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rubyvhs · 2 days ago

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who’d believe? | dean winchester

summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.

You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.

The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them).

An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree.

You should really work on saying no.

Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.

"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."

You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."

"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"

Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”

"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way.

"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.

"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"

You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI.

The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean.

There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.

But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.

The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.

"Right, yes. Hi, Officer."

She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"

"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"

"Is that not what they say anymore?"

"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way.

You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends.

Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.

By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.

"Look, I don't know what happened—"

"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times.

But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.

But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.

"I'm—"

"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever.

"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one.

In your defense, everyone knows.

"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes.

Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers.

You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.

He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you."

He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.

"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."

You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth.

He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.

His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever.

This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw.

"We— Dean, can't here—"

He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing.

Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right."

"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?

He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"

"Are you asking me to not stay?"

He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance.

"De, someone can see—"

"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."

He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over.

"Can't believe you're here, and all for me."

"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."

"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently.

"Yes."

When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares.

Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest.

"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you."

He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."

You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—

He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot.

You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out.

He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.

The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.

Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience.

It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest.

He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?"

You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'.

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figthoughts · 13 hours ago

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How do you think SB and Dean would react to reader safewording? I have some sort of idea for Dean, but with SB? Very mixed tbh

omg i have many thoughts !! allow me to ramble thank u ! (soldier boy’s part is a little ehhhh, just read with caution if ur sensitive to dubcon type scenarios!) 18+ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

— dean winchester ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

dean loves sex. he’s made that abundantly clear throughout your relationship. anytime he can get his hands on you, he will. and so naturally, you’ve spent time learning each other’s bodies, kinks, likes ‘n dislikes and everything in between. you’re entirely comfortable together.

so one day when you suddenly blurt out your safe word, dean pauses, his eyes flickering up to meet yours — to check in with you.

“baby, you okay? you wanna stop?” his words are gentle and full of love, concern splashed across his features.

his face softens while he nods along to your quiet explanation, pulling out/away from whatever he’d been doing to you. he settles down beside you, watching you as if you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.

“s’okay, sweetheart. we can stop. you don’t need an excuse. if you’re not feeling up to it, it’s not a big deal. we can just cuddle if you want,” he shrugs with a reassuring expression on his face, “you look like you need a hug, yeah? c’mere.”

dean opens his arms for you, letting you crawl against his chest. he nuzzles his chin into the top of your head, holding you snug against him, his hand rubbing down your back in a soothing motion.

“thank you for letting me know, baby,” he murmurs against your hair, leaving a soft kiss. he’s just happy you feel safe enough to ask him to stop whenever you need.

— soldier boy [ben] ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

i can’t decide between two ideas, so i’m giving you both !!

ben—your ben—the world’s strongest man who, simultaneously, is the world’s softest man the second he’s got his sweet little lady between his sheets.

there’s no denying he fucks like a pornstar on speed. it’s sometimes frightening how long he can keep at it — fucking you until you’re spent and boneless, blissed out and overstimulated from your umpteenth orgasm. he loves when you’re unable to form words, just soft incoherent babbles that force a grin to spread across his face as he plows into you with a superhuman force.

he loves going over the top to please you. and so it’s no surprise when you mumble out your safe word through warm salty tears, tired and unable to take any more of what he’s giving you. he slows down, meeting your gaze with his own. “what’s the matter? had enough, my pretty lady?”

ben knows sex with him can be a lot, and considering you’re just a sweet little doll, he knows it’s up to you to call it when you’ve had enough — cause if it were up to ben, you’d never leave his damn bed.

your mumbled pleas earn a nod in return from ben, “alright, babygirl. s’not a problem. here—” he pulls himself away from you, “i’ll run you a bath, yeah?”

you watch him get up and start heading to the bathroom, but not before he turns around, throwing you a cheeky wink, “i think that might’ve been a new record for ya, doll.”

alternatively… ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

ben’s rough. he’s rough around the edges. you know it. he knows it. everyone he’s ever met knows it. but he doesn’t just look rough or talk rough — he fucks rough.

you’re no stranger to the supe and how he bends you in half, like he’s unafraid of breaking you with his strength and brute force. for the most part, you take it like a good little thing, letting him break you down into nothing, but a whimpering little mess below him. and he loves it, ruining women while he doesn’t even break a sweat.

so when he mentions going a little further—adding a few new things to your nightly affairs—you agree, but only with the clear understanding that you get a safe word.

and ben agrees. i mean, anything to get his babydoll back into his bed, right?

so when he’s got you in half, your limbs flailing around in the air, pleading for him to stop, he simply doesn’t. he knows you know your safe word, and he hasn’t heard it leave your sweet little mouth yet. so he continues on, tiring out your sore body beyond belief — he’s really getting his kicks from seeing you all fucked out and begging like your life depends on it.

“look at you, damn slut. you like this, don’t you?” he grunts out, watching you sob and try to free yourself from his restraints. your eyes are filled to the brim with tears, your emotions clear on your face. he loves that you’re taking it for him — being a good ol’ little thing for him.

so it’s much to his surprise when you sob out your safe word. he’s a little bewildered to say the least. his brows pinch together, but he doesn’t slow down, not one bit.

his thrusts get harder, his eyes locked on your pleading little face. “just give me a damn minute. i’m close,” he mutters, his breath a little laboured, as if seeing you like this is the driving factor pushing him to the edge.

it doesn’t take long for him to finish, and when he does, he’s panting with the stupidest grin on his face. he slumps down on top of you, invading your space, “jesus, that was fuckin’ something, hey? you liked that, my sweet little thing?”

all you can do is sniffle and try to catch your breath while his weight crushes you. he presses a kiss to your cheek and he hears your breath hitch. and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants — in the palm of his fucking hand.

A/N: this was soooo fun to type up !!! i love scenario requests sm (feel free to send me more) !!!!!! also first time writing something a lil darker w the dubcon part !!! what do we thinkkkkk? <3

feedback and reblogs are appreciated! thank uuu!

✩ taglist cause why not: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @floralscented @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @sl33pylilbunny @k-slla @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate

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star2fishmeg · 2 days ago

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need some luke x inexperienced reader PLEASE just too good

Luke's hand lay under your t-shirt, flat against your spine, his other cradling your nape with your pyjama shorts clad thighs straddling his lap and curls tugged by your fingers as lips move and lap in languid motions. Elongated moans muting any noise from beyond your bedroom door, volume increasing when his hand slides from your neck and over her breast, cupping and giving it a soft squeeze before you part, hot breaths panting onto the surface of your swollen lips and eyes flickering to each other. He can't begin to explain the heat that surges through him every time you kiss him, his head just floats straight to cloud nine and ears blocked everything but the sounds you make when you grind down on him experimentally.

His hands fall to the hem of your t-shirt, his old Michigan one that's you've been stealing since you met as freshman, fingers wrapping around the fabric.

Luke's voice drops low, raspy and still catching his breath slightly, "Can I?"

"Only if you will too..." you mumble, retracting your arms away from his hair.

He lets the fabric go and pulls his own shirt over his head first before removing yours. You think about looking away but it's Luke, his eyes are too soft and he's gently running his hands along your back so, when you go to meet his gaze, you're surprised to see him locked on your breasts. He licks his lips before pressing sweet kisses to the flesh, over the top and into the valley, hands finding their way to cup over the lacy bra and thumbs rubbing over your nipples. He can't help it, he's obsessed with them, they're the best pillows he's ever had and nuzzling his face in them is a past time, but without the barrier of a t-shirt, his hairs stand on end and his cock twitches.

"Look at you, beautiful." He groans deeply when his nose presses in the valley, pushing your breasts together to bury his face entirely. You feel his lips, his mouth trailing sloppy and wet kisses wherever he can, teeth grazing and buds pebbling under the padding.

"Lu," your hands find his hair again, nails massaging into his scalp as his teeth nip the flesh, "can...can we try something?"

He raises his head and kisses the corner of your lips, "What is it, baby? You sure?"

"I...fuck, this is hard...I want you, uh, to suck my tits. Please. Apparently, it's good and, uh, you like my tits a lot so, like..." you notice the way his eyes sparkle, elated that you've finally granted him full access to his favourite place to sleep.

"Yeah...oh yeah, I can do that, shit, baby." His lips quirk into a crooked smile, excitement fizzling in his chest and he plants both hands on your lower back, pulling you closer on his lap and sliding his palms up your spine. Freedom fills your back, the band of your bra unclasping and you can't bear watch it hit the floor, not that you get the chance before Luke's peppering your cheeks with kisses. "You sure you’re, okay? Just say so and I'll stop if you aren't diggin' it, okay?"

"Okay-oh!" you moan abruptly, it only taking him a split second to hear your consent before his warm mouth latches to your nipple, hand pushing against your spine and guiding you to arch into him.

Your eyes flutter close, jaw faltering open with shockwaves of euphoria as his tongue swirls around your bud, the tip flicking between phases swirling and suckling. Your hips buck into him when he groans, the vibration's a sweet, pleasurable paradise through your nerves and your fingers grip his hair harsher, keeping him into your chest.

When he pulls off with a wet 'pop', you whimper as the cold air brushes your nipple, now soaked with saliva and swollen but before the words leave your throat, he's taking your other breast into his mouth, hungrily. Sometimes you forget how strong he really is, but you're thankful he reminds you by pushing you backwards, your back hitting the mattress and situating his biceps either side of you, lips sucking firmly and tongue moving in circles around your nipple.

"Luke," you whine out with a smile, "oh, Lu."

His large palm encases your free breast, groping and taking the bud between his pointer and middle finger, rolling it to draw those high-pitched whimpers you love to torment him with so much. The sensations new, so new but tremendously stimulating with bursts of craving in your stomach, those tingles that feel like flips. You want him to touch you like this all the time, relish how he loves every part of you.

Pulling away again, Luke rasps, looking at you with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, "Fucking love your tits, baby. Did I do okay?"

"I didn't say stop, do it again." You push his head back to your breast, his chuckle intoxicating but not as addicting as his tongue flicking over your nipple again, lips suctioning over the wet surface of your skin and your head tips back into the sheets, mewling out his name while his hand and mouth work in tandem.

#≡lh43 #luke hughes #luke hughes smut

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astracora · 3 days ago

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Turning Point - Part 2

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 4260

Written: 3rd January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. You know I said 'sometime', turns out that was today. I have brainrot. Also, the birth of the group chat!

Now Playing: Hit the Ground, by if found

Masterlist AO3

<- Previous Next ->

You absently stare into the bowl as Zayne sutures your wounds. His hands are steady now, that he has a task. You'd felt him trembling earlier, fingers colder than they normally were, against your skin. At odds with the almost fever you were running.

He's a familiar person to tend to you, you hadn't realised how uncomfortable you'd felt in a hospital without him. Other people putting your broken pieces back together again. Until you'd relaxed at his hands. You're not used to being seen fragile, you don't like it when Zayne sees you like that, but you dislike it even more when someone else sees it.

Though… you can see the others looking at you. Watching as you flinch, at each pass of the needle.

That need to run, to hide, lurks at your back. Trembling. You don't want to be weak for them. Xavier is your partner, he has to rely on you in a fight. You're Rafayel's bodyguard, who can he rely on if he's scared for you. Sylus is far too strong to look at your weakness, and see anything other than a pathetic little cat that's too much work. Zayne will eventually grow tired of helping you, of being there.

Seeing you like this, surely reminds them that you're too much work, that you're a waste of the effort they put into you. Reminds them how fragile the little fluttering organ is in your chest. Pushes you into an unappealing light. Spotlighting every ding and scratch and dent.

Rafayel had eased you through the motions to get clean, gently cleaning around your wounds. Ensuring Zayne could disinfect you, and tend to you. He had kept his face controlled. While you had barely wanted to look at his face, the lack of expression on him had made you peer into his eyes. Seeking out an explanation, information… anything. Desperate to understand what was going through your fish's mind.

Too scared to ask. In case he was disgusted, horrified… hated you. When he'd noticed you trying to catch his eyes, he'd turned towards you. Hand stiling, soap suds on his own skin, soaking through his white shirt. After a moment, his smile, small but familiar, had returned.

"Are you comfortable?"

It was a hard question to answer. You weren't sure you could ever be comfortable, not before, not now. Your body felt off, wrong. Twisted into shapes that didn't fit under your skin.

He ran the sponge gently down your arm, gentle circles against your skin. His other hand on your waist, carefully avoiding any injuries and bruises, thumb rubbing circles, putting pressure in a spot you could fixate on. The heat of his skin a familiar brand. Not unlike the brand that glowed on his neck.

You wanted to reach for his hand, but the limb that wasn't there couldn't move. It couldn't grasp him, and the choke in your throat startled him upright. Hand moving to your face, holding your cheek and grounding you. "It's ok cutie, it's ok." Pressing his forehead to yours and pressing a kiss to the side of your face, "I'm not going anywhere. You have this fishie for life, got it?"

The nod you offer back to him is weak and numb, but you find yourself nuzzling him, seeking him out, eyes closed so you don't have to worry about what you'll see in his eyes. Just what you feel in his hands. Hear in his words.

As Zayne finishes up his work, gently applying bandages to your now clean, freshly tended wounds, he exhales relief. Warm breath against your back, before helping you slip into an overly large button-up of Xavier's to keep warm.

You stare at the sleeve, empty and fallen against your side… you want to tear it off.

It's a violent, angry feeling. Vicious and snarling in your gut. Hissing.

Your hand reaches up, but you wince at the pull on your sutures, and it falls back down. Xavier reaches over, one hand soothing your fingers from where they've tensed into a claw, "Eat, Starlight." before he begins to roll the offending sleeve up. Rafayel hands him some of the bandage pins, and eventually it sits at your shoulder.

It's better. It's not perfect. It's better.

Even if it makes it harder to ignore.

You hesitantly reach for the spoon, lifting it, spilling some of the soup over onto the pillow you'd been clutching on your lap. You ignore it, hunger snapping, and focus on food. The food you haven't eaten since the hospital let you go. It doesn't take long before you're shoveling it into your mouth, hand shaking, and spilling down your chin, but finishing the bowl. Ravenous. You come close to licking the bowl clean, but it's taken away, and refilled before you can. So you resume feeding the beast in your stomach.

Finally, you are sated, and calmer. There is a mess on the pillow you can't even bear to think about cleaning, and you're licking at the mess that spilled down the spoon onto your hand. Before Sylus has a wet wipe in his own, wiping at your cheeks. Cleaning your chin. You blink up at him, his controlled expression. Nothing shining through his eyes, though he laughs a little, "Messy little kitten, aren't you?"

It should be embarrassing, you think it is. You know it should be. You aren't a child, you don't need tending to… but you're so tired, and already so full of emotions you can't name. Twisting around your heart. That this is the lowest concern for you.

If he was going to hate you for being messy, then it's just another thing he can find disappointing about you.

Rafayel laughs, and it sounds more like him, "I told you I make the best fish, cutie." You look over, seeing him watching you.

You feel naked under the adoration in beautiful eyes. Turning away, to look back at the others.

It's… odd seeing them all in your apartment, the little dumb part of your brain provides. It's definitely not big enough for five people. Zayne is next to you on the sofa, packing his tools away. Raffy is sat on the floor, legs crossed, he is playing with party fish in his lap. Squishing its cheeks. Xavier is leaning forwards against the table, arms crossed and chin resting on them, while he has his eyes focused on you. Sylus is leaning against the wall, he has opened the window, so Mephisto has settled on your lamp as a perch, and he flips a coin around his fingers.

You realise absently, that he's ready incase you need something, to move and grab it. Or to refill the bowl again.

When you finally manage to speak, it's a dumbfounded question, asked in a hoarse, sore voice, "When did you all meet?" It's not the most pressing issue, but you cannot seem to move forwards from the image of the four of them here.

Standing in front of you. Not… killing each other? Or at least, not trying to kill Sylus. Maybe they just didn't… know who he was. You'd only ever talked about him as Skye.

Zayne lets out a sigh, pushing his glasses up, and looks over at the others, "Today. Outside your door, except for Xavier, who I ran into when I was chasing up information about you at the Association."

"You have a lot of friends, cutie." Raffy pouts, resting his cheek on the top of party fish's body. "Here I was thinking I was your favourite fish."

It's not really a laugh that you respond with, but it's as close as you can get, "You're the only fish I know, Raffy, of course you're my favourite." His responding smile is soft, eyes wavering like flames, as he looks right at you. Happy to hear even a small bit of joy out of you.

"That needs explaining." Zayne looks over at Rafayel, an eyebrow raised, "Along with the Crown Prince, nonsense from earlier."

Xavier's shoulders jump and he pouts, "It's not important."

