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martiniluvr · 1 month

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18+ minors dni

1,000 follower celebration!! I love u all wow. thank you for all your support, truly. be warned, this is long. enjoy 💫

warnings: nsfw alphabet for dick grayson and jason todd, so there’s a variety of things under the cut. please proceed with caution 🩷

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A | Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jason is very different after sex. it’s a major act of trust for him, so when it’s done, all he really wants is to be close to you. in other words: he’s a big cuddler. he’ll mumble some things into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair, and after, you usually end up ordering enough food to feed a small family, because that man can eat.

dick is a loverboy at heart. once the dust has settled and you’re both down from your highs, he’s doting on you—bringing you water, a snack, cleaning you up with a damp cloth—with doe eyes and a big old grin. always invites you to have a shower with him afterwards, and you always say yes, because his shoulder rubs are divine.

B | Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

unsurprisingly, jason has some…issues with his body from all the shit it’s been through. that being said, I think he intentionally trains his back and shoulders the most. it’s what makes him look as huge as he does. as for his favourite thing about you, jason todd is an ass man, argue with the wall. he likes something he can grab. hard.

dick grayson knows his ass is fat. he’s not shy about it. but his favourite body part is actually his arms, and how muscular they’ve become over the years. as for you, he loves your hips. they trigger something primal in him; the second you put on a fitted dress, he’s thinking about giving you his children.

C | Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

jason gets nasty. he’ll cum anywhere on your body just for the obscene sight, but he especially loves to cum in your mouth when he’s feeling that extra bit dominant. he doesn’t care if you spit or swallow, it turns him on either way—but, god, he’s proud when you open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.

let’s cut to the chase. dick wants to cum inside you over and over again. he hardly even contemplates doing it anywhere else; that man wants to fill you up and watch you drip. maybe it’s his out-of-control breeding kink, maybe it’s how intimate it feels—whatever the case may be, rest assured dick grayson loves a creampie.

D | Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

voyeurism. jason likes to watch. it happened accidentally once when he walked in on you practicing some self-care, and he’s thought about it ever since. he enjoys the performance aspect of it; it’s a power play, watching you get yourself off, knowing he’s right there but refusing to help you.

this ties in with Q, but dick borders on exhibitionism sometimes. fucking you in his car, in the bathroom at a charity event, or in a changing room—anywhere you might get caught, really—god, it gets him going. it’s the daredevil in him, constantly yearning to test the limits of what he can do.

E | Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think jason had very limited to no experience before his death, and most of what knows today he learned by being with you. ever the fast learner, though, he sure as shit knows what he’s doing now. I think he’s very in-tune with your body and his needs, and it shows in the way he fucks you.

we have to face facts here. dick definitely got around before committing to a serious relationship. despite that, I think he knows what he’s doing thanks to his impeccable observational skills; sometimes you think he knows your body better than you do (but don’t tell him that; it goes straight to his head).

F | Favorite position (this goes without saying)

jason is a sucker for good old-fashioned doggy style, of course, but fuck, does he adore the prone bone position. trapping you under his body, hitting you deep with each thrust, and he gets to watch your ass jiggle at every movement? it borders on religious ecstasy for him.

dick goes feral—feral—for the mating press position. it’s erotic, carnal, and raw, and that’s exactly what he wants when he’s fucking you. he’s also partial to cowgirl, especially when he can tell you want to take control. the view it offers him is enough to have him whining underneath you for more.

G | Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

jason is more on the serious side; sex with him, intense as it may be, is still a big act of vulnerability on his part, so he doesn’t treat it lightly. he will, however, crack a warm smile on those occasions when you make love in the small hours of the morning, when he thinks you can’t see his face clearly.

dick is a tease, and sex with him is fun. he likes to flirt with you while he bends you into compromising positions, and he gets very cocky when you cum. he can’t help but make little quips after the fact, either; “something wrong with your leg, baby?” as your limbs twitch and tremble from your orgasm. jerk.

H | Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in keeping with his rugged exterior, jason is only doing what he needs to in order to keep things manageable and convenient. he is not dedicating hours to manscaping. much to your elation, that means he keeps his happy trail intact.

dick is a little more meticulous in his grooming, being the “pretty boy” that he is. he prefers keeping himself neatly trimmed, partly to ensure more comfort in his nightwing suit—he’s learned the hard way that the pornstar look is a one-way ticket to chafing when you’re jumping off of buildings.

I | Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

jason really restrains himself from being outwardly intimate. he finds it hard to be that vulnerable, and while he loves the passion between you when you fuck, he’s only really able to tap into the romantic aspect if he’s wholly at ease. that’s not to say it never happens! it definitely does, just give him time.

he may be cocky and unserious when he’s fucking you, but sex with dick is always very openly intimate. he sees the beauty and romance in what you do together, and it’s truly special to him that he gets to witness you like this. sex is absolutely one of the ways he expresses his love and admiration for you.

J | Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jason only really masturbates when he’s away from you on a mission, and needs to take the edge off. it’s less interesting without you, so he wants it done quick. he imagines you touching yourself as he does it—legs wide and eyes hazy—and that gets him to his peak extremely efficiently.

dick likes to edge himself. I said what I said. he’s thinking about how he’d much rather save his load for your pretty cunt, so he’s bucking his hips and screwing his eyes shut as he forces himself to stop right before his climax, reminding himself how good it’ll feel when he gets to fill you up.

K | Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation is jason’s go-to; he gets off on dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re hardly able to speak. he also loves forced eye contact, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open. oh, and he has a massive size kink. when you’re as huge as he is, everyone is small by comparison, and he likes how big you make him feel.

say it with me. dick grayson has a breeding kink. the visual aspect of cumming inside you is enough to drive him crazy, but the thought of getting you pregnant…now that makes him rabid. face-sitting is another big one; any variation of pussy-eating drives him wild, but having you sit on his face is his favourite way to do it.

L | Location (favorite places to do the do)

if you’re at home, anywhere is fair game to jason. he’s fucking you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the sofa, against the wall, in the office—anywhere. outside of home, he’s more restrictive, but he has thought about fucking you in the batmobile on the many occasions he’s stolen it.

the bedroom is definitely dick’s favourite place to fuck you; aside from making things feel more romantic, he wants you to be comfortable as he’s bending you into crazy positions. he also loves a shower quickie and car sex, impractical though they may be. don’t worry, he’s an acrobat. it’ll work.

M | Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

is it crazy to say that jason gets turned on when you argue? because he does. a moderate disagreement where you’re getting huffy with him is a surefire way to get bent over the sofa. oh, and if he feels even a little jealousy creeping over him, you’re in for a ride. also, if you nestle into him during the night, you’ll be contending with his hard cock pressed against your lower back until one of you caves.

dick is whipped. whatever you’re doing can get him going. cooking, reading, wearing his clothes—he loves everything you do. but, he’s particularly turned on whenever you dress up for a special occasion. it can be a little inconvenient when you’re running late for an event and he’s groping you over your gown in the limo, but how can you refuse those blue eyes?

N | No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

jason would be very resistant to anything that puts him in a submissive role (this goes for ak!jason too). this includes both sex acts and the use of props/toys that take control away from him; he’s just not into it. he’d also refuse any kind of roleplay, saying it’s unnecessary. he’s a pragmatic guy.

I think dick would really dislike the idea of hurting you. he’s not opposed to spanking, and he’ll even engage in some light breath play (ahem, headlock, anyone?), but he would never take it any further than that. if he bruised you through anything other than hickies, he’d be sick with guilt.

O | Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

it should come as no surprise that jason loves receiving head. there are few sights as enticing as watching you take his cock in your mouth while he instructs you to keep your eyes on him. he’s also very skilled in returning the favour, and his preference is eating you from the back so he can see your pretty ass move each time you squirm.

you know my stance on this. dick is a munch. he’s eating pussy like it’s his last meal before the end of the world, and he’s doing it for him. needless to say, he’s fucking good at it. receiving head is quite literally the last thing on his mind. that being said, when he does remember to let you reciprocate, all he can think about is how pretty you look while doing it.

P | Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

jason can get pretty rough, and he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. sex for him is partially an emotional release. but, he’s good at alternating between destroying you one day and being gentle the next; despite his tough facade, jay enjoys soft, passionate sex as much—if not more—than you do.

dick is kind of a hedonist; once he starts feeling pleasure, he doesn’t want it to end—especially when you start feeling it too. he’s happy to give you fast and rough if it’s what you want, but his preference is sloppy, erotic fucking. the messier you get, the better. although, if he’s got you in a mating press, the roughness seeps back in quickly.

Q | Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he’ll never say no to a quickie, jason prefers to take his time with you. once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, and he loves to see how much you can take from him before you’re spent. quickies are sporadic with him; he prefers to enjoy your body at his pace.

if he gets the chance to fuck you—hell, even just tease you—dick is going to take it. he loves the thrill and the sense of urgency that comes with quickies. whether it’s a hookup in his car or an impromptu blowjob when he’s supposed to be on patrol, his eyes are lighting up like it’s christmas.

R | Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

jason is not a risk-taker. he needs time to warm to any kind of experimentation, but he’s more likely to try things on you than on himself, like using light restraints on you or dabbling in sensory play. as long as he feels he has some control.

dick is a different story. he’s willing to try most things at least once, and he’s able to laugh it off if something goes south. he’s not opposed to switching (ha) things up and giving you the lead, either; he likes a woman in charge.

S | Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

maybe it’s his extensive training, maybe it’s just who he is; whatever the case may be, jason can go for a long time. but, it’s usually just one round that he draws out so he can really work you to your limit.

dick can handle multiple rounds if you give him time. his recovery consists of burying his face between your legs until he’s ready to go again, which doesn’t take very long once you start convulsing against his tongue.

T | Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jason wouldn’t even think to use sex toys unless you brought it up, but he’d be open to using them on you if you asked. he’s quick to see the potential in your little pink vibrator when he holds it against your clit while he fucks you, noticing how much easier it is to overstimulate you this way.

ever the experimentalist, dick isn’t opposed to trying out toys in the bedroom. in fact, he’s the one who would show up with fuzzy blue handcuffs (“I got them in my colour!”) to restrain your hands behind your back, so he can devour your cunt without interference from you.

U | Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’d like to tease you more, but jason doesn’t really have the restraint for it. as soon as you’re splayed out in front of him, he wants to take you. when he does tease, though, he likes to touch you everywhere but where you need him most, until you’re begging for him to make you feel good. then, he likes to make you regret it—over and over again.

dick is the world’s biggest tease, and you can look that up. he’s got you grinding on his lap, making out with you until you’re panting, only to say he needs to do some work as he stands up with a smirk. and when he finally gets you naked, he makes you tell him what you need while his fingers hover over your aching pussy, never reaching you.

V | Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

jason isn’t very loud at all, but the sounds he does make range from grunts and groans to the occasional low moan if you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. he’s a big dirty talker, and he likes to get up in your ear to do it, so he knows you’re listening. he notices the way you shiver at his gravelly voice, and it drives him crazy.

dick is far less concerned about being quiet. he’s moaning, swearing, telling you how pretty you are, even occasionally whining, and he’s not worried about what your neighbours think—in fact, he’s making sure you’re just as vocal as he is, insisting you tell him how you feel. he’s also expressive when he cums, especially when he does it inside you.

W | Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I know this is controversial, but jason would never agree to a threesome. this man is possessive. the mere thought of seeing someone else touch you in front of him is enough to make him see red, so no—he’d end up committing murder (not that it’s a far leap for him on a good day).

dick has a thing for watching you work out, especially when you’re doing yoga in the living room in those skin-tight pants. watching the way your limbs elongate and contract as you bend and stretch does things to him, but he never interrupts; the images stay in his mind for those long missions.

X | X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jason is a behemoth of a man all over. and I do mean all over. he’s packing. an easy 8 inches (slightly more), thick, with a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein from the base to the tip—which is a mauvy pink, by the way. you’re still shocked you’re able to take him, and he was too the first time.

‘prettiest man alive also has a pretty cock’ would be dick’s headline. just over 6 inches, with enough girth to make you feel full, and a rosy pink tip that matches his lips…you could honestly just stare at it if he’d let you (and he probably would). he fits you like a glove every single time.

Y | Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

jason’s sex drive is pretty consistent; it’s always simmering a little ways below the surface. he’s able to compartmentalise it when he has to, but sex doubles as a form of stress-relief for him, so it happens…often.

dick has an incredibly high sex drive. like jason, he can reel it in when needed, but if it were up to him, you’d fuck every single day, twice even. I also truly believe that he’s regularly plagued by morning wood.

Z | Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of, but the truth is jason could probably pass out in your arms about 10 minutes after you’re done. take it as a sign of how safe he feels with you as he’s snoring softly into your neck.

he’s definitely tired after sex, but dick is waiting until he notices you dozing off before he closes his eyes. once he’s out, though, good luck waking him up again without an air horn. he’s going to need his full eight hours to recharge.

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gojoest · 9 months

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gojo learning what a home smells like, mentions of food, not much dialogue except for the ending, kind of selfship coded bc this was supposed to be a talk post but then i kind of rambled and this came out so it’s not proofread and that’s that

each home has a specific scent to it.

you know, the one that builds over time, the so-called occupant odor that fills the air after a while of people living in it. it’s the aroma of the ingredients you use and the spices you often put into your dishes, the freshly washed clothes and especially that one detergent that is always a must, the cleaning products you use, and the scent of those who inhabit the house all combined that sticks behind and makes it so distinct. makes it smell like home.

but satoru’s house smelled empty. too empty in fact. it smelled clean, too clean for someone who’s lived there for years now. almost like a newly renovated apartment that’s been deprived of human presence for too long and it’s just the sharp scent of paint and construction materials that hits your nostrils when you walk in. a housekeeper would come by once in a week to take care of the place, not that there was much to do around — it was pretty clean. nobody cooked there — his fridge was almost empty, only water bottles in it. nobody did the laundry — everything was sent to the dry cleaning. nobody was there enough for their scent to sink in, even he himself. his house never felt like home to him. it was simply a place for him to shortly crash at. like a hotel of some sort, a place he’d only use to shower and sleep while for the rest of the time he’d be out going on missions, putting his life in danger.

that was, until you came into his life.

at first it was only short stayovers. you would spend a night or two at his place each week. but it was enough for it to start layering and spreading around — the scent of you, of him, of you together. when you came into his life out of literally nowhere, he would start going out of his way and take on less missions so he could be with you, more — so you would stay over and make dinner, ask about his favorite dish and then cook it for him the next time.

you would make pancakes in the morning. you would get your favorite ingredients and put them in his fridge. you’d get some blueberries and bananas, little bit of feta cheese even. you would place jars of powdered sugar and honey into the empty shelves in his kitchen. and little bit by bit the room would start to fill — some oats and cinnamon for autumn days, peanut butter because it goes so well with apples, a little bit of oregano for when you make baked potatoes, a little bit of garlic because it makes any dish taste better, some olive oil and lemons because that’s your go-to dressing for when you make salads, and some tahini for when you’re feeling posh but then realize it doesn’t taste quite right in some meals but eat it anyway.

little bit by bit his house would start feeling less empty and more like home.

you’d bring extra clothes for the day after the stayover and then forget the old ones there. he would buy you pajamas for when you come by so you don’t have to bring yours every time or wear a shirt of his when you don’t or sleep naked (not that he minds it). you would wash them all in the laundry, together with his clothes and yours, the ones you had left behind from before. but you would always need that one softener, you know, the one you absolutely refuse to wash your clothes without because it smells so good, and then you would put your pajamas and his next to each other on the bed and the clothes — in his wardrobe, and the room would smell so good and it would start feeling like home to him.

but.

no matter how much of yourself you left behind, it still felt kind of empty, especially on days when you weren’t around tiptoeing quickly from the bedroom to the bathroom in the mornings for a quick pee before coming back to bed and nuzzling into his chest, when you weren’t around dancing in his kitchen experimenting with a new salad dressing once again, when you weren’t around asking him to open jars, when you weren’t around for his eyes to see and his arms to embrace in the morning.

it was then when these four walls felt so foreign and nothing like home to him. the house still smelled familiar but not completely. just like a bland dish — you eat it and it gives your body the needed nutrients but doesn’t quite fill you up because there’s just something missing.

and tonight he decided to chase after the missing ingredient.

