#but who knows. i guess it really depends on who you are. how sorry you actually am. how much you understand what you did and how you hurt

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Sorry if you've already covered this, but I was scrolling socials and saw that the San Antonio zoo got a large donation to expand their savanna habitat. The only thing that jarred me as I read through their expansion plans was apparently they're going to be outfitting some 'safari' vehicles so guests can be taken into the habitat to feed and interact with the animals (from within the vehicle). I was always under the impression that this kind of interaction wasn't necessarily good for either the humans or the animals-- is there a way it can be done ethically?? Anyway, I just thought it was interesting!

Ooo, okay, your question aligned with a thing I've been chewing on for a while, so let's talk ~ethics~ and ~philosophy~ aka this is gonna be a bit long. I do promise I'll answer your question, though!

The first thing I want to note is that you're really asking about two different things, which are almost always conflated these days when it comes to talking about animals: welfare (is the animal happy / healthy / safe) and ethics (is what's happening good / moral / acceptable). It's really important that we distinguish between the two, because welfare is an objective measure of physical and mental wellbeing, and ethics are a human construct that involves subjective interpretation.

A useful but highly oversimplified example of this is the bothering of cats for online videos. Pestering a cat to get a funny reaction once in a while may not impact their overall welfare. Welfare is the cumulative impact of an animal's experiences, which means that single acute moments may not weight heavily on the entire balance. If the cat is healthy, fed well, enriched, and has a good and positive bond with their humans, those momentary irritations for videos might not matter much. That doesn't mean that you or I, as viewers, might not still find bothering an animal for internet clout ethical. We can believe that humans shouldn't ever unnecessarily put their pet through negative experiences, and we can think that doing so just because it brings the human money or fame is distasteful. But! We have to recognize that as used in this example, those ethical stances aren't inherently tied to the animal's welfare state. Many people I know who dislike cat-bothering don't care if the animal has good welfare outside of that situation - they don't like that the situation occurs at all, ever.

So, back to your question. You're wanting to know if it's okay for a zoo to have a drive-through aspect of an exhibit where people get to feed the animals. You're asking if it's safe for the humans and for the animals (which is a welfare question) and if that type of interaction is ethical. I could just tell you that of course it's fine, San Antonio is an AZA zoo and their accreditation only allows them to do "good things" but that's now how it works here (nor is it the reality of accreditation).

The safety aspect is one I'm not worried about. It's actually a pretty common thing for reputable facilities to do some sort of vehicle tour in savanna habitats, whether in the guest's vehicle (safari parks) or on a hay-ride type vehicle (zoos). Many of those allow guests to feed out specific parts of their animals' diets. Offhand, I know Tampa and Fossil Rim both have feeding tours like this in a staff-driven vehicle. It's not specified from the zoo's press release, but I can guarantee you that guests will not be driving those vehicles - which means the interactions will be proctored by staff and what people are feeding out will be carefully regulated. The habitat is going to have rhino, giraffe, zebra, ostrich, and antelope/gazelle, and I'd guess that the drive-through is going to stick to those latter two and maybe additional species. Those are animals where a car is an appropriate safety barrier.

As to if it's ethical to do? It's spiny question, because it depends very directly on the ethical perspectives of the person you're asking. I think it's fine - you may not. Let's break down the different things that come into consideration on the ethical side, and my responses:

"The zoo is commercially exploiting animals by letting people pay to get closer." If the issue is that people paying to get closer to animals is using them for money, well, that's the business model of a zoo (non-profit or not, they still need revenue to operate). So IMHO it's not like it's "less ethical" than anything else the zoo is doing, using that framing.

"Zoo animals should be allowed to be wild and undisturbed by guests driving in their habitats." Zoo animals aren't wild, and their entire lives revolve around humans and the human work schedule. As long as a vehicle entering the habitat doesn't have a negative welfare impact (e.g. they're not scared of it), it's not very different from the rest of the routine of managed care.

"Feeding zoo animals will encourage people to try to feed wild animals." Thanks to obnoxiously viral content creators, people are going to try to feed wild animals no matter what. Doing it in a proctored situation where a staff member can try to do some education at the same time is probably the best possible scenario.

"People just do those tours to get close to cool animals." People are always going to want to touch the animals. If being able to pay for a tour keeps them from jumping the fence to try to pet a rhino, great.

There's one more that I want to talk about separately, because I think it's where a lot of confusion gets generated. It's this idea that "Humans shouldn't be interacting with animals at all, any interaction is unethical and bad for the animals." This is a welfare crossover, but not one actually informed by welfare science in a captive situation. And I think it's because the internet lacks nuance. Yes, it is absolutely correct to say that with wild animals, you should never ever try to feed a deer out of your car (or similar). It is incredibly harmful to those animals on both an acute and chronic timeline. But thanks to the rage-bait algorithms on social media and people endlessly justifying doing stupid, dangerous, bad things (and getting pushback for it), there's been a lot of bleed between the public's understanding of what wild animal welfare is and what captive animal welfare is. Combine that with the reality that captive animal welfare cannot be assessed or diagnosed from a single context-less clip, and that people with strong beliefs and no practical experience with the field/species/individual will pass judgement loudly to their audiences...

The result is almost a reflexive believe in many sectors of the internet that any human-animal interaction that isn't couched as a "rescue" is inherently unethical, for reasons people often can't articulate. Which is why, I think, so often people want to support certain aspects of captive animal management but feel guilty for doing so. I see this a lot in the questions the blogs gets, and I'm glad people feel comfortable asking, because it's important to think through not just the individual instances but the patterns leading us to question them.

So yes, I'd say that a staff-led experience in a vehicle chosen for safety is an ethical way to proctor an interaction between guests and certain savanna species. It will vary by facility - I'm always more wary about guests driving, although many drive-through safaris are fine - and by setup. I think what San Antonio is doing will be fine, though, and will be interested to see / hear about the setup when they start up.

If you've got a question about ethical captive management, I'm always happy to talk about it - but I'd invite you to poke around in your head a little and send me not just your question in the ask, but your thinking about why or why not something might be concerning. It's great practice for understanding why you relate to animal ethics the way you do, and where those beliefs come from.

[kdinjenzen]

Damn feels like this entire thing is a lose lose situation. Depending on what the patents being sued over are it's like, Nintendo wins and eastablishes that large companies can sue over games using similar mechanics OR Nintendo loses and now we have a precedent that a smaller company can just steal the patents of someone else, which means larger companies can do it.

Feels like no matter what smaller creators just get one more thing to worry about, even without knowing what the specific patent is. Nintendo might not be in the habit of enforcing it on other creature catching games but like, what about other places?

Sorry if this is too long and rambly I just sorta keep working into circles in my head and on top of all this ai stuff getting pushed everywhere it's really depressing as someone who wants to make my own games someday

No it legitimately is not lose lose.

Suing someone for using/stealing something you made without paying you is a very normal thing.

You want those things to exist because it protects small creators and inventors too.

Nintendo choosing one particular target for violations does not mean that everyone else will be hit, Nintendo gets to pick and choose because that’s how patent law works.

They are not forced by law to the enforce these same things on anyone else who has used them before.

PocketPair SPECIFICALLY did a bunch of shit to antagonize and force Nintendo’s hand on this.

Nintendo legitimately does not give two fucks about creature catching games. They don’t care. That’s not what this is about. In fact we DONT EVEN KNOW what parents PocketPair infringed upon yet, everyone is just ASSUMING it has to do with one thing or another.

Y’all gotta stop making random guesses and start asking next logical step questions. The full info on the lawsuit will come out sooner rather than later, so just be patient for THAT PART later.

Also Nintendo has helped other monster catching games launch on their platforms and even partnered with Capcom to have two from them be console exclusives for a LONG TIME until the remasters for those games dropped on multi platform later on. Nintendo also happily features indie game companies who have and continue to make monster catching games alongside their Nintendo Directs/Indie Directs.

Don’t miss the forest for the trees on this lawsuit. PocketPair was the group that picked this fight, Nintendo is just choosing how they want to end it. Which is well within the rights of a patent holder to do, be they a huge company, a small company, or a singular person.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Sorry I like my men toxic and nobody can convince me that Tseng would give you a fully healthy relationship. He’s just not the worst guy you could date. So here are some of Tseng’s toxic habits. I wish we could post powerpoint slides. Like I guess NSFW for my choice of words. Edit: Okay I’ve typed more. It’s NSFW, it wasn’t that when it was just scattered notes i swear. granted, this is still scattered notes

Forgiveness?

Tseng. The man you forgive a million times because someone like him is so hard to come by. Even if you’re a person who doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You know that it would be impossible to find anyone nearly as good as him despite his mistakes. Tseng knows this too, taking advantage of your level of comfort in him. The connection between the two of you so deep there wasn’t a possibility you could view life without him. Tseng creates soul bonds with his significant other, he has to have all of you fully invested in him. You would also want for absolutely nothing, he can provide everything you could ever want so you can focus on the future you want to build for yourself. Whether it’s school, art, creating your own business, etc. Tseng is there to guarantee everything goes according to plan if it’s financially or if he has to pull a few strings. Seeks out people who would be reluctant to replace him but aren’t very co-dependent. If you manage to leave Tseng, say good riddance to developing any new relationships. He’s either going to make any of your new significant others vanish. If it’s someone he can’t kill, he’ll find a way to scare them away from you or find a way to put them in prison. 

My alternative reasoning as to why all of your other relationships would fail? The dick of course. Yes. The unbelievable wee wee. There’s not a soul in the world that would be able to learn your body the way he does. Have you ever heard of people being nearly ready to pass away because they lost their dick? Well if you haven’t, you have now. Even thinking of him fucking someone else the way he does with you is enough to make you want to vomit. That shit will have you sliding down the wall crying. You can try all you like to fuck someone else, it won’t compare. The way he touches you immediately sends electricity down your spine. It’s all in the way he knows how to touch you. Where to touch you. A subtle brush of his fingers along the small of your back while you’re riding him. An almost tickling sensation that causes you to press yourself against him as he leans up to kiss the most sensitive parts of your neck. How about when all he needs to do is look into your eyes and knows exactly how you want to be fucked? You can’t think of a time you had to ask him to do anything, your minds were seemingly in perfect sync. Always so so willing to please you. “So you wanna fuck other people huh?” He whispers in your ear mockingly while driving his cock deeper into you. Your knees pressed against your chest, legs hooked in Tseng’s arms as he ensures you won’t slip out of your position. No, you really don’t, not when he’s reminding you of what you’ll be missing. You’ll be calling him the next day for more, innocently asking for him to come over to “talk”. There won’t be much talking, just Tseng bending you over the kitchen table. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks himself into you so deeply, ignoring the way your hands push against his abdomen in a half-hearted attempt to slow his tempo down. 

There aren’t many people in this world that would be nearly as attentive as he is. The way he can easily tell all of your needs within moments of talking to you. Reads you like a book and it can’t help but make your heart flip, cause like, ‘who sent this man?’ and why does he know all of your emotional needs and exactly how to take care of them? Tseng carries aspects of his job along with his relationships. The same way he gets to know his enemies closely, he’ll do the same to you. Memorizes all of your sayings, even can predict what your response would be to most questions or statements. It’s almost more eerie than heart warming. With this comes the ability to manipulate you endlessly. Gaslighting has never been easier honestly. Lying to you about anything or forcing you to agree with his point of view would be child’s play. The way he carries himself during an argument, so well composed, rarely letting his emotions control him paired with the way he effectively strings his words together to soothe you. His calmness will make you question why you’re even so worked up. Tseng isn’t, so why are you? Tseng makes you see everything through rose colored lenses, and despite your aching heart when he hurts you, Tseng could never be wrong in your eyes. He only does what’s best for you. 

