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toournextadventure · 8 months ago

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our little secret pt.iv

Summary: Your sins catch up with you.

Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: swearing, heavy religion and religious trauma (Southern Christianity), heavy religious homophobia, slurs, misogyny, guns, threats of violence, talk of death Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (Masterlist) A/N: this has super heavy religious themes, if you're not good with that please don't read, do what's best for y'all 🫶

Lorraine was coming home.

Well, they were all coming home, but you were only truly excited to see Lorraine. It had been nearly three months since you had seen her last. There was little to no contact because they were moving around a lot, but you would get her letters. Simple little things to tell you where they were, what they were doing, how much bigger they were getting in the industry.

Each letter felt more precious than the last. She never said anything explicit - though you couldn’t say the same for the rare letter from Max or Bobby-Lynn - but the message never changed. She missed you. Filming wasn’t the same when she knew she couldn’t go to you immediately after. Sometimes, if you were lucky, she would even complain about RJ.

The letters stayed hidden in a lockbox in Beau’s truck. You had wanted to keep them with you so they were easier to get a hold of, but both he and Huck had reminded you of the dangers of such a thing. What if someone found them? It would put both you and Lorraine in danger.

It wasn’t something that should have been a surprise to you, yet it partially was. You had gotten comfortable with the small group you surrounded yourself with. All but one or two knew of your little secret, and every single one of them was in support. Or at the very least, they were accepting. When you were with them, you almost forgot you weren’t supposed to be with Lorraine; you were supposed to be in your good, Christian, church-ordained relationship with Beau.

Yet, it was easy enough to keep your secret when Lorraine was away so often. You were so very proud of her and all she was achieving. Each time you saw her, you made sure to remind her of such. A kiss for each time you had felt proud of her while she was away, just to ensure she felt proud of herself. It didn’t matter what she did, all that mattered was she was working hard and moving through life successfully.

Beau and Huck had just gotten back from their own trip as well. They were scheduled to get back a few days after Lorraine, but out of some strange sense of responsibility, they had come back early. You wouldn’t complain. After all, you may not have been romantically interested in either of them, but you still loved them. They were family. They were your family. When they were around, life felt less chaotic. You could breathe and relax and feel however you wanted to feel because you knew, no matter what, that they loved you.

Things felt… good. As good as they had in a long while. You often spent your evenings with Roy. After talking with Jackson a few times, you had some idea on how to talk with your brother. He had been hesitant at first, seemingly not even able to comprehend his own thoughts. But slowly, day by day, you managed to get him to talk.

In the dead of night when you should have been asleep in your room, you sat across from Roy in the barn and listened to his rambling stories. I was an electrician, he had said, a pole jockey. You didn’t ask what that meant. Average life of a pole jockey is 7 seconds. For the first time since coming home, he showed you his overabundance of scars.

It was no wonder he felt trapped within his own mind.

“How’s it goin’, Roy?” Beau asked as he walked into the barn with Huck right on his heels. “Brought you some barbecue.”

Roy grumbled an acknowledgement before gingerly taking the Tupperware box from Beau’s outstretched hand. He always seemed to go fairly nonverbal when someone else was around. A small part of you felt proud that he trusted you enough to talk with you. It didn’t outweigh the feeling of knowing he would probably never get better.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday?” Huck asked gently.

He took a different approach to interacting with Roy than Beau did. While Beau very much kept his “big boy britches” on (as he had so much fun saying), Huck was more outwardly compassionate. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, or they thought Roy incapable, they were just raised differently. At least it was better than how you were both raised.

At least they showed they cared.

“Our sweet girl is preachin’,” Beau continued.

Roy looked at you and raised an eyebrow comically high. If you hadn’t just been talking about people dying and his nightmares, you would have teased him for it. Maybe you should have, just to invoke a sense of normalcy in it all. You opted to keep your mouth shut.

“It’s just kids’ church,” you said with a shrug. “Nothin’ important.”

“You are shapin’ the young minds of America’s future voters,” Beau said with a finger pointed in your direction. “That’s mighty important.”

You laughed and kicked out at him, managing to barely catch his heel. “You hear that from the television set?”

“Yes ma’am, I did,” he said with that cheesy smile that made all the women in town swoon. “You’re doin’ the Lord’s work.”

“You still don’t have to go,” you said to Roy.

He looked at you with a small smile before looking back down at the food in his hands. Yeah, you knew that would be the answer. So did Beau, but he still tried, bless his heart. You looked at him as he continued talking with Huck and felt something tighten in your chest.

You wished you loved him the way you were supposed to. If you could just feel those butterflies whenever he held your hand, or kissed your cheek, or wrapped his arms around you, everything would be better. You could still love Lorraine, and you could still love Huck, but the guilt wouldn’t be sticking to your very bones, weighing you down until you could feel the very fires of hell licking at your skin.

Maybe you could learn. Perhaps you could learn to feel for him the way you were supposed to. Lorraine felt for RJ - or could at least pretend convincingly - and no one was the wiser. If you could pretend, or learn, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. You could get away with loving Lorraine if you could convince everyone that you felt for Beau the way you were supposed to.

While he talked with Huck and Roy, you sat back and really looked at him. He was handsome, you didn’t have to fancy him romantically to see it. Just near every girl in town thought you were lucky as could be; you couldn’t entirely disagree. His laugh, his smile, his kindness, he was everything a girl could want.

And you felt nothing.

It weighed heavy on your soul as the days kept passing you by. Each day brought you closer to seeing Lorraine again, which meant you distanced yourself from Beau. You desperately hoped he understood; you loved him dearly, and there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him. But you just couldn’t love him the way you knew you should.

You sighed and put your thoughts aside when a truck pulled up to the barn. It wasn’t one you had seen before, at least not one you could remember. But it pulled up beside Beau’s truck as if they had done it a million times before. Not even Jimmy pulled up so well, and he lived there.

“You invite somebody?” You asked whoever was listening.

“You say that like we got friends,” Huck said with a chuckle and a swig from his beer bottle. He didn’t even look.

“Then somebody invited themself,” you said.

The lights of the truck were still on, seeming brighter as the sun continued to dip beneath the horizon. It would have silhouetted the still-budding cotton field if not for the blinding lights. Not many people made it a habit of coming out to the barn; they went to the house with daddy and not much else. There really wasn’t much sense in coming out this way.

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh before you heard something scrape across the concrete floor. Hesitantly, you stopped looking at the truck and turned to look at him. His eyes were glued to the truck, and his hand was wrapped carefully around the handle of a pistol. A pistol that you hadn’t known he still had access to.

“I got it,” you said softly as you reached out to place your hand on top of his. He stiffened beneath you, but nodded once and let go of the gun.

You would need to figure out what to do about that another day.

The driver’s side door opened without a creak - something unusual in your bunch - and someone stepped out. You stood up and took a few steps toward the truck in an attempt to see who it was. With the truck’s lights still on, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t even properly see their silhouette. When the lights turned off, you were stuck blinking erratically; the beam of light wouldn’t fade quickly enough.

“You lost?” You called out. The words carried across the now-silent driveway. “Town’s the other way.”

“I’m where I wanna be.”

Every atom of your being sparked at the voice. If you had been thinking logically, you would have remembered Roy was sitting on a box behind you. There were witnesses to your actions. But you weren’t thinking logically. You could never think logically if she was around.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation before you practically sprinted toward the truck. Your arms knew where to go; they secured themselves around Lorraine’s shoulders as if that was where they belonged. In return, her arms wrapped around your waist, and her breath hit your neck, and her giggles reached your ears, and you were home.

She was your home.

“Got back a few nights early,” she said. Her arms squeezed tighter around your waist. “Thought I’d come surprise you.”

“It’s a good surprise,” you said softly.

You would have been content to stand there for the rest of eternity. With her head resting between your collar and jaw and her arms holding you like a lifeline, you didn’t have a single complaint. Why would you even want to leave? She was your home. She was what made your heart beat so fast you started to question if it would even hold up to the abuse.

“Look who’s back.” Beau’s voice came from behind you like the mighty voice of God himself; calling you out for the very sin of feeling love.

Lorraine pulled away to give everyone a hug, and you watched her do so. No one cared about your… affections for Lorraine; if Roy noticed, he certainly didn’t say anything. He even reached out to squeeze her hand, which was much more than he did for most.

Did he know? When Lorraine pulled up a box right beside yours and let her thigh rest only a hair’s breadth away from yours, did he see? It hadn’t ever occurred to you that Roy might know more than he let on. He was traumatised, not blind. How much did he see that you weren’t aware of?

Would he hate you? Had daddy gotten to him before you had even been born, teaching him that your very existence was a blight on the earth? Your stomach twisted into knots at the possibility. Jimmy was younger, he was more open minded, but Roy? The very thought of him condemning you to hell even after everything he had seen made your chest squeeze and tighten.

“You get yourself a new truck?” Huck asked as he held out a newly opened beer for Lorraine to take. “Looks mighty clean.”

“It’s daddy’s,” she said as she grabbed the bottle by the neck with her good hand.

“What happened to the truck I was fixin’ up?” You asked.

“He gave up on it,” she said with a shrug. “Said she was done for.”

“She was not done for,” you grumbled.

The toe of Lorraine’s shoe pushed gently against your heel; a teasing gesture she had adopted when other people were around. Just something small to let you know she acknowledged what you were saying. A habit you almost wished didn’t exist. The very existence of it meant you both were well aware of the ramifications of any sort of potentially scandalous words or activities. It was humiliating.

Your thoughts wouldn’t stop when everyone started talking and catching up. Lorraine was being particularly open. Nearly every time she came back from a trip, she stayed distant for a few days. The entire town knew you were all best friends, but you both tried to keep nothing but professional. It was fake. It was painful.

What about this break made her throw away that distance? Your chest warmed at the possibility that something had happened with RJ; perhaps everything wasn’t so awful. It wasn’t likely, but you let yourself relish in the feeling even if just for a moment. God could spare you a single moment of peace.

“We all gettin’ together Friday night?” Beau asked. “The usual?”

“Sounds good to me,” Lorraine said. She turned to look at you with a sparkle in her eye. “Think you can handle it?”

Roy’s knee pressed against your thigh at the same time Lorraine’s thigh did the same. Something about the potential judgment from your brother and the warmth from the woman you were forced to love in secret pulled at your insides. Tugging them in different directions, stretching you thin until you wanted to fade away into oblivion.

A moment of peace.

“I’m your huckleberry,” you said with a shrug.

Lorraine’s smile eased the tension in your chest. For the moment.

—---

The worn-down barn had been rearranged since the last time you had visited. The bar took over the better half of the left wall, and the makeshift stage had been reinforced at the back. Your usual table, which was originally found near the front of the barn, was now located closer to the back end of the bar; you could see directly out to the pitch black fields.

That was where your crew found themselves that Friday night; sitting at the table with more than a few empty drinks scattered around. It wasn’t like the Mexican restaurant down the road. There weren’t waitresses and people working there to clean. It was your responsibility to take your empty glasses back so they could be cleaned and reused. And on that night, it was your turn to be the waitress.

“Hey sugar,” Beau called to you when you were grabbing the empty cups to take back. “Get us another round?”

“You’re gonna have me lookin’ like an alcoholic,” you said with a pointed look.

You ignored Lorraine’s angelic giggle.

You also didn’t say no.

“What can I get for ya, Preacher?” Stevie - Stephen on Sundays - asked. “Your boys are throwin’ ‘em back.”

“So’s Rainey,” you said with a slight shake of your head. It didn’t erase your smile. “How’s about somethin’ watered down.”

“You truly are doin’ the Lord’s work,” he said with a smirk that most girls around town fell for. “A small bit of whiskey and some sweet iced tea.”

You mouthed a silent thank you as he got to work on the drinks and you turned to look back out at the scene. It was no surprise to see Beau and Lorraine already up and dancing. They couldn’t get you to dance to save your life, but you knew how much Lorraine loved it. She could have fun and laugh and smile without a care in the world. Did it help that she only danced when she was drunk? Yes, but that didn’t really matter.

The sight of her smiling has that vice grip closing around your heart again. It was cold and made you feel like you were drowning on dry land. Something about it didn’t sit right with you. Love was supposed to be something warm, something you could crawl back home to. It wasn’t supposed to hurt so bad, was it? Surely there was more to love than the hurt that you couldn’t even tell anyone about.

God was looking down on you. You could feel it. He was looking down at you, waiting to smite you where you stood. If he could hear your thoughts, could feel the way your body reacted to just hearing Lorraine’s voice, he would command Satan himself to drag you down to hell. You would feel the fiery pits of hell before you could ever show anyone how much you loved her.

But a part of you didn’t care. You would face whatever was thrown at you just to see her smile again. To feel her fingers brush against your hand when you passed her a bible at church because she had forgotten one again. You would have stood in front of God himself and rejected the heavenly gates if it meant you could hear her voice each morning you awoke beside her.

Blasphemy.

You knew it was.

You’re condemning your God for something that will never come to fruition.

You knew that too.

“Here ya go,” Stevie said, pulling you out of your downward spiral into a controlled madness. “Should help ‘em sober up a bit.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you said with another polite smile as you grabbed the glasses he held out to you.

Lorraine and Beau were still dancing when you placed the drinks on the table and drug yourself into your seat. It was one of those tall seats that you almost had to climb into if you were a little shorter. Beau always teased you for it, but you at least got to tease Lorraine in return. She was shorter than you, after all.

“Please tell me these don’t have alcohol in ‘em,” Huck said even as he pulled the glass closer to him. “I can’t keep up with those two.”

“Little bit of whiskey,” you said, “mostly iced tea.”

He nodded once. “I can work with that.”

“Think they’ll dance all night?” You asked, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the love of your life. That ball in your throat reappeared. You pretended not to notice it.

“They’re already stumblin’,” he said with a shake of his head. “I reckon they’ll come back in a bit.”

You nodded absentmindedly and continued to watch the pair. This very scene was a repeat of when she had gotten back a few months ago. The scenes played out in your head perfectly as you imagined the sound of Lorraine’s laughter to go with her dancing. It didn’t cover the sounds of her moans or the feel of her on top of you, but you were allowed an indecent thought every now and then.

If you were going to hell, you may as well enjoy the moment.

God, your mind was a mess. Maybe you needed to get away from town for a few days.

Lorraine’s voice reached you before she did. If you had been blinded, you would have been able to pick her voice out within a moment. Hers was the voice that guided you through your days, instilling a confidence and comfort that nothing else truly could. It rivaled God himself, and you understood how the prophets could be so comforted when listening to Him.

“You didn’t get yourself a drink,” Lorraine commented when she sat down beside you with the same grace as a newborn lamb.

“I’ll just share yours,” you said.

Her toothy smile sent a jolt to your very core.

“You’re dancin’ with me next, darlin’,” Beau said. He attempted to point at you, but just ended up making a mess and spilling half his drink.

“Ask me again when you’re sober, cowboy,” you teased.

“You goin’ to church with us on Sunday, Rainey?” Huck asked.

