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miguelsslvt · 1 year ago

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miguel o'hara x goth girl! spider! reader smut drabble

word count: 756

TW: nsfw, smut, overstimulation, y/n gets fucked dumb, creampie, fingering, spanish translated from google translate so it isn't very good i'm so sorry. and also it isn't exactly stated that y/n is 'goth', it's literally just heer style and i hate it sm that i write it like that i'm so sorry.

A/N: so basically i got requested to do a college au! goth girl x reader but i didn’t read the ‘college’ bit and i got a bit carried away so… here’s the shitty goth spider! reader whilst i try writing the college au!! anyways two posts in one night?? ahh! this is severely unedited and not even proofread, so i hope i did okay! i can always rewrite if you don't like it:). also i love doing requests so much, so pls give me more! welcome to the club! ^^

you were a smart girl. well, smart enough to notice the looks miguel gave you everytime you walked around spider society wearing your favourite black dress and fishnets. and you would be lying to yourself if you said the attention didn't make your legs tighten in anticipation.

you had your eyes on miguel since the first time you laid eyes on him when he recruited you. was it your everlasting hunger for male validation? maybe. was it the way his fingers flicked through tab to tab on his platform? most likely. was it the hunger you noticed in his eyes when he trailed his eyes along your figure? absolutely. that's why on the day you were supposed to come to miguel for 'monthly anomaly reports', you made sure to wear the short black skirt and fishnets you knew that would miguel drool. what? just because you were pretty didn't mean you were stupid.

after a beautiful walk around the graveyard near your home, placing some flowers on some empty graves, you decided to go back to the spider HQ, playing your favourite band, 'bauhaus'.

'spider goth. miguel would like you in his office.' your watch alarmed, as your smiled at lyla, nodding. before you walked into the office room, you made sure to fix your eyeliner so it didn't look too 'smoky' but smoky enough. you fixed your silver necklaces in place, as you walked in. 'yes miguel?'

fuck, that voice. miguel thought. he turned around slightly to take in your body. god, he could feel his dick twitch from just the sight of you. was it even normal to feel this way? 'sir? you seem a little.. distracted.' you said, tilting your head slightly. he smirked. if miguel was completely honest, he knew you knew how he felt about you. and the fact that you still continue to wear such provocative clothing around him, and the fact that you always give him that 'innocent' smile of yours was enough for him to know you enjoyed the attention.

'oh i think we both know why i'm distracted, spider goth-' 'y/n.' you cut him off. he seemed a bit taken aback. 'excuse me?' he asked. 'for you, it's y/n, sir.' you replied, walking up to his platform, your skirt riding up slightly as you sat on his desk.

god, he could take you right there. so he did.

✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩

'm-miguel!~' you moaned, eyes rolling back as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. your back was arched against the desk, as his hands held your hips roughly. your eyeliner and makeup was ruined, all over your cheeks as they were filled with tears. your fishnets were ruined, as your skirt was hitched up just above your ass, as miguel groaned in relief.

'god you don't know how long i've wanted this.. mi niña bonita~' he cooed, smirking as you gasped for air, holding onto the desk. (my pretty girl)

you had lost count on how many times miguel made you cum in just one hour, but right now you couldn't care. your legs were numb, mind was fuzzy and you could swear you were seeing stars. you fucked out dizzy expression urged miguel further, chasing both of your highs.

'g-god m-miguel g-gonna c-cum again..!' you moaned loudly, as miguel leaned closer to your ear, moving your jaw so he could see your dumb face.

you were drooling, crying, your hair and makeup was a mess. and mguel didn't think you could get any more prettier then this. god, and the way you clenched and gaped around him made him cum almost instantly. but he would wait. 'cum for me, that's it.. jodido tan tonto que ni siquiera puedes pensar, ¿verdad?' he teased, as he thrusts became sloppy once again. (fucked so dumb you can't even think, right?)

you reached you peak, letting out a loud gasp, as miguel held your jaw,his nose in your neck as he whispered to you. 'thaat's it.. that's my girl.. there you go..' he praised, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible as he let his load in you.

it was alot, as you came down from your high, panting for air. miguel groaned as he pulled out, leaving a string of his cum and your juices out. he just let a deep breath, tutting. 'ay.. no.. mi dulce chica.. you're supposed you keep it inside. looks like i'm gonna have to plug it back in.' miguel said, sticking his finger inside you, making you squeal in overstimulation. (my sweet girl)

'let's take care of the mess you made, yeah?' he cooed, as you nodded mindlessly. there was one thing miguel will never admit, though.

and that's miguel likes it messy.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

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lancerslover · 5 months ago

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The Private Conference

(this lovely moodboard was created by @vintagedebutante ♥︎)

Pairing: President John F. Kennedy/Petite!Reader

Summary: As Cold War tensions rise, President John F. Kennedy calls one of his secretaries into the Oval Office to help him relax.

Word Count: 2.8k

Further Info: 18+, includes swearing and smut, specifically oral sex

A/N: happy Fourth of July, everyone!! i simply cannot think of a more patriotic way to celebrate than posting a fic about America’s hottest president. in this one, i tried to combine a few different requests, including one asking for the setting to be in the Oval Office, one asking for an angry/angsty Jack, and one asking for the reader to be on the petite side. i hope this fic at least somewhat does justice to those amazing ideas, and i hope you all have a wonderful, safe holiday! ♥︎

You froze for just a moment, almost like your shoe had caught on the carpet, when you stepped into the Oval Office and saw the President on the phone. This wasn’t uncommon—in fact, you’d estimate that at least half of all the “private conferences” you’d had with him since becoming his secretary had been interrupted, at some point, by a call. Typically, it didn’t put a damper on things (though you liked to groan and pout up at him whenever the phone rang, but that was only because you liked the way he would give your nose a playful, reprimanding pinch and tell you to “hush now, baby”). In all honesty, it made you feel oddly powerful, like a glamorous concubine of old, to sit with this big history book figure and listen while he discussed Castro and Khrushchev and all the other monumental responsibilities he carried on his wide, ex-Harvard-football-player shoulders.

On this particular afternoon, however, you immediately picked up on the fact that his call was putting him in a very bad mood. You knew tensions had been heating up with Cuba (you weren’t let in on any of the specifics, but you figured whatever threats Castro was making must’ve been pretty severe because, recently, you’d noticed your coworkers in the West Wing laughing less and pointlessly bustling around more), and you figured that was what the President’s call was about because you’d never seen him glower quite like he was now. His eyes were solid stone as he tracked you across the royal blue carpet; it was almost like he couldn’t truly see you through the dark film shadowing his gaze—he didn’t even offer you so much as a wink or a little throwaway smile.

As you came closer, you decided to test the waters and cast your usual finger-twiddling wave his way, but the only response you saw, and the only confirmation you got that he’d even registered your hello, was his eyebrows suddenly furrowing—drooping, almost—down his brow, as if your wave had actually stolen energy from him somehow. You quickly dropped your hand back to your side. The President was in serious need of some de-stressing today.

“Here’s the problem I have,” he was telling whoever was on the phone as you came up beside his looming Resolute Desk. “You can’t give me a definitive answer as to how long that’s gonna take.”

As he listened to the little voice (voices?) that jabbered away in response, he slowly swiveled in his chair to face you—and you supressed a delighted shiver. Since he was so tall (or maybe because you were so pitifully short), the two of you were exactly at eye-level whenever he sat down, and at this proximity, you swore you could feel the hot, agitated energy emanating off of him in thick, nerve-frying waves.

“Well, there’s no sense in you making any kind of official statement,” the President snapped abruptly, cutting the other man off (and making you flinch instinctively, which you normally would’ve been deeply embarrassed about after the fact, but the President hadn’t seemed to notice; at this point he was still looking more through you than at you), “until I can get up there and restore order.” You noticed then that his trademark East Coast accent sounded especially thick today, almost British. He pronounced “restore order” like ree-sto-ah oh–ah-dah, and he spit cigar smoke with every syllable.

Though the thought of turning around and leaving made your ribs clench around your heart with a yearning, almost schoolgirlish disappointment, you knew his needs ultimately came before yours. So, you started to mouth Should I come back later? as animatedly as your lips could manage, hoping you’d finally grab his attention enough to at least get a goodbye, when suddenly, his hand swung out to grab the skirt of your pencil dress and he pulled you, half-stumbling, between his large, knobby knees. Your hand flew to the edge of the desk so you wouldn’t trip over right into his chest (admittedly, if he was in a better mood, you probably wouldn’t have been so quick to catch yourself), and as you regained your bearings, you found yourself sucking in your cheeks to stave off a full-on beaming smile. You should’ve known better than to think John F. Kennedy was ever not in the mood, phone call be damned.

You were close enough to him now that, when you finished smoothing your rumpled skirt and looked up at him, you could smell the confused mix of cigar and minty toothpaste on his breath, and you could see the secret swirls of gray and green surging through the stormy blue of his eyes. He was definitely the most handsome man you’d ever been with—the combination of his boyishly-freckled, chronically-sunburnt cheeks with the square-shaped, no-nonsense masculinity of the rest of his face was undeniably endearing. During the quick half-second you two hung there staring at each other and his pupils (at last!) zeroed in on you and you alone, you felt a sudden sear of jealousy for the First Lady. It must be wonderful, you sighed inwardly, to be loved by a man so attractive. Sure, you were called in almost daily to the President’s office or the White House pool to help him “blow off some steam,” but you weren’t dumb enough to think that was love. You’d seen how he and his wife giggled like teenagers while they whispered in each others’ ears and how, whenever she spoke, he gazed down at her with eyes so soft and tender it made your heart hurt. The two of them simply sparkled. And though you liked to think you’d achieved a certain level of friendship with the President, he’d always made it clear, without ever having to say a word, that no one—not you or any other pretty young secretary, no matter how good you all got at giving blowjobs—could ever hope to reach the height of the First Lady’s pedestal in his mind.

As if to illustrate that very point, the President moved the receiver a few inches from his mouth and tore you from your thoughts with the very first words he’d spoken to you all afternoon, which were: “Don’t waste any time now, alright?” with a pointed glance down between his legs for emphasis. Then he added, “I’m having one hell of a day” and reached around to plant a firm pat on your butt.

And so, you began the familiar routine of stripping off your clothes and laying them neatly to the side—to ensure they’d stay wrinkle-free—until you were wearing nothing but your skin-colored stockings and the cross around your neck (for some depraved reason, the President liked it when you wore that necklace while you sucked him off).

You barely had time to kneel before he was clasping his hand around the side of your head and hooking his giant, hairy-knuckled thumb in your mouth to practically drag your face closer. Your throat tightened around a sharp intake of breath. Lord, he was impatient.

While you were in the middle of unzipping his slacks and pulling his penis out from the big bramble of hair beneath his belly, you suddenly jumped, startled once again as his voice sliced through the room, deeper this time and undercut with a predatory rumbling you could feel in your chest. “That fucker,” he snarled into the phone, which was now balanced between his shoulder and ear. “You oughta tell him he can stick that silly little ultimatum, if that’s what it is, right up his ass.”

Electricity sizzled up through your stomach. The President was going to be rough with you today, you could tell. You almost wanted to thank Castro personally for riling him up so much (you might’ve felt guilty for thinking something like that, but you were so confident the President would never let anything happen to his country that you truly didn’t see why Castro’s threats should be any cause for concern). Why the idea of the President taking his anger out on you was such a thrill, you weren’t sure. You were simply desperate for human touch as fast and hard as you could get it, you supposed—and in that way, if in no other, you thought you and the President were sort of kindred spirits.

You were practically leaning into his palm like a purring cat when he pulled his hand out of your mouth and ran it up over your cheek and back across your scalp to gather all of your hair into a makeshift ponytail. He was muttering into the receiver all the while (“Uh-huh. God, I know. Shit.”), his voice wet with saliva from the two or three painkillers he’d popped absentmindedly into his mouth.

Once your hair was all out of your face, you spit into your hand just like he’d once taught you to and gave the length of his gradually-stiffening cock a few long, indulgent strokes. But to your dismay, he gave absolutely no reaction. You watched, puffing your cheeks out with frustrated air, as he slowly set his cigar down in the ashtray and, like you weren’t even there, began tapping his pointer finger against his teeth like he always did when he was lost in thought—thought that clearly had nothing to do with you.

You didn’t waste any more time before bending over and wrapping your lips around him, eyes fixed frenetically on his face, and you swore your heart itself squealed with joy when, finally, his eyes flicked down to you, and he tilted the receiver away again to let out an appreciative, whistling breath.

You felt your hair tangle around his fingers as he moved his hand from the back of your head to the nape of your neck, and then, barely giving you enough time to adequately relax your throat, he pushed your head down with appalling strength, his tip jamming up into you with enough force to rub the insides of your cheeks raw. Your hands latched onto his knees.

“There we go,” the President said in a soft half-whisper-half-groan that made your inner thighs flush hot. “Atta girl.” Always the one to set the pace, he began moving you hastily up and down.

After working through the first eye-watering, throat-burning few seconds, you thought you were adjusting pretty well—until his hips made a sudden, violent twitch while he was buried to the hilt in your mouth (which was accompanied by a heaving grunt that could’ve been either from pain or pleasure, you weren’t sure), and you hacked a loud, wet cough that made the guy talking in his ear falter and go silent for a moment.

Your eyes fluttered wide. Had the President’s men heard you?

The President certainly seemed to think so, because he suddenly jerked you still halfway up his cock, which only served to send you into a fresh fit of choking, your whole body wracking with every cough. In an attempt to drown you out, the President leaned back in his chair and spoke louder into the phone. “Well, that bastard’s incompetent,” he said, patting his fingers against your cheek as if that would somehow shut you up. “I wouldn’t have him running, uh, a cathouse.” His wedding band burned cruelly against your skin.

Eventually, he oh-so-benevolently relented and lifted his hand from your neck, and you instantly whipped your head up—not so much to catch your breath (you were pretty sure you would’ve gotten ahold of your coughing fit without having to interrupt your “de-stressing” session if he’d have given you just a few more seconds) as to gauge whether or not you’d only made him angrier with all your noise. But to your relief, he was actually smirking now as he looked down at you, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh, completely unfazed by the men now clearing their throats and timidly resuming the conversation in his ear. That figures, you thought. The President probably wanted those men to hear you, deep-down. You knew him well enough by now to understand that he occasionally got off on the fact that his bodyguards and cabinet members were plainly aware of how many doe-eyed, obedient women—not just secretaries and interns but Hollywood starlets, too—he had giggling and dropping to their knees at the snap of his fingers.

