#S I RRR

[milla984]

Like Water For His Fire

Summary: When Ram goes MIA you get nervous... but he's got a very good explanation and you can't really stay mad at him

Pairing: modern AU Ramaraju x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: brief mention of anxiety, mentions of marking, kissing, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 2k

7:56.

The sunset paints the sky orange red and from the bedroom window you can see its reflection on the surface of the nearby lake, as the evening breeze raises silvery ripples on the water. Adjusting the strap of Ram’s tank top on your shoulder you blow a strand of hair off your face then check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time: no texts. Zero missed calls.

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” you repeat under your breath.

You sit on the coverlet and hug his pillow. There’s usually something soothing about putting on his clothes or smelling his perfume - today, however, neither his old top nor the faint traces of his sandalwood and orange peel aftershave on the pillowcase prove to be very effective at keeping your anxiety under control.

You switch to a full alert state when you hear the entry door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. Seconds later Ram stands in front of you looking exhausted, his sleeves rolled up and the first buttons of his shirt undone, and collapses on his side of the bed.

“What happened? Are you okay?” you ask, still a bit nervous.

He nods in silent assent.    

“I tried to call you, why did you turn off your phone?” you ask again and he fumbles in his pocket to hold up the answer, shaped like an intricate spider web of cracks across the black screen.

“I’m getting in the car and this idiot does a swan dive into a puddle,” he explains, “fifteen minutes later I’m stuck in traffic in Madeenaguda. Damn road works!”

It takes a little bit longer than usual for your heart to stop pounding in your stomach and ears. He’s been late in the past but an hour of radio silence forced you to consider all sorts of horrible scenarios, and you need to clear your mind of their negative influence.

“In hindsight… not the best route choice,” he adds, noticing you’re being too quiet. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.”

You shrug: during off-peak hours the NH 65 is the fastest way back, meaning he was trying to come home as soon as he could. And it’s not his fault his phone died on him. “You know me, I worry too much.”

You also care a lot about him, which is why he doesn’t need to hear you live in constant fear of being contacted by the notification officer of his department - a possibility he’s even less likely to discuss than you are.

“Are we good?” he replies, lowering his thick lashes and giving you an innocent doe-eyed stare.

You can see where this is going: the simple thought of it erases all the previous distress and makes you weak at the knees. You throw the pillow at him, practicing your best impression of a seductive pout. “Mister, you’re the Police Guy… why don’t you figure it out?!”

Ram props himself up on one elbow so he can tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. He brushes his thumb across your lower lip, his personal way of telling you he gathered all the evidence that the mere sight of his forearms always lights you up like a neon sign powered by libido. You’re not mad at him - you’re horny for him.

Cheeky bastard.

Needless to say, his shirt has to go; you unfasten the entire row of buttons in a heartbeat and help him take it off. ‘Mouthwatering’ is the word to describe his bare chest, and how on earth does he manage to still look steaming hot after spending a full day at work and a ridiculous amount of time in his car is beyond you.

You nibble on his earlobe before you lick him below the jaw, descending along his Adam’s apple, the muscles of his neck and the dimple between the collarbones. 

You could spend the whole evening teasing his nipples, forced to contain the urge to sink your teeth into his skin because he’s so sensitive he would scream in pain if you bit him; his petite buds harden at the lightest touch so you circle the areolas with the tip of your tongue and suck delicately, twirling a few dark hairs on his navel around your fingers.

“I’m happy you’re here,” you whisper.

His palm caresses your nape, then his mouth reaches yours and you both engage in a playful competition for dominance: now that he’s in your arms you only want to hold him tight and tell him everything’s alright, but he’s impetuous and clings to you as if you’re pure spring water, bound to tame the fire raging inside of him.

There’s no doubt he figured out ages ago the main reason why you wear his clothes or hug his pillow if he’s away: you crave his body, his presence, his weight on top of you, and it isn’t just a matter of lust. He’s not used to be open and vocal about his feelings, nevertheless he’s proven multiple times he’s the kind of man who looks out for the important people in his life and you’re willing to do the same for him; you’ve become each other’s fulfillment of a mutual request for affection and the many positive aspects of your physical relationship are a reflection of a deeper bond.

It’s Ram who wins in the end and traps you under him. He doesn’t bother to take the old tank top off and lifts the hem up to reach your soft belly; once he glides past your mound of Venus you squirm in anticipation, almost hitting him in the chin.

He smirks and you’re tempted to slap the living hell out of him: being so fuckable should be declared illegal.

“Don’t make me kick you for real,” you joke, and Ram smiles again.

Without breaking eye contact he puts both his hands on your hips and rolls down your panties while you lift your tailbone to help him; he pinches your left ankle and lifts your foot, placing your leg on his shoulder.

Reality fades in a blurry ensemble of the last rays of sunset behind the clouds, outside the window, and the hypnotic white noise coming from the a/c unit as you let your fingers run through his hair. Having it ruffled when he’s going down on you is a major turn on for him and you’re dying to please him in return, since you’ve never met another man who was this passionate about the idea of eating you out; he’s also into being praised as a reward for his dedication and you’re happy to oblige, cooing. “You’re so good at this, pandu.”

Ram glances at you, mesmerized. The gentle strokes of his lips grow more and more intense, then he starts to flicker his tongue at such a fast pace that your ragged breath turns into whimpers, to which he replies with low, throaty growls.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he hums, his head still buried between your thighs and his luscious beard, sprinkled with a little gray, rubbing so well on your clit.

You grab a big chunk of his hair at the roots and tug to draw his attention, careful not to hurt him. In your private system of non verbal communication it’s a signal to stop, so he rises to his knees and leans forward for a kiss. You love to taste your ‘sweet nectar’ (as it was referred to in many of the romance novels you read as a teenager) on his mouth; your adult consciousness knows it’s salty, tangy and it’s got a hint of musk to it - still, it’s you and he always enjoys it like you’re a delicious treat.

You also know another part of him is hungry for you, so you make him lay on his back to undo his trousers and pull them down, together with his underwear. He’s hard and impatient, aching to have you wrapped around him. Half of you wants to put you both out of your misery, the other half is determined to take full advantage of your position: you steady yourself on the headboard and straddle him, but first you tuck his leaking cock against his stomach.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you mumble as you slowly buck your hips, moving up and down his length.

This is plain torture for Ram and he clasps his hands at the old tank top, squeezing like a schoolboy who’s just discovered the amazing, silky roundness of your breasts. He’s adorable when his self-control begins to falter and soon his deep groans make you so wet it hurts.

“Jaanu…” he whines, desperate for release.

Using the headboard to keep your balance you guide him to the right spot before you lower yourself onto him. It’s your turn to fondle his chest and play with the dark trail of fuzz blossoming on his sternum and plunging to his groin; every time you separate you can’t stand to be apart and it’s not long before you grind on him to feel his coarse hair tickle your sensitive skin.

You look at him, his beautiful eyes closed and his teeth biting on his lips. He’s holding you so tight by the waist you’re sure he’ll leave a couple of marks and they’re all signs he’s trying to hold back. “I-I’m–”

“Do it,” you cut him off while you pick up your speed.

Ram throws his head backwards and it’s a sight to behold: his usual, brooding self disappears and all that’s visible on his face is peace and content, even if it lasts for a few seconds. You don’t stop rocking your hips until a familiar warmth flows inside of you, and moments later he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you close.

He lifts his knees to dig his feet into the mattress and starts thrusting, set on a mission to give you one of the best orgasms of your life; he drinks the pure pleasure you’re pouring into his mouth with your loud moans, which he eagerly accepts as an incentive to pound you harder and faster.

“I want to make you come,” he mutters on your lips.

The power he has over you is unexplainable: his voice is what sends you over the edge in the end, gasping for air when a powerful jolt of ecstasy hits you and the tension leaving your body almost causes you to collapse on top of him. In fact you flop on your side, breathless and drained of the energy required to pass for a living and functioning human being; your brain is still engaged in the aftermath of the Big O and the single detail you’re able to process is one of your legs, resting across his lap.

Ram snaps out of the post-coital stupor first, in time to pick his shirt off the floor and help you clean your inner thighs - saving you both the trouble of dealing with a complete mess later. The pensive frown is back and you wipe away the shiny trickle of sweat running down his temple, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing he doesn’t seem to notice. 

Once he’s finished cleaning himself up he fixes his trousers in a hurry throwing the shirt back on the floor to snuggle against you, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to trace the outline of his muscles using your fingertips.

“Excuse me… what?!” you laugh, since he’s got his face pressed on your bosom and the words come out muffled if he speaks.

“I think I love you, bangaaram,” he repeats, tilting his head up.

Your heart skips a beat.

He looks at you with his brooding expression again, so you find yourself lost in his dark, soulful eyes for the longest instant. Then you cup his face in your hands and rub your nose against his, kissing him so lightly that your touch is like April rain on his mouth.

“I love you too, Ram.”

@ramcharantitties, @nyotamalfoy, @taylorklaine, @bheemaxrama, @ladydarkey, @astrafangs, @ronaldofandom

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

[poumpatate]

Sometimes I wish I could stop listening to RRR's soundtrack, but then I don't

[cryptidofthekeys]

sna rl ing and g row l ing

bouncing all over the walls of my enclosure bc of no enrichment

im about to c a v e... and learn how to sew and or crochet and make my own sm plushies...  h r n g h

waiting is so ha  rd...

i’ve waited for a y e a r ...or t w o now... i d ont know ho w much long er i ca n k e ep on ho ldin g on...

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[johndonneswife]

does anyone know where i can watch RRR in telugu with english subs :’(

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

This was just such a good reblog talking about this fic and it's first chapter, that I just HAD to reblog it.

Also:

I loved these tags of urs SO much. Like talking some about Mallory. Mentioning Lucy Ann not telling Dipper, and how they are probably gonna have a good laugh when he remembers (lol, they probably are, hahaha). And the stuff u said about Dipper's characterization!

Like yes, it s so good, and it is nice seeing the things u mentioned in the tags here in the fic.

Dipper's characterization is just so good, and I am excited to see more of him and it in this fic, hopefully.

Excited to see more of their parents and Lucy Ann and Mallory (and etc.) too, hopefully, ofc.

Return, to the Scene of the Crime

Playing human again, Alcor makes it longer than he usually does. He's in college now, juggling classes, family, a curious vampire, and a strange, increasingly sinister web of mysteries weaving themselves around him. Without his omniscience to guide the way, he'll have to work hard to get to the bottom of this before it spirals out of control.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

Lucy Ann was asleep when her phone rang. She grumbled and turned over, fishing in her pocket to mute it. Then it rang again, and with a heavy sigh, she cracked open an eyelid to see who it was.

