#and it makes me so happy they get to survive together

[simp4konig]

Okay okay I have to ask, what’s your fav head canons of Nikto then? I love hearing other people’s ideas and head canons of cod characters ^^ 💕

Ngl, i get inspired by other people's headcanons, and i make headcanons off THEIR headcanons 🥲👍… I'm unoriginal 😔💔

SOOOO, im “” Tagging”” (by that i mean putting // after the @ so the original creators dont get the notifcation for this LMAO=) blogs whose own works inspired me to create my own headcanons 🥰❤️

General Nikto Headcanons ❤️

Word Count: 1,584.

Tag List: ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @rustic-guitar-notes ♡ @best-soup ☆ @lotionlamp ♡ @trepaika ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @nightlyvoids ♡ @skeletalgoats ♡ @aethelwyneleigh27 ☆ @arrozyfrijoles23 ♡ @dobaddo ☆ @the-second-sage ☆ @wil-xyz ☆ @revnatheshadow ☆ @feelya

Allusions to NSFW beneath the cut! Readers are warned.

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Blunt and straight to the point. Sees no rhyme nor reason in beating around the bush and sugarcoating his words. As a result, he can be viewed as insensitive and lacking in empathy.

Impatient, and has a short fuse, so blows up often. Only you are able to be the calm after his storm, subduing him with soft reassurances and whispered words.

To say that he is possessive would be an understatement — he is extremely territorial.

After his torture, he is wary of the few things that he posesses and can actually call his own (you). His biggest phobia is losing you, and his irrational fear is someone stealing you away. Any prick unlucky enough to not catch on to you two dating will be lucky enough to survive the beating that he is given.

On that note, he is simultaneously self-assured, and insecure.

His mask is a part of him, and personal. It will take him months for him to shed said part of him.

Constantly fears that you will leave him once he reveals his face to you, so puts it off for as long as he possibly can. The day that he takes off his mask, only for you to be so casual about it and passing it off as your day-to-day, is the day that became cemented in his hard, stony heart.

Has conflicting views towards marriage. On the one hand, is an official document declaring your relationship really so necessary? Isn't an expensive wedding superfluous, and too sensational? To him, all of that is redundant — he's yours, and you're his…

…On the other hand, a glistening ring on your finger invokes a primal desire to make you more his than you are already. It would be a declaration of a love which even death wouldn't do part. Maybe he should pay more attention to the rings on display at the jewellery stores you pass by when shopping occasionally together.

An introverted man, who finds solace in solitude; excluding you, his partner, he has no companions, and rarely associates with anyone else. The voices in his head are bothersome enough, so why does he need additional voices bothering him? With that said, you would think that your presence would be a bother — especially with your mindless chatter when Nikto doesn't grunt at the idle small talk at times, wholly unresponsive for the majority of the time — but the moment you give any indication of leaving, he seizes your wrist, his cold, icy eyes silently pleading for you to stay. And you do. You always do.

Bringing me onto my next point: he is a good listener. Your ramblings are all that to you; ramblings. To Nikto, however, it's his chance to unpick all the information about you, down to the littlest of details. You wrongly assume that your words fall on deaf ears, but he listens, and he memorises every opinion you have, every statement you make, and even the small anecdotes that you share, which becoming engraved in his brain. He goes over every sentence religiously, as if it was the Bible.

He has an exceptionally good memory, tending to remember things that you had forgotten. Mention something that you craved in passing? He would surprise you with it the next time you bring it up. Alluded to someone who insulted you and ruined your day? Well, it would be no surprise that that person would never ruin your day ever again.

He is like a cat in the sense that he is an unwanted stray. However, when you came to want him, it dawned on you that he was no cat, but a panther. A predator — savage, vicious.

He would kill for you, no questions asked (He has already done it, but you don't know about that. After all, you hadn't asked him that question yet, only in jest. Truth be told, he has made so many death threats that you have become desensitised to them, dismissing them as nothing more than that: threats).

He would have died for you (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE @//charliemwrites’s DEPICTIONNOF NIKTO IN THIS SCENE??????? HAD ME ON MY KNEES 🛐💍🧎🏼‍♀️ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VI NEED HIM SOVBAD); however, when you were hyperventilating as you sobbed and were close to reaching hysterics, that's when he realised that he should value his life more.

Incredibly stealthy. You've seen his execution animations… 🤒 Uses that stealth to sneak up on you whenever your guard is down to smack your ass. 🤭

Insomnia troubles him at night, the relief of sleep rarely coming to him; therefore, he tends to be nocturnal, buying groceries and going about the usual errands you would have otherwise done during the day. When you wake up, that empty fridge is magically stocked with your favourite food, your bear snoozing sometimes — most of the time he stares at you like a creep. 💀 /aff

When he does sleep, it tends to be during the day, and it's almost as if he is a bear entering hibernation

He sleeps like a plank — on his back, his arms by his sides, and his legs straight. You'll curl onto his side, your head on his chest, his legs between your core, and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

Snores. REALLY loud. 😬 ONLY when you are in his arms 🙄 — when he sleeps alone, he is eerily silent.

Subsequently finding him laying in bed, still and silent, you were sobbing, thinking that he died in his sleep. Finally, after minutes of shaking him awake, he opened one eye, and grumbled groggily: “Дорогая, shut up. I am not dead. Not when I have you to live for. Now, come.”

Once he is asleep, good luck getting him to wake up again; unless you somehow manage to disentangle yourself from his arms — only then, when his myshka is missing, does he begrudgingly get up from bed, stand outside the bathroom door, and whisk you back to bed, willfully ignoring your complaints.

Proud of being your protector. Always has his hand[s] on you in some way or other, protectively keeping you by his side.

Has 20/20 vision, and perfect hearing.

Don't mistake his opening of pickle jars and water bottles for you as chivalry — he is taking advantage of it to show off his muscles for you. Doesn't want you to ask if you want to cup a squeeze of his bicep — when he sees you staring, he will forcibly take your hand and put it on his arm, positively smirking beneath that mask of his.

Has a staring problem and is unashamed of it. From his point of view, there is no problem in staring at you all day and every day.

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Eye contact with him is intense. Whenever you avert your gaze, he instantly grabs your chin to angle it so it's facing him. Eye contact during sex is a given.

Despite not wanting to be a father, he has an insatiable breeding kink (does not care whether you are a female, a male, an infertile female, or other — he is delusional in that sense).