"What a terrible lie from a prince." Sylus purrs from where he stands, canines sharp and glinting.

"Says the crime lord."

"Excuse me?" Zayne's hand reaches out to pull you back and a little closer to him, eyes narrowing on both Xavier and Sylus now. "Skye is who?"

"Sylus, actually, dear doctor. Don't worry, I don't bite." His head tilts, looking at you with a smirk, "Unless I like you."

You jump, cheeks heating up a little, turning to look at Zayne who looks ever more like a headache is brewing, and his blood pressure is rising. "The leader of Onychinus… Didn't he try to kill you?"

"How cruel, I wasn't the one shooting the gun."

"What?"

You cover your face with one hand, rubbing at the space below your eyes, where strain is setting in. They notice the reaction, quietening down as you shrink back in on yourself. Tired, worn and aching.

"Take these." Zayne extends the medication you threw, as Sylus hands you a glass of water.

You want to throw them back. If you take them, it means you need them. It makes this reality.

You know that the fact they're seeing you, right now… like this, means its reality. It doesn't make it any easier.

Zayne takes your hand, firm, stable, and cool hand easing yours open, rubbing a circle into your palm with his thumb, before putting the tablets in it. Counted out properly. "Take them." It's as close to an order as you can get, and it's enough to make you ease them into your mouth, taking the glass from Sylus to wash the vile taste away. You almost sputter, but a warm hand gently eases the back of your neck. You see bright red eyes watching you, narrowing, as he helps you swallow.

You feel like you're staring into the abyss for a moment, before they melt into lava, and soften into concern. When he sees you're alright, he releases, but not before tracing your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"You should sleep, starlight." Xavier frowns, he looks like a sad rabbit, ears drooping. You want to reach over to pat his head, but your arm is sore and tight where the stitches pull. For a moment you look at the prosthetic where it sits on the table.

You'd spent this whole time ignoring it, like if you ignore it, it won't turn into a monster and rip you apart. It sits there, silver metal and black leather. The urge to throw it doesn't come back, which surprises you.

It doesn't look like a beast. Like a monster.

It's just a piece of technology, sitting there, staring at you.

"Or can you tell us what happened? If you don't want to sleep." Xavier adds. Watching where your gaze settles. He reaches out, hesitates, then pulls his hand back. Like he's scared to touch something that hurts you this way. Normally so willing to jump into danger for you, but this… it's a different kind of pain, he can't fight for you.

The offer is said softly. Your partner wasn't there when you got hurt, the guilt in his eyes, for not being there when you needed him most. You have to alleviate it.

He isn't to blame.

You are.

So you put the pillow aside, reaching for one that doesn't need cleaning, and pull it to your chest, needing something to hold to process. They watch as you do, and then you slowly speak.

Explain to them it was just another mission.

Metafluctuations, weak but present, in an old apartment building that was due for demolition. It was a quick check, if anything happened, you were to contact Tara. Hunters in the area ready to step in if it was worse than expected.

There were some knaves in the building, weak and easy to deal with, but too close to populated areas to be left alone. Once they had been dealt with, you checked for any other fluctuations. Nothing had stuck out, your resonance hadn't returned anything to be concerned about.

Until the Myst appeared, another of Ever's twisted tools, swinging its horrific battleaxe around the area, destroying everything in its path. You'd been surprised but you were capable, you'd sent the message to Tara. You'd been ready to fight, before the building shook, its foundations cracking, the walls falling in.

The ceiling falling down.

Debris raining down on top of you, and the framework of the building smashing down around you.

The Myst had gone to attack you, but the pain, the bloodloss, the metal pinning your arm had made you useless. Unable to protect yourself or fight back. You'd pulled against the metal, struggling, but too slowly.

You remember gunshots. Other hunters yelling, but that was when you'd blacked out. Relieved someone had reached you, stopped this monster from hurting anyone else.

If you were going to die, at least you knew one of Ever's tools wouldn't be out destroying more lives. Yours was an easy trade to make for that.

You'd woken up in hospital, arm already gone, wounds sutured, body bandaged. Numb to the world thanks to the anesthesia. Drifting in and out of tormented sleep. Remembering flames, and metal pinning you, as you watched it burn. Watching bones turn to ash, and skin ripping against the strain of your struggle.

You'd been sent home to rest when they thought it safe to let you go, giving you instructions for a psych eval, and the information for your physical therapy. Tara had brought you home, you'd felt numb and empty… but aware enough that you didn't want anyone else to know. No one else to see.

She's suggested calling people, you'd begged her not to. Limbs so weak she had to struggle to help you around. She'd brought you to the apartment, helped you get into bed, and asked if she could stay.

You'd promised to be fine, you'd call her. You promised you'd call her.

You were a liar. Just like Caleb. Promising when you'd wake up, you'd see him everyday.

You'd tried to sleep, you had, but it ached, everything ached, and you kept reaching for your phone with an arm that wasn't there. You kept trying to roll over, but pulling stitches.

The fabric on your bed began to itch and hurt, and bother every part of you. So you'd pulled yourself, heaving, nauseous and dizzy out of your bed. Falling to the floor, where you'd stayed, unwilling to struggle anymore. Not wanting to look at the world around you anymore.

Then they'd found you, a few days later. Exhausted, hurting and just existing in a space where you could only crave a release from it.

Dragging you back into the land of the living.

Zayne looked even more exhausted than he normally did, leaning back a little into the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. Sylus was watching you with a look that indicated he had a lot to say, and was unsure where to start, arms folded across his chest. Rafayel had slinked forward, and had placed his cheek against your lap, hand reaching up to hold onto your leg. Keeping you there, with him. Xavier hadn't stopped staring at you, his starry eyes had dimmed, losing the bright light in them, as he watched you.

Disappointed in you.

You'd messed up, and he'd realised.

Pity.

You were pitiful.

"You're alive." Zayne exhales, voice breaking, as he leans back forward. "You're alive, and that's what matters."

It surprises you. You're not sure why. Zayne has told you many times… all he wants is for you to be alive. That no matter what else, that is what matters. For you to be there, no matter what form you hold. To keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep living.

To live.

You'd teased him for having a low bar for happiness, and he'd smiled, that small but warm smile, looked at you and told you that with you, the happiness came from you being there.

It is a low bar, you suppose, but you are hunted, and hated by people whose faces you cannot even know. You have a job where you fight everyday, to protect others. You exist in a world where your heart could fail you, any moment.

To be alive, means you have not been defeated yet.

It is a low bar… but you suppose it is a starting point.

"I'm alive." You affirm, even though you feel fragile and broken and worthless. Even though you feel like you did all the way through your teen years. Waiting for Caleb to turn his back on you, stop caring for you. Think you are too much work.

You are alive, against all odds, and against anyone's attempts to change it.

Despite fate biting at your heels, to hold you back with thorned chains.

It's enough… maybe. For now.

Xavier stands as your head begins to droop, the days of struggle catching up with you. He crouches in front of you, "Can I please, take you to bed? You need to sleep, starlight." Your nod is unbidden, because truly you can't focus on anything now. The medication is working, and it is moments before you pass out.

The blood loss, the pain, the fear. You are a puppet whose strings are cut. Left in the hands of artisans who have mended broken parts.

"We'll be here when you wake up, cutie. Promise."

"Good night, kitten."

Warm arms lift you like you are a feather, pressed against familiar heat and scent, carried gently. Gliding. You barely register the blankets, but your bed is remade. It no longer smells metallic. As you're tucked in carefully, your lone hand grasps at Xavier, keeping him from pulling away. Scared to face the inevitable alone.

Scared to be alone.

No one there to help when you're at your lowest.

No matter how independent, no matter how long you've fought and moved forwards alone, you don't want to be alone now. When everything is crashing down, and you feel worthless.

"I'll stay." He promises, brushing your forehead, pressing a kiss there. Cool and calm, and tranquil. A starry sky you've stared at every day.

It is enough to push you to the edge, and down into the quiet.

—---

When Xavier reenters the room, he's yawning. Made tired by watching you fall into sleep himself.

He closes the door behind him, hearing hushed conversation and approaches the living room. This time everyone is sitting, even Sylus. Who has settled somewhat since you had left the room, no longer on guard. No longer waiting to appease a desire. Any desire.

"Let me get this straight, you're a lemurian… as well as a famous artist-"

"I'm actually more insulted you don't know my art at all, doc." Rafayel pouts, tightening his grip on party fish. There's the small look in his eye like he wants to throw it at the other man's head, but reigns in the urge. Like a cat debating knocking a glass off the table, but getting caught.

Zayne sighs, and continues, "You're the crown prince of Philos, who… traveled back in time?" He turns to look at Xavier, who settles himself into some of the cushions you kept in the living room for gaming with him.

Xavier shrugs, unconcerned with the title, he hasn't held it after all for a very long time, "I'm just Xavier."

The doctor rubs his eyes again, hesitating on the edge of just walking out. If it weren't for the figure in the other room, sleeping through the pain. This time he looks at Sylus, who is leaning back in a chair like a king, arms crossed and head tilted back. "And you?"

"I'm just Sylus." The man teases, flashing canines that shouldn't be as sharp as they are. "I just happen to run the N109 Zone."

"Right. The natural enemy of the Hunter's Association, and the people who wanted the core in their heart."

"You can mistrust me if you like doctor, but kitten is in no danger from me."

"Hard to believe."

"Well, the best things often are." It sounds like a jest, but for a second the man's eyes soften. Looking for a second at the closed door before they sharpen into gems again, "But whether you believe it or not, I'm here for them."

The doctor looks at Xavier, who barely reacts, face downturned, buried in pillows, he can already tell what question is coming.

Don't you have anything to say?

Can he be trusted?

"Does it matter?" Xavier manages, his finger pointing at the little crow charm on the man's phone, "They trust him."

Zayne and Rafayel both look, then at their own phones. A tiny snowman and a little fish.

Xavier knows his own sports a little star.

Mishapen and messy, made with Tara on an outing you and her had gone on, eager to keep the other hunter company for things. Hungry for friendship.

Companionship.

Connection.

Rafayel groans, leaning back on his hands, legs stretching out, "Cutie makes all the worst friends."

Sylus scoffs, "Friends."

Agitation makes the fish glare, eyes narrowing, and this time the plushie flies at Sylus, who catches it in his EVOL with a laugh. Gently placing it down, so he doesn't damage something you value. "Stupid crow."

"Calm down fish, someone will think you're steamed and take a bite."

No one misses the small blush over the man's ears at Sylus' purr, which just makes the man laugh a little more.

"Well, if no one is leaving-" Xavier starts, yawns, and then forces himself to sit up a little to continue, "we should figure out what to do. Otherwise this will happen again."

Rafayel shrinks, "I've never seen cutie like that. They're always so…" his sigh carries the weight of years he can't share, and he shakes purple hair like he's trying to shed the memories, "strong."

"The strong can't always be strong." Sylus offers, turning a coin in his fingers again, staring off out the window.

Zayne hums his assent, "They need to go to physical therapy, pick themselves back up again. Adjust, as hard as it will be. I can attend their therapy sessions when available, moral support can make the difference between failure and success for some."

"I can help around the house, visit them. I'm just upstairs after all."

"They'll need to eat, and get out of the apartment. See people." Sylus adds, he pulls out his phone, typing a message to Luke and Kieran to prepare a replacement for the door. Sooner than possible.

"I suppose between us we can make sure this works."

"You want us to work together?"

Zayne sighs, "As much as the idea of asking a wanted man-"

Xavier laughs under his breath, but doesn't explain. He does think about the three wanted posters, however.

"for assistance, taking care of someone important to me, I would rather have all of our bases covered, and then to have a wider support system in place. Unless anyone has any objections?"

There's nothing, just a quiet accord between four people. Thinking about the room near them, full of something precious. Worth protecting.

"I suppose we've got a deal, doctor." Sylus nods, standing, "I'll be back in a little while to fix the door. Until then I'll move some things around so I'm more available."

Rafayel hops up, "I'll be right back, I'll grab my current project so I can work from here. Maybe some…" he looks about, "extra blankets."

While Xavier wants nothing more than to sleep, to sit at the door to guard it, to keep watch. The fridge is empty, the bandages have run low, and he wants to look around the area. Wary, on edge. Worrying that Ever have lurked too close.

So he pushes himself up, removing himself from pillows that smell of you, and heads to the door too, "Grocery shop." He offers, through another yawn.

As people filter out, Zayne leans back into the sofa, before rising and heading over to the bedroom. Quiet and careful, he checks on his favourite patient. Though he desperately wishes he didn't need to be your doctor. Didn't need to stitch up torn skin, bandage wounds. Watch you suffer. It tugs at his heart, watching you force yourself ahead.

Rafayel was right. You'd never shown anything other than strength to them. Fighting through injuries, being reckless if it meant protecting others. Taking on mission after mission. He thinks the only time you've relied on them, is when there's no fight to be had.

Relaxing in your personal time, as rare as it is. He's seen you injured, of course, and at your checkups for your heart. But you've always met those with jokes that belittle the seriousness of the situation. A readiness to make light of pain. He has never seen you crumble, hurting and wounded. In a way you don't just bounce back from, because you can still fight injured.

As he strokes your head, gentle and careful not to wake you, he is both aching and relieved. That you'd finally lowered part of your mask, but that it took such pain to do so.

They've at least owned a door for you to step through, easier if someone is waiting on the other side…

Even if the most wanted man on earth had broken it open…

That's going to take some getting used to.

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srslylini · 3 days ago

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hmmm I wish it was this easy but I fear we can know what the authors of media intended. That's half the fun of consuming media.

This point of yours reminds me an aweful lot of "art isn't political" (fyi I am not saying you think that, just that the point is awfully familiar). Yes we can know their intentions. Through media alone that becomes clear. Even clearer when we hear them talk about said media (and what they say is... something-)

When we consume media half of the fun IS theories. And while I agree with you that those theories don't mean that it has to be canon, to have a show mislead you is also not the way. Especially when a piece of media is already in motion, meaning they already set stuff up. The intentions of season 1 were clear, their message was shown to us and season 2 just didn't do anything with that.

Having expectations is not the same as wanting a piece of media to turn out exactly the way you want it to turn out, that is important to remember.

I just really dislike your "i haven't seen good criticism" what was that about "making assumptions"? You can't eat your cake and have it too.

Being angry with a piece of media doesn't mean anyone wanted it to turn it out exactly the way they wanted it to turn out, that is a gross misunderstanding. There are of course fans who think that, I am not saying there aren't but making a general assumption like this doesn't make you look any better.

to be fair my "get your take away from me" was more in a joke way I am sorry I didn't get it across this way. That is indeed on me.

Anyways I could also very much say "how could I still trust you after the points you make and made." In the end this is were we will land and I think that's not going to change.

"Caitlyns redemption arc isn't very good."

Maybe she doesn't have a redemption arc.

May be Arcane isn't about redemption.

May be Arcane is about flawed characters who are neither good nor bad.

May be Arcane is a show that shows us that good people can do horrible things and how our society and the people we have or don't have as support can shape that.

Good people can become horrible. Not because it is innate within them. But because of their life experiences.

#i also dislike the “you could have scrolled past this” yeah but why should i #especially when a point is to be made #discussion #arcane #arcane season 1 #arcane season 2 #arcane critical #“i hAtE tHe cRiTiCaL tAke” well that says a lot about you lmao #anyways #caitlyn kiramman #vi

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wdcbox · 1 day ago

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escape⠀⠀⋆·˚ ༘ *⠀⠀lando norris.

pairing. lando norris x gn-platonic!reader.

word count. 1.3k.

summary. a night out to forget the past turns into a moment of healing, as you find unexpected support from a distant friend: lando.

warnings. mentions of depression, alcohol and ex-relationships.

ellis’ addition. once again, please send me some rqs pretty pretty please! hope you lot enjoy this one <3 dedicated to the lovelies @lechrts @therealplaguedoctor and @planetpedri ♡

the club was alive, a pulsing mass of energy that swallowed you whole. music thumped in your chest, a low bass that made the floor beneath your feet vibrate. neon lights painted streaks of pink and blue across the dark, smoky air, catching the glitter on your dress and making it shimmer. you were supposed to feel invincible tonight – this outing desperately needed as a form of a pick-me-up. you had promised yourself this was your moment to let go, to dance, to laugh, to forget.

the past few weeks had rolled on painfully slow as you became stuck in your head. you denied that you were depressed – saying this was one of your spouts of seasonal sadness – but none of your friends believed you. after all, they knew you more than you knew yourself – maybe even too much.

you let your body sway on the dance floor in a huddled circle with your friends, some 2000s club music working to drown out your thoughts. part of you felt free – alive again – as you moved your body to the beat. your worries started to float away in the wind, the slightest bit of intoxication overtaking you.

just as you began to relax, you saw him. dylan.

your breath caught in your throat, your heart freezing mid-beat. dylan was at the bar, casually leaning against it like he owned the place. his dark hair was slightly mussed, his leather jacket the same one he’d worn on your first date with him. he hadn’t changed. if anything, the months since your breakup had only made him more self-assured, more magnetic – and that made it worse.

with a deep sigh, you slowed your dancing, your cocktail trembling in your hand. a wave of nausea rolled through you, panic prickling at the edges of your mind. with a sharp turn, your eyes scanned the crowd for an escape. your friend julia had disappeared to the bathroom and maddison was near the entrance sizing up a man. you felt hopeless, but thats when your eyes found lando.

lando wasn’t dancing like the others. he stood on the edge of the dance floor, drink in hand, his easy smile lighting up as your gaze met with his. though It only faded the moment he saw the look on your face.