“Alcor,” she muttered. “Ugh… fine, alright.”

Sitting up, she pushed the lid of the coffin open, and shielded her phone from the screams in the funeral home as she put it to her ear.

“Yeah, what?”

“Lucy Ann?”

“Yeah, it’s me, dude.” She rubbed her eyes. “What is it? Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Oh, do you want me to – I can call back-”

“What is it?”

She heard him take a deep breath, and rolled her eyes. She stood up and stretched as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

“I…” he started. “I’m going away for a while. I wanted to call you before I… I won’t be summonable, so I wanted to let you know how to, how to reach me if you need me.”

“Ah, this is one of these Noie deals, huh? Glad you’re finally giving me a heads up.”

“Yeah, I don’t – I-I know how it went last time, I don’t want that to happen again.”

Lucy Ann glanced down at the glove on her hand. He kept going.

“So I’m giving you a special circle you can use to contact me – uh, it’ll break my enchantments, so if it could be an emergencies only kind of thing…?”

“Got it.”

“Okay… yeah, thanks. And if you need to see me in person, I’ll be down in the California Isles. The family’s really nice – they, hah, they actually own a funeral home-”

“No way! In Maine?”

“In- no, California. I just told you-”

“Oh, yeah! Right.” Lucy Ann gave a little chuckle as she looked at an urn. “Sorry, I got carried away there. That would’ve been a hell of a coincidence.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it, uh,” she cleared her throat. “Okay. That sounds good. Thanks for letting me know, Al.”

“Of course. I’ll send the circle to you and then… get set up.” He seemed like he wanted to say more; after a moment, he spoke again. “So, uh, see you in a couple decades?”

“Yeah, see you then,” she said, and then grinned. “Or who knows, maybe I’ll pay a visit.”

“Pay a visit? What?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see if you loosen up a bit without that demon angst you’ve always got going on.” She heard him laugh, and gave a little chuckle herself… but soon it faded, and she cleared her throat again. “Uh, anyway, good luck with that, I guess. See you around.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.”

When Lucy Ann hung up the call, the little joke she’d made about dropping in on him had already slipped her mind. For almost twenty years she went on wandering as she always did, thinking of Alcor only rarely, wondering how he was doing. She wasn’t ever thinking of actually following through on that joke… but, you know, sometimes things don’t happen for anything as grand as fate or careful planning.

Sometimes they just fall into place.

She was bouncing around the Isles when she remembered Alcor. googled the name of that funeral home he’d given her, as she sometimes did – just to see if they were still in business, but she came across a little blog post the owners posted: ‘HE GOT INTO HONORS COLLEGE!!!’ It was a picture of Dipper with a dorky smile and a graduation cap, and she couldn’t help but snicker to herself at the glowing paragraphs his parents had posted to their business page. Jeez, he was still going, wasn’t he? She didn’t want to be rude on the phone, but she was expecting this thing to flame out early as it usually did.

So… he was just living the regular human life, huh?

Huh.

…

Lucy Ann looked around the motel room she was in, decided she didn’t have anything interesting going on, and started packing.

______________________________________________________________

“Murdered! She was murdered!”

“Dude.”

“I can’t believe it, who would do this! I just can’t-”

“Dude, Darren!” Dipper put his hands on the guy’s shoulders. “Keep your voice down. I thought you came to me because you didn’t want the RA to hear!”

Lucy Ann chuckled a bit as Darren shut his mouth. She watched Dipper walk back to the bird cage under the dorm room bed. There was a little pile of ash under the perch; opening the cage, he pinched some between his fingers.

“Look,” Dipper said. “Nobody killed your phoenix, okay? This isn’t phoenix ash.”

“Wha- what?”

“Phoenix ash is highly magical.” He brought out a little necklace tucked under his shirt; there was a dull blue glass pendant on the end of it, and nothing happened when he brought the ash to it. “See? My necklace lights up when it’s repelling magic, and it’s getting nothing here. It’s just regular ash.”

Darren sniffed and wiped his nose. “So… so Flamey’s alive?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, man, she’s alive.” He paused, meaningfully. “But… someone wanted you to think she was dead.”

Darren gasped. Lucy Ann watched with a grin as Dipper got to his feet, dusting off his hands.

“My guess is it’s some kind of prank, but it could be that someone stole your phoenix for themselves. Who else knows about Flamey?”

“I-I don’t… no one, I think!” He wrung his shirt. “I mean my dorm mate does, but he wouldn’t steal her – Alex hates living with her!”

“Hates living with her, eh?” Lucy Ann raised her eyebrows at Dipper. “Maybe it’s not been stolen to keep.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Dipper nodded to himself. Darren leaned in further.

“You think… you think Alex murdered Flamey?”

“No, I told you, no one murdered-” There was a knock at the door just then, and Dipper looked up. “Hello?”

“Uh, hello?” Said the voice. “This is my room, who’s in here?”

“That’s Alex,” Darren murmured, and then he called out: “Just some friends of mine!”

The door opened slowly, and Alex popped his head in, frowning. “Uh, okay. Hey, Darren, how long are they gonna be here? I’ve gotta study.”

“Oh, we’re just wrapping up,” Dipper said, letting what he probably thought was a very sly smile snake across his face. “But, uh… Alex, was it? I just got one question for you.”

“Uh, sure?”

“You got a lighter?”

Alex frowned. “A lighter? No.”

“Oh, okay.” Dipper glanced across the room. “That’s weird, then. You got a scented candle on your desk.”

Darren groaned. “I hate that candle, man, it smells like old people. And isn’t it, like, a fire hazard?”

“Fire hazard?” Alex crossed his arms. “Seriously, man? You’re going on about a fire hazard?”

“You don’t like that he keeps a phoenix under his bed, do you?”

Alex blinked, and then scowled at Dipper. “Yeah, duh, would you?”

“So you stole it.”

“So- wait, what? I didn’t – hey, who is this guy, Darren?”

“You stole Flamey?” Darren stared slackjawed at him. “You did, didn’t you!”

“And then you burned some paper and planted it in her cage so he’d think she was dead.” Dipper crossed his arms. “Pets aren’t allowed in the dorms, so you thought Darren wouldn’t report it to anybody. It was the perfect crime!”

“I… I…” Alex blinked a few times, then huffed and threw up his hands. “Okay, fine! I gave her to my aunt!”

“Alex!”

“And I’d do it again! You know what the real crime is? Keeping a flaming fucking bird in a tiny cage under your bed! I was doing you and her a favour!”

“I can’t believe you! You get her back, okay! You get her back or, or… or I’ll tell the RA about the candles!”

“Oh-hoh, okay, you tell them about the candles and I’ll tell them about the giant bird you had under your bed! We’ll see what they’re more interested in!”

“Flamey!”

Dipper and Lucy Ann strolled out of the dorm room together. Lucy Ann took one look at his smug face and poked him in the ribs.

“Wha- hey! What was that for?”

“If your head gets any bigger it’s not gonna fit in the doorway.” She smirked at him. “I guess you did okay, though. Quick thinking on the ash.”

“Yeah, heh…” He rubbed his side. “That was not what I expected when Darren came over. Still, that was pretty good, wasn’t it? It was like being a detective!”

“You’re a real Sherlock Holmes.”

With a laugh, Dipper unlocked his dorm, held it open for her, and followed her in. It was a tiny space, but at least it was a one-bedroom; a bunk bed slotted against one wall, and a desk was crammed against the other, leaving only a narrow walkway from the door to a tiny square of window. Dipper’s desk was covered in books and notes; his magi-orb was open but asleep, and he made his way over to wake it up.

On the way, he got a little tangled with the sleeping bag on the floor – more accurately, this used to be a one-bedroom. Lucy Ann snorted.

“Hey, you’re stepping on my pillows!”

“Oops, sorry.” He watched her lounge out on the floor with a raised eyebrow. “You know, you sure you still want to stay here?”

“Yup.” She picked up a book beside her bed, and glanced over at him. “What, you tired of me?”

“No, no! I just – I mean, it’s been so cool to meet the real Lucy Ann, but I still don’t get why you’ve decided to hang around me.” He watched her face twist into a knowing grin, and rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna tell me why, are you.”

She just winked at that, and buried her head in her book. Shaking his head, he turned back to his magi-orb and tapped it a few times; it flared to life, and Dipper’s necklace gave off a soft blue glow as he started scrolling. A news article popped up, and he clicked on it.

“Huh.” He said to himself. “Hey, you remember that jewellery store robbery last week?”

“No.”

“It was that one super close to campus – we got alerts about it.”

She just shrugged, so he started reading off the article.

“Suspect in jewellery store stick up still at large after mysterious disappearance, magical influence suspected.” His eyes skipped further down. “Oh, nice, looks like the guy he shot got out of the hospital today.”

“Good for him.”

“Mysterious disappearance… they say he went into a back room away from the cameras and just disappeared. No windows in the room either, isn’t that weird?”

Finally, Lucy Ann glanced up from her book and gave him an odd look. “Yeah, I guess it’s weird. Why, you wanna rob a jewellery store or something? It’s not as fun as it sounds.”

“No, I’m just… how did he disappear like that?” He sat back in his chair, stroking his chin. “I mean, locked room, no windows-”

Lucy Ann let out the biggest groan. “Oh, no. You call a guy Sherlock once and he becomes insufferable – if you start reading every random crime report to me I really will leave, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up. “Sheesh. I just thought it was a cool mystery. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“I’m not biting your head off, I’m just saying that’s cop shit.” She flashed a fanged grin at him. “Come on, your life’s too short to care who makes off with some pretty rocks or whatever. The world’s full of way more interesting mysteries than that.”

“Hm.” He sat there for a second, and then reached out and closed the news article. “I guess you’re right.”

She watched him sit back, and sat up. “Hey, you wanna do something tonight?”

“Huh?”

“You know, go out somewhere. I saw this thing the other day for an escape room – you ever done one of those?”

“I haven’t. That sounds cool, but…”

“You gotta study?”

“Ahh,” he checked his phone. “Actually, Mom texted, asked if I could drop some groceries off at home tonight. I’ll probably stay for dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” Lucy Ann sat back and picked up her book again. “Sounds good.”

______________________________________________________________

Quicksilver Funeral Home & Crematory was on the southernmost tip of the New Fresno Peninsula, about a fifty minute’s drive from Dipper’s university. It was, politely, in the middle of nowhere; Dipper always smiled when he remembered the long, lazy days he spent in the forests behind his house… just as much as he’d remember the long drive to school, the friends he could never casually invite over. As remote as it was, though, his dad always liked to remind him that at least they were on the mainland.

“Oh, we’re hardly in the middle of nowhere, son. If you wanna see the middle of nowhere, take a skylift out to one of those floating islands down south. Poor saps are so remote their dead get brought to us in helicopters!”