Although he isn't against children per se — mainly indifferent to them, if I'm honest — wouldn't want to pass on the generational trauma onto his brood. He would prefer his bloodline ending with him.

His dirty talk is so filthy that you get wet from just his voice and innuendo. (Thank you @//xoxunhinged for your headcanon 😫💦)

His animalistic instincts are so prominent that you've become convinced that he purrs whenever you stroke that sensitive spot on his scalp, and growls in between grunts as he thrusts into you.

Is rough, leaving dark hickeys and bruises, but he would never, ever hurt you. He's rougher than most, but has sufficient self-restraint to be realise ahead of time if he is making you uncomfortable.

You are his deity, and he worships you — if he was to ever hurt you, he would enter a state of loathing. Since you were a merciful God, he would take the liberty of punishing himself — retribution suited to his crime.

One time you two were play wrestling and he almost dislocated your hip on accident. He didn't touch you again for at least two weeks, until he finally considered himself worthy of your touch.

Is dominant in bed, for two major reasons: because he prefers exerting the control which was forced upon him, relishing in having you submit to him; manhandling you to showcase his strength

A third reason is because if you were to ever top him, he'd cum embarrassingly quickly.

Probably gets off to being stronger than you. Deliberately puts you in positions which render you powerless, only able to take what he gives you.

Whenever you enter his room, he always sits in the darkness. Insists: “I do not need lights. Lights are wasted when I can see in the dark.”

Which is true... but it is also a pretence to hide the concerningly detailed shrine taking up an entire wall, dedicated to you. You'll come to find all of your lost trivial belongings when you mistakenly flick on the light switch.

His loyalty and devotion is unparalleled to any other's. He is utterly and unashamedly down bad for you, and he is willing to do anything and everything to keep it that way.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to do much, because you, too, love him. A lot.

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A/N I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIMI NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEEDH IM I NEED—

Yeaah i thought comparing him to a panther would be cool 🐈‍⬛

“Guard dog” and just anything to do with a “dog” is an overused trope to me at this point 😐. Dont get me wrong!!!! , it doesnt mean that i dont LIKE the trope!!!! , but my own interpretation of Nikto is a little different, abd i think it suits him better,, Esp bc panthers technically 🤓☝️ do *not* exist, which links to how the definition of his name in Russian is “Nobody” :)

An unconventional animal for a very unconventionally attractive man😽,,

Anyways, it is time for a cigarette 🚬🤏😪. I will return in approximately 56 business days (trust me guys 😋✌️).

#aking10592_ ≛彡 #Nikto #nikto #Nikto x reader #nikto x reader #Nikto x you #nikto x you #Nikto COD #nikto cod #COD Nikto #cod nikto #Nikto Call Of Duty #nikto call of duty #Call Of Duty Nikto #call of duty nikto #Nikto Headcanons #Nikto headcanons #cod headcanons #cod headcannons #cod hcs #cod x reader

[hanafubukki]

Ok, I just can't get out of my head, big brother Silver and Malleus. Maybe MC and Lilia having their own child and it's a baby girl. She'd be the most beloved little girl in the Valley. I can imagine this is Silver's first time meeting a baby that young and he'd be so soft uwu. Like, he'd be her perfect prince and he'd be more than happy to live up to her image. He takes his role as being her big brother as seriously as his role as Malleus' knight. Malleus, meanwhile. I mean, the child is the product of his favorite human and his father figure. Say no more. Man would basically ignore a royal counsel meeting if it means going to one of her tea parties. Super duper important meeting... Yeah, that's a tomorrow problem. Man has a tea party to go and a messily writter invite in glitter ink is basically on top of his paperwork so he won't forget it. Ok, sorry for the rant. It's just nothing makes me softer than Lilia being a dad again and getting another member in his beloved family. Thank you.

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷💚

First of all Anonie, *grabs you by the shoulders* never be sorry about sending me these! I love love love fluff, especially domestic fluff! And adding on babies?! Ahsjsjjdd Anonie???? I’m the one who suffers from baby fever constantly ansjsjjdjfd believe me, I adore it. (My first fic was a lilia x reader who had a child together ahhhh💞💞💞). This is some of my faves to see in fics 💚💚🌺🌺

One of my fave ideas is a little girl being born into the Diasomnia family. I can see it change their dynamics but also not change it. Certain aspects will remain the same: teaching self defense/training, escaping Lilia’s food (unless she’s the rare one that likes it, to the detriment of everyone else haha), the pranks, etc.

But also, she’ll have these four overprotective figures in her life. Can you imagine when she dates? The sheer panic??

Malleus will eventually have to take a spouse, Silver might too, and now Lilia’s little girl? Papa is going to have a meltdown. Everyone is getting married and leaving him! (Ironic lmfaoo) But, relax, she was just born Lilia! She’s still a toddler! MC out here looking at this ex-general turned drama papa and enjoying the chaos in a fondly exasperated way.

Sebek, Sebek honey, you are so lucky not to deal with this 🤣🤣 that’s a Baul problem 😂😂

As we seen with Silver and the kids durning the bunny event, Silver is trying his best to be the best brother and Prince Charming figure to his little sister. He just…has trouble at times 🤣 But she knows her big brother Silver well just like she knows big brother Malleus, in her eyes, no one is as charming as them.

He’s going to take her and his animal friends to the meadows nearby. They’ll make flower crowns and talk about what’s for dinner as they forage for ingredients. I can see Silver teaching her to dance as Malleus taught him and Lilia.

She’ll sit on his shoulders and pick from apple trees. He’ll teach her how to pick berries. He’ll teach her about animal tracksand hunting. Of course, for now, she’s too young. But no one is too young to learn survival skills right? ✨✨

She can even train with him and he’ll carry her back when she’s tired. All tucked into him, safe in his arms.

As for Malleus? What meeting? His only meeting is this tea party that he’s been invited to. Don’t you see this messy yet glitter filled invite? How dare you try and stop him? Jkjk but at the same time I’m not. 😆

Big Brother Malleus is not going to miss out. He was late once, stupid councilmen, and the sad look he saw then had him almost burning the castle down. Lolol jkjk …maybe.

