#but i still get along with them really well
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spiderace · 3 days ago
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This is an interesting point about art.
People in 2024 will say that for e.g. far right art can't be good, but the thing is, people who believe terrible things have made great art since always. Ayn Rand genuinely moves people. I don't get it, I find her prose dull, but she does. Hitler wrote a bestseller. Thomas of Aquinas blamed women for many of his problems and is still more revered than not. And of course every year another Joss Whedon turns out to have been terrible all along and we all have to discover that we didn't REALLY love everything he did for twenty years. I'm not even going to address the elephant in that room, but you all know its looming sorting-hat-shaped shadow.
The reason most extremist art is terrible now is, I think, that extremists are no longer willing to traffic in implication. For example, I'm a Christian (I love you gay Methodists), and I like the Conjuring movies even though the Warrens were terrible.
These movies are explicitly pro-Christian. They believe in an afterlife, heaven, hell, demons exorcism. On the culturally conservative end, they're about a loving cis heterosexual married couple with a beloved daughter, and they never mention or acknowledge that LGBT people exist that I can recall.
Right-wing Christians will not watch or accept these films, because they are horror films, or because they don't adhere strictly to the doctrine of a given denomination. For a movie to be publicly acceptable as a Christian film by contemporary American Christianity, it has to either be a Bible story or be God's Not Dead, a movie where (spoilers!) an atheist left-wing college professor gets hit by a car and Christians coerce him into converting in order to ensure that he goes to Heaven.
This creates a bizarre environment where left-wing films are unacceptable because they have left-wing implications, but films with right-wing implications are unacceptable because they are not right-wing enough.
As a horror fan, this is not only bizarre but hilarious. Many horror fans will watch something based on a vibe regardless of its philosophical implications, because you don't have to agree with a film in order for it to scare you. I think this is why The Conjuring franchise is so popular even though I suspect horror fans lean further left than a lot of other filmgoers.
So the ultimate result of this is that fundamentally conservative art is more likely to be observed and discussed by people further to the left than the artist, just like this social media post. This is important, because ideas should be seen and discussed so that we can openly decide which ones are hot garbage, just like the original anonymous message. And I think it's also important because if we only acknowledge and boost what we disagree with that actually has artistic merit, the overall marketplace of ideas still benefits by examining different perspectives without admitting the ones that amount to inarticulate screaming at a minority group.
This is especially important to me because it's how I was de-radicalized as a young person from my very right-wing conservative upbringing - by interacting with critical examination of ideas in art as well as by meeting real people that did not reflect the demonized image of minorities that I grew up around. I think both of those things are important to those that process. And that can't happen unless someone drags forward anonymous pieces of artful hate into the light of day so that we may submit them to the dissecting pins and scalpel of real criticism.
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Normally, I just block people and leave their nonsense unposted... but this is art.
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greengoblinswifey · 3 days ago
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Only Yours— Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
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summary— based on this request.
warnings— jealous!reader, possessive!reader, sub!nicholas, ass slapping and grabbing, praise kink, marking, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, oral, begging, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff
You had agreed to go to the party, but only because your boyfriend asked you to. Frat parties weren’t usually your scene, but the way Nicholas’ eyes had lit up when he asked you had made it impossible to say no. And besides, having his hand on you while you danced together, his fingers resting on your hip and sometimes wandering to squeeze your ass, made it all worth it.
At one point, you left him to go to the bathroom and grab a drink. You got caught up chatting with a friend, which took a bit longer than you expected. When you turned back toward where you left Nicholas, your heart sank a little. A group of three girls had surrounded him, clearly flirting and trying to get his attention. One was pulling on his hand, another had her hand on his shoulder, and the third was leaning in way too close, laughing a little too loudly.
You watched as he tried to politely shrug them off, his expression nervous. He looked around, clearly uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude. You could see him saying something that must have hinted at you because all three girls suddenly glanced over in your direction. They seemed disappointed but finally backed off, one even winking at him before walking away.
When you made your way over to him, he turned and saw you, his eyes widening. “I—oh my god, I am so sorry, I didn’t know what to do! I tried to tell them, really, but they just kept going and I- I didn’t want to be rude—”
“Nicholas,” you interrupted softly, reaching up to touch his arm. “I know. I know you’re innocent and I know it wasn’t your fault.” You could feel your heart pounding a little, not just from the jealousy that had been building but from how sweet he looked, his face all worried. His cheeks flushed as he took in your words.
The party eventually died down, and you both left to head back to your dorm room, Nicholas still looking at you guiltily every few minutes as you walked. “I swear, I tried to tell them right away. I didn’t even know what to do when they got so close like that.”
“Nicholas,” you cut him off with a sigh, squeezing his hand. “It’s fine. You’re sweet for worrying, but really, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He could still sense something simmering under the surface.
He gave you a relieved smile but still looked a bit nervous. “I just, I don’t want you to think I was interested in them. I only have eyes for you.”
As you both got settled in your room, Nicholas seemed to sense there was still something lingering between you two. He watched you carefully, brow furrowed a little as if he was trying to read your mind. “Hey, uh, are you jealous?” he asked quietly, giving you a knowing look. He knew you far too well for you to brush it off.
You sighed, unable to hold back the truth. “Maybe just a little.”
He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. “You? Jealous?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, trying not to laugh at the way he seemed genuinely stunned. “But honestly, it’s fine, because I’m the one who gets to be with you tonight. Not them.”
His cheeks flushed, and he looked down shyly, a small smile playing on his lips. “I mean, that’s true.”
You leaned in close, your voice low and confident. “And now I’m going to show you who you really belong to, because it’s me, not any of those bitches, or anyone else.”
His breath hitched, and you could feel him tense a little, his eyes searching yours. Before he could say anything, you climbed into his lap, letting your hands trail up his shoulders. You captured his mouth in a slow, deep kiss, then moved down to his neck, leaving soft kisses and feeling his pulse quicken under your lips. You found the spot where he was most sensitive, and as you started to leave little marks along his skin, you could feel him shiver, his hands coming up to hold onto you, his breaths coming quicker.
He let out a quiet moan as you left a trail of kisses and a few dark red marks down his neck. “When they see you tomorrow,” you whispered with a smirk, “they’re going to know exactly who you belong to.”
As you held Nicholas close, you leaned in with a teasing smile. “Now, be a good boy and take our clothes off,” you whispered, watching his eyes go wide with anticipation. He started with you, his hands steady as he carefully helped you out of each piece, his gaze lingering with admiration. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, eyes soft as they traveled over you.
He reached for the hem of his own shirt, but you gently stopped him, meeting his gaze. “Let me,” you said firmly. “No one else is ever going to get to do this, just me. You belong to me.”
His breath caught, and he nodded, allowing you to take control, each piece of clothing removed with a deliberate slowness that made the anticipation build between you. When he was fully naked, you let him sink back, feeling his trust and warmth radiate as you knelt down in front of him.
You took ahold of his hard cock, stroking while you took him deep. His breaths grew shaky, and his hands instinctively gripped the sheets as you took your time, letting every reaction, every soft whimper he made, guide you.
“Tell me,” you murmured between movements, voice low. “Who’s making you feel good?”
“You are,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper, his whole body shuddering under your touch.
“Fuck, and who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?” you asked, sliding your mouth slowly off him.
“Ah- only- only you Y/N,” he gasped. You felt his balls tighten and his fists gripped the sheets harder signaling he was close to his end.
“Now be a good boy and cum for me.”
As he finally released, his eyes met yours with intensity. You leaned up, pressing a rough, lingering kiss to his lips, and felt him relax under your touch, his hands finding your tits as you both held each other close.
“Can I eat your pussy?” he asked, a pleading look in his eyes.
“Why do you think you deserve to taste me?” you teased.
“Um— because I, uh, because I belong to you, you own me and I have to make you feel good, I want you to,” he said, stuttering.
“Wow, you’re learning. Well then get on your knees and do it.”
You switched positions, Nicholas going on his knees and you took his position in bed. You were soaked for him as he pried your legs open, marveling at the sight before him. He attached his mouth to your clit, sucking like he had a point to prove. He did. He was showing you he belonged to you. No other woman would feel what he was giving you.
“That’s my good boy, don’t stop baby,” you moaned, your hips bucking and your hand gripping his hair roughly.
He winced at the pain as you dragged him by his hair on where you wanted his tongue but the pain was his pleasure. He sucked your clit with such ferocity, you couldn’t hold back even if you wanted to.
“You make me feel so good, I’m gonna cum on your tongue baby,” you whimpered.
You gripped his hair roughly, pressing his face against your pussy as it quivered and your release ripped through you. Panting, he sucked every drop of you, gripping under your thighs as your toes curled and his name was on your lips like a prayer.
You pulled him up by his neck as soon as your high subsided, your eyes locking with his. He gasped as you shoved him hard onto the bed, the intensity in your gaze made his pulse race. Though he was used to your dominant side, something in your movements tonight left him wide-eyed and blushing.
You climbed on top of him with a look that silenced any thoughts he might have had. “Let this be a constant reminder,” you murmured, running a finger down the dark red marks on his neck then resting your hand around it possessively, “of who the fuck belong to.” His face flushed, and he nodded, breathless, clearly under your spell.
As you sank onto him, his hands gripped your waist instinctively, holding on like he’d fall apart otherwise. His gaze flickered between your eyes, filled with admiration and a hint of that familiar shyness.
You ignored the burning stretch you felt, bouncing roughly on his cock as his moans grew louder and louder.
“B-baby, please s-slow down, god, I’m gonna—”
“Shut up and take it,” you murmured, your hand squeezing his throat harder and making his head spin.
Your ass slammed onto his cock, the feeling making him gasp and plead, he wasn’t going to last long.
“Please baby, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed.
“You don’t cum unless I tell you to, take whatever I give you.” He nodded his head frantically, not wanting to disobey you. Your hips moved in a circular motion driving him crazy as he focused all his energy on holding back the cum threatening to explode from his cock.
You licked the side of his face making his eyes roll back and he knew if you didn’t tell him to cum soon, no matter how much he tried, he wouldn’t be able to hold it.
“Oh fuck, you always stretch me so well,” you moaned, your hips grinding on his cock.
He couldn’t even form a sentence if he wanted to, all he could do was moan and sniffle, tears pricking the corner of his eyes as the pleasure become too much.
“Hold me Nick,” you moaned.
He did as he was told and your body shook as you came all over his cock. The feeling of your juices drenching him made him sob and plead.
“Please Y/N, please, please, please baby, just let me cum, just this once,” he begged.
You leaned down, your voice soft but firm. “Since you’re begging so nicely, cum inside me,” you whispered, placing a soft bite along his jawline. He drew in a shaky breath, as if he’d been waiting to hear that.
“T-thank you, thank you so much, you’re so incredible.
He moaned deeply, the sound going straight to your throbbing pussy and he squeezed your ass, bucking his hips up as he practically exploded inside you. He whimpered and sobbed, his cum seeming to be never ending. You didn’t think he had ever cum that much in one sitting.
You held him close to you as he shivered underneath your touch, his cock still twitching and throbbing inside you.
“Wow, you came so much, my sweet boy, you did so good for me.”
You kissed all over his sweaty face, wiping the small tears that rolled down his cheeks as he stared at you in complete awe.
Easing off his cock, you both gasped and he watched as his cum oozed out of your pussy. You lay beside him, bringing his head onto your chest and he held you close, his breathing slowly going back to normal.
“I definitely know who owns me now,” he chuckled breathlessly, “and m’sorry again, I’ll do more next time.”
You only responded with a smile, kissing his forehead then his lips, a silent acceptance.
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forever-rogue · 2 days ago
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Your fics kill me and bring me back to life queen! Requesting Joel and fem!reader almost dying from a clicker attack; Joel and her end up getting blood stained, give each other a bath in the same tub, and talk about what’s to come.
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AN | This concept is both so sad but so soft ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 1.9k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Both you and Joel were covered in blood, guts, and bits of brain. 
You’d been doing your best not to cry, trying to remain somewhat composed but it was hard. The tears were welling up in your eyes but none of them had managed to roll down your cheeks just yet. You were fighting them back; you knew that once the tears started it would open the floodgates and all the pent up emotions would come right out. 
Joel, meanwhile, looked almost…fine. Not fine, but not like you, ready to fall apart at any moment. You supposed that he was more used to it, the violence and gore, while you were still fairly…unfamiliar. Admittedly, you had very little ‘real’ world experience compared to Joel. You knew that one day, you’d probably come across the infected, but you hadn’t expected that it would come close to costing you your life. 
Your partner had been all but silent as he sprang into action to help save you while you panicked, screamed, and cried, probably attracting almost everything around you. Joel had remained the image of cool and collected as he took them all down to make sure you were safe. 
Once you were safe and accounted for, he’d hauled you to your feet and started making his way back home, keeping you close behind. Neither of you spoke a word, the silence loud enough to speak volumes. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got back to the home you shared with Joel, you felt like you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. You closed the door behind the two of you, before leaving against it and sliding to the floor, in a small heap of sobs. You weren’t able to contain the emotions any longer and they all spilled out at once. You didn’t even care that you were dirty and smelly, you just couldn’t be bothered to keep going at that moment. 
Joel had already started making his way upstairs but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard your first sob. He turned back around and quickly made his way over to you, dropping to his knees right to see what was going on.
“Hey,” he whispered softly, reaching for your face and gently taking it in his hands. He hated to see you crying, especially right now, when you had just had a near death experience. Joel brushed your tears away, trying to hide his frown when he noticed all the grime and blood still sticking to your skin. He wished you hadn’t had to experience such a thing; he’d tried to protect but failed. He could have, should have, done more, “baby, you’re alright. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
You managed a small nod, your lip trembling as a few more tears ran down your cheeks. Joel gently shushed you before pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you. With the little energy and strength you had remaining, you hugged him back, burying your face into his chest. He held you for a while, letting you get out your tears, and occasionally offering you a few gentle words of reassurance. When you felt like you were all dried up and your throat was raw, you pulled back and looked at him with puffy, red eyes and a forlorn expression on your face. 
“You’re going to be okay,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I swear it.”
“Joel,” you managed to choke out his name, “I…today...it was horrible.”
“I know,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, his heart hurting for what you had just been through. He’d gone through it enough times himself and had gotten to the point where he had become almost numb to it all. It was a horrible thing really, to become so desensitized to actions that had once been considered carnage. He was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t much to say and he couldn’t just turn back time, “it becomes easier over time, but I don’t want it to become easier for you. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”
“But,” you looked at him with wide eyes as you grabbed his hands and held them tightly in yours. You’d been so caught up in your own woes that you hadn’t even considered how Joel could have been feeling, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he offered you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, that didn’t quite feel genuine, “I’m alright.”
“Are you?” your question came softly, whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He paused for a moment before hanging his head and giving it a gentle shake. You breathed in softly and exhaled through your nose before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug, squeezing him with everything you had, “I love you.”
“I love you,” he murmured softly as he buried himself in you, breathing in your soft scent and allowing it to wash over him.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
After a short while, you slowly untangled yourselves before making your way upstairs to the bathroom. You were almost desperate to get the dirt and grime and whatever else was on your body so you could feel like a human again. 
When you got upstairs and into the bathroom, Joel immediately turned on the shower, getting it just as warm as you liked. He turned to you, slowly and reverently starting to peel off your clothes. You lifted your arms as so he could remove your shirt, a small sound escaping your lips as the cloth stuck to a few of the superficial wounds you’d managed to obtain. It already felt a million times better just to be free of your shirt, which was quickly followed by your bra. 
Joel’s touch was gentle as he undid the button of your jeans before helping you to step out of them and kicking them to the side to get them as far away as possible. Your underwear was next and you left standing there naked. It didn’t matter though; just shedding the layers allowed you to feel a million times better.
You wiped some of the grim from your face before motioning for Joel to step closer to you. He did so, his face becoming more gentle as he watched you. You reached for the hem of his henley, slowly pulling it over his head and tossing it into the pile of your clothes. Your lips pulled into a small frown when you realized that his ribs and shoulder were already starting to bruise. You trailed your fingers softly along his skin, tutting under your breath.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he insisted, which you knew was only for your benefit, “nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you insisted, reaching for his belt buckle and slowly undoing it before and tugging his jeans down his legs. Joel pulled down his boxers before kicking it all away, “I already feel better. Just having the gross clothes gone.”