“so, listen”, he said while casually grabbing some greens through the salad with his chopsticks, “i am going to make you an offer you can’t refuse”

“if it has anything to do with me doing the dishes tonight and you folding the laundry tomorrow, i am out”

“love”, he paused, “who washes dishes by hand when there’s a dishwasher?”

“rich people like you might not know of this, but we, ordinary people, do not use the dishwasher for just three plates. we use our hands, a sponge and a dishwashing liquid”, you flashed a polite but sarcastic smile at him.

“okay, ordinary person that i love so much, then how about this”, he swallowed his bite and continued, “you move in and start being extraordinary with me?”

“we’re not using the dishwasher for three plates”, you raised your chopsticks and brought them threateningly close to his face, “but okay. i can move in here and start using your credit card more reasonably”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader

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georgie-weasley · 1 year

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Spontaneous G.W. x Reader

Warnings: one swear word

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: You were rich, pretty, smart, and everything George wasn't. According to George, you were untouchable. He admires you from afar until he learns that you are human, just like him

Masterlist

“I think you’ve got enough strawberries George.” Fred laughed, waving his hand in front of George’s face. George blinked, coming out of a trance to finally tear his eyes away from the girl that had him captivated and look at his plate. He had about 15 strawberries dangerously stacked next to his toast and waffles. Ten minutes ago he had been starving, ready to eat Fred if he had to until you walked in, laughing with your friends. He didn’t even see you at first since he was so preoccupied picking out his breakfast but he heard you. Someone must have said something hilarious because your laugh seemed to echo around the Great Hall, bombarding George from all angles. He loved it. Your laugh sounded like the crescendo in a song, taking his breath away. He had been red in the face and sweaty before he even saw you. When he finally did look at you, it was all over. You moved so gracefully, you could have been floating. George watched you talk with your friends and when he saw your smile, he forgot all about his grumbling stomach.

Fred turned to look over his shoulder and when he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. “Here’s an idea Georgie,” Fred grumbled, “stop staring at her and go talk to her.”

“Yeah mate, it’s weird. I’m uncomfortable for her.” Lee Jordan chimed in, reaching across the table to grab some toast.

“I will have you know I have talked to her.” George huffed, carefully dismantling Strawberry Tower, moving the discarded ones onto Lee’s plate.

“Talking about the weather doesn’t count.” Lee snorted, happily eating the food now added to his plate. George opened his mouth to retort but Lee continued. “Neither does telling her good morning or asking her about the homework.”

“Or apologizing when you ‘accidentally’ bump into her in the halls.”

George glared and threw a strawberry, aiming for Fred’s nose. Much to his disappointment, Fred ducked and the strawberry rolled away. “I have talked to her. Small talk counts as talking if you didn’t know.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “Sure but you’ve been in love with her since third year. Small talk isn’t going to make her fall for you. Just go up to her and tell her you’re in love with her and hope she feels the same. If she doesn’t,” Lee shrugged, “at least you know.”

“That is the stupidest thing you have ever said Lee. And you once asked McGonagall if she licks herself clean when she’s a cat.” The three boys shuddered at the memory. “I’ll talk to her about something normal. Something that will make her want to keep talking to me.”

---

“Do you ever wonder if McGonagall licks herself clean when she’s a cat?” George stood in front of you, hands sweating and his eyes going wide as he realized what just came out of his mouth. Something normal indeed.

“Pardon?” You cocked your head to the side, watching George with those beautiful eyes he could spend forever staring into.

“I just mean that maybe she acts like a cat does and that’s how they bathe. So maybe she…” He trailed off, hearing the giggles coming from your friends behind you. “Sorry, that was… weird.”

You smiled and George could feel his heart stop. He was going into cardiac arrest, he just knew it. “A little but a very good question all the same.”

He died. There was no way he was alive. The real you would have never even entertained his question, let alone call it a good one. He stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. He should say something, something smooth. If he could just lay on the charm like Fred does so well, you’d be putty in his hands. “Do you think that means she goes to the bathroom in a box?” Oh. My. God.

George spun on his heel and took off sprinting down the hall. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

George lay in his bed, hands covering his face as Fred and Lee practically rolled on the floor with laughter. “So you– I mean you really asked her if McGonagall uses… a box?” Lee burst into another fit of giggles as Fred gasped for air. “George, I think you did it mate. I think she’s in love with you now.”

A scarf came flying from the bed, landing harmlessly on Lee. “I hate both of you!” George grabbed his pillow, burying his face in it. The laughter died down and once the other two felt they could talk without falling into another laughing fit, they climbed onto his bed.

“George, you’ve never had this much trouble talking to a girl before. You’ve always been pretty smooth. Not like me but you have never struggled to talk to anyone. Why is she so different?” Fred grabbed the pillow, making sure his twin was still breathing.

“Why is she different? Have you not seen her, Fred?” George sat up, looking at his hands. “First of all she’s gorgeous. Ethereal. Stunning. All that and more. She’s funny. I’ve heard her make a few jokes and they’re great; some of them are almost as good as ours. She’s smart and talented and nice and just perfect. That’s the problem.” He sighed and glanced at his brother and friend, glad to see they were now taking him seriously. “She’s from this really well off family. Her parents are both ministry workers but not like dad, they have important jobs. Her family has been full of powerful witches and wizards for centuries but they have never acted like others are less than. I heard she’s been ballroom dancing since she was seven. Her family is rich. She's a lady and I’m just…George Weasley. She would never want to talk to me. Or date me for that matter.”

This had not been the first time George or any of the other Weasley boys had felt less than because of what they didn’t have. George had never seen your house but he assumed it was big enough to fit the Burrow inside it at least three times. He knew your family had money. Meanwhile the Weasleys were just scraping by. You were the kind of girl that should have been a princess while George was nothing more than a stable boy. Not even the court jester because a jester would have to be able to speak to you.

“George, you aren’t giving her a chance to give you a chance. You’re making her seem untouchable. She’s human too.” Fred patted him on the back and smiled. “I say, tomorrow you talk to her, like a person. Talk to her like you talk to me.”

“So I should call her a stupid git?” George smirked before getting a pillow to the face.

---

Today was Saturday and just as he had promised, George was going to talk to Y/N. He just had to find her. He checked out the Great Hall and there was no sign of you. Then he checked out any open classrooms he could find and you weren’t there either. He went to the library and had no luck. In fact, he was kicked out for yelling your name while looking for you. By this time, George was exhausted and sure his legs would fall off any minute if he didn’t sit down soon. The lake was close enough that he could kill two birds with one stone; he could look for you and take a break before his lack of legs would make it very easy to tell the difference between him and Fred. As luck would have it, he spotted you sitting under a tree not too far from the edge of the lake. His heart willed him to move toward you but his brain kept his feet firmly planted. This was stupid. He should leave you alone and move on to find some girl that would make more sense. Someone that was not out of his league. At some point, his heart convinced his brain to start walking toward you. The first thing he noticed was the letter in your hand and the next thing he saw were the tears on your cheeks. Yikes. Just back away slowly Georgie, he thought to himself. Take small, quiet steps and you can sneak away before—

“George?”

Shit. He plastered on his best smile and tried to pretend like you weren’t crying right in front of him. “Hey there Y/N. How are you? Probably not great considering the… crying.” George closed his eyes, mentally slamming his head on the nearest tree. It was honestly amazing how great he was at screwing up. He should be given some kind of award. “I’m so sorry. I just walked over and saw you crying and I don’t know what to do with crying people and I’m really nervous to screw up here.” Neither spoke for a minute as you looked up at him. Seeing your usually sparking eyes filled with tears broke his heart, shattered it actually. All he wanted to do was take you in his arms and make it all better. Just talk to her like a person.

Slowly, George approached you, afraid you would take off running or yell at him. When you made no move to sprint away, he sat next to you. “I’m sorry. You make me really nervous but I’m a good listener. Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

You were silent for a long time but he didn’t dare move or talk. Honestly, he didn’t think you would tell him what was wrong because why would you? Fred and Lee were right. He had only ever had small talk with you.

“It’s my parents.” Your voice was so soft George almost didn’t hear you. Oh. George nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “You know they’re in the ministry right?” Boy did he know. George had heard from his father about your parents. Your father was part of the Wizengamot, the part of the ministry that makes laws and holds trials. He was a big name in the ministry. Your mother was part of the Department of International Magic Co-Operation. Her whole job involved getting wizards and witches in other countries to work together. She played a big part in getting Durmstrang and Beauxbatons to come to Hogwarts this year for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. George’s father was also in the ministry but his job was practically the least important position there was. He spent his days finding Muggle items that had been tampered with and reporting them, even if he committed the same crime in his free time. He didn’t make much money at all and it left the family of nine struggling.

“Yeah, my dad has mentioned them a few times.” He tried not to sound bitter as he answered you but it was hard not to.

“They want me to join the ministry when I graduate. They made sure my grades were perfect and after taking my O.W.L.s, they hand picked my classes and set me on the path to join the ministry. My mother even signed me up for a summer program at the ministry just so I have a better chance at joining.” You took a deep breath and looked over at George. You had fresh tears in your eyes as you continued. “I don’t want to join the ministry. They have such high expectations of me and I don’t want to let them down but I don’t want to be in the ministry.”

“What do you want to do?” George understood where you were coming from. Him and Fred had plans and dreams to open a joke shop, something their mother did not support. She wanted them to finish school and get some boring job like the rest of the wizarding world. They didn’t want to disappoint her either but their happiness had to come first at least sometimes. George and Fred would never be happy sitting behind a desk all day or chasing down bewitched muggle items. They wanted to bring joy and raise up a new generation of delinquents. That was the dream.

“Well,” you started as you turned to look at the lake, “I think I want to be a healer. I’ve always been good at potions and herbology and basic spells used for healing.”

“And your parents don’t want you to do that?” As you shook your head, George scoffed. “Why? I think being a healer is a perfectly respectable job. You aren’t trying to run off and live in a cave for the rest of your life.”

You let out a small laugh and George felt like he was floating. He made you laugh after you had been crying. He could die happy. “I agree with you but they think that working for the ministry is the only job worth having. They just want me to be successful. They’ve spent my whole life preparing me for the future they want me to have. Dance lessons and internships and anything else that makes me into whatever it is they want me to be.”

“Happiness is more important than success. Who says that being happy doesn’t mean you’re successful?” George ran his fingers through the grass. “My mother sounds a lot like your parents. Fred and I want to open up a joke shop. She thinks that we’ll be throwing away our potential if we go ahead with it.”

You looked back at George and watched him closely as he kept his eyes on the ground. He was pretty. He had the warmest brown eyes you had ever had the pleasure of looking at. “I think a joke shop sounds like a wonderful idea. Personally I can’t imagine you or Fred working at the ministry or any normal job for that matter.” George laughed and nodded. “What will you do?”

He thought for a moment, continuing to look at the ground because he knew as soon as he looked at you, he would forget everything. “Fred and I are opening the joke shop when we have the money. I think our mother will be disappointed for a while but we aren’t made to work in an office. Besides, she’s our mother so our happiness should take priority over anything else.”

“I wish I could be like you George. You sound like you have everything.”

He turned his head to look at you so quickly he thought he snapped his neck at first. You thought he had everything? You were jealous of him? “I thought you had everything. A big house, rich parents, grades, popularity. You have everything.”

You shook your head and smiled at him. “Really? I always wanted a big family that would spend time together. You have always seemed so sure of yourself and confident. You don’t let anyone tell you what to do or who to be. George, you’re spontaneous and perfectly you. I wish I could be like that.”

George smiled as your eyes found his and then time stopped. He was distantly aware of the wind rustling the trees and the sounds of other students talking but all he could see was you. Your eyes, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. “Then let’s do something spontaneous.” With great effort, George tore his gaze away from you and looked around. The lake caught his eye. “Come swimming with me.”

He grabbed your hand and stood, pulling you to the lake until you stood at the edge. Without waiting for you, George ran into the water, dressed in jeans and his t-shirt. Behind him, you stood at the bank. Should you be doing this? Probably not but it would make you happy. George made you happy. It was time to put your happiness first. You took off after him, squealing at the cold water. “You didn’t say it was this cold!”

“I didn’t want it to scare you away.” George laughed, cupping his hand to launch water at you. The water slammed into you and with a harmless glare, you retaliated, sending your own wave of water at him. The two of you continued to splash each other until George held up his hands in defeat.

As you both caught your breath, George moved to sit on the bank, the water lapping at his feet. You took a seat next to him and bumped your shoulder against his. “What do you plan to do now?” He asked, bumping you back.

“I’m going to tell my parents I don’t want to be in the ministry. I’ll talk to my head of house about switching some courses around to get on the right path to becoming a healer.”

George smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

He looked at you and you looked at him. George saw you like no one else. He heard you complain about your parents and instead of siding with them, as most people did, he agreed with you. He thought your happiness mattered more than what your parents wanted. “Thank you George.”

“For what?”

“For listening, making me laugh, making me feel… human.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek before standing. “I should go write that letter to my parents. I wouldn’t want to lose all the nerve you gave me.”

George watched you go, his hand coming up to the spot where your lips had touched his cheek. His face turned red as he replayed the kiss over and over again. Fred and Lee were not going to believe this. They were going to kill him if he just let you walk away after that. He clambered to his feet and sprinted after him. “Y/N! Wait!” He waved his arms, trying to get your attention. You stopped in your tracks and looked back at him, watching him chase after you.

“Yes George?”

“I was… Well I was wondering if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” He held his breath, waiting for the rejection to come.

