes closed, as if you don't see it, it's not real and start circling your clit. You dip your fingers to your entrance and find yourself already soaked. “Fuck,” you murmur and keep pleasuring yourself until you are on the edge of your orgasm. You imagine it's not your fingers that curl deeper and deeper inside of you, it's not your palm that pushes down on your clit. “Christ,” you mutter and curve your back starting to shake from the pleasure finally spilling over inside of you.

You can feel tears running down your cheeks as you are coming down from your high. You turn onto your side and sob into the pillow. Your salty tears mix with salty residue on your fingers. You cry until there is nothing else, but the always forgiving darkness around you.

–

The next morning, your life begins to get back to its normal rhythm, the only difference now being that Sam has basically moved in with you.

You don't mind it at first, you’re glad someone cares enough to do this. He gives you the weekend off, so you spend it together. He fixes some things around the house while you read on the porch. You eat your meals together and, at night, you both curl up on opposite ends of the couch to dissociate in front of the flickering fluorescent lights of the TV.

You can't fail to notice how he looks at you, how comfortable he is in your presence, how seamlessly he fits into your home and your life. You recognize how he could become a part of it, if only you would let him. Yet, in your own twisted way, the more he cares, the less you want him around.

As Saturday melts into Sunday you start to feel suffocated. You tell him you want to go back to work. He agrees, maybe getting your minds occupied would help. So he drives you to work on Monday and drives you back home after your shift. You spend the rest of the week on the same schedule.

On Friday you tell him that it is fine, you will be safe, you will just drive home with your own car after your shift. He insists that he needs to protect you, that your life is still in danger. You explain that he cannot do this forever, that you can protect yourself. He walks you to your car, he hands you his gun, asking if you can shoot. You can, so you take it and hide it in your glove compartment while reassuring him for the hundredth time that everything will be alright. You turn on the engine and drive home, finally alone.

–

As you take the right turn to your house, you clearly see Joel’s bike is parked in your driveway, no attempt by him to even try to hide that he is there. You could turn around, go back to the diner, or call Sam, but you don’t. You know Joel isn’t at your house to talk, but your need to know the truth, the full story, pushes you to ignore the more rational, safe response to such a threat. So, you reach for the glove compartment and fish out the gun that Sam gave you.

You get out of the car and stuff it in the back of the waistband of your skirt. As you walk up the stairs to your porch and quietly unlock the front door, you see the house is still dark, but you don’t turn on the lights. Instead you begin making a sweep of the house, walking the ground floor to check the kitchen and living room, but he’s nowhere to be found. You make your way up the stairs, checking the bathroom first, followed by the master bedroom. When you finally reach the end of the hallway, the only door remaining is the one that leads to your childhood bedroom. You haven’t gone inside since you moved in, but the door is slightly ajar.

You place your palm on the door and push it open gently and he’s there, looking at the things on top of your dresser. Everything is covered in dust, your bedding, once bright pink, now faded into a muted rose color. He appears even bigger than you remembered, but maybe it’s the children's furniture in the room, making him look like a giant. You look around, but you can't recall the memories of you being there. Dolls and toys stuffed into baskets in one corner, books of fairytales stacked on the shelves along with framed family photos. It feels strange that once it was your home, that once you even had a home. That you had a family.

He sets down a framed photo on top of your old dresser. It's a photo of you and a dog, you can tell that much in the dark, but you have no idea where it was taken. He turns to look at you.

“His name was Mercy,” he says with a faint smile on his face, “He belonged to an old couple, who lived next door when–”

“When Sarah was still alive?”, you ask. You don't quite meet his eyes, you look at the soft leather of his jacket instead.

“Yes, when Sarah was still alive,” he repeats and takes a step closer, “Before your dad murdered her,” he adds, voice turning cold as ice.

“That's not how–”, you start, but he interrupts.

“Oh, please!”, he laughs, “You are not a child anymore to believe every tale you are told. He murdered her in cold blood and he was planning to murder me too – all for his business to make more money.”

This is the first time your eyes linger on him. He is handsome, very handsome. His side profile is lit by the moon, making him look like a Greek god. His graying curls disheveled on the top of his head that he probably ruffled it after taking off his helmet. He has a permanent scowl frozen to his face, you wonder if the deep line ever disappears from in between his brows.

