#but I’m also making this post in hopes that I get blocked. yes. I want to get blocked by people who don’t like this post. thank you

[gracie-rosee]

Sometimes I feel like I’m part of the few people in this fandom who is obsessed with these books in a normal way.

I love Rhys and Nesta. I love Azriel and Lucien and Mor and Elain. I love Cassian and Amren and Varian. I love Gwyn. I love Emerie. I love Jurian. I love Vassa! I love everyone.

I ship Elain and Azriel, and I believe they’re going to get the next book. I love Elriel but I also really love what Elucien could be and I read Elucien fic and I make art for them!! I’ve read Gwynriel fics because my amazing writer friends wrote them, and they are incredible.

I love some characters a lot more than others for sure, but I’ve never dedicated my entire blog to being anti-anything.

I hope this reaches the right audience. I want to make more friends who like and ship different things than me because I love seeing why people enjoy them so much. If something makes you happy, hell yeah I wanna know why!

This isn’t a joke. I want to be friends with people who have different likes than me. But every time I go and follow someone who likes a different ship than me, their blog is full of negativity towards everything and everyone else. :(

I want to fill my feed with nothing but positivity. If this is calls to you, hi. Let’s be friends!

#Sarah j Maas #maasverse #throne of glass #acotar #crescent city #idk if I should tags ships because I want to reach the right people on ALL sides. but I also want to *reach* all sides. #but I’m also making this post in hopes that I get blocked. yes. I want to get blocked by people who don’t like this post. thank you

[theyluvkarolina]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓

Part 2 of `` 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 ``

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` when you know, you know. ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Being in love with your friend is the best! Until your wort dream comes true. However, there might be hope after all.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ lando norris x friend!reader (one-sided love), carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌 ୨୧ none!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ angstish…? (fluff for reader now!), sex jokes (i’m sorry I couldn’t help myself), GOOGLE TRANSLATED SPANISH!!

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 ୨୧ Margaret - Lana Del Rey

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ Pt 2 is done! i love carlos and i stand by the fact he types emojis and uses them like a mom. also, oml, the amount of photos here is actually insane 😭😭

iMessages

Are you sure you want to block both Lando Norris and Bsf/N?

>No >Yes

Lando Norris and Bsf/N have been blocked.

INSTAGRAM

y/n.jpeg

liked by, landonorris, carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and others

y/n.jpeg fictional men >>> real men

1,234 comments

username1 get lando OUT of the likes 💀

username2 men have the absolute audacity

username3 imagine losing your friendship and treating a sweetest girl like shit. isn’t me but it is lando and Ex-Bsf/N 🤷‍♀️

lailahasanovic ✔︎ the hottest 😮‍💨

→ y/n.jpeg LOOK IN THE MIRROR 💕

lilymunihe ✔︎ she’s my gf guys!!

→ alex_albon ✔︎ uhm… i’m right here → lilymunihe ✔︎ and? → alex_albon ✔︎ wow. → georgerussell ✔︎ imagine your gf getting stolen by her own friend 😂 → y/n.jpeg carmen is next georgie boy. → carmenmundt ✔︎ 😳

(ex)ybsf_username wifey 🤍 🤍

→ y/n.jpeg ex-wife actually. → username4 TELL HER Y/N!! → username5 Y/N saying it how it is. → username6 ex-Bsf/N literally cannot read the room.

iMessages

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y/n.jpeg

liked by carlossainz55, franscicac.gomes, lilymunihe and others

y/n.jpeg girls night ❤️

tagged ; franscicac.gomes, lilymunihe, alexandrasaintmleux

2,345 comments

charles_leclerc ✔︎ still waiting for that pasta recipe 😓

→ alexandrasaintmleux char, i think there's a reason y/n isn’t giving it to you… → charles_leclerc ✔︎ what does that mean?! → alexandrasaintmleux i can’t say it i feel too bad 😞 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ @ charles_leclerc you’re a shit cook. → charles_leclerc ✔︎ wow. thank you max. 😐 → alexandrasaintmleux still love you! 🩷 → charles_leclerc ✔︎ …je t'aime aussi 🫶

username7 anyone know the resturant??

y/n.jpeg it’s Truffle Bistrot in Monaco!

username8 has anyone else noticed how carlos has been constantly liking her photos? like as soon as Y/N posts??

→ usernme9 I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE → username10 carlos will treat her right 100% → username11 better than lando ever would 😬

TWITTER

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y/n.jpeg

📍 Barcalona, Spain

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others

y/n.jpeg ¡Hola Espana!

3,245 comments

carlossainz55 ✔︎ beautiful! 🤩

→ charles_leclerc ✔︎ 🤨 🤨

carlossainz55 ✔︎ although, madrid is a much better place in spain, I can give you a tour next time! 😊

→ username12 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??? → username13 carlos making the moves??? → username14 HELP HE’S SUCH A MILLENNIAL → y/n.jpeg you say that as if you haven’t toured me around madrid when you were still at McLaren after the Spanish GP 🤔 → carlossainz55 yes but, it wasn’t just you and me 😉 → username15 AYO??? → username16 okay mr. sainz we see you → username17 he’s making the moves now that y/n isn’t crushing on lando 💀 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ this was the worst flirting i’ve seen since charles and alexandra. → charles_leclerc ✔︎ enough of this 😞

TWITTER

iMessages

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y/n.jpeg posted a story 1 minute ago!

y/n.jpeg

📍Madrid, Spain

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, kellypiquet and others

y/n.jpeg first date kinda nervous 😵‍💫

…. comments

username18 HELLO???

username18 this was not on my 2024 calendar.💀

username19 bro lando is gonna be LIVID.

username20 girl said “you date my bsf, i date yours” 😭

username21 SHE’S NOT EVEN HIDING IT

carlossainz55 ✔︎ hermosa ❤️

→ y/n.jpeg says the one with the best hair ever 🥴🥴 → carlossainz55 you flatter me too much 🙃

username22 kinda living for them together.

username23 better than Lando 🤷‍♀️

username24 hopped from one driver to another… not a good look 😬

→ username25 and lando hopped from one bsf to another??? not a good look for him 😬 😬

iMessages

TWITTER

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y/n.jpeg

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and others

y/n.jpeg 🎙️ switching sides 🗣️

3,653 comments

carlossainz55 ✔︎ you look better in red ❤️

y/n.jpeg oh hush you’re making me blush 😣

oscarpiastri ✔︎ kind of offended at the moment…

→ y/n.jpeg whoopsies… sorry osc!! you are still my favorite driver that mclaren 🫶 → oscarpiastri ✔︎ favorite? I’m honored. → username26 probably her favorite for a reason 💀

username27 they weren’t lying when they said “everyone is a ferrari fan”

username28 that carlos photo is literally a jumpscare 😞😞

→ y/n.jpeg he might be a jumpscare but he’s my jumpscare 🫶

charles_leclerc ✔︎ please stop flirting in the garage I don’t need to see this.

→ y/n.jpeg quiet. last time i checked my bf didn’t post a tik tok with THAT audio. → alexandrasaintmleux okay! that’s enough information!

y/n.jpeg

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and others

y/n.jpeg when he can cook >>>

4,012 comments

charles_leclerc ✔︎ this feels very targeted 😓😓

→ y/n.jpeg maybe it is → charles_leclerc ✔︎ is my cooking that bad 🙁 → alexandrasaintmleux well… you definitely improved! :) → username29 HELPPP ALEX 😭😭 → charles_leclerc ✔︎ @ alexandrasaintmleux who are you and what did you do to my alex.

username30 1/2 ferrari drivers being able to cook is a world record

→ y/n.jpeg thank god i have the one that can!! → alexandrasaintmleux 😅

4 months later…

f1

liked by carlossainz55, yn.jpeg, ferrari and others

f1 Carlos Sainz wins in Singapore! His first Smoooooth Operation in Ferrari! 🌶️ 🏁

6,354 comments

username31 smooooooooooth operatorrrrr

username32 AS HE SHOULD ‼️

username33 ferrari's only hope this season 😭🙏

username34 someone besides Red Bull winning??

y/n.jpeg my boy ❤️

→ carlossainz55 mi amor 🫶 → username35 stop it they are so cute → username36 "my boy" 🥲 → username37 I still remember when lando was "her boy" 😕 → username38 lando is the past. Carlos is Y/N's present and future. leave Lando back.

TWITTER

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landonorris

liked by (ex)ybsf_username and others

landonorris when i win podium >>>

tagged: (ex)ybsf_username

3,561 comments

username39 ew a ex-Bsf/N sighting

username40 this did NOT eat

username41 i don’t want to see ex-Bsf/N bazongas 🙁

→ username42 BAZONGAS 💀💀

username43 i love the fact no one on the grid or the wags BESIDES ex-Bsf/N liked this post 😭

username44 as they should tbh 🙏🙏

username45 HE-HE-HELL NAH 🗣️ 🔥🚨 🔥🚨 🔥🚨🗣️‼️

mclaren ✔︎ 😬

→ username46 EVEN MCLAREN DISAPPROVES

(ex)ybsf_username my boy ❤️

→ username47 I KNOW SHE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT. → username48 NO WAY SHE TOOK Y/N NICKNAME FOR LANDO NOW TOO…

y/n.jpeg

liked by carlossainz55, lilymunihe, franscicac.gomes and others

y/n.jpeg when MY BOY finishes 1st on and off the track 🤭 >>>

tagged ; carlossainz55

5,436 comments

username49 MISS GIRL.

username50 WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE THIS

username51 THE CARLOS CRUMBS

username52 CARLOS CRUMBS??? THE Y/N CRUMBS ARE INSANE

username53 THIS IS DEFINITELY A CLAP BACK AT THE LANDO POST 😭

charles_leclerc ✔︎ ENOUGH OF THIS.

→ carlossainz55 is it wrong to show a certain someone what he’s missing? 😅 → charles_leclerc ✔︎ NOT AT ALL BUT NOT LIKE THIS

lilymunihe there are kids here 😕

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris

📍 Japan

landonorris podiummmm babbbbyyyyy 🏆

6,435 comments

username54 no ex-Bsf/N?

username55 after the fight i’m not surprised about a no ex-Bsf/N post 😬

username56 FIGHT???

→ username57 you didn’t hear? apparently, lando never liked ex-Bsf/N and they started fighting about Y/N and what happened to her… it’s definitely a “holy shit” moment …

COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN LIMITED.

landonorris posted a story 30 seconds ago!

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y/n.jpeg karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me!

1 comment

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carlossainz55 ✔︎ mi querida ❤️ Siempre agradecida de que un evento tan malo nos haya reunido hasta donde estamos hoy. Wouldn't change it for the world!

ENG: (My dear ❤️ Always grateful that such a bad event has brought us together as far as we are today. Wouldn't change it for the world!)

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 ;

message failed to send!

𝐀/𝐍 2 ୨୧ Soooo… about that ending… 😍 Thank you to the Anon that came up with this idea! I decided to incorporate it into the story someway since i loved the thought sm! Everyone say “thank you Anon!!”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ; @mangotaitai , @folklorsweet , @callsignwidow , @mia-rrrs , @clown-fc , @stvrdustalexx , @dessxoxsworld , @minkyungseokie , @dr4g0ngirl , @imsiriuslyreal , @oscarwildingsworld , @poseidonssoen31, @eringaitskill , @allywthsr , @khaylin27 , @itsjustkhaos , @aundercover , @moonyseyelash , @runs-with-sciss0rs , @ironmaiden1313 , @malynn , @littlehoneyfreak , @azxulaa , @ijustgomessitupx , @sp1rl , @oliveswiftly , @fragilemuses , @ivegotparticulartaste , @karinasbae , @elijahslover ,

For those that are NOT underlined, please make sure you have the ability to be tagged!

The most common reason is that your blog is just hidden. Tumblr user mentions rely on Tumblr’s user searches, so if you’re hidden from Tumblr searches, you’re hidden from authors being able to tag you. Or, your blog is a new baby blog! It’ll take a bit for you to start showing up in the search engine.

#f1 x reader #☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝ #☆ﾟ smau ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝ #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc #alexandra saint mleux #kika gomes #lily muni he #alex albon #formula one x y/n #f1 angst #f1 x female reader

[art]

Creator Spotlight: GDBee Art (@prinnay)

Geneva Bowers is inspired by the wonders of the natural world around us, and enjoys manipulating colors to create art full of mood and feelings.

Check out our interview with Geneva below!

How did you get started with art? Did you originally have a background in art?

I’m going to say yes because that’s all I’ve known how to do. It started because I wanted to draw better horses than my sister, and it just spiraled from there. People started asking me to draw things because they saw me drawing horses. I was like, well, I can draw things that aren’t horses, and then it was just kind of all I did. 

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

I have one right now! Honestly, with time, and I also collect art books; I think I have a couple hundred. If I really want to draw something, then I just flip through those and try to steal some ideas.

Which three famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I mean, of course Van Gogh…I’m really inspired by Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, so I would invite Van Gogh, Monet, and Julie Dillon to a dinner party.

Have you ever wanted to dive into another medium before?

Yeah, actually, I currently am! I’m trying to do more traditional painting. I used to do a lot of acrylics, but I haven’t done it in years, and now I’m kind of bad at it. I’m trying to get into actual impressionistic art with oils and oil pastels. I’m like failing, but you know, you get there. Just fail until it looks presentable. 

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I guess it’s more of a feeling. I create art because I’m inspired by things around me, like certain video games. For example, I have been inspired by a Japanese RPG called Chrono Cross on PlayStation 1. They make me feel a certain type of inspiration to create something, so that’s kind of like what I’m hoping to leave behind. 

Have any of your projects surprised you with their outcome?

Yeah! I did this Weapon Faerie series where I took three prompts: a weapon, a winged insect, and an herb, which I combined to make different characters. So, a faerie with a spiked club or a butterfly faerie with a katana. I made 13 of those, and they kind of took off! I wasn’t expecting that at all.

What is the hardest part of your process?

My whole art style is coloring, like the way it’s colored… but I hate the coloring process, haha. I like doing the color combos, but I don’t like the blending and shading. That takes like one-trillion years. It’s the part where I’m most likely to give up. You know how art kind of looks ugly before it looks good? I’m trying to trust that process. 

What do you wish you knew when you started creating art that you know now?

I guess one big thing would be knowing how to use lights and darks. When I do color, it is definitely colorful, but when you switch it to black and white, you see that everything’s the same tone of gray. I’ve learned that if you just use some brighter colors and some darker shades, you create a bigger impact in the end. So, now, when I paint something digital, I make it black and white for a moment to see where all the hues are, and if something is weirdly dark or not dark enough, I can change it.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

Oh, @feefal definitely inspires me. She does a lot of spooky art.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #gdbee art #prinnay #nycc 2023 #tumblr nycc #nycc

[uncouth-the-fifth]

click, p.2 - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (late s5) Tags/Warnings: angst, love confessions, romantic sex, oral sex/cunnilingus, (aka, Sam pussy addiction: the shequel), Sam is Lucifer's vessel, reader is AFAB. Word Count: ~11k. Notes: i was commissioned for the second time by the lovely @daffodil-mania, who wanted a continuation of her last fic set during the "say yes" era of s5. (sooooo dangerous to let me put my grubby hands on this version of Sam, btw). i cannot express how BUCK FUCKING WILD uncouth-nation went for the first part of this fic, so this is for all the wonderful people who gushed over click, commented, threw me some kudos, or even just read it and liked it. lots of love, and i hope you enjoy <3 i did my best to rip out your soul as best i could. THIS CAN STAND ON IT'S OWNNN AHHH. i mean. if u wanna read it <3 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

FIVE YEARS LATER

The walk from the bus stop to your apartment is a safe and easy seven minutes. If you were any other person in any other world, you’d glide onto the bus after your night shift at the university, hop off at your stop, and bumble toward your apartment without a single care in the world. Maybe stare at your phone the whole walk back. Text a hot guy who isn’t the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. Normal stuff.

But this is your life, so you sit front seat on the bus, hands in your lap, tapping a nervous beat against the angel blade hidden in your book bag. The windows rattle in their frames and gleam with rain. You could get off at your stop and take those easy seven minutes home—but the bus driver could also be a demon, so.

Since you aren’t in the mood to die a slow death tonight, walking a few extra blocks to keep anybody from knowing where you live will have to work.

On day two of this, you’d called Dean and asked if you were being extra paranoid. He’d kindly pointed out: Extra-paranoid is just extra-survival. I dunno about you, but survivin’ a lil’ extra sounds fan-fuckin-tastic to me right about now.

He’s right. You know he’s right. But it still doesn’t feel like a good answer, and that makes you picture Sam, twenty-three and still bright-eyed, running his fingers down your bare back and scowling. I’m sick of surviving. One of these days, I want to actually live my life.

But that had been before the apocalypse, before Dean’s deal, before everything. Sam was a different man now. Hunting had reached into all three of you and ripped all sorts of things out, but you would never forgive it for taking Sam’s hope for something better. God, you missed that Sam. You missed him more than anything.

The city bus lumbers up to the curb and spits you out onto the sidewalk, where you superstitiously hover, waiting for the other passengers crawling away from their night shifts to scatter. It’s only when the bus is a dark spot in the mist down the street that you start to walk, your whole body caked head to toe with oily rain. 

This time, you take a random left toward your apartment and serpentine street-to-street, never walking the exact same way the same week. By the time you’re closer to where the bus could’ve actually dropped you off, the lingering smell of old research books has been practically power-washed out of your clothes. You try to think of anything but the freezing, biting, face-stinging rain… and, like a moth to a flame, your mind floats back to Sam.

It’s been over two weeks since he dropped the nuclear option. Over two weeks ago, Sam wanted to say yes to Lucifer, and over two weeks have passed since the massive, unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object fight that’d erupted as a result.

Dean had blown up. Sam had pushed. You’d burst into tears and clawed into Sam just as deep, because why, why would he ever go there—why would that even be a fathomable possibility in his mind? Did he really think so low of himself? How could he ever give up like that? How could he leave you—?

The worst part was easily the way Sam had reacted. With Dean or John, he could yell himself hoarse, but when it came to fighting you all he could do was sit and take it. He put his head down and nodded at everything you said, even the cruel things. In some ways it made you angrier, but also inconceivably, cosmically guilty. This was Sam’s choice. And of course, because this was Sam, his choice was to save the whole goddamn world. Not a single bone in your body carried that level of selflessness, yet Sam bled the stuff.

You were still furious with him, but only because being mad at him was the only option you had left. The right thing to do would be to tell Sam, I trust you to make this decision, this is your life, and let him take that jump… But you didn’t have it in you. Saying that felt like pushing him over the ledge yourself, or telling him you’d never cared about him in the first place. If you were angry at least you were still fighting for him in some way.

You’d been on board for everything—trying to find a way out of Dean’s deal, trying to kill Lilith, everything. But the argument with Sam had torn out the final piece of you that could stand this, so you packed a bag, told Dean you’d be in a strict research-only role, and booked it back to your hometown. It was cowardly and stupid and beyond selfish, but you knew your stance. The hunt had taken everything from you. You refused to let it take Sam, too.

Maybe, Sam would take you stepping away as a serious sign to change his mind. You couldn’t imagine a world where Sam and his Winchester stubbornness would ever do that, but. It was a nice wish to hold onto.

By the time you make it up the steps to your apartment building, you’re soaked to the bone and audibly making pathetic shivering sounds. Your bookbag feels heavier than ever, digging a trench into your shoulder as you fish around for your keys. The second your apartment door is open the true weight of your exhaustion hits you—

—and then utterly disappears, replaced by a shock of pure adrenaline.

There’s a new pair of boots by your front door.

You catch the heavy door before it goes swinging against the doorjamb, straining your ears against the ringing silence. The bedside lamp is on in your room.

On dead-quiet feet, you slip in, click the door shut behind you, and slip off your bookbag. Your angel blade is in your hand in a second, but you risk a few extra steps toward your kitchen table to wiggle loose the pistol you taped underneath. Just the weight of your weapons in your hands flicks the hunter muscle memory back on in your body, and before you can think you’re hiding in the shadow beside your bedroom door. Listening.

Soft breathing. The pages of a book turning.

You know, instinctively, who it is—you would know him dumb and blind and dead. But these days, anybody could be piloting his body around.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, heart throbbing in your ears. You wait until the fingers on your gun aren’t shaking anymore, then burst inside the room, slamming the door into the wall and whipping your pistol up to eye level.

Sam’s head flinches towards you. He is exactly as you saw him two weeks ago; solemn, determined, and open, the air around him practically steaming with safety and goodness. He’s sat comfortably on your bed, reading a book he brought with him. Despite everything, your belly still curls with butterflies when you lay eyes on him. Sam. Definitely Sam, and no one else.

Still, your paranoia has gotten you this far. You both stare at each other for a beat, equal parts scared out of your minds and relieved. Without a word, you keep your gun trained on him, and Sam lets you, his eyes big and understanding. You shuffle sideways to your dresser, and without turning away from him, pop open the top drawer and toss him the silver flask of holy water you keep hidden inside. 

He catches it. So, not a shapeshifter, then. Sam takes a drink of the holy water, even turning to the side so you can see the water go into his mouth. (A demon in Missouri had slipped past the three of you by pretending to sip—only Sam would know that.) You’re still a little terrified, but you manage to pull your weapons back down to your sides. You still don’t know what to say.

He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things.

You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?”

Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”

There’s another long pause. Usually when you stare at Sam, he doesn’t stare so intensely back, but you share a weird mutual moment where you just stand there and take each other in. It’s so obvious it’s painful, but if he’s doing it then you feel entitled to devour him with your eyes too.

“I got, uh, bored. Waiting for you,” Sam clarifies. “Thought I’d make myself useful.”

Sam stands from the bed. For a second you think he’s heading straight for you, but he moves toward the dresser behind you, kindly tucking the holy water back where it was stowed. You flit out of his way as fast as you can and set your weapons down on the closest available surface, feeling off-kilter. Why would he come here? Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind?

You hold onto the question, but you know it’s too out of character to hope for. Despair sinks into your gut like a rock in a pond. You know why Sam’s here. He would never make this decision without telling you first—without at least saying goodbye in person.

Your throat locks up with tears.

Behind you, Sam hums, “You changed your hair.”

Right. You’d altered it to be more undercover. You resist the urge to reach up and play with your hair, or give in to any of the fluttery feelings you always feel around Sam. “It’s safer.” Tightly, you ask him, “What are you doing here?”

Sam drags a long breath through his nose. You clutch the end of your bookshelf, your chest crumpling with misery. Please don’t say it. Please, please, lie to me if you have to.

“...I’m not taking the jump,” Sam breathes.

There’s more that he says after that. He talks about how you and Dean are right, and how, surely, after everything that the three of you have been through, there’s got to be another way to end this. You’ve always found another way in the past. Sam explains all this to you in a sure, quiet voice, like this is something he’s thought about for a long time, but you barely hear him after those first words. There’s this persistent tension in your chest that’s telling you that there’s something wrong here, but you don’t care—you don’t give a single fucking shit, because Sam—Sam isn’t saying yes. Sam’s staying.

“…are other ways I can make up for the mistakes I made,” he’s telling you, scrambling to fill the nagging silence.

You take a moment to force back your tears, and Sam, nervously, keeps talking.

He swallows, trying to smile. “I-I would’ve called and told you, but something tells me you wouldn’t have picked up.”

When you’ve got your bearings back, you push away from your bookshelf and turn to face him. Your legs are so leaden that you feel as if you have to physically pick up your body and drop it down the other direction, but you manage it. “What… what made you change your mind?”

Sam gets one look at your face and wilts with guilt. He doesn’t answer your question in words—just shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at his feet, then around your room, as if his reason was in the air with the two of you. In the apartment. His eyes flicker over you just once, and you understand. Seeing you leave really had scared him.

“Be careful,” you start to joke with him, “you start validating my childish reactions and we’re gonna have a whole new set of problems on our hands.”

Sam scoffs. “It wasn’t childish to run away.”

You raise an eyebrow at his word choice, which gets an honest-to-god laugh out of him. A real good Sam Winchester laugh, dimples and all. The last dregs of anxiety in your gut melt at the sound, and Sam reassures you, shrugging, “You needed to get out. In case you forgot, I kind of invented wanting to get out. I understand. I really do.”

You know that he does. That’s not exactly going to stop you from feeling guilty about ditching them, but at least it kicked some sense into him. God. For the last five or six years, your every moment had been spent with Sam and his brother. Even just a couple weeks without him had drained you, and having him back only makes those feelings more clear. Sam’s presence commands the space in a way that turns your shitty, undecorated bedroom into someplace magical, someplace good and safe and warm, and just seeing him standing there draws the ache out of your spine.

Your reach out for his sleeve. Somehow, he’s more real than ever, a tangible person instead of the memory you’ve chased for so long.

“You’re really not saying yes?”

Sam unwinds your hand from the fabric so he can hold it instead, your fingers scooped in his fingers. You’re given a firm squeeze and are hypnotized by him in an instant, the world narrowing down to this moment between just him and just you.

Sam looks into your eyes when he promises, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears you’d resisted before return in one big, merciless wave. You’re so tired and the rain was so fucking cold and you’re so sick of being scared that Sam, thank god, Sam, is everything you could possibly need. He’s not going anywhere. Before you can stop yourself you’re clutching him for dear life, shoving your face in his shirt and crushing his body against yours. These last few weeks have submerged you in survival mode, and you don’t realize how deep until Sam pulls you out of the current. He’s warm and dry, and when you inhale to sob he smells like a 24-hour-laundromat, the Impala, and home home home. You could’ve lost that. You could’ve lost him.