“I would love to. I’ll see you later Georgie.” With another kiss to his cheek, you walked off. Next Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #fred weasley #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic

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tiny-pretty-sana · 3 months

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jeongyeon gf | headcanons

warning: nsfw content (+18), minors dni, men dni

sfw

jeongyeon is tender, warm and protective with those she loves and cares about, but with you she is even more so. she has taken princess treatment to another level.

her love languages are acts of service and quality time, her actions speak louder than her words.

she likes cooking for you and she loves cleaning, so when she stays over you'll end up having meals for a week and that she'll probably do all the laundry with the excuse that she has to wash the t-shirt she left last time.

she'll probably try to vacuum, clean the bathroom and organized your closet while she's scolding you for your mess. luckily you've found a few ways to distract her.

she loves spending time with you and she’d enjoy doing anything with you like doing groceries or fixing things around the house but she plans out the best dates

she always finds cute spots, nice restaurants, art exhibits and new places to go

if you casually name drop a place on a conversation trust her to take her there on your next date

she always remembers the small details of your conversations so the same goes with snacks and food if you say you like or crave something she’ll either cook it or buy it for you.

if she gets you snacks expect them to come with little note reminding you to take care and wishing you a great day

with your princess treatment you’re also getting passenger princess privilege. jeongyeon usually picks you up from university/work

she calls you either a short version of your name or “babe”

she’s so protective and always makes sure you’re healthy, safe and comfortable

when you’re not together she will text you around lunch and dinner time to make sure you eat well and on time

when you’re together she makes sure you stay warm and gives you her jacket or sweater when you’re cold. jeongyeon loves seeing how big her oversized clothes look on you

when you’re out she opens the doors for you, ask if you’re enjoying the food, fills your glass with water and makes sure you’re always comfortable

she will be also make you stop every time she sees a dog but you don’t mind at all because she just gets so cute around dogs. when you found out she occasionally volunteers at the shelter you knew she’s the one

she is way better with actions than words because her way of showing you love through words is teasing you endlessly

when you two weren’t dating yet you actually thought she secretly hate you

jeongyeon would bother you more than the others to the point that she would wipe her cheek if you gave her a kiss

now she bends down to your height with her cheek close to your lips to ask you for a kiss

one time you were having a bad day and started crying when she said you looked ugly to tease you. now she has learned to read you and know when you’re not in the mood for it

she doesn’t do pda but the way she holds your hand, interlocks your fingers and places her hand on your lower back feels just as intimate a kiss

when you two are in private she just randomly pecks your lips or hugs you from behind and kisses your neck or shoulder

she loves when you lay on top of her with her arms wrapped around you and she’ll always be the big spoon unless she’s had a rough day

nsfw

her three favorite activities in bed are: eating you out, fingering you while making out and see you riding her thighs

in bed she calls you “princess”, “baby girl” and “pretty girl”

she lets you take the lead first to make you feel comfortable and really respects your boundaries

it took her almost a month to kiss you. when you started dating she always kept her hands on your waist and sides until you got tired of it and had to place her hands on your ass

same thing happened during your first time, you’re so pent up and so touchy because you needed her so bad but you would just make out

you ended up taking the lead and straddled her while moving your hips because she was oblivious to your not so subtle signs

she takes your limits very seriously and will stop you to ask "are you sure about this, princess ?" even when you are the one who started it

once she makes sure you’re okay jeongyeon will start and won’t stop until you can’t no longer cum

jeongyeon’s love language is acts of service so of course she’s service top

she can spend hours going down on you and trapped between your legs. she loves eating you out and her head game is insane

she will clean your up with her mouth and she absentmindedly will start eating you out again because you taste so good

she’s also good with the strap but she’d rather fuck you with her tongue and mouth so she can really feel you

when she uses the strap she has two favorite positions: missionary and from behind

she loves missionary because she can kiss you and look into your eyes while she’s going in and out of you. she does it when she’s in a romantic mood

but having you with your face buried in the your pillow with your ass up in full display for her makes her go feral. she kill kiss down your spine and whisper sweet nothings while pounding on you

if jeongyeon and you are in on of those days she will bite your neck and shoulders leaving marks all over and maybe she will pull your hair a little and maybe wrap her hand around your neck

somehow manages to be still be so sweet and caring when you’re doing the filthiest things and will always make sure you’re okay but also that you’re enjoying it because your pleasure it’s all that matters

she’s a boob girl. she love sucking, nibbling and licking your breasts and nipples leaving marks all over

she loves when you get on top and drag your nails down her stomach while you ride her thigh or the strap

she’s on the quieter side but every time she tastes you for the first time she whimpers

jeongyeon definitely has a praising kink. every time you tell her how good she’s doing and how good shears feeling you can feel her moaning against you

she doesn’t enjoy quickies or rushed morning sex because she likes to take her time worshipping your body and tasting every inch of your body

aftercare is a must and she will start it by asking you how are you feeling. after she makes sure your okay she’s gives you some time to catch your breath and to cuddle

#°❀‿request #twice headcanons #twice imagines #twice smut #twice jeongyeon #yoo jeongyeon #jeongyeon hcs #jeongyeon x reader #gg imagines #gg headcanons

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

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𝐀𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2.6k

chapter summary: you decide to host a New Year's party and when Joel shows up soaked to the bone thanks to the rain, you lead him to the bathroom to dry him up.

warnings: piv, secret relationship, dirty talk, joel getting really creative with the shower head

a/n: let's just consider this little fic an alternative version of the question "what if the outbreak didn't happen plus tommy still doesn't know about you and joel" Normally he would learn before outbreak day no matter if the outbreak happens or not but I wanted to keep the sneaking around bit for this one soooo

I would also like to thank everyone who has been following the story! Every comment is precious to me and I appreciate it more than you realize. I'm so happy people are still enjoying it, I have big plans for this series and I will be finishing it spring time. I hope the new year brings you all peace and happiness, happy new year everyone!

**divider by the talented @saradika-graphics xx

Rain washes away everything. It washes away the dirt of the street, rejuvenates the drying trees, makes the grass greener. In Austin rain truly is a blessing. Every living thing hungers for it. To you, it symbolizes the new beginnings and the losses. You half listen to the chatter between Olivia and Tommy as you peek out the window, smooth drops cascading down the surface. For some, the rain wasn’t an ideal weather to have during New Year’s, but to you, it only made the atmosphere cozier.

The crowded party buzzes around you, people laughing, dancing, and sharing stories. You can't help but notice familiar faces from the community seamlessly mingling with Tommy and Olivia's friends, since you were still relatively new you didn’t know many people other than neighbors and asked them to invite people. The room echoes with the joy of New Year's Eve.

It’s been a painful yet surprising year, to say the least. The loss of your grandfather, the unexpected move, the journey to find yourself. . . all of it had been a bit much, a bit daunting. However, as your mind drifts off to the new room in the old house you realize that some things are truly different. You have people who care about you now. You have the Miller’s, Olivia, your art. All in all, it had also been an amazing year.

The thought makes guilt gnaw at your insides. Tommy still doesn’t know about you and Joel, you were supposed to tell him. . .Joel was supposed to tell him but alas neither of you found the courage to come clean. The past couple of months had been so blissful with him. Neither of you wanted to give that up.

The faint smell of cinnamon reaches your nose and you find yourself smiling even though you’re only slightly worried.

Joel’s late.

“He’s fine,” you hear Tommy whine, turning around you see him rolling his eyes. “He’s a big boy, sweetheart. He’ll be okay in a little bit of rain.”

Big boy, indeed.

“Where is he anyway?” Olivia asks, stuffing her mouth full of crackers.

“He went to drop off Sarah—and there’s plenty of food, you’re not off to war you know. You can eat one at a time.”

Olivia slapped Tommy’s shoulder and took a seat next to him, “Bit weird she’s not gonna be here with us.”

“Sarah’s been beggin’ Joel for months. Finally, he caved when she pulled the ‘you know how hard it’s been for me to make friends’ card. Poor man didn’t stand a chance.”

“So,” you continue, sitting across from them. “They spent Christmas together, just the two of them. That was Joel’s deal. And she’s doing her own laundry for two months.”

“Damn, I hope the party is worth it.” Olivia gives you a mischievous grin, her eyes lighting up as they meet your gaze. "You know," she starts, leaning in slightly, "I have this friend, Jake. . .”

You cut her off, "I'm good, Liv. I'm not looking for anything right now."

"Oh, come on! He's sweet, handsome, and he's got a great sense of humor. You two would hit it off."

Your gaze quickly shifts between Tommy and Olivia. His expression tightens ever so slightly, and you catch the subtle change. Olivia, oblivious, or at least choosing to be, continues.

"Just imagine it. A romantic date, a nice dinner, maybe a movie... He’ll treat you right and if he doesn’t I’ll break his arms."

"Liv, really, I appreciate it, but I'm not ready for that kind of thing. Besides, I'm pretty content with how things are right now."

Olivia narrows her eyes. "It’s been a year, you’re ready for one date. Trust me." Then, much to your horror, she turns to Tommy and gestures to you. “Back me up Tommy, isn’t she ready?”

Tommy clears his throat, looking uncomfortable as ever. He parts his lips and worry knots itself deep in your stomach.

Luckily, you’re saved by a slightly drunk woman you don’t recognize and let out a break of relief. She situates herself next to Tommy, throwing a hand over his broad shoulder, she pulls him close and whispers something in his ear, fingers playfılly dancing over the fabric of his shirt. Olivia rolls her eyes but honestly, you’re happy and grateful for the distraction.

You’re saved a second time when the door opens, the sudden sound of rain drawing your attention. You smile instinctively upon seeing Joel, which is a bit rude you figure, because he looks miserable. His leather jacket is dripping, hair sticking to his forehead. Just how hard was it pouring outside? Must’ve picked up when you, Olivia, and Tommy were chatting along.

Joel, with dropped shoulders and head, spots Tommy first and then you. He makes his way, the defeated walk making him look like a teenager. Tommy bursts out laughing when he sees his older brother, the sound deepens the furrow between Joel’s brows.

“You look like shit!” Tommy says and you notice Olivia desperately trying to hide her laughter behind her palm.

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs you jackass.” Your eyes move up gradually up his body. The rain had darkened the color of his shirt, the flimsy fabric sticking to the planes of his chest. Heat rises to your cheeks. “Is there anythin’ I can burrow sweet tea? Maybe somethin’ that August left behind?”

“What?” you clear your throat, blinking, you meet his gaze. His knowing smile is enough to set fire between your legs. “Sorry didn’t quite catch that.”

“Shirt,” he says, lips curling. “Unless you want me drippin’ all over your couch, somethin’ dry would be nice.” He raises a brow when you continue to stare at him, dazed. “Maybe your brother left behind somethin’?”

Oh god, he’s spelling every word slow and careful meaning he definitely knows you’ve been ogling him. You get up quickly, ignoring the proximity between your bodies, you’d expected him to take a step back but he was as still as stone. You’re like an open book, hopefully, the pretty lady perched next to Tommy is enough to distract him.

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, breathing a bit heavily. You don’t need to say anything else as you begin to part the crowd, leading him upstairs to the bathroom. You can feel him right behind you, the heat radiating off of him warming your back.

Finally reaching the bathroom, you push him inside and quickly close the door, leaning against it, you let out a breath.

However, you don’t get to breathe in when you feel a pair of lips against your own. You shudder as his soaked chest presses against yours, hands cupping your waist, Joel guides your hips towards him. He’s hard as a rock. He swallows the soft voices climbing up your throat and grinds roughly against you.

“Fuck, honey,” he rasps, dragging his lips to your cheek. “You really know how to get a man goin’.”

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“You starin’ at me like you’re about to devour me ain’t nothin’.” he nips at your neck, your body burning at the sharpness. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Don’t remember saying that,” you tease and thread your finger through the wet locks. “You’re cold.”

“You should warm me up then.”

You slip your hands under his shirt, not missing the way he shudders against you. He brings his lips back up, only an inch away, but refuses to close the distance. You keep stroking him. Warm palms moving up and down against cold and damp skin. Joel’s forehead drops onto yours.

“You do realize there’s a party going on outside right? A part that includes your brother, who we are keeping us a secret from.”

“For someone worried about the crowd you’re doin’ a whole lot to tempt me, darlin’.” he kisses your jaw. “You look beautiful by the way.”

You’re happy to hear that because he was the only reason why you decided to wear a low-cut shimmering silver dress. You had also opted to wear an almost sheer pair of black stockings underneath, giving your legs a lovely glow.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

“I love it when you call me sir,” he groans and presses harder against you. Your eyes flutter closed but despite it, you can feel his gaze taking in the bathroom. “You fancied up the place quite a bit.”

A hoarse laughter escapes your throat, “You should thank the crowd downstairs for the fancy towels and the smell of vanilla.”

“You know. . . now that I’m thinkin’ about it it ain’t fair I’m the only one wet.”

“Believe me, Joel, I am soaking wet.”

“That’s not what I meant sunshine,” he gives you a lopsided smile before tugging you towards the tub. “Come’re.”

You wordlessly follow him into the porcelain, your curiosity piqued. His fingertips trace up your waist and find the hidden zipper, slowly, he tugs it down, the sound of it inaudible from the beating of your heart. The dress pools under your knees and your gaze is fixed on him as you step out of the soft fabric. While you’re taking in the sight of his hair curling on his forehead, he takes in the sight of the soft contours of your body. He presses a soft kiss against your stomach, a shudder crawls up your spine.

“Turn around.” He orders, voice dropping to a whisper.

“What about my stockings?”

“I’ll take care of’em.”

You brace your hand against the wall, sticking your ass out, you smile when you hear the hitch of his breath. His knuckles follow the curve of your spine and a second later you hear a loud rip.

“Joel—“

“I’ll get you new ones.” You feel him reaching up and at the same time, he slides your panties to the side. He hums. “You are wet.”

“Told you so.”

You hear a soft click, you’re barely able to register the sound as he begins to dip between your folds and stroke. Somehow your brain whispers to you that he’s adjusting the pressure of the shower head. “What are you doing back there?”

“Remember when you told me how much you enjoyed the different settings when I changed the pipes and the shower head?” You honestly didn’t. “Well, I haven’t, darlin’.”

He turns on the water, away from you thankfully, but you still tense at how cold it is as it gathers at the bottoms of your feet.

“I know baby, I know. It’ll get warmer soon.”

And it does. Your body relaxes, the subtle warmth prompting the arch of your back. Joel gently pushes your legs apart, pushing the shower head between your legs directly onto your—

“Oh god—Joel, fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth for such a good girl,” he says into your ear. “Bet you’ve done this before sweetheart.”

You had, well. . . You tried. But it hadn’t felt as good at this. A single forceful stream of insistent water massages your clit. The arousal that pulses between your legs is washed away down your thighs. Without even realizing you start to hold your breath and embarrassingly enough you roll your hips.

You need more. You need him.

Your legs part wider, trembling as you try to tell him but instead of sentences needy whimpers echo from your throat. You feel his smile on the back of your neck, teeth scraping your warm skin every time your hips twitch. He starts moving the showerhead and your entire body goes numb. It’s so much but so little at the same time.

“You’re being loud, sweetheart.” You shake your head, trying desperately to bite back the moans. “But maybe you like the idea of our friends hearing how needy you get for me.”