“I understand your pain,” you say simply, “I've lost people too, you know?” You chuckle darkly, “Killing me would bring you nothing. If you kill me, what would you have left in this world?”

“You understand nothing,” he says, voice laced with anger. He moves fast then, grabbing the knife tucked in his belt and he’s towering over you in an instant.

“Then explain it to me,” you whisper.

“Explain,” he repeats, “I wish I could explain sweetheart, but your father did the unexplainable.” 

“Sam said she was kidnapped by another gang,” you say.

“Kidnapped, yes, but not by another gang. She was kidnapped by your dad, because I didn’t want to follow his orders. I wanted out, but he wouldn’t let me. So he took the only thing that mattered to me,” he says bitterly.

The truth hits you like a slap on the face. You cast your eyes down on the dusty wood below your feet, trying to stop your tears from falling. You look at his left hand still holding the knife. Your head feels dizzy. You lean on the wall behind you, the gun in the back of your skirt squishing into your flesh. You reach behind to take it out and place it on the desk next to you.

“Do it,” you say. You grab his hand that clutches the knife and point it just above your heart. His calloused hands are warm in your palms, you squeeze them harder. “Do it,” you whisper again, “If this is what we need to leave this all behind then do it.

He stares at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of fear. But you are not afraid anymore. If this is the end, so be it.

“I'm not afraid of dying," you say, your voice steady, "But killing me won't undo the past. It won't bring back Sarah, and it won't erase the pain." You close your eyes, waiting for the sharp pain that never comes. You pull your hand away from his, the knife slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the floor.

He is fast then, squatting down to grab the knife as long fingers curl around the handle, but he doesn’t stand up. He stays on his knees, pointing the knife to your left thigh as his other hand grips the flesh of your right thigh.

As if you are looking at yourselves from the outside, you see his hand move, the blade penetrating your skin as blood bubbles up to the surface. The cut is not deep, you don't feel pain just yet. You stay frozen in place, and you do nothing to stop him.

He pulls his hand away then, dropping the knife to the floor and places his hand over the wound; your blood seeping through his fingers. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. He presses on your thigh, trying to stop the bleeding, but he just smears it across your skin as it soaks the skirt of your uniform, pink fabric turning crimson.

He grabs your thigh with his other hand as well. You feel hot, but it has nothing to do with the injury. He leans his head on your stomach and you can hear his deep breaths, feel the warmth of them through your blouse.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he breathes, ”I'm so sorry.” 

Your hands move of their own volition, your fingers tangling in his graying curls. He lets out a deep breath at that, like someone who hasn't been touched for a long time, and you think that's most probably the case. He turns his head and places a kiss on your stomach through your uniform. Something twists in your stomach at the feeling, something that you have buried deep inside, something you have never even dared to feel. Not through your teenage years or after when you lived in Austin, working in Red Rose. You want Joel. You need him, right then and there, leaned upon your childhood bedroom wall.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispers again, but you are not sure anymore why he is apologizing. He moves his head placing small kisses along your torso down to your left thigh, where he cut you.

He places kisses around the cut, it's almost stopped bleeding now, but his scruff is painted with your blood.

He slides his hands on the side of your thighs, smearing blood there too, lifting up your skirt. His mouth never leaves your left thigh, now peppering kisses closer to your center, murmuring sorries after every kiss.

“Stop,” you say.

He lifts his head to look at you, “You want me to stop?”, he asks, still grabbing your thighs.

“I want you to stop saying sorry,” you say, voice breathy.

“So you want me to keep going?”, he asks, still looking up at you. You nod.

He moves his mouth back on your thigh, but he doesn't do anything more. “Let me hear it, okay, baby girl? Tell me.”

“Keep going. Please,” you whisper, almost pleading.

“Okay, baby,” he says and moves his fingers to the crease of your underwear, caressing the sensitive skin there. You feel your arousal dripping out of you, wetting the soft fabric of your underwear. His mouth starts moving on your thigh again, licking up your drying blood, smearing it all over your skin and his. His teeth scraping your thighs, dull fingernails digging into your flesh. 

You let out a whine as his teeth touch your cut, but it's more from pleasure than pain. Your hips move on their own, chasing more of his touch. You want him to have all of you. His fingers move to slide your underwear away, long fingers stroking soft curls. He pulls his head back then, and you try to pull him back towards your center where you need him most.