At least you’d gotten him to smile, though—if not exactly in the way you’d hoped.

After a long pause, during which you were trying in vain to wipe away all the spit and pre-cum that had dribbled down your chin, the President said with an air of finality, “Alright, there really isn’t anything more to say here.” Say hee-ah. You froze mid-wipe and let out an excited gasp.

He responded by scooping a strong forearm under your armpit and hoisting you up onto his lap like you were nothing but a tiny doll, forcing you to clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle a squeak of surprise.

Leaning against his warm chest was like reclining into a giant sofa back as you settled onto his muscled leg. His penis, now only half-erect again, stirred plaintively against the inside of your thigh, seemingly sulky after having been abandoned.

“I’ve got my hands full over here.” The President was grinning widely at his own pun as he took to rubbing his free hand down your body, the width of his fingers splaying across the entirety of your stomach as he inched toward your clit with agonizing slowness. In retaliation, you reached back over his shoulder to grab a fistful of thick auburn hair.

“Call me back this evening with some good news, would you?” was the the last thing the President said before, in a blur, the receiver was slammed into its cradle and his hand was around your neck, his fingers were in your mouth, his hips were twitching up into your backside with an eager mind of their own. Suddenly, you could feel his heart thunking between your shoulder blades and your ear growing moist with heavy, animal-like breaths.

“God,” he groaned as he finally let his hand fall to your clit. “God-fucking-dammit. You drive me crazy, you know that? You dirty little girl.”

He started nibbling on your neck (he’d never actually kissed you—this hungry, barely-restrained biting, like a wolf chomping at its muzzle, was the closest he ever came) and cupping your breasts and tugging at your nipples with the same fiery-eyed ferocity you’d seen when he was on the phone. You and the other secretaries teasingly referred to this do-or-die passion of his as the famous red-blooded Kennedy “vigor” the press always talked about. Though what the press didn’t know, you and the girls always joked, was that this eager, youthful energy—this incessant, almost pathological need to dominate and conquer—extended far beyond just bull-headed political policies.

“They heard you,” the President was murmuring between his little bites. “God, they all heard you. That excites you, doesn’t it?”

Unwilling to admit how right he was, you instead smothered your face in his hot, pulsing neck to cover up a whimpering moan, and then you were twisting around to loosen his tie, unable to stop yourself—when a loud knock banged against the Oval Office doors.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” the President griped dramatically against your ear, making you laugh.

“I can come back later,” you said, more pleading with him than anything, whispering right into his mouth. You watched his eyes flick ravenously around your face as you wrapped your hand around his cock and added, with a small chuckle, “To finish you off.”

“That you will,” he said, “if you know what’s good for you.” Then he gave you that long-awaited wink and grin before wrapping his hands around your waist to stand you back up, and you were pleased to hear him groan softly at the loss of contact.

When you bent down with wobbly legs to pick up your clothes, he offered you his hand to hold and steady yourself on, and you felt yourself blushing at this perversely chivalrous gesture, even though he’d done similar things countless times before and was always unabashedly ogling your body as he did so.

“That knock means I’m going to have to head down to the Sit Room,” he told you then, wearily running his fingers through his perfectly-mussed hair while you tugged your blouse over your head, one hand still cradled in his. “But in about an hour, when I come back,” he continued, “I want you in here, naked and lying on that sofa over there.” He flung a finger towards the parlor area across the room.

You breathed a smiling sigh and shook your head, knowing you’d soon be in your office counting down the seconds. “Whatever you say, Mr. President.”

#john f kennedy #jfk #jfk x reader #jfk x you #john f kennedy x reader #smut #maria writes

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bellewintersroe · 6 months ago

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heyy!! first of all I wanted to THANK YOU for your works that include alton more bc there's literally no fictional material about him so God bless you so so much 🥹🥹 in this regard, I wanted to ask if it was possible to have some altonxf!reader (soldier, nurse, anything really) headcanons during the ending/post war? maybe they met somewhere in eindhoven and since then they started developing a romantic relationship? thank you in advance <3 <3 <3

Ahhh no thank you for reading, I appreciate it sm!!! I loveee Alton so ofc I’d love to do your request :) sorry this is only short- I do feel like this could be better but I do have some Alton smut in my drafts that’s gonna be published soon!

Alton More x Nurse! Reader.

- eeeek so you’re a red cross nurse working wherever they station you/ need you around Europe. Let’s say you’re from Britain. Technically you’re in the Army Nurse Corps.

- so you just happen to be in Eindhoven the same time the 101st airborne division are landing- and ofc you’re all so excited because you’ve never actually seen paratroopers jumping in before.

- there’s literally 0 casualties so you and the other nurses enjoy in festivities.

- Alton is enjoying himself and the celebration, feeling like a million bucks until he accidentally bumps into another body quite harshly.

- “oh! I’m so sorry, miss-” then you turn around and he looses his voice. “Ah, nurse I mean- ma’m. I’m really sorry. I didn’t see you there.” From the second you giggled up to him Alton is swearing to all the boys it’s love at first sight.

- you’re attached at the hip whilst trying to get through the street, he’s asking you question after question, trying to get to know you as quick as possible. I think you’d grow rather frustrated and drag him actually inside a building where there was seats and drinks being served.

- “you’re the prettiest face Ive ever seen…” he would admit, practically in aw as you sat beside one another in a booth.

- immediately it would be like you’ve known one another for years.

- Alton would deffo get a kiss in there, he’d hold either side of your face and kiss you with such determination.

- the two of you are practically being dragged apart by your senior officers, shouting one another’s details to each other so you can write.

- At first you were weary he wouldn’t write or didn’t hear you correctly, truthfully neither of you can get the other out of their head. But when a letter comes through a couple weeks later from him you’re in awe.

- fast forwards a couple months you’ve been writing back and fourth, and when you get sent to Bastogne, news spreads around the company fast.

- Alton is like; “woah, woah, what’d you say?” Before finding the time to go search for you throughout the chaotic town. Every nurse he see’s he feels his hearts in his chest, finally, he puts a hand on your shoulder and spins you around.

- you’re reunited once again. Let’s just say things move fast from here.

- anyway towards the end of the war you’re stationed nearby and it becomes a frequent thing that Alton comes and visits you. He’s turned the charm all the way up and practically seduces you to the point you’re dizzy.

- with no intermediate threat, things between you guys are a lot easier and after the first time he practically swoons you to bed, he’s asking if you’ve ever thought about moving to America.

- yeah you do that.

- life is super fun with Alton, I feel like he’d have these super muscular arms and he’d just throw you around constantly. Sometimes he get a bit carried away when you’re play fighting and ends up having to kiss you better if he’s got a little rough.

- it’s all happy families, he pops the question and marries you not long later- but that’s when the nightmares start.

- you see Alton has reoccurring dreams about a pair of baby boots he saw when he was looting dead German soldiers. Sometimes all he needs is a cuddle and a kiss to lure him back to bed, other times this man really needs to talk about it.

- late nights chatting when it’s just the two of you.

- I think maybe this image makes Alton somewhat fearful of beginning a father so for a little while it’s just the two of you building a home.

- deffo builds literally everything in the house, I feel like he’d be a handyman and constantly wanting to fix something.

- one day he’s building some shelves and surprise surprise you find hitlers personal photo album just sat on there n you’re like ‘Alton tf is this?’

- ‘What?….. I found it…..’ hm okay…

- I feel like he’d gift you ALL the time, and nooo he wouldnt loot (during the war expect him to loot everything that’s anything for you’ but I’m talking flowers, magazines, if some woman on the street is selling makeup products he buys you random ass shit.

- loves seeing his girl smile and forever labels you as ‘his girl’, literally how he introduces you to his parents like ummmmm.

- now throughout the war Alton obviously couldn’t go horse riding, so he picks this habit back up a couple years after the war is over and you’re settled.

- let’s say you’re scared of horses he does find it a little funny at first and he triesssss so hard to be sympathetic but it is a little funny…

- one day you’re sick, feeling super unwell, and since the war Alton deffo does worry about you a little more than most people would. He’s just so fearful of loosing you after seeing you exposed to the environments of the war.

- takes care of you, can barely work without thinking about you, will have his mom or sisters check up on you, when he’s home he’d be brushing your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead and doing anything you want.

- it’s all worth it tho because you’re sick because you’re preggo.

- he’s in shock at first, no doubt he’s happy, but he’s a little fearful and nervous, but super super excited.

- he’s a dilf fr and now he always refers to you as a milf lmfao.

- legit spoils you all, would sacrifice a limb for you and your children.

#band of brothers x reader #alton more x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers imagines

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luffyrose · 2 years ago

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Ghost in a Birdcage - DC x DP AU

I got a name for the Au! I am referencing the song Rule #4 Fish in a Birdcage as the title. I thought the song actually fit this whole au pretty well so yeah :D

Anyway, I told y'all I was working on stuff and part of it was this (plus the memes, which I'll share later) as well as thinking of a design for my Danny in this AU. I have a few ideas, but I'll probably work on the story itself before actually solidifying it.

Here's a little bit of sadness and softness from the past in this AU. Idk if this will be put into the main story, but it's just a general short story that is canon for this au.

~~~~~~~

GiaB AU Taglist: @markus209 @olivethetreebitch @chrysanthemum9484 @blackroserelina @avelnfear @edgyboi10000 @lokiaddams @samgirl98 @phoenixdemonqueen @iceknight-of-sun @autumnwulf @chronicallyonline-fandomwh0r3 @thegatorsgoose @nikki-pondtheauthor @jaxinkh @paper-bag-boy @dxrksong @lesling123 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @gmkelz11

(As a lil side note the tag list is gonna be on any writing I do for this au, if I make other posts about it I'll leave it to the tag for people to find. Not including a link to the Ao3 when I do make the fic or one-shot series itself, taglist will be there too :D)

~~~~~~~

Small sniffles filled the room. Jason's gaze shifted toward his little brother, a frown overtaking the anger that'd been apparent on his own face. Danny, his precious little brother, was laying on the mattress on the ground beside him. Turning and scooting closer, Jason's hand lightly landed atop slightly wet and messy curls.

"Danny, are you feeling better?"

He could see the younger open his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by coughs. Along with the coughs, a loud clattering noise came from the door that had been locked from the outside. Gritting his teeth, the instant yelling from outside telling them to shut up making him look toward the door. Really, almost three years, and Catherine still couldn't accept that a toddler was going to be loud. Danny wasn't even loud on purpose! Huffing in silent rage, Jason's eyes fell back on his little brother.

Danny was staring up at Jay, his eyes wide in slight fear at the yelling, but he knew his brother would protect them. He was very small, almost 4 now according to Jason! But he was also very smart. His brother told him that a lot, especially when he hid away when the yelling or fights started. Danny liked to be smart. He didn't like seeing the other with new injuries though, but Jason let him put bandaids on them, and then he would take them out to the library.

The library was nice.

Catherine, that's what Jason always called the angry lady, didn't like to go in there. She didn't like to go anywhere with them, but Jason liked to take him places so it was okay. They didn't go places when sick though...so why was Jason getting some of his stuff?

"We're gonna go to the library buddy."

Seeing the smile that crossed the kid's face, the tension in his shoulder's loosened, but with the loud rattling of the door and cursing, they were right back to how they were before. Getting up quickly, he shoved what he could into a little bag and helped Danny up, the small boy coughing again.

"CALEB DANIEL TODD I SWEAR WHEN I GET THIS DOOR-"

Jason didn't let Danny hear the rest of it, carefully getting them both out onto the fire escape. He knew Catherine had been...less than ideal. His father was worse. But now with Willis gone, she didn't hold back. Half the time she wasn't home, the other half the time Jason was keeping her away from Danny. Sometimes he wished she just wouldn't come home, or that Danny wouldn't be in danger because she did.

So he made a plan. He was gonna get Danny a better home. A safe one. Except, when he'd gotten sick and wasn't getting better with the cold medicine he stole, Jason's plans didn't matter so much anymore. Danny needed somewhere to get better, but he needed a way to do that first. He'd found a way...though he didn't like it.

Carrying the younger on his back, the backpack slung over his front while a star blanket Jason had actually bought for once was draped over them both. Danny was watching the people they passed by, a small but nervous smile on his face before he inevitably hid his head in the crook of Jason's neck. "Jay Jay..." The elder hummed, feeling the smaller hands tighten for a moment after. "Is Cat-rin gonna be mad at you again?"

Slowing for only a second, Jason scanned the area before looking at his brother. Danny was too smart for his age, and Jason knew it was because of their stupid 'parents'. "She's not gonna have the time to be mad at me..." He trailed off, the lump in his throat stopping him from saying anything else until they were already in front of the Library. Slipping through the door when a young adult couple was leaving, too distracted in their conversation to notice the two poor kids, they made their way to a small dusty nook.

The nook itself was filled with old books that most no one wanted to read, and the librarian who'd seen them reading there tended to leave them be. Setting Danny down, Jason held up a finger, turning to go get some better books from elsewhere. A small sneeze made him chuckle, knowing his little brother hated how dusty it was when they hadn't been back for a while. Slipping through the isles he got himself some bigger books, and a few picture books for Danny. He knew the kid would read one or two before asking for Jason to read him his books, so he'd started picking light-hearted stories or classics whenever the two came.

Making his way back and sitting down, Jason passed the smaller storybook about stars to his brother, watching Danny's expression almost glow at seeing it. At first, Jason let himself be absorbed in his own book, the only thing other than it he paid attention to being the gentle pressure that was Danny leaning against him. It was after a little while that Jason realized Danny hadn't started to bug him like usual. Looking over from his own book, he saw Danny staring at one of the pictures of a constellation.

"Do you wanna learn more about the stars?"

He'd jumped, but Danny had nodded after a moment. Something was bugging him, Jason could tell, but he wasn't about to push it. Instead, he smiled and grabbed one of the nearby books. It was a much older book, more of a journal really, but it held a bunch of sketches of the constellations. So the two sat there, whispering to one another in the privacy of the little nook. Jason was glad he knew some astrology, and Danny was so genuinely amazed, that he could ignore the lingering pain from old injuries that hadn't had time to heal.

Feeling a small tug, Jason looked toward Danny, frowning slightly when he saw small tears. "Jay Jay...are you gonna go somewhere?" He could feel the pit in his stomach knot even more at that, staring for a moment before a wobbly smile tried to cover his face.

"...What?"