You clench at the words, nails scraping against the smooth surface of the wall.

“Please. . .”

“Please what?”

Damn him.

“Fuck me,” you gasp out. “Fuck me please—I’m. . . I’m going insane.” As if to demonstrate your words, you grind down until the shower head spreads your folds, a groan reverberating in your throat as the water fills every inch. “Just fuck me, give me your cock.”

“What if I say I want you to come like this?”

You don’t even think as you answer, “I’ll cry.”

He stills like the calm before the storm then bursts out laughing. Some logical part of your brain is urging you to shush him, remind him that people might hear but you can’t when he sounds so joyful. His deep voice full of life.

“Fine, sweet tea, you win. Wouldn’t want you to cry durin’ New Year’s.”

Joel turns off the water and you turn, facing him as he does. His eyes widen when you cup his cheeks, he’s so warm now, so soft from the steam. “Let’s head to my bedroom,” you mutter. “Auggie’s spare clothes are there anyway.”

His hands softly land on your hips, thumbs moving over the waistband of your stockings. “You sure?”

“I want to see you when you bury yourself into me.”

That’s all he needs to hear before dragging you out of the bathroom. You both hurry, the sound of the party still lively downstairs. Luckily your bedroom is close to the bathroom so there isn’t much risk as you follow him out half naked, your sparkling dress in hand.

As soon as you both enter the bedroom, his lips are on yours, pushing you towards the bed until the back of your knees hits the edge and you fall. He follows your dive, his weight pleasant on top of you.

Feeling numb with want, you quickly tug his shirt off of him, and his hands fumble with his belt. Joel doesn’t even bother to take his pants off completely. He frees himself with one hand and pushes in without a word. You both moan, mouths inches apart from each other. Neither of you breaks away from the eye contact. It’s so intimate like this. Your cheeks burning at how naked you feel having him witness the parting of your lips, the flutter of your gaze.

You feel so full, so complete. The slow drag of his cock making you see starts every time he presses forward, brushing against something devastating inside you with every move. Tears gather in your lashes and he kisses them away. Then he drags his lips down to your neck, sucking at nipping. Your breath catches in your throat, your back arching as you clench around him. He groans into your skin, thrusts becoming shallow and quick.

“I’m not gonna last, honey,” he rasps. “Tell me where.”

Just as he says that his hand slides between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit. He draws quick circles, your muscles constricting immediately. At the very last second Joel covers your mouth with his own, muffling your cry as you gush around him, insides twitching and pulsing. He swallows the sounds hungrily. “Where?” he growls against your lips.

“On my pussy,” you gasp. “Want to feel you there.”

He tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth before moving away, you spread your legs further, pushing yourself apart with two fingers. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. His hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he strokes himself. It doesn’t take him long to come undone. Your eyes roll when you feel it. The vicious spurt of his come, the way it drips. It feels like it lasts forever. He comes and comes and comes— painting you with his seed.

When he’s done, he slips his softening cock back inside, pushing himself deeper into you. You both whimper in unison, and he nuzzles the crook of your neck. You begin to play with the ends of his hair, nails scratching the back of his neck.

“Happy New Year, Joel.”

“Happy New Year, sweet tea.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tommy miller x reader #stay in bed new years special #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic

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runningmunson · 2 years

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Eddie’s S/O taking care of him | Headcanon

● Eddie can take care of himself, he’s been doing it for years. Yes, Wayne helps but he works a lot so Eddie is home alone most of the time.

He is messy, unorganized, chaotic, follows no schedule, just goes with the flow.

Eddie is the kind of person who is so caught up in the things that he loves that he often forgets to do basic life necessities like eating, going to bed at a decent time, laundry.

That was before he started dating you.

● It started off small at first, you noticed that he didn’t eat school lunch and never really brought anything more than trail mix so you took it upon yourself to pack an extra sandwich for him.

Later on in your relationship when you began to spend more time at his trailer you realized they hardly ever had real food in the fridge.

○ “Eddie, when was the last time you had a home cooked meal?”

○ “Does frozen lasagna count?”

○ “No, Eddie. That definitely doesn’t count.”

From then on you always made sure Eddie had a home cooked meal, whether it would be at his trailer or your home. You even made sure to make extras for Wayne.

On mornings after you stayed the night you would quietly slip out of Eddie’s grasp and make breakfast before work, leaving a plate for Eddie and Wayne on the table usually with a note that said “have a great day!”

You sometimes have to literally feed him when he gets caught up with learning a new song on the guitar or creating another campaign.

Most of the time he has a guitar or pencil in his hand, you sitting next to him making him open his mouth to feed him because that boy didn’t need to get any skinnier (but something about you feeding him kinda turned him on).

● Eddie usually had a pile of dirty clothes in his room that he only washed when he absolutely needed to (and you bet he smell checked clothes to make sure they were okay to wear again).

You made it a habit to wash and fold his clothes when he was at hellfire club, bedding was included in this.

They once had a sale on bed sheets so you bought Eddie a new set (throwing out his old stained ones), let’s just say Eddie loved christening the new sheets with you.

● Eddie would stay up all night if it wasn’t for you.

You’ve always been pretty regular about your bedtime, you went to sleep at 10:30 every night and always felt well rested the next morning.

The soft light of his lamp and the sound of crinkling paper used to wake you up most nights.

○ “Eddie, come to bed.”

○ “Not yet, sweetheart.”

○ “It’s 3AM and you have school tomorrow.”

○ “I’m trying to finish this new campaign for Friday.”

○ “Edward Munson, don’t make me say it again. Get your ass in bed now.”

○ “Christ, fine! You’re so bossy.”

Eddie liked to pretend that he was annoyed by this but he loved nothing more than your inviting embrace waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally got in bed and to wake up the next morning still in each other’s arms.

● If Eddie had a long shift at the mechanics shop you bet there was a warm meal on the table, clean clothes and towels waiting in the bathroom, his favorite movie rented, and you excited to greet him. It was his favorite sight and he didn’t think he could love you more.

Some days he was so exhausted he would immediately throw himself on his bed. You were right there to take his shoes off, help him undress, usher him in the bathtub, and wash his hair for him. He had some of his favorite conversations with you during these moments.

● It’s not that Eddie couldn’t do all of these things himself, but you just genuinely loved taking care of him and doing all of this for him. He had to take care of everything from such a young age because of his parents. You unfortunately couldn’t take that away but you could control how it would be moving forward. Eddie deserved the world and you sure as hell were going to give it to him.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff

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writebackatya · 6 months

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McDuck Family Members Most Likely to Start Sh*t at Thanksgiving Dinner

Ah Thanksgiving. The holiday celebrated on the 4th Thursday of November (in America that is), one with food, family, and celebrating what we’re thankful for! (Wanna feel bad? Learn about the holiday’s origins!)

And no family is quite as big as the found family from DuckTales; so arguments are bound to happen at a dinner table filled with so many zany characters with interesting pasts and quirks. Let’s honor those who would throw the first punch at a family dinner, shall we?

Bentina Beakley

I wanna cut Beakley some slack. She most likely had a long day before dinner even started what with all the preparations she did for dinner. Not just cooking for 20+ family members plus other side/recurring characters but also the cleaning and presentation

But let’s face it. This woman can be so condescending at times. And judgmental. You just know if someone is showing up to dinner wearing jeans and sweater she’d have something to say about it. And she strikes me as someone who would slam the dishes while cleaning them only for someone to say, “Hey Beakley do you need help with the dishes?” and then she’d be like “No. It’s fine. I got them”

But it’s not fine. Go help her with the dishes. She deserves a break

Dewey Duck

When I was first thinking about this list I originally thought “No way any of the triplets would start anything on Thanksgiving” Huey is a good boy and Louie would definitely take it easy on a day where you’re legally allowed to sit around, be lazy, and eat food. But then I remembered Dewey and how much of a diva he can be

We know Dewey is an entertainer and with everyone coming to dinner, he has a huge “captive” audience that he can perform for. Whether it be an original Thanksgiving song, a one man Dewey show about the first Thanksgiving, a sonnet about a bonnet, or a very special Thanksgiving episode of Dewey Dew-Night; that kid will want all the attention in him. And the very second the spotlight is taken off, oh boy…

Gladstone Gander

Look at this prick. Don’t you wanna slap his face!?!Anyway I love Gladstone Gander, but he’s the kind of family member that just would go on and on about himself and bring every conversation back to him again and how great his life is

That’s great Gladstone. Happy for you, the rest of us have to pay for our sushi but cool. Glad your good luck is really paying off, jerk

But honestly. It’s his tone. It’s the kind of tone that gives off that he knows he’s starting shit but won’t admit it

Goldie O’Gilt

I mean, it’s Goldie. What else can I say?

Gandra Dee

Oh man. There’s so many different ways controversy would start with this morally gray ex-FOWL agent and I’m here for it. Let’s face it, out of all the characters present, Gandra Dee would most likely be the one to bring up the holiday’s horrible origins. If anyone is making it their duty to make a rich white family uncomfortable on Thanksgiving, it’s Gandra Dee

She’d get political and even directly ask Scrooge who exactly he voted for in the past two Presidential elections (he claims to be progressive, but he’s still the richest duck in the world. Just how many tax cuts is this man getting to keep that status?)

Oh and what about the treatment of her overwork and underpaid boyfriend? Why is he still working in the bathroom?

Oddly enough, I can see her and Scrooge bonding over a mutual disdain for Gladstone Gander. What a prick

Kit Cloudkicker

It’s not that exactly what Kit does that’ll start a fight, but what he doesn’t do.

Kit is the kinda guy that was supposed to bring a dessert but totally forgot to pick something up from the bakery so instead he’s stopping at the gas station on the way to dinner to pick up some Twinkies

Kit is the kinda guy that would “take a walk” before dinner and not do anything to hide the scent and now all the kids are wondering how a skunk got inside

Gyro Gearloose

It’s Gyro. Something is bound to piss him off at some point

Doofus Drake

I am so tired of the fandom not including Doofus in this found family (Louie and him made up and are friends now and BOYD is his brother, sorry it’s canon) so he’s here on the list

But he’s still a new addition to this family. And a weirdo and a rich brat with a lot of issues that someone should seriously help him with. He’s gonna make everyone uncomfortable. Is it intentional? Or is he just being Doofus? Who knows

What I do know is this, don’t eat the dish he brought.

Della, Donald, and Scrooge!

The original three!

These three are responsible for splitting up the family in the first place so it’s no surprise that they’re number one on this list!!

Yes they’ve squashed their beef with one another and moved past the Spear of Selene, but they are still themselves

The ones most likely to start shit over the dumbest things

These three are going to be bickering over who should carve the turkey. And the argument will be so loud and hectic that no one will question why a bunch of birds are eating a turkey

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this list. It wasn’t meant to slander any characters, just did it for fun. Happy Thursday everyone.

#ducktales headcanons #ducktales 2017 #ducktales fandom #duckblr #bentina beakley #dewey duck #gladstone gander #goldie o'gilt #gandra dee #kit cloudkicker #gyro gearloose #doofus drake #della duck #donald duck #scrooge mcduck

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apollodarling-writes · 5 months

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What about Yandere Levi finding out reader is pregnant by someone else

yandere levi with a reader who’s pregnant by someone else hcs

cws : yandere themes, murder, noncon, kidnapping, confinement, humiliation, mind break implied, torture, miscarriage, slight gore, forcing the reader to commit murder, reader is put in the basement with the body and watches it rot, reader is knocked up by levi, dead dove: do not eat.

— yan! levi would be furious with both you and the man who knocked you up. he would be in a blind rage, demanding answers from you and once he gets a name, he’ll lock you in a room and leave to find the man who stole his love.

— yan! levi wouldn’t care if he was messy with it. he just wanted the bastard to suffer as much as he was in the moment.

— yan! levi would knock the man out and drag him back to his cabin, chaining him in the cellar and putting a gag in his mouth. once the man wakes up, the torture would begin.

— yan! levi would spend weeks making this poor soul suffer, only giving him enough food and water to survive. by the time you see him, the man is a bag of bones.

— if you loved the man, yan! levi would take you in front of him, his thrusts harsh and calculated as the pad of his thumb circles your bundle of nerves. levi wouldn’t care how much you screamed and cried and begged for him to stop, he wouldn’t. even while he’s sobbing himself, he would fuck you until he’s satisfied.

— yan! levi would drag your spent and used body over to the man who impregnated you, gripping a knife in your hands and forcing you to drive the blade through his chest over and over and over.

— yan! levi would then drag you to the bathroom and harshly tell you to clean yourself up, watching your every move so you don’t inflict harm upon yourself.

— yan! levi would be a lot meaner and more strict after that. he’d drag you back to the basement and leave you there while the body decays.

— while you’re locked in the basement, yan! levi would occasionally bring you food and water, not thinking about the baby and more about punishing you. eventually, you’ll miscarry.

— yan! levi never really intended for you to miscarry but when he finds out, he can’t help but feel relief… and worry for your wellbeing.

— yan! levi would kidnap a doctor and force him to treat you. once your treatment is done, he’ll force you to kill him too, saying something about you cleaning up your mess.

— yan! levi would only bring you back up when he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. whether the lack of social interaction has driven you to near madness, or whether you truly promise to never leave him, you’ll be stuck in there until he’s satisfied with your state.

— yan! levi, once bringing you back up, would be more gentle with you, but wouldn’t trust you in the slightest. you’ll be with him at all times when he’s home, and if he’s out, you’ll have a chain attached to your ankle so you can reach the bathroom and the kitchen.

— yan! levi would still dote on you and give you the occasional affection, but he’s still very very hurt by your actions. he’ll be a bit short with you at times when he’s reminded of your “cheating” but he won’t put you back in the basement unless you really piss him off.

— yan! levi will eventually cave and try to knock you up himself. he’ll fill you up over and over, day and night, until you start showing signs of pregnancy.

— yan! levi is over the moon when you test positive, rubbing and kissing your tummy (after you left the doctors office) and will make sure you have all the nutrients you need. he’s softer, more lenient with you since he doesn’t want you to lose another baby… even if the first one was his fault.

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gunnerfc · 5 months

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❄️ WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 19 - Amanda Ilestedt ❄️

Amanda Ilestedt x Reader (Matildas & Arsenal) | WC: 1029

Dec. 19 prompt - getting snowed in

-> all translations from google!

-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!

You were excited to spend Christmas with Amanda and her family in Sweden. You had been dating for nearly a year, having met through Stina before Amanda joined Arsenal in the summer. You figured it would be easier to go to Sweden given it was closer than flying to Australia. Your family understood since you weren’t given that much time off before you would have to return to training after the holiday break.

You and Amanda arrived in Sweden a few days after your game against Tottenham, which gave you ample time to explore your girlfriend’s home. The atmosphere of Sweden was welcoming and you were thriving, despite only knowing a little bit of the language. Even though the little bit you did know was either terms of endearment to say to Amanda or inappropriate sayings you learned from Lina and Stina, so nothing to actually help you converse with the people on your own.