Gaslighting? Probably.

Truly remembers every word you’ve said to him and will use it against you. This goes back into my last little paragraph but deeper? Uses traumatic things from your past so you can believe that maybe your emotions, in regards to something Tseng has done wrong, are nothing more than misguided reactions. Will have you think that maybe you’re projecting your fears from past experiences onto him when you challenge him or try to hold him accountable for any wrongdoings. Certainly will guilt trip you knowing exactly what makes you feel like you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world. He doesn’t have to do anything outrageous. It’s the way Tseng subtly changes his body language. Slumping his shoulders just a bit, the way his brow furrows at your words or actions, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor like a scolded child. To put the cherry on top, it’s the ever so slight change in his tone of voice. The wavering in his tone as he speaks softly, not too soft for it to sound out of the ordinary, but enough for you to believe you’ve hurt his feelings. Usually resulting in you coddling him, now you’re the one apologizing because you “never meant to make him feel bad” even if it’s because you were grilling him for something as major as fucking his boss behind your back. Believing that it must be your fault if he’s off sleeping with others. Master manipulator for sure. He’s good at lying, like we see what he does for a living.

Like to make you cry because he's the only one that can also make you better. At times he’ll do this just to make sure he’s got complete control over you still. Wrapping his arms around you in such a calming way, his warmth and sweet words coaxing you to relax against him so he could “make it all better again.” More makeup sex. Somehow gets a kick out of cheering you back up. One minute you were sobbing because his words were a little too cruel and now you’re sobbing because he won’t stop fucking you so good. Tseng has a way he likes to position you in times like this. Having you lay on your stomach, your back arched just enough for his hips to flush against your ass as he completely sheaths himself in you, whispering in your ear asking “you still love me, right?” Christ, he has a way of making himself emotionally needy at just the right times. You can’t help but whimper, whine, and eventually choke out, through your moans, your appreciation, love, and devotion to him. Always ends with him cuming in you, some aftercare, then holding you in his arms for a majority of the night unless work calls him away.

Sometimes-y af?

He can pick and choose when he wants to pick up your relationship or not but you cannot do the same to him. Loves someone who he can come and go as he pleases with. You're so stupid and willing. Loyal to a fault, though the only person it’s negatively affecting is you. There isn’t a time you’ve turned him away thus far. Constantly taking him into your arms, babying him as though he’s some angel despite you knowing he isn’t. Tseng’s just managed to get you to the point you couldn't care less about his deceptive ways. You just want him by your side, no matter what the circumstances may be. The entire world can see the invisible leash and collar Tseng has put on you, yet you manage to stay blind to it all. You’ll wait like the good little puppy he’s molded you into. 

It’s a wonder he can be such a gentleman and a conniving son of a bitch. The kind to end an argument by demanding to be left alone but will ask “what you're doing tonight” a few hours later---he's going to fuck you—giving you a reason to keep accepting him back into your loving arms. He knows you’re a gift from the Goddess but he can’t help that he likes being toxic at times. It’s why he treats you so well and the sex is so unbelievably good. He needs to cement himself into your soul so he can continuously get away with everything, so things can continue to go exactly as he wants it to. Tseng prefers a life with you that has no consequences. For him. You, however, have to deal with punishment if you dare treat him in a similar manner to his treatment of you. Will show his displeasure with hurtful words and by neglecting you. If that doesn’t have the desired effects he’s willing to scare you into submission. Once again, nothing too outrageous that he would do. Tseng might just choke you a bit, push you against a wall, or if you try to run he’ll hold you against him tightly. Whispering into your ear about making you disappear if he can’t have you the way he wants you. Telling you how he does so much for you and he at the very least deserves you on your best behavior at all times or else he might just have to break that pretty neck of yours. Isn’t too big on yelling, he can get his point across just fine without having to do so.

Stalker? Obviously.

Tseng has trackers in your cars, phone, and bags. It doesn’t matter where you go, he’s going to find you. He’s definitely followed you from location to location, making sure you were doing what you said you would be. Sure he’s always been able to track you, but that isn’t the same as seeing you. You could be doing anything in the areas you claimed to be in. Tseng is even familiar with the faces of employees of each store you frequent. Has tracked down every family member and friend of yours, performing thorough background checks on all of them. Even closely looking after some of the people closest to you. Tseng has to approve of the people you hang around of course, he won’t tolerate anything that he feels is a negative influence and will force them out of your life. Tseng will sit outside of your house for hours after leaving, wondering if someone will come over. If he knows someone is coming over he’s got your home mic’d. Listening to all of your conversations, evading your most private conversations. Hates to hear when you vent about him, makes it hard to come back to you and act nice when in reality he wants to correct you for telling his business to your friends and family. Doesn’t mind when you’re speaking highly of him though, you help boost his ego most of the time. Getting space from Tseng is impossible. Your attempts to drive around and find a nice parking spot are all for nothing. He’s following right behind you. Is definitely going to block you in with his own car, angrily getting out of his own. Once he made you leave your car where it was entirely. Pissed that you would try to get away from him at all, it doesn’t matter if it’s just for a few hours. Pushing you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back home all while yelling about how stupid you were and that you would always come back begging for him. 

He was always right about that. Nothing would stop you from wanting Tseng back if he finally decided he was done. A relationship with Tseng is either on his terms or very much a “till death do us part” 

[chaotic-goodsir]

'Stop it, Kal. I can't heal you like this.'

What's left of Kal's corporeal form grumbles loudly, but he leans into Dakkar's side and stops disintegrating quite so fast. His hand clutches the back of Dakkar's shirt for support, nails digging through the fabric. 'Ugh, my head.'

'You need to sit down.' Dakkar says, attempting to guide him over to the slope of the hillside. Kal collapses with all the grace of a rag doll, still half a shifting cloud of fog.

'Why don't you stop playing nanny and just heal me already?'

'I can't when there's only half of you there to heal!'

'Ugh, fine!' The fog pulls itself back into a relatively Kal-like shape. Features re-emerge slowly - the other half of Kal's face, bruised around the jaw; his left shoulder and arm, hanging limp at a painful looking angle. He grits his teeth, and Dakkar winces in sympathy.

'That looks like it hurts.'

'Really?' Kal rolls his eyes, all sarcasm. 'I hadn't noticed.'

'You're a terrible patient.'

'Oh, my apologies, your highness. It's hard to be polite when your arm's hanging out of its socket.'

'Here,' Dakkar moves in front of him, puts one hand on his left wrist and another firmly on his shoulder, ignoring the hiss of protest. 'Hold still. And don't disintegrate again, you'll mess it up.'

A faint, warm glow forms around Dakkar's hands, brightening as he closes his eyes. Carefully, he lets the magic shift the bones of Kal's arm back to where they ought to be. Kal is oddly quiet, for once. When Dakkar opens his eyes again, he's looking at him with a kind of awe. It's quickly hidden behind a satisfied smirk.

'Better?' Dakkar asks.

'No. My head's still killing me. When we get back, I need a drink.'

'A thank you would be nice, for once. And you probably shouldn't drink while you might be concussed.'

'Ways, you're boring, Dak.' Kal tests out his newly-healed arm, flexing his hand a few times, then falls back against the grass. 'Alright, fine. Thank you.'

'Don't mention it.' Dakkar says, sitting down beside him.

'Sorry I get into pointless fights so often. They deserved it, though. Bastards.'

'I think if you're the one who needs healing, they technically won the fight.'

'Eh, depends on your perspective.'

'What did they say?' Dakkar's pretty sure he can guess, but he feels the need to ask anyway. Kal scowls. Tendrils of fog still swirl around him, only just visible in the bright daylight. It's like Radiance, he explained once, but harder to control. Dakkar's never asked if it's draining in the same the way the Magic Ways are.

'Nothing worth talking about. They're too scared of me now to say it again.' he shuts his eyes, grimacing. 'It's too bright out here. My head hurts, did I mention that at all?'

Dakkar laughs. 'We can go inside, if you think you can walk?'

'My dear old dad used to say, 'walking is for people without hereditary curses that let them turn into fog.''

'I thought you never met your dad.'

Kal waves a hand. 'Well, he probably said something like that. How would I know?'

He sits up, and the tendrils swirling around him darken, forming a mist that coils itself around his body. When it settles, there's no one sitting on the hillside - only a shifting cloud of fog where Kal used to be.

Even after years of knowing Kal, watching him do that is still unnerving. Dakkar's not sure about the effects a possible concussion might have, either, but Kal seemed fine, and the fog looks same as it usually does.

He can't think of anything to say, and it's not as if he'd get a reply, so he coughs awkwardly. Somewhere in that cloud, he has the feeling Kal is laughing at his discomfort.

'Okay,' he says eventually. 'I take it that means we're heading home?'

In answer, the fog drifts over, settling around his shoulders like a cloak. As he heads back in the direction of the palace, it follows, dark against the bright white of his uniform.

[minionwater]

sallies _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

[snekdood]

Bitches on here be like "haha! I read this callout about you and i told everyone around me to ostracize you and ignore you and the reason you're alone is divinely orchestrated karma, of course, surely not me and my hand in manipulating people to hate you, surely this is some sort of divine intervention and not a smear campaign that i try to justify my actions with "its gods will" with"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You and your kind of ex-wife

Lips smashed against yours before you could even compute what was going on.

They were still as soft as ever and you opened your own so Alexia could slip her tongue inside.

"Hi," She said, pulling away slowly.

"Hi."

You smiled at her.

She looked nearly the same as when you divorced her and left the country. The same cheeks. The same nose. The same eyes. The same awkward little smile on her face.

“I missed you,” She said,” I heard from Alba you were coming home and I couldn’t believe it. I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Ale.”

Her arms were open and you stepped into them. They were just as familiar as they were when you broke up and you melted into them now.

“Sorry,” Someone said,” What the fuck?! Alexia, you’re dating now?!”

Both you and Alexia looked at Mapi in confusion.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because you just started snogging her in front of all of us,” Lucy replied, hands shoved into her pockets casually,” I thought we were meant to be meeting the new medic but, no, I guess you were really getting acquainted.”

You laughed, shaking your head fondly as Alexia pouted, her arms tightening around you just like they did years ago when Alba teased you for being mushy.

“She’s my wife,” Alexia insisted, stamping her foot.

“Ex-wife,” You butted in quickly as the team’s mouths fell open in shock. Very few of them had been on the team the same time you and Alexia had been married, childhood sweethearts that eloped the day after you both turned eighteen.

Alexia laughed nervously and you narrowed your eyes.

You recognised that laugh. You’d heard that laugh for years when she pretended to a teacher that her homework was just in her locker and that’s why she hadn’t handed it in or when she promised Eli that she wasn’t the one that broke her favourite glass cabinet and it was really her who had kicked a football right through it.

You knew that laugh very well.

“Alexia,” You said, teeth gritted,” What did you do?”

“Now, amor,” She said,” Just remember that-“

“Alexia, confess!”

“I may have forgotten to file the papers.”

“Alexia!” You snapped before sighing. A bubble of laughter emerged from your throat until you were trapped in an almost hysterical laughing fit. “We signed them together. At the kitchen table. How did you forget?”