“Don’t talk about church,” Beau whined. “We’re tryin’ to have some fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” she answered anyway. “So will the rest of the crew.”

That was new information.

“They’re here?” You asked.

“They said they missed y’all,” she said with a smile that was far more sober, almost even bashful.

“You sure they won’t burst into flames when they step foot inside?” Beau asked. You did your best not to laugh when Huck slapped his arm. Lorraine laughed aloud anyway.

You all talked about everything. You talked about nothing. You talked about plans that meant nothing and everything all at the same time. A vacation, perhaps out west, to see the ocean. Perhaps another one to Tennessee, where Huck knew a family that made moonshine in their shed. Or up to those big ole cities like New York, where rumour had it you could get yourself some crab that you didn’t catch out on the Gulf.

Lorraine’s thigh was flush against yours. It was just warm enough outside to warrant shorts, and even though you were wearing your sundress, you could feel her bare skin against yours. The very thought was indecent to its core. There were so many people around that had no idea of the indiscrete touch, yet it was enough to shake you to your very soul.

“I wanna watch you dance,” Lorraine whispered in your ear. It’s possible it wasn’t a whisper at all, but with the band and talking all around, no one else would have heard.

“I didn’t think you liked watchin’,” you said with a straight face that completely contradicted your teasing thoughts.

“I like watching’ if it’s you,” she said with a mirrored expression.

Damn her and those beautiful brown eyes of hers.

“Come on, lover boy,” you called out to Beau even as Lorraine brushed her knuckles against your thigh underneath the table. “You get one dance.”

“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.

He downed what little was left in his glass before hopping down from the stool. Your feet had barely touched the dirt floor when Beau grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He was far past tipsy, though you wouldn’t quite say he was drunk. He was, however, well on his way.

“Just a nice lil two-step,” he warned you.

“Don’t drop me,” you warned.

He smiled the dopey, crooked smile that Huck loved so much. “Darlin’, I wouldn’t dare.”

As much as you hated dancing, it wasn’t half bad with Beau. He was one of the best in town, there was no denying the fact. There was something about his two-step that made it different, a little more special. He could have led the blind with how confident he was. Each step, each twist, each dip, you just simply had to follow. Not once would he ever leave you to falter.

You gave him more than one dance; after all, how could you stop when you had seen the look on Lorraine’s face as she watched? What would it feel like to dance with her, you wondered. Would she prefer to lead, or follow? How would her hand feel resting on your hip for something as simple as a dance? Would it send the same jolt of passion through you as everything else she did?

Once the music started to die down, you could feel the blisters starting to form on your heels. You couldn’t recall the last time you had danced in boots, and your feet were reminding you of such a thing. With a small grimace, you realised you would have to take care of them once you got home. The last thing you wanted were untreated blisters.

“I’m done,” you told Beau. You weren’t looking at his face; you were too focused on your feet. “I think I’m gonna regret this come mornin’.”

His grip on your waist tightened. “How’s about one more?”

“I ain’t losin’ my feet for a dance,” you said with a light laugh. You went to turn towards the table, but he pulled you back.

��Just one more,” he insisted. “Then I’ll let you escape.”

You tried to pull away again. “I reckon I really just need to sit dow-”

-Beau’s lips were pressed against yours before you had time to acknowledge the fact. He was pulling you tight, and your hands pushed lightly against his chest. His lips were chapped; they were nowhere near as soft as Lorraine’s. That was the only thing you could think about as the kiss seemed to drag on.

Until it clicked that you were kissing Beau.

No, he was kissing you.

You finally managed to push him just far enough away for you to look at him. He was looking down at you with startlingly sober eyes. That wasn’t like him at all. In all your years of knowing him, he had never sobered up so quickly in his life. He wasn’t a lightweight, but once he was gone? He was gone.

“What the hell was that for?” You asked softly enough for no one around you to hear.

He didn’t answer.

“Beau,” you insisted.

His eyes flickered above your head before meeting yours once again. What was he looking at? You shouldn’t look. The internal voice that so often resembled your guilt sounded more desperate. Desperate like the look on Beau’s face. It was right, you shouldn’t look.

You turned around anyway.

You didn’t immediately see anything out of sorts. Stevie was starting to pack up at the bar, indicative of either shift change or the barn being out of alcohol for the night. At the table, Huck was facing the bar and throwing back a shot that you didn’t recall him getting. Hadn’t he said he was done drinking? He wasn’t really one to go back once he was done.

Until you locked eyes with Lorraine. Who was standing right outside the barn in front of a kneeling RJ. Who’s left hand was clasped between both of his. Who looked painfully sober while he slid a ring onto her finger. Who looked at you with the same look you got from Jimmy and Huck and Roy when she was with RJ.

You weren’t supposed to look.

Each beat of your heart hurt.

“I think I’m done for tonight,” you said around the lump in your throat.

Beau’s arms held you tighter to his chest. “I’ll take you home.” His heartbeats hurt too.

“No thank you,” you said before finally turning back around to face him. You tried not to think too much about the look on his face. “Stay here with Huck and celebrate.”

“Baby-”

“-It’s alright,” you interrupted with a smile that convinced no one. “Stevie’s goin’ my way anyway.”

Every inch of your body was both numb and engulfed in pain all at once. You stood on your toes - ignoring the sting of raw blisters on your heel - and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. He had a bit of stubble; it was scratchy against your lips and made a nice momentary distraction. It wasn’t enough.

He only tried to hold you close for just a moment more. It was nothing more than a half-hearted attempt, and the instant you pulled away, he let you. With each step, you focused on your heels. On walking carefully so the rough leather of your boots wouldn’t tear them to shreds. A practiced walk that any true Southerner had mastered by the time they were old enough to dress themselves.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you approached the table. It was itchy and you wanted to scratch it until you ceased to exist. But you didn’t, you kept your hands clasped politely in front of you until you grabbed your hat off the table.

“I’m headin’ on home,” you said to whoever was sitting at the table.

You knew who was at the table.

“You okay-”

“-Just feelin’ a bit sick ‘s all,” you interrupted Huck with a dismissive wave and a fake smile. No one was convinced. “Guess I can’t hold my liquor.”

“Need us to drive you home?” RJ asked. His voice alone set your nerves alight and a new pain radiating across your skin.

“I’ve got a ride,” you said. The next word forced its way out of your mouth. “Congratulations.”

She was looking at you, and you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. After all, why would you want to see the confirmation on her face? Did she not know what that would do to you? Your heart was barely getting by as it was, you didn’t need to add her pity to the mix.

You patted Huck on the shoulder before turning away, placing your hat back on your head in the process. It still smelled like Lorraine from when she had worn it earlier in the night. The act had made your fingers tingle with hidden excitement. No one had guessed the hidden meaning behind it; it was lovely.

Now it didn’t matter.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Stevie asked. Oh. You were at the bar. “You’re lookin’ a little green.”

“Just feelin’ a bit tired,” you said. “You headin’ my way?”

He tipped his hat. “Sure am.” A shit-eating grin took over his face. “Want a shot and smoke for the road?”

You should’ve said no. Stevie was someone you trusted greatly, and it was clear he wasn’t planning on taking the shot with you. Well, it wasn’t clear, but he only set one shot glass on the bar, so you assumed as much. But it wasn’t about his potential drinking and driving, it was the way it would look. It wasn’t proper for you to be leaving the bar with a man who wasn’t your boyfriend.

Your hands shook. Then again, it wasn’t quite proper for RJ to show up on your night out and propose to the woman you loved, either.

“I’d love one,” you told Stevie with a smile.

“Atta girl,” he said as he poured the whiskey into the glass. Bottom shelf; more than suitable for the job. “The smokes are in the truck.”

The hair on your arms stood up again. You tried not to think about it as you threw the shot back. The sting of alcohol hit your stomach like a semi hitting a brick wall. Nothing was appealing about it, and yet you weren’t disappointed. The sting was better than the pressure getting heavier and heavier on your chest.

“Alright, you ready?” Stevie asked when you slid the glass back toward him.

“Yessir,” you said with a smile that you hoped was more convincing than the last few.

It seemed it was.

The whole group was staring at you, you could feel it. Looking at you in pity, like a stray dog no one wanted. Everyone would feed it, would love it, would treat it well until the moment it came time to go inside. Then it would be left on the streets to fend for itself. With any luck, it would survive until the next encounter, but no one would take the risk of bringing it inside.

“Here you go,” Stevie mumbled as he held the cigarette pack out to you. It was so worn you couldn’t even tell the brand. You didn’t care.

He held the lighter up, and you leaned forward to get the spark. When you inhaled, the scalding ash burned every inch of your throat. It coated your lungs and took the pressure off your chest, if only to relocate it. The truck started driving off before you could exhale that first cloud of smoke. That was okay. You quickly inhaled again.

The burn showed you what hell felt like.

—---

The sun had risen long ago, and you were still in bed. The dusty yellow curtains were drawn, allowing only the thinnest sliver of light to penetrate your room. Whenever you dared to face the world for a few seconds, you could see the dust motes floating in the air, almost like spring snowflakes.

Momma had talked to Mrs. Day on the phone that morning. You hadn’t been present, but you could hear her through the walls. Her excitement at the news made you sick. You simply held your head out of your window and let yourself be sick before crawling back into bed. The blankets did nothing to block out the world, but you could at least pretend to hide away for a few hours.

You tried not to let yourself think about Lorraine; no easy feat considering she held your heart and soul in the palm of her hand. No, if you thought about it for too long, you felt you might turn into Roy. Stuck in your own head, unable to go about the intricacies of life without the trauma constantly looming over your head. You were more than content to lay in your bed and just rot away.

Hell could go ahead and take you. Surely it was no worse than what you were already experiencing.

“Come on, lazy bones,” momma said as she finally made the bold move to open your bedroom door. “Gramma’s here to help with the garden.”

She didn’t wait for you, but you knew the expectation. When momma asked you to do something, you usually had about 15 minutes before she started to pitch a fit. If you wanted to avoid a guilt trip, you would at least be up and in the process of heading outside by the time she started to get irritable.

You made sure to take up every minute you had. The slightly windy weather was perfect for a pair of jeans, so you made sure to take your time picking them out. The worn pair of garden boots sat in the corner; your heels stung just looking at them. It wouldn’t hurt to work barefoot for the day. After all, God brought you into the world without boots, you could experience another day without boots.

Momma and Gramma were already kneeling in the garden by the time you finally managed to make your appearance. Your hat hung low on your brow to block out the high afternoon sun. It was already hot on your arms, but you could work with it. A bit of sun wouldn’t kill you.

No one said a word as you grabbed the trowel and kneeled next to a still forming row of… well, you weren't sure what it would be this year. Last year it had been carrots, but they hadn’t lasted long. Perhaps this year you would make a bold suggestion of black eyed peas again. You knew you could get it right if you had another chance.

“What’s got you so down today, honey?” Gramma asked after what felt like far too long in the sun.

It had only been about five minutes.

“Does it have to do with Rainey gettin’ engaged?” Momma asked. The question made you sick to your stomach again.

“Yeah, kinda,” you said with a shrug even as you refused to look up at either of them.

“Oh honey,” Gramma said softly, “don’t be upset.” You couldn’t help it. “Beau will propose before you know it.”

Oh. Right.

You didn’t want Beau to propose. You couldn’t imagine anything worse than putting Huck through what you were feeling at that moment. Knowing that his heart would break every time he looked at you, no matter how happy he would be for you. He would have to sit on the sidelines, pretending to be joyous about watching his lover marry someone else.

Would he question God the way you did? Because you couldn’t comprehend why you were getting punished for the very fate of falling for someone you shouldn’t have. It wasn’t like you had planned on falling in love with Lorraine; did He really think you would do this on purpose? After seeing how painful life could be, why would you willingly choose such a life? To not feel a single thing for the man you were “supposed” to be with.

Surely it couldn’t have only been you. Surely you weren’t the only one who didn’t feel a certain way for Beau. Momma felt things for daddy, didn’t she? She had to, there was no other explanation. People didn’t just marry someone they didn’t love, did they?

Did they?

“What does love feel like?” You asked aloud to neither one of them in particular.

“What do you mean?” Momma asked.

You set the trowel down and leaned back on your heels. It stung. “When you look at Daddy, do you ever get, I don’t know, butterflies or somethin’?”

You finally looked up and saw both Momma and Gramma look away in thought. You needed them to confirm it. Needed them to tell you that yes, they felt something for Daddy and Pappy. They felt butterflies, and their palms got sweaty, and they wanted to do everything for them because they loved them. They needed to say it.

“Don’t think I ever have,” Momma finally said.

“Never?” You asked indignantly.

“Not that I recall,” she confirmed.

“How about you, Gramma?” You asked.

She needed to answer differently.

“Not for your Pappy,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I’ve felt somethin’ for someone else before.”

“Mom,” Momma scolded.

“Oh please,” Gramma said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “we’re all grown now.” She turned to look at you. “A man I grew up with.” You kept your eyes locked with hers. “Every time we were together, I’d get this giddy feelin’ in my chest.”

“Did you love him?” You asked.

“I believe I did,” she said with a nod. “He was certainly the one I wanted to spend my forever with.”

The pressure in your chest returned. “Why didn’t you?”

“He wasn’t the one I needed to love,” she said with a shrug before going back to digging up a few weeds.

“How d’you know?” You asked. The sweat made it harder to hold the trowel in your hand.

“God told me,” Gramma said as if it was the most logical answer in the world. “I was s’posed to love him, but I needed to love your Pappy.”

The pressure in your chest turned sharp.

“And you?” You asked Momma. “God told you to love Daddy?”

She nodded instantly. “He certainly did, and I thank Him every day for it.”

“But you don’t feel nothin’ special for him?” You asked. You wanted her to deny it.

“I feel what I’m s’posed to feel,” she confirmed.

You looked back down at the dirt. The tiny little splinters of the trowel handle dug into your fingers as you gripped it tighter. If you looked close enough, you could see a worm or two digging through the rich soil. Would it be easier to be that worm? To not have to worry about who to love, or if God would punish you for desiring someone else?

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Momma said, and you felt her hand rest on your shoulder. “Beau seems to be both the one you’re s’posed to love, and the one you need to love.” You felt sick. “You’re mighty lucky for it to turn out that way.”

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile before digging into the soil again.

Even though Momma and Gramma got back to work, you dug mindlessly with your bare hands, the trowel all but forgotten. Perhaps you had given your Momma too much credit. After all of this, she had ended up with someone that she didn’t love. Gramma had missed out on someone she loved because it wasn’t proper. Three generations of women who were stuck.

Was it a punishment? Surely God wouldn’t punish three generations of women for having feelings for someone. Someone that wasn’t ordained as the “right one” for them. No one could be quite that cruel, could they? What happened to love being something pure, a true gift that was to be held dearly?

Maybe your Momma had fallen victim to the same sin as you. Destined to love someone you weren’t meant to be with. The thought made you sick to your stomach. You were your mother’s daughter. And you were all suffering for the sin of love.

