#do you see my vision. do you understand what im getting at here. i need bellumbeck to be a bit scarier

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

 “You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.  "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 

None of it was a choice you should have to make. 

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah. 

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

 “You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 

Rafe. 

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 

“Put me down!” 

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 

 "Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much. 

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[waywardsalt]

on my knees gripping my head hnngggg i thought abt bellumbeck too hard

tag ramblings are fun and on brand but i have too many disorganized thoughts and tags are limiting.

anyways thinking too hard abt him is an extremely good and fun thing but i cannot draw the way i wish and can't really put my thoughts into fic form so this is very much going to be a fun ramble.

bellumbeck drives me insane we all know this. he showed up in my dream last night as of writing this sentence so he is on my mind, which is surprising bc fictional stuff doesn't usually show up coherently in my dreams but there it was.

it's so incredibly fun to think about bellumbeck. he's such a black sheep of a loz final boss, there really isnt another loz final boss like him in concept or even in 1:1 tone imo. it's so fun to take bellumbeck incredibly darkly seriously.

to be fair bellumbeck is kind of objectively a fairly dark and disturbing final boss on a conceptual level, and it's not really out of nowhere since phantom hourglass has at least a little darkness running through it even if the general tone of the game doesn't really acknowledge or take advantage of it. but if you think about it hard enough even without getting into post-game speculation in regards to what happens with linebeck, bellumbeck is kind of a dark boss and it's great. full on screen demonic possession of a major character with most of the cast incapacitated and link isolated with no escape on the ruins of the ghost ship that started everything and facing a boss that is constantly facing him and both someone he's been with the whole adventure and also the creature that's captured his friends and killed who knows how many people.

it's so oooouuuugghhhh it's so much fun to think about bellumbeck even though it's such a short encounter. it's so... the mystery around bellum, the way linebeck is built up throughout the game and saves link directly before getting possessed, the fucking on-screen vaguely violent possession (i am forever obsessed with the way bellum grabs and tugs on his arms), the way ciela is captured early into the fight, too, the first companion character you meet and, if you had her equipped, it leaves you without a fairy that follows your cursor around for the first time all game, it's very... congrats you and your friends are at rock bottom! good luck getting everyone out of there alive!!!!

of course it's not quite that because this game is geared a bit more towards younger players, but still keeps those streaks of darkness and complexity just simply because they're inevitable parts of this story and it's characters. bellumbeck. i'm talking about bellumbeck. what a soulsborne-ass final boss, huh?

there's only so much a ds game can do in terms of boss animations, but i think a lot about more complicated movements and animations for bellumbeck, so, so much character can be communicated through a boss's animations. in my mind, i enjoy bellumbeck movements with an emphasis on puppet-like flourishes and mannerisms, and an emphasis on weight with how he fights. these two go very well together, and its something i love imagining.

with the latter, an emphasis on weight, would ideally focus on the sword (and im a fan of it being this huge greatsword, reading berserk got me around to liking it because you can do that really well) and how it has to be used one-handed, with bellumbeck leveraging