“I wanna see you,” he whispers, and your grip in his hair loosens. 

He looks at you with burning intensity, taking in all he can in the dim light of the night. “Beautiful,” he groans, almost pained, as he digs his nose into your curls, “Smells perfect too,” opening his mouth over your mound as if he’s trying to devour all of you.

“Mhm, can’t wait to have a taste,” he murmurs into your skin.

“Please Joel,” you say and try to open your legs wider for him, “Please.”

“So impatient,” he chuckles and moves his fingers over your folds. “So ready for me. Is this all for me, darlin’?”, he asks and lifts his fingers to show you your arousal mixed with your blood. The sight of it makes something in your stomach pull tighter.

“Yeah,” you say in a breathy voice, “It’s all for you, I’m all for you, you can have all of me.” You want to feel him even closer, you want him to make you his. You need to feel him want you. All of you.

He moves his fingers back to your folds, teasing the soft skin again. His fingers stop over your entrance and you can feel him slowly insert a finger into you while he locks eyes with you. Your lips fall open and you let out a soft moan.

“That's it baby,” he says and uses his other hand to lift your thigh over his shoulder. He does not move his finger in you, but as you open up for him he uses his other fingers to spread you wider. “You need another,” he whispers and inserts another one of his fingers next to the first one. He grunts watching his fingers spread you open.

“Now a taste,” he says and licks up from your opening up to your clit, flattening his tongue as he reaches your aching bundle, drawing circles, making your walls tighten around his fingers. He moves back to your hole then, lapping up all the arousal that trickles out of you around his fingers, and you can feel his soft groans vibrating against your pussy. He returns to your clit, licking and sucking, but his fingers still don't move, it’s like he’s keeping them still inside you just to observe all your reactions to his lips and tongue more closely. 

The room fills with the lewd sounds emitting from your chest and his occasional grunts. You feel yourself hovering on the edge of the ultimate pleasure, but Joel is in no rush. He’s devouring you just to enjoy your taste in his mouth, to feel the grip of your walls, to hear your sounds of pleasure, as you grind on his fingers, trying to chase your own pleasure.

“Not yet, baby, let me enjoy you,” he says, placing his other hand on your stomach, pinning you to the wall. Your muscles are tense in your whole body, but you feel completely weak at the same time. You are so close to your climax, but each time you near the edge, he pulls back, moving his mouth to pepper small kisses over your mound and on the crease of your thighs.

“Please, Joel, can’t anymore,” you whine, trying to move his head back to your aching core. “Please,” you plead again.

“Okay, baby girl, cum for me,” he murmurs as he returns to your clit, sucking it in his mouth while he curls his fingers inside you, having no trouble finding your most sensitive spot, sending you over the edge in an instant. Hot white pleasure blurring your vision, you feel yourself gushing all over his fingers, your walls gripping him and pulling him deeper. You can hear your blood rushing in your veins, his voice muffled from below; that's it, beautiful, you are doing so good baby. You can feel your knees weaken, your whole body going limp as the tension releases. 

He removes your leg from his shoulder and steadies you with his hands over your hips. He stands up and takes your hand walking you out to the bathroom. “Sit,” he says, pointing to the edge of the bathtub. You sit, needing to grab the edge of the tub to steady yourself, still dizzy from your orgasm.

He washes his face first and hands first. Your eyes follow the crimson streaks disappearing into the drain. He takes a cloth, wets it in the sink then kneels in front of you and slowly cleans the blood from you. Your eyes follow his hands, moving slowly and carefully over your soft skin. Your gaze darts at his pants then, his arousal evident, the hard shape of his length clearly visible through his jeans. You swallow, feeling the blood rush to your face. He notices and looks at you questioningly, but then continues to clean you.

Once he is satisfied, he stands again, opening some drawers, checking your cabinet, collecting a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze. He carefully applies the antiseptic and then dresses your wound, applying the gaze around your thigh and tucking in the end once he is finished.

He stands up then offers you his hand. You reach your hand, but instead of placing it in his palm, you stroke the front of his jeans, over his bulge.

“Let me–”, you whisper, but he brushes your hand away.

“No,” he says, voice cold and distant again. He looks at you, and you can’t find the man in his eyes you just saw minutes ago. “You should go to sleep,” he says, turning on his heels, leaving you in the bathroom with tears collecting in your eyes.