—--

Somehow, some way, you had managed to avoid any sort of small talk with people before church had started. You had stood at the doors to tell everyone good morning, giving Beau and Huck quick hugs before ushering them in. Daddy was already in the chapel talking with everyone, and you were more than happy to practically push the Days in without sparing them a second glance.

You ignored the coiling in your stomach when Lorraine gave you that pity-filled smile.

“You clean up nice.”

For the first time in two days, you allowed yourself to smile for a moment. Maxine was the first to give you a hug, then Bobby-Lynne, followed up by Jackson and Wayne. Truth be told, you had missed them too. There was something comforting about knowing that they accepted you, all of you, and wouldn’t shame you for a single thing.

Except for being a preacher. They still teased you for that one.

“And Beau was convinced you’d catch fire when you stepped in,” you said with a small smile.

“Not yet,” Bobby-Lynne said in her most confident tone. It was a good look for her.

“Everyone’s already inside,” you said with a gesture of your head, “go sit where you’d like.”

“We’ll behave,” Wayne said as he tipped his hat at you.

“Please do,” you called out to their backs.

Only a few more people were left before church started and you could finally close the doors. The kid’s church was in the small connected building on the side of the church. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the whole town had pitched in one year to build it. Something about having their own building made the kids more excited to go to church than anything else. And quite frankly, no one cared what the children enjoyed about it as long as they were excited to go.

“Alright y’all, let’s get started,” you said as you closed the doors behind you.

Daddy had made it clear you would never be the head preacher at church; that right was reserved for when Jimmy got back from seminary. You had tried not to act hurt when he had broken the news to you. The original plan had been for you to go to seminary because Jimmy wanted to go to an actual college. But it seemed none of you would get what you want, and you were all having to live with the cards you were being dealt.

Leading kids’ church was something you enjoyed, so you wouldn’t complain too much. After all, kids were far more open to learning than adults were. They wanted to hear whatever they wanted to hear and nothing else. You couldn’t count the number of times you had preached to the adults and they had come up to you afterwards to debate the meaning of a scripture. The joke was on them, though; you had taken enough seminary to know some of the original translations, not just the watered down version they preferred.

It was a wonderful lesson for the day; love thy neighbour. Something most people seemed to have trouble with at one point or another. Hell, even you had issues with it. There was more than once you had wished trouble up on a neighbour. Particularly when they attempted to belittle you when you were trying to live your day-to-day life. You wouldn’t take it back, but you accepted it had been a fault of yours.

“Alright y’all,” you said when the clock on the wall hit 12:30pm. “Let’s pray for our neighbours before we go.”

“Except those faggots, right?”

“Excuse me?” You said as quickly as the words had reached your ears.

Mr. Dylan’s son - Scott - tilted his head in confusion. You had known it was him; he was usually the one who spoke out the most. And his views were… well, they were perfect copies of his daddy’s views, and that wasn’t something you accepted. Especially not when they came out sounding the way it just had.

“I ain’t prayin’ for those faggots up north,” he repeated.

“Don’t say that word,” you said. “Why would you even say that?”

He sighed and looked at you like you were stupid. “Daddy says those fa-” he paused at the look you gave him, “-homosexuals are dyin’ cause they’re sinners.”

That coil in your stomach from earlier had turned into hot lead. A part of your mind told you to keep your mouth shut; you were in the middle of a church in the middle of a very Baptist town. It was dangerous to say anything that could be considered problematic or un-Christian.

But those people were dying and no one cared. They were suffering for loving someone society told them they shouldn’t. No one was trying to help them, they were just being condemned for something they couldn’t help. All the guilt of the world was being thrown onto them for nothing more than the sake of putting the attention on someone else.

Like you, they were being punished for the sin of loving the wrong person.

You could feel a heat growing in your chest. “They’re God’s children too, and they deserve prayers and love just the same as you and me.”

“That ain’t what my daddy says,” Scott defended.

You couldn’t recall another time you had been itching to beat a child.

“Your daddy is divorced,” you said, “and that’s just as much a sin as anything else. We still pray for him, don’t we?”

Scott thought for a moment. “Yes ma’am.”

“Then we pray for everyone, understand?” You said.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied.

“Good,” you exhaled. The heat in your chest wouldn’t go away. “Now bow your heads and let’s pray.”

The prayer was half-assed at best. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Scott had said. The absolute nerve of Mr. Dylan to tell his son such a thing. You could only be so upset with Scott. He was a kid, and kid’s would mimic whatever their parents said. It was natural, and you wouldn’t fault him for it.

But you could certainly fault Mr. Dylan.

The kids all ran out of the church to go meet up with their parents in the parking lot. The sun was starting to shine down on everyone, and you could feel the asphalt burning through the soles of your shoes. They were a horrible pair, but they were the only ones you had that didn’t rub the blisters on the back of your heels. A small price to pay for the sake of not having nasty scars on your feet.

Across the parking lot, you could see the whole crew leaning against their cars. They were all talking and laughing, most likely catching up. You desperately wanted to go over and talk with them. You wanted to be part of their family again, to feel the comfort in acceptance.

But RJ’s arm stayed wrapped around Lorraine’s waist, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through that just yet.

You turned your body to go back into the church; you hadn’t grabbed any of your stuff, and Daddy usually wanted help cleaning up before heading out to lunch. If you could help him then maybe God would forgive you for the day. Surely he wouldn’t hate you if you were in His house-

-a loud smack hovered below the ringing in your ears before you felt the sharp sting.

Your eyes teared up almost instantly, before you could even bring your hands up to press against the tender flesh of your right cheek. That heat in your chest from earlier had frozen, leaving you motionless even as the threat loomed above you. Even though you couldn’t make out the words, you could vaguely hear the low rumble of a voice over the ongoing ringing.

When you finally managed to blink away a few tears, you looked up. First you saw someone’s back; they were so close you could smell them. Beau. In front of him was Mr. Dylan, standing tall and furious. He looked like one of the avenging angels. Was he coming to kill you? To end your miserable life and escort you down to hell himself?

“We may not be in the church, but this is still holy ground,” Beau said. He sounded angry. He was never angry.

“Then you best take her out back and beat some sense into her,” Mr. Dylan said just as angrily. Perhaps more. “If she defends those faggots again, I’ll beat her myself.”

“You’ll keep your hands to yourself,” Beau said. At least you thought he did. The ringing still hadn’t gone away. “And you’ll take yourself on home. Now.”

You finally locked eyes with Mr. Dylan, and you wished you hadn’t. He was furious. You couldn’t recall a time you had seen such raw hate in someone’s eyes. What could have caused him to have such a visceral reaction to someone’s differing opinions on life? Was that not one of the better parts of life? Being able to disagree and live in harmony?

“I’m watchin’ you,” he said as he pointed a finger in your direction. But just as Beau had commanded, he turned around and left.

“Are you okay?” Beau asked almost immediately.

“I’m fine,” you said slowly, ignoring the slight copper taste in your mouth. “I just wanna go home.”

“I’ll tell your daddy,” he said. “Go get in my truck.”

You didn’t really listen to what he was saying; the ringing had mostly gone away, but things still sounded a little dull. But you knew you could make it to his truck. Your steps were uncertain at first, and you felt like you were drunk. With the way the world tilted ever so slightly beneath you, you were sure you looked drunk too.

You passed the crew without a glance. If they were looking at you, you didn’t notice. The only thing you could focus on was stepping up into Beau’s truck and the warm metallic blood on your lips. Had it come from Mr. Dylan’s ring? Or had you bitten your lip when your head snapped back? You weren’t sure; you didn’t think it mattered.

The window felt cool on your cheek. It was a welcome feeling, easing the stinging sensation ever so slightly. What you wouldn’t give to have a cold steak on it. Maybe a cold washcloth if you could swing it. But as your eyes started to close and the noises stayed at a low thrum, you figured the window was more than good enough.

You were asleep before Beau came back to the truck.

—---

The barn was empty on Tuesday afternoons. Those were the days you used to find yourself hanging in the rafters with Lorraine. Sneaking away before you had found better ways to be together. Your fingers ran over the rough wooden beams that you had sat on time and time again. Even though it ached, you smiled at the memory. You were thankful you didn’t have to pick splinters out of your ass anymore.

“Beau said you were here.”

You could hear the creaky wooden ladder before you saw Lorraine pulling herself up onto the rafter. It had been just long enough for instinct to kick in, and you looked at her left hand. That ever-present pressure in your chest eased a little when you noticed she wasn’t wearing the ring.

You should have been ashamed of being relieved.

You weren’t.

“How’s your cheek?” She asked. Her hand lifted and hovered over your cheek before she thought better of it and let it fall back to her side.

“Fine,” you said with a shrug. You both knew it was a lie. The bruise had turned an ugly dark that circled your eye and highlighted the split of your lip.

“I don’t love him,” she said without hesitation.

“I know,” you said with a nod as you sat down on the barely-standing hay bale.

Lorraine sat down beside you and let her head rest on your shoulder. You desperately wished she wouldn’t. Her touch still sent a fire down your spine. The feel of your heart beating in sync with yours was enough to drive you to near-insanity. You craved her touch far too much for her to be so gentle with you.

“Can we please talk when I get back?” She said softly. “We have to.”

You didn’t want to talk. Honestly, that was probably the very last thing you wanted. No part of you wanted to hear about her having to marry RJ and pretend to be happy about it. Yeah, you knew it was going to happen. Some part of you had always known it would happen eventually. You were hopeful, but you weren’t stupid.

What you really wanted was for her to hold your hand. To pull you in for a kiss without fear of getting lynched. You had just gotten beat outside of a church, but you wanted to be able to feel love without fear of reprise. And you couldn’t even have something as simple as that, because you wouldn’t dare put her in such a position.

Lorraine lifted her head when you still hadn’t said anything. Her eyes held that pity that you hated. They always seemed to hold that pity when she looked at you. You dared to lift your hand to cup her cheek. The scars were healing up nicely, and you could barely tell the difference when your thumb rubbed lightly against her cheek.

You shouldn’t have done it. The crew was in the driveway, waiting for her to come down so they could get going. You didn’t care. You leaned forward and kissed her lightly, ignoring the sharp pain in your cheek. Her lips were warm and soft; they always were. She tasted of home.

As you sat there, kissing the woman you loved with the desperation of a man on his deathbed, you believed you would be happy if those were your last moments. If God had come down in that moment to take you, you would have been content. The last thing you would have experienced was a moment of love and the taste of Lorraine on your lips.

“I love you,” you mumbled against her lips.

You hoped she understood the many other things you were trying to convey with those three words. I love you. You’re my home. I have betrayed my God and my family for you, and I would do it again. The world hates me and wants me dead, but I would give up everything for you. Only you.

“I love you too,” she said just as softly before leaning forward into another kiss. Something softer. Somehow holding more desperation than the last.

It was all over far too soon. It was bound to be over too soon. Lorraine had a life outside the four walls of the barn, and you were being called back to the church. When she pulled away, you chased her lips for a moment more. One more kiss, one more touch, one more instance of the comfort and turmoil and peace that she instilled within your soul.

“I promise I’ll be back,” she said. “Please be here when I get back.”

You nodded. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”

Her answer was one more kiss, filled with everything she didn’t have time to say. It could have lasted for the rest of your life and it still would have been too short. When she pulled away, everything felt cold. But you were brave. You watched Lorraine head back to the ladder and pause. The tears in her eyes matched your own. As much as you hated to see her cry, it left a feeling in your chest that she hated leaving just as much as you did.

“I love you,” she said. Perhaps a bit too loud. You didn’t care.

“I love you,” you repeated.

She bit her lip and continued her way down the ladder. You let the tears fall freely as you listened to her boots on the gravel making their way to the van. It started up quickly and they were gone almost as soon as the van door closed. The barn didn’t feel so familiar when she was gone. No, it felt empty, foreign.

Sinful.

You waited until the moon was high in the sky before coming down from the rafters. It wasn’t wise to be out so late, but you had nowhere else to go. Beau and Huck had left the night before to help with an emergency, and home held no comfort. All you would have done was rot away in your bedroom, and even that didn’t sound desirable.

Instead, you found yourself walking to the church. It would take a solid thirty minutes, but that was alright. After all, what else would you be doing? You were certainly in no mood to sleep. You wanted to stay awake so you could remember the feel of Lorraine’s lips on yours for as long as possible.

She was right, you would need to talk. Even if it was a talk to cut everything off completely, you both needed to be on the same page. Neither one of you had to be happy about it, but the inevitable was coming to fruition. At some point, one of you was bound to get married. And not to each other.

Perhaps you could all still live near each other. It wouldn’t be the same, and you would still have to hide away, but it would be better than nothing. All you wanted was to stay close to Lorraine by any means necessary. If that meant you could only stay close to her as a friend, you would do it. It would drive stakes into your heart day after day, but it was better than losing her forever.

Your feet were aching by the time you reached the church. Like the true Southern child you were, you had gone barefoot for the night. Your body was used to it, but that didn’t mean the long walk on dirt and gravel wouldn’t leave its mark. Not a single part of you cared about the dust as you opened the church doors and walked into the chapel.

The candles up front were the first things you lit. They weren’t numerous, but they were enough to light the small part of the pulpit that you kneeled in front of you. The carpet was rough against your knees; you must suffer to worship God, your Daddy had said at one point. Nothing about your beliefs were easy, and that was the point.

You rested your hands on your thighs as you looked up at the cross hanging behind the pulpit. It was a simple wooden cross, stained white. If you looked at it hard enough, you could see every one of your sins staining the cross. A horrific red against the startling white.

You wanted answers. You wanted to know why you were being punished. Had you not been good? Had you not been dutiful in your passion for Him? You had done everything you had been told. You had preached, you had read His word, you had followed His rules to the letter. Most people struggled to follow the most basic of rules, and they certainly weren’t being punished.

Tears welled up in your eyes not from sadness, but from anger. He had created you. He had known everything about you and had created you anyway. And now you were being punished for that very same existence? No, you had been good, you had behaved. You were a good girl. What would it take to prove that you were good?

The church doors clicked.

You hastily wiped the tears from your eyes and stood up. No one was supposed to be at the church, it was late. Whether it was a person or an animal, no one was supposed to be around. Should you defend yourself? Daddy usually had a gun at the church, but he had started taking it home lately to prevent accidents.

“Needed some extra prayers?” Mr. Dylan asked. His voice gave him away before you even turned around.

He was in his usual work clothes, but his pistol rested loosely in his hand. Part of you hoped he had brought it for protection from the coyotes and wild boars that liked to roam during the nights. You weren’t entirely stupid enough to believe your own hope.

“How’s ‘bout I pray with you,” he said as he walked closer.

You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to go on home, and you would go on home as well. Neither one of you needed to be in the church so late at night, you both needed to be home. Your families were waiting for you, weren’t they? It wasn’t proper for you to be in the church alone with a divorced man.

“Mr. Dylan-”

“-go on,” he insisted as he used the pistol to gesture to where you had been only moments before. “Kneel and pray.”

You did as instructed. “What would you like me to pray about?”

