#wanted connection: enemies with benefits
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♈︎ 𝔄𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 ♈︎
✶ Aries in 1st: Being ruled by the planet Mars, these natives give a bold and invigorating first impression. What you see is what you get with Aries in the first- they have a raw and honest personality- which can be off putting for some people because it can be taken as rude depending on the person/situation- but I have to say you must admire them for being so tenacious and authentic in nature. I can hands down say the best quality about Aries in the first is what you see is what you get! They have a strong ego here, are not ashamed of their behaviors, body or personality - regardless of what others say to or about them.
✶ Aries in 2nd: Bold spenders, can be quick to have, give away and lose money. Fleeting self worth and values- can feel and act confident one hour and then shy and shameful the next. Values honesty, integrity and sense of self- this may be because they don’t have the greatest sense of self. Believes that kids and the younger generations have the most value in the world. Having children of their own could be of the greatest importance- OR (and this is a big or) they could never want kids and value connecting to their inner child and independence greatly. It’s one or the other. Can feel at war with their finances and self worth.
✶ Aries in 3rd: Athletic and popular in middle school/high school. Known for their leadership skills and qualities amongst their peers, classmates, cousins and siblings. Can be the youngest of their siblings or babied by others. Intellectually motivated, driven and competitive. Impulsive and passionate in their speech. May say things for shock value or improv their actual knowledge. Finds stimulation in an intellectual debate and arguing. It’s hard to win an argument with these people because they speak so quickly- their arguing style is just backing people into a corner mentally, they don’t give up easily. However, they can regret things that they say when they are angry or upset.
✶ Aries in 4th: Huge indicator of raising yourself as a kid. Family required you to be very active, you could be the most successful in your family as an adult because of this. Family is a point of weakness for you, mainly because they possess a lot of “childish” qualities. You may feel like your parents/guardians were big babies and never grew up. You could put a lot of energy towards your family, but could have a shorter fuse with them over all people. You may be the youngest out of your entire family. Your family could be competitive with you our vise versa. Your family could be the start of your “Villan Arc” 💀- your family may have childish values, argue a lot or they may be a “board game family”. TW - Worst case scenario- violence in the home.
✶ Aries in 5th: Play fights when flirting, aggressive flirters, acts like they hate their crush. I have this placement lmaooo and I LOVE to play fight with my man- like btch?! You wanna go!?!?!? It’s so much fun to me and usually leads to s*xies ayyye. But that’s definitely a me thing, I love to talk smack to my significant other- that’s how it’s always been. Being competitive, NO BORING DATES EVER! Known to have secs on the first date. Passionate- goooood lovers. Either wants to have kids right away or doesn’t want kids at all- this I huge independence thing that keeps them from not wanting to have kids. You can’t be the baby, if you have a baby! Commitment issues.
✶ Aries in 6th: Enjoys active routines and work place. Known to work in establishments with competitive pay and many enemies in work place. Can be scene as bossy by their coworkers. Needs to be weary of being hypocritical of their coworkers. Temper at work. Benefits from a workout routine. Needs to take out stress and anger from work & daily responsibilities. Can be very active or have hyper pets, may need a big back yard to run their dogs or other animals in. Competitive in health and motivated to be the best version’s of themselves. Picky with their diet and what they decide to put in their bodies. Can have an all or nothing attitude- because theirs definitely a reason why they are so picky. Usually this stems from poor self care habits and bad physical health.
✶ Aries in 7th: Passionate and assertive lovers, the fire they feel for their committed partners are unmatched. They may loose interest beyond physical lust- especially if they don’t take they time to figure out whether or not they ACTUALLY like someone. These individuals could truly find good in anyone so it’s important that they don’t project their desire for commitment onto someone else. They can date or be friends with some bold and persistent personalities- even bossy. It’s important that these natives find someone who will give them some wiggle room to find themselves. These people find out who they are through trial and error in their relationships - it’s typical for these natives to have “failed relationships” that lead them to find out what they definitely don’t like- which leads them to their ultimate truth.
✶ Aries in 8th: This gives the native a hyper-vigilant quality to the native with Aries in 8th. In the past the native may have been made to feel like they didn’t belong, maybe they were bullied, or judged for something they couldn’t control. This may lead them to be on edge, secretive and even defensive about who they are authentically. They are very protective about who they actually are because they have been hurt before- many of these people are Virgo Risings, so it’s interesting to see that this may be one of the reasons why they are so hard on themselves and receive a judgmental sort of reputation.
✶ Aries in 9th: I love this placement so much honestly, because a lot of these natives have the philosophy that they can go after anything that they want. They have a particularly strong sense of self and actually may have a hard time understanding why other people don’t go after what they want or believe in themselves and their dreams. This is a super hard working placement IMO - it gives very much that “I want it, I got it!” vibe! It’s very possible at a time in their life that no one believed in these individuals so they just had to prove themselves to the world, and that’s so beautiful.
✶ Aries in 10th: Go getters in their career- they do best when they are their own boss- they definitely don’t do well with being told what to do because of their sensitive nature. However, they have a lot of creativity and art to give to the world. They need a career that is authentic to who they- a simple 9-5 WILL NOT cut it for these people. So if you’re an Aries 10th and you’re still trying to make your boring, loveless day job work- this is why. It is not in your genetic code to be running someone else’s business 😂 you are the business starter- not finisher! Quit diminishing your own light because I know y’all are hard on yourselves regardless. Pick your hard and go after it!
✶ Aries in 11th: Leaders of the pack, these natives love bringing their friends together and being absolutely crazy with their friends. They are naturally socialites and feel their best when they are interacting in their community and collaborating with like minds. These people live for their down time, special niche hobbies and interests. They work hard to play hard. They may also have some pretty strong humanitarian values they stick by, these natives have no problem with telling people their opinion on any given situation and they really don’t care what you have to say about it 😆
✶ Aries in 12th: With Aries in the house of isolation, hidden endings, mental health, dreams and subconscious awareness- this can make a native who suppresses their anger deeply and keeps a lot of their authentic reactions to themselves. They may feel more comfortable expressing this rage internally or when they know nobody else is around. They may be completely out of touch with their anger and impulses. They could have to isolate before taking action towards their authentic desires or dreams. Dreams can be violent and they may have intense nightmares. These natives can work out their best alone- although they usually like to workout with someone, this keeps them from pushing themselves for fear of being ugly or vulnerable. They don’t like to show their struggle to others, complain or their authentic side.
Happy Aries Season Everyone! I hope you are all safe and navigating eclipse season /mercury retrograde with ease. I am making a series out of the signs in the houses. I hope y’all are enjoying my content! Love you and thank you so much for reading my content and giving me feedback. This is such a sacred study to me. It is my life.
~Kya
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Let Me Love You Like A Woman
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.
a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey
******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT
warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.
And unknown places scare you.
There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.
You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.
You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.
It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.
She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.
“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.
You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.
Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.
That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.
She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.
As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”
Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”
You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.
“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.
“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.
Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.
“We have a mission for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”
The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.
Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.
“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.
Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.
“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”
Chiron presses his lips together.
“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.
“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”
Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.
Clarisse looks at you.
“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”
—-
“Y/N.”
You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.
You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.
Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.
But, Chiron needed to like you too.
You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.
It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.
She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.
She smiles.
“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”
“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.
If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.
And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.
Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.
“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”
Her face hardens.
“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”
You rip your hand away from her grip.
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”
“You’re crazy!”
—-
You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.
She looks up from her book and laughs.
“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.
“Mission,” you groan.
She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”
“With Clarisse.”
She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.
As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.
She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.
“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
You put your lips right up to her ear.
“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”
“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”
“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”
“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”
“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”
She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.
She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.
You put your hand on her face.
“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”
What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?
You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.
Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.
And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.
She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.
She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.
You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.
She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.
You look into Marley’s eyes now.
“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”
Marley kisses your cheek.
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”
“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.
Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.
You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.
—-
The bus ride is boring.
Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.
But you’re bored.
You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.
It’s only been two months.
As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.
You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.
You miss her.
“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.
“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”
Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”
“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”
“What?”
Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.
“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”
“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”
She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.
She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.
But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.
“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.
—-
You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.
Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.
You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.
“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”
You realize your head is on her shoulder.
You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.
“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.
You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.
She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.
She’s right up in your ear.
“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”
The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.
You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.
“I’d kill it.”
You both know you probably couldn’t.
She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”
Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.
She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.
She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.
“Hm, mine.”
You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.
You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?
It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.
You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”
Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.
—-
You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.
“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.
You can want her, here, where no one will know.
You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.
The station is oddly busy.
You have this horribly uneasy feeling.
You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.
She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.
You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.
But you trust yourself.
“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.
She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.
She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”
“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.
Why is she so fucking confusing?
As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?
She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.
You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.
“Clarisse.”
She seems to see it too.
“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.
She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”
When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.
You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.
Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.
The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.
You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.
It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.
That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.
The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.
Something slams against the door.
You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.
“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.
The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.
It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.
“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.
“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.
Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.
You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”
It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.
The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-
Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.
It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.
It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.
You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.
She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-
You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.
No one would know.
Her spear falls to the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.
No one would know.
“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”
“No problem,” she says.
No one would know.
“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.
“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.
It’s so simple.
You both can get what you want from this trip.
“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”
“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.
You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.
You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.
You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.
No one else will ever come close.
“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”
She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.
—-
The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.
Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.
How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?
You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.
She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
—-
The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.
You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.
When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.
“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.
You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.
“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.
—-
The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.
“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.
“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.
Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.
Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.
You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.
“On your left!”
Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.
Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.
She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.
“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.
“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.
“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”
Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.
Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.
“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”
“Yeah, okay.”
—-
Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.
“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.
You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”
She stares at you for a moment.
“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.
Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.
Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.
“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.
It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.
“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”
She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.
“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.
“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.
She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.
“What are you thinking of getting?”
She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”
You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”
She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.
“What was that?”
She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.
You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.
Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.
“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”
You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.
You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.
“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.
“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”
“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”
“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”
The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.
“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”
“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”
You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.
You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.
“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.
—-
“Clarisse.”
She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.
“Clarisse,” you repeat.
She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.
“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”
“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.
—-
Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.
You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.
You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.
You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.
You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.
It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.
You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”
She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.
“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.
“Don’t be mean.”
You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.
“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.
You whip around and point your finger at her.
“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”
Her smile falls.
“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”
Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.
—-
When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.
You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.
“Y/N.”
You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.
“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”
You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.
Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.
“A toy?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.
“I’m sorry.”
Your breathe hitches.
“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”
She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.
“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”
It’s silent for a moment.
“I want you to let me love you.”
She lets go of your hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”
“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.
“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”
You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”
“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”
You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.
But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.
She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.
Your fingers dig into her back.
“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.
—-
“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.
Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.
You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.
Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.
It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.
You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.
Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.
You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.
He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.
“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.
Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”
Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.
Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.
Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.
“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.
—-
marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.
clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟
—-
clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO
—-
honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n
another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish
@sincerely-silk @lacytalks
—-
pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.
For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.
So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.
Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!
The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.
But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.
Possible fic ideas involving this setup:
-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.
-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.
-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.
#svsss#bingqiu#bingyuan#scum villain#scum villain's self saving system#airplane seeing a horribly contrived plot device that makes little sense and exists only to facilitate fanservice: game recognizes game
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This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!
Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.
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Hope you have a great day! 🫶
updated on: 19/5
HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]
HEADCANONS
jealous!harry headcanons
boyfriend!harry headcanons
boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)
dad's best friend!harry headcanons
mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons
harry in love
grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)
husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)
secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)
《《 SERIES》》
Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader)
[COMPLETE SERIES]
In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)
in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change
part 1
A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)
In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?
a misfortune - part 1
windfall - part 2
melancholia - part 3
Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)
In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her
Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4
Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.
part 1 part 2 part 3
《LONG ONE SHOTS》
An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)
in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]
Just the two of us -vday check in
Serendipity*
harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]
Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2
harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]
Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)
y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]
Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)
harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]
《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》
SMUT
hot n' hard*
you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.
thigh riding*
you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well
don't stop
riding harry with your hands tied behind your back
breeding kink-blurb*
harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own
cupidity*
"don't make me take you home and punish you"
his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)
harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on
temporary fix*
in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))
three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)
in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences
curves*
a plus-size!y/n fic
good girl*
straight up filth, sex w/ harry
euphoria*
soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock
near the fireplace*
sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner
a new year, a new beginning*
new years with harry's family, followed by some love making
FLUFF
drunk harry
in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie
drunk y/n
in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry
addicted
about Harry’s addiction of kissing you
vexed
in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate
tranquility
inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean
here for you
a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!
baby
boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.
cuddles
ft. harry being cuddly and clingy
late-night serenades
you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting
breakfast in bed
in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten
hold on to me
(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.
a christmas with harry
your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends
dance with me
in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance
thanksgiving
coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you
ANGST
trepidation
in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.
insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)
in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk
waiting * for you(part 2)
a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love
disconnected*
first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities
requests are open!!!
(*-> smut)
blurb night concepts
21/4
divider and header by @/saradika
#harry#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x you#harry styles angst#harrystyles#harry edward styles#harry fic#harry fluff#harry angst#harry styles au#harry styles blurb#harry styles masterlist#harry masterlist#harry styles concept#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fluff#harry x reader#harry x y/n#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x oc
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A Bride in the Eyes of Some
Tywin Lannister X Reader Fic 🦁
-
(nsfw!)
“The Lady (Y/N) Lannister”, a title that ran through your mind and rang in your ears as you heard it.
You felt a certain disdain run down your spine that day, a rattle in your soul like no other. The announcement was a shocking one to you, remembering the day you were declared as the newest woman to Tywin Lannister. You remembered the wedding, how he didn’t share more than the hardest of pecks on your cheek as the Septon declared you man and wife. You remember the silence, the groaning and worn down creaking of the bed of your wedding night. You forced yourself to like it, you forced yourself to muster out pseudo-moans as Lannister-bred seed poured into you. You forced yourself to embrace your life as a vessel for blonde-haired children, with eyes as green as emeralds with a stiff lip. He’d never love you like he loved Joanna, you would never replace the whole in his heart she left behind. You would never be his love, you’d never be her. Or so, you thought.
Over time, you had learned to navigate the Red Keep, you learned to navigate the people that resided there. And you especially learned to navigate your lord husband, of Tywin. At times you didn’t have much to go off of, a grunt or a mumble underneath his breath damning something to the Seven Hells. His cunning mind and how it worked its’ way around the realms of politicking and pursuits of power. It intimidated you, it made you question yourself and your intelligence. Which you knew for sure, was a purposeful act. You needed to be on his time, you needed his mind, or he’d cast you away as useless. You learned to keep your distance at times, the Great Lion a man you didn’t dare to want to upset. You kept your interactions to a tee, never wanting to overbear him with what he viewed as “imperfections”. He only needed you when he called you, whether it be an execution of such schemes, or to warm his bed. He didn’t love to embrace your flesh, you imagine he thought of Joanna as he rocked you against the sheets. But you were wrong in that behalf, at least, as he grew used to you.
To most of Westeros, and even his own flesh and blood, Tywin was a lonely, bitter soul that threw back at the world what it gave to him; ten times as harsher. A cold, calculating man that cared for the benefit of him and him alone. But, he remained gentle with you, becoming more than a means of his lust. He was as delicate as he could be, being the Great Lion of The Rock. A softer stare in your direction rather than the cold, brutish one he darted to his enemies, or even the politest of terms when he speaks of you. You could listen to the words “lady-wife” roll off of his tongue all day and into the darkest of nights. He learned to tolerate your differentiating antics over time, finding them rather comical as he grew to know you more. How you interacted with servants among the Rock, to how passionate you grew about something you were determined for. You watched as a connection blossomed between you two, no longer the glacial silence that you both slept through, begging for one of you to find the courage to speak.
He would watch you as you read in bed with him, occasionally making a few notes and sneers about your posture. He would poke at the Old Valaryian books you insisted to put your nose in, laughing at your naïveté of the past. You were on guard at first, ready to bite back at whatever you felt was an insult until you realized it. He was talking to you, he was jeering with you. He was loving you. What stared off as the burden of your existence, the dread you wished to hide from as you laid next to him, become passionate. You were making love to Lord Tywin Lannister. No longer hid pathetic tears you held back, became moaning, a desperation for flesh you shared.
You daydreamed of how he rocked your hips atop of him, his grunting and slight-growling. He never said much during the act of fervoring your cunt onto him, but he didn’t need to. You would have his children, you would make his heirs, hopefully to turn out better than the three he was given. He was strong enough to place you how he saw fit, whether it be upon your knees, lying on your back and holding onto your ankles, or below him. He wanted you to worship him, every inch and fold of his skin he gave to you. At times, he’d whap you across the bottom, leaving warm spots from where his hands struck. At other times, he would have you on your knees, pulling you by the shoulder back to the gracious inches he gave to you. Tywin’s hands were some of the most dangerous pair within Westeros, hands you were not exempt from in the bed. And he would fuck you, until he grew tired, or had had you well-filled with enough loads of his seed to give him an entire line of Lannisters.
As his seed would pool out of you when you turned over to find a smidgen of rest, you would feel him. A singular hand wrapped around you, his head not too far from your shoulder. It was no longer the political prison you so desperately wanted to escape, it was love. Love of the highest points, love that stretched from The Rock to Dorne. A love that could never be taken away from you. A love that would be seen and heard among the Gods and men, new and old. And a love, you would never want out of.
#game of thrones#got#asoiaf#tywin x reader#tywin lannister#tywin lannister x reader#game of thrones fanfiction#got x reader#house lannister#cersei lannister#jaime lannister#casterly rock
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I See Red (Part 2)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader
Read part 1 here
Summary: A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost?
Warnings: allusions to cheating, manhandling (I mean, there’s just so much man to handle…oh and also he throws reader over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes), angst, fluff, fluff, fluff, illusions to smut at the end but nothing specific (womp womp I knoooow)
A/N: The happy ending Simon deserves after such a frightful misunderstanding. Poor bb is having such a rough day :(
Simon finds you pacing your room, footsteps leaving a veritable trail as you strut from end to end in the confined space.
One of the benefits to being a high-ranking member on an elite task force? You get your own room. It’s not much, barely enough room for a simple cot and a few tactical furniture pieces for storage, but it’s private. And right now, you’re quite thankful for the privacy, not wanting all of your business to be aired out in front of the whole squad.
“How could you, Simon?” Your hurt is palpable, and Simon’s heart constricts at the sound. He never wanted to be the reason for your pain.
“Listen, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Simon starts before you interrupt him.
“No??” You scoff. “So she wasn’t kissing you? She didn’t have your mask up? She hasn’t been flirting with you nonstop over the last two fucking weeks then?” You rattled off each allegation, your volume increasing with every accusation you spit at him.
Despite your best attempts to prevent it, you feel the tell-tale prickling sensation of tears forming in your eyes. You will them to stay put. The last thing you want is to look even more pitiful and pathetic than you already feel.
Simon’s chest aches as he sees the tears glisten in your eyes, a culmination of your hurt. He pulls his mask off over his head, hoping you can see the sincerity in his face.
“It wasn’t like that,” he tries to explain. “She kissed me. I would never do that you, sweetheart.”
“So I’m supposed to believe that you don’t care about gorgeous, voluptuous women with beautiful red hair who fawn over your every move?” Your gaze hardens as you hurl the accusation at his feet.
Simon is at a loss or words. He hadn’t given Bex a second thought once she showed up. Hadn’t thought anything more than that she must be good at her job for Price to have brought her on board.
The sea of confusion threatens to overwhelm Simon as he struggles to keep his head above water. Throw him on a high stakes mission anytime—hell, throw him directly into enemy combat over this. His head is spinning. How did all of this happen? First, the kiss from hell that came out of nowhere, then this wave of jealousy from you. Simon makes the connection as soon as the thoughts flow through his mind. This has to have been the root of your foul mood over the last two weeks, the reason behind your snarky comments and bitter conversations.
Misinterpreting his stunned silence, you let out a bitter laugh. “I thought so. You know what? Fuck this. I don’t need this. Just…” you inhale sharply. “Just go back to her.”
A lead weight drops into Simon’s stomach. “No.” The word is barely more than a whisper. He feels like the floor is being yanked out from under him. His world is spinning. No. He thinks to himself. Not you. He can’t lose you.
He closes the space between you in two strides, hands curling around your wrists in desperation, eyes pleading. “Listen. To. Me.” His staccato words are accentuated with his firm, but gentle, grip. “Please.”
You avoid his eyes, knowing those deep chocolate orbs would have you folding in an instant.
“No,” you spit out. “I don’t want to hear it.”
You tug yourself free from his grasp and turn to the door, ripping it open and stepping into the cold air.
Like hell was Ghost going to let you walk away from this.
You make it all of five steps from the door in the time it takes Ghost to come to his senses and high tail it after you. Without another thought, he reaches forward and grabs both your legs right out from under you, hoisting you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Ghost!” You shriek, unable to hold back your shock. A laugh bubbles up from inside you at the pure absurdity of the movement. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Making you fucking listen for once in your life,” Ghost grunts as he hauls you back into the room, tossing you onto your bed.
The mattress sinks beneath his weight as he sits next to you, his face taking on a serious expression. He reaches for your hands, his own mammoth hands swallowing yours whole. The motion sobers you, all humor from the previous moments erased.