I can see Malleus getting busy with work at times, maybe so busy he late to dinner. Next thing he knows, there’s a tiny person peeking over his paperwork, giving him a look that can rival Lilia’s cute pout. (It’s even better than his in fact, no one tell Lilia but I doubt he’d mind. He’ll gladly give that mantle to his baby girl)

His baby sister asks him when he’s coming for dinner and it’s late, won’t he take a break? The way this Fae King folds? It would astound the masses. 💞

On the days where Malleus says he can’t join, oh my dear king, this baby girl is as stubbornness as her papa and brothers. She will pout and sit there, threatening not to eat until her big brother does. How can you deny that?

You know that phase that all little girls go through? The one where they want to marry the ones they really love? Watch these three just try their best to get her to choose them. 😂🤣

The winner is MC, of course, no one can beat Mama 💞💞 laughing at the thought of the three depressed in the dark corner.

Ahhh this was so cute! Thank you for sending this in Anonie 💞💞💚💚

#answered #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twst silver #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst fluff #Anonie ask #twst x reader

[redeliminator]

Well, they did NOT survive their teenage codependent homoerotic friendship

I have the priviledge of being an adult and being able to look back on my teenage years happy that I made it out. It wasn't easy and I had my fair share of pretty dark experiences, so I've been thinking A LOT what would have happened to me if I had found myself in a position like Andre when I was 17. So I wrote it down - the story of Andre and Cal's relationship from (mostly) Andre's POV and the whole emotional turmoil of ending your life alongside your best friend. All with a couple of not-so-subtle personal throw-ins. It's a mess and a long one on top of that, I'm sorry ;__;

—

After years of living with all these thoughts you’re too scared to open up about, suddenly it turns out that your (only) lifelong friend is actually not that different. Not only doesn’t he flinch at your uncanny remarks; he actually thinks they’re spot-on and laughs at your jokes that would probably send you straight into detention.

So far, the more people learnt about you, the more they drifted away. Suddenly, it doesn’t happen. Quite the contrary, the messed up things seem to strengthen the bond instead. For the first time, someone welcomes you into their inner life just the way you are and doesn’t expect you to “mend your ways” before they let you in. You gradually uncover the parts of yourself you have never shown to anyone before. It feels like the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders. Like it was destined to happen. It feels real.

It is not at all surprising that in the end, you brought out the worst in each other. After all, your final bond was built on the acceptance of the darkest parts of your personalities. You fed off each other to the point of lethal codependency. You were nothing without him and he was nothing without you.

It was insane. But you felt validated. Starving for someone who understands, you clung to each other and never let go.

So, when you’re standing in that library, guns slung over your shoulders and blood spilling beneath your feet, and that guy, who led you out of that lonely misery and gave your life a spark, tells you that you’re done - well, you’re done. You’d follow him anywhere because what other choice do you have? You killed people. You’re not getting away on your own. You’re not doing it without him. It’s either both of you or none of you. So you agree.

But deep inside, you know there’s so much left to say. The world is wide enough for the two of you, why wouldn’t you want to explore it? We had a plan, we were supposed to last. All of that is suddenly cut short. Just like the lives you’ve just taken. What an irony.

And suddenly you wish you had never left that car. Or that you had swerved it just before pulling into the parking lot. What the fuck are you doing?! That’s when it should have been said: I’m done. You’re done. We’re done.

You never figured out if it was platonic or romantic. You probably didn’t even know what platonic meant. But there was one thing you had no doubt about: that loving him was the easiest thing in the world.

… until it wasn’t. 

That love tripped you up just when everything you thought you wanted was only a few inches away. Suddenly, it felt like jumping into a lake only to realize that concrete bricks have been tied to your feet.

You might have been done with the revenge, but you weren’t done loving him. In fact, you barely even started. You never even fully acknowledged it. You repressed it, scared of and confused about the intricacies of your own identity and feelings.

But what are you supposed to do about it now? Where will all that love go, if you refuse to go down together? Do you even have a choice at all? You won’t make it on your own. The only choice you have is whose hand will fire the shot that will end it all. There is no “if”.

It’s pretty safe to say that you agreeing to a double suicide is a spur-of-the-moment decision. No one would think clearly when faced with this kind of choice under such circumstances. You have just taken more than a dozen innocent lives. If they catch you, it’s game over. It’s a pathetic failure.

You were supposed to escape in a blaze of glory: a getaway car, a police chase, a rain of bullets fired towards you as you take one last look in the rearview mirror knowing you’re never gonna see this town again. You’ve turned the place that destroyed you into smoldering ruins and now you kiss it goodbye. It doesn’t get better than this.

But it’s not what happens. Suddenly, as you look around the room and glance over the dead bodies, you realize the thrill is gone. The excitement has vanished into thin air. The only thing you’re hearing are police sirens and people whimpering in pain. The reality of what you’ve done and what awaits you comes crashing down on you. It’s not glorious. It’s not rewarding. It’s bleak and hopeless. It’s a dead end.

—

Andre had to tone down Cal's carelessness during the preparations. No, we’re not gonna break into Brad’s garage and risk being spotted. No, your open mic poetry evening was not a fun idea; it was inconsiderate and dangerous. No, even if we had an M-80, we wouldn’t use it for a ceremonial explosion at my family’s vacation home where everyone could see it. 

And suddenly, as they’re wandering through the school looking at the carnage they caused, the roles get reversed. It’s Cal who has to lead Andre into the grim reality. 

We’re not making it out. We can still leave on our terms though. It’s your call.

The question is, did Cal really believe they didn’t stand a chance or did he use the circumstances to get what he wanted: for both of them to die?

If Andre didn’t agree, would Cal have the guts to shoot him himself? I don’t think he would. There was only one way Cal wanted it to end. I think Cal may have had some sort of feelings for Andre, but, in a fashion similar to Andre, he didn’t know exactly what these feelings were as he never got around to disentangling them. Cal was mentally ill, heavily unstable and out of touch with reality, but I think deep inside he still had the ability to feel. He could barely connect with that part of him, but it was still there. And Andre kept it alive because he did something no one else would ever do for Cal. He provided Cal with the means to die the way he wanted. A spectacular way out. 

And Cal would be forever grateful for that, even if that “forever” would come to an end in just a matter of seconds. How do you even thank someone for a favor like this? Thanks for letting me die, even though you didn’t know I planned it? How do you find someone who you don’t even have to ask for it? Hey, what would you say if we killed a bunch of people to send some twisted message that only we understand and then we blew our brains out? 

The thing is, none of them had to ask. The idea was already there. Maybe except for the “blowing our brains out” part. In any case, this is a one in a million chance that you find someone like this.