A sniffle caused the smile to fall. "Danny, hey, buddy, I'm not going anywhere...I- I'm gonna find somewhere better for you though. Somewhere where you'll get to feel better and not be afraid." Looking down as Danny's small tears covered his face, he gently used his sleeve to wipe them away, knowing he would never have the heart to lie to him. "That's not gonna happen yet though...and when you have a nice home, I'll make sure to visit. We can read and look at constellations too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll do everything I can to try and keep that promise, alright?"

"Promises are hard to keep..."

Jason felt a sigh escape his lips, putting the book fully to the side and pulling Danny in for a hug. "They are...but just because they are doesn't mean that I won't try my best." Holding onto the younger, he felt the tears soak through the shirt on his chest, ignoring it. After Danny had stopped crying, he moved the boy back, hands on his shoulders. "If I can't keep my promise, you can get back at me." The small gasp from that made him laugh.

He seemed almost offended that Jason had said such a thing. "I don't wanna!" Jason tried not to laugh more, ruffling the younger's hair. "If you don't" —he was clearly thinking deeply about a suitable punishment— "then you have to help me." A proud smile formed on his face. With a slight smirk, Jason pulled the other back onto laying on his chest.

"Help ya with what?"

"With family."

It was quiet for a moment, Jason's fingers twitching for a moment before he started messing with Danny's hair. "How so little mans?" Danny seemed even more confused, pursing his lips as he kicked his feet some. Watching him with a small smile, Jason couldn't help but think this was the reason he'd survived so long. Danny was the one good thing in his life that had no strings attached. He was fine with that...but he needed Danny to be alright, even if it meant not being right there.

"You gotta help us have a BIIIIGGGG family. With more sib-a-lings!"

There was a snort from the older, ruffling Danny's hair. "You said it wrong you little dingus." Danny's own laughter erupted from him after a moment, swatting Jason's hand away. "But sure. If I break my promise, then I'll help you get a big and nice family." The toddler seemed to absolutely beam at that. "However! I still get to be the best brother-" Danny giggled at that, "and if anything is ever wrong you come to me, no matter what. Alright?"

With a happy nod, Danny's hair was once again ruffled up by Jason, the laughter filling up the small area they were in. Even when a few older ladies glanced over, not a word was spoken to the two. And when the librarian found both boys sleeping...well, if she gently readjusted the blanket they'd brought and let them sleep it was between her and the other librarians.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dc #dc comics #dcmultiverse #danny phantom #danny fenton #jason todd #GiaB AU

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littlelovingideas · 2 years ago

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“Let Me” 18+!!!!

Rick x Reader - “Let me”

Alrighty.... here it is. I finally sat my ass down and got this done. If I didn’t make myself work on it, I’d have never finished it. And honestly.... I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, but I guess it’s because I haven’t had a chance to come back to it and see it from a fresh perspective.

Regardless, I am happy to finally post it and truly hope it meets your expectations, or that you at least enjoy it!

I burst through the door of my home causing a huge bang to ring out, and awkwardly hobbled over to the couch where I promptly dropped my duffel bag and myself.

The sudden commotion caused Rick to peer around the corner from the kitchen at me,

“You alright?” he questioned, concern spreading over his features

“Yep” I winced, gingerly pulling up my pant leg to examine my ankle.

No swelling, no bruising... that’s a good sign. I am extraordinarily clumsy, so much so that it’s almost a running joke in the community of Alexandria. Why anyone ever allowed me out on runs, I’ll never know. But I guess when it comes down to it, I can do what I need to and that’s what matters the most.

“Hey, hey” Rick strode over, his face still taught with worry, “let me take a look”.

He kneels down in front of me and slowly takes my foot into his large hands. For a man who’s hands are so calloused and rough, his touch sure is delicate. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through my body, and I try to ignore the image of Rick kneeling before me. I swallow hard and stare at the ceiling, hoping to avoid my brain running away with that thought.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened this time?”, he almost chuckled, and I simply rolled my eyes in response.

“Long story short,” I started, feeling a grin creep it’s way across my face, “I guess I forgot how to walk and tripped over a root. I rolled it pretty good. I just wish I had a cooler story”. His blue eyes flashed up at me, eliciting a short chuckle from him as he shook his head.

“Well, it doesn’t look like it’s sprained, so I think you’re safe.” He sighed, “As for how it happened, we can just tell people they should see the other guy.”

Rick winked at me, and a chortle escaped my throat at his comment.

I’d been friends with Rick for a long time, ever since the prison. And I’d be lying through my teeth if I’d said I hadn’t been attracted to him since day 1, but when we met between Hershel’s farm and the prison he had much bigger, much more personal things going on. I wanted to be respectful and kept my distance, despite his marriage with Lori clearly being over. I knew the love he had for her ran deep, as did the love for the infant she’d been carrying.

I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if he had similar feelings for me though. Every now and then, when I’d turn around, I could almost swear that his gaze was lingering on me before he’d swiftly turn around and resume what he was doing.

I still didn’t want to risk making anything awkward, or ruining the friendship that had bloomed between us, especially as we were currently sharing a house together in Alexandria. But once again I’d be an absolutely filthy liar if I tried to tell you that living in such close quarters with him and having such a domestic lifestyle didn’t cause my feelings to become stronger. It just felt so natural. So much so that I could see us having a life together of our own. I was great with Judith, and I’d nurtured a bond with Carl. I loved them both like my own. And yet, I couldn’t allow myself to admit my feelings for Rick, despite how naturally our friendship had flourished months ago.

I tore my mind away from my thoughts and back to reality, where Rick was still kneeled before me, with an eyebrow cocked and a questioning look emanating from his gorgeous blue eyes.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?” he questioned, in almost a teasing manner.I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

I felt a mild blush start to creep across my cheeks as I just shook my head,

“Oh, nothing. Was just day-dreaming”, I fibbed. I wasn’t about to tell him it was about him, bu there it was... t I couldn’t help noticing that his gaze had also lingered momentarily. Just for a moment, but I was almost certain at what I’d seen.

He cleared his throat, before getting up and straightening out his pant legs,

“Well, your foot seems ok. Just try to keep it up and, maybe take it easy for the next few days. Lots of capable people here to go out for supplies.” He winked and I watched, almost hypnotized as his long, toned legs carried him back into the kitchen.

God, did I ever want to know what those thighs felt like beneath me.

My skin was still burning from where he touched my foot. I could almost still feel his fingers on me, gently caressing away any pain I’d had.

Once again, I shook my head, trying to get rid of those damn thoughts, and pulled myself off the couch and up the stairs to bed, calling out a quick “Good night” to Rick before disappearing over the landing..

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke slowly, feeling the dryness of my throat.

As I came around, I realized the entirety of the house was silent and immediately knew it must have still been the middle of the night.

Ever since we got this house, Rick was adamant on allowing me the bedroom. I had tried to tell him I didn’t need it, but he was content enough just sleeping on the couch- and so sleep on the couch he did.

Sometimes though, I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to share a bed with him, feeling his warm body next to me, our limbs tangled up with one another’s ... taking in his scent as we lay in bed together. Oh, his scent.

Sometimes, the thought of his warmth in the bed next to me would lead my mind to other things, like his weight above me, his blue eyes staring down at me intently. I tried to imagine how his face would look coated with lust. I tried to imagine his voice- I could only expect that it would be much lower and gravelly than normal. I sighed to myself as I felt my throat grow even dryer at the mental images my brain was producing, and flung the covers back to get a glass of water.

Slowly, I snuck down the hall, past Carl and Judith’s rooms, and down the steps. The hardwood floors were cool beneath my feet, and I enjoyed the sensation as I padded through the house to the kitchen.

As I passed through the living room, I couldn’t help but notice Rick was still awake- he had the side lamp on and was stretched out with a book in-hand. I spotted the title and immediately recognized it as one I’d brought back from my run earlier. A smile crept across my face as I continued on into the kitchen.

I took a few moments to drink my water, and take in the silence of the house. The silence. It’s something we didn’t get much of in the prior months, or even years, since the beginning of all of this. Sometimes, it was almost deafening. But most of the time, it was extremely welcome. I sighed contentedly, and headed back through the living room where Rick was still seated, but this time he was resting the book in his lap and his eyes were fixed on me.

Maybe it was the dim lighting from the lamp next to him, but his eyes seemed softer than usual.

I grinned, trying to ignore the slight awkwardness creeping up inside from not knowing what to do.

“So, I see you like the book?”

“Yeah”, he replied, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, “It was one of my favourites.”

“Yeah, I remembered you telling me about it, a while ago and couldn’t help picking it up yesterday. I knew you’d enjoy it”.

His eyes were still trained on me, his gaze nearly burning a hole through me. I subconsciously toyed with the hem of my sleep shirt, feeling mildly awkward and not knowing what to do.

A thick silence filled the room.

“Well,” I cleared my throat, “I’m glad you like it, get some rest and I’ll see you bright and early as usual.”

Just as I turned to go back up the stairs, Rick’s voice rung out, slicing into the silence in the room, calling my name.

I stopped and turned back around, only to see him on his feet and striding over to me. His bare feet not making a sound despite how quickly he was upon me.

Before I knew it, Rick was towering over me, his eyes boring into mine. His scent overwhelmed my senses, and the warmth radiating from his torso was making my head spin.

His eyes were darker than I’d seen them before, keeping me entirely in a trance with no idea what to do or what to say.

I lightly gasped as I felt his hand come to rest on my waist.

The tension between us was almost electric.

“Rick, I-” I stammered, but he cut me off, gently shushing me.

“I see the way you look at me”, he stated, “I see it all the time, and I’d be a fool not to notice-.”

I felt my cheeks get insanely hot, and prayed to all that was holy that it wasn’t visible in the darkness.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you-”

Again, he cut me off,

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. I was going to say I’d also be a fool not to feel the same way”, he chuckled quietly, biting his lip, “I see what you do for me, Carl and Judith. Always going out of your way for us. Doing more than you need to”.

I looked at the floor for a moment, thinking about his words- and he was right. Always picking up something that I thought one of them would like, whether it be comics for Carl, some toys for Judith, for Rick- books, clothing, favourite snacks, etc.

I guess I’d never really acknowledged it but I had a deep-seated desire to take care of the man who so tirelessly took care of everyone else. Call it what you will, but I realized I loved this man and must have been inadvertently showing it this entire time.

My cheeks burned as the sudden reality washed over me.

I felt a calloused finger make the most gentle contact with my chin, and pull my face up to look him in the eyes again.

He didn’t blink. His gaze never faltered. The hand that was under my chin slowly but surely made it’s way to the base of my neck, where he firmly, yet ever so gently pulled me towards him.

I was like putty in his hands at this point, my entire body was on fire and I could barely process what was happening. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Our faces were so close, I could just barely feel his lips ghosting over mine. His smell was so intoxicating. He hesitated for a moment,

:”Is this okay?”

I barely skipped a beat, nodding my head vigorously.

With that, he closed the gap between us and pressed his lips against mine. They were soft. So incredibly soft.

Rick was always such a rough and tumble guy, and despite having seen him with Judith and with Carl, I was almost shocked with how soft and gentle he was being with me.

Electricity surged through my veins. My head swam. The room spun.

Our lips moved against one another, slowly growing more passionate, sighs beginning to tumble from our lips between lingering kisses.

My hands snaked their way up his chest, pausing for a moment so I could savour the warmth radiating from under his shirt. His shoulders were broad and I could feel his muscles gliding under his skin as his hand worked through my hair.

I had touched Rick before- being friends for years, this was nothing new to me- but this situation felt incredibly different. I’d never touched him in this way, while allowing my desire to guide me.

The warmth of his body was causing the fantasies from earlier to return in full force, fueled by the sound of his breathing becoming heavier and the closeness of our bodies.

Slowly, he pulled away and met my gaze. A shaky breath escaped my lips.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Rick asked, his blue eyes absolutely burning into mine.

Slowly, I stepped forward until our bodies were pressed together, holding Rick’s gaze.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”, I state boldly, while simultaneously questioning where this sudden confidence was coming from.

My breath hitched as Rick’s strong hand squeezed my waist and pressed my body even tighter to his, and in the dim lighting I saw a smirk begin to work its way across his beautiful lips.

Before I knew what was happening, his strong hands made contact with the backs of my thighs and within one swift movement I was no longer on the ground, and instead, resting on his hips.

I could feel his strong fingers massaging my ass, while balancing me perfectly against him and giving my aching core a sense of relief as I felt his cock pressing against me. Suddenly, I was aware of just how wet I was for him, and could wait no longer.

My mind flooded with things I’d only been able to dream of before, but now, it was really going to happen. I could no longer wait to finally see his beautiful face contorted with pleasure, or hear his voice low and rough, thick with lust. I needed to feel his weight above me, and allow him to fill me completely.

The thought made my pussy twitch, and I gasped as I felt his cock return the favour beneath me.

“Rick” I gasped, my fingers tugging at his soft curls, “Take me”.

He growled.

“Shit, I thought you’d never ask”, and with that, he wasted no time heading for the stairs.

Moments later, he was crashing into the bedroom, our lips still colliding and my small frame still held tightly against his tall, muscular body, panting and gasping during our passionate exchange.

The entire time I could feel my pussy twitching as every step he took pressed his cock right into my needy core before tumbling onto the bed with me still in his arms.

Not wasting another moment, my fingers began frantically undoing the buttons on his shirt, hungrily grasping at the material and yearning to feel his skin on mine.

His hands were so large and warm as they slid beneath my shirt, gently grabbing and squeezing the soft flesh of my sides. I felt so small beneath his touch, and the feeling only turned me on more. I wanted to submit to him entirely.

I watched as he sat up for a moment and let his gaze trail down my body to admire the scene before him, his piercing blue eyes stopping for a moment as they caught sight of my nipples pressing through the delicate fabric of my shirt. His eyes were full of lust, and what also seemed like disbelief as he continued to take all of me in.

His hands worked my shirt up further, exposing my midriff and my hips. He pressed his fingers into the softness of my stomach, and slowly, agonizingly trailed them downwards to play with the hem of my panties.

They were plain. Cotton. A simple bow in front. And yet he looked on admiringly regardless.

He continued staring intently, and I began to squirm under his gaze, simultaneously turned on and feeling slightly self conscious.

His eyes flashed back up to mine and he must have noticed my inquisitive look, because continued dragging his hand downward until he traced my slit over the fabric, causing me to buck my hips and stifle a whimper.

Rick sucked in a breath as I felt him press his thumb gently against the pooling wetness in my panties.

