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writersdrug · 15 days

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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

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Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

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zeltqz · 11 months

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unwind with me | haruchiyo sanzu

pairing. ex bf!sanzu x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

synopsis. when sanzu doesn't take you breaking up with him seriously.

content. mentions of murder (bonten antics), pills, sex under the influence, sanzu being in denial, clingly obsessive haruchiyo, toxic relationship, sanzu broke into your house, so implied stalking ig? no violence though

taglist. @insayninthamembrayn @mrsharuchiyo @thisbicc @Mishueb @littleoanh @gennysuga @wenumsmol @foreshadxw @meuw02

authors note. IM BACK BITCHES (kinda sorta idk) i know i promised to post like days ago but things happened so..........yeah my fault my fault

“This is me,” you said with a small smile to your date. The uber driver stopped outside your house as you dug through your bag for your keys.

“I had fun today,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours. His warm brown eyes stared at yours as you fought back the urge to kiss him. It’s late, the sun set long ago, the black sky littered with stars and the mood was just perfect. If there was another moment to kiss him it was now.

As if he was thinking the same, his eyes dropped down to your lips as his tongue darted out to wet his own. You leaned forward first, closing what little gap was left between both your bodies and you kissed him, slow and sweet.

The driver watched the slow kiss through the mirror and frowned. “How adorable. But you need to leave my car. I have other stops to make.”

The two of you pulled away, having forgotten your surroundings and you cleared your throat, bidding goodbye to your date and the driver and slid out of the car. When you looked back at the car, he had his hands in a phone gesture and mouthed Call me , making you giggle as the car drove off. You bit back on a shit-eating grin as you made your way up to your door. If it wasn’t for the love struck haze in your mind, you would’ve noticed how weird it was that your door was already unlocked.

Stepping inside your house, you flicked on the light, humming to yourself as you kicked off your shoes. You grabbed a sorry snack from the fridge and began to dig into it as you thought back to your day. This was the fifth date your friends set you up on this week alone. Each of them were exhausting and boring; the men mediocre at best, only talking about themselves the entire time and rarely asking you questions about yourself, your job or your life.

Today however, exceeded all your expectations. Not only was he nurturing, kind, and caring, he also paid for all your things despite telling him you could afford it, listened to you talking about your life and remembered bits and pieces to bring up later. It shocked you when he remembered a short joke you made earlier and even brought it up later causing you to break out into laughter.

Despite being the lovely person he was, there was still something missing. Compared to your ex boyfriend who quite frankly was crazy. You shook your head, refusing to think about Haruchiyo right now when you’re trying to move on.

With a sigh, you walked over to your living room with the intent to watch some TV, and yelp when you see Haruchiyo reclining on your couch like he lives here. Like you didn’t break up with him last week. He even had the audacity to put his filthy shoes on your furniture just because he can.

“Get out.”

He looked away from the TV and over to you. With the darkness in the living room, his face looked even more haunting as the TV screen lit up half of his face, his mouth stretched into a chilling smile that sent shivers down your spine. If you had something other than a teaspoon in your hands right now you would’ve dashed it at him.

“But you just got here…” he said with a frown.

“And you need to leave. Right now. B—before I call—”

“Call who? The police? You know Bonten basically controls them, right?” He leaned back against the couch, stretching his long arms out and smirked at you. “I practically own them. They worship me baby.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. I won’t call the police. But you need to get out.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, all teeth at you. “Nice to see you too.”

You felt like you had 400 pound shackles on your feet with how heavy your footsteps were, but you stopped in front of the couch. “Why are you here?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Can I not see you? Check up on you?” The fact he looked genuinely confused made you want to rip your hair out.

“You have a phone. I have a phone.”

“You blocked me,” he cut you off, narrowing his eyes.

You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting back a scoff. “Take the hint.” You leaned closer to his face, hoping the closeness would make your words actually enter his ears not float past him. “We. Broke. Up. I do not love you anymore.”

Haruchiyo hummed, stroking his chin, looking up at the ceiling. “No…No I don’t recall us breaking up.” He looked back down and smiled playfully when he watched your serious face fall. “I remember you telling me to fuck off and die though. That’s what you told me.” He shrugged. “Nothing about breaking up though.”

“Huh?” You blinked at him, hands clenched to your side. “It’s common sense!” You took a deep breath, stepping away from him to pace around your living room, all the while he just leaned forward, grabbed the snack you dropped on the table and began to eat it.

“You know what. Fine.” You crossed the room once more, stopping in front of him. “I want to break up.”

He shook his head taking a bite of the Oreo. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I want to break up.” You meant every single word and you noted the exact moment he realised you weren’t playing around. His mouth fell into a flat line and his eyebrows creased as he frowned.

“You don’t mean that,” he repeated, standing from the couch. You took a step back when he kept walking towards you until you hit the wall. His eyes flashed dangerously as he glared down at you. “Take it back.”

“No,” you spat back, holding your ground. Deep down you knew it wasn’t right for you to be provoking him like this, not with a track record like his. But you were sick of being submissive. “I—I mean every word.” You had to force the words out, hoping with each passing the weakness inside you left with it.

But the second you stuttered it all went to fail.

His smile only grew. “That so?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Why’s that?” He pouted, his whole demeanour condescending as he brushed his hand over your cheek. The faint tingle of his fingers brushing along your skin had your lip trembling, fighting the urge to flinch away from his touch. He’s so scary. “C’mon, tell me why? What did I do?”

You swallowed the thick lump in your throat. “You’re dangerous, Haru.”

He snickered a little. “Common knowledge, sweetheart.” He moved his hand down to your chin, fighting your face up to his eyeline. “What else?”

From the corner of your eye, you can’t miss the tattoo on his forearm. The permenant, constant reminder that Haruchiyo will always be who he is. When you first saw the tattoo, you let ignorance consume you, thinking he just liked the design, but now you know the true meaning behind Bonten and their motives, you know Haruchiyo’s job excuting people he thinks are traitors. The fact when you asked for his body count and he only shrugged made you want to puke. You can’t look at the tattoo the same anymore, neither can you look at him the same.

“You kill people.”

“So?”

“So?” You blinked uselessly at him. “Are you serious? Y—you can’t just kill people Sanzu! It’s—”

“It’s Haru to you.” He had the audacity to roll his eyes but at least he removed his hand from your face. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

You crossed your arms together and shook your head. “No. Not anymore.”

His lips twitched up into a smile, the corners of his scars following suit. Those same scars you used to kiss every night and tell him they’re beautiful and unique do nothing but scare you even more. “Do you remember what you used to say to me?” he started, slowly tilting your head to the side by your chin.

“I used to say a lot of things.” You swallowed harshly, hoping he doesn’t feel the tremble of your jaw.

“You said that you love me,” he muttered, distracted by your lips and how sexy they looked under your ceiling light, “that you cared about me…swore that you’d never leave me—”

The memories of each moment fill your mind, the images of kissing him goodbye, squeezing him tight and begging him to stay before he could leave, pouting when he told you he couldn’t stay the night because he had “work to do”.

Vaguely, you wonder that if you knew what ‘work’ consisted of, would you have let him stay the night?

“That was before…”

“Before what?” He looked at you confused, intrigued.

You took a deep breath, swallowing your emotions down. “Before you lied to me about who you were and what you did!” Your voice got higher the more you spoke, and you hated the way you sounded and the way tears fell down your face. “I fell in love with the guy before I figured out who you were. You’re a fucking murderer and I don’t love you.”

The silence was deafening, filled with nothing but the dull sound of your AC, the water from the tap dripping slowly into the sink, and the sound of your heavy breathing as you tried to calm yourself down.

He backed away and started laughing. It was a low chuckle that slowly erupted into something more, a full fit of laughter and you couldn’t help but feel so small, like the punchline of some unknown joke.

“What’s—what’s so funny?”

He can’t stop laughing, even after he slapped a hand over his mouth to conceal it. “Nothing—nothing. It’s just—fuck. You’re so dumb.”

“I—” You blinked at him.

“You knew exactly what you were getting into when you dated me. You’re not fooling anybody with this act of yours. You like the thrill, don’t you? You had this mindset that you thought you could change me, right? That’s what this is about?”

“I didn’t— No. I di—”

“No,” he cut you off, standing in front of you again. He placed his hand on your waist and tugged you closer. “You did. You just don’t want to accept the truth.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fought back a whimper when you felt his lips by your ear, your legs turning weaker by the second when he whispered, “You can’t accept the fact you’re in love with someone like me.”

You inhaled sharply when he licked your earlobe. “I don’t love you.”

He hummed softly by your ear, and you hated how the sound calmed you. If it wasn’t for the fact your heart was beating so fast it might as well have jumped outside of your chest, you know you would’ve forgot about everything he did or made you feel and melted into his touch.

“Why don’t you love me?” His lips tickled your ears as he whispered, voice full of emotion and it almost pained you to spend another second with him this close to you. His face turned, his nose sliding against your cheek leaving a compellingly warm trail until he stopped by pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It was far too short for your liking, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved when he pulled away, untrusting of your own body to have the strength to pull away yourself. “What did I ever do to you?”

“N—nothing…”

“So why do you hate me?” When you shook your head and tried to look down at the ground, he lifted your head up back to his.

“Stop it,” you grumbled, trying to shake out of his grip but froze when he pressed his forehead against yours. Green eyes peeked down at yours, and your stomach ached when you saw the heat in his eyes. “I don’t hate you Haru… I just—” You struggled to find the words for the sudden inner turmoil you were facing regarding your feelings. “I don’t know.”

“So you love me? Hm?” He nudged your face back to his when you looked distracted. “C’mon.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. You love me just like I love you. Look at me.” He gently shook you. You flicked your eyes up at him, shiny with your tears that had his thumb tingling to wipe it off, or lick it off. Either option has him satifised.

Licking your tears though will probably creep you out even more and it took him this long to calm you down, the last thing he’d want is to scare you off again. So he chose the latter, wiping your tears away as he shushed you.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I got you.” You started to cry harder to the point he needed buckets to clear it all away. He pushed your head into his chest and you wrinkled his shirt with how hard you gripped it, and sobbed silently. “You’re getting my shirt wet, baby.”

“Shut up,” your voice was watery as you stifled a laugh, embracing him in a tight hug. The tears didn’t stop until he pulled your face away, holding you with one big hand on your cheek.

“Lemme make you feel better, baby.” He doted kisses along your cheeks. You shook your head and snifled.

“I can’t.”

“You can. Look at me.” There was a hint of demand in his voice that had you forcing yourself to meet his gaze. He licked his lips as he looked searchingly across your face. He was leaning forward and your eyes squeezed shut when he met your lips in a kiss.

His hand slid down to your back, pulling you towards him till your chests touched. Your arms ached with the need to hold him back, wrap his arms around him to embrace him the way you want him to.

“Haru, n—” He sloppily kissed you again, pushing you back against the wall.

You moaned into his mouth when he moved his hands to your ass, squeezing and holding it in a painful grip as his tongue devoured your mouth, licking along yours. He always kissed sloppily, loving nothing more than to pull away and watch the string of spit break. One of his hands moved upwards to carress your waist, squeezing gently as he slowly slid up your shirt, his fingers tickling your stomach moments later.

You broke the kiss to switch angles, holding him by the back of his neck, pressing your chest as close to his as possible in an unspoken request for him to go further. He lifted you off the floor and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Your mind was screaming at you for letting yourself slip between the cracks of Haru’s fingers again, but your body was aching, rolling with heat that only Haruchiyo could extinguish.

With that, he flopped you onto your bed, kneeling between your legs and started to unbutton his shirt. “I missed you so fucking much,” he said, throwing his shirt somewhere into the dark corner of your room.

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from saying it back.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, digging into his pants pocket for a baggie of MDMA pills. He placed one on your tongue, and slotted one on his, letting it dissolve on his tongue before leaning down to lick into your mouth. This was the level of sloppiness he’s craved, rolling his tongue against yours, sucking on it until you caved, running your hands along his chest until they reached his pants.

You hooked a finger into his belt loop, unbuckling the item and sliding it off him. He broke the kiss to look down at your hands as they disappeared into his pants, his mouth dropping open as you brushed his cock lightly. “F—fuck…”

“Feel good?” You whisper in his ear, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

“Yeah,” he murmurred, leaning down to lay a littany of sloppy kisses down your neck and chest. You lifted your arms up and helped him remove your shirt before he was groping your chest.

His hands slid under your body and unfastened your bra, tossing it in the same direction he disposed of his shirt. “Never seen someone with better tits than yours, fuck.” He sat back and squeezed them together, enjoying the sight of his hands alone covering your whole breast. “You’re so sexy.”

His head lowered close enough until he latched onto a nipple, his tongue circled around it as he licked and sucked. Your chest stuttered in your chest as his warm mouth made you dizzy. “Haru.”

“Hm?” He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. “What’s wrong?”

The effects of the pill had your mind blanking and sensations intensifying. Every vein in your body was on full alert as you felt the raw jittery energy run through them. “Keep going.”

He grinned as he watched your trip start and began sucking down your stomach. Your hands bunched up his hair, unaware of the tight grip you possessed when his tongue stopped above your abdomen. He all but ripped your pants off, leaving your underwear on and continued his journey to your thighs.

“Haru, come on,” you whispered, impatient. You were just as hungry to see him between your legs as he was to eat you out.

“Fuck…you look really good…” he murmurs as he raked his eyes down your body, focused on the spread of your legs. He hooked his finger under your panties and tugged on it, your slick attaching to his finger and he licked his lips. “So wet already?”

“...shut up.”

He chuckled and began pulling your panties down. Two big palms spread your legs to make enough room for his face. His eyes sparkled with admiation like he’s eyeing the worlds holiest relic. The moonlight bouncing from the window only made your wet folds glisten, paired up with the way the drugs melted through his system made his mouth water. He got a little lost in the moment when he slides a finger through your folds, relishing in the hitched moan that left your moan.

How he missed that sound. How he missed your sounds.

Your little breathless ‘please’ was lost behind closed ears when he licked a long stripe on your cunt. A muffled slur of his name slipped from your mouth as he slowly ate you out, focusing on the way your wetness felt on his tongue. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking obscenly so that your back arched off the bed.

Drinking from you is so addictive and sweet he thinks he might cry if he has to pull away. He pulled you closer, your body being dragging along the sheets as he continued to devour you. The closer your body was, the more hungry he felt, and his nails dug into your numb thighs painfully.

His tongue lazily licked up and down at your clit until your legs were squeezing his head, shifting restlessly on the bed to get him away from you.

“H—haru, fuck fuck fuck,” you whimpered, pulling his hair aggressively as your body shook with pleasure.

“Not yet, baby. I’m not done,” he spoke into your pussy, moving back to your clit. “Wanna lick you dry, holy shit.”

“I can’t—” You whined, trying to push him off you. After a couple more scratching and tugging, he pulled away, the bottom half of his face soaked in your slick.

“If you can’t even handle my tongue, how can you handle my cock?” As if to prove his point, his cock was thick and hard in his boxers when he stood up, moving to kneel between your legs.

Watching Haruchiyo strip was like a holy rite, the way his dick sprung out from his boxers. Especially when he began palming his length, pushing more and more precum from the tip with each jerk. Your mouth watered as you sat up slowly to get on your knees, moving to the end of the bed where he stood.

You wrapped a hand around his cock, making his hips jerk forward when you began to lap at the bead of precum beading at the tip. He let out a faint moan at the way your lips suctioned around his cock, the warmth of your mouth making his head spin the lower you sunk down.

“Just like that…” he bit his lip drawing blood as you started to bob your head up and down. Your jaw ached from the stretch and it took everything in you not to choke, but you wanted to please him, so you endured it and took him as far in as you could.

The second your nose brushed his pelvis, his hand flew to the back of your head and held you down there, head thrown back, mouth flopped open as he let out puffy breaths with each passing second your throat convulsed around his cock.

He pulled you off and positioned you onto all fours, rubbing and smacking at a single cheek. “You know what you do to me?” He licked his lips, moving his cock between your thighs and began to slowly fuck them.

The heat of his cock plus the wetness between your legs made you slowly fuck back, face tucked between your arms. His cock is nestled perfectly between your thighs and to tempt him more, you squeeze your thighs together, fighting back a laugh when he groans.

“Oh, it’s like that huh?” He pulled out and you never felt more empty despite him not even fucking you yet. “You wanna keep that same attitude in five seconds?”