#this was for my own peace of mind #I really needed to organize my thoughts on this and I literally feel relieved that I've finally done this #zero day #zero day 2003 #andre kriegman #cal gabriel #calvin gabriel #zero day movie

[hi-ilikeyourbutt]

Lover’s Dirge~*

Requests are open! Please give me your ideas, critiques, thoughts, hc’s and put me to work <3

cw- Angst, breakup. Not a happy ending in this one.

Synopsis- The days are growing darker and wanderer attacks are growing more intense. With the ever present danger looming over, you and Zayne are becoming more consumed by work. The sense of dread is leaking, not only into your personal life, but your relationship as well. Sometimes you could go a whole week without hearing from one another and the burden of maintaining your crumbling love life while navigating this treacherous world has become too much…

Denial is a funny thing… deep down you knew why Zayne texted you asking to meet here, a dimly lit restaurant down the street from Akso, and it wasn’t because it was the only restaurant that was open at this hour… It was the first text he sent in just over a week and to be fair you had barely read it when you got it, being on another investigation in Zone 2 at the time. You puffed out a small sigh, twisting your cold fingers into fists under the table. He hadn’t arrived yet and the silence was aggravating that gnawing sense of dread knotting up your stomach. Somewhere, along the lines of these past few months, your messages grew cold and informative. The sweet nothings, the I miss you, call me on your break, the dinner dates and silly pictures stopped. There was no free time these days to come out of survival mode and dabble in human things like those.

You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing the lump in your throat… The lonely atmosphere of the restaurant coupled with your anxiety was making you dizzy and memories swarmed your mind against your will. Memories from your warm past, years of deep love and friendship, shared secrets and passion clashing against the reality you now face. He was so cold, so sterile now towards you… He was distancing himself on purpose, you had been with him long enough to know why. Zayne was pragmatic, always level headed and logical. There was no outwitting him, no argument you could win unless he graciously let you. He had determined this relationship was getting in the way of your professions, and with the circumstances as dire as they were, that meant it had become a risk. He would have no part in anything that could threaten your life or the lives of his patients. It wasn’t your fault or his... Right person wrong time. Unlike you, though, Zayne could admit it. He was going to rip the band aid off of this shared, festering wound.

This train of thought was agonizing, one you had been dreading since the “end of the world” started, and at this point you preferred to be mauled by the closest wanderer than to sit another lonely minute in this empty booth. You were losing your nerve… if you got up now, if you left… you wouldn’t have to face him, face the giant crack ripping through your soul… you could just-

“Sorry I’m late, Y/N.” His whispery voice floated over and froze the air in your lungs. “Have you ordered yet?” His tone was innocent, disarming you slightly as he shrugged his coat off and folded it over his arm, like it was just another night out together. He took his seat quietly, with that effortless grace he possessed that always made you swoon. But the moment he looked at you he knew you knew and the moment was gone. You both knew each other too well to play at this.

“I haven’t, I don’t have much of an appetite unfortunately.” You couldn’t even look at him as you spoke. The reality of your current situation had you chewing your nails and staring and at the smooth wood of the table, the salt and pepper shaker, anywhere but his eyes…

“You need to eat and take care of your body if you’re to defend the city well” His tone was stern but not angry, a doctor speaking to an unruly patient. You looked up at him then. His face was still, composed and yet concerned as he spoke. You, on the other hand, must have looked like a wreck. Your eyes wild and anxious, hair tossed by the wind from the ride over. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes that matched your own and your heart sank further. He was working so hard too, probably only sleeping a few hours on the couch in his chilly office when he could.

“Zayne…” You breathed, your bottom lip trembling at the thought of his suffering… Under normal circumstances he was fiercely protective of you, any sign of distress had him on high alert. He was the first one to gather you up in his arms and soothe you. But he only sat in front of you now, fingers trembling, eyes tortured, mirroring your own pain. He reached out for your face after another moment of silence, physically unable to hold himself back anymore, and wiped the tears beginning to stream.

“Please don’t cry…” He pleaded softly under his breath. You choked back a sob as quietly as you could, leaning into his hand and savoring the feeling knowing it would be a very long time before you felt his warmth again… if ever.

“Is this really it?” You whispered back, noticing the stutter in your heartbeat as you spoke. He sighed so softly, a small puff of air that held so much sadness, and removed his hand from your cheek.

“For now, yes.” Something about his tone just then snapped you. You never liked feeling helpless, not having a say, and here he was making a one sided decision that was going to further upend your entire life. The anxiety and dread leading up to those words hit a crescendo and morphed, white hot rage whipping up your throat so suddenly it shocked even you. Zayne noticed the shift in you and braced, though he very rarely experienced it, he knew your rage could be a terrible thing.

“Is it really that easy for you?” You spoke to your clenched fists, back to avoiding eye contact.

“Nothing about this is easy Y/N. Not even I can explain the torture I feel.” Your gaze shifted to his sharply, intense and cruel and splitting him open. You had never stared at him in this way. “Please…” You didn’t let him finish.

“We are all we have in this world right now, neither of us is promised tomorrow. Why are you doing this Zayne?” Your voice, so beautiful and melodic to him, was now dripping with venom. This was a new experience for him and he did not know how to navigate your anger, how it cut him to shreds and burned so terribly. You stared at his shocked expression, waiting impatiently for him to explain himself. “Are you really so cold? Can you throw me away so easily? Answer me!” You stood, banging your fists on the table so hard it shuddered. Zayne blinked, further stunned, his flawless composure cracking under the weight of your anger.

“I’m not throwing you away, Y/N! You must know we can’t keep going like this! I can not keep losing sleep, waiting for you to respond to my messages, waiting to know if you’re safe. I can not work knowing that I haven’t seen you in weeks, knowing that when I do see you, you will be whisked away from me in a moments notice. The not knowing, the excruciating uncertainty of our fates, it is effecting every part of me.” His voice cracked and for the first time you saw Zayne broken, saw his famed facade crumble to ash. He was pale, trembling, staring up at you like a pleading boy.

“I lost a patient, Y/N. I was too distracted to see his perforated… he bled to death on my table. I lost a patient…” He repeated, his voice hollow, looking like a ghost and you were the one now at a loss as you watched him trying to compose himself.

“Do you think that this will change any of that?” You asked, the fiery rage dampened but still smoldering. His face twisted at your words, eyes darting sharply to stare you down.