“Ya know I’m not one for speeches, but I’ve got something important to say. And you’re going to bloody listen, got it?”
He takes your silence as approval to keep going.
“I swear to you, I didn’t kiss her, alright? She pulled up my mask and kissed me before I could even register what was happening. You have to believe me—I would never do that to you. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you like that.” He swallows hard as it dawns on him just how close he came to that being his reality. He fears he almost lost you for good.
“And to answer your question from earlier, no. I’ve never thought of her like that. Not once. I haven’t thought of anyone else like that. Not since I first saw you all those years ago. You remember?”
You shake your head. “Of course not, Simon. It was like three years ago.”
“Not to me. To me, it feels like it was yesterday. When I saw you hop off that helo, I knew I was done in. Fucking hell, I said. From the moment I saw your face, I was a goner.”
His hands drop your own as he reaches up to cup your face. You say nothing, but you don’t pull away from him either. And for Ghost, that’s enough.
“You mean everything to me. Everything. I trust you with my life on the battle field. I trust you with my innermost thoughts and feelings in here, when it’s just you and me. Can’t you trust me in the same way?”
A feeling of shame washes over you and you lower your gaze. The realization dawns on you, you hadn’t even given him a chance to explain. Remorse pools in your gut.
“How could I possibly be thinking of another woman, when I spent every waking minute of my day thinking about you, thinking about us, thinking about our future together?”
At that, your eyes glance up to meet his. “A future?”
The corner of Simon’s mouth tugs upwards in a coy smile. “Well, yeah. If that’s the kind of thing you want.”
You sigh deeply, feeling every last ounce of fight drain from your body.
“I’m so sorry, Si,” you whisper in the space between your bodies. “I should have given you a chance to explain.”
Simon doesn’t have words to explain the relief that floods his body as you lean forward, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him.
“S’okay,” he mutters. “If I had walked in on some bloke kissing you, I’d be snapping his neck before asking a single question from you.”
At that, you chuckle against his broad chest. “Well, that makes me feel better about my reaction then.” You pull back only slightly to offer him a soft smile. “I really am sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Simon presses his lips to your temple and savors the moment before adding, “Besides, I like seeing your jealous side. It’s kinda hot.”
“Oh yeah?” You tease, sitting up and popping one leg over Simon’s lap to straddle him. “How hot?”
“Fucking hell woman,” Simon groans with a playful roll of his eyes. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.”
“S’that so?” You shamelessly plant open mouthed kisses along his chiseled jaw, down his exposed throat. With fluid, practiced movements, you slide off the bed and come to your knees in front of him. “Least you’ll die a happy man,” you smirk before unbuttoning his trousers and showing Simon just how well and truly sorry you are.
Epilogue(ish):
Bex is on the first flight out the next day. The laptop was decrypted and the short-term mission accomplished, so there’s really no reason for her to stay any longer. And, of course, there’s the lingering threat of potentially losing some beloved limbs at the hands of one furious Ghost. On top of that, Bex isn’t entirely positive that you won’t come seek your own type of revenge for touching what clearly, definitively belongs to you. And she quite likes the idea of staying alive.
Masterlist ✧ Ask Box
Requested tags for Part 2: @infpt-zylith @nobilitando @lazystorycollector @141trash @thychuvaluswife @bakugohoex@kiryoutann @persephone-kore-law @whos-fran
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley imagine#cod ghost#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley
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ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS - W. SMITH
paring: Will Smith x reader
word count: 3.4k
requested? no
warnings: use of y/n. slight smut? ig.
*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*
The echo of blades slicing through the ice reverberated throughout the rink, mingling with the sharp clatter of pucks against sticks. Boston College's hockey arena was a hub of activity, with the men's and women's teams often sharing practice times. Will Smith, the star forward of the men's team, was in the midst of a grueling drill, his focus unwavering as he maneuvered the puck with skillful precision.
On the other side of the rink, Y/N Leonard was equally absorbed in her practice. As the captain of the women's team, she had a reputation to uphold. Her brother, Ryan Leonard, was a defenseman on the men's team and one of Will's closest friends. Despite their close connection, Y/N and Will's relationship was anything but friendly.
Their rivalry was legendary, a bitter clash of egos and competitive spirits that had brewed over the years. It was an open secret that they couldn't stand each other, always bickering and challenging each other on and off the ice. But beneath the surface of their animosity lay a secret even their closest friends didn't suspect—they were enemies with benefits.
--- --- ---
Their first encounter had been a clash of wills at a party during their freshman year. The backyard of one of the off-campus houses had been transformed into a mini-rink for the night, complete with floodlights and a rowdy audience. Y/N, confident and fierce, had seen Will's cocky grin as he dominated the makeshift rink. Fueled by competitive spirit and maybe a bit too much beer, she had skated up to him and issued a challenge.
"One-on-one, Smith. Unless you're scared to lose to a girl."
Will had laughed, a sound that grated on Y/N's nerves. "You're on, Leonard. Let's see what you've got."
The stakes were high—bragging rights for the rest of the year. The game had been intense, filled with taunts and near-miss goals, ending in a narrow victory for Will. Y/N had been livid, her competitive nature unable to accept defeat gracefully. Their enmity was sealed that night, a rivalry born from mutual respect and a burning desire to prove themselves.
But as the months passed, their rivalry took an unexpected turn. Their heated arguments would often end in moments of undeniable chemistry, and one fateful night after a particularly intense game, their anger had erupted into something else entirely.
--- --- ---
The game against Northeastern had been brutal, leaving both teams exhausted and irritable. The men's and women's teams had played back-to-back games, each fiercely contested and ending in narrow victories. The adrenaline was still pumping through Y/N's veins as she stormed into the locker room, replaying every missed opportunity and close call in her mind.
"Nice game, Leonard," Will's voice echoed through the empty hall, dripping with sarcasm as he followed her inside.
Y/N spun around, her eyes blazing. "What do you want, Smith? Here to gloat?"
Will smirked, stepping closer. "Just thought I'd congratulate you on not choking under pressure. For once."
The tension between them crackled like static electricity. Y/N's anger flared, her fists clenching at her sides. "You're such an asshole."
"Better than being a sore loser," Will shot back, his voice low and dangerous.
The words hung in the air, their breaths coming in short, heated bursts. Without thinking, Y/N closed the distance between them, her anger morphing into something else entirely. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, all the pent-up frustration and desire boiled over.
Y/N grabbed Will's jersey, yanking him down to her level. Their lips crashed together, the kiss fierce and demanding. Will responded instantly, his hands gripping her waist as he backed her against the lockers. The cold metal pressed into her back, a stark contrast to the heat of their kiss.
It was a clash of wills, their tongues battling for dominance as they gave in to the primal urge that had been simmering beneath the surface for months. Will's hands roamed over Y/N's body, his touch igniting a fire within her that she couldn't deny. She tugged at his jersey, needing to feel his skin against hers.
They broke apart briefly, gasping for air. Y/N's eyes were wild, her lips swollen from the intensity of their kiss. "This doesn't mean anything," she panted, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and defiance.
"Right," Will agreed, his voice equally breathless. "Just blowing off steam."
Their mouths collided again, more urgent this time. Y/N's hands found the hem of Will's jersey, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Her fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, savoring the feel of his muscles tensing under her touch.
Will's hands were equally busy, sliding under her jersey and up her back, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them almost unbearable. Y/N's head spun with the intensity of their connection, every nerve ending on fire.
Somehow, they managed to shed the rest of their clothes, their desire too overwhelming to care about the cold or the hard floor beneath them. Will's hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of her skin as if memorizing it. Y/N responded in kind, her nails digging into his back, leaving marks in their wake.
When Will finally entered her, it was like a dam breaking. The sensation was almost too much, a mix of pleasure and pain that left her gasping. They moved together in a frantic rhythm, their bodies finding a natural sync despite their previous animosity.
It was raw, intense, and utterly consuming. Y/N had never felt anything like it, every touch, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She clung to Will, her fingers tangled in his hair, as they reached the peak together.
In the aftermath, they lay tangled on the cold floor, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the locker room. Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—desire, confusion, and a lingering sense of defiance.
Will broke the silence first, his voice surprisingly gentle. "This changes nothing, you know."
Y/N nodded, her resolve hardening. "I know. We're still enemies."
"Right," he agreed, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes as he looked at her.
As they dressed in silence, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. They had crossed a line, one that could never be uncrossed.
--- --- ---
Sneaking around had become second nature to them. They'd find isolated corners of the rink or meet in the early hours of the morning when the campus was quiet. Despite their constant bickering, they couldn't deny the magnetic pull between them.
Their secret meetings were a mix of passion and frustration, each encounter leaving them more confused and conflicted. They were enemies, rivals on and off the ice, but in those stolen moments, they were something else entirely.
One night, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/N received a text from Will.
Will: Meet me at the old equipment room. Midnight.
Y/N's heart raced. She knew she should ignore him, and should put an end to this dangerous game they were playing. But something about Will drew her in, and she found herself unable to resist.
The old equipment room was tucked away in a forgotten corner of the arena. It was their sanctuary, a place where they could be together without prying eyes. Y/N slipped inside, her breath visible in the cold air. Will was already there, leaning against a stack of crates.
"You took your time," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Had to make sure no one followed me," Y/N retorted, closing the door behind her.
Will's eyes softened as he approached her. "You know, we don't have to keep doing this."
Y/N sighed, her resolve wavering. "I know. But... I can't stay away."
"Neither can I," Will admitted, pulling her into his arms.
Their kisses were desperate, fueled by the fear of being discovered and the intensity of their hidden emotions.
--- --- ---
As the season progressed, tensions on and off the ice began to mount. Boston College was preparing for a series of critical games that would determine their standings in the league. The pressure was immense, and both the men's and women's teams were feeling the strain.
Y/N and Will's clandestine relationship became increasingly difficult to maintain. The late-night rendezvous and stolen glances were no longer enough. Their teammates began to notice the tension between them, though no one suspected the true nature of their interactions.
One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Ryan confronted Y/N. "You've been acting weird lately. Is everything okay?"
Y/N hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Just stressed about the games. It's nothing."
Ryan frowned, not entirely convinced. "If you say so. Just remember, you can talk to me about anything."
Y/N forced a smile. "Thanks, Ry."
Later that night, Y/N received a text from Will.
Will: We need to talk. Meet me at the equipment room.
As Y/N made her way down the dimly lit hallways of the arena, her nerves grew. She wasn't sure why she felt so anxious. This was supposed to be just another one of their secret meetings, another chance to lose themselves in the intensity of their connection. But something about Will's message had set her on edge.
She pushed open the door to the old equipment room, her breath hitching as she saw Will standing there, his face shadowed by the dim light. His expression was serious, almost pained, and her heart sank.
"We need to talk," he said, his voice heavy with emotion.