Having spent the past few days out and about, exploring, you and your girlfriend decided to sleep in and have a relaxing day to yourselves. You groaned as you woke up, not ready to get up from the cozy bed. Your eyes fluttered open focusing on your girlfriend who was still asleep. A small smile formed as you watched the blonde, a feeling of love spreading across your body.

You decided to let Amanda sleep in a bit longer, wanting her to get as much sleep as possible. You moved from the bed as quietly as you could before making your way to the bathroom. Once you were done in the bathroom you left the bedroom, wanting to start on breakfast for the two of you.

As you worked on breakfast, you had turned on some music, letting play softly only in the kitchen so it wouldn't wake up Amanda. At least, that was your hope. You felt arms wrap around your body from behind as you worked at the stove, a light kiss was pressed to your cheek.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping in, min kärlek (my love),” you moaned, your surprise of breakfast in bed now not possible.

“The bed got cold without you, älskling (darling),” the blonde purred, giving you a few quick kisses along your jaw and neck.

You smiled at her words as you continued cooking breakfast. Once you were done and the food was plated, the two of you moved to the table to eat. You ate in comfortable silence, enjoying just being with Amanda.

As you were done eating, the defender took the now empty plates back to the kitchen to clean up since you cooked. You made your way into the living room, opting to move the long curtains that hung in front of the sliding doors to let some light in.

With the curtains out of your way, you were now looking at the densely snow-covered ground. Excitedly you gasped at the sight, tempted to go outside in nothing but your pajamas.

Amanda, having heard your loud gasp, rushed into the living room thinking something had happened. “Y/n! What’s wrong?” the blonde all but yelled.

“Babe! It snowed!” you squealed, a bright smile on your face as you turned to face your girlfriend while pointing outside.

While it did snow in Australia, it was very rare in the city you grew up in so seeing this much snow was exciting. You were glad today was supposed to be a relaxing day because you weren't sure if you would have been able to leave, plus it meant you were able to have fun in the snow.

Amanda let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding when you responded. Relief washed over her knowing that nothing was wrong. Her worried expression was replaced by a look of love at how you were bouncing with excitement. The defender moved across the room to join you at the door, wanting to see just how much it snowed the night before.

“Kom igen älskling (come on baby), let's get changed!” you sang as you reached for Amanda’s hand, pulling her with you towards the bedroom to change into much warmer clothes.

Amanda let you pull her with you, knowing that even if she wanted to say no, there was no stopping you from spending hours in the snow. You changed quickly into warmer clothes and were quick to pull on a pair of boots you stole from your girlfriend. You stood impatiently by the bedroom door, tapping your foot on the floor as you watched your girlfriend tie her boots.

“C’mon babe,” you moaned, though you weren’t seriously rushing her.

The defender laughed at your tone as she stood up from the bed and walked towards you. This time it was her who pulled you back to the sliding doors in the living room. Sliding the door open, the cold hit you the second you stepped outside.

You had your back facing Amanda as you pulled on gloves to protect your hands when you felt something hit your back. Turning quickly, you found your girlfriend’s smirking at you.

“You’re gonna regret that, love,” you teased, a matching smirk on your face as you bent down to gather snow in your hands.

As the snow left your hands, heading in the direction of the blonde, she ducked out of the way watching the snow sail past her head. You lightly groaned as it missed, rushing to make another snowball to prepare yourself.

The snowball continued, Amanda eventually “winning” before you both changed activities. You opted to try and make a snowman, though you were struggling to roll the larger balls of snow for the base of the snowman. You could hear Amanda laughing at your struggles before she came to help you. With her help, you managed to make a small snowman who now sat in the middle of the yard.

You both had been outside for a while, your teeth starting to chatter from the cold. You made the wise decision to call it a day, heading back inside to warm up, hoping that the coldness would keep the snow from melting so you could continue tomorrow.

#woso x reader #woso #awfc x reader #swewnt x reader #amanda ilestedt #amanda ilestedt x reader

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avastrasposts · 11 months

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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 18

Finally some good news for our sweet Frankie and his girl, stuck in this nightmare The Last of Us universe that I so cruelly created for them!

Happy Frankie Friday!

Chapter 19

Series Master List

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings have their own post.

Life in the QZ is strange. It’s like living in limbo, it feels like you’re waiting for something but you don’t know what. A return to normal life? Or for this to feel normal? But at the same time there’s an ever present knot of fear in the pit of your belly, that the infection will spread inside the walls, or that the infected will get inside. Sometimes you forget about the knot but then something happens, a loud noise, someone shouting, a gun firing in the distance, and the fear returns. Having Frankie close helps, you always feel safe with him next to you. But you both work, mandatory for all inhabitants in the QZ if you want to eat. So most of the time he’s not by your side and you bite back the fear and try to get on it with.

The first week you try to figure out your role in this new setting, how to talk to people about everyday things while you, and everyone around you, has gone through a type of trauma you couldn’t have even imagined only a few months ago. Your new co-workers all seem to handle the situation differently, some say nothing unless they have to, others never stop talking about what life was like before the outbreak. The worst ones complain about everything, the food, the work, the accommodation, until your supervisor tells them to shut the fuck up and docks their rations cards for the day. You didn’t even know that was a thing so you keep your head down and do your job. You’ve thankfully been put on kitchen duty, your skill as a cook the one thing that was deemed useful in the QZ. You spend your days inventing new ways of combining beans and rice, the two dry goods staples that there seems to be no shortage of, into new dishes for the FEDRA soldiers, including Frankie.

Frankie has patrols and guard duty most days. He doesn’t tell you much about what he does, saying it’s all routine. Until one evening when he comes back late and there’s blood on his uniform and a bright cut on his cheek, his hands shaking as he unbuttons the shirt. You’re standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching him struggle with it, so you gently push his hands away and slip the buttons from their holes, your fingers staining red with blood.

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, looking up at him as he looks down at your hands.

He shakes his head, “You don’t need to hear it, cariño,” he says but you know that’s not how it works anymore.

“You need to talk to me, Frankie, you can’t keep all the bad stuff inside just to protect me.” You push the shirt off his shoulders and drop it in the sink, filling it up with cold water, letting the t-shirt go the same way as he pulls it over his head.

“I see some pretty grim stuff out there, I don’t want you to know how bad it gets,” he sighs as you gently push him down on the toilet seat, taking out the first aid kit.

“You may want to protect me, but the people in the kitchen don’t care, they talk about all the stuff they’ve seen or what they’ve heard about from other soldiers,” you say, “I hear about the grim stuff every day.”

Frankie seems to scan your face for a minute while you clean out the cut on his cheek, when you’re done he gently takes your hand and presses his lips to your palm.

“I had to learn how to push the grim shit to the back of my mind when I was in the military,” he says, still holding on to your hand. “I made myself indifferent to the pain and suffering I saw others go through, just so that I could get on with the mission. Indifferent to the pain and suffering I inflicted. I don’t want you to have to do the same, cariño.”

“If I ask you to tell me about the stuff you go through, I’m doing it to help you, I’m not going to be indifferent to that, Frankie,” You slip your fingers between his and make him stand up, unbuttoning his cargo pants and pushing them down. They’ve got dark mud stains along one side and you pick them up and dump them in the laundry basket. “I want to know what you go through, because I love you and I want to help you, so you don’t have to carry it all on your own. That’s kinda part of the whole ‘wife’ thing you asked me to be.”

You see his mouth quirk up in a small smile as you poke his chest, “Get in the shower, Morales, and tell me about your day.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Atta boy.”

The second week of your time in the QZ sees your routine start to crystalize; get up, quick shower, breakfast with Frankie if your schedules match up, otherwise you head over to the big kitchen you work in and have breakfast there. You always stop by the service center first and scan the notice board that contains lists of people in this QZ and any updated lists of inhabitants of other QZ’s. So far none of your friend’s names have appeared on any lists. Only Benny and Hannah so far and Frankie hasn’t been able to get through to him yet, he only had a short message from Ben saying Hannaha and him were ok.

Once you’re done with breakfast you spend the rest of the day preparing and planning meals for the soldiers. The kitchen is in an old high school building, the large school kitchen ideal for preparing meals for big groups. The cafeteria now serves as a mess hall for soldiers rather than high schoolers and it’s bizarre seeing the high school banners and colors hanging on the walls over rows of men and women in army fatigues. You usually have the early shift and then you’re done by mid-afternoon, free to do what you want within the confines of the QZ. When Frankie’s shift ends around the same time he’ll meet you in the high school gym. He’s started training you, as he promised in his note for you, teaching you basic fight techniques and how to get away if someone grabs you. It’s exhausting, Frankie is not going easy on you, making you drip with sweat as he encourages you to punch his flat palms harder. Trying to break free of his grip is even harder, his weight and length makes it easy for him to just pin you down. But he makes you practice a few basic moves over and over until you are able to throw him off balance and break free most of the time. At the end of your second week in the QZ your body is aching, your knuckles are raw, but the bruise on Frankie’s jaw from is proof that you’d managed to learn something useful at least.

On Monday afternoon of your third week you leave the kitchen and head for home. Frankie’s got a late shift and won’t be home until dinner time. You drop off an application for some clothes that you need at the donation center and take a new route home. You weren’t familiar with the city before the outbreak and Frankie had tasked you with learning your way around all the streets. He’d said it was a safety precaution in case something, anything, happened and you needed to move swiftly through the city. You hoped you’d never need the skill but you still took different routes home every day, wandering aimlessly, mapping the streets in your head.

Today you come to a small square where some people have set up makeshift stalls, really just blankets on the ground, to sell anything they didn’t need. People would barter or trade for ration cards, the inofficial currency of the QZ. After a few miserable rainy days, the weather was nice again and it seemed to have brought out more people than usual, making you have to weave and dodge around the crowd as you make your way across the marketplace. You don’t notice the dark haired man crouching down by one of the blankets, talking to the owner selling an assortment of shoes. But he seems to sense you, maybe he catches a glimpse of your hair from the corner of his eyes, and he stands up, staring at your back as you weave past the last of the people.

You hear your name called, a tentative tone to it, questioning if it’s really you and you turn, looking back at the crowd of people. At first you don’t see him, but then he steps forward, looking like he doesn’t trust his eyes.

“Pope!” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as you take a step towards him and it makes him spring into action. In a few quick steps he’s on you, his arms thrown around you, hugging you tight as you wind your arms around his neck, holding onto him as you feel tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Pope, you’re alive!” you sob, your heart feels like it’s about to explode with relief and happiness, “You’re actually alive!”

“I am, and so are you, hermana, I can’t believe it,” Pope’s laughing into your ear as he hugs you tighter, “I can’t fucking believe it!”

He pulls back, his arms still tight around your waist and looks down at your tear stained face. “Frankie?” he asks, his smile giving way to a pensive look and you beam at him through your tears, nodding.

“He’s alive, he’s here too!”

Pope blows out a loud sigh of relief and hugs you tight again, “Thank fucking god, I would’ve killed him otherwise.”

“I’ve got so many questions,” you say, still buried against his shoulder, and he pulls back again, “what happened after you left the cabin?”

Pope sighs, loosening his grip on you but his hands still holding on to your shoulders, shaking his head. “It’s a long story, so much shit went wrong.” He suddenly grips you harder, his eyes wide with fear, “Lucía? Is she with you, please, fuck, please tell me she’s with you!”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you don’t know how to get the words past your lips, but he sees your face and understands, without words he understands exactly. He drops his hands and steps past you, walking away from the market, and from behind you see him raise a fist to his mouth. You follow him, further away from the crowd, and when he stops you stand in front of him. He drops his fist, his eyes wide, staring towards the sky and you can see tears collecting in his thick lashes. When he drops his gaze down to his boots tears drip down and you reach out and hug him, folding your arms around his neck, one hand on the back of his head. He doesn’t sob the way Frankie does, he trembles under you, shaking, but no sounds come from him, just his ragged breath.

“How?” he asks eventually, lifting his head from where he’d dropped it on your shoulder.

“We got to her house Monday afternoon, they’d been evacuated by soldiers, taken to Franklin. So we followed but…” you hesitate, the memory of the pile of dead bodies on the side of the road floats up to the forefront of your mind. Lucía’s mom with bullet holes, Lucía’s dress, Frankie’s voice when he thought she was alive, and the inhuman scream from her as she tried to attack him. The gunshot.

“It was a nightmare, Santi,” you whisper. “They’d killed all the evacuees, they were all on the side of the road, shot.”

“I heard rumors about them executing people who weren’t infected, but even children…”

“They were infected, or at least some of them were,” you interrupt him. “Lucía was infected, she…” you draw a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut at the memory. “She was infected when we got there, we thought she was alive but then…Santi…” you look at him, dreading telling him the worst part of Frankie’s trauma. “She…Frankie had to…” you can’t bring yourself to say it, but he understands, his dark eyes reflecting your pain.

He wraps his arms around you again and together you stand still, holding each other up as the images from that day swirl in your head again, and Pope begins to understand what kind of state Frankie will be in when he finally sees his best friend again.

Pope puts his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk to your apartment, not talking much, he tells you where he’s living and skirts your question about what he’s working with. It raises a twinge of suspicion in you but you drop it. A lot of stories will need to be told to cover all the time that’s passed since you last saw Pope in your old apartment back home, and you’d rather have Frankie with you for that. He’s not home yet when you unlock the apartment door, he’s not due for another half an hour, so you point Pope to the couch and start dinner.

“I have news about Benny and Hannah,” you say as you pull out a pot to boil rice. “They’re in the Arlington QZ, Frankie had a message from him a couple of days ago.”

“Oh shit, really?” Pope says, sitting up straight on the couch, “are they ok?”

“We don’t know anything except that they’re there and the soldier who told me hadn’t heard anything about Benny having a brother so we think Will isn’t with him.”

“A soldier from the New York QZ told me recently about a guy who sounded very much like Will, but I haven’t been able to verify it. I’ve been asking around every chance I get.”

“How would Will end up in New York though? That’s hours away even if you could drive the whole way.” You look over at Pope who just shakes his head, and shrugs.

“I have no idea why he would be there, but that’s the only lead I have.”

A key in the front door draws your attention and Pope stands up, he’s directly in line of sight of the door and he’s grinning when the door swings open. Frankie’s got his eyes on a note in his hand as he walks through the door.

“Cariño, they’re turning off the water tomor-” He stops dead in his tracks as he spots Pope.

“Cada día eres más feo,” Pope grins at Frankie’s stunned face before taking two steps and grabbing hold of his jacket, pulling him in for a bear hug. Frankie stumbles into him, hugging him back, still dazed.

“Pope..how?” He pulls back from the hug staring at his friend, his face splitting into a grin as he claps Pope’s shoulders, “Where the fuck did you come from, pendejo?!”

“I ran into your girl on the street, she told me you guys just got here and invited me over.” Pope’s grin is as wide as Frankie’s and he’s grabbed hold of the other man’s face, looking at him like he can’t believe he’s real.