“I promise I was going to!” She insisted,” But I had other stuff to do and it just got buried and Mama did some cleaning and she must have shredded them on accident!”

“Alexia, that was years ago! Are you saying that we’re still married?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On which answer will get me in trouble.”

Fondly, you tugged on her ponytail. “You are so lucky I love you.”

She grinned. “Enough to stay married?”

You shrugged. “Well, it’s a hassle to file the papers and work out the separation of assets again.”

“Oh, thank god.” Alexia fished something out of her pocket and it was only when she slid it onto your finger again that you recognised it as your wedding ring. She was the one that had bought them and while you knew that hers had remained on a chain around her neck, you hadn’t ever wondered what had happened to yours after you returned it.

You just assumed it had been thrown to the bottom of her jewellery box.

“Have you been carrying that around since you found out I was coming home?”

Like a professional, she skirted around your question. “Home! You need to move in again! The clothes you left all got put into a storage locker so we should probably swing by there after work. Your office is practically the same but kind of dusty so I’ll clean it up while you unpack.”

You nodded, mulling over the plan in your head. “You know that if I have back in then so does Mr Stinky.”

Alexia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You still have him?”

“Yes, Ale! Just because I moved to England doesn’t mean I abandoned my cat!”

She pursed her lips before admitting. “I think there’s still a few of his toys under the sofa. I can never manage to get them all.”

“And I want the left side of the bathroom sink.”

She nodded before freezing. “Hey! Wait, no! That’s my side! That’s always been my side! You can’t just take it!”

You flashed your ring. “You want this to work? I want the left side of the sink.”

“Well…I want…I want…I want the right side of the dresser!”

“Done!”

“Done!”

“Sorry, no,” Mapi butted in. You’d almost forgotten that you were meant to be introducing yourself to the team. “Not done. Let me get this straight. You two got married, divorced but not really and now you’ve decided to get back together?!”

You shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“But you divorced!” It was clear that she was struggling to wrap her head around this.

“It wasn’t really a breakup though,” Alexia said flippantly,” We still hooked up every time she came home. We only really tried to get a divorce because she was leaving for England. I was clingy when I was younger.”

The whole team pointedly stared at Alexia’s hands on your waist and how they hadn’t moved but to put your ring back on your finger.

“Clingier,” You amended,” And I needed to leave for more money. We decided it would just be easier to get divorced but I guess that didn’t work out.”

“Oh!” Alexia said suddenly,” I need to tell Mama! She’ll be so happy! She’s always talking about you to everyone.”

“Oh, I’m glad. I’ll have to call my Mama too. She’s always telling people that her daughter-in-law is Alexia Putellas. You’ll have to come to Sunday lunch this week. My aunts and uncles will be there.”

“Next week we’ll go to mine then,” Alexia agreed,” Mama will want you to try her paella again. She tweaked the recipe.”

“Oh, great! I love Eli’s paella. My-“

“No!” Mapi said, pointing at both of you in turn,” This is moving so quickly. I’m sorry but what the hell?!”

“Oh,” You said,” I didn’t introduce myself properly. I’m y/n. I’m the new doctor on the team. Alexia’s…well I was going to say ex but apparently we’re still married so I’m Ale’s wife! I look forward to getting to know you all.”

[laroserie]

— Various x-men characters dating a non-mutant!reader

— characters ; Scott Summers, Peter Maximoff, Kurt Wagner, Hank McCoy

— version with others characters ; not out yet

— warning ; no particular tw. talk about self estimee and doubt. (as always author has not started reading the comics and their knowledge come from the different xmen cartoon and my hazy memories of the film <3) ( also no cartoon gif for peter because i couldn't find any ... is he even in any of the xmen cartoons ), author decided that Peter has self-confidence issues, also Peter part kinda slide tracked and has more about Peter and his struggle than him dating reader whose a human ... sorry! (his part is also a bit short ...)

— Scott Summers

Scott has no particular qualm around you being a regular human, he loves you just as you are, and nothing can change that. That said, Scott cannot help himself but be, patronising at time. In his mind, you being a human just make you be at risks, you can't defend yourself if you get attacked, by others humans or mutants. He doesn't view you as weak, but, he know how fleeting life is. He isn't the greatest at expressing his feelings, and notably his worry for you.

He will also be more protective than if he was with a mutant. And it show in him being at first very against you befriending any others x-men, he very much care for most of them and he loves you very much, but he doesn't want to have those two part of his life mix up. He doesn't want you to get in dangers because of his job, but he also doesn't want you to possibly endanger one of his mission, he wasn't capable of choosing between you and one of his mission. Not to say, you are as or more important than his mission, but he was responsibilities as a X-Men and he cannot forget about them. But that said, with enough asking and pleading, making him crack and let you meet his friends and fellow X-Men.

Talking about you interacting with mutants, Scott will not let any remarks about you - well not being one - slide. He knows and understand why his friends may feel wary of humans, he get it, but you are different. You are quite literally dating him - a mutant, it couldn't make any sense for you to be against them. Scott may let it slide the first time actually, but anymore than that, and he's making them do extra session in danger room - or they aren't allowed in it, depending on who.

In general, there isn't that much of a different between how he treat his mutant or non-mutant partner, he just will be more protective and worried for them. He doesn't feel particularly insecure in your relationship - because of his mutation or your lack of mutation.

Again, he doesn't have any problems with you not being a mutant - he more so has problem being a mutant, not in general of course, but in your relationship yes. Peter can't really give an answer as to why, but if he had to guess it was probably due to this father, and the fact that he didn't want to do anything like his father did, to you. The worst is, he know damn well he isn't anything like him but he can't help but think that way.

He feels like he's going to mess your relationship up, because of what he is. He try to play it off as if it was nothing, but it's a feeling that lingers in the back of his mind often. He never truly wished to be a regular human before, and he still doesn't, but he just want your relationship to be more normal. Which isn't really possible. Peter knows that, he also knows that you don't care, about that kind of thing.

He can mask his doubts and awful self-confidence with his quirky attitude, he can fool most people pretty easily - expect you. At some point, it get to point, where you have to sit down with Peter and try to have a conversation about it, at first he will just act dumb and pretend he doesn't get what you are talking about, but his facade cracks relatively fast.

You listen, his fears and doubts. You comfort him, and assure him, that everything is fine, you reassure him that weither your relationship is 'normal' or not it's the last of your problem. You love him, he loves you and that all that matter in your eyes.

Now, Kurt could be the one that has the most difficulty dating someone that is not a mutant. He could be scared to hurt you more than anything. He's stressing out about doing or saying the worst thing, that will just break everything. One of the reason why he is friend, with his friends is because they share at least one thing - they can all relate on one crucial part of their identity - them being mutant, it's one thing that link them all together and make it at least a little bit easier to connect. You lacking that, make it hard for him. He still loves you all the same of course, but he feels like not being able to share something so crucial is sad.

So he desperately try to make it up in some way, he looks everything he can about your interests to be able to share that with you, everytime you share something about your interests Kurt will make mental note of it. And he will share a lot about what interest him in return. If you speak an another language that he doesn't know, he'll try to learn it, after all what is better than learning the language of your lover! Kurt can even teach you some german if you want to!

He wants something to link the two of you together even more. It's something he heavily crave. To be linked to you, by more than just, your love for each others.

Kurt may feel insecure at time, that you may leave him for well, a regular human, that isn't blue, has five fingers on each hands - he will try to keep it to himself, but he isn't really good at that. His insecurity just overflow and he end up offhandedly asking you while you are hanging out, if you could prefer to be dating a human rather than him. Obviously, you tell him that you don't, and ask where did this idea came from. He feels reluctant to admit as to why he asked. He feels, ashamed ? After seeing your reaction, he feels a bit silly, and even more when you comfort him and tell him that you very much prefer and could always choose to date him more than anyone else just because they are human.

On a more happy note Kurt loves seeing how amazed you are by his mutation, you never really were around mutants before - there isn't actually a ton of opportunity to meet mutants and to know that they are mutants, even if antis mutant politicians like to make people believe the contrary - most humans he met, weren't exactly thrilled by his, but you are the exactly opposite. Even after being together for a while and getting used to his mutation, there is still this curiosity and shine in your eyes when he teleport for example.

He is by far, the most chill about your relationship and you not being a mutant while he is. Well, that is if we are talking about Hank, after he accepted his entire mutation and all, which we are, Hank pre-self acceptance is different deal.

But once, Hank is settled as a scientific and has member of the X-Men, and has fully accepted his mutation, he doesn't personally really care. But sadly, a lot of people seemingly do and that's one thing that annoy him. The worst is it come from both fellow mutants, even his friends and colleagues sometime! And from regular humans. He doesn't really get why people care about him dating a non-mutant or you dating him - a mutant.

He personally try to not let it get to him, and if it does he will do everything but make you suffer because of it. It most often will result in him shutting himself in his lab for a bit of time, to calm down.

And like others, he feels like he needs to protect you because, you are so ... weak in his eyes, not in a bad way of course ! But in comparison to him you are so small and fragile. This cause Hank to usually like putting his arms around you, around you waist or on your back, to show you that he is there, and to show people around that you are his, and that they shouldn't try to hurt you in anyway.

[snowsinterlude]

playing dangerous.

c.w: gun play, peacekeeper coriolanus, fingering, rough sex, throatfucking, slapping, degrading, breeding, hate fucking, unproctected sex

based on this ask ! hope you like it anon, sorry if i got anything wrong. mwah

you could say a lot of things about coriolanus snow. you could say he was mentally unstable, that he was a whiny bitch who would throw a tantrum at any small thing that made him angry.

however, you couldn't say he was a bad fuck. not when he had your face pressed down and a gun pointed at your sopping cunt. you couldn't say he was ugly either, not with that white peacekeeper uniform hugging his body so well.

"don't worry," he whispered, biting your shoulder, "it only has one bullet." he smiled, chuckling at your clear despair, a total contrast to your soaked panties. "not as if you care, though"

"of course i do! fuck it, snow. you're the reason people call cops bastards!" you said, frowning at him as if your hips weren't bucking up on the gun. you didn't even knew if what he said was actually true.

"you should be grateful i'm not playing russian roulette on your pussy, darling." he said, thanking heaven's he handcuffed your hands before all that. "if you don't like it, i know just the right place to aim it. other than that perverted wet pussy of yours. are you a pervert? god, you're soaking wet" he said, grinding the gun in your cunt.

"aim it at your head, you sickfuck." you spat, not bothering looking at him.

"i don't know if you noticed but i have a gun pointed to your pussy, if you don't wanna get shot you should start being a good girl instead of a manic bitch." he said, slapping your ass and making your body jolt.

how the hell did it come to this?! you remembered that he had returned home after deployment and your parents made you go over to his house to give him some sweet dessert as a way to ❛thank him for his services.❜ fuck it. you hated him. if depended on you, he would have been killed by a rebel or something, but god, that's the best dick you've ever seen or felt, even if through grinding. you would never admit it to him though.

"on your knees, please." he said, a fake chivalry on his sadistic tone. and did you have any other options? of course not. so now you were on your knees, gulping down and watching him unbuckle his pants, his hand slapping your face lightly to make you wake up and stop looking so much at his eight inches shaft. "god, you're drooling so much just from looking. guess i won't have to aim a gun to your head for you to suck it." he said, and you stared at him with anger.