His cock twitched in his pants, tearing my focus away from his face and I felt my eyes widen at the size of what I would be working with. His cock was so hard that I could see a clear outline of his shape straining against his thigh.

My needy cunt clenched and our eyes flickered to one another, knowing he felt it as he toyed with my slit some more. His touch was agonizingly slow and delicate, so much so that it almost irritated me.

Without warning, while holding my gaze, he pressed against the now clear wet spot and a slight sigh tumbled from his lips as he felt the slick seep through the fabric and coat his fingers.

My jaw fell slack and I thought I saw a trace of amusement flit across his features as I felt my eyelids flutter at the sensation.

“Baby” I breathed, “Please, touch me”.

Rick’s head tilted back and his adams apple dipped as he swallowed hard, trying to stifle a moan at my sudden words before allowing himself to fall forward over me and staring me directly in the face.

Once again, his eyes were boring into mine and I could do nothing but stare back.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this” I murmured, “I’ve thought about your touch more times than I can count”.

His eyes only seemed to darken more as he took in my words.

“Oh yeah? That all you thought about darlin’?” he growled in my ear.

My tongue trailed over my bottom lip before I responded,

“No”.

Rick smirked and cocked an eyebrow, moving my panties to the side and ever so slowly feeling soft flesh of my lips.

“Tell me what else”.

I gulped. Suddenly, his eye contact intimidated me. I gathered my strength, and slowly mustered out the words I know he’d been waiting for,

“Your cock”, I sighed,

Immediately he knelt down the rest of the way and the tip of his tongue parted my lips, ghosting lightly over my most sensitive bundle of nerves, just as delicately as the words ghosted over my lips.

Immediately I bucked my hips again and my hands hungrily tangled themselves in his hair. One had continued to hold my panties to the side, and slid a large finger inside my desperate centre. He slowly worked his other hand up to massage my inner thigh.

“Good girl” he murmured against my cunt.

“You take such good care of us” he continued, barely above a whisper “Now let me take care of you”

I inhaled so sharply as his lips formed a seal around my clit and he graced me with a moan- the vibration and sound combined to send me into a frenzy, my vision going white for a moment.

I felt him chuckle against me, as he continued to pump his finger in and out of me, before sliding another one inside in one fluid motion.

My fingers pulled his hair and I no longer had control of my body as my hips bucked and squirmed, trying to grind into him. He gratified me and pressed his face into my soaking wet centre once again, his tongue expertly attending to me where I needed him most.

Just then, without warning, he pulled away to tower over me once again.

I whined at the sudden absence of his touch, and felt my pussy clench for the millionth time around nothing as he licked his lips and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.

I felt my eyebrows furrow and had to resist the urge to pout at his sudden withdrawal, because as much as I was disappointed to lose his touch, I also knew what was coming next.

Just as I suspected, his hands went straight for his belt and expertly undid it in one expert movement.

I watched as he undid his button, zipper and then slowly slide his pants down.

His cock finally sprung out, and I felt myself salivating at the thought of taking him into my mouth, my eyes locked onto his length, staring hungrily.

I couldn’t tell what I wanted more- to feel his cock in my mouth, or to feel him stretch out my soaking cunt, and I think he could tell.

“Easy, girl” he bit his lip, slowly rubbing himself a couple of times through his boxers, looking at me with clear amusement on his face yet again.

“Rick”, my voice was much lower than I anticipated, “Take it off”.

He smirked again, hooking his thumbs into his waistband and taking his sweet time working his boxers down over his hips- doing so agonizingly slowly over his shaft, watching me closely to gauge my reaction.

“Rick“, his name came out as more of a squeak, “Please. I need you”.

He paused for a moment, contemplating whether he was going to adhere to my demands or not, clearly feeling cocky.

Finally, he decided to give me what I’d asked for and freed himself- my jaw fell open as I finally got to take in the beauty of this man in his purest form.

My mouth watered, and without waiting, I was up on my knees and crawling towards him.

I hesitated before taking his thick cock in my hand - the sheer size made my hand look so small. His cock twitched in my hand, as I admired each and every inch of him. His cock was even more beautiful than I’d imagined, and unable to wait a second longer, I took him into my mouth.

His head fell back and I heard his breath catch as the head of his cock made contact with my warm tongue. I began slow- swirling my tongue gently around his head, taking in the warmth and savouring the taste of him. While I worked the head with my tongue, I gently pumped his shaft with my other hand.

A string of curse words spilled from his lips between pants and poorly stifled grunts.

His cock twitched in my mouth as he fought the urge to thrust into my throat. I placed my other hand on his toned thigh to brace myself, allowing my thumb to massage small circles into his skin.

I formed a seal with my lips and let him fall from my mouth with a gentle ‘pop’, before working my way down, dragging my lips down the underside of his dick, and then flicking my tongue back up his length, following the most beautiful vein I’d seen, before placing the lightest kiss to his tip which was soaked in precum.

At that, his hand effortlessly found its way into my hair and collected a handful. I allowed my lips to part for him, and took in as much of him as I possibly could, letting my jaw fall open as far as it could, and trying to accommodate hm into my throat as best I could without gagging.

His grip in my hair tightened and he briefly thrusted into me as he lost control of himself for a moment, causing me to gag, and his cock to twitch a few times at the sensation of my throat contracting around him.

My tongue flicked up and down, while I also bobbed on his dick, wanting to give him the best sensation I could.

Just then, Rick pulled my hair and removed me from his dick. Forcefully.

I looked up at him, and my attention turned to my own pussy and how much I had drenched my underwear and my thighs. I loved looking at him from this angle, it felt so god damn erotic.

“Stop. I’m supposed to be taking care of you” he hissed.

“Sorry”, I shrugged, “I couldn’t help myself”

Rick chucked darkly and tilted his head,

“I had no idea you were such a giver.”

I had no response, I just smiled back proudly, knowing just from his response that I’d already exceeded his expectations.

After another moment, I turned my attention from his eyes back to his cock, and realized it was truly the most incredible thing I’d ever seen.

I couldn’t get enough. He was the perfect combination of hard and strong, but also so smooth in my mouth.

“I love tasting you”. I didn’t even think before responding, and my eyes widened at the words that just fell from my mouth.

“Fuck” he growled, “Bend over”

He grabbed me firmly and flipped me over in one fluid movement, pressing his hand down on my back to signal me to bend, with which I complied.

I spread my legs and buried my face into the pillow just in time, as he immediately also buried his cock in my pussy. The stretch was incredible, and I cried out as my pussy suddenly had to adapt to his size.

The strength of his cock was even better in my pussy, and feeling how hard he was absolutely drove me insane. The pillow muffled what would have been an uncontrolled moan, and I felt his strong hand slap my ass before kneading into me again.

His dick twitched and throbbed inside me, while his hands gripped my hips. His thrusts were sloppy, and his other hand worked it’s way around to my front and found that little nub between my legs.

Feeling his weight behind me, the pads of his fingers expertly working me, his thrusts sloppy and hard, and the soft, restrained moans and grunts tumbling from his lips and into my ears was nearly too much to take.

I felt my cunt contracting around him, and I know he felt it too as he pulled out and roughly slammed back into me, the sound of skin on skin slapping filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasionally profane exclamations.

“Fuck baby” he grunted, as his pace quickened, “You feel so good”.

His fingers continued to rub circles into my clit, adjusting to my responses and reactions. He began to put more pressure and the circles matched tempo with his thrusts.

I felt my stomach begin to tighten, and that familiar jolt of pleasure signalling the arrival of my climax. I shoved my face back into the pillow and cried out as my cunt began to twitch.

:”Cum for me babe”. he groaned

“Please” I cried between gasps, “Please cum in me.”.

I tried to hold back on my climax, until I felt his cock begin twitching as well and he could no longer control his moans and grunts.

I finally allowed myself my own release, and Ricks hands grabbed my ass as hard as he could while we both rode out our high’s together.

Eventually, his thrusts slowed, and we both collapsed onto the bed- him on top of me, and his cock still twitching lazily inside of me.

He placed a kiss to my cheek and sighed contentedly before rolling off me and pulling my small body into his, holding me protectively and stroking my hair, before we eventually drifted off together.

I was absolutely looking forward to this new dynamic, and couldn’t wait to continue taking care of each other.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #twd x reader #twd #rick grimes twd #the walking dead #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes imagine #text #let me #littlelovingideas

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chaotic-goodsir · 6 months ago

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@ashturns30 Happy birthday week! I hope it's okay for me to join in with this challenge, even if I cheated by only making something for one day and posting it a day late 😅

Your fic Remember You Like A Song - which everyone should go read first if they haven't, because it's brilliant - is THE fic that got me invested in MacNaCross in the first place. This was going to be just a short, extremely fluffy pre-portal drabble-thing inspired by it, but I got carried away and it ended up longer than planned. I hope you don't mind me posting something inspired by your fic, but no worries at all if you do for any reason - just let me know and I'll take it down.

Anyway, thank you for hosting this challenge and I hope you have a great birthday week!

***

What Was The One You Always Loved?

The highway outside is a river of speeding taillights in the dark, reflecting red and green and yellow in the rain that runs down the diner's grease-streaked window.

Steam rises from the mug of black coffee in John's hands as he waits for it to cool, soaking in the warmth. The caffeine fix should, in theory, keep him awake long enough to reach the motel PIEP have booked for them without collapsing on the side of the road.

Two pairs of motorbike gloves lie on the table, beside his wallet and an almost-empty pack of cigarettes (he'll have to pick up more at the gas station before they leave). Across the booth, Wilbur frowns at his strawberry milkshake, stirring it with a red-and-white striped plastic straw.

'I swear they used to put more sprinkles on these.' There's a solemn gravity to his tone that few people but Wil could apply to the matter at hand. 'Used to be more colours as well. Half of these are just red. What's that about?'

'Is there a difference?' John asks. 'Surely they all just taste of sugar?'

Wilbur scoops a piece of cream and eats it from the end of the straw, the actual spoon lying ignored on the table.

'Its about the principle, Johnny' he says, stabbing the straw into the air between them like a teacher illustrating a point. 'If they're gonna call them 'rainbow' sprinkles, there oughta at least be an even ratio of colours.'

John smiles, taking a sip of still-too-hot coffee.

'Duly noted, Lieutenant Colonel.'

'Don't give me that cheek, MacNamara,' Wilbur says, grinning. 'You lectured me on the flaws of digital watches for half an hour yesterday.'

'Yes, because I can't in good conscience let you waste your money on such an abomination. Time is-'

'-a precious thread in the fabric of the universe, deserves respect, sure, I get it. And sprinkles are a precious thread in the fabric of a good milkshake.'

'I'm not sure the metaphor works quite so well in this case.'

Predictably, a dollop of cream is flicked his way. He dodges with practiced ease, laughing. It hits the back of the booth, earning them a scowl from a passing waitress that's probably deserved.

The diner is quiet, save a couple of fellow travellers and a few employees unlucky enough to be working late. There's a jukebox in the corner - a classic, vintage one with that archway shape and faded neon lighting - but the scrap of paper taped to the front reads Out Of Service. A cheap plastic radio on the counter provides the alternative, courtesy of some local station's late-night show. The host sounds as though he'd rather be at home in bed. John can't help but sympathise.

A familiar sequence of strummed chords catches his attention. He taps his fingers silently against the coffee mug and listens, remembering last year on the drive back from Shenandoah National Park. (Almost a year ago, now, though it doesn't feel it. Time, for all it's importance, is a wily creature that slips away if you lower your guard.)

It was late summer, the tail end of a slow August. The road wound it's way like a silver snake through a sea of green just beginning to turn gold, and Wilbur was leaning against the window on the passenger side, explaining to John why he should learn to ride a motorbike.

He made some good points, but John was only half-listening, distracted by the song playing on the radio. It had seemed to fit the drive, the scenery, the whole weekend, so perfectly that it had buried itself in his brain in a way that music usually doesn't. He's heard it a few times since, always fondly picturing the same memory. And yet he's never managed to catch its name.

He tests the temperature of his coffee again, the burn on his tongue bringing him back to the moment.

'You good?' Wilbur asks, reaching a hand across the table. John puts the mug down and takes it, lacing their fingers together.

'Just tired.'

'You look half-dead, darlin'. No offence.'

'Coffee should help. Do you know what song this is?'

Wilbur tilts his head a little, listening.

'This one? Nah, I don't. Why?'

'No particular reason. I just like it.'

That earns him an odd sort of look, followed by a pause and a quiet 'huh' that's half a laugh.

'What's funny?'

'S'just I think that's the first time you've expressed an opinion on music that I didn't ask you for.'

John opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. He knows he's told Wilbur how musical theatre makes him uncomfortable, and why loud music in grocery stores should be banned (it's distracting, there's no need for it, they're awful places already with their fluorescent lighting and endless rows of too many options...) - but those are probably not the kind of opinions Wilbur is talking about.

John's never had a favourite song - it's Wil whose CD collection takes up two shelves of the bookcase in their living room - but if you held a gun to his temple and demanded he choose, he'd probably pick this.

'I think I've heard this before,' Wilbur is saying now. 'It's cute, all that kiss me stuff. Very romantic. Didn't know that was your kinda thing.'

John turns his face to the window, a little embarrassed. It doesn't help his case that the singer is crooning something saccharine about fireflies.

The night before the drive home, the lightning bugs had surrounded their campsite, like miniature fallen stars hovering in the dusk. They were part of the reason John had wanted to come out to Shenandoah. After a week spent handling an a gruesome case, he needed the reminder that the world was more than just horror and paperwork. That sometimes it could also be beautiful.

Wilbur stood behind him on the slope of the hill, arms wrapped around John's waist. He was talking, of course. This time about watching fireflies in his parents backyard as a kid.

'They looked like this, mostly. But sometimes you'd get these weird green ones...'

'Green?' John asked.

'Yeah. Bright green, like... neon, or somethin'. They moved differently, too. Made this weird noise, sorta like whispering. Never seen them anywhere else.'

'You're sure they were fireflies?'

'I don't know,' Wilbur leaned forward, resting his chin on John's shoulder. 'Probably just imagined it. I was a weird kid. No one believed me then, either.'

John took a drag on his cigarette, careful to angle the cloud of smoke away from Wilbur's face.

'Whatever you saw, I'm sure it was real. Many things exist in this universe. There's room in the scope of infinity for green fireflies.'

Wilbur had pulled him closer, kissing him on the cheek.