“Ask God for forgiveness,” he said. You couldn’t see him from where you were kneeling. “For the both of us.”

The carpet still stung on your knees.

“Forgiveness for what?” You asked. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears you weren’t sure if you would even hear him.

“See if He’ll forgive you for that hellish demon you’ve been afflicted by,” he said.

You kept your mouth shut. You couldn’t recall what he meant. Yes, you had defended homosexuals on Sunday, but surely that wasn’t worth threatening you over, was it? He was a bit rash in his decisions, but he wasn’t ignorant. He wouldn’t risk jail just for this.

“And for you?” You asked.

“See if He’ll forgive me for doin’ His work.”

You heard a familiar sound from the pistol. Your hands shook. Your mind was screaming at you to turn around, to face him. He wasn’t the bravest man, there was no way he would kill you if you were looking him in the eye. And yet, your heart told you to close your eyes and pray.

“Somethin’ ‘bout you never sat right with me,” he continued. “Never figured you for one ‘a them queers.”

You had heard of this happening. Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. But you were. You were scared. There was no beating around the bush, you were flat-out scared. He was holding a gun to your head. Wasn’t that something Daddy had always talked about in church? If someone held a gun to your head and said he’d shoot you if you were Christian, would you admit it? You had thought it was just some silly question he used to get people to think about his lesson.

You had never imagined he would be right.

“I shoulda done somethin’ ‘bout you years ago.” He just couldn’t quit talking. He’s nervous. “I ain’t gonna let you ruin these kids.”

He cocked the gun again; he must have uncocked it at some point. He just needed to get it over with already, what was he even waiting for?

The shaking in your hands stilled. Perhaps it would be for the best. The suffering would end. What would it be like not to hurt? Surely Lorraine would be alright, she had RJ and the crew. Beau and Huck would keep her safe. They always did. You wouldn’t have to feel that pressure in your chest and you could still watch over her anyway, couldn’t you? Probably better than you were now.

Something cold pressed against the back of your head.

“Say one last prayer.”

You risked tilting your head up to look at the cross one more time. Maybe it was time you died for your sins. After all, you hadn’t lived with the guilt for years without thinking this would happen eventually. How long had you truly thought you could get away with such a secret? No, this was bound to happen.

Lorraine had been smart enough to get out of town. She had gotten herself a beau that would be suitable for the purpose and had left. No one had any time to question her, and as much as you hated it, she had been right. Maybe she could be safe after all of this. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be so afraid.

She would forgive you. Lorraine had never been one to hold a grudge against you. Against others, sure, but not you. You were glad you had told her you loved her earlier. It eased the guilt. She knew you loved her; she knew you would have died for her. You were just upholding your end of the bargain.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let the guilt start to fade away. You had spent so long afraid of what God would do to you for your sins. Seemed He didn’t really care all that much; it was man who cared. No one was going to come save you. You let your mind wander to Lorraine as the barrel pressed harder against the back of your head.

I don’t want God’s forgiveness. I want Lorraine’s.

The metallic sound made you flinch, but you didn’t hear the shot. Your body froze completely. Had you missed it? Were you already dead? It didn’t even hurt, maybe it was quick. That was the best anyone could hope for, right? For it to be quick and painless.

You cracked your eyes open and looked around. It was still your church. The cross still loomed over you like some holy judge and executioner. Were you in purgatory? Well now, that would just be worse than hell, you believed. An entire afterlife full of nothing? You would rather burn in the fiery pits.

“I suggest you step away from my sister.”

“Roy?” You asked immediately even though you knew you should have kept quiet.

You turned around quickly, ignoring the carpet burns on your knees. It was him. Roy was standing near the back of the chapel, rifle held in steady hands. You didn’t know he still had one. It was aimed directly at Mr. Dylan who, for the first time, looked surprised.

“You’d best put that gun down, boy,” Mr. Dylan said. “This don’t involve you.”

“It does if you threaten my sister,” he said again. He wasn’t looking at you but gestured his head. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Stay where you are,” Mr. Dylan said. He froze when Roy readjusted the rifle.

You kept your eyes on Mr. Dylan as you slowly pushed yourself up to your feet. His grip on the pistol tightened, but he otherwise stayed still. Each step you took was slow, calculated. It felt like you were walking before God to the gates for judgment. Your every move was scrutinised and all it would take was one wrong step.

But he never did anything. He just watched you until you were standing firmly behind Roy. The shakiness that accompanied his every move was gone, replaced with something you didn’t recognise. It was reminiscent of the old Roy, the one who had never gone to war. The only difference was the dull look in his eyes.

“Go get in the truck,” Roy said softly.

“What?” You looked at him. “I ain’t leavin’-”

“-Now.”

There was a harsh tone to his words. Authoritative. He sounded just like Daddy when he was preaching. It left no room for argument; his word was law. There was too much comfort in the way he held the rifle. If you left him, would he kill Mr. Dylan? Would he kill a man in the middle of the church?

He had nearly done the same to you.

Perhaps that was a good point.

“Okay,” you said aloud since he wasn’t looking at you.

You backed away slowly, keeping your eyes glued to the both of them. The last thing you wanted was to turn around and have something happen. It would have been shameful to go out that way. But no one else moved; they just stared at each other until you were out of the church and could run to Roy’s truck.

The silence was almost painful. You could hear the crickets outside creating a symphony with the locusts. If you strained your ears, you could hear a few frogs. But you weren’t listening to the wildlife; you were listening for the gunshot you were afraid was imminent.

Each second ticked by so slowly you felt you had aged another few years. What was taking him so long? He needed to leave Mr. Dylan alone so you could both go home. You could all get some sleep and pretend none of this had ever happened. You wouldn’t tell anyone if he didn’t, you just wanted it all to be over so you could see Lorraine again.

It felt like your heart had nestled in your throat by the time Roy walked outside. He wasn’t even looking back at the church. The rifle was casually slung over his shoulder, and for a moment, you could imagine him in the war. But then he got in the truck and tossed the rifle in the backseat.

He didn’t even put on his seatbelt before driving off.

“What happened?” You asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Roy,” you said again.

He missed the road to your house.

“That’s our turn,” you said aloud.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter.

“Roy, what the hell is goin’ on?” You asked again.

“We stay here, they’ll kill you.” The blood in your veins froze. “I know some guys out East.”

You leaned back in the seat and looked out the window. It was dark outside, but the stars were bright. Orion’s Belt was there, just as always. Night after night, he appeared to give you consistency and comfort. You didn’t entirely feel it.

“What about Lorraine?” You asked. There was no point in hiding it anymore; Roy wasn’t stupid.

Roy sighed. “She’s got Beau and Huck.”

His words didn’t put the pressure back in your chest. No, it was something worse now. It wasn't pressure, it was a knife. A knife that had missed your heart completely, keeping you alive as it twisted deeper, touching your very soul with its fiery edges.

Lorraine wouldn’t know what happened to you. She wouldn’t know where to find you. What if something happened and she needed you? What if you needed her? That wasn’t supposed to be the last kiss you gave her. You weren’t supposed to leave without even telling her goodbye. How were you expected to keep going when you knew you couldn’t see her again?

A hot tear fell down your bruised cheek. God had a cruel sense of humour.

You would have rather died. At least it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader

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oh-meretseger · 8 months ago

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part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation

word count: 3,4k

“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...

"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.

Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.

You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.

And working on that project with him became impossible.

But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.

"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"

You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?

"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"

"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...

"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"

"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”

You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.

"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"

"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.

Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?!"

"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.

"NO! You promised you would stay!"

"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"

"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...

"Hi, are you not-"

"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.

"Sasha!"

"Bye, pookies!"

BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.

He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...

"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.

What. The. Hell.

There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.

"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.

"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.

Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.

"JEAN!"

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"

"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"

"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"

Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.

"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.

You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.

"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.

"You're a prick"

"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.

"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"

"A shower?"

"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.

And it was kinda cute.

Huh?

You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"

"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"

"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.

"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"

"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"

Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?

Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.

He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.

Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.

He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.

Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.

His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.

You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...

And it felt good.

You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.

Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.

Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.

Yes, it was definitely yours.

After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.

Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.

Dear lord.

He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.

Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.

He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.

Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.

"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.

But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.

He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.

Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.

Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...

"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.

And for being so right about you being into him.

In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.

His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.

"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.

This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.

"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.

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abstractnaturaldisaster · 7 months ago

Text

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part four

part five: i was hoping you'd be there

Robin managed to keep her shit together for approximately ten minutes after she stopped watching Steve make his way through security and into the depths of the airport. In the ride back to Steve's place, her leg was shaking so much Nancy discreetly grabbed Robin's pinky and held it in the back of the car.

The rest of the trafficky route back to Steve's all Robin could think about was how to fix things. She knew Steve didn't tell her about Eddie so she could fix things and Steve didn't run off to Italy to hide from everything but the situation still bothered Robin. She hadn't known Eddie for a terribly long time but he made her dingus happy so she held him in relatively high regard. It didn't make sense for him to just cut tail and run without leaving some sort of door open for a resolution and Robin was going to her darndest to figure out how on earth she could find that crack.

When they got back to Steve's apartment, Nancy didn't let Robin go long without asking for an explanation.

"Robs, babe, what is going on?" Nancy asked.

"I need to figure out how to solve Steve and Eddie." Robin answered.

"I don't think Steve wants you too. He seemed pretty resolved to close that chapter." Nancy urged.

"I know what he said but that's not what he wants. Also Eddie is a huge dummy if he doesn't realize how good he had it with Steve and also that Steve would never cheat on anyone. Especially not after y'all's whole thing. No offense." Robin continued.

"Okay so we aren't letting this go. What's the plan?" Nancy asked.

"Thanks for your support, love. I just can't figure out why Eddie jumped to the conclusion that you and Steve were together again. I mean no offense but like that ship very publicly sailed," Robin said.

"I'm trying really hard not to take offense but the more often you say it the more I am having trouble not being offended," Nancy snarked.

"Sorry, dingus wormed his way into my little heart long before you so I still gotta give you shit over soulmate solidarity. But back to the matter at hand. Eddie only assumed you would only be visiting Steve if you were trying to get back together when really you were coming to see little old me. So what if I came out. Like what if we came out? And shared some of the pictures from like super early on and thanked Steve for being a great friend for many years when I wasn't ready to take that step," Robin knew she was rambling but, hell, she was on a roll.

"Are you ready for that? I'm happy to take your lead on all this. It's not like we haven't already told everyone who is actually important to us. I mostly write freelance nowadays anyways so there isn't really some big bag corporate overlord I need to worry about. You know Steve doesn't need you to do this? It's one thing if you're ready to come out on your own, it's a whole different thing to do it for someone else," Nancy counseled.

"I really think I'm ready. I'm sick of Steve feeling like he needs to come to everything with me and you're stateside a lot more often and I'd love to go out on dates without the next day having like a million articles speculate if you're trying to move in on Steve. I think it's time," Robin rationalized.

"All right, then. We're doing this. Should we use this as an excuse to make Jon take cute couple pictures of us?" Nancy giggled a little at her suggestion.

"Yes! Perfect. Get him over here. Operation Save Dingus from his Self Sacrifice is a go!" Robin jumped up on the couch to make her point and Nancy immediately had to come to her aid as she wobbled enough to lose her balance.

Robin was excited. She was ready for the next step with Nancy and if it helped Steve get out of his own head and/or convinced a certain metalhead with very few remaining braincells to get his head out of his ass then so be it. Robin couldn't wait to think of all the sappy shit Nancy would pretend to be annoyed at she'd be able to do now. Steve would be back in a few weeks so Robin anxiously awaited Jon's response and started several caption ideas in her notes app.

part six

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

it's not quite fixed yet but we are getting so close!!!

#steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #don't worry robin will fix it #angst #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie #actor steve #was it over then ficlet

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restinslices · 6 months ago

Note

Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick.

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment.

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room.

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that.

“You look like shit” you said.

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you.

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing.

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”.

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space

Just enough time for doctors to look you over

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you.

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try.

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him.

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there.

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”.

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away.

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man.

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face.

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time.

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating

When they find you he's so relieved

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive.

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better.

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah.

“Tomas?” You said.

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out.

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright.

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip.

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief.

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

154 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 1 year ago

Note

If you’re still taking requests, can you please write a wolff!reader x charles leclerc fic? And they’re secretly engaged and in love and toto finds out and he doesn’t want them together and tries to break them up. Maybe they break up for toto and then he sees how sad they are w/o each other and how happy they were together? Angst to fluff and happy ending please 😭💕💕 Tysmmm i love your work sm

Romeo and Juliet

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: ANGST lots of it but a happy fluffy ending

Request: yes, and forbidden love? Yes please! Sorry if this is darker then you were thinking… I got a little carried away 😅. I am open for requests! Mainly for Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, Daniel, and George.

Summary: Reader and Charles are in love. Unfortunately for them, Toto is determined to keep them apart.

Warnings: Angry Toto, sad reader, Charles trying to problem solve. MENTIONS OF SH but not description of it, MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL IDEATION but again nothing descriptive, bullying and toxic media.

Notes: written in third person. Please like, comment, and reblog. I like to hear from y'all. It makes me feel like a celebrity 🥹.

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feelings hurt if you ignor this, but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

She’d never been quite sure how it happened. How she managed to find her soulmate. The two are meant for each other. The only downside is that she is living a Romeo and Juliet parody.

Being a Wolff meant spending majority of her time around the race track or at the factory. From the time she was little, she was following her dad around.

Toto never had any hard and fast rules regarding being friends with people from other teams. He couldn’t stop her from being friends with those she spent majority of her time around. He did, however, have rules about dating. Mainly not to date a driver and if she was then he would allow a Mercedes driver.

So her options were Lewis and George. She liked both, but not in any romantic way. They are her brothers. She annoys them and them tease her and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her and Charles had been friends since he first started with AlfaRomeo. The two clicked instantly and talked constantly. She was the first person he looked for after a good race or a bad one. He was her everything and she was his.

Four years later they started dating. Secretly, of course, because she didn’t want her dad smashing anymore headphones. They made it work and were willing to do what it took.

It helped that she already lived in Monaco since that’s where majority of her friends lived. It made sense why they would ‘run into each other’ so often since they live in a small place.

George found out by accident right before a race. He’d found her phone in the ground. It had fallen out of her pocket and she’d not noticed. When she had noted it’s disappearance, she tried to locate it by calling it with Charles phone.

George took one look at the caller ID and knew. The less then friendly contact name, mix of heart emoji’s, and Charles contact photo gave it away. He answered anyways. If Charles knew where she was then at least he could give her phone back.

“Hello, this is George.” He only got silence in return. “Hello…?”

“Please tell me you didn’t see the called name.” Came her voice from the other end. The desperation in your voice making him chuckle. He was never going to let her live this down.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Now can you please come get your phone.”

The two lovebirds were able to make more things work after. Being able to have George cover form them helped immensely. Dates became more frequent. Places they wouldn’t normally go were suddenly a possibility.