“I have been a patient man, Y/N.” He started slowly, “I know your work is important, that it consumes your time, your mind, every waking moment of your day. It has to if you’re going to survive…” He broke eye contact, looking back down at his hands on the table. “But I can not live on a text from you every two weeks. I can’t. I worry about you every second that I don’t hear from you. I have tried to be patient and I have tried to be pushy, all of it has been in vain.” His composure was returning, the cool edge to his voice irritating you once more. “I know I can not ask you to quit and wait around for me. So I have arrived here.”

“So you have…” You breathed, the anger and sadness melting into and canceling each other out, the lava meeting the sea. You felt empty, exhausted, guilty for unknowingly causing him so much grief…All of it swirled endlessly in your already tired mind.

“I hope when this is all over… you’ll come back to me.” He sounded so profoundly sad as he quietly murmured those words to you but you were too tired really register anything anymore.

“I guess we’ll see, wont we?” You grabbed your jacket and your helmet in a hurry to run, to escape this nightmare. You spared him a glance, he looking just as miserable as you, “I’ll love you until the day I die, whether that day is sooner or later. I’ll love you forever” You said over your shoulder as you left. If you had stopped and turned in the doorway of that restaurant, you would have seen him openly weeping into his hands. He listened to your obnoxious motorcycle roar into life and tear angrily down the road away from him, knowing the loneliness of that sound would haunt him forever…

Not me weeping as I finish this 😭

I’m sorry reader!!! *insert Keanu Reeves meme*

#zayne x you #love and deepspace x you #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lads #love and deepspace #zayne x reader #one shot #zayne x y/n #love and deepspace x reader

[darylbae]

never again — daryl dixon 🩰

in which you reunite with daryl after him being taken by the Saviours

note: i had to get this off my brain before i forgot about it & also it's not 100% story accurate as season 7 was so long ago for me lmao

You were a crack shot with a gun. You were quick, reliable, efficient. But nothing prepared you for this.

Negan.

Being on your knees, Lucille being swung around recklessly by the psychopath you'd met only moments ago, you were holding it together. You'd seen a lot since the world had ended, done a lot, lost a lot. Something just felt worse about this, the not knowing, the complete and utter defeat plastered on every face around you. You looked over to Daryl, who you'd only just seen again, being dragged out of a vehicle by one of the many ruffians. The two of you locked eyes for just a moment, hoping to not give anything away between the two of you. His eyes were desperate, helpless, full of every ounce of love his body could carry. Hoping he could give it to you in person soon. You tried to be strong, for the group, for yourself, but this was a loss. There's no trying to be tough here, they had the upper hand. Negan was playing with everyone, playing a party game to choose who dies, laughing maniacally at the tears and shivers you all shared. You lost your breath when the bat clocked Abraham's skull, diverting your eyes away out of pure fear. Fear. At one point that was only reserved for the dead, but you'd come to realize humans were way worse. Everything blurred together after that. Daryl having a moment of courage and clipping Negan before being held down once more. Glenn being hit. Your eyes burning and jaw hurting from clenching your teeth so hard. It had taken every last bit of humanity out of you. You'd lost two parts of the family keeping you glued together. And there was nothing you could do. Your once bright demeanor swapped for one moodier, angrier, emptier. Daryl had been taken by Negan, to be kept. Like a pet. Your mouth dried as you saw him thrown into the back of a vehicle, like an animal, like he meant nothing to nobody. But he meant something to you. The love of your life. The reason to want to survive this mess daily. He meant everything to you. Even from before, you'd never had a connection like this with anyone. Daryl understood you, knew you, cared so deeply for you, and you him. You spoke about marrying, about finding a nice place to yourselves one day, about making a beautiful family to devote your time to.

You stayed in Alexandria, out of fear. You wanted to leave, you wanted to tell Negan to shove it, you wanted to side with Rosita and stand up for yourselves, like you always had. But Negan having Daryl changed everything for you. You didn't want to do anything to put him in harm's way, you wanted him back. Negan and his group would occasionally come in, take whatever they wanted, and leave. You'd see Daryl, all dirty with his head low. And you'd tell yourself it wasn't him. That wasn't your Daryl. He'd look at you, and you could still see him in there, but the looks were always fleeting. So you'd sit in your house, parts of your furniture gone, waiting for your turn with Lucille. You'd sit on your porch, a blank stare cast over your face as you think about him. You'd sit out here together, reading a book to him as he massaged your legs that were propped up on his lap. You'd join him out here for a smoke, not to smoke but for company, and you'd talk to him about a cute thing Judith did that day, or what you thought your own kids would look like. Nobody was happy living like this, trembling at the sound of the whistling, or the men just wandering around the streets and homes. But Rick was submitting, he had to. There was no other way. You'd lost all motivation for anything, you'd force yourself on runs, finding resources for Negan. Then you'd come back, sometimes eat, but mostly sleep and think about Daryl.

There were small talks of a fight back, like Maggie had spoken about the morning after Negan. She was on Death's door last time you saw her, but you had hoped and prayed her and Sasha were okay. Rick had shut down every idea of fighting back, saying this is how to survive now. You'd even gone over to him, pleading to do something.

"Please, Rick," you cried, stood at his door with tears sliding down your cheeks, "I need him back." "I know." Was all he said, pulling you into his arms. The comfort was nice, but these arms weren't the ones you wanted around you.

Then you'd lost Spencer, Eugene, and almost Rosita. Your emotions were burning inside of you, you felt like a spectator in this sick, twisted game. Enough was enough.

"I'm fighting, Rick," you spoke, your voice low. Broken but determined. Michonne stood by you; you needed to go to war. There's no more lying down and taking it. "We've lost so much, too much, for this to be our lives now." You cried, "I'm not losing anything else. Anyone else."

You were headed to Hilltop, where Maggie and Sasha were. You were hopeful for their health, and survival, and to see them both on the other side of those gates, was a sight for sore eyes. "You were right," Rick said to Maggie, but you couldn't hear the rest. Your eyes had drowned out everything around you. Your eyes, you thought, were playing tricks on you. There he was. You'd walked over to him, unsure if this was just another nightmare like the previous nights, or if this was him. Daryl. Standing in front of you. The two of you just looked at each other, unable to comprehend what you were seeing. Until Daryl had opened his arms for you, crying into your shoulder as you were his. The two of you a sobbing mess in each other's limbs. "I got ya back," he whispered, for only you to hear, "I've been thinking about ya every day. I couldn't stop." "I'm here." You cried, holding him tighter against your body. "I'm not going anywhere, you're never leaving me again." "I know, baby, I know."