'See, this is why I like ya so much. Don't matter how crazy I sound, you'll still give me a chance.'

John had laughed at that, watching the ordinary, yellow-gold fireflies form constellations around them, a million tiny fires to match the glow of his cigarette. He'd had the sudden, irrational urge to suggest they stay - pack up their tent tomorrow, leave the car behind and keep walking into the wilderness. Become their own unsolved mystery. Abandon PIEP and everything it demanded of them. Hell, even go looking for green fireflies.

He didn't dare mention it. The concept itself was less terrifying than the thought that Wilbur might agree.

'Mmm,' he'd answered instead. 'I wonder what that says about the both of us.'

The song fades out, lyrics first and chords trailing after. The DJ's bored monotone takes over. To John's mild irritation, he's managed to miss the name of the song yet again.

'...thank you to Jodie for requesting that one - I hope you and your husband have a wonderful wedding anniversary. So, next up we have...'

Wil stops tracing lazy circles on the back of John's hand and glances towards the radio with an amused smile.

'What?' John asks, raising an eyebrow. 'You're plotting something.'

'Me? Never. Just thinkin' I'm gonna need to find out what that song is called, since you like it so much. For future reference, y'know?'

He winks.

John frowns back, awaiting an explanation.

'For when I get round to marryin' you. Assumin' you'd want me?'

John almost spits out the coffee he's making a third attempt to drink. Several responses run through his head at the same time, none of them especially coherent.

Wilbur just laughs, and finishes the last of the milkshake.

'Don't look so scared, Johnny. When I'm really askin' I promise I'll do a hell of a lot better than that.'

#trying to do my part for the macnacross agenda #ashturns30 #macnacross #crossnamara #hatchetverse #hatchetfield #wilbur cross #john macnamara #my writing

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sleepy-achilles · 2 years ago

Note

My last post has been stuck in my head and I NEED to read an au of these two motherfuckers.

Young and shy taker being hassled by champion fuck boy shawn, as he desperately tries to get his attention after seeing him at a bar 🥹

LIKE LOOK AT THE MATERIAL

Let's go (also 100% starting with shy taker and ending up with Mr steal yo bitch) I'm also under the impression that Shawn is in the wwf but taker isn't.. I might be wrong about that but that's what I've gone for in this, if I'm wrong honestly just say and I'll write you another one.

Also I cannot flirt to save my life so this will either be really cringe or make me want to die. In other words it's gonna be short because I can only flirt with my close friends and not a single other soul. I'm wired differently.

Hbtaker AU- Boy Toy Flusters

------------------------------------------------------------------

Taker taps his fingers against the bar. He tended to stay home and drink but Paul was not leaving him alone lately. And well, the bars were empty with wwf being in the valley. Taker doesn't know why they'd come here, but apparently it was a good idea. Taker hears the door open but ignores it. If it's Paul, he hopes if he does ignore him he'll just go away.

He lifts his whiskey to his mouth for a sip when a lean figure sits at the bar. Taker doesn't hesitate to check the figure out, and he's glad he does. A pretty young thing with a lot of skin on show. "Uh just as many shots as possible please" the blonde smiles at the bartender. Clearly not alone, which takers glad because he won't have to watch out for him, but it also means any chances he might of had are gone. Taker turns his attention back to his whiskey and whatever shitty sports game is on.

Shawn glances at the big guy before carrying the tray of shots back to his friends. "And what are these bad Boys?" Kevin asks as shawn places the tray down. "Hell if I know. A shot of courage if you ask me" shawn smirks before taking one and downing it and taking another and downing it. "If your going back to the bar the least you could do is get hunter a drink he can actually drink" Scott chuckles. "How did you know?" Shawn asks. "I saw you eye fucking that hunk, go get him tiger" Kevin smirks. "Just atleast order me a water" hunter huffs. Shawn nods and struts his way back to the bar.

"A water aswell please" the southern voice asks. "For that table too" he adds. Taker looks as the blonde sits next to him. "Shawn Michaels" Shawn smiles. Taker doesn't say anything and it causes Shawn to frown. "Cmon? Nothing? Just gonna ignore me?" Shawn pouts. Taker takes a sip of his drink and looks back at the news. "Come on hot stuff, I promise I'm worth it. I always deliver" Shawn practically purrs at him.

Taker sighs and decides, screw it? Paul ain't around, what harm could come?

"Undertaker" Taker mutters. "Undertaker? Hmm how about Takes or Taker?" Shawn asks. "Sure" Taker murmurs. "Dont talk much huh?" Shawn asks. Taker doesn't say anything, he just watches Shawn. "Thats okay hot stuff, I can do enough talking for us both" Shawn smiles resting his arms on the bar. Taker just watches him. He swears he's seen his face before. "You a wrestling fan?" Shawn asks. "Not really. Haven't got the time to watch it. Actually surprised they came to the valley for a show" Taker admits. "Best show so far if you ask me" shawn smirks. "Yeah?" Taker asks. "Oh yeah, became champ and everything." And takers face flushed. Of course. A face he didn't recognise? Of course he was here for the show.

Shawn giggles at the flush building on the mans face. "Its alright big guy. I won't take offence if you tell me you don't know who I am" Shawn teases. "Shoulda put two and two together" Taker huffs rubbing his neck. Shawn smiles slightly and looks at the bartender. "Another drink for him and a beer for me please" Shawn orders. "Thanks" Taker mumbles. "Anytime sugar" Shawn turns towards taker more, taker blushes as shawn rests his hand on takers knee. "You don't wanna be with your friends celebrating your win?" Taker asks quietly. "Trust me darling, we will have plenty of chances to celebrate wins like this" shawn mutters leaning closer. Taker looks at the blondes eyes.

Those dangerous blues.

Those addictive dangerous blues.

Shawn smirks slightly as he cups takers face. "Are you always this shy?" Shawn asks quietly. His smirk falls as Taker grabs his wrist in his much bigger hands and leans in. "Sure, at first" Taker smirks. Shawns eyes widen slightly. "But after the pretty little thing has had their fun, I like to have mine" Taker adds, turning fully towards Shawn.

Shawn doesn't know what's happened but he can say he likes the sudden shift in Taker. From shy and aloof to this? Yes please.

Shawn can feel his cheeks burning as Taker tilts his head down. "How about you let me thank you for the drink?" Taker asks quietly, cupping the area between his jaw and neck. Shawn stares at him in Awe before nodding slightly. "Whats wrong boy toy? What happened to that big cocky I can talk for both of us?" Taker smirks. Shawn decides to shut him up by pulling him into a kiss. Taker hums before kissing him back, moving one hand to his hip and squeezing it tightly.

Taker pulls back slightly after sometime and watches amused as shawn fumbles to get the drink money out of his wallet. "Eager?" Taker asks as he watches the money get thrown onto the bar. "Whats closer? My hotel or your house?" Shawn asks, no longer wanting to play whatever game he thinks this is. Taker smirks as shawn stands. "You gonna talk to your friends before running off with a stranger?" Taker asks. "Look, if it's big they'll understand when they find my dead body. Just give me a good time first yeah? It's been a rough week" Shawn huffs grabbing takers hand and pulling him off his stool and out of the bar.

Kid lifts his head from the table and looks towards the bar. "Uh...guys?" Kid asks. "What?" Scott groans. "Shawn's gone" Kid points at the bar. Kevin looks at the money and untouched drinks. "Its a small town. If he's not back to leave tomorrow we'll know who to look for." Scott states. "Shouldn't we look now?" Hunter asks. "I trust shawns judgement. I know you guys don't but he's a lot better at reading humans than you'd think. I'm just glad he's finally getting laid again" Kevin huffs. "Now, someone grab those drinks, don't let them goto waste" Scott orders.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #kevin nash #scott hall #sean waltman #triple h #the kliq

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rottentiger-art · 2 years ago

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tag people you would like to get to know better

Thank you @gigantomachy1916 and @litterateur97 for the tag!! It's crazy how much we have in common lol

1. Three Ships

Ooof, I got so many, I'm gonna put the three I'm currently obsessed with (bc I'm not sure I could choose just three as favorite)

Vegebul, my beloved, my OTP, the light in my life, the best anime couple imo

Trumai (yes, both versions), the successor of Vegebul, they have me in a hold just as strong as them, it's such a weird but fun pairing, I adore them

Hurrem x Suleiman (look at themmmmm) everytime suleyman spoke his poems to hurrem I melted, no ship has ever have such romantic quotes. Plus, i use a lot of their scenes for royal aus, it's just gold

I know you said three but I gotta give an honorable mention to Lawmane, who's ever present in my mind, even if I dont post about them as often as before. They would've been THE couple if only Misa hadnt fallen for that gay republican

2. First Ever Ship

I think it was either Sparrabeth or Quogan, I'm not too sure (Quogan was the first ship I've read a fanfic of tho). I'm still obsessed with both, maybe more than when I was younger. I remember wanting Spareabeth to be endgame and to know more of Quogan's life after the show's end, but now it's a NEED

3. Last Song

Funeral by Mon Laferte. It's an amazing song, it speaks of being in a loveless/passionless relationship and wondering how it got that way and wanting nothing more than for it to finally reach its end. My favorite part goes something like this: "While I prepare breakfast I feel so terribly alone, suddenly I want to die, I want to run away from you. I wish I was on the ocean, letting the waves carry me away, I want to stop breathing; dont wake me up, I want to keep dreaming about our funeral" not a perfect translation, but you get the point. The narrator feels so helpless and is so desperate to find a way put an end to that relationship, other part of the song reflects her regret on how they both let the relationship die and wishes she could go back in time and prevent it, but nonetheless their love has died and they're both wasting their time by still being together.

I listen to it a lot when I need to think an angst AU or something lol. But the singer is so good and shows such emotions through her voice, it makes me relate, even tho I've never been on that situation (thankfully)

If you want to get into Hispanic music, I definitely recommend Mon Laferte, she's one of my favorite artist, "Se me va a quemar el corazón" is another amazing song of hers that I recommend.

4. Last Movie

The Menu (2022)

Amazing movie, it was fun and light to watch and not to be taken too seriously + it has my gf Anya Taylor-Joy (ORGULLO ARGENTINO), I took a peek at its tag on ao3 out of curiosity and I'm embarrassed to say who I'm shipping now, but if you know me, you can probably guess

5. Currently Reading

Nothing new, I've re read my favorite books, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and Chronicle of a Death Foretold by GGM. The little prince was the first book ive ever read, I always heard it's a book you should read as a kid and then later as an adult, and my God, it's true, it's a completely different experience. 6 yo me thought it was a fun book about a man hallucinating in the desert, 24 yo me cred like a baby full of longing for a childhood I didn't appreciate and grief of the kid in me that inevitably died as I grew up and became an adult.

I never tire of reading CoaDF, everytime I expect the end to be different even tho the very beginning tells you what's gonna happen.

I dont have much time, so I choose those too bc they're a short read. However, I'm gonna start to reread asoiaf books too, bc I can never get enough of them

6. Currently Watching

Like I said, I have no time, so I stick to Sitcoms I can put on the bg while I work. I'm currently rewatching The Nanny, I forgot how much I loved it. And I swear, I'll start dressing as Fran as soon as I have time to buy new clothes, her style is just, mwah chef's kiss, obsessed.

And omg, I forgot how slow the burn in this show was, its Season 5 and they're still not dating!!!! Immabout to throw gasoline at them!!!!!

7. Currently Consuming

I ordered some Pizza, it should be here any moment, I'm sure you can guess why

8. Currently Craving

TIME PLEASE, I NEED TIME TO BREATH, I HADNT DRAW ANYTHING IN SO LONG AND ITS AFFECTING ME SO MUCH

I also need to finish my fic and socialize more. So I crave time, I need a vacation.

9. Tagging

@tomwise @emcads @littlewomenpodcast @mslilylashes ❤ anyone that wants to do it, feel free to!

#tag game #beloved mutuals #vegebul #trumai #hurrem x suleyman #lawmane #sparrabeth #quogan #mon laferte #the menu (2022)#anya taylor joy #the little prince #chronicle of a death foretold #cronicas de una muerte anunciada #asoiaf #the nanny #fran fine #idk what else to tag

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cubic-porygonal · 2 years ago

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oh right, should make an intro post

so yeah, welcome to my blog! i probably shouldnt say too much detailed info about myself for privacy reasons, but heres a bit i can share. my name's private but i go by Cubic, i live in Unova (Castelia City, specifically), i like computers, games, and my pokemon.

speaking of, lemme tell yall about em!

Vertex

first up, my Porygon Vertex! it's my first pokemon, and it was a birthday gift from my siblings. apparently they spent a whole month searching for one, and we've been the best of friends ever since. it's part of how i can even do my job in the first place, actually! it likes playing games of all kinds, and you might even heard about it in speedrunning circles. somehow, it always manages to find new and bizarre glitches in whatever games it plays, and some of them are pretty good for skips. it's also surprisingly catlike compared to most other Porygon i've seen. not that i mind, though. whatever makes it happy!

Proto

next up is Proto, my Rotom pal! not only are they part of my team, but they're also the Rotom that powers my phone. (i do have a normal backup battery though, just in case of an emergency.) i met them one night when there was a blackout, but my computer somehow hadn't turned off. turns out they'd been living in there for over a week without me noticing! it took all night, but i finally managed to get the little guy to trust me enough to come out... and then they immediately climbed into my phone. but it's been well over 3 years since then, and we've made great progress since! they're a but jumpy and shy, but they generally mean well!

Vi is my Eevee! i got her as a thank-you gift for helping out the local pokemon center with a Rotom infestation, and she's just the sweetest thing. ...when she's not knocking over everything on my desk and stealing my chair, that is. despite that, she's still great. she's not that interested in evolving, so i've made sure to get her an everstone to make sure it never happens by accident. she likes to sit on my head/shoulders while i walk around the city, which has gotten more than a few pictures from tourists. (youve probably seen some if you follow a few travelers from Sinnoh, they tend to be the ones who are most excited by it for some reason) if you ever see me with her, feel free to say hi!

Woshua

Woshua is my faithful Dewott (named when they were younger, but they refuse to let me change it now) who i bumped into while on a short business trip down to Nuvema Town. they had climbed into my bag when i sat down to rest, and i couldn't convince them to climb out no matter what i tried. eventually i gave up and just carried on. while on the way out of Nuvema, i stopped by Professor Juniper's lab to see if she knew what to do with this random Oshawott. she was out, but her assistant, a girl named Bianca, told me that she'd been looking everywhere for the little scamp. the second she saw their face though, she told me that it'd probably be better in the long run if i kept them with me, so i ended up taking them home. they're pretty headstrong, but they get along well with Vertex at least!