Y/N took a tentative step closer, her eyes searching his. "What is it, Will? What's wrong?"
Will took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist. "We need to end this, Y/N. We can't keep doing this."
The words hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her reeling. "What are you talking about? Why?"
Will ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "This... whatever this is, it's messing with our heads. We can't focus on the game, and it's only going to get worse. We need to stop seeing each other. For good."
Y/N felt a surge of confusion and anger. "So that's it? You're just going to walk away?"
"It's not that simple," Will said, his voice strained. "I care about you, Y/N. But this is too much. We're hurting ourselves and our teams. We have to think about what's best for everyone."
Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, her mind racing. "You think ending things will make everything better? What about us?"
Will's expression softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "There is no 'us,' Y/N. We're enemies, remember? We can't pretend this is something it's not."
Y/N's anger flared, her heart aching with a mix of hurt and betrayal. "You think I don't know that? But you can't just turn off your feelings like a switch, Will. This isn't just about the game."
"I know," Will whispered, his voice breaking. "But it's the only way."
They stood there in silence, the weight of his words hanging between them. Y/N's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, each one more confusing than the last. She wanted to scream, to fight, to make him see that what they had was real. But the look in his eyes told her that he had already made up his mind.
"Fine," she said, her voice trembling. "If that's what you want."
Will nodded, his expression resigned. "It's for the best."
Without another word, Y/N turned and walked away, her heart heavy with the weight of their decision. She didn't look back, couldn't bear to see the finality in his eyes.
--- --- ---
The days that followed were a painful blur for Y/N. Every time she and Will saw each other, the air between them was thick with unresolved tension. Their once heated banter was replaced by uncomfortable silence and awkward glances. It was clear to everyone around them that something was off.
During practice, Y/N could feel the weight of her teammates' curious eyes on her. They whispered among themselves, speculating about the sudden change in her demeanor. Her game was affected too—her usual precision and focus were marred by hesitation and distraction.
At one point, her coach pulled her aside. "Y/N, your head's not in the game. What's going on?"
"It's nothing, Coach," she lied, forcing a smile. "Just... personal stuff."
The coach gave her a knowing look but didn't press further. "Get it together, Leonard. We need you at your best."
Ryan, however, was not so easily deterred. He had noticed the tension between Y/N and Will and couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had happened. After a particularly tense practice, he cornered her in the locker room.
"Y/N, what's going on with you and Will?" Ryan asked, his voice low but insistent. "You two have been acting weird for days."
Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn't keep lying to him. "Ryan, it's complicated. Can we talk about it later?"
"No," Ryan said firmly. "We talk about it now. You're my sister, and I need to know what's going on."
Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears. "Will and I... we were seeing each other. But it's over now."
Ryan's eyes widened in surprise. "You and Will? Why didn't you tell me?"
"We didn't want anyone to know," Y/N admitted. "It was complicated, and we thought we could handle it. But it all fell apart."
Ryan's expression softened, his anger melting into concern. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I had no idea. Are you okay?"
"No," Y/N said, her voice breaking. "I'm not okay. It's been really hard."
Ryan pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her protectively. "I'm here for you, Y/N. We'll get through this together."
--- --- ---
The tension between Ryan and Will simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over with each passing day. Ryan couldn't shake the anger that burned inside him, the betrayal he felt on behalf of his little sister.
After practice one evening, Ryan approached Will, his expression dark and stormy.
"We need to talk," Ryan said, his voice low but charged with emotion.
Will tensed, bracing himself for the confrontation he had been dreading. He knew he had hurt Y/N, but facing her brother's wrath was a whole new level of guilt.
"Look, Ryan, I know you're angry," Will began, his voice strained. "But you have to understand..."
"Understand what, Will?" Ryan interrupted, his voice rising with frustration. "That you broke my sister's heart?"
Will winced at the accusation, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. "I never meant to hurt her, Ryan. I care about her more than anything."
"Then why did you end things?" Ryan demanded, his eyes flashing with anger. "If you care about her, why did you walk away?"
Will struggled to find the right words, his guilt and remorse threatening to choke him. "It's complicated, Ryan. We were hurting each other, and I thought it was for the best."
"For the best?" Ryan scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think breaking her heart was for the best?"
Will shook his head, his own frustration mounting. "I don't know, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting her."
"Protecting her?" Ryan repeated, his incredulity turning to rage. "From what, exactly? From you?"
The accusation hit Will like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling with guilt and shame. He had thought he was doing what was best for Y/N, but now he saw the pain he had caused, the damage he had inflicted on the woman he cared about more than anything.
"I screwed up, okay?" Will admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I never should have let things get this far. I never should have hurt her."
Ryan's anger softened, replaced by a flicker of sympathy. "You hurt her, Will. But you can still fix it. You can still make things right."
Will nodded, determination burning in his eyes. "I will. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right with Y/N."
Ryan studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You better, Will.”
With that, Ryan turned and walked away, leaving Will alone with his thoughts and his guilt.
--- --- ---
After yet another practice filled with tense interactions and awkward silences, Will knew he couldn't continue to avoid confronting Y/N. He needed to talk to her, to try to make things right between them, even if it meant facing her anger head-on.
As the rest of the team filed out of the locker room, Will lingered behind, waiting for the opportune moment to approach Y/N. When the room finally emptied, he took a deep breath and approached her, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Y/N, can we talk?" Will asked, his voice tentative.
Y/N's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with anger. "I don't have anything to say to you, Will."
Will swallowed nervously, steeling himself for the confrontation that was about to unfold. "Please, just hear me out. I know I messed up, but I want to make things right."
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, her expression skeptical. "And how do you plan on doing that?"
Will took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "By talking. By listening. By being honest with each other."
Y/N scoffed, her anger boiling over. "Honest? Like you were honest with me when you ended things out of nowhere?"
Will winced at the accusation, the guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. "I know I hurt you, Y/N. I never meant to. I was just... scared. Scared of what we were becoming, of how much I cared about you."
Y/N's anger softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of hurt. "So you decided to end things without even talking to me about it?"
"I know it was a mistake," Will admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I was wrong to push you away like that. I should have talked to you, tried to work through our issues together."
Y/N's walls began to crumble, her anger giving way to vulnerability. "I miss you, Will. I miss us."
Will reached out tentatively, his hand brushing against hers. "I miss you too, Y/N. More than you'll ever know."
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of their emotions hanging between them like a heavy fog. Then, slowly, hesitantly, Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Will and burying her face in his chest.
"I'm sorry," Will whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."
Y/N nodded, her own tears mingling with his. "I forgive you, Will. But we have a lot of work to do if we're going to make this right."
Will nodded, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "I know. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
--- --- ---
A few months had passed, and the day had finally arrived—the culmination of years of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice. As Will stood before the crowd gathered at the press conference, a sense of pride and accomplishment washed over him.
Surrounded by his teammates, coaches, and family, Will signed the three-year entry-level contract with the San Jose Sharks, officially beginning the next chapter of his hockey career.
But amidst the excitement and celebration, there was one person who stood out above all others—Y/N.
She stood by Will's side throughout the entire press conference, her hand clasped tightly in his, her eyes filled with pride and love.
As Will put pen to paper, signing his name on the dotted line, Y/N couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion. She had watched him overcome countless obstacles and setbacks, always pushing himself to be the best player he could be.
And now, as he embarked on this new journey with the San Jose Sharks, she knew that she would be there every step of the way, cheering him on from the sidelines, supporting him through the highs and lows of professional hockey.
As the cameras flashed and the reporters clamored for interviews, Y/N squeezed Will's hand, a silent promise passing between them. No matter where this new chapter took them, they would face it together, hand in hand, hearts intertwined.
this is all over the place oh well.
#will smith hockey#will smith#hockey imagine#boston college#hockey#nhl x reader#san jose sharks#sharks
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Thailand 🇹🇭
A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows
Full list here.
1. KinnPorsche
mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple
Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.
iQIYI
2. Bed Friend
friends with benefits; office setting; trauma
King and Uea work in the same office. After a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up between them, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?
Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube
3. The Sign
reincarnated lovers; fantasy; thai mythology; police
The story of the love between Phaya and Tharn who used to be mythological creatures Naga and Garuda in their past lives, and were forced apart. But fate intervened, and two men were reincarnated in new bodies. Now, they work together as partners in the Special Investigations Unit to uncover violent crimes and supernatural mysteries while their love is tested by mystical forces and past enemies.
YouTube
4. I Feel You Linger In The Air
period drama; time travel; bittersweet
Jom, an architect overseeing the renovation of a rundown villa, continuously dreams of a man he's never met. When a twist of fate transports Jom to Chiang Mai in the 1920s, he assumes the role of a servant to the affluent young master Yai, the mysterious man from his dreams.
GagaOOLala or YouTube
5. You're My Sky
sports; university setting; coming of age
Thorn, a young basketball player follows his senior Fah to university as a result of the promise they’d made — to become national basketball champions. However, to his dismay, he finds that Fah has already given up on basketball. --- Aai has to work in pairs throughout the semester with San, 1 year footballer; in order to receive a scholarship to study in Japan, Ai must be willing to do everything to get an A grade. --- Track running requires the compatibility of the team members to be very high. Vee, who became the new racquet 4, has to speed up training to fit in with the team as quickly as possible, especially with Dome, spending extra time together to train. Is love actually a major obstacle on the path of being an athlete?
Viki
6. Cutie Pie (+Cutie Pie 2 You, Naughty Babe)
arranged marriage; secret identity; crack
The sons of two companies, Lian and Kuea, have been engaged to each other since childhood. One decides he doesn't want the arranged marriage anymore while the other decides to win him back.
Cutie Pie: YouTube & Cutie Pie 2 You: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on YouTube & NB: uncut on IQIYI or cut on YouTube
7. Until We Meet Again
reincarnated lovers; forbidden love;university setting
Two boys who couldn't be together in one life find each other again in another.
+ Between Us
university setting; swimming club; trauma
A parallel story to Until We Meet Again. Win and Team get to know one another through the swimming club, and eventually develop a relationship. They grow their connection as Win helps Team deal with his childhood trauma.
UWMA: YouTube & Between Us: Special: YouTube & Between Us: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or paid YouTube or cut on YouTube
8. Step By Step
office setting; boss/employee; slowburn
Jeng is a marketing manager and son of the owner of the company. Pat is a new team member. Jeng develops a secret fondness for his new subordinate, but in this position, he has to be strict and picky with Pat.
Uncut 18+ on Viki or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube
9. GAP The Series
wlw; office setting; boss/employee; class difference
Long after Sam first came to Mon's rescue when they were kids, Sam is unambiguously Mon's idol. In order to be near Sam, Mon gets a job working under her. When they finally meet again at the office, Mon is surprised by Sam’s icy exterior, so different from the image she'd had of her. Mon and Sam aren't just different in demeanour; they stand apart in class and age.