“Th-thank you,” you choke out at nothing in particular, “thank you.”

You’ve cried a lot this week, so there are not many tears left to shed. Still, Sam holds you through all of them, swaying back and forth with you and cooing in your ear. You hear him sniffling too. When you’re both all sobbed out, you pull back to tell him you love him, to remind him of all the things he needs to hear, but Sam strangely doesn’t let you. The second he feels you pull away he clutches you back against him, and you get the uneasy impression that you’ve been comforting him more than he’s been comforting you. His whole body’s shaking.

Sam hugs you for longer than he ever has before. It’s a little worrying, but you’ve both needed it so much that you don’t even complain.

After a while, Sam slips back, and in traditional Winchester fashion tries to play off his vulnerability. He’s always been a dead-silent crier, so you have zero way to gauge how bad things are until you see his face. He looks like he’d sobbed his heart out. Your shirt is still wet from the rain, but even then you can feel Sam’s tears soaking your shoulder. Saying anything about it will just embarrass him, though.

“...I-I, uh,” you lick the tears off your lips, mumbling, “I don’t know bout’ you, but I’m beat. Do you have somewhere you gotta be, or,” you add hopefully, “or can you stick around?”

This is the part where Sam will start coaxing you to drive back with him to where he and Dean are holed up, you’re sure of it. You’re already plotting in your head what to pack and what to take, but Sam never brings it up. He doesn’t worry about tomorrow yet.

He presses his lips together. “I was hoping I could stay here tonight, actually.”

This is an even better answer. You’re nodding before he’s even finished the thought, stroking your hand down his chest. It twists your gut in knots to see him like this, so you start to steer the conversation toward something more playful, something less daunting to think about.

“You’re lucky I like you then,” you smirk. Somehow, you manage to peel yourself out of his bubble and teeter toward your dresser, scrubbing the tears off your face. “Make yourself comfortable. I dunno about you, but I’m getting the fuck out of these work clothes, I’m freezing. Do you need anything to sleep in? I’ve got at least five years of your stolen shirts in here.”

You hear him ease himself down on the end of your bed again, but there’s no sassy retort, sly comment, or any sort of line about you and your stealing habits. Instead, sweet and simple, he says, “I’ll just sleep in this. You can have them.”

Okay. Weird.

Since he didn’t take the bait, you throw out another line and try again. This time, you kick off your shoes, open a drawer, and turn back to him with two of his shirts in hand. “Really?” You wave them teasingly in the air. “You sure?”

They are some of his best shirts, easy. You’re not a cheap thief. The first is a holey, feather-soft Red Hot Chili Peppers tee, and the second is a deep maroon Stanford sweater. He has so few artifacts from that time in his life that there’s no way he won’t want this one back. Right?

But Sam just gazes at you, his whole face soft and loving as he says, “You should wear the Stanford one. It looks good on you.”

Those old hot-shivery feelings for him seep down your spine, and you feel in real-time how your cheeks flood with heat. Damn, okay. Consider yourself wooed.

You’ve been down this road with Sam many, many times—enough to know when he’s flirting with you. The forbidden labels had never been thrown around, but. Well. Sam had been your first time, as well as the many other times after that.

He’s usually leagues more subtle than his brother, but for whatever reason he’s pouring it on by the truckload tonight. When you turn around he’s nothing but big, happy puppy eyes, waiting patiently for you at the end of the bed. (Like you’re his girlfriend. Like anything about this is normal at all, and you and Sam are going to tuck into bed together like it’s any other night). Fuck, you missed him.

The bathroom is only a few steps away, but this is Sam, so you decide to just throw on your pajamas right here. Your shirt is so wet that it hits the floor with a slap. It also takes some experience to wring yourself out of your denim-turned-cement jeans, so it’s not the sexiest show in the entire world. Still, Sam’s gaze traces sensual lines down your back. You would rather go to literal, actual hell than wear your bra for a minute longer, so the second you’re free of its death grip, a long happy sigh drains out of you. A similar dreamy sigh drains out of Sam. Dork.

“I will never get tired of that,” Sam murmurs. You expect to hear some kind of hunger there, but the timber of his voice bleeds with admiration and fondness.

There are very few ways to be a normal human being while Sam Winchester adores your nude body with his eyes. The best you can do is burst into flustered, giggly laughter and give him a good eyeroll, your entire face cooking like a stove burner.

“Alright, loverboy,” you scoff, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and take my makeup off—”

“Can I help?” Sam asks.

You sputter out another laugh, confused. “You wanna brush my teeth for me?”

“No,” Sam shakes his head, smiling big, “Lemme take your makeup off for you.”

Okay. Weirder. But it’s sweet, and you like this side of him, so you decide to indulge his mood. “...Sure.”

You go about your night-time routine. Sam continues to be a weirdo, trailing you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, and blinking slow endearing blinks at you as he… watches you brush your teeth. Just. Stands there, watching, utterly enamored with this little moment of domesticity with you. On the surface level you’re a little thrown off, but it falls under the category of Freaky Sam Things that made you catch feelings for him in the first place, so. You grin into your toothbrush the whole time.

When he’s satisfied by his little ogling fest, he drifts off to hunt around for your makeup wipes. Either you’re predictable or he knows you too well, because he finds them within seconds, and patiently sits back as you finish up your routine, watching you like you’ll disappear on him the moment he turns away. Click click, you feel inside you.

“Okay,” he says when you’re done. “Close your eyes.”

You do. You wait for the cool touch of the wipe on your face, but instead, Sam’s big, rough fingers find your chin and hold you still. It takes conscience effort to not melt into his touch like a cat in a square of sunlight. Your willpower is nothing on Sam’s, though, so you give in quickly, sinking into his hand and sighing through your nose. In gentle swipes, he cleans your face. It must be a nightmare of smeared mascara considering how you’d cried earlier… And yet Sam had still been so transfixed by you. He’s the fucking best.

Sam’s hand tilts your head from side to side to survey his handiwork. Pleased, he tosses the wipe in the trash and says, “There you go.”

You open your eyes and go to double-check his work in the mirror, but Sam hasn’t removed his hand from your chin, and you really, really don’t want him to. His thick thumb comes up and caresses under your lips. He looks at you like he loves you, and with all the honesty in the world, he utters, “...You are so pretty.”

…The only way for you to survive this is by throwing him a dry look. “You’re full of shit. What’s your game, Winchester?”

That earns you another authentic Sam laugh, along with a handsome boyish smile. “There’s no game. What are you talking about?”

You squint at him. Liar.

“This.” You gestured between the two of you, suspicious. “You’re mooning over me. Why are you mooning? Are you planning something?”

A ripple of discomfort rolls across Sam’s face, but it passes too fast for you to read. His hands go right back in his pockets and he leans into the doorframe again. “I’m just… happy we’re not fighting,” he confesses.

Oh. That makes sense. Sam hasn’t exactly made up with you like that before, but. These times change everyone. You ease up on your teasing and admit, “Me too.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you away,” Sam says, and far, far too seriously for your liking, he whispers, “I’m sorry for everything.”

Your answer slips right out of your mouth without hesitation. “I forgive you, stupid,” your brows furrow together. “And I’m sorry, too. I said some pretty shitty stuff back there.”

Sam wilts against the doorframe a little. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

A dull pulse of anger flares in your chest, which flickers out and dies not a second later. There’s so much you want to say to that.

It is so fucking unfair—biblically, cosmically unfair—that Sam, the good guy to end all good guys, thinks of himself this way. He is the kind of righteous they make saints out of. And yet he sits in your silly little bathroom in your shitty little apartment and gives you that look, the look that says, I deserve this and so much more. I deserve to rot in hell for all eternity. He gave you that exact look when he brought up saying yes. He gives it to you now, because Sam sees everything as a sin to serve penance for—freeing Lucifer from the cage and making you a little worried. He thinks he’s so evil, so beyond saving. It makes you want to get your fists in your shirt and just shake him. 

You’re good! You want to scream. Just for once in your life, listen to me! None of this is your fault!

There’s nothing you could say to him that would ever make him let go of his guilt. But, at the very least, you could help him forget about it for a while.

“You beat yourself up too much,” you scold. Then, softer, you add, “C’mere, Sammy.”

Sam does as told, planting himself right in front of you. God, he’s changed. You look him over with a bittersweet smile. He used to be so spindly. The last few years have filled him out, forcing his body into something ready for war. The hunt reached in and tore all sorts of things out of people, but you’d been wrong about what it’d ripped out of Sam. His optimism was still there, warm and humming in the tissue of his body, and just seeing it fills you with hope. He looks so different from the man you’d had all to yourself in that cabin, but you can feel that he’s still in there. He’s still your Sam.

You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs into his dimples and quietly, needily rasping, “...Can I take care of you?”

Sam’s whole body shudders with relief. “Please, yes.”

The next few beats of this dance haven’t changed. Like always, Sam comes flying in with a big, smashing kiss that shatters any leftover barriers between you. You’re not Sam’s girlfriend and he’s not your boyfriend, but Sam makes you his with this kiss. (If only for a little while). Your noses mash together and his eyes squeeze shut and then everything is just Sam, Sam, Sam at every angle. His hands are at his sides then suddenly they’re all over you, taking two greedy handfuls of your waist under the Stanford sweater. He jams your hips against his and kisses you senseless, towering over you, surrounding you, so that when you pull back to gasp for breath your lungs are flooded with his familiar heady love potion.

Either he’s giving off some Poison Ivy-level pheromones, or your body is so familiar with these steps that it knows what comes after this kiss… because you’re instantly wet.

You realized a long time ago that you and Sam have sex a bit too often for it to be considered “casual,” but even if it was, Sam is not a casual kind of lay. After that first soul-stealing kiss, Sam stares you down like a four-course meal, spins you around, pushes you down chest-first onto the bathroom counter, drops to his knees—

—and shoves his face between your legs like it’s his goddamn job.

In the middle of all your surprised shrieking and squirming, Sam nuzzles his face into your panties and moans deep and bassy in his throat, “Yes.”

Like he’s won something. Like he’s been waiting weeks to do this. Holy fuck, you’ll never get tired of that.

The second you have even an atom of your reason back, you slap a hand over your mouth. Neighbors! Sam has already forgotten what neighbors are, and is holy-mission-from-god-determined to make you noisy. He’s extra hungry for it tonight, too. You squeak out his name, not so much in shock, but more because having those huge hands squeezing where your ass starts to round out tends to produce a reaction, and Sam rumbles like a lawnmower in approval. Holy fuck.

He doesn’t have to ask you to spread your legs. One of the hands appreciating your ass slides between your thighs, cupping you through your underwear, and you have to try not to squeal when the meaty pad of Sam’s thumb swipes across your clothed folds. He presses a big kiss in that exact spot as he drags your panties down your legs, and it’s a weirdly sweet gesture that makes your heart and your belly flutter with shivery heat. Fuck. Fuck, you missed him so much.

The first few times Sam had sprung this move on you, you hadn’t exactly had enough time to fully rev up. But Sam is deadly efficient in and out of the bedroom, so he makes a point to get you extra wet (for him) with his spit, laving his hot, slippery tongue over you in one long swipe. He eats you out with all the obscene, noisy enjoyment of somebody gorging on the juiciest fruit they’ve ever tasted. Even you are scandalized.

It becomes embarrassingly clear that covering your mouth isn’t going to keep Sam from what he wants. The high, desperate moan you try to stifle only makes him work harder. You press an arm flat to the counter and bury your face in it for strength, since you’re weak and whimpering for him already. 

Sam was good in bed when you met him. But, by nature, he is a relentless and avid learner, and it’s been five whole years since he put his mouth on you for the first time. Now, Sam is a certified pussy-eating weapon. He knows your body better than anyone possibly could. You’re over the edge in a minute flat.

Your climax flies through you in one whizzing, sparking rush, then keeps flying, until your body’s squeezing out little squeaky pleas for mercy of its own accord. This is his favorite part. You claw into the countertop and wail for it, pushing at the floor in your socks to gain any sort of leverage. To press closer? To squirm away? You have zero fucking clue, since the thought part of your brain has been blasted into a smoking crater. Sam wraps a big arm around your spasming thigh to pin you open, and holy fucking shit, could that man suck the chrome off a tailpipe. His mouth is a whirlwind of licking and suction just on the right side of oh fuck too much that makes your skin feel like it’s fizzing. You are a thread that he’s just pulling and pulling until you’re so thin you could snap into nothing—

You wait for the moment when Sam pops off you, stands up, and goes for his zipper, but he never does. He remains on the floor, determined to lick you through overstimulation and straight into round two. But that’s a whole minute you could spend with his dick inside you instead, and there’s no fucking way you’re wasting that. Not when he’s here and real and not going to say yes. Sam’s not going anywhere. He’s staying, he’s alive, and the world isn’t going to end tomorrow.

“No no no,” you bite out in one short, rattling breath. “S-Suh—Sam, please please—” An unexpected sob shreds out of you. “Miss you. Need you.”

You’re actually, genuinely crying, and not entirely in the fun sexed-out way. Sam backs up. He’s not even halfway standing when you wrench him up the rest of the way, straight into a desperate, maddening kiss. It’s a brutal cross of teeth and tongue. The need for body heat and skin and him burns through you like genuine bloodlust, so you cram yourself up against him with life-or-death urgency. You get your nails into him until you feel something like shirt fabric and viciously yank it over his head, waiting for the moment when he grabs your wrists or shoves you onto the bed o-or—or starts to blow off steam. Cause’ that’s what this is all about, right?

He drags your mouths apart. Sam pants, “Slow down.”

You stop.

This is. This is new.

There’s no slowing, with this. You both go and you keep going until there’s no more fuel in your tanks, and you crawl out of bed the next day feeling like you’ve beaten the rot out of each other. You’ve never once slowed down during this before, and as your wheels spin to a halt for the first time, reality filters back in around you.

Sam stares at you. His hair is all over the place. A patchy blush speckles up his heaving chest, burning in his ears and in his cheeks. Your slick shines on his lips and the bulb of his nose. He’s just standing there and fucking looking at you, but for whatever reason it feels like the color has seeped back into the world.

“S’okay. Gonna be okay,” Sam hushes, bleeding with sweetness.

He picks up your hands, moving you as if you were a delicate glass he was turning over in each palm. Each of your hands are kissed in the center (oh my fucking god) then wrapped around his neck, and when he has you in his bubble he scoops up your face and kisses you.

It’s a boyfriend kiss. Not a blowing off steam thing, or any other excuse the two of you have used to feel each other. A genuine, I’m your boyfriend and I love you sort of kiss, foreheads pressed together, noses touching, the whole nine yards. It’s the kind of kiss that’s meant to say something. Every inch of what he’s trying to tell you echoes through your body in one ringing smash, like you’re a big cymbal he’s taken a mallet to. 

He slips off your lips and hovers, bracing himself for impact. You suck in a rattling breath.

…Then you press up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss of your own, just pressing your lips against his, unmoving. It’s undemanding; an answer. You try to find the words to describe the shift that’s occurred between you, and end up feeling stuttery and shivery and fucking elated. Romantic. It’s fucking romantic.

“Sammy,” you sob out.

“Shhh. C’mere,” Sam whispers, his voice throaty and whiskey smooth. “Lemme make it better.”

He tries to walk you straight back out of the bathroom and towards the bed, he really does, but you stop Sam every other step to overwhelm him with obsessed, affectionate kisses. God. His chapstick is all over your fucking mouth (along with your slick) and his hands are everywhere else, feeling instead of grabbing.

“You always do,” you breathe, and that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said to him in bed.

Sam gets this quiet, pleased smile on his face. No matter how naked and turned-on you are, you’ve always got a snappy reply ready, and you’re about to throw one at him—until you’re fucking obliterated. He smoothes his palms down your arms. Your wrists are scooped up again. With all the tenderness on the planet, Sam slides in close, kisses your throat, and places both of your hands firmly on his belt.

“Take it off,” he rasps.

This. This isn’t the first time he’s given you that order. But knowing, feeling that he’s playing this all out like it’s more than a fling to him… that Sam’s gonna fuck you like you’re someone special to him… sweet jesus, it makes you lightheaded.

“Bossy,” your murmur, grinning.

You’re downright feverish going in to kiss him next. Sam parts your lips with a slow, sinful swipe of his tongue, and there must be a drop of psychic still in him, because suddenly you’re flooded with visions of that filthy mouth between your legs. You can still feel the ghost of him there, keeping you open with his thumbs as the blunt tip of his tongue pushes you somewhere vast and sparkly and wonderful. This is going to be even better.

He sounds like he’s praying when he says, “I just like to watch you.”

Muscle memory serves. You work his clasp open without peeking down and let it hang in his belt loops, mostly because it lets his jeans sling low on his hips in the most enticing way. His belly twitches at even the slightest touch of your hands; always so responsive. Sam drops his forehead on your shoulder to watch you work, and you take the rare opportunity to kiss the top of his head. This is one of your favorite parts. When his button is undone and his zipper’s down, you’re free to smooth your hand under his waistband and take a big handful of him.

You reach in and—squeeze. Sam’s hand snaps up to clutch your arm. His nails dig in, and he rocks forward onto his tiptoes to really dig into your touch. “Yes.”

It’s the kind of soft, needy sound that makes you want to smother him with kisses and hug him until he suffocates. Instead, you cooly purr into his hair, “So sensitive, Sammy.”

A hoarse, sharp laugh snaps out of him, which dissolves into a shuddering groan. You tug at his jeans until they’re somewhere you don’t care about anymore, and forget about everything else entirely at the sight of his cock. All these years of sneaking around with him have conditioned you. Just seeing the pretty speckling of dark hair that leads to it, then the real deal, hanging blood-hot and heavy between his legs, makes your tummy flip and your mouth water. One of a million embarrassing Sam-reactions you’ll have to bring to your grave.

You take his cock in your hand, trying to swallow back the slutty amount of saliva in your mouth. Sam whimpers. A real, desperate sound, with his nails stinging down your arms and everything.

“Know you wanted to slow down,” you struggle between open-mouthed pants, “b-but—can’t—don’t wanna wait—”

Sam physically curls towards you, his hips seizing into your hand and his arms hooking around your shoulders. You’re dragged in for a sloppy kiss so deep you swear it melds your souls together. Sam is just as affected, rumbling like a racecar in approval.

“Then don’t.” He begs.

If this was any other night, Sam would just take. You’d be face down and drilled halfway through the mattress by now, no preamble, all business. He got off and you got off and everyone was happy that way. Sam would want the room dark and you would hide your face in the bedding, the two of you eager to touch and experience but terrified of breaking the illusion. He’s so generous that you suppose he’s got to have at least one place in life where he’s selfish, and you’re happy to be his outlet for it, but.

You’ve never seen him take this way before.

He looks at you and he never really stops, transfixed. You don’t doubt you could walk in a circle around him and Sam’s eyes would follow you the whole way, his gaze oozing with longing and something else—resolution? Faith? You push him onto the bed, and he drops down as if hobbling into a pew for the first time, unsure how to clasp his hands in prayer because it’s only ever been something done in his head before.

You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“God,” Sam utters, spellbound. 

You’re blushing so hard that you forget to be sexy as you crawl into his lap, but Sam doesn’t care, still giving you those big slow doe blinks to express his love. It’s so different from the Sam you know (yet also so deeply, deeply him) that you forget what it means to be sexy entirely. He coaxes you closer to plant tender kisses under your chin, and the plan to seductively peel off your sweater for him and flash him your tits blips out of existence.

You wait for the moment when Sam shreds the Stanford sweater off you. Instead, those wonderful fucking hands tease under the hem to squeeze your waist, and Sam croaks out between kisses, “Should wear this all the time. You’re beautiful in anything, but this… you’re… mmn.”

Your heart gives a pathetic flutter. You press mindless kisses against his mouth and rock your bare core down on his lap, because he’s never acted this way before and you don’t know how else to return the favor. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, Sammy.”

The only reaction you get from him is a single huff out of his nose, like it’s something he can’t commit a whole laugh to. Like none of that matters anymore, like it would never matter for Sam, because his body may be beautiful, but it hardly belongs to him anymore. God, you’re shitty at compliments.

You’re fucking wonderful, you suddenly want to tell him. A whole swarm of little truths and sweet nothings roars straight up to the surface of your mind, a whole sea of better things you could say to him, but then one of those perfect hands is slipping between your legs and Sam’s asking you in that perfect, tinted glass voice, “You still on the pill?”

“Yes, doctor,” you tease.

Another flood of sticky heat rushes between your legs, because that question is always a precursor to being pressed into and filled and stuffed end-to-end by Sam’s dick. The one barrier that doesn’t—didn’t exist between you.

“Good,” Sam sighs, relieved, grateful. He never turned down going raw in the past, but he’s downright starved for it right now. Closer closer closer, his whole body begs.

You’re tugged in by a big hand hooked around your back, and you fall right into Sam’s summer-warm, sweat-sticky chest, giggling. He loops both arms around your middle and teddy-bear squeezes even more laughter out of you. The only way to hold yourself up is by planting two hands on his shoulders… which turns into his cupping his neck… then caressing his face, because it’s impossible to be witness to that quiet boyish grin and not shower him in affection. There’s all these little freckles on him that you can only see up close. He feels good, mystical good, prophetic-chosen-one type good.

This is the moment. You can feel the blood in your body pounding between your legs, and Sam’s cock bumps not-so-innocently against your core as you kiss one another. Every shift of his hands sends your muscles clenching tight, bracing for impact, but Sam doesn’t push into you just yet.

Your confusion must be clear on your face, because he says, “Just let me feel you for a second.”

And, obviously, you’re not an idiot, so you let Sam feel you for as long as he pleases. For the next ten uninterrupted minutes, you makeout like lovesick teenagers, whimpering and sighing and swallowing every sound the other makes. You’d always pegged him as a romantic. But seeing it, feeling it, adds a whole new dimension to him you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.

By the time the pool of need in your gut has opened up into a blackhole, Sam has caressed or squeezed or kissed every part of you ten times over. He continues to be weird and obsessed with you. (So still in character, then). Sam even pinches the ends of your ears and smooths his thumbs over the bumps of your ankles, being sexy about it but also a little terrifying. He touches you like he’s never gonna see you again.

Around the time that Sam starts suckling marks into your neck and trying to tickle you under your arms, you giggle out, “O-Okay—okay! Enough—!”

“Enough what?” Sam cocks his head. His hand makes another dive for your belly, making you shriek and squirm with more giggles. You try to wriggle away to protect your tickling sides, but Sam’s too strong and you’re a little in love with him, so it’s easy for him to pull you flush against him and blow tingly-warm breaths beside your ear. He purrs, “You need it that badly?”

“Fucking yes! So quit torturing me,” you pant, and you’re pretty sure this grin is going to get stuck on your face.

Sam’s smile gets even bigger. “Only if you say please.”

Your attitude slips from your grip like water. Next time, you’ll play push and pull with him, but right now there needs to be a lot more pushing and pulling in a different context.

The words are out of your mouth in an instant. “Please, Sam.”

As reluctant as he is to stop teasing you, Sam’s a little in love, too. He leans back enough to fist his cock in one hand, and you can’t help how your breath hitches when Sam’s touch follows the curve of your ass to where you’re soaked and sensitive for him. Those thick, maddening fingers spread you open. The velvety tip of his cock finds your hole right away, and your legs nearly give out when Sam starts to swipe himself up and down your folds one dizzying stroke at a time. Back…. and forth. Up… and down. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Okay, fine…” He concedes, his eyes glittering with joy. “You’re just so cute when you act all tough.”

Maybe not all of your attitude is gone. You bark out a laugh, telling him, “I hate you.”

Sam presses down for the last time, then presses in. You don’t mean to look into his eyes when he fills you up, and that’s probably what does you in. Sam’s rosy face flutters and twists with pleasure, but he never stops looking at you, not even once, terrified to miss even a small moment. The long hitching moan that slips out of you makes his whole face darken with desire. You’re pulled onto him deeper and deeper and deeper until—click. Cue the angel choir.

Your fingers dig desperately into his hair. Sam curls into you in one slow pulling movement, a thread pulled taut, until his face is stuffed in your neck and his hands are mindlessly scrabbling down your back.

“God, I love you,” he moans.

Soon your pussy feels achy and hair-trigger-sensitive and beyond full, which could mean that you’re all the way on him. It’s impossible to tell, since the first full minute of having Sam’s dick inside you sends you straight to the moon every time, where everything falls in peaceful slow-motion and the whole world hums with cosmic, sparkling pressure. You shove your face into him and nuzzle in a daze, little ripples of electricity sparking up your spine.

…Wait.

“What?” You register, slow.

Sam is still clutching you for dear life, even if the moment’s slowed and you’re both comfortable. He hugs you full-bodied, nose in your neck, tilted forward, the kind of hug where he sways you side to side with joy. Sam sucks in a harsh breath. Can’t hold back anymore.

“I love you,” he gushes. The words burn out of him, declarative, overjoyed.

There’s so much you want to say to that. But then Sam digs his fingers into your ass and pulls you off his lap, only to gloriously sink you down the rest of the way, and. Fuck fuck fuck. His cock drags thick and hot against the pliant walls of your pussy. You couldn’t be any more full if you tried, clamping down on him with long, silky ripples of pressure that outline the shape of him inside you in obscene detail. It’s the kind of mind-blowing that’s beyond comprehension, beyond feeble human understanding. Your eyes squeeze shut and you whimper into his hair.

“God, I love you,” he chants again through grit teeth. “So much. So fucking much.”