"you better kill me already cause i am not sucking that thing." you said.

well, all your defenses were throw away as he pointed the loaded gun to your head, smiling as you opened your mouth and engulfed him obediently, still looking at him with that angry stare in your eyes, that was soon replaced with tears as you took him. god, how could a dick taste so good?

"fuck, you're taking me so good, doll." he said, smiling as you drooled on his dick, getting it all wet from your saliva. "making such a mess, crying so much... you're so pretty when you're not running your mouth around so much." he said, grabbing your hair and making you curse mentally before he started to fuck your throat, his balls meeting your chin as you took him, giving in as you moaned against his cock.

too aggressive, you thought. but it was just as good as you imagined it to be. and he was getting just what he wanted to. he was fucking that attitude out of you, your throat taking him so well he only wondered how good it would feel to fuck your cunt. with that thought in mind, he pulled back of your mouth, and you thought you were really dumb from how you tried to get him to thrust into your mouth again. you wanted to taste him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your despair.

"i didn't even had a proper taste of your cunt and you're already dumb? thought you were stronger." he said, getting you to stand up as you were still salivating. he cleaned your tear stained cheeks, the softest thing he would do to you today. so, ripping your panties and seeing your cunt, he thrusted two fingers in it, not mindinho if you were uncomfortable. your wetness made it very clear that you weren't anywhere close to discomfort or pain. and your moans did it too.

"fuck it, get away, coriolanus!" you pleaded, not wanting to be the one moaning his name that night. and he didn’t even bother listening to you, too occupied with thrusting his entire lenght inside of you. it felt horribly good, his hot cock sloppily fucking your pussy as he fucked you in missionary, holding your left thigh to hug his waist just so he could have a better access to you. so good. so hot. it felt perfect.

you felt dumb.

your eyes closed shut as you did your best to hold in your moans, letting out a few groans and grunts as he slapped your ass, getting a hold of your other thigh and fucking you with your back against the wall, your eyes looking into his. fuck. you prayed to god that he wouldn’t end up making you say something, but god didn't seem to want to help you.

"tell me, doll," he started, groaning against your lips. "who does this pussy belongs to?" he asked, and you did your best not to answer, but the way your hips were trying to buck against his seemed as an answer. "words, bunny. use your words."

"n-no. no- i won't- fuck!" you moaned, lips opened slightly as you couldn't help but let your moans out of your mouth. you just wanted to cum already. it was too brain-mushing for you to do something other than moan and squeeze his dick inside you.

"tell me, or i'm not gonna let you cum." he said, brushing the gun on your clit, the cold metal making you mewl and cry.

"i-it's yours, c-coryo. it's yours. i'm sorry! please let me cum!" you begged, crying. he smiled, kissing your cheek and tasting your salty tear drop.

"i don't recall letting you call me coryo, bunny." he said, his dick kissing your cervix as you felt it throbbing inside you.

"o-officer! fuck, i'm sorry!" you slurred, and finally he had what he wanted.

he finally fucked the attitude out of you. not only that but he also got his dick wet. it was perfect.

"good girl." and you came, shaking on his cock as he kept thrusting in you, running for his climax.

once he did came inside you, he didn’t allow you to clean yourself, made you walk and sleep with your pussy filled by his cum.

[mayiluv]

Jealousy meter☆(Hashiras ft. Kamaboko squad)

Masterlist

Kyojuro Rengoku

█░░░░░░░░░ 10%

He isn't jealous at all ! He trust you! But he doesn't trust others just as much.

He often worries whenever he sees someone making you uncomfortable. If the person make it obvious that they are hitting on you, he won't hesitate to hold your hand and get in front of the person to proudly claim you (and to make you feel better).

"Sorry but they're taken!"

Agatsuma Zenitsu

█████░░░░░50%

He is possessive from time to time.

Like he do trusts Tanjiro and most hashiras (surprisingly) but he tends to get pretty jealous at strangers. Whenever he sees you talking to one with a little too much closeness, he run to get next to you and to kiss you. It's like you two are fighting now.

"Sorry [Name] I just wanted to make sure that they got the hint."

"Zenitsu that's my cousin-"

"THEY ARE ?!"

Sanemi Shinazugawa

████████░░ 80%

Man he's jealous...

He would clearly tell anyone that he judges too close to you to fuck off. He doesn't wants to share you. Even if you tell him there is nothing to worry about. He accept when it's the hashiras except Giyuu. I guess he got something against him.

"Get lost, she's already mine fuckface."

Genya Shinazugawa

█████░░░░░ 50%

That's a 50/50. It actually depends.

He's actually more insecure about himself and that's what makes him doubt your love for him. When he sees you with someone else he usually goes full on koala mode and stay gripped to your arm.

"When are we going?"

Kanroji Mitsuri

██░░░░░░░░ 20%

She's not jealous. She's scared.

She's scared you'll find someone better and when she sees you with someone else a part of her always feel like she's not enough. You can easily see when she's feeling down, and you just have to remind her with a hug and she'll feel better.

"Sorry! I'm just scared you'll leave me"

Obanai Iguro

███████░░░ 70%

He pretty jealous

Most of the time he'll send Kaburamaru around your neck and people get the hint. But if they don't then...he'll go give them the hint himself. And by that I mean he would roast the shit outta them.

"Back off. Nobody would want to date your dirty goofy no bitches no purpose no friends no standards person."

Tanjiro Kamado

█░░░░░░░░░ 10%

He's never jealous.

If you think Kyojuro is kind then he's another level. He's like a ball of sunshine, he would talk happily not knowing that someone was hitting on you. But he does feels a little insecure when je sees you with someone else. He won't say it but he would cling onto you a little bit more.

"Do you love me?"

Himejima Gyomei

░░░░░░░░░░ 0%

He trusts you 100% and being a man of religion he has no doubt in your love. He does tho wonder if he could satisfy you enough since he's blind. He's just as capable as any men but he gets insecure from time to time due to his past.

"I promise I will try my best to protect you [name]"

Hashibira Inosuke

█████████░ 90%

He is easily jealous.

No matter who he sees with you he'll be growling at them. But he doesn't quite seems to understand love at all so he wouldn't be possessive but he still do get jealous and will NOT be ashamed of yelling at anyone.

"How dare you talk to the great Inosuke Hashibira's partner !"

Kocho Shinobu

█████░░░░░ 50%

She isn't JEALOUS, she's just overprotective.

She's more scared for your health than jealous. She's scared that you get too gullible and will fall for traps and/or get hurts by them. Poor her will try to prevent you from everyone and remind you of stranger danger.

"I do trust you [Name], but I think you're a little too innocent for your own good."

Tsuyuri Kanao

████░░░░░░ 40%

She's not really jealous.

She isn't jealous but she doesn't like seeing people hit on you. There was once you knew she was jealous because she looked at the person talking to you and she was STARING. The person got afraid and quickly apologized and left. She'll deny any accusation.

"I did not do that."

Tokito Muichiro

██████░░░░ 60%

He's easily bothered.

He would see you with someone he judges too close and full on hug your side and fix the person with that one glare. As if to brat about his partner and how lucky he is compared to the guy, he may even bite on your neck while the person's here. As soon as you're gone he would stay and probably roast that person.

"You look like you're a grand grandfather/mother if she/he didn't pass away."

Uzui Tengen

█░░░░░░░░░ 10%

He's chill

He got three wives already so he got used to this feeling. Now he actually feel proud when someone's hitting on you and will full on start talking about how amazing you are and how he's lucky to have you.

"Yes they're flashy ! I totally get why you like them, such a shame they're already taken by me."

Tomioka Giyu

███░░░░░░░ 30%

He can get jealous from time to time.

He doesn't talk a lot, and even less express his emotions. So it's a pain trying to figure out what's going on inside his head. However when he's jealous, he doesn't really tell you he just act like nothing's happening because he judges it negative to tell you about it. If you manage to find out then, congratulations you made a new step in your relationship!

"Oh.... I didn't know, sorry [Name]"

Kamado Nezuko

██░░░░░░░░ 20%

She's protective

Whenever she sees someone making you uncomfortable she'll come by your side to hug you and glare at the person when you're not looking. If the person doesn't get the hint she'll probably start growling at them. But overall, she's adorable and let anyone talk to you.

"Mmhp mhp mmph!" (I love you !)

Talk to me!

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 14

masterpost

“You always make the best waffles Hood,” Steph said as she stuffed another syrupy piece into her mouth. She carefully kept her attention on Jay and Cass and not on Danny, who still seemed to be mostly hiding under his mop of black hair at the other side of the table.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jay said. “I know what diner you go to every chance that you get to have waffles. You love those more than mine.”

“No,” Steph whined, looking longingly at the waffle Jay was taking out of the iron right then. “That’s like asking someone to pick between apples and oranges! Or at least oranges and clementines! Diner waffles are working with a whole different set up then your waffles. Those are my favorite diner waffles but yours are my favorite at home waffles. Different things Hood, different things.”

Jay rolled his eyes and handled over the waffle.

Steph took it triumphantly and shot Danny a wink as he covered up his laughter.

“That’s your last one for right now,” Jay said with a pointed jab of his finger. “Danny gets the next one then Cass and then I get to eat some of the damn waffles I’m busy making.”

“Yes, Boss,” Steph chirped and gave a salute with her fork. “How are you liking them, Danny?”

Danny ducked his head back down again, but at least he answered, which was more then Steph had gotten so far. “They’re good. I like them with the fruit.”

“Yeah, that’s the big bad red wolf here trying to get us to be a little more healthy,” Steph said.

“Doesn’t work,” Cass said with that pleased little smile of hers. Steph always loved that smile.

“It sometimes works,” Steph corrected, even if Cass gave a little snort at that.

“They’re good. I missed fresh fruit,” Danny said as he carefully speared another blueberry on top of a precisely cut piece of waffle.

Hell, that made her want to go out and buy Danny a fruit basket. Maybe she would next time she came over. She needed to start earning some points with Danny and he deserved good things.

“Well, luckily Hood will keep you well in stock,” Steph said, making sure her voice stayed cheerful.

“Sure will,” Jason said. “And you can help yourself to the fruit that will be on the counter any time. Your stomach should be good enough now that you can eat pretty freely, just make sure to check with yourself if you’re full before getting seconds or something.”

“Look at Mama Red Hen, in his element,” Steph teased and reached out to catch the piece of fruit she knew would be tossed her way at that statement.

“It’s nice,” Danny mumbled down towards his plate. “Nice to have someone… looking out for things.”

Steph just about melted. “Yeah, it is. You can come to any of us for stuff too. Hood is a real mother hen and Nightwing is pure big sibling energy, but like, O is the best if you need finding things and Red is scarily good at puzzling out a problem. B.B. gives good cuddles and Signal is great when things get too crazy! Robin really protective but not nearly as much as the big Bat himself and Agent A always has what you need.”

Danny looked up at her from under his bangs, blue eyes wide.

“Have we given you a phone yet?” she continued, not knowing what to do with a young Bruce being able to give such good puppy dog eyes. “We need to get you a phone with all our numbers. I’ll have Red get on it, or O. Is O better?”

“Depends on the phone,” Cass pointed out.

Steph nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll ask the group chat I guess what we need for Danny.”

“I don’t, you… Red already gave me a tablet to use.”

“Have to look after you,” Cass explained in that gentle way of hers.

Danny’s gaze darted from Steph to Cass and over to Jason. When that look landed on Jason, it turned to worry in a way that confused Steph. Weren’t they supposed to be reassuring Danny of his continued place with them so that he would talk to the old man?