YouTube
10. Lucky My Love
wlw; office setting
In the pursuit of love, Nabdao has been doing everything. She has got her fortune read. She's gone on a string of blind dates. Unfortunately, no one seems to be on the same page as her. She starts to think that perhaps her gorgeous and caring boss Pheem could be the one for her. Then Vela, her new team leader, comes into the picture and shakes things up with her observant and affectionate care.
YouTube
11. La Pluie
soulmate alternative universe
In an alternate universe where Thailand is perpetually rainy and soulmates exist, La Pluie traces the story of Saengtai, who suffers from sensorineural hearing loss every time it rains. The only voice he can hear then is that of his soulmate, but he is adamant about not giving said soulmate a chance due to having seen his parents’ (who are also soulmates) relationship deteriorate.
YouTube or iQIYI
12. I Told Sunset About You (+ Last Twilight in Phuket, I Promised You the Moon)
coming of age; childhood friends to lovers; high school setting
Two childhood best friends-turned-rivals meet again, awakening an old rivalry and old feelings. They now have to navigate their lives together and the growing attraction toward each other.
Viki (ITSAY) & YouTube (LTIP) & Viki (IPYTM)
13. Ghost Host, Ghost House
crush at first sight; ghosts; grief
Kevin's passion is the challenge of hunting ghosts. He returns to Thailand after 10 years to stay with his aunt's family, but he didn't know that he'd come to stay under the same roof as those hunted ghosts. There he meets Pluem, a young gardener working for his family and a spark ignites between them.
YouTube or GagaOOLala
14. Something In My Room
ghost/human; mystery; bittersweet
Looking to start a new life in a new house with his mother, Phat feels something uncanny in his room, which turns out to be the ghost of Phob. Phob wants Phat’s help in solving the mystery of his death before it’s too late.
I recommend watching the extended uncut version on KissKH or Dramacool, but you can also watch cut version on YouTube
15. Manner of Death
crime; mystery; dark
A forensic pathologist Bunn is threatened to identify a manner of one victim's death as suicide — something that is not true according to the autopsy performed. The prime suspect seems to be a man named Tan who denies all involvement. They team up together to find the real murderer.
WeTV
16. Triage
time loop; hospital setting; crime; mystery
As a resident in the emergency room, one should be indifferent when not saving a patient's life. But Tin got the chance to reverse a random patient's death for the second, third, and countless times. To help Tol and save his life.
AIS PLAY
17. Love Mechanics
cheating; university setting
A love story that starts one night in a club — between Mark, who is drunk and carrying the painful burden of his one-sided love, and the boy who he bumps into and mistakes as the object of his affection. They spend a night together and gradually Mark falls for Vee, although he knows Vee has a girlfriend. Will the love between them make it?
WeTV
18. Wedding Plan
wedding planner/groom; lavender marriage; wlw side couple
Nuea is a professional wedding planner. Sailom happens to be the perfect man for Nuea based on his visual considerations for a man. But the universe has an unimaginable sense of humor as Sailom and his fiance Yiwa turn out to be Nuea's new clients.
Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on Youtube & iQIYI (special episode)
19. Laws of Attraction
lawyers; crime
When working-class man Tinn's niece fails to receive justice for her untimely death, he encounters Charn, a cynical morally corrupt lawyer. As Tinn and Charn team up to delve deeper into the case, they form a close bond despite their ideological differences. The series explores Charn and Tinn’s fight for justice, even though they were on opposite sides of the fence at the beginning.
YouTube
20. Secret Crush On You
“nerd”/popular guy; queer friend group; university setting
Discover the secret of a nerdy young man, Toh, who fell in love with a popular third-year senior. Because his dream is so far from reach, observing is the only thing he could do. But what happens when one auspicious day the world devises an opportunity for Toh to make himself known to his crush Nuea?
YouTube
21. To Sir, With Love
period drama; family drama; rich man/lower class man
A powerful family suffering from internal power struggles is now facing an even greater secret threat, the oldest son and heir is gay.
YouTube
22. My Only 12%
best friends to lovers; slow burn
Cake and Seeiw, next-door neighbors and childhood best friends, navigate their feelings towards each other as they grow up.
YouTube
23. Show Me Love
wlw; beauty pageants
Meena moves to Bangkok to achieve her singing dreams. She chances across Cherine who asks Meena to join her in a beauty pageant. The girls' journey for the crown begins and a romance between them sparks.
YouTube
24. Pit Babe
omegaverse; alpha/alpha; car racing
Babe is the number one race car driver and an alpha with special abilities who only has sex with other alphas. Nerdy naive alpha Charlie approaches Babe to ask for his help to become a racer himself. Babe agrees to help Charlie realise his dream, but it will come with a price.
Uncut on iQIYI or cut on YouTube
---
You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to Thailand. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy! 🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️
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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s
Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 42.1k words | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak | oral (f receiving) | (semi) public sex | vaginal fingering
masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist
“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”
Oh—fuck.
a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍
Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke
Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.
If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?
It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.
“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”
The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”
The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.
“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.
“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”
Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.
“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.
The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.
“Is that everything, ma’am?”
Click
You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.
She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”
And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”
You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.
“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”
You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.
“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.
“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.
Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.
“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.
His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.
He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.
“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you’re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”
His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.
“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”
You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.
You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?
He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.
You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.
It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.
You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.
You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.
There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.
You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.
“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”
We
We
Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.
Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.
Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.
“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”
You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”
The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.
“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”
Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”
He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.
And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.
“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”
There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.
“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.
You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.
“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”
Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”
He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.
“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”
He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”
You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.
Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”
You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”
“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”
You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.
“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”
Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—
“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“
He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”
He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.
Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.
Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!
“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.
Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?
She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”
With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.
“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”
You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—
Know you’re fucked.
“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.
The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.
Two days pass in a blur.
You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.
We’ll get through it
You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.
He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.
When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.
“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.
“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”
You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.
Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”
The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”
You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.
“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”
By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.
You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.
Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.
On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.
“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.
It doesn’t happen for hours.
Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.
“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.
Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.
You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”
You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.
The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.
He’s here.
“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”
She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.
There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.
“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.
“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.
“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”
Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”
The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?
“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.
“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.
He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.
He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.
“You want to get out of here?”
Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.
You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.
One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.
Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.
He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He���d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”
In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.
And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.
“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.
You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.
When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.
His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”
His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.
The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.
He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.
“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”
Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”
You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.
He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—
“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”
You should have known.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel the last of us#archive of our own#joel tlou#cowboy joel miller#dbf!joel#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller story#joel miller angst#joel miller hurt/comfort#joel miller fluff#joel miller romance#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller au#joel miller age gap#joel miller x you#joel miller moodboard
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The Night We Met (Chapter One)
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Potter!Reader
Summary: Over the summer you connected with the boy who is quite literally your twin's mortal enemy. Things start to fall apart in the darkness of the autumn.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, everyone lives au, takes place in 6th year
A/N: Soooooooo, I'm back!! I'm so sorry for being away so long guys! This is the shortest chapter ever so I'm v sorry, I also didn't really know how to write Mattheo 100% as he is complete fanfiction! I hope you guys enjoy anyway and please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
Chapter One
Harry Potter was worried about his twin, she’d been so secretive recently, ever since the first week of summer. Harry knew they weren’t kids anymore but Y/N was his best friend and they used to tell each other everything. James and Sirius knew that something was up when Harry mooched into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” his godfather laughed as he drank his tea.
“Where’s, Y/N?” he directed the question at his dad, ignoring Sirius. James shrugged as he leaned back in the kitchen chair.
“She’s off playing Quidditch in the woods, you know how she gets when she wants to be alone.”
Harry nodded, he did know but he was still a bit miffed that she hadn’t asked him for a match, “she’s supposed to come with me to Ron’s for tea,” he muttered.
At that moment, Lily walked into the kitchen and kissed her son on the cheek, “well, she’ll be back by that time.”
Harry nodded, forcing a smile for his mum’s benefit, but he just knew that something was going on with her. And, he was worried about her.
You cursed beneath your breath as you all but ran home, you had nearly lost track of time, you had nearly forgotten that you were having tea at the Weasley’s tonight. As you walked through the front door Harry was coming down the stairs.
“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled and you felt your guilt begin to brew in your stomach, “have fun playing Quidditch?” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You could tell he was hurt but he’d never admit it, he’d never understand either and you hated doing this to him, “well, I would have asked you to join me but I know how busy you must be pining over Ginny Weasley.”
Harry scoffed as he pushed his glasses up his nose, “you’re my sister, and my best friend, I’m never too busy for you.”
You smiled, “thanks, Harry. I’m just gonna get ready and then we can go to Ron’s,” you traipsed upstairs without waiting for a reply. On the way to your room, you passed your dad, “why did you tell Harry that I was playing Quidditch?” you sighed.
James frowned, “what in Merlin’s name was I supposed to say, Y/N?” he continued when you shrugged, “you are your brother’s best friend and I know he’s yours but you need to tell him before he finds out for himself. Now, I don’t approve but you’re not a little kid anymore.”
“See you later, dad,” you sighed as you walked into your room to get ready.
As you and Harry were leaving the cottage and were walking up the path, Harry groaned out in dismay.
“What’s the matter?” you laughed but Harry didn’t reply or look at you, he kept staring ahead with a scowl on his face.
You followed your brother’s gaze and saw that Malfoy was passing by with his friend Mattheo Riddle, as soon as Malfoy saw Harry, his face lit up with malice, “alright, Scarhead?”
You glared over at Malfoy before glancing at Riddle who was smirking at you, you scowled at him, keeping your eyes on him long enough to see him raise his eyebrow, a smug look forming on his face. “C’mon, Harry just ignore them,” you glared at the Slytherin boys as you pulled Harry away, Riddles smug face in the back of your mind.
Dinner at the Weasley’s was always something to look forward to, Mrs Weasley’s cooking was amazing and you always had a laugh with the big family. However, this year it was different, it was almost awkward, you had to watch your brother try – and fail – to flirt with Ginny. Ron and Hermione were also starting to fall for each other, though they were the only ones who couldn’t see it. You had managed to keep your embarrassment in check until it was time to sit down for dinner.
“So, Y’N, dear,” Molly started, “are you in love yet?”
Ron snorted into his food as your eyes widened and you felt a flush creep up your neck, you shook your head as you looked up at Molly, “no, I’m not.”
“I think Y/N is trying to get onto the national Quidditch team with how much she’s been playing it this summer,” you forced a smile at your brother but said nothing more, and your love life wasn’t brought up again.
After dinner, you decided to leave early and without Harry, usually you and Harry would stay for as long as you could but the guilt in your stomach hadn’t settled yet. It made it virtually impossible for you to be around your friends when you felt like that. It was when you were getting ready for bed that the knock on your patio door came and startled you.