“hey,” lando spoke, stepping closer. his voice was warm, steady, cutting through the noise like a lifeline. “you okay?” his voice was a bit louder, giving you the ability to hear his words over the loud bass of the music.

you swallowed hard, your throat dry. you hated to be so vulnerable, so open to lando, but he was offering help that you desperately needed. you let out a sigh, motioning over your shoulder, “dylan’s here.” the words felt foreign on you tongue, like admitting them would somehow make it worse.

lando’s brows knitted together. he wasn’t completely familiar with what had happened between you and dylan, but he was aware the breakup was quite nasty. lando has heard stories from friends, yet he found himself out of the loop.

obviously, seeing your ex at a bar wasn’t the best thing that could happen, but lando itched to know what had happened. despite his slight cluelessness, the look on your face told him everything he needed to know: dylan was anything but a good guy.

“where?” lando questioned, his eyes beginning to scan the room. you tilted your head toward the bar, too afraid to turn and confirm what you’d seen. lando’s expression darkened as he followed your gaze, his normally relaxed features hardening.

“alright,” lando spoke, his voice low but resolute, “we’ll handle this. stay with me.” his voice was at a hum, his words still audible over the music. though you and lando hadn’t seen each other that much in recent times, he still managed to be such a caring person.

you let out a shaky sigh, your eyes locking on the brunette infront of you. you wanted to leave — to run away — but you knew it would somehow make you feel even worse than you already did. despite your thoughts, you croaked out, “maybe i should just leave—”

“absolutely not,” lando interrupted, his tone firm, “you’re not running from fun and you’re most certainly not running from him. he’s an asshole — just let lose and forget about it.”

before you could argue lando, be shifted closer, his broad frame a quiet shield between you and the rest of the club. the world narrowed to the two of you, lando’s steady presence anchoring you somehow.

“come on,” lando ushered, his hand brushing your elbow. it was a light touch, casual, but it sent a warmth up your arm that caught you off guard.

lando guided you through the crowd, his movements deliberate but unhurried, as though he were giving you time to breathe. the two of you wove through clusters of dancers, past couples laughing and swaying under the shifting lights. every so often, lando glanced over his shoulder to check on you, his eyes soft with concern.

“here,” lando spoke up once the two of you reached a quieter corner of the club. the neon glow barely reached this far, leaving the space shadowed and calm. lando leaned against the wall, his posture casual but his gaze alert, scanning the crowd.

you sank into a booth, your hands still gripping your glass like it might steady you somehow. “i hate that he can still do this to me,” you admitted, her voice barely audible over the distant thrum of music, “not matter how much i saw i’m over him — it’s like he still has this chokehold on me.”

lando slid into the booth across from you, his eyes locking onto yours. “it’s not about him. it’s about how bad he made you feel. dylan made you feel like shit and he deserves to feel like shit in return — stay here with me, ok? show him how happy you are and make him regret ever breaking your heart.”

lando’s words settled over you, quiet but firm, like a vow. you had never heard lando speak like that, but part of you found yourself inspired by his words. you felt your chest loosen, the tight coil of panic inside of you beginning to unwind.

“yknow, for a race car driver — i feel like you always know what to say,” you teased, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. lando shrugged, a small grin breaking through his seriousness, “it’s apart of my charm. plus — i have to know how to answer interviewers stupid ass questions.”

you laughed softly, the sound surprising you. for the first time in weeks, you sort of felt alive again. despite that fact your ex stood feet away from you, you couldn’t help but feel relaxed. the world kept spinning and your smile grew more.

for the next hour, the two of you lingered in the shadows. lando kept you entertained with stories and dry humor, his presence so steady it felt like the eye of a storm. he didn’t push you to go back out onto the dance floor, didn’t force you to pretend you were fine. he just stayed, his focus entirely on you, like nothing else in the world mattered. and slowly, it started to feel true.

when you finally worked up the courage to glance toward the bar, dylan was gone. you didn’t know when he’d left, and for the first time, she realized she didn’t care.

“thanks for this,” you spoke, your voice soft as you showed your gratitude towards the boy. lando leaned closer, his face shadowed but warm under the dim light, “anytime.”

it wasn’t much, just a word, a look, a fleeting moment. but it was enough to make you feel like yourself again. and for now, that was all you needed.

#ellis' works #lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 2 days ago

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Whumpuary 2025 3 & 21

Prompt 3: Black eye

Prompt 21: Bruises

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to violence

“Wanna bring ‘em back an’ kill ‘em all over again.”

Your head was turned this way and that as if the bruising and lacerations were moving about upon the completion of each inspection. Your face felt swollen with its own heartbeat, the smile you tried to give him pulling the taut skin to a subtle burn.

“They’re dead, Daryl.” You brought a hand to his cheek, brushing your fingers back to card through his hair. There was no hiding the tremble in your arm. A part of you was still tied to the chair and suffering beneath the onslaught of the reaper’s fists. “I’m okay now.”

“Don’t look okay.” Your archer muttered. He pulled on the shoulder of your shirt, his eyes flitting back and forth to examine the bruising that began at your collarbone. With a sigh, he stood, catching your wrist to kiss your palm during his ascent.

“I didn’t tell them anything.” You sniffed, leaning forward to begin levering yourself upright as well. Two large hands caught beneath your arms and gently pulled, allowing you to stand on your own with an arm hovering just a hair’s breadth from the small of your back.

“Know ya didn’t.”

Glancing toward him, he faced you at the same time, the corner of his mouth lifted. Even with all the turmoil surrounding him, he smiled a lot more these days. You’d like to think you had a lot to do with that.

“Can we go home now? I think I need a nap.”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, we can go home.” He lifted the arm that was behind you to hug around your shoulders. “Nap’s gonna hafta wait til we know ya didn’t crack up your noggin’.”

“You would call it a noggin’.” You teased while allowing him to guide you past the others, engaged in their own conversations.

“Dome. Noodle. Gourd.” His hold tightened ever so slightly. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling again.

“Skull?” You laughed, resting your aching head against his shoulder as the two of you walked. Climbing onto the wagon seat, you winced, your entire body throbbing. Once Daryl was perched at your side, the pain was forgotten. One hand held the reins as he clicked his tongue to spur the horses into motion, his other hand gently folding around yours.

The two of you headed back to Alexandria, but really, you were already home.

#whumpuary2025 #whumpuaryno3 #black eye #whumpuaryno21 #bruises #allusions to violence #murda writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead

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blueskittlesart · 2 days ago

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One of my favourite era of the wild headcanons is that when Link pulled the master sword, he saw flashes of all his previous lives (if you take the era of the wild taking place much later in the timeline at face value lol). Not enough to inherit their memories, mind you, just enough that he was cognizant of his role in the world and that significantly changed his personality from bubbly kid to stoic soldier. Did you have any thoughts on this? I love your botw takes :)

boy do i have a comic for you

ok truthfully i have mixed feelings about this. that comic was an au where the major change is that link is specifically aware of the cycle from a young age, which is the inciting event for alterations to the story. i think that link doesn't necessarily NEED to be aware of the cycle for his actions to make sense. the intense pressure is already there no matter what. his position as the one single soldier who has the power to seal calamity ganon means that his entire life will, no matter what, culminate in him either dying or becoming an untouchable, mythical hero. that alone is, imo, enough to make any kid freak out a little bit. And from a writing standpoint, a lot of the conflict in botw exists specifically due to a LACK of knowledge about what the prophecy and calamity actually are and why the motions they're going through exist in the first place, so i think it's actually kind of out of place in the rest of the story to make link the only exception to this. in canon, his own shortcomings in this regard are a source of anxiety for him, too--he can't hear the voice of the sword, he doesn't have any idea what to expect when the calamity strikes, etc etc. in rare moments of leisure he immediately pulls out that sword and starts swinging it around, because what else can he do but train harder? He has no idea what to expect, so he has to be strong enough to face anything. TLDR i don't think he knew any more than anyone else--if he did, he might have had some idea of how to effectively stop the calamity the first time around.

#hello coliseum au fans. no i will not be continuing it <3 #asks

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weewookinard · 3 days ago

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I know you said fluffy, this is more smutty, but still happy I promise.

We all know Buck and Tommy are masc4masc, horny4horny, freak4freak, but the reason why they're each other's best ever sexual experience is because they're also goofy4goofy.

Both big beefy firefighters, they're used to being expected to act a certain way, to play a certain role in a sexual relation. They're no strangers to kinks either. What's precious about them is that they feel safe enough to enjoy sex with one another for what it is, without any pressure to preform, and sometimes it means laughing and goofing off mid-act.

Buck is lying on his back in bed, Tommy is bouncing up and down on his cock with near perfect cadence. While Buck enjoys being sloppy, getting lost in the feelings when he bottoms, Tommy never struggles to maintain control when he does, like an expert lap dancer.

Tommy's leaking cock gentle slaps onto Buck's stomach every time their bodies meet. This erotic picture almost makes Buck come on the spot, but then Tommy introduces some circling motion to his hip movement, Buck can't help but close his eyes and throw his head back at the new sensation.

When Buck opens his eyes, he stares at Tommy's cock for a bit, then suddenly turns his head to the side and covers his own face with his hands. Tommy gets a little worried seeing Buck's shoulders shaking, but he merely slows down his pace. They've both seen each other cry during sex before, it's not a big deal, sometimes it gets emotion or it's just hormones doing weird things after a magnificent orgasm.

"You okay, Evan? Want me to stop?" Tommy asks in concern.

"No, don't stop. It's... it's fine," Buck finally takes his hands off his face. While he does have tears in his eyes, he's not sobbing, he's laughing so hard that he tears up.

"What's going on?"

Buck points at Tommy's dick, now spinning around in circles, "it's a... hahaha... it's a helicopter."

Tommy looks down, and yeah, it is kind of funny.

"Wait wait wait, get off, I want to try it myself," Buck pulls out and flips them around so that Tommy is on his back this time.

It takes Buck a few minutes to get the hang of the spin, but he's so proud of himself when he finally gets it.

"Look, Tommy, I'm the pilot now!" Buck's chuckle is soon cut short by a moan, "ahh... wow, this actually feels amazing."

"Don't stop, baby. Keep it in the air."

in France we call this hélicobite and i think that's beautiful 🥲🥲

but for real, i am a fan of this Cee!! my husband and i we laugh a lot when we have sex and sex should be fun and relaxing!

which might not have been the case for Tommy before he met Evan! Sex is supposed to be sexy for a strong man like him, almost animalistic, and shit, and at first he believed it too because he only knew gay sex through porn. what he has with Evan? you don't find it (in porn movies) son, you make it (happily, messily, perfectly ❤️)

#911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #smut #911 headcanons

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princesitangelita · 14 hours ago

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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ jim refuses to leave the office without you after your lame boyfriend forgets to pick you up from work.. again..

warnings: just a little bit of angst, jim is jealous and frustrated, comfort (?), slight fluff, cheating (but not really???)

a/n: ditzy!reader only has a boyfriend in this fic alone, not as part of her entire !reader lore <3 send in jim req’s!

“byeee!” you adjusted the pink scarf around your neck as phyllis and bob vance from ‘vance refrigeration’ drove away, both of them waving at you with wide smiles plastered on their faces. god, it was cold out here. “come on, roy..” you whispered to yourself, poking your head out to look at the entrance of the parking lot. small clouds formed with each breath you exhaled, the cold pennsylvania air nipping at the skin of your cheeks and the tip of your nose. you watched as everyone filed out of the building one by one, your heart sinking to your stomach as the sun set further down the horizon.

sighing out in frustration, you scrambled through your purse for your phone, the bag slipping from your fingers before the contents tumbled out onto the concrete. you laughed to yourself, just thinking about how much more embarrassing can this get. your boyfriend had obviously forgotten all about picking you up for the second time this week, your favorite lipglosses are rolling down the pavement, the tubes only getting further out of arm’s reach, and your skirt is far too tight for you to pick up your stuff without looking awkward and frazzled.

“this is the worst..” you speed walked down the parking lot, your heels clicking against the walkway until jim came out, wasting no time in jogging over. “hey, what are you still doing here?” he followed your line of vision, quickly getting your stuff off of the ground before towering over you. your cheeks always heated at the height difference between you two, a hint of a smile playing on jim’s lips when he saw the flustered expression on your pretty face. “n-no reason! uhm, something came up with roy, so i’m—” before you could finish whatever lie was going to slip from your tongue, he interrupted you.

“again? does he know it’s like twenty degrees out here?”

jim was irritated to say the least— but not with you. never at you. he took off his coat, draping it over your shoulders before guiding you back inside. “wait here while i go warm up the car real quick, alright?” he didn’t give you time to object, leaving you in the warm lobby as he stepped out in nothing but a button up. deciding to dial roy one more time, you rolled your eyes when the call went straight to voicemail. you should’ve known it wouldn’t have gone through. throwing the damned thing back in your purse, you didn’t wait longer than five minutes before jim pulled up right out front.

he opened the door for you, his face bright red from the cold as he motioned for you to come outside. “jim, you really don’t have to do this! i was just about to go to the bus stop.” you stayed seated, shrugging off his coat as he shook his head. “and let you sit out in this weather? absolutely not.” he almost sounded offended, his tall figure coming inside once again to scoop you up in his arms. “really, jim, it wouldn’t be the first time, i—” opening the passenger door, he sat you down gently, cutting you off before you could make up a ridiculous excuse for your boyfriend who clearly didn’t care if you froze halfway to death.

when jim was in his seat, he couldn’t help but squeeze the steering wheel with an unforgiving grip. “i’m sure roy got caught up with something, it’s fine, truly!” why were you still trying to defend him? roy was the last person who deserved to be with you. the guy doesn’t even send you work flowers for christ’s sake! he blatantly checks out other girls in front of you, which jim could never wrap his head around because to him you were the only person who existed inside of a room, he never let you go out with your work buddies, and he sure as hell never complimented you.. at least not in the way you should be getting complimented.

it took a lot to get jim upset, but seeing the way your smile falters when roy dismisses something you say, or the way the sparkle in your eyes dim when he doesn’t react to something new about you. your hair, for example. you had got it done, the style suiting you perfectly, making you look so cute and pretty, all just for roy to not even acknowledge your new ‘do. he remembered you having to excuse yourself to the ladies room and seeing your glossy eyes avoid everyone’s gaze as you zoned out of the conversation roy was so focused on rambling about once you came back.

so bad, jim just wanted to ask what on earth you saw in him. of course, he wouldn’t do that, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wrack his brain pretty often for an answer. “i’m sure he got busy,” jim agreed, not wanting to push the situation, “do you think he’s home?” you blinked. he definitely had to be at home. “no.” you lied, meeting jim’s eyes, “why?” please ask me out, please ask me out, you repeated in your head. “ah, well, i don’t know about you, but i can really go for a hot chocolate from retro’s..” retros. that was your usual spot for whenever jim treated you to lunch.. which was almost everyday.

please say yes, please say yes, he pleaded silently as a sudden smile made its way to your lips. “with jumbo marshmallows and a croissant?” jim chuckled. “yeah, whatever you want.”

#❤︎₊ ⊹ works #₊˚⊹♡ ditzy!reader #₊˚⊹♡ jim halpert #the office #the office fanfiction #the office imagine #the office smut #the office x reader #jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #jim halpert fanfiction #jim halpert smut #jim halpert imagine

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sc0tters · 14 hours ago

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Best - Jack Hughes

summary: the time has come for you to return to New Jersey, does seeing Jack make you fall into old ways or do you finally stay strong?