He made a small sound in response before pulling the shower curtain back so you could get inside and under the warmth of water. You let out an audible sigh at the feeling of the warm water cascading all over your skin. Joel stepped in after you, shoulders sagging with relief that the day was over and that you were both home safe. 
“C’mere,” he grabbed your shoulders and tenderly traded places with you. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his hand before moving to wash your hair. You tried to ignore the water that was running off your bottles and red swirls that ran down the drain. It was over and you were okay. Joel started to lather the shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp just how he knew you loved. You had to work to keep in the moan that threatened to spill out of your mouth at the feeling. 
He worked in silence for a while as you tried to relax and forget about the horrors of the day. It was when he was about halfway through conditioning your hair, you realized that tears had run down your face. When you stepped under the water to rinse your hair, Joel wiped away your tears, which managed to bring the smallest smile to your face. 
Once your hair was washed, you went to reach for the bar of soap but Joel beat you to it, working quickly to get your body clean and wash away the rest of dirt and grime that had been left on your body.
“Thank you,” you whispered softly, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. The two of you stayed that way for a while, until you felt yourself start to get pruney, “come on, handsome. It’s my turn to get you all clean.”
Joel knew better than to argue with you, and admittedly loved getting his hair washed just as much as you did. You took your time to make sure he was just as clean as you were, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulders and neck. At one point, he took your face in his hands and kissed you until you were breathless. You let him hold you until the water ran cold and both of you were ready to get into pajamas and get into bed. 
Once you got out of the shower and dried off, you stole a shirt and a pair of boxers from Joel and slipped into them before getting into bed for some much needed rest. Joel followed suit and quickly joined you in the bed, letting out a groan at the comfort of being clean and in bed with you. 
He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm frame so he was your big spoon.  You put your hand on top of his and offered it a gentle squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you responded, “thank you for protecting me today. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done without you today. I might be-”
“Shh,” he cut you off, “don’t say anything else. You don’t have to. We’re here now, safe.”
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat in an effort not to cry, “I’m glad for that.”
“Me too,” he promised, “me too.”
It wasn’t long after that until you both managed to fall asleep. 
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harknessxo · 3 days ago
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Needy
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Paring: Dom!Agatha Harkness x reader
Summary: Agatha finds you touching yourself without permission when she got off work and gives you a much needed punishment.
Warnings; mean agatha, mistress kink, belt spanking, fingering, blowjob, strap on use, edging, aftercare.
Word Count: 2.9k
A/n: I came up with this idea randomly and started writing along with Cigarettes at the Window.
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Agatha had you naked over her lap, her fingers deep inside your greedy cunt. She had been edging you for what felt like hours and while you were under her merciless torture she simply talked over the phone. How did you get yourself in this situation you may ask? Well it is very simple.
See Agatha has a set of rules for you, one of them being that you couldn’t touch yourself without permission. Usually that wasn’t a problem but Agatha hadn’t touched you in days, too busy to do so and today you felt needier than usual while she was at work. You tried to distract yourself from the ache between your legs but you couldn’t. You decided to call her which was against another rule of hers. You weren’t allowed to call her while she was at work unless it was an emergency.
She wasn’t happy when she heard your excuse for the call and refused you any type of release saying that she would deal with you when she got home. You whined, trying to protest but she had already hung up. You sighed in frustration. The wetness between your legs only grew and you desperately needed to cum. So against all odds you decided to take off your clothes, lay back on your bed and started fingering yourself.
You moved your hands down your body, moaning Agatha’s name while you did so. You pinched your nipples, imagining it was her pinching them instead. You were so caught up in your own pleasure you didn’t hear Agatah coming home. She had gotten out of work early to give you a little surprise. She knew you were extra needy today after all her neglect and was ready to give you all the orgasms you wanted until she found you moaning in your shared bed, your fingers knuckles deep inside you.
She watched as you touched yourself in bed, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and annoyance. She smirked as she slowly made her way over to you, standing by the edge of the bed and staring down at you, a disappointed look on her face.
“And to think I was coming home to give you a reward,” her voice rang through the room. You jumped up, startled by her voice, quickly taking your now soaked fingers out of your cunt. She chuckled, seeing you jump. She placed a hand on her hip and tutted at you, shaking her head in disapproval.
“What did I say about touching yourself?” She questioned as she sat down on the bed beside you, her eyes looking over your body.
“Aggie I’m sorry I-” She held up a hand, silencing you mid sentence. She wasn’t in the mood to hear your excuses. She had given you plenty of time to be good but instead you decided to disobey her. She was going to make sure you remembered who was in charge.
“Save it. You’ve already been a very bad girl,” she said as she ran a hand up your back before she pulled your head back roughly, leaning down towards your ear, “and you deserve a punishment. Now get on your knees,” she basically threw you on the floor and you scrambled to get on your knees. Your eyes were on the floor as you waited for her next command. You knew you had messed up big time but you were so needy.
She chuckled as she sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at you on your knees. She placed her foot under your chin and lifted your head up, forcing you to look up at her. She smirked as she looked down at you, enjoying the look of submission on your face.
“Look at you. So desperate for my attention,” she teased.
“I’m sorry for disobeying you, mis-mistress,” you stuttered out, trying to get on her good side. She chuckled once again at the way you stuttered, your submissive side really coming out.
“A simple apology isn’t going to cut it, pet. You’re still getting a punishment but,” ran her foot down your neck and to your chest, “I want to put that mouth to good use while I think of one.” You watched her intensely as she took off her blazer, rolling up her sleeves and started unbuckling her dress pants. She let them fall to her ankle before stepping out of them. Your lips parted at the sight. She smirked knowingly, loving the way you were practically drooling for her. She stepped forward and stood in front of you, a hand resting on your head as she looked down at you.
“Such a needy little thing,” she said, running her fingers through your hair before grabbing a handful and tugging it back, forcing you to look up at her once again, “Now get to work,” she shoved your face into her cunt. You were quick to put your mouth to work, wanting to make her feel good. You watched as her eyebrows frowned in pleasure, balancing herself on the edge of the bed.
She let out a low moan as you got to work on her, her grip on your hair tightening as she held your head in place. Her other hand grabbed the edge of the bed, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping it.
“Mmh, that’s it,” she panted out, “That’s a good little slut. Don’t you dare stop.” You didn’t plan to anyway. You focused on her clit, sneakily slipping your fingers inside her but she tsked. She smacked your hand away when she felt your fingers try to slip inside of her, grabbing your wrist tightly.
“Did I say you could use your fingers, pet?” she said, pulling your head back once again.
“N-no-“
“No, what?” She asked, her grip on your wrist and hair still firm as she held you back. She stared down at you with a smirk, waiting for your response.
“No, mistress.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, releasing your wrist and pushing your head back between her legs. She pushed her hips against your face, fucking herself with your tongue.
“Keep going, just your tongue.” You tried your best as she kept using you as a toy for pleasure. Agatha’s breathing got heavier as she continued to grind herself against your tongue. Her hand gripped your hair tightly, her hips rocking back and forth as she rode your face. She was getting close, her moans becoming more frequent and louder.
“Fuck. I’m almost done, pet. Keep that mouth open for me,” she panted out and with a couple more thrusts, she came in your mouth. She held your head against her as she came, her thighs clenching around your head as her orgasm washed over her. She let out a loud moan as she rode out her high, slowly starting to come down from it. She gently patted your head as she looked down at you, panting slightly.
“Good girl,” she praised, “Swallow,” she commanded and you obediently swallowed down her juices, humming at her taste. She smiled as you did as she asked, seeing the eagerness in your eyes as you licked her clean.
“Look at you. You’re so desperate for my taste, huh?” She teased as she ran her fingers through your hair gently this time, enjoying the way you worshiped her, “Now come along, pet. You still have a punishment to take.” She said walking out the room towards the living room but not before taking her belt with her. You whimpered when she took her belt. Why couldn’t you have just waited like a good girl? She took a seat on the couch and patted her lap, motioning for you to come over.
“Over my lap, pet,” she ordered, “Now.” You slowly walked over to her, crawling onto her lap. She placed her hand on your back, gently rubbing your skin. She then placed her belt in her lap, making sure you could see it.
“Do you know why you’re being punished, pet?” She asked, continuing to rub your back.
“…yes, mistress.”
“Say it,” she demanded, her belt coming down hard on your ass with a sharp smack.
“I touched myself without your permission…” you whimpered again when she repeated the action, trying to take the pain.
“Mhm, that’s right,” she said, giving your ass a squeeze as she continued to spank you, the sound of the belt echoing throughout the room. She made sure to leave a nice red welts on your skin.
“You’re so naughty. Can’t even keep your hands to yourself,” she scolded, landing another sharp hit to your ass.
“I’m sorry!” You cried out, tears staining your reddened cheeks.
“It’s too late for that now,” she said as she paused her spanking, gently rubbing the now reddened skin of your ass, “Put your hands behind your back,” she commanded, picking up the belt and tying your hands behind your back.
“Now, I’m going to edge you until I see fit and you will remain as quiet as a mouse while I’m on the phone or I will spank you until you can’t sit for weeks, understood?” she said and you nodded meekly. She hummed, satisfied with your response. She slowly ran her hand over your sensitive, red skin, gently caressing it before slipping a finger between your legs, feeling just how wet you were for her.
“You’re soaking, darling. I wonder how many times you can take being denied,” she mocked as she teased your entrance then roughly thrusting her fingers inside your tight walls. And that’s how you ended up in this position. Sprawled over her lap, being denied any type of release.
She continued to tease you for the next hour, her fingers working in and out of your dripping cunt all while she talked to her friend Wanda on the phone. She would occasionally rub your clit, only to take it away and focus on your inner walls again, knowing it would drive you insane. She smirked as you tried to grind against her hand, knowing you were desperate for more but that you weren’t allowed to ask for it. Of course you couldn’t keep quiet for long which would lead to her having to spank you hard every now and then.
She would mute herself and chuckled every time she heard you moan or whine, knowing she was breaking you down. After each spank she would run her hand over the reddened skin, the heat coming off of it from the constant abuse. She loved how much of a mess you were in her lap. So desperate and needy, it was almost adorable to her.
“Mi-mistress?” You said after she hung up the phone, your voice trembling.
“Yes, pet?” She responded, pausing her movements for a moment as she looked down at you, her fingers still deep inside you.
“Please let me cum?” you begged. She hummed, pretending to think about it. She slowly started moving her fingers again, curling them inside you to hit your sweet spot.
“Oh darling, you think you deserve to cum after being such a bad girl?”
“I’ll be good from now on! Please?” You sobbed.
She chuckled again, her smirk growing wider at your begging. She pulled her fingers out of you, bringing them to her lips and sucking them clean. She then pulled your hair back, forcing you to look up at her.
“You’ll be good, hm? I’m not sure I believe you, pet. You’re a greedy girl, always wanting more. Can’t get enough of me,” she said as she ran her thumb over your lower lip.
“Please, mistress, please?”
“Such a pretty little beggar,” she cooed, still holding you by your hair. She let go and shoved you off her lap onto the floor, standing up and towering over you.
“On your knees,” she ordered, “Maybe if you’re good and do as you’re told, I’ll give you a reward.” She left the room for a moment and came back with a strap around her hips. You knew exactly what she was going to do and it made you even more wet. She walked over to you, standing in front of you with a smirk on her face. She grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at her.
“Now be a good girl and open that pretty little mouth of yours,” she said, gently rubbing the tip of the strap against your lips. You opened your mouth nice and wide, just how she liked it, and she shoved the strap in your mouth immediately thrusting her hips in and out of your mouth, making you gag right off the bat.
She let out a soft moan as she continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, even if she couldn’t feel it she loved the sight of your warm, wet mouth around her strap. She placed her hand on the back of your head, holding you in place as she looked down at you, her eyes dark with lust.
“That’s a good cockslut,” she said through her gritted teeth, “Take it all.” Tears started rolling down your cheeks from her strap hitting the back of your throat. It was making it hard to breathe but Agatha didn’t care. She liked to see you suffer the consequences of your actions.
She watched you intently, loving the way tears streamed down your face and the look of pure bliss on her own. She pushed her hips forward even more, forcing you to take her strap down your throat before roughly pulling your head back, ropes of saliva connecting your lips to her strap. You panted pathetically, trying to catch your breath.
“Such a messy girl,” she teased, leaning down to lick your tears before picking you up and bending you over the armrest of the couch, “You’re already stimulated enough, aren’t you?” She said into your ear and you nodded.
“Okay then,” she aligned the strap with your entrance, “You have fifteen seconds to cum or you’re not coming at all,” she said harshly into your ear and started pounding into you, mercilessly. She set a fast and rough pace, slamming into you over and over again. She grabbed your hips, digging her nails into your skin as she pulled you back onto her strap. She smirked as you cried out from the intense pleasure, loving the way you were struggling to hold yourself together.
“Fifteen…fourteen…thirteen…” she counted down which only made you more desperate to get over the edge. By the time she reached ten, you were practically sobbing with desperation. You were so close, the knot in your stomach was about to snap. She knew you were right on the edge and it was only a matter of time before you came undone for her.
She took pity in you and started rubbing your clit to help you reach your climax. She could feel your body starting to tremble as you neared your orgasm. She leaned over you, her chest pressing against your back as she continued to rub your clit in quick, tight circles. She nibbled on your earlobe as she whispered in your ear.
“Come on, darling. Cum for me. I know you can do it,”
“I’m coming!” She hummed in approval, continuing to thrust into you and rub your clit as you finally reached your climax. She held you tightly against her as your body trembled and spasmed with pleasure, her name falling from your lips like a prayer.
“T-thank you, m-mistress,” you stuttered out as you started to come down from your high. She slowed her pace, still holding your trembling body close to her as she helped you ride out your orgasm. She placed a few soft kisses on your neck, her grip on your hip slowly loosening as she let you catch your breath while helping you up into a sitting position.
“Such a good girl, my pretty little mess,” she said softly as she gently ran her fingers through your hair. You leaned into her soft touch. She smiled softly, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into her lap, holding you close. She placed a kiss on your forehead as she continued to pet your hair.
“How’s my favorite girl doing now?” She asked genuinely. She always checked on you after any rough activity you two did.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry for disobeying you.” She cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to look up at her. She gave you a gentle smile and shook her head.
“I’m not mad at you anymore, baby. But you know I don't like when you disobey me,” she said as she gently rubbed her thumb over your cheek.
“I know. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She chuckled softly, still holding your face gently in her hands.
“You always say that,” she teased as she pinched your cheek lightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make a point, “and yet here we are, after your naughty behavior, my dear.”
“I can’t help it…” you whined. She chuckled again, this time a bit more darkly. She leaned forward, her lips hovering over yours as she spoke in a low tone.
“I know you can’t. You’ve always been a needy brat but that’s what makes punishing you so much sweeter.”
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Taglist; @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @mgruiz @daenerys713
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justwinginglife · 2 days ago
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No One But You
Food for the @pixelcafe-network
Sylus lay in a pool of his own blood, clutching the gunshot wound you had carved into his heart, muttering about betrayal and deceit in his final moments.
You rolled your eyes.
“Yesterday’s death was a hell of a lot more creative, Sylus.”
He sat up straight, scoffing. “Can’t help if the source material is unoriginal to start with. The best you could do was a gunshot wound today? Really?”
“That’s because I wasn’t trying to kill you, stupid.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what do you call plowing a bullet through my chest?”
You crossed your arms. “I call that trying to shut you up. Although, I suppose that didn’t work so well either, because then you prattled on about what a traitor I was and how you never saw this coming. Which, in my humble opinion, was laying it on too thick. You always see everything coming, don’t act like a victim.”
He chuckled and with a snap of his fingers, any trace of his blood or his wound had vanished. “What can I say, I like theatrics.”
“And I like my bosses to be less dramatic and less alive.” 
He stood to meet your gaze, tsking at you as he tucked a finger under your chin. “Now, now, kitten. We’ve been having such a grand time together the last few months.”
You waved his hand away but he caught your wrist. You knew once he had you in his grasp, you weren’t getting out until he chose to let you go so you stopped resisting. He smirked, pleased at your submission.  