Lewis caught on eventually. He saw right past the sheepish smiles of George and Y/N. While she was sneaking back in the garage through George’s driver room.

Between George and Lewis the teasing only escalated, but the two of them were the best possible wingmen she could have asked for. They managed to distract her father away when she was cutting things close.

It didn’t last forever though. The ending of Romeo and Juliet isn’t a happy one.

Someone had managed to take a picture of them kissing. It was a cute picture. Charles kissing her on what was supposed to be a private beach during the sunset. A picture that she woke up to circling the medial faster that the cars on race day.

Charles woke up to her rapid breathing. Her phone lighting up the dark room with constant notifications. Charles wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright amour. We’ll figure this out on day at a time.

Things were weird after that. She clung to Charles as she was ripped to shred by the media, the fans, and her father.

She was being called a traitor to her fathers team. Her father had labeled her disrespectful. It was an utter nightmare.

The two Mercedes boys stood protectively behind her. Toto’s voice getting louder by the second. She was still sitting in the chair opposite his. Her eyes downcast to the lightly colored desk.

“I don’t understand why you chose him. A rival team! How do I know your not telling him everything about our operations?” Toto’s voice was laced with venom. This arms waving around to exaggerate his point.

“Because I love him. And I would never do that to you.” She wanted to stay strong, but the tears were threatening to spill over.

“I don’t want to see you back here until you two are broken up.” He turned his back to her.

She quickly exited, George following close behind her. Lewis remained in the office.

“I think you’re being too hard on her.” Lewis pointed out. Still leaning in the wall close to the door. His arms crossed over his chest, staring at the team principal he holds immense respect for.

“Aren’t you concerned at all?”

“No, she loves her family to much to do anything like that.” Then he left. Finding the girl he considered his sister clinging to George’s shirt.

Both of them had seen the comments. Both had been asked about it during interviews. Both had told their fans to leave her alone. It hurt both of them to see how people were treating her. The names they felt no remorse for spewing. It made them sick.

Charles’ fans were not any better. He hated seeing them tell her nasty things. Spreading rumors they knew nothing about.

He’d tried reassuring her constantly that she is his everything, but he knew she was losing her family. The last thing he wanted to happen. He wanted to protect her from this. Guilt wracking his body because he felt powerless to do anything.

When he found her that day, sobs wracking her body as she went to find him, he knew how he could help her. The last option either of them wanted.

“I love you so much.” He said, cupping her cheek gently, letting the tears roll down his cheeks and attempting to wipe away hers. “But I don’t want you to lose your family because of me.”

Charles called George that day to tell him want he was going to do. George having understood his actions and promised to be there for her. So when the broken girl showed up at his house that night, eyes red and puffy, he’d already been ready for her. Carmen making sure that she had extra clothes for her in case she ended up staying awhile.

Charles’ next stop was to see Toto. The older man hardly sparing him a glance as he walked into the office. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you.” He started. Toto still faced the wall, refusing to look at him. Something Charles was grateful for. “Me and your daughter have parted ways. So, I’ll hope you’ll allow her to stay with her family. Neither of us wanted things to happen this way. But I’d rather lose her then watch her lose everything she’s grown up with and worked for.”

Charles waited a moment to see if he’d get a response before turning around and ducking out of the office.

He stayed with Pierre that night. Broken and defeated. His heart heavy with the sadness and longing to be with the woman he loved so dearly.

The media didn’t stop though. The news around them still trending. People still feeling the need to voice their disgusting comments.

Toto had tried to connect with his daughter, but received no response. In fact, nobody had. She hadn’t been to a race in months. Both George and Lewis had tried calling and texting her only to receive nothing in return. She hadn’t even read their messages.

Charles was hurting as well. He didn’t want to cause her anymore pain. So he distanced himself from everything that related to her. Carlos and Pierre had been watching his behavior. His head clearly not in a good place mentally. They were running out of ideas in how to help him.

Lewis was the one who caved first. He’d given her enough space, now it was time to invade it. He dragged George with him to her apartment in Monaco one morning. Determined to see proof that she was at least breathing.

When they got no answer, they searched for the spare key. The one she hid in the light above her front door. Relief flooding them both as George managed to locate it.

When they finally got the door open, they were greeted with the dark apartment. It looked like no one lived there. The fridge was empty and the cupboards almost mirrored it, aside from the open box of your favorite cereal.

There was broken glass along the counters and floor. Pictures had been taken off the walls. A few empty bottles of alcohol lay strewn along flat surfaces.

The woman they’d been looking for was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Her chest slowly rising and falling.

George went to gently try and pull her from her sleep without scaring her.

Lewis on the other hand, went to investigate the rest of the rooms. Terrified at what he’d discovered.

He lightly jogged back to George, who didn’t want to pull her from her peaceful slumber, and tapped his shoulder. Motioning for the younger Brit to follow him.

Their first stop was the bedroom. Everything that reminded her of Charles had been stripped away. leaving only the mattress in the center of the room. The long mirror hanging next to the closet had been shattered. The glass that had fallen out of it scattered around the base word they’d seen people calling her written in thick black marker now divided by cracks.

Next, Lewis led them to the bathroom. The sight of it making George want to vomit. The bathroom mirror had also been cracked. Towels stained red line the countertop. Pills litter the bathroom floor. And the knife she’d been gifted by her father for her 18th birthday lay on the edge of the sink.

Who is obviously what had happened here recently.

George who was struggling to look at the scene went back to trying to coax the woman, his sister, out of her slumber. Lewis making an attempt to at lease get the area safe. Their hearts hurt for her. They knew she was hurting but neither knew it had gotten so bad.

Charles was her soulmate. Both her and Charles knew it. They had envisioned their life together. A life that she saw every time she closed her eyes.

She tried to separate herself from his memory. Tried to distract herself. But she couldn’t get her mind away from him. How he made her smile. How he listened even to the pettiest things she complained about. She wanted that back.

If her family didn’t want her for it and Charles couldn’t stand to see her hurting, then she would get back there on her own.

If their story was like Romeo and Juliet’s, why shouldn’t it end in tragedy as well?

But their story keeps going. Because they are meant for each other. So they will find away even if they don’t know it yet.

The gentle touches of Charles ghosted over her bare arms. Her mind trying to hold into the feeling even if he wasn’t here.

She cracked her eyes open to the dark room. Her body revolting as she tries to sit up. Her dehydration finally getting to her. Her head pounding from last night events.

She’s had a few episodes like this and knows she needs to get help. She doesn’t know where to start though.

She hadn’t really eaten much the last sixth months. Even food reminded her of him. How was she ever going to move in at this rate?

Then she noticed the sounds of breathing beside her. The familiar face of George greeting her, though his eyes are sad.

She immediately sits up. The horrible scene that is her apartment now clearly seen by one of the last people she wanted to know she’d sunk this far.

“George?” Her voice merely a quiet rasp.

“It’s okay now, we’re gonna help you. Okay?” His voice cracked. The male is clear distress.

Lewis came around the corner upon hearing voices. Relieved that she’d woken up. “I think we need to talk.”

Charles hadn’t been staying at his apartment. He knew he wasn’t in a good place mentally, so he went back home. His mother welcomed him with open arms, sad to hear the news of the two splitting.

He’d talked to Lewis and George about her during race weekends. Their lack of knowledge causing his concern to grow more with each passing week.

He’d tried for sixth months to force himself to move on but he knew it was in vain. She was made for him and he belonged to her. How was he supposed to move on from that?

Pascale had struggled watching her middle child. He struggled to eat, struggled to sleep, to the point it was affecting his performance.

“You should talk to her.” She suggested.

“I’ll only hurt her more.”

“I’ve been looking in social media for her. The things people are saying is terrible.” She sighs, the situation itself only getting worse. “She needs you.”

Toto knew he messed up. As soon as he’d made her choose, he knew. Only to have it confirmed when he heard the waver in Charles voice. When he didn’t see his daughter for moths. As he watched Charles performance fall.

He’d tried to contact her. Susie had encouraged him to call her the night everything happened. He’d received no response for sixth months. He’d asked Lewis about her only to be met with his sigh and sad eyes.

It’s like she disappeared from the planet. Everyone worried about her. But they collectively decided that maybe she needed space.

He knew she and Charles were happy together. He’d seen how big her smile was when she was with him. Even when he thought they were just friends. The two of them had been contagiously happy.

The next race came around quickly. At least for Charles that’s how it felt as he strode to the Mercedes paddock.

He spotted Lewis and George and weaved his way towards them. Everyone trying to get one roared for the weekend. Exactly what he should be doing.

“Charles! Listen mate-“ George had started. But Charles cut him off with the urgent need to speak with Toto before he could get in his head. “I need Toto. I need to see her again.” He was ready to break.

“He’s in his office.”

Charles didn’t waist any time making his way there. The older man a bit startled at the sudden appearance. “I love your daughter. I am begging you to not make her choose.” He was pleading but he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry.” Toto looked pained. Charles is taken off guard by it. His reaction the last thing the monegasque was expecting. “I should have never made her choose. She was happy with you. So when you go get her back, tell her I’m sorry and that I want her to come home.”

Charles fumbled around with his words. Gesturing wildly with his hands but for some reason his voice was stuck in his throat. Eventually he just nodded his head, attempting to get across his thanks.

Lewis and George were still talking. So he did the only logical thing and tackled then both in a hug. “I need to know where she is. He’s not going to make her choose.” The smile on his face so big it might fall off. “Please tell me where she’s been staying.”

Lewis and George shared a look. One that didn’t go unnoticed. “We need to talk.”

They’d told him about her state. About what she’d been going through. How they found her that morning, alone and so far into her head they didn’t know if she was going to come out.

His heart shattered listening to them. The two were connected deeper then anything he could’ve imagined. He’s upset that he didn’t get the courage to fight for her sooner.

She’d been spending her time since they found her with either if the boys. Neither wanted to leave her alone after that. So they made sure she wasn’t alone after that.

Her apartment was still mildly wrecked but they weren’t worried about it. They just wanted to get her out of her head.

Now he had a chance. They had brought her with them. She didn’t want to come to the track so she was back at the hotel. Tucked away from the world.

Now Charles was speeding to her location. Lewis’ key card in hand. Determination filling his veins. He needed to see her, desperately. His heart ached the last six months. He didn’t want to never see her again. Charles loved her with his entire being.

The trip was a blur for him. Not even realizing he was at the door until he had no more steps left to take.

He decided to knock first. He wanted to be respectful. He’d use the key as his last resort.

He got nervous when the handle turned. What was he going to say? He didn’t have time to think about it as the door swung open. Revealing the love of his life. Still as beautiful as when he last saw her. Though his heart dropped at the sight.

Bags under eyes, her body smaller then he remembered. Then there was the white bandages running up her arms. She was wearing a tank top and sweats, obviously not expecting him to show up.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then the tears started. She was in his arms in a second. Clutching him like he would disappear if she let go.

He breathed her in. “I’m here, I got you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

925 notes · View notes

mxlissaliss · 6 months ago

Text

Happy Mother's Day ft. Hades, Poseidon and Adam (RoR)

Notes: Just some headcanons of your sweet self choosing thoughtful gifts for your momma with the company of your dad, yippee. A bit too long, perhaps.

• That's it, and Happy Mother's Day y'all!

☠️ Hades

-These kinds of events were considerably insignificant for the Gods. They were immortal beings that have existed for eons, entire lifetimes of knowledge and infinite experience.

- Not for Hades, though, because both he and Persephone were so in love with you the moment you were born that, all of a sudden, counting the days started to make sense.

- Every year for Mother's Day, both you and Hades would work together to get Persephone a ton of presents that you knew she'd love.

- However, this year things went a little differently.

- There you were, walking through your private garden, meticulously picking different flowers for a beautiful bouquet you wanted to make for her, going through each one to examine it carefully. Your fingers inspected the petals, their texture, their color, how they smelled… Oh, and that was just a little detail. A servant behind you was carrying at least six bags filled with jewelry, perfumes, sweets and even more flowery gifts for you angel of a mother!

- And guess what, out of all those presents, your father had only chosen two. The rest of the contents inside those bags remained a mystery to him because an emergency meeting delayed his arrival to the shopping spree, and you already had those bags when he made an appearance.

- Speaking of your father, he was standing a few meters away from you, observing from afar. To say that he was shocked would have been an understatement.

- He was FLABBERGASTED because how in all of Helheim did you manage to outthink him when it came to choosing gifts? And for his beloved wife, no less?! Nonsense! He married Persephone eons ago and knew her better than anyone else, he was absolutely sure! So, uh…

- How the hell did you think of all those other gifts?

- Alright, you were as witty and thoughtful as him, that much he knew. His chest would swell with a warm feeling of pride whenever you managed to beat him at a chess game, or hold a discussion about usually difficult-to-talk-about subjects without stuttering at all.

- He also knew that you guys had similar taste for an awful lot of things, such as music, art, colors, decoration, literature, history, and so on. But even so, how could you possibly think so quickly about this huge amount of things for your mother when he couldn't?

- Wait, no, he was not going to act like a competitive idiot with his daughter. After all, he had promised Persephone last night to take her out for a fancy dinner, then an intimate walk through Helheim and, lastly, some fun time alone in their bedchambers.

- Still! Did you get the advantage because he was too focused on his endless workload that he somehow neglected a part of this special day for his beloved? Or was he finally getting old and doomed to be beat from now on by his own youngling?

- Oh, the sheer horror…

“Papaaa, is someone home?” You waved your hand before his eyes with a raised eyebrow, not knowing why your father seemed so out of it for a moment there. That was uncharacteristic of him.

Hades blinked a couple of times and sighed heavily, before cracking his serious expression with a proud smirk that made you smile, “It seems that you have surpassed your old man this year with the presents. Good to see, my child.”

You stared at him for a minute or two, before waving a dismissive hand with slightly colored cheeks, “Oh, no, none of that. You just wrote down the list of gifts for this year and left it unattended on your desk. Cerberus brought it to me last night thinking that it was a list of chores, and I came to realize after reading it that most of your ideas were the same as my own. Crazy, isn't it?”

- Oh, so that was it. He had to laugh loudly at that because it was so simple it became a joke.

- By the time you made it home, Persephone barely had a chance to speak before you jumped straight into her arms, grinning widely.

- Hades followed behind, handing her half of the gifts while you gave her the other half.

- In the end, the majority of the gifts you chose were the same ones he wanted to buy first, which earned you a hearty laugh and some head pats.

- Cerberus, of course, also received his well-deserved snuggles and belly rubs. What a good hellhound.

- While your mother opened her presents in delight, you recalled your father's words earlier today on the way home.

“It seems that we had the same ideas, huh? Well, let's just say that it all came from your wallet this year… Next time, though, it will be my treat.”

🌊 Poseidon

- Mother's Day? Gifts? Dinner date? What the heck were you even saying?

- Your father was known for a lot of things, but if you ever had to list the most important ones, you'd go with: first of all, a very busy man; second, a serious, powerful deity that rules his domain with an iron fist. Never doubts, never stutters and won't ever stand for any kind of bullshit; and third, an a*hole.