You find his face with your hands and kiss him quiet, tasting the promise in his mouth. When you part and the two of you really start to move, you kiss him again, and again, whispering where only he can hear, “I-I love you too.”

It should scare you how easily the confession slips out. You should be terrified, because even if you live to see next week, or next month, or next year, even if Sam isn’t saying yes to Lucifer, those words are a death sentence. And yet.

“I-I miss you,” you choke out, “I need you.”

“Me too. So much,” Sam soothes, his voice tight and sharp with restraint. You know his instinct is to jackhammer up into you and never stop, but he puts in effort to resist, letting you both marinate in the wonderful, glistening, twitchy feeling of each other. His hands are rubbing your back and he is so fucking warm, turning the rain outside to steam.

He doesn’t bounce you on his dick. It’s more of a slow, cresting drag, waves stroking a beach. You don’t think you could handle much more than that, anyway—sometimes these positions make him feel big enough to pop you like a balloon. What you can’t fit on your own, your weight pushes you down onto anyway, turning your whole body into a big expanding bubble of pressure ready to burst at any moment. You clutch at his shoulders and just throb around him for a second.

“Nuh-uh,” Sam leans away, not letting you shove your face in him like you want. Instead, a big hand cups one side of your neck and keeps you in front of him. “Wanna see your face. Look at me. Look at me,” he insists, genuinely pleading.

When your eyes find his, that’s when he decides to snap up into you for real. You don’t even get a full look at him. The arm slung around your waist drags you up off your wobbling knees, then slams you down into a beautiful, endless white space popping with color.

“Sammy!” You choke.

That’s the magic word. You’re instantly thrust up into four more lightning-fast times, one-two-three-four, and hitch out four squeaky gasps to match. Sam’s eyes bore into yours with every beat, blazing with liquid love. For a second you wonder if you’ve fallen back into your rough routine again. But then words and thoughts melt out of your brain altogether, because Sam draws you into the tenderest, sweetest kiss human beings are capable of, fucking into you deep and smooth with that deeper, smoother voice, “Keep saying that.”

Sammy Sammy Sammy, you rattle out under your breath. Sam hisses out your name the exact same way.

You do your best to help him out a little, bobbing up and down in his lap, but’s a drop of water in the ocean for him. All Sam cares about is seeing your reaction. He soaks up everything you do like a sponge, moaning when you moan, gritting his teeth when you bite your lip, grinding up as you stir down. The weight of his eyes on you is so heavy that your skin stings in its wake. Again, it’s Sam’s brand of freak-sweetness that makes you get stupid notions in your head about wedding rings and anniversary presents. But that’s—

…something he knows about. Something he just said to you five minutes ago. Above the haze of bouncing, rhythmic pleasure, you’re flooded with relief. You can tell him! Holy fuck, you can tell him!

“I love you,” you gasp out again, and just saying it feels like it could save the world. “O-oh, god, Sam—”

The breath you have left is stolen from you by another fierce kiss from him, so passionate it lets you taste the bassy, happy hum that rumbles in Sam’s throat. You’re devoured by feverish kisses for a full minute, then Sam pops off you to sob, “So much—so fucking much, yes.”

He slips a hand between the two of you to thumb your clit, stirring in and never once stopping. Every so often he’ll brush up against where you’re hot and filled to the hilt with him, your bodies sliding together with slick, filthy noises that are so—so fucking much that your thighs cramp up, protesting the constant pistoning. But the pleasure is easily worth the burn. Your core booms with long echoes of pleasure that shudder through the trembling spiderwebs that make up your nerves. You make a move to lean back on your hands and switch up the angle, (since you’re a damn good cowgirl, thank you very much), but Sam refuses to stop kissing you. He physically pulls you back in with a hand fished around your neck and kisses you breathless, determined to pound you to your climax one thorough snap of his hips at a time.

“So beautiful,” Sam gushes. His voice is hoarse and thready, like he’s moments away from bursting into tears of pure desire.

You smooth your hands down his flushed cheeks, telling him between huffy moans, “It’s okay, s’ okay, Sammy… so pretty… love you so much…”

You feel him pull the Stanford sweater up over your ass and out of his way, exposing more, more, more of your bare skin for him to touch. Sam palms the slope of your back and your belly in a daze, but that’s still not enough—he’ll never be satisfied with how little of you he’s had. He wants more. He wants forever. You embrace each other to the fullest, cheeks smushed together, chests flush, his parted lips claiming your throat, making you his—but. Sam’s breath ratchets up. Not enough not enough not enough—

In one ragged motion, Sam rolls you both over, tossing you back-first onto the bedding and smothering you with his weight.

A squeal of delight jumps out of you. “Hey!”

If Sam wasn’t all over you before, then he literally is now, dropping onto his elbows so he can cup your face in both hands and surround you completely. “Sorry,” he croaks, “need you. Need to fill you up.”

You whisper against his lips, “Then fill me up already.”

His thumbs press into your cheeks a little. Sam’s breath fans across your face, throttled by the lump in his throat.

“Tell me you love me again.”

Um. You don’t exactly have the sexy heat of the moment to hide behind this time, but you still want to say it for him. His eyes swim with something unreadable. Desire and love, enough love to put a lump in your throat too, but a third thing also. It worries you.

You bring your hands up to stroke his wrists, and give a bit too much of your soul to him when you promise, “...I love you, Sam.”

The words hit him like a bullet. Sam shudders from head to toe, unable to reign himself in any longer, and plants a long, surging kiss on your mouth that makes your belly flash with nuclear levels of lust. He squirms his hands underneath your body so he can cradle you against him—genuinely cradling, one palm cupping the back of your neck—and then burrows into you face-first, groaning your name as his cock nestles itself as deep as it can go.

With all of his weight on top of you, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. You caress and kiss and dig your nails into him, and somewhere along the way you’re given a dose of whatever has made him fucking insane for you right now. It fogs your head and turns your reason to ash, so when Sam returns to ruining you for any other man, you whimper, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, baby,” Sam hiccups out, and something strange hangs in his voice.

You would ask him what’s wrong, but the shuddering, flimsy scraps left of your brain are busy being blasted all over by white-hot pleasure. Everything scorches. Sam’s bare skin and his breath and his hands feel fucking molten, melting you down like hot glass. You’re pinned down in every possible way, and it pushes the sinking, gorgeous pressure inside you all over your body, like it’s not just Sam’s cock filling you up, but him, just him, the source of all good in the world. Holy fucking fuck. His hips glide back and then thud back into you again and again and again. You get why it’s called making love, now. You can taste your love for him in the back of your throat, feel it sitting in a sticky film on your skin. It hangs like humidity in the air of your apartment. And jesus christ, it bleeds from Sam, glowing off him like fucking radiation.

When you’re shamelessly wailing gut-deep in ecstasy, Sam peels himself off you. He forces himself to sit up. His chest putters up and down with desperate little breaths, and a gloriously big hand scoops under your thigh and welds it against your chest. Whatever he sees from this new angle—probably your wet, abused pussy stretched tight around the full base of his cock—makes Sam gape, utterly transfixed. You watch as his mouth falls open, and then those dark, soul-swallowing eyes crawl up your body to meet yours.

“Keep lookin’ at me,” Sam rasps.

Even if he doesn’t sway your opinion with a few dizzying, stomach-deep drags of his cock, (which he does), you’re convinced. You lock eyes with him—and then suddenly feel stupid for not watching him the whole time. A long curl of hair hangs in his eyes and sways as he fucks into you. His expression flutters with these sinful little giveaways, exposing just how starved he is for you, how in love. Maybe if you’d looked back sometime in the past five years, that’s what you would’ve seen: how much this has always meant to him. He searches your face for the same pleasure, obsessed with his effect on you. 

“Fuck,” you shudder out. “C-could cum just watchin’ you, Sammy.”

“That’s right,” he hisses, and you’ve never heard him sound so damn happy. “Cum for me. Please. Look so pretty when you do.”

Usually, when he makes you cum, it’s the roughest part of the whole act. He’d get both your wrists pretzeled behind your back and pinned viciously in one of his hands, and that’s when you’d know the big finish was coming. His pace would go from bouncing to bruising. But this Sam, your Sam, would stop time if he could, so he slows down even further, winding you closer and closer to the top of the mountain with little figure-eights of his hips. He gazes down at you the same way you’re sure you must gaze up at him. Beautiful, he murmurs under his breath.

You utter another, tight, almost-sob of, “love you so much, Sammy,” and his dick twitches wildly shoved in you to the hilt.

“Ohh—shit,” he chokes out, and his other hand snaps desperately towards yours on the bed. They find each other easily, and you squeeze his hand with everything you’ve got, infusing in him all the love he’s infused in you.

The slow, mounting tsunami of perfection you’ve been moving towards finally overcomes you, and in one long gorgeous slippery rush you cum for Sam. And because your life is a movie—he cums for you too. He rocks faster and falls forward to kiss you, your faces pressed together, your mouths slotting against each other, your pussy squeezing down on him in golden rippling strokes. Sam hisses your name out between his teeth as he cums. You’re lanced straight through by a whole fucking universe of fluttering, flickering pleasure. To be honest, you’re a little pissed about it—because it’s the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, and it’s all because Sam raggedly chants those words to you again and again, laying sloppy, obsessive, head-over-heel kisses all over your face. Love you love you so much baby you feel so good squeezin’ down on me.

You could’ve had this ages ago. How much more time could you have had with him, if you had just stopped being stupid?

Sam’s crazed, sobbing, hitching I love yous somehow become, in true Sam fashion, a low spiral of thank yous. He lays there and clutches you until there’s a Sam-shaped imprint in your body. You’re pretty sure he would stay inside you all night if he could, but you coax him into some cuddling instead, since you both are in desperate need. It’s. It’s new, but it feels cleansing in the holy way.

What feels like hours later, your brain dimly connects to the rest of your body. You’re halfway through detangling Sam’s hair with your fingers as he hides face-first in your chest, pretending he’s not embarrassed that he cried. At least, that’s what you assume. The Winchester mind is a mysterious one, and as much as you would hope to know what Sam’s thinking, the slow hand drawing circles on your hip tells you nothing. Is he shy that he got emotional? That seems silly, since you both sobbed into each other earlier. Is he embarrassed about everything he confessed? Does he regret it?

Just when your train of thought really starts to take the curves of your spiral hard, Sam tiredly croaks into your neck, “I meant what I said, y’know.”

He draws in a lungful of your perfume through his nose, soaking up as much of you as he can possibly get. His hands smooth over your body, innocent and loving, caressing you, memorizing you, begging silently for forgiveness. 

Sam is a dead-silent crier. But you hear him sniffle as he gushes, “God, I love you.”

Maybe if you hadn’t been so tired, you would’ve picked up on it. Or maybe you’d heard it in his voice, seen it, something, and ignored it, hoping it was something else. Everything he felt, he put into a teeny, unmarked box that he’d bury god knows where, far from where anybody could be hurt by it. Sam didn’t—he wouldn’t say that to you. Not unless it was the last time he ever could. He would feel it, but it’d go right into that box where it couldn’t hurt you. You should’ve known.

Lie to me, you’d begged him. 

…And Sam had.

_

The dull realization that you are awake sets in around noon. Noon as in after-noon, well past when you’re normally up and at em’. When you wonder why the hell you slept in so late, you remember last night’s rain, thrashing against the windows all night, and Sam, his face haloed by lamplight and bleeding with quiet resolution.

Sam. Alive, and not going to say yes.

He’d been the one to keep you up all night. With his mouth and his hands, yes, but then afterward he’d been hellbent on talking. Just… talking. You’d been sluggish and cozy and sated after having sex, but no matter how close you came to falling asleep, Sam wouldn’t let it happen. For two straight hours he asked you every question he could come up with to keep you up with him.

Do you remember when we met? Cause’ I do. Do you remember what I said to you? Do you remember what you thought about me? I remember thinking how similar we were, y’know, how much we’d get along. You were so pretty… my whole face went red every time you looked at me. Do you remember…?

Being cuddled, kissed, and protected by the man you love really tempts a girl to doze off, too, so this was not an easy battle. But Sam persisted. He studied your face intently, uttering I love yous even when sleep started to pull you under. Hearing any Winchester drop those words on you still blew your fucking mind, to be honest. Sam especially. But it was romantic as it was worrying, so you’d shut him up with a kiss goodnight and echoed it back to him. Love you, Sammy. It was probably just an anxiety thing, you assumed—Sam, for some fucking reason, was a pretty insecure guy, so you imagined that was his way of making sure you wanted all of this. He seemed… scared. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

The apocalypse was still on. Maybe the world would end tomorrow, or maybe you’d get lucky and live a whole lifetime with Sam. Regardless, he’s never saying yes to Lucifer, and that alone means that there’s still hope for the future. You’re going to spend every second of it making Sam feel wanted.

Sitting up in bed, you scrubbed at your sleepy face with the heel of your hand and stared around the room. Sam was physically incapable of staying asleep after five in the morning, so the familiar evidence of his military-efficient morning routine was all over the place. You smiled to yourself. He’d picked up after the two of you, and had tucked another blanket over you in your sleep. Stupid chivalrous dumbass.

To think, you’d been terrified you’d never see him again just last night.

You push out of bed, only to almost buckle onto the carpet rag-doll style. Even being torturously gentle, that man manages to make you sore. With a very, very happy groan, you hop (and wince) into some clean underwear, then traipse out into your kitchen to show that dork who’s boss.

“Dammit, Samuel, you’re not my maid—” you start to say, but of course, this is Sam, who wouldn’t miss a morning run for anything. Right. That explains your empty kitchen.

…But it’s afternoon. Sam would be back by now. Your gut prickles with a bad feeling, and you superstitiously sweep your apartment, looking for him. His clothes from last night are still sitting in your hamper, his shirt folded neatly in your dresser and his watch on your nightstand. A spike of nausea rolls through you seeing that his jacket is gone—and his boots. But his duffle—it’s. It’s still on your kitchen table. It looks a little smaller than usual, but his books and his laptop are still inside. He probably just ran out to run some silly errand for you, determined to make up for worrying you so much. Yeah.

You force your hunter’s paranoia down to a simmer, padding over to your breakfast table. There’s a big ol’ note smack dab in the center of it, perched on his half-open duffle bag, and you start to play with one of the bracelets Sam left behind as you pick it up.

You cross your fingers, smiling ear-to-ear. “C’mon. All bets on breakfast. Please be getting me breakfast, please be getting me breakfast—”

…That’s not what the note says.

You read it.

Then you read it again, and the hammer falls, crushing the breath out of you and doubling you over the kitchen table. You read the note for the third time, needing to be sure, and the thin sliver of hope you had—maybe you’d just read it wrong, m-maybe he was fine—turns to ash. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

You’re fighting back a surge of ugly, choking tears in an instant. He’s… Sam… he…

Your whole apartment lingers with the heat and goodness of him, like he’d been here just minutes ago. Just seconds. Even your clothes still smell like Sam. Just inhaling it tears chunks out of your reason, like—like you’d just missed him. Clawing around for something to do, you pace in a daze between your bedroom and the front door, desperate to recreate the moment you realized he was gone. You’re still just in the Stanford sweater and your underwear, but you don’t give a single shit and go careening out into the hall, stalking up and down your floor for him—because, b-because Sam wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do that to you—he would tell you first, he would never leave you in the dark like this—

…But you know Sam. And if it meant fixing his mistakes, saving you, saving everyone… Then he’d say yes in a heartbeat.

“These belong to you. You deserve a world to live in. I’m sorry - Sam.”

- tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1@lacilou@cevans-winchester @leigh70@ seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoon @poeticsorcery @deansapplepie @rennydenny @babydollfoster @badlandsbrunette @hallecarey1

#uncouthspn #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #user uncouth #sam winchester x reader

[healmydesires]

forever in your eyes (j.m)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to. You’ve never been in love, always thought that falling in love wasn’t meant for you. Until one day, you meet a certain grumpy man.

genre: fluff + romance + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 15k+

tags/warnings: age gap (reader is 27, joel is in his early 50’s), takes place post s1, very minimal use of y/n, soft!joel tbh, kinda shy!reader… at least with joel, flirty joel, joel deserves to be loved, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than joel, mutual pining, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), joel has high key an oral fixation, kinda pleasure!dom?, multiple orgasms, creampie, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, joel is huge… literally packing oof, lots of pet names (darlin, sweetheart, angel, baby girl, etc.), reader has a sister (named emilie, so if that’s your name I’m so sorry 😭😭😭 you can imagine another name then 🥺. I didn’t want it to be y/s/n because that would be so annoying to write imo).

a/n: this is my first joel fic. this is kinda more soft tbh… might be a bit oc? I don’t know but I love it. It’s pretty self indulgent !!! I’ve always loved writing but I got a lot discouraged in the past, giving up on it. I was inspired to start writing again by some of my favourite writers @joelmama and @joelscruff. also english is like my third language so please be nice/gentle with me. do not give me unsolicited advice pls <3 anyways! I hope you enjoy it 🥺

please don’t forget to interact, reblog or let me know if you read/loved it! <3 thank you ily 🥺

AO3 ● playlist

You knew you had feelings for Joel Miller. You’ve always liked and cared for him, even when you first met.

You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.

It was such a warm and beautiful day, like a year and a half ago. The sun was beaming down on you as you were reading a book that you found on one of your trips outside Jackson — on your front porch of your house. The blowing mid-summer wind was hitting your face, cooling, as if to apologise for the almost unbearable heat that Jackson was currently subjected to. The soft breeze was caressing your skin and hair making the heat a lot more bearable as you enjoyed the day.

You were so immersed in your book that you didn’t hear the people approaching you until there was a shadow descending over the pages of your book. Someone was standing in front of you, their body blocking the sun.

“Yes?” You said with a smile without looking up from your book.

“I would like to introduce you to some people.”

The voice belonged to Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Your eyes widened at that, and you looked up from your book and saw that there were two other people behind Tommy looking down at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you cleared your throat, giving them a sheepish smile before standing from your lounger, shielding your eyes from the sun to get a better look at the strangers in front of you.

A teenager gave you a polite smile as she introduced herself. As you gave her your name in return you finally noticed the man next to her, gave you a curt nod when you locked eyes with him. He had a broad build, dark eyes and brown peppered hair. You assumed he was around the age of fifty and you couldn’t help but find him incredibly handsome.

“This is Ellie and my brother,” Tommy smiled as he gestured to both people next to him. “They’re your new neighbours.”

You knew Tommy had an older brother but you didn't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone less handsome. As you continued to take him in you realised you were staring. You felt your body becoming more warm as you felt him stare back at you.

“How’s it going? I’m Y/N.” You gave him a small smile as you stepped forward to extend a hand out to the man.

"Hello," he repeated your name with a deep southern accent, which did nothing to calm your racing heart. You don’t think you’ve ever heard a voice that attractive in your entire life and it made heat flood to your cheeks. His hard expression melted into a more soft one as he took your hand in his. "I’m Joel, how’s your bench going?”

Your eyes widened at his words, “My bench? How did you—”

“We saw you through the living room window earlier this morning or more like Joel did.” Ellie, the teenager said with a huge grin on her face.

“Ellie.” He warned under his breath. His ears turned red and the two of them began to argue in hushed whispers, but your mind was elsewhere as panic began to set in.

Oh my god. He noticed me?

You grew embarrassed as you realised that he saw you struggle to fix that old bench on your porch. You’re painfully aware of how clumsy you are and that you’re not handy at all but you don’t like to ask other people for help. It was not because of your pride or any of that sort, you’d hate to burden someone else with your issues, so you mostly keep trying to fix things yourself.

"Oh yeah..." You said, looking back towards the bench that has been the bane of your existence these past few days. Your words effectively pulled Joel and Ellie out of their current argument. "It's a bit broken and needs some fixing."

Joel just looked at you for a moment before speaking up again. “You know, if you want, I could come check it out?”

You felt your cheeks heat up again at his offer and you glanced over at Tommy. “Uhm…”

“We both used to be contractors back in the day, so if you ever need anything repaired or something built, we are your people. Well… Joel specifically.” Tommy laughed.

“Oh, that’s cool. I think I’m good for now though, I don’t need any help but thanks for offering.” You declined politely with a small smile. You knew you could use their or his help with repairing the bench, but you didn’t want to burden anyone. And the older brother was already making you feel flustered, you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself when you just met.

“Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” He gave you a small but genuine smile before the three of them walked away from you.

As they walked away, you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding. The hammering of your heart only registering as the distance grew between you. You felt a bit of disappointment once they were gone, a sense of longing setting in your heart as you thought about the tall and older man that you know you’ll grow to care for.

—

“God damn it. Work with me please.” You grumbled as you tried to fix one of the loose wooden planks of the bench. Sweat was dripping down your forehead as you concentrated on your task at hand. You were on the floor, crouched underneath the bench you were so desperately trying to repair. You’ve been trying to put it off for a couple of weeks now but you knew you couldn’t keep doing that. You knew you should ask someone for help but you didn’t want to give up just yet. Curse words wouldn’t stop leaving your mouth as you struggled. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t take you as a girl that could curse like a sailor.” A low and deep but still soft voice resounds behind you.

“Ah shit!” you gasped as you heard the voice behind you. You’d smacked your head on the edge of the bench when you’d startled at the sudden intrusion. You recognised that voice. Joel Miller. The man that’s been consuming your thoughts for weeks now. You hissed as you rubbed at the already sore spot and landed on your butt as you looked up at him.

The bemused expression morphed into one of concern as he crouched down to your level. “Are you okay?” He replaced your hand with his own, making sure there was no visible injury.

His touch made your body turn hot as he continued to study you.

“Yeah I-I’m fine. Although, I do think it will be a nice bump later.” You chuckled. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, it’s not good for my heart.”

“And your head,” he said as a grin replaced the one of concern. You were glad to be sitting because that smile has been making you weak in the knees lately. Ever since you’ve been introduced you’ve been talking and hanging out here and there, finding out that the man can smile sometimes. You’re not entirely sure why he felt so at ease around you but you were truly grateful that he was spending time with you. (It might be for the fact that Ellie grew fond of you and loved to ask you a million questions whenever she was around.) He had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen and it lit up his whole face, you truly wish he would smile more. Subconsciously you started biting your lip as you admired him.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He questioned with a chuckle as he looked at the state of the bench next to you.

Your face grew warm as you moved to focus your gaze on your hands. “I’m fine.” You whisper softly as you continue to look at your hands in your lap.

You heard him sigh before he took your chin gently in his hand to tilt your head back, making you look into his eyes.

“You know it’s okay to ask for help sometimes?” He said as he studied you intently. It was hard to maintain his eye contact, your face heating up more under his intense gaze and because of the close proximity of both of your faces.

His brown eyes stared into yours and you couldn’t help but find them the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever looked at. Your eyes flitted all over his face, not being able to stay in one place. You couldn’t get over how handsome he was. His head tilted to the side and he gave you a questionable look. You felt embarrassed as you realised you hadn’t replied to him yet.

“Sorry,” you bit your lip nervously as warmth spread even more to your cheeks. Your eyes moved away from his face to a spot behind him as you stared into the distance. “I just don’t want to burden you.” Your voice sounded so small and squeaky that you cringed internally. Embarrassed, you quickly drop your gaze to your lap.

“Oh, Darlin’,” he said gently, his expression turning more soft. “Sweetheart, you could never be a burden.”

“I’m sorry,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep yourself from getting emotional. “I didn’t mean to… I just— I just always feel like it’s best I do everything myself all the time because I don’t want to annoy anyone with my problems.”

You’ve always been someone to wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re a very sensitive person and very in tune with your emotions most of the time. People saw you as a very caring and helpful person but when it came to your own things you mostly tended to yourself. You’re aware that most people aren’t like you, at least not anymore ever since the outbreak happened, but you didn’t care. There’s strength in sensitivity.

“You could never annoy me,” Joel frowned. “especially not when it comes to you struggling to do something on your own.”

You weren’t used to people caring for you the way you cared for others. So when Joel reassured you or took the time to hang out with you, you couldn’t help but feel appreciated.

His reassuring words gradually eased your anxiety. You let out a long sigh before looking up at him again. “O-okay, I-I think… I might need your help.” You stutter, hoping he didn’t catch it but he smiled at you warmly instead.

Shit, he’s so pretty. Come on, forget it. He could never have feelings for you.

“Good. Because I’d love to help.” He winked at you with a crooked smile.

Warmth flooded your body as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but feel flustered around him. You’re certain that your heart is running two hundred miles per hour, because it felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

It’s just a silly crush. You told yourself.

—

Turns out, Joel Miller, your hot new neighbour, could be very handy.

He was able to fix the bench you've been fighting with for weeks in less than an hour. You were truly impressed.

As he brought back the supplies he used to repair the bench back inside to your supply closet, you couldn’t help but want him to stay a little longer. Besides, you wanted to thank him for being so helpful. You’re relieved and so grateful that the ‘demon bench’, as you had called it, was now fixed

“Thank you for helping me out, Joel. It means a lot to me.” You said as you smiled up at him as you both walked towards your front door.

“Oh darlin’ it’s no problem. I loved helping you.” He said with a grin. He moved closer, making your breath hitch which made him smile even more. “You can ask me anything. Whenever you need.” He winked and you felt your insides melt at his words and his actions.

“I-I want to be able to thank you. Give something in return for your help.” You smiled shyly at him.

“You don’t have to do anything for me sweet—”

“Please, let me make you dinner. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.” You cut him off as you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Ellie is welcome too!” You added nervously when he took a bit longer to reply.