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut

[ultimatemissadhd]

the fact that Kyoko and Makoto in the canon get a happy ending,

after everything they've been through,

after thinking they wouldn't live till their twenties,

after downs and ups of their relationships,

after thinking the other died at some points,

after seeing the most cruel things,

after being put on the pressure of saving the world,

after solving tons of mysteries together,

after losing everything,

they get to live a happy, peaceful life, alive and well,

they get to live until they die of old age peacefully tougher,

they get to think about things like marriage and starting a family, something they didn't think they would live long enough to do,

they get to deal with their traumas in healthy environments, they get to help eachother with their problems,

they get to bring actual hope to students of Hope's Peak Academy and make sure none of them has to go through what they did,

all of this is what makes me extremely happy

#naegiri #kyoko kirigiri #makoto naegi #they went through so much #the fact that we see Kyoko alive and well calling Makoto at the end of the anime #and we see kyoko and makoto just them #they are canon idk what to tell you #they make me so happy #and it makes me so happy they get to survive together #(and it also makes me pretty happy that people who ship Kyoko or Makoto with someone else won't get this feeling especially when they ship- #-them with a character who died.) #i am petty #there's this one popular kyoko ship that I hate and people who know me will exactly know what I'm talking about #get wrecked *that one ship I hate* shippers #not really “that one” because I hate a lot of non naegiri kyoko or makoto ships #oh well

[corpsentry]

at the asian american studies sponsored movie screening i run out of my seat to press a button for the presenter and you look away, not in shame, but in anger

go make your own movie.

One where you’re the star

and everything’s my fault

the way you want it to be. I know, it’s easy

to let someone else hold this grief

and sit in the bathtub,

all dressed up to go to the party.

Maybe in this movie it’s your party

and I the party crasher,

holding cymbals and a baseball bat, et cetera.

But we don’t stop getting older when we’re angry

and you’re only twenty,

can’t listen to lullabies at night,

can’t sleep without a blanket

over your head like you’re scared

of your own shadow. God, go

write your own movie.

You could do it,

you’re still

pretty. Angry? Me too.

The bathtub’s overflowing,

the bathroom’s flooding

with whatever you couldn’t say

to the poet with their palms glued shut

in a cheap simulacrum of prayer.

Didn’t you say you were tired? Angry? Me too.

Upset? Unhappy? Me too. Hungry? Lonely? Me too. Me too.

Standing barefoot in the grass

I remembered the month of bad weather.

How I parted the fog with broken hands each night,

looking for your voice.

Oh, I will not forgive you.

Not like this.

With your fingers splayed

against the brute February sky,

lips cracked open like windows,

waiting, like you always are, for me to say the first word.

#my writing #my words #there are many reasons i like tumblr. for example the number of people who keep getting older is very impressive #but also it is nice because unlike my goddamn poetry account (self inflicted damage) half my friends irl do not follow me here #so i can put this poem down. it’s not public grief here it’s anonymous grief! woo #anyway i have just survived possibly the most brutal four weeks of my life and this is including getting dumped a week #before the dance concert in which my ex and i were in more than half the items together. this is including that #but i am OUT #and this poem was written while i was still in but i am O U T #lord being hurt and hurt and being mature and brave and smart makes your HR voice get really good #not by choice #for survival purposes #i am wondering if i should get this laptop. as my water bottle exploded and destroyed my old laptop #i think i will do it #yes. i think so #it is time to start taking care of myself. and so on #so here’s this poem. i wanted to share it because it’s raw and unedited and it has some lines that i think are neat #if it makes you feel some stuff that would make me very happy

[formerlyjannafaye]

I saw this pic on Instagram today. I don’t know where they got it from but I have literally been spiralling ever since.

#st spoilers #st filming #st5 spoilers #stranger things spoilers #stranger things #the party #Dustin then will then Lucas then mike #them being together in this final season has me in my feelings #and the fact that Mike initiated the hands in makes me happy #IM EMOTIONAL #every time I see something like this I get so amped and also so deeply sad knowing this is the last time #IM NOT OKAY #I will literally need to be on anxiety meds when this seaosn drops or I won’t survive

[sapsolais]

!

#sometimes i think about how my first ever online community experience was playing online survival/vanilla minecraft #n i think of how happy it made me to be a part of a greater community y'know? nothing huge but #it all felt so big 2 me and i felt so immersed at the time and so sometimes when i get reminded of that time and all the people i met #i crave smth like that again #but everythings different now! with the way servers work. n all the public servers are either dead or have 345987 plugins sdfkjgh #not 2 mention way too big. or they alr have established communities #n like! i dunno it's a struggle bc it's like okay where am i gonna find a server that's like. 18+. queer friendly + devoid of bigots #active. not super huge. and New #bc like 2 me there's no point in joining a server if everythings alr been done y'know #i've had people give me full netherite as soon as i joined and i was like thanks but! now what. KDSFJHDSF #i want 2 go on a journey w other people and do silly things and play pranks on friends and help people w their projects #i want 2 plan big things and explore places and make friends and build a community y'know #people from all over n all at dif points in their lives n all so unique coming together for this one thing #i just dunno where to look anymore #i miss it though #i love this game a lot but the one thing i love the most about it i haven't had in such a long time #sap says #maybe someday

[anarchofairy]

ok i’m gonna make a funny little weepy post in the tags avert your eyes

#every time i’m with e it gets better #like i’m able to let more of my walls and insecurities melt away #we’re a very odd couple. we don’t really make sense together and i have no idea why they let me keep hanging around #but i’m so *happy* with them #and like. i have had the urge to have the conversation with them about what our relationship is or could be for a while now #because the only conversation we’ve had was like a few days after we hooked up for the first time and i barely remember how that went #iirc it was like. we both like each other so let’s keep hooking up and get to know each other better #but that was 6 months ago #and i really don’t wanna upset the harmonious thing we’ve created by looking at it too hard yknow? #i would be happy to keep going as we are. i’d be happy to Date™️. i’d be happy to do something else entirely probably #ut you can’t exactly say ‘hey i like you so much i’ll be whatever you’d like to be’ #and i don’t want to ask for more and be rejected i think that would hurt me quite a bit #and i don’t want to lose them #and we have such a highly specific relationship and ritualised way of seeing each other #i’m not sure if our relationship can survive outside of that? #i’d be willing to do a shit ton to make it work. but i find it so hard to read them #i wish i knew if they had the potentials of love stirring in their insides the way i do. i just want to feel safe in their affections #i don’t know how reciprocated my affections are #there’s too many factors and we’re both too neurodivergent #anyway. i’ll just treasure my little happiness for now #and figure out my next move later #conari

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

Y'all... when I was in sixth grade I was writing a diary style book and I found a rough draft for two entries I wrote in school... help

Dear diary,

I am genuinely curious what that one town looks like. So eclipse if you're reading this I'm probably dead. Anyway I am putting my pigtails into buns, wearing eclipses sunglasses, and I am wearing ripped jeans (barf) I need to be undercover. Anyway off I go!