“Wha— fuck!” you moaned out, nails scratching the sheets when he sheathed himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh my god! F—fuck!” Your body bounced back against him as he held your hips, fucking into you like you’re a fuck toy, submissive and pliant.

He threw his head back, closing his eyes as your pussy squeezed and gushed around his cock. He fucked you till you’re stuffed, your walls dragging along his cock with every thrust.

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbles, voice borderline shaking. He stopped moving and spanked you again, making you jolt. “Fuck back onto it.”

“N—no,” you managed to stutter out, still keeping your stubborn demeanour.

“No?” His thrusts came to a stop.

“Don’t stop.” You frowned, straining your weak muscles to look behind you, but he shoved your face back into the sheets.

He bent forward until his back was flush against yours, and spoke into your ear. “I said fuck back onto it.” He dug his hands into your hair and lifted you up. “You gonna do as I say?”

“Y—yes.” He let go of your hair and moved back and watched with wild eyes as you slowly pushed off his cock and back down. “O—oh my god,” you moaned out, digging your face back into the sheets as you continued fucking yourself on his cock. Every now and then he’d slap your ass and groan into your ear, all sinful and low enough to spur you on and go crazy on his cock even more.

Sanzu practically felt your whole body go numb as you silently screamed into the sheets as your body trembled. Your orgasm was intense and he snapped his hips forward, making your silent scream a yelp as he pinned you back down to the bed, fucking into you with the intent of cumming inside you. You could feel his hips stutter and after a couple seconds, he slammed once more then there was a wet squelch and a moan followed by heavy panting.

He pulled out and sat back, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Your body was stiff and limp and the lack of energy made it hard for you to move. After a couple seconds, you heard him slide off the bed and begin looking around your room for his clothes. In the time it took him to change back into his clothes, you managed to lift yourself enough to roll over onto your back.

After fixing his belt, he pulled out his phone and read a message from Mikey before putting it back into his pocket. “I gotta go. Got more business to take care of.” He winked at you, taunting you now that you know the meaning behind his ‘business’ and swiftly shut the door behind him.

#—tr </3 #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu imagines #haruchiyo smut #sanzu smut #tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers x reader

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

secrets out - m.verstappen

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: mentions of pregnancy + anxious thoughts + mentions of hookups + instagram au at the end

photo credits: Pinterest

a/n: I’m starting to like max but I’m still a Ferrari girl 🫡 also please do not ever ask me to do a instagram au that was a lot of work and I was sweating because of it I don’t know how some of you can do it!

most friendships between a man and a woman never stay platonic. the key word was most, and unfortunately you fell into that category because for a little over a year your childhood best friend became your fuck buddy.

you’re not sure when it started or how it happened, but it was an evening you wouldn’t forget because it change the trajectory of both of your lives forever.

you could barely be in the same room for long without feeling that sexual magnetic pole pull you from the across the room and under the sheets. you barely had conversations anymore, most of your time consisted of raw passionate sex.

and that’s what’s led you to this moment. sitting on the cold hotel bathroom tile hunched over the toilet. you swore to max it was just the alcohol or food poisoning, but he’s not confident in your answer. not since it’s been two mornings in a row you’ve ended up like this.

“I’ll see you at the paddock?” he leans behind your body, hand pressing against your forehead to check your temperature. he couldn’t afford to get sick, not ahead of the race, and you knew that, but you couldn’t be sick. you have a perfect health record.

“yeah, I’ll be down as soon as I can.” you removed your eyes from the empty toilet bowl and over to him. concern washed over his face, out of all the years he’s known you, he’s never seen you so down bad before.

you sent him a fake smile that was supposed to confirm your words, but all it did was worsen his anxiety. he couldn’t leave you, but he had a job to deliver and despite him wanting to take care of you, you wouldn’t allow him to. not with an important race on the line.

“go, I promise I’ll be there.”

—

Isa helped you look presentable ahead of joining the Red Bull garage. she had heard from the grapevine that you weren’t feeling well, and when she arrived to your room she began getting you in the right direction to get up and go to the paddock.

isa was the only one who knew that you and max had been seeing each other beyond your friendship. many drunk moons ago you had admitted to your feelings and to your situationship (if it was even that) to her and she’s since then never told a soul.

“a stomach bug? we both ate the same thing yesterday? are you sure it’s not something else?” she’s whispering at this point, she knows the media’s presence was intense and they could pick up on anything and tell the public with a simple tweet. the internet was already suspicious of you and max, and hearing you both discuss illness could add more to the table.

“what else could it be? it’s been going on for two days now.” your eyes flickered around you hearing cameras shutter, reporters talking, and team members shuffling along. all it took was for one person to stop at the same time Isa did for you.

“have you thought about being pregnant?” her hands grabbed your arm not allowing you to walk away. she tilts her sunglasses down her nose, you can see she’s serious and not joking around. the thought never crossed your mind.

“I haven’t no, but max and I have been so careful and you know I’m on the pill.” your words are defensive feeling the anxiety rise in your body as you began to think about it. you couldn’t leave the paddock without someone in Monaco recognizing you, and you were damn sure you or her couldn’t buy a pregnancy test without someone finding out.

“you could just be sick, but isn’t it better to be safe and check?” she asks, her head slightly nods in the direction behind you. turning around, you see the Dutchman himself, Red Bull hat and collared shirt on ready for media day.

“I guess so.”

—

it’s nearly after midnight when max is sound asleep, and you’re in the bathroom carefully reading the instructions to the pregnancy test Isa had delivered to your hotel room. you’re thankful for whoever ran out to get it, because all day you couldn’t eat without feeling nauseous about being pregnant. you needed to know more than you could imagine.

you could barely think of anything else while you sat on the cold tile awaiting the results. you tried to occupy your mind with social media, games, etc. but your mind kept pulling back to the timer on your phone and the blue stick that sat in front of you.

you’ve had your fair share of pregnancy scares before with max, and he’s never needed to know. you would just take the test, see it’s negative, and then throw it away. but the sudden illness was not helping you ease the burden of possibly being pregnant. it was such a scary thing and so much responsibility, you knew max wasn’t ready, he hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend despite the numerous amount of dates he’s taken you on. being a father was a lot of ask from him.

the bell chimes of your timer quickly pulled you from your thoughts. you flipped the stick over immediately to see what your gut had been telling you the whole time. pregnant.

the pit of your stomach dropped as tears began to stream down your cheeks. how were you supposed to tell him? how were you sure he wanted this? how were you sure you even wanted this? all these things were beginning to add weight to your sobs and eventually max was woken up to the muffled sobs in the bathroom.

“y/n?” he pushed open the bathroom door to reveal you to him. knees shoved against your chest, body shaking as you cried. he slid down beside you pulling you into him. he saw the blue stick sitting on the floor, he didn’t dare to read the results, but he figured your tears were enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

“it’s okay, I’m here.” he says and it’s like you’re five all over again, except you’re not being bullied on the playground, you’re both facing the harsh realities of a years long hookup.

“it’s not okay, max.” you’re trying to push your body away from him, but ultimately fail. you don’t have the strength to do so, your body is tired and you felt safe in his arms. you didn’t want to pull away even if you tried once more.

“why’s it not okay? because you’re pregnant? is that why?” he removes his arms from around you, searching for tissues to wipe your tears. he’s not sure how he feels, but he doesn’t dare let that show to you.

“I know that’s not what you want.”

“not what I want?” he asks pulling away and moving to sit in front of you now. his index finger taps you under the chin to lift your head up from being tucked into your shell, “you are what I want, and being the father to our child is a blessing despite the way it happened.”

“you want to do this with me?” you ask, a little smile peaking onto your lips, he does the same but his is fuller and much more confident than yours, “absolutely.”

“you know that means we have to tell everyone we’ve been secretly seeing each other for awhile.” you can hear your father telling you he has heart failure because of this.

“the reaction on my mothers face will be priceless.”

—

yourusername

yourusername cats out of the bag! surprise! new Red Bull team member coming soon❤️ @ maxverstappen1

liked by pierregasly, christianhorner, formula1, and 1,238,986 others

view all 6,438 comments

redbullracing 😁😁

maxverstappen1 ❤️

Isahernaez yaya!

f1wags new driver loading…

Victoriaverstappen luka and lio can’t wait for play dates!

user1 after everything we’ve been through @ yourusername??? what about our kids?

| yourusername don’t worry I’m not leaving you and our kids 🫡 I’ll leave @ maxverstappen1 for you

Charles_leclerc praying it’s a Ferrari fan 🤞🏻

| yourusername keep wishing!

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen instagram au #formula 1 #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 driver x you #formula 1 x you #f1 instagram au

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desperate-gay · 7 months

Text

The Look of Love

Ali Krieger x fem!reader

“-It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Says you! It’s going to be so embarrassing for me.”

Ali turns her head and sees you and Kelley bickering back and forth. She can’t help but notice the cute pout on your face as you playfully stump your foot and huff at the defender.

“Now what are you two arguing about?” Alex asks, giving the both of you a pointed look.

“Our friend here has been invited to her brother’s wedding, but she doesn’t have a plus one,” Kelley informs while resting her hands on your shoulders, making you roll your eyes and head over to your locker.

“It’s not how it sounds. My family constantly pesters me about how my siblings are either engaged, married, or even having a kid. I don’t even have a girlfriend! I just don’t want to deal with people asking me where my plus one is on my brother’s special day.” You sigh, shaking your head and pulling your sweaty training jersey over your head.

You only have two siblings; one brother and one sister. Your sister has been married for around two years and is now pregnant with her second child, and now your brother is getting married. A little over a year ago, you were dating a girl you thought would be your endgame until you caught her kissing some other girl at a coffee shop. At the time when invitations were sent, you expected to have someone attending with you, but now you don’t.

“So why don’t you bring a fake date?” Christen shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, so when she turns around, she notices everyone staring at her. “What?”

“That’s genius! Y/n/n you’ve got to do it.”

Everyone begins to agree with Kelley and Christen while you stay quiet with a hesitant look on your face. Ali also remains silent, observing your reactions to see what your thoughts are about it.

“Guys I- I don’t even know where I would begin to look for someone willing to do something like this, yet learn everything about them within two days.”

“Then one of us can help you!” Kelley says, expanding her arms, gesturing around the whole locker room. “C’mon, it will be a win-win. No family bothering you about your love life and your brother gets his day.”

Thinking of all the pros and cons, you eventually agree to the plan.

“Well, who’s gonna be my girlfriend for a day?” You ask, sighing at how stupid it sounds.

“I can’t because I have plans with Sam in Australia-“

“-me neither, I have to be out of state but the end of tomorrow.”

A bunch of the girls start spitting out excuses and their plans for the week. You just roll your eyes and continue packing your kit bag up.

“I’ll do it.”

Your head immediately snaps up along with everyone else’s. Silence overcomes the room, but you continue to stare at the person who volunteered.

“Wha- wait, seriously?” You stammer with your eyes slightly wider than usual.

“I don’t see why not. I don’t have any plans and I can help you out.” Ali shrugs nonchalantly while the rest of the room remains quiet, silently watching the interaction between you two.

“Oh my god, thank you thank you thank you!” Ali laughs when you bring her into a bear hug and bounce up and down before pulling away slightly, causing your moves to slow.

“It is an open bar, right?” She looks down at you with a teasing smile. You smack her shoulder and begin to pull away before she pulls you back in, laughing at your reaction.

Christen and Alex give each other a knowing look and go back to changing.

—

“Okay, let’s go over this one last time.” You say, scared that if people start asking questions about your relationship you’re not gonna have the same answers. Your rushing mind is stopped by Ali reaching out and grabbing your hand from across the table.

“Y/n/n, it’s going to be okay. We’ve known each other for years, so all we have to do is say how our first date was and maybe a few other details.” She starts gesturing her breathing by raising her hand up and down and pursing her lips for you to follow her lead.

Once your heart rate goes down to its normal level, you both head into the separate rooms of your apartment to get dressed. The wedding starts in about 2 hours, so you’re both just on time. When you step out of the room and into the living room, you notice Ali staring at you with her eyes widened and mouth slightly slacked.

“What? Does it look bad? Oh god, I cannot deal with the comments of-“ You ramble on while twisting and turning to see if there is something wrong with the dress.

“N-no, no, you just look…stunning.” The tall girl words breathlessly, admiring your loose lilac-colored dress that matches amazingly with your light face of makeup.

You blush and take in her outfit. She stands in a cream-colored suit that compliments your dress perfectly. “You also look great.”

After a minute of just looking at each other, Ali clears her throat and says, “We better get going if we don’t want to be late. M’lady?”

She holds out her arm with an opening between her forearm and bicep for you to slot your own in. You giggle, accepting her gesture while walking to her car. Being the gentlewoman she is, she opens the passenger door for you and offers you a hand so you don’t trip in your heels.

“Here we go.” You mumble before Ali starts driving.

—

You and Ali walk into the venue hand in hand while scanning over the crowded room.

“Darling!” Looking up you see your mother walking over to you with open arms.

“Hey, mom.” You accept her hug before introducing her to your girlfriend. Ali shakes her hand and makes a small conversation as if it’s the easiest thing on the planet. You begin to space out but a laugh and a hand on your lower back interrupt your thoughts.

“You okay, my love?” The girl next to you asks once her laughter dies down. The name gives you butterflies but you choose to ignore it, knowing that all of this is fake.

The reason you got into your past relationship was because of Ali. You have basically followed her to each and every one of her clubs your whole career. You met in 2013 when you both were signed to Washington Spirit, and you have been attached to each other’s hips since that day. You quickly found yourself blushing and swooning at everything the brunette did after a few months of knowing her and you carried those feelings all these years. The only people who know are Alex and Christen.

Instead of confronting your love for the defender, you tried everything to try and vanish them. Eventually, you got into a relationship with your ex when you finally started to feel something for someone else, but that ended up in the dumper.

Now you’re afraid that all your feelings are going to flood and resurface. Sure you never stopped loving her, but it didn’t feel as strong. The fact she is your fake girlfriend for the day is going to make it 10x harder to ignore the constant butterflies in your stomach and the blood rushing to your face with every word she speaks to you.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Don’t worry baby, you might get wrinkles.” You tease while wiping your thumb over her cheeks, causing the talker girl to squat your hand away with a laugh.

“I am not that old.”

You have a 6-year age gap, but you both never think of it because you’re so connected in ways that most people who are the same age are.

“Keep telling yourself that, granny.”

Your mother watches the interaction between you two with a soft smile before excusing herself to go talk to other members of your family. Your mom has always been supportive of you and always stood by your side through the tough times, so seeing you look so happy makes her heart squeeze.

—

After the vows and rings are exchanged, everyone heads over to the room where the reception is going to be held. Ali’s hand never leaving the small of your back, guides you to the room with music blaring out from it.

Most people go out onto the dance floor and sway to the music while you both find a table to sit at. She pulls out the chair for you to take a seat and places a kiss on your cheek, making your face turn all red.

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks, I’ll be right back.”

Once she’s out of sight, your mom pops a squat across from you and gives you an unreadable expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask warily, scared of what might come out of her mouth.

“She’s not your girlfriend.”

You’re taken aback by the sudden admission and start to stumble over your words. “Wha- what do you mean?”

“Oh please, you can’t lie without me figuring it out. I have mom instincts.” She states matter of factly while sipping on her champagne.

You take a look around to see if anyone is near you and lean in so she can hear you clearly without having to shout. “Okay, we’re not dating but no one can know.”

“Why did you even lie in the first place?”

“Because I can’t deal with Aunt Mary or Uncle John constantly asking when I’m going to settle down and why I haven’t yet. At least not on my brother’s and sister-in-law’s night.” You sigh, looking down at your fingers as you fiddle with the tablecloth.

Your mother reaches across the table and grasps your hand before going on to say, “I know that you love her. She’s the girl you were so hung over on before you got with she devil, isn’t she?”

You snort at the nickname your siblings and mother have given your ex. They all thought she was no good from the beginning and knew you could do better, and so did Ali but she never let you know that.

“Yeah, she is.” You nod and look over, noticing the girl you’re speaking about approaching you. Your mom also sees so she quickly says something that leaves you stunned.