Sighing, you grumbled, “Sy- you’ve got a 1 o clock meeting and I’ve yet to thoroughly vet them, so eventually you’ll have to let me go.”
He yanked you closer to him. “I highly doubt my favorite assassin would forget to vet anybody. I’m sure you already had him in your sights long before I made the meeting, am I correct?”
You met his brazen gaze with a fierce look of your own. “I suppose now that you know all my secrets, I really will have to kill you.”
He chuckled and kissed your knuckles. “Looking forward to it.”
Asshole.
He knew that you knew you couldn’t kill him if you tried, because you’d already tried. Many, many times. 
You’d met him months back when you’d attempted to snipe him from a rooftop. You were the best in the assassination business, but something about this cheeky bastard who had the nerve to grin into your oculars right as you pulled the trigger had you feeling like an amateur again. And when he materialized beside you right after you’d supposedly shot him, offering employment rather than retaliation, you knew he wasn’t taking you seriously at all. How could the head of Onychinus allow an assassin to walk right into his headquarters, to eat and drink beside him, to sleep in the room next door, knowing he had a hefty bounty on his head that she intended to collect, and not bat an eye? He was some other beast entirely and you weren’t sure how to react.
Of course it made you feel valued to know that he only entrusted his most important missions to you -he’d say something along the lines of “there’s no one else who can do the job but you” and you’d roll your eyes but oblige him- but he must’ve still thought you were somewhat incompetent if he willingly allowed you to take a shot at trying to kill him everyday. And then there was the matter of his obvious flirting. 
The way he always had your favorite wine laid out for you after a mission -you weren’t sure who he’d tortured for this information- or the way he always made sure to take you on missions with him that involved dressing up so he could admire your figure -not like he wasn’t already admiring it on a daily basis in your usual getup- or even the way he purred his little pet names in your ear, pet names that he didn’t seem to give to anyone else but you. 
Some small part of you even wondered if maybe he loved you. But the rest of you knew that he probably didn’t even know what love was. The rest of you knew that he was probably toying with you. But what was he waiting for? For you to no longer be useful? For you to fall for him? For you to give up on killing him? What did he want? 
The man had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen but you would never know what was going on behind them. 
And it killed you to admit that he was beautiful. Rule number one of assassination was to not get attached to your target, but here you were, toasting him over dinner every night, admiring the curve of his lips, admiring the broadness of his shoulders, admiring the way his fingers held a wine glass, like you hadn’t spent decades training to be the monster you were known to be, like you were just some school girl hanging onto some jock’s every word. 
He probably knew it too.
He liked to tease you; it was like his own personal form of entertainment. 
He liked to intertwine his fingers in between yours like you hadn’t just used those very same fingers to try and strangle him only moments before. He liked to tuck your hair behind your ear, pinch your sides, pin down your wrists, tilt up your chin, anything so he could touch you. He liked to murmur your name, your real name, the name you hadn’t been called in years, the name you weren’t sure how he’d uncovered, over and over like a prayer, until you had to excuse yourself from dinner because you weren’t used to the gentleness in his voice. And then he liked to repeat the cycle over and over again, until you weren’t sure how you felt anymore, until you weren’t sure who you were anymore. 
“Bastard.” You muttered under your breath.
“Trying to hurt my feelings?” Sylus snaked his arms around your waist. 
“It was never my intention to hurt you, dear Sylus, only kill you.” You responded innocently.
He chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. “That’s my girl.”
God, he couldn’t keep saying this shit to you.
“Not your girl, Sy.” You retorted, shaking him off of you.
“And why not? You could be.” His eyes gleamed mischievously.
In an instant you had a knife pinned to his throat. “Because of this. Because you’re nothing more to me than a target and I’m nothing more to you than a toy.”
He leaned in closer to you, allowing the metal to pierce his skin, drawing blood. “Well if it makes you feel better, there’s no one I’d rather have kill me  but you.”
You laughed at that, withdrawing your knife. “Should I feel honored? And how does one even respond to that- there’s no one I’d rather have toy with me but you? God, work on your lines Sylus, you’re so cliche. You have a 2 o clock meeting, so get to it.” You shoved him off of you.
Grinning, he sauntered off to his next meeting with you guarding his back like you always did. And when his 2 o clock tried to kill him, he kept that same stupid grin on his face as he watched you pin the man underneath you in a matter of seconds, cuffing his hands together so tightly they bruised. 
“Is it appropriate to say I’m feeling jealous right now, kitten?” He chuckled.
You scoffed. “No, Sylus, it is not.”
“And what if I said there’s no one I’d rather have pin me down than you?”
“Still not appropriate.”
The man underneath you groaned. “If you two are going to keep flirting or bickering or whatever this is, could you kill me already?”
You smacked his head with the butt of your gun. “Shut up, we’re trying to talk here.” 
“Feisty. I love it when you talk like that, kitten.” Sylus ran his hand through your hair, the way he always did, admiring the way the strands felt in between his fingers. 
“Funny, I love when you stop talking, Sy.”
The man squirmed beneath you again. “I’m serious, please just kill me already.”
“I said shut up, my god.” You tightened his cuffs. 
But this time the man was annoyed. “He’s toying with you, you’re toying with him, we get it already. A man like Sylus is never gonna truly love you so can you please quit flirting an ki-” 
You shot him in the head. “Did I not say to shut up?”
You had intended to keep him alive for information, but you had to admit his comment hit a little too close to home. You already knew Sylus was never going to love you, but was it that obvious to a random bystander? The thought pissed you off.
Sylus sighed. “And now I’m going to have to get the carpet cleaners in here.”
“You really should keep the company of quieter people.”
“And you should know when a man is baiting you.”
You scoffed, standing to leave. “And what’s that supposed to mean? I know when I’m being played, you do it all the time.”
“You’re so gullible sometimes, kitten. You’d really believe what a random hitman says?” He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and tucked one hand underneath your chin, drawing your gaze to him. 
“I don’t believe what anyone says.”
“Yet you’d kill him for saying I could never love you? Interesting way of showing you don’t believe him.”
You glared at him, anger flaring in your gut. You attempted to wrench yourself away from him but he only pulled you tighter against him. “Sylus, let go already. Enough of this. I’m tired.” You snapped.
“Haven’t I already told you? There’s no one else for me but you.”
“Sylus, quit saying shit like that.” 
“Right, you don’t like when I talk. Well then, how about this?” In a matter of seconds, his lips had found their way to yours, molding his passion and persistence into you. 
You bit his lip in annoyance but it only fueled him more.
He chuckled against your mouth and claimed your tongue with his. His hands rested on the small of your back, possessively holding you in place against him. After properly swallowing down your moans and devouring all your desire, he finally pulled away to allow you some breath.
“Fine.” You whispered, still dizzy from his kiss. 
He smirked, nuzzling up against your ear, as he murmured, “Fine what?”
“Fine. There’s no one else for me but you. Happy?”
“Immensely.” 
He kissed you again and didn’t stop kissing you all night.
Taglist: @tbaluver
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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
first and foremost, the color scheme for this series is GORGEOUS, the purple pairs well with the angst of the series and i’m so ready for it (also so proud that u learned how to get the gradient function!! ☺️)
secondly, how DARE u not tag me i am flabbergasted, heartbroken, overlooking the golden gate bridge rn
ANYWAYS, i have seven minutes before lecture starts so here’s my lousy and incoherent annotations below ⬇️
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
i’m so ready to see how toxic this can get
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
love a reader who knows what she wants and goes after it
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
oh god
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
my stomach is doing flips
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
i would need a gun
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
i would crash out so hard rn
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
SICKENING
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. Nome of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
i support women’s wrong to do mass destruction
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
THIS IS MAKING ME UNBELIEVABLY SICK
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
this paragraph is so beautifully-crafted i had to highlight it - okay back to our regularly scheduled program
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
TOXICITY’S FINEST COUPLE
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
exactly he’s YOURS (mine…?)
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
you fucking NARC
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
she’s so me
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
oh my god i fear i need her to do the best revenge arc
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
again, i’m always in awe of ur descriptions it makes me so giggly and excited to see how well u constructed ur setting
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
should’ve bought a glock w those pregnancy tests - i would start TWEAKING so hard
💌 — this fic is BEAUTIFUL (ohmygod my professor arrived, let me make this QUICK) i absolutely love how u created this atmosphere of anger, resentment, desperation and neediness. because u captured the angst incredibly well, and how u built up to it—the aches, the emotions—were well-paced and made you feel everything on a deeper, more slowburn way. i also LOVE how the interconnectedness of how topper and rafe are best friends, and she’s his COUSIN, and how this man SNITCHED to rafe when she was driving away. i love-hate that scene bc it builds so much more tension, but i would be fucking pissed at topper. lastly, as always your descriptions are one of my favorite parts of your writing and i highlighted them for my annotations. so so PROUD of u for starting this series and i will make u complete even if its the last thing i do 🔪
LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst)
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The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.
It had been a long month.
Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.
Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.
You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing
You weren’t stupid.
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.
"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.
You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.
You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.
“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.
What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.
“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.
“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”
You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.
“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
And then you heard hers. No fucking way.
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
She was there, with him.
You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.
There they were.
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
You froze.
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?
Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.
It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.
That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.
What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.
But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. Nome of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.
Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"
You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”
He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”
You hated saying her name.
Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.
Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.
“Did everyone fucking know?”
Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”
Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.
You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”
He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”
But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”
That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.
He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.
The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?
Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?
All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."
You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.
But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.
And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.
“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?
But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.
Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.
You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.
Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."
The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.
But then…
You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.
Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.
You hadn’t had your period in… so long.
Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.
You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."
How could you not have noticed?
Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"
You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.
You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.
“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.
He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.
Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.
"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.
You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”
He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.
You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."
The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.
Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.
You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.
Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.
You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.
“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.
You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”
“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”
Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.
You just needed to get out of here.
“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.
And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.
Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.
While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.
You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.
The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.
You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.
The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?
You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.
You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.
You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.
You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.
Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?
Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?
It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.
You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.
The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.
Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.
Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.
This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.
You were tired.
Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.
Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.
Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.
Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.
All of this would go away.
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TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei @stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt
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becomingmina · 3 days ago
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THAT DAMN PIERCING. w/ YANG JEONGIN
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18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: yang jeongin x female reader genre + warnings: smut mdni!, dry humping wc: 610 mina's note: that earring pic of jeongin got me feeling some sort of way. i have been slacking off sorry
other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.
"You really like it that much?" He chuckles, hands guiding your hips as you lightly rut against him.
“Like it?” You detach your lips from his neck, eyebrows furrowed at him. “Baby? I love it," you squeal. "I love it so much." You cup his cheeks in your hands and moved your face closer to his ear. You once again examined the lotus earring just sitting perfectly on him.
“I can tell," he replies, his hands guide your hips harder against him this time getting a whimper out of you.
You press your lips on his, muffling a moan at the ache in your cores meeting. “Jeongin- I love it so much,” he now meets you halfway with the grinding, creating such a delicious friction at a slow pace.
“So lovely, all up on me because of this damn piercing,” he chuckles. “If I knew it was going to turn you into this much, I would have got it earlier,” he squeezed your ass.
“You turn me on no matter what,” you defend yourself, the pace picking up now.
“Liar,” he smirks then raises up an eyebrow as he waits for you to defend yourself. You feel yourself blush as you try so hard to cover up how much the piercing is making you feel. You had no choice but to tell him.
“It looks hot.. it makes your jawline more.. sharp..” your finger dedicatedly tracing along his jaw. “I don’t know what it is, but you just look so sexy.” You blurt, feeling a bit vulnerable admitting this. “And I want to feel it on skin when you kiss my neck.”
“Yeah?” he gets cocky, hands making their way back to your hips. “You would love the feeling of it touching your skin?” he teases.
You nod before you throw your head back at the pleasure cause by the friction between your bodies. He starts to get impatient as well grinding harder up on you. Your hand latches onto his scalp pulling him closer to you and he gives you taste of what you have been craving for so long, nipping at your skin on your neck making his earring brush against your cheek. The sensation of something new in such a heated moment like this makes you reach your orgasm fast, but with gentle moans. (Y/N very demure, very mindful)
Jeongin continues to help you ride out your high, smirking at you cumming in your pants. He slows you down now, hugging you so you’re close to him, where the damn earring is still touching you.
“Feels so good Jeongin,” you managed to get out before pulling back to look at him.
“That was hot,” he coos, combing your hair away from your face.
You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and giggle when he starts to chase you for more. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”
“Then give me one more darling,” he says, pulling at the hem of your shirt.
“Only if you cum with me,” you challenged.
“That’s the plan,” he replies, pulling your shirt over your head exposing your lacy bra. He bites his lips and leans back at the sight of your perfectly round boobs overflowing in your tight bra, a couple sizes too small.
He starts to feel up your sides, grinding himself up to you again. “Once it heals, I’m going change it to a dangly earring… would you like that?” He proposes, his thumb tracing over your bra where your nipple is covered.
You nod, “I would love that. So much.”
“I know you would baby… Come on then,” he encourages as you hump against his covered dick.
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achilles-rage · 2 days ago
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good luck charm: bonus drabble
come and get your love
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summary: after a hard day, you do something to cheer evan up.
word count: 1.6k
series masterlist
a/n: this might be stupid, but it was fun to write and i think it’s cute so sue me!! sigh, i miss good luck charm evan, and i'm sorry this took so long, i just couldn't think of any scenarios i really wanted to tell. if you have any drabble ideas for this series, i'm happy to hear them! enjoy<33
warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
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You’re in the bedroom putting away some laundry when you hear the front door slam, and you jump in surprise, a frown making its way onto your face immediately. You know exactly what that door slam means; Evan has had a bad day. 
“Hi, baby.” you say, peeking your head over the railing and looking at him in the kitchen getting some water. You offer him a small smile when he looks up at you, and although he gives you a smile back, you can tell it’s fake even from up in the loft. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you sigh sadly.
When you make it to the bottom of the stairs and walk towards him standing near the fridge, you wrap your arms around his neck and raise up onto your toes to give him a kiss. You feel the way he melts into your embrace, and it’s almost as if you can feel all of the stress radiating off of his body; it’s practically suffocating you, and you can’t even imagine how he feels.
“Rough day?” you ask, and he nods once, jaw clenched.
He’s been working extremely hard the past few weeks at the LAFD training academy, and while he comes home most days exhausted but content, there’s some days where he can get overwhelmed.
“You have no idea.” he tells you, his hands finding their way to your hips. You give him a sad smile, then pull him down for another kiss, hoping to get him to relax a little bit more.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He huffs at your question, thinking for a moment. He knows it would be better to get it out of his system, but he doesn’t want to dump it all on you. He knows how hard you’ve been working at your new job, and he doesn’t want you worrying about him as well.
“Hey, we don’t keep stuff in, that’s not what we do. You told me that.” you urge him softly when he doesn’t reply right away. He sighs, a smile fighting its way onto his face at your reminder. He nods after a moment, looking into your eyes and rubbing his thumb across your cheek.
“The physical stuff is fine, I’m passing everything easily. Just- The instructors say stuff; try to get into your head. It just got to me today.” he explains with a frown. You nod your head as he speaks, keeping your gaze locked with his. When he’s finished you tilt your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, but when he doesn’t, you raise your brows.
“Do you want to tell me what they said today that got you so worked up?” you urge. You don’t necessarily want to push him, but you know that he needs to talk it out, so you keep your eyes on him, as if pleading with him to tell you.
“We were doing this drill today, and there were a bunch of dummies. They gave them all back stories to make them feel real. I don’t know, I guess I just got caught up in it and in my mind they were real people, because they will be one day. I tried to go back into the building even when some of the other guys let the fire get out of hand because there were still a few dummies left in the building, and some guys had to hold me back.” he says in one big breath, and you follow along with furrowed brows, hoping he’ll continue.
“Well, they know I have you, and I guess they picked up on the fact that I was thinking about you the whole time; thinking about you in there. They were just saying stuff about me not being able to save you because of my mistakes, and about you having to plan my funeral because I got reckless on the job and I got myself killed.” he continues after a moment. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits for you to reply, and your eyes soften at his admission. 
You shake your head, bringing his head down to rest your foreheads against each other with your hand on the back of his neck. You keep him there for a moment in silence, trying to gather your thoughts before you reply.