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual relationships but nothing overly explicit.

word count: 3.69k

authors note: first off happy 2025! this is our first fic of the year and we have waited way to long for this part to come out but I seriously think the wait was worth it all in the end. I was going to give us a good ending but then I heard Best by Gracie Abrams and you guys said we could do the angst soo… if it’s not clear, this is a sequel (that I throughly enjoyed writing) but you don’t have to ready part one, it’s just that this one will make a lot more sense if you did first.

part one

This was meant to be a trip you were excited for.

Christmas and New Years in Jersey with Luke at your side. It had been planned since you missed your annual trip to the lake house after your parents surprised you with a much needed summer in Europe.

Just as you should have predicted things ran cold with Jack the moment you the garden state last time round. So now as you stood in Newark airport waiting for Luke to show up you had to force a smile on your face, as the pit in your stomach grew.

Nerves coursed through your veins as you hated that Jack still got to have an effect of you.

This was meant to be a trip that you could use to just catch up with your best friend, but still you stood there forced to have his older brother be the one who was on your mind.

All you were left with was the memories, that you couldn’t seem to part with “guess who?” Your thought was broken as hands covered your eyes “are you that one devils defender?” You grinned knowing that it was Luke who stood behind you.

His shitty attempt of a British accent made you laugh “that one devils defender?” Luke scoffed as he dropped his hands allowing you to turn to face him “Lukey!” You squealed pulling him into a hug.

The boy smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, feeling happy that you were back there with him. Luke had seen you in Detroit over the last two months but this was the first time you both got to spend actual time together since February.

Luke’s eyes scanned your face to see how much you had changed recently, your eyes didn’t seem to shine as bright as they once did. He knew that something was up with you, it would have taken a fool to not.

As the man who knew you like the back of his hand Luke knew that you’d also only tell him once you were ready. He just really hoped that what ever seemed to drag you down, would be set free before it was too late “I’ve missed you.” Your voice was soft as you ran your fingers through the curls you used to help him take care of in your dorm.

He was quick to grab your suitcase from you “we’ve got so much to talk about!” He confessed motioning to you to follow him to his car.

The ride was long but felt short in time as the two of you didn’t shut up, catching up on all things school, hockey, and life itself.

Jack had come back from a workout as the two of you arrived, and you swore that the universe was out to get you. The elevator doors opened on the gym floor and that’s where you were met with the middle Hughes brother.

He was sweaty as he had a towel that sat in his shoulders “didn’t think you were gonna be here yet.” Jack stepped into the elevator as you shrugged “flight got in early.” You tried to pay no mind to the fact that your body felt on fire as his eyes practically burnt into your soul.

Luke sucked at his teeth “it’s good because Jacky here got us into hosting a party tomorrow.” He mumbled sending his brother a glare “Jack eh?” You teased wanting to let out a laugh.

Jack smirked as he looked at you “you want to go on a booze run with me or get snacks?” You didn’t even need to answer as Luke cut you off “you want to get a partner for this prep then you find your own best friend.” He pointed out wrapping his arm around you.

The middle Hughes boy let his lips form a pout “and here I was thinking we’d share her.” The words made you cough as the elevator doors opened to their apartment floor.

Jack laughed “good to see ya Blossom.” The nickname rolled off of his tongue as he walked out first.

The next twenty four hours you were able to avoid Jack for the most part as Luke wanted to show you all the parts of the city that he had grown to love since you had last been. And the fact that he still shopped like a teenage boy helped, as you were having to explain to Luke what a party really needed.

Your luck ran out as Luke got drunk whilst the continued on. Jack clearly knew what he was doing when he bough Luke’s favourite shooter, as the youngest Hughes boy currently stood practically jumping off the walls.

Some of their teammates knew of you from your last time being there and how Luke never seemed to shut up about you. Nico had already been over to say hello again as you had gotten yourself a drink “Y’know I’ve got to get back to my sister but I think you should go see what Jack wants.” Nico motioned in the direction of his teammate.

Jack looked at you as you nodded “thanks for the heads up.” you mumbled seeing the American a confused look as he watched you see if there was someone behind you.

You tried to avoid him but you felt as if you were trapped as Jack seemed to be where ever you turned after that. Every time you went to a different part of the apartment he was talking to a different person. But of course his eyes never seemed to leave yours.

So as you watched this blonde girl run her fingers over his shirt you finally felt sick, rather than watching the scene continue on. You instead opted to chug the remainder of the whiskey in your cup, before you headed to the bathroom hoping that a slash of cold water would do the trick.

Your face felt warm as the sound of water running in the faucet trickled in your ears “pull yourself together.” You sighed resting over the counter as the door opened “can’t you see this is busy-” you grumbled cutting yourself off as you locked eyes with Jack.

He sent you a glare “you know you’ve got a funny way of getting all mad at me when I go talk to someone.” Jack let out a cruel laugh “ain’t like you’re fucking that Canadian or somethin’.” He added making you scoff.

You had started a solid relationship with Ethan right as the summer started as you both seemed to bond over heartbreak. His girlfriend had dumped him and as everyone celebrated the end of the school year, you both found each other in bed needing the company and the release.

Before you knew it, those meet-ups became weekly things. You needed a break from Jack and that seemed to be the one thing that really did calm your mind, even if it was only for that night.

But as Jack stood in front of you, you couldn’t believe that he got mad “you keeping tabs on me or some shit?” you laughed almost wondering if someone was playing some sick prank on you.

He still stood tall as he rolled his eyes “don’t play dumb with me.” He muttered letting a loose strand of your hair get caught between his fingers.

His touch made your body feel on fire “and it’s hard to not know when Luke won’t seem to shut up about it.” Jack added making you smirk “you jealous that he ain’t heard about you?” You asked tilting your head up to face him.

Jack stood there for a moment as he thought about it “you think I’m gonna be jealous of a little college fuck toy?” He laughed almost taunting you “know only I fuck you the best.” The middle Hughes boy knew he was right as you pushed your thighs together trying to dispose of the heat that built up in them.

You shook your head “not anymore.” Your lips pursed together as you shook your head.

Jack noticed how you were still wearing that same perfume of yours that drove him wild “got a long time here.” You still had four days left there and if your trip was going to end like the last one, he knew you’d end up in his bed at least once.

But in that bathroom you tried to remain strong “you wanna act like you don’t fuck me and leave me?” You scoffed wanting to honestly hit him in that moment.

You pressed your pointer finger against his chest “like I’m not just the same as every other girl that you fuck and forget about as if I’m nothing.” Your voice broke as you almost felt your emotions making you feel nauseous.

He could read the pain in your face “don’t say that.” He clicked his tongue as he reached for your arm “know you’re my special girl.” The title was meant to fill you with joy and praise, and it would have if this was February.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shook your head “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice and I’m the fucking idiot.” You sucked at your teeth watching him remain silent.

There was so much anger in your body “I can’t believe I actually let you fuck me.” You spat turning around to finally leave.

The door to the bathroom whipped as you were faced with Luke “you fucked my best friend?” He scoffed as he looked over you and towards his brother.

His eyes traveled down to yours as he frowned “I’ve got to go.” You mumbled pushing past him as your cheeks turned red, flushed with embarrassment as the boy’s teammates and their partners eyes stuck on you.

You went through the crowed as you grabbed your scarf “I can’t believe you!” Was the last thing you heard before you let the door shut behind you, desperate to be as far away from there as possible.

But the first thing you needed was a drink and a strong one.

It had been hours since what you called your catastrophic meltdown in the Hughes apartment, and Luke still refused to listen to a word that Jack said “she’ll be okay Luke.” His voice broke the silence as the younger Hughes snapped his head in his brother’s direction.

Luke chewed at the inside of his cheek “she’s a smart kid.” Jack added finally breaking his younger brother “you don’t think I already know that?” The defenseman scoffed as he threw his cloth onto the table.

It was rare that he got this angry, but tonight Jack pushed his past his limits “she’s my best friend and you just had to go and fuck her?” Luke felt tears form in his eyes as the betrayal stood in front of him “and for what? To make her life hell and make me think that I did something to make her hate me?” Your avoidance of being in the same place as Jack finally all made sense. You weren’t avoiding Luke but rather the pain his brother managed to so easily inflict on you without a second thought.

The middle Hughes boy shook his head as he let out a sigh “you think I wanted to walk away from her?” Jack sucked at his teeth as he let his eyes squint into a harsh line “you don’t think that I spend most nights fucking wishing she wasn’t your best friend so that this wouldn’t have been so complicated.” Those words made Luke ball his hand into a fist.

He felt his heart pound in his ears as he grew irritated “how is you screwing her and leaving complicated?” Luke’s voice raised as both boys did little to care about what their neighbours would think.

Jack knew he couldn’t really say it, even if there was a truth that made him feel trapped “she deserves so much better than you.” Luke spat letting his words hit his brother like bullets.

The room felt claustrophobic as the middle Hughes boy tried to ignore that he agreed “you’re right.” Jack sighed making Luke freeze as his eyebrows raised.

He chewed at the inside of his cheek “I love her but I couldn’t be the reason you two stopped being friends.” His confession lingered in the air as Luke realised that his brother was being truthful, even if it was as ironic as it seemed.

But Luke didn’t get a chance to offer some form of a rebuttal as the echo of something falling onto the wooden floor of the living room. There you stood with now tear stained cheeks “I forgot my wallet.” You announced holding the red purse in your hand with your eyes widened.

Jack felt his throat go dry, as it was clear that you had been there to hear what he had said. He wanted to reach out for you but instead Luke beat him to it “we should talk.” Luke didn’t give either of you a chance to respond as he pulled you out of the apartment.

Snow sat on the windowsill of the hotel room as Luke joined you on the bed after what felt like the quietest uber ride of your life.

You hadn’t stopped fidgeting as never really thought that you’d have to tell Luke about this part of your life “I’m so sorry Luke.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you expected him to yell, scream, even just be disappointed in you.

But instead the boy clicked his tongue to break his silence “do you love him?” Luke knew that you had always had some degree of a crush on his older brother. Yet he never assumed it would have been something reciprocated or even acted upon.

The question lingered in your mind as you couldn’t find the right words to explain yourself to him “I did but I don’t know how I could like him when he has hurt me twice now.” You fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you let your eyes stare at your knee.

Your answer made Luke frown as you too were processing what Jack had confessed “and it’s for the best that nothing does happen.” You added, not sure if you were telling yourself that too or just the boy in front of you.

Luke placed his hand on yours “you know that it’s okay to still want him.” He sighed knowing how his brother could be and the love you held for him “I just wish you had told me.” His words made you let out a soft laugh.

A tear slid down your cheek as you cocked your head “that I was fucking your brother or that I liked him?” The words made him erupt into laughter that made yours follow shortly after.

He shook his head as he pulled you into an awkward hug as you still sat cross legged “I just missed you is all.” Luke had stayed up more nights than he could count over the last year as he tried to figure out what had happened to you.

You wanted to believe that everything would be fine between the two of you, that it’d all go back to some sense of normal. But you knew deep down that it would never be the case. Because as you lay there talking yourself to sleep as Luke refused to let you go, part of you wished that it was Jack that held you.

Sure you got your best friend back to the greed you held caused you to want the middle Hughes boy now more than ever. Luke had seen you through your highs and lows so you almost guessed that there was now a silent expectation that he’d always show up for you. And that was it, Luke was always going to show up for you.

It should have been enough, and you really did want it to be that way.

Luke let out a quiet ‘mhm’ as he squeezed your side nestling against you “I just wish things never had to change.” You sighed letting your head rest on his chest as the sound of his heart beat soothed you to sleep.

On the other side of the city, Jack lay there as he struggled to sleep. Thoughts of you plagued his mind, as he too wanted to be selfish. You being in his life as merely Luke’s best friend should have been enough.

The boundary that the title drew should never have been broken. But Jack was so desperate to have you in more of his life than just during the summer or when you’d visit Luke.

It seemed that up until tonight Jack didn’t know how to put what he felt into words and now that he had told Luke the truth, Jack had opened the faucet of emotions that couldn’t be turned off.

So as he lay staring at the alarm clock that sat on to his bedside table, Jack couldn’t help but think about what it was like to have you beside him. The thought of your imprint in his bed was like a drug as his hand gripped the empty side of his bed.

Silence consumed him as he shut his eyes, praying that he hadn’t waited until it was too late.

You and Luke had managed to avoid Jack and the apartment for the rest of your trip “you sure you want to do this?” Luke’s question lingered on your mind as you stared at the front door “if I don’t then I’m worse than him.” You wouldn’t have assumed that the pain you experienced would ever have been felt by Jack.

But still that didn’t help your hands from clamming up as the door opened. Jack paused the tv as he heard the noise, making his head whip around.

His eyes landed on you and it was clear he hadn’t properly slept in days “hey.” His voice was soft as his gaze fell onto his younger brother “I’ll go get the car ready.” Luke offered taking your suitcase with him as he left the two of you alone.

You fiddled with the ring on your finger as the middle Hughes brother walked up to you “I’m sorry.” Jack cleared his throat as he stopped in front of you.

He ran his fingers through his hair hoping you knew what to say back “I’m leaving.” You admitted as your mouth felt dry.

Nerves rocked your body as he shook his head “can we talk about what happened?” He pleaded as he felt as if his throat constricted. The boy reached for you as you pulled away, shaking your head no.

It took all of you to not break “we just hurt each other.” You pointed out knowing that your heart couldn’t take one more time of Jack walking out on you.

His words meant nothing if his actions didn’t fulfil them and right now, you weren’t ready to just take that chance “I love you.” If you didn’t know any better you would have sworn it sounded as if he was begging you to just say it back to him.

Your voice broke as you saw how his eyes were full of pain “you hurt me Jack, you don’t love me.” Jack never knew of your nights in your dorm as you sat there in tears wishing that Jack could hold even an ounce of the love you held for him.

He shook his head wanting to wipe away the tears from your cheeks “I never meant to do that.” Of course Jack never did mean to but it seemed as if he just couldn’t help it. It now seemed as if it was easier to hurt you than call you his.

The two of you cried as Jack gripped your hands in his not wanting to hear you say what he thought was coming “if you love me Jack.” You cut yourself off as you sniffled.

It made his heart break as he squeezed your hand “I’m so in love with you.” He confessed making you shake your head “you need to let me go.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you nodded.

Time felt as it is slowed as the boy dropped your hands whilst he froze “and if things are different down the line maybe we can try again.” The offer almost felt like a shitty taunt, that if Jack hadn’t fucked up you could have been his now.

He wanted to fight you on this, he really did “I’ll see you in the summer.” You knew you were going to be there and that was your personal wound. Memories would have to be made that would try to cover those of Jack and that night that started this all.

Your thumb felt rough against his cheek as you wiped away a tear of his “don’t do this.” He pleaded with you wanted to do anything to make you change your mind “goodbye Jack.” You gave him a soft nod as you saw Luke stood by the door with his keys in his hand.

It took all your strength to not go turn around and run into Jacks arms as you walked out of the door.

Because the truth was that, you were still convincing yourself that you had done the best thing for yourself.

Even if you were convinced that in that moment you lost the love of your life.

So as you forced yourself back into work and school when you got back to Michigan, it seemed that life for Jack continued on too. Yet as you trying to forget about him, rumours spread about there being a lucky lady in Jacks life.

This was struck your heart as you truthfully believed that you had really made the right choice, and that you were so stupid to believe he could have ever wanted you. So with Jack you hadn’t really lost him.

Because after all, you can’t lose something you never really had.

#jack Hughes imagines #jack Hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #nhl one shot #hockey oneshots #hockey imagines #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #amber writes fics

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evervigilantnightshade · 1 day ago

Text

Guarded - Part 5

Reader is stubborn, sassy, and has a past filled with trauma. Joel new to Jackson is dealing with his past and is struggling to deal with his new life. They meet and can't stand each other, yet there's something under all their banter neither can deny.

Reader x Joel Miller

MDNI

Warnings: ALL THE SMUT. Edging. Oral male.

Joel looked over at Y/N sitting across from him on the couch, sipping her whiskey, her face still white from their conversation about the fireflies. He wanted to lighten the mood again so he decided to toss a joke her way.

“You know, you haven’t pissed me off in about four hours. I’m starting to feel like you actually like me and you’ve just been tryin to hide it.”

Joel knew she was the most comfortable when they were going at each other.

She looked at him though with a flirty smile and slowly lifted her glass to her lips, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

“You wish.” Her voice was low and sultry.

“Jesus darlin.” He groaned and downed his whisky, his mouth suddenly going dry. “What’d I tell you about that?”

“Awe Miller did I make your tummy tingly”

“Made something tingle.” He muttered but she heard him and chuckled

“Fuck, how’re you going to make it through four days of this?”

“Probably have to spend some alone time in the woods.”

She laughed and downed the rest of her whisky.