Jason set another waffle on Danny’s plate. “Told you it wouldn’t change anything.”

“They know?” Danny asked, his voice a rough whisper.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jason said. “With you bleeding like that I needed to explain things to them, not that I know that much. We haven’t exactly gotten back to that talk and there’s no rush to. The point of all this, kid, is that you’ve got us now. Whatever happens, you’ve got us and we’re going to make sure you can always get a hold of us.”

“But you don’t know,” Danny whispered. His grip on his fork was so tight that his knuckles were white and trembling.

Danny flinched when Cass reached out and touched his hand, but he let her unwind his grip from the fork and look the skin over for damage. When she found none, she wrapped it up in her own.

“Look, Danny,” Steph said. “We’re like the worst trio for this. You need like, Nightwing and Signal and O here for that reassuring ‘we’ve got your back’ sorta talk.”

Jason snorted and Steph flapped a hand at him.

“But the thing is,” she continued, “is that the Bats of Gotham have claimed you as theirs now and that means they protect you and care about you. It’s okay whatever we don’t know cause trust me, we have all fucked up pretty big at times, but we’re still Bats and everyone still has our backs. So, I get that we might have some convos ahead of us that are scary for you, talking sucks, but that’s not going to change shit.”

“But you’re, aren’t you…. I’ve read about you on the tablet. Lots think Bruce Wayne funds you. What if he tells me to get out?”

Jason scoffed loudly. “Yeah, no, he doesn’t control us like that.”

“He is nice,” Cass said, “bad at emotions, but nice. He will like you too.”

Danny rubbed his free hand over his eyes. “How can you know?”

“Because you are you,” Cass said simply. From here it sounded like an iron clad fact.

Danny just sniffled.

“Come on, waffles before they get cold,” Jason ordered.

Steph figured maybe they should talk about things more, but they really weren’t the group to do talking, at least not about anything important. She’d let Dick know Danny needed the reassurance though for when he came to the apartment. Even as good as Dick was at playing big brother, Steph didn’t really think that Danny would feel alright until he met Bruce. Somehow, they’d have to convince him that it was time.

---

AN: And we are back by vote with the first part of the next chapter! Sorry for the long delay, but life really was kicking me while I was down. And now I have a cold(?) so you know, expect typos. But Steph finally makes a showing! That means the horde of bat siblings have all met Danny. I wonder what's coming up next...?

Stay delightful, darlings!

[rafesfavgirl]

boy, you got her — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. here's part 4 (or whatever part this is to you, depending on how much you've read). i just couldn't help myself :)

❝ it's true, swear, scouts honor you knew what you wanted and,  boy, you got her ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a fallout at the boneyard with jj and kie, you agree to a date with rafe.

words: 1.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, mean!jj (kind of), so so SO fluffy.

"look, i know it's kinda sudden, a'ight?" rafe glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. "and you don't have to answer right now. just think about it."

when you and jj broke up, the last thing you would've guessed to happen next was getting into a friends-with-benefits situation with rafe cameron. now, you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck after he just defended you to your ex-boyfriend and asked you out on a date. 

was it too soon? probably. could you really see it working? maybe. did you want to go? yes—as crazy as that sounded.

you turn your head towards him and shake your head. "i don't have to think about it."

a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, but he fights it, just in case you said no. "you don't?"

"let's do it."

"yeah?" a chuckle falls from his lips, his smile widening.

"yeah," you nod, as he pulls the car to a stop in front of your family's house on the cut. you lean in to place a kiss on his cheek, making them turn the lightest shade of crimson, before opening your door to hop out. "come pick me up at noon tomorrow."

—

"fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!" you slam your closet door close, just as your older brother peeks in to see where all the commotion was coming from.

"the hell's the matter with you?" he eyes you carefully, leaning against the doorway, sipping on a can of soda.

you ignore him and begin pacing around the room, tossing clothes from your dresser onto the bed. "what the fuck am i suppose to wear?" you lay out one casual outfit—a crochet top and dark-washed shorts—and one fancier outfit—a short, white floral sundress with pink flowers.

"since when do you care what you wear?" your brother walks into your room and looks at the clothes laid out on your bed.

"since i'm going on a date," you say, nibbling on your thumb, as your eyes shifted back and forth between the two outfits.

"jj's taking you out?" he asks, looking at you, clearly caught by surprise.

jj was never really the "date" type—not that you minded. while the two of you would spend time together all the time, you'd mostly do it with the rest of the pogues. either that, or you'd hang out in your room or the chateau.

"no," you shake your head. "we broke up."

"so who you goin' out with then?"

you pick up the dress from the bed, and hold it out in front of you, while turning to look into your full-length mirror. "...rafe cameron."

your brother almost chokes on his soda as he snaps his head towards you. "rafe cameron? you're goin' out with a kook?"

"is it really that much of a surprise?" you raise a brow and look at him through the mirror.

"nah," he shakes his head and shrugs. "just didn't think kook was your style."

"well i appreciate your insight, y/b/n, but it's time to go," you turn to shoo him out of the room and push him out your door.

"hey, could you—" before he could even finish his sentence, you slam the door in his face and return to getting dressed.

while you didn't clear up with rafe exactly what this date would entail, you figured it’d be better to play it safe than be sorry—he was a kook, after all—so you took off your robe and slipped into your mini sundress, before sitting at your desk to crimp your hair and scatter little braids around your head and do your makeup.

after doing so, your phone dings with a text from him, as you slip on some flat sandals.

rafe: downstairs, your brother let me in.

giving yourself one more glance at the mirror to fix your necklaces, you run your hands through your hair and spray on some perfume, before scurrying out your bedroom door and down the hall to greet rafe sitting in the living room with your brother sitting across from him.

"so what are you intentions with my little sister?" your brother asks, just in time for you to intervene.

"oh my god, y/b/n," you say, as rafe stands to greet you. "hey."

you walk over to him and he squeezes you to his side. "hey, doll."

"where we headed?" you asked, noticing him in a salmon colored polo shirt—which somewhat matched the color of the flowers on your dress—and light grey shorts. 

"a little change of plans, actually," he tells you. "i gotta go to this brunch at the club cause my dad's getting some award. you don't mind, do you?"

"we can totally leave any time you want," he adds, when a look of apprehension crosses your face.

you slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. "okay."

"yeah?" a small smile forms on his lips when you agree.

"yeah, let's go," you nod again, before turning to pull him towards the door.

"don't bring her back too late!" your brother jokingly calls after the two of you, as you walk out the front door.

"you're not dad!" you yell back, closing the door behind you.

—

the minute you enter a banquet hall at the country club, decked out with several round tables and decorations, full of kooks dressed in designer sundresses and polos, it dawns on you just how different your worlds are.

rafe was the kook king. these fancy brunches were a part of his weekly routine, while the fanciest place you'd ever been was the diner your parents took you to on your trip to new york a month ago.

"you ok?" rafe's hand snakes around the small of your back and he leans into you when he notices you glancing around, your fingers fiddling with each other. "hey," his finger comes under your chin to make you face him. "don't fret, a'ight? they'll love you."

they? who the fuck is they?

"top, kelce," rafe calls out to two of his friends, both of whom are dressed just like him, as he leads you to their table, which also sat two other girls—who you recognized to be rafe's sisters. "this is y/n."

"topper," the blond one holds out a hand to you, and the dark skinned one does too. "kelce."

"y/n," you shake both their hands, as rafe pulls out a chair for you to sit down. "it's nice to meet y'all."

"oh my god," the young girl seated next to sarah widens her eyes at you from across the table. "you're that girl rafe's been sneaking in and out of the house at night!"

"wheeze," sarah throws her a look, before smiling at you. "sorry about her, she has no filter. i'm sarah."

"yeah, i know," you nod at her. "kiara's talked about you."

"oh," the smile on her face drops a little. "you're friends with kie?"

"not anymore," you shake your head, and sarah's smile returns. "we were, but… she's showed her true colors." you reach for the glass of water in front of you and take a sip.

"tell me about it," sarah scoffs. "i had to learn that the hard way."

you continue making small talk with sarah, realizing she wasn't half the bitch kiara made her out to be, while rafe's hand rested on your thigh, as he talked to kelce and topper.

"drinks?" you hear a familiar drawl behind you, and find jj standing over you with a platter of mimosas, dressed like a waiter. "y/n?"

a smirk comes across rafe's lips as he turns his head, eyes shifting between the two of you. "hey, man. just one for my girl."

jj's clicks his tongue, as rafe smiles at you and gives your thigh a squeeze, but does his job, and leans down to hold the platter out to you.

"thanks," you avoid eye contact with him as you grab a drink from the platter, and are thankful when sarah calls on him from across the table.

"i'll take one too," she says and jj rounds the table to allow her to grab a drink, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.

a part of you felt bad—it had only been about a month—but then again, he moved on while you two were still together. so was there really a reason for you to feel guilty? you were just doing what he did—but better. at least you waited until the relationship ended.

"i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you whisper to rafe, who gave you a small nod.

"why?" he asked, concern falling over his features. "you okay?"

"yeah," you assure him. "i just gotta pee. i'll be back."

—

by the time you got back from the bathroom, applause was erupting around the room, as rafe, sarah, and wheezie joined their dad on stage with their stepmom.

a smile came across your face as his eyes met yours from across the room and you leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar beside you.

"can't believe you stooped this low," jj comes up beside you, placing the platter down on the bar and downing one of the drinks himself.

"no," you turn your head to look at him and shake your head when rafe becomes occupied taking pictures with his family. "we're not doing this here."

you head out of the room, and he follows. "why? scared your new kook friends are gonna realize you're not one of them? i mean, seriously, y/n— how far are you willing to take this? just to-"

you snap your head towards him. "just to what, jj?"

"to spite me," he says. "i mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" he motions a hand at your dress. "you're dressed like them, you're eating brunch with them, you're with him—this isn't you!"

"no," you hold a finger up to him. "i am exactly who i've always been. you just don't know how i look when i'm not in love with you."

a scoff leaves his mouth. "so our relationship really meant that little to you, huh?"

was he for real?

you narrow your eyes and shook your head. "no. you don't get to use that against me. you meant the world to me, jj. you were the one who screwed shit up the second you decided to sleep with kie. you are not turning this on me."

"oh my god, would you get over it?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "you slept with rafe cameron, y/n! we're even."

"even?" you spat. "after you betrayed me? broke my trust? my heart? oh, you have no idea just how even it's about to be."

"the hell's going on out here?" rafe joins you and jj outside the banquet hall, immediately coming to your side, a hand on your lower back. "is he bothering you?"

"no," you shake your head. "jj's shift just ended. he was about to go."

rafe shifts his eyes between the two of you, you and jj's eyes focused on each other.

your ex-boyfriend scoffs and shakes his head, but walks away, taking rafe by surprise.

"you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he looks at you, after watching jj leave. 

"nothing to tell," you shrug with a smile, tilting your head up at him. "you wanna head back inside?"

"you wanna stay?"