“My love, your heart is what will make you a good firefighter. You care so much about people. And I have no doubt that you’d be able to save me if you had to, because you’re smart, and capable, and you love so deeply. And I’m not gonna lie, the thought of you getting hurt on the job has crossed my mind, but I know that you’re gonna fight to come home everyday, aren’t you?” He nods immediately, brows furrowing.
“Of course, I will. You know I will.” he replies, and you smile.
“Then I’m not too worried. Worry about actually finishing your training first, and then we’ll talk about you dying on the job, okay? Because I guarantee that when you start at an actual station, you’ll trust your team a lot more than the recruits. You can’t even imagine all the stories my dad has told me about the people he had to train with.” you tell him with a small laugh. You can still see a bit of hesitancy in his eyes as he tells you that you’re right, so you lead him to the couch and sit him down.
“I know exactly what you need.” you tell him when he sits down, then turn and grab your phone off the kitchen counter.
A small, real smile finally makes its way to his face when he sees you scrolling through your phone, knowing exactly what you’re about to do. When one of you has a bad day, the other always does something to make the other smile. He doesn’t even remember when or how this tradition started, but he does know that it always makes him smile regardless of how many times you do it.
His smile widens when he hears the beginning to Redbone’s Come and Get Your Love from the speaker connected to the tv, and you turn from your spot in the kitchen to face him.
You walk over to him as the beat starts, moving your shoulders in time with each step and fighting back a smile, and when the singing starts, you grab the tv remote off the coffee table and begin to lip sync into it.
He watches as you dance to the music with a wide smile, watching the way you move your hips in time with the music, and he can already feel himself start to feel better. He chuckles when you grab one of his hands and duck down to spin under his arm, and when you turn back to face him, you drop his hand and back up a few feet.
When the chorus starts, you continue lip syncing as you raise your hand in a “come here” motion, rolling your body in time with the beat. He gets up off the couch, keeping his eyes locked with yours, then grabs your hips, pulling you against him. 
You both sway to the music with smiles on your face. You can tell that he feels better, and you’re extremely grateful. You know how stressful the job can be, and you only hope you can help him through it as much as you can. 
The song finally ends, and he lifts you up with his hands going to the backs of your thighs, and you giggle as you wrap your legs around his waist.
“You always know what to do, princess.” he says with a grin, and all you can do is lean down to press your lips to his. 
“I know what else I can do to help you feel better.” you murmur against his lips. You feel his grip tightening on the back of your thighs, and he groans, pulling back from your lips to look at you with blown pupils.
“I’m keeping you in bed until tomorrow morning.” he teases, then sets you back down onto the ground. He then grabs your waist and turns you towards the stairs, then pushes you forward gently, but not before giving your ass a firm smack. You yelp at the contact, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder as he speaks.
“Go upstairs, princess. I’ll be right up.” 
“What are you doing?” you ask, but obey and walk towards the stairs.
“I’m ordering takeout, gonna see what I can do before it gets here.” he teases, and you laugh softly, rolling your eyes.
His eyes dart between your ass as you walk up the stairs, and his phone, and when he’s finally placed the order, he races up the stairs two at a time. 
He grins when he sees that you’re already naked, sprawled out on the bed and sitting up on your elbows waiting for him. He groans as he takes off his shirt, then unzips his pants, and then he’s on you in an instant, lips attaching to your neck.
“How could I do this without you, princess?” he whispers against your neck, goosebumps erupting on your skin as his hot breath hits your neck.
“You’d be lost without me.” you tease as you tilt your head back. You feel him grinding against you as he chuckles, and you lower your chin to meet his gaze when he leans back to look at you.
“Damn right, I would.”
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fluffylino · 1 day ago
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minho is felix's bestfriend and also happens to be your sworn enemy. he comes over one evening.
whats the worst that could happen...
-contains mature themes
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frustration.
pure frustration was what you were feeling. was it really this difficult to operate a toy?!
a damn vibrator that too. a simple little vibrator. internally embarassed by your lack of 'skills' in using it.
maybe you were pressing down on the wrong setting. cause everytime it reached the highest vibrations, it would go back to the lowest setting, a few seconds after.
you didn't even feel like continuing because of how pissed of you were. what a bad way to ruin your fun.
it had been month since you last felt like you should treat yourself. get yourself off to be very specific.
and when you decide to finally try out your very first vibrator, the universe decides its not your day.
stepping out of the bathroom, still uncomfortable with the sensitivity between your legs. unintentionally edging yourself and eventually giving up entirely on trying to make yourself cum.
you blamed it on the vibrator. that darned cursed object.
flinging it on the bed in annoyance.
a small little sticky note is placed on the lamp on your bedside table. its from felix.
he had yelled goodbye while you were still showering (more like struggling). and you had yelled back, acknowledging him.
i'll be going out with chris for an hour or so. minho-hyung will be coming to our room in 20 minutes. im sowwy but he really needed a place to chill at...seungmin is studying and needs no disturbances....so i told minho he could stay in our room for a couple hours.
don't worry, bubssss i'll be back soon so things don't get awkward between yall!!!
MAYBE TRY AND GET ALONG?!
- lixie ☆
now this pisses you off even more. why the hell was everything going exactly the opposite of what you wanted.
lee minho was the last person you'd want in your shared dorm room. minho was literally gonna be coming here.
it had been almost 15 minutes since felix left. that means he'd be here anytime soon. before you even get the chance to hang your towel on the back of your chair, someone knocks on the door.
"fuckin minho of all people"
its real frustration at this point. nevertheless you open the door for him. taken aback by the attire he's in.
it was the very first time you'd ever seen him so...put together? dressed up?
what you meant was he was in semi formal attire ; a mixture of badboy or rather biker boy vibes.
"whats up with the outfit" you say, gesturing to him entirely. pointing out the leather jacket he had thrown on. it fitted him well. a bit too well.
the ripped jeans hugged his thighs. thick and muscular. a reminder that he works out and is a dancer.
"do i need a reason to wear what i feel like wearing?"
his cockiness has your fists itching to punch him straight in the nose. he huffs out a deep breath, walking right into the room. as if he owned the place. he had been here a number of times with felix. but it still pissed you off.
"fuck off" you mutter under your breath. closing the door and walking back to your bed.
that is until you see him plopping himself down on your bed. YOUR BED.
"what'd you say?" minho repeats. he has a few raspberries in his hand.
did he carry them all across campus..to eat them here ? you sometimes question his questionable habits and ways of thinking.
"don't feel like telling you" you cock back. placing your hands on your face and sighing.
were you that needy that for some reason his cologne made your breath fasten-
"what's gotten you so..." his voice trails off, beginning to question why you were so irritable. "...hot and bothered."
"i am not hot and bothered so kindly shut up"
you blurt out, blinking at him and thats when you realise.
where had you thrown the vibrator? did you put it back in your hiding spot or was it still in the bathroom...
"this says otherwise." and to your worst nightmare, minho is holding up the toy.
its like your blood runs cold. theres nothing you can say. or do. except go speechless and motionless.
"pretty cheap, don't you think?" observing it so casually. you feel yourself get wetter. his fingers catching it mindlessly.
"s-stop playing around with it" you stutter, suddenly feeling shyer than ever.
minho smirks and you unconciously press your thighs together.
"it doesn't work properly, does it."
switching it on. it buzzes loudly in the silence of the room. its vibrations are hardly anything.
you've had enough and you grab his wrist. pausing in shock when the buzzing becomes louder. you can feel it vibrating.
he presses down on it harder and it nearly vibrates out of his grip.
how had he managed to get it to its highest setting-
"did you cum? or are you just staining your panties right now as we speak." he snorts out, manspreading.
"cause this wasn't even switched on properly"
you find yourself laying on your back. his hand slithered past the waistband of your pants. pressing it right over your cunt. teasingly moving the rounded tip up and down.
"needy pussy"
he's on top of you. smirking and observing every single change in your expressions.
"min-hho-" squirming under him. your hands flying down to weakly tug on his wrist. eyes struggling to stay focused.
"i must admit. hearing you say my name like that makes me want to see how you'll be if I fuck you"
sadistically keeping his pressure firm. nudging it under your panties.
"you're so much better like this, baby"
minho smirks. chuckling at the way you push yourself deeper into the bed. hips bucking upwards to escape his teasing. its cold when it comes in contact with your clit. the tips of his fingers rubbing into your folds everytime he played around with the toy.
"lee.minho a-ah" you writhe out, voice turning whiny. the familiar sensation builds up. except its more intense than ever.
he purposely turns the setting lower and you whimper in disappointment.
"maybe if i rub this..." pushing the vibrator all over your folds. a breathy gasp escaping his lips at how slicked up your cunt was.
"...or maybe if i touch this soaked cunt" dropping the vibrator and slipping his index finger through your slippery swollen lips.
"shit baby, did i get you this wet." and you know he's going to tease you for days if not months.
"you hate me, d-don't you" you whisper,shooting him a glare when he traces a digit over your clit.
eyes widening and breath quickening with how he maintains eye contact with you. bringing his head down to grunt in your ear. his fingers slapping your pussy meanly.
you whine, gripping his biceps. the leather jacket thrown on the edge of your bed.
"i hate you alright." he whispers, rubbing into your wetness slowly. minho chuckles. "filthy girl. you're throbbing on my fingers"
"i hate you so much that i jerk off to your pictures or that tone you use when you're pissed at me...i hate you to the point I cum so hard just picturing you taking my dick"
you can't control the fluttering feeling. coating his fingers even more so.
"i h-hate you more"
theres no heat in your words. gasping and legs quivering against his thicker thighs. keeping you open, unable to close your legs around his hand.
"hm, you do? tell me how much you hate me, kitten"
"i d-do...f-fuck" eyes rolling back in pleasure. desperately trying to chase your orgasm but he doesn't let you.
"yeah? you hate me so much that you're letting me touch you." minho says, voice going deeper. his ears are a shade of red and his lips parted.
"you're wet and begging for more under me. is that cause you hate me, sweetheart. or is that just you being you"
he quickens his pace. circling hard over your swollen and aching clit.
till you're throwing your hands around his neck. pulling him onto you entirely while you cum. its the hardest you've ever orgasmed.
maybe it was cause it had been so long...or you were sure it was because of him.
"there we go, good kitty" riding your high.
taking you by surprise when he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. so you push a few strands of hair out of his face. not letting go of him just yet.
"don't call me that" you whisper, struggling to hold in your smile. his lips curve upwards into a subtle smirk. kissing your neck slowly..
"but now that I know you're so pliant, i claim you as one of my cats"
your legs giving in when he gets up. wiping his coated fingers on his jeans. it leaves a wet stain.
"again as I said." you lift your head up, confused.
"this thing is useless!" grabbing the vibrator like he had personal beef with it. flinging it casually somewhere behind you.
"choose me. customize, personal talk, boyfriend material, protection...all in one package, baby"
pointing to himself.
he reaches over to the abandoned raspberries on the counter. walking back to stuff one small red berry in your mouth. smiling when you savour it.
"good kitty"
.
.
"is that minho hyung's jacket you're wearing?" felix' eyes widen. wondering why you were wearing the leather jacket.
"yeah and he told me i could wear it when i meet him for dinner tonight" you reply, lacing your boots up.
"YOU'RE HAVING DINNER WITH HIM?!"
.
.
.
.
.
.
I wanna be his dinner- GOD HE'S SO ARGHSBSJAKJW HAHAHAHIWHEHSHS
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sage-the-dragon · 2 days ago
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(Hi, so this is in Jason’s POV with GN!reader. I hope you enjoy… this is my first time actually writing Jason so yay. Um warnings include allusion to potential suicide at the end, and reader becomes an aunt/uncle in one of the letters. Other then that it’s just Jason dealing with emotions 🙃)
The night was quiet except for the police sirens echoing throughout the city. The night was so quiet that I decided I would take off the helmet and be alone with my thoughts. A dangerous concept that I never really allowed myself to divulge into.
As I rode through the streets, letting my bike take me wherever it wanted, all my thoughts seemed to continuously circle back to them. Their laughter, their smile, all the small things that we did together before… I shook my head slightly, increasing the revs, it doesn’t matter now. They’ve moved on, they’ve forgotten me. And, it’s probably for the best.
I tried to think of anyone else, anything else. The lastest drug traffic, what black mask was up too. Anything. The hurt of being forgotten clawed at my heart, tearing its way into my chest. Tears filled my vision and I pulled off the road. Kicking the kickstand and turning off my bike, I practically through my helmet off. Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, my body ragged with emotion of my past life. My life before what he turned me into.
I looked up and around at where I was. Freezing, I saw the overgrown rusted sign reading ‘Gotham Cemetery’. Well, I suppose I couldn’t have stayed away forever. Sighing, I made the choice to visit my grave. Trudging along the unkept, loose gravel pathway, hands in my pockets and jacket zipped up, I walked towards the barren area of my grave.
I stopped in my tracks, someone was there. Was that… are they at my grave? Faint sniffles and talking could be heard, but I couldn’t make any of it out. I side stepped to a pillar of a gravestone, hiding behind it. I don’t know exactly why I did that, I suppose I wanted to see what this person was going to do without scaring them off. I watched from the distance, as the mysterious person placed something down, a hoodie concealing their features. I continued to watch them as they stood up. As they turned to walk away, a glimpse of moonlight struck their features.
“Y/N,” I whispered. They were here… they were visiting my grave. I- I wasn’t forgotten. I nearly slapped myself for even thinking that they could have forgotten me. Never cared for me. They were too kind for that, too thoughtful, too loving…
I watched as they walked away, hands in their pockets. As they exited the cemetery, I ran wandered over there.
There it is. ‘Jason Peter Todd’ ‘A Good Soldier’.
But below the ‘heartfelt’ writing, was a seemed to be fresh bunch of red roses and a sturdy looking box, a metal box that appeared to be waterproof. Looking around the grave yard for anyone, I opened the box. Inside was piles upon piles of letters. Each addressed to… me.
So of course I did the respectful thing and opened all of them. One by one. Reading all of them.
“To my dearest Jason,
I miss you so much. Not a day nor a second goes by where I do not think about you. Now does it result in my crying most of the day, yes. But I’m okay with that. If I could trade all my tears, all my book collections, all my memories before you just to bring you back to me, I would. You were are the dearest thing in the world to me, my most perfect boy, and nothing can ever change that.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
Tears pricked my eyes as I closed the letter just to open another one.
“To my darling Jason,
I went to school today. I haven’t been for a while because of… well, your departure. But I went today! The classes were boring, English made me think of you. Our friends say I’m not my usual self, but who can blame me. I only lost you 2 months ago. The wound is still fresh. But I know you would want me to continue school, get an education in this world, to take care of my self. It will be hard, but I know it will be worth it in the end. I’m looking forward to seeing you again, someday.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
Each letter recited their day to me. It was like I was there, having them come home to me and telling me every little thing they did that day. Like I was watching them do it. A smile was plaster on my face as tears were streaming down my face. I barely noticed except for the few drops that landed on the paper. I was so incredibly happy, yet so incredibly sad. They didn’t forget me, they love me. Anger tore through me, I can’t believe that fucker took me away from them. But I continue reading. New emotions tearing through me with each day or week that I read. New boyfriend? Instant no, turns out that they broke up after a week. Good, still single then.
A twinge of guilt hit me as I though that as I closed the letter. They should be happy. They deserve to be happy, I shouldn’t be happy that a relationship didn’t work out because it wasn’t with me.
I continued on reading all night and into the early morning.
“To the love of my life that will forever have my heart,
I became an aunt/uncle (I’m sorry I don’t know a gender neutral term 😭) today!! I have a beautiful nephew named Ben. I’m so happy, he’s so cute and already curious for the world. He reminds me of you actually. I was a crying mess when I held him in my arms for the first time. My sister is so happy but recovering from the birth. I wish you could meet him. As I wish on every single shooting star I see, somehow wishing you back into existence with me. To have everything how it should be. You and me together.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
As the sun’s rays started to bless the dark Gotham sky, glistening on my tear streaked face and soppy grin. I came to the last letter. The letter that they just put here today, or I suppose yesterday now.
“To my precious boy,
I love you with all my heart, and I will never stop. But times are getting hard and all I want in life is to see you again. I know it’s bad. I know I should go talk to someone, but non of them understand. Except for Dick, I see him every fortnight when he comes up to Gotham from Bludhaven. I don’t long for anything on this earth anymore than I long for your arms around me again. Your scent to envelope me again. All your clothes have lost your scent, your room in the manor is losing it too.