“I mean you don’t have to go in the woods. I’d be fine with you doing what you need to do right here. I told you already, it’d be hot.”

Was she really doing this? Was she really going to push this to see where it goes? Fuck yes she was.

“Is that right?”

Joel shifted so he was closer to her, his hand resting on her knee.

“Who said anything about touching me?” She moved her knee and brought her foot up, placing it on his chest, pushing him back lightly.

Yes she planned on fucking Joel eventually, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

“You’re a brat you know that?” He rested his one arm on the back of the couch while his other hand gripped her calf.

“I mean if it took you this long to figure that out…”

“Your mouth just doesn’t stop does it?” His hand now moved up to the back of her knee.

“Sometimes.” She licked her lips and then bit her bottom lip causing him to groan.

She pulled back from him completely and grabbed the bottle of whisky, pouring herself another drink. She then sat back on the couch with her feet tucked under her. She took a large sip of her drink and put down the glass before she turned to him and put her arm on the back of the couch, mirroring him, their hands barely touching.

“Show me.”

“Show you what sweetheart?” He looked at her like he was ready to pounce on her.

“Show me how badly you want this.”

He moved to close the gap between them but she put her hand on his chest pushing him back. He grunted in annoyance but she shook her head.

“I said show me.”

“I was showing you.” He ran his hand through his hair not understanding what she wanted.

“You know it’s no fun if I have to spell it out for you. I want to see how hard just the thought of me makes you.”

Joel’s eyes darkened understanding what she was asking. He undid the button of his pants and pulled himself out and she brought her thumb up to her mouth biting it lightly as she smiled.

“Do you see now? Do you see what you do to me?” He asked as he gripped the base of his cock and squeezed.

“Have you thought about this a lot this week? Have you laid in your bed with your hand on your cock thinking about all the things you want to do to me?”

Joel nodded and his hand lightly stroked himself up and down. She shifted slightly, digging her heel into her sex, trying to provide some relief. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

“What have you thought about doing to me?”

“Thought about that mouth of yours wrapped around my cock.”

He began stroking freely now in a constant motion.

“What else?” Her hand began rubbing up and down her thigh as she watched him.

“Thought about my mouth on you. My head between your legs as your back arches off the mattress.”

His head tilted back and he let out a soft moan.

“You going to make me cum with your mouth Joel?”

“Fuck,” He grunted and his hips jutted forward his hand gripping tightly. “Love when you say my name.”

“I know, baby.”

“Thought about having you under me, calling my name as I fill you with my cock.”

At this point she was just frustrating herself. She stood up and pushed the coffee table back so she could sit on her knees in front of him. While he shifted so his feet were now on the ground facing her she quickly removed her chain whispering an apology and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. She then looked up to see Joel looking down at her with his hand still on his cock. She wished she could take a picture because fuck he looked good.

She reached up and grabbed his pants and he lifted his hips so she could pull them off. She then sat up and placed her hands on his knees.

“Alright baby, I need you to listen closely ok?”

He nodded his head, his eyes heavy with lust.

“You’re going to put your arms on the back of that couch there and you’re going to keep them there. No touching.”

“I wanna touch you.” His voice was thick and needy.

“You remember what I told you at your house. I’m in charge, I made the rules and you agreed to obey. So you’re going to be a good boy and obey me now.”

He paused for a moment, this was uncharted territory for him. He was the one who was always in control. Especially in the bedroom. However the way she was looking up at him now and the thought of relenting all control to her made his cock twitch so he nodded as he put his arms where she directed..

“Good boy. Your second rule is you don’t cum unless I tell you too. So if you’re getting close you better tell me. Understood?”

Joel nodded again and huffed out a breath through his nose.

“Alright, the moment your arms leave that couch I stop. And if you cum without my permission I won’t let you cum for a week.”

He was surprised at how turned on he was right now. She reached out and grabbed his cock, moving her hand slowly up and down, her other hand reached up and she swiped her thumb across the precum spilling out of the head, then she put her thumb in her mouth and hummed.

His head fell back but immediately snapped back up when he felt her tongue on the base of his cock as she licked him root to tip before inserting him into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around him before she slid her mouth down so far he felt himself hit her throat.

“Fuck Y/N” He called out and she moaned around him.

With one hand pumping the base, the other wrapped around his balls and her mouth pumping him over and over he felt like he was in heaven. He let his head fall back, concentrating on every single sensation he was feeling,

“God I knew your mouth would feel good baby. So good.”

Soft moans started leaving his mouth. His orgasm started building in him, he felt his body tensing up and his moans became louder and more erratic. When his balls pulled up he told her he was so close to cumming.

Instantly she pulled off of him everywhere, her hands landing on his thighs squeezing them tightly. He grunted out in annoyance and glared at her.

“What are you playin at?”

She smirked up at him and stopped squeezing his thighs instead now running her fingers up and down them.

“Come on baby, did you really think I wasn’t going to drive you just as crazy doing this as I do every other time we’re around each other?”

He frowned but she started running her fingers up over his stomach under his shirt and he started to relax. Her hands then moved back down to his cock and started stroking. Her mouth was on him instantly and she resumed her pace, bringing him closer again, pushing him further down her throat this time. He started feeling that familiar tingle and as much as he wanted to keep his mouth shut and not tell her for fear of her stopping, he grunted that he was close.

Again she stopped and grabbed his thighs and he swore in frustration. He was panting and his eyes were so dark they were practically black. He almost pushed himself off the couch to get up but she put her hand on his chest and then grabbed his balls, massaging them in her hand softly.

“Darlin I’m 56 years you keep doing that I’m going to lose it… oh oh. Nevermind.”

He relaxed back as she took him in her mouth again. And again when he came close she stopped. His head was spinning.

“Please.” He whined and she nodded.

“There you go baby. Beg me. Beg me to cum in my mouth.”

“Please let me cum. I want to cum in your mouth Y/N. Please.”

She smirked and then started again, this time harder and deeper than any other time. His orgasm came on fast except this time when he told her he was close she kept going. His vision blurred and he started pumping his hips in rhythm with her movement.

The biggest orgasm he’s ever felt was bubbling up to the surface and he felt it all over his body. His moans and movements became erratic and just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore he released in her mouth. His body shook and his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping the back of the couch. She continued licking and sucking up every drop of him as came down from it all and he just rested his head against the back of the couch, his eyes closed.

She got up and went to the kitchen to get a towel to wipe her face and then came back and cleaned up the remaining drool on Joel. He still had his head on the back of the couch so she leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“You did so good for me baby.” She sat down on the couch beside him and grabbed her whiskey. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

He looked up at her confused. She was still fully dressed and sitting there like it was over.

“What are you talking about?” He asked

“I’m hungry.” She repeated and got up and went to the kitchen. “Do you want to eat?”

“We’re not done here.” His voice stern.

“Yeah we are.” She said opening the cooler and pulling out a container. “Oh yum, mac and cheese.”

She started pulling out a pan and placed it onto the wood burning stove. Joel got up, and put his pants on before stomping into the kitchen.

“What the hell do you mean we’re done? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Oh I’m good, took care of myself while I was taking care of you.”

“Wait, you did?”

“Yeah, twice actually.”

“So that’s it, you give me a mind altering orgasm and then you want to what? Eat mac and cheese?”

“Exactly.” She smiled at him and then went and put the contents of the container in the pan.

“You are fucking impossible you know that?”

“I do.”

“I don’t understand you. You confuse the hell out of me.”

“Miller, what do you want? You want to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings in my ear? You and I both know I’m not going to be that kind of girl for you.”

“And what kind of girl will you be then?”

“That.” She said motioning to the couch. “That’s what I’ll be. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Joel’s body tensed. He knew they weren’t all of a sudden in love and were going to live happily ever after but what they just did meant something. He relinquished control to her, he’d never done that with anyone. But now she was standing there acting like it was no big deal.

He turned and grabbed his jacket off the chair heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” She asked her back to him as she focused on the pan in front of her.

“For a walk.”

He slipped on his boots and slammed the door behind him. As he walked he played out everything over and over again in his mind. He was angry. Angry with Y/N but more angry with himself. Tommy warned him. Told him if he did this it would leave him confused. Fuck why didn’t he listen to Tommy.

Y/N was the first person to make him feel this way. It was always him that was pulling away but she was and it drove him crazy. He wondered if it was just going years without contact or someone close to him but quickly shut that down when he realized he went longer than this before he met Tess.

Was it because she was a challenge? Was it because she was so much like him? Closed off and enigmatic. Fuck he didn’t know. All he knew is that his mind was a mess and he didn’t know what to do about it.

After walking for what felt like hours he walked back into the cabin and was met with silence. There was a plate of food wrapped up on the table and Y/N was nowhere to be found.

He slowly and quietly walked over to the open door of the bedroom and saw her fast asleep in the bed. The sight of her sleeping so soundly him even madder.

He turned and went to the kitchen table, grabbing the plate of food and putting it into the cooler. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the coffee table and laid himself down on the couch. He would have to resort to his old way of sleeping tonight, drinking until he passed out and forgot.

#joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader angst #joel tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us hbo #john price #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel miller x y/n

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ghostf1ux · 8 hours ago

Text

The Gotham River is Not Your Friend

Day 13: Hypothermia

Word Count: 5.6k

TW/CWs: Medical inaccuracies probably

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

So, here's the thing.

All things considered, Jason would not have still been here if it weren't for Tim, his replacement (so to speak, they've long since gotten past that), who insisted he needed their help. Which isn't to say he wouldn't have been here at all, he just wouldn't have been here for this long.

It was just a simple job. Black Mask was getting a weapons shipment, and Jason planned to yoink it for his own operation. It was only three trucks, nothing he can't handle on a good night, and tonight was a good night!

But then him and fucking East End showed up in a cloud of smoke and mirrors or whatever the saying is, and everything was plunged into chaos.

“I said I had this handled–!” Jason hisses into the comm, simultaneously taking careful shots at any Mask goons he can see from his place in the support beams of the bridge connected mid and lower Gotham together.

“Intel says they have more explosives and people than you were planning for, so B sent us to step in, just in case it was a trap!” Tim retorts. Jason rolls his eyes at the red and black whirl of motion that's working on the outskirts of the crowd, jumping down just in time to land on someone who was about to get the drop on Tim.

“I've dealt with a lot more in a much worse condition,” Jason snaps, not even looking over to nail someone in the kneecap with a rubber bullet. “I don't need your fucking help, so back off.”

Tim's face twists into something incredulous, gesturing around wildly with his staff. “Not even B would go into something like this without backup! It's too risky, there's too many variables–”

“Oh yeah, like your inability to cover your own ass–”

“Yes, yes, girls, you're both pretty, can you focus back in on the actual fight?” Stephanie cuts them both off over comms, a smirk evident in her voice at how both brothers snap their mouths shut. “I'd like to get home at a reasonable time tonight.”

“Shoulda picked a different job then,” Jason snarks, pointedly shoving Tim out of his way with one finger before jumping back into the fight. Tim scoffs obnoxiously, but doesn't comment further than that.

“Or maybe I should've picked different coworkers. Oh wait.”

Tim makes a noise of offense while Jason just grins. Their comms dissolve into occasional banter while they mow down the groups of Black Mask goons, splitting up to speed up the task.

This works great until Tim decides to antagonize the second truck, which just so happens to apparently have more people with bigger guns than all the others. Jason is quick to hop in to help him, but their moment of actual strategic thought makes them both wary of getting close too quickly. Unfortunately, some of the ones from the third truck are peeling off to sandwich them, so they're kind of out of options.

“Shit, Spoiler needs help, you got this, Hood?”

Jason ponders this while taking shots at the goons, just barely missing getting grazed simply because of the sheer quantity of bullets he has to dodge. “Yeah, I got it. Go save your girlfriend or whatever. I'm taking off after this, got plans, so don't expect me to stick around.”

“Ex!” Steph shouts indignantly, loud enough that he can heat it even without the comm. He snickers, ducking behind the nearest cover he can find to let them unload their bullets.

“Yeah, whatever, just tie them up when you're done,” Tim sighs.

“Overrated. I'll just make it so they can't walk. Way easier.”

Tim sighs tiredly again, his exhaustion showing through despite his small age. And yes, it is a small age, it doesn't matter that he's only two years younger than Jason.

Regardless, it's his turn to sigh when the goons are still firing. “Alright, fuck this,” Jason mutters under his breath, pulling out a grenade and flicking the pin away before lobbing it over their heads, directly under the truck. At the same time he hops the bit of concrete he'd been using as cover and rushes in while they're distracted, cutting through as many as he can get through with his knives.

It's at this moment the grenade goes off, and the words more explosives than you planned for echo in his mind.

At first, there's a wave of heat. Then there's a sense of whistling wind outside his ringing ears, and maybe he's in the air? His feet aren't touching anything, but he can't see so who really knows. Distantly, he tries to breathe, and registers that he can't.

Huh.

That… that's not good, is it?

It's a distant thought, one that flits around in his mind before dissipating into nothing.

There's something else.

He's missing something.

What is he missing–

Jason's mouth opens in a silent scream as he's enveloped in something cold– no, cold doesn't even begin to describe it. It's sharp, stabbing, like a million knives are driving into his skin at every angle, digging into every pore and shredding through his muscle until it can chip away at the bone underneath. Whatever breath he had managed to get is gone in an instant when his back hits the icy chill and suddenly he's surrounded by it on all sides, pressing in on him and suddenly everything is screaming at him–

Water.

Bridge.

Explosion.

Fuck.

Almost on autopilot, maybe something closer to instinct or desperate habit, Jason claws his way– up? Is he going up? He can't see, his vision is still filled with white spots and everything is so cold it just drags him down, down, down–

Hands churn relentlessly through the way with a force that borders on impressive. He's insistent in his movements despite the way the icy tendrils of water pull at him, try to slow him down, the way they fill his mouth and his nose and fuck it's just like that night all over again and fuck why is this the third fucking time he's had to go through something like this–

Gloved fingers claw and tear against the current and now his chest is starting to burn, it's so hot despite all the cold, it makes him so tired, so exhausted and he can't kick his legs, he can't make it easier, he's trying but he can't fucking move his legs–

He bumps against something hard above him. He latches onto it with a death grip, pulling it towards him despite the obvious resistance and shoves it under his chest and suddenly he's gasping for air as he breaches the surface, coughing up what water made its way into his mouth. He drapes himself over the piece of wood he grabbed, heaving in wheezing breaths as he tries to regain some sense of an ability to breathe.

As soon as he has even close to the amount of breath needed, he screams. It's loud, he thinks, by the way his throat is raw and hurting afterwards, but it's hard to tell with everything else. The edge of the wood digs into his (probably cracked now) ribs, and each movement in the water, each little wave, sends stabs of burning agony up and down his spine. Probably has to do with whatever is preventing him from moving his legs.

It's probably important.

Jason dismisses it for now.

The white spots flitting across and blocking his vision are starting to dissipate, though it's slow. He's able to make out an orange glow in the distance, and has some feeling of… recognition? To it. It's weird. There's something there. Something that matters. Something that–

Jason whimpers– he allows himself the indignity, the moment of weakness, seeing as he's completely fucking alone– when a shiver rips through his body. There's a steady pulsing– his heartbeat– coming from his body and–

Hm. Well, at least he's alive, because if his heartbeat wasn't coming from his body, then there would be some much bigger issues than whatever he's got going on right now.

He finds himself grinning at that, vaguely aware of how his teeth chatter together.

It's about the little things, like making yourself mentally laugh because the reality of the situation is that if you laughed out loud you'd probably scream. Again.

Squinting at the dark horizon, Jason is struck with the thought of wasn't that orange blob a lot bigger a moment ago?

But, like the rest of his thoughts in recent memory, it slips through his fingers like smoke. Or, to be more relatable to the situation at hand, the thoughts slip through his fingers like little blocks of ice that shatter at the impact of them hitting the ground.

Actually, that's super accurate, because Jason just did that! Minus the shattering. Maybe. He hopes.

Jason blinks slowly as he comes to the realization that his feet and hands are completely numb, and the sensation is crawling up his legs and arms. It doesn't help with the pain much, seeing as it isn't really in his hands or feet, but hey, maybe it'll help once it gets to his hips? Those things are causing him a world of pain right now and with how the bones and joints grind together in places they shouldn't be and it would just be really helpful–

Oh.

Maybe that's why he can't move his legs. Maybe his hips are dislocated.

Some vaguely gruff voice grunts in the back of his mind and he sags into the wood, all the fight leaving him at once. Or maybe he already did that. He takes this as an agreement, and decides to move on before he gets the urge to scream again.