"yeah," you nod, snaking your arm around his back. "i do."

part 5.

i love soft rafe almost as much as i love canon rafe tbh.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[alicenpai]

edgeworth family & summer 🍉

i needed to go through an old file in my 2021 folder, and i stumbled upon this drawing. 2021 was an incredibly arduous year & resulted in a lot of art block, so i have a lot of unfinished drawings from then. the fact that i finished/drew anything at all is a feat honestly (and you guys should be proud too if you drew anything at all during the early months of the pandemic...!)

i quite like the look of jeluto's csp brush here to achieve a blocky effect...

i dont know what is UP with the bleed border here, did i plan to print this in a book? especially with how close greg's face is to the gutter??? *avgn voice* what was i thinking

the one time i ACTUALLY tried a bg and it backfired on me bc i never finished. im sorry to my 1st year layout teacher who gave me a 1 on 1 personal pep talk *dexter voice* i have failed you 😭😭 i think this drawing had a lot of potential, i just wouldn't go back to it bc it's 3 years old now. backgrounds are tough because i never really know how to approach them. do i line it? do i keep it a sketch and just paint over/under the sketch layer? do i lineless it?

i guess it depends. much to think about... i definitely want to challenge myself whenever i can, but not overwhelm myself with the need to "improve". gotta remember that art should be fun ♥.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 11: The Innocent Can Never Last]

A/N: Below are your guesses…let’s see how you did!!! 🥰😘 Only 2 chapters left 🥳

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.3k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“You could have gone to California with them,” Rio says as he flips open the fuel cap of a black Nissan Frontier, parked in the driveway of a two-story brick house on National Avenue, not far from where Route 95 branches north of Winnemucca like an artery from a heart.

You squint up at the cumulus clouds to avoid meeting his eyes. You keep thinking you’re going to cry and have to suffocate it, drown it, slit its throat. “I didn’t want to.”

“Sure you didn’t.” Sweat runs in rivulets down his face as he slides in the semitransparent siphoning hose, the one with the little pump on it that Jace had when you found him in Iowa. Aemond gave this to Cregan; he kept the hose without the pump for himself. A small, curious sacrifice. You are fanning Rio with a magazine, Bow International. You had grabbed it thinking of Daeron, then remembered he wasn’t here to give it to. “Jesus Christ, it’s so fucking hot…”

“Djibouti was hotter.”

“Djibouti had a beach. And an air conditioning unit in every window.”

Cregan is waiting by the Tahoe and leafing through a guidebook he found at the Maverik gas station. Ice is lying on the ground and panting beside him, her shaggy grey coat filthy with dust and sand. “The town was named for Chief Winnemucca, who was born in the 1820s in what would later become the Oregon Territory. It either means ‘the giver of spiritual gifts’ or ‘one moccasin,’ depending on the interpretation.”

Rio says: “Damn Cregan, you can read?”

Cregan frowns down at the guidebook with feigned regret. “I really wish Trump had built that wall.”

Rio guffaws. “Cregan, man, I told you. I was born here!”

He continues: “Winnemucca was a stop on the transcontinental railroad.”

“Great. Let’s get that up and running again.” Rio groans as he squeezes the pump on the siphoning hose with increasing frustration. “Absolutely nothing. Not a drop.”

“We probably have enough to get to Denio Junction,” you say gingerly, knowing he’s suffering. It has to be over 100 degrees.

“Yeah, and what if there’s no gas there? How the hell are we going to get to Adel, Oregon?”

“We could walk if we have to.”

“85 miles? In heat like this?”

“In basic training we had to run—”

“We had water in basic training, Chips!” he snaps; and Rio never snaps. “And real food, and corpsmen for if we passed out, and also there were no fucking zombies running around eating people, remember that part?!”

You stare down at the dirt. You can’t cry; you can’t waste the liquid.

“Wait, no, no, no, I’m sorry.” Rio lifts your chin so you aren’t able to hide from him. “I’m…you know…I should already be there. I could be in Odessa in six hours, I could be with Sophie and the baby before sundown, and instead we’re stuck here in the desert and I’m thinking…what if what should take hours ends up taking weeks? What if when I get there, I’m too late?”

You nod, you understand. Out on the road, Cregan keeps his face buried in his guidebook, trying to be polite and pretend he can’t hear you.

“And, I’m also thinking…” Rio says, soft and low. “That I don’t want to be the reason why you miss out on a chance at happiness when the world could literally be ending.”

You gaze up at him, dejected, pathetic. “I can’t handle any virgin jokes right now.”

“I know. I wasn’t going to make one.”

“I didn’t want to go with them to California,” you lie. And then a truth: “And I would never leave you. I promised.”

Rio smiles. “You promised not to let me die alone, and I don’t plan on dying. You’ve gotten me most of the way already.” He glances towards the Tahoe. “I think Axe Boy would have rather stayed with them too. When he was asleep last night I heard him mumbling something about Helaena.”

Cregan? Helaena? Interesting. “Aemond doesn’t want me.”

“Oh, come on. You know he and his one eye are sobbing into a can of SpaghettiOs right now.”

“Be nice,” you murmur morosely.

“Why? He can’t hear me,” Rio says. “Look, Aemond’s fucked up. And of course he is. He went from learning how to save lives and deliver babies to watching his friends die horrible, preventable, completely meaningless deaths. That’s gotta suck. It sucked for me, and I barely even knew them, and no one expected me to be able to do anything about it. Aemond’s the one people trusted to protect them, and he couldn’t. So why would he be able to protect you?”

I never wanted Aemond to protect me. I just wanted him to take me away from here, even for a minute, even for seconds, one hushed stolen moment at a time. “I wish I had said something different back in Battle Mountain.” I wish I had told him I love him. But I didn’t, and now it’s too late.

“You deserve to have the whole wholesome normal family thing, the husband and the kids and the warm fuzzy holiday traditions. I know you’ve always wanted that.”

“If I choose the wrong person, I’m going to end up alone and miserable. And I’ll turn into a monster like my mother.”

“Hey,” Rio says, like he’s ready to fight you. And then he uses your real name, something he’s done maybe five times since you met him, just like you almost never call him Bryan. “You will never be like your mother. Okay? It’s not possible. You don’t have it in you. You’re not a parasite, you’re not mean.”

You want to believe him. “Okay.”

Then Rio chuckles. “Actually, you’re going to end up like my mom. Living in the middle of the woods, making your own soap out of goat milk, growing weed and knitting sweaters.”

You smile wistfully. “I have no idea how to knit. I want to build things.” Then you remember something from when you were fishing on Lake McConaughy in Nebraska. “Aegon said I look like someone who knits. Whatever that means.”

“It means you’re from Kentucky.” Then Rio asks, tentative: “So…what do you think about Aegon?”

This seems random. “He’s cool. I like him, obviously. He’s, um…I don’t know how to describe it. He’s so sad but so warm. It’s impossible to feel nervous around him, which is nice.”

Rio nods, giving you a teasing smirk. “Alright then.”

“Why?”

“Well I was just thinking that if he grows up a little more, he might be good for you.”

“Rio, he’s thirty.”

He bursts out laughing. “So give it another decade and he’ll finally be baby daddy material.”

“I’m sure he’ll be preoccupied with his drug dealing and brothel empire by then.”

“You aren’t even the tiniest bit intrigued?”

“I’ve never really thought about him that way.” And there’s another dimension to it that wouldn’t occur to Rio: Aegon is an addict. You know what it’s like to have to depend on somebody like that. You would never allow yourself to fall in love with him, not the way he is now.

Rio sighs and pivots. “You want me to give you a baby?”

Now you’re giggling. Of course, he’s not serious, just like he wasn’t serious when you were trapped on that transmission tower together back in Pennsylvania. “Stop.”

“I’m super tall and charming, and I was a great electrician back when electricity existed, and I have luscious curly hair that you can readily observe since the U.S. Navy isn’t around to make me shave it off anymore.”

“Sorry, I don’t reproduce with Enrique Iglesias fans.”

“You are so racist, and yet I’d still be willing to help you out with a sperm donation. I’d blindfold myself and struggle through it somehow.” He’s grinning, but his dark eyes are kind. “As long as I’m alive, you will always have a family. And Sophie gets that. Her parents were fuckups too. That’s why she’s so close with mine even though they’re insane.”

“They’re exactly the right kind of insane for the way the world is now.”

“Remember when my dad went through his ‘wifi gives you cancer’ phase and would only communicate with me via Republican-president-themed postcards?”

“The Ronald Reagan one was neat. So many eagles.”

“Truly an excessive amount of eagles.” Rio goes for the porch. “I guess we’ll scrounge whatever we can inside and check the rest of the cars on the street before we head north.”

“I ain’t seen any others without the fuel cap already open,” Cregan says from the Tahoe, dispirited but trying not to show it.

“If we end up having to walk, we’re going to need water or Hawaiian Punch or something. A lot of it. Maybe we can find some of that Pedialyte stuff Aemond got for Jace when he was sick.” Rio pounds one closed fist against the front door. “Hey! Anybody home? We’re looking for supplies. Not trying to cause any problems. If somebody’s in there, just give a shout and we’d be happy to keep moving.”

You’ve followed Rio up onto the porch. “If there’s no water inside, canned fruit will work. You can drink the syrup for hydration, and all the sugar gives you calories.”

Back by the Tahoe, Cregan is leaning down to pet Ice. She’s still panting hard, foamy saliva dripping from her muzzle. “Y’all, we gotta get moving,” Cregan says. “Princess needs to be back in the truck with the AC, and I don’t want to waste gas by letting it idle.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re working on it.” Rio kicks the door once, hard enough that you hear the wood split near the hinges, dry and cracking. He backs up to prepare to give the door another blow, which is all it will take. Then there is a muffled voice from inside the house.

“Get the hell off my property!”

Immediately, you are stunned by the boom of an explosion, shards of wood flying like shrapnel, the steel barrel of a shotgun jutting from the fresh hole in the center of the door. Rio is scrambling off the porch and dragging you with him. With your free hand, you grab your M9 from its holster and begin shooting before the man inside can fire again, before he can kill Rio or Cregan or you. Your bullets pierce through the blackness of the gaping wound in the front door. You hear shrieks of agony; you see flecks of blood painting the wood. Now there are people shooting from the second-story windows, and you feel the wind of bullets clip by as Rio pulls you towards the Tahoe. The engine starts; Cregan is already in the driver’s seat. You return fire until your M9 makes only small, hollow clicks when you pull the trigger. And by then Rio is shoving you into the truck.

“Go, go, go!” Rio yells at Cregan the second he crawls in behind you and slams the door shut. Cregan swerves away from the curb and barrels down the street, tires squealing, gunshots still ringing out from the house. Ice is barking franticly.

“Rio, I’m out,” you say, terrified.

“What?”

“Bullets. I’m out of bullets.”

“We gotta go,” Rio concedes. There are scratches on his cheeks from splinters of wood, sweat turning from clear to blood-tinged pink as it drips down onto his shirt. “We gotta get out of Winnemucca. If we have to walk, we’ll walk. At least there’s no one north of here to worry about for a hundred miles. Not living and not dead either.”

From the backseat, you glance over at Cregan. “Oh my God, Cregan, you’re hurt.”

“I know.” His right forearm is covered in blood. It’s a graze wound, but deep; when he turns the steering wheel, you can glimpse the white of bone as his shredded muscles open like a mouth.

“You need stitches!”

“Oh yeah?” Cregan replies as the Tahoe bumps over corpses in the street, bodies mummified by the wind and the sun. “And which of you two would be better at that, you think?”

“We’ll get supplies to patch you up,” Rio says, peering out the window, searching for someplace to stop. “And enough food and water to last us through the desert. Right there, hop on Route 95, and we’ll find a store at the edge of town before we’re in No Man’s Land.” Cregan jerks the wheel; the Tahoe veers onto Route 95 heading north. Boarded-up houses and graffitied overpasses and gnarled bristlecone pine trees and lifeless traffic lights and looted storefronts pass by in a blur.