“Fuck, you make it sound like you just dropped by for a fucking house warming,” Frankie says, pulling him in for another hug, “It’s fucking good to see you, hermano.” He lets go of Pope and, still grinning, kicks off his boots as Pope walks back to the living room. You’re leaning on the kitchen counter with a smile, looking at the two men reunite. Frankie comes over to you for a kiss before turning back to Pope.

“Where have you been, how did you end up here?” he asks, sinking down on the couch and Pope joins him, grabbing hold of Frankie’s shoulder. You grab three glasses and a bottle of whiskey Frankie had found while on patrol, you’d been meaning to use it to trade with but this was better use.

“Frankie,” Pope says, his voice suddenly serious as he looks at the other man, “I heard…about Lucía.”

Frankie gives a short nod and drops his eyes, looking at his hands for a second before he grabs one of the glasses, you can see his hands start to tremble.

“I can’t talk about it,” he says, before downing the whiskey, grasping hard at the empty glass as he looks up at you, seeking your support.

“I get it, man, I’m…” Pope drifts off, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Fuck.” He draws a deep breath and accepts the glass of whiskey from you, you refill Frankie’s and then your own.

“So you guys go to the cabin?” Pope asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah, we got there early Sunday evening, we saw your note and left for Lucía’s place early Monday morning.” you say, sitting down next to Frankie on the couch. “After…” you glance over at Frankie who’s dropped his gaze back to his hands, “after we went back to the cabin. And we stayed there until a few weeks ago, hoping any of you guys would turn up but no one did. We survived on Denny’s supplies but when they ran out we had to head out and find more. Things went bad and we got attacked by looters, they took the supplies we had left and held us prisoner at their farm.” You shudder at the memory, still too fresh in your mind. “Frankie got us out, killed them, but our supplies were lost so we had no choice but to come here.”

“I tried getting back to the cabin but I was injured,” Pope says, pulling up his shirt and showing a fresh scar on his right side. “I was on the bike, just as I was getting into Lucía’s town some fucking hillbilly took a shot at me. I crashed the bike, managed to kill the guy when he came after me, but then I lost consciousness. Next thing I know I woke up with a rifle against my chest, nearly got shot again.” Pope takes a sip of his whiskey, shaking his head at the memory. “It was a military convoy going through town collecting evacuees, probably the same one that picked up Lucía. They were killing anyone infected or injured but I told them I was Special Ops and they patched me up.” He looks over at Frankie’s who’s lifted his eyes and is looking at Pope as he tells his story.

“Frankie, if I’d known…they told me they were taking the whole town to the QZ, so I went with them…I…”

“It would’ve been too late,” Frankie shakes his head, “It wouldn’t have made any difference. I know how she got infected and it would’ve been too late even if you’d gotten there before the soldiers.”

You look over at Frankie, he’d never said anything about how she got infected before and as he sees your questioning look he takes your hand.

“It was the fucking pancakes, the box mix. FEDRA has information about the infection starting in the food supply, in cereal products like pancake mix. Her mom always used the fucking box mix even though I told her it was shit.” His shoulders sag and he takes another long sip of the whiskey.

“Fuck…” you breath, trying to process the information.

“I’d heard rumors about that too,” Pope says, “that’s what people are saying but FEDRA has never confirmed it.”

“Why do you think they serve only beans and rice to the soldiers?” Frankie says, looking over at Pope, “I’ve got fucking beans and rice coming out of my ears.”

“What happened after you got to the QZ, Pope?” you ask.

“It wasn’t set up like it is now, they had a temporary set up, blocked off streets with barricades while they set up a fence.” Pope shoves his hand through his thick hair, his eyes suddenly very tired, “I don’t remember much, I got septicemia, I was out of it for the better part of a month, they didn't have enough antibiotics, most of the supplies got destroyed in the outbreak. The major hospital here caught fire and burnt almost clean to the ground.” He leans back against the couch and sighs, “It’s not been good in here, by the time I was back on my feet the wall had gone up, FEDRA had taken control and they control who leaves the QZ, and who comes in. You’re not allowed to leave unless you’re being transferred to another QZ.” He looks over at Frankie, still in his uniform, “And you’re working for them, Fish?”

“Yeah, it was the only way we could get in,” Frankie says, “And it comes with benefits, but I’m starting to see some sides of FEDRA I don’t like.”

You nod next to Frankie, you’d heard the stories too by now. The staff in the kitchen would complain loudly about the food, the work they had to do, the accommodation, but never about FEDRA so that the supervisors could hear. But at breaks, and in whispered conversations in the dry good storage, you were told about the injustices in the system FEDRA had put in place. From small things like docking rations when you turned up late to work, to things that made your skin crawl, FEDRA soldiers abusing their power by demanding services from women in the QZ, especially those who didn’t have family to protect them. One of the women in the kitchen had looked at you with envy, “You'll be protected, your guy´s one of the officers, just make sure you know where he gets any extras he comes home with.” You’d told Frankie about the conversation and his eyebrows had furrowed, a dark look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve stayed away from them,” Pope says, “I gave them a fake name when they put me in the hospital.” You raise your eyebrows in a questioning look and he chuckles, “Some habits die hard, I try to stay under cover when I can.”

“So that’s why I haven’t seen your name on any of the lists of residents!” you exclaim, reaching over and slapping his arm, “We’ve been looking every day for you, pendejo!”

“You teaching her the bad words now, hermano?” Pope smiles and bats your hand away. “She definitely picked that one up from you, I’m sure,” Frankie retorts with a grin and you can’t help but feel happiness bubble up inside you as you see his smile, having Pope back was a god send, especially for Frankie.

“I’m gonna plate dinner, you guys wanna keep up with the whiskey or switch to water?”

“Water,” Frankie immediately says, “I have an early shift tomorrow.”

Dinner stretches on late into the night, despite Frankie needing to get up early the next day. You talk about your friends, about memories from before the outbreak, all three feeling the need for a break from the grim reality you now live in. Halfway through dinner Pope notices the ring on your left hand ring finger and grins big. “Congratulations,” he smiles and points to your hand and you grin as you look down at it.

“Thanks, Frankie decided to be a romantic despite the world ending.”

“Good job, Fish, told you she’d say ‘yes’.”

“You knew?” you ask with a surprised look on your face.

“Of course! I helped him pick the ring. Although, the one I suggested had much bigger diamonds, just so you know.”

Frankie gives him a friendly slap on the arm, “Shut up, you know why I picked this one and not your fake looking iceberg.”

“Why did you pick this one? I meant to ask you but I forgot with everything that happened.” You hold up your hand so that you can look at the thin gold band, three small diamonds in a row.

“Three diamonds, one for you, one for me, one for Lucía,” Frankie says, his voice low. “And room for more diamonds if we have kids together.”

“Frankie…” you whisper, taking his hand and pulling it to your heart. He gives you a small smile and Pope slaps his back.

“Go on, Fish, kiss her, I won’t look.”

That makes Frankie chuckle and he pulls you onto this lap, making the old chair creak under your combined weight as he holds you close for a long kiss, tangling his fingers in your hair until Pope clears his throat and pours more whiskey, calling for a toast.

In the end Frankie tells Pope to crash on the couch rather than walk home, the curfew is about to go into effect anyway. Frankie gives him the spare blanket as he pulls his sweater off, you disappear into the bathroom for a quick shower.

“I’m really happy she found you, man,” Frankie says, putting his hand on Pope’s shoulder, “It’s a fucking weight off my chest seeing you in one piece.”

Pope grabs Frankie and pulls him in for a hug, grabbing hold of the back of his neck to hold him tight. “Same, man, it’s good to see you. And I went through fucking hell leaving her at your apartment, Fish, but she wouldn’t leave you behind. And the relief when I saw her today, you have no idea. And then you too.”

“Yeah,” Frankie mumbles, his arms tight around Pope, “she’s been my rock, she never gives up on me. Even when I’m about to give up on myself.”

Pope pulls back, looking at his friend’s dark eyes, “Shit got dark, I almost walked away, after Lucía…” Frankie shakes his head, dropping his eyes from Pope’s steady gaze. “I knew I had to keep her safe, but then, when I got her somewhere safe, I was gonna leave, let her get on with her life without my broken ass. But she never gave up on me.”

“If you’d walked out on her, I would’ve tracked you down and slapped your sorry ass,” Pope’s voice is gentle despite his words as he pulls Frankie’s head against his so that their foreheads are touching. “I know the shit you’ve already gone through, Frankie, before all this, and I can see the shit you’re dealing with now. But you’ve got her, and you’ve got me, and I’m not fucking giving up on you this time either.”

Frankie gives a small nod, and Pope lets go of his neck.

“Better get some sleep, hermano, early start,” he says, picking up the blanket and shaking it out over the couch.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning, Pope,” Frankie says, giving the man’s shoulder a final squeeze before he heads into the bedroom. You join him a few minutes later after saying good night to Pope too. Curling up next to Frankie, his arms wrapping around you, you grab his cheeks between your palms, pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

“I’m never giving up on you either, Frankie.”

Early next morning Frankie drags himself out of bed and you follow him, getting breakfast ready for the three of you as he’s in the shower. Santi is sitting bleary eyed on the couch, rubbing the crust out of his eyes.

“How’d you sleep? Not sure how comfortable that couch is,” you say to him as you get the coffee going. Thank god for endless coffee shops, at least there’s plenty of coffee to go around for now.

“Between the whiskey, good food and finally knowing you guys are safe, I slept like a baby,” he yawns. “I was thinking though, we should try to get a message to Benny, see how things are in Arlington. Maybe it’s worth transferring there, team up with Benny and we could all go back to our old apartments, if they’re inside the QZ.”

“From what I hear, it’s not too hard to get a transfer, the difficult part is actually getting to the QZ,” you say, pouring milk into Santi’s coffee and handing it to him as he comes into the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t be using your rations on me, hermana, I’ll pay you back,” he says but accepts the coffee gratefully. You pour another mug for yourself and Frankie before you pull out the powdered eggs and tinned ham .

“Don’t be silly, Pope, you know it doesn’t work like that, we’re family, now more than ever.”

“I’m grateful anyway, you know that.” He hooks an arm around your shoulder, giving you a squeeze, before he sits down at the small table. Frankie ambles into the kitchen, pushing his fingers through his damp hair and grabs his coffee too before pulling out a frying pan to cook the ham while you deal with the “eggs”. Before long you’re all sitting down for breakfast.

“Pope thinks we should try to talk to Benny and see how things are in Arlington and maybe get a transfer.” You say to Frankie and he nods.

“I was thinking the same thing, we have a good chance of getting a transfer there as it’s our hometown. The trick is actually getting there in one piece, I’m not risking your life again, cariño,” Frankie puts his hand on your leg, but Pope shakes his head.

“I heard FEDRA does convoys with supplies between cities, you’re military, you’d get a lift with that, both you and her, no problem.”

“And you? How’d you get transport?” You ask, giving Pope a worried look, “you’re not even here under your real name.”

“I’ve made a few connections, a couple of people owe me big favors,” he grins, “I’m sure I can get a seat on a convoy.”

“Always making deals, always have a way, you don’t change, Pope,” Frankie says, looking at his friend who raises his coffee mug in mock salute.

“You know it, Frankie!”

“When do you think you can arrange for a radio call with Benny?” you ask Frankie. He’s the one who has the best chance at getting a radio call approved, with his rank in FEDRA.

“In a couple of days probably, I’ll put in the request today. I’ll try to schedule it for an afternoon that you’re not working, all three of us should be there.” Frankie looks over at Pope, “What are you doing for work? You’re not in FEDRA, but you’ve got to eat, right?”

Pope waves his hand in a vague gesture, “A bit of this and that, I do those daily jobs they’re always looking for people to do.”

“The stuff no one else wants to do?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, “I hear they’re really nasty jobs, burning bodies, sewage details, that kinda stuff.”

“Better me than some poor civvie,” Pope says with a shrug, “I’ve seen much worse, I can handle it.”

“Santi…” you say, shaking your head, “you could do a lot better than that, FEDRA will take you any day, you could patrol with Frankie.”

“And have Fish give me orders?” Pope chuckles, giving a mock salute at Frankie, who grins. “No, no offense, Fish, but I don’t think FEDRA is the way to go for me. There's a bit more to be done on the private side.” He drains his mug and pushes back from the table, getting to his feet, “Besides, I’m staying with a woman who’s good enough to share her rations when I bring home useful stuff.”

“What do you mean ‘bring home useful stuff’?” Frankie asks, looking up at Pope who’s got a sly grin.

“You know, stuff ration cards don’t cover, or stuff that’s hard to find. You know me, I always had a nose for finding useful things.”

“Pope, man, are you going outside the wall?” Frankie says, standing up and looking at his friend with knotted eyebrows.

“Never, too risky,” Pope says immediately and you both know he’s lying through his teeth with how fast his reply is. “Anyway, I’ve got to go, gonna go see if I can pick up a job today. Let me know when the radio call with Benny comes through, ok?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come find you as soon as I know,” Frankie says and Pope pulls him in for a hug. “Mantente a salvo, hermano.”

“Tú también.” Frankie claps Pope’s back before the younger man heads out the door.

“He’s definitely lying about not going outside of the wall,” you say to Frankie after Pope has left.

“Yeah, he’s a world class liar but not good enough for his friends,” Frankie shakes his head. “FEDRA puts people who got outside the wall in lock up, repeat offenders are locked up for good, transferred to a prison near San Antonio. I hope he’s fucking careful, both for his sake and for ours.”

“I just hope he doesn’t get himself infected,” you say, “I hate that I have to worry about him too now, not just you.”

Frankie takes your hand, taking the dirty dishes from you and putting them on the counter before pulling you into his arms. “Pope’s a big boy, he can handle himself, and he doesn’t need you worrying about him.” He leans down and puts his forehead against yours, looking at you so that all you can see are his warm, brown eyes. “Don’t worry, cariño lindo.”

“I can’t help it, I know what you face some days, and it scares me.”

“I’m better trained than almost everyone in FEDRA, and I’m extra careful, and do you know why?”

You shake your head gently, Frankie’s hands coming up to cup your cheeks, running his thumbs over the soft skin.

“Because I have you to come home too. Every decision I make when I’m out on patrol is based on you, coming home to you, that’s my priority, everything else comes second.” Frankie brushes his lips over yours, “Hermosa….” his warm breath ghosting over your skin, “Every morning I leave your warm body in our bed, and every second of every day it’s the one thing that keeps me going, knowing that I get to come home and crawl into bed next to you.” He presses his plush lips against yours and you feel yourself melt into him as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble into his mouth and he tilts his head, slipping his tongue in between your lips.

He is late that morning but only five minutes and when his C.O. asks why he says he was stopped by civilians asking for directions. And it turns out it’s lucky he’s late because everyone else has already gone down to check out their guns from weapons storage when the radio call comes in from Arlington QZ and he gets sent up to answer it.

“Franklin QZ, Captain Morales here. Go ahead Arlington, over.”