I am shooketh. Very shooketh. There were people there, people. I knew Ryan wasn't lying. Then why was he arrested? These hair buns are annoying so...

,confused mittens

Dear diary,

I worried Ryan is safe, I've been 11/12 (I didn't even know her age??) For a week now and, and, and, it's boring.my education is up to eclipse. I'm doomed. So I'm working on my art. Not going well, my mom. Has sent out search parties out. And I am currently hiding outside of the cave, Riverside. I think I may need to change my look, to look like a wolf. My hair is staying. My dress though? Nah fam.

#please dont bully me this was years ago #just be happy i shared this trash with you! #also btw this was gonna be really angsty #it was in my brief furry era and my friends aphmau era and we came together yo make this book. #essentially mittens was a cat of the royal family and they had a rivalry with all wolfs or whatever #mittens tho... she loved ryan. so she tried to stay around him as much as possible without her parents knowing #then he got arrested for murder and mittens ran away and freed him #she then stayed in a cave where Ryan's sister helped her stay alive #really later on ryan and mittens would get reunited and theyd get ratted out to their parents and hed be rearrested and shed be forced back #to her family #then a murder attempt would be made and only her and her brother would survive #idk where it went after that

[vaspider]

Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.

#long post #uncensored slurs #slurs #homophobic slurs #ronald reagan's grave is a gender neutral toilet #lgbtq #queer #trans #transgender #fag #dyke #lgbt

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Go for his brother part 2

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭

↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend

↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup

username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀

username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur

↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge

username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie

username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction

username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao

↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol

username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama

yourusername The Art & The Artist

view all comments

charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all

↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭

username1 MY OH MY

username2 What did she say 😐

username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her

username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)

francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶

↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶

username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf

username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?

username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying

yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️

↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅

username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme

↳username5 What makes you think that?

username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake

username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day

exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷

↳yourusername 😐

↳francisca.cgomes 😐

↳yoursister 😐

↳charles_leclerc 😐

↳pierregasly 😐

↳georgerussell63 😐

↳carmenmmundt 😐

↳alex_albon 😐

↳lilymhe 😐

username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭

↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣

username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST

username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?

arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️

view all comments

exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️

username1 💀

username2 Alright they both have the audacity

username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao

username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol

↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED

username5 They deserve each other tbh

username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...

↳username7 wdym

username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭

username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao

exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us

↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you

↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮

yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️

view all comments

username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?

yoursister You guys look so good together

↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily

↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊

↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭

lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing

↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together

username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE

↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation

username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?

username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure

username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur

username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment

arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?

↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????

↳username3 wtf are u doing here

↳yourusername Maybe...

username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏

username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr

alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date

↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where

arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this

↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom

arthur_leclerc You know what I mean

arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point

yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually

arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever

charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after

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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS

pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected

↳username2 bro speaking facts

username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭

username4 Well at least the family already knew her

↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry

username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?

alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year

↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it

francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂

↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶

arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are

↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful

↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party

username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶

username2 at least the "maman" is the same right

username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur

username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭

↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like

carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂

↳username9 Not funny

username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace

↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢

carlossainz55 Valid point

arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend

charles_leclerc On which you cheated

arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?

↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao

↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again

arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me

yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me

charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 social media au #Charles leclerc smau #arthur leclerc x reader #Arthur leclerc smau #Charles leclerc social media au #Arthur leclerc social media au

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Late Manchester Nights

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x pregnant!wife!reader

Word count: close to 700

Warnings: reader having to piss every 2 mins, simon being cute n fluffy, pregnancy?

Summary: The best nights are the ones spent at home.

Late Manchester evenings spent at home were Simon’s favourites. Yours too. You both loved sitting at home, locking out the world, just the two of you. 

And it was about to get a whole lot better. 

Stroking a hand over your very swollen belly, you came back to the couch, after your third bathroom break of the evening. You curl into Simon again, sighing as you both continue watching the show you had put on. He strokes your hair as you two watch the show. You feel so comfortable and safe being wrapped up in his arms, especially since you’re in your third trimester and need the support. Simon’s touch always calms you down, his scent always reassuring.

“He kickin’? I feel something,” Simon breaks the silence between you two. 

“He’s always kicking,” you take his hand and place it on your belly. 

“Lil bugger’s strong, ain’t he?” he chuckles softly. “Only a month to go, lovie.”

“5 weeks, technically. And he’s strong like his daddy, just as annoying too,” you giggle. 

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived without you in my life. I don’t want to know what would’ve happened to me. I don’t wanna think about it,” he presses his lips to your forehead.

“Well, for starters, you’d probably never have a home cooked meal,” you tease.

“That’s true. I’ve always been hopeless in the kitchen. No one else could’ve ever taught me. You’ve really made a positive difference in my life. You gave me all the love I needed and more. You made me strong and taught me how to really love someone. Thank you, lovie, I don’t know how else to thank you for everything you’ve done. And I want you to know, I won’t stop ‘til I can make you just as happy as you make me.”

“You already make me so happy,” you lean against him, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re the best.”

He hugs you tightly, enjoying the closeness and the way he can feel your belly against his. He kisses you softly and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“I have to pee again.”

He groans and lets you get up, his arms falling by his sides. “I don’t get it. How many pints of piss could be in that lil body of yours, lovie? Y’can’t just have one pee every once in a while?”

You giggle at him as you waddle to the washroom. He laughs at you, shouting the word ‘penguin’ at you. 

When you come back, he’s still chuckling. You slap his shoulder as you sit down again, sighing. 

“You get more beautiful every day,” Simon whispers. 

“Really?” you look up. 