Time is a weird soup and Jason doesn't have the mental capacity to unpack all that right now.

His chest hurts, a lot, but not as bad as his hips. There's the general feeling of pain that's widespread throughout his body focused on his chest, sure, but there's also little pinpricks of pain that manage to male it through every so often when he isn't nearly blinded with everything else.

Ooh, and his face is wet. Like, a warm wet. Not a cold wet. Usually. His head is laid on his arms, folded over the broken and burned piece of wood– when did that happen? Who knows, because Jason certainly couldn't tell you– and sometimes the little waves come up and splash him, washing away that warm wet with the icy cold wet, but there's a consistent flow of the warmth regardless. His eye is closed because of it, he knows that, but he can't really tell what it is because every time he tries to think about it his head starts pounding and his chest constricts further somehow and his eyes start burning and fuck it hurts, it hurts so bad, everything fucking hurts please I need help–

Yeah, no. Not touching that with a ten foot pole. It's easier to just… drift.

Drift, with the vague feeling of agony riddled in every fucking inch of him.

Drift, with the stabbing numbness crawling up his thighs and biceps now, and he knows he should do something about that but he just can't bring himself to fucking move–

Drift, and just let it all float away. Let it all fade to the background. Just breathe, and feel the way his heartbeat pulses as his body tries to start healing itself or keep itself warm, listen to the incessant ringing in his ears, and–

Wait.

Is someone calling his name?

“HOOD!?”

That feels like a name he's supposed to answer to. It sounds like someone's in trouble, or hurt, maybe?

“Oh shit, yeah, okay, um– I'll get you out of here, just gimme a sec, yeah? Yeah, okay, okay…”

He'll get right on that, oh scared citizen. Just… as soon as he can bring himself to unfreeze his limbs and move.

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

Man, fuck high school. Fuck English class specifically.

Duke groans as he lets his head fall back against the shitty bench he's sitting on, a dull thunk the only sound resonating from the action. It's fuckass early in the morning and he still isn't done with his damn essay that's due today. Only reason he's out here is so he can get a breather from staring at his screen all night, and hopefully stave off the headache that's been building for the past four hours.

The crisp spring breeze floats across Duke's face, partially hidden by the coat he's wearing to stay warm. As far as Gotham goes, it's actually a fairly decent temperature out, especially considering it's late March, but he doesn't feel like being cold for no reason so the heavy jacket it is.

And really, he just needed the fresh air. Which is an oxymoron because, once again, it's Gotham, but this is the closest he can get. This park right on the edge of the Narrows provides for a great backdrop to Duke's misery, scant trees and a small field serving as the foreground for the view into the Gotham River that splits middle and lower Gotham into its respective islands.

He sighs, slumping and gazing out into the river. In the distance, there's a plume of yellowy-orange that's slowly growing smaller. Must've been an explosion, no doubt one of the Bats. Probably Hood, if he's being honest. Based on what Duke's observed, he's the most likely one to cause an explosion by far, and the Narrows being his territory definitely doesn't protect it from that. Usually he's pretty careful about it though (honestly, to a level that's really impressive) so no one really minds all that much. Not like he's killing anymore, so he's probably gotta get his fix somehow.

Not that it matters much to Duke. It's not like he knows the guy, or any of the Flock for that matter. The most he's seen is the couple glimpses here and there, and what everybody's seen whenever they're on the news.

Regardless.

He's supposed to be relaxing for a bit, not thinking about all the rampant crime in the city he (unfortunately?) calls home.

Looking out over the river, he falls into an easy trance watching the little waves rippling out over the expansive surface. For once, it's not cloudy, so the moonlight reflects off the murky grey-brown-green water. Silvery white and red shines brightly against the dark background and–

Wait.

Pause.

Roll that back.

Duke blinks a couple times, squinting. There shouldn't be red in the water. Nothing that shines that brightly anyways. If it were blood, it would be way darker and he probably wouldn't even be able to see it. If it were some kind of cloth, it wouldn't just be that speck of color, and it wouldn't be shiny.

He rubs his eyes again, standing up.

When he looks again, he can see a dark blob mostly in the water behind the little dot of red. A little dot of red that's slowly drifting closer.

That's–? No, it can't be…

Right?

Duke finds himself jogging down to the water's edge, following the red spots path and yep– yep that's definitely a helmet, a very memorable helmet, one that everyone in Gotham knows at this point, but one a kid from the Narrows especially knows.

It's at this point that Duke starts running towards the steps leading down to the concrete beach, as they like to call it. His gaze stays locked on Hood's helmet in fear of possibly losing him amongst the waves, doubtful as it is. He nearly trips over the bottom step in his race to get down there.

By the time he's scaled the larger concrete steps, or benches, that lead down to the ‘beach’ proper, Hood has drifted closer. Close enough to be in earshot, maybe?

“Hood!” Duke yells, cupping his lips to make the sound travel further. “Hood, can you hear me?!”

He doesn't stir, from what Duke can tell. Fuck, what if he's dead? How am I supposed to tell the Bats one of them is dead??

No. No. He isn't dead. Just… just knocked out? Yeah, just knocked out. Hopefully.

“Hood, can you hear me?!” Duke shouts again in some vain attempt to get some sign of life from the guy. “HOOD?!”

It's miniscule, but his head shifts, just enough for it to have been purposeful and not just the waves. Duke smiles, but his anxiety skyrockets. Okay, okay, so he's alive, but he's gotta be super injured for this to be his reaction to Duke yelling his name at the top of his lungs in the fucking Narrows. This has gotta be some new level of stupid, now everyone who might've heard him is gonna know Hood is out here, and if they were able to tell Duke's distress then they'll know he's hurt–

No. Focus. Get him out of the water, deal with everything else later.

The frigid water laps at Duke's shoes as he gets closer, close enough that even from where the vigilante is at least fifteen yards out, he can see the blood shining on his face where a giant gash cuts through his helmet and the domino underneath, staining the white streak red. It looks like the domino might be cut through too, based on the sheer amount of blood that still steadily flows from the wound.

When he's finally close enough that Duke can get a better look at him, he can feel his heart drop out of his chest at the man's state, at least what little he can see. There are tears in his jacket and armor where he can see all the way through to skin, and the fabric is singed, charred in some places, mostly around his shoulder and arm. His breaths are slow, shallow, wheezing things that make Duke's gut twist in worry.

“Oh shit, yeah, okay, um– I'll get you out of here, just gimme a sec, yeah? Yeah, okay, okay…” Duke's hands flutter uselessly as he decides what to do. There's a vigilante– and not just any vigilante, the fucking Red Hood– washing up practically dead on the southwest beach of the Narrows, coming from some mission gone wrong, and if he's right about the general amount of time he's spent in the water, he highly doubts the rest of his Flock knows something's wrong, and that's not even considering Hood's trademarked independence from them all (which has gotten better in recent history as far as he knows, but it's definitely still a thing).

Long story short: this is a side of Hood that no one outside his family should be seeing and he doesn't know what to do.

“Okay, okay, one thing at a time. Get him out of the water, someplace safe and preferably warm,” Duke mutters to himself. Hood is freezing to the touch, and it's no wonder the man is practically vibrating with shivers. He manages to work his arms underneath Hood's and gently– well, as gentle as he can be with someone who's way too big and way too fucking heavy– lifts him and starts dragging him out of range of the waves. His head lolls and his body stays limp, like a doll with its strings cut (and what a comforting thought that is), but his chest stutters over every inhale and is shaking in every exhale. At this angle, he can't see Hood's face, but he wouldn't be surprised to find it screwed up in pain due to whatever injuries Duke can't see.

Unfortunately for him, he isn't nearly strong enough to fully lift the– he must be pushing 300 pounds, right? There's no way he's less than 250– vigilante so he'll just have to deal with it until Duke can get him to someplace he can actually lay down.

Thankfully, even with Duke being careful, he's able to drag the man over to a shadowed corner of the concrete bench steps, where the overhang of a tree and a nearby building blot out most of the little nook, making it easy for eyes to pass over dark shapes huddled in it. It also shields against most of the breeze coming in, which is a plus.

As carefully as he can, he manages to shimmy Hood into the little nook after getting his waterlogged jacket off. He looks up at Duke with foggy, unfocused eyes that seem to drift in a haze, but still manage to convey his wariness. Duke holds his hands up placatingly.

“I'm not gonna, uh, hurt you. Don't worry. Figured you didn't want to be left in the water.” He pauses, watching Hood's half-lidded and (slightly glowing?? What the fuck???) teal-green gaze slides over him, which is, frankly, terrifying. He may have not killed in awhile but Duke still remembers the time when this was the guy who was running around Crime Alley putting heads in duffel bags.

But it doesn’t look like he’s planning to do anything like that, seeing as his exhausted gaze then settles on a point in the middle distance.

Duke lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Okay, so um. I know you're like, injured? But how am I supposed to contact the Bats so they can pick you up? Because, uh, you're the only one that ever comes here.”

Hood's brow furrows at that, a little bit of clarity returning to his eyes. His hands painstakingly slowly drift up to his broken helmet, fingers fumbling with the back of it. Well, that's an exaggeration. His fingers aren't even moving, despite how much he's clearly trying to move them.

“Can you– can you tell me how to take it off? I don't think you're gonna be able to feel your fingers for a while,” Duke explains. Something like defeat crosses Hood's expression, but he relents.

“‘S– ‘s th’ ‘ne–” His words slur together, sounding oddly vulnerable without the voice modulator making everything sound like a menacing drawl. He breathes out a slow, measured breath before continuing. “It's– th’ one up t'p.”

The words are still slurred together, but this time Duke can actually make them out and follow the directions. He waits patiently (considering the circumstances) for the rest of Hood's instructions, breathing out a sigh of relief when the helmet latches unlock and he can work it off the vigilante's head.

Of course, that's immediately washed over with a wave of concern when his whole face is revealed to be nearly covered in blood from the gash across the side of his face the helmet was broken on. Now that he can see both eyes, he can see the pain– no, agony hidden behind that foggy exterior. Based on the constant shivering that wracks his body, Duke would guess that it's irritating whatever injuries are under his suit and making everything worse.

Unfortunately, there's nothing Duke can do about that without Hood taking off his suit, and that sure as shit ain't happening.

What he can do is help him take off the most outer layers he doesn't need right now and drape his coat over him to block out more of the wind and hopefully help him retain some body heat.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with this?” Duke asks once Hood's a little more situated, holding up the helmet for emphasis.

“Put ‘t on,” Hood murmurs hoarsely. Seriously, what had this guy been doing, gargling broken glass? “B'tt'n ‘n ear.”

Translating that as best he can, Duke slides the helmet on (which is way too big and frankly disgusting due to river water and blood but that's not really the point right now) and taps the button as instructed. A speaker clicks to life, but all there is is crackling static that's slowly fizzling out.

“It's just static. I think your comm might be broken, dude,” Duke informs him helpfully, setting the helmet beside him but under his coat. The ghost of a sardonic smile tugs at the corner of Hood's lips and there's a sharp exhale of breath that might've been a laugh before his blood-covered jaw is clenching and his scant breaths are careful, measured, and cautious.

This leaves Duke with his thoughts, which are steadily picking up speed as he flips through possibilities. Hood's comm is out, which means there's no way to contact his team that way. Anything else he might’ve had is clearly damaged too much to use, or he would've used it already, and even if it wasn't, he's too far off mentally to answer any questions Duke could ask.

Alright then, time for other methods. How do you get a Bat's attention?

Well, the obvious answer is crime. Issue with that is, Hood's the one who patrols the Narrows. So would that even work? Who would see it?

Duke gasps as he comes to the realization. Oracle! She watches the cameras across the city! Surely if I do something in front of one, then she'll see it and I can get a message across somehow?

He nods to himself, gathering up Hood's ripped-to-shreds leather jacket and folding it over his arm so the red bat symbol is hidden.

“Okay, Hood, I've got a plan, I'll be right back. Just like– stay here, I guess. I'm gonna find a way to talk to Oracle, so she can call your family, or team, or whatever.”

Everyone knows they're a family, but again, Hood's whole independence thing makes Duke double-guess referring to them as such in front of him though.

Hood just lazily trails his gaze over to fix Duke with a stare, so distanced yet so heavy that despite his condition he's sure the man will hunt him down if he breaks his word.

Duke just nods again and backs away, racing off to the nearest closed convenience store in the area.

This late at night, it's not hard to find one. He grabs a broken pipe from the alley nearby and smashes the front door in, wincing in preparation for an alarm. Nothing rings out, the night stays just as quiet as it was before.

Yeah, no shit, Duke. It's the fucking Narrows, no one uses alarms here.

He squints at the corners where the wall meets the ceiling, and the ceiling itself for cameras. Speedwalking through the aisles in his search, he pauses when he finds a shitty first aid kit. He grabs it.

The slight noise of mechanical whirring makes Duke's head snap towards the noise. A camera– one of those old, shitty ones– perched right above the doorway slowly turns to face him, to stare right at him, bore into his fucking soul–

Duke smiles a hysterical smile and runs up to it. The lens follows his movement, zooming out when he's right below it.

“H- Hello? I don't know if you can hear me, Oracle– God, I hope I'm actually talking to Oracle and not just the guy that owns this place– Hood is injured! I found him and hid him somewhere safe, for now, but he's not doing great, so if you could like… send someone to pick him up? I don't know. But I really can't do much for him with the condition he's in?” He holds up the red bat on the jacket and points at the first aid kit, trying to convey the urgency of the situation. “So um– yeah! Please help!”

With that, and a little more gesturing, he runs back to the park with the jacket and the first aid kit, skidding across the grass until he hits the concrete steps. He lets his steps slow as he approaches, trying to avoid startling the infamously trigger-happy vigilante that's hopefully still sheltering in the shadow of that little concrete nook.

Looking around the corner, he's still there, but he's almost entirely bowed as far into the corner as he can get, as if he's trying to hide in it by curling up as tight as he can and becoming part of the shadows. It's… it's a level of vulnerability Duke isn't really comfortable seeing one of the Bats in. It's a stark, painfully clear reminder that the Bats and Birds, as tough as they are, are still probably human.

Although Hood's possibly glowing eyes from earlier might single-handedly disprove that belief.

Duke pauses a few paces away from the man's curled up (thankfully still shivering) form. The shivers are small, though, the main movement being the shallow rising and falling of his chest and slightly shaking shoulders. His legs are still splayed out awkwardly, despite the way the rest of his body is curled in and shifted onto his side.

Fuck, that's probably not good. The lack of shivering is also probably not good.

Duke sits, half kneeling, and sets the first aid kit down beside him. “Hood? That gash on your face was bleeding a lot when I left, I was hoping you'd let me put some bandages on it?”

Hood flinches, slowly turning his head to look up at Duke. There's definitely a dim glow to his eyes, but they're foggier than before.

Another tally in the “probably not good” box.

“Y'r b'ck,” Hood grunts, just barely loud enough for Duke to hear.

He nods, opening the kit. “Yeah, said I'd be back. I think Oracle saw me, so hopefully someone is on their way.”

Hood hums, looking slowly between the bandages in Duke's hands and Duke himself before nodding and turning his face up enough that he can put bandages on.

“I'll try to clean it, and it's probably gonna hurt, but hey, at least it'll keep you awake,” Duke jokes halfheartedly, already finding the saline and clean towel from the kit to dab at the massive cut with. Past his opposite eyebrow twitching, Hood doesn't show any reaction to Duke's actions. Just gazing off into the distance, clearly trying his hardest not to pay attention any more than is absolutely needed.

It's just as Duke is securing the gauze pads to the gouge that he hears voices drifting across the wind, coming from the park. Hood seems to zone back in as well, tensing and glancing quickly around.

“I'll go check it out, it might be them,” Duke whispers, trying to reassure him. He only furrows a brow, but doesn't try– or rather, probably can't try– to stop him.

He, as quietly as he can, sneaks over to the top of the concrete bench stairs, scanning the park for the source of the voices. His eyes land on two shadows around the edge of it that seem to be bickering? He sees red and black on one of them, and purple on the other. He can't make out what they're saying at this distance, but their walk looks strange. Less like a walk, more like they're gliding along.

Or like capes are obscuring their legs.

Duke grins, jumping up and running over to them. It becomes very apparent very quickly that the two forms are Red Robin and Spoiler. Both become guarded and suspicious when Duke approaches, but he stays a respectable distance away.

“Hood's over here, there wasn't anywhere else I could get him to since he can't walk,” Duke explains, running back to the nook with them.

“Why can't he walk?” Red Robin asks quickly. Duke shrugs.

“I don't know, man. I just know I had to drag his heavy ass over here and he hasn't moved, really.”