“From the way she looks at you, she feels the same, even when you’re not looking she can’t keep her eyes off of you. She looks at you like you’ve hung all the stars in the sky. She loves you, sweetie.” With that, she stands up and greets Ali with a smile before heading over to the newlyweds. You continue looking shocked not noticing your plus-one setting down your glasses.

“You still there?” Ali waves her hand in front of your face, grinning once your eyes meet hers.

“Sorry, did you say something before?” You ask with a soft smile to which the older girl responds with a nod.

“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me with a dance?” She holds out her hand, hoping you’ll take it and you do.

“I would love to.”

Right when your feet hit the dance floor, a slow song turns on making you feel as sheepish as if you were at your first middle school dance. Without hesitation, Ali intertwines one of her hands with yours and rests her other on your waist. You place your other hand right where her neck meets her shoulder before you both begin to sway. The side of your forehead presses against her cheek, keeping you close together.

Subconsciously, you inhale her perfume and sigh at the smell, and what you don’t know is Ali is doing the same thing to your hair, smelling your coconut shampoo. When you open your eyes, you look over her shoulder and notice your mom smiling at the two of you. She nods her head, signaling for you to finally confess your true feelings.

You let out a shaky breath before pulling away slightly so you can see Ali’s face. She smiles at you with her eyes remaining on yours. The crinkles on the side of her eyes make you swoon and lose your thoughts.

“Do you want to know what my mom said to me while you went to get us drinks?”

“What?” She cocks her head to the side slightly, showing you she’s pretty curious as to what was said.

“Well, first, she told me she knows that we’re not dating, and second, she insists that you love me.” You whisper the last part, hoping she doesn’t catch it but she does.

She chuckles and looks up at the ceiling before returning her gaze to you and says, “Is it that obvious?”

Your head snaps up at her statement and you look at her with a puzzled look.

“You…love me?” You ask, pointing at yourself to make sure she is indeed talking about you.

“It’s impossible not to. That doesn’t scare you, does it?” Now it’s her turn to look sheepish and scared while waiting for your response.

“No, it actually makes me extremely happy. I have been in love with you since 2013.” Your confession makes the defender smile widely which you return, both of you in your own little circle. Her eyes switch between each of yours and down to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I will hit you if you don’t.”

Her fingers curl under your chin and pull you in, allowing your lips to finally touch. It feels like the movies where the girl kisses her one true love and her foot pops up in the middle of it. The butterflies in your stomach swarm like never before. Once you both pull back, your smiles never leave your faces. The comfortable silence between you two is interrupted by the newlyweds and your mother clapping and wooing.

You laugh into Ali’s neck while she chuckles and hugs your smaller form. She pecks your forehead and asks, “You wanna know what took me so long to get the drinks?”

“What?”

“The new bride and groom had a stern talk with me. They also knew about us not being a couple. Your family must be spies.”

Looking over her shoulder, you see the three wiggling their eyebrows and giving you a thumbs up, making you roll your eyes.

“Thanks to them, I can do this whenever I want now.”

You smash your lips against hers and hug your arms around her neck. Ali dips you down, causing you to squeal against her lips and her smile into it. She lifts you back up and hugs you.

“Can I take you on a date tomorrow?”

“You better.”

#ali krieger x reader #ali krieger #kelley o'hara #christen press #alex morgan #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #woso #lgbtq

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 7 months

Text

Take Care of You [9]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 9,950

Mood board and borders by @saradika

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: we back, baby. and we also barely edited so if you catch a typo don't hate me. also this was supposed to end in a different spot but then i got carried away in the middle so i had to split it 🥴]

Chapter Specific Warnings: angst, heartbreak, binge drinking to ease emotional turmoil, mild violence, mentions of blood and injury

09: LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU

"i still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do." ⏤ william c. hannon

Three years ago, Nima tried to convince you to go skydiving with her. She begged and she pleaded, but you told her ‘no’ on account of thinking she was a crazy person for wanting to jump out of a perfectly good plane. Which was hilarious now considering you were sitting beside Joel wanting to pull open the door and dive out. The irony was not lost on you.

The only reason you hadn’t gone scrambling for the door was because Joel was forced to take a work call a few minutes into the flight. He hadn’t moved away. Joel stayed right next to you with his arm behind you as he spoke, and every few moments he’d glance at you with a silent apology and shake his head. You’d reply with a tight lipped smile and go back to mindlessly scrolling through instagram.

Unfortunately the mindlessly scrolling was not so mindless. Since leaving Vegas, you had a high pitch ringing in the back of your mind like an endless, echoing siren. Married. A married man. Joel was⏤ Your teeth were clenched together so hard you wondered if Joel could hear them grinding against one another. Yesterday had been filled with so much anxiety, and you had managed to work through it by the end of the night. Mostly. But this was worse. This was so much worse.

Married?

Your throat suddenly felt tight, eyes stinging with unshed tears, and you hastily undid your seatbelt and stood. Joel glanced your way and you pointed to the back of the plane and mouthed the word ‘bathroom’ to him. He nodded with a soft smile, and you spun on your heel and practically sprinted to the tiny plane bathroom. You struggled to get the folding door shut and the stewardess who sat not far away stared at you in confusion. You gave her an awkward wave and finally got it latched.

“Fuck.” You shoved your face in your hands, leaning against the wall, and held back your tears. You were confused and frustrated, and you couldn’t even find relief in a good cry because Joel would spot it in a heartbeat no matter how much you tried to put yourself back together. The thought of confronting him about this right now was your worst nightmare. You hadn’t had the time to process any of the wild thoughts pinging around your head yet.

Your mind was at war with itself. On one hand, maybe you were being stupid and naive. For the last month and a half you’ve spent nearly every day with Joel and on the days you weren’t actively seeing him the two of you would talk either over a call or through text. You knew Yo-yo for 24 hours. Sure, she seemed nice and sincere, but what if Rosalind sent her to screw with you? For all you knew, Yo-yo had cruel intentions and was trying to drive a wedge between you and Joel. By taking her word you’d be playing right into that trap. What she said about the other sugar baby and about Joel being married? Maybe it was all fake and you’ve been stressing for no reason.

On the other hand, Joel didn’t kiss you. He didn’t kiss you because he wanted to ‘do right by you’. Joel asked for time. Was it because he needed to get a divorce? Worse. Was he married with absolutely no plans to get divorced and just buying time for something else?

God, if you kept up this line of thought you were gonna vomit. Quickly, you turned to the sink to splash a little cold water on your face in hopes it would help you get your shit together for the next thirty minutes. Half an hour and you’d be on the ground. But then what? It would be a miracle if you kept it together for thirty minutes let alone any longer.

You took in a long, slow breath and tried to clear your mind. When you felt steady enough, you stepped out of the bathroom. As tempting as it was to hide in there for the rest of the flight, it would probably be a red flag for Joel that something was wrong. You wandered back over to Joel and at your approach, and at the sight of you, he covered the bottom of his phone and whispered, “You alright?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded quickly and sat back down.

“I’m sorry. Jus’ another minute.”

You waved your hands at him as nonchalantly as you could and he went back to his call. You leaned back in the seat, phone in hand, and Joel readjusted his arm on the back of the seat so he could settle his hand on your shoulder. As he always did, his thumb was tracing circles on your shoulder. An action you always loved, but now an intrusive thought slammed into you⏤ does he do this with his wife? The question was so startling, so sickening, that you couldn’t bite back the nausea that rolled through your body. You jumped up so fast you nearly stumbled over your feet, and you scrambled for the bathroom.

Vaguely, you heard your name behind you, but you didn’t stop until you reached the toilet. You fell to your knees and threw up. The taste of acid in your mouth made you wince, but getting it all up did bring some relief. That relief was short lived though as you felt a large, warm hand settle on your back.

“Jesus, sugar.” He said in a soothing voice as he rubbed your back. “What’s goin’ on? Have you felt sick all mornin’?”

You spat into the toilet bowl, trying to get the taste of bile out of your mouth, before reaching out and flushing the toilet. You tried to stand, and Joel hooked his arm around you to help you up. He called out of the bathroom and a second later the stewardess brought in a cup of water and a ginger ale. Joel handed you the water and kept his hand rubbing up and down on your back.

“I’m⏤ I’m fine.” You shook your head and took a sip of water to swish and spit into the sink. “Really.”

“Obviously not.” Joel replied. “C’mon, let’s sit you down.”

“Joel…” You tried to argue, but he wasn’t hearing it. He kept an arm around you as he carefully led you back to the seat. He brought the bottle of ginger ale with you and the moment you finished the water he took the cup out of your hand to replace it with the soda. “I feel better now. It’s fine.”

“You’ve been off this mornin'. I was worried.” Joel lifted a hand to feel your forehead. It made sense that Joel picked up on your distress. He had always been so good at reading you. “You seemed fine when we first woke up. When exactly did you start feelin' sick?”

You took a sip of the ginger ale, “I…I don’t know. After breakfast maybe.” You lied. The sincerity in his eyes, the concern in his voice, it was both bringing you comfort and making you sick again all at once. You felt so stupid. Either you were freaking out over a lie a woman you barely knew told you or you were being tricked into feelings by a married man. Either way, you felt pathetic. “Your, um, your work call, Joel.”

Joel shook his head in response and didn’t even bother addressing the work call he stopped. He set a hand on the back of your neck and his thumb was lightly ghosting over your skin. You closed your eyes and took a slow breath in and out through your nose. “Tell me what I can do, sugar.”

“I⏤” You swallowed the lump in your throat. You forced your eyes open, finding Joel’s furrowed brow and worried gaze already on you, and it made you want to cry. You shook your head, “I, um, I think I just wanna lay down for a while. If that’s okay.”

“Course it’s okay.” He replied.

The seat the two of you were sharing wasn’t long enough for you to lay down without laying your head on Joel’s lap. You planned on moving to the other couch seats to lay down, but Joel’s hand was still on the back of your neck and he lightly began to guide you down. Too tired to even try and move, you settled your head on his thigh and curled your body up onto the rest of the seat.

In any other situation, this would be one of the most comfortable spots on Earth. Your head rested on his thick, firm thigh, and Joel’s hand traced where he could reach. Up and down your jawline and neck⏤ his thumb and forefinger would occasionally massage your earlobe. You tried to calm your racing thoughts. The truth was, you didn’t know the truth yet. It was a fact you kept repeating in your head in hopes it would numb the sharp pain of your worst fears, but those intrusive thoughts continued to pummel you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl.” Joel murmured while his fingers dragged across your skin. “What a shitty way to end this weekend.” You hummed in agreement. This really was a shitty way to close out what started as one of the best weekends of your life.

Avoiding Joel made you realize how involved in your life he was. After landing in LA, Joel tried to drag you to a doctor and only conceded when you told him it was probably a 24 hour bug and you just wanted to sleep. He called you later that night to check in on you, and you managed to talk to him for a few minutes before lying about wanting to go to bed early. Come Monday morning, you went to work despite Joel texting you that you should stay home. Trying to focus at work was physically painful. Enough so that after the nightmare Monday had been, you left midway through the day today claiming to Henry that you didn’t feel well. It wasn’t even a full blown lie. You felt like shit.

Nima threw the folder of papers onto her desk and set her hands on her hips, “I’m gonna hit him with my car.”

“Please don’t.” You mumbled with your chin resting in your palm as you leaned on the other side of her desk. After leaving work, you came directly to Nima’s office. Going home and sitting on your couch, alone with your thoughts, would only make you ten times more miserable.

“No, actually, my car isn’t big enough. I’m gonna commandeer a bus and hit him with that.”

“I haven’t confirmed anything yet. For all I know, I’m being this pathetic over nothing.”

Nima snapped her hand up and pointed at you with a glare, “No. I will not have you shit talking yourself when the only person we should be shit talking is Joel Miller and his wife.”

You groaned and let your head fall to the desk. The words ‘Joel Miller and his wife’ made you viscerally ill. The time you spent not talking to Joel Monday night you spent stalking people on social media. You reached dead ends very quickly though since Joel didn’t have any social media whatsoever. The easiest solution was to just look Joel in the eyes and ask him for the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You wanted to know the truth, but you were scared to actually seek it out.

If you asked Joel for the truth, if you confronted him, then he’d give it to you.

What if the truth was something you didn’t want to hear?

“Alrighty, babe, real talk.” Nima said and you lifted your head, keeping your chin resting on the wood, and saw she had dropped down into her office chair. To meet your eye line, she held her chin on the desk across from you to mirror your position. “I can threaten and plot his demise all I want, but I know I’m not allowed to kill him until this is confirmed or denied.” She twisted her lips. “You deserve the truth.”

You pouted, “How am I supposed to ask him about this, Nima??”

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern, “If you did ask… How sure are you that he’d answer truthfully?”

You pushed up and leaned back in the chair. That was a good question, and with anyone else it would probably be a real concern. However, you weren’t worried about that. You truly, deep down, believed that if you confronted Joel about this he would give you the truth.

“I really think he would.” You answered. “Is that naive of me?”

“You know him better than I do.”

This entire situation made you question that. Did you know him? You knew he grew up in Austin. He had a younger brother, Tommy, and it was just them and his mom for most of his childhood. You knew he attended one year in college when his mom passed away⏤ cancer. Joel dropped out of college to take care of his brother and picked up a job in construction. That’s where he got his start. His first boss saw he had a knack for more than just the manual labor and trusted him with more and more until Joel was running sites for the man. At 27, Joel’s girlfriend of three months got pregnant. They planned to make it work, but she left when Sarah was two weeks old. You knew he adopted Ellie three years later. That he earned his bachelor’s degree in business at home through online classes while raising two young girls and working a full time job. That he started Miller Construction shortly after earning that degree, and it blew up from there.

You knew despite being a tough guy, he didn’t like horror movies.

You knew his favorite whiskey was Lagavulin⏤ neat.

The one thing you didn’t know was if he was married or not.

“I am going to suggest something,” Nima began, “And I want you to listen before you call me crazy.” You shot her confused look and she continued on. “I have this cousin.” You groaned and Nima chastised you to listen. It seemed like she had a cousin available for every situation that arose, and half the people she called cousin weren’t even technically related to her by blood. Anytime you asked her about it all she’d say was ‘Korean moms’ love to talk’, as if that clarified anything for you. “Seriously. He’s dating a private eye. With one text, we can get some answers.”

You shook your head, “Nima, that’s insane.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, hiring a private investigator is insane.”

“Look, it’ll get us reliable answers.” Nima argued. “The truth.”

You rolled the idea around in your head. It was literally the epitome of paranoid absurdity, but you were wondering if that’s the point you were at. Would it be better to find out this way? That way when you finally did confront Joel you wouldn’t be blind sided by the answer. Hell, if the answer turned out to be ‘no, he isn’t married’ then you can chalk up the last few days as time wasted and move on with your life. That being said, it did seem like an invasion of Joel’s privacy.

“That feels…” You paused, “Illegal?”

“It’s not illegal to hire a PI.” Nima countered then tilted her head. “I think. I’m not a lawyer, but people do it on TV all the time, right?”

“Well, that logic is foolproof.”

“I’m not gonna do it if you tell me you don’t want to do it.” Nima said firmly. She crossed her arms and gave a small little shrug. “But you have to do something. Either this or just call him right now and tell him the two of you need to talk.” There was a protective sincerity in her eyes that felt like a security blanket being settled on your shoulders. “I don’t want to see you get more attached to this guy just to be hurt. I don’t want him to lie to you.”

You knew Nima only had your best interests in mind. Technically, Joel had given you no reason not to trust him. Half the time you thought on this topic you convinced yourself you were overreacting and being a pathetic, paranoid mess. Yo-yo, as nice and fun as she had been, was a virtual stranger to you. Her word shouldn’t trump Joel’s. You knew all of that, and you wanted to trust him. However, it felt like some broken part of you was looking for something to be wrong. Joel Miller was too good to be true. Why would someone like him be interested in someone like you? There had to be something else going on. According to your ex, you hadn’t even been worthy of him and Joel Miller was ten times the man he was.

“Okay, do it.” You blurted and hated yourself for doing so.

Nima held your gaze for a second, but you pushed to stand and crossed her office to her private bathroom. You took one of the paper towels, dampening it, and set it on the back of your neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. For a while longer, you just stood there in front of the sink. Not staring at yourself, but staring forward at a singular spot as your thoughts raced. You needed a positive thought. Just one would do, and you were prepared to drag it out of your thick skull kicking and screaming if necessary.