He snorts softly at your words before clearing his throat. “Ellie isn't in tonight,” he says as he avoids your gaze for a few seconds “she’s at this girl’s place she hangs out with a lot. So it’s just me.”

“Oh that’s okay! I’m sure she can join us next time.” You flashed him a bright smile. “But, I’d love to make dinner for you tonight… if that’s okay?” You asked with pleading eyes.

He chuckled fondly at your expression as he shook his head with amusement. “Of course. I’d love that.”

You felt like you were going to burst out of excitement. Internally you’re screaming, kicking with your legs like a schoolgirl thinking about her crush. You really loved spending time with the man.

Joel followed you back inside as you quickly disappeared down the hall and into the dining room that’s connected to your kitchen. You saw him admire the walls of your dining room from your peripheral view as you’re rummaging in one of the cupboards of your kitchen for a cutting board. Most of the paintings were either more abstract gradient paintings or heavily inspired by the Impressionism art movement.

“You have lots of paintings. They are very pretty.”

“Thank you. Some of them are made by me or my sister.” You smiled genuinely as you made your way back to him.

“Really?” He asked curiously.

Your smile turned timid as you looked up at him, Joel's inquisitive look making you even more shy.

“Yeah… we both love art. Especially making our own sometimes.” You cleared your throat with another bashful smile, before looking down at your shoes.

“Is your sister…?”

“Is she alive? Yes” you finished his question. “She lives here in Jackson with her boyfriend actually.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. I’m truly grateful to have her in my life.” You told him. “She’s my best friend.”

“That’s beautiful” he nods at you as a small smile graces his features. You can’t help but feel yourself get more warm at his soft expressions. He’s so beautiful. “How did you two find your way to Jackson?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but, originally my sister and I weren't from here… the USA I mean.” You told him.

Joel’s eyes widened at your words. You giggled at his expression.

“We are originally from Europe, I was still very young when the outbreak happened. I was around? Seven years old. We were in San Francisco when it happened and my sister and I haven’t really moved from that place for a long time ever since everything went down.” You said as you walked back to the kitchen.

“Christ. That’s very young.” He said, he looked shocked as you told him as much as you wanted him to know.

“Yeah but Emilie was four when it happened.” You said as you bit your lip.

“It must be hard being trapped in a foreign country. Especially when you’re a child.”

“Yeah… My parents eventually died when I turned eighteen. So it was just Emilie and I for a long time. One day a couple of years ago she went outside the San Francisco QZ and I hadn’t heard from her for a long while. I just… I had to look for her, she’s my sister, she means everything to me. I would literally travel through this whole country just to find her. I always felt like I needed to protect her. I’ve always been very overprotective of her, just like I know she is with me.” You chuckled as you shook your head with amusement at your previous words.

“Overprotective huh?” He said as he flashed you a grin as he came to lean against a wall close to you.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I am the big sister but sometimes it does feel like she’s more overprotective than I am.”

“Your sister seems very nice. I do understand her being overprotective though.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you.

“Oh really?” You bit your lip as you continued to prepare everything for dinner.

“Yeah, I mean you’re a precious little thing so I do understand her overprotectiveness.” He muttered.

Heat rose up in your face at his words. You couldn’t look up at him, feeling too flustered to look him in the eye. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest as you kept repeating his words in your head. He thought you were precious.

Was that flirting? No. He would never flirt with you.

“Y-you think so?” You question shyly, still not meeting his gaze.

“Uhuhm” He hummed softly, “I don’t only think that, it is so. You’re very precious.”

“O-oh.” You were at loss for words.

Joel chuckled, probably because of your flustered state, before he noticed you struggled with the ingredients. “Let me help you sweetheart.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said. But as most people knew, Joel was a stubborn man.

“Darlin,” he looked at you pointedly, letting you know that you wouldn’t be able to stop him from giving you a hand.

“I’m making dinner for you, to thank you. You shouldn’t be helping me.” You huffed as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You’re aware you probably look like a child but you can’t help it. Dinner was supposed to be made by you, and only you.

“Oh angel, being in your presence is rewarding enough for me.” He says as he leans closer to your ear.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words. The sound of his deep voice close to your ear, and the feeling of his breath against your skin, made you fight the urge to shiver.

Joel smiled playfully, eyes looked down and locked with yours for a couple of seconds. The close proximity made your skin set on fire. He could lean down a bit more and then his lips would be on yours. You slowly pulled back, clearing your throat while you did.

“A-a-anyways.” You stuttered. You hated stuttering, you never really stuttered but somehow this man could turn you into a flustered, stuttering mess. His smile widened at your state which made you want to run and hide. You decided to change the subject. “I had to go through some states to find her and eventually I found her. Then we travelled together through Wyoming and then some people from Jackson surrounded us and that’s how we got here. That was almost a year ago.”

“So… You are pretty new here?”

“Yep.” You said as you smiled at him.

It was silent for a moment as both of you were preparing everything for dinner. Until your eyes widened at the realisation that you hadn’t offered him anything to drink yet.

“Oh shit, sorry. I can’t believe that I haven’t offered you something to drink yet.” You said as you abandoned your current task, running towards another supply closet, looking for something good for the both of you. “Give me a second.”

You could hear Joel chuckle, knowing he was probably looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You were looking for a specific bottle of red wine, your favourite, the ones you always keep for special occasions. Once you found it you couldn’t help but squeal excitedly. “Aha! Here it is!” You smiled triumphantly as you held it in your hands.

You were grinning widely as you came back into the kitchen. “I’ve got some red wine, I hope that’s okay.” You said as you placed down the bottle on the kitchen counter.

“More than okay.” Joel smiled.

You beamed up at him and opened one of the cabinets, you stood on the tip of your toes as you struggled to reach for some wine glasses.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself. “Why did I put those glasses so high and so far in the back?”

“Let me,” he chuckled softly as he stepped behind you, his body pressing softly against yours. Your breath hitched at the action and warmth spread all over your body. You mentally cursed yourself as you felt a heat pool between your legs. Different kinds of scenarios started going through your head as you felt his body pressed against yours. You wished his arms were wrapped around you as he stood behind you. But one of his arms extended over yours as he reached for two glasses easily. “Here they are.” He whispered as he leant down to whisper close to your ear.

You truly felt as if you caught a fever. He’s so close and so big. As his chest brushed against your back you felt as if your brain short circuited for a second. He was so broad and tall while you were so much smaller than him, he could quite literally swallow you whole with his frame.

You felt his body slowly retreat from yours, giving you the possibility to collect your thoughts again.

“Show off,” you grumbled teasingly, warmth still filling your chest and face.

Joel snorted, shaking his head amused. “You’re just tiny.”

You gasped dramatically, turned around and feigned offence at his words. “Am not!”

“Sure you aren’t.” He teased, a grin forming on his face.

You giggled at that, “you’re just awfully tall.”

“Right.” He nodded along to your words, tried to look as serious as he could, he tried to stifle a grin and you could see right through him.

“I am right.” You pouted.

“So am I.” He retorted playfully, a loud laugh left his lips as you continued to pout, before he took a step closer to you.

Your cheeks warmed, but you tried to hide your embarrassment by crossing your arms and sticking your chin up in the air. Huffing you turned around, “get back to work Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am” he said in mock seriousness as he went back to making dinner with you.

“You’re so silly,” you giggled as you teasingly bumped your shoulder against his arm. You went to open the bottle of wine before pouring some of the liquid in both glasses. Once the glasses were filled you held a glass out to him.

“Only with you darlin’,” he gave you a wink before he took the glass from your hand. Flushed, you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped in your chest when his fingers brushed against yours.

This man is going to be the death of me.

—

Dinner was very nice. There was lots of banter, lots of words exchanged from Joel that felt awfully like flirting but still you tried to push those thoughts away. He wouldn’t flirt with you. You’re pretty certain of it. The tension sometimes was killing you though. You think it was sexual tension but then again that would be impossible because he wasn’t flirting with you.

But you also noticed that the more you hung out with Joel the more relaxed he was around you. You loved that for him. Underneath all that rough exterior he has so much depth to him. He’s very caring, protective, helpful, funny, and so intelligent. He’s so sweet to you too, you didn’t know why. But all you knew is that you care for him so much. You felt comfortable around him too, safe. You couldn’t help but associate him with warmth, safety. Home. He felt like home to you.

Empty plates were still on the table and for a while you were enjoying the comfortable silence between you two. Eventually you broke that silence.

“The wine is so good.” You whispered as you looked at your wine glass then brought your gaze softly to the man sitting across from you. He seemed like he was lost in his thoughts, staring off in the distance as he looked through the window outside towards your garden.

He brought his gaze back to you as he heard your voice, he cocked his head to the side. “Hmmm what did you say sweetheart?”

“It’s good right?” You ask as you motion with your head to the drink in your hand.

“You’re not wrong. It’s very good.” He nods with a soft smile.

“It’s my favourite,” you flashed him a grin before you took a generous sip of your wine, the liquid burning down your throat.

“Oh really?” He questioned with a curious smile.

“Yeah, I keep them for special occasions.” You said as you bit your lip, feeling bashful.

“Is that so?” Joel’s smile turned into a full smirk as he looked straight into your eyes. “I am assuming this is a special occasion then?”

You hummed your agreement, shrugging your shoulders with faux nonchalance as you continued to bite your lip. Warmth was overwhelming you. Not only because of the alcohol you consumed but that man always made you heat up.

“I’ll consider that as a compliment.” He said as he leaned back in his chair.

Excitement bubbled inside you. Feeling bold, you winked at him. “As you should.”

He was visibly surprised, Joel didn't expect you to finally flirt back. You giggled at his reaction, pleased to see that you could surprise him.

You stood up from your seat with a smile as you took the empty plates from the table, bringing them to the sink.

As you’re about to turn the faucet on you heard him stand up from his chair. He muttered your name, his voice coming out a lot deeper than usual. Fighting back a shiver you slowly turned around to look at him. Your eyes were wide with curiosity and your heart was pounding so hard you could barely hear over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. He looked at you, a desperate expression on his face.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice hoarse as his dark eyes continued to hold your gaze. For the first time of the night you couldn’t fight back the shiver from going down your spine. Heat flooded your body, your cheeks burning, the warmest you’ve ever felt them.

Joel must have noticed the way your body was reacting to his voice, as he dragged a low shuddering breath at the sight of you.

“Joel?” Your breath turned heavier as you waited for him to say or do something. Your wide pleading eyes stared into his hungry eyes. He continued to stand there just looking at you, his chest moved quicker as he breathed more heavily. Your heart pounded so fast and hard that you were worried that he could hear it from across the room.

Your eyebrows pulled together as you stared at him, your eyes shining with curiosity. You waited with bated breath for Joel to say what he was meant to tell you. He looked at you desperately before he moved from his spot, striding towards you but before he could reach you, someone barged through the door of your home with a loud bang.

“Hey! I knew I’d find you here.” Ellie yelled without looking at both of you. Once her eyes settled on both Joel and you her mouth fell open. “What’s happening?”

You were breathing heavily as you looked at Joel. Eventually you brought your gaze to the teen. “N-nothing, Ellie bean.” You stuttered out quickly, moving away from the kitchen towards the younger girl. “We just had dinner.”

Her eyes widened, “without me?”

Your face flushed with embarrassment before you turned around to look at Joel. “I thought she was at—”

“I’m assuming you told her I wasn’t home tonight, right?” Ellie cut you off, raising one of her eyebrows as she looked at him.

Wait what? Did he want to be alone with me?

Joel swallowed and then avoided both Ellie and your gazes. “Alright.” She snorted.

“I think it's better if we go home.” Joel finally spoke up, before walking towards Ellie. You feel yourself deflate at his words and you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

“O-okay.” You whispered, looking down as you entwined both of your hands nervously.

Ellie looked at you with sympathy before glaring up at Joel. “You’re so stupid.” She grumbled under her breath as she gave him a shove as she made her way to the front door.

“Ellie,” he warned her.

“You are.” She sneered.

Joel sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He dropped his hand before looking at you. “Thank you for dinner,” he said with a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you for fixing my bench on the front porch,” you gave him a faint smile. “I enjoyed spending time with you.” You said as you looked away timidly.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me.”

You bit your lip as you avoided his gaze. He said your name softly before he held your chin gently with one of his hands, tilting your head towards his face which made your eyes lock with his own.

“I always enjoy spending time with you.” Warmth rose to your face at his words. He gave you a warm smile before releasing your chin.

You walked with him towards your front door, leaning against it as you tried to say your goodbyes to each other.

“I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too.” You said as you bit your lip.

“Goodnight darlin’.” He said with a barely noticeable smile before he walked out your door.

Your eyes met Ellie’s waving at you from in front of your porch. You return the action with a small wave.

“Goodnight.” You whispered before you closed the door behind them. You rested your back against the door, exhaling a long breath you realised you didn’t know you were holding in.

—

You were in too deep.

As months went by, you were more and more aware of how strong your feelings were beginning to grow for Joel. So strong that they were starting to terrify you. Not because you didn’t want to have these feelings for him, no that was certainly not it. You just never experienced feelings this strong for someone before.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to.

You’ve never been touched intimately before, never had sex either. You knew how inexperienced you were but so far, you just hadn’t found someone to be worthy of your time.

You’ve never fallen in love with anyone before. And these new feelings were truly scaring you. For so long you were so certain that you’d never fall in love with someone. That falling in love wasn’t meant for you. That those feelings would never exist for you. The apocalypse hadn’t made things easier either so it wasn’t like falling in love was an option for a long time. But now that you’re relatively more safe, it was a possibility.

It was so much easier when it was just a crush, or an infatuation, despite the fact that you knew that crushes usually wouldn’t make your heart swell so big or your lungs feel so tight when you think of them or see them. But now, it’s a lot harder to pretend that it’s not more than that.

You always dreamed of the day you’d finally fall in love but now that those feelings were here they made you feel like you wanted to run and hide.

You’re not sure you’d be ready to confess those feelings to him any time soon. You were quite certain that they would be one sided, so you’d prefer to keep those to yourself. Because why would someone like him ever see you the way you see him, the way you feel for him. You were a lot younger than him, around twenty years or so. You’re twenty seven. So it seemed impossible for you that he could regard you in the same way you did.

So you decided to do just that, keep them a secret. And you were completely fine with that, with your feelings remaining completely unknown to anyone but yourself.

Or so you thought.

—

On a beautiful warm spring day, you decided you were going to indulge in your favourite hobby. Drawing.

You’ve always loved art, specifically, you loved sketching. If it wasn’t for the fact that the world ended, you’d like to think you would’ve studied art or tried to become an artist.

You were pretty good at it actually, not to sound too full of yourself. But with the way things were, your skills weren’t at their full potential. And besides you didn’t like to tell most people, keeping it a secret because you were always too shy or embarrassed to show people your talents. So you sketched as much as you could in your free time.

You loved to draw all sorts of things, nature, still life, animals and sometimes, people. But on top of your innocent drawings you also had a specific secret sketchbook that you only drew in when you were certain you were alone.

This sketchbook was dedicated entirely to indulging in your massive crush on Joel Miller. (Okay, crush is an understatement.) It was usually difficult to draw a specific person when they weren’t standing right in front of you, but you had seen his face so many times that it was nearly photographically imprinted in your mind. You would often summon his face up whenever you were alone. As many times as you could. Most of these were just his face, the sketchbook was definitely filled with several of him smiling. Some were just details of, for example, his hands or his eyes. Or even his nose or lips.

Everything about him made you feel warm inside. You would always be a flustered mess around him and it would even make you heat up when you’d draw him. Sometimes you’d have to take breaks from drawing him because you’d start getting too hot from thinking about him.

You often felt like you were doing something bad or wrong, like you were some sort of stalker when all you did was admire him.

It was a specific drawing you were currently working on, after checking and double-checking that you were truly alone. It was a beautiful day and you had the day off, so you figured what better way to spend it then by sitting on your front porch all day while enjoying the weather and sketching out what you’d seen the man do during your shared patrol the day before.

The drawing was him holding his gun as he concentrated on a target in front of him. You were so focused on sketching him as well as you could, wanting to capture every feature of him in the best way possible. You recalled his intense expression, the way his jaw clenched while he was so focused yesterday. His dark brown eyes and his handsome side profile—

“What are you drawing?”

You practically jumped and yelled as you heard the voice close to you. Hurriedly you tried to close the sketchbook as you addressed the person standing close to you. “Ellie! You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“I’m just done with school and thought I’d drop by. I kinda wanted to spend some time with you.” She smiled at you as she was leaning against the wall. The soft expression slowly turned into a more mischievous smile as she cocked her head to the side to study you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You swallowed nervously before giving her your best smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well… you’re looking pretty nervous or flustered. Embarrassed even.” She said as she smirked deviously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine.” You said as you tried to keep your composure.

You could never tell Ellie about the fact that you’re drawing Joel. He’s practically her father figure. Besides, you were quite certain it would make the whole situation awkward.

“You sure?” She asked as she leaned closer to you. “Could it have something to do with… what you’re drawing?”

“I— no. I mean no.”

“Hmmm.” Ellie hummed as she looked at you suspiciously.

Before you could react, Ellie snatched the sketchbook out of your hands at lightning speed.

Fuck. fuck. FUCK. Please no.

“Ellie—”

You sprang to your feet and quickly tried to grab the book back from her, but Ellie pulled it just out of reach at the last second with a huge teasing smirk on her face. Your face burned with shame.

“It’s nothing Ellie, please give it back!” You couldn’t hide the terrified desperation in your voice.

“You sure it’s nothing?” She said as she hid the sketchbook behind her back.

“Yes!” Apprehension fills your bones at her actions.

“Ah, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind letting me take a peek at what’s inside right?” Ellie grinned dangerously as she moved the book in front of her.

“Please give it back.” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you pleaded for her to give it back.

Shit. It’s over.

As she opened the book on a random page, a gasp left her mouth. “Oh my god?!”

“Ellie, I’m—”

“You’re drawing Joel?” She whispered with wide eyes as she flipped through the pages.

You’ve never felt your face warm up this hot in your entire life. “No?” You said nervously but it came out more as a question.

Ellie said your name softly as she looked at you with a huge smile. “You have a crush on Joel?”

“I— I-I’m— uhm I don’t know, I just—” you stuttered as you tried to retrieve the sketchbook. Ellie pulled back which made you want to scream internally.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Her face softened as she saw you look utterly terrified. “If anything, I’m very happy.”

“What?” You asked as you blinked your tears away.

“How could I be mad at you? I’ve always wanted Joel to be happy. He deserves that, even if he often doesn’t think he deserves that himself.” She smiled at you before looking back at some of the drawings inside the book. “They’re very beautiful by the way. I love drawing too.” She stepped closer to you as she went to put the book back in your hands. “Besides,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “he has a crush on you too.”

“Oh.”

Warmth flooded your body as you listened to her. You quickly felt overwhelmed by her words and everything that happened, you needed to sit down to process it better. You went to sit down with the book in your lap, looking down at it as you were at loss for words. It was very difficult for you to wrap your head around what she said. Joel having feelings for you? You couldn’t allow yourself to believe it. As you let her words sink in, she took a place next to you, placing a hand on your arm and giving it a small reassuring squeeze. Ellie gave you enough time to collect your thoughts and you were truly grateful for that.

You heaved out a long sigh. “I don’t have a crush.” You finally spoke up but not meeting her gaze just yet.

“What? But—”

“Saying it’s a crush is an understatement.” Your voice trembled as you finally looked at her. “I’ve never felt like this in my entire life, so it’s hard for me to deal with what I’m feeling.”

“Oh.” She said as her eyes widened. “You’re… In love?”

“I am pretty sure I am, yes.” You nodded with a small smile.

“Okay. Well he has feelings for—”

“Ellie, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have feelings for me.” You interrupted her.

“Oh my god,” she groaned as she hid her face in her hands, mumbling, “you’re both so oblivious.”

“What?”

“You’re both so stupid. So oblivious.” She groaned once again as she threw her hands in the air. “You both think that the feelings are one sided.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off as you let yourself lean back on the bench. You’re quite certain that you’re the only one being so consumed by these emotions. You’ve pretty much made your mind up about the fact that it’s impossible for him to return any of those feelings that you have for him.

“The atmosphere when I came in the last time both of you had dinner, just the two of you, certainly didn’t look like it was one sided.”

“Barged in.” You corrected her teasingly as you bumped your shoulder into hers.

“Okay, whatever. My point still stands.”

“Ellie, that was months ago…” you sighed deeply and shook your head at her words.

“Stop. Why do you do this?” She asked exasperated.

“Wh—”

“Why do you believe that he wouldn’t have feelings for you too?” Ellie questioned as she leaned closer to you. “Like, you’re so pretty and have such a lovely personality.”

“I-I I don’t know. I just find it hard to believe. Besides,” you shrugged with a frown “I find it very hard to deal with my own emotions because I’ve never been in love before so this is so new to me.”

Her eyes softened as she listened to you. Slowly, she brought her hand to squeeze your arm reassuringly. “I can understand that. But love is a beautiful thing.”

“True…” you whispered.

“I can understand being scared, but Y/N you’re so worthy of love. Just like Joel is. I am convinced both of you are meant for each other.” She said with a hopeful expression.

“Ellie—”

“I’m serious. Just, please think about it for a while. You both deserve more than this secret pining for each other.” She grumbled at the last sentence.

“Okay I will. Can we please talk about something else now?”

“Sure.” She shrugged with a smile.

“Thank you, Ellie bean.” You said gratefully.

It’s quiet between you two, as you two sit in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the beautiful weather and each other’s company.

“So… drawing huh?” She grinned.

—

As Ellie and you were talking about your shared love for drawing you heard someone approaching the both of you. Ellie is the first one to look up and she greets the person with a wide smile.

“Hi Emilie!” Ellie beamed as your sister stepped foot on your front porch.

“Oh, here are my favourite girls!” She said with the biggest grin on her face. Emilie brought her hand up to high-five Ellie. “Hey ravioli.” She said as the youngest girl hit her hand.

Ellie scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Jeez, just because I love ravioli doesn’t mean you have to call me that. Can’t a girl love food in peace.”

Your sister doesn’t reply to the teen and averted her attention to you, greeting you too. Emilie gestures for Ellie to scooch over, before she plops down on the bench between both of you. “So what are you guys talking about?”

“Hey! That bench was recently repaired! There’s no need for you to let yourself fall on the seat like that.” You groan at your sister's silly behaviour.

“Recently? That was months ago.” Ellie counters with a playful smile.

“Ah yes, the bench that the love of your life repaired.” Emilie said with a dreamy expression.

You gasped at her words, feeling your cheeks heat up instantly. You gave her a light shove, “Emilie!”

“What?” Your sister shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s true.”

“Love of your life?” Ellie beams.

You sighed dramatically before leaning against the back of the bench. “Look at what you just did.” You gestured towards Ellie.

“Oh quit the theatrics.” Your sister rolled her eyes teasingly. “Everyone knows you have feelings for Joel except for that man himself.”

Your eyes widened as her words registered in your mind. “Everyone?” You squeaked.

“Yes, just like everyone knows that man is pining over you except for you!” Your sister said exasperated.

You shook your head frantically. “You’re ly—”

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Ellie groaned. “Wake up.”

“Yeah, lovely sister of mine,” Emilie placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a serious look, “respectfully wake the fuck up.”

“Disrespectfully, Emilie, shut up.” You said to your sister, shrugging her hand off you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, pouting as you still leaned against the bench.

“Why are you pouting? This is a good thing.” Ellie huffed.

“Yeah, this is a good thing. Why don’t you want to allow good things into your life?” Emilie asked, looking at you seriously.

Silence fell for some moments, before you whispered, “I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do!” Both Ellie and your sister said simultaneously.

You bit your lip as you looked at them silently. You knew deep down that you deserved to love and be loved in return but it was so hard for you to accept that someone could genuinely have feelings for you. It wouldn’t make any sense, you were always used to people that were attracted to you to expect something from you that you weren’t ready to do or they wouldn’t genuinely care about who you are as a person. You knew Joel was different, he showed you enough through the past year. But somehow your mind tried to tell you otherwise.

“This is driving me insane,” Ellie sighed, shaking her head.

“Ellie,” your sister said pointedly at the younger girl before turning back to look back at you. “Y/N… you are so worthy of love. I know you’ve never experienced this type of emotion or feeling ever before, but you deserve to feel safe with someone and to love someone deeply and for them to love you just as fiercely. I know you keep thinking because of past relationships, friendships or situationships that people aren’t truly interested in you or that people don’t genuinely care for you. But, those people do exist. Ellie cares for you, I do, and I am completely certain that Joel cares for you too. You deserve to feel loved, cared for and to be happy.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at your sister’s words. You felt truly overwhelmed by everything she told you. Deep down you knew she was right, you were trying to believe her words but you knew it might take a bit of time.

“Thank you.” You whispered, tears flowing down your cheeks as you hugged her side. “You don’t know how much that means to me. It might take some time for me to truly believe everything you said but I want to try.”

Both girls went to envelop you in a warm hug, squeezing your body tight. You felt your body relax in their embrace.

“I love you.” Ellie whispered, at her words you hugged her body tighter.

“I love you too, Ellie bean.” You smiled, tears still in your eyes as you leaned your head against the crown of her head.

And for the first time in a long time you felt like your heart could breathe again.

—

A month passed and you still hadn’t confessed your feelings to the man that’s been consuming your very brain for a year. You still hung out whenever you could, but telling Joel how you felt about him still terrified you. But as time passed, you allowed yourself to believe the words your sister and Ellie told you. It was very freeing.