You sighed when you saw the handsome Slytherin boy standing out on your balcony, you padded over and opened the patio door, quickly ushering him inside.
“Mattheo,” you hissed, “what are you doing here?”
He smiled and cupped your cheek with a warm hand, “I wanted to see you before I head back home, I feel like I haven’t seen you as much recently.”
You scoffed and looked away from him, crossing your arms over your chest, “you literally saw me today.”
“For like an hour,” Mattheo sighed and kissed you softly. Your fingers delved into his thick curls as you briefly kissed him back before you pushed him away, “what’s the matter?” he asked, resting his forehead against yours.
“Nothing,” you shook your head, you couldn’t see how this relationship – if that was even what it was – would work at Hogwarts, it was too much sneaking around and you had to keep a lot more secrets at school than you did at home. Also, you didn’t have the heart to tell him your relationship had an expiry date. It really seemed like you were lying to everyone.
“Y/N,” Mattheo started, biting his lip, in that moment he looked so vulnerable as he stared at you with wide eyes, and you almost forgot who he was. Almost. “Can I stay here tonight? I don’t want to go back to Draco’s, you know he’ll be there.”
“Mattheo,” you sighed but he interrupted you before you could say anything further.
“Please, Y/N? I promise I’ll be gone before your parents wake up.”
You cupped his cheeks and fought back tears, “you have to go, everyone is in danger if you’re here.”
Mattheo looked like he’d been gut punched and he pulled away from you so quickly it was like you’d burned him, “right,” he hissed with a nod, “the scum can’t put the perfect Potter’s in danger.”
“I never said that!”
Mattheo sniffed as he wrenched open your patio door, “you didn’t have to. Goodnight, Y/N,” he climbed down your balcony and disappeared into the night.
“Goodbye, Mattheo,” you sighed as you watched him go.
The next morning was an early start and you almost immediately regretted promising that you would meet Ron and Hermione for an early lunch. You could barely keep your eyes open as you shuffled into the kitchen. You had been awake for most of the night half wishing that you had let Mattheo stay. You yawned as you spread butter onto your toast.
“You’re quiet this morning, Y/N,” James glanced at you from the other end of the table.
Harry snickered as he walked into the kitchen, “you say that like it’s a bad thing, dad.”
You scowled at your twin, “fuck you, Potter.”
“Language, Y/N!” Lily gasped but you couldn’t miss the laughter in her voice. Your mum narrowed her green eyes at you, “did you have a friend over last night? I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone.”
You shook your head, refusing to look at your dad, though you could feel him looking at you from where he sat, “I didn’t have anyone over last night, mum,” you mumbled. Lily nodded but continued to regard you suspiciously.
In no time at all, you were meeting Ron and Hermione outside of the ice cream parlour in the blazing sun.
“Hello again,” Hermione laughed as she pulled you into a hug, you grinned as you hugged her back and over her shoulder you waved at Ron.
“Sorry about my mum last night, that must have been embarrassing,” Ron almost winced as you laughed and shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it!” you sat at the table and smiled over at Hermione, “thanks for getting my fave,” you blew her a kiss as you a sip from your iced Butterbeer.
“Ugh, incoming,” Hermione rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her own drink, you could tell by the venom in her voice that it was Malfoy and his band of Slytherins. You didn’t even turn to look until Ron spoke up.
“Bloody hell, look at Riddle’s face.”
You glanced over your shoulder and was filled with horror by what you saw, Mattheo had been badly beaten, he had a black eye and a huge gash in his lip, almost like it had been split open. He looked at you with wounded eyes as he walked past but he said nothing. Neither did Malfoy.
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle imagine#harry potter imagine#everyone lives au#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#potter!reader#fluff#angst#flangst#harry potter#lily potter#james potter#sirius black#draco malfoy#ron weasley#hermione granger
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Drow Lore 🕷️ Drow Terms Of Address (part 1)
A small collection of Drow terms of address, useful especially for drow characters and (Lolth-sworn) drow - drow interactions.
🕷️ Drow As Your Companion (of equal or nearly equal station):
🔹 Abban ('ally', 'not-enemy') - another drow can become your abban when, for example, you happen to be working, plotting, fighting or travelling together, and the benefit of this cooperation is mutual.
🔹 Abbil ('trusted comrade', 'trusted friend') - more than abban. Probably the closest term for 'friend' that exists in drow language, although usually tinged with cynicism - since in Lolth-sworn drow culture, concepts like genuine trust or friendship are almost non-existent.
You should probably avoid calling another drow abbil out of the blue, knowing them only briefly and / or not very good. They may think that you are being foolish, sarcastic or deceitful, and become suspicious of you.
In some cases though, this term can be used genuinely - to express that after spending some time together, a drow perceives someone as a particularly reliable and competent companion.
🔹 Dalninil ('sister') / dalninuk ('brother') - these terms can refer to family members, but sometimes they are also used simply to acknowledge another drow - mostly in neutral, non-hostile interactions when there is no need to be overly formal.
🕷️ Drow As Your Superior (of higher station than yours):
🔹 Depending on the female's social status and / or her profession, you may need to address her in a formal manner, using her title: c'rintri ('noble' - a title used sometimes by members of noble drow houses), ilharess ('matron' - a title of matron mother), valsharess ('queen' - a title normally reserved only for Lolth, but in some very rare cases claimed also by the most powerful matron mothers), yathrin ('priestess of Lolth'), yathtallar ('high priestess of Lolth'), yatharil ('priestess of Eilistraee').
🔹 Regardless of her profession, you may also refer to her as jabbress ('mistress'), us'jalil (or ussta jalil - equivalents of 'm'lady' and 'my lady') or malla jalil ('honored female').
🔹 Malla ('honored', 'honored one') can be used before a title as an additional term of respect, or independently, meaning 'honored one'.
🔹 While speaking to a Lolth-sworn drow female of higher station than yours, remember that she may expect you to look and sound properly submissive (especially if you are a male). In that case, keep your head bowed and eyes lowered, also soften your tone and lower your volume. If you want or need to look particularly submissive - for example, when asking forgiveness - you may kneel or even prostrate yourself before her.
🔹 Dealing with a male drow of higher social status than yours (situation possible practically only if you are also a male drow) may be somewhat easier. For example, a male drow commander may expect your obedience and efficiency, but not necessarily formal, exaggerated displays of submissiveness.
🔹 Some male drow titles connected to social status and / or profession: c'rintri ('noble'), ilharn ('patron' - a title of matron's chosen mate), ulath'elzar or ul'faeruk ('archmage'), qu'el'faeruk ('house wizard'), qu'el'saruk ('house weapons master').
🔹 Regardless of his profession, you may also refer to your superior as jabbuk ('master').
🕷️ Drow As Your Subordinate (of lower station than yours):
🔹 If you are also a Lolth-sworn drow female and you happen to have a higher social status than your female drow companion, you may refer to her simply as jalil ('female').
🔹 In case of male drow, you can refer to him as jaluk ('male') - although this term is less neutral than jalil and is often used by drow females in a derogatory manner.
🔹 A drow servant or apprentice is typically referred to as wanre ('servant'). Commoners can be called shebali.
🔹 While speaking to a Lolth-sworn drow of lower station than yours, your voice, posture, expression, all the elements of your body language in general should reflect your status. Signs of weakness, foolishness and / or incompetence can (and most likely will) be exploited - also by your subordinates. In such scenario, a drow servant or apprentice may agree, for example, to secretly work for your enemy, seeing it as more profitable.
For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️
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Idk if I’m doing this right but can u do a Chad Meeks Martin smut where she’s dating either Ethan or wes but her and chad have a secret enemies with benefits and she goes underwear shopping and Chad is there and there’s loads of flirting and stuff
I LOVED THIS REQUEST
little secret
MINORS DNI
Pairing: (Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader)
Content Includes: (Smut, cheating, slight voyeurism)
Masterlist
✮
✮
✮
Chad and Y/N’s relationship was…interesting to say the least. He had met her through Ethan, his roommate, and the moment he connected eyes with her all he wanted to do was rip off her clothes. His wish came true that night they met, and once he got a taste of her, he couldn’t get enough. There was one slight problem, she was dating Ethan. Neither of them were necessarily proud of what their little secret was, and it caused tension between the two around the others. To the others, they looked at their relationship full of hate. Oh how they were wrong.
Chad was having a bad day. It was Saturday, a guy like Chad was supposed to be having a good day full of drinking and hanging out with his friends. But, here he sat, alone in his kitchen. Ethan had left a few hours ago, with her, to go shopping. They invited Chad, well, Ethan invited Chad, but Chad didn’t want to be a third wheel once again. He also didn’t wanna have to stare at Y/N’s ass be groped by Ethan all day.
He groaned, once checking his phone again for any new messages. He pressed on Snapchat, instantly going to his private album. He scrolled through the photos of Y/N, her bare body starting to arouse Chad. He reached into his sweatpants, starting to stroke himself. He softly whined, and his thumb accidently swiped on the screen, pulling up the map. He immediately stopped stroking as he saw Ethan and Y/N’s bitmoji pop up right next to each other.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, taking his hand out of his pants.
He was starting to get heated, and he huffed as he shot Ethan a text.
Chad
Changed my mind omw
2:36 pm
–
Ethan waved at Chad from a little table in the food court. Chad nodded as he walked over, dapping Ethan up.
“I’m glad you changed your mind.” Ethan said smiling, offering Chad some of his fries. Chad only smiled, taking a fry.
“Where’s Y/N?” Chad asked.
“She’s um-looking for underwear,” Ethan quickly said, coughing.
Chad laughed, but his cheeks grew warm. “Didn't wanna help her?” He asked teasingly. Ethan shook his head rapidly. Chad knew that the two had never slept together, so Ethan’s shyness was expected.
Ethan’s phone buzzed, and he flipped his phone over, face going pale as he read the message. “Shit,” He cursed, immediately standing to grab his stuff.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I forgot I work a shift at three, shit. Can you-“ Ethan stammered, shortly being interrupted by Chad.
“I’ll drive Y/N home.” Chad assured him.
Ethan let out a relief of sigh, and quickly thanked Chad before leaving. Chad was suddenly thanking himself for coming here.
He looked around awkwardly for Y/N in the lingerie store. It was mostly full of women, some dragging their poor boyfriends along behind them. Chad’s eyes stopped on a mannequin, which was clad in a black lace set. The bra had a little pink rose on the center gore, and it had two black bows on the straps. The lace was see through, and Chad imagined Y/N wearing it, being able to see her nipples.
His eyes wandered down to the panties, which also had a pink rose on it. The panties were connected to a garter, which connected to thigh highs. Chad drooled at the set, only picturing Y/N wearing it.
“Can I help you, sir?” He heard a woman ask. He immediately spun around to the voice, embarrassed. He sighed as he saw Y/N.