You are not sure how long you sit there, but you can hear his bike’s engine revving to life outside, leaving you alone with your heavy thoughts.

--

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

the lovelies who asked to be tagged: @spacecatbowtie, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, @joeldjarin

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Traditions - Angel Reyes x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Decorations!

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Following on from the Taken!Series

It’s the first time since Marisol’s death that Felipe’s house is being decorated for Christmas. Angel, EZ and Felipe don’t usually celebrate the season, instead they have a couple of beers, watch a few movies and let the day pass them by. You’re not much different. You’ve been on your own since your Nana died, you used to spend the day in the fields with your music on, collecting buds or in the apothecary making the balm that soothes away all of those aches and pains. Now there’s a child in the mix things are different. Angel’s decided to go all out and that apparently includes buying the largest Christmas tree known to man.

“She’s four months old.” You remind Angel as him and EZ wrestle with getting the tree through the front door. “I don’t think she minds how big the tree is.”

“I tried to tell him.” EZ tells you as he guides the trunk into the stand and begins to twist the pins that hold it in place. “But he was adamant, it had to be this one. I think Valeria’s first Christmas is making him a little nuts.”

“Then I guess we’re doing this thing.” You say, your palm brushing over Valeria’s fine dark hair as she snuggles even deeper into your chest.

“You are doing this thing.” EZ corrects you, kissing his niece on the top of the head. “I have hampers to deliver, you get to deal with all of his madness.”

“Traitor.” You accuse as you walk him to the door.

EZ gives you that shit-eating grin of his as you shoot him the middle finger. You watch him climb on his bike, raising Valeria’s hand to wave goodbye before you close the door behind him. When you turn to face the tree, it feels like it’s even bigger than it was two minutes ago. You can hear Angel in the other room, rooting through the box of decorations that he’d brought down from the attic.

“OK kid, your dad’s gone a little crazy but we’re gonna lean it into it ok?” You say to Valeria as her tiny fist grips the fabric of your shirt. “We’re just gonna lean right into it.”

***

Valeria is asleep by the time you’ve finished decorating the living room. The tree glows from the corner of the room, bathing it in a warm light as the two of you sit on the floor alongside Valeria’s bassinet. The scent of pine floods your nostrils, the sound of Bing Crosby’s Christmas album playing on the decade’s old stereo. You’re both drinking hot chocolate, not the instant kind. One made from traditional cocoa, something Angel had picked up along with the whipped cream and marshmallows.

It's perfect, this moment. Your little family taking a breath and enjoying the holidays. It’s been a hell of a year with everything that happened with Skye and then your recovery but you’re here celebrating the holiday season with your lover and daughter.

“You know, I thought you’d gone a little insane with all of this but now I get it.” You say as you survey the room, the tiny family heirlooms on the mantlepiece, the fairy lights intermingled with the wreath. “It’s beautiful.”

“You thought I’d lost my mind, didn’t you?” Angel teases as his lips brush over your temple.

“A little.” You admit, taking a sip of your hot chocolate. “But I get it. You want the perfect Christmas for our little girl, something like the ones you remember from your childhood.”

“My mom used to make it so special.” Angel tells you as his gaze comes to rest on the tiny handmade ornaments he’d made with his mom once upon a time. “Even when we were grown, we’d still come over, help her decorate. I want traditions like that with Valeria, with you...”

His hand comes to rest upon your stomach, his thumb smoothing over the place where his son resides. He knows it’s a boy, he can feel it in his bones. “Our new baby.”

“You haven’t told anyone right?” You murmur, your palm coming to rest upon his. “It’s still too early.”

“No Mi Reina I haven’t.” He says, tipping your chin up so you can meet his gaze. There’s such love in those eyes, such tenderness, such adoration. His lips brush over yours and it’s the sweetest kiss, so soft, so meaningful. His thumb ghosts along the line of your jaw and he smiles just a little as you moan into his mouth. “Isn't that what got us here in the first place?”

He draws away as Valeria mumbles grumbles in her sleep, his gaze slipping to his daughter.

“I can’t believe how blessed I am.” He tells you, his warm fingers splaying over your abdomen. “You, Valeria and little peanut are the best gifts I could have asked for.”

“It’s going to be a great Christmas.” You say entwining your fingers with his. “The best one yet.”

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