One thing that didn’t change though was your stubbornness. You are certain you will always hate asking people for help. Like for example, the fact that your shower head was acting up so much you couldn’t take proper showers which made you have to use Emilie’s shower at her place sometimes. Until the shower head actually broke.

That’s why a few days later, you were standing in front of Joel’s door, contemplating if you should really ask him for his help. You bit your lip as you thought about it. Sighing, you told yourself that you should just do it. As you were about to knock, the door opened.

Your eyes widened as you came face to face with Joel. Your cheeks heat up as you lock eyes with him. You know you shouldn't be flustered right now because he is the only one who can help you. And he did tell you that you could always come to him if you needed his help. Or for anything really. But somehow, you still couldn’t help but feel shy around him.

“Sweetheart?” Joel looked at you worriedly.

“H-hi?” You smiled sheepishly. “Am I coming at a bad time?”

“No, ‘course not.” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile curled upon his lips. “Everything alright?”

“I am alright, it’s just,” you trailed off as you looked away shyly. “I think I might need your help.”

Joel closed the door behind him as he kept his gaze on you. He motioned for you to show the way. “Let’s go.”

You giggled as you shook your head light heartedly. “You don’t even know what I need your help for.”

“That’s where you're wrong darlin’. A little birdie told me your shower head is broken.” Joel’s mouth twitched in mild amusement as you just gaped at him.

Oh my god… Emilie.

Your face burned once again. You couldn’t believe that your sister would tell the person you’re desperately in love with about this. You felt embarrassed, knowing that he knew about you struggling. As if he could read your thoughts, “I only know since yesterday, but I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.” He said as he looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

“O-okay.” You said, groaning internally at your stuttering. “Anyways, yes. I need your help with fixing my shower. I hope that’s okay?” You asked hesitatingly.

“‘Course it is. Show the way, pretty girl.” He winked, beckoning for you to move along.

He thinks I’m pretty?

—

Joel was standing in your shower as he tried to fix the shower head. He smiled as he threw you a thumbs up.

“Ah, here we go. This should work now—” Joel’s smile faltered as water started unexpectedly spraying out of the shower head. Surprised, it slipped out of his hands, dropping to the floor, the spray pointing up at him, which drenched Joel quickly.

Your eyes widened as you took Joel in. His white shirt and jeans are both drenched and sticking to his body. You could see the outline of everything. Your body turned flush with heat as you continued to stare at him. You couldn’t help but find him so hot, with his shirt clinging to his body. He grumbled as he looked down at the state of his clothes. Eventually you moved into action, “O-oh let me get you a towel!” you blurted out. You quickly made your way to one of your closets in your bedroom, rummaging for some spare towels.

“Y/N stop being such a creep.” You grumbled to yourself, embarrassed that you were staring at him so unabashedly. You’re worried that he might think you’re creepy, staring at him like he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. Well, actually, he was the sexiest man to you. But you didn’t want him to think of you as some sort of weirdo. That’s the last thing you want, for him to think you’re creepy. As you found the towels you were still in such a deep inner monologue while you walked back into the bathroom.

“I found the towels—” you gasp, accidentally dropping the towels on the floor as you took Joel in.

The man had taken off his shirt, most likely because he didn’t like the feel of the fabric clinging to his body. He took your breath away. As you once again stared at him you couldn’t help but let your wide eyes wander all over his chest. He was broad, he wasn’t really muscular but he had a solid build. He was strong and large, and soft in the right places. There were some scars littered over his skin here and there, as a result of the years of fighting to try and stay alive. Some hair was scattered over his body, your eyes trailing along his happy trail, eventually disappearing underneath his jeans. You felt yourself ache between your legs as your eyes continued to roam over his form, studying him with so much intensity. You were still admiring him when he spoke up.

“I’m not really nice to look at.” He mumbled.

Your heart ached at his self deprecated words. You couldn’t believe what he said. How could he think of himself so lowly? You thought he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “W-what?” You said as you shook your head frantically.

“I’m not—”

“Joel Miller, you better stop bringing yourself down.” You said sternly, surprising both of you. You sighed loudly as he looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand the need for you to put yourself down when you’re far from unattractive.”

Silence fell for a couple of moments. Until Joel exhaled shakily. “You-you think I’m attractive?” The man asked, he seemed so doubtful.

“I thought that was pretty obvious…” you trailed off shyly as you looked at the tiled floor between your two feet. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious to everyone else.” You chuckled nervously.

You heard him grunt softly before hearing his wet, heavy steps, as he slowly made his way to you. Joel grasped your chin gently, tilting your face towards him. You felt your cheeks burn, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his touch. Your eyes lock with his as he looks at you desperately.

“You think I’m attractive?” He repeated his earlier question more pleadingly.

“I don’t only think you’re attractive… you’re so beautiful. So pretty. Handsome…” you trailed off as you duck your head timidly. “Sexy.” You said apprehensively, before looking away from him. “I think you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”

“I think you’re beautiful as well. The prettiest little thing that has ever walked this earth.” He whispers, his voice coming out a lot deeper. “Words can not describe how beautiful you are. Inside-out.”

You felt your breath catch in your chest as you felt your body tremble at his words. You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide with curiosity. You couldn’t help but like how he was towering over you. He was so broad, so strong. You felt your face burn, biting your lip and feeling incredibly weak as his gaze stayed locked with yours. You felt light headed at the close proximity. You could barely think straight.

He brought his hands down to your waist, holding your body close to his as he smiled warmly down at you. He whispered your name, breath hitching as he looked at you intently. “Sweetheart…”

You breathed his name softly before his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You gasped in surprise at his actions, but you quickly closed your eyes as he deepened the kiss. Joel’s large hands cupped the side of your face in such a tender way it made your insides melt. Never did you think you’d ever be able to feel his lips on yours. And here he was, kissing you. Your arms wrapped around his back, your fingers digging in his back the action making him grunt. His beard was rough against your soft skin, but was so welcomed. You kissed him back just as deeply, hands stroking up and down his back in a soothing manner.

He held you tighter against his body before slowly pulling away, resting his forehead against yours as both of you breathed heavily against each other's lips.

“I hope that was okay.” He said with a gentle smile. Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed what happened, having a hard time to believe that their kiss really happened. Never in your life were you ever able to keep your heavy emotions in control. Certainly not when you were overwhelmed. His forehead furrowed, concern flashing through his eyes. “What’s wrong Darlin’?”

God, why do I have to get so emotional?

“I am so sorry I just. I feel a bit overwhelmed because I always thought you’d never feel anything for me.” You rambled anxiously and your fingers trembled as they swiped under your eyes. “If you have any feelings for me, that is.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty obvious.” He smiled gently, his hands cupping your cheeks. Softly, he brushed your tears away with his thumbs. “Especially after… you know, kissing you.” He said with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Yeah maybe…” you shrugged with a giggle, “you do have a point.”

“I do, don’t I?” He smirked playfully.

“You’re so silly.” You rolled your eyes lightheartedly.

“Only with you darlin’,” he winked.

You felt the heat rise in your face once more. You don’t think you could ever get used to his teasing or his flirtatious behaviour.

“So corny…” you snorted as you shook your head with amusement, “you’re lucky I love you.”

You quickly covered your mouth at the realisation that those words were said out loud. Your heartbeat was beating loudly in your chest, as your wide eyes met his. You wonder if he could hear your heart practically beat out of your chest.

His breath hitched in his throat, as his eyes bored into yours. “You mean that?”

Heat overwhelmed your body, feeling as if you’re on fire. Your mouth felt extremely dry, still you tried to swallow, nodding slowly anticipating his next reaction. “I do.”

The molten intensity made you unable to look away as both of you just breathed and stared into each other’s eyes. You felt as if time stopped in that moment, your bodies so close, yet they felt so far. As he held your gaze, he moved his body closer to yours again.

“Joel—” you whispered breathlessly.

He cut you off, kissing you by surprise. Capturing all the words you were about to say. Completely shocked, your whole body froze as you felt his lips claim around yours, hands pulled your face towards his as he kept pressing his lips further, almost to the point it hurt.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Like a magnet, you felt your body move closer to his, moving your hands around his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

You nibbled on his bottom lip lightly, eliciting a moan from him. Slowly, he pulled away from your lips, to press kisses to your cheek. His lips slowly travelled all over your face. You whimper as his mouth moved from your jaw to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses all over your neck, your hands moved towards his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He questioned, his beard scratching your neck as he continued to kiss your neck. Your body trembled against his as he continued to suck, kiss and lick your neck.

“Hmmm?”

Joel groaned and stopped his actions when you didn’t reply to his question, pulling back to look at your face. You feel his stare, waiting for your response. You hadn’t realised your eyes fell closed as you were enjoying his kisses. Unhurriedly, you opened your eyes, looking right into his.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you decided to tell him the truth. How could you not? When he’s looking at you with so much desperation.

“Like… at least a half year ago?” You answered, your hesitant eyes looking into his own.

Joel groaned loudly, enveloping your lips with his once again. He kissed you with so much passion, giving you everything that had to offer. His mouth moves against yours so hungrily. As he continued to give you long and deep kisses, you felt the heat rising within you. The throbbing between your legs felt unbearable as you whimpered desperately against his lips.

“I love you too baby, so fuckin’ much.” He rasped against your lips.

A gasp left your lips at his words and he deepened the kiss even more, as he quickly took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and swirling it around yours. You felt as if your whole body was on fire as you continued to kiss each other ferociously, your fingers raking through his peppered hair.

He grunted as he pushed your body against the wall. His arms wrap around your body, holding your body close against his. You whimpered as his lips travelled from your lips to your throat, nipping at the skin which resulted in you squirming in his hold. Your hands busied themselves with exploring his exposed back, caressing his skin.

He moved his mouth towards your ear, “you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you.” He murmured. Joel’s lips travelled towards your shoulder while littering your skin with soft kisses. “Kissing you.” His hands wandered unhurriedly against your back, his hands eventually settled on your lower back, just above your ass. “Touching you.”

“Please,” you whined as you tried chasing his lips again, gripping his strong arms with your hands.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” He whispered raspily into your ear. A shiver went down your spine at his words. Joel’s voice carried so much emotion. So much desperation and adoration for you. “I love this baby blue dress on you. Although it’s really killing me right now.” He groans against your neck as his hands finally move to your ass over your frilly summer dress, grabbing a handful of your cheeks.

You felt even more wetness pool between your legs as you thought about the fact that you weren’t wearing any lingerie underneath.

You turned into a bigger whimpering mess as he kept littering your neck, shoulders and face with kisses. You felt one of his legs sliding between your legs, pressing his thigh against your exposed core.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Joel lifted his head and your eyes caught his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slipped his tongue past your lips. The man is wrapped around you completely, a hand caressing your back, the other holding your ass. Your body trembled as Joel started rubbing his thigh against your soaked core. You’ve never wanted someone more in your whole life.

“Joel,” you whined desperately.

“Tell me what you want kitten.” He groaned.

A loud whimper escaped your lips at his words. The pet name turned you on extremely. Your hips moved against his thigh, grinding against the clothed material.

“I want you.”

A string of moans slipped past your lips as Joel moved his head up to lick into your mouth.

“Pleaseee.” You whined against his lips as you rubbed your sensitive pussy against his jeans. “I need you.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Ah!” You gasped as he picked you up effortlessly. Quickly, you wrapped your legs around his hips. The both of you continued to kiss each other passionately as Joel carried you to your bedroom. Once he reached your bed he softly placed you down the sheets.

You felt the bed dip before he hovered above you. Joel’s dark eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath the skirt of your dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You felt yourself grow nervous at his touch.

“W-wait.” You whispered.

His movements halt immediately at your words. He looked at you worriedly, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You wanted him so badly and you were extremely wet but you would be lying if you weren’t a bit nervous. Everything seemed more real once his touch moved closer to your intimate parts.

You exhaled deeply. “It’s just… don’t get me wrong, I want this. I literally want you so badly, but I’ve never been with someone intimately.” You said nervously as you waited for his reaction.

“Oh baby girl,” he whispered, looking at you tenderly. “Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” He smiled as he leaned down to rub his nose gently against yours. “But, we don’t need to do anything if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready, I just don’t want to disappoint you.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip.

“Baby, you could never disappoint me with this. You'll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect. I promise.” Joel smiled gently, looking at you with so much adoration before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt your whole body relax once his lips touched your skin. You trusted him, he was your everything.

Your lips moved to his neck before you placed an open mouthed kiss to his skin. “Please Joel, I need you.” You whispered seductively into his ear.

He groaned loudly before engulfing your lips in a heated kiss. You whimpered against his mouth as his hands started slowly caressing both of your thighs. Your head was clouded with so much lust, you felt so much love for him. Your brain turned quite literally into mush as you continued to kiss each other deeply.

You moved your hips desperately as you moaned against his lips, hoping Joel would get the hint.

“Such a needy kitten.” He chuckled against your lips.

“Only for you.” You whispered as you looked up at him pleadingly. “Please, touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He counters playfully.

“Please.” You whined desperately as you wiggled underneath him.

Moments later his lips pressed against yours again. The kiss got more heated the more you kissed each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands slowly trailed up your thigh once again. Your whimpers came out more frequently the closer his hand moved to where you needed him the most. Once his fingers come in contact with your heat you mewl loudly.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your lips, you’re certain because he felt how soaked you were for him. “You’re so fuckin’ wet baby girl. All for me?”

You were overwhelmed with warmth, it felt like a hot storm — as he spoke those words. You nodded frantically. You were sopping wet, you managed to speak but your voice is strangled and pathetic. “P-please. T-take off your clothes.”

“And leave you in this dress? Out of question.” He chuckled as he moved the hand that was touching your wetness to your thigh.

“Who said I wanted to stay in this dress?” You said as you raised one of your eyebrows at him.

“Baby—”

“Undress me cowboy.” You smiled as you pulled your bottom lip with your teeth seductively.

“God, you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned loudly.

“My name is Y/N but god sounds good too.” You giggled.

Joel shook his head with an amused grin on his face. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up a bit. You raised your arms quickly to help him get rid of your baby blue dress.

You felt your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roamed all over your naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. You felt your heartbeat picking up as his hands reached for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips moved to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re out of this world. So beautiful.” He whispered into your ear.

His lips then crashed against yours as you gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing, and took it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your heat. His mouth fell from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.

It's very, fucking wet, more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful sweet girl,” he muttered again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Joel breathed in through his nose, you flush harder at his words and shivered when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “The prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

That’s all you’ve been given before he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked passionately, as he also pushed one of his fingers inside your pussy.

The whine that came out of you only drove Joel to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He moaned, as your pussy clenched around his digit. “I need to prepare you as much as I can for my cock.”

Your whines became louder as you felt the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.

His tongue began licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand kept pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

You whined as your core started clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you began moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groaned against your skin. His lips left your breast with a wet pop and he looked at you intensely as he continued to fuck you with his finger. You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slipped another finger inside you. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me.” He panted against your lips.

You bucked your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He noticed and slipped a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tried to adjust to the addition. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You felt so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, you’re quite certain he’s massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips moved back to kiss you, whining against his mouth. Your hands clutched the bed sheets as you moved along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spreading them.

“That feels good doesn't it baby? You like it when I play with your little pussy? You like me fucking you with my fingers?" Joel moaned and his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as he fucked you with his fingers. You bucked your hips and nodded as you moaned. "Use your words kitten," he taunts.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, please oh my god. Joel, please.” You writhed against the sheets as you whimpered. “Please keep calling me that.” You bit your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re such a good kitty for me,” he said, a smug smirk playing on his face. You were impressed how easy it was for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.

Joel leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. You felt your legs spread even more open for him as you felt yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slipped into your mouth after another gasp fell from your lips. You couldn’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continued to pleasure you. Your hands wandered to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“Fuck, I need you so bad.” He groaned as his thumb applied more pressure on your little nub. He curled his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shook.

“I need you more.” You whimpered as your body trembled underneath his.

His eyes stared into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastened his motions inside you, you moaned again and squeezed your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen made your back arch beneath him.

“Open your eyes for me, my baby.”

You opened your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze was what it took for you to come undone. The hot feeling spread all over your body, your body tingled, your hips moving at their own accord against Joel’s hand.

“You’re doing so well for me angel,” He said proudly as his fingers slowed down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

As you came back to your senses, you felt his fingers slip away from your heat. You felt your pussy clench around nothing every now and then and were dripping down the sheets, which made you whimper helplessly. You needed him so bad. And now. Joel climbed off the bed, making quick work to remove all of his clothing. You were still in a daze, closing your eyes for a minute. Moments later you felt the bed dip.

You felt your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan left your lips at the feel of his mouth meeting your soaking wet pussy. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically screamed at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed once again. You felt your body trembling terribly. You needed more. You tried to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continued to shake.

Strong arms were suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

“You taste so good, baby girl. I could eat this pussy all day.”

You felt heat overwhelm your senses more as you felt Joel chuckle against your heat. His tongue was lapping sloppily at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises came out from your throat. You were squirming, it was so good you could barely even figure out what he was doing with his tongue.

“Fuck, Joel baby, oh my goooood” you cried out loud. You were certain that if people walked outside your house that they would have heard you by now. He sucked lazily at your clit while he moved to slip two fingers into you. Joel eventually sucked harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You kept chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

“Please, I’m so cloooooose.” You whined.

As Joel sucked your clit harder, you gasped loudly as you felt your whole body trembling even more and then you felt your body tense as you came against his mouth. Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt truly overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body continued to tremble as you felt yourself come down from your high.

You felt Joel’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth felt heavenly, but you whined at the sensitivity. He moaned as he licked against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance.

“T-too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Joel ignored your pleads, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you love so much that was between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucked the nub softly between his lips. You were grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling off your lips. This time he didn’t hold you back from fucking his face. Eventually he leaned down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You were a mess of his name, you chanted his name over and over again. Your hips moved against his face as you continued to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripped onto his peppered hair rather harshly and hips pushed against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Ahhh Joeeeeel—” you drag out. You were really so close, you just needed one more little push.

“Come for me kitten,” he whispered against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. That does it, your dam broke down as you came against his mouth as your whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. You came with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turned white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers were tightly woven through Joel’s hair and your hips pushed so far against his face, you almost thought you were suffocating him.

“You’re always doing so good for me baby, I love you so much my sweetheart.” Joel whispered against you. As you slowly came down to reality again and you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently, until you whined because the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You Nudged your leg against his face as you tried to squirm away from him, Joel’s mouth finally detached from your heat.

He quickly licked the wetness off his lips and the places he could reach before he crawled up to you with a smile, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moaned at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, his wet beard against your face, your arms wrapped around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sighed, against his mouth, you felt yourself melt in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.

Soon your hands start to grip his body tighter against yours, your legs tangling together. It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, fuck” Joel rasped, and it was because he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loved the sounds you made as he spread his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You quickly realised by the way he felt while he rubbed against you that he was huge. You were still so wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock made you wetter. Joel swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You were trembling against him, filled with anticipation. His broad body covered your body with his. Loving how bigger and taller he was than you. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“Are you ready for me darlin’?” He whispered as he looked deep into your eyes. “Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promised.

You bit your lip and nodded, too shy and excited to talk, as you rubbed your pussy against his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “I need you to use your words kitty.”

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, sweetheart?” He said before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubbed the tip firmly over your swollen clit then moved down to your wet tight hole and your mind was all over the place.

“P-please J-Joel…” you stuttered as your body trembled even more underneath him.

He rubbed himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arched your back slightly and whimpered loudly out of frustration.

The moment you want to beg him again he leaned down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Joel slid the tip in so slowly it was agonising. Your lips part with a gasp. He was careful, like he was afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushed more of him inside you. You whined at the stretch of him. He was so big. You thought big was an understatement, he’s huge. Your tight pussy clenched around him as it tried to accommodate his massive girth. Joel continued to push more of his cock inside you. He leaned down to kiss your lips gently as he moved more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

His hips stilled once he heard you gasp loudly. “So full…”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiled tenderly as he looked down at you.

“T-t-there’s m-more?” You stammered with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly.

“Please,” You closed your eyes and whined as you nodded. You gripped the bed sheets between your fingers as you begged him for more.

“Good girl,” he groaned softly. You thought there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he said those words you felt your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continued to pulse and clench around his cock as he moved deeper inside you.

Once he bottomed out, you felt his tip kiss your cervix. Joel let his body rest against yours as he allowed you to adjust to his size. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more.

You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Joel.”

“My sweet girl needs me to move?” He asked teasingly, as he cocked his head to the side.

“Yes, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thickness rather hard which made him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He licked his lips before he nodded quietly and started moving slow and deep, one hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other held your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.

“Such a tight pussy,” he groaned.

The angle was so good, but when his pace picked up he finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action made you gasp and you grab at the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.” He whispered as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss. At a certain point you felt the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escaped your throat, a strange cry of his name.

“Feeling good sweetheart?” He grunted, a small smirk forming on his lips.

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed your mewls, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulled tight, tight, tighter. His lips slid away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tried to suck in air again, and everything was too much. It was just too much for you to handle.

He quickened his pace, his hips snapped up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it, baby girl?”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moaned at the feeling of his speed, your fourth? orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, Christ I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Joel, fill this pussy up.”

He groaned as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bit your lip harshly. He brought one of his hands down, rubbing your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum.

“F-fuck fuuuck, Joel-Joel, oh my god. I’m going to—!”

“Cum for me, my pretty angel. Let yourself go. Cum all over me.” He moaned against your ear.

Your whole body trembled as you came with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. That time around, the orgasm felt more intense than the others, you were feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure. Joel groaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,“ he moaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Until it’s all full and messy?”

You nodded vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

He groaned loudly, as he cummed inside you. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread within your walls. You whimpered at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Joel leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“Please… stay.” You moaned softly.

“Of course baby,” he whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Want you to stay inside.” You whimpered as your pussy clenched around him.

Joel groaned, wrapping his arms around you before rolling both of you onto your sides. “anythin’ for you, baby.”

“I love you Joel.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, enjoying his strong hold on you.

“I love you too sweetheart. You’re everythin’ to me.”

Both of you continued to caress each other’s bodies, whispering sweet nothings, kissing and holding each other until you both fell into a slumber.

Joel caught your heart, promising to hold onto it forever.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #tlou x reader #tlou x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #my writing #I’m aware that there are lots of grammatical errors and just me accidentally switching tenses #I’m just too tired to fix it all 😭

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: slytherin!reader x sirius enemies to lovers possibly? thanks love!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), enemies to lovers, mean/condescending sirius, lots of teasing and arguing, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, petnames (doll, pet), explicit sex scenes, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader and sirius are always at odds. after earning a detention, they decide to sneak to the kitchens at night and get sidetracked.

𝑨/𝑵: ugh i'm such a slut for enemies to lovers with sirius eeeeek. i had had had to write this! btw sorry for going mia for a few days; work has been exhausting me :( i'm gonna work on some requests tomorrow since i'm off and hopefully that can hold you all over until i have more time. also, to clarify, my smut posts are for 18+ audiences only! i will be blocking minors who interact with my smut posts. as always, this is unedited, so sorry for any errors/typos! hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 4.7k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

“you bloody prat!” the foul words leave your mouth before you have a chance to stop them, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. immediately, your gaze finds the figure of professor slughorn at the head of the classroom. his eyes are wide, set in a surprised expression as he looks over you.

“miss y/n,” he says, in a rather mild voice for his looming presence.

you flush, skin burning. the entirety of the class watches you, fists clenched around a handful of wormwood as it crumbles. beside you, there’s a self-satisfied smirk on sirius black’s face. he’s got a smear of flobberworm mucous over his sleeve, where he’s just emptied his entire container into your cauldron, effectively rendering your sleeping draught entirely useless.

“i’m sorry, professor,” you say. in an effort to placate him, you glance at sirius and sigh in exasperation. “sirius just– bumped into me, and knocked all of this flobberworm mucous into my cauldron. promise it won’t happen again.” you cut your eyes at the elder black brother, his expression slightly bemused at your sudden change of tone. there’s no need snitching to professor slughorn; you’ll get sirius back, and it’ll be far worse than any detention with the head of your house. 

“very well,” says professor slughorn. he’s taken your bait, and you’re glad for it. “mr. black, i’m sure you won’t mind miss y/n assisting you, since her potion is now–” he peers over your shoulder, having lumbered over to your table. his lips curl up into a grimace “--ruined, yes, quite awfully. sharing is caring, after all.”

sirius grunts as professor slughorn slaps him on the back like an old chum. your features curl up into a sneer, your eyes glowing with retribution. sirius huffs a quiet, “yes, professor.”

he glares at your shit-eating grin as you settle yourself beside him. his own potion doesn’t look much better than yours; he’s clearly been focused on making your life a living hell rather than on his potion-making, and it shows. “this looks shit,” you say, making a face at him.

���‘course it does,” he says, sourly, “dumped all my flobber mucous into your potion, didn’t i?”

“serves you right, you dirty, conniving little–”

sirius cuts you off with a snort, “ugh, y/n, if you want to fuck me so badly just say that.” his sarcastic words send a jolt through you, your stomach bubbling with rage.

“in your dreams, sirius,” you spit, knocking your shoulder into his with enough force to make his stool wobble. professor slughorn is none the wiser, gloating over lily evans’s potion across the room. 

sirius grumbles under his breath, tapping his wand mindlessly against the cauldron in any effort to help his quickly deteriorating potion. after a moment he says, “help me out here, will you? it’s your bloody potion, too.”