“Fuck me! Catfish! Is that you?!” Benny’s shocked voice comes over the radio, forgetting all radio commands.

“Benny!” Frankie yells down the microphone. “Yeah, it’s me! So good to hear your voice, man! How are you?!”

“I’m good, Fish! I couldn’t believe it when I heard you both made it to Franklin! I’ve been worried fucking sick about you and the rest of the guys!”

“I’ve got even better news, pal,” Frankie laughs, “Pope’s here too! Ran into him out of the blue and he’s been here the whole time, got here a few days after the outbreak.”

“No fucking way! That’s awesome” Benny laughs down the radio channel but Frankie swallows, he knows he needs to ask about Will and he braces himself for bad news.

“Benny, I’ve got to ask, is Will with you?” The silence that follows is telling and Frankie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his knuckles into the eyelids.

“No,” Benny’s voice comes back after a long pause, “I haven’t heard from him since the outbreak. I was meant to have dinner with him and Hannah that night, but then shit started popping off and when he didn’t come home Hannah and I got really worried. She stayed behind at their house, and I took the car to go look for him at the office. I tried getting to it but there were infected everywhere, and…” The line goes quiet for so long Frankie starts to think the connection’s been lost before Benny’s voice finally comes through the static. “The building was on fire, that restaurant by the entrance, something must’ve made it catch, because it was blazing. If he was still in the building…or in the street…”

“Pope said he’d spoken to a soldier from the New York QZ who mentioned a guy who sounded like Will,” Frankie says, just to give Ben some semblance of hope.

“I’ve asked everyone, Fish, every QZ we’re in touch with, no one has heard of William Miller.” Even through the crackling line Frankie can hear Benny’s deep sigh, “I’m not giving up but…Hannah’s grieving him, she doesn’t think he made it, and the more time that passes…” Benny’s voice drops off.

“I’m really sorry, Ben, I really am, man, but I’ll keep asking here too, ok?”

“Frankie, when Ingrid told me about you guys being in quarantine she said it was only you and your girl…?”

Frankie was expecting Benny to ask but he still feels his throat close up as the memory of his daughter surges to the surface and he clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms. He shakes his head, his eyes on his hands, before he remembers the other man can’t see him.

“She didn’t make it,” he presses out between his teeth and the tension in his voice lets Benny know, through the patchy radio line and miles that separate them, how fragile Frankie is. He’s quiet on the other end when Frankie lets go of the button, pressing it down on his end to speak but he can’t find the words, opening his mouth to say something but closing it again. Finally, after what feels like minutes he just breathes out a low Fuck over the airwaves.

“Yeah,” Frankie’s voice comes through, low and tight, and the silence stretches between them again untill Frankie shakes his head to clear it, “Listen, Benny, I’ve got to go, what’s the message for HQ?”

“Sorry, man, didn’t mean to keep you,” Benny says, picking up a folder at his end. “There’s a convoy coming through, ETA Monday next week. Three transfers, agreed upon supplies and ammo, all accounted for.”

“Ok, got it, I’ll pass it on.” Frankie responds, jotting down the information on the pad next to the microphone. “Listen, we were talking about applying for a transfer over to Arlington, all three of us, what do you think?”

“Yeah, absolutely man, put me down as a reference on the application, I’ll get it through. I don’t think Arlington is in any better state than Franklin but at least we’ll be in the same QZ.”

“Ok, good, we’ll get that done. I’ve gotta sign off now, Benny. Fucking great hearing your voice though, man.”

“Same, Fish, really fucking same, stay safe, all of you.”

Benny hesitates, Frankie can hear it in his voice, years of knowing Benny and he can all but see the look on the younger man’s face. “I’m really sorry about Lucía, I loved- love her.”

“Thanks, Benny,” Frankie pushes his nails into his palms again. “I’ll talk to you soon, man, ok?”

“Yeah, talk to you soon and see you soon, gonna be good, man.”

Frankie signs off and leans back in his chair, taking a moment to shove the memories of Lucía into the back of his mind before he goes on duty. He hears steps in the corridor and looks up, his C.O. looking in through the door.

“Everything ok, Morales?”

“Yes, sir, just gonna pass this message from Arlington to HQ.”

“Good, sign out your gun when you’re done and join Johnsson in the training yard.”

“Yes, sir”.

He pushes up out of the chair and gets to work, forcing his mind into soldier mode for the rest of the day.

Chapter 19

A note on how Pope greets Frankie: "Cada día eres más feo" (Every day you're uglier). It's what Frankie says to Pope when they greet each other in Triple Frontier (so it felt fitting to use here), except Pedro says something along the lines of "Ca´día más feo"if I'm hearing it correctly. I had to ask the latino husband and he says it's basically just sloppy Spanish, dropping half the words and mashing the rest together. So I went with the grammatically correct version, husband approved. 😅

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction

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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year

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I absolutely adore the chef/sommelier au and always find so much comfort in your writing. i have a few questions/prompts if you’re interested in any of these:

1) how did they meet? were they part of the same circles and crushing from afar until they finally had the chance to work together? or did they have a more classic meet cute?

2)Ava mentions that she knows Beatrice prefers to eat in the kitchen rather than the restaurant and I would be curious about any backstory behind how Ava came to learn this.

3) one of those foodie travel adventures where they eat their way through X city or cities

ok so this is no1 but has hints of the other two (which i love & will maybe write later!)

also i guess... this turned into platonic bea & lilith are in love. who knows lol

you've known beatrice for so long now, you really should've seen this coming.

for as annoying as she is, she's remarkably talented — something that had made you frustrated with her, and yourself, for years during culinary school. beatrice's food is true to who she is: wholly precise and quietly playful, elegant and creative, and really, really warm. thoughtful. surprisingly fun. you've always been able to tell: your technical skills are the best in the world, better than hers or anyone else you've ever met, and your palette is exquisite; you run a kitchen with quiet authority, and each dish comes out on time, exactly as it's supposed to. you are very good at your job. but beatrice makes food — elevated chinese and european fusion dishes, whatever she's most interested in at the moment — that makes you want to cry in its capacity to comfort. not that you would ever admit it, but you have stepped away to the bathroom on a handful of occasions to do just that.

she's more your sister than anything else — your little sister, you make sure to remind her — and so when chef superion had essentially ordered — encouragingly — beatrice into opening her own restaurant after five years of being chef de cuisine and, really, being the quiet driving force behind those three michelin stars, it hadn't even been a question to you that you would go with her. that you would help with the menu and everyday operations; the design and hours of operation; the sustainable sourcing for all of your dishes that she's always been so invested in. that part, while exhausting, had been fairly easy: mary and shannon, who own an urban farm, had been thrilled to partner, and you came up with a collaborative menu together. you were able to secure local seafood from a few suppliers, local ethical meat from your favorite butcher. camila, admittedly your favorite chef from superion's, young and absolutely kind, had agreed to come on and do pastry. you and beatrice had hired yasmine as your sous, trustworthy and smart.

you've been elbow-deep in planning — food, interior, front of house, all of it — for months. you're pretty sure beatrice works, like, twenty hours a day, and doesn't do anything but that. she eats takeout quickly in the kitchen, standing over a trashcan. every friday you barge into her condo and force her to eat greasy pizza and watch reality tv and share a joint. a year or so ago she had asked you to buzz her hair for her and you still do now, weekly, because she's neat and confident and loves efficiency and, according to many, many women unfortunately saying this to you directly whenever you drag her out for drinks, it's hot. she takes you to doctor's appointments and picks up your dry cleaning; she's the only person you let sharpen your knives for you, and the only person you'll share a bed with overnight if you're too drunk or stoned or tired to go home. she never says anything, never minds, just grumbles when her alarm goes off and grumbles sleepily in chinese while she makes herself an espresso.

and so, really, it's your fault. you should've known. you're not sure how you should've known, but you definitely should have.

'so,' you say, lowering yourself into the chair across from her immaculately neat desk in her office in the back, 'i think i found us a sommelier.'

your drinks menu is one of the last things you have to finalize, and beatrice has been so fucking picky about who to bring on to do so. cocktails hadn't been that hard; hans is competent and creative. but the wine pairings have been a pain in your ass: one sommelier was too old to have fresh, exciting ideas; one was a cis white man so beatrice automatically vetoed that, which, honestly, you didn't hate and definitely should've seen coming.

'and who is it?'

'ava silva,' you say, flick open your tablet to his profile: ava is young and renowned already, and has experience with local, natural wines and restaurants all over the world, especially europe, brazil, and east asia. she is, you realize later with a heartfelt deep annoyance, beautiful.

'ava silva,' beatrice repeats. she reads through ava's profile, her accomplishments and accolades and references. 'they worked with taian table.' beatrice hums. 'i've heard of them.'

'yeah.' you force yourself not to roll your eyes at her reluctance.

'ava is available to meet for a consult?'

'tomorrow, if you want. i can take care of the oyster tasting if that helps.'

she laughs, and you let yourself crack a smile. 'i don't even want to be a part of your oyster tasting, lilith.'

'just because i have fun —'

'sleeping with our supplier better not backfire on us, that's all i have to say.'

and maybe you should've realized right then, when beatrice's eyes lingered on ava's professional headshot on her website, on her impressive accolades. 'i am a consummate professional,' you tell beatrice.

she shakes her head, fondly, and leans back in her chair, runs a hand over her hair. 'fine,' she says, 'i'll take the meeting with ava.'

'great,' you say, relieved in the moment. 'what's the worst that can happen?'

very soon, unfortunately, you find out: beatrice is fucking insufferable. ava is even more insufferable, flirting with horrible humor and fond, relentless teasing. beatrice is, somehow, blushing and stumbling around like a schoolgirl, despite her attempts at being a serious, focused chef. she burns her hand on a pot, sets a towel on fire, and spills a red wine reduction all over her favorite apron the first time ava is coming to try a few dishes on the menu.

'jesus christ,' you say, maybe a little bit of a prayer, 'what the fuck, chef?'

beatrice groans. 'ava is... pretty.'

she says it reluctantly, like it's terrible to admit. ava is definitely annoying, but even you have eyes. 'yes, we all know after having to watch you fumble around during one meeting that you think ava is pretty.'

'and,' she says, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck, 'he's smart, and funny, and has an amazing palette.'

'well, he better.' you deflate a little; it's disarming to see beatrice this nervous, especially when it has nothing to do with her food being reviewed or rated. 'listen, beatrice,' you say, trying your very hardest to be gentle, just this once, 'this menu is gorgeous. i came up with eighty percent of it —'

'— you did not —'

'— so i can assure you that ava will love it, and that we can pair wines that will be excellent. and don't tell anyone i said this, or i legitimately will kill you, but you're an... impressive person. you're a remarkable chef. ava would be a fool to not see that.'

beatrice lets out a big breath. 'okay.'

'plus, it's kind of fun to see you trip all over yourself because of a crush.'

'i'm going to go change now.'

'yes, because you spilled because of a crush.'

'see you later, lilith.'

'yeah, yeah,' you say. 'i'll make sure to overcook the egg noodles, just for you.'

it's your fault, for sure, because you said yes to doing the food at their wedding — to make it worse, excitedly. it's gorgeous and it's a huge pain in your ass because there's, like, every cool chef in the world there, and a ton of Wine People, and beatrice has been traveling with ava filming something, so you've been running the restaurant. but still, beatrice gives you a hug and ava, terribly, kisses your cheek. they're both beautiful, and their backyard is full of edible flowers and herbs and vines with wine grapes. at one point, beatrice snags you by the hand to dance with her, which you protest for posterity and eventually give up on, as you always would have anyway. as you always have.

'thank you,' she says, 'for this. it's the best meal i've ever eaten.'

'i'm certain that's not true.'

she shakes her head; she's tan and has more freckles than you've ever seen on her, stretching across her cheeks — they'd gotten to film in brazil, apparently, where ava is from. but here it is, really: the whole world, right there, and beatrice has chosen to love you. she's chosen to want you as her sister, and you have always chosen her back.

'i'm really glad you're happy.'

'thank you,' she says. 'i am so happy.'

you roll your eyes. 'i know. it's nauseating.'

'lil.'

'after all of this, i want two weeks off when you're back from your honeymoon.'

'done.'

'well, a positive outcome, at the very least.'

she laughs.

'it's my fault, anyway. if i had just found a less beautiful, boring, straight sommelier...'

'i'm going to go dance with my wife now,' she says. 'love you.'

'yeah, yeah.' you squeeze her hand, linger for a moment in how softly she says wife, just because it's gentle and sweet and you don't hate seeing her this happy. 'love you too.'

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #before anyone asks no i will not write them romantically i simply do not have the desire or the range lol #but i guess in this entirely unplanned universe they are Sisters! Partners! In a v particularly fond kind of love!#bea n lilith grumbling soulmates #restaurant au

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moodywyrm · 1 year

Note

Okay okay can we talk about vi and periods?

I feel like hers are bad, but she’s always just pushed through them, she didn’t want to seem vulnerable or like a wimp since it happens every month. She tries to just ignore it, but once you get in the picture? You just want to take care of her. She’s hesitant at first, learning not to get attached, not to get used to intimacy, but once you finally break those walls down (it really didn’t take long, she’s desperate for affection), she absolutely melts. She lets you hold her, rubbing her stomach, if modern!AU you’d get her a heating pad while she lays with her head in your lap, whining every time you stop playing with her hair. She’s such a softie, she loves when you take care of her

For you, I feel like she’s such a natural caretaker with the people she loves, she’d immediately jump at the opportunity to do all the stuff you do for her, to you. She hates seeing you in any kind of pain, so she’s goes almost a little overboard making sure you’re feeling okay

I've been staring at this for days bc oh my god. Yes.

Vi was the leader of her little family, right under Vander. She literally Could Not show weakness because if she does, who are the others supposed to depend on? So when she started getting her period (at like 14), she learned real fast how to hide the pain of her Debilitating periods. You think it was hard hiding the pain from getting into fights in Zaun? Try concealing a vomit-inducing cramps, achy joints, pounding headaches, a lower back that feels like it's being yanked between two trucks, and boobs so sore a gust of wind makes you cry on top of it.

She got so used to being the caretaker that she didn't even hesitate when you two finally got together. She just immediately fell into the role whenever you got yours, cuddling you and feeding you your favorite foods, helping you bathe and pampering you however she can (However She Can. Baby ain't afraid of blood).

But you had known that she experienced really bad periods. You'd been friends for ages before you got together and you, loving her and being in love with her, caught on to her little winces, her slower gait, her extra caution for about one week a month. And you knew she was good at hiding pain, and you also knew she wouldn't let you take care of her just yet (you also didn't want to reveal your feelings just yet but that's neither here nor there).

But a month or two before you get together, she get's an awful fucking period. I'm talking baby woke up and bled through her clothes and also immediately vomited. You two already lived together, so when you heard her scramble out of her room at 2am, you're up and in the bathroom with her immediately.

You kneel down next to her on the bathroom floor, rubbing circles at her back and using one hand to keep her overgrown pixie cut out of her face,"It's okay, let it out."