- You loved him, you really did, and you knew it was mutual. Out of all his offspring, you were the only one that he openly cared for (Triton also made it into that list, but not nearly as close as you).

- You also knew that he loved Amphitrite despite his apparent inability to show it. It was difficult to understand until you reached a more mature age, but even so, you couldn't help but wonder why out of all his brothers, your father was the worst when it came to being affectionate.

- This God could be so stubborn and irrational sometimes, he immediately declined all the offers you did without time for explanations.

- Nevertheless, all you had to do was use your ridiculously adorable and convincing puppy-dog-eyes to get him to go shopping for gifts with you a day before the occasion.

- The things is, presents have become an almost insignificant thing for your father, and you couldn't blame him for it, in a way.

- Wealthy like no other, feared and respected by every single deity out there, it was tacit that anything and everything would get straight into his hands should he ever ask for it. So… Choosing gifts for Amphitrite was not easy because it probably didn't even cross his mind. He could get her anything she wanted, whenever she wanted, so what was the point of doing it for a specific day?

- On your side, you had very good ideas and got a rather large selection of gifts for your beloved mother. She wasn't all that complicated to please, really. Handmade details and useful presents were her favorite, and you already had those prepared months back in your chambers.

- But your father was having a rather… Difficult time with this entire ordeal. You could say it was almost comical to see him glaring at a necklace made of blue pearls, as if it would burn from his gaze alone.

- Though, more than disgust or contempt, it was a look of condescension.

“Papa,” you approached him with a little smile, trying not to laugh at his expression, “I can tell you're having a hard time choosing something for mom… Need any help?”

- No response, he simply scoffed and turned around, leaving you alone with the servants at the boutique.

- Whatever, you kind of expected a reaction of sorts so you just shrugged it off and continued to look around for more presents. Your mother deserved to be spoiled, and everything was going as planned.

- Except for one little surprise you definitely did not foresee for the night; your father, sitting at his desk with a painfully focused expression as he inserted a new pearl in the thin, delicate and almost invisible silk threads. The gems gleamed with a soft blue light, but they also had this purple tone to them that turned pink at a certain angle. It was so beautiful…

- Wait, was he making a necklace? Ooooh, so that was it. He was glaring at the jewelry earlier today because he thought he could do better than that. Typical move from your tyrant of a father.

- But what made for a truly heartwarming sight was the tiny hint of a smile on his otherwise stoic face when he finished the necklet and held it up against the moonlight that entered through the skylight, and how he made sure to set it down gently inside a small gift-box that he grabbed from a drawer.

- Once again, you simply smiled and quietly leaned against the doorframe, not making a sound as to not disrupt his little moment.

- You immediately knew that your mother was going to be elated to receive a handmade gift from her usually cold husband.

- … Well, even if you knew that he was most likely going to deny the love allegations and hide it all behind a predictable “doing it out of pride and not because he knew that his wife liked handcrafted details” bullshit argument.

- The gift was what mattered, anyways!

🍃 Adam

- Quite the opposite from the other two, your father was even more excited than you at the prospect of Mother's Day.

- He loved Eve so dearly that any excuse to spoil her rotten with riches and gifts was valid. And you thought the same, because your sweet mother deserved it.

- However, Adam always ended up making it feel like a competition, which wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren't for the fact that he's always loved to rub it on your face every time he felt like he won.

- But this year? You wouldn’t let it happen again. You had enough!

- You grabbed your bag, your absurdly long list titled “present ideas for mama Eve A.K.A. Best Mama Ever” and headed out.

- … Welp.

- Time skip to six hours later, you had practically run through almost every single store your could find, and always came out with at least two items.

- Purse? Empty. List? Overdone. Brain? Fried? Blood circulation? Cut short because of all the heavy bags you were carrying. What's it called? Yeah, a successful shopping trip.

- Life was all sparkles, birds chirping and smiles, until…

“What?! You did not just get all of that for your mother!” That was your father's voice, and much to your utter surprise, he was holding lesser amount of items in his own arms (barely two or three bags less than you, actually).

“Papa! Do you need help carrying th-“ you paused, taking a few seconds to process the sight in front of you before an almost wicked smirk formed on your face. “Hah! I win, you old man! Time is up and I got mama the most things!”

- Adam was visibly irked by your mockery, but you were right, time was up because Eve was probably home waiting for the two of you, and taking extra time to get her more stuff would only allow you to go home to her faster. Crap.

- … You guessed right again. A race, which ended up in a tie after you both slammed the front doors open at the same time and with the same intensity (insanity).

“Mama!”

“My love!”

- At the sound of your voices, Eve came downstairs immediately. She was getting ready to go out after Cain and Abel suggested to go out for dinner, to celebrate the special day as a family.

- And oh, how beautiful she looked with her long, blonde hair styled up with soft curls, wearing a mesmerizing emerald green dress, and her angelic smile that always managed to outshine the sun itself.

- Your mother was the most beautiful woman in the universe, and both you and your father sighed contently at the sight of her.

“You are finally home! I was starting to get worried wh- ah!” Before Eve could continue, you shoved a flower bouquet in her arms while Adam quickly stood behind his wife, holding up her hair momentarily to put on a beautiful necklace with a leaf charm on her snow-white neck.

- Just like that, twenty more minutes passed, with you and your father practically burying your mom under her gifts one by one, until she had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The two of you looked so comically concentrated on the gifts that all Eve could was grin warmly while being showered with your gentle (not really) affections.

- The sound of her laugh was enough to snap you out of your little trance, and seeing Eve so happy, overwhelmed with joy, you two finally toned it down a bit.

- In the end, you looked up at your dad and laughed in sync, not caring anymore about your silly little competition. At least, not for the time being. All that mattered was that your mother was happy and ready to enjoy a fancy meal and some quality time in family.

- Next year, though, you were definitely going to crush that old man of yours.

#ror hades #ror poseidon #ror adam #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #shuumatsu no walkure #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #happy mother's day

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kenjakusbrainstem · 1 year ago

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Say Yes (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Contains: Fingering, fisting, Gojo being a tease, cunnilingus.

Kinktober day 17: Fisting! Hey do y'all remember when someone did simp math to see how big Gojo's hands were and they ended up figuring that his fingers were like 6 inches long? I think about that a lot. Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name, shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Comment or rb if you enjoyed or if you think his hands are too big.

Satoru always loved how willing you were to go along with his suggestions in bed. Not only were you compatible, having the same desires as him, but you also were more than eager to try new things. Normally, the two of you would talk it out first. He’d bring something up in a suggestive text or even something unfathomably lewd while you were out at dinner.

Tonight was different, tonight Satoru waited until he was slipping his long fingers inside of your pussy to suggest something. Maybe he was a little drunk, as the sweet strawberry dessert wine you’d brought home had warmed you both up. Satoru didn’t drink often, but his love of sweets and love of you had him wetting his lips with a glass or two. He kissed you as he pressed two fingers into your tight heat.

“I really want to try stretching that sweet pussy of yours tonight, please will you let me?” Satoru whispered against your lips. You already felt like too much of a mess leaking all over him, not to mention the way his fingers slid in so easily. He’d mentioned it before, you thought, wanting to see how far he could stretch you. It was so hard to recall anything with his long fingers crooking just right inside of you.

You nodded, staring up into his bright eyes as he smirked down at you. It was something you’d been hesitant on before, nervous about being pushed to your limits. Satoru would take care of you, you knew that. That didn’t mean you weren’t self conscious. Perhaps the wine had a hand in making you more open to his suggestions.

The feeling of him scissoring two fingers in your pussy made your eyes widen, moan dying against his lips as he kissed you again. Satoru always insisted on taking his time with you, he loved how much of a mess he could make you before he fucked some sense back into you.

“Can you say yes for me? I wanna hear how much you want me,” Satoru said as his lips left yours, moving down to kiss your neck. You weren’t surprised, he never let you stay quiet when you were intimate. Satoru loved to hear every little sound he could pull from you.

You gasped as he slipped a third finger into your pussy, it felt good, almost as good as his cock. It was hard to try and speak when he fingered you like this, even harder when he sucked at your neck like you were one of his favorite sweets. Satoru always did this to you, asking you to answer him and then making it so hard for you to speak.

“Yes please~!,” You said, managing to get out a few words before your voice cracked in pleasure. His nimble fingers pumped in and out of you, stretching you only a little more than his cock normally did.

Satoru’s laugh tickled your throat as he pushed his long fingers further inside of you. He normally didn’t finger you with more than two, it was all he needed to get you ready anyway. So the stretch of three felt like just enough, if he continued like this it wouldn’t be long until you were squirting all over him.

You felt the ridges of his knuckles brushing up against your entrance as he pressed his fingers as far as they could go. Now that his mouth was on your neck, you were free to moan as much as he could make you. Small sounds that went straight to his cock fell from your lips as he continued focusing all of his attention on your pussy.

A whine escaped your throat as his lips left your neck, you were too spoiled by his constant affection that the moment his lips weren’t on you it felt like something was missing.

Satoru’s lips didn’t stay gone for long though, they kissed a wet line down the center of your body, through the valley of your breasts and onto your stomach. He didn’t stop there, continuing on down the line until he was faced with your soaked pussy. His tongue dipped into your folds to circle your clit.

Your moan caught in your throat, a choking sound replacing it. As he started to tease you with his tongue, you felt him slip a fourth finger inside of you. It didn’t hurt, he made sure of that by easing it in slowly, but it did make you feel full. The press of his fingers against your walls was almost too much.

Satoru continued flicking your clit with his tongue, as if he were trying to distract you from the intense feeling of being filled so completely. You could feel your pussy clenching around his fingers, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to pull them in further or push them out. It felt good, the way they twisted and turned inside of you. Rubbing up against your spot, massaging your walls. It’s almost like he was still stretching you.

“This isn’t too much is it? You’re stronger than that right?” Satoru said teasingly. He knew how to push your buttons with words, as if he wasn’t pushing all of your buttons right now by filling you like this.

You tried to answer him, knowing there was a chance he’d stop touching you if you didn’t respond. It was so hard though, you felt so much more overwhelmed than you usually did. His fingers were always so gentle, even buried inside of you it was like you were an instrument he’d spent years perfecting.

“I can, take it!” The words stumbled out of your mouth in incomplete sentences. It was hard enough to think, let alone form sentences. Like his fingers had taken each of your thoughts and tangled them all up in a web of pleasure.

Satoru’s lips returned to your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth. You could feel your thighs shaking, trying not to squeeze his head between them. It felt too good, he was always so good with his tongue, but paired with the way his fingers filled you up you thought you were on the edge of orgasm already.

You felt his fingers start to pull out of you, but just when you started to whine for him to come back, you felt his thumb slipping in alongside them. Your eyes snapping open, you didn’t remember shutting them but at some point you must have. Looking down you saw him, bright eyes staring up at you mischievously. You were transfixed by his eyes, unable to look away as you felt his hand close, turning into a fist before pressing further into your pussy.

It took all of your remaining focus to not slam your legs together and force him away. Somehow, he had worked you open so well that it didn’t hurt, instead feeling like it's where his hand belonged.

Satoru was gentle, thrusting his fist in and out slowly so as to not hurt you. You could feel his knuckles rubbing against your sensitive walls, even rubbing up against your spot. Everything felt so much more intense with his hand inside of you like this.

You knew Satoru had long fingers, his hands were large. So to have his whole hand inside of you made your head spin, you were unable to wrap your head around the thought. Fortunately for you, you didn’t need to think while he played with your pussy. Satoru hadn’t stopped teasing your clit and that paired with the hot stretch inside of you was finally too much for you.

With a loud moan you hit your peak, juices flowing out and leaking around Satoru’s fist and down his wrist. He kept moving, slowly thrusting in and out of you while you ground down on the large hand fully inside of you. You rode out your orgasm as it tore through your body, making you feel like little more than putty in his hands.

Satoru kissed your clit before pulling away to watch his own ministrations. The sight of his whole hand inside of you amazed him, he hadn’t entirely thought you’d be able to take it, even if he was gentle. He was glad to see it payed off, and couldn’t wait to try it again, hoping you’d last longer next time.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojou x reader #satoru gojo #jjk x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #jjk #jjk smut #gojo x reader

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killuintense · 1 year ago

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❝ see you, leon ❞

rookie!leon x fem!reader.

Warning: first part, second part.

summary: for Leon wasn't being enough to have you in secret, if it were up to him, he would love you in front of the whole world.

content: 4.3k words, fluff, semi-established relationship, cute and needy Leon, possessive and capricious Leon, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, mention of oral sex (m and f receiving), carefree home moments, pet names.

note: finally the last part of this fic that i loved writing so much, i was really surprised to see everyone who asked me to continue. Thank you very much for that ♡ now i hope you enjoy it and see you in other one shots or fics ♡ i love y'all :p

You could list as many things as you needed to about leon, about how attentive he was, the bad jokes he could tell, how much he would curse when something scared him or his work didn't go as he expected. You loved those little moments you spent with him where there could only be complicit glances and low touches, soft and innocent caresses that made your day less horrible. That month and a half that had passed had given you the opportunity to get to know him, to understand him and to like him more and more. Sometimes you even got scared counting the number of times you thought about him. When you walked through the center of the city and you saw a coffee shop and it reminded you of the horrible coffees that leon prepared, but you drank them anyway because, from your point of view, they were the most delicious in the world; or when you passed by a store and you saw a teddy bear and you thought of him, being someone soft, silly and a little rough, but always trying to help others like the angel he was. But most of all with you.

Things had really become a lot more intimate between you in those weeks. Not just intimate in the sexual sense of the word, but rather that intimacy that only the two of you understood, where with looks you told each other everything you wanted without needing to talk, where you laughed at the same meaningless things, where you had your own special words and moments. Like when he would tell you that thanks to him and his contributions they managed to discover one more clue in that investigation that was taking place in the police department, and you would congratulate him saying 'that's my cute pookie patootie' and he would get upset, but deep inside his heart would jump and he would feel warm. Or like when you were stressed out about final exams and he would take you for a ride in the squad car to take your mind off things, telling funny and embarrassing anecdotes from his time at the police academy.

"Seriously! Major Krauser was the worst, he told me that if I didn't manage to run 20 times all over the training field without stopping he would make me walk around the rooms naked" your face was flushed and your cheeks hot, remembering that angrily as you drove through that starry night. Your laughter, however, meant that that experience had not been in vain, now I could hear that melody coming from your lips, while your hands clenched your stomach and you denied asking me to stop.

"God, Lee, I'm really sorry but it's too much" you laughed again, wiping away those tears that the laughter had caused you, while you brought your hand to his cheek and caressed him gently. "I'm thankful that hadn't happened to you, you'd be even more traumatized" you joked, watching as he stuck his tongue out at you in mock anger and kept driving. You didn't know where he was going, but just feeling the breeze on your face, his voice and his beautiful, steady chatter made you forget about your worries, about what was overtaking you.