"You don't even realise your beauty. Every day I look at you, all I see is perfection. You're getting bigger and bigger with our baby but you don't look anything like a fat slob. Y'still as beautiful as the day I met you, if not more. And as you grow more beautiful, so does my love for you,” he mumbles, stroking your cheek. 

“You’re gonna make me blush,” you tease. “You're the best wife any man could ever ask for. I get to wake up next to my gorgeous, pregnant wife every morning, how does that not inspire happiness in me? I get to go home every night next to the light in my world and I don't dread seein' you. We had some rough patches at the beginning but we made it through, and now we get to spend the rest of our lives together,” he nudges your nose with his. “Perfection.”

“You’re too good to me,” you smile, leaning into him. “You know I couldn’t have found anyone better than you? And before you go on about that ‘I’m traumatised’ bullshit, just know that your whole past and everything you’ve been through is why I love you. It makes you stronger every day and I get to be the lucky person sitting by your side watching you become the best version of yourself. You are the best for me, Si.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. 

“Hey Si?”

“Don’t say it, lovie.”

“I have to pee again.”

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[thebimbopalace]

ᥫ᭡. 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁. older bf!nanami hcs that live in my dreams w/ tiny drabbles attached. sfw + n*fw

.ᐟ contains — f!reader, explicit content (mdni), foul language, age gap (reader : early twenties, nanami : late twenties), feminine pet names, reader is in college, use of y/n, fingering, riding, spanking

.ᐟ authors note — this is very self indulgent (especially the first set of hcs). i just want an older boyfriend to stroke my hair and call me a good girl.

older bf!nanami who takes you on weekly trips to barnes and noble. he knows that reading is your way of escaping from the stresses in your life (which he tries to make go away) so, he figures to indulge you whenever you’re feeling down about anything.

older bf!nanami wants you to know money is no object when it comes to what you want. your happiness and mental well-being are a top priority for him. although he expects you to complain when he does spoil you. and you always do, not that it matters to him. he just finds it adorable.

“but kento—“, “but nothing my love, you want books you’re going to get them,” nanami says adamantly as he drags you by the wrist into the bookstore. the smell of paper and coffee beans fills your nose and you visibly relax. it’s like all your worries just melt away, almost as if they never existed. nanami looks at you and smiles fondly as he sees the creases in between your brows go away, your shoulders in their natural resting position, and your eyes sparkle with excitement as they skim the massive bookshelves. nanami grabs a basket, takes your hand, and walks you towards the escalator. “you can get anything you want my sweet, no limits.”

older bf!nanami would take care of you. always making sure you’re eating enough, drinking enough water, and getting sufficient sleep. he just cares so much for you, and the last thing he wants is to see his sweetie pie not at her best. as said above, your mental state and health are at the forefront of his mind.

older bf!nanami knows college is a lot for you. class after class, homework after homework, it seems never-ending. and he’s proud of you for handling it all so well. from what you’ve told him in the past, proper hydration and food consumption weren’t even on your radar during college. how you managed to survive off of water and a granola bar is something he still doesn’t understand.

“hun, i’m home.” silence. “babe?” nanami calls out to you. still nothing. he decides to investigate. as he walks around the main floor of the home, you’re nowhere to be found. he walks upstairs and peeks into your shared bedroom and there you are. Laptop on the bed, papers spread out across the sheets, textbook in your lap, eyes glued to the screen. focused. nanami walks into the room and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead. “hi hun.” you mumble something that sounds like “hey,” as you keep typing away.

“did you eat today?” he inquires. no answer. but from the way your fingers slowed down on the keyboard, he got his answer. nanami takes his massive hand and cups your chin, forcing, albeit gently, you to look at him. “i’ll ask again, did you eat today?” he firmly reiterates. your eyes shift away from him as you mumble a small “no.” he sighs. not out of disappointment, but out of concern for you. his hand slides from your chin down your neck and tucks a strand behind your ear. “up baby, i’ll make you something to eat then we’ll rest together, m’kay?”

older bf!nanami is a foreplay enthusiast. sometimes, it’s more fulfilling to him than the act itself. the teasing touches, kisses, and gentle licks to your most sensitive spots. and it’s worth seeing your reactions.

older bf!nanami who knows patience just isn’t in your vocabulary. your little mannerisms to urge him to hurry, makes his heart flutter. the bucking of your hips, your whines, and whimpers make the torture worth it to him.

“ken, please hurry,” you whine as his fingers stroke your pink walls deeply. he keeps your legs spread over his thighs as your back is pressed into his chest. his warm breath brushes against your ear as nanami whispers “mmm, maybe i should teach you patience y/n by not letting this pussy cum.” your stomach drops at that thought and immediately shake your head, not wanting to be punished. a low chuckle escapes his lips. “good girl. keep bein’ that and you’ll be rewarded,” he says as his thumb circles your clit. “hngh, kentooo!” you mewled loudly as mouthwatering friction is applied to the hard bud. his giant fingers split you open while the pads knead your g-spot with accuracy. “gods that pussy’s jus’ clamping around my fingers baby. feels good, doesn’t it pretty girl?”

older bf!nanami loves it when you ride him. normally or in reverse. i mean, how could he not love looking at you in that position? feeling the weight of you on his lap as you bounce up and down, your tits in his face (which makes it easier for him to suck on your nipples), to the way you cling onto his muscular physique as pleasure racks your brain. truly a gift.

older bf!nanami spanks you when you’re on top of him. there i said it. whether it’s to urge you to pick up your pace or to just watch as the fat jiggles from the impact, he has to see it. and he knows you love it when he spanks your ass or thigh. somehow, the pain provokes you to move faster, harder on him. you just want to satisfy him, and he couldn’t love you more when you’re like that.

“don’t stop y/n, feels fuckin’ good,” nanami groans as the fat of your ass crashes on his lap with every bounce of your hips. his hands clutch onto your hips as his fingers leave indents on the skin. “k-kento, ahh,” you whimper as your pace slows down. your knees and thighs begin to ache from the constant up-and-down movements on your lover. a rough smack hits your ass cheek as he says “did i tell you to stop?”, “no,” you say breathlessly. “then keep going,” he growls as his hand spanks your cheeks again. and again. and again. with each hit, your movements speed up. it’s like the cramping in your thighs is nonexistent as his large cock pounds in and out of you. loud skin-slapping sounds vibrate through the bedroom as your moves never cease. “that’s my girl.”

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

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