No one understands me like you do Jay. Every new relationship that my friends nudge me towards fail because I’m looking for you. Your caring nature, your love for classic literature, your passion for fighting for those that can’t fight for themselves. I miss you too much, and I have tried so hard these past 2 years… I know you must be disappointed in me. But you’ve surely seen me struggle these past years without you.
I love you so so much, I hope you can forgive me when we meet again very soon.
Yours forever,
Y/N”
My eyes widened as I finished the letter. My brain short circuited, not computing what I just read. They were- no I can’t let that happen. I shoved the letter back into the box with the others and ran to my bike.
No one could save me. But I damn well as going to save them.
Please Y/N, I love you too. Every wish you made has come true. I’m here now, just wait a little longer. I memorised their current address from 2 of the letters they had written. I didn’t care for the road rules, the street signs, the speed limits. I was getting them before we had a reverse Romeo and Juliet.
jason todd x reader where the reader still presumes he’s dead and visits his grave every week to give him a letter because they used to communicate through letters for fun to the point where his grave has boxes of letters. meanwhile, jason thinks reader forgot about him until he visits his own grave to see reader dropping off another letter and after they leave he takes the time to read each letter they’ve left since he died and gets emotional. okay, goodnight !
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revelboo · 2 days ago
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I love your writing and I love that you’re having fun with it even more! It baffles me how good you are with coming up with different dynamics for each of your storylines and they all work so well. My favorite has to be tfp megs. Maybe it’s a guilty pleasure but something about the fake hating or the taboo codependency really scratches a specific itch on my brain.
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I know it’s a very satisfying dynamic to write. This one is a bit earlier than I’d planned, but I wanted to get it down while it was in my head.
And you guys crack me up sometimes. I’ve seen one of y’all call Optimus ‘Pee Paw’ in reblog tags and now TFP Megs is ‘Space Crack Grandpa.’
Broken Arrow Pt 9
TFP Megatron x Reader
• You’re frozen against him, body arching into his where his denta are gripping you. He’s shocked you so badly you don’t know how to respond apparently. There’s a faint unease at your stillness, that maybe he finally pushed a bit too hard. It’s only when he bites just a tiny bit harder that you snap out of it and smack a palm against the side of his helm. “Get off, you jerk. Who bites someone?” And there’s the anger he enjoys so much. Laughing again as you try to shove his head away and he lets you, aware of your soft, warm hands gripping his helm, your face red and furious.
• And he’s laughing again, so messed up he finds your frustration hilarious as you keep your grip on his helm to keep him from trying to bite you again. That bare prick of his denta on you had broken through the shock of the not entirely unpleasant feel of that bite. “You shouldn’t do that crap,” you mutter, trying to maintain that frustrated anger, but worry creeping in to your tone. “At this rate, the Autobots won’t have to do anything. You’re so messed up, you’ll probably fall out of the ship and do it for them.”
• Those hands are unbelievably soft on him, fingers gripping his helm to try and keep his face out of biting range as you scowl up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me,” he asks, grinning as he catches one of your wrists and feels you immediately try to tug loose as he considers nipping those little fingers. Wanting to just because he can, just to feel you shudder against him again.
• Trying to get your hand back, you plant the other one in the center of his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself,”you mutter. “I’d shove you myself if I could.” He’s not letting go, but there’s a new, calculating gleam in his optics that makes your skin prickle all over. Because on that stuff? There’s no telling where his processor just went or what he might do. Like rasp the claws of his other hand down his chest, those armor panels shifting to reveal something pulsing with light, something alive that pulls at you and you realize it’s his bare spark. ‘That’s how you end a Cybertronian,’ his words come back to you and you suddenly want loose. Want him to close those panels up, because seeing this is uncomfortably intimate. “Cut it out.”
• “Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart, pet?” Servos tightening on your wrist to force your hand closer to his spark, you suck in a sharp breath and try to lean away, eyes widening in alarm. “Don’t you still want to end me?” Knows he should stop, let go. Because you’re not playing along, there’s something very much like real panic in your eyes as you struggle against him, then shudder violently when his spark reacts. Reaching out a tendril of energy to meet your shaking fingers and now he’s frozen.
• Warmth spins through you at that contact, you can feel him as those tendrils of spark energy curl about your fingers. And you’re not fighting to get away anymore, you’re surrendering to that feeling of falling into him like plunging into deep, still waters that are churning violently just under the surface. Fractured sensations and memories spin you about, too chaotic and alive for you make any sense of. Just knowing that this is him, all of him. Drowning in him, feeling your heart struggling, missing beats. Hurting.
• That contact runs electric through him until he’s jerking you closer to strengthen it without even thinking. He’d only meant to make you angry, to provoke you, but as awareness washes over him in a warm fall like summer rain, he’s suddenly painfully sober. You’re only a human, but he can sense something there that’s not a spark, but close. Something even more achingly fragile than you are as your head falls forward against his shoulder and he can’t move even though he needs to break that contact, shove you away to save himself. You’re just a sparkless organic. And what he feels isn’t a spark, but something that might as well be one entangling with him, slipping soft as a sigh through him as his servos tighten against you. Realizing just how bad a mistake he’d just made.
Previous
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sizzlingcloudmentality · 2 days ago
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slower
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
wordcount: ~2,4k
summary: One fine morning you overthink a little too much for Dave's liking, so he prescribes you his tried-and-true treatment: cockwarming. He continues to be just a guy <3 can be read as part 2 to slow, but works as a standalone as well
warnings: smut, explicit, no use of y/n, reader is ablebodied, established relationship, mild d/s dynamics, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming but make it oral, deep throat-ish but not really, squint and you miss the dacryphilia, pussy pronouns, dick pronouns, pet names (honey, puppy), soft (dom)!Dave deserves his own warning, feelings
a/n: these two sat in my drafts since slow came out: to everyone who loved part 1, thank you and I hope you'll enjoy this one, too. my undying love and gratitude to @guiltyasdave because she beta'ed again (thanks bby) and reassured me by saying this is still Dave even if he's a little soft for his girl. I'd be so lost without you Jana 💛 tagging @sp00kymulderr as well because ✨dick pronouns✨ (justice for dick pronouns y'all)
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Sunday morning. He ran. He made coffee. He showered. He stands next to your side of the bed with a steaming cup in his hand.
Your nose twitches, he can see it. It's either the coffee or the scent of his body wash that pulls you out of your sleep. 
You look so pretty, with that tiny gap between your lips, your lashes slowly fluttering against your cheeks as you wake up.
The coffee finds its place on the bedside table and Dave sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight. Finally you open your eyes, and when you see him, still wet from the shower and not already dressed, a smile touches your lips.
“There she is,” he hums with a smile of his own and gently cups your jaw in one hand. His thumb drags down your bottom lip before letting go of it again. 
You know him. At least the things that he lets you know about him. And he's having thoughts, you can clearly see it in the way he is staring at your mouth and the way his thumb looks pressed against the soft flesh of your lips.
You kiss the pad of his finger, adding a little kitten lick after and smirk when his eyes narrow for a split second. You got him. 
“What are you thinking about, handsome?” You stretch your body and lean one of your bare legs against his wet back.
“None of your business,” he grumbles, feeling his resolve slip away. You were onto him. Usually he is too clever and stubborn to fall for your weak manipulation attempts. But this morning he is feeling soft.
You pout, pursing your lips against his thumb that still moves along them. ‘Meanie,’ you mouth silently before licking his thumb again, slowly, as if you want to drag the digit into your mouth when you pull your tongue back.
It is so obvious, you don't even try to conceal the way you want him.
His thumb slips between your lips and when you make that little muffled uh and start to lazily twist your tongue around his finger, he can feel the memory of this feeling between his legs.
He needs you. 
“That's better, isn't it, honey. Keeping your pretty mouth busy and filled.”
You shift your body, move it closer to Dave and his towel clad thighs, your hands snaking over the sheets towards him.
He pushes his thumb deeper into your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue to get you from licking to sucking and you oblige, like you always do.
With half lidded eyes, another moan doesn't quite make its way past his finger and stays stuck in your mouth. Your thighs clamp together and your eyes open again, only to find your own desire mirrored in his expression.
You need him, too. To trust you enough to be soft around you, vulnerable. Just once.
“Too many thoughts in your pretty little head…” Dave shakes his head dismissively when he sees your tiny worry-line appearing between your brows. “When I fill your mouth, you better only think happy thoughts, honey. Or none. That's what I would prefer.”
Unceremoniously he pulls his thumb from your mouth and the deepening line between your brows makes him laugh a little.
“Poor baby,” he mocks with so much softness in his voice that his attempt to kiss your forehead smooth again works. 
You shuffle closer, your hand tugs his towel to the side so you can rest your cheek on his naked thigh. Skin to skin. You crave this nearness so openly and extensively that he can hide his own need for it behind your clinginess.
He never would admit it, but he enjoys it, the way you ask for his touch or simply just touch him whenever you need to. Which is often. Daves is sure about it, if you could and if he would let you, you would curl up in his lap like a loyal puppy.
He admires that about you, the fierceness with which you adore him. The way a heartfelt I love you slips from your lips so easily and the way you never are disappointed when he can't return the favor. He feels it, but words are hard for him. 
“What's worrying you, honey?” he coos quietly, looking down at you while he caresses your cheek.
“Nothing.” You. You worry me, David, you think to yourself while a finger follows the faint shadow of a vein appearing from under his towel.
“Mhmm… You're lying, honey.” A few droplets of water fall down from his wet hair and he wipes them away from your face. “Do you… want me to give you something to occupy your mind with? Something that helps you to get that adorable blank expression?” 
You nod your head slowly and a moment later Dave is on the bed and you are on him. The sheets rustle softly but the towel makes no sound when it slips open and down onto the floor.
A little pat on his thigh and you move without hesitation, curling your body between his spread legs and resting your cheek once again on him. 
It is comfortable, the position with your head in his lap, but also all of this. The absence of shame. Dave’s confidence and casualness with his body rubbed off on you. The definitions of naked, bare, exposed, vulnerable have shifted since you were with him. He often was bare before your eyes, he exposed his body in front of you, used and moved it as the high precision tool he thinks it is. But Dave was never vulnerable. 
You on the other hand have always been vulnerable when you were naked. He had a way of connecting your mind with your physical form and that made you exposed, bare, vulnerable. And seen and safe. Is he feeling safe with you?
“Stop overthinking,” he hums and strokes the back of your head. Such a good, loyal puppy for him.
“I can't.” The words are muffled against his skin, your lips occupied with scattering little kisses up his leg until you reach the always trimmed but never bare triangle. You stop and look up at him.
“You can. Just gotta focus, honey.” You are so pretty like this, so respectful, your mouth just one breath away from what you want and yet, you wait for his permission. “Let me help you,” he mutters softly. “What do you want?”
You move your head, your whole body, closer and nuzzle the patch of shortened curls at his base. “Him. Please.” 
You already miss him. It's been a couple of days. And the last time Dave helped you with your extensive overthinking has been even longer. You need him, them. A faint throb against your nose assures you that he needs you, too. Please, your eyes say when you look up again. He is so pretty like this, looking down at you.
“Go on. You can have him.”
You move again, immediately, and lick his limp dick into your mouth. He tastes so clean. Sweet almost. Purely David. Soft and sweet, resting on your tongue.
He continues to stroke your hair. There you are, curled up in his lap, needing him to help you relax. Such a good, good puppy.
“Don't move, just breathe.”
You nod and swallow. He starts growing. It never stops being magical. Slowly he crawls down your tongue, stretches into all directions that are you. Seeking your depths. You let him. 
It's peaceful, this morning, your head in Dave's lap, his hand in your hair, his hardening cock securely plugged in your mouth. No noise, just sheets rustling, your deep breaths, his sighs, your mewls. No movement except him, pushing himself deeper in the steady rhythm of Dave's pulse.
He begins to feel heavy. You know how he would look if you didn't hold him between your lips. Hanging, not hard enough yet to stand, point, spear. Just heavy hanging, swinging, giving the best slaps against your mouth and cheeks and pussy in this state. Full, heavy, promising. You want to suck him so bad. Want to suck him until he's rock hard and throbbing. You mewl again, sounding choked as he slowly makes it past the base of your tongue. 
Dave grips a fistful of hair and tugs. A reminder. Breathe for me, honey. And you do. In and out. In and out, no thoughts in your head, just his cock, who is forcing his way past your resistance. You breathe. You focus. You relax your jaw and your mind. Bliss. Your pussy pulses. You mewl.
“Such a good girl, you're doing so good.” He wants to move so badly. In and out. But he can't. You need him, trust him to take care of you. He sees the glossy sheen in your eyes as you're tearing up just the slightest bit. He's somewhere in there, he thinks and caresses your throat with his thumb. You don't like him there too much and he respects that boundary. But he loves being in there, loves seeing you getting teary eyed whenever you decide to grace him with your trust and kindness and take him as deep as you can. He's a bastard, he thinks when he coos at you, for taking such a pleasure in seeing you cry.
You swallow again, your saliva struggles past him on its way down and there it is, a fragrant hint of salt makes it to your palates. He is leaking. You see it in your mind: salty shimmery pearls, making a pretty string of beads down his cock, along that one pretty vein that throbs against your tongue right now. You mewl but all that you both can hear is a pathetic, strangled gurgle. A tear forms on your lash line and lands on your cheek. 
Dave takes it up with his thumb and licks it. Saltiness spreads on his tongue. A trade of salt, he gives you his, you give him yours. You're even, always. 
His hand loosens around your hair, it's over if you like, keep going if you want, puppy.
You struggle a few moments more around him while he takes up space in your throat and mind. Dave's eyes feel heavy on you, the love he never expresses with explicit words is carving the trails of your tears into your cheeks. He throbs violently and you pull yourself off of him, coughing.
You scramble to your knees and before you could even miss the feel of Dave's skin he has you pulled into his lap, cradling you, peppering you with sweet praise. How well you did with the breathing. How good and calm your mouth felt around him. How pretty you are. 
He feels it, your slick. Silky and sweet, sticking between your thighs, just from holding his cock in your mouth. Dave looks down, shifting you, encouraging you to straddle him and spread your legs wider, so he can see everything that is his.
Shimmery threads of sweetness, stretching from one inner thigh to the other. He sticks his fingers into it, twists them, turns them, spinning your thread of silk around his digits. He sucks them clean. Sweet. Like spun sugar but better. 
You look down, between your legs and watch him as he grips himself by the base, and twists more of you around him, mixing your sweetness with his saltiness, creating a smooth blend of sticky threads. You almost drool and add another liquid, but Dave is quicker.
With a small thrust he pushes himself inside of you, not hurried, not slow either, but determined and eager. Another wet, tight heat welcomes him this morning and he feels truly blessed for this woman on his lap. 
“Such a good puppy for me. So loyal,” he murmurs, voice strained and like gravel. Now it's you throbbing and pulsing, stretching around him but unwillingly, she likes to hold him close and tight, tucked away where he belongs. What you lack in clarity your pussy has enough of: she wants one thing and that is him. 
You tilt your hips, angling him deeper. You whimper and sling your arms around Dave's neck and you breathe, in and out, and he moves beneath you. In. And out. A determined rhythm, chasing nothing because why chase the inescapable? It will come, like Dave, like you. 
His hand finds his way down to the spot where you are joined, dipping and smearing in the salty sweet gooeyness, gliding over and circling around the nub that makes you hiss and your pussy clench violently.
“Feeling good, little puppy?” Dave groans and pushes his spread fingers deeper, feeling himself push inside of you and out again until the thick rim of his tip appears and disappears again.
You nod, head bouncing in the steady rhythm. In. Out. Up. Down. Full. Empty. Full. Empty. Deeper. Fuck, you're close. Deeper again, tensing, throbbing.
“Dave-”
“I know, honey. Be good.” Let go. Just breathe. In. Deep. Deeper, out. “Be a good puppy for me. I'm right there.” All he needs is you spasming around him and your whines. 
You angle your hips again, dragging your aching clit against his spikey trimmed hair that got all smooth and slick. Salty and sweet. Up, down, so fucking deep you wince, up, down, faster, again. Now you're chasing. Mind deliciously blank, just the hum of pleasure in your spine. So close. So deep, so full, so stretched around him you can't even clamp on him anymore. More. Down, deeper.