You had taken a special liking to each other. Leon seemed to have a little angel by his side every time he saw you, every time he referred to you with that proud smile that someone as beautiful and special as you were was paying attention to him. He noticed how all your attention went to him when he talked to you, how you analyzed the little details to help him every time you could.

Now you seemed to spend more time at the police station and had even started helping with the paperwork, almost as an excuse to keep seeing Leon and to 'spend more time with your father', even though you hardly saw him. And Leon couldn't have been more excited at the thought of seeing you going back and forth with the paperwork, handing it to him in an orderly fashion that relieved him of his work, or when you met in the break room and talked excitedly about the finished paperwork. You brought joy into his life and he felt he was lost because of you, because of your presence that filled him with an inexplicable and suffocating love. It suffocated him to know that at the university there were other guys who talked to you, that when you went out you were in danger of anything happening to you and you wouldn't come back, when you had attentions with some other cadet at the police station and you ordered their papers or offered coffee to them instead of him. It drove him crazy that others didn't know about the times you kissed or hid in each other's arms, giving out suggestive caresses without anyone noticing. He needed you to walk around with a sign on your chest that said 'property of Leon Kennedy' for them to stay away from you immediately.

And that itself was one of the things you loved most about Leon. On the outside he always seemed so helpful, kind and shy with other people, and with you he was no less, always being a gentleman who sought to court you and be helpful to you at all times. But he was not always so innocent. Especially when they were hugging, almost as gentle as ever, and he would run his hands curiously down your waist to your bottom, caressing and squeezing it. You always scolded him, but you didn't pull away, you even seemed to move closer to his touch, and even though they soon had to stop because there were people going all over the station, he took advantage of every second to hold your body in his hands by heart.

In fact, they had continued with their slightly over the top approaches. Shit, you couldn't lie but that man was addicted to eating you. Every chance he got he stroked you just enough leaving you wet and ready to have you in his mouth, making you moan his name over and over again as he held you gently and his tongue rammed into you with a desperation that drove you to orgasm. He was so needy. And you were so addicted to seeing him need you, sometimes he didn't say it, but he loved how you sought to suck him off wherever you were. You remembered that time when he shyly wanted to reproach you about the guy who kept you five minutes too long in college to talk to you, and he was sure it was to flirt with you.

"Yeah, sure, I'm sure it was to talk about homework..." he mentioned sarcastically, you could tell he was saying it almost like a tantrum, turning his gaze from you as if that little scene could get you to pay attention to him alone. He loved your attention and thirsted for it whenever he could, so he softened further when you grabbed his jacket sleeve and gently tugged, giving him a playful giggle.

"Lee..." you were getting closer and closer, and you knew it was quite dangerous considering that you were in the corner of an empty room at the university, where you had brought him to talk because of that cutting behavior he had taken out of nowhere "Don't be mad at me, baby" you felt him gasp at that nickname, looking at you with his mouth shining from licking his lips, hungry for you. You kissed in a way that you felt his hands squeeze your hips and making you almost unintentionally feel the bulge in his pants. And you always loved to spoil him, to make him feel good. You loved to feel the way his legs trembled and he controlled himself not to cum the second you put him in your mouth, like in that moment, where he pushed his cock again and again against your throat "I love to fuck ya throat, damn it's so deep" he whimpered under his breath saying how good you made him feel, that he wanted you all to himself, that your attention should be his alone. He would always cum so desperately, take your hair between his fingers and stretch deeper inside you to the point where the hangings would begin. But it felt so good that you ignored him and chased his orgasm to have your reward; his essence so hot and thick in your throat filling you mercilessly.

Then he would become the most sensitive and cute little thing, as if there was nothing left of that uncontrolled Leon, almost fainting in your arms when he calmed down and you hugged him "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." his chest would move frenetically and he would stroke your hair, soothing the tight pain his fingers had left earlier; but you loved him, you loved that every tiny touch of him remained on your skin reminding you how good he could make you feel. But you always laughed and reminded him that you had ruined his hair that morning too, choking him between your thighs as he ate you hungrily, moaning against you, so wet and weeping for his tongue. You needed each other more and more, those touches and caresses weren't enough, having each other's mouths was intoxicating but it didn't make you drunk. They needed more.

You left Leon's bed lazily. You wore Leon's shirt, it was loose fitting and fit you like a short dress, filling you with the warmth of his scent as you grinned like a fool as you made your way to the kitchen. Both had been resting all that Saturday, your father had left town for work and you were able to sneak away with Leon to his house for the weekend. You were sure that your father would murder Leon if he found out about it, but in his own words, he would be willing to take that chance.

You headed towards the kitchen with curiosity while observing everything, laughing under your breath; there were things placed in an almost clumsy way, like the plates tilted in an uncomfortable area of the cabinet, or the glasses too far away from your reach. It made you tender to realize that it was obvious that he lived alone. And that really had been the best morning of your life. Waking up and seeing your boy slumped on the pillow with incomparable tranquility, breathing heavily as his arms tightened around your waist and his curves melted into the softness of the sheets. The skin of his bare upper torso, his broad back and full of small freckles and moles being illuminated by the morning sun was a blessing. The bed smelled of him; that masculine yet clean scent that Leon had, that you could swear was very similar to the perfume of a rose, mingling with your sweet scent that you soon let permeate making his sleep deeper than ever.

"Up so early?" you heard his husky voice and a soft yawn, bringing you out of your thoughts with a small start as you cursed for being startled. You turned around with a frown ready to scold him but your voice caught in your throat when you saw him with that facade he had when he first woke up. His blond hair was slightly tousled to one side, and although it wasn't very long it fit the contours of his face perfectly. He had a wonderful body, he wasn't exactly a skinny boy, he had everything in place and with a volume that made you want to squeeze and bite him. His abdomen smoothly marked by the training at the police academy and the V-shape that was made into a light trail of hair that took you to travel beyond his pajama pants. You swore that if it weren't for his drowsy state, he'd see you drooling like a fool.

"God, you scared me" you laughed, and after feeling your face warm from your recent thoughts, you turned your back to him and started heating water to pour coffee for both of you. Leon laughed and walked over to you to hug your back, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was wonderful how his muscles seemed to squeeze you tight enough, sharing that characteristic warmth with you.

"I didn't know you'd look so good in my shirt in the morning" his voice was drowned out by having his mouth sink into your neck, leaving soft kisses that caused you to melt like chocolate in the sun. He had no mercy for you.

"Kennedy, hands where I can see them, it's too early" you joked turning to kiss him. You couldn't resist him and his loving touches, his hands seeking to reassure you that you were there and not somewhere else, with someone else. Your mouths joined in a synchronized but awkward dance, both wanting to own each other. However, you decided to pass him the coffee cup before the kiss went to the next level, hearing a moan from him.

"You know you can't escape my kisses forever, don't you?" he raised both eyebrows and bumped his cup with yours in a playful toast-like fashion, stealing a soft chuckle from you. You loved that even just waking up he was like that with you, as honeyed and gooey as a jar of natural honey. So cloying that it forced you to pinch his cheeks in an attempt not to explode with love.

That day you acted like a couple who hadn't touched each other for months. Endless kisses, caresses here and there, and hugs where more than once you fell asleep in the tranquility of his arms. They had watched dozens of movies and eaten popcorn and chocolates like two bears hibernating under the warmth of blankets. They joked constantly and wouldn't stop chattering in the middle of the film, throwing out sarcastic comments and complaining about 'how bad horror movies were these days'. And you couldn't blame Leon, a young man from the nineties who grew up on eighties horror and you a lover of the classics, it seemed almost like fate.

However, at one point you both seemed to start ignoring the movies and put the snacks aside. That little kiss that had started as a simple token of affection ended up turning into a hungry kiss where the lion's hands traveled all over your body with curiosity. Both were aware that they didn't want to live from each other's mouth anymore and that they needed another kind of approach, but you couldn't avoid feeling exalted by the whole situation; it was the first time that things went too far and, although a little shy, both looked at each other with complicity when the hands needed to move away all possible clothes, being an annoying obstacle in the way. At that moment, knowing that they both wanted the same thing, the embarrassment took a back seat and noises began to emerge from both of them; soft gasps and meaningless words as they ran their mouths over each other's skin, exploring every nook and cranny.

In a moment, almost without realizing it, you were completely naked. Your clothes in the corner of the bed while your hand clung to Leon's shoulders and he groaned between your legs as his tongue plunged so deep into you that you felt like you were about to faint "Mhm..." a moan of pleasure escaped the blond's lips, his nose brushing against your throbbing clit while his free hand stroked himself hard and dripping.

"Leon, Leon-" a loud moan came from your lips as he inserted two fingers at the same time as he sucked your folds and abused them with his saliva mixed with your juices, he seemed to savor you as if it were his favorite food, as if eating you was his favorite activity in the world "Put it in, please..." your hands clutched at the sheets as you curved your back, completely stimulated at the slightest touch. Leon came out from his hiding place between your thighs and without stopping his fingered thrusts looked up at you in surprise.

"Are you sure...?" you wanted to laugh at that moment, feeling tender at the pathos of the situation. He was asking you that? they were both completely naked and from your position you could see his glans as red as it was wet, covered in precum that made you want to suck him right there. But, however, if it was because you didn't want to, Leon would ignore all that and stop, because you were his priority.

"Leon!" you scolded him trying to get a moan to stay in your throat, but you exposed yourself too much and his fingers touched your favorite spot again, making you moan loudly and collapse on the bed again, biting your bottom lip "Stick your fuckin' cock in me or I'll kill you" you bellowed as he laughed, gently pulling his fingers out. You reached for him desperately, feeling that unbearable emptiness you needed to fill with him. He looked so eager, you could see him twitching in desperation wanting to enter you, wanting to bury himself mercilessly. That's exactly why the blond couldn't take much more, and soon you felt his face hide in your neck and he slipped in with a slowness that made you see stars. It was thick and wet, hot, and you squeezed it with such precision that you soon heard it whimper in your ear, while your eyes tried to stay focused and not give way to tears of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck..." he moaned, you felt him start to move, taking your hips hard as you felt his body stiffen on top of you; knowing him you knew he was taking all his desire to ram into you madly just so you could get used to him "You're so tight, so hot, I just...." he bit his lower lip and you sought his mouth to fill it with your tongue, kissing him messily and angrily, you were completely gone in the way you felt him growing in your belly.

"You're so thick, so hard, fuck me, fuck me!" you moaned in the middle of the kiss, you stirred your hips eagerly and Leon didn't take long to take you firmly to pull out completely and then back in. You both moaned in unison at that action. You scratched his back so hard that your punishment was to feel him thrust into you, hitting your womb with brutality. And he seemed so soft, sweet and innocent, but at that moment he seemed to be too high on your pussy.

"You're mine, you pussy it's mine, fuck, tell me yes, tell me you're mine" he moaned in groans, the back of the bed banging against the wall, making a noise that you hoped the neighbors wouldn't mind so much. But at that moment all you were interested in was that he kept up that ferocious rhythm, ripping curses from your throat as he whispered incoherently about how much he loved to fuck you. "I'll fill you up for days, baby, I'll make you walk around in pain so everyone knows I fucked you good at night, don't you want that, my girl?" he growled under his breath, feeling his abdomen contract and the tip of his dick pounding you faster, messier, perfectly about to cum.

"Yes! Fuck yes, yes, harder!" you moaned in a sob as you hugged him and felt his face sink into your tits with devotion as he bit them, sucked them, and made a mess of your skin. Between the thrusts, so erratic, so strong, mixed with his fingers pressing against your swollen clitoris, your vision went dark as you felt one last thrust and the hand Leon held on your hip dug his fingers in and tore a pathetic moan from his lips, accompanied by your name. You embraced him with your choking orgasm as spurts and spurts of cum deposited inside you, he seemed to cum so much that you felt full, hot. You were so wet around him that you felt that soon his dripping seed would spurt from inside you to stain the sheets beneath you. But Leon stayed inside you warily, wanting to live there if possible; loving the sensation of having you tied to him somehow, that somehow such a primal part of him was filling you at that very moment causing you to still be moaning under him while he could barely regulate his breathing.

"I'm sorry, I cum too much... I'm sorry..." his face sunk into your chest as he barely regularized, and you soothed him with caresses in his hair, laughing softly once the tranquility of that blow that gave you the orgasm, finally appeared. "I'm going to clean you up, just let me..." he was going to pull away but you prevented it by pressing his face against your tits, making him sink there. He didn't seem to object, staying like a scolded but pleased puppy in that hot and comfortable area of your body.

"I need you with me, just… stay," you asked him in a breath. Leon gently stepped out from where he was, looking at you as he smiled and nodded like a happy child. He gave you a soft kiss and made himself more comfortable next to you, still not coming out from inside you. You could almost swear you were starting to feel him hard again, but in return he left soft caresses in your hair as he laughed at the sight of you almost falling asleep in his arms. His arms that were your safe place.

"I love you."

You looked to your side as you stopped checking your notebook and paid attention to him. Leon was red as a tomato and staring at the ceiling, his police uniform resting against his body, just like the first day you saw him. You felt like it was yesterday, that you saw him enter naively not knowing that you would be transformed into his desire to live every day, his desire to love someone, to desire each other with someone. He was naive not knowing that the young woman he had seen in the distance would become his friend, his companion, his lover.

"I know... I know it's silly to say it now, to say it like this but it's not easy to see you just exist and feel like my chest is going to explode, you know? I need to tell you... I love you so much that I can't stand my shame to know that someone like you noticed someone like me" he confessed. There was nothing about that awkward, awkward young man with the words and, though you didn't know it, it had been the most spontaneous sentence he had said in years. He didn't think it, he just felt it and said it. Like a love impulse, which encouraged him to improve day by day. You were his love.

"I guess I was never good at hiding that I love you..." you laughed, turning your whole body towards him as your hand gently caressed his cheek. It was a habit between the two of you, you held his face in the softness of your hands and he closed his eyes; he forgot everything for a few seconds. And yet now you could see a look of love so deep that almost for a moment you felt that tears would threaten to escape. "I love you more than you can imagine, Leon" the sincerity in that whisper, where only you and he understood each other was enough. He kissed your hand and placed his own against it, caressing it, making sure that under no circumstances would you pull away.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend...?" his gaze was on yours and although he tried to look calm and confident, a glint of fear was visible in that sea of blue his eyes formed. And you felt that you had an angel in your care, an angel that was watching over you but at the same time he was looking for you to take care of him, to accept to take care of his little hurt and abandoned heart. Leon was alone in life. He had only you, and you caressed his soul at every moment, with every word, taking care of him from bad dreams and bad thoughts, being his confidant every day.

"You know I'd be a fool to refuse" you laughed, leaving a soft little Eskimo kiss as you bit your lower lip, seriously holding back the urge to cry. It was the first time you felt the need to cry for love; for a healthy, mutual love, for a love that gave as well as received and was reciprocal in every way. "I want to be yours for life" you murmured, your lips glued to hers "because I love you more than my heart can bear."