“Yes actually, I was thinking about getting this for a special lady.” He joked, slightly smirking.
She snorted. “As if you have a special lady.”
Chad smiled seductively, checking their surroundings to make sure no one was in the same area as them, before grabbing at her hips. “I think I do,” he whispered, his head tilting.
Her eyes widened. “Chad, Ethan-“
“He left. Had a shift.” He interrupted. She let out a sigh of relief, and she pushed him away. Chad peeked at her shopping basket, looking at the sets of lingerie she threw in. “Can I see you wear them?”
“No, I told you yesterday.” She said sternly.
Chad remembered. The night before Y/N had called him, and she told him that their little ‘friends with benefits’ was over.
“I know you told me yesterday, but you see, I didn’t agree to it.” Chad sarcastically said.
She rolled her eyes at him, walking to the next section. Chad quickly grabbed the black set before following her.
“It’s not up to you, I can’t keep doing this to Ethan.” She told him, looking through pairs of thongs.
“Let me change your mind.”
“No.” She spat, grabbing the set out of his hands. She walked into the fitting room. Chad wanted to follow her in but didn’t want to seem like a creep, so he waited.
He scrolled aimlessly on his phone, watching a girl leave the fitting room. He heard shuffling, and a loud sigh. “Chad?” Y/N shouted from her room.
“Hm?”
“Can you,” another sigh. “Can you help me?”
He chuckled before standing up and knocking on her door. She opened it a tad, letting him in. “Alright babe, I’m here to assist-“
Chad’s mouth, figuratively speaking, was on the ground. She was wearing the set he had admired previously, but the garter was clipped on. His eyes immediately went to her breasts, and he practically drooled at the sight.
“Can you help me with the garter?” She asked, huffing as she tried to clip it on.
He nodded quickly, his hands instantly reaching to her thighs. He stuck his tongue out as he focused on clipping it on, but failed to do so. She let out a groan and slumped in the chair. Her hips slid towards his face, and her legs spread open. Chad’s eyes flicked up in between, and he felt himself get hard again.
“So, I know you said things were over, but, your vagina is quite literally in my face.” Chad said, looking up at her. She let out a slight laugh.
“What’re you gonna do about it?”
Oh.
Now that set off Chad.
His eyes turned dark, and he grabbed at her waist, causing her to yelp. He shushed her by smashing his lips on hers, and he practically ripped the panties off. She gasped at the cold air, and Chad grinded his hips into hers.
He picked her up in his arms, holding her ass with his hands.
“Chad-We can’t, We can’t do this here. Someone will hear,” she whispered, panting.
He only kissed her neck sloppily, and slowly pulled down his sweats and boxers. “Then I guess you’re gonna have to keep your mouth shut.”
Chad shoved his dick inside of her, instantly moaning at her warm feeling. He rocked his hips up into hers, and he squeezed her ass. Her hand flew to cover over her mouth, muffling her moans.
He thrusted his hips into her at a quick pace, burying his face into the crook of her neck.
“Fuck you always hug me so tight,” he whimpered.
She only moaned in response, wrapping her legs around his wait. His chest bounced as he moved, and he started to play with her tits. At this point, they were shameless, moaning and whining each other’s name, having no care in the world to who heard them.
“Chad,” she said, breathlessly.
He looked at her, still sliding his dick in and out of her smoothly.
“I’m gonna cum,”
Chad only chucked dryly, his ego boosted. “Already baby? What, poor thing isn’t used to this kind of treatment from her sweet boyfriend?” Chad mocked.
“Don’t talk about him while you’re- Ah! Fuck, while you’re inside me,” she protested.
“I bet he wishes he could fuck you like this. Hell, fuck you at all!” She started clenching around him even harder. “I bet he thinks about you when he touches himself, huh?” He whispered, teasingly.
Her eyes started to water at the spot the tip of his dick hit perfectly, repeatedly.
“I bet you think about my cock when you two make out. Do you baby? Do you think of your little secret’s cock?”
She nodded rapidly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he continued to pound into her.
“Are you gonna let me cum inside you baby? Like the good girl you are?” He whispered, his mouth pressed up to her ear. Again, she nodded desperately.
He grunted, rolling his hips into her a few more times before cumming inside of her, her finishing along with him. Chad looked down in between them as sweat dripped down his forehead. He half-smirked at the sight of his white liquid spilling onto the pair of panties. It was alright though, he had planned to buy them for her anyways.
#scream#scream 6#scream vi#chad meeks x reader#chad meeks martin#chad meeks imagine#chad meeks smut#mason gooding#jack champion
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The Lifesurger: Genetic Anomaly
**Given my track record, I'd like to state that there are no further plans for this concept.**
this concept was made because i hate how there's not a true support character in this game which i understand why thats the case. if youre in singleplayer theres no point for it. the medimarker and feedback loop passive gives a reason to want to pick up allies and heal people. maybe this game will never fit a true support archetype but as a permanent support class mf in games like OW, TF2, and LOL it scratches an itch in my brain lmao
Feedback Loop - Passive
Healing yourself(via items) or others will make your attacks stronger. Decays over time. Amount charged is proportional to healing done.
Feedback Pulse - Alternative Passive
Healing past a certain threshold creates a burst of healing around you, harming enemies and healing allies. The threshold increases with level.
Stimshot - Primary
A single shot that can be held down to do more damage. The projectile heals and pierces through allies, while dealing damage to enemies. A fully charged shot pierces enemies and heals more damage. While an uncharged shot is a projectile with gravity, the charged shot is hitscan.
DIRECTORY: MARK - Secondary
The Medimarker targets a selected enemy and attacks it. Additionally, all damage done to the target is tripled.
DIRECTORY: BLOCK - Alternative Secondary
The Medimarker targets an ally and shields them. The target is only able to take an amount of damage up to 50% of their max HP in one hit.
DIRECTORY: ESCORT - Utility
Recall the Medimarker and grab onto it to ascend upward. This skill recalls your secondary.
DIRECTORY: MOUNT - Alternative Utility
Recall the Medumarker and ride it. The drone is weighed down by you, but can be controlled for ten seconds. The drone has less gravity and is faster than your sprint speed.
Pulse Accelerator - Special
Empower yourself and surrounding allies, giving a 50% chance to critical hit chance, removing all debuffs(except void kills, cooldown debuffs like rings, etc.), and a slight healing aura to anyone within range of the skill.
THE MEDIMARKER V1.0.0 LOGBOOK ENTRY:
The Lifesurger(Patent pending) is a prototype firearm that is meant for quick healing on the battlefield. The Lifesurger(Patent pending) excels in its ability to both heal organic creatures and repair machines, meaning that cybernetic enhancements can benefit from the effects of the firearm.
The Lifesurger(Patent pending) is also able to hurt enemy combatants by disrupting cardiovascular tissue, genetic material, and electronic signals. Through the help of an accompanying MED-E to identify friendly and hostile entities, the Lifesurger(Patent pending) is slated to be one of the greatest supporting assets on the battlefield.
Side effects may include: Vomiting, nausea, soreness, sudden bruising, death, genetic scrambling of previous users, limb loss, fever symptoms.
-
LIFESURGER LOGBOOK:
[CAM 3]
Patient 4-B is seen through the facility. She is escorted by a damaged MED-E.
4-B: COME ON MED-E. JUST A BIT FURTHER.
Something is pursuing them.
[Connection to this camera has been lost.]
[CAM 4]
Patient 4-B is seen using Dr. A. Kurosawa's keycard to access Restricted Section 2.
[Unauthorized access. Security has been alerted. No response received.]
Patient 4-B is seen entering Restricted Section B.
[Unauthorized access. Security has been alerted. No response. Automatic alert issued to UESC authorities. This is the last alert they receive from this station.]
Something is pursuing them.
[Connection to this camera has been lost.]
[CAM B-1]
Patient 4-B is seen running down the hall. Her IV is disconnected as she trips. The MED-E helps her up. They continue running. 4-B's vital signals are dropping as a result of loss of ?????.
She stops in front of ROOM 1.
Something is pursuing them.
[Connection to this camera has been lost.]
[CAM ROOM 1]
The door opens.
[Admin has been alerted to the breach. No response.]
Patient 4-B pulls the Lifesurger(Patent Pending) off of the wall. She misfires into her chest and falls unconscious.
The MED-E prods her body with stimulants. There is no response.
Something is pressed up against the glass. It's cracking.
[Connection to this camera has been lost.]
[EXT. CAM A]
Dr. A. Kurosawa is seen standing over the corpse of an unidentified creature. Her hands are up as UESC-dispatched enforcers approach her. The Lifesurger(Patent pending) is strapped over her back.
Enforcer: IDENTIFY YOURSELF.
KUROSAWA: I AM DOCTOR KUROSAWA.
Enforcer: DOCTOR KUROSAWA. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?
KUROSAWA: I DON'T KNOW. THERE ARE MORE INSIDE.
Enforcer: GET TO THE SHIP.
Three enforcers enter the facility. Dr. A. Kurosawa moves out of the FOV. The escorting MED-E follows her.
[Post analysis: Patient 4-B did not report to UESC authorities following this encounter. Her current location is unknown.]
Detective's Notes: I don't know how, but she somehow passed the genetic and facial recognition tests. Someone please let Captain ???? know about the background of his alleged "doctor". Although somehow I doubt he'll really care, seeing as how he's got some real screwballs on board.
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Do you have any advice for writing an intense, overwhelming chase scene?
So, this is a little unusual, in that it's something I haven't really thought a lot about.
For a real world situation, the process is to identify or create an opening, and escape. Usually this advice is more focused for situations for situations where someone's cornered you.
Also, the real world advice is to avoid a chase if at all possible. You don't want to get into a situation where you're directly testing your endurance against your enemy.
As for writing a chase scene. This is one of those times when you want to be efficient with your words, keep things as concise as possible. When you get more verbose it “slows down” the scene because it is literally slowing your reader's progress down.
Chases can be very logistically intensive for you, simply because you need a fairly coherent mental image of how the locations in your story fit together. Maps can be extremely helpful for this, whether you choose to share them or not.
I don't think I've talked about this on the blog, maps can be very helpful for getting a concrete image of how your world is put together, though, they can also, easily, start soaking up more time than the value they offer. That said, even pretty crude maps could be very useful in planning a chase scene. This is one of the times when your world needs to lock together into a unified space, instead of being able to move characters between loosely connected locations.
If you want the reader to have a detailed mental image for the locations, then you should probably have them in those spaces before the chase. Though, this is a situation where some, “stock locations,” could work for you. Liminal spaces can work pretty well for this, because most of your readers are going to have a preexisting basis for understanding what those areas look like. For example: even if their image of an airport causeway is different from yours, you'll both be close enough to the same space that you shouldn't run into many problems where you need to define the entire area.