It was, if not a convincing argument, a very illustrative one. Dipper thought of his dad’s voice as he pulled up the driveway, and a little grimace tugged his lips down. He turned off his car, glanced at the groceries on the seat next to him, and sighed.

Then he sat up, opened the door, and got out. Picking up the groceries, he made his way to the side entrance and rang the doorbell. There was a muffled, “I got it,” and footsteps up to the door.

It unlatched, swung open, and revealed his sister in the doorway. Mallory nodded at him.

“Hey,” she said, and stepped aside to let him in. He smiled at her.

“Hey, Mal. Got the groceries!”

“I see that. Need a hand?”

“No, I got it, thanks.” He headed down the hallway into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom! That smells great!”

“Dipper!” His Mom looked up from a pot of bubbling soup; her face creased into a smile, and she gave him a big hug. “It’s so great to see you, honey!”

“It’s great to see you too – oh, watch out, eggs!” He put the bags on the counter before hugging back. “How’ve you been? Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in the living room with Mallory – I can put all this away if you wanna see him!”

“You sure?”

“Of course! He’ll be delighted to see you!”

The living room was just around the corner; Dipper hesitated for a second before walking in.

“Hey, Dad.”

His Dad was sitting back in his favourite green armchair, and for a second Dipper could just pretend he’d fallen asleep in it as he loved to do, and him and Mallory were two giggling kids about to balance as many toys as they could on his body until he finally woke up, made a show of stretching and going, “Whoa, what’s all this!” as they both shrieked with laughter. He could see it so clearly… but then there was the bed behind him, hastily dragged down the stairs into the living room, and the hospital wheelchair at the foot of it. His Dad’s eyes were closed, but they were struggling to open; his head fell to the side, and he gave a lopsided smile, a weak wave. Dipper waved back, and then he moved in closer to give him a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He said, squeezing carefully, and then standing up. Mallory put a hand on his shoulder; he glanced at her. “How’s he… I-I mean, how’re you doing, Dad?”

There was a pause, and then his hand flopped very deliberately to the side, as if to say, “How do you think?” His eyebrow quirked up too, and Dipper gave a little laugh.

“Yeah, hah, makes, makes sense.”

“We’ve been doing some exercises,” Mallory said; she turned on the TV, picked up a foam ball, and gently opened their Dad’s hand to place it in. “Do you know there’s one where you’re supposed to crumple up a sheet of paper? That’s been my favourite.”

“Hah, really?” He looked towards the bin, which was overflowing with tightly-crumpled balls of notepaper. “Hey, he’s doing really well on that one!”

Mallory didn’t respond; she shrugged obliquely, and then crushed a sheet of paper between her hands. His smile turned awkward.

“Oh, uh…” He rubbed his neck. “So! What are we watching?”

Dinner was ready soon. Dipper helped his Dad into the wheelchair, and Mallory guided him into the dining room. Their Mom had set out plates; they all took a seat, Mallory next to her Dad. Dipper watched him pick up a spoon with a shaking hand and dip it into the soup.

“So how’re classes going, honey?”

“Huh?” Dipper blinked, and looked to his Mom. “Oh! Um, they’re going good… yeah, good.”

“That’s good.” She smiled. “Midterms are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!”

“Ooh, how’re you feeling about that?”

“Pretty, pretty prepared, I think!” He grinned. “And then it’ll be winter break soon! I can come back home for Christmas.”

“That’ll be great, honey! We’ve missed having you around. And you know, we could use a little help around the-”

“I’m doing the best I can.”

Mallory’s voice cut her right off. She saw them both stare at her, and narrowed her eyes.

“What? I just said I’m doing the best I can.” She glared at their Mom. “You’re talking like I’m not doing anything around here, I just wanted to say I am doing stuff, okay?”

“I didn’t say that, honey, we really appreciate-”

“I know, I’m just saying-”

“-could help take some things off your plate-”

“I was just saying-!” Mallory stopped and put up her hands. “You know what, forget I said anything.”

“Honey-”

“I said forget it, Mom.”

“But-”

“Forget it, okay? I don’t want to do this again.”

The room froze into a tense silence. Dipper glanced nervously between the two of them, and took a long drink of water. There was a grunting sound from across the table; their Dad was pointing at something.

“Dad?” Dipper blinked. “What do you-”

“He wants the salt.” Mallory rubbed her forehead. “Dad, I told you, you’re not supposed to have too much-”

“Oh, just give him the salt, dear.”

Mallory froze. She looked up at their Mom, grabbed the salt, and slammed it down on the table next to their Dad before getting up and walking away. A door shut hard down the hallway; their Mom gave Dipper a tight smile.

“Sorry, honey.” She said. “She’s not… she’s finding this all a bit hard to adjust to. But she’s really happy to see you!”

“Yeah…” Dipper looked down at the soup. He half stood up; then looked at her. “Can I…?”

“Oh, of course! She’s probably in the crematorium.”

Dipper nodded, and followed after her. There was a door by the stairs that opened into the main foyer of the funeral home; he passed by the front desk, by an empty viewing room filled with chairs, up to a door tucked away in the back with a very clear ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign. Through there was the crematorium: its concrete floors, stainless steel gurneys, and safety tape stood in stark, clinical contrast to the rest of the building, but Dipper had long since gotten used to this place. The shining metal cremation machine dominated the middle of the space, and though it wasn’t on, there was a whirring sound behind it. Dipper walked past a row of body freezers set into the wall to find Mallory.

“Uh, hey,” he said. She was standing arms crossed in front of a little glass kiln, and didn’t look up at his voice. He hung back, a nervous smile on his face. “Mal? Are you okay?”

Mallory raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Doing great.”

“Mal-”

“You want a plate?” She sifted through a little pile of things next to the kiln. “I was saving this for you – here.”

She held out a small, multicoloured glass plate. Dipper blinked as he took it from her; he held it up to the light, and marvelled at the colours splashing on the side of his hand. “Wow, this is really pretty! Is this enchanted too?”

The slight smile on Mallory’s face vanished. “No, it’s just a plate. Why would I enchant a plate?”

“Oh, I just-”

“Your necklace was a lot of work, you know. I don’t do that for every single thing I make! Sometimes I just want to make a fucking plate, okay?”

“Okay, sorry!” He watched her turn away. “Mal, I’m sorry! I didn’t- it’s really good, thank you!”

“Oh, I don’t know, you sure you don’t want me to melt it down and put an enchantment on it first?”

“No, no…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Mal, that was really dumb of me. I really like the plate, okay? Thank you for giving it to me.”

“Hm.” She stayed like that for a second, then looked back and grinned at him. “You’re welcome, dummy. I’m glad you like it.”

He grinned back. “I do, it’s really beautiful! How’d you get all the colours like that? I’ve never seen something like this from you.”

“Huh, that? Oh, I started buying this coloured glass scrap.” She opened a drawer; in it was a box full of big and small shards of coloured glass. “You can get it in bulk for super cheap – nobody gave me a scholarship for this, so I make do.”

Another sharp remark – Dipper cringed again. “Mal?” He asked, and she started picking through the shards. “Are you… is everything okay?”

“No, obviously, everything’s not okay.” She took a look at his expression and rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s not- I’ll survive. It’s fine.”

“Mal…”

“It’s hard on us all right now, okay?” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that with Mom over dinner. She’s just been – just been getting on my nerves lately, you know?” She picked up a blue shard, and looked through it. “Just on and on about how I’m so good with the families, I should totally take over!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Oh, god, yeah.”

“She even found a mortuary sciences course at my college, just tried to ‘casually’ bring it up to me the other day.” A chuckle. “You know how she acts when she thinks she’s being subtle.”

“Heh, yeah… how’s your classes going?”

“I withdrew this semester.”

“Oh… Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” He watched her pause, staring into the middle distance. He stepped a little closer. “You know, Mom and Dad always said they only wanted us to take over if we wanted to. I don’t think she’d want you to feel obligated.”

“Yeah, but I am obligated, aren’t I?” She glared at him. “What are they gonna do now if I leave? Mom can't run this whole place on her own.”

“They always said they’d hire-”

“Hire someone else, yeah, like they can afford that right now.” Rolling her eyes, she pushed off the counter and started pacing. “And they can’t sell the place either – where’s Mom gonna find another job? No, unless Dad gets better fast, I’m stuck here.”

“You’re not-” Dipper struggled for words. “You don’t have to… it’s not your responsibility. They wouldn’t want you to feel like this.”

“Oh, okay then.” She stopped, and looked straight at him. “So how about I leave, and you come back home to take care of Dad. How’s that sound?”

Dipper blinked. “I…” he started, and frowned as she flashed a grin. “Hey, come on, Mal, that’s not… You’re not being fair.”

She scoffed at that, and crossed her arms.

“Mal-”

“I’m not actually asking you to do that – obviously. But it’s you or me, okay? And if it’s gonna be me, can you stop acting like I could just walk away from them?”

Dipper hesitated, and then he sighed. “You’re… you’re right. I’m sorry. That sounds really hard.”

“Thank you,” she rubbed her eyes. “Look, how about you just go back to dinner?”

“What? What about you?”

“I’ll be out in a bit, I just…” She looked back at the shards she’d taken out, picked one up, and tossed it back into the drawer. “I just need to cool off.”

“Wh… you sure? I can stay here if you-”

“It’s fine.” Glancing back at him, she managed a smile. “It’s fine, okay? I’ll be out soon.”

Dipper lingered for a second longer, and then, with a sigh, he turned and made for the door. One last glance over the shoulder showed how he left her: a small figure hunched over a desk, disappearing behind the machinery.

He opened the door, and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

“You’re back late,” Lucy Ann said as he made his way into his dorm the next morning. “I thought you were only staying for dinner?”

“Yeah… I was just, I was trying to be helpful.” He closed the door, and leaned against it for a second. “It’s just… it’s like… do you think I’m…?”

Lucy Ann watched him for a moment, her eyebrow slowly arching. “Do I think you’re what?”

“It’s… nevermind.” With a sigh, he went to his desk and tapped his magi-orb. “I’m only here to pick up some stuff for class. Are you coming?”

“Depends, what you got on?”

“Uh… public speaking’s first – shoot, my presentation’s today!”

With a cackle she hopped to her feet. “Oh, I’m definitely coming for that one!”

Dipper shook his head at her, but before he could reply, there came a knock at the door. Lucy Ann groaned.

“Shit, is that the RA?”

“I’ll see… uh, hello? Who is it?”

“Dude, it’s Darren!”

“Oh, thank the stars.” She dropped her sleeping bag. “I didn’t want to have to hide again.”

Dipper frowned as he opened the door. “Darren? What’s up?”