You turn to Rio. “What if those people try to follow us?”

“It’ll only take five minutes.”

“Rio…”

“We don’t have enough to drink. If we get stranded in the desert, we’ll die. I’m not dying out there. I didn’t cross 3,000 miles to drop dead just a few hundred away from Sophie.”

He’s right. There’s no other option. North of Winnemucca is a wasteland, a boneyard. “Okay,” you surrender, helping him look for stores. “But we have to be quick.”

“I can be real quick, baby. You’d know that if you took me up on my very selfless sperm donation offer.”

Cregan raises his eyebrows; you can see his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Y’all have a mighty strange relationship.”

Rio is pointing. “Right there, Riverside Grocery & Liquor. Let’s give that a try. Cregan? You see it? By the Taco Bell.”

“Of course you’d be attracted to Taco Bells,” Cregan says as the Tahoe zigzags across the parking lot, but his voice is woozy. Blood pours from the gash in his arm. What if the bullet severed a major artery? What if he’s bleeding to death?

You ask: “Cregan, do you feel okay?”

“I’m alright. Don’t you worry about me, Miss Chips. You got enough worries already.”

“You don’t look alright.”

His eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror; they are fearful. “I think I need to get pressure on it.”

“We’ll take care of you, buddy,” Rio says. And as soon as Cregan shifts the Tahoe into park, Rio is out the door and striding into the small grocery store, his Remington 12 gauge in his hands. It’s unloaded, but still good for blunt force trauma. The glass of one of the front doors has been shattered. Rio steps inside, his boots crunching on broken glass. You are right behind him; Cregan lifts Ice with his uninjured arm so she can get inside without cutting her paws.

Harsh desert sunlight streams in bright enough that you can see reasonably well, dusk or dawn instead of midday. The air tastes like dirt and decay. The shelves of alcohol have been picked clean, but cans and bottles and cardboard boxes have been left strewn haphazardly around the rest of the store. There are several circular racks of souvenir t-shirts: horses, mountains, pine trees, I was a buckaroo on the Cowboy Corridor, #DesertLife, Straight Outta Winnemucca. You yank a white shirt with a rattlesnake on it off its hanger and tie it tightly around Cregan’s bleeding forearm, closing the ragged ends of his wound.

Ice is whining and nudging at Cregan. “There’s one in here,” he warns.

“Yeah, I got it,” Rio says. She staggers out of the stockroom hissing and growling, the flesh on her face almost completely gone, her exposed skull stained with clotted blood, her teeth chattering. Long strands of blonde hair hang in patches from the back of her head. She is wearing a red vest with a nametag on it. Once upon a time, her parents called her Jasmine. Rio strikes the zombie with his Remington so hard it is decapitated, and the corpse crumples to the filthy tile floor as its head rolls over towards the cash register. Then he slings the shotgun over one of his shoulders and begins shopping.

Cregan is tall enough to see the tops of shelves where items have been missed; he pulls down bottles of Snapple, Gatorade, Yoohoo, Jarritos soda and stuffs them into his backpack. You are on your hands and knees sorting through the debris on the floor, everything coated with a layer of dust and sand. You find cans of mandarin oranges, boxes of graham crackers, tuna pouches, and packets of Tylenol. Cregan will need them. He needs more than that, but you can’t give it to him. You’ve never been to medical school. You grab more souvenir shirts to use as bandages later.

Maybe there are doctors in Odessa.

Rio says excitedly from the other side of the store: “Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!”

Maybe there’s a life worth living in Odessa.

“Just hurry up so we can go.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He’s filling his arms with boxes and bottles, making a lot of noise. Ice is pacing and whimpering, panting like she can hardly breathe, drooling gluey strings of saliva. The grocery store is an oven. Cregan pops open a can of Arizona iced tea and pours it into her mouth to be gulped greedily down. Still, Ice’s yellow wolfish eyes dart around the room, vigilant, rattled.

“I think there’s another zombie,” you say, watching her. You reach for your M9 before remembering it’s unloaded.

Cregan replies: “Sure she ain’t just overheated?”

Somewhere close, less than a mile away: gunshots out on the streets of Winnemucca.

“Ready, kids?” Rio says, his arms overflowing, half a Slim Jim hanging out of his mouth like a cigarette.

“Yes sir,” Cregan agrees. The t-shirt you knotted around his forearm is splotched with crimson, but the bleeding appears to have slowed. Fragments of glass shatter as he crosses through the doorway and out into the parking lot, carrying Ice as she struggles and barks.

Rio pauses as he passes one of the other t-shirt racks, circles of metal that gleam like halos. He’s rearranging his supplies so he has a free hand to grab a shirt he likes. There are more distant gunshots outside, and the squealing of tires. In the parking lot, Cregan is starting the Tahoe.

You say distractedly, noticing an empty Twizzlers wrapper on the floor and thinking of Jace: “Rio, let’s go.”

“Hold up, this one has an elephant on it—”

The hand juts out from below the rack and seizes his ankle, claws up his legs, rips and tears at him, grey flayed flesh and screeches from rotting vocal chords, something that used to be a man or a woman and is now only a monster, half a body, nothing from the waist down but shred of black necrotic muscle, skin, intestines, too close for Rio to push away, already clinging to him like graffiti on concrete, like a pair of stainless steel dog tags hanging from his neck. Without thinking, without hesitating, you are across the store and trying to get it off him, screaming as your fingers rake through disintegrating gore, so deep you can feel the zombie’s ribs like rungs of a ladder, trying to get a grip on it, trying to kill it. Now Cregan is back with his axe and he’s hacking at the skull as best he can without hitting Rio, and Ice is barking, and Cregan is yelling for you to get away before you’re bitten, but you don’t listen, you don’t care; all your life you were homesick until you found homes with Rio thousands of miles from where you were born, and if he’s gone then so is the only place you’ve ever belonged. There is a surge of blood, hot and metallic, rot and iron in the air, and you don’t know whose it is.

He can’t be gone. If he’s gone, who am I?

An arm hooks around your waist and drags you backwards, so roughly you lose your breath for a moment and cannot fight them; over your right shoulder, you see a hand holding a Glock. Aemond pulls the trigger and the zombie falls to the floor, a mangle of decomposition and exposed bones, because wherever the others ended up they found bullets and gasoline…and then they came back for you.

Aegon is stumbling over the rubble that litters the floor to get to Rio. You can hear Daeron and Rhaena’s voices out in the parking lot, and the blasts of Rhaena’s Ruger, the revolver she once didn’t know how to use. Cregan is trying to help Rio up, but he can’t stand. He is slumped against bare shelves and holding a hand to his throat, where he’s hemorrhaging from a gaping, ragged wound, torn arteries and lacerated veins. He’s been bitten, but his transformation won’t take long. He’s bleeding out. His dark eyes are on you, and beneath the glassy sheen of catastrophic blood loss is disbelief and fury and grief. He will never see Sophie again; he will never meet his child.

Your voice is a whisper, a phantom. “Bryan…”

“It only takes once, right?” he says, weak and guttural, already fading, blood on his lips. Then his eyes drift to Aemond. “Get her out of here.”

“No!” you shriek as Aemond pulls you towards the door, his arms locked around your waist, his lips to your ear as he begs you to come with him, that you have to leave, that it’s not safe here, that Rio doesn’t want you to see what has to happen next. Aegon is sobbing as he touches Rio’s face. Cregan bows his head; but he’s already looking at the Marlin .22 that hangs by its leather strap from Aegon’s shoulder. “No, I promised, I promised! I promised I wouldn’t let him die alone!”

“He’s not alone,” Aemond tells you, and he doesn’t let go when you struggle, when you scream. Burning sunlight floods over you, and you are in the parking lot. Rhaena and Daeron are shooting down zombies as they lurch towards the grocery store, drawn by the commotion, the symphony of the dead and dying. Luke is using a siphoning hose to fill the Tahoe’s tank with the remaining fuel in the Ford Expedition. Helaena is moving their supplies into the Tahoe, weeping softly to herself, her long ghost-pale hair flowing in the desert wind.

The racks, you think, you remember. You can see Helaena shining the flashlight into your eyes like you’re back on a living room floor in Iowa. I forgot to remind Rio to check under the racks. And now he’s gone.

You’re screaming that it’s your fault as Aemond forces you into the Tahoe, and you don’t care what anyone says to you: Luke trying to tell you that’s not true, Rhaena swearing that you’re safe now. There is a gunshot from inside the grocery store. Your heart and lungs have turned to iron like the anchor of a ship, cold and still and heavy, unmovable, unbearable. You cannot breathe through your sobs; you cannot see, cannot speak. You curl up on a seat and wish you were dead. All your life you have been compelled by a blind belief that there are better places even if you cannot imagine them, that sometimes when it feels like the world is ending the only way out is through. For the very first time, you want to give up. You want to let all the poisons of this earth seep into your bloodstream until they stop your pulse and everything goes quiet, quiet, quiet.

Aemond is pouring bottles of water over you so he can wash away the blood and sand and gore. He is searching your skin for bitemarks. People are climbing into the Tahoe and a key turns in the ignition. The wheels are spinning; shadows fall over your face through the windows as you sail beneath overpasses. You hear voices but not words. You feel Aemond’s hands on you and do not flinch away.

Someone is putting pills in your mouth and telling you to swallow. “What is it?” you ask.

“Tramadol,” Aegon says. “It will take you somewhere else.”

And it does, this poison he doesn’t know you are starving for; it erases the future and the past until you don’t exist, you never have, and this is a relief.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glimpses through fogged vision, disjointed flashes like dreams: Aemond cleaning and suturing Cregan’s arm, Helaena’s fingers threading through Ice’s shaggy grey fur, smoke from smoldering Marlboro Golds billowing from Aegon’s lips and out through an open window, coyotes watching the Tahoe pass from the shoulder of the highway, mountains and barbed wire, clouds and useless power lines, land that turns from flat and vast and vacant to steep hills thick with pine trees, so many they block out the sun.

You are dimly aware that the Tahoe is stopping frequently, long lulls to hunt for gasoline in small towns, one gallon here, three gallons there, discussions over which routes to take as Aegon scrutinizes his map. Aemond is always with you, coaxing you to take sips of Gatorade and nibbles of Ritz crackers, feeding you spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup straight from the can, and each night when you fall into numb unconsciousness in a dead stranger’s bed he sleeps on the floor in case you need him, and eventually you do. You jolt awake from a nightmare, not death but cursed immortality, a bite he missed somehow that turned you into a monster, into a murderer, your raw skin and muscles sloughing off your bones.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, look at your hands,” Aemond says, taking your wrists and holding them gently. “No bites. You’re going to be okay, I promise. Hey, hey…” He cradles your face, he pleads for you to believe him. “I swear to God, you’re going to be okay.”

“It should have been me,” you whisper in the red glow of the candlelight. “I don’t have a family that would miss me if I was gone.”

“Yes you do,” Aemond says fiercely; and it takes your drugged, horrorstruck mind a moment to realize who he means.

The next day the Tahoe runs out of gas, and you know this because Aemond wakes you with a palm resting lightly on your forehead and an apology sighed through your hair. “What’s wrong?” you murmur.

“We have to get out and walk for a while. Can you do that?”

You force yourself to sit up, blinking at him. “Where are we?”