“i’d rather die,” you say dramatically, lifting your chin haughtily as you distract yourself by scratching a star into the tabletop with your fingernail. the fury radiating off of him is enough to satisfy you for now; he’s swearing under his breath, dumping odds and ends into the cauldron in a futile attempt to save his mark for the day. you prod the inside of your cheek with your tongue, trying not to smile at his frustration. karma, karma, karma. you can only hope he’ll have to endure extra credit hours in slughorn’s office, listening to all the stories of his talented old students. you couldn’t imagine a more boring saturday night. 

“stupid, fuckin’ thing, what am i doing wrong?” sirius says quietly, startling you with a particularly hard thump of his wand against the cauldron. you glance inside, the mixture having congealed into something nasty and grey. you wrinkle your nose.

“everything, by the looks of it,” you say. you answer his tight-lipped expression with a sickeningly sweet smile and a bat of your eyelashes. you’re sure he’s starting to rethink his choice to ruin your potion this morning. 

“shut up,” he hisses, a particularly foul emphasis on the words. if looks could kill, the daggers he stares into you would be piercing straight through your heart. you almost want to goad him even further, provoke him into a reaction that will be enough to get him in trouble with dumbledore himself, but you know better. you’re very good at playing the long game.

thus begins your blood-thirsty rivalry with sirius black. of course, neither of you were particularly fond of the other in the first place; you supposed it was his hatred of slytherins. he approached you as if you were some scum-of-the-earth, less-than-human creature, solely because of the house you were placed in. funny coming from someone whose little brother shared the same house. from your first interaction, you decided you could be exactly who he envisioned you to be, and you made it your mission to do so. 

at first, the incidents are easily passed off as “accidental.” sirius charming your quills to pelt you in the head, aiming for your eyes. you muttering a particularly difficult to reverse rendition of, “engorgio skullus,” that put him in the hospital wing for a week whilst madam pomfrey tried to shrink his head back to its regular size (though, in your opinion, it wasn’t much bigger than normal.) you began to map your paths through the corridors, purposely avoiding the places in which you knew sirius would be present. he grew very fond of casting non-verbal tripping jinxes, sending you and all of your belongings sprawling through the halls. similarly, when you found him pestering remus in the library, you were quick to employ the oppugno jinx, sending a spattering of books barreling towards him. 

you earned a detention from madam pince for that one, but it was well-worth it when you saw sirius’s battered appearance the next morning. the antics go on and on, until you’re both at odds to the point where the entire school is invested in who’s going to one-up the other depending on the day. you hear james and remus making bets on it as you pass the gryffindors on your way to herbology one day; you can’t help but smirk as remus bets on you. you always knew he was a smart man. 

after a horribly timed jelly-legs jinx from sirius, you wobble into the slytherin common room to get ready for bed. your muscles ache, as your legs collapsed beneath you just as you were at the top of a staircase. toppling down the stones, you were too busy screeching in anger to notice the almost worried look on sirius’s face at his handiwork. he’d even bounded down the stairs, muttering a half apology before you hissed, “flipendo,” and sent him crumbling into the staircase himself. as you passed his crumpled frame, groaning in pain, you were pleased to see a sheepish james handing over another galleon to remus. 

you wince as you finally make it down the passage, stopping for a second to rest your burning limbs. regulus reclines on one of the sofas, feet kicked up as he flicks through an old book. his eyes find yours briefly, flashing with mirth.

“what are you looking at?” you breathe, putting pressure on an especially sore rib. a sharp pain causes you to frown, doubling over for a second.

“y’look like hell,” says regulus.

you roll your eyes. “you know what–” you take a sharp breath at another pain. “--i get enough shit from your git of a brother. don’t you start on me, too.” you point a finger at him, wagging it.

he laughs, dropping the newspaper onto his stomach. he clasps his hands over it, cocking his head as he eyes you carefully. there’s a wicked little grin on his chiseled, handsome face. his intelligent eyes scheme for a moment, thoughts crossing through them to the point where you can practically see the gears turning. 

“what?” you repeat, impatient with his conspicuous contemplation. he’s clearly dying to speak his mind, and you’re sure you won’t make it another two minutes standing in the common room before your legs give out completely. you’re dying to get into bed. 

“i was just thinking,” regulus contemplates, smug as he leans up on his elbows.

“didn’t know you could manage that,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. if nothing else, regulus is as dramatic, if not more, than his brother.

he wrinkles his nose.

“go on,” you urge. “i’m dying to know what you’re thinking, reg.”

he smiles, the curve of his lips meant to be placating in spite of his words. “how long are you and sirius going to play cat-and-mouse before you give up the act and admit you want each other?” 

“i hope you’re joking,” you say flippantly. you turn immediately from his lazing figure, marching towards the girls’ dorms. 

“deny it all you want,” he calls from behind you. “everyone knows!”

you find your dorm, luckily empty, and slam the door behind you. your neck and ears burn, as you suddenly feel quite embarrassed. there’s no way sirius likes you, and you certainly don’t have any feelings for him; other than hate, annoyance, and frustration, that is. yes, you’d like to throttle the eldest of the black brothers, and you’re sure you would get a great deal of pleasure from it. but want, lust, affection? regulus has officially lost his mind.

you seethe as you get ready for bed, a dozen reminders of sirius as you ache all over with each movement. hate certainly brews a certain sort of passion within a person, but you’d march into the forbidden forest wandless, robeless, and blindfolded before you had a single warm thought for sirius black. 

you’re still fuming as you nestle yourself beneath the duvet. and as awful as it is to admit, your last thought before you sink into slumber is of that stupidly handsome, haughty face that you think you hate so much. 

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“not like that, you dumb–”

“please, sirius!” you retort, frustrated with the dark-haired young man sitting beside you. he’s genuinely dancing on your last good nerve, offering a snarky comment for your every movement today. “just shut up.”

somehow, you’ve been sat beside him in transfiguration. professor mcgonagall had the ever-so-lovely idea to come up with a new seating chart, placing you and sirius at a table together. you’re moments away from throttling him and being sent to azkaban for murder. 

“i’m trying to help you, here,” he says, shrugging. “do it wrong, then, if y’want. i couldn’t care less.”

“oh, you’re so good at it, are you?” you stare at him, a sour look on your face. today’s lesson was supposed to be easy (according to professor mcgonagall), and you were having an impossibly hard time as it was one of your first lessons on human transfiguration. you had yet to be successful in any of the other human transfiguration lessons, either. sirius’s nagging presence wasn’t doing anything to help. 

“seeing as i’ve been doing it for the last half an hour, i would think so.”

“well, show me, then, you bloody genius,” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest. you blink at him, waiting for his enormous display of intelligence.

“so easy,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “i mean, ‘s not like you’re turning yourself into a bleeding dragon or something…”

“i’m just growing my hair by magic,” you say, hot under the collar with frustration. “not everyone’s mr. perfect like you.”

sirius rolls his eyes. you watch him for another second, trying not to look impressed as he does exactly that. his dark hair grows longer before your eyes, sweeping down over his collarbones and skirting just above his elbows.

“okay, show-off,” you mutter, turning away with a frown on your face. “an inch is the requirement.”

he chuckles, smug. “‘s all right,” he says, reaching to tug on a strand of your hair, rather harshly. you gasp at the sting, swatting his hand away with a blush on your face. you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “maybe we can do it manually.” he pulls on another strand over your hand.

“sirius,” you whine, grasping his wrist to stop him. your heart thumps wildly at the look on his face, a pleased smile on his lips. he’s apparently enjoying teasing you. maybe a little too much. “that hurts.”

“aw,” he says, his voice mocking as he feigns pity. “poor baby. hurts, does it?” the condescending tone in his voice has a pit growing in your stomach, your heart sinking into it by the second. he dodges your grasp. there’s another pull on your hair. he raises his eyebrows at the whimper that comes from your lips as you shove him.

“can– can you— stop it, you shit,” there’s a flash of hands as you and sirius battle it out, him reaching over to pester you some more as you block him as best as you can. truthfully, you’re embarrassed that him teasing you is stirring your insides, exciting you in a way that is very wrong. plus, you refuse to let regulus be right. you’d rather have a slap-fight with sirius in the middle of class then let him make you crumble at his taunting actions. 

you wince as he jerks your hair again, this time hard enough to make tears prick your eyes. you respond with a sharp SMACK against his forearm, which rings through the room not unlike a gunshot. there’s a split second of complete silence, as mcgonagall is comprehending your misbehaviors.

“miss y/n, mr. black,” she says, voice strict. “ten points from gryffindor, and slytherin. see me after class.” she peers at the two of you over her spectacles, meaning business. you sink into your seat, chastised. sirius nods, pressing his lips together as he settles back into his own place. 

“nice one, dumbass,” he says quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i told you to stop a dozen times.”

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪

“bleeding candelabras... my fingers are going to fall off,” you complain. it’s well past midnight, filch having finally decided that you and sirius had sufficiently completed your detention. after a miserable few hours, crouched in his office polishing the silver, the two of you are finally free to go.

“tell me about it,” sirius yawns, shaking his head. “don’t think m’hands will ever be the same.” he holds his palms out in front of him, wrinkling his nose at the cracked skin. 

“gross,” you peer at his dry hands. “it’s those muggle chemicals he insists on using. much safer to use magic if you ask me.”

sirius chuckles, “poor guy wants us all to know how hard it is to be a suffering squib.”

you laugh despite yourself, then shake your head. “i hope mcgonagall’s not expecting us to go back tomorrow night. don’t think i can miss dinner again.” you clutch at your stomach. “‘m starving.”

“let’s sneak into the kitchens,” sirius suggests.

you look at him as if his head’s fallen off his shoulders. “are you out of your mind?”

“oh, c’mon. james and i have done it plenty of times. the house elves aren’t going to tell anyone.”

“we’re in enough trouble as it is, sirius,” you say firmly.

“suit yourself,” he stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heel. you watch him pad down the hall, his shirt lifted slightly to reveal his lower back as he stretches. you swallow hard, averting your eyes as your hands go a bit clammy. he rolls his neck side-to-side as he lowers his arms. 

you think about it for a second, then you call, “wait–wait for me.” it takes more than a few strides for you to catch up, and then you’re slinking downstairs with him, headed for the kitchens. a midnight snack couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“knew you couldn’t resist,” he says, voice teasing.

you roll your eyes.

there’s a certain thrill to stalking the castle’s corridors at night. you’re not sure if it's the adrenaline or the repeated image of sirius’s bare skin burned into your mind that has your pulse hammering endlessly. a giddiness employs itself in your stomach, churning as you follow him on the familiar path down to the kitchens; it’s clear that he’s been out after hours plenty of times. he knows the place like the back of his hand, barely batting an eye as he leads you through the corridors. 

“are you sure we won’t be caught?” you whisper, voice hardly audible through the sound of your own heart.

“we’ll be fine,” sirius says, confident. “don’t you trust me?” he quirks a slender eyebrow at you. his grey eyes have a dark cast in the low light, only the shine of a few candles illuminating his features. you shrug, your mouth dry as he grins at you. 

“i–i mean, sure,” you say, half-hearted. his laugh is low, gravelly. accompanied with his tired voice, it’s enough to make you swoon.

“right, then,” he says, “we’re nearly there.”

you’re close to your destination when sirius stops in his tracks. you nearly trip over him, grasping his arm for balance as he stops, listening.

“what?” you tug at his sleeve. “what is it?”

“shut up,” he mutters, seeming much more like his normal self. “someone’s coming.” his eyes scan the corridor ahead of you, then he spins around, shoving you towards a door a few feet away.

“what–where are we?” 

he’s shoving you into a dark room, pulling the door closed very gently behind him. a heavy-sounding lock clicks into place. you push past him, hands finding the door as you place your ear against the heavy wood. you hold your breath as you listen for footsteps outside the door.

the room is very small; your feet shuffle to find somewhere to stand, through piles of junk on the floor. sirius does the same, crowding in behind you to listen along at the door. you try to ignore the heat in your stomach as he presses his body against your back in the small space. it’s the only way he can eavesdrop at the door alongside you. at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

you’re both dead quiet, your hands shaking as you listen. the footsteps echo closer and closer, and stop. you bite down on your lip, trying to pay attention. however, sirius’s lithe frame pressed against you is proving to be a great distraction. you feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes calmly. he’s pressed against you, solid and unmoving. the heat radiating from his body is lighting your skin on fire; sweat prickles your skin. 

“scared?” he whispers, voice barely perceptible.

“no,” you lie. you hope he doesn’t know the true root of your fear; the sinking possibility that he could find out just how much you’re enjoying this. how much you’ve been dying to be this close to him for the last few weeks. 

“liar,” he mutters. he’s still listening. “it’s mcgonagall out there,” he says.

“how can you tell?” you ask. the darkness has heightened your other senses, but you’re not as observant nor perceptive as he is. at least not with him pushing you against the wall like this.

“dunno, the cadence of her footsteps or something. remus can probably explain it better than i can. i just know.”

“you just know,” you say simply.

“mhmm,” he hums in agreement. “i just know a lot of things.”

“like what?”

there’s a second of loaded, thick silence. the air is thick enough that you swear you can feel it wrapping around you, suffocating you.

“like how much you’re enjoying this.”

“what?!” your voice is more of a hiss than a whisper, and he shushes you gently. 

“careful, pet,” he says, “want mcgonagall to find us like this?”

“we’re not doing anything,” you say, embarrassed.

he chuckles darkly. “not yet.”

sirius presses closer to you, his body pinning yours against the door. a gasp escapes you, your mouth hanging open as his hand finds your chin, lifting your face towards his. “such a pretty noise, doll,” he says. you can hardly see him, but you can imagine the look on his face from his tone. his eyes dark, lips quirked in a pleased expression, eyelids hooded. 

“sirius,” you say, though it sounds more pleading than you intended.

“gonna start begging for me already?” there’s that laugh again, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. 

you’re burning up, embarrassed that you’re so needy already. you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, enjoying your least-favorite person pinning you against the wall in an old supply closet. not to mention your professor stalking the hall just outside the door. your head spins. 

“shut up,” you mumble, though you don’t mean it. you squirm, taking a breath as you feel his length pressed against you from behind. he sucks air in through clenched teeth at the feeling. his face dips down to meet yours, his lips catching yours in an open-mouthed kiss. he licks into your mouth, your tongues uniting messily in the middle. there’s a clash of teeth, a grunted noise from him, and strings of saliva as he pulls away for breath before he’s diving back in. you relish in the obscene sensation, the messiest, wettest kiss you’ve ever been privy to. you’re enjoying every second of it, however naughty it may be. 

your stomach flutters, enjoying the sharp dig of his other hand gripping your hip. another soft noise from you, into his mouth. he groans, his long fingers still holding your face in place. he pulls away, lips swollen and chin coated with saliva. he trails wet kisses down your jawline, biting at the tender skin of your neck. you rock back against him, your core throbbing as he muffles a low noise in the back of his throat. 

“fuck,” he slurs, breathing heavily already. “you don’t know how bad i want to fuck that smart fucking mouth…” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear. “shut you up for once…”

you’re throbbing at his words, aching so bad that you’d get on your knees and beg him just to touch you. you’d do it yourself, even, if only he’d talk you through it. but sirius has other plans, clearly as desperate as you are.

“please,” the soft croak of your voice has him grinning at you. you can faintly see the outline of his wolfish smile, his hazy eyes as he looks at you.

“no time right now, pet,” he grinds his hips against you, still fully clothed. his bulge is rock-hard against your ass. he’s grunting softly, running his hands up and down your body. his fingers grasp your breasts, roughly squeezing through the material of your shirt. “wish i could take my time with you… it’ll have to wait.”

“just do something,” you mutter, growing impatient at the ache between your legs. you can feel your panties, soaked and sticking to your center with your arousal. 

“use your manners, you fucking brat,” he snarks, nipping at your earlobe.

you squeak, and he stiffens for a second. his hand slides up, wrapping around your throat. “and shut up. how many times have i got to say it?”

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whisper. the footsteps don’t come any closer. you wonder if mcgonagall is even out there at all, but your mind slips back to sirius as you feel him dragging the waistband of your trousers down. 

“keep that pretty mouth shut, pet, or i’ll shut it for you,” he warns.

you nod. you’ll do anything he says just to have him buried inside of you. you need it so bad, your entire body begging for his touch. you brace yourself, spreading your legs to allow him access as his hand delves between your legs from behind. his fingers drag through your slit, slow, spreading your juices. 

he takes a deep breath, burying his face into your neck. he’s smiling against your skin. “that pretty cunt’s just dripping f’me,” he says softly, the contrast of his filthy words and gentle tone making your head spin. “wish i could make you scream and cry for me…”

you barely register his words, flinching as he prods a finger at your entrance. he swirls it at your swollen hole, enjoying the way you jerk against him, sensitive. you bite down on your bottom lip, hard. your eyes are half-hooded, struggling to stay open as he teases you. he pushes your legs further apart, then his hand is gone. you hear the clink of his belt buckle, feel him adjusting his position behind you.

tears of pleasure prick your eyes as he sinks into you; you want to cry out, the sound threatening to rip from your chest at the slightest movement from him. he feels your whole body tense, his hold on your throat tightening. “not–” he pulls out briefly, before burying his cock to the hilt inside of you again “--a fucking sound.”

you nod, “yes, yes sir,” you breathe, as quietly as you can manage. you take trembling breaths, trying to contain yourself at the mind blowing drag of his swollen cockhead against your walls. his pace is slow, but forceful. 

his every movement is making your body tick closer to release. his thrusts are steady, wet noises squelching through the room as your juices drip down your legs. your legs are weak already, but his body pinning yours against the door is enough to keep you upright as you claw at the wood in front of you. he squeezes your throat just enough to cut off the sounds that you can’t help. his other hand finds your stomach, palm pressing into the flesh to feel the bulge of his cock buried deep inside of you. 

“god–” you breathe, throwing your head back. “can’t take it much longer…”

he makes a noise, half laugh and half moan. his voice is condescending as he says, “gonna come f’me already? pathetic little pet…” his hips rut into yours with increased force; you wince at the sudden sound of soaked slapping skin, the noises cutting through the quiet broom cupboard like a knife.

“s–slow down, sirius,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as the feeling becomes overwhelming. you slump against him, head lolling back onto his shoulder. “someone’ll hear us.”

his hips snap into yours, sharper. “won’t hear anything if you’d just listen,” he says, his voice sharp. “how many times do i need to tell you to be quiet?” his fingers snake up from your neck, two of them sliding between your swollen lips. you moan around them, your jaw going slack. 

he’s hitting the perfect spot inside of you, your vision going fuzzy as he forces you to the brink of orgasm. he doesn’t even have to touch your clit, having gotten you so worked up that he can just hammer into your g-spot and drive you over the edge. he hums his approval, dragging his teeth along your collarbone as you dissolve into moans and whimpers around his fingers. you drool around his long digits, teasing the back of your throat. you gag around them, your saliva leaking down his wrist. 

“there’s m’good li’l pet, being so quiet for me,” he praises in that mean voice. you clench forcefully around him, your entire body overtaken by waves of pleasure that send your knees crumpling completely. a gravelly moan comes from him, the repeated tightening of your walls pushing him over the edge. the feeling of him coming inside of you sends renewed waves of ecstasy through your body, your mind going blank as you lose yourself in the feeling. your mind can’t conjure a single thought except him, his hands all over you, his teeth grazing and marking your skin, his cock rearranging your insides. 

“sirius,” you gasp, appreciating the strength of his grip on you as he helps you regain your footing. he plants a kiss against a dark spot on your neck as he holds you upright. there’s a second where the two of you catch your breath, the quiet overwhelming after the overload of emotions you just experienced. he pulls out of you, and you whimper softly at the emptiness. you struggle to adjust your trousers, smartening yourself. 

“i wasn’t too mean, was i?” he brushes a sweat-soaked strand of hair from your forehead.

you smile gently, shaking your head. “you’ve been much meaner, trust me.”

he laughs. “seems like i’ve fucked the attitude out of you.”

“watch yourself, black.”

“right,” he nods, looking a bit flustered at the sharp look on your face. then, he says, “still up for sneaking into the kitchens?

#sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #marauders era fic #marauders smut #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #smut #slb.works

[awritingotaku]

The Unspoken Rules of Tumblr

As explained by someone who joined around 2019

Tumblr for all intents and purposes is not like other social media websites. Think the “I’m not like other girls” but they are not like other girls and it’s for the better. Having lurked around different social media platforms for years, I picked up on the spoken and unspoken rules that make this website more bearable than other ones. So here’s a list that will be important to new users.

Block but do not engage. Yes the rule that is understood by much of the user base and I think actually is one of the reasons why fandoms here are actually not that bad. If you remember any rule off this list, make it be this one. Why is this rule so important? Because flame wars often don’t change minds and it just creates a toxic environment. If you find someone that infuriates you, don’t attack them and just block. If they are really bad and pose a threat to people, collect evidence and do a warning post explaining why that person is dangerous but still block them.

Everyone here is a clown, even the famous ones. There is no superiority here. The number of followers you have often connects to how much of a clown you are. Now being a clown here isn’t always bad, many famous ones here make people’s days with their posts, but it’s not a contest here. In fact, fame is often considered a curse and once you have engrained yourself into the collective unconscious, you will mainly be remembered for why you became a famous tumblr clown.

Please hide your likes and follows. Don’t know how that started but it’s a thing here.

Likes do nothing, instead reblog. If it doesn’t fit the theme of your main blog, make a side blog for your reblogs.

Use tags. Tags are key here for both as a blog runner and blog reader. It allows you to quickly sort through things and see what you posted.

You don’t have to censor words like die or sex. We instead have trigger warnings tags that people can specifically block out if they don’t want to see content with stuff like that.

You want to been seen and see cool things, the algorithm is not going to do that for you. Instead you have to actively seek out what tags and blogs to follow to get the content you want. It’s more human and unlike most social media you gotta interact with people. If your feed is negative, it’s likely due to who you follow.

Don’t have a blank blog, the obvious bot usernames, or default profile pics. We are so used to fighting bots that we will auto block because of these. Some bots if you just try to click their username will get you viruses so we are careful.

Never forget the tumblr roots. Superwholock while often thought long dead still has a lasting memory here. It’s the websites heritage. Also add Hannibal and My Little Pony.

There is no cringe here for the most part. X Reader writers are just as valid as the artists here. We are all clowns because we are on this site.

Be kind and remember, people are just as human as you.

This has been you guide to Tumblr! I hope you enjoy this hellsite as much as I have.

#please reblog #tumblr #tumblr guide #tumblr tips #new user guide #tumblr rules #otaku speaks #be kind #do your part

[milfjuulpod]

Guidance, Ch II

lunch, coffee, perfume, emails

read chapter one here

A/N: heyyyy sorry for my absence my writers block is insane rn….anyways i hope y’all enjoy the second chapter, lmk how u feel abt it and what u wanna see! also- i have posted both of these chapters on my ao3, same username. ok here u go bye

-

The office you resided in was dark, a soft light illuminating from the computer screen, gentle music playing from its speakers. The desk was littered with papers, folders, notes, pens—it was quite the mess. Ava had dropped off a stack of reports on students, those who were falling a bit behind and needed a bit of help. So naturally, you quickly got to work. You knew when you arrived at Abbott that you wanted to help as much as possible, and there was no point in waiting to get started. Sure, it was only the first couple of weeks, but you figured it was best to get a head start on things.

Thus, you launched yourself into work. Most of these students had struggled all last year, and you decided to take some preventative measures to help both the students and teachers. Organizing the files into different piles, you heard a knock at the door. You invited whoever it was inside, and were met with a delightful surprise. “Hi Melissa, how can I help you?” You asked, taking your eyes off of the mess sprawled in front of you. “I think you might be the one who needs help, kid, what's all of this?” She asked, almost laughing at how disheveled your workspace was.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, as Melissa took place in the seat across from you. “Ava dropped off some files on students, so I’m trying to make plans for them for this year.” She looked at you with such care at that moment, before returning to her usual demeanor. “Well don’t run yourself into the ground before we get halfway into the school year, I have a feeling your desk is gonna look like this a lot,” she teased. You replied with a quiet yes, and went to turn the music down before Melissa stopped you.

“Hold on, is that Italian?” She asked, trying to hide the smile on her face. Glancing at the screen, you realized what was playing. “Yeah, it's called Salvatore, by Lana Del Rey, I listen to this song a lot.” Her smile grew at your statement, and took mental note of it. At this point, you wondered why Melissa came in here, she still has yet to say. As if she read your mind, she spoke again. “I came to bring this to you, I had some extra and wasn’t sure if you’d eaten already, and I’m gonna guess you haven’t,” She gestured to the desk once again before setting down a tupperware in front of you. As she stood up to take her leave, she said, “I hope you like this Italian food as much as you like listening to the language,” and walked out of your office. You felt nearly as warm as the food sitting in front of you. 

       

When five p.m. rolled around, you figured it was about time to call it. Many plans were made for students, the rest would have to wait until tomorrow. You packed up your things to leave, when you remembered the tupperware sitting on the edge of your desk. Melissa’s tupperware. Hoping she didn’t leave, you grabbed it and rushed to her door. Unfortunately, her lights were off and the door was locked. Looks like that will have to wait until tomorrow too. 