His fingers flick and he pinches your clit and you fall, white noise and moans in your ears, riding Dave through the wave of your orgasm. Feeling him filling you now. Feeling his fingers digging into your hips and pressing you down on him, so deep inside of you and he whines. A sweet whimper of your name, breathed into your ear and securely locked away in your mind with a kiss. 
You both breathe heavily now, in and out, sticky skin, gasps trickling from your mouths, arms encircling, little giggles mixed in, to make a soft, warm blend of safety.
He feels safe with me, you think and when you lean back, just enough to look at Dave's face, he mouthes something that looks like love and you and you securely lock those words away with a kiss.
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comment or reblog to get an anti-overthinking session with Dave (I'm in dire need of one myself, help)
read part 1 here
find my Dave York masterlist here
find my general masterlist here
dividers: as always @/saradika-graphics
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thesassypadawan · 2 days ago
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Make Them Blue 2 (Knight Anakin x FemKnightReader) *Blurb*
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Summary: It’s No Nut November and you thought you could easily make a certain cocky master fall short…like always.  By whisking him away to that special spot, tucked away in the temple’s garden the moment he lands planetside…to congratulate him on a job well done.  However it make not be as easy in years past.
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut.  69, overstimulation, dom skyguy, and, as always…Ani’s big, veiny dick.
Notes: Happy No Nut November all you, lovelies! 🤍💙 (Hope you also enjoy Part 1!)
- Song and dance all too familiar, rather nostalgic.  With your fingers tracing along the v of his hips, a string of enticing sounds falling from his swollen lips.  Only now the lines of his body are more sculpted, more defined; the voice deeper, robuster.  “Mmmh, hatari…  Really thought you could get away with this again…”
- And not all of those lovely, muffled noises come from him alone…
- Leaking pre ever since the moment you two started kissing…squeezing…rubbing…  A perpetual pearly stream oozing out from his angry red tip; trickling down your throat, smearing across your face.  “A-Ani…  It’s too…it’s too much…”
- Invisible digits lace through your hair; pushes your head, forces you to swallow back down his girthy length.  Cheeks growing flusher; muscles in your neck tensing, gummy walls fluttering.  As he groans, delves his tongue further into your sopping core.  So desperate for another taste of that sweet nectar.  “Yeah, but that’s how you like it…”
- Gloved hand firms up its grip on your plush bottom, the other its hold on your soft waist.  Teeth nip, nose teases at your overstimed clit.  Causing those wide hips of yours to twitch slightly, his own buck harshly in response.  Despite your low whines, whimpers.  “The b-bet though, I…I…”
- Kissing your quivering cunny, chuckling softly.  “Figured I would put up more of a fight?  We both know that wasn’t happening…”  He gathers up more of that milky essence; using your own silk to help make his movements more fluid.  Plunging his tongue in and out slowly, working you towards another plantshattering orgasm.  “Not with how you practically shoved these fat tits in my face the minute I landed…”
- With a wet pop, you pull yourself off.  Chain of saliva mixed with shimmering juices connect your lips to his tip.  Breath sputters; come out in small, shallow gasps.  Plump legs wrap tighter around his bull neck, loosing yourself more to the continuous onslaught of pleasure.  “But I t-thought you…”
- Mind hazy; blood pounding, along with your frantic heartbeat in your ears.  A bead of sweat rolls off  your brow; plops onto, soaked up by the ground below.  Hiding place filling with the lewd, obscene echoes when his pace increases…eats like a bantha starved.  “Would be an easy mark like the last five years…”
- Phantom presence ‘encourages’ you to dive, take him in again.  Canines catching on his thick veins; tiny tongue swirling, prodding at his slit.  “Niiice try…”  Throat unconsciously relaxing; allowing him to slide deeper, drag against your tonsils.  “Nnngh, not that stupid…”
- Bodies contort, go ridged.  Tremble and spasm.  “If I’m going dooown…”  Your hands push at his toned legs, his grab at your squishy curves to keep you still.  Both knowing fully well what was coming next.  “You’re goooing with me…”
- Trying to anchor yourself in a last, futile attempt.  Fingers and nails lightly scratch at, sink into his toned thighs.  Thin band of metal digging, scraping across his sun kissed skin as well.  Instead a low cry bubbles out, coil in your stomach snaps.  White splatters and covers his face, caking it in yet another a layer of your arousal.  Making him into more of a sticky, tacky mess.
- However, Anakin doesn’t stop there…
- Thrusting up, burying himself to the hilt.  He growls, mutters words of praise; listening to your high-pitched squeals and squeaks of him filling your mouth.  So much so; to the point that it overflows around your sealed lips, out your nose.  “Good girl…good little wife, milked me for every drop.  Lemme reward you…mount you…ride you.  Until sunrise…until I’ve pumped another brat or three into you.”
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @skyguys-princess, @sythethecarrot, @valyna27, @anakinstwinklebunny, @rollinsgirlforever,  @ihategushers, @nevaehthecreator1, @lotte08, @beabbsworld, @these-travels, @everydaydreamer, @t03soup, @anakinsbbgirl, @fuckmyskywalker
@littlelamy, @khoatic-with-no-energy, @raiwpenl, @malinadbbdh, @strokingforyou26, @xspacexwitchx, @em-21, @hearts4sammonroe, @shouldbetakencareof2, @loxbbg, @supersoldatbarnesstuff, @thesilentreaderrrrr, @theoriginalsinner28, @dumb-slut-things, @indigoblues1207, @ald6518, @julxstrawberry, @wh0sl0ttie, @tojis-missing-arm, @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo, @theladykassia, @doblasftcisco, @morguexmvp, @f4iryjinsworld, @nyxiesstuff, @heymamasblog, @justsomeimbicel, @prettywhenicry-777, @femme-is-typing, @maddis0n4, @ttdrake, @melmurkun, @brattyyybbg, @zara13ts, @bigaoibhe2024, @neocitywhore, @ter-luer, @ladyanaschmidt, @sarahflores07,  @death934, @dovepevensie, @adorebambie, @pookiswookis, @icecoldhearts, @elliemariscal, @allievalll, @moonlxght-tyler, @1-racha, @tosterwwannie, @inejghafawifesblog, @carlgrimeswifeofficial, @hellemo666
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comicaurora · 15 hours ago
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spoiler thoughts in no particular order:
The theme of this season seems to be "replacement." Characters are constantly taking on other character's roles. Heimerdinger highlights that Jayce is his former pupil and Ekko is his new pupil. Jinx acquires a Powder-esque kid sidekick and finds herself in Vi's role, while Vi finds herself hurt and abandoned by someone she loves most in a very Powder-y position. Caitlyn struggles to replace her mother, and Ambessa very tactically places herself in that authoritative role to give Caitlyn the motherly guidance she no longer has - essentially replacing Mel in the process. Everyone is being shuffled around, and very few of them are taking it well.
It's interesting to me that, amidst all this replacing, two roles are conspicuously not being filled: Silko and Vander. Silko's death has left a gaping wound in Jinx and Sevika's operation, and neither of them are attempting to replace him - instead, they're trying to figure out their dynamic without him between them. In a strange way, it feels like Jinx is maturing. She's beginning to recognize that she doesn't actually destroy everything she touches; there are things in this world she CAN fix. This is extremely un-Silko of her. If anything, it's a genuinely healthy extrapolation of her dreams as Powder - to be useful, to help. If she's reaching the point where she thinks she really CAN make things instead of just breaking them, that's a legitimately good sign.
Vi is the obvious candidate to become the new Vander, and I think she will eventually. The first three episodes have taken her some of the way along a very complicated journey. A lot of people have pointed out that she sacrificed every part of her identity to try and help Caitlyn in her grief - she put on the uniform of the people who killed her parents and sold out Vander, the people who tortured her in prison. She compartmentalized her love for Powder and convinced herself she could kill her for Caitlyn, even though she demonstrably couldn't. She packed away everything except her moral code, and then Caitlyn nearly shot a child to get to Jinx, so Vi stopped her. And so she learns that Caitlyn didn't appreciate anything of what she was asking of her. She didn't understand the weight of the sacrifice Vi was making for her. She didn't see Vi as a partner, only as a tool for getting her shot at Jinx, and when Vi broke from that purpose, Caitlyn police brutality'd her and abandoned her at the bottom of a hole. We've never seen Vi at this kind of rock bottom before, because she always had her identity, her stubbornness, her anger. She gave them up for love, and when her guard was down, she was punished for it. Vi is the character most reluctant to change. She voices it overtly; she sees everyone else changing, she begs it to stop. Everyone is preserved in her memory from before the night everything went wrong. Powder's not Jinx now, Powder is dead and Jinx is a new problem. Ekko is still "Little Man." I think Vi can't start becoming whoever she's meant to be until she gets past that terror of change, and it looks like she can't do that until she loses absolutely everything.
I'm less clear on what to expect from Caitlyn, but I think it's going to be fascinating. She's really at her worst in this part of the show, and it's incredibly interesting. Her unchallenged worldview is on full display: the undercity is disgusting and evil, the enforcers are the pinnacle of goodness now that the one bad apple has been excised. She was doing Vi a favor giving her the badge, obviously; Vi deserves the badge so she'll kick up whatever fuss she needs to in order to make it happen. Vi's one of the good ones, so Vi can't be like the other Zaunites, those animals. Her mother sealed up The Gray to keep them from asphyxiating from the pollution? Well, they killed her mother, so they don't deserve to breathe that free air anymore. Vi defies her one time and Caitlyn snaps into the only alternative she can currently understand: you're just like them, you're my enemy, you're beneath me. She never really made an effort to understand Vi's world because she clearly thought she was saving her from it. You don't deserve to be down there in the dirt, you deserve to be up here where it's nice. The dichotomy of Piltover Good, Zaun Bad is so deeply ingrained in her that her raw grief has left it completely exposed. If Vi won't help her, she deserves to be left down there. I want to see where they go with this, because Caitlyn's at her own kind of rock bottom right now - a sniper's fixation on her target causing her to hurt and cast away every other priority. Ambessa's correctly identified her as a weapon and is precisely aiming her wherever she needs her to destroy, and Caitlyn is so fixated on Jinx she can't even tell. I expect "what are you shooting for?" to come back in a big way.
I don't know WHAT the hell is going on with Jayce and I am so excited to figure it out. They really sold the whole "whoops you've been meddling with forces far beyond your comprehension just like Heinmerdinger said" thing and the implications are fascinating.
In the same way that Jinx seems to be sort of building a role all her own instead of taking someone's place, Viktor seems to be doing the same thing. He's not taking anyone's place; what he's up to is totally new. He's doing exactly what he wanted to back in season one - using hextech to help the people in most desperate need. He can heal the poisoning of Shimmer and the toxins in Zaun. He has what nobody else in this show has - a form of power that is curative and presently unchallenged. It isn't a fight for him, not like everything else has been. All he's ever cared about was alleviating suffering, and as far as we can tell, now he can. Nobody else was doing anything to help. I am very intrigued to see where this goes and how the magic system gets fleshed out around him.
I have a hunch that wild magic situation might be yeeting Ekko out of the timeline for a bit. The act 2 preview had him on the Remembrance Wall, so I assume the firelights are gonna presume him dead for a minute - bit of a bummer, but if he comes back with his canonical time powers I'll take it.
Minor note, I liked how they highlighted that the council hall was aggressively non-wheelchair-accessible. A very elegant way to underline how Piltover has never actually been a beacon of progress and opportunity.
Have you watched the new Arcane episodes?
my first "oh FUCK yeah" happened during the opening credits when I noticed Ekko's two shadows were moving like the hands on a clock and that momentum carried for basically the whole rest of the viewing experience
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millersfinest · 13 hours ago
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the thing in your chest that beats ⁴ | e.w
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santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader
wc: 5.9k
mini-series: california | oregon | idaho | wyoming (you’re here)
tags: @elliecoochieeater
blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…
cw: healing!reader, healing!ellie, vulgar language, ellie being avoidant as hell, slow-burn romance, little jj, reader being really depressed at the beginning, little time jump, sexual content but not smut per se, pure sugary sweet ending (almost pissed ME off)
note: omg final chapter!! i didn’t really know how i wanted to end it, so i went through scenic route. i hope you guys enjoyed my little series, because i had fun writing it.
wyoming
For the first time in a long time, you were cozy—absolutely bored and comfortable, and what a delight that was! The settlement in Jackson was everything that you had hoped for. It was warm and welcoming. Not by everyone, but by enough to want this place to feel like home. When the moon replaced the sun and the stars trickled over the night sky, warm yellow lights flickered on. Draping over the center of the settlement, where the establishments flourished. Lighting up a path that was being adorned by the first snow of the year.
It’s been a while since you’ve seen snow in all its icy glory; you were nothing but a child then. Waking up from a troubled sleep, in a spacious home that you could call your own, you shuffled to a frosted window. With your arms wrapped around your body, looking to see minute flurries fluttering from the sky. Collecting in piles on the outer edge of your windowsill.
After a month of already being in Wyoming, at the settlement, reality had set in. You were no longer a soldier, or a slave, or a traveler. Finally, you have made it to the place that was nestled in your mind for endless days, weeks and months.
Relief. Solace. Everything you’ve ever wanted. Except for one thing.
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The house was a two-story home, with beige striped wallpaper; mahogany wood accenting arches separating rooms, cabinets, bannisters and floor boards. Upon your arrival, it was already furnished. A long, soft maroon couch. Decorated with quilts and knitted blankets from neighbors. A square wool carpet laid flat under a mahogany coffee table. Lamps in various places, warmly illuminating the room.
A dark wood dining table. Iron cookware. Upstairs, a quiet bed frame with a decent mattress and comforter on top. A couple of pillows. Two dressers. A proportionate closet—this house looked like a home. Minus the adjustments and additions you were planning for. However, it didn’t quite feel like a home.
It was empty… Or you were empty.
Since your arrival, talking with Ellie became a challenge. You rarely saw her; it was like she handed you off to the officials of Jackson’s and dusted her hands from you. It was dramatic to ruminate over a woman who’s only obligation was to get you to Wyoming—to this community. That’s what you tried to tell yourself to stay in line, but it wasn’t working. Even after busying yourself with different jobs and tasks to start earning your keep, you still thought of her.
Hell, you caught glimpses of her. Jackson wasn’t that big. She’d be walking hand-in-hand with a small child, a toddler, talking intimately with a dark-haired woman. You saw them together often. It could only be assumed that they were important—her ex-girlfriend and son. Well, now, you were uncertain if that was her ex-girlfriend… But, again, you shouldn’t be ruminating. You got what you wanted, remember?
It was an early morning when Maria had asked to meet with you, at a coffee shop in the middle of the square. Dressed in an insulated coat with a hoodie underneath, a pair of trusted light-wash jeans and black leather boots; you began a trek from the corner of the settlement in a light layer of snow. The asphalt wasn’t cold enough to let it fester just yet, but the grass held onto the ice. Headphones rested over your ears, playing a tape gifted to you as a housewarming gift from your young neighbor.
Some old rock band from the 90s. Nirvana’s About A Girl played in your ears as your boots crunched the snow.
It took about four songs off the album for you to get to the coffee shop. Pulling the flimsy headphones down to rest around your neck, you entered the shop looking for a head of sleek blonde hair. An aroma of burning coffee beans and sugar infiltrated your nose. Small chatter was heard from people holding warm mugs, looking at old newspapers, reading novels.
From a table in the far corner of the shop, Maria stood to wave you over. A friendly smile spread across your lips, taut and plastered, as you approached the square wooden table. “G’Morning, Maria.” You reached your hand out to shake her hand, professionally.
She looked down at your hand, snickering. Impressed by your insistence on professionalism. After all, she basically was your employer. It was the one thing the fireflies taught you well—respect your superiors. “Good Mornin’,” Maria firmly shook your hand, taking her seat.
The heaters in the shop toasted up your exposed skin, causing you to remove your jacket before sitting down in the seat across from the older woman. Two cups warm mugs were put in front of you, almost on cue, by a young girl with a maroon apron. “Thank you, Melissa.” She smiled at the barista. “I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, so I just ordered you a hot chocolate. Hope that’s all right.”