“Everything is going to be okay.” You mumbled to yourself softly.

The whispered words did nothing for your anxiety. However, the memory of him did. You found comfort looking back at the soft moments spent with Joel and let yourself fall down that rabbit hole. The temporary peace was nice, but it didn't last. Finding strength you didn’t know you had today, you splashed your face one more time and then left the bathroom.

Your eyes immediately landed on Nima who stared back with wide eyes. Nima spoke first, “What?”

“What?” You repeated. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh, I thought you said something.” Nima flipped her phone over and settled her hand on top of it. You glanced from her face to her phone and back again. A look of misery flickered across her features. You tilted your head in question. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

“Nima.” You crossed the room quickly. “Did they already text back??”

“No. Yes. Maybe?” Nima shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Nima.”

She twisted her lips and drummed her nails against the plastic case of her phone. You shot her another look and she blew out a sigh. “He sent me a response, but it’s like half an answer. Half a report. We should wait until he can⏤”

“What did he say?”

“Apparently, he’s working on a case for someone else right now and had a database right in front of him so all he had to do was type in⏤”

“Nima, please.” You blurted. It felt like your heart was caught in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you didn't feel coherent enough to string together a thought. Her hesitance was an answer in and of itself. You rubbed your throat, your other arm wrapping around your torso in a poor attempt to hold yourself together, and gasped. “Just say it.”

“He’s married, babe.” Nima mumbled. You knew the words had been coming, but they still overwhelmed you. The air left your lungs as if someone had gut punched you and you fell back into the seat in front of her desk. “He said he’d send me the certificate when he could, but he has to finish this job first. I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry. I⏤”

Nima stopped herself from speaking as she came around her desk and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You sat in her embrace for as long as your shattering mind could endure and then shook your head, “I need a drink. Drinks. Plural.”

“It’s three in the afternoon, babe.” Nima mumbled in concern. You shot her a dry look and she offered you a tight lipped smile. “Drinks it is! Let’s go. We can go back to my place and⏤”

“No.” You pushed to stand. “I wanna go out.”

“Oh… kay. Where?”

“Anywhere.” You turned and began to leave.

Nima was scrambling to gather her belongings into her strawberry shaped purse before rushing out after you. “Just one drink though. I hate being the voice of reason, but we should limit ourselves to one drink.”

One drink turned into two which turned into three which turned into twelve.

By 6 PM, you were borderline wasted. It was by no means the best decision you’ve ever made, but you couldn’t classify it as your worst considering that, for the first time since leaving Vegas, you didn’t feel sad or defeated. No, those blue emotions had turned into a burning shade of red. You had finally found your anger and all it took was copious amounts of alcohol.

“I mean, married?” You scoffed as you stood at the bar with Nima at your side. “That’s⏤ That’s illegal.” Nima nodded in agreement as she blindly tried to find the straw in her drink with her tongue. You reached out and pushed it toward her lips. “And worse than illegal! It’s fucking rude.”

“So rude.” Nima slurped at the last of her drink and all you could hear was the rattling of ice in her glass. She pulled away to slam the cup down and pointed at you⏤ her pink hair had been let down from the braid to messily rest around her shoulders. “You should get a new sugar daddy!” You stuck your tongue out in disgust and shook your head. “No! This is such a good idea.” Nima began to look around the bar. “Let’s find you a super hot, super not married sugar daddy.”

“I don’t want a new sugar daddy. I want another drink.” You leaned on the bar and waited for the bartender to look your way. Nima and you had bounced to a few bars. The two of you, back when you were sober, decided to start drinking in an area that had multiple bars all within walking distance. The one you were in now wasn’t familiar to you⏤ it wasn’t a place you and Nima had been to before. It was a bit too upscale for your liking. Sober you would not have been a fan. Drunk you? Loving it.

Nima was tapping on your shoulder rapidly and when you looked her way she was pointing across the bar to God knows who. “He looks like he wouldn’t marry someone without your permission.”

“That’s,” You shook your head, “not my situation.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head and looked back toward the bartender who was busy with a group of women further down the bar. The sound of vibrating vaguely filled the air and you leaned closer to Nima who immediately wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You’re vibrating.”

“You’re vibrating.”

You found her purse and opened it so you could rifle through it. It dawned on you then that somewhere around bar two and drink five you had shoved your phone in her purse for safe keeping. When you finally managed to pull it out, Joel’s face was flashing on the screen and you yelped in surprise. You tossed the phone onto the bar and held your face between your hands.

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no.” You shook your head and the vibration stopped. Joel’s picture disappeared and was replaced with a notification of a missed call that joined the notification telling you that you had unread messages. Your eyes snapped to Nima who was trying to drink out of her empty cup again. “Joel.”

“Bastard man.” Nima edited.

“Dinner.” You grimaced. “At 7. I’m supposed to get dinner with Joel at 7. It’s 6:35.”

Nima shook her head and crunched the ice she had shoveled into her mouth, “Bastard man can go to dinner with his wife tonight.”

You grimaced, “I hate all the words you just used.”

The bartender began to wander over and Nima turned to order more drinks. You picked up your phone and leaned against the bartop with your elbow. With a frown and furrowed brow, you opened your text messages. Every unread text was from Joel unsurprisingly. The first came in at 4:29 and it was a simple, ‘Hey sugar, I’m excited to see you tonight’. The next was almost exactly an hour later and it said, ‘Hope your day’s been alright. We still on for tonight?’. Finally, the most recent at 6:15, was just your name with a question mark.

You set the phone back down before the temptation to reply could overcome you. It only sat on the bartop for a second before it began to vibrate violently as another call came in. Joel’s face filled the screen and you felt a wave of sadness drag you under. The fact that you were mourning the lack of his presence to this degree was probably a sign you were doing this ‘sugar baby’ thing very wrong.

“Maybe I should answer it.” You voiced the thought aloud.

Nima caught it and gasped before slapping her hand on top of the still buzzing phone, “No, ma’am! You will not be doing that.” The bartender set two new drinks between the two of you. Nima pushed one in front of you and moved the straw to point directly at you. “Drink.”

You took a sip then spoke, “I don’t even know the whole story⏤” Nima pushed your face back to the straw so you took another long sip. “Maybe it’s a misunderstanding…” This time your lips found their way to the straw on their own accord and you took a sip that could be argued as dangerously long. “I need to talk to him. Confront him. Demand answers.”

“Yes. To all of that. Eventually.” Nima replied with a nod. She reached forward and bopped you on the nose with her finger. “But not tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know one thing in life,” Nima held up the one finger she used to bop your nose, “You do not have serious conversations while drunk.”

You shook your head with a pout, “I thought you said you don’t like being the voice of reason.”

“If it means helping you, I’ll always lean toward reason, babe.”

The two of you went back to drinking. Your vibrating phone stopped and a few seconds passed before a notification for a voicemail popped up. You turned to Nima, “Can I listen to it? That’s not talking. That’s listening.”

Nima chewed on her straw slowly before bobbing her head in an affirmative nod, “I shall allow it.”

You picked up the phone to listen to the message he left you.

‘Hey, sugar.’ Joel’s voice rumbled over the line and you felt your chest physically ache at the sound. You closed your eyes in annoyance with yourself. If you hadn’t fallen so hard, so fast for this man you wouldn’t be in this scenario to begin with. ‘Gotta say I’m a little worried. Haven’t heard from ya all day. Gimme a call when ya get this.’

You groaned and set your head down on the bar. Guilt gnawed at you. It felt childish of you to be ghosting him like this, and that wasn’t your typical go to move. You had enough respect for the people in your life to address them when needed rather than hide behind voicemail. With the guilt was a swirling vortex of anger. You were angry at Joel for not being up front with you. You were angry at Yo-Yo for being the one to plant the initial doubt that started all this. You were angry at yourself most of all. Angry that you felt guilt at all, angry that you had foolishly placed so much trust in a man you barely knew, angry that despite everything there was still a part of you that craved his presence. You missed his touch and his voice. You missed those burning brown eyes and the way his very glance could melt you into a puddle.

“You okay, babe?” Nima’s voice asked softly. You shook your head without lifting it. “I’m sorry. I can break his knee caps if you want?”

“What?” You lifted your gaze.

“What?” She replied innocently.

The phone began to vibrate again startling you. He had just called so you didn’t expect him to call again, but then again you were supposed to be in your apartment waiting for him to pick you up for dinner. You pictured him standing at your door dressed up and holding a bouquet of flowers. Nausea rolled over you in waves, and you grabbed your mixed drink thinking it could cure your troubles.

A few minutes passed before another voicemail was left. You snatched your phone up and shoved it back into Nima’s purse so it would be out of your line of sight⏤ not even bothering to listen to the second voicemail. Tomorrow, you decided. Tomorrow you would confront Joel and have this difficult conversation. You both finished the drinks in front of you as the lively bar continued to thrive around you.

“Why is he married?” You asked suddenly. Nima must have known it wasn’t a question you expected an actual answer to as she stayed silent. You rested your face in your hands and sighed. With your eyes closed against your hands like this you began to feel dizzy. A sure sign that you should stop drinking. Nima rubbed your back soothingly and you dropped your hands to shoot her an appreciative glance. “You’re the best best friend a girl could ask for.”

“I know, babe. And you know what else I know?” Nima squished your cheeks together with a wide grin, “You deserve the universe in a gold hand basket, and any man who can’t see that or who would play games with your big, loving heart doesn’t deserve you.”

You laughed and Nima chuckled herself before letting go of your face to pick up her empty glass. Her tongue struggled to find the straw but once it did she tried to take a big gulp only to get drops and air. Nima pulled away from her straw and furrowed her brow, “Who finished my drink?”

With another laugh, you raised your hand to order two more drinks. At this point you’ve already had so much to drink, what would one more hurt? You knew the hangover tomorrow was going to be a bad one, but a part of you was looking forward to it. There would be no mourning Joel tomorrow if your head hurt too much to even think his name.

Nima successfully managed to distract you again as she drunkenly delved into a story you weren’t quite following, but you enjoyed the way she told it. A low whistle interrupted the moment of peace the two of you had found. You glanced past Nima to see two men in business suits wandering over. Nothing about them stood out to you. One was brunet and the other blond, but they both looked like they never grew out of the frat lifestyle on a college campus.

“We saw you two pretty ladies from over there and wanted to come and offer you our company.” The blond greeted smugly.

Nima turned in her seat to face him and waved her hand at him while taking a long sip of her drink until the ice rattled in the glass. Then she pulled the straw out of her mouth to finally speak with a shake of her head, “Sorry, we don’t speak english.”

“You just said that in English.” The blond chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry.” Nima waved her hand once more. “I don’t understand your accent.”

You snickered under your breath while chewing on your straw. The brunet stepped forward to stand side by side with the other and shook his head, “No need to be a bitch. We just wanted to talk.”

“Oh, you haven’t even begun to see bitchy yet.” Nima pointed her glass in their direction⏤ a bit of ice sloshing out with the exaggerated movement. “I can show you bitchy.” She reached back to swat at your arm. “Tell them, babe.”

“She can.” You nodded in agreement.

The blond set a hand on his friend’s shoulder and tugged him back, “Let’s just go, man.”

The brunet reluctantly let himself get dragged away, but he continued to stare at you and Nima the entire time. Nima spun in her seat and scoffed, “Where was I before I was interrupted by douchebag one and douchebag two?”

“I’m not gonna lie,” You shrugged, “I have no idea.”

“I’ll pick a place then.” Nima said and jumped into the middle of her story. “So, there I was covered head to toe in honey.”

Same as before, you really couldn’t keep track of her tale but it amused you all the same. The two of you chatted for another minute or two before a new face came across the two of you again. Nima had bounced in her seat, excited, and it knocked her strawberry shaped purse to the floor. Your phone clattered out. Before you could climb off the bar stool to grab it, a man passing knelt down and scooped it up. In one tanned hand he grabbed the purse and in the other your phone. The phone’s screen lit up and you swallowed at the sight of the multiple missed messages all from the same person.

“Oh.” The man cleared his throat and straightened his stance. He was handsome with a kind face. Dark hair, a bit on the longer side, was messily pushed back and it matched the scruff on his upper lip and chin. The man wore a pink button up shirt, all the buttons undone, over a white t-shirt. “I suppose this is yours, miss?”

You begun to reach out, “Thanks⏤”

“Hold it!” Nima pointed at the man making his dark, brown eyes widen. “State your intentions, sir!”

“To…return your purse?” He lifted up the strawberry bag.

Nima narrowed her eyes at him and snatched it away, “Likely story.”

“Thank you.” You reached out and he handed the phone over to you. A glance down revealed four missed calls, two unheard voicemails, and five texts. You winced at the sight and set your phone face down on the bar. You were surprised to see the man still standing by your stools. “You…” You narrowed your eyes at him. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Afraid not, ma’am.”

It was sitting on the tip of your tongue, but your foggy brain just couldn’t quite grasp it. Nima snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “I got it. He’s that guy.” You lifted an eyebrow at her words and she nodded frantically. “Yeah, he’s that actor! You play in that one show with, like, the zombies or whatever, right?”

“Not at all.” He laughed with a shake of his head. “I ain’t no actor.”

“Well then, I’m out of guesses.” Nima grumbled. She tilted her head, looking him up and down once more, “You seem nice enough. Got a pretty face. You rich? You wanna be a sugar daddy? She’s in the market.”

You rolled your eyes, “Nima.”

“You’re in the market for a sugar daddy?” The man asked in shock. You could hardly blame the man for his confusion and disbelief. This was hardly a normal bar conversation. “Really?”

“No. She’s just drunk.”

“Irrelevant.” Nima argued.

You chuckled then introduced yourself and Nima. The man paused for a beat before nodding and offering you his hand. “Nice to meet you both. My name is Tommy.” It took a second to click, but once the name finally wormed its way through your mind your eyes widened. Tommy chuckled and answered your unspoken question, “Yeah. I am.”

Nima glanced between you two with a frown, “Hold on, I’m not following. You are what? You’ll be her new sugar daddy?”

“No way in hell.” Tommy grinned. “If I even thought 'bout it, my brother’d skin me alive.”

The look on Nima’s face stayed confused until you swallowed the lump in your throat and finally spoke, “It’s… Nima, this is Joel’s brother.”

Her face remained frozen before morphing into one of shock. She gasped, almost comically, and pointed at him. “Oh, fuck.” Her eyebrows furrowed into a glare. “You son of a bitch, your brother is a son of a bitch!”

Tommy didn’t pay her outburst any mind, but his eyes darted back to you. “I asked my brother to come out drinkin' with me tonight, but he said ‘no’ cause he had a date with you.” Tommy stuck his hands into his pockets. “Funny I’m findin' you here without him.”

“That’s because your brother is too busy with his wife to be with my girl!”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise and he glanced back to you, “He already told you about her?”

It was quite possibly the worst string of words you could have heard all day. Only in competition with Nima’s ‘He’s married, babe’. You felt nauseous and dizzy⏤ the breath stolen from you again. Nima was arguing with Tommy, you could hear her voice, but you couldn’t concretely understand a single word that was said. When you finally managed to get a handle on reality, you looked back to see things had fallen apart and more time than you realized had passed in your mental breakdown.

The blond and brunet from earlier, in the suits, had come back and were somehow arguing with Tommy and Nima now. You suddenly began to regret the last two drinks you had. Maybe if you had gone with a couple glasses of water instead you’d be able to puzzle out exactly what was going on right now.

“Get the hell outta here. They ain’t interested.” Tommy snapped.

“Just curious as to why we weren’t good enough for these bitches and you were.” The brunet slurred his words. Tommy stood a step in front of Nima who had slid off her bar stool to stand in front of you with her hands on her hips. “What’s so special about you, bub?”

“Ugh. How about the two of you run off to the bathroom and jack each other off, huh? Then leave us the fuck alone.” Nima sneered.

“Shut your damn mouth!”

The blond tried to push past Tommy toward Nima, but Tommy shoved him back immediately. He grabbed the guy by the collar. “You gonna charge at a woman like that? Fuckin' coward.” Tommy’s voice came out in a gravelly growl that reminded you so much of Joel that it was staggering. “You got a problem, you take it up with me.”