Spoiler swears when she rounds the corner, kneeling beside Hood's head and moving it into her lap.

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

“Oi, Alley, you in there?”

Jason grunts a vague affirmative, weakly glaring up at her through the haze of pain clouding his vision. Steph smiles, carding a gloved hand through his hair while being careful to avoid the bandages on his face. It's strained, but it's not like anyone can see that behind the half mask she wears.

“B's en route,” Tim announces, stopping beside the two of them. He glances back at the kid who led them here. “Thanks for pulling him out. We've got him from here.”

“Yeah, just– I don't know how long he was in the water for, and I don't think he's shivering as much as he used to be. And he's got pieces of metal or something stuck in him. Just be careful?”

“We will,” Tim assures. The kid nods and walks off, wringing his hands nervously. Steph doesn't pay him much attention, trusting Tim to keep watch until he leaves. Only then does he kneel beside Jason as well, gently feeling around for his injuries. It's easy to tell when he finds them, seeing as Jason's too exhausted to keep his face under control now.

“Dislocated hips, injured ribs, but I can't tell how bad or how many with his armor in the way. Definitely hypothermia, heart rate and breathing is slow and wheezing,” Tim reports. “Scattered shrapnel from the explosion, doesn't seem like it hit anything vital.”

“Keep him awake, ETA one minute,” Batman responds.

“Robin and I will be heading back shortly,” Dick cuts in. “Don't look at me like that, this is prime family cuddle pile time.”

Cass hums an agreement. “Will prepare theater.”

“See, she gets it. Cmon, babybat. Time to skeddadle.”

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

The rest of the night is spent with Jason at the center of the family cuddle pile, much to his chagrin once he wakes up. Tim and Bruce berate him for his recklessness, he deflects, the cycle continues.

In the end, though, he gets his allotted family cuddle pile time and isn't even upset in the moment because he's (figuratively) dead to the world.

Bruce doesn't much appreciate the joke when Steph makes it.

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lullabyalikpoptarot · 2 days ago

Text

BTS' Thoughts on Being an Idol Part 2

Disclaimer: I am claiming no facts here. This is just my interpretation of the cards I get. Need to make this so people can see, because they bring the tea here. All is alleged.

I feel I have energy to get to this reading for this weekend. So, let's see what they feel like sharing for this segment. This went how I expected to go. I thought they would be more silent, but nope. They spilled some tea. Here you go. This is pretty long, sorry, but they had a lot to say

Seokjin

Thoughts on company? (The Star/9 of Cups/Queen of Swords) They fulfilled a wish from him, made his dreams come true. They did make him the star he is today. He does feel a bit exposed and had to pour a lot of himself on to others, which can get too much at times. I think he tries to focus on the good and blocks out the negative aspects as much as he can. He sees the company as pretty cutthroat, critical, a bit cold, not that loving and compassionate. I get feminine energy here. I do see them being open to hear his thoughts and opinions, but they don't show much compassion.

Thoughts on Industry? (3 of Pentacles/The Hanged Man/Wheel of Fortune) There is a collaborative effort to get things done, kind of do what you are told, follow orders. I see him having not much input. Maybe he feels hung to dry and sometimes put in difficult situations. He sees things continuing to keep moving and money made here. It is like he goes through the motions. He doesn't really invest his energy in the industry too much. His energy feels pretty nonchalant about things.

Effect idol life has had on him? (3 of Swords rv/King of Cups/The Moon/King of Pentacles) Well, this question he seems the most passionate about, cards flew out for this one. There are some things he hasn't healed from or worked through or he can't really communicate the things that has made him upset. I am getting again, about being exposed somehow. There could be some things that he hides and doesn't want to share. There are a lot of emotions he is feeling though. He could feel slighted by this KOP's. I asked for a clarifier and got the hanged man, this goes along with the question above I guess he feels upset that this person leaves him hanging out to dry. He seems to have a different viewpoint on this KOP's now, maybe he has new insight to this person that he didn't have before. This KOP's could have put him in a lot of difficult situations.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry? (6 of Pentacles/7 of Pentacles/Death) Dude, why did I have to get the Death card here, do not like that card, but it could mean he wants some ending or change to happen, for some things to end. He wants to be paid fairly and got what he is owed, I felt that in the question above to, but didn't feel like sharing it, but getting that sense here too. He may want to create his own image and not the one concocted for him by others. Maybe that is what he wants to end, like the death of the image they created of him.

Man, his was hard to interpret as usual. I struggle to understand his messaging, but didn't expect to get as much as I got, thought he would be mute. I mean he didn't give me anything too wild though, but interesting stuff.

Suga

Thoughts on company? (10 of Pentacles/The Devil/Page of Wands) Don't think he is a fan. Well, he knows the group is their money maker, put out there for display. They have to carry a lot of the weight for the company. He feels binded and contracted to stay with them. This just gives me like a toxic relationship he can't get out of. On these two cards all I see is money, so they all they care about his money. Not sure he can leave even if he tries. He does want to venture out and explore new things. I think he wishes they focus on the creative aspect and let him create more or be more creative. He may feel they are a bit hesitant to try new things. He may feel they play it safe sometimes.

Thoughts on Industry? (5 of Pentacles/Knight of Swords/3 of Swords) He feels there is loss of money there, maybe he feels they can't make much money in the industry. There could be a lot of debt, lack of support and they leave you out to dry. Umm, I am getting he wants to know where the money is going. I heard that when I was looking at the 5 of Pentacles. That's interesting, maybe that is what he is pissed about. This sounds like the story of every boyband in the world. Stealing money and not giving the members their money's worth. I feel this man has a lot to share about the industry and I can see him sharing his hurt and frustration about it, not sure how that would work out. But he seems pissed with how they go about things. I just heard, 'I want to tear them to shreds, so yeah.'

Effect it has had on him? (2 of Wands/9 of Pentacles/5 of Cups) It has allowed him to harness creative energy and work on his vision. It may have fueled a fire in him. I see him wanting to be independent and stand on his own. And shedding the idol image, now can he do that or will he do that, not sure. I see him having a vision of wanting to do things on his own. I see him feeling down how things have not worked out how he wanted.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry ? (The High Priestess/The Magician/4 of Pentacles) Interesting to see the high priestess and the magician, both for me has to do with magic spells, so not sure he knows any spells to manifest things into his life, but he may try that, but overall, I see him trying to create a way to control his money flow, or to retain the money he has or gets. I am just getting this sense of I need to have control of my money. So, that is what he is going to try to do.

Well, I felt he would be more vocal and bring some tea, and he did.

J-Hope

Thoughts on company? (2 of Swords/The Emperor/The Magician) He seems to be at odds with a powerful figure in the company, could be Bang PD, but not certain, but someone who inserts their control, pretty strict and can get aggressive. It is about what he creates and how he uses his skills and talents. I don't see either one backing down here, but they don't agree at all with the direction each want to go in.

Thoughts on Industry? (The Hanged Man/9 of Wands/2 of Cups) He might have accepted things for what they are and has a whole new outlook on the industry. It is like there isn't much he can do about things; his hands are tied. He sees that the industry beats you down and are all for the money. Once again, the pact card pops up from this deck. I had to get some other cards, because wtf does this mean. I got the 8 of Swords, which gives me someone wanting to look away, this is something they cannot face, talk about or address and now the 2 of wands, which in this deck, this card can give me sexual favors and acts, not sure he participated, but he may show he is aware of it. I wanted another card and got the 4 of Pentacles, it is a means to control their career and keep them in line that is what I am interpreting here. Moving on.

Effect it has had on him? (8 of Swords/10 of Swords/The Hanged Man) He kind of tries to shield himself from it. He may try to not address certain things, or he just keeps silent and can't express what is going on. He may feel a sense of entrapment. I see a lot of thoughts weighing on him, it is mentally tasking for him. But once again, he is showing my hands are tied, not much I can do.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry ? (10 of Cups/3 of Cups/3 of Pentacles) Sometimes that 3 of Cups gives me party favors or rituals, but what I am seeing is, he wants more positivity and to radiate positive energy to others. He wants a loving family community in the industry. He wants more love, joy and hope around being an idol and the industry. He would like people to work better together. For the idols and company to work as a team. It is like what they show to the public is how he wants things to be, or maybe that is what he will try to do as an idol moving forward.

I was not expecting him to share as much as he did, since he comes off as wanting to hide the tea, but guess not, thanks Hobi's higher self/guides for the insight.

Thoughts on company? (3 of Cups/8 of Cups/Queen of Cups) This is giving me similar vibes to one of the Aespa girlies reading. I just hear, I don't want no part of this shit. There are things they do that he doesn't want to be a part of. It has to do with woman, drinks, parties. It is like they get offered stuff from woman; drinks it could be. I am getting orgies from the 3 of Cups. But he wants to remove himself from that. I am getting shown a vision of him at a party and woman offering drinks, it may be an industry party. Okay, I can't go further unfortunately. I feel like I am being pushed out, like I can't go deeper unfortunately, they aren't letting me, I feel some resistance, but that means I am on to something here, darn it. I feel he tries to give me insight, but I get pushed out lol These companies got some strong ass protective shields, but with that money, they better lol You guys win this round.

Thoughts on Industry? (The Sun/The Emperor/7 of Wands) What I am seeing is that I don't think he likes that they control young children, that is how I see this spread. I see him wanting to take a stand against them for this. Okay, got something else they control your true essence, that maybe it. The Sun is about the Ego, your authentic self. He doesn't like that they contain that. The first message could apply too. They can steal their creativity as well. Or dim it.

Effect it has had on him?( 4 of Pentacles/The Fool/6 of Wands) He has learned to control and invest in his assets. He may have learned not to take risk. He has learned to have a competitive spirit and learned to win at all costs. Yeah, he may have been more of a risk taker before but isn't as much now. There needs to be a level of control around him, or he needs to have control of things. There is this competitive drive he has gained through this experience. I am hearing to defeat the enemy, not sure what that means, but okay.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry? (5 of Cups/Temperance/The Hanged Man) I think he is trying to find balance. For people to compromise more or will try to. He wants to try to view things differently. I see him wanting to step away to. I am not sure what the 5 of Cups means, like he may want to focus more on the brighter side of things. Maybe he wants to be aware of all the downsides that he has went through, there is a silver lining to it. It is like he was put in a difficult situation, so he wants to find a way to improve the situation that he may not be able to control through his own mindset. It is like he may not control outside circumstances, but he can control his inner dialogue. It is like he wants to find inner peace, and this is how he can do it.

Another one with some interesting tea and once again, that protection that is around him is persistent. But still got something

Jimin

Thoughts on company? (5 of Cups/Page of Pentacles/Ace of Swords) This 5 of Cups is showing up a lot. I see him facing disappointments and regrets. It is hard for him to see the bright side of things when it comes to the company. He is patiently and cautiously waiting for his next steps. He could have a plan to take some sort of stand of defense, not sure anything will be done with that being an ace card. It is like he has an idea to further progress his career, but it is not fully well thought out. I mean this doesn't say much about the company though. They may leave him little room to grow and flourish when it comes to his career. It seems like he may be a bit stunted.

Thoughts on Industry? (The Devil/Page of Wands/Ace of Pentacles) Well, I got the toxic card, so there is that. There is a lot lurking in the shadows when it comes to this industry. Money could be tied to some dark stuff. The number of times I get this card is wild. They kind of shield your creativity. They don't really allow too much creative freedom. They are really about the money and how they can make that. This makes sense.

Effect it has had on him? (2 of Wands/4 of Swords/Death) Ugh, I keep getting this sh** There are 78 cards in this deck and these two cards had to come out, together! This pisses me off. Once again, the 2 of Wands and with the 4 of Swords in this deck, gives me sexual favors/acts, sorry. I was pissed when I saw the 2 of wands but then got more pissed when the 4 of swords came out after it, and it is literally someone naked on a clouded bed. This annoys me and I don't know what this death card means and not sure I want to know. I feel he has lost a part of himself due to this, maybe this is why he feels so disconnected in my readings. I can also see the 4 of swords as them shining a light on their vulnerabilities. Alleged, just a feeling, but that card is making me feel there could be videos and photos of him as well. F*** this industry if true.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry? (2 of Pentacles/3 of Pentacles/8 of Swords) There could be people he wants to build a team with and work with, but this 8 of Swords is making game feel sad. I heard, help me, it is like he is trapped and kind of has to do what he is told. I am sorry I needed more clarification on that 8 of Swords and got the knight of cups and the moon, so how I interpret this is that he has kind of blocked himself off from his emotions, kind of getting that dissociation energy here. It is like he blocks his emotions off to not feel his emotions, due to the fact that if he does feel things that things that haunt him will come up again. That is how I see it. It now makes sense why this dude tries to escape and distract himself. I might need to go read his perspective reading again, because this is making me sad. And I feel there is something there that could help me understand this messaging better. I get an ominous feeling about what is going on with this man. I asked for one other card and got the knight of swords, so it seems he may want to go after someone or defend himself to this person, someone he works with, so he could be pissed off at someone. He seems he is coming with a vengeance.

Alright, that one was rough, moving on. I knew this one would take me a long time to do but want to finish this. So yeah, looks like he has been through it, and I feel this industry has messed him up. Allegedly. This is why he feels so disconnected, dissociated energetically, it makes sense to me now.

Thoughts on company? (8 of Pentacles/Page of Cups/9 of Wands) Didn't I get that he was being watched in a reading or observed by the company? Because I am sensing that with this card's imagery on this deck. It is like they always try to put him to work and keep him busy. This page of cups was so hard for me to grasp. I keep getting pulled to the cup with a fish on it and got surprised or unexpected events. This made absolutely no sense to me, so pulled another card and got the 10 of Pentacles, once again, I get this vibe that they try to keep him under lock and key, because of the money he brings to the company, so they try to contain him, it is like Tae can be a bit out of control. I don't think I can avoid saying this, man, why do I have to get these messages, I hear pregnancy, so not sure if there was one with him or a scare, or they are fearful of him getting someone pregnant, but yeah, maybe this is why they keep him under observation. Anway, he is important to the company and their money, so they make sure he doesn't slip up. I tried to avoid saying this but so be it. No facts, just going with the message I get. I see him taking a stand against the company and fighting back as well. He has also dealt with some battle scares with them as well and has been pretty beat down by the industry as well. It is a tough industry to be in.

Thoughts on Industry? (King of Wands/King of Cups/Page of Pentacles) Not sure if he sees that the industry can inspire change and can bring love and compassion to the world. This makes no sense to me. Or maybe he wants that. He would like more passion and compassion. It seems for him it takes a long time to grow financially and build support in the industry. He may feel there needs to be more stability in the industry. And there is a lack of growth and maybe cultivating artist in the industry. I see him thinking there should be improvements with how one climbs the latter. Interesting messaging, because it does not fit with the cards, but going with the messages I get. I feel like it fits with his unique way of seeing things, so yeah.

Effect it has had on him? (3 of Wands/The World/The Magician) I don't see a lot of negative impacts here, seems quite positive. Like this has allowed him to expand himself and get a global reach. He is able to share his talents with the world. And put himself out there, so he is pretty positive about things when it comes to the idol life. It is like this is something he has always wanted for himself.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry? (The Fool/Justice/6 of Wands) He wants to wipe the slate clean, maybe start all over. He wants to receive justice. I am getting fair pay. There is this fighter and winner spirit he has to seek what he wants. I can also see him wanting to take a risk, maybe that means starting over again, who knows. There is this energy of wanting to defeat others. I hear take them down and get what he feels he deserves.

Hs wasn't too intense thankfully

Jungkook

Thoughts on company? (9 of Wands/10 of Swords/The Sun rv) He doesn't feel highly of them. Feels battered, broken and bruised. He feels mentally drained, betrayed, and backstabbed. I do see with this 9 of wands he does stand up for himself. I just hear, 'you can't beat me down.' He won't go down without a fight. But he can get really down in the dumps and there are a lot of heavy thoughts that weigh on him, due to the company. They have dimmed his light, took his youth and just hidden the light he has within him. The sun just reminds me of brightness, life and youthful energy and it is just mostly gone from him, due to the company. I just get he is a bit jaded.

Thoughts on Industry? (7 of Cups/Knight of Pentacles/3 of Cups) Ugh, thought I would be safe here, but no. The industry sells you a fantasy and delusions. Not what you see is reality of how things are. To further advance their career, they may need to entertain parties and yeah, you guys know this part, but that is what I am seeing with this. There is money put into this too, is what I am sensing here too. I just hear them telling him, go, you will have fun, shit like that. I kind of don't like that I get this, but I feel this insight is needed to understand that backroom deals that might possibly be happening.