“Oh, it’s fine. No complaints here.”
“Good.” Maria curtly nodded her head, pulling a black binder from a bag hanging on the back of a chair. “You’ve been sleeping well in that house?” Dabbing her middle finger on her tongue, she sifted through the pages and hand-written documents.
You blink, wrapping your hands around the ceramic mug. “There’s good nights and bad nights…” Nodding, you attempt to take a sip of the hot beverage, but it was too scolding. “Not the fault of the house, just me.” The ends of your lips curl as a softener to your words. Being negative in the face of someone who granted you a place to stay felt like a crime.
Maria hummed, looking up at with genuine blue eyes. “Well, I hope there are more good nights than bad nights.”
“Yeah, of course!” You shrugged, answering entirely too quickly. Which certainly gave away the fact that you telling the truth. Her icy blues were intimidating, although you’ve seen much worse than a pair of eyes.
Falling asleep alone, in the dark was another challenge you had to face. After spending months on the road with someone, knowing they’re there… It was an eerie feeling being far from them—being along. Especially, those last few weeks leading up to knocking on the community’s door. Whenever you found a place to camp out for the night, her arms would be wrapped around you. Or your arms wrapped around her. Relishing in each other’s clothed or bare bodies; it had become a tragic comfort.
Your skin burned for her like it did on that fucking pillar. It tingled, ached and wanted for her touch. Her lips. Her eyes. Her hands.
The nightmare’s of your traumas persisted when you closed your eyes. You wanted to blame it on Ellie’s absence, but they rarely surrendered with her around. But at least when you woke up, boiling, sweating and heaving like you’d just run a marathon, a pair of arms were there to lull you back to sleep. Kissing the back of your neck to remind you that you weren’t there anymore—that you were safe.
And, when she had her moments, shooting up from your arms with tears rolling down her cheeks. You coaxed her back to sleep with her head on your chest, and affirming whispers.
You couldn’t help but wonder if those moments meant as much to her as they did to you.
She hummed at your response, pursing her lips. “If you’re having any problems let me know. I have some great remedies to help with sleep.” The blonde woman offers, a soft smile spreading on her lips. You nodded, chewing on the soft skin inside of your lip. “Now,” Maria begins. “I see that you’ve had some time to try out some of the positions we offer. Have any taken your interest?”
Flipping through a couple of pages, she continues. “I’ve heard great things from Ava Marin, she manages the patrols. Uhm, and Mrs Hayworth, from the gardens and greenhouse…”
“Mrs Hayworth is a very kind woman. I enjoyed working with her— she’s great at explaining things.” You compliment, thinking about the few days you spent with her planting vegetables and fruit. Her salt and pepper hair puffed in coils around her cherubic but wrinkled face. Crowd feet leading to a pair of squinty hazel eyes. Mrs Hayworth treated her plants like they were her children, and she enforced you to do the same.
“She is— wonderful woman.” Maria agreed.
Humming, you think about all the jobs your tried—which was a lot. Patrol was something that you were used to. Being out in the world wasn’t a grand change. However, you weren’t certain that you wanted to go beyond the walls so often. You’ve spent lots of time patrolling, surveying, killing infected—you wanted to hang that up. Every once in a while wouldn’t hurt, though. “If I were to sign up to help out with the gardens… Would that mean that patrolling would be off limits?”
The blonde woman shook her head, pursing her lips. “Not at all! For patrol, it’s in a sign-up basis. If you were to mainly do patrol, it would mean going out every other day. If you were to mainly work the gardens, that would be more of a consistent job— but you could still sign-up for patrols if you wanted.” Maria informed. “As long as you’ve been approved to go, and you have.”
“Hm…” You thought, weighing your options. The inner rage that you harbored had remained dormant since you arrived. It had been replaced with rumination and sadness for things out of your control. “Gardening full-time seems serene… I’ve spent enough time out there.” Nodding, with a subtle curl to the corners of your lips, you admitted.
Maria begins to scribble with a pen on a sheet of paper, connected to the rings in the binder. “Sounds fitting. But, of course, you can change your mind anytime.”
After you deal with business, Maria continues conversation with you. Casual, of course. You could tell she was trying to pry without being obvious—wanting to know more about you. Willingly, you gave in, because why not? It’s been a long time since you’ve had a real conversation with someone. Maria Miller seemed genuine enough.
However, when she brought up Ellie, the air stiffened. And you could tell she noticed it.
“You and Ellie… Have you spoken, lately? It’s been hard getting a hold of her— it’s like she’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.” She chortles, taking a sip of her coffee. Pressing her lips together at the bitter taste.
Stunned by the mention of her, you shook your head. Fingers growing numb around the warm, untouched, hot chocolate. “Uhm, no I haven’t…”
She hummed, leaning her head to the start. “That’s odd.” Maria scoffs, bunching her eyebrows. “She made it seem like you two were very close— being that you traveled so far together…” It’s like she was thinking out loud, making you want to bolt from the wooden chair holding onto you. “I mean, she made sure that you got the best house in Jackson… I would assume that she would’ve at least visited—“
“Well, she hasn’t.” Sternly interrupting her, you inhaled, sharply.
Noticing the mistake, she sighed, looking at with blue eyes filled with pity. It irked you. Trying to fix it, Maria plastered a bittersweet smile on her lips. “She’s more like Tommy than I thought.” Bunching your eyebrows, she continued. “My husband— ex-husband— I don’t know… It’s complicated.”
You know the feeling… Kind of.
Ellie had told you about Tommy Miller. He was a very ambitious man, to say the least. Ambitious enough to send a grieving girl to kill someone in his absence—feeding off her own despair. You caught that much. But, if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have ever met her. What a selfish thought. “They’re both hermits in their own right, but they always come around.” She released a wistful sigh. “Ellie will come around… Just give her some time to get all her ducks in a row.”
With tight lips, you nodded. How much time? You desperately wanted to ask, but you didn’t. Instead, you stood up, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. “Thank you so much for the hot chocolate, Maria, but I have to go.” Speaking quickly, you slid your arms into your puffer jacket. Maria abruptly stood to her feet with an inquisitive expression.
“Oh, well, uhm,” She began, rubbing her hands together. “Of course. You’re schedule should be out in the next few days. Consider the meantime your sabbatical.” Her eyes drifted over your frame like a concerned mother. “It was a pleasure talking with you, y/n. I’m glad you could join us here.”
Sending another tight-lipped smile her way, you stuck your hands into your pockets. “I’m glad you let me. See you around.”
Leaving the coffee shop, the cold air was a smack in the face. Pulling you from shackles of solemnity—briefly. Raising your headphones back around your ears, you resumed the tape inside of the Walkman clipped to your hip.
Thin flurries of snow began to fall from the bright grey clouds. Trickling over the strands of your hair, melting in contact. Stuffing your hands back into your pockets, you walked down the icy path of the square.
The main square in Jackson was littered with people. Some were standing around conversing, with cigarettes in their hands. Some worked pulling supplies in large wooden carts, moving them to another establishment. You seen a man on a ladder fixing a broken light on the outside of a pub. And a woman walking a train of small children holding hands—like they were on a field trip of some kind. They laughed and giggled under knit beanies, bundled in their jackets that may have been too big for some.
A smile appeared on your lips as you watched them march by you.
You stopped at an art store, looking up at the wooden sign. Quoting Maria, you were on sabbatical; so, you wanted to use this time to fully explore the settlement. In the month that you’ve been in Jackson, you have visited the local pub more often than you’d like to admit. Entering the store, a bell sounded, and you smiled at the few people walking around the decorated shop.
Organic paints and brushes were located in the back corner of the store, taking up two walls and some floor space. While the rest of the store harbored artwork from the people who lived in the community. And some refurbished work found outside the wall. A sign on the wall read: talk to an attendant for group and private classes. You hummed, impressed by the normalcy. Perhaps, you could sign up for one.
Meandering around, your eyes survey the paintings and drawings. Thinking about your home, it could use some personalization. You came across a landscape portrait of two women. The strokes emulated grass—olive tones—that they were lying on—intertwined with each other. Arms and legs entangled. Lips grazing each others cheeks. The strokes that were made were intentionally blurry and messy. Who were these women? Was their relationship as unofficial and indifferent as your own?
Fingers grazing the canvas of the painting, you couldn’t help but think of that freckle-faced woman you’ve grown to adore.
“You interested in that one? Nice choice.”
Even though your headphones played Nirvana in your ears, you could still recognize the outsourced voice. Her voice was like honey. Soft, warm honey. Luring you like a spell spoken by a witch or warlock. God, you missed the sound of her voice. “Funny thing is… The woman who painted this actually has a husband.” She chuckled, glancing at you with a nervous glint.
You froze at the sound of her voice, eyes glued to the art before you. Just blinking. Buh bum. Buh hum. Your heart beat in your ears, in your chest, in your hands—everywhere! Skin growing hot as if you were sat in front of a furnace. Were you mad or just upset? It was hard to tell, even for yourself.
The smile on her lips faded, immediately. Fiddling with her fingers—she always did that. “How’re you settling in—?”
“I’ve already settled in…” Your voice was eerily calm, side-eying her as you spoke. “I haven’t seen you in five weeks, Ellie.”
She sighed, adjusting the knit cap over her hair. Licking her lips, nervously. “I know—“
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” When you finally look at her, she notices the irateness in your eyes. Crowding over the feelings of yearning and sorrow.
“Can we talk? Please, just let me explain.”
Gritting your jaw, you peer at her. Thinking about hashing it out within a small walk. But, you were tender, sensitive—you couldn’t be sure that your reaction wouldn’t be explosive. What if she told you she was getting back with Dina? Going back to her family. That alone could send you into ruins. And you too far from your house to escape the public once you unleashed hell upon that woman. “You know where I live.” You told, with a pinched expression.
That was your cue to leave the store, pulling your hoodie over your head. Maybe, today wasn’t the day to tour the community. Another day. Plus, you had to spend the rest of the day anticipating a knock at your door.
It was a glum walk back to your place. You had put your Walkman on pause, walking in a depressive silence. Each step you made up your porch was deliberate and slow. An old swing chair swung in the wind, bolts shaking once you put your weight on the porch. It wrapped around the entire front of the house, and it definitely needed more décor.
Entering your house, you hung up your jacket and kicked off your shoes at the door. Stalking up your staircase, leaning in the railing, you made your way to your bedroom. The un-made bed beckoned you; so you kicked the door closed, and jumped under your covers. Hopefully, getting some shut eye could ease your nerves.
The sleep was rocky—you were in and out. In the moments when you awoke, you pulled a book from your bedside table to read—George Eliot—hoping to fall back asleep. But the novel only intrigued you for hours. Distracting from that anticipation long enough for it to come sooner than you expected.
It was dark, but it was no later than six-thirty.
You approached the door with a heavy heart, sliding your fluffy socks across the wooden floor. The reveal of the woman on your porch caused your body to heat up once more. She turned around, still dressed in the clothes from earlier.
“Hey,”
“Hey…”
Pressing her lips into an awkward line. “Nice porch.”
Scrunching your eyebrows at the compliment, you abandoned the door while it was ajar. Telling her to enter without losing your dignity. Ellie stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. “Shoes off.” You tell her, waving a hand, carelessly.
Walking to the kitchen, you threw onto the stove a metal kettle filled water. While your innate anger was healing, there was still pridefulness about you. You had to have some sort of control over any situation that you’re in. Ellie came to your house; this conversation was on your terms. And it was going to stay that way.
Ellie had navigated around your living room, feeling the softness of the carpet under her feet. I did good. She thought. Ellie taking part in the decision making for your accommodations was true. She wanted to give you the absolute best, because she knew she was going to need some time alone.
Appearing from around the corner, you leaned against the mahogany frame lining the entrance to the living room. With your arms stubbornly crossed over your chest. “You have about seven to eight minutes before that kettle goes off, and when it does, this conversation is over.”
She slid the hat from her head, dragging it down to the place over her belly button. Kneading the fabric with her thumbs. “Do you not want me here?” Her voice cracked, hands smacking down at her sides. “Because we can talk another time—“
“Six minutes.”
Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “You know, what?” Ellie scoffed, striding past you toward your kitchen. Irritation rushing through her nerves. It confused her how she could be so obsessed with someone who might’ve been more stubborn than herself.
You followed her into the kitchen. “What the hell are you doing?”
The woman reached for the kettle, taking it off the small flame. Flicking off the fire, she turned to look at you. “You’re not gonna give me six minutes to explain myself— I’m not gonna let you rush this.”
“I’m not rushing anything.”
Narrowing her eyes, she crossed her arms. Leaning her back against the counter, coolly. “Are you seriously insulting my intelligence, right now?” Ellie raised an eyebrow, mocking words that you’ve said in the past.
Squinting your eyes, glaringly, you scoff. “Just… Talk, Ellie.” You waved your hand, leaning on the threshold bordering the kitchen and the small foyer. Perhaps, you were pushing it a bit too far.
The auburn-haired woman sighed behind speaking. Placing her hands on the edge of the counter. “When I left… It was an immediate decision— made in the middle of the night in a farmhouse I shared with my girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, and my kid.” She began, eyeing you intently. “I left my family behind, y/n, including Maria and Tommy and anyone else in this fucking community that I knew.” Her hands moved as she spoke, passionately. “In that moment, I don’t think I ever planned to come back. There was nothing to come back to…
Then, I met you. When I thought I traveled so far for nothing— I met you.” Her olive eyes looked to the ceiling, thinking. While your heart blundered under your ribs. “Coming back was never my intention, and I left that way. So, when I walked through those doors… I had a lot of work to do. A lot of bridges to mend and gain the trust of again— which I’m still doing, by the way.”
Her hand jutted out, before slapping against her thighs. “I didn’t mean to ghost you like that. Truthfully, I was overwhelmed.” The woman confessed, scratching the back of her head. “For the first two weeks, I was begging for Dina to let me see JJ, my son. For the next, I was arguing with Tommy for letting Abby go— it was a lot. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to put any of that on you.” Pursing your lips, you nodded. “You’ve been through enough… I was protecting you. I wanted you to just focus on settling in.”
“Well, it was hard settling in without you.” It almost came out like a whisper—a little louder than a whisper. Followed by a dry, stubborn chortle. “I spent months on the road with you, and it’s like you just hung me out to dry. That fucking sucked.” Averting your eyes, you peered at the shining floorboards.
She nodded, frowning at your downcast expression. But, there was an element of proudness. Give or take a few weeks back, you’d argue her down over anything. However, this time, vulnerability leaked from you. Poured from your words and demeanor like liquid gold. “I know, and I’m really sorry. It was fucked up. But it will never happen again— I swear to you.”
“What if something else comes up?” You question, chewing on the skin inside your lip.
“I’ll clue you in— every time.”
You hummed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the status on you and Dina?”
Ellie rubs her nose with her index finger, ready to answer your rapid-fire questions. “Cordial co-parents.”
“Does she know about us?”
A goofy smile spreads across her plump lips. “We’re an us?”
Narrowing your eyes at her, fighting a little grin, you responded. “Answer the question, Ellie!”
“Oh, my God! Yes, she knows about us, and she’s happy for me.” With amused features, she begins to slowly approach you. “Now, are you done with the twenty questions game? Because you haven’t accepted my apology once…” She pouted, sliding her hands over your arms, pulling them from their crossed position.
Batting your eyes at her, feigning thought. The touch of her fingers on you sparked a fire, setting your skin ablaze. Even if it was in your best interest not to accept her apology, you probably still would. The way her eyes looked into you with such gentleness—it couldn’t be replicated by anyone else. “I accept your apology…” You admit, grazing your fingers up the sleeves of her flannel.
“Fuck, yes!” She wasted no time to embrace you, wrapping her arms around your neck. Tightly, you wrapped your arms around her back, leaning your head over her shoulder. “I missed you. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you?”
“You have no choice but to make it up to me.” You spoke against her exposed skin, pecking the side of her neck. “For the sake of lost time.”
Ellie giggled at the brush of your lips, pulling away with raised eyebrows. “Oh, shit. I almost forgot— be right back.” She runs to your front door pulling it open, and leaning to the side to grab a flipped canvas that was leaning against the outside brick wall. It was the portrait you were considering buying at the art store. “Housewarming present!” She grinned, presenting it in front of herself.