“Kingvale, California. In the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”

“We’re going to the beach house,” you realize.

“Yeah,” Aemond says, smiling a little. “Yeah, we are. We’re going home.”

On Donner Pass Road, following in the centuries-old footsteps of doomed westward migrants, someone always walks with you as you shuffle along in a daze. Aemond tells you about California, Rhaena reads aloud from Mockingjay, Ice licks your knuckles, Aegon talks endlessly about golf and yachting even when you can’t respond. His burned leg is still bandaged, but healing, and he’s found a Converse sneaker a few sizes too big to wear on his left foot; Aemond treats and wraps his wounds each morning and night, and Rhaena observes and takes notes so she can learn how to do it.

One afternoon just north of Beale Air Force Base, Daeron sneaks a Marlboro Gold out of Aegon’s backpack when no one is watching and lights it as he lingers in the back of the group. Aegon smells the smoke immediately and whirls, runs to him, snatches the cigarette from between Daeron’s lips and stomps it into the pavement.

“You’re not going to be like me!” Aegon shouts at him in the middle of the road. “Goddammit, you’re going to be safe, and you’re going to be happy, and you’re going to know that people care about you because I’ll break your fucking arm if I ever see you smoking again. You don’t get to poison yourself. You’re going to live to be a hundred years old. Got it?”

“Got it,” Daeron echoes, startled, petrified; and then Aegon hugs him, hanging on for a very long time.

~~~~~~~~~~

It is midnight in Meridian, a miniscule town founded in the 1850s on the banks of the Sacramento River, a relic from a time when travel meant ferries and railroads and wagon trains. Here, well outside the state capital, there are no sounds except the breeze through the trees—blue oaks, sycamores, willows, white alders—and the hoots of owls. The house is old, built in the 1950s or 60s, creaking steps and a screened-in front porch where Cregan and Daeron are playing Uno while keeping watch. The moon is new and invisible. The stars are bright.

Aemond appears in the doorway of your room. You are on the edge of the bed and staring at the wallpaper, flickering candlelight and scenes of galloping horses. Aemond is not letting you have any more Tramadol. He’s also not letting anyone load your Beretta, although you saw a box of 9mm bullets in Helaena’s burlap messenger bag. Maybe he’s worried you’ll try to shoot yourself. Maybe he’s not too far off.

He closes the door, crosses the room, and sits down on the bed beside you. In the firelit quiet, Aemond says: “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to help you.”

“I can’t stay here. Take me somewhere else.”

At first, he doesn’t understand what you mean. Then you reach for him—for a life raft, for something to tether you to the earth—and the lines of your palm press against his scar, flesh he stitched back together himself, proof he can heal people, a reminder of how temporary any of you could be. Aemond lays his hand over yours and closes his eye, holding you there against his face, feeling your warmth and your forgiveness, your need to be close to him in a way that is suddenly so uncomplicated. There is no fear left in you. Perhaps there’s nothing left at all.

Aemond kisses you, and there are blooms of golden light through your darkness like what you call lightning bugs and he says are fireflies. You are entangled on the bed together, and all the sounds still ricocheting in your memory—screams, gunshots, bloodlust, hunger, anarchy—fade until they cease to exist. He is touching you, and you can feel lost pieces of yourself returning to you like rain soaking through parched earth, faith and resolve and desire. And now, and now…

Now Aemond is taking you far, far, far away, to bottomless blue water you can drown in, to where Diego Garcia lies marooned in the middle of the Indian Ocean, to the sun-glinting waves off the coasts of Chinhae, Corpus Christi, Key West, the Horn of Africa. He is between your thighs, and you want him through the pain, a razor-sharp fullness that seems so immaterial and so fleeting; and you lie to him over and over again because if he knows he’s hurting you he’ll stop, and in this world one cannot assume there will be second chances. Aemond stills once he’s inside you, giving you time to adjust but also overwhelmed by the intensity of it, his hands in your hair and trembling all over, kissing your face as the pain bleeds away and leaves a shade of craving you’ve never felt before, something deep and indistinct, something intangible like a spell or a myth. You move first, rolling your hips with a slow, cautious rhythm, and only then does Aemond follow you. It’s in his voice, in the reverence of his hands, in his iris like a clear secretless sky; you have taken him far away too.

“I love you,” Aemond says afterwards as his head rests on your belly, your fingers tangled in his damp hair and your skull hushed like calm seas. “And I can’t pretend I don’t anymore.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to.”

And in the morning, there is something different about the world: a hopefulness that makes you want to wake up, a radiance like moonlight on the wave crests of the Indian Ocean.

[themultifanshipper]

Really, even though you were friends, the last thing Logan should be asking the Williams HR representative about, in her office, is sex.

Warnings: oral, petnames, lots of petnames

Based on true events that happened to me last week. Only difference is it was in my appartment, and I didn't actually come.

Do I use too much italics? Probably. Do I care? Not one iota.

So yeah, this was probably breaching several clauses in both your contracts.

But Logan came into your office, looking a bit sheepish, and sat down on the grey sofa in the corner without a word. You just stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just avoided your gaze.

"What can I do for you Logan?"

He didn't answer, just squinting at the floor, contemplative.

He came into your office quite often. Probably more than was strictly appropriate but after all, you used to be on the media team and had become friends with most of the drivers during your years at williams. Usually Logan and Alex (and occasionally others who "happened to be passing by") would come in for a chat, generally cheerful or angry or sad, depending on the kind of day they were having.

Today however, Logan was fully silent.

"Logan?"

He squinted again, this time at you, trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind.

"Lo, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong"

He took a deep breath before responding.

"So you know I'm a virgin, right?"

You, in fact, did not know that. You didn't think you were that close a friend, although you didn't exactly mind. It was just a bit sudden.

"What?!"

"Well technically I had sex once but it went really badly. And I haven't had any practice since, because I'm scared of picking up girls because I don't know what I'm doing and I'm an F1 driver so I'm supposed to be having loads of sex but imagine I'm really bad and it got out, it would be super embarrassing and I'd have to ask you, my friend, for an NDA about bad sex, which is just another level of weird and I'd hate for you to stop tal-"

"Logan!"

He stopped ranting and looked at you, obviously feeling rather vulnerable.

"Logan... have you just come into my office to tell me you're inexperienced at sex?"

He pursed his lips and frowned.

"Yes"

"Okay.... why?"

"Because I want you to teach me how to pleasure a woman"

He looked you straight in the eyes, with way too much confidence for someone who was suddenly eligible for a lawsuit.

You raised your eyebrows at him. "Logan, couldn't have waited until... oh I don't know, until we weren't in our workplace to ask me for sex?"

"Um... I guess?" He had the audacity to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I read this wrong. Do you uhh- not want to?"

You studied him for a second. What the fuck. It wasn't that the idea was unappealing, he was an attractive young driver with probably incredible stamina. Which is why you found the idea of him being inexperienced so odd. And why was he asking you for... guidance? A lesson? It was weird to think of him as anything other than your friend slash coworker Logan, who you had now known for nearly two years.

If someone had told you this morning that this is how your day was going to go, you would have told them to fuck off and gone back to sleep. You realised you must be taking too long to respond when Logan sighed and rubbed his face.

"Okay nevermind, I'm sorry I brought it up, we can just- pretend this conversation never happened"

He sounded almost sad as he got up to leave but stopped as you blurted out "No, wait!"

He stared at you questioningly.

"I'll do it" You sounded breathless "I'll teach you- how to do uhh... sex. With me."

His eyes lit up as he laughed "I hope you'll be more articulate than that "

"Oh fuck off" you hit his shoulder in retaliation "You're the one who looked like you were going to shit a brick when you walked in here!"

"Hey! That's a low blow" He pouted.

The atmosphere became more comfortable with the bickering but there was still an undercurrent of nervousness. He took a couple of steps towards you and leaned in but you stopped him with a hand on his unsurprisingly firm chest.

"You want to do this now?" You hissed "Are you fucking mental?"

He pouted again "why not, the bosses aren't here today, it's just us, and the engineers are working on the cars" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Well when you put it that way....

Fuck's sake.

You leaned in slowly, as if aiming for his mouth before swerving at the last second and pecked him on the cheek before whispering in his ear. "Lock the door for me will you, darling?"

His eyes darkened "Yes ma'am" and he turned away to lock the door.

You sat down on the sofa and spread your legs, beckoning him over and silently motioning for him to kneel between them. He did so and put his hands on your thighs, then looked up at you expectantly.

Oh, right. You were supposed to be teaching him.

"Okay so first you're gonna want to get me naked"

He giggled at your obvious statement before hooking his fingers into your waistband. "Sure thing, princess" Pulling them down and off, underwear soon following as he let out a breath, eyes and hands roaming over your newly exposed skin. "Shit, you're already so wet." He looked up at you again.

"Can I?" He asked.

So polite.

"Be my guest" you smiled at him as he lowered his body. He kissed the inside of your thighs, slowly inching towards where you needed him most. When he got there, you let out a strained half-sigh half-moan as he licked a stripe from your taint to your clit. The noise made him look up as he licked his lips, eye contact making you shiver. He then spread your thighs further and immediately buried his face between them like man starved, making a valiant effort to find your clit with his tongue.

"A bit lower- lower- a bit right. Wait no, your right"

He followed your instructions dilligently and when he found it, he sucked on your clit with fervour, which made you gasp and let out a shaky moan. "There, right there." as your right hand weaved itself into his hair.

Eyes on yours, he blinked up at you and you nodded to tell him he was doing a good job. Satisfied, he carried on, closing his eyes in concentration.

You grabbed one of his hands and started licking at his fingers, it startled him a bit and he looked back up at you, still surprisingly efficient with his mouth. The sight was absolutely sinful, blonde hair a mess, eyes blown wide, tongue out, working over your flesh. When you sucked one of his fingers into your mouth, straight down to the knuckle, he groaned, the vibrations making your hips twitch. You slid a second finger into your mouth, then a third, ensuring they were nice and wet, then pulled them out. "You can start putting them inside now".

He put the first one in, reaching so much deeper than you could manage on your own, all the while still lapping at your clit. You were so wet it didn't take long for a second one to join as he pushed them in and out gently.

"Okay now sort of hook them upwards" you showed him the movement with your own hand and he nodded, hooking his fingers and it felt so good you moaned quite loudly, hoping none of the engineers would be passing by your part of the building. He put a third finger in and the stretch was delicious as he pressed upwards again and flattened his tongue over your clit.

You could slowly feel an orgasm building and he felt you clench around his fingers, going slightly faster with both his hand and mouth.

"Oh god whatever you do, do not stop!" You panted above him as he used his other hand to hook a leg over his shoulder and he sat up a bit, changing your position slightly and making his fingers hit even deeper inside you.

"Fuck!" You clenched around his fingers as you came hard and he slowed down, helping you ride it out for a while before you had to physically push him off because he wanted to seemingly carry on forever.

"Geez Lo, give a girl a minute, yeah?" You laughed, a bit out of breath. You felt boneless as Logan started kissing his way up your body and finally sealed his mouth over yours. His face was sticky, and your hands went to his hair and pulled on it, making him groan into the kiss. You pulled his head back and he whined, his hips bucking against the sofa, searching for some relief. You lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Please" he panted. You glanced down.

"Need some help down there, soldier?"

He grinned, lopsided. "Sargeant, actually"

Oh yes, you were going to have some fun with this one.

[lovifie]

Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.