Effect it has had on him? (Page of Wands rv/10 of Swords/4 of Cups) I just want to hug this boy. Well, they didn't nurture his creativity at all or take care of him or keep him safe. I feel he may get depressed and have lots of negative thoughts due to the idol life. He is basically emotionally done and drained, pretty much emotionally numb due to all this. I don't see this man taking any offers from the company. I just see him pretty much closed off right now.

Trajectory or direction he wants to head in as an idol or the industry? (Queen of Cups/The Hanged Man/Page of Pentacles) I think he wants to connect with his emotions and share that with others, especially the fans. He wants to spread his light and love towards others. I see him wanting to pour his love to the fans for some reason. He wants to try to look at things differently, kind of like Namjoon, trying to learn and accept the difficulties of this life. And like Tae, he wants growth to be organic, oh that just came out, I was going to say something else, like what Tae said in his part, but I guess he wants it that way. Like more of a slow process, not things happening too fast, now that could be for the industry.

I don't know, but the more I read for him. The more I adore him. But also feel a bit sad. Him and Jimin seemed like they went through it the most.

And I still don't get how I get resistance from only Namjoon's energy, but not the others, like why Namjoon? is it because he seems to share the most or know the most? I get blocked off from Namjoon's energy, but not the others, because they all gave me tea here, not just him. But that is what I have for them for this installment. Hope you enjoyed the read.

#kpop tarot #bts tarot

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taurasiscntybun · 1 day ago

Text

Bite Bargains pt two

-DARK ROMANCE minors dni

-Vampire DT x femme reader

-Warnings: Dubious consent, blood kink (duh), oral, power dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, blood drinking, asphyxiation play

-3.3k words

-literally AS ALWAYS thanks to my editor @taurasicomplex

Reader pov

The rum filled drink was making you less nervous but it wasn’t helping with your arousal, somehow basketball was doing more for you than most foreplay; and the thought of meeting Diana after the game. You glance to your right to the bench and startle to find Diana looking directly at you. When she notices you staring she doesn’t look away but instead meets your eyes, her gaze piercing and unmistakable. You look away first, turning your attention back to your glass but her brown eyes are seared in your mind, she had looked almost animalistic, like a panther ready to pounce. A thrill runs up your spine, you didn’t know what this meeting after the game would entail but based on her looks you were beginning to believe she’d be giving you a lot more than just her jersey.

The rest of the quarter goes by in a blur and every so often you find Diana looking at you. While you’re excited by the idea of her wanting you; it was the way she was looking at you, like she was stalking you down. Anxiety mingled with excitement when you caught her staring again. Finally the buzzer sounded and it was halftime; all the players started to head towards the tunnel except Diana. She stopped in front of you, looming over you with a grin on her face, the smile not quite meeting her eyes.

“Meet me over by the tunnel in three minutes.” Diana said softly and bent down next to you, she ran her cool lips against your neck and groaned.

“You smell so good angel, tunnel in three minutes, don’t disappoint me.” She straightened and ran towards the away tunnel. You watched her run away, your whole body buzzing with indecision, you stood up, realizing if you wanted to get to the tunnel in three minutes you needed to start moving now. You quickly sucked down the rest of your cocktail and grabbed your purse, starting to push through the crowd.

“I can’t not go like that would be crazy right?” You mutter to yourself and straighten your skirt as someone bumps into you, still slowly making your way towards the tunnel.

“I mean if she wants like a quickie that’s fine, obviously I want that duh, fuck chill.” You continue to mumble as you part the crowd, finally you reach the away tunnel. As you approach you're stopped by a security guard but Diana appears from seemingly nowhere to let you through.

”Fuck, took you long enough angel.” She says in a low tone and rolls her neck before motioning for you to follow her.

”That couldn’t have been more than three minutes, that’s how long it took me to walk from my seat.” You protest and hurry after her.

”Halftime is fifteen minutes, we’re down to ten now.” Diana states and ducks into the shower room.

“Uh ok?” You pick up the pace and slip into the room after her.

“Everyone is in the locker room, no one is here.” She motions around the room and points to a bench against the wall.

“Sit there and pull up your skirt.” Her tone is matter of fact, as if she already knows you will.

”I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb pet, why do you think I brought you here? Go sit on the fucking bench so I can eat your fucking cunt, now.” Her tone borders on a growl and there’s a moment of indecision, she notices.

”You can either walk over there or I will drag you over there, do you understand?”

You suck in a breath at her words and move across the room to the bench, already hiking your skirt up.

“You can’t just make me.” You huff and sit down on the bench, instantly she’s in front of you, her actions so quiet you didn't know she had moved.

“I don’t have to make you, pet, look at you on the bench with your skirt up and pussy dripping like a good little girl.” Diana’s finger traces your jaw before she drops to her knees in front of you, harshly parting your thighs.

“No wait Diana.” You fight against her grip to close your legs and she growls.

“What? What do you want?” She asks through clenched teeth, letting her grip on your thighs go slack.

“I can’t…you can’t…no I” You stutter and try to stand up, you glance down and see her large hand sprawled over your torso, she pushes you back on the bench; the move powerful but seemingly easy for her, her arm barely twitching.

“You can, and you will, now shut up, we have nine minutes now.” Diana keeps one hand on your torso, pressing you into the bench, her fingers flexing in the scratchy polyester jersey. She roughly parts your thighs with her other hand and her body.

“Mmm fuck, you smell so fucking good, I couldn’t think on the court, I needed you in my mouth, Im so hungry.” Diana groaned and kissed up your thigh, her hand now searching your torso for the end of the jersey. You lift up from the bench and untuck the large jersey from your skirt, pulling it up a bit more in the process. Instantly after you're done she’s pressing you into the bench again, her hand wandering under your jersey now. Her mouth finds your pantie covered core and you moan at her surprisingly cool breath against you. You start to lift up to let her pull your panties down but she firmly pressed you back down. You feel a sharp tug and hear a rip then gasp at the cool air on your exposed cunt.

”Fuck how did you?” You gasp as her tongue runs up your slit.

“Flimsy things, I guess I have sharp teeth.” Diana says against your cunt and you can feel the chilled huff of her laugh on your heated skin. Her hand under your shirt reaches your bra, she lifts the underwire, lifting the garment off your tits to settle around your neck. She quickly covers one of your exposed breast with her hand, her large palm scraping across your nipple.

”Oh god!” You exclaim as her mouth finds you again, her tongue ravishing your clit.

“So good pet, so pretty writhing under me, so needy even though you said no. If we had more time I’d punish you for lying.” She groans against your cunt, the vibrations of her words sending sparks of pleasure through you.

“W…why?” You stutter and rock your hips against her face.

“I’m hungry and you are delicious, I knew you would be, I could smell your sweet arousal pet.” She sucks at your entrance eliciting a moan from you.

“Fuck, seven minutes, you’re going to cum in the next minute.” Diana pulls your legs over her arms and reaches her hands up to grope your tits. The full weight of your legs on her arms not even bothering her. The new angle lifts your hips and Diana eagerly takes advantage of you spread wider. She laps at your pussy, alternating between sucking on your clit and thrusting her tongue in your core.

“Oh fuck! Diana!” You moan and grind against her face, your orgasm fast approaching. She moans and focuses all her attention on your clit, sucking and licking.

“Six minutes, cum on my face pet.” Diana orders, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, her brown irises almost seeming to glow in dim lights of the empty shower room. Your breath hitches as you reach your peak and you feel a sudden sharp pain.

“What the fu-“ You start to protest but it turns into a moan; a fire spreading through your body. You could feel pleasure everywhere, your head clouded with lust. Your impending orgasm only seemed to grow, Diana’s sucking on your clit relentless. Finally you break, your hips jerk and your pussy spasms as your orgasm slams through you. Your whole body is aflame, your whole being throbbing with need.

“Diana.” You whine and she just groans in response, her breath slow and irregular as she continues to feast on you, her eyes rolling back in her head. You tremble as the torturous pleasure continues. Diana stops for a moment and locks eyes with you again. Her hand leaves your breast to grip your chin, forcing you to look at the top half of her face peaking from between your thighs.

“We have four minutes, you’re going to cum in under two, do you understand me pet?” Her grip on your chin turns painful and you whimper in response.

“We don’t have time for this! I asked you a fucking question, you’re going to cum in the next two minutes right pet?” She shakes your head side to side slowly as she speaks. You let out a whimper, accepting the nickname.

“Y…yes I’m going to cum in the next two minutes.” You pant out and she releases your chin. Before you can relax she smacks your cheek hard enough to leave a mark then turns her attention back to your tits.

“My…god… fuck!” You cry out.

Diana’s pov

“Mmm fuck, you smell so fucking good, I couldn’t think on the court, I needed you in my mouth, Im so hungry.” Diana moaned against her newest pet, she was the sweetest she’d tasted, indescribably addictive.

“Fuck, seven minutes, you’re going to cum in the next minute.” Diana maneuvers her around. She was still struggling a little bit. That was no good, Diana needed her at the height of pleasure, putty in her arms. She reaches up to grab her little pet’s tits, the warm tender flesh under Diana’s hands making her own core ache.

“Oh fuck! Diana!” She cries, Diana is greeted with another flood of arousal from her throbbing pussy. Diana focuses all her attention on her clit, making sure it is nice and swollen, flushed with arousal for when she bites.

“Six minutes, cum on my face pet.” Diana orders, her own body trembling with need and hunger. Her eyes shined with an unnatural glow. She looks up at her human, letting her see the predator in her as she devours her. Diana hears her breath hitch and she knows it’s her time to strike. Diana sucks her clit into her mouth and sinks her fangs into the engorged folds around it. The first taste of blood hits Diana’s tongue and she’s in ecstasy. The flavors of arousal and blood mixing on her taste buds. It was everything she needed.

“What the fu-“ Her pet started to protest, no doubt questioning the pain but she quickly succumbs to pleasure. Diana sucks harder, her tongue darting down to lap up her release. She groans low in her throat at the mingling tastes. Diana didn’t know if all vampires enjoyed the taste of cum as much as she did but to her it was nearly as good as blood; and mixed with blood was the flavor Diana was always craving. She knows her venom is coursing through her sweet little human right now, pure orgasmic bliss would be spreading like wildfire.

“Diana” She whines and Diana groans at the little noises she makes. Diana dips her head down a bit to gather more of her release then sucks a mouthful of blood. She can feel it in her very bones and her eyes roll back in her head. She struggles to remember to breath, she still needed to appear human to her little pet but she was so lost in her feast she forgot. Diana feels her start to tremble and pull away and she grabs her chin, forcing her to look in her ethereal eyes. She kept the lower half of her face covered, not sure if there was blood. She was pressed for time but she couldn’t get enough, and another orgasm wouldn’t take that long.

“We have four minutes, you’re going to cum in under two, do you understand me pet?” Diana squeezes her chin harder, her cold fingers digging into her soft cheeks. She needed another orgasm, she needed to taste her sweet little human again.

“We don’t have time for this! I asked you a fucking question, you’re going to cum in the next two minutes right pet?” Diana shook her head side to side and snarled, she wanted her submission.

“Y…yes I’m going to cum in the next two minutes.” Diana all at once releases her face, she gives her a smack as a reminder. She fondles her tits, rolling her nipples between her fingers and tugging gently. Her pet is close again, Diana can feel her quivering on her tongue. She elongates her fangs waiting for the precipice.

“My…god… fuck!” She cries out, dangerously loud. Diana strikes, sinking her fangs in her sweet human’s pussy. She maneuvers her legs back over her shoulders and moves her hands from her tits to the bra; yanked up in disarray and settled against her pets neck. Diana grabs the fabric and pulls it, causing the fabric to cut off her airways, her little whimpering noises sending shivers down her spine.

“Such a good girl for me, you taste so good.” Diana coos as she sucks in another mouthful of blood. Her pet looks down at her wide eyed, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tried to draw air. She stared for a moment, how easy it would be, pull the bra a little tighter, so fragile. She releases her grip on the bra and she gasps beneath her. Diana takes one last long draw of blood, the slight pang of fear mixing with the heady arousal.

“I think our times up for now Angel, meet me after the game; I haven’t forgotten about your jersey.” She says, trying to compose herself. The taste of blood has soothed the gnawing hunger but now there was something almost as bad. She wanted this girl, her blood was intoxicating.

She’s thankful for the black warm up shirt and she wipes her face on the sleeve before looking up at her sweet little pet.

“Now hurry back to your seat, the second half is about to start.” Diana drolled, standing up from the floor and stretching a few times, she felt better than she had in a long time.

Reader pov

You watch baffled as Diana easily composes herself, and leans against the wall.

“Oh uh yeah is there a bathroom I can check in real quick?” You stand up on unstable legs, before you can fall Diana has wrapped her hand around your arm, you look down at her hand in disbelief, she’d moved so silently and quickly, she’d been by the door moments ago.

“This is the shower room, there’s probably a mirror angel. I have to get back. Remember after the game though.” She pulls you against her and buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent with a groan; then hurries from the room.

“What the fuck?” You mutter and wander over to a vanity to stare at your reflection. Your makeup is ruined and hair is mussed but a little soap and water will fix it. You feel bad about going through anyone’s shower bag but surely one of the girls had makeup remover. You picked the girliest looking bag and your assumption was correct as you pull out a pack of makeup wipes. You make quick work of your clean up, cleaning your face and between your thighs. Your underwear was ruined however, now you’d have to be even more careful in your skirt. Satisfied with your appearance you slip out of the room and search for a security guard. The second half of the game is already underway, you can hear the cheers and rumblings of the crowd as you walk through the player hallway, finally you spot a security guard. You suck in a breath and roll your shoulders, ready to act.

”Excuse me, excuse sir please” You called, pitching your voice a little higher and making it a little slower. The guard turned around, obviously shocked to see you.

”Maam this area is off limits Im going to have to ask you to leave.” He says and takes a step towards you.

”Ugh I figured that out, Im trying to figure out how to leave! I was trying to get to the bathroom and there was this long line and then some girl said she knew another bathroom and then we walked down all these hallways; I come out of the bathroom and she’s gone! Now I’m missing the game, wandering around these stupid tunnels.” You walk towards him and look up at him with puppy dog eyes, your voice purposefully needy.

“Oh Im so sorry that happened to you maam, of course, do you know your seat number?” He asks and lightly touches your arm, men loved playing a white knight, he’d walk you right to your seat if you acted distressed enough.

“Oh the seats! I paid an arm and a leg for them, they’re court side, I saved up for months and now I’m missing the game.” You whine and pull out your phone to look at your ticket. You flip it around to show him.

”Im between the visitors bench and the scorers table.” You add helpfully and he nods.

”Of course, Ill get you back there in just a second. We’re gonna take the employee route since its faster and the game is going on so uh watch your step please cause I don’t want to get in trouble.” His too big ears redden at his words and you take a moment to study him, his too tall, all gangly limbs. He clearly got the security job because he was so tall; he was young too, probably only right out of high school with his dorky glasses and big ears.

“I promise I’ll be extra careful. Thank you again.” You gush and follow him.

”Of course, I know what it’s like to save up money for something, I dont want you to miss it.” He leads you through some tunnels under the court and end up by the vip bar on the floor.

“Wow I think I got it from here thank you so much?…”

”Peter, uh my names peter.” He says shyly and you pat his arm.

”Well thank you Peter.” You say and watch him walk back to the tunnels. Deciding to take advantage of the vip area you accidentally wound up in, you head to the bar.

The bartender looks at you and smiles.

“Things on that menu are complimentary and things on this menu are an up charge, I just need to see your ID sweetheart.” She says in a warm tone. You dig through your purse and produce your wallet handing your id over to her.

”Complimentary as in like free?” You ask and try to cover your shock, you knew vip was fancy but damn. The bartender just nods and hands your id back to you.

“Uh I’ll have two Bahama Mamas please.” You tell her and pull out a five for the tip jar. Behind you you heard the crowd roaring and knew someone from phoenix was shooting a free throw. You were almost nervous to watch the game; to see Diana out there playing with traces of you in her mouth, on her skin. To return to your seat and watch basketball like everything was normal and she didn't just make you cum twice in ten minutes was impossible to you. After a few moments the bartender sits your drinks on the counter. You pull out another five for the tip jar.

”Listen Im gonna slip out of vip and please don’t say anything, its a really long story.” You drop the money in the jar and grab the drinks, hoisting your pocketbook further up your shoulder so you can double fist the cocktails. As you slip by the ropes you look back and the bartender gives you a wink.

#diana taurasi #wnba x reader #fanfic #lesbian #wnba requests #vampire au #hope you lesbians like long fics #fic writing #diana taurasi x reader #wlw smut #dark romance

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