      On the way out, you were stopped by Janine. “Hey! how’s the first week going?” She asked, excited as ever. You told her about the work you had done, and what was still left to do. “I just gotta take this home and wash it now, it’s Melissa’s.” Janine’s eyes widened at that statement, making you feel like maybe you said something you shouldn’t have. “Oh, Melissa gave you that? It took weeks before she even remembered my name, let alone give me something,” She shuffled on her feet nervously. “I hope she’s not trying to butter you up for anything,” Janine’s rambling was cut off by Gregory pulling up to the two of you. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

      Walking to your own car, you wondered what Janine could’ve meant by that. Melissa had been nothing but kind to you, what could possibly make her say that? Sure, the older teacher had a bit of a tough exterior, but she already took a liking to you. Janine’s words echoed in your head, and the anxiety grew as you thought about what Melissa really wanted from you. 

        

The following morning, you walked to Melissa’s classroom with her clean tupperware and coffees in hand. One for you, one for her. You were just going to return her dish, give her the coffee, and leave. Nothing more, nothing less. The crush on her was a bit ridiculous at this point, you barely knew the redhead, and yet you wanted nothing more but to learn everything. Knocking lightly on the door, you let yourself in. “Good morning, you left yesterday before I could give this back to you. Oh, and here’s a coffee as a thank you.” You greeted Melissa with excitement. Except she didn’t match the energy, at all. She didn’t even look up from her computer as she quietly said “thank you.” 

        Okay, maybe you were planning on staying a bit longer and chatting with her before getting to your own work, and you felt a bit defeated. Silently, you left the classroom and walked to your own office, wondering if Janine was right about Melissa. It was hard to focus on work feeling this way, and slowly, but surely, it was lunch time. Opting to work through it, you didn’t visit the break room with everyone else. You missed Melissa anxiously looking for you in the break room. But her best friend didn’t. 

        

“Why do you keep looking at the door? Are you waiting for someone?” Barbara asked the woman next to her. Melissa glanced at the cameras, before deciding to lie. “Uh, no. Just…paying attention. You can never be too careful.” Barbara knew what that tone meant, but decided to let it go. Playing the events from this morning back in her mind, Melissa felt a little bad for ignoring you, and this made her upset. Why did she care? 

      “You’re shaking the whole table bouncing your leg, Melissa. What’s going on?” Barbara questioned. Melissa just sighed in response and leaned back in her chair. With a stern look from her friend, she started talking. “I don’t know. That new guidance counselor came by this morning to return my tupperware and I was busy so I didn’t really say much. And then she just left, but what was I supposed to do? She got me coffee too, I didn’t even realize until she was gone. It was good though, I haven’t been to the place she got it from. Maybe I should ask her where it is? Or…I don’t know…” The redhead trailed off. Across from her, Barbara tried her best to hide the shock from hearing her friend’s words. 

       “Why are you overthinking this? I’m sure she’s fine and wouldn’t mind you inquiring about the coffee. Go, before the break is over and I have to hear about this all over again tomorrow morning.” Barbara laughed as Melissa rolled her eyes, but she stood up to go searching. 

     

  You, on the other hand, decided to pick up a sandwich from the corner store across the street for lunch. Upon returning, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you opened the office door. “Melissa! Oh good god you scared me, what are you doing in here?” You whisper-screamed, adrenaline still rushing for a moment. “I had a question for ya,” she replied, so casually. As if it was normal for her to sneak into your office while you were out. Come to think of it, you remember locking the door, how exactly did she get in?

       “A question that couldn’t wait for me to get back from the store? And that’s my chair, scooch it,” You set the sandwich on the desk and leaned against it as well waiting for Melissa to move out of your seat. She didn’t. “Sorry for being so short with you this morning, kid. I was a little overwhelmed with making plans for both of my classes, but thank you for the coffee, that was sweet.” She smiled at you sincerely, and if this is what you get for buying her a coffee, it might become a daily thing. “Where did you get it by the way?”

        “Oh! It’s this new place that just opened up by my apartment, Opus. I’ve been a few times already, might become a regular there,” you told her. “Yeah, that makes two of us.” Melissa stood up to leave, and without thinking, you grabbed her hand to stop her. “Wait! Did you say both of your classes? You have two?” 

        Melissa was visibly surprised at your physical touch, but she didn’t pull back either. “Yeah, a combined second and third grade class. Gonna be a great year,” She informed you, rolling her eyes in the process. You let go of her hand finally and took in what she said. “If you need any help, with lesson plans or grading, you know where to find me.” 

        The teacher took your hand again and gently squeezed it before letting go, “Thanks hon, I’ll keep that in mind. And next time you need lunch, you know where to find me,” She said with a smirk before walking out the door. Sitting down, you took in the smell of her perfume that coated the area for a few moments more. The sweet scent was quickly forgotten when you looked at your computer screen. Many emails, forgotten assignments, but what caught your eye immediately, was a new email, from Melissa of all people. 

       Forgot to ask while I was still with you, but would you want to meet this afternoon or later this week to help me with some planning? Maybe we can enjoy a coffee inside the shop this time. Let me know. 

-Melissa Schemmenti

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fics #wlw #reader fic #melissa hours #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you

[in-my-feels-probably]

Could u do an imagine where reader's hair is red and daemon's absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you.

Would u consider doing an imagine where its basically daemon and the reader have a love /hate relationship but then they confess their love when Daemon comes back from tbe StepStones

My Fire

Request: Could u do an imagine where reader’s hair is red and daemon’s absolutely obsessed with it?Thank you

Hi! I love this request, it’s so cute. I wish I had red hair, I’ve dyed it a wine color before, but I’m considering dying it a copper color at some point. I didn’t know if you wanted bright red hair, or something like ginger, so I left it kinda up to the reader, I hope that’s ok. Also, I made the reader fem, and a friend of Rhaenyra from another house, so I could make sense of the reader's hair color. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

And yes, I can write that other request, just submit an ask with any ideas or details you want and I’ll add it to the list.

(Warnings: i don't think there are any, maybe an ooc daemon, let me know if i missed any)

—

Rhaenyra had finally convinced you to let her braid your hair, framing pieces around your face and twisting the strands into intricate designs all around your head. You normally kept it simple, and out of your face, pulled back neatly. 

With the amount of time you spent with Rhaenyra, often on dragonback, you didn’t have the time to fiddle with your hair, as it would get tangled anyway. 

Even then, you had no great love for your hair. The high born boys of your house often made fun, teasing you about the color. As you grew older, the boys turned to men, and the comments became a lot cruder. Rhaenyra, ever the fiery spirit, always had your back. You were a handful of years older than her, and it was quite funny to see a little girl instill fear in boys twice her height. Although, you supposed that had more to do with her father being the King, and her Uncle, who had quite the reputation, being fiercely protective over the pair of you.

Rhaenyra often begged to have you let her do something with your hair, so you could hold your head high and walk with confidence, and you finally caved to her incessant pestering. And you had to admit, you did look quite nice when she finished. 

“You have plans with my Uncle today, do you not?” Rhaenyra asked, smirking.

You raised a brow, watching her grin. “You’re such a little meddler! Is that why you kept asking? I swear, you’re too much like your Uncle.”

“That’s why you love him,” she laughed, blocking her face from the pillow you slung her way. “And he loves your hair, you know that. Why hide it from him?”

You groaned, hiding your heated cheeks in your palms. “Gods, you really are like him. I bet he put you up to this. You two are always a recipe for a disaster. You could take down the Seven Kingdoms if you put your mind to it.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Bold plans, for a later time. For now…you have to meet with my Uncle. Off you go, now.”

She shooed you away from her, blowing a kiss in your direction. You rolled your eyes, opening her chamber door. “I’ll get you back for this. And him too. You both have nothing on me. You should be scared!”

You accepted Ser Harwin’s arm as he closed the door behind you, guiding you down the steps that led towards the Dragon Pit. 

“Thank you, Ser.”

He smiled and nodded, returning to his post outside Rhaenyra’s door. “Good day, My Lady.”

You made your way to the pit, anxiously awaiting your day with Daemon. You arrived to see him standing in front of Caraxes, seemingly talking to him. You laughed to yourself, watching Caraxes find you in his sight, perking up at your presence. 

You whistled, smiling as Caraxes bristled, letting out a happy shrill that mimicked yours.

Daemon turned at the sound of your voice, a grin creeping its way onto his face at the sight of you. He smiled, a genuine rare smile, holding his hand out for you to take. 

“My Lady,” he greeted, as you stepped up to greet Caraxes. The dragon lowered his head, letting you run a light hand down his nose. 

Daemon watched you in awe, amazed at how he managed to get a girl like you. As far as he was concerned, the whole of the Seven Kingdoms paled in comparison to the woman who was akin to fire. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I was going to say you look beautiful, but that’s a bit of an understatement. You’re always beautiful.”

His smirk grew as he watched you fight the flush in your cheeks, and he continued on to save you from the embarrassment of stuttering like a fool in front of him, which he regularly made you do.

“I see Rhaenyra finally got her hands on you,” he said, twisting a loose curl around his finger. 

“She did,” you nodded. “I’m not quite sure what her fascination with it is. Who knows how many times I’ve wished for hers. Your family has beautiful hair. I’ve hardly ever met anyone with mine, aside from a few Tully’s. Even so, theirs is auburn, they blend in well enough. I might as well have lit a flame atop my head.”

“That’s a good thing. Everyone else is dreadfully boring. You stand out.” 

Daemon was still transfixed with your hair, twirling it around his finger. You watched him, amused.

“I suppose so. As do you. But yours is regarded as royal. It shines like a silver star. What is mine like? A..uh, a–”

“A dragon,” He interrupted your thoughts, his eyes suddenly meeting yours. You held your breath under his icy gaze. He reassured you a second time. “Like a dragon.”

“I don’t understand.” You shook your head, confused. 

Daemon gazed down at you thoughtfully, gently moving you to stand behind him. You remained silent and followed his lead as he led you to the edge of the pit, where Caraxes had settled. He kept a protective arm in front of you, although he knew Caraxes wouldn’t harm you. 

“Caraxes,” He called, clicking his tongue to get the dragon’s attention. “Sōvegon.”

Fly.

Caraxes flapped his wings, lifting into the sky. 

“Dracarys!” 

Caraxes let a tumbling roar emerge from his throat, breathing fire into the sky above him. 

You watched in wonder, feeling the heat on your skin as the flames danced in the sky. Daemon slid his hand into yours, turning your attention back to him. 

“You’re like a dragon, with hair to match. Flames and heat, scorching to the touch. Like an inferno, embers dancing in the sky. You might not have the hair of a Targaryen, but you have the heart of one. Caraxes can sense it, and I can sense it. You’re akin to fire, like me. And it’s beautiful. Wear it with pride. Wear it with power.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, filled with overwhelming emotion. You squeezed his hand in yours, and he bent down, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Issa gevie, se iksā gevie. Ñuha mele. Ñuha perzys. Ñuha zaldrīzes.”

It is beautiful, and you are beautiful. My red. My fire. My dragon. 

You brought a palm up to rest on his cheek, swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, before running your fingers through his hair. 

“Ñuha qēlos,” you returned, watching Daemon fight the flush that crept onto his cheeks.

My star.

“Aōhon,” he nodded, holding you close to him, one of his hands finding its way back into your curls.

Yours.

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is kinda short, I’ve been really busy and haven’t had the chance to write. This was my first time writing for Daemon, I hope it’s alright. 

#house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryen imagine #daemon targaryen #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #rhaenyra targaryen imagine

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: angstyyy

Notes: Posting a day early - y’all can thank @losa12308 for catching me in a good mood, hope this helps ya feel better hun❤️

Word Count: 2130

Series Masterlist

Reader

Nearly two weeks Jacob Black has not only been ignoring and avoiding Bella, but Quil and I too. Ever since the night of the movies, since his uncharacteristically rude outburst at Mike Newton. Both of my best friends were stressed about it which in turn stresses me out. I’ve called him multiple times to leave voicemails about what he’s doing to his friends, but it was to no avail - radio silence remained.

Bella said Harry Clearwater told her it was mono, but anyone could smell that bullshit from a mile away. Did mono render you catatonic? Unable to communicate with people that care about you?

An uneasy feeling settled in my gut, it had to be more. Something was keeping him from us and I want to know what that something is.

I need to know, I can’t just lose another one…

• March 4th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

“Mom!” I shout through the empty house, trying to locate her.

A rare day we both have off to spend together and I’m about to ditch her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I hear her voice drift from the laundry room as I make my way downstairs.

Turning as the sound of my approaching footsteps, she raises her eyebrows at my appearance - noting that my state of dress isn’t exactly for a day-in at home anymore.

“Bella called, was wondering if I’d go hiking with her? I think she just needs to take her mind off of Jake and wants company.”

My moms face falls slightly, but I can tell she won’t stop me from running to my best friend’s aid, “Just be careful and take your phone.”

“Thanks mom!” I surge forward and hug her quickly before snatching my keys from the hook by the door on my way out.

“And be back before dark!”

“Of course, love you!” I shout back.

“I love you too, honey!”

I speed almost the entire way to Bella’s - wanting to get her mind off of Jake was true, but she also wanted help finding the meadow.

As in, the meadow.

Her and Edward’s meadow.

• March 4th, 2006 • Ithaca, NY •

Jasper

For months I’ve been feeling with this crack in my soul because of her and I’ve been doing it alone. Admittedly it’s my own doing, but the chafing of not really having my brother in my corner has worn away at me in way that doubles the pain of the loss.

I find myself gravitating towards his closed door, something that before Ithaca would’ve been an odd sight, and knocking on the thin wood.

“Go away.” The words rumble in his distinct baritone just loud enough for me to hear.

“No.” I answer simply, just as tired.

The door whips open in a flash and his eyes send a shock through me. Not because they’re dark with hunger - but dark with anger. And his emotions reflect it threefold.

“What do you want?” His tone raises my hackles, reminding me that my brother isn’t one to be messed with in a mood like this one.

A delicate hand curls up and around his chest, the owner of it completely blocked from view by his massive frame, and he visibly deflates. His anger dialing back a fraction at the influence of just her touch.

A slice of pain lances through me, regret or just plain loneliness at this point I’m not sure.

“Hear him out.” Rose orders him softly, kissing him on the cheek as she slips out from behind him and meets my eyes before disappearing down the hall. “Good luck.”

I reign in the laugh that threatens to bubble up at her throwing me to the wolves, but it’s another thing I’m doing to myself of my own free will, I need my brother.

Holding open the door wider for me to enter, he turns on his heel and deposits himself into the loveseat across from the tv, some muted football game flashing on it.

“I miss you and I’m sorry.” I unload on him with no preamble. No drawn out apology has ever been a requirement of his, short and to the point always a favorite to him.

A dark laugh thunders from him in a way that crushes me even more, “That’s it?”

I nod, I had thought about this conversation for months since he started avoiding me, but all my rehearsed words vacate me.

“That’s one hell of an apology.” The remote emits a small crack as his anger continues to boil. “I got no say, no one wanted to hear me out, and I’m just supposed to suck it the fuck up and just go with the flow of what’s best for the family.” He’s practically vibrating with barely constrained rage, but I let him continue. “She’s not just yours, Jasper.”

A shock jolts me for the second time, his sadness tugging at my heart heavily.

“She’s yours and that’s what makes her mine.” I can tell my confusion spurs Emmett on and he rises from the couch, “As your brother, it’s my responsibility to be her protector and you fucking ripped that away from me. You’re hurting her on purpose and it’s hurting me.”

I’m speechless as his words sink in. Familial-like bonds in a coven as old as ours are strong, but I had no idea.

“She was also my best friend-my little sister. I told her I would be there for her and you’re making me break my promise - something I’ve never fucking done.” Turning away from me to pace in a very non-Emmett move, “Are you going to say anything?”

“I had no idea-”

“You never considered, never noticed, never asked. It’s only been you in pain. You and Edward. You don’t even see what it does to Alice every time you ask her to check on Y/n.”

Her name sends agony anew through me, a thin knife that slices flesh from bone with surgical precision.

“I’m scared.” He would’ve missed my whisper if it weren’t for his supernatural hearing.

“Scared of what?” He’s before me in a flash, gripping my shoulders. “Scared of loving her?”

“Scared of her loving me! Scared of hurting her!” The house falls into dead silence, listening. “You’ve never known terror like this with Rose! You’re not afraid to kill her just from being around her, smelling her, touching her. You have no restrictions, no boundaries!” Tears of venom swirl my vision, but refuse to fall.

I push him off me and turn, attempting to reign in my distress.

“Bro-”

“I can’t do this without you. It’s like wave after wave of grief and I’m at my limit Emmett.” The seriousness in my tone softens him, love and compassion flow from him in a way that feels like his old self and it loosens the tension inside me a fraction.

“I may be angry with you, but I’ll never leave you.” My brother spins me around and engulfs me in his signature bear-hug.

Esme may be the mother of our group, but Emmett is the glue holding us all together. I’d be drowning without my brother and if his death-grip of a hug is any indication, he knows it.

• March 4th, 2006 • Forks, WA •

Reader

“I’m pretty sure we passed that tree two times in the last hour, Bells.” Tromping behind my best friend, I keep my eyes fixed down to prevent myself from tripping over the dense foliage.

“We’re close, I just know it.” There’s a desperate edge to Bella’s voice that stops my teasing and squeezes my heart, I know that feeling. To be grasping for something out of reach to link me back to him.

Pushing through a particularly thick cluster of low-lying branches, I smack face first into Bella’s backpack.

“Bella, you can’t just stop-” Finally my surroundings make sense and I realize we’ve found it. It’s brown and sad as fuck, but we actually found it.

I spin, taking in every inch of the dead meadow as Bella drops to the ground, fingers clutching the crunchy grass. Facing the middle again, I gasp at the figure standing before us, the sound startling Bella into a standing position next to me.

“Bella and Y/n.”

“Laraunt.” His name is a choked gasp on my best friend’s lips.

“I didn’t expect to find either one of you here.” He begins pacing casually in front of us “I went to visit the Cullen’s, but the house is empty? I’m surprised they left you both behind. Weren’t you both sort of… pets of theirs?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that.” Bella answers him as I reach for her hand, a sort of dread sinking in as I think over his words and what he might be getting at.

“Do the Cullen’s visit often?”

You need to leave, darlin’. He’s not safe.

“Yeah absolutely - all the time.” Bella’s lie causes the hair on the back of my neck to raise.

“We’ll tell them you stopped by.” I chime in, trying to make it seem believable and also trying to keep the shaking from my voice - both from the deadly turn of the conversation and from hearing his voice in my head.

“I probably shouldn’t - Edward,” the name rolling of her tongue has her squeezing my hand in pain, “Because he’s pretty protective.”

“But he’s far away, isn’t he? They both are.”

Terror begins to flood my chest, he’s making sure we’re alone.

“Why are you here?” Bella flips the questioning onto Laraunt.

“I came as a favor… To Victoria.” His answer practically stops my heart and I know he can hear it.

“Victoria.” The whisper slips from me without a second thought.

“She asked me to see if either of you were still under the protection of the Cullens. Victoria feels it’s only fair to kill Edward’s and Jasper’s mates, given they killed her’s.” His eyes flicked between us, no doubt sensing the blow of both of their names. “An eye for an eye.”

“Edward would know who did it! And he’d come after you.”

Threaten him.

“Jasper would hunt both of you down.” My emotions fill my voice, the threat not as potent as it could be.

“I don’t think they will. After all, how much could you mean to them if they left you here, unprotected?” The vampire sighs, like he’s actually fucking torn, “Victoria won’t be happy about my killing you, but I can’t help myself - both of you are so mouth watering.”

“Please don’t, y-you helped us-” Bella begins to panic, but he flashes directly in front of us with his speed, fingers reaching for our faces.

“Shhh-shhh, don’t be afraid! I’m doing you a kindness - Victoria plans on killing you slowly, painfully. Whereas I’ll make it quick. I promise, you’ll feel nothing.”

“Edward I love you.” Bella’s confession slips as I close my eyes and squeeze her hand in mine. At least we go together, right?

“I can’t believe it.” The awe in Laraunt’s voice opens my eyes as twigs begin snapping in the tree line behind us.

One large wolf, black as night, emerges from the forest. Large being a gross understatement - more like the size of a fucking horse. Behind the massive animal emerges more of the same, although slightly smaller, but no less scary.

A pack of wolves. A pack of supernaturally huge wolves.

And they’re facing down a vampire, no less.

A vampire on a mission to kill us.

Run.

The command zings through me and takes charge. I yank on Bella’s arm as Laraunt bats away the first wolf like it was nothing, it’s yelp stunning her into action.

The panicked sprint through the woods for her truck is much faster this time than the hike out, neither of us stopping or looking back.

Afraid to see if anything was giving chase.

Afraid to see if the wolves didn’t buy us time.

The ride back to Bella’s was tense to say the least. Too stuck in my own head to even say anything to her, the terror still coursing through my veins keep my mouth shut and fists clenched. What if Laraunt got away from them? What if he was still hunting us?

I never realized until now how scary it is, not having the supernatural protection of the Cullens.

I never realized that I took for granted the safety Jasper surrounded me with. Well, used to surround me with.

The sour thought sends another all-too-familiar painful zap through my chest.

As soon as Bella pulls into her drive, I hop out and climb into my own as she runs inside, probably to tell her dad about the absolutely massive wolves lurking in Forks’ woods.

Wolves that might’ve just saved our lives.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #jasper hale #female reader insert

[mrsshabana]

PLEASE QUEEN, I need answers, in your post talking about some wip's that you were thinking about, I saw "shark", I hope I'm not hallucinating, but please, can you tell me a little about it??🏃🏃🏃

Omg yes! I'm so happy you asked about this one! The shark au is something me and @lilliumteaandbeez came up with. We have a ton of lore we came up with together, though I don't have much written for it. I believe I wrote this in February, and it isn't much but I'll share what I have!

More about Sharktaro though, he is also a siren! So, for the people that have been asking me for a siren au, this is the start of it.*･♡

✧:･ﾟ→ My WIP's

𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Your motion sensored camera got activated last night.

That’s why you find yourself trudging through a light rain shower, stepping through heaps of wet sand and over slippery rocks. 

The camera had been set up in an alcove seated on the beach. A small cave sits on the edge of the ocean, with a deep pool of water seated in the middle of it. But deeper into the cave, the water becomes more shallow, and there is a rocky ledge circling the edge of the water, perfect for you to set up your camera to observe the unusual alcove.

It was for research of course. As a marine biologist you are always searching for unique phenomena. With this particular experiment, you were hoping to catch seals using this alcove as a shelter when hiding from circling sharks. But instead you were notified in the middle of the night by a strange photo being captured.

You couldn’t quite make out what it was. It was blurry and dark. The creature looked long like a seal but it almost appeared as though it had sharp claws. Having no idea what it could be, you are filled with anxiety and curiosity as you arrive at the cave.

Sounds of distant thunder echo in the distance.

You turn the corner and step into the darkness. The approaching storm blocking any sunlight that may have illuminated your path.

Flickering on your flashlight, you point it towards the shallow end of the cave.

Before you lies a humanoid figure. Laying on its side, back facing towards you.

The bottom half of its body resembles a shark. A long blue-green tail littered with dark spots. The spots cover his entire body, even the upper half which resembles a human man. The creature has a large fin on its back and pointed ears. Its body looks emaciated, ribs moving with each shallow breath that he takes. And a mess of black and green hair sits atop his head.

The water surrounding his body is bloody, and his tail seems to have gotten tangled in a net.

“Oh my god…” you gasp under your breath. The small sound is enough to startle the creature, quickly turning around, staring right at you.

His eyes glow yellow, slit pupils dilate from the bright light. He opens his mouth to show rows of dagger sharp teeth.

A high pitched, rattling screech echos from his mouth. Hissing at you with every ounce of energy he has left, you know this is a warning. But you can’t stop yourself from walking closer to him, you want to help him. It’s in your nature to help and rehabilitate injured marine life, and a mythical merman is no exception.

As you get closer he starts to panic. Flailing his tail, showing his teeth, hissing loudly. He tries to get away but he is too tangled up. It doesn’t take long before more blood spills out of him, and he can’t muster enough energy to continue.

His eyes get heavy and his breathing becomes more shallow but his hissing persists as you stand a few feet in front of him.

“I-It’s ok,” you mutter, taking a few steps closer to him, “I’m going to try to help you.”

Throwing your backpack to the ground, you take a seat in front of him, rummaging through your bag to find any supplies that may be able to help this poor creature. You always make sure to come prepared, because out in the field accidents happen all of the time. So luckily you have an emergency medkit. It’s meant for humans but you are sure it will do the trick for the time being.

When you reach out to him he snaps at you, almost biting your arm.

“Hey! I’m trying to help you! I know you are scared, but I promise I won’t hurt you.”

You can see the hurt and fear in his eyes when he looks at you. He has no idea that you are trying to help him. But the blood spilling from his wounds is too much and he loses the ability to care. He knows that he will die soon, so he stops fighting you.

The largest wound is on his tail, near his hip. It’s a deep laceration of some kind. 

Cutting part of the net, to give you enough room to tend to his wound. You decide that stopping the bleeding is more important, and you will work on untangling him afterwards.

There is no time to waste so you hurry and disinfect the area and prep your needle. With trembling hands you begin to suture the large wound, resulting in a low, painful whimper coming from him.

“I know it hurts, but I have to do this or you will bleed out,” you console him but don’t stop stitching him up.

The skin on his tail is thick and tough, taking a lot of effort to get the needle to go through. But after lots of struggling, you manage to get the wound sutured. Taking some gauze and holding it to the wound to soak up some of the blood.