It's also worth considering that as the chase progresses, it's possible to get gradually more verbose. As mentioned above, this will slow the reader, and as a result the scene, but it can convey the loss of inertia as your character tires or finds themselves having to slow down because they're now in unfamiliar (and possibly unsafe) territory, without being extremely direct about your character's exhaustion. This is an area that can benefit from some pretty careful word selection to hint at fatigue without outright stating it.
I do apologize that this is all pretty high level, concept advice, and a lot of this can be applied in other contexts. And, a lot of the above advice are things to keep in mind for all of your writing, but chases do stress these specific parts of your writing and world building.
Beyond that, it's the normal advice: Remember your world is a living place, so other people would be going about their daily lives while the chase rampages through. Remember persistence consequences, such as prior injuries, or injuries inflicted during the chase. Chases might lead into situations where other kinds of consequences might become unexpectedly relevant, such as your character being forced to run through the territory of a gang they angered earlier in the story. This is an opportunity to bring in unexpected consequences. Even if you don't stick to it, at least have an initial idea for what you want from the chase, then let the sequence play out as you go. (Cleaning this up is what rewrites are for, but it is important to let the chase flow, before you go back and worry about cleaning it up.)
Like I said at the beginning, this is something I don't generally think about, so it's been a bit before I could get back to this question, and I hope this helps.
-Starke
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#writing reference#writing advice#writing tips#starke answers#how to fight write#sliding back under my desk and continuing to be sick
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Tumblr ate the anon ask I was responding to so I'm gonna paraphrase it here:
what do mean llh gave di feisheng to fang duobing? the letter totally said something else
Yes, it did - but I didn't feel I could comment too deeply on it when it's been retranslated and people who are far more literate than I am have analyzed the contents already. -- The letter itself seems pretty straight forward.
However, what I wanted to focus on was analyzing unspoken social dynamics - so I'm gonna get in depth into my reasoning for my interpretation. And admittedly in previous posts I was playing fast and glib with my responses (they were just insomnia-fueled thoughts I typed real fast) so I wasn't really in depth or anything. Anyway~~~ That means it's time for me to get long winded.
So! First thing - this is the scene: The letter was written from Li Xiangyi and addressed in its entirety to Di Feisheng. However, when it was delivered the fisherman asked for both DFS and FDB. It was then read outloud by either the fisherman or FDB -- I assume read out loud, and loudly, because DFS never left his position by the rocks and emoted his distress at the contents. That means everyone there also was privy to the letter contents.
The letter itself is straight forward. It's addressed from LXY telling DFS that he regretfully can't make the duel and that he respects him both as a martial artist and as a person, and if he wishes, he can go to FDB who has inherited his skills and shows great promise, etc.
The thing IS - I firmly believe that this is not a message meant just for DFS.
Both LLH and DFS code switch between their non-leader selves vs Li-Menzhu and Di-Mengzhu. It's easiest to see based on what they're wearing. Li Xiangyi when he's dressed in the Sigu Sect uniform. Or the Styx flower hand-off scene where he calls him Di-mengzhu (not Lao Di or A-Fei or whatever else) likely as a reaction to his official regalia/red uniform which means DFS was showing up in an official capacity. Both of them know very well the importance of a certain.... how to say.... drama? They're both leaders and they were also very performative in their roles as leaders. They both expected that massive peanut gallery that showed up to witness the fight - the one filled with members of various sects, including Sigu Sect leadership -- because dfs was likely the one announcing it.
Imo - aside from the need to express the full weight of what he felt, part of the reason LLH was so formal in his letter is expectation that there would be other people there - influential people. The very people DFS and FDB would have to deal with in the future alone. FDB would be ok but he's largely unknown to the rest of jianghu and therefore his story is still malleable. DFS is known, but infamous and his narrative is as much of a trap as LXY's was. And now he no longer has the benefit of a sect to act as a buffer.
LLH's last act as LXY was not to save Yun Biqiu but to carve a new path open in the world for DFS and FDB:
Expresses that he bears deep emotion and the greatest and deepest respect for DFS despite a reputation of them being enemies
Informs everyone that DFS is not seeking dominion or 'the throne' but rather, is going the fighter-scholar path of studying and testing martial skill -- aka, this is message from one sect leader to all the others present. Spread the word, this man is NOT gunning for your power. None of you have reason to take him down.
Establishes FDB as his one and only successor - while also stating clearly it's entirely up to FDB to decide whether to continue down this path or not
Creates a pathway for DFS and FDB to maintain their connection with each other - and in fact lets everyone else know that there is a pre-established, legacy relationship between DFS and LLH that FDB will be inheriting.
Gently asks DFS to keep an eye on FDB's development - iterating that if dfs is the one asking, then FDB may make the decision to continue to train - aka help him see his full potential whatever his decision is.
At the same time, he silently wishes FDB to maintain connections with/keep an eye on DFS. In another reply I kinda went on about this: imagine a scenario where your friend's mom pulls both of you in front of her. And the whole time is telling your friend that they need to do, expectations, a list of goals, etc. The entire time she's only focused on your friend - but there is this silent implication that you, as the witness, is expected to act a reminder or even an enforcer if your friend isn't listening. If things go wrong, you're expected to go in there and help them to do the thing they were asked to do. This is the unspoken message I'm getting for FDB. Even though his name wasn't mentioned in the letter, it was explicitly delivered to both him and dfs. He's standing right there while an imaginary LLH talks to DFS. So if after all this, dfs disappears without another word = fdb can feel emboldened to go after him, knocking on doors until he answers. Should he decide to do so.
Entreaty - "These are LXY's (my) last wishes. Please respect my memory after my death."
Conclusion: LLH's last actions were to create a space where both DFS and FDB can make their own decision on their path in the world, without the weight of all those other people in jianghu influencing them.
Note: I also believe that on dfs' side, his clothing choices point toward his plans to publicly step down and leave the martial path with Li Lianhua. But llh sucker-punched him and left him standing on some rocks like a widow waiting for her husband who's lost at sea. They were technically on the same page, but it somehow went wrong because... well. Unfortunately that's DFS' narrative. He never quite reaches his goal without the hero either hindering or helping him. The entire drama was LLH being that karma busting fulcrum for him. But now, should he wish it, it'll be FDB's turn to step up and do the same.
#also as an aside - with all the marriage symbolism and the dead brides in every story arc - both lyx and dfs with red uniforms?#llh stealing dfs repeatedly away from marriages? sgd wanting llh to wear the red for HIM but instead llh wears it for everyone else but him#it's very much giving me sacrificial savior where the hero is for the people and not any given individual#mysterious lotus casebook#my royal ramblings#di feisheng#li lianhua#li xiangyi#fang duobing#lxy's last letter#meta
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Build-a-BL: Off the Market
From Aof Noppharnach and Jojo Tichakorn, comes a new show.
Night (First Kanaphan) has been struggling financially for years now, having to pay off his late mother's debts. Until one day he hears about the opportunity of a lifetime. At the upcoming local night market, there is going to be a special exhibit, featuring many priceless artifacts for display. A new job opportunity puts Night right by the artifacts. If he can manage to just grab one of the items being displayed, selling it would give him more than money to pay off the remaining debt and set up a new and good life for himself. But stealing something with such tight security is not a task for one man.
Ace (Khaotung Thanawat) is a burnt out private eye who had long been disillusioned about what good he could do against all the corruption in the world. What's worse, his cases keep causing him to run into Mercy (Mix Sahaphap), a notorious jewel thief that gets in his way and under his skin. At first he wrote it off as an unlucky coincidence, but when Mercy kept showing up at all of his cases, even those that there was no real reason for Mercy to be involved, he had to concede that for some reason Mercy was pursuing him. Against his better judgment, Ace finds himself in bed with Mercy more than he'd care to admit.
When Ace hears about a night market hosting a series of valuable items for display, his private eye senses scream at him that there's something more to what's on display, which is how he meets Night. Inevitably Mercy also gets involved and soon the trio find themselves tangled together as they begin to unravel something far bigger and sinister than they imagine.
Meanwhile, Night's estranged step-sister Dawn (Milk Pansa) is a rookie detective. When she hears about suspicious activity surrounding a night market, she goes to investigate, but is surprised that none of her superiors seem to have any interest in the matter. Things get more complicated when she keeps hearing the name Viper (Bible Wichapas), a respected businessman that all her colleagues seem to respect, tied to what's happening at the night market. What's more, she recently met the mysterious Ruby (Silvy Pavida), who seems to know more than she lets on, but Dawn finds herself inexplicably drawn to her.
Things only escalate by the sudden involvement of Prince (Jeff Satur) a master thief and Mercy's long time rival. Except Prince doesn't seem to be at the night market to steal and his apparent connection with Viper causes more confusion.
Will Night, Ace, and Mercy be able to work together to accomplish their goals? Will the tangled web of corruption be revealed? What are they willing to sacrifice to create the future they want for themselves?
(Full list of details under cut. Also this is 100% a collaborative effort and is about as public domain as a concept for a fictional show can be. If there is anything you want to add or make, please do! Tag me too because I want to see lol)
Country of Origin: Thailand
Primary Genre: Heist
Secondary Genre: Detective
Primary Location: Night Market
Director: Aof Noppharnach (He's Coming to Me, Dark Blue Kiss, A Tale of Thousand Stars, Bad Buddy, Moonlight Chicken, Last Twilight)
Screenwriter: Jojo Tichakorn (3 Will Be Free, Only Friends)
Main Relationship: Throuple
Main Actor: First Kanaphan (The Shipper, Not Me, The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken, Only Friends)
Love Interests: Khaotung Thanawat (2gether, A Tale of Thousand Stars, The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken, Only Friends) and Mix Sahaphap (A Tale of a Thousand Stars, Cupid's Last Wish, Moonlight Chicken)
Heat Level: Maximum Heat (Love in the Air, Kinnporsche, Big Dragon)
Number of side couples: 1
Side Couple: Milk Pansa (Bad Buddy, Vice Versa, 23.5) & Silvy Pavida (The Warp Effect, Laws of Attraction)
Antagonists: Jeff Satur (Ingredients, Kinnporsche, Wuju Bakery) & Bible Wichapas (Kinnporsche)
Tropes: Enemies with Benefits & “I would burn the world for you” & Found Family & Anti-Establishment & Sponge Bath
Character Color Theme: Dark Blue (First Kanaphan), Purple (Khaotung Thanawat), Hot Pink (Mix Sahaphap)
Ending Type: Happy Ending
Show Title: Off the Market
Character names: First Kanaphan - Night, Khaotung Thanawat - Ace, Mix Sahaphap - Mercy, Milk Pansa - Dawn, Silvy Pavida - Ruby, Jeff Satur - Prince, Bible Wichapas - Viper
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