"Thank you..." you felt his voice break softly, and you held him, held his face with love just as you held him every day with your love "Thank you for making me the happiest man in this world" he planted a kiss on your lips. As sincere and soft as the breeze coming through the window, with the sun going down in the sunset orange sky with purple sparkles. A sky that witnessed a love corresponding and belonging to each other, two lovers in love with a heart to give.

Because if Leon had you, and you had him, you would never need to say goodbye to him again. Because if you had him, in your heart you would always welcome his love, like the first time you saw him.

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low-budget-korra · 9 months ago

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Comments on Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender

*spoiler alert*

First of all I'm gonna start by saying it is one of the best adaptations I've seen so far. And that's the key word, adaptation. I've seen a lot of fans and others complain about some things that honestly, doesn't make sense because some things only work in a cartoon(just as much as some things only work in a book or a video game)

And before I start to talk about some topics that I judge important, I also wanna say that the production is fantastic, from the costumes to the CGI. It all looks amazing. (A part from Yue's wig)

1. The Script

It's not easy to pick 20+ episodes and make it fit in only 8 but damn they did a hell of a good job, especially when judging what was important to show and what they could let it go. Some fans commented that since there's no fillers, the Gaang and others miss some development but I think that for the universe of the live action what we got here it worked.

I can express how much I like to see Ozai and Azula's relationship and how it is now clear that he uses the siblings against each other, manipulating them to get what he wants. But I will admit I miss the fear Azula had, since it's implied in the show and some extras that she does fear Ozai, and fears becoming like Zuko.

I hope the 41. Is just fine after the battle in the north. See all of them bowing to Zuko after discovering that Zuko was the one that saved their asses and was heavily punished by that...it was beautiful. I loved the writers did that, give names and faces to Zuko's crew and a beautiful yet sad arc when Ozai banished his son and the men who he saved.

I also loved that they put weight into things that was treated as a joke, like Katara talking about her mother. She was a little kid who saw her mom get murdered in front of her and the live action made sure to let us know that it is not okay to make jokes about something so traumatic. All of the deaths here have tons of weight in it, it's not some random person, is someone we met, someone we liked, someone who helped. The costs of the war, something the cartoon manages to show us but know in live action, with real people, the massage gets stronger.

And they didn't forget Iroh's past like the fandom does, which is great. That actor, the earthbending soldier really let it all out, that's how you use the few screentime you have.

Sokka's isn't sexist and y'all were making a storm outta a cup of water, is not like Sokka sexist didn't go away after like the 4 or 5 episode in the original show. I think the live action was able to bring more depth to him in comparison to the first season of the cartoon. We see how he feels about his father's, the absence of him and his duty as warrior who kinda doesn't want to be a warrior.

I need a Gyatso in my life, I didn't know I needed to see more of him until the live action gave us more of him. Kyoshi was the Thor coming to Wakanda from this season, WHY THE FUCK BRYKE DONT WANNA GIVE US A KYOSHI SERIES? She is absolutely a jewel of a character. Roku and Kuruk, damn poor Kuruk man, so much pain in his words but again that's what it means to be the Avatar, it's not fun and games. Zhao saying to Aang what Korra villains said to Korra😭 that the world doesn't need the Avatar anymore, it hurt.

Guys I'm gonna say it, there's no way in hell for anyone to ship Kataang here. I'm saying this because some shippers complain that the secret tunnel part was different but c'mon, look at Kiawentiio and look at Gordon, it would be so s awkward and weird and just wrong. I know they don't have a big age difference, is only like 3 years but when they filmed Gordon looked so much younger than her, maybe in the next seasons the difference won't be that big.

The pace is good, once you start you don't wanna stop.

2. The Acting

Everyone is really good at capturing the essence of it's characters and somewhat making them their own. The highlights for me were Dallas and Ian, Its like they came straight from the show. Ken Leung's Zhao was also amazing as he was way more threatening here than he was in the show.

Kiawentiio was the Katara we were looking for, she is kind yet strong, brave and caring. And Gordon was Aang, sure, he has to learn a few things since he slipped a few times in his acting but nothing that could ruin the experience, that kid is good and just needs some experience.

Elizabeth Yu was Azula. It was different but yet the same character, is like learning something new of her and I like how cleared she show emotions with her eyes. Maria Zhang had great chemistry with Ian and I can't wait to see more of Suki. Arden Cho and Yvonne Chapman as June and Avatar Kyoshi look like they came out straight from the cartoon. Daniel Dae Kim...man is Ozai, so cold, so sharp, so scary, already way better than the cartoon version. I wanna see more of Paul Sun-Hyung Lee as Iroh since the character he really starts to shine in book 2.

3. The live action doesn't have the spirit of the OG?

Yes, it does have. The thing is now that we are seeing real people, things get dark one way or another but I don't think it ruined the spirit of the show. Aang is still a kid, Sokka still making sarcastic jokes, Zuko still annoying as hell, Katara still hopeful and strong... There's everything there really.

The thing is stuff like genocide, murder, war, death and suffering are, for some people, better to watch as pixels in a cartoon than real people.

I think it's a great adaptation and I would recommend it to every fan.

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outofmydepthatapublicbeach · 8 months ago

Text

the confession- Julien Baker x lacy!reader

jj chats: y'all it is finally here. i would like to personally thank who ever first requested the jb x lacy!reader storyline!!! it has been so much fun to write these past few weeks. i think they'll be one more part after this, but maybe more if requested.

i love this couple so much so if you want certain scenarios with them please dm me or lmk!!!

part 1: linked

part 2: linked

part 3: linked

word count: around 2200 words i believe

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, pet names (princess), lots of cursing!!, argument,

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

You stormed into your tour bus, smashing the door behind you. You thanked God that no one was on your bus because you knew as soon as the door closed that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying. You were so confused and frustrated.

Why did Julien hate you so much?

Why did she never want to talk to you?

Why couldn’t you just get along?

The truth was that ever since the first time you met Julien Baker, you were enthralled by her. Her presence commanded respect, her songs were soul-crushing in the best way possible, and it didn’t help that she was gorgeous. You wanted to be her friend(or more than her friend) so bad you must have done something wrong, something to irk her when you first met. Because why else would she continue to hate you so?

Julien was addicting, as much as you knew she didn’t like you, as much as she made it alarmingly clear, you kept going back to her, trying to win her over, trying to make her laugh. As you paced around your trailer your heart started to ache, and a feeling of unease overcame your senses. You tried to put a name to this feeling, yet all you could think of was how you felt like an out-of-tune guitar sounded.

You rushed over to your sink, turned on the faucet, and collected a palm full of freezing water, then threw it all over your face. The cold rush felt like little daggers impaling your skin a dozen times over, but it was just what you needed. Something to direct you back to your senses, something that, momentarily: made you forget about the woman you were beguiled with. It also helped grant you a moment of respite from the scorching heat of the day.

You stood in front of the sink for a few minutes, trying to collect yourself before leaving the trailer to meet up with the others for your annual after-concert dinner. That was until you heard a series of rapid knocks at your door. Your head quickly turned in its direction, eyes widening. You took in a deep breath before grabbing a towel and wiping off your face in one clean swoop. You approached the door, hand resting on the knob before pulling it toward you.

If someone had asked who was standing there facing you, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them. Even though your mind chanted her name over and over again, as if you were being hypnotized by her indubitable beauty, you were not able to speak her name.

“(Y/N), we need to talk.” She spoke. It was then you noticed her button-up had been unbuttoned a little more since the last time you saw her. Her cheeks were redder, her knuckles white as they were made into tight fists. Even her hair was a little messier. None of this made it easier for you to speak, yet you managed to get 2 words out.

“Please leave,” the words came sprawling out your mouth before you even had a chance to think, and your arms reacted before your brain could tell them to stay still. You slammed the door in her face. Standing there still, you leaned your head against the door, trying to regain your composure.

On the other side, you heard Julien groan before calling out “Just open the door, we need to talk!”

On instinct you opened the door again, Julien’s face was red, flushed with anger. Before you even had a chance to think she stepped into your trailer, closing the door behind her. She started to pace around, not looking at you.

“What the hell Julien?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Julien turned around to face you, her eyes piercing into yours. “What do you mean ‘what the hell?’”

“You stormed into my tour bus? I have every right to be pissed!”

Julien scoffed, then mumbled something you could barely hear.

“What was that?” You asked, voice laced with angst.

“I said, you are such a hypocrite!” Julien was fuming, “You call me out for acting weird around you when you act weird around me too!”

You were taken aback by her sentence, you shot out a quick “What the hell are you talking about?”

Julien took a step towards you, “Do you think I don’t notice how all the damn time you are just a bundle of sunshine,” she threw her hands in the air, “How perfect you try to act around me?”

“Julien-”

“No! Let me finish! You offer me help, you never say a bad thing about anyone around me, you’re so fucking nice it's driving me insane!”

“Have you ever thought that maybe I am a naturally nice fucking person? That I’m not acting a part around you?”

Julien scoffed, “Nobody is that perfect (Y/N).”

“I never said I was!” You countered back.

Julien moved her fingers towards her temple, massaging the skin on the bridge of her nose. “Ugh God don’t lie!”

“Why are you making me out to be the bad guy here?” You asked head tilted to the side.

“I am not, you're digging yourself your own little perfect ditch,” Julien smirked, proud of herself for her comment.

Groaning you said, “God why won’t you stop it with that?”

Again with a smirk: “What, something bothering the perfect little princess?”

“Julien maybe if you opened your goddamn eyes you’d see you fucked up your logic is right now.” You took a step away, hand flying to grab the countertop.

“My logic is perfectly fine, princess,”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled.

Julien huffed out, “Stop being so perfect!”

“I am not perfect!” You snarled.

Julien was frustrated, “You are infuriating, you know that?”

The laugh that left your lips was one of confusion and anger, its message clear. “Why are you so mad? You seemed fine ignoring me a couple of hours ago!”

“Why am I mad? Why am I mad?” Julien breathed out, if this were a cartoon you would have seen smoke pouring out her ears.

You looked at her disgruntled, “Yes Julien! Why are you mad? I have been nothing but kind to you, and yet you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you.” Julien snapped

A scoff left your lips and then “Then what is it?”

“I love you!” All of a sudden the world went quiet. Julien's face whitened, your grasp on the counter wavered and you felt your stomach sink.

“What?” You asked for the comparison from your voice but 10 seconds ago varied so much to the volume it was at now.

Julien looked at you, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

You could feel the anger you held dissipate when you took in Julien’s deflated form. You started to reach out to her, “Julien-” She cut you off by walking towards your trailer door, ready to leave. Instead of letting her walk away, you ran after her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from the door.

Julien looked into your eyes, her own filling with tears. You had no clue what was going through her mind at that moment but you could tell she was extremely upset. “(Y/N) I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,”

Quickly your hand moved into her hand, squeezing lightly. “Shhh, you didn’t. I swear, it’s just-” You stopped talking, feeling anxious when you looked into Julien’s eyes, her gaze was potent.

Julien tilted her head confused at your sudden stop “Just?”

You looked at her, and swallowed the lump in your throat. In a hushed tone, you asked “Why did you say that?”

Julien looked between your eyes and then pulled you to a couch, sitting you both down. She sighed before saying “Because it’s the truth.” Her features held a fear, fear that you would reject her.

“You love… me?” Your question came out in a whisper. You were desperate for the answer.

Julien laughed a bit as if your question was funny. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?” You asked, straightening your back. Your brain worked overtime, trying to come up with a reason as to why she would say this to you, you couldn’t believe these words were anything but a fabrication meant to cause you more heartbreak.

Julien scoffed at your question, “Why? Are you kidding me?”

You shook your head.

Julien looked at you, confused “Because you’re you! You’re kind and you’re funny, and you just like saved a random girl's life tonight because you could!-”

“I didn’t save her life she was just a little dehydra-”

Julien moved her index finger out to your face, resting it on your lips. Immediately you shut up. She continued “You are infuriating, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I know I’ve been shitty recently, but I- I don’t have a good excuse. The best I could come up with was that I was scared of falling for you. I mean- God- look at you! You’re perfect! And I’m me!-”

“-Julien-” you started to speak but were cut off again by the tattooed woman in front of you.

“-And I thought there was no way someone like you could ever love someone like me. So I tried to push my feelings down and I ended up hurting you in the process and I am so sorry. So I completely understand if you hate me and want me to leave. I just- I guess I just wanted to tell you that I- that I- that I love you.” Julien stuttered, her nerves getting the better of her. “I should probably just leave now, again I am so sor-”

“Julien if you say sorry one more time!” Cutting her off she looked at you with shock, terrified of your response. She had just laid her heart out to you on a platter. Now it was your decision to keep it safe and treat it like a prize, or throw it away like a piece of junk. “Julien, if you would just stop talking for one minute, please. I need to say something.”

Julien nodded at you, you had almost forgotten her hand was in yours, the feeling felt so right, so familiar. “Do you not think you infuriate me as well? Why do you think I keep coming back to you? I want you. I feel like I need you to breathe.” You let every thought in your head out and watched as Julien’s face morphed from scared to confused. “It pains me to hear you say you feel like I could never love you. Please stop saying that, it-it hurts.” You paused again, waiting for an indication of what was going through Julien’s head. She looked at you, eyes wide like a deer caught in the middle of the road. Again, you found your voice and added “Because I do. I do love you. Possibly even more than you love me.”

Julien’s eyes finally had a look of relief on them, her shoulders slumped a bit as she lowered her head, a tear falling down her cheek. She took a deep breath before looking up at you, a smile growing on her face as she said, “I don’t think that is possible.”

Cocking your head you stared at her blankly, uttering a “What?”

Julien’s demeanor changed from crying to cocky as she said“There's no way you could love me more than I love you.” Julien said with a smirk.

You could feel your heart swell, you felt like you were high on adrenaline, just beyond confused yet excited at how the night had led to this. You and Julien, sitting together, hands interlocked and faces just inches from each other. “Really? Because I can prove it.” You smirked back, your body felt electric like you could do anything.

“I’d like to see that.” Julien giggled, squeezing your hand.

“I bet you would, Jay.” you smiled

You heard a sharp inhale from Julien after you spoke her nickname, and in an instant Julien's demeanor changed, and like magnets her lips connected with yours. Your hands moved to grasp Julien’s cheek and upper arm, feeling her warm skin beneath your fingers. You could feel her soft lips intertwined with yours, brushing past each other. And when you pulled away you rested your foreheads together, catching your breath.

“Thank you,” you heard Julien whisper, her breath fanning against your lips.

Bewildered, you pull away from Julien, looking at her confusedly, “Huh? What for?”

“For proving that you are perfect,” Julien’s face wrinkles up as she smiles wide. She’s glowing and you think to yourself, if anyone is perfect…it's Julien.

“Awww Jay, stop!” you playfully frown at her, however, your face turns as red as a strawberry at Julien’s blatant compliment.

Julien shakes her head at you before muttering out 5 infuriating words “Never in a million years,” She pauses and then smirks again, “Princess.” You scoff and roll your eyes at her as she pulls you into her again. Hands running up and down your arms.

As you ease into her touch you can only think of how this

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