Scanning over the rest of his body, he has lots of smaller lacerations. They look like claw marks. But you can’t think of any sea creature that would have claws like that…

Once the bleeding mostly stops on the larger wound, you go to care for the other wounds. Disinfecting, covering with bandages, and suturing a few that are particularly deep. You run out of gauze pretty quickly, as he has many wounds and the moisture of his skin combined with the humidity in the air quickly dampens them.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #siren au #replies

[smellss]

collide - Sam Kerr x singer! reader social media au!

summary: Final Part to the nudged series

A/N: i’ve really enjoyed this series i hope you enjoy the last part

liked by samanthakerr20, baby/n, masiepeters and 1,680,789 others

y/noffical: a series of event since finding out this news, thank you @taylorswift for trusting me with your baby!guess i have two reasons now to stay in aus ❤️ #TheErasTour

taylorswift: it’s my honour 💜

masiepeters: THATS MY GIRL

alannahkennedy: congratulations girlie

baby/n: omg i’m so proud and EXCITED TO SEE MY GIRL ON THE BIG STAGE

mummy/n: mmm also two reasons what’s the first @y/n mmmm

zendaya: couldn’t think of someone more deserving SO EXCITED

samanthakerr20: so proud my girl ❤️

katrinagorry: our girl ma’am

samsleftboot: this is so girlfriends coded and i love it

baby/n: mums supporting mums out here

mummy/n: i think we can finally confirm this and i am HERE a for it

liked by y/noffical, katrinagorry, and 1,204,001 others

samanthakerr20: we’ll cats out of the bag thought i’d claim shes mine @y/nofficial 😏

matalidas: captain making goals on and off the field

mackenziearnold: on ya skipper

katherinegorry: i just want everyone to know i facilitated this

baby/n: YES MAAM I CANNOT BREATH

mummy/n: i retract my statement THIS IS A LAUNCH

masiepeters: very nice kerr

thegoodwitxh67: bestie approves we can only support

user456: i agree wholeheartedly

y/nofficial: oh you big sook

samanthakerr20: oh you love it

y/noffical: took you long enough sweetheart

liked by alannahkerrfav, masiepeters, zendaya and 1,290,670

y/noffical: my girls playing against france today LETS GO TILLIES 💚💛

zendaya: double dates very soon my girl 🫶

y/noffical: oh wait till we get back to the uk you won’t be able to get rid of me x

tomholland13: we’ll see how our matches go first #lionessesforthewin

samanthakerr20: ouch tom.

tomholland13: @samanthakerr20 ha ha go chelsea i can agree on

alannahkennedy: excuse me where is my special good luck post

mackenziearnold: and mine

katrinagorry: and mine

y/noffical: guys i feel ganged up on i promise i will show my love and appreciation to you later x

samanthakerr20 : and mine

y/noffical: bro what are you on

samanthakerr20: i didn’t want to feel left out

baby/n: mums are mumming and i am loving all the content

liked by katrinagorry, y/noffical and 50,678 others

alannahkennedy: was taking this cute photo of me and bean but these rands interrupted it smh

y/noffical and samanthakerr20 tagged

y/nunoffical: omggggggggg gay gay gay

samanthakerr20: @y/noffical you’re blocking my good side sweetness

y/noffical: i think you’ll find you’re eating my face

samanthakerr20: roasted 🔥🔥🔥

y/nbaby: seriously now come on get a room but also don’t…

samsleftboot: alannah absolutely dropping this bomb is so on brand

matildas: we love this for them 🫶

#sam kerr imagine #sam kerr x reader #fanfic #sam kerr fanction #samantha kerr #social media au #wlw #fire lord zuko #alta

[aroacesafeplaceforall]

hihi!

so, i imagine that you've probably gotten this question already, but whats your opinion on people shipping Alastor from Hazbin Hotel with other characters, since he's canonically aroace?

i know that Viv has said its fine to ship him, but i feel like that would be aroace erasure?? idk, but id like to hear your opinion on it :))

sincerely, someone whos on the aroace-spec but feels like they dont have a say in this kind of stuff since hes aceflux and nebularomantic 😭

Okay it’s 10:30 at night I should be sleeping and I’m on my phone while lying in bed. Prepare for an unhinged rant

Look you’re 100% part of the community! I’ll deal with your self doubt another ask BUT in my eyes no? Yes?? I’ll explain each

First the No:

No, because he’s canonically aroace. And imagine what would happen if (grabs random gay couple that’s canon) someone wrote a straight Henry from Red white and royal blue and shipped him with June: outrage and more then a little hate under posts about it. If that’s what would happen with a canon gay character then I fucking expect the same from a canon aroace character. I’m sorry you can’t ship this single character get the fuck over it

It’s an erasure of representation. Take any canon queer character and ship them with someone that doesn’t fit their canon sexuality and watch the fallout.

Treat aspec characters the way you would treat a canon gay/queer/trans/FUCKING ANYTHING character!!

That’s not to say you can’t build on an a character’s canon sexuality. for example, you could make it so Alaster is aroace flux, or that he’s grayromantic and aegosexual and also bi!

I believe if you do write him without him being aroace, then it’s a bigger issue then if you build off his pre-existing sexuality!

Acknowledging the fact that he’s aspec canonically in an authors notes would also be good

Here’s the yes

It’s fandom. You can do whatever you want. Don’t like don’t read, block and scroll on. Ignore the bigots ect ect

Viv says it’s fine to ship him.

ANYGAYS hope you enjoyed my completely understandable rant thanks

#asks #ask #aromantic #asexual #aroace #aro #ace #aro pride #ace pride #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor aroace

[fumifooms]

Hi hi! I'm sure you have loads of asks to get through. But if you may, we talk a lot about Chilchuck and Marcille (as we should 'cause they're great!), but since you've mentioned that Laios is your fave char, I would love to hear if you have any takes on Laios and Izutsumi's dynamic. I feel sometimes like she doesn't really like him...? It's funny but I also feel bad for him sometimes. ^^;;

You can’t ask me this and expect me to not drop everything else I’m doing. Little did you know they are my brotp. They are so special. Izutsumi gets along more with literally everyone in the party, but their relationship was so narratively important. They’re a really underrated and overlooked dynamic! I’ve had them as a topic at the back of my mind for a while, seeing someone else interested was all the push I needed gdbdg. This isn’t super long though, their issues with each other and lil arc is surprisingly brief and easy to summarize.

Laios & Izutsumi : what’s their deal with each other

For me one foundational train of thought for Izutsumi & Laios is, well. I read this awesome smart post deconstructing how Izutsumi’s beef with Laios is because she only just broke free and wants freedom without having someone ordering her around, and that’s sort of her whole character arc, isn’t it?

Isn’t Izutsumi’s picky eating a reflection of just that? In a life where she was a slave, she could at least control what she chose to eat and not eat. But then you might wonder, why did the narrative want her to grow out of that? Simply put, Izutsumi has a contrarian streak, one that is often extremely counterproductive. We saw that especially near the beginning, with how hard it was to make her work with them as a team. The issue is that now that she is free, she needs to not block out others by habit, to not lash out and refuse the healthy things in life, the people who want good for her. And that’s something that’s addressed in the succubus chapter as well as the fight against the ice golem, that she shouldn’t insist that she can do everything alone and fight against any team effort.

I love how onesided the Laios izutsumi dynamic is. He stays away from her generally, like doesn’t interact much, but he wants the cat pats… Which Izu made clear she did NOT want. And Chil is the only one in the party to not really see her as a cat for most of the story really, as shown in the relationship chart. He’s well meaning and wants the best for her, but he crowds her and doesn’t understand her at all. But he reallyyy wants to get along with her.

On the other hand, Izutsumi’s very existence and identity gave Laios an immense amount of hope that Falin could be brought back and still be herself and live well, even if she still had part of a dragon’s soul in her. I think that’s a lovely way to contrast the way that Izutsumi hates herself as a beastkin and her body, while Laios is like "Thank you, your existence as you are is the answer to all my worries" AND he super likes monster bodies and beastkins so it’s like. I think part of her hostility to him, besides feeling like he doesn’t understand her perspective and is maybe dismissive of what his party members want (which would remind her of Maizuru to some degree probably), is that he says all these good things about her being a beastkin, and it’s so jarring with her own version of herself that it raises her hackles and she reacts negatively, especially with how flippant and eager he is about it. But yes like, this is their first meeting!! Beyond his interest in her as a beastkin because of his monster hobby, Laios is just so very grateful for her and chooses to put his trust in her.

That’s interesting too, how one of the first things she asks about upon meeting them is why the hell they would want to rescue Falin even if she were to stay as a chimera-beastkin and still have the dragon soul in her. It’s her asking "Who would want to stick with a beastkin?" thinking that there’s something fundamentally wrong with having two souls and it making you unlovable. And their differing views on monsters do make them clash

But ultimately he chills out about her, which ironically enough shows in the way that they don’t interact much- He gives her space, and accepts that the beastkin may not like him. BUT at the end of the day they have an incredible bond of trust- Laios asks Izutsumi to kill him if something goes wrong with the Winged Lion. Not only is that sort of an intimate request and act, but that means that he leaves it up to Izutsumi’s judgement as well to know if it went wrong and when to act. He doesn’t only trust her skills but also her decision making, despite how tough they’ve been on each other in the past. He’s giving her the ultimate role, the go ahead to make or break their plan and be the difference between saving or destroying the world. And the last tidbit of info we get on their relationship in canon is when she hides behind him because she’s shy- Certified having befriended the cat moment. She trusts him and sees him as a safe person! And by saying that she’s shy, he’s showing that he did end up understanding her and how she is.

No matter the rocky parts of their relationship, they still have a strong foundation to it and were great allies and road companions, one of the few persons that had each other’s back when it mattered the most, both for the world and for their personal arcs. And post-canon, well…

He’s accepted that she needs space and whatnot, and meanwhile she’s accepted his interest in monsters and taken it in stride 😌 They end up having this familiarity with each other and even if there’s still a bunch of emotional distance imo and they never really got into the nitty gritty with each other not like her with Chilchuck or even Marcille, they see each other. They nod in greeting and respect each other from afar……. But also still tease and chat familiarly up close and if she offers him the opportunity for cuddles he will take it. You know, if it’s not her just falling onto him because she’s sleeping she has no respect.

Siblings behavior… If you know my take on the general party dynamics, I love thinking of Laios & Izu’s dynamic as him being an older brother figure where they have a love-hate relationship. Siblings rivalry. I have a bunch of funny little doodles I’ve wanted to make with them for months, the prompts for which are in the screenshot put below. But yeah like you know, they’re protective of each other but in that very critical way as well, truly forged by being stuck with each other for a while and having to come to understand and accept how the other is. Strife with conflict, but ultimately sticking with each other through thick and thin… Siblings siblings SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS. Sigh I just want them to cuddle on a couch and she purrs while simultaneously being snide and mean to him, they are so… Izutsumi is the character ever

Oh, which! While I’m here, I always recommend this fanfic about the two of them interacting and Laios treating her like a cat, it’s just fun and lighthearted. They’re suuuuch an underrated duo

If I find more Laios & Izu moments I think are worth sharing I’ll just add it onto this I think. We shouldn’t be too hard on him he was raised by dogs so cats are a whole other language to him but also, so wild to me that he never tried to engage with her on a cat level properly like where is the hissing at the catgirl and the cat taming moments, he sucks at socializing with cats smh smh.

I want to do an analysis of queerness in Dungeon Meshi with relationships and social norms and stuff and Izutsumi’s arc is gonna be central to that too. Her relationship with EVERYONE is SOOO GOOD AND IMPORTANT AND COMPELLING. But I guess this is where I leave it off for now, I hope I’m not forgetting any point I wanted to make hmmm

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #Spoilers #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #izutsumi #laios touden #laizu brotp #Analysis #relationship analysis #Idk idk. Scene analysis #arc analysis #Fumi rambles #This is my brother and this is my sister! We are siblings and we care for each other! #What’s that? We have a younger sister. You thought we were two but there is another. Come on Izu snap out of that trance it’s time to do #THE SIBLINGS DANCE #Ask #Falin & Izutsumi would be so good too actually #That “you can trust your sibling to kill you if needed” thing where it’s even more relevant bc of Laios and faligon GGDBDKDB #Killing someone for their own good is siblings coded in dunmeshi real?? /j

[choccy-milky]

Hi babe, just read what u published about getting hate on Clora from your latest chapter.

I just wanted to say that there’ll always be people that will throw HATE - on your oc - story- decisions u make for your fanfic-story-character. The important thing here is to know where you stand, what u like, how u want your characters-story to be headed. I knoooow for a fact that is jealousy, towards you, your creativity, your imagination, and they just wanna be “cool”.

I’ve followed u for a time now ( and sorry I’ve always wanted to message you saying how awesome u are 🥲 but didn’t have the courage to do so… but this drew the line! ) and how you manage to portray the feelings, story and the character’s personalities is truly unique. U👏KEEP👏DOING👏THAT👏.

In my country we say “take the things from who says them” ( poor translation sorry ) it basically means take the comments and opinions from the people who know about the topic, from people that are important to you, from people you admire, etc. Not from those kind of people who CLEARLY have NO CLUE about the HP plot 😅 which like u said, it revolves about sacrifice and love, or just for the art of hating an -awesome- OC. Like, c’on we’re too old for this hating on one and other 😒.

I know it’s upsetting. BUT: Keep on shining. Keep on giving Clora her vibrant and wonderful personality that u both share. Keep working hard. Keep creating.

I’m sending all my love and support from a remote corner of Earth. 💖🫶

PS. Sorry for the long AF message. Toodaloo!😘

AWW TY BABE SRSLY💖💖💖 im so happy youve been enjoying my art/story/following me for so long!!!😭💖💖

and you're 100000% right, i need to just focus on the positive and people who enjoy my content and who are kind to me and whose opinions i respect 😭💖LIKE YOU!!💖💖and ik people might just then accuse me of surrounding myself in an echo chamber of yes men who just are nice to me bc i cant take criticism BUT HEY!! what else am i supposed to do for my mental health? if you dont like clora or my story/art or w.e else, just block me and curate your feed and move on and dont think about me anymore, the same way im trying to do for my own wellbeing. im lucky enough to have lot of ppl like my art and story but that doesnt mean i signed some agreement to have people be rude to me and i just have to take it with a smile. like naw my guy, i have ANXIETY UP THE WAZOO!! and im allowed to block and delete and respond to stuff like that when it upsets me too ALSO THANK YOU AS WELL @jodiswiftle 💖💖im so happy youre enjoying my fic sm. i got your ask but i hope you dont mind me just addressing it here, bc i dont wanna keep drawing attention to this and keep making separate posts about it/the negativity and i want this to be the last one. but IT REALLY DOES MEAN A LOT, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PASSIONATE RANT OF AFFECTION BAHAHA IT RLY CHEERED ME UP TOO 💖💖🥹

#i got another pretty nasty comment so this rly cheered me up THANK UUU #i just wanna draw and write and be in my little hermit cave #and also play video games and drink coke zero #can u tell i love coke zero #ask

[parvulous-writings]

Don’t push it. // Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: You nurse an ill, and very reluctant Miguel

Warnings: I’m bad at Spanish, Miguel has a cold and is grumpy git. Gender neutral terms used around reader to the best of my ability! 

Words: 2.3K

Notes:  Am I somewhat out of it? Yes. Shush.  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!   If you’d like to support me more, consider donating to my kofi! I’d appreciate it loads!!  

Not my gif

It wasn’t uncommon for Miguel to be grumpy; the stress of everything pertaining to the multiverse weighed heavily on him. He could not have what happened to him, that gut-wrenching loss of life, happen to anyone else. He would make sure that everything stayed in order, that canon events happened when they were meant to, that all spider-people were on the same trajectory. The task and the past that it stemmed from weighed heavily on him, always. So, statistically, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he started developing cold symptoms - he was under so much stress that his ability to fight off illness had been heavily affected. He found the symptoms mildly annoying to begin with, but since he was still able to continue his work without much impairment, he did so, trying to make sure he did as much as he would normally do even though he could feel his nose getting steadily more and more blocked.  After a few hours, an ache began to make itself known on his forehead; a massive headache. Miguel tried to power through this, too, but steadily it became very overwhelming to him. The lights - which were typically dimmed anyway due to his sensitivity to them- were starting to bug him. 

“Lyla.” 

Hell, he sounded sick, like he was pushing his voice past it’s limit. 

“Turn out the lights.” 

Without a word, everything went black, asides from the soft orange glow of the screens around him. Typically, Lyla would have given him a quip, or a joke in retaliation, but she didn’t even try this time, she could tell he was too ill for things like that. She appeared near his shoulder, only just in his peripheral vision. “You’re not looking too hot, y’know... You want me to call someone?”  “No.”  “You should-”  “I said no.” He replied gruffly again, “Just let me get on with my work.” He shirked his shoulder, as if Lyla actually physically stood there. The hologram tapped her chin, pouting slightly as she thought - well, as much as she could think at least. She knew exactly the course of action she’d have to take here. 

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen side, prolonged and repetitive - the screen flashing with the caller ID: Lyla ✨. She had added the emoji herself a while ago, and you hadn’t had the heart to remove them. If Lyla was trying to contact you without just randomly materialising in front of you, something was off. You didn’t need Spidey-sense to know that it would be about Miguel. You tapped the screen a couple of times, answering the call and putting it on speaker, so you could continue in the kitchen, making yourself some lunch.  “Go on, Lyla, fill me in.” You said to her. “Well...” Lyla began, drawing out the syllable an almost humorous amount of time. “Miguel is ill, and he’s refusing to rest or take a break. I think you’re going to have to come in, to either get him to rest here, or just take him home. He’s going to tear someone’s head off if we’re not careful...” She warned. You sighed quietly, you knew she was right, even if she was slightly exaggerating.  “Alright... Give me ten minutes, okay?” And with that, the call finished. You quickly got through your food, before putting on your shoes and heading out of the apartment, hoping to catch one of the speeding trains to the edge of the city. One of the perks of getting to reside in Nueva York, was that there was at least somewhat easy access to the place where your beloved worked - and practically lived it felt like. It also helped that most of the Spiders knew you, and helped you to navigate the rather large, and confusing building. If you needed to be somewhere in the building quick, you knew you didn't have to be afraid to ask one of the many, many Spiders milling around every corner of every room in the structure. Thankfully, that wasn't the case today - you weren't entirely sure that a lot of fast paced swinging would help your food go down. Instead, you were taking one of the many elevators installed, straight up to the top of the building; of course, the dark, brooding Miguel O’Hara had to have something that could only be described as a lair. The fact that the lights were off were not helping the matter, either. 

As soon as you entered the room, you knew where he was - Miguel was always  in the same place. His shoulder twitched slightly as the doors slid open quickly for you - he had picked up the minuscule change in light. He hadn’t, however, realised it was you entering the room; one downside of not having the spider-senses so many others seemed to be blessed with. “Go away.” He gruffly called down to you, not even turning around.  “Fine way to greet your other half...” You chuckled softly, and it was then that he glanced over his shoulder, eyes wandering down to your distant silhouette.  “...Corazón... What are you..?”  “Lyla called... Come down, Miggy...” You spoke softly, not taking his former gruffness to heart. You knew he didn’t mean it, not really. He was sweet to you always - a softie through and through, beneath the rough and ragged exterior, the front that he put up in front of others, to keep them at arms length. At an almost comically slow pace, his platform began to descend. It seemed like forever had passed before Miguel was shuffling towards you. You open your arms when he gets close, and embrace him. For a moment, you both just stand in the hug, drinking in the sense of being in one another’s arms. After a minute or two, you pulled away slightly, cupping Miguel’s face carefully in your hands, subtly examining him. Miguel still noticed what you were doing, though. “Stop, mi amor... I’m fine...” He told you, bringing one of his large hands up to your own, and resting it on top. “Absolutely fine...” He reiterated, but of course, you could see it wasn’t true. His entire face was red, and hot - and you knew that for once, it wasn’t you that had caused this. You stayed quiet, thinking. How could you get him home to rest, without agitating him too much? Not an easy task, no. 

“Come home for lunch, sweetheart...” You suggested to him. “I’ll make you something special...”  He was going to protest about this - you could see it brewing behind his eyes, but you kept going. “Then you can come back here later... okay?”  “The multiverse isn’t going to watch itself...” The man grumbled, his brows furrowing together, putting creases through his forehead; ones that had been used so many times before throughout his life.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine for a little while... And besides, Lyla can keep an eye whilst your gone, can’t she?” You look off to the side, where the glowing little form of Lyla was hovering, jumping back and forth, before giving you two thumbs up. “’Course I can.” She confirmed. “That’s what I’m here for.” She chuckled softly, before zipping away to examine the many amber monitors at the back of the room, before Miguel could try and protest that she wouldn’t be able to; not that the glowing AI would take no for an answer anyway.  “The trip home isn’t too long, Miguelito...” You told him, carefully starting to lead him out of the room, though he was putting up some resistance now; you had called him the nickname primarily used when he was ill.  “I’m not sick...” He protested, before glancing over your shoulders to the door that was about to snap open, and he stopped in his tracks, unmoving though you tugged at his arm. “... The lights are on out there...” He mumbled, red eyes glancing down at you. You knew all too well that he would not be able to handle any of the light on the way home. You hummed quietly in thought, before looking at him. “Did you bring your sunglasses with you?”  “No,” He scoffed. “I didn’t need to, when I came in.” He told you, his wide arms crossing over his even wider chest. “I don’t need to go home..” He insisted, “I will be fine..” Considering you now had no way to get  him back to your shared apartment without giving him the biggest flashbang, and biggest accompanying headache of his life, you figured you’d have to make do with whatever you could find in his office. Your eyes darted this way and that, trying to find anything soft that you could use as a pillow, so that Miguel could actually lay down, and rest. There were a few chairs, of varying plushness, which you could perhaps repurpose for nap time.  You moved quickly and with purpose, moving items this way and that to create a small nap area for your partner. “There we are...” You announced after a few minutes, stepping back to admire your work. Was it five star hotel worthy? Perhaps not, but it would do for the moment. Miguel seemed to sneer at  the sight,  but after a gentle push on the arm, he acquiesced. Maybe amusing you wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Carefully, you guided him down onto the bed, comprised of plush desk chairs. It was an awkward fit, but with a little bit of work, Miguel was just about comfortable, though he still looked very grumpy. “You didn’t have to do that.” He muttered, “I was fine as I was.”  “You continuing as you were would have ended up with slobber all over the consoles.” You joked, shaking your head as you tried to help him get a bit comfier.  “I don’t drool in my sleep.” That was a flat out lie - he knew he did. It was hard not to, what with his fangs; it was hard enough keeping them in his mouth when he was awake sometimes.  “Uh huh, alright honey, if that’s what you say..” You tease quietly, quickly pecking his cheek. “Now... You try and have a snooze, okay?”  “... I’m not five.”  “Have a snooze, Miguel.” You repeat, just as soft as before- there was no use in being too hard on him when he was like this, he was going to be stubborn no matter what you did or what approach you had decided to take. He huffed, a frown clear on his lips, despite the darkness in the room.  “Yes, mother.” He replied sarcastically. As much as he was protesting, however, he had to quietly admit to himself, laying down and closing his eyes for a moment did feel nice. Almost heavenly, in fact. 

“How quickly did the symptoms come on, Lyla?” You asked, your voice nothing more than a whisper.  “Fairly quickly.” She replied. She wasn’t forcing her voice to be quiet like you were, she had only turned her volume down in a literal sense. “Started sniffling, then on came the headache.” She shrugged. “Though I do have to say - never seen him give up that quickly before. Usually Peter B argues with him for at least an hour before Miguel even takes a five minute break, let alone a whole nap. I’m impressed.” Her golden form zipped away for a moment, clicking a quick selfie with the already sleeping Miguel, before returning to her prior  position. “Well, I suppose being his lover does help a bit... I’d like to think he has a soft spot for me.” You chuckled, joking with Lyla. You had always been fond of her, even if she wasn’t human, she certainly knew how to act like one. Miguel always acted like he found your bond with his AI companion to be more trouble than it was worth, but in actuality, he found it rather cute - he too had his own unique relationship with the software.  “Yeeaahh, I think you’re right... I think he’s got more than just a soft spot for you, though. He’s just soft for you.” She told you. “Now, don’t tell him I told you this, buuut... You know how he keeps way too many tabs open at once?” Anyone who even took one sideways glance at Miguel’s floating desktop knew how many tabs he kept open at any one time, so you just nodded. “Well... By my calculation, about 53% of those are centered - one way or another - on you. Like your favourite food, song, tv shows and movies, as well as-”  “Alright, alright, I get it, Lyla...” You laughed gently, your eyes landing on the peaceful form of your sleeping boyfriend, who was already starting to gently snuffle in his sleep; the cold had overcome him quicker than he could have ever expected, and it was clear that his body was thanking him - and you - for giving it a moments peace. A little bit of solace from the immense pressure that never went away. “C’mon.. let’s leave him be for a little while... D’you know where Peter B is?” You asked, slowly starting to move towards the door. “Might go tell him that Miguel is having a nap, at work of all places.”  “Oh, he’s going to love that,” Lyla replied, taking a seat on your shoulder. “Though I think he’ll keep asking how you managed to do it... I think he’s in the cafeteria.” She chuckled, waving vaguely in the direction of your new destination. Your voices both faded off into the distance as you strolled down the hall, leaving the sleeping O’Hara to whatever dreams his mind could conjure for him, and there he would likely stay for the rest of the day - he certainly did need that rest. 

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