The next moment happened fast. The blond tried to swing out at Tommy so Tommy blocked it with his elbow before tackling the man to the ground. The brunet grabbed Nima and wrapped his arms around her. She howled in anger and squirmed in his arms trying to find purchase to hit him. The brunet spun so his back was to you and you slid off the stool. Without pause, without thought, you picked up your empty glass and smashed it to the back of the man’s head. He released Nima, crumpling to the ground with a groan, and any shred of a fight stopped⏤as did the entire bar.

Tommy was kneeling on the ground pinning the blond while Nima stood off to the side.

“Oh my God.” Nima squealed, amused.

“Oh my God.” Tommy blurted, impressed.

“Oh my God.” You gasped, shocked at your own action.

You were panting, damn near hyperventilating, as the brunet began to rise on shaky limbs. Other patrons nearby converged on the scene to help out and before you knew it you were being ushered off to the side where a few couches and seats sat in a lounge area.

“You’re such a badass.” Nima gushed from beside you. "How’s your hand??”

“Hurts.” You mumbled and stared down at the white cloth wrapped around your hand. Bright red was beginning to seep through. The consequences of smashing glass against the back of someone’s skull. Police had shown up and you knew Tommy was across the room talking to them. But still, your eyes stayed glued on your hand. The cuts weren’t terrible but they stung something awful.

“Babe?” You finally looked up and met Nima’s concerned eyes. She nodded, “You alright?”

You shot her a small smile, “Yeah. Are you okay? I can’t believe he grabbed you.”

“I’m fine.” Nima peeked at your hand then stood. “I’m gonna see if this bar has a real first aid kit we can use. Be right back.”

She jumped up and jogged over to the bar. You sunk in your seat with a sigh and leaned your head against the back of the couch. There had been something very sobering about smashing the glass against that guy’s head. The adrenaline and pain cleared any lingering fog from your previous drinks right out of your head. It left room for you to think about Joel. Meeting his brother certainly didn’t help. Tommy clapped one of the officer’s on the shoulder with a smile and they went separate ways. You lifted your head when you heard his footsteps draw near.

“Well, I spoke to the police.” Tommy stuck his hands into his pockets. “You’re not gonna get in trouble for the, you know, the glass. Won’t have to go downtown with ‘em.” You breathed a sigh of relief. Tommy held your gaze for a few more seconds before scrunching his nose and bobbing his head toward you. “And Joel is, uh, on his way.”

You covered your face with your good hand and groaned, “Can I please just be arrested instead?”

“Sorry, no can do.” Tommy sat down beside you. “You know, I didn’t say it earlier, but it’s nice to finally meet you. Joel never shuts up about you.”

“Please. Don’t.” You blurted. “I can’t… I can’t talk about him right now.”

Tommy nodded, “Right. I, uh, when I called him we didn’t talk much.” He laced his fingers together and rested his arms on his knees. “I mentioned you were hurt and things kind of spiraled from there. That’s probably for the best though. I don’t wanna get in between a lover’s quarrel⏤”

“I’m not his lover.” You snapped, and you hated the way your voice cracked. You shook your head, “Not if he’s married. Not…” The adrenaline was beginning to wear off and you were exhausted to your very bones. “This is so fucked up. I never should've agreed to…

Tommy didn’t immediately reply. He sighed, “I don’t know you, and I don’t got the exact details of what’s going on right now, but… I’m glad you agreed.” He turned and met your gaze with a tight smile. “Joel’s been… He’s been better. Joel was in a rut for a long time. So long that I kind of forgot he was in one. For a while, that was just Joel.” Tommy’s smile grew as he chuckled. “But ever since the two of you met, it’s like this weight has been lifted from his shoulders. We’ve all noticed it, and we’re all thankful.”

“He’s married.” You whispered. “And he didn’t tell me.”

Tommy rubbed the back of his neck, “I know, but it’s⏤ it’s not that simple.” He nervously chewed on his lower lip. “Can you just give him a chance to explain?” You flexed your hand and sucked in a sharp breath as pain lanced up your arm. “Consider it a favor for me.”

“A favor for you?” You snorted.

“Yeah. I kept you out of prison, remember?” Tommy joked.

You cracked a smile and Tommy’s smile widened in victory. Nima skipped back over and dropped into the seat on your other side. She pulled your hand into her lap and carefully unpeeled the cloth away. As Nima rewrapped your hand while Tommy criticized her technique and the two bickered over you. You couldn’t help but flex your hand when she finished.

“Come on, pinkie.” Tommy stood. “I’ll take you home.”

“Uh, I am not leaving my girl here alone.”

“Joel will be here soon.”

“Then I’m definitely not leaving her alone!”

You reached out to squeeze her wrist and gave her a reassuring nod, “I’ll be okay. Gotta talk to him eventually, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t have to be right now.” Nima argued. You pulled her into a hug to reassure her once again. Maybe this was a bad idea, but you had just smashed a glass against a guy’s head so the degree of your bad ideas couldn't possibly get worse. Nima sighed and stood up too. “Okay. You’re sure you’re fine?”

Tommy clapped his hands. “Joel’s a few minutes away. But we can stay until he gets here if you want.”

“No.” You shook your head. The thought of being alone for a minute was kind of nice. “You guys go.” Your eyes locked onto Nima. “If you’re okay with him driving you.” You glanced at Tommy. “No offense.”

He held his hands up in surrender and shrugged nonchalantly. Nima nodded, “We survived a bar brawl together. We’re bonded.” She grinned and pulled her strawberry purse around her shoulders. “Plus, worse comes to worse, I can stab him.”

“You can what now?” Tommy questioned.

“You’ve already offered me a ride. It’s too late to back out now.”

“Fine, pinkie.” Tommy waved her to follow.

You watched them go and sunk in your seat. The sounds of the bar was decent background noise, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the noise in your head. You picked at the edges of the gauze wrapped around your hand. Your eyes felt heavy and if you weren’t careful you were going to pass out on this bar couch surrounded by strangers. It was the sound of a crash that startled you back into the moment, and when you looked up from your hand you realized the door had been thrown open hard enough to hit the wall. Joel stood in the doorway panicked and wild eyed. He wore a suit without the tie and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top.

You stayed silent, sinking further into your seat, and watched as Joel’s wide eyes scanned the room. His gaze finally landed on you, doing a double take, and when he realized where you were you saw his shoulders slump in relief. Joel jogged across the room until he was able to kneel down in front of you. Joel’s warm hands found your face, cupping it softly, as he sighed, “Sugar, what the hell is goin' on? Are you okay?” Joel’s eyes studied your face then glanced down at your hand. “Jesus, your hand. Tommy called me. Sugar, I⏤”

“I’m okay.” You whispered, throat growing tight, “I just wanna go home, Joel.”

Joel tensed and he nodded, “Yeah. Alright. Let’s get you home.”

The ride in the truck beside Joel may have been the most awkward and tense ride of your entire life. It was silent. The only sound coming from the road outside. Joel’s hands were white knuckled around the steering wheel. You assumed his tension had something to do with you ghosting him this evening. His truck pulled up outside your apartment complex and your alcohol soaked brain realized not only did you not have your keys but you also no longer had your phone. Both were sitting in Nima’s purse right now.

You opened the door fully prepared to sleep outside your apartment on the welcome mat like a lost dog, but Joel grasped you by the arm cautiously to hold you in place. “You got your key?” You twisted your lips knowing he wasn’t going to fall for a lie. “Where is your key?”

“With Nima.” You mumbled. “She has my phone too.”

Joel sighed and let go of you to instead grab the truck door and shut it. He buckled you back into the seat and began to drive once more. You wanted to ask where he was taking you, but none of the words would come out. You drowned in your indecision while picking at the bandage on your hand. Joel suddenly reached over and lightly pushed your hand away from the injury.

“Stop pickin' at it, sugar.”

“Where are we going?” You blurted.

Joel shifted in his seat, “My place.”

“I don’t wanna go to your place.” You mumbled.

“Don’t care.” Joel replied gruffly and you lifted your head to glare at his side profile.

The tone of his voice stirred something inside you, and you felt the dormant anger start to reawaken. It had gotten buried under everything that happened, but now it was back full fledged. You sat up, “Take me back. I want to go home.”

“You don’t have your key.”

“I don’t care.” You snapped. “Take me home, Joel!”

“You’re comin' to my place where I know you can safely sleep it off, 'nd then tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get ya back into your apartment. Understood?”

You scoffed, “Don’t talk down to me. I’m not a child, Joel.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Joel scoffed. His tone was angry and frustrated. “Cause you’re sure as hell actin' like one.” He shot a glare in your direction before focusing back on the road. “Are you outta your goddamn mind?! Do you know how worried I was?” You crossed your arms and stared out the passenger window. “I don’ hear from you all day long. You disappear on me with no explanation 'nd then I get a call from my baby brother that you’ve been in a bar fight? And that you’re hurt?!” You stayed silent and Joel scoffed. “And now I get the silent treatment? Very mature.”

“You don’t want to argue with me on what’s mature, Joel.” You said, head whipping back to glare at him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean??”

“You’re a hypocrite!”

“Excuse me?”

You scoffed, “It’s not very mature for a married man to pay a sugar baby for attention.” Joel hit the brakes and the seat belt caught you as the truck screeched to a stop. You glanced out the window to see his truck had reached a neighborhood and the streets were mostly void of other vehicles. When you turned back to Joel, you found him staring at you in a mix of shock and horror. You shook your head, “What was I, Joel? Some kind of midlife crisis?”

Pain could be seen through the horror, and he reached out to grab your wrist again. “No. No, that’s not…” Joel’s voice was hoarse and broken. He whispered your name. “Please. That’s not what this is.”

You tugged your arm away from his grip. “I don’t wanna talk about this right now, Joel. Either start driving again or I’m gonna get out.”

Joel kept his hands to himself as he slowly went back to driving. As if the awkward silence hadn’t been painful before it was downright agonizing now. You were pressing your thumb into the wounds of your palm just to try and keep from crying. Joel pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, and you couldn’t even get your brain to collect a single feature of the house in front of you. Joel jumped out of the truck and you stayed frozen. The passenger door opened but Joel didn’t move to pull you out. He held the top of the door frame and a foot rested on the running board so he could lean in just marginally.

“Sugar…”

“Don’t, Joel.” You said firmly. “Don’t.”

“Please just let me⏤”

“Are you married?”

Joel’s face crumpled in agony and he hung his head, “It’s… It’s not that simple. Just let me⏤”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You shrugged and tried to ignore the tears welling up in your eyes.

Joel looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he still refused to answer. You whispered his name. Finally, he lifted his gaze back to you and opened his mouth. His jaw hung open silently for a second before he could speak. “...Yes.”

You felt the tears lingering at the waterline drip down your cheeks and hastily began to wipe them away with your hands. Joel gasped and began to reach out but when you flinched he held back. He shook his head, “You’re bleedin'.”

The bandage around your hand was soaked with blood, probably from digging your thumb into the wounds, and when you felt your cheek with your fingertips they came back tinted red. You must have smeared it across your face.

“Sugar, let me… let me take you inside.” Joel murmured. “Please. I know you’re… upset, 'nd you have every reason to hate me right now, but… just let me get you inside.” His hand reached out for you once more, but he stopped himself. “You can leave in the mornin', but for tonight just⏤ just let me take care of you. Please.”

You gave a small nod. It felt weak of you, but you reassured yourself that you had little to no other option. Your hand hurt, your head ached, you were exhausted to your very being, and deep down you were torn between wanting to yell and scream or curl into a ball and cry. Joel took a few steps back to allow you to climb down yourself, but when you wavered his arms shot out to try and steady you. Joel herded you toward the front door without actually touching you.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you studied his front porch. The entire front of his house didn’t look like the typical rich LA style you were accustomed to seeing. In fact, his porch and front door reminded you of a quaint farmhouse. Joel unlocked his front door and held it open for you to walk in. Right inside the house, the foyer had an open style with a set of stairs pressed against the wall just up ahead. It opened straight into a large living room that evolved into a dining room with a matching open kitchen to the side. The entire back wall by the kitchen and dining area was made of glass but the back porch lights were off so you couldn’t see the view.

Joel tossed his keys into a bowl sitting on an accent table against the wall right by the door. You glanced over to a little bench built into the wall on the other side beneath a set of bay windows. The rest of his furniture from what you could see was modern and plain. You were drunk off alcohol and misery, but your brain was still able to take the time to note that Joel’s furniture didn’t match what you imagined him to have.

“C’mon.” Joel motioned you up the stairs. He followed after you and when you reached the top of the stairs he pointed to the left. You stepped into the master bedroom and Joel slid in past you moving straight toward the master bath. While he rooted around for something, you glanced around his room. There was a king sized bed sitting in the middle of the room covered in dark green sheets. A window sat on either side of the bed. The wall to the right was where the bathroom door and the closet door sat, but on the left was a single loveseat pushed against the wall. All the furniture was dark brown including the large dresser against the wall by the door and the smaller bedside drawers on either side of the bed under the windows. You drifted toward one of the bedside drawers where a photo was propped up. It was of Joel and two young girls. Joel had shown you enough pictures of Sarah and Ellie for you to recognize them, but in this photo all three of them were significantly younger.

The sound of a throat clearing made you look up to see Joel standing there with a first aid kit in hand. “Sit down for me?” You sat on the side of the bed and Joel sat beside you. He opened the kit then carefully unwrapped your hand. When he saw the three lines haphazardly cut into your palm he let out a soft hiss. “You hurtin' much?”

“It stings some.” You mumbled. He hummed in response and used an alcohol swab to clean up the cuts. Joel did so with soft touches and his eyes flickered to your features every second or so to check in on your status. You locked your jaw to bite back any sounds of pain that tried to slip out.

“They look bad, but I don’ think they’ll need stitches.” Joel thought out loud.

“Good.” You said. Joel grabbed some fresh gauze and began to wrap it around your hand. You studied his features as he focused so intently on the task at hand. His warm gaze was burned into your skin as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You had the urge to trace your fingers through the scruff along his jawline. When he finished, he lifted his gaze and his eyes locked with yours. The two of you stared at one another in tense silence. Pain and longing filled his brown eyes, and you wondered if it could somehow just be a reflection of your own. It made no sense for you to both be so miserable right now. “Where is she?”

Joel tensed, “What?”

“Where is your wife?” You asked more firmly.

“Are you sure you wanna get into this tonight?”

“I just want answers, Joel.” You sighed. “I need something. My mind has been a mess since we left Vegas.” Joel’s face crumpled as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “Yo-yo told me I wasn’t your first sugar baby and then she said you were married to your first sugar baby.” The words were falling out like pouring water now. “And then Nima has a cousin who has a cousin who has a friend or something that was able to find your marriage certificate⏤”

Joel murmured your name in reverence and opened his eyes. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you from the start. That way there’d be no miscommunication or confusion. I meant to. But… I kept puttin' it off 'nd it got to the point where too much time had passed…” Joel hesitantly reached out for you and when you didn’t shy away he settled his hand on your arm. “I did have a sugar baby before you. It’s a… long story, but I am not married to her.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You didn’t marry her?”

“No. Absolutely not. She was… Like I said, it’s a long story.” Joel squeezed your arm. “One that I promise to tell you. In the mornin', when you’re not half drunk 'nd half hungover all at once.”

“Then who the hell are you married to, Joel?”

“I… I am technically still married to Celina.” Joel finally spat the words out. You shook your head in confusion. The name was foreign to you, but Joel heaved another sigh and added, “Sarah’s mom.”

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611 @asreadbyaj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @str84pedro

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#joel miller #sugar daddy!joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #female reader #reader insert #take care of you

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mentalpolaroids · 6 months

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Wolf's Home

(Part I)

Geralt of Rivia x female!Reader

Summary: Geralt takes Ciri to Kaer Morhen and reunites not only with his family of witchers, but also with the person that makes him feel at home the most

a/n: this is sort of rewrite of S02E02. Sorry for the use of (y/n) but couldn't really think of a name for the reader. Also, this is my first try at writing for The Witcher so be nice to me please!!

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She woke up that morning expecting to face another routine-repeating day, possibly with an occasional healing of one of the witchers coming back to Kaer Morhen from a hunt, or coming up with a new excuse as to why she didn’t want to eat whatever crap Lambert cooked for them. His turn on food duty was always a dreadful one.

Her days were never too adventurous, not since Vasemir had insisted on a more permanent stay at the keep two years ago, when she was dragged through the Blue Mountains by a silver haired witcher, both injured, after fighting and killing a monster together. An encounter she still couldn’t really understand to this day, how they happened to be in the same place, at the same time, looking for the same creature, but she knew better than to question Destiny.