???

this one's, uh... kinda a weird story? they're not actually one of my pokemon, per se, but i like to think we're friends now. for the sake of not having every world government, evil team, AND this particular pokemon get on my case, im just gonna say i accidentally stumbled across a not-so-human-friendly psychic pokemon while taking the extremely scenic route in a forest im not gonna name. (i definitely wasn't lost, i swear.) we just kinda looked at each other for a minute before i turned around and walked away, because im not stupid enough to mess with a random pokemon that was telepathically threatening to disintegrate me. theres a bit more to it that came later, but everything after that interaction is gonna have to be redacted for the sake of everyone involved, human and pokemon alike.

aaaand thats about it! if you have any questions, feel free to ask me anytime!

#unreality #pokemon #pokeblogging #pkmn irl

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violetjedisylveon · 2 years ago

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I posted 3,114 times in 2022

That's 2,586 more posts than 2021!

260 posts created (8%)

2,854 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@moonmeg

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@starwarstbbfan

@ito-itonomen

I tagged 2,820 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#reblog - 2,569 posts

#cool art! - 362 posts

#cute art! - 308 posts

#toh - 230 posts

#vjs - 216 posts

#star wars - 102 posts

#sad art - 98 posts

#the owl house - 87 posts

#vjs au:p - 68 posts

#toh fanart - 61 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#someone needs to make their own visual media company that doesn't make creators fight for representation and absolutely dunk on disney

My Top Posts in 2022:

Intruder

Summary: Eda stumbles upon an unknown Island and meets a powerful kid she assumes to be an orphan raising their brother. With some insitance from a certain annoying bird brain, she slowly starts to build up trust between herself and the orphaned Collector.

Word count: 6.4k (totally didn't forget this)

Warnings: Swearing, manipulation, child abuse, trauma, denial, sick kid.

A/N: a 3/4 baked fic for a 3/4 baked AU! The Collector is a traumatized baby now, you're welcome.

He Hatched (art/AU explination), Eda raises two gods AU here. Ao3 link here.

________________________________________________________________________________

Someone was on the island.

There was a stranger.

They sat up and checked on their brother, he was sleeping soundly. He was a heavy sleeper. That was good.

They picked him up gently and carried him over to his little hidey hole, placing him securely in the soft fabric of their hat. He liked sleeping in their hat.

They scratched between his horns and he cooed softly. They chuckled, he was so cute.

They left him sleeping while they went to check out the intruder.

The Guard was making it's rounds. It must not have detected the threat yet.

Small rocks fell far ahead. Cursing followed, sounds echoing through the empty stone halls.

They snuck closer, flying so as not to alert the intruder to their presence.

They caught a glimpse of orange near the entrance. There was someone in their home.

"Who's there?!"

They backed out of the sudden beam of light shot towards them. They didn't like others in their home.

"Go away." They called out.

The light swivled towards them, they covered their eyes and hissed.

"Wha- you're a kid! What are you doing here?" The stranger asked.

They backed out of the brightness and got a better look at the stranger.

She was a witch, she had fluffy short orange hair, was wearing a lot a red, had an owl staff, and somehow had a familiar presence.

"I live here with my baby brother, we're waiting for Dad to come back." They said.

Dad is coming back! He is, he is! He's not the Isles, he's not! Philip lied. He's a liar, liar pant on fire! Dad's coming for us! He pinky promised! They swore to themself.

The witch gave him a sympathetic look, pity. They didn't like pity, they didn't want it.

"Go please, you'll wake my brother, then he'll be upset and I'll be upset." They told the witch.

"It's raining, kid, I can't do that." The witch gestured outside at the rain.

They cocked their head to the side.

See the full post

127 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

One of my favorite thinga to do when reading a Clone Wars era Star Wars fic that has Obi-Wan and Cody interacting at all, is replace stuff like 'his general' 'his commander' 'his Jedi', with stuff like 'his husband' and 'his boyfriend'.

It's just really, really funny.

Like serious conversation happening in fic, Cody says something like 'my general is on his way as we speak' and it becomes, 'my husband is on his way as we speak'.

It's just fun.

128 notes - Posted June 7, 2022

Collector and King Brothers AU Anyone?

AU where King's dad saw the Collector and went; 'Is anyone gonna be that god kid's parental figure?' And didn't wait for an answer. The Collector gets traumatized and manipulated by Philip. Then Eda finds the Collector and King and went; 'is anyone gonna take care of these kids?' And also didn't wait for an answer.

First chapter here

Why? I dunno, I have a lot of AUs already so here's another.

Long summary of AU the cut ⬇

So the Collector gets a dad and he teaches them how to be gentle because everyone else is fragile and easily breakable.

After being adopted, the Collector did catch the Owl Beast, because it was hurt and they helped it get better and the Owl Beast kinda just stuck around cause this funky little star child is pretty cool.

The Titan Trappers don't have the Collector helping them kill the Titans but they still somehow managed to kill a lot of the Titans, probably by manipulating the Collector into it.

The Owl Beast got really badly hurt in a fight so the Collector transformed it into a curse to allow it to recover but then lost it. They were really upset their friend was gone.

King's dad hides the Collector with King's egg and tells them to watch after King.

Now you can interoperate the drawing as the Collector actually talking to King's dad, but they're really talking to one of the murals of him on King's island.

Why? because angst :)

So King's dad dies and the Collector is alone with King's egg and the gooy guard thing(I forgot it's name) for centuries.

The Collector left the island a few times over the course of King's incubation period, mostly cause they got a little bored and needed something to do/eat, but he always came back to watch their lil bro.

On their last time out, they ran into Philip and, because they were taught stranger danger, they wanted nothing to do with him at first. Philip ended up lying/manipulating the Collector into trusting him and teaching him some things, like sigils and some stronger magic.

The Collector was really lonely and upset and blaming themself because it was partly their fault that the Titans died even if King's dad told him it was really their fault, so they were easier to manipulate than he normally would've been.

So Philip added another child to his 'Children I've manipulated/traumatized' list, he betrayed them when he found out that he was hiding something powerful, the Collector got hurt by Philip, which is where that scars from, so now the Collector doesn't trust him and is a little scared of him.

After the Philip situation, The Collector didn't leave King's island again and they were very distrusting of humans and witches.

Then King hatched and the Collector was super happy that his little brother was okay and safe and they could play with someone again. The Collector is very protective of King.

Eda still gets cursed by Lilith, she still finds the hidden island with King and the Collector on it later, partly because the Owl Beast sorta guided her there.

The Collector didn't like Eda on their island, and attacked her at first because they're traumatized and distrusting of everyone now.

Eda got them to calm down and talk a bit, they don't talk much now, they told her that he was protecting their baby brother from the bad witches and that they would like it if Eda left and didn't tell anyone.

Eda left but, she got worried about this kid living alone on a remote, uncharted island with a baby apparently, and the Owl Beast went into mom mode and kept trying to get back to the island with dead animals to feed the kids.

Eda went back to the island a few times and slowly built up trust with the Collector, enough that when Eda discovered little baby King, the Collector wasn't super mad cause King was a little sick and they sorta trusted Eda enough to let her help.

Tldr:

Eda slowly befriended the Collector and then brought them and King to the Owl House. Oh, and Eda calls the Collector Enzo.

So Eda unknowingly adopted two gods, and the Owl Beast decided, these are my kids even though one is older than me.

King gets his name, and Eda begrudgingly accepts that she is now a mom, then decided to be a better mom than hers was cause things still aren't good between them.

The Collector is scared of Philip/Belos, Eda didn't know why cause the Collector doesn't talk much and she's not going to pry into this clearly traumatized child, so she just does what she can for them. He gets some therapy, their therapist comes to the Owl House cause he doesn't like going out much.

Eda gives the Collector an illusion disguise with a concealment stone so they can feel more safe when they go out and less scared of getting spotted by Belos. The disguise just makes them look like a witch.

See the full post

151 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

Flapjack going through his list of witches and demons that would make a good parent for his witch: Darius, Owl lady, Owl lady sister, Principal guy, Raine, Eberwolf...*proceeds to list every adult in the entire boiling isles census.*

Flapjack: okay, anyone, litterally anyone is better than the fucker he's living with now!

*Flapjack puts 'adopt me' sign on the back of Hunter's cape and waits for something to happen*

827 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

Pls ignore My #1 post of 2022, it's the 1 politically related thing I have. And I don't like politics.

The Earn It Act hurts everyone! Don't let it pass!

Sign the petitions here

Here(resist.bot)

here(change.org)

And check the reblogs, a lot of people have left links to websites discussing what this act does and how you can help fight it.

22,682 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #VJS Tumblr year in review #VJS

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artqueen02 · 2 years ago

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I posted 121 times in 2022

That's 121 more posts than 2021!

18 posts created (15%)

103 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dizzypiglinz

@aroaceconfessions

@ace-aussie-asshole

@litners-lending-library

@compassionatereminders

I tagged 42 of my posts in 2022

#carry on - 4 posts

#asexual - 3 posts

#snowbaz - 3 posts

#gay - 3 posts

#simon snow series - 3 posts

#awtwb - 2 posts

#long post - 2 posts

#(depending on how long it takes/the amount of notes this gets i might give a hint) - 2 posts

#ttp - 2 posts

#spotify wrapped - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#im hooked on the simon snow series although i’ve finished the books i wanna read snow for xmas but i can’t get scattered showers anywhere

My Top Posts in 2022:

OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY I NEED A VER SPECIFIC SORT OF SNOWBAZ FIC RN: SECRET DATING (AT WATFORD NO NON MAGICAL AU OR ANYTHING) AND PENNY GETTING SUS AND BEING A DETECTIVE AND FINDING OUT OR LIKE THEM TELLING HER JUST BEFORE SHE FIGURES IT OUT HERSELF OR KIKE HER WALKING IN ON RHEM SNUGGLING OR KISSING OR JUST BEING LIKE CUTE LIL BOUFRIENDS OR SKMETHING UST PEN FINDING OUT SOMEHOW PREFERABLY ON AO3

(no smut please)

4 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

I was suprised by the lack of genderbent snowbaz for the wlw coc prompt so I made a thing. I litterally wrote this in half an hour, and it hasnt been BETA'd or proofread so its really short thats fun.

Cw: brief mention of breasts but in like a very non-sexual way

also dysphoria ig?

It went sorta angsty i swear that was not intended

anyways under the cut

Read It On AO3

Baz

Crowley I hate this so much.

My hair is too long. And I cant get comfortable with these infernal breasts. Aleister Crowley.

Some fourth year was trying to help their friend with a transitioning spell and completely butcherd it and now everyone on campus is cursed with being in the wrong body for a day.

Though I suppose for some it would be the right body. For some it would be more of a blessing than a curse.

Not for me.

Snow is sitting next to me, raking his (Her? His.) fingers through my hair and trying to convince me that its all going to be okay. Aleister Fucking Crowley, Snow, of course its not going to be okay, this is an absolute disaster.

What if it dosent go away after a day?

“Hey, Baz, love? This is all gonna work out, you know? The spell will wear off after a day - maybe two at the longest - and everything will be back to normal - no, not Normal just normal”

I don’t respond

“Love? We should probably get up and get dressed now, hey? We have to get to class”

Merlin and Morganna I dont have any clothes. I make no effort to move, there’s no way I’m going to class today.

“Okay love, you can stay here, but I’m going to go to classes today, okay?”

He moves arround the room, getting ready for the day. Once hes ready to leave, he stops by my bed.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?”

“Yeah” No

He kisses me, and its all wrong. Nothing’s the right shape, nothing fits. I pull away and hide under my quilts. (Because I’m pathetic) (Ask anyone).

“Alright, love. Im gonna head off now okay? I’ll check in on you between clasess, if you want to talk about anything, let me know, alright?”

4 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

Okay so I’m listening to love and luck rn and I have come to the conclusion that Kane and Jason are literally Drew and Harrison from kaleidotrope just in a different lifetime

ALSO I NEED MORE GAY FICTIONAL PODCASTS LIKE THE TWO PRINCES, KALEIDOTROPE, AND LIVE AND LUCK A SAPPHIC ONE WOULD BE GOOD

6 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

Just got my period and feeling extremely sapphic and In need of a gf to cuddle in the middle of the night

6 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Nico likes

Because

Isn’t his type

21 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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hephaestuscrew · 3 years ago

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Minkowski's Position as Commander: An Attempted Analysis

TLDR: Increasingly as the show progresses, Minkowski's role as Commanding Officer of the Hephaestus is not about the position given her by Goddard but is instead about a choice that she and her crew continually make.

At the start of the series, Minkowski very much believes that she derives her authority from the position given her by Goddard Futuristics. It's clear that this military chain of command is really important to her. For example, when Hilbert attempts to leave Minkowski to die in space, the main thing she says to try to persuade him to let her in is:

This is treason. This is a betrayal of your commanding officer.

[CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT]

It's quite revealing that Minkowski thinks that military protocol / her role as Commanding Officer provides the most powerful reason for Hilbert not to kill her, even though he has known her for nearly two years and they have generally been on quasi-friendly terms.

After Hilbert's Christmas mutiny (and to a certain extent even before that), the Hephaestus crew know that Command cannot be trusted. The authority that initially conferred a position of power onto Minkowski has lied to them all and is actively malicious. So past that point, Minkowski's status as Commander isn't really determined by the fact that Goddard Futuristics gave her that position, because the crew have no reason to obey Goddard anymore. The basis of her authority no longer comes from Goddard, but more from a kind of unspoken agreement that someone needs to be in charge and it ought to be her. As rebellious as Eiffel and Hera both are, neither of them actually question Minkowski's status as Commanding Officer. It's true that they often don't obey her orders, but when they go against what she's said, it is with a conscious sense that they are disobeying not just another crew member, but their commanding officer.

The next major wrench to be thrown at Minkowski's Commander status is the arrival of Lovelace, who is arguably more qualified to be Commander than Minkowski. Not only has Lovelace commanded the Hephaestus herself (and for a longer period of time than Minkowski has), her title of Captain outranks Minkowski's title of Lieutenant. In Lovelace and Minkowski's power struggle after Lovelace's arrival, they are both coming from a perspective of "I was here first". Lovelace commanded that ship first, but Minkowski commanded that crew first and that ultimately gives her more power. Minkowski remains the Commander of the Hephaestus because the crew know her and trust her.