And she does :( sweet girl is stuck over the toilet for another five minutes before she finally leans back against the edge of the tub, panting and wiping her mouth with the wet napkin you handed her. You immediately spot the mess of red on her grey sweats, and you wince.

"Oh honey, it's an extra bad one this time huh? Get those off, I'll bring you a change of clothes, just get in the shower," You're already hauling yourself up off the floor, constructing a mental checklist to help Vi feel better.

Get her clean clothes and a warm shower

In the meantime, change her bedding and soak in cold water. same with her sweats and underwear. Don't think about the fact that it's her underwear.

Get her something fatty and warm to eat, like a little bit of Jericho leftovers, and then give her pain meds and water.

??? Hol dher??? May Be??? If she lets you???

before you can even leave the bathroom, Vi is holding onto your leg with one warm hand.

"You don't have to do that pumpkin, I can handle it myself. Just go back to sleep."

But you can see the way she's cracking, nearly immobilized from the pain. She can't do this by herself, or she shouldn't have to. So you shush her and set upon your tasks, bringing her one of your t-shirts and a pair of her sweats plus some clean boxers, stripping her bed and bringing it to the bathroom sink to rinse it off in cold water.

It makes Vi feel better, to know you're so close. She's embarrassed because here is this beautiful, caring girl, sleep deprived and washing Vi's blood out of Vi's things. But she also feels ... good? Not physically, obviously, but there's something so nice about being taken care of. You're always doing that for her, taking care of her. Making sure she has breakfast and water, patching her up after fights, helping her clean up and repair her gauntlets.

It's only then that she realizes, I mean fully realizes, how much she wants to be with you. She loves taking care of you, but she also likes being taken care of by you. She like that she's allowed to let her guard down around you.

It hits her while she's showering, while she's getting dressed, when she meets you on the couch, when you're helping her eat and rubbing her back and her tummy to make sure she doesn't vomit again. She falls asleep in your arms, on your guys' couch, thinking about how much she wants to be with you.

It's no surprise that, not even two months later, she's yanking you into your apartment with a bruising kiss after winning a massive fight. You're her girl, her good luck charm, the one who takes care of her.

I have to leave for class in 26 min and I still have to do my makeup oh god oh fuck AH

#anon #arcane vi #arcane vi fluff #arcane vi x reader #arcane vi x reader fluff

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softstraykidshours · 2 years

Text

~skz & last minute dates~

pairing: ot8 stray kids x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanon

length: 554

warnings: alcohol mention, food mention

chan

he is constantly losing track of time because he’s so busy, so most of your dates are last minute. he’s really good at last minute dates though (because that’s basically all of them). he keeps a running list of ideas on his notes app, so he can make sure the dates are always different and so much fun.

minho

whether he had to plan last minute or just can’t think of an idea for a date, he’s always going to resort to cooking with you at home. ever since he learned you have no idea how to cook, he’s made it his personal mission to teach you, so a cooking date is the perfect excuse. plus since he doesn’t really like pda, at home dates are the best, because he will openly shower you in affection.

changbin

you are going to the gym for a couples workout. you high key low key hate it, but play along because you know he’s trying his best. plus afterwards, you can relax on the couch, and he will rub your feet while you watch a movie.

hyunjin

he’s taking you to a painting/art class. if he can’t get in anywhere last minute, he will set up a personal class with just the two of you in his art studio. there will be snacks, wine, soft music, etc. it may be last minute, but he’s still adding as many little details as possible.

jisung

he’s going to take you to the movies where you’ll both be eating lots of junk food and popcorn with wayyy too much butter on it. his favorite thing is to come up with little games for you two to help decide what movie you’re going to watch. if he doesn’t have time to think of something, he will have you pick a random movie based on the title alone.

felix

he’s ready for a picnic in the park at any time. and this isn’t just a run of the mill, boring picnic. he’s got a fancy blanket, comfy pillows, an aesthetic charcuterie board, delicious dessert, champagne in actual glasses, the cutest basket. you don’t know how he does it, because sometimes he will be so busy he forgets it’s date night until ten minutes before you have to leave, but somehow he still never misses anything.

seungmin

you two are going bowling, and it will probably be in the grossest bowling alley he can possibly find (because low key he knows those are the most fun). like the kind of a place that has a kind of weird smell that will follow you home and that probably hasn’t been cleaned properly since it was built. also the bathrooms literally have carpet on the walls. you’re gonna eat the greasiest pizza and have a wonderful time (even though seungmin is making every round a competition of who can do better). sometimes he’ll mix it up and take you to really weird themed mini golf.

jeongin

when he has to come up with a last minute date, he’s always resorting to taking you to dinner. it’s a classic, and he knows you love trying different places, so he’s taking you to a new restaurant every time. he is also constantly asking the other members for recommendations of good places he can take you.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan imagines #lee know imagines #changbin imagines #hyunjin imagines #han jisung imagines #felix imagines #seungmin imagines #jeongin imagines #stray kids #ot8 #stray kids headcanons #headcanons #mine #soft stray kids hours #stray kids and last minute dates #q: painting with hyunjin

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haruhar-u · 6 months

Text

the first chapter of that book thing I’m talking about

CWS for this chapter: None

CWS for the series:

Series summary:

Falling From The Stars is about the band Ametrine’s rise to fame and their fall from it.

A/N: wrote this in February so the writing style will be slightly different

Beta read and edited

That’ll be 12.50.” An obviously overworked woman who looked like she worked multiple jobs by the look of her eye bags says from behind the counter.

I rummage in my jeans pocket, pen cap without a pen, crusty pennies, old candy wrappers, then finally crinkled 20 dollars bill. I must’ve looked like a disorganized train wreck to any passerby. Luka you’re 22 put yourself together. You probably look like a fucking train wreck. I put the 20 dollar bill onto the counter and the overworked woman hands me the food I ordered.

“Uhm keep the change.” I say just loud enough for her to hear. This was my friend’s dad’s restaurant, I want to help out somehow.

The food felt warm in my hands as I walked through the busy streets of Manhattan. There was a mix of tired locals and overly excited tourists. Then I drove about 5 minutes back to my apartment to give my fiancé the food I brought.

He’s so studious that he barely takes care of himself enough. I went up, opened the door and threw the leather pouch I carry to the side.

“Oh hey Luka.” Rui glances up from his work, eye bags quite noticeable (probably his pharmacist school stuff) then looked back down and continued working. I lean over him to take a look at what he was studying, his jet black red streaked hair was greasier than ever. Do you even wash it anymore?. He had recently overworked himself to the point where he caught a cold. He still wasn’t fully recovered, I could tell from him sniffling and the amount of tissues he had surrounding him. It was exhausting looking after him then to say the least as he would never stay in bed without study material for more than 5 minutes.

I put what I had brought him on the table. “I think you should take a break and eat, plus you’re still sick aren’t you?”

“I’m fine, I swear, thanks for the food I guess.” He doesn’t even look up. His voice sounded deeper which usually is a tell tale sign to attempt to convince him to go to bed early tonight.

“Explain the tissues.”

“I just still have a runny nose.”

I nod, I guess I believe him, his explanation lines up with the timeline. I just hope he learns that A grades aren’t everything, because they aren’t. My friend Tian basically lives by that saying. I think should point out that Tian and Rui are pretty much opposites when it comes to that though.

“I think I should probably head over to Micah and Tian’s. I told them I’d be there at noon and it’s half past now.”

“Alright, bye. Love you.” Rui mumbled, again not glancing up.

“Love you.” I gently placed a kiss on the top of his head, grabbed my small leather pouch —which I keep important stuff in such as my keys, inhaler, credit card— and headed out.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･

I pull into their driveway. It was a pretty nice house, a garage where we keep our instruments, decently sized, 4 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms I think. Micah brought it when he was only 18. I’ve always wondered how the hell he was able to afford it right out of high school and after moving from Australia to New York City. Then again I presume he’s quite rich from his posher Australian accent, one of the ones that sound almost British.

Tian moved in with him 2 years after Micah originally bought the place and I think Micah likes the company since he seems a lot happier now.

I walked up the front door and opened it with my key. To us it wasn’t weird that I had their key and they had mine, it’s like when you’d give your key to a close relative. The house was half messy and half clean due to Micah messing up the house and Tian’s attempts to clean up after Micah. I walked into their garage where we said to meet.

Micah looks up at me from tuning his bass. He had his shoulder length hair dyed amethyst purple which was different from his previous colour “You’re a bit late.” I was almost an hour late.

I sheepishly ran my hand through my hair, embarrassed. “I had to run an errand.”

“Ah! Understandable, have a nice day!” Micah had that goofy grin on his face that he was quite known for. “Also you forgot your guitar here since last time”

“Oh that's where it was. Also, did you dye your hair again?”

“Mhm. I thought the amethyst colour would suit the band since it’s called Ametrine”

“It suits you, also, where's Tian?” I glance around the garage, his drum set was still there. Wait no that’s stupid he wouldn’t carry that thing out, he wouldn’t even attempt it, he’d rather leave it here and play video games upstairs later.

“Hmm.” Micah puts a hand on his chin, “probably asleep behind his drum kit. I think he was playing Valorant all night. Wait, actually I think I heard him aggressively drumming along to Chop Suey at 3 am. ” He then put his bass back onto its stand.

Both of us looked behind the drum kit to see Tian sitting on a pillow, playing something on his Nintendo switch with noise cancelling headphones.

“Tian!” Micah calls as a weak attempt to get Tian’s attention. “Tian Wu!” He even attempts using his full name as if that’d change something

Somehow that works and Tian looks up at Micah, “What is it Micah Torres” he said with a smirk, probably deciding to humour Micah using his full name. “Oh, Luka’s here.” He nods his head as a greeting which I nod back. “Give me a sec. Gotta save”

“Luka, I tuned your guitar for you already, fyi. Thank me later!” Micah tells me, literally saying FYI.

“Alright, thanks. I’ll tune your bass for you next time.”

Micah put a hand on my shoulder and grinned again. “No worries! Run your errands instead!” He grinned again.

“Are you sure?” I felt like I was in debt to him. He definitely didn’t need to tune my guitar for me but, he did anyway.

“Yeah! Of course mate!”

“Alright, are we just jamming today or recording a cover?” Tian asks, standing up then plugging in his switch which he had in the corner.

“Uhm..” Micah goes over to the wooden table in the corner and grabs a black notebook off of it and flips to a page somewhere in the middle “We have Under Pressure on our cover list, Luka do you think we’re ready to record yet?

“Hu-huh why are you asking me!?” In my opinion just because I’m the lead vocalist that doesn’t mean I get to make all the decisions. I was texting Tian earlier and we both agreed Micah has the best judgement out of the 3 of us and should be leader anyway.

“You’re our front man and lead vocalist. That's why!” Micah declares, handing me my guitar and picking up his bass again. “Also, Tian what is ‘Those Three Words Unsaid’? You wrote it under ideas.”

Tian turns slightly red in the face, “Oh it’s nothing really…I uh yeah.” He glanced the floor and wouldn’t even look Micah in the eye. “I uh I-I was drunk when I wrote that.”

“Uh huh.” Micah’s expression shows he’s quite skeptical (Tian doesn’t drink) however I think he could probably tell Tian was uncomfortable with answering, and decided not to question him any further “Luka? Your thoughts on whether we should record or not?”

I attempt to remember what our last practice sounded like I can’t completely remember, thanks to me having the same memory as Dori the fish. “I suppose we should practice it once and see where we’re at from there.”

“I don’t think we should record today.” Tian pipes in. “I mean I’d have to bring down the camera and all the mics from upstairs and then we’d have to repeatedly reshoot to get it perfect , I also don’t think I got the drums correctly yet.”

I nod in agreement, “I think our 300 YouTube subs can wait a bit.” I’m fine with just our 300 subscribers, they didn’t really comment other than the occasional thumbs up emoji usually from Micah and I’s parents . I can tell Micah on the other hand wants the attention, he wants to be famous and he wants to perform for large crowds he deserves it too, meanwhile I feel like I’m holding him back, he’d be able to live out his dream if he wasn’t stuck with me, but oddly I can’t bring myself to leave either.

“We could run through a few songs then go out to eat or something?” Micah suggests

“Sure, where?” I ask

“How about Tian’s dad’s restaurant. Maybe Tian can get us a discount.” Micah chuckles

“No. I uhm I had too much Chinese food recently…” Tian responds nearly instantaneously. This usually happens whenever his dad is brought up. I don’t bring up his dad anymore because of it.

“The last time you had non-western food was when my Abuela came over from Australia and made you tamales. That was a month ago.” Micah points out

Tian looks up at Micah with widened eyes like a puppy begging for a treat. “Maybe she can—“

Micah laughs “Abuela went down to Mexico to visit more relatives so no, she cannot come over and cook for us. She did tell me she thought you were a very nice boy, so I think she’d be willing to cook for you again though.”

Tian looks dejected once Micah says his Abuela cannot come over and cook but perks up again after he said she’d be willing to cook for him again. Typical Tian, on occasion he acts a lot younger than his age from what I noticed anyway . “Can you tell her I think her cooking tastes very good.”

“Yeah sure! I’ll ask her if Luka can come next time as well!”

“Also, Luka, do you think Rui would want to join us tonight?” Tian asks

“He already ate I think, plus exam season is coming up so he’s been shutting himself inside. Hikikomori as his siblings call him.”

“Wish him luck for us!” Micah says.

I nod. “I think we’re getting off topic now.”

Micah laughs “Shit.”

Then without any communication we start to play, we mess up more than once, Tian missing a beat, my voice not getting as high as I need it to be —in my defence I didn’t warm up—. Hours fly by like minutes as we were getting off track and instead of practicing only Under Pressure, we play an assortment of songs such as Clumsy, Lithium, My Hero, Famous Last Words, S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W and Somebody told me. It'll be a miracle if my throat isn’t sore tomorrow, since I didn’t warm up at all.

“Can we stop to get some food..” Tian’s the first one of us to speak up.

“Actually, I think we should stop for the night, Luka could injure his voice.” Micah points out, agreeing with Tian. He probably knows that I wouldn’t speak up for myself otherwise. I feel like I’d be letting them down if I did.

I nod and put my guitar back in its case with my amp right next to the case, making a mental note to bring it back home and not just leave it here again.

“I’m going to order a pizza.” Tian mutters, pulling out his phone from his bag, then glances at Micah who gives a thumbs up and gestures somewhere for some reason. “Pineapples or no, this is very important.”

That turned into a whole debate between Micah and I over pineapples or not. Pineapples do great on pizza, I have no idea what he’s talking about. Honestly that was the stupidest debate I’ve been in ever. I stay over at their place, (Micah and Tian just got Just Dance, how could I say no to that even though I absolutely suck) until about midnight.

Tag list: @xen-blank @edith-is-apparently-a-cat @krenenbaker @the-banana-0verlord

#oc content #my writing #writers on tumblr #oc writing #ocs #my ocs #my oc stuff #oc stuff #original character #original novel #Idk how to tag this

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