Even with her own wounds to take care of, she still healed Geralt of Rivia first, who fell under her natural charm like a trap. He wondered if it was a spell, the way he so easily was put at ease in her presence. She was a mage after all. But as the days passed, he concluded that there was no spell besides the one used to close the gash on his abdomen. That woman was simply a caretaker by heart, one that somehow remained open and pure even knowing of the existence of nasty beings out there in the Continent. Everyone else in the Fortress seemed to be as mesmerized, and so, she was welcomed with open arms to stay, and heal, and fight with the witchers.

The ropes were starting to burn the palm of her hands from all the knots she had conquered in the last hour, but she definitely didn’t mind because it was at least keeping her hands warm as she stood outside, light snow falling over the already white ground.

One of the few advantages of the icy weather was that they could hear when someone was approaching, the crunch of the footsteps over the snow being hard to disguise. She heard those in the distance, but it was of a horse. (y/n) dropped the rope and grabbed her sword, preparing herself for the sight of the intruder before making her own known. But, the sight wasn’t at all what she expected. She didn’t know what to expect at all, but it sure wasn’t a familiar brown horse carrying Geralt of Rivia accompanied by a blonde girl, who (y/n) quickly convinced herself must’ve been a princess, if not for her looks, for her posture. She looked like she didn’t belong there, nor next to someone with the nickname The Butcher of Blaviken.

The girl got down from Roach and looked around curiously. Her dress blended with the snow, from afar, (y/n) wondered if she was even real. Her gaze didn’t last long on the girl when Geralt got down from his horse too, the mere sight of his face barely visible under his dark cloak sent a shiver of excitement to her stomach. He had always had that effect on her, but it seemed the longer she went without seeing him, the stronger the sensation got after meeting again.

The witcher and the princess shared words (y/n) couldn’t really hear from where she was still in the hiding, and as they started to walk towards the main entrance of the Fortress, the mage put down her sword and walked towards them.

“You sure we’re safe here?” the princess asked Geralt, who walked in front of her. (y/n) was not close enough to hear the question, not yet to be noticed.

“Safer than out there.”

Her voice seemed to echo in the silence of their footsteps coming to a stop, both turning their heads to their right, finally acknowledging her. Geralt’s lips curved into a brief smile, his yellow eyes softening when they locked with hers. (y/n) smiled back, the shiver in her stomach was now climbing to her chest and for a moment she forgot he could probably feel her heart beating faster. Good thing she didn’t mind him knowing how she felt around him.

Three steps away from coming face to face with the witcher, she slowed her pace, planning to walk past them.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dearest friend in all the Continent.”

“It’s great to see you.”

“Oh I’m afraid I was speaking to my best girl here.” (y/n) approached Roach, caressing the horse over her nose and planting a light kiss on her short fur, “But it’s great to see you too, Wolf.” she walked towards him again, for a second forgetting it wasn’t just the two of them there. The way Geralt followed every step of hers, his gaze warm even in the middle of a Winter day. (y/n) opened her arms to him, “Welcome home.”

The man embraced her tightly against him and it felt like getting drowned in memories of his days with her. He had forgotten how much he cherished her affection, and holding her reminded him how nice it was to let his guard down for a brief moment. It all felt like he had never left.

“I missed you.” he murmured, unrecognizably self-conscious. He surely didn’t enjoy showing this vulnerable side of him, especially in front of someone else.

“I’m sure you did.” (y/n) let go of him, casting him a warm, welcoming smile, before looking to the girl standing behind him, now more curious about the pair’s dynamic than the Fortress, “And who’s this poor thing having to deal with your company?”

“This is Ciri.”

“Ciri.” (y/n) tried the name on her lips. She walked towards her with the same welcoming smile, but a different fondness in her eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Ciri.” she said as she extended her hand to the girl, “I’m (y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” she spoke softly, clearly wary of meeting a new face, but the shadow of a smiling curve on her lips showed potential trust as she accepted the handshake. After all, the woman was obviously someone dear to Geralt, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Is that so?” (y/n) smirked, hoping the cold outside cooled the warmth spreading across her face. She turned to Geralt, who watched the two girls interact, but the words were directed to Ciri, “I’m sure I have a lot to hear about you, too.” It was a warning to the witcher: an endless night of chatting was to come, questions needed to be answered, stories to be told and his whereabouts to be known.

As if reading Ciri’s mind, (y/n) squeezed her shoulder and tilted her head towards the entrance, “Don’t worry, you are safe here.”

“Keep up.” Geralt told the girl, and both followed (y/n).

They both pushed the heavy wooden doors and walked into the main room of the Fortress that was occupied with chatty men and the smell of burning wood and ale. (y/n)’s words echoing through the wide space caught their attention.

“Look what the snow dragged in, boys.”

All eyes turned to the mage and the murmur came to a stop when everybody noticed the figure standing behind her. Her attention turned to Geralt as well, in time to see him remove the hood of his cloak and finally getting a decent view of the face she missed so much. She also checked on Ciri, who looked uneasier than before, standing in the middle of a room full of men. (y/n) winked at her, hoping to reassure her everything was alright. Geralt noticed, and he too turned to the girl and nodded at her before moving to stand beside (y/n) as Lambert stood from his seat and walked towards them.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“We thought you got lost.” Coën followed Lambert, “Or killed.”

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Geralt smiled tenderly.

“Not yet. Sorry.”

The mage elbowed his side. She had always hated when he implied the possibility of his death at any moment, considering what he was and he did, in reality it wasn’t a massive impossibility. Still, even a simple joke triggered a non-existent grief that resided in her chest everytime she had to see the witcher leave and go long periods of time without hearing a single word from or about him. In his presence, (y/n) pretended he would stay forever, and if he didn’t stay, he would come back. Everytime.

Geralt caressed her back and brought her in for the embrace Lambert had already initiated. He then went on greeting and hugging the other witchers and, more than ever, Kaer Morhen felt like a real home. The family was back together.

“I guess I’m back to being second favorite now that you’re back.” Lambert complained to Geralt, referring to (y/n).

“Who said you were even a favorite in the first place?”

Geralt laughed.

“I hope you’ve all been treating her right.”

“We do, but she’s a mean one. Lucky for her, we don’t dislike her cooking.”

The banter was interrupted by Vasemir, who entered the room already smiling at the sight of the silver haired witcher.

“Wolf. You’re home.” the elder joined the commotion, “Finally.”

Ciri, still feeling out of place, placed herself visibly between Geralt and (y/n).

“Yeah. I had to make a few stops.” the witcher replied, referring to the princess next to him.

“He’s home!”

Once again, the commotion grew around Geralt as they kept celebrating his return. Ciri smiled shyly watching the content interactions.

“Come on,” (y/n) extended her hand for the princess to take, “I’m going to introduce you to everybody.”

When everybody settled enough for the mage to be able to order everyone to be nice to Ciri, the men were somewhat curious about the unexpected guest. The girl seemed less vigilant as she was offered a seat and cup and conversation started flowing as if both her and Geralt had always been there.

(y/n) stood next to him, a sigh leaving her nostrils as she crossed her arms and discreetly nudged the man’s broad figure.

“Yeah, I know. I have a lot to tell.”

“Yeah. You do.”

Geralt looked down at her to meet her eyes and, with a soft motion of his hand, uncrossed her arms. He smiled, in a way she knew he was promising to stay for a while. She couldn’t tell what he thought her eyes were saying, but whatever it was, he felt the need to hold her hand, hidden behind his cloak, caressing the cold skin of her knuckles with his thumb.

“I’m home.” his hoarse voice, along with the softness of his touch and stare, nearly warmed her up on the spot.

In the back of her mind, there was a voice telling her he would eventually leave again, but for once, she shut it down.

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Part II soon!

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia fic #the witcher netflix

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ardourie · 1 month

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ok cool ig im name dropping then, u are literally making up headcanons about me based on fucking nothing, i didn’t exclusively focus on the flaws of white trans people over cis white people if u actually read anything i posted instead of believing anons randomly accusing me of things you’d see my only issue is white people like YOU because you are white

watering down the impact of racism and pretending that it isn’t as harmful when coming from queer people as if being queer is an inherently purifying or redeemable action, this website is overwhelmingly trans, our circles are majority trans, getting into disagreements with trans people on here is going to happen bc of how many queer people there are on this platform, if the only people you claim i harassed are users like ratliker i don’t want to fucking hear it, i’ve been having people call me a terf for years bc of standing up to her racism and black genocide denial, every single fucking time someone on here does something racist and a brown person points it out ppl around you run to call them transphobic, like ur doing right now! the second sentence of her post literally says i deserve to be called a terf for just talking about the racism happening on the poll, she said that HERSELF

i said hussie has done racist acts and has racism in their comic, that doesn’t make hussie evil or fans of it evil it just means we should actually acknowledge its there and not have viral post going around claiming that none of what hussie did was that bad bc they’re trans and if ur bothered by it ur automatically transphobic, as if that isn’t an incredibly fucked up thing to say, bc u said that urself on ur blog multiple times, here’s my original and ONLY post that made someone go and tell plaidos i sent death threats when that wasn’t remotely what i was saying

plaidos posted this ask that immediately had ppl in my inbox calling me a terf and bigot for harassing a trans girl (hussie) and saying im a horrible person for sending death threats when i NEVER did that, had no reason to, and hussie isn’t even ON tumblr to do that

she also stated that she meant i “started” the death threats instead of sending them which is still a fucking lie bc the poll that i was referencing was posted FOUR days ago and has ppl fighting and talking about death threats about hussie before i even knew it fucking existed, and she would know bc she was arguing under the post four days ago HERSELF

how did i start death threats on a post i didnt find out about until 4 days after people were fighting under it? how the fuck does that work?

she then went on to slip up and reveal that she subconsciously thinks the queer community is only white bc when ppl complain about white queers they r complaining about latent racism, bc brown people exist in ur community and acting like poc criticizing white people (who will always be white no matter the other identities they have) means u hate queers is racist as hell

shit like THIS is what hussie was doing on a constant basis

these are just two examples you could google “homestuck racism” and find much more my only point that i ever made is that it’s insensitive and fucked up to act like anyone who doesn’t like or even hates homestuck for its racism is a transphobe or evil instead possibly someone deeply affected by hussies racism, and plaidos was under the original poll post i referenced arguing with black people calling them liars for saying hussie is racist and has antiblackness in his work:

if you recognize hussie is racist and has racism in their work why the fuck are you arguing with black people about that fact? why are you pretending people are lying and making up rumors when hussies racism has been a known fact for a literal decade at this point, hussie was quite literally responsible for a boom in antiblack racism online in the early internet you cannot be so dense as to not acknowledge this, and i want to clarify im literally a homestuck fan, homestuck meant so much to me as a kid, and bc of that i know that online spaces for homestuck treated black people like absolute shit for complaining about the racism, i was bullied and harassed so much for even being upset at characters in the comic using the n word or mocking black people, im criticizing it bc i care about it being such a large phenomenon responsible for the normalization of my oppression.

not going over the homestuck racism workshop thing bc u ppl r being purposefully obtuse and i already talked about it here

if you don’t believe me, please go ask the people accusing me of these things for screenshots of me sending death threats, ask them to show that i have no transfem friends, ask them to show it bc every fucking time theirs never any proof, stop believing ask u read about me with no proof stop believing rumors, put urself in the shoes of others, would you want hundreds of ppl sharing post saying you did something you didn’t fucking do with no proof? ask yourself why you don’t see many black people speak out on racism on here and ask urself if maybe it might correlate to how we get demonized for it, if you think callout culture is bad why participate in it in a way where you don’t even have photo evidence backing for what your sharing

lastly, u people keep going on and on about the company i keep but are the same ones cropping out the trans girls im friends with and constantly talking to on my blog, you did it with the last situation regarding aaron bushnell you did it with the previous pregnancy callout, yall literally accuse every trans girl around me of being self hating or theyfabs, random trans women who simply shared my opinion have been harassed and accused of being sock puppets, i have a whole post about that in my pinned, but u don’t care, it’s easier to make me a scape goat and deflect criticisms of racism despite you being white and unaffected than it is to simply go “yeah some people are gonna hate media that has racism in it and that isn’t indicative of anything other than hating racism” your fucking white, can we be serious right now, you published ask saying i was sending death threats to hussie when that never happened and accused me of starting the anger on a poll i never reblogged that a bunch of my trans girl mutuals were complaining about 16 hours ago, so which is it? transfem opinions matter to you or they don’t? bc it seems like u just pick a fucking choose which girls to listen to and like randomly going after black people for not liking antiblack racism

#drama

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shy-taylorsversion · 2 months

Text

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping.

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often.

“Depends, who is this?”

The response was almost immediate.

“Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush.

“I’m at a bar, what do you want?”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.”

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood.

They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again.

“I miss you.”

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address.

Present, April 2011

“What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.”

Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow.

Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months.

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days.

“He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”

“Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“

“Bye, Sam.”

The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road.

It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid.

Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was.

She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out.

That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.

The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.

“C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.”

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it.

She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult.

A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.

God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point.

“You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy.

She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.

She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive.

He’d left like an assassin.

Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged.

In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect.

“I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.”

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby.

She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal.

Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms.

Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.

“I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.”

Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling.

“I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes.

The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again.

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.

“Let’s get started?”

March 2010

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front. Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second.

Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

“C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.”

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door.

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.”

Present, April 2011

Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help.

Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then.

She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet.

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him.

Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun.

The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night.

She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor.

Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her.

She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor.

Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place.

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?”

“Yeah, You?”

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him.

“I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.

Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side.

Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop.

“What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled.

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps.

“I am fine.” She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.

The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished.

He was here, touching her, after so long.

Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting.

This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs.

The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark.

They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them.

Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.

They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.

They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.

None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her.

Now they knew she was there.

Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one.

Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact.

She swung.

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up.

Its head hit the floor.

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire.

The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment.

“Time for drinks?”

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready.

She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do. She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less.

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”

Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms.

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.” She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him.

She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut.

“Y/n, look at me.”

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.

Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft. She knew where this was going.

Dean took a deep breath before starting.

“Look, what I did-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat.

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.”

Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed.

“Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.”

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest. He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished.

“Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much.

His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears.

“Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?”

“Y/n.”

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.

“You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face.

“Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.”

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away.

“It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.”

She let out a bitter laugh.

She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go.

She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“For what it's worth, I am sorry.”

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink.

She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead.

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean.

She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.

The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night.

“I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it? Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him.

“It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.” She smiled at him.

“You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind.

The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.

Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one.

And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it.

She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester songfic #dean winchester

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

AITA for making a YouTuber feel uncomfortable?

Here me out please, before you all make assumptions.

A couple months ago, I(19F) began following a YouTuber that I quickly began to love. I won’t be saying the YouTuber’s name for the sake of protecting their privacy, obviously. I started to watch their videos(which were mainly about a story that she came up with, featuring her ocs) and enjoyed them all, enjoyed the ocs, too. This YouTuber is a relatively unpopular one, but not so unpopular that they’re obscure or completely unheard of, they’re just not one of the big names in the YouTuber community. I made a few amazing friends due to us being in the same fandom and both enjoying this YouTuber’s content. One day, I decided to write a fanfic for this person’s story featuring her ocs. I uploaded the fic to AO3 and made sure to credit the YouTuber with creating these amazing ocs. I then showed it to my few friends, who all loved the fanfic. However, one day I made the mistake of showing the fic to a mutual friend(now an ex-friend but that’s a topic for another discussion) that me and the YT both share, and she sent the fanfic to the YT without my permission. Now before y’all get up in arms, I didn’t mind at all that she had sent it to the YT, in fact, I actually wanted the YT to see. However I really wish that she had asked me first, because I would have been more than happy to show it to them! Unfortunately, a few days after I sent it to her, my other friend(let’s call her M) showed me an announcement the YT made on her Discord, in which she complained about people writing fanfictions of her ocs and “using” them in her stories without her permission. She also stated that she felt like she was losing control of her story when other people wrote fanfics of it, and that whoever wrote the fanfiction “didn’t understand boundaries”(even though she didn’t have this boundary before and also wrote in the announcement that she used to be okay with fanfics of her work, but now no longer is). I deleted the fanfic the moment I saw the post from my friend, but I was a bit disappointed since I never meant to make her feel uncomfortable and only wanted to show my love and appreciation for her story, and possibly get more people to check out her story as well. Still, I deleted the fanfic from AO3.