“Hey, dude!” Darren looked a little out of breath, but he perked up at the sight of him. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the other day – thanks for finding Flamey for me! Alex drove me over and-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” Dipper started to close the door. “Look, I gotta get to class-”

“Oh, wait! That wasn’t what I came over for!”

“Huh?”

“I was telling my buddy Marsh about how you found her the other day – and you know, Alex’s aunt, she actually has a whole aviary, it’s amazing! She has so much room to fly around-”

“Darren…”

“Right, right! So I was telling Marsh about how crazy it was when you put all the clues together, and he was saying he could use your help!”

Lucy Ann snorted. “Congrats, on the new job, Dipper. Campus animal control.”

“I don’t-” Dipper looked from her to Darren. “I don’t know, man. What’s the problem?”

“It was something about a weird ghost in his apartment… I-I don’t remember exactly, but I said I’d give you his number and he could tell you about it!”

“A ghost?” Dipper blinked. He opened the door a little wider. “Huh… Uh, yeah, what’s his number? I gotta go… like right now, but I can call him after class! What was his name, Marsh?”

Behind them, Lucy Ann shook her head. She wanted to know what he was like without demon powers?

It turns out he wasn’t so different – he could still be such a dork.

[animusrox]

LETTERBOXD

1.   The Batman 2.   Everything Everywhere All at Once 3.   Prey 4.   Triangle of Sadness 5.   Barbarian 6.  The Northman 7.   Bodies Bodies Bodies 8.   The Banshees of Inisherin 9.   Bones and All 10.   Avatar: The Way of Water

Grade A

11.   Turning Red 12.   The Menu 13.   Babylon 14.   Hit the Road 15.   Cow 16.   Watcher 17.   Funny Pages 18.   Mad God 19.   On the Count of Three 20.   Armageddon Time 21.   Terrifier 2 22.   Marcel the Shell with Shoes On 23.   Smile 24.   Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery 25.   Holy Spider 26.   Aftersun 27.   The Fabelmans 28.   Breaking 29.   Decision to Leave 30.   The Whale 31.   All Quiet on the Western Front 32.   Brian and Charles 33.   Piggy 34.   Saint Omer 35.   Thirteen Lives 36.   Men 37.   The Fallout 38.   Resurrection 39.   Causeway 40.  The Black Phone 41.   Official Competition 42.   Nope 43.  Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio 44.   Apollo 10½: A Space Age Childhood 45.   Till 46.   TÁR 47.   Happening 48.   A Love Song 49.   The Outfit 50.   The Innocents 51.   Jackass Forever 52.   BARDO, False Chronicle of a Handful of Truths 53.   Montana Story 54.   Three Thousand Years of Longing 55.   You Won’t Be Alone 56.   The Sadness 57.   Halloween Ends 58.   Pearl 59.   X 60.   Vesper

Click "Keep Reading” For My Full List

Grade B

61.   This Place Rules 62.   Fresh 63.   Windfall 64.   Kimi 65.   No Exit 66.   Top Gun: Maverick 67.   “Sr.” 68.   Farha 69.   The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent 70.   Weird: The Al Yankovic Story 71.   Nitram 72.   Speak No Evil 73.   Run Sweetheart Run 74.   She Said 75.   White Noise 76.   Puss in Boots: The Last Wish 77.   V/H/S/99 78.   The Wonder 79.   Women Talking 80.   Hatching 81.   Soft & Quiet 82.   Scream 83.   To Leslie 84.   Hustle 85.   Chip ’n Dale: Rescue Rangers 86.   Dual 87.   God’s Country 88.   Emancipation 89.   Vengeance 90.   Fire of Love 91.   Bullet Train 92.   Incantation 93.   The Valet 94.   Hellraiser 95.   Christmas Bloody Christmas 96.   Significant Other 97.   Cha Cha Real Smooth 98.   Lucy and Desi 99.   Not Okay 100.   A Christmas Story Christmas 101.   Blonde 102.   Deadstream 103.   Sissy

Grade C

104.   The Bad Guys 105.   The Cursed 106.   Empire of Light 107.   A Man Called Otto 108.   Broker 109.   Black Panther: Wakanda Forever 110.   The Princess 111.   Beast 112.   After Yang 113.   RRR 114.   Fall 115.   Jackass 4.5 116.   Beavis and Butt-Head Do the Universe 117.   Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness 118.   Jennifer Lopez: Halftime 119.   Lightyear 120.   The Pale Blue Eye 121.   The Woman King 122.   Violent Night 123.   God’s Creatures 124.   Ambulance 125.   Elvis 126.   You Are Not My Mother 127.   Emily the Criminal 128.   Crimes of the Future 129.   The Apology 130.   The Lost City 131.   Wendell & Wild 132.   Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99 133.   The Found Footage Phenomenon 134.   See How They Run 135.   Spiderhead 136.   Studio 666 137.   Bros 138.   Spin Me Round 139.   We’re All Going to the World’s Fair 140.   Paws of Fury: The Legend of Hank 141.   Honor Society

Grade D

142.   Thor: Love and Thunder 143.   Summering 144.   Strange World 145.   Glorious 146.   The Gray Man 147.   Devotion 148.   Clerks III 149.   The Forgiven 150.   Enola Holmes 2 151.   Father Stu 152.   Jurassic World Dominion 153.   DC League of Super-Pets 154.   She Will 155.   The Bob’s Burgers Movie 156.   Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance with Somebody 157.   Hellbender 158.   Samaritan 159.   Day Shift 160.   Sonic the Hedgehog 2 161.   Prey for the Devil 162.   Troll 163.   Uncharted 164.  Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile 165.   Dashcam 166.   Firestarter 167.   Do Revenge 168.   Catwoman: Hunted 169.   The Munsters 170.   Amsterdam 171.   Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore

Grade F

172.   Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris 173.   The Bubble 174.   Dead for a Dollar 175.   Jerry & Marge Go Large 176.   Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul. 177.   Infinite Storm 178.   Marry Me 179.   Don’t Worry Darling 180.   Spirited 181.   Disney's Pinocchio 182.   Alice 183.   Black Adam 184.   Orphan: First Kill 185.   The Adam Project 186.   The Invitation 187.   Texas Chainsaw Massacre 188.   Ticket to Paradise 189.   The 355 190.   Umma

Bottom 10

191.   Green Lantern: Beware My Power 192.   Deep Water 193.   Where the Crawdads Sing 194.   Blacklight 195.   Mack & Rita 196.   Memory 197.   Me Time 198.   Death on the Nile 199.   Morbius 200.   Moonfall

[jezebelgoldstone]

I am genuinely SO CURIOUS about this

[wabatle]

Heya heya! Anon who's the one who recently requested "Niigo finding out they aren't your first kiss" here, making another req because your writing is so auaehahueauwqageauwuwua278751!!73%#^@%3(I mean this in a positive way wahaha) And I'll be requesting for... Niigo again- So here; The reader just basically does a sudden "kabedon" to the specific Niigo member, like that specific char could just be walking into the reader's room and then WHAM suddenly pinned them on the wall and saying some flirty stuff(treat me like white tee rizz) Then after for a few seconds the reader just backs away and goes "So! How was your day?<3" as if nothing happened Also, maybe you should start expecting a mentally ill anon(me) that greets in "Heya heya" and would often request for Niigo members.... Idk if that should be considered a bad thing or a good thing... I just love your writing so much ragahgagha

☆~N25 when their s/o pins them against the wall

(wa)batle nonsense:

You gave me the idea and I guess this is a good time to say I'm gonna make anon slots so all of y'all anons can start signing your asks with whatever name you choose

warnings: yk, pinning someone against the wall, but other than that, none

☆~Kanade Yoisaki

“Please, come in.” Kanade greeted, opening the door for you.

“Thank you.” You replied, letting her shut the door behind you.

“Now, I wanted to ask—” She was cut off by seeing your hand slam against the wall slightly above her head.

“You're so cute, K.” You told her, kissing her forehead. “I hope you know, Kanade, your eyes are beyond beautiful.”

Kanade’s face turned bright red and she avoided eye contact.

You kissed her forehead again. “Hmm…” You muttered.

Then, you let go and she breathed a loud sigh of relief, putting her hand on her chest.

“So, how's your day been?” You said sweetly, ignoring the fact you just pinned her against the wall.

She smiled softly. “It's better now that you're here.” She kissed your cheek.

☆~Mafuyu Asahina

“Thank you for inviting me over, (name).” Mafuyu said as you welcomed her into your house.

“No, thank you for coming!” You replied, gently patting her back.

She nodded, and walked into your room. Then, she next found her wrists pinned against the wall, and you being the culprit of who’s pinning them.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

You moved your face closer to hers. “You’re so beautiful. I must be dreaming.”

Her face slightly flushed.

“You really are stunning, Yuki.” You whispered in her ear, before letting go of her and flopping onto your bed.

“What was that…?” She whispered to herself.

You patted the spot on the bed next to you. “Come sit! Tell me about your day!” You said with enthusiasm.

My heart is pounding… She thought as she sat down next to you.

☆~Ena Shinonome

“You finally made it!” Ena greeted you happily as she opened the door for you.

“Yep, I’m here!~” You said, setting a bag down on the table.

“What’s in the bag?” She asked.

“Oh, I grabbed some pancakes while I was on my way!” You said, as Ena ran and jumped into your arms.

“Really? Thanks, babe! I love you so so much!” Ena exclaimed.

Then, you slapped your hand on the wall over her head.

“Wh-whoa! Uh, (name)..? What are you doing?”

“Ena… Your hair is really pretty, and your face is cute. Not to mention your lips. I would love to kiss them.”

At this point, her face is bright red and she’s too flustered to even talk.

“Uh… U-uh…” She mumbles. 

You flipped up her bangs and kissed her forehead.

“I love you, Ena.” You let go of the wall and walked over to the table the bag of pancakes was sitting on. “Now come on, let’s dig in!”

Ena walked over to you, her face still red. “Come on, we’re just gonna forget about what just happened?!”

Rrr… (Name) can be such an idiot sometimes… Ena thought. But, I think I might’ve just fallen in love with them more…

☆~Mizuki Akiyama

“Hey (name)!” Mizuki said as you let them into your house.

“Hey! You can head straight to my room, I’ll be right behind you.” You smiled, and they started walking towards your room. As soon as they turned around, they felt your hands squeeze their wrists against the wall.

“Uh, babe? What’re you doing?” They asked, their face turning slightly red.

“Y’know, Mizuki…” You moved your face closer to theirs, causing their blush to deepen. “You’re really cute. Your face, your clothes… everything about you is cute.” You let go of them and sat down on your bed.

Mizuki fidgeted with their fingers, and then sat down next to you.