Eventually Lovelace comes to trust Minkowski too and to view her as the rightful Commander of the Hephaestus. In S3 and S4, she often backs up Minkowski's authority and tells the others that they ought to follow Minkowski's orders.

When Kepler shows up, there's a new official Commanding Officer of the Hephaestus. The si-5 declare that Minkowski is stripped of the title of Commander. Of course, I couldn't write this post without mentioning this iconic exchange:

EIFFEL I'm glad to see you too, Commander.

MINKOWSKI You heard the new boss, you don't need to call me that anymore.

EIFFEL Uh, yeah, they can go screw themselves. The entire universe will freeze before you're not the Commander of the Hephaestus.

Minkowski is ready to accept that she's no longer the Commander, because a part of her still thinks leadership is determined by the official chain of command. But Eiffel doesn't accept that. And he's not the only one who still acknowledges Minkowski as leader despite the arrival of the SI-5. Although her programming prevents her from addressing Minkowski as Commander, Hera believes that:

Lieutenant Minkowski's still the one who gives the marching orders.

Throughout Season 3, there's the sense of a crew-within-a-crew on the Hephaestus. Sure, Kepler is officially the overall commanding officer, but to Eiffel, Hera, Lovelace and even Hilbert to a certain extent, Minkowski is their true leader. Even though Lovelace and Hilbert do go behind Minkowski's back, they still seem to have a sense that a mutiny ought to have her Say So.

Another interesting element is that, in the eyes of Command, Minkowski was never the highest ranking crew member on the Hephaestus. Kepler confirms this in Ep48 when he says that the "Highest ranking member of each crew was briefed on the possibility" of a Theta scenario and that for both Hephaestus missions that was Hilbert. To Goddard Futuristics, Minkowski was the Commander in name only.

The Hephaestus crew (by which I mean everyone except the si-5) treat leadership as something official and codified, but not as something conferred by external authority. They follow a policy where one person has to be clearly designated as the Commander, but where Goddard Futuristics does not determine who that person is. This approach is displayed in Ep47 when Minkowski asks Lovelace to take over command of the Hephaestus. Minkowski's status as Commander is proved to have been a choice, because she can also choose not to be Commander. This choice is a personal one. There's no military protocol involved, just a discussion between two friends and the handing over of a title.

It's also worth noting Lovelace's reluctance to take over the role of commanding officer and her insistence that this is a temporary arrangement. Her reaction demonstrates how much she has come to see Minkowski as the rightful Commander. S2 Lovelace would have responded very differently.

When Minkowski becomes Commander again in Ep53, she has another conversation which reveals a lot about her attitude towards leadership. I'm just going to put the whole long quote here because I think it's all very relevant to what I've been talking about:

MINKOWSKI It's just... there's been all these times when somebody put me in situation where I was "in charge," but I wasn't... in control. I can't think of a decision in my life that wasn't already determined by someone else. But... even then, there was always a choice. I always made it. Even when I didn't realize I was making it. So now... I think I need to make choices by myself. For myself.

LOVELACE Aaaaand does that mean you're perhaps ready to take command of a certain space station again?...

MINKOWSKI No. Because I've never been in command, I can't retake it. But, if you'll allow me, sir, I would be honored to relieve you of your duties, and assume command of the U.S.S. Hephaestus Station.

Lovelace SMILES, and salutes Minkowski.

LOVELACE About friggin' time, sir.

Here it's made explicit that the question of Minkowski's status as Commander is tied into themes of choice and responsibility and control over one's own life. Minkowski recognises that her starting the Hephaestus mission as Commander was a choice made for her by Goddard (this is especially true because Minkowski applied to be just a Navigations Officer, not a Commander). Her continuing to be Commander was a choice, but it didn't feel like one to her at the time. To some extent, it was a choice she made passively (although I think her crew actively chose to follow her).

This conversation shows how Minkowski's view of leadership has changed dramatically. At the beginning of the series, she probably would have said that Goddard's choice to designate her Commander was what made her a Commander. She probably would have said that was how leadership ought to be determined. But by Ep53, she no longer wants to be dependent on the decisions of others to decide her role. Being Commander is not only a choice, it is now a choice she makes consciously and independently. She doesn't really have any more control over their circumstances when she retakes command in Ep53 than she did before handing over command in Ep47. Nonetheless her decision to make active choices for herself is still a significant one, because it reflects a paradigm shift.

Of course, there is some cruel irony in the fact that very soon after this conversation Minkowski is put under Pryce's mind control. Sometimes the choice to take control of our lives is taken away. Notably though, Eiffel still calls her Commander when she's not even able to command her own actions. And when she does regain her autonomy, she automatically assumes command of a new crew-within-a-crew (Eiffel, Hera, Lovelace, and Jacobi).

Cutter recognises how important Minkowski's role as Commander is to her. In the finale, he tells her:

People cared about you because of what I made you: A soldier. A leader. A commander. I gave you that

But I would argue that this isn't true. Yes, it was Cutter who initially gave Minkowski the title of "Commander", but that was never what made her a leader. Goddard never saw Minkowski as a leader. They saw her as a tool. She became a leader in her own right because she strived to do the right thing for her crew and because her crew trusted her to lead them.

For a final example of how important Minkowski's role as Commander is to her, here's what she says to reintroduce herself to Eiffel after the memory wipe:

Hi. My name is Renée Minkowski. I'm the Commander of this space station.

At this point, Minkowski knows that the space station in question is not going to exist for much longer. She knows its been a long time since Goddard would have said she was the Commanding Officer of the Hephaestus in any sense. And yet, the second thing she wants Eiffel to know about her is that she is the Commander. She asks him to call her Renée, but she still wants him to view her as a commanding officer. This makes sense when we recognise that the trust of her crew - and of Eiffel in particular - has been the essential foundation of her status as Commander after the foundation from Goddard fell away.

Throughout the course of Wolf 359, with the various revelations about Command and with the arrivals of Lovelace, the si-5 and eventually Cutter & Co., the official reasons to classify Minkowski as the Hephaestus' commanding officer are eroded. But Minkowski still ends the show as a Commander. She's the one who decides whether they are going to stay and try to stop Cutter's plan (the others recognise that it's up to her even when they disagree with her initial decision to leave without trying to fight Cutter). Lovelace calls her Commander even after the Hephaestus is gone. Minkowski represents the ship when speaking to Earthspace ATC. And she's the one who finally brings the crew home.

#I swear this was gonna be a short post but I got carried away and wrote an essay #And there's still so much more to say!!#As ever feel free to add on or let me know your thoughts #I just think the way that leadership is portrayed in w359 is super interesting #Like Minkowski's leadership is not democratic exactly #but it is somewhat determined by the crew in a way that doesn't fit with standard military protocol #renee minkowski #renée minkowski #wolf 359 #w359 #the empty man posteth #Wolf 359 meta #W359 meta

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transgenderboobs · 4 years ago

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i think martin and jon have compatible love languages. like the way they express their love is kind of exactly what the other needs.

like jon has proven to be the more effusive of the two with his affection. he had trouble coming to terms with how he felt but as soon as he did he’s been verbally affectionate with martin ever since. he’s settled into words of affirmation Perfectly.

and i think that’s exactly what martin needs. like, look at the shit with his mom. this is the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally. so what does it matter if she never says it? if she pushes him away and refuses to see him and instead decides she wants someone else to look after her? this is his mom there’s no way she doesn’t love him.

but then it turns out she just. didn’t. she hated him for something he had no control over; she hated him for just existing as him. so if the one person who was supposed to love him no matter what, the one person whose love was supposed to just be a given in this world, didn’t actually love him, i imagine he’s gonna have a hard time believing anyone else would actively choose to love him and will need to be reminded of it.

so jon fucking reminds him of it. he tells martin he loves him until it just comes off his tongue like second nature, casual as anything like he’s said it a million times before. he sits down and tells martin he is important to him and admits that martin is his Reason to keep going and is always sure to remind martin he cares for him.

and then there’s martin. who shows he cares with his actions, and yeah i think his care-taking instincts might not have the healthiest origins but he is very much an acts of service guy. he Takes Care Of Jon.

and these past four years we’ve seen jon be self sacrificial to a fault, having very little regard for his own health or safety or his own life at all. he’s been beat to hell and back and attacked verbally and physically and almost murdered. everyone around him casts him as The Archivist and decides he can handle his own shit. he’s described repeatedly as looking haggard and sleep deprived.

jon doesn’t really believe he deserves to care for himself, much less that anyone else should have to care about him. he’s not even human in his own eyes, right? but martin cares for him.

martin makes jon tea and tells him to sleep and bullies him into going out for lunch when he knows jon hasn’t eaten and Worries over him when he’s hurt and makes him take time off when he’s working himself to the bone and tells him to rest and take it easy even when the world is ending. he shows jon he loves him in every little action, by being gentle with jon when jon is the Least gentle with himself, which is exactly what someone who’s kind of given up the ghost re: taking care of himself at all needs.

anyway. they have a healthy relationship and even when they have disagreements and rough patches they communicate and work through it and i think they’re perfect for each other the end thank u goodnight

#i'm SO SORRY this is SO LONG what the FUCK #this was gonna just be like a short paragraph i swear but i got carried away #loverboy wordz #tma #otp: i need him to be okay #long post #tma s5

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ellemfaoh · 2 years ago

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Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 3 | Vance Hopper X Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4

Word Count: 4.4k

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Rivalry, Angst, Fluff

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Swearing, Female Reader Implied/Mentioned, Descriptors of character deaths, Blood, Beatings

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You one day get detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: As an apology for taking so much longer to post this, I made it a little extra long <3

A/N 2.0: Also we are so close to actually seeing action, I’m just a sucker for slow burns 💔

——————————————

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” You shouted at the masked man, backing up on the old mattress he placed you on, rusty springs creaking under your weight.

The Grabber gave a heavy sigh. “I really don’t like repeating myself. I’m sure that spray doesn’t affect your memory.”

This was a sick joke. You must’ve angered whatever god was out there because for the past two months your life was nothing but a roller coaster of hell. Your encounters with Vance, your hair, your reputation being ruined, and now your kidnapping. Did you do something in a past life to deserve this? You were an average middle school student: average grades, average friend group, average life. You never did anything risky or illegal and you helped out when you could—which is what got you into this mess. Maybe this was a lesson to be learned.

“Now, how about I get you some soda to calm you down? You like sprite?” His voice seemed a little singsongy—which really creeped you out, especially when he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You stay here and don’t try anything. This room is soundproof anyways, so no one will hear you.”

When The Grabber left, closing the heavy metal door with a slam, a loud click of the handle locking echoing around the room just a moment later. That’s when the dread fully sunk in. You were stuck in a creepy man’s basement with absolutely no way out. The floor was linoleum tile, the walls were solid concrete (with a weird orange strip stain all over them), and the window was probably around 8 feet high. Maybe that explained why he didn’t bother to put bars there yet considering everyone he’s kidnapped so far were pretty short. Billy was probably an average height, but Griffin was pretty short. He was also eleven years old—the youngest out of the victims so far.

You walked around the space you’d be occupying until your probable death, looking at the weird little hallway area with the toilet and a few rugs. Nothing of interest. How the hell are you supposed to use rugs to escape. When you walked back to the bed you noticed the black phone hanging on the wall, quickly running over to it and attempting to dial a number. When you held the receiver to your ear and heard nothing, not even a static fuzz, you realized it wouldn’t work. Suspicions confirmed when you looked at the snipped phone line.

“Damn it!” You yelled, slamming the phone back on the dialer. You slid down to the floor with stinging eyes and a tight throat. “I’m gonna die here. I didn’t even get to see my parents last night or this morning.” Sniffling, you curled your head into your knees. “And the last person I hung out with was Vance.”

Then the phone rang.

——————

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Vance shouted at the cops in front of him. “I watched the mother fucker shove her in that fucking black van and drive off! I have her backpack right here! If I did anything do you think I’d keep her shit?!”

“Hopper, please relax. No one is saying you’re lying. We were just asking if you got the events correct.”

“Of course I did! It happened barely an hour ago.” He said, taking in a deep breath and exhaling angrily. “I don’t hang with that fuckface, but I’m not about to let a kidnapping go!”

The room was quiet, police officers of the small Denver town looking at Vance and then each other. They all knew the boy well—he’d never come to the cops of his own free will. Usually people were coming to them about him. One of the secretaries was on the phone with the (Y/L/N) family already, informing them of the grave news and telling them to come to the station as soon as possible.

One of the officers, an older guy who frequently dealt with Vance, placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic smile. “We know you’re worried, boy. We’ll find her.”

Vance grumbled and stood up, face flushed. Embarrassment and anger most likely. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

As he walked out of the station, Vance made his way back over to where you were abducted. Maybe he’d be able to find you without the cops, he was the one that watched you get taken after all. When he walked up to the curb where he found your bag, he looked for any hints. The black balloons in the tree were the only thing so far that was solid and concise evidence. The van had quickly pulled out and driven to the left, going straight for a little while—or at least until he lost sight of it.

He decided to walk down the street and through the neighborhoods he passed occasionally. The kidnapper would be stupid to leave his van outside in broad daylight, especially since he knew Vance saw it just as clearly as you. He mostly scanned the houses, looking at the exterior and trying to feel the vibes. Some houses looked really gross and rickety, then there were the others that definitely housed a nice, big, happy family. Maybe that house he just passed was the Yamada’s. Vance had no idea how Bruce would react to your disappearance. For as long as anyone amongst your graduating class knew, you and Bruce had known each other for as long as possible.

How the hell was he supposed to find you like this? There are definitely a few thousand people in this buttfuck nowhere Denver town, he thought. He’d have to scour the streets for clues, look at people and analyze them. He’d figure this out. He knew the cops were doing a half-assed job with this case so far. You were person three, so that made this serial, but he’d been in the station while they mentioned a few things about the cases, some of them being brushed off. He really only trusted that old guy. Day 0, and he was determined to find you before the week was over.

——————————————

How many hours have you been down here? It felt like it’d been weeks, but you knew by the dead darkness outside and inside the room that the day ended. You had nothing down here; just the mattress you were on, the toilet, and yourself. You never thought you’d miss laying and doing nothing in your room more than now. Oh, you also had the ghost phone. You almost didn’t believe it when the phone rang, but you picked it up immediately. Even if it would’ve been a fluke, you’d hope and pray for anything you could get.

“Hello?! Hello?! Can anyone help me?!”

It was silent for a little while and you lost hope, leaning against the wall and covering your teary eyes while taking deep breaths to calm yourself down before you broke down. Your hand had drifted from your head to your hip, the phone knocking against the wall. When you opened your eyes and saw the image of a bloody and dead Griffin, you screamed, letting the phone go out of shock. You were in disbelief. You were scared. You were probably hallucinating too. The boy’s mouth was bobbing up and down. Was he talking? You grabbed the phone and pressed it to your ears, listening for any sort of noise.

“D…n’t cr…”

The words through the receiver were crackled and sounded like a whispered gargle. You could barely stand to look over at Griffin, his throat slit and body riddled with welts and blood. Now though, he seemed to be standing closer to you, not contorted in whatever hellish position you had first seen him in.

“What?” You sniffled, wiping your nose and eyes. “You…what do you mean?”

“Don’t cry.” The boy said, pausing for a moment. “Don’t let him see you like this. He loves it.” Silence again.

“You…you’re Griffin. You were the first to go missing. How am I talking to you?”

“I don’t know. Your name is the first thing you forget—All I know is that you should stop crying before he comes back. He loves seeing kids cry.” Griffin looked around at the room. “I had something to tell you, but I can’t remember. It had something to do with a door.”

“You know how to get out of here?!”

“No. The front door. There’s a padlock there, it’s the code used for my bike lock.” You waited for him to continue, give you the code or something. “I think the code is-”

“Put the phone down.” You jumped, Billy’s voice and any static the receiver had going dead. “That stupid thing doesn’t work anyways. Hasn’t worked since I was a kid.”

You placed the phone back on the wall slowly, glaring at the man as he stood in the doorway watching you. Why he came down here you wouldn't know. He squatted down and looked up at you. You felt a chill go up your spine, his beady eyes staring up at you gave you the heebie-jeebies. Why did he sit lower? Was this some way to play a mind trick on you? Make you feel empowered when he could actually take you out immediately?

“Why me?” You asked, taking the opportunity. You had a feeling you’d probably end up dying. You just wanted to know why. “Why do you do this to me? Why’d you grab me?”

He stood up, standing for a moment before walking over to you. Your heart dropped into your feet, your legs paralyzed in fear. Was he gonna beat you for asking? Maybe he’d stab you and teach you a lesson. His hand lifted up to tilt your head to look up at him, tucking a stray piece of hair back. His hands were cold, his demeanor threatening, but his voice sounded light and cheery. It was sick.

“I guess I’m aiming for someone else by taking you first. I don’t usually kidnap girls.” He stepped back, looking at you whole again. “Maybe after this though, I’ll consider it a little more.”

You nearly puked. Aiming for someone else? Did he mean Vance? Or Bruce? Was he stalking you guys? You hung out with them often—though Vance was less of a choice. He would consider kidnapping more girls ‘after this?’ Did that mean after he killed you he’d go for more? Your thoughts drifted over to kids you knew. Gwen, the girl who could see things in her dreams. You knew her from Amy, Bruce’s little sister. They hung out at the Yamada’s place together sometimes too. You couldn’t imagine either of them getting kidnapped.

“Don’t you even think about touching anyone else you sick fuck.” You cursed at him, an angry glare on your face.

“Wow, but of a potty mouth here.” He chuckled, eyes cold as he grabbed your hair and squeezed. “I suggest you behave well, you don’t want to act like the last few ‘naughty boys’ I’ve had recently. They didn’t have a very fun time.”

You cried out in pain, the added motion of him shaking your head causing tears to prick your eyes. He really was sick—talking about the previous victims like it was a normal occurrence. You hated everything. You wanted to go home. You wanted to talk with Bruce about stupid things like Mr. Roeder’s bad cover-up for his bald spot or something. You wanted to be sitting in detention ruefully staring at the board as you waited to go home. If only you waited a little longer, or went the longer route that day. You kept talking about yourself in the past-tense and honestly? It helped you prepare to be murdered later as the man let go of your hair and walked out of the room, the heavy lock sliding into place.

“Get me out of here.” You sniffed, sliding down the wall and deciding to let yourself cry. Forget the ghosts of the past boys telling you what to do, you’d cry as hard as he wanted if it meant you could even say goodbye to the people you loved just one last time.

——————————————

Day 3 of the search for you. By now people were desperate. There was a pattern with The Grabber. He wouldn’t kill immediately. No, he preferred to take his time with people. Mind games, physical violence—nobody knew what, but it was something. Vance and everyone else looking for you never would’ve guessed you were just blocks away, about twelve feet under in some dingy basement of a sick man. You lost track of time, all the sleeping and staring into space and random walking around made the minutes seem like hours and the hours seem like days. You hadn’t gotten any other calls recently, so it must’ve been your imagination. Maybe whatever gas you were sprayed with made you loopy.

“How do I get out of here?” You asked yourself, pacing around the room, feet dragging against the linoleum tile. You felt icky too. You hadn’t showered recently, you were dirty from the residue of the room in the air and on the bed. “What the fuck am I supposed to use?”

Suddenly the lights in the room blinked on and you hurriedly dove for the bed, pretending to sleep. You wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction of seeing or hearing your weakness. When the door creaked open and the light behind him poured in the room everything was still. Your breathing was kept even and slow even though your heart was pounding. He never gave any hints towards his intentions to you.

“I know you aren’t asleep.”

Silence.

“Tsk, naughty girl.” He said angrily, any singsong tone he had previously was gone.

You slowly sat up, turning your head to face him with an angry look. He held a tray with a plate of shitty looking eggs and an open bottle of soda. You didn’t even realize how hungry and thirsty you were until you saw the food. Stomach growling, your hand slid over your stomach. You couldn’t see The Grabber’s face—he was wearing a full mask today—but you could see the crinkle of his eyes as he (probably) smirked at you. Weakening you physically and mentally by hunger, what a fucking piece of shit.

“Why would I eat that? God knows what you put in it.”

“Eat it, don’t eat it, I don’t care.” He said, placing the tray down and looking up at you. You could almost see the sick and twisted smile of his mask blend in with his face. “I don’t need to drug you. I already have you right where I want you.”

Your heart dropped. Sure you knew your fate was probably already sealed, but it never hurt to have hope. Now though you might as well rip them up and throw them around like doomsday confetti. When the Grabber didn’t leave immediately and kept standing by the door you made a face. Why was he still here? Just leave. You wanted your peace and alone time. You had already cried what felt like all your tears the first day, so you just wanted the silence and stillness of an empty room.

“Why are you still here? Just get out already.”

“Give me a minute, I’m just looking at you.”

Eventually he opened the door and you figured that maybe there’s someone else in the house. There had to be. You took a deep breath and started screaming. Your throat burned and your head hurt, but you made sure to scream as loud as possible before you were stopped. A rough and calloused hand gripped your throat, fingers digging into the flesh and your windpipe slowly being squeezed. You clawed at the hands around your throat, struggling to breathe.

“Naughty. Very naughty girl.” He growled out angrily, pushing you to the floor and he quickly slid off his belt. “Very smart but very stupid girl.”

Your eyes widened as he folded the belt, raising the tough leather over his head. You started pleading even while knowing it was a fruitless effort. You tried to escape in some way, and now he’d punish you for disobeying. When the first strike of the belt hit your stomach, your eyes welled up with tears and you yelped. It didn’t last long—maybe a minute or two at best, but it was some of the worst pain you’ve felt. He left you a sniveling mess on the floor, red welts appearing slowly and blood springing from where your skin had split.

“Next time I suggest you be a little smarter. I should slit your throat for the ruckus you made.” The Grabber said to you, looping the belt around his waist again and muttering something under his breath. “Now I have to talk to him about it.”

“Him?” You hiccuped through tears, looking up at the man who glared at you. He left wordlessly, slamming the door behind him, save for the click of the door lock.

He didn’t lock the door? Not even after this attempt of yours? Did he forget in his rage? You slowly got up, your nerves screaming as your skin stretched as you stood—your stomach and left forearm probably hurt the most. He got you good. As you slowly made your way to the door, your foot knocked into the tray on the floor. Oh right, the food.

You got down on your knees and grabbed a handful of shitty scrambled eggs, stuffing them into your mouth. They weren’t great, hell, these were some of the worst eggs you’ve ever had, but it was better than the taste of hunger. You felt like an animal with how you were eating, and chugging the soda bottle didn’t help your case, but not everyone was perfect. As you wiped your face and kicked the tray off to the side while getting up to get out of this fucking basement the phone rang again. Maybe you died in the beating and this was a dream, but as it kept ringing you were more convinced it wasn’t a dream at all.

“Hello?”

“Don’t go up those stairs.”

“What the fuck? You aren’t Griffin. Why the fuck wouldn’t I try to get out of here?” You sounded bitchy, but you took a moment to think. Who was the other kid that was grabbed before you? “Wait…Billy Showalter?”

“Don’t call me that, and don’t go up the stairs. He’ll beat you with that fucking belt again.”

“If he doesn’t want me to escape then why would he leave the door unlocked?”

“He’s playing ‘Naughty Boy’ with you. I guess it’d be ‘Naughty Girl’ with you but still. You pissed him off just now and he wants to see if you really are as stupid as he thinks.”

“Hey–”

“Listen to me.” His voice was stern and heavy. He was taking no shit. “You already got hit a few times. That’s only a fraction of what his beatings actually feel like. He beats you to death and it hurts real fucking bad”

“What…” You started, choking slightly on your words. What could you do? How could this dead kid help you at all? “What am I supposed to do?”

“Play his sick game differently than he expects. Don’t be naughty. Don’t let him see you doing anything like scratching stuff on the walls or trying to get out of here. He won’t kill you unless he feels like he’s won his little game. You have time. He got me after two weeks, and he got the other one after his first. Poor kid almost got out of here too.”

Griffin almost made it out? He mentioned a lock on the door. It was his lock right? You couldn't help but shudder at the thought of poor Griffin dying violently to such a sick man at such a young age.

“Oh yeah, and there’s a cable hidden under the crack in the walls by the hallway. Use that somehow—don’t let my work be put to waste.”

“You got it, Paperboy.”

——————————————

Day 5 and Vance was still looking for you. He’d cut school to scour the streets for the black van or any sign of that fucker’s face. He’d threaten anyone that muttered a slight insult of your or Griffin’s or Billy’s names. He might’ve been an asshole, but he met the sick fucker that kidnapped you guys. He knows how it was out of your guys’ control. Your kindness was your weakness, but he figured the other two probably got tricked the same way. Helping out a stranger that needed help.

“Hey!” Vance heard his dad shout from his car, making the blonde jump. Shit, he’d get in trouble for skipping again. “Come here, Vance!”

Vance slowly trudged over to the family car; a beat up and dark blue 1972 Oldsmobile Cutlass. While Vance might’ve had his tough-guy persona on display constantly he didn’t exactly enjoy being chewed out by his dad, especially not in public. The boy kept his head down, refusing to look up for fear that he’d see the angry look the older man was giving him.

“If you’re gonna skip school to look for your friend, then can you swing by some of the shops and pick up our orders? Your mom would really appreciate it.”

Vance looked up in surprise. He wasn’t going to be yelled at? No anger? Just understanding? He almost didn’t believe it, just nodding in dumbfounded shock. His dad told him the shops needed, gave the blonde a pat on the shoulder, then drove off. After all of this, Vance finally snapped out of it.

“What the fuck?”

——————

One one last shop to stop by for the day. The utility store. His dad ordered some rope and chain for work, and his mom ordered cleaners for the house. Basic shit he could drag home and then keep looking. That’s how most of Vance’s days went now. Search for you for a while, hit the Grab N Go for pinball then rinse and repeat. Walking into the store, he started talking to one of the cashiers, giving the family’s last name and waiting for the guy to get the bag for him.

As he leaned against the counter and looked around while waiting, some other guy came up to the counter with a shop basket of things. Rope, tape, locks, and a bunch of other what seemed like miscellaneous things. Vance turned his head and looked up at the man, instantly seeming to forget how to breathe. Holy shit. The Grabber was right next to him.

He looked just a little different: he didn’t have his hat or sunglasses on, but the blonde could tell it was definitely him. It was in his face. He’d been looking for days to find this man or any sign of you and it just so happened that the little shopping trip his father sent him on led him directly to what he was looking for.

Vance quickly grabbed the bag of his family’s items and walked out. He needed to make sure he wasn’t easily recognizable as the boy who was with you that day. Lucky for him he wasn’t in his usual denim outfit, going with some black jeans, a wife beater, and an old red-and-tan letterman jacket his dad probably used in high school. Vance rummaged around in his pockets, pulling out a hair tie and pulling his hair back into a messy ponytail-bun kind of thing. He was very rushed, prepared to follow the man secretly.

“I should be a cop at this point.” He scoffed to himself.

The moment the Grabber left the store, Vance was on the hunt. With his hair tied up and his outfit styled in a less messy and more proper way he didn’t look super familiar—hopefully. He almost cussed out loud when the man started walking towards a car parked on the street. Fuck, this just got a lot more difficult. The man threw his bag into the trunk roughly and walked to the driver’s door. Wait—what did he buy again? It was something like rope and tape right? Did he see a hunter’s knife in there too? Fuck. Was he going to kill you today?

Vance moved with urgency, acting like he was also walking to a car close by and acting like he was fumbling with his keys as he waited for the Grabber to leave. He’d follow the car by running after it…or something. Damn, he really didn’t think this through huh? Looking around in urgency, he spotted Bruce Yamada not too far away and lucky for the blonde, he was biking. Taking a glance at the creep not too far away it seemed he was moving shit around in his trunk. Okay, he had time.

“Yamada!”

Bruce braked and looked over at Vance, a mixture of emotions swimming on his face. How else was he gonna react when the kid he could blame for your kidnapping showed up, not to mention looking nothing like himself. What was he doing?

“What do you want, Hopper?”

“Your bike.”

“Excuse me?”

“Give me your bike, Bruce—I’m not gonna steal it, I’ll return it to you, but I need to follow someone?”

Bruce turned away from the blonde, an incredulous look on his face. “What the fuck are you on? You don’t talk to anyone for days, skip school ever since Y/N went missing, and now you randomly start pestering me for my bike? You have a lot of fucking nerve V—“

“I need to follow the fucker that kidnapped your best friend, dipshit!” Vance raised his voice, making sure to keep it low so as to not alert The Grabber.

“What?!”

“Give it. I’ll explain later.” Vance yanked the bike from the raven-haired boy and started off after the car that had just left. Shit, what had he gotten himself into?

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