Now, here’s where things get interesting. A while later, I joined the YouTuber’s Discord server, where I met many people that I got along quite well with and quickly befriended. I often engaged in conversations with them about the story, and often drew fanart of my favorite character and posted it to the art channel in the server(she’s okay with fanart of her ocs, just not fanfics). Now is probably a good time to mention that while I was in the Discord server(and even before that) I often talked about the story with my friend on Tumblr(not M, these are two separate friends) who did not have Discord but loved the story just as much as I did. We often talked about the story and how much we enjoyed it, and often came up with jokes and headcanons, basic stuff like that, that any fan would do. Anyway, back to the Discord, one of the rules of the server was not to be disrespectful or rude or malicious towards other people, and another was that if you received two warnings about your behavior in the server then you would be quickly banned from the server and no longer allowed to come back. I understood this and tried to conduct myself to the best of my ability. However, one day, I found myself mysteriously unable to access the server, and when I tried to rejoin, I was again unable to. I found out that the reason I couldn’t access the server was because I had been banned due to “disrespectful behavior”, “engaging in arguments”, and making the YouTuber(who ran the server) uncomfortable. I was confused, because I genuinely don’t remember ever engaging in rude behavior with anyone. The few instances(according to them) in which I had been allegedly rude or disrespectful to people were both genuine misunderstandings, and both times I had apologized for them and did not repeat the behavior. I also did not receive any form of warning before being banned, despite one of the rules being that you will receive two warnings before being banned from the server. Still, I apologized for my alleged hostility and asked if I could come back, however the YouTuber said no, and went on to add that not only was I rude to people in the server(which, again, were both genuine misunderstandings), but that she had seen my Tumblr conversations with my friends in which I talked about her story, and said that she was “wildly uncomfortable” with how “obsessive” I was with it as well as my favorite character in the story. This bewildered me to no end because the YouTuber did not have Tumblr and had never once ever mentioned being on or having access to Tumblr, so I did not expect her to see my posts(and even if she did, I did not expect to get banned for them as they do not violate the rules of the server). It made me wonder why she didn’t just talk to me and explain to me that she was uncomfortable with me posting about her work instead of just banning me altogether and not giving me a chance to defend myself. I ended up sadly and reluctantly deleting all of my posts relating to her story, and requesting my friend to do the same. I told M about this scenario, and she was enraged on my behalf, saying that the YouTuber probably was actually upset about my having written a fanfic for her ocs, and said that she didn’t understand me being called obsessive because I acted like a normal fan would(which I agree with). Some of my other friends have sided with me as well and told me that the YouTuber was acting petty, however some of my friends have taken a middle ground. None of them entirely condemned me, but that may just be because they are biased and don’t want to hurt my feelings. The mutual friend/now ex-friend(of course) merely told me to “self-reflect” and move on from the story. Regardless, the YouTuber now has me blocked, not just on Discord, but on Instagram as well, where I also reside.

Reasons why I think I might be the asshole: I will admit that I have a tendency to really hyperfixate on things and get especially attached to fictional characters that I adore and resonate with, so I can see why that would make them uncomfortable. That being said…

Reasons why I think I might not be the asshole: I genuinely wasn’t trying to make this wonderful YouTuber feel uncomfortable or be “obsessive” with the story. I merely wanted to show my appreciation for it in a way that I thought was normal for online fans, which included writing a fanfic, drawing fanart, and geeking out about the story with my friends(admittedly publicly). I had no idea that these actions would turn the YouTuber off, and merely wanted to show how much I enjoyed the story. I also was never rude to anyone in the server and apologized whenever a misunderstanding rose up. I never tried to be aggressive with anyone or cursed anybody out or tried to have arguments with people, so I have no idea where that came from.

So, what say ye, oh wise people of Tumblr? Am I the asshole or not?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lychniis · 3 months

Text

⚘ ― EVENFALL ! ( valentines day event ).

( # )ㅤ evenfallㅤ —ㅤ twilight ; dusk. the period or the light from the sky between full night and sunrise or between sunset and full night.

syn. a valentines day / white day event inspired by hozier lyrics ( and also seconding as my 1000 follower event i suppose XD ). feel free to drop by and select a prompt from the list below alongside a flower / genre. you could always opt for more flowers. however please note that minors are not allowed to request for / interact with nsfw works. please note that the maximum character limit is three.

this was more of a last minute bout of silliness, but i'd love to write some requests for you guys after supporting me and my bs for nearly two years now XD. so hey hey, my inbox is open to be raided! i'm currently taking this event for genshin impact and honkai star rail!

prompts. the prompts and flowers available are listed below. you can request a single prompt + one of more flowers of your choice! you could also add some additional suggestions if you'd like, say a setting or an au or a scenario! requests close by the 20th of febuary. i'll start posting on white day, march 14th.

daisy — fluff.

hyacinth — angst.

tulip — crack / humor.

orchid — smut.

i. ❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

ii. ❛ no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her. ❜

iii. ❛ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

iv. ❛ some like to imagine. the dark caress of someone else. i guess any thrill will do. ❜

v. ❛ honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes. i feel like a person for a moment of my life. ❜

vi. ❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

vii. ❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

viii. ❛ know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty, oh my sunlight. ❜

ix. ❛ you don’t understand, you should never know, how easy you are to need. ❜

x. ❛ idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword. ❜

xi. ❛ honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. ❜

xii. ❛ i'm so full of love I could barely eat. ❜

xiii. ❛ honey you're familiar, like my mirror years ago. ❜

xiv. ❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜

xv. ❛ there’s something tragic about you. ❜

xvi. ❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

xvii. ❛ still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs. ❜

xviii. ❛ i’ve known the warmth of your doorways. through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ❜

xix. ❛ screaming the name of a foreigner's god, the purest expression of grief. ❜

xx. ❛ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted, but i’m singing like a bird about it now.

xxi. ❛ the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. ❜

xxii. ❛ i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

xxiii. ❛ i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me. ❜

xxiv. ❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

xxv. ❛ i had been lost to you, sunlight, and flew like a moth to you. ❜

xxvi. ❛ it’s not my arms that will fail me, but this world takes more strength than it gave me. ❜

xxvii. ❛ i need you to run to me, run until you feel your lungs bleeding. ❜

xxviii. ❛ i will not ask where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

xxix. ❛ be still, my foolish heart. don't ruin this on me. ❜

xxx. ❛ honey, i wanna race you to the table, if you hesitate, the getting is gone. ❜

( all the dialog prompts presented here are taken from songs by hozier. i own none of them. )

EVENT WORKSㅤ •ㅤ ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

our spot, 2 * ls2

it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: logan is the warning idk

notes: i know it took me forever to write this subpar ass second part but like- i kinda like it because i'm bad with resolutions and making up (i'm single)

also i'd like to have a word with whoever made this gif because it's like so disrespectful like he is so fine why would u do this?

(f1 masterlist)

(prev)

“you’re growing up too fast,” your mother had said to you earlier after you finished packing the last of your boxes. the boxes that would be sent off to new york in a couple of days before you head out right before new year’s.

thankfully, your family agreed on flying over with you to spend the holiday with you. you had spent weeks and months rethinking the choice of your relocation; if you could handle being away from your family.

your father insisted you explore the world without them by your side and you took up the offer. you'd broken up with the guy you were seeing a couple of days ago.

while you had your doubts about where your relationship was going, there was no denying the amount of time you'd spent together. it still stung you quite a little bit to up and leave him. he had asked you if there was any way to make it work, but you couldn't get yourself to say anything.

so, he pulled you in for a hug and wished you well. and then you left, tearing up very slightly on the drive home alone.

it would be nice to start fresh in a new place. your last conversation convincing you to pick up the pieces of yourself and start moving on for real.

though, it seems it would take forever to do that. you hadn’t only lost a romantic connection when you lost logan, but also your best friend.

the first person you called when you crashed your car on the highway when you were 17, the person who stood up to the girl who made fun of you when you were 9, and the only one who knew you better than you knew yourself.

so here you are at 3 in the morning walking the quiet streets of your small town with your hands in the pockets of your sweater. you try to stifle the sniffle that escapes you, having spent the past couple of hours in tears at the thought of leaving behind everything you’ve ever known.

packing up and spending months in new york, then indefinitely in germany made you a nervous wreck. though the company you’re working for has arranged everything for you from the airport pickup to the apartment estate you’ll be spending your days in.

when you left your house, you glanced across the street to disappointment. logan’s truck isn’t parked on the street and his room had its blinds drawn — the way it’s been since you last saw him.

when you first got the promotion, you almost picked up your phone to text logan. but the heavy weight of guilt made you hit erase and put your phone down after a second.

even when you had graduated about 6 months after cutting contact, you wanted so bad to send him a photo of you and your degree together. but, there was something so embarrassing about reaching out and starting a conversation like nothing had happened.

you posted it on your instagram stories, reposting every single tagged picture for days after to hopefully prompt a message of congratulations from logan. but he didn’t bite.

it made you wonder if you’ve truly made a mistake suddenly cutting him off.

you sigh, making a sharp turn after you pass the school. there’s a dark figure up ahead on the playground that makes you question if it’s a mistake that you’ve come here so late at night.

but it’s a relatively safe gated community. you press your lips together as you approach, your breath hitching in your throat when you’re finally able to make out the man sitting at the end of the slide.

“fancy seeing you here,” logan mumbles, throwing the pieces of rubber from the playground floor into the ground. “it’s late.”

“yeah, i just finished packing,” you answer under your breath, passing him to sit at the edge of another slide. “just needed to do some thinking. didn’t expect you’d be here.”

logan grins to himself with a soft chuckle. “yeah, i’m sorry for intruding.”

you hadn’t been here since you last asked him to come here and see you. in fact, prior to that meetup, you’d only been here a total of 5 times since you last talked.

it reminded you too much of the memories you shared with him growing up.

you lie back in the comfort of the slide. “don’t worry about it. i don’t come here often,” you smile to yourself as you confess. "not anymore."

"i can tell," logan mutters. "i've been here every night since you texted me."

"oh." you take a deep breath, not knowing if you'd like the answer to your question. "what for?"

"thinking real hard," he says just barely above a whisper. he turns to you with a small smile. "i was thinking about you. and germany... and how close it is to me."

your breath hitches. you won't admit to him, but you accepted the offer to move to germany to at least be remotely close to him. or to at least convince him to give your relationship a shot.

you've been apart for years. the only way you got to spend time together back then was if you'd make the effort to visit him in the uk, or if he had the time to fly back home. it was difficult to keep finding ways to make the relationship last.

you had to pretend for a while that you never had to end it. but you knew in your heart two years ago that it cannot keep going on like this. you cried and cried every single time at the airport when he would have to leave you behind in this small town.

you knew his mother mentioned to him about the guy you were seeing. because your mother came to you asking questions about the mysterious guy you never even told her about.

every night after that, you thought about calling logan to explain yourself; that it's not what he thinks it is. but were you really in the position where you had to explain yourself?

"i do love you," he says, picking at the rubber grit once more to avoid your stare. "but the long-distance... barely seeing each other for months on end... it was hard. i couldn't give you what a normal guy would. i couldn't keep making you wait around for nothing."

"but that's not up to you to decide," you say slowly, hoping that he would understand where you came from. "it's unfair. i was willing to go through all of that with you. we've been through so much together."

"i didn't want to risk losing you over something like that," logan sighs, looking up at you in despair. there's a sadness in his eyes that you've never seen before. "it was lonely without you. you're my best friend - losing you over something different entirely was devastating. i didn't have anybody else."

you shake your head, unsure of what to say to him. it was lonely for you when you cut him off. you went from communicating everyday to only catching glimpses of his life on tv, instagram and media news sites.

every single achievement you had, you thought about calling him and hearing his proud voice. but you couldn't fully back yourself on the fact that you broke your own heart because he wanted to keep you around.

"i thought of you every single day," logan says. "i'm sorry. i know you've got a boyfriend and i'm sure he's great, but-"

"i told you," you laugh dryly, throwing your head back. "if you just tell me right now... i'll be all yours."

"but i can't do that to somebody else," logan frowns with a shake of his head. he's contemplated a lot over the past couple of days. how appealing your proposal sounds to him, but the fact that you're still seeing somebody has been making him hesitate. "you know what that means."

you press your lips together. logan's always made sure that he was as morally right as much as he could with his decisions. you sigh, a small hesitant smile stretching your lips. "we broke up."

"what?"

"i broke up with him a couple days ago," you whisper, dropping your eyes to avoid his questioning stare. "i just wanted to go to germany with a fresh start."

logan doesn't say anything immediately. and you don't follow up your confession with anything either. so you look up into the sky as you sway your feet left and right as you try to count the stars that illuminate the night sky. your heart pounds in your chest as you anticipate what he will say next.

and you know he's still there, thinking hard because you can still see his shadow against the playground flooring.

"stay the night," he says softly.

you sit up, both of your hands gripping the sides of the slide as you turn to look at him. "what did you just say?"

"come home with me and then let's talk about it," logan smiles, though he still looks just as tired as before. "let's figure it out, you and me; germany. let me make this right."

"you idiot," you laugh, tears falling out of your eyes again as you have another outburst. "logan."

"wait, why are you crying?" his voice is soft and laced with shock, hands held out towards your body. "i thought this was what you wanted? did i cross a line? i'm sorry."

"no, i just," you cry, wiping the tears from your face. "god, i just missed you so much. i'm sorry. it's not you."

he's now gotten up from his seat. he's knelt down next to the slide you're sitting in, trying to reach out and touch your arm. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry it took me this long." his thumbs swipe over your cheeks, wiping away your tears. "please don't cry anymore."

@thatgirlmj @lfm98 @gentlyweeps-world @ladywhistledownx @charli123456789 @lightdragonrayne @k-pevensie28 @angsthology

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 x y/n #logan sargeant x y/n #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant fanfiction #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 2 months

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Hope Morphin Q&A

About a few months ago, I got a message from a surprising source: @hmrphin/Hope Morphin.

In case you don't know, Hope Morphin is a model and makeup artist who the character of Marc was based on. I also made a post about how their friendship with Astruc had ended thanks to the Rising Sun Flag controversy, which they had actually read one day. We talked a little, and they told me to message them on their Instagram to confirm that this is the real Hope.

They said they'd be down to answer some questions, I came up with a few, and I got their permission to post this on my account. So, without further ado, as Sid the Science Kid once said, let's go get some answers.

Question: When did you and Thomas first get to know each other, and how?

Answer: It was years ago, when the series premiered on TFOU. There were a lot of people complaining on twitter that the characters of the show were in 3D instead of in 2D, and I answered one of Thomas' tweets saying that characters' butts looked better in 3D rather than in 2D (yeah, I had a terrible sense of humor back then, glad I don't do that anymore) and he answered "yeah we could say that lol". Then, it became a running gag between us on the web, and we met for the first time at a french convention called Japan Tours, the 2015 one. So yeah, I think it was when I was... 20/21 years old, something like that.

Question: It's okay. We've all been cringe at some point in their lives. Did you two meet up again after the convention?

Answer: Yup. In fact, after the convention, he sent me a friend request on Facebook. Then, we chatted for a bit and he asked me if I wanted to be a model for him, and I met him for the second time during that model session.

Question: How did Thomas approach you about creating a character in his show based on you?

Answer: So, it was after I modeled for him. It happened after S1 has ended, so when we were chatting, he asked me which one was my favorite character. I answered Nathaniel, because at this time I felt quite close to this one (we love the angsty artist boy lmao). He told me that he didn't understand people liking Nath because he found it was a very empty character aha, but then he told me that they were searching for inspiration to create a boyfriend for him. He told me he wanted the persons to be happy that he got a boyfriend and that they would “stop bothering him with Nathaniel”, and as he wanted to take inspiration on someone looking androgynous he thought I was a good inspiration, so I accepted.

Question: Interesting story. Didn't know Nathaniel was so popular before Season 2. Did you have any input in the creation of Marc in terms of stuff like his design or personality?