You matched her smile, reaching out to take it from her. “That woman is totally gay for making this.”
“So gay. I feel bad for her husband.”
Sharing a laugh, you look back at her, setting the canvas to the side against the wall. Walking up to her, you grabbed her face, caressing the skin of her cheeks. Musing at her earthy features, taking them all in like you’d never see her again. The last time you saw her, it’s like you took it for granted—not knowing if it was going to be a while before you got to look at her the way you wanted to. Leaning into her, you pressed your lips against hers, unabashedly. Her hands found comfort at the divot of your waist, pulling you flush against her.
Sliding your hands down to the nape of her neck, the kiss deepened. You whined into her mouth when she slipped her tongue between your lips. With the combination of her grip on your waist and the taste of her lips, you wanted to merge your bodies—so she could never leave your side again. You’ve survived enough tragic loss; was it so bad to want this one thing? The touch of your troubled lover.
Ellie backed you against the wall, muttering against your lips. “I wanna take my time with you…” She began to trail hot kisses over your cheek, down your jaw, to the sensitive parts of your neck. “Show you…” Smack. “Just how much…” Smack. “I love you.”
Under the waistband of your jeans, you throbbed, but the thing beating inside your chest swelled and beat louder. “Y— You love me?” The tips of your fingers scratched at her scalp, comfortingly. As she pulled her face from your neck, her freckled cheeks flushed.
“Yeah, I do.” Her thumb came up to caress your jaw. “I really do.”
That was your cue to completely devour her. You pulled her upstairs, into your bedroom, to ravish her—to ravish each other. Stripping from your clothes to come unto one another with a sickening love. Her lips traced every part of your body; suckling, nibbling, tonguing down the most sensitive parts. Pulling moans from your diaphragm, seamlessly. She cooed for you and spoke filthily in your ear while touching you with a gentle firmness that only she could replicate over and over—making you come undone hard. As if the universe came from within you.
Stars, planets, galaxies—celestial bodies!
You and Ellie were two halves of one whole. Everything that led up to that beach happened with the purpose of bringing the scorned together. To cancel it out, blossoming something much greater. Somehow, you proved to each other that you were both worth saving. No matter the sin. No matter the guilt. It was all worth it to end up wrapped in her arms, skin to skin, caressing her battered epidermis.
As months progressed, gearing up for the spring season, Ellie had long moved her stuff in. Her easel and unfinished works nestled in the guest room. Her clothes were stuffed beside yours in the drawer before your bed, and the closet beside your door. Bringing in sunrises with sleepy, feathered kisses and innocent touches. It was a dream you both got the chance to live out.
This wasn’t enduring or surviving—it was living. Experiencing life.
With your hands covered in dirt, replanting a radish, joyful voices were behind your back. Looking over your shoulder, a tiny frame was trotting toward you, calling your name. Ellie in his trail, with her hands in her pockets.
Gasping, you turned around with a grin. “Hey, buddy!” You opened your arms for him to promptly land in them. Keeping your hands far from his jacket so the soil wouldn’t dirty him up.
“Careful, JJ, she’s working!” She tried, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, Ellie, it’s fine.” You waved a dirty hand, sliding them off your fingers, dropping them onto the grass. So you could reach under his arms to hoist him onto your hip. The sun landed just right on his little head, sparkling off his small growing teeth.
Ellie’s lips curled at the sight. “He wanted to come visit you at work before I dropped him off.” She meandered toward you, pecking your lips.
“Just JJ? Or you, too?”
“Both of us, whatever.” Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “Plus, I had to remind you of our dinner date tonight— its mandatory. You can’t be late.” Her fingers pushed fallen pieces of your hair from your forehead.
Once you had gotten into the grove of gardening, time flew by. It would go from seven in the morning to eight in the afternoon like it was nothing. Causing you to miss out on some of the plans you made with your generous lover. “You’ve been reminding me since I got up this morning. Trust me, I remember, Ellie.” You squeezed his chubby cheek, cooing at him. “Ugh, I love him.” You gushed, peering between him and your girlfriend.
“Oh!” You pulled a folded-up paper from your back pocket. “JJ, you wanna do me a big favor?”
His eyebrows lifted, grinning.
“Give your mama back this recipe for me, all right?” He takes the paper in his hands, preparing to unfold it. “Promise me you’ll give it to her…”
“I promise!”
“Okay, bud. Tuck it tight into your pocket until you get there.”
Instead of unfolding, he pushed it into the pocket of his coat, messily. Patting it, to let you know it was inside. Kissing him on his cheek, you put him back on the ground. Eyes glancing at the watch on your wrist. “Well, I gotta get back to work.” Your hand found hers by her side, leaning your body toward her arm. “Thanks for visiting me, babe. Letting me see that beautiful face of yours.”
Ellie blushed, averting her glazing eyes. You leaned your head closer to hers, warmly kissing her cheek. “My pleasure…”
“I’m sure.” You teased, inconspicuously biting her ear. Quick enough that it went unseen to the surrounding people, and JJ as he played with the leaves sticking out of the garden. Ellie released an airy sigh, narrowing her eyes at you. She whined your name as if she were embarrassed. “Don’t be like that— you know I love you.”
“I love you more… But you have to chill. Mrs Hayworth is right there.”
“You don’t know Mrs Hayworth like I do.” You snicker, waving a hand to the older woman a few bins away. The salt and pepper haired woman waved, sending a teasing wink. Ellie looked back at your with confused, and slightly horrified, features. “I’ll tell you about it later. At the dinner I’m not going to be late to.”
“And you better not.” Ellie poked you, with pouty lips.
“Ellie, I won’t.”
“Okay, I believe you.” She kissed you one more time. A little longer. A little deeper. “I won’t keep you from the vegetables anymore. JJ, say buh-byes.” He jumps from a squat, waving his hand with a smile. “I’ll see you later. C’mon, kid.” Ellie hoisted him up into her hip and began walking back the way she came to deliver him to Dina’s. Leaving you with metaphorical heart eyes, pulling your gloves back onto your hands.
And, when later came; over a hearty chicken dinner prepared by Ellie Williams herself, a shiny silver band was presented to you in the pages of a book. Laying over an underlined and highlighted excerpt of the book—something you highlighted. It was a novel you had finished sometime between the end of December and early January.
“‘What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life–to strengthen each other in all labour, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?’” Ellie had recited, evenly. With not a speckle of wavering, or awkwardness, or pause—unless it was intentional. “Adam Bede. Your favorite book… I hope it’s your favorite book.”
Jumping from your chair across from her, you leaped into her arms after placing the book into the dinner table. Pecking your lips across her face. “Yes! Yes! Ellie, a million fucking times, yes!”
“I didn’t even ask the question.” She laughed in your ear, looking up at you with dilated pupils.
Pulling back, you narrowed your tearing eyes at her. “You don’t have to. I already said yes.”
“But isn’t that the exciting part… Popping the question?”
You scrunched your eyebrows. “I thought the exciting part was me saying yes to marrying you…?”
Ellie spent days studying George Eliot, hours setting up the dinner, and minutes shaking with anxiety. Working herself up to saying those magic four words, only for your to swipe the chance right from under her. And, honestly, she loved you more for it. “All right, can I at least put the damn ring on your finger?”
“‘Course, you can, Els.” You pull the book toward you, opening it up on the page with the ring. Ellie takes it from your fingers, glancing at you with opalescent olive eyes. She slid it onto your ring finger, delicately twisting the band around. You grinned, hopelessly, with your bottom lip between your teeth.
Her hand trailed up your arm, squeezing. “My lucky charm…” She muttered, thoughtfully.
“I’m all yours.” You lean close to her lips, glancing at them. “And you’re all mine.”
Neither of you were able to finish the dinner while it was hot.
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rite-the-wrongs · 13 hours ago
Text
*chugs a full half and half Monster Rehab*
So, you know how Darkseid is looking for the Anti-Life Equation? Well, Danny and the other Halfas are kinda Anti-Alive. Idk, my mind is going to how Thanos is trying to impress Lady Death in the weirdest ways possible (like killing half the universe or making her side piece immortal), and changing the names to Darkseid and Danny.
Darkseid attacking the earth was far from a rare occurrence. Usually his attacks were centered on the Justice League, but around every 1 out of 5 times he would just show up on a regular Tuesday with his army pouring through various Boom Tubes in every major city.
This wasn’t even the first time Darkseid had attacked like this since Danny had joined the League. The only difference was that instead of flying to Fawcett City to help Captain Marvel fight the invaders there, Danny had been in Gotham helping Bats and Diana with an artifact smuggling ring. The two of them immediately got in the Bat-Plane and headed towards Metropolis as fast as they could and Danny had been dragged along.
Darkseid was already holding Superman by the neck when they flew overhead. Diana jumped out to help Supergirl fight some messed up guy in a pink robe while the two Superboys were beating up an old lady. Batman gained Darkseid’s attention by firing missiles at the space tyrant which froze him to the ground and knocked the struggling Superman from his grip.
Darkseid’s glare followed the plane as it flew overhead. Then it started actually following as his Omega Beams burst forward.
“Hang on!” Phantom yelled, grabbing ahold of Batman and turning them both intangible just as the beams destroyed the plane around them.
He gently flew Bats on the ground. Bats did his customary grunt of approval he gave out if you saved him from certain death and ran to help the two heroines take out cloak man as Danny flew over to help take down the grandma. A few other heroes were focusing on keeping the Parademons flooding through the portal contained. Danny recognized a few, mainly Steel, Booster Gold, and Black Lightning, but there were even more that he didn’t.
He turned back to his own fight just in time to avoid getting hit by the old lady’s baton.
“Sorry, Grandma!” Phantom smirked, phasing through the attack. “Any chance I can let you pinch my cheeks and we call it a day?”
“Temping, porkchop, but an old lady needs her hobbies. And conquering planets is one of Granny’s favorites,” the old lady laughed swinging at him a few more times, only for each blow to pass through him like the last.
“Well, next time we’ll just invite you to bingo night,” Danny remarked, grabbing her wrist on the last blow and twisting it behind her back. The older Superboy tackled her through the Halfa as the younger one flew up high and plummeted feet first into her head, knocking Granny out.
The fighting seemed to be winding down. Diana had the guy in the pink robe tied up in her lasso while Batman ran over to help the Atom close the Boom Tube and Supergirl flew over to help her cousin fight Darkseid.
The only fight that was still going strong was Superman and Darkseid. Neither Titan was willing to bow to the other. Supergirl flew in between them, snapping Darkseid’s head to the side with a well placed kick. The space tyrant staggered for a moment before grabbing her leg and throwing her at Superman. The two Kryptonians fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs as Darkseid charged up his Omega Beams.
Danny didn’t even think. One second he was floating next to Jon and the next he had teleported in between the ruler of Apokolips and the two Kryptonians. He barely managed to throw up a shield in time. The Omega Beams shook the shield and kicked up dust around it, but Phantom gritted his teeth and managed to keep it steady. He only let the shield finally fall once the dust had settled.
“Impressive, child. Not even a Lantern Ring can shield from my Omega Beams. What are you?”
“You know, just a dead guy who doesn’t really know how to stay dead,” Danny chatted, keeping Darkseid’s attention on him. The portal was directly behind the tyrant. Wonder Woman and the Superboys threw their respective bad guys back through the portal.
“How can you be both dead and alive?” Darkseid asked. If he was confused, he didn’t let it show. Batman gestured at the two Supers behind Danny. They gave him a small nod and looked at the tyrant. Danny raised a hand to stop them.
“Back everyone up and cover your ears,” Danny whispered under his breath at a level only the four supers could hear. The Superboys quickly got everyone away from the portal while Superman and Supergirl gave him looks of confusion, but eventually relented. The entire time Darkseid’s attention was on Danny and Danny alone.
“Guess I’m just that stubborn,” Danny chuckled at the dictator. “I died, it didn’t fully stick, now here I am as a ghost.”
“Breathtaking.”
“You know what else is breathtaking?” Danny sucked in as much air as he could, not that he really needed it, and released a wail.
At once, all windows on the street shattered. Everyone covered their ears and the heart breaking cry sweep through the area. The Supers all collapsed to their knees, the sound even worse for those with super hearing. Tears threatened to spill from everyone’s eyes. Everyone but Darkseid.
The Dictator of Apokolips seemed almost stunned. Blood streamed from his nose and probably his ears, though those were hidden in his helmet. The sound waves slammed into him and he did nothing to fight back as the waves set him careening head over heels back towards the portal.
Darkseid barely managed to grab the edge of the portal and the wail stopped and Danny fell to his knees. White rings flickered around him and started to change him back into Fenton, but he managed to stop them before anyone could who wasn’t already looking could see. And the only one looking was Darkseid.
“Someone close the portal!” Batman yelled. All of the heroes staggered to their feet and tried to run to the Mother Box as Darkseid just stares at Phantom.
“Such beautiful cries of pain,” Darkseid muttered. His gaze never left the exhausted Phantom. He realized almost too late that the heroes were going for the Mother Box. He charged up his Omega Beams and shot them at the closest hero, Wonder Woman. She managed to ricochet them off her bracelets, but the beams kept coming back for her. The other heroes had to back up in fear of getting hit or getting in the Amazonian’s way.
Suddenly, a yellow blur swept through the area, knocking Diana out of the way are replacing her with an unconscious Parademon. A figure, this one white and red, landed on the Mother Box, destroying the device. Finally, a red blur ran in and punched Darkseid in the face, sending the tyrant careening through the closing portal.
“Sorry we’re late.” Flash chuckled, as a frustrated Kid Flash and Impulse stopped behind him. “What’d we miss?”
A series of groans ripped through the heroes as they just sat down and waited for the Javelin to get there for med evac.
—————————————————————————
You’d think Danny’s first time fighting Darkseid would be a bigger deal, but it was honestly not as big of a deal as everyone made it out to be. Danny had been fighting genocidal inter-dimensional tyrants since he was 14. What was one genocidal space tyrant making the list?
Batman apparently didn’t think it no big deal, though, if the worried version of the patented Bat-glare and Bat-grunt were anything to go off of. It had been a few days since the fight and the Bat had finally managed to wrangle everyone who had been involved in the Metropolis fight to the Watchtower for a debrief.
The meeting was supposed to start five minutes ago, but only the Flash was still missing. Danny, Conner, and Kara had been making jokes about it to a groaning Kid Flash and a pouting Impulse when the Boom Tube opened.
Everyone jumped to the ready. Batman pulled out a Batarang. Wonder Woman readied her lasso. Superman, Super girl, and the younger Superboy all started floating while their eyes glowed red. The older Superboy got into a fighting stance that Booster Gold quickly copied. The Atom shrank. Black Lightning’s hands sparked with electricity while Danny’s hands glowed with ectoplasm. The two speedsters vibrated in place.
They were ready for anything to come through. Except for a box of chocolates, a bouquet of roses, and a severed head of a yellow, bald alien. As quickly as it opened, the portal closed again. Kid Flashes summed it up best.
“What the fuck?” The yellow speedster yelled.
“Is that-“ Diana piped up, only for Superman to interrupt.
“It’s Mongul,” the Man of Steel growled.
“Who would send a severed warlord’s head with a bunch of romantic gifts?” The Atom piped up from where he stood on Booster’s shoulder.
“Well if it’s not poisoned, dibs on the chocolate,” Impulse gave a nervous laugh.
Batman and Black Lightning approached the table. Batman took a device of his belt and scanned the head then chocolate, each one coming back clean. Lightning picked up the bouquet and found a note.
“To Phantom,” he read out loud. “Your screams of agony resonated through my very being. You are the answer to my billion year search for the Anti-Life Equation. Join me and together we can enslave the universe to our will. Darkseid.”
The room fell into silence. Everyone had various looks of disgust on their face. The silence was eventually broken by Danny groaning and rubbing his eyes with his palms.
“Why do I only attract fruitloops?” He yelled up to the ceiling.
“GUYS!” A red blur yelled as he burst into the room. Flash had finally arrived. “I saw Desaad buying flowers in central city! And then Granny goodness showed up with a box of chocolates and they Boom Tubed away! Hey, they actually looked a bit like these. Holy shit! Is that Mongul?”
Black Lightning just handed the Scarlet Speedster the note. Flash summed it up the best.
“What the fuck?”
Idk, let me know if I got to continue.
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