“Um… I really love you, (name).” They said. “Did you really mean what you said? About me being cute?”

“Of course I did!” You smiled brightly. “You’re the cutest person I know!”

“Darn right! I’m the most adorable thing the world has ever seen!” They said back happily.

That scared me… But I really love my partner, hehe. Mizuki thought to themself as they leaned onto your shoulder.

[eri-pl]

Tengwar <3

It's the best thing Feanor made. Seriously. Nobody will murder you for using Tengwar. Nobody will hack your brain when you use Tengwar in the wrong moment. (The lamps are ok, but kinda meh, Tengwar is better)

Did you know, just did you know, that every consonant has a name, and the name is a noun, and some are really cool (and foreshadowing)? (chart and translations below the cut)

So, if you want a chart, here is a chart. And the names are (I don't have diacritics, so I just double the long vowels) (Quenya mode, with some historical notes from LotR appendix and elvish.org):

"Normal stuff Feanor had on his desk" row:

T tinco - metal

P parma - book

K calma - lamp (like those Feanor made? Or... like those Aule made)

Q quesse - feather (birds are important!)

"Things that keep you trapped" row:

ND ando - gate (like... the Door of Night?)

MB umbar - doom (doesn't need a comment...)

NG anga - iron (also, used in sword names, even for non-iron swords)

NGW (in TA changed to NW) ungwe - spider's web (foreshadowingsight on Feanor's part? :) )

"Mountain things???" row

S suule - spirit or breath (Manwe Sulimo... king of winds and stuff...) | TH thuule - spirit or breath, but I'm a Feanorian, or at least I'm a linguistics geek and love the phonetic scheme (me! but otoh it sounds dumb :( ), or I love the Teleri and/or Sindar, who use it as th (Finarfin, iirc).

F formen - north

H (h before t) harma (voiceless velar fricative phonetically /x/... I think. the sources are confusing. In TA mostly softened into a breath h.) - treasure (my precious Silmarills...) | aha (later renamed, idk when) - rage (my Silmarils! and, even more importantly, my father!)

HW (like "wh" in "why" especially the fancy British way of saying it where it's actyally h-w, not w-h) hwesta - breeze

"We need to name a row after places of articulation" row

NT anto - mouth (couldn't you think of a better name? I get it's a place-of-articulation row, but i don't like it anyway)

MP ampa - hook

NC anca - jaw

NQ unque - hole

"Things that Melkor likes" row:

N nuumen - west (Numenor...)

M malta - gold

NG (by TA: N) noldo - Noldo, as in type of Elf. Yes, it was initially Ngoldo. I mean, initially initially it was a gnome, so...

NW nwalme - tornment

"I have no idea but vaguely positive-metaphysical?..." row

R (pre-consonant or end-of-the-word R | non-vibrating r, whatever this means. My bet is that it's "r" as in Japanese --- position like "r", movement like "d") oore - heart (or: rising. Guess whose name includes this component. funny that it's the same word as heart, especially given that heart is also defined as conscience here)

V vala - power (duh.)

Y (? it has some history) [there was a consonant here]anna - gift (totally not made into a sus word by now...)

W/V (Initially W, by TA changed to V) wilya - air / lower sky (funny how those two names are next to one another. )

"Really, I think Feanor ran out of ideas for coherent name sets" row

R (vibrating, typpical "rrr") romen - east (the same sound being written with "East" and with a word alternatively translating to "heart" or part of Melkor's name --- I love it! Why? See my recent post. I love that. Call it a coincidence, but I love it)

RD arda - realm

L lambe - speech

LD alda - tree (!)

Now we are not in regular rows, so, the extra letters:

S silme - starlight (or... metaphysically important light in general? because guess what word is connected to this one. Also, funny how it's just after "tree"). It's always S, never TH.

(nuquerma is just "flipped" or something I guess)

Z aaze - day / sunlight (in Noldorin changed to Z - aare) | SS esse (Numenor and later, because they did not use the "z" sound, I think) - name

HY (Numenor and later: H) hywarmen - south

I yanta - bridge

U uure - heat

(doesn't have a sound, in Sindarin it's A) osse - terror (I guess he isn't a very nice Maia?)

H (voiceless h: /h/ not /x/; in TA replaced by harmen) halla - tall | gasdil - stop

(short wovel carrier) telco - stem

(long carrier) aara - dawn

The Tengwa names after directions are also used as marks in the compass (like we use NSWE) And snarky comments aside, I love the schema and how the names connect into many interesting and often Silm-events-related patterns. I love how each (almost) row is named after a set of similar things.

I'm not an expert, and if I made some mistakes, I'll be grateful for corrections.

[milla984]

Just another rainy day

Summary: Reader comes home after a few days away on a work trip and smut ensues. Sort of.

Pairing: modern AU Bheem x fem!reader (but Bheem still has a nose ring)

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, unprotected penetrative sex, mentions of food

Word Count: 2.8k

You close the front door of the apartment as the noise of the downpour fills the silence with the repetitive tapping of raindrops bouncing off the rooftop. You take off your shoes and socks to leave them at the entrance, besides Bheem’s boots, then you let your bag flop on the floor and toss the keys into the glass bowl at the entrance, producing a loud clink - which should be his cue to stop doing whatever he’s doing to give you a proper welcome back. There’s no answer, though, except for a muffled sound of water splashing in the shower and a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen. 

You hang your coat and scuttle like a mouse across the room to take a peek inside the pot cooling on the stove, lifting the lid to confirm Bheem prepared one of your favorite dishes for dinner. Food is part of his love language, and even if it’s not five-star restaurant quality the simple fact he made it is enough for you to declare all the other biryanis don’t hold a candle to his version.

It takes a moment for you to notice the crumpled mass of fabric lying on the armrest of the couch, in the living room; upon a closer look you realize it’s the nehru jacket you bought him as a birthday present, and a few feet away there’s also one of his shirts. The trail of clothes he left behind points to the hallway and you patiently pick each item up, so you could put them into the hamper. You know he doesn’t expect you to be his maid, since he’s capable of doing his share of household chores, he’s just… Bheem, getting so excited over the little things in life (such as stripping off to have a well-deserved shower at the end of a long day) that you can’t really get mad at him. 

Once you’re done with the laundry basket you walk towards the bathroom and you raise a hand to push the door fully open - that’s when he turns off the faucet, causing you to gawk, speechless: he may be as innocent and impetuous as a child, on occasion, yet you can’t help but stare at the grown man who’s in front of you.

All of him, since his imposing physique takes up half the space in the cabin.

Thanks to the semi-transparent panels you can see he’s tilting his head back to shake the excess water out of his hair and let it roll on his shoulders, down along his spine to his rock-solid ass and thighs. You lick your chops at the thought of the veins climbing up his knee, towards his hip; he could probably choke you with those legs and the fire burning in your core indicates you find the idea inviting. He’s a sweetheart by nature, nevertheless experience taught you his inherent impetuosity leads to interesting results during your most intimate one-on-one sessions.

You jump out of your trousers and toss them behind you, and with only your kurti on you rush to the kitchen to spoon some virgin coconut oil out of the jar and put it in a small bowl. When you go back he’s standing in front of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist and his muscular calves exposed. 

“Bujji…?” you call him in a soft tone.

“Ammu!!!” he roars, his eyes shining brighter than the stars in the sky. He’s so strong he lifts you up while he greets you. “Are you tired?” he adds, enthusiastically, and doesn’t really give you a chance to reply because he can’t contain the excitement of holding you in his arms. “Hungry?! How was—”

“Kiss me and I’ll tell you all about it,” you cut him off, in the hope that he won’t be tempted to ask more questions. Right now you’re in desperate need of his nose ring pressed against your upper lip, and he obliges.

Kissing Bheem feels like being blessed by a ray of sunshine, warming you up on a cold winter’s morning; his soul is pure as dew glistening on jasmine petals, his embrace is where you wish you could spend eternity.

“I am hungry,” you whisper, “and tired, but I’ve got duties to fulfill.”

He smiles again and nods, kissing you one last time before he sits on the covers; you kneel behind him, using your palms to warm up a moderate amount of coconut until it melts completely. You’ve been dreaming of this for days: you start with a gentle massage on the nape and move up to the crown to distribute the oil on the scalp, then switch to a firmer pressure to play with large chunks of his hair to help him relax.

Calling it ‘a duty’ is a private joke, as far as possible from an old-style, strict interpretation of gender roles within a couple. In fact, you’d never pass up a chance to put your hands all over him and worship every inch of his naked body and it’s definitely a display of desire he’s very fond of.

When you bring your attention to his outer ears, rolling the flexible helices between your thumb and index finger, his head falls backwards and his curls tickle your cheek. You peck him gently on the temple and scoop a larger quantity of coconut oil out of the bowl, repeating the warming process; his hands sneakily reach the hem of your kurti to try and lift it - to no avail, since the back portion of the garment is trapped under your weight.

“Do you want me to stop?” you purr, and his laugh makes something stir in your belly.

No, he doesn’t want you to stop - what comes next is his favorite part.

You start working his shoulders and the pads of your fingers glide on his skin, dampened with the tiny droplets glistening in the dark fuzz he’s never bothered to get rid of; he groans in pleasure and you too enjoy the sensation of his firm muscles being manipulated, the light friction making them even warmer to the touch. They’re so defined you could use his entire back as a living anatomy chart, so you torture your lips in a feeble attempt to suppress the temptation to cover him in bitemarks. After reaching his waist you usually go for a knuckling technique along both sides of his spine in an upward direction, but tonight you have other plans.

Bheem lets out a surprised, short gasp as you tug at one border of the towel around his hips to peel it open. You put your palms flat on his thighs and you slowly stroke back and forth, your chest pressed against his body and the tip of your tongue following a linear path from the base of his neck to the sensitive spot behind his ear. The scent of coconut on his olive complexion drives you insane and you dig your fingers into his flesh; he winces in discomfort, so you release him and use the bed of your nails to graze over the veins you’d be able to find even with your eyes closed. 

He grows impatient soon and grabs your right wrist, dragging it towards his groin; when you’re so close you can perceive his heat you trap his earlobe between your teeth and he whimpers, like a puppy who’s gotten his tail bitten by one of his siblings. You ghost the back of your hands against his ribcage, your chin resting on the crevice created by his collarbone. You look down and the mere sight of his hardening cock hits you so good that the pounding between your legs turns into a wet patch.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. 

He raises his arm to caress your head and the tattoo on his bicep contracts, sending jolts of pure lust to your brain. “Four days, chinna!”

“Too long,” you declare, resolute, “I want you. I need you...”

In a flash you’re sprawled on the covers, Bheem’s big hands nearly tearing the kurti off of you; he’s propping up on one knee, towering over you to pin your forearms down and rub himself over your panties. You bite your lips again: he’s allowed to do some teasing in return, and you know he likes the idea that spending less than a week apart turned you into a writhing mess, hungry for him. 

His breathing quickly becomes ragged from the fast-paced, rocking motion but the spark in his eyes is absolutely feral. It doesn’t take long before the tension mounting in your lower stomach screams for release, overwhelmed by the bobbing and pressing of his tip on the same, soaked spot. You’re a single step away from begging him to put you out of your misery when he pulls your underwear down. And almost at the same time, the whole room plunges into darkness. 

You both react with different degrees of annoyance - Bheem’s annyoed and somewhat resigned grumble covered by your vocal “No, damn it! Not now!!”

“Welcome home,” he sighs and he plops on his side to avoid crushing you by mistake.

You bang your head on the mattress and whine, as a demonstration the pet name he uses for you sometimes fits perfectly. “I hate when this happens! Hate it!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Bheem grunts. He stands up and in the blue-ish hue filtering through the windows he walks to the dresser, clearly searching for a pair of briefs in the dedicated drawer.

“Where are you going?” you ask him, perplexed.

He gives you a little frown from over his shoulder. “Uhm, someone should check the—”

“Breaker box?! Like you always do and nothing changes and the power comes back on its own?” you point out, since you have no intention of letting a stupid blackout disrupt your evening.

“It’s just…” he stammers, then he stops mid sentence with the drawer half-open in front of him. 

Finally he turns around, and you see for yourself why he’s got such a mortified expression on his face. The random honking of scooters driving into traffic, in the distance, seem to add a poignant effect to the moment, but you shrug and pat on the sheets.

“I really missed you. Please… stay?”

He rapidly considers the pros and cons of the two scenarios he’s facing and eventually he shrugs as well. Someone else would be in charge of checking the breaker box, for once, so you wait for him to lie at your side; you put your head on his chest, your heart contemplating the power he has over your life. 

There’s so much of him to cuddle that his presence alone makes you feel safe: the worst part about work trips for you is not the consciousness you won’t be returning to the comfort and protection of your apartment for the night - it’s being forced to spend that time alone, in a stranger place without his warmth and considerable weight close to you.

The rain trickles down on the glass and the reflection of the street lamps light paints stripes on his forehead and nose. His body resembles the image of a bear in your mind, so it’s no wonder you often call him that (even though it’s such a special endearment you never use it in public to respect the sacred privacy of your bedroom). Your hand wanders briefly on his sternum, twisting and twirling the fuzziness growing on his pecs; he’s very much used to you doing this whenever you chill out on the couch, watching a movie, and he’s well aware of how good his beard feels when he goes down on you. 

You hug him tighter and envelop his right thigh with yours: the feeling of his coarse hair over your sensitive clit is painfully exquisite, the friction from the grinding movement muffled by the slick texture of your arousal. You’re literally humping the tattoo matching the one on his left bicep and the back of your fingers start brushing over his nipple; Bheem shudders and tenses up, so you wait for another possible indication of uneasiness. He clenches his fist around the messy locks at the base of your neck to offer you his left nipple, instead, and your subtle oral fixation is more than glad to please him. 

You plant butterfly kisses to trace the outline of the areola, alternating between sucking the stiff, tiny bud and blowing warm air on it; you never rush through this stage of foreplay, and he’s a terrible enabler who’s learned to use your weakness to his full advantage. When your fingers leave his chest to trail down to his navel, cupping his reinvigorated erection, he gently yanks your head back to claim your mouth for himself. 

This is without doubt what you’ve been craving all along: your moans roll on his tongue like sweet mango juice, your hearts beat in unison as echoes of an otherworldly dimension of pure intimacy. He then shifts to his side, so that your bodies align perfectly in front of each other; his palm dances on your skin, his skilled fingers unclasping your bra to help you remove it. He’s done waiting and you nod, in a silent confirmation you share the same urgency.

Bheem slips his left forearm under your right knee, lifting your leg up against his chest. He’s got you pinned in an awkward position - your calf resting on his bicep and your forehead touching the bridge of his nose - but it’s the best way to have you ready for him, and you hold your breath as you feel his bulbous tip nudging at your entrance. He’s not fully in control of this new setting, so he hesitates; he slips out as a result and you squirm in pain for a fraction of a second, which prompts him to loosen his grip and kiss your shoulder to make sure you’re alright. 

You smile and let your free hand reach for your folds. This time he holds his breath and you gently guide his head on the right spot, waiting for him to push deeper: a loud moan escapes your throat when he finally does, drunk on the blissful feeling of having him inside of you and the knowledge you belong together. He tries swaying his hips in a rising movement, still figuring out the optimal dynamics, and your lips come closer.

“Bheema…” you mutter, clawing at his muscles.

He growls, a low rumble that reverberates in your ears, and the realization seems to dawn on him: he starts thrusting with his thigh and his pounding gets faster, more confident, a wild exercise in untamed passion. He’d let go of you in an instant if you asked him to, nevertheless you cherish your status as a captive of his powerful hold. Your grip on his skin turns into a primal instinct to further assert your possession rights over him once he sets a frantic pace.

The slapping noise distracts you before you can feel his fingertips kneading your butt cheek: he buries his face in your hair and his last, ferine growl sends him over the edge and he twitches multiple times inside of you while your own climax builds up in response. You throw your head back while a second and third slap land on your ass, your legs shaking and not a single sound from your lips during one of the most intense and satisfying experiences of your life.

You collapse on his chest, panting and laughing with what little breath you’ve got left. There’s a sudden, electric buzz in the air and the lights come back on, as you predicted.

“Are you okay?” he inquires, a tangible trace of confusion in his voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

You snuggle against him to play with the earring adorning his lobe. “I can’t even think straight... you were amazing.”

Bheem blushes and tries to maintain eye contact, but has to look away in the end; he just fucked you into a mind-blowing orgasm, still he’s too embarrassed to talk about it. No amount of words could ever describe or quantify the love you have for him.

“Come on, get up! We must feed you, Pallavi...!” he bellows, back to his usual cheerful self - his smile a beautiful reminder of how falling for him was, indeed, inevitable.

“I know, I’m starving,” you agree, and you retrieve your panties and kurti to swiftly put them on as you get off the bed, “but I’m going to take a long shower, first.”

He nearly throws you off balance when he grabs you by your waist, making you sit on his lap while he stares at you like he’s got a shocking secret to confess.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” he giggles, “three nights without you is definitely where I draw the line.”

@ronaldofandom, @gifseafins, @ladydarkey, @bheemaxrama, @astrafangs, @ronnoxandlumoss, @rambheemlove, @chaidrivenwhore, @ssabriel, @burningsheepcrown, @busy-bii

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

[babycharmander]

Hey this is cool--here’s confirmation on who Norma’s mentor is, since there’s some confusion over it. Often I see people claiming that Sasha is Norma’s mentor, but there’s nothing in the game suggesting this. However!

[ID: A Discord screenshot. User “RRR” asks “who are the respective mentors” to which Harper_Jay replies:

Norma- Hollis Lizzie - Compton Adam - Truman Gisu - Otto Morris - Milla Sam - Coach Raz - ???

/end ID]

This is from Psychowhatsits, a Psychonauts fan-server that some of the Double Fine staff lurk in. Before Psychonauts 2′s release, Harper would occasionally tease stuff and answer questions. In this case, they confirmed that Hollis is indeed Norma’s mentor! (Raz’s mentor is listed as “???” here because the game was not yet released and Harper was avoiding spoilers.)

Which, IMO, just brings up a hilarious question--with Truman completely unresponsive (or so they think) and Hollis massively stressed out and overworked, why did they both get mentees and not Sasha?

This means that either Sasha adamantly refused to receive a mentee, or Hollis adamantly refused to assign a mentee to Sasha, and the latter especially is extremely funny to me.

[albertasunrise]

Look for the Light - Part 8

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (Sorry this took a while... Been all over the shop with work so little to no time to write... Shit's hitting the fan folks! Enjoy!!)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You burst through the hospital doors in time to witness Tommy pleading with the doctor to give Joel the medicine he so desperately needed. Since you'd seen the older Miller last, violent shivering had taken up residency permanently. However, what surprised you more was the fact that he was conscious again. His brown eyes peeked through slits as he turned his head to look at you, a weak hand lifting ever so slightly as if attempting to reach for you. 

"The supply party are dead." You announced as you moved closer to the commotion. 

"I am aware." The doctor replied grimly, his eyes flitting between you and Tommy "I'm sorry but with our chance at replenishing our stores now up in smoke, I cannot risk using the last of the antibiotics we have. Not until more can be found." 

"Look at him!" Tommy yelled as he pointed at his brother. 

Your eyes followed the doctors and you choked on a sob at the sight that greeted you. His body seemed to levitate from how violently he shook. You knew he was running out of time and fast now. That medicine was his last hope. 

You heard your name fall from Joel's lips and you practically sprinted to his side, grabbing his hand and holding it firmly against your chest. Giving the man a weak smile, you started to stroke back the sweat-slick hair that was stuck to be brow and prayed that the motion would bring him some small quantity of comfort. 

"I-mm-mm s-s-so-rrr-y." He stuttered through chattering teeth, his eyes widening a little so he could look at you better.

"Shhh." You hushed him "Save your strength, Miller." 

"Mm-mm d-dd-dy-y-ing." He said and you simply shook your head at him. 

"No, you're not Miller!" You said with what you hoped was a convincing tone "You're going to make it. You hear me?!" You continued as you cupped his flushed cheek "You and I have some unfinished business to attend to." 

This statement made Joel chuckle a little. His eyes almost sparkled as he gazed at you with what you could have sworn was love. It made your heart race to think that this man loved you. That he felt even a little bit more for you than just two people who warmed each other's beds. 

"You're going to get better and then we are going to settle down in that house that Tommy gave us." You said softly as you returned to stroking his hair. 

"Mmm." He hummed, closing his eyes and smiling as he thought about your statement for a moment. 

"We'll raise Ellie together. We'll cook together. We'll find a guitar and you can play and sing to me whilst I read all the books in that house." 

"S-s-sing t-to th-the baby." He said almost wistfully and your head shot back. 

"Joel... we lost the baby." 

Joel's expression grew sad. His eyes remained closed as he silently wept, tears falling from the corners of his eyes as he started to shake again. It had seemed that the small fantasy you had given him had called him for a moment. Taken away a little bit of his suffering. 

Then you'd gone and unconsciously ripped that away from him. 

"I WANT TO SEE HIM." Someone yelled and you looked up to see Ellie trying to wrestle her way past Tommy. 

"Tommy, let her through." 

"No kid should have to witness this!" Tommy argued, his eyes matching the same sad expression you'd seen from Joel just a moment ago. 

"Fuck you." Ellie growled before shoving the man off of her and jogging to Joel's side "Why's he shaking?" 

"Infection's in the blood." You sighed, eyes drifting to Tommy a moment before returning to her "He needs more antibiotics." 

"So give him some!" 

"It's not that simple." You sighed "They are almost out and they can't risk using the last of it up." 

"To save a man's life?" Ellie scoffed "This is Maria's doing isn't it?" She asked accusingly as she turned her head to look between the doctor and Tommy "She doesn't like him. So she's letting him die." 

"It was a joint decision." The doctor piped up "We cannot put the life of one man ahead of everyone else here." 

'You mean his life?" Ellie scoffed "If it was anyone else, you wouldn't hesitate to save them but because it's Joel Miller... The man Maria has painted to be a soulless murderer to everyone here... You can't do it." 

"Ellie-" 

"Save it." She growled, stopping Tommy dead in his tracks "I wanna stay here and help take care of him." She stated plainly, leaving little room to argue "He should know that someone cares about him..." She trailed off as she turned her attention back to Joel. 

You gauped at her a moment before looking over at the doctor who was standing there, staring at the girl with a guilt-ridden expression. You smiled to yourself at the knowledge that the words of this 14-year-old girl had gotten to him. You just hoped she'd said enough to sway the council. 

...

Heading back to the house to catch a shower, you couldn't help but overhear the shouting that was coming from inside the house that Maria and Tommy shared. You knew it was rude to eavesdrop but you couldn't help yourself as you quietly crept towards their door and listened in. 

"HE'S DYING MARIA!"  Tommy yelled, his anguish clear in the tone of his "He's the only family I got left!" 

"What about me and the baby?" Maria scoffed "Are we not your family too?" 

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Tommy growled "The day of the outbreak took both my parents and my niece. Joel and I had to stick together and sure... we made some shitty decisions and we killed innocent people but we did what we did to survive!" 

"You did what you did because Joel told you to do it!" Maria growled and you could hear Tommy scoffing loudly. 

"Believe it or not sweetheart but I have a mind of my own..." You let out a stuttered breath as you waited for Tommy to continue, you could practically hear them both panting in anger and frustration "It wasn't just down to Joel. I made calls I wasn't proud of but I did them to protect my brother." 

"Tommy-" 

"You know the day after outbreak day... He tried to fucking kill himself." This statement made you gasp. 

Your hand clapped over your mouth as you attempted to hide the surprised sound that escaped you. Joel had never told you that. He had barely mentioned Sarah to you. 

"I found him laying on the ground in an alley with a bullet wound on the side of his fucking head... He couldn't see a way to live because his daughter was gone. He'd rather die than live without her." 

Your eyes welled with fresh tears and you thought about what you had just heard. The scar on Joel's temple. The man who shot and missed. It had been him all along. He had shot and he had missed and he had to live with that knowledge and pain every day. It explained a lot really. 

"I think we are getting a little off-topic." Came a new voice and you were startled at hearing the doctor's voice join the conversation "We need to decide whether we are willing to risk using the last of the antibiotics to save this man. I, personally, think we should." 

So Ellie's statement did hit a nerve. 

"I understand that as a medical man, you struggle to make tough decisions like this but until we can be sure that we are able to replenish our stocks. I can't allow it." 

"Maria-"

"I'm sorry Tommy but I just can't say yes to that." 

Your attention was pulled away from the conversation inside and to Ellie who was screaming your and Tommy's name as she sprinted down the dimly lit street towards the houses. 

"Ellie, what's wrong?" You said as you grabbed the teenager's shoulders and attempted to steady her as she cried "What's happened?" 

"He keeps shaking." She sobbed and your heart broke "He had a fit... and then another like immediately fucking afterwards and that doctor wasn't there. Just some nurse." 

"What's going on?" Maria asked as she, Tommy and the doctor aforementioned stepped out of the house and onto the street.

"What's happened is that Joel's got worse." You growled, unable to look at the woman. 

"What d'ya mean" Tommy questioned. 

"He's having back-to-back fucking fits Tommy because your fucking wife wants him dead." Ellie practically screamed, her tears streaming down her cheeks "He's gonna fucking die." 

"Come on." You said as you pulled her close in an attempt to soothe her but she was having none of it. 

"We need to go back." She choked "We need to go back and sit with him so he's not alone." 

"Ellie-"

"He shouldn't die alone." His statement hit you like a sack of bricks. Knocking the wind from your lungs. 

Tommy and the doctor were already heading back to the hospital and you found yourself unconsciously following them with your arm wrapped protectively around Ellie. When you entered the hospital, you were greeted by Joel's bed, surrounded by nurses. 

"What's happening?" You sobbed as you pushed your way to his side. 

"He's struggling to breathe." One of the women answered, "His seizures have stopped but he's barely hanging on now." 

Your eyes drifted to Joel whose lips had taken on a startling shade of blue. His chest was barely moving and you knew that he didn't have long now. 

Were they too late? 

"I'm getting the oxygen." Stated the doctor as he disappeared from view and into the back room. 

Suddenly Joel's body went rigid again and his body convulsed so violently you were sure his spine would snap. The doctor reappeared a few moments later with a rather battered-looking oxygen tank and a mask that he fought to strap over the fitting man's face. 

The fit ended as abruptly as it started. The doctor then started to inspect Joel and you all waited on bated breath for him to say something. Anything. 

"He's not breathing." 

Anything but that. 

You watched in horror as the bed was lowered and the pillows pulled from beneath Joel's head. The doctor then started compressions and both you and Ellie cried without a care to who might see or hear. This was your worst nightmare coming to fruition. 

"If he dies... it's on you." Tommy growled at his wife before he pulled you and Ellie into his arms and held you close. 

"He's breathing." Announced one of the nurses and you felt your knees give way. 

"CAN YOU MAKE THE CHOICE NOW?" Tommy yelled, his face red as he glared at his wife. 

Maria stood there in shocked silence for a while before her eyes then drifted to the doctor who was working diligently to keep Joel breathing. She dared look at you and Ellie who were hugging each other on the floor, opening sobbing as the weight of Joel's situation threatened to drown the two of you. 

"Give him the medicine." She stated, not tearing her eyes away from you and the young girl you'd come to look at as your own "Whatever we have. Give it to him." 

Both you and Tommy looked up at her in shock. Her eyes flitted between the two of you as her face morphed into one of shame and guilt. 

"I'm sorry." She said simply and you both knew exactly what she meant "I'm so sorry." 

You watched as Joel slept soundly. 

His fever had broken 3 days ago and the shaking had ceased an hour or so after that, you and Ellie hadn't left his side in the two days that followed Maria giving the go-ahead. It had still been touch and go. The infection had spread to the point where his chances had been slim even with the medicine but you and she had sat at his side and had talked to him. Kept him grounded you hoped. 

On the morning of day three, however, Ellie had been dragged to the school. There had been kicking and screaming but when you had told her that you would fetch her if anything changed. She left a little more willingly then. Now for two days, you had sat at his side. Talking to him. Reading to him and bathing him in the hope that he would open his eyes. 

The doctor had assured you that he was doing well. That the infection was clearing out and that with time and rest, he should make a full recovery. 

"Come on Miller." You said as you cleaned his brow with a damp cloth "You need to wake up now." 

Nothing. 

"You know... Don't think that just because you almost died and shit that I'm not still mad at you." You chuckled "We still have some shit to work through... But I wanna work through it." 

Still, you received no response and you let out a long sigh as you dropped down into your seat again. 

"I've been thinking about what they would have been like." You said after a short pause "The baby." You clarified "I think they would have been the spitting image of you... let's face it you got all the best features." You chuckled to yourself. 

Your hand took his again as you allowed a few stray tears to fall. 

"I keep imagining this sweet little boy with your eyes and hair." You paused a moment to wipe your tears with your sleeve "Maybe my cheekbones but mostly he'd get his looks from you. A little mini Joel Miller running around." 

"Heaven forbid." Choked a quiet voice and you looked up to see Joel weakly smiling at you. His head turned to the side. 

"Joel?" You squeaked as you got to your feet "You with me?" 

He nodded and you sobbed as you cupped his cheek and kissed him. Humming when he returned the kiss with as much passion as he could muster in his weakened state. 

"You fucking scared me." 

"Sorry." He mumbled, smiling when you kissed him again before sitting back down again "I imagined a girl." He piped up after a short pause. 

"Hmm?" 

"The baby." You replied, "I imagined it was a girl." He said with a wistful smile "A small version of you and me. My hair and eyes I guess but your nose and lips and smile." 

"She would have been damn fuckin' cute!" You chuckled and he smiled back at you. 

"Yeah... she would have been." He replied, before feeling his lids start to droop. 

"Rest up Miller. I'm gonna fetch the doc." 

You were drying the last dish when you felt two strong arms circle your waist and pull you against a firm body. You hummed at the feeling of his lips on your neck and let your head fall to the side to give him better access. 

"Where's Ellie?" You asked when one of Joel's hands started to wander. 

"At Dina's." He purred as he took your earlobe between his teeth, his other hand slipping past the waistband of the leggings you wore. 

The first few weeks after Joel had left the hospital had been tough. He had been weak. Struggling to do much for himself and so it had taken him a while to get used to you and Ellie helping him. There had been the odd spat here and there but he had soon learned to appreciate the help he was given. 

Now, one month on he was doing better. He still wasn't quite 100 per cent but he was getting stronger and stronger with each day that passed. And the stronger he felt, the bolder he became. Yet, you two still hadn't really discussed what you two were to each other. You hadn't discussed the fantasy that you'd fed him on his deathbed. 

None of it. 

But as of that moment. You didn't really care that you hadn't discussed it... Because all of this... This Domesticity that had developed organically between the two of you felt so right. So you let his hand slip down to cup your sex and you let him kiss your neck as he told you how sexy you look. You gasped when he spun you on the spot, lips parted as your eyes locked on his and shivered at his intense gaze. The two of you just stood there a moment, breathing each other in before his lips crushed against yours in a kiss so passionate it made your toes curl. 

You grinned against his lips as you felt him push down your leggings before he was then lifting you so you were sitting on the counter beside the sink, slotting himself between your parted legs as he continued to kiss you. Your moans grew filthy as he ripped your remaining clothing off and you did your best to remove his. There was no foreplay. You both needed each other desperately and you gasped in unison when he sheathed himself inside of you in one hard thrust of his hips. 

"Fuck Joel." You whimpered as he started a brutal pace from the onset, your nails digging into the muscles on his back as he fucked you senseless. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered between kisses.

"Joel-"

"For everything." He interrupted, kissing you hard as his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer "For all of it." 

"Joel I-"

"I love you." 

You choked on a sob at his confession. Kissing him hard when he looked like was about to panic and that spurred him on. His thrusts became more focused when his length started to pound against your sweet spot, pulling the filthiest sounds from your lips. 

"Fuck I love you, baby." He growled as he started to feel you flutter around him, his free hand then slipping between you so he could rub your clit. 

"Fuck... Joel, I'm... I'm... Fuck I'm cumming." You shrieked before your core started to pulse around him, gripping him hard. 

"Fuck!" He moan as he fucked you through your high. His following shortly after when he buried his length as deep as he could and hide his face him your neck as he allowed himself to revel in the feeling of being inside you again. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, just allowing the pleasure you'd both experienced to saturate everything but it hadn't skipped your notice that Joel had come inside of you. 

Had he meant to?

"Joel." You whispered and he knew exactly what you were going to ask him. 

"I know baby." He muttered as he pulled his head back so he could kiss you languidly "I want this with you." He assured you between kisses "I want it all with you." 

You couldn't have stopped the smile that spread across your face even if you had tried. 

He wanted you. 

And that's all that mattered. 

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[voidsteffy]

Manu's Masterlist

1. RRR

Bheem x fem!OC

Towards the Sunlight

Rambheem/Sinny

Chandamama

2. Hi! Nanna

Home - I

Home - II

3. Godavari - wip

4. Bommarillu - wip

5. Mirchi

Promises: Jai x fem!OC Madhu

6. S/O Satyamurthy

Anand x fem!OC (Swapna)

[ramcharantitties]

Rasiya

S/n: just a lil smut :)

Rrr! Ram x fem! Reader

Part 2

"YOU STO-" "shhh" "you stole this?" Jenny stared at you with a smug smile, and nodded quickly. Jenny, with her friend, recently visited a woman deep in the forest, said to heal people spiritually. Her friend believed in such superstitions, and Jenny just tagged along. There, her eyes caught sight of a small vile, which the woman introduced as an aphrodisiac- a potion made of everything that may make a person lost in their sexual needs. Jenny knew exactly whom to give this to.

Jenny spoke up, as you investigated the tiny bottle, "Just add this in a glass of milk, it will be fine. For the worst, nothing will happen, and for the best" you looked back at her, and both erupted in a fit of laughter. "I hope I don't regret this" you muttered, when a clang of metal, familiar as the latch of the door was heard outside. You placed the bottle behind the steel containers in the shelf, following Jenny out. Your husband has finally come home.

"Jennifer, great to see you" Ram greeted her, and they mingled in a conversation for a while. Realizing the time, she bid goodbye to both of you, smiling mischievously.

Ram changed from his uniform and freshened up, settling with a book on bed. "Do you want some milk?" Ram peered at you, leaning on the door frame. He nodded, quickly going back to reading. It wasn't like you weren't getting any action, but you always felt that Ram held back so he does not hurt you. Maybe this will help in some way? You emptied the liquid in the warm glass, mixing it thoroughly. You sipped a spoonful, just to ensure if you could taste something different. Nothing. Making your way to the shared room, you couldn't help but giggle on the inside.

Ruffling his mop of hair, you placed the glass beside him, earning a side eye from him. "I am gonna take a bath" you informed, disappearing behind the door, eyeing Ram picking up the glass.

It wasn't even ten minutes later, but you couldn't help but rub your bare legs, the anklets chiming by the movement. If a spoonful was making you feel like this, how is Ram so silent outside? You adjusted your blouse and tied the knots of your skirt, your saree waiting on the bed.

For some reason, Ram couldn't concentrate anymore on the words in front of him. His mind wandered off to your scent, your supple skin and bright eyes. It wasn't strange, but this felt ignited and induced. Ram felt his heart speed up, just thinking about you. He gulped, feeling the strain near his thigh. This, was strange. Yes, you have made him feel aroused many times, but usually you did something that attracted him to you. Right now he only drank the glass of milk- was there something in it?

The wooden noise of the bathroom door alerted Ram you were making over to the bedroom. Ram heard the anklets and saw you come in the room, your wet hair open, just in blouse and skirt. He couldn't help but stare. When the gods made you, they spent days to perfection.

You kept your feet on the dressing table, rubbing the scented oil on your shins, switching legs. Later, you moved up, rubbing the oil on your back and neck. Ram shut his book close, keeping it beside the empty, foggy white glass. He made his way to the windows and closed the gates, pulling the curtain over them. You stared at him from the mirror, nervous. When he shut the door, Ram made sure to make eye contact with you in the mirror. The room had slanted rays of setting sun highlighting the floor and some of the books, except that, it was pretty much brown and dark.

Ram slowly walked towards you. You turned around to face him, and backed on the dressing table as you felt him coming close. Only mere centimeters away, Ram leaned in, placing a hand on the mirror behind you. You couldn't find the Ram in his eyes you usually do. There was something far more fiercer, penetrating his gaze. It didn't look like the shy Ram who hugged you and kissed your neck and asked you if you wanted to make love tonight. These eyes looked like as if they would hunt you down and devour you.

"What did you add in the milk?" Ram could tell by your expression you were caught. "Nothing" you muttered, just above your breath. Ram's hand caught your wrist, holding it behind your body. He paid no attention to your scrunched eyebrows. "Are you going to lie to me?" He rasped in your ear, making you shudder. Your mind went in a frenzy, and settled on doing something he might not like. You pushed past him, hurrying to the door, when Ram caught your wrist, pulling you in his chest hard. He then slammed you on the wall, eliciting a yelp from you. He held your hands tightly above you in a strong grip.

"Do you want me to repeat myself?" His voice dropped octaves, sending a shiver down your spine. "A- aphrodisiac" you could see his gears turning physically, from confusion to realisation, to a smirk on his face- revenge? Ram's hand moved to the back of your head, grasping your hair. You gasped, holding his wrist. It sting. Ram sat you down on the bed, loosing his grip. "You don't get enough of what I give?" Ram's question looked more like a threat. Scared, you nodded, only to be pushed back on the bed with a sudden force on your shoulder. You sat up on your elbows, feeling naked all of a sudden. "If that's so, then why would you add a whole vile of that potion in my milk?" That was the last thing you expected to see- Ram holding the small bottle in his fingers. Your eyes widened on their own.

The look of a hunter was prominent on his face as he crawled up on you. He looked like a desperate lion in heat. As if you would succeed, you tried to get back away from him, realising you were caught between the headboard and Ram himself. There was an attempt to run away, but Ram grabbed your thighs and pulled you close to him, holding himself on top of you. The only coldness he had in his body was the Om locket that touched your chin. "If you keep running away, I'll have to tie you. Do you want me to do that, Mrs. Ramaraju?" you felt your breath leaving your body when he rasped the words in your ear. The title from his lips felt like you were floating in the wind. You've started to like the choice you've made.

Ram stared at your nervous face, but the only thing his mind would settle on were your lips. The pink, plump lips he so wanted around his cock. He leaned down to capture your lips in his, pushing his tongue out. Not sure if it was the potion or you, Ram felt that he was dizzy. The only thing that made sense to him was the kiss, the feeling of your lips on his, the rubbing of his facial hair and your occasional mewls. You felt Ram's hand trail down your body, from your naval, to your waist, making his way in the fold of your skirt. You felt his warm hands on your thighs, parting them away.

He didn't want to let go, the sweet taste of your tongue, but the lack of breath pulled him away. Your red lips didn't make anything better for him. You moaned when you felt his fingers on your clothed cunt, massaging it. His hand moved inside, when you felt a cold metal on your clit. You looked at him surprised, only to see him smirk. You realised the bottle of potion was missing. You didn't know what he was doing, but you could feel a wet substance, except you, being spread on your lips. Ram's fingers massaging sends waves down your body, making you moan. His fingers moved down to your aching hole, only to feel the base of the bottle on your entrance. You couldn't help but close your eyes, feeling the now warm bottle enter you. Ram saw your face contort in pleasure, moans escaping endlessly. He was right to close the doors. The bottle was just half a finger long, not giving you enough. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you, your every expression. He heard your plea, your hold on his arm knowing you wanted more but he wasn't willing to fulfill your needs.

Ram pulled his hand out, throwing the bottle somewhere on the bed. You saw his glistening fingers, and your legs shut on their own. Ram crawled off you, and you followed his movements, sitting on the bed. "Whatever you've done to me" he put his hand around your throat, standing you up. "You're going to pay for it."

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Part 1 Done! Part 2 is wip <3

Tagging: @ramayantika @jkdaddy01 @yehsahihai @chaanv

[riacte]

Me seeing mcc reddit´s questionable opinions on certain players and over-reliance in statistics once again 0.0

I actually like statistics and random data, but it is crazy how much they rely on that to make predictions without looking at the actual context from where those numbers come from, like team composition and placement, the cast of those mccs in particular,games played, if they were playing competively or for fun etc. Especially before the games are even announced. An even then, mcc is very inconsistent, there are teams who look meh do crazy good and the other way around

My favourite example is Bekyamon, bc people underrate her so much even though she has been top 10 twice in the lasy year, and top fragged her team when they won the Ender Cup. But then reddit is like "but she got 37th once". Guys, she was playing with Tommy, Tubbo and Jack fucking Manifold, and they were all drunk as fuck

This is a post inspired by people sleeping on Cyan btw, like I don´t think they are gonna win and it all depends on how well Ren adapts to coming back and the games played, but still I see them 6-4th. Ant is a crazy good leader, Martyn is extremely inconsistent but can pop off with the right games/mindset and False is very underrated and a very reliable teammate, I hope rocket spleef rush is played because she would go nuts. I watched Ant´ do some predictions and he mentioned how he feels that False can pop off in RRR but her team often doesn´t listen to her enough. He also predicted their team 1st in Sands of Time <3

Praying for SoT, RRR and Grid Runners for team games this mcc btw, I don´t really enjoy Bingo tbh and Build Mart is alright, but I like the others bettter

Sorry for the rant, reddit hates me as much as I hate it

I know the reddit often compares itself to sports reddit but I feel like more accurately they’re like shounen fans who go “omg who is more powerful the protag from this series or protag from the other series”.

What makes stats even more unreliable is that this is a TEAM TOURNEYYY and people have different styles so they mesh together differently! And Noxcrew basically said “fuck numbered MCCs, fuck it we ball ❤️” and several participants have mentioned pressure from Reddit sooo

I saw Ant’s predictions by the way and saw the SoT prediction and was like yay ❤️ mcc15 redo ❤️ also yayyyy another person who’s like “we should listen to False more” this is gonna be great

Idk this team already seems like an unhinged riot. Reddit play nice to our returning babygirl and don’t be ageist and/or misogynist 🙏