Answer: Yeah he rather was, I remember a lot of people wanted to see more of him ehe. Not at all, I even though that he was joking on the moment, then one day he sent me Marc's characters sheet. I had the same haircut back in the day. Also, I was always wearing armor rings and I was wearing those kind of rings when I had this conversation with him, and he told me that Marc was going to have one of those as his miraculous. I was also still writing a lot back in the days, so I guess he still did took some stuff there and there in my personality to create him.

Question: You mean this design?

Answer: Yup! I was wearing only black sooo yeah the red and rainbow wasn't in my wardrobe aha.

Question: Do you know why they made the design rainbow themed?

Answer: Nah, he didn't told me :/ My guess is to make him more LGBT+ themed...

Question: Okay, sorry. Next question: What are your thoughts on Marc as a character? What do you think of his relationship with Nathaniel and his respective villain and hero forms, Reverser and Rooster Bold?

Answer: To be honest, when he first appeared, I really liked him. I thought he had a lot of potential as a character, his villain form was really cool and I really liked the ideas behind him, and I liked the relationship that he got with Nathaniel, from enemies to associates ehe. But after that... meh. There wasn't nothing much on the LGBT+ relationship with Nathaniel (we had to wait until the end of season 5 to see them hold hands... wow), and I didn't really find myself anymore in his character. I liked the design of his hero form and I liked the concept of his power, but like the other heroes that appeared during this episode, we didn't see Rooster Bold that much and I think that doesn't really make him feel appealing. I have the feeling that Marc and many other side characters could be way more develop in very cool subthemes but this is never really done in the series. Instead, now, they are just the characters getting out a whiteboard and giving terrible ideas to Marinette for her to date Adrien =="

Question: Just for fun, do you have any personal headcanons for Marc?

Answer: Well of course ehe, I have ton of those :D

Mmmh... For example, I think he is a dog person, that he's also fond of fashion such as Marinette but that he just don't have the patience to learn how to draw and how to design clothes... Also have the headcanon that him and Nath often meet at one of their places to do some little workshops together to work on their series and on tons of other projects :D

Got also tons of headcanon for future!Marc, such as him being a model for lgbt+ brands and Nath designing his clothes, I would love to see this shy patootie being at the front of the spotlight ehe, full of confidence and all :D There's tons of ideas to have with this character, I remember when I saw lots of artists drawing him with alternate clothes back in the day, such as shishitsunari or hazy (will try to find them back but it's been a while lol). I wish those clothing styles would be canon, with Marc rocking those kind of genderless clothes.

Links to fanart of Marc with different outfits: (https://www.deviantart.com/hazydayclouds/art/72918-756895643) and (https://ladyofacat.tumblr.com/post/176231424098/rises-from-the-underworld-marc-is-perfect-i-want)

Question: This one's a little tough, so if you don't want to answer, that's perfectly fine. What exactly went down before Thomas blocked you? Did you have any conversation online or in real life regarding the use of the Rising Sun Flag in "Ephemeral", or did Thomas just block you with no warning?

Answer: Honestly ? Blocked me without any warning. We were talking less and less, and, since I have affective dependancy, I had the feeling that I said / done something wrong. He was often answering only when I was defending him on social medias during these times. But we didn't have any harsh conversation from what I recall. So, I did the tweet about ephemeral, pointing out the use of the rising sun flag, and, well, maybe he had a plugin on twitter that blocked everyone using the term "flag", and maybe it blocked me automatically. The thing is : he has my number, he has my address (well, my old address now, lol). He had many ways to tell me this was a misunderstanding and that he didn't want to block me. He didn't call me, didn't send me any text after that to talk about it, so he clearly didn't want to make anything to sort out the problem. To this day, he still hasn't send me any message to talk about it. He commented on some of my facebook posts I did last year (I posted some makeups I did for my school) just saying it was cool, so... Yeah, not the type of friend I want to keep. I still have him as a friend on FB if I ever get the guts to try to send him a message to tell him everything that was wrong towards me and towards other people, but I clearly have other things to deal with lately.

Question: So he blocked you and didn't say anything else?

Answer: Yup, exactly, blocked me and didn't say anything else :/ After years of supporting him lmao.

Question: I'm really sorry to hear that. And you still haven't heard from him after all this time?

Answer: Well, apart from some comments he made on my facebook posts (I posted my makeup from my makeup school and he commented "very nice!") nothing at all. But honestly I'm not too bothered by that. I heard new stuff that he did prior and I really don't think it's a good idea that I interact with him again. I keep him in my facebook friends because maybe one day I'll send him a message to try to confront him, telling him that he had a very terrible behavior towards me and other people... But not today, I have other stuff to deal with.

Question: Despite everything that's happened between you and Thomas, do you still keep up with Miraculous Ladybug? If so, what do you think of it?

Answer:

Well, I've kept up with it because I still have lots of friends who are watching it (for example Octolady, Kogenta and Candy...), and they help me keep a little hype.

So I watched the episodes... There are some stuff that I like. There's good LGBT+ representation, and I like seeing an international known cartoon doing that (especially a french one since we have lots of far-right rising lately).

But honestly, I don't have the same hype as before. At the beginning, I was hyped because S1 looked awesome and had lots of cool fights, lots of wholesome characters and all, but the animation problems and differences are really making me bothered. Also, I have the feeling there's a lot of characters who could be more elaborated and who aren't, and... That's kinda sad, because there's a lot of topics that could be explored thanks to them and not just brushed off in one episode.

Plus, to be honest, I didn't really like the ending of S5. And I don't like the idea of it going on for seasons and seasons and seasons, milked until there's nothing more for it. The fewer the better in my mind...

I also seen the movie and didn't really liked it. Too much fanservice and didn't really made sense. The animation was nice, though.

Honestly, I love the writing team, they are wholesome people and they are doing their best for this show, but people like Thomas and Zag are the kind of people I don't want to support anymore. So yeah... To sum it up : still watching it from afar to see if nice stuff is happening, been pleased with some little stuff, displeased with a lot more, but I don't think I'll keep watching it both because I'm not that hyped up anymore and because I don't want to support anymore these 2 people. I supported Thomas too much before, was too attached to him and was a terrible person towards fans who didn't deserved it because I was too blind, so yeah, won't happen anymore.

Still, I'm glad there's still some people who are fans of Marc and who felt helped thanks to this character. I really hope he will have a better representation in the future (clear relationship with Nath, maybe even some trans / non-binary representation ?) in order to inspire young people.

----------------------------------------------------------

I'd like to personally thank Hope for being willing to answer my questions, and I highly reccommend giving their Instagram a follow.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #thomas astruc #thomas astruc salt #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marc anciel #rooster bold #reverser

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roseykat · 3 months

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hard thought part 2

This is part 2 to a hard thought that a lovely anon sent me not too long ago x

A/N: tagging @lyramundana who’s the usual instigator of my Minsung thoughts. I also have no idea how long this is lol

(if you haven’t read the first one, you don’t need to but for context it might be good)

Reader couldn’t have asked for a better experience when Minsung took her virginity. And although they’ve taken her ‘V card’, she’s still relatively inexperienced yet potently eager to do more. Almost like a puppy with unlimited excitement. That excitement stems from finally understanding that there’s more to sex than just sex with another person (or people in her case). It’s the temporary sting when one of either of their cocks stretch her open, the out of body orgasms they bring her to, the slow, sloppy kisses, the aftercare too. She enjoys every single bit of it and is damn near just about running Minsung dry as they try to keep up with her.

They could never lie about how hot and slightly cute it is to see her wanting to jump on their dicks at every chance she gets. Unintentionally so, they’ve managed to turn her into some cock-dumb slut. But it’s not her fault that she just loves being filled up by her two significant others🩷

However, it could be better, if they let her take them both at the same time, which at this stage, they won’t and for a few good reasons.

She’s been pestering them for a while now about how they should let her do it, but as they keep reminding her, she’s not ready yet. Yes, she might being having a lot of sex with them, but double penetration isn’t your every day sexual activity that people have the pleasure (literally) of doing. But that’s for people who aren’t in a relationship where there’s more than two and don’t always tend to explore.

In saying that, they love her so much and they know it’s a possibility for her at some stage in time. There’s nothing more either of them want other than to just slip their cocks into her holes that are for them to fill, and only them.

So they all decide to sit down and devise some type of plan to help train, prepare, and ease her towards the full experience. Not to mention to ensure that she is as comfortable as possible throughout everything. They first take into consideration that she has never done anal before. On top of that, it would take her some time getting used to the overwhelming sensation that comes with being stretched out by two things at once.

Therefore, Minsung thinks it’s best for her to start with anal training. Both Minho and Jisung are obviously pretty experienced in that realm before they met her so they have the knowledge and research on where, when, and how to start. The pair of them head to a sex shop to purchase a few things. They would’ve brought their girlfriend along but they also want to surprise her with these new items.

They buy her an anal training kit that contains a variety of small to big dildos for beginners, a pink jewelled, stainless steel butt plug, anal beads, a dildo specifically for anal, and even a wireless vibrating butt plug too that can be used outside of the bedroom. Some would probably think it’s all unnecessary or over the top even, but Minsung just wants to go all out for their princess and are as enthusiastic as she is. Not to mention, they want to properly prepare her and give her some experience leading up to it.

Minsung would come back to show her all the new toys they bought for her resulting in her fawning over them immediately. She’s intrigued by everything - the plugs, the beads, and what not. So with some preparation, Minsung suggests that they could probably start soon but take into consideration of everyone’s moods on when to do it.

Jisung, being the horny bastard that he is, is keen whenever and wherever. Minho doesn’t get as horny as him, but when someone else is in the mood, he never misses an opportunity to lay it down in bed with his two lovers. Reader on the other hand, ever since she’s started having sex, all she wants is cock. That’s all.

That’s her not so hidden agenda.

So when the right time arrives, Minsung pulls out the training kit first that contains the smallest dildo out of the lot of toys they purchased. Beforehand, they make sure she is well aroused. Jisung lets her suck him off, but only for a little bit because they want to make it about her since again, this is her first time with anything anal-toy related which isn’t to be confused with the experience of having anal sex with a real person. She would get around to that eventually.

She allows Minho to go down on her, edging her until she’s leaking and wet but doesn’t actually let her cum. His theory is that they need to work her up enough without making her orgasm. To fluster her. Once she’s prepped for the small dildo and fully adjusted, only then will he make her cum to distract her from any discomfort she may feel. In the end, his theory proved right.

First they’d get her onto all fours before Jisung would assist in lubing up her hole, circling his fingers around the tight muscle just to stimulate it. He’s so badly tempted to sink his finger in but puts a leash on his irrationality. But as Minho gently rubs her clit with his fingers, Jisung has the task of slowly and carefully inserting the small toy. He lets her know when he’s about to start so that there’s no surprise and begins pushing at snails pace.

It’s a new sensation for her. Uncomfortable at first with a tiny bit of a sting, but that’s what she was expecting anyway. It’s almost similar to her first time having sex with them previously. Both of them constantly check up on her, letting her know that she can stop or rest at any time she wants. But with the help of them giving her proper foreplay, she’s aroused and wants to keep going. Jisung would sink the smallest dildo into her ass and slowly pull back out until it reaches the tip, then he would cautiously push back in. He does this a few times just for her to get used to the feeling.

Minho would be filling her up with praise, telling her how much of a good girl she is, how well she’s taking it, how gorgeous she looks all the while gently swiping her hair out of her face, kissing her on the cheek, and what not. Jisung uses his other hand to smooth delicately over her asscheeks and down her back. They do this until they start getting a different sort of reaction out of her. When they see her expression go from contorted and slightly pained to more relaxed and soft, they know that she’s starting to enjoy it.

Jisung would keep her in that position - face down ass up, still carefully and slowly fucking her with the dildo while Minho picks up a vibrator to use on her clit. Having not cum before, her mind was instantly taken off anything uncomfortable that still lingers and made to focus on cumming. Which she does - effortlessly around the small yet highly effective length as her pussy leaks down the vibrator.

Minsung watches her legs tremble as she cums quietly from the pleasure. They’ve never seen her do that. Usually she’s vocal and always announces that she’s going to orgasm. Not this time. She just does it and they both find it so mesmerising and hot to watch her wet pussy clench around nothing. Minho and Jisung can only imagine what the next few sessions in the future are going to look like which arrive in the few days ahead.

The second time around that they’re in the bedroom, they repeat the process. Only this time with a dildo that’s the next size up in width and length. They follow the same steps; foreplay, fuck, prep, and the main act.

The third time around, they use the beads. While they maybe be slightly smaller in girth, the length is noticeable. It also makes it a decent apparatus to use while one of them is fucking her. They take turns using her pussy and working her up even more with the beads. Minho is the first to bust a hot load inside her, giving Jisung the chance to fuck it right back into her. Just a little bit after she starts to cum, like a split second when she tips over the edge, Jisung pulls his cock out first and slowly draws back the beads whilst she’s orgasming.

They both made a note how how much she screamed and shook from how fucking good it felt despite contracting and cumming around nothing, giving a whole other meaning to what an orgasm should always feel like. She quickly adds it to the list of things they’re all going to retry in the future.

The next step in training her are the butt plugs which also quickly become a favourite, main reason being is that they could incorporate it in public. She dared to use the vibrating one first which was a huge mistake, especially when the app resides on the phone of a trigger happy person like Jisung who kept increasing the intensity and speed about three times every minute. It had her clutching onto Minho, warning him that she was going to cum. Minho had to tell him to slow down otherwise she wasn’t going to make it through the rest of their weekly shop at the supermarket.

It doesn’t take her long to wanting to transition into some form of double penetration, like a warmup or taste test as to what she could expect from being fucked by her two partners simultaneously. Just to practice, they use dildos on her. Not too big, but not entirely small either. After a lot of foreplay and prep, Minho takes one dildo and Jisung takes the other. Each of them using her holes like their personal fuck toys.

As time progresses, she’s finally built up a tolerance to the point where she’s more comfortable with anal. Minho’s even caught her trying to finger both her holes at the same time which gave him a bit more of an indication to suggest that she was ready. Although it would still take some getting used to their actual cocks and nothing artificial, she knows what to expect even more.

When the day finally came, Minsung set it out similar to how they did when they first took her virginity. Slow, steady, and again - a lot of foreplay and prepping her. Jisung makes her sit on his face until she’s cumming and dripping down the sides of his cheeks. They needed to give her at least one orgasm to relax her muscles and open her up a bit. Minho would then have the pleasure of prepping and stretching her out for one of them to fuck her, which ends up being himself since Jisung fucked her first last time.

They get her into a position where Jisung is lying back so that she can sit and sink down on his cock before leaning forward over him a bit, presenting her ass for Minho. With a bit more lube for added glide, he presses his tip against her hole. He lets her know when he’ll start pushing before he slowly inserts his dick. Reader would whimper at some of the sting that Minho’s cock brings with it, a reminder to her that he is far from small but wouldn’t have it any other way.

Below her, Jisung would be playing and sucking on her tits as a distraction. The odd sensation of the pain and pleasure would make her dizzy and inevitably make her want more of it.

Minho would still push himself in, getting halfway up his length before he notices that she’s trying to fuck back onto his cock. But he’d still her by the hip with his hand and tell her that as much as she wants to be filled out by him, she needs to take it slow. She’d accompany a response to that with a long whine and sob before burying her face into Jisung’s neck.

They’d also repeatedly instil confidence and praise in her. She needs to know how hot her body looks with two cocks inside it, how they can’t resist fucking her senseless like this - something they have to refrain from doing until she’s fully used to it at some point in time. For now, they go slow.

The pair of them end up burying their cocks to the hilt, garnering as much pleasure as she is when they start thrusting. Despite the fact that it’d be slow and not as brutal as they can be, they make her cum faster than they’ve ever done since she’s started having sex. Not once do they pull out to give her a rest because they want to fuck her through all of her orgasms that they give her and until they themselves start to give out. They want to see both of their loads drip out of her when they’re done.

Her first experience with double penetration has changed the trajectory of their sex lives. Words can’t even come close to how animalistic and ruthless it is once they’ve fully broken their babygirl in. She becomes nothing but two holes for them to use as they please, a personal cum dump for whenever they feel the need to fuck something.

But again, it’s their fault for corrupting her that way. They wouldn’t have suspected that their cocks could turn her from their innocent, unassuming, sweet and kind doll who had never been touched the way they touch her - to a cum hungry slut that needs to be filled up at least once a day to be satisfied.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #lee know smut #poly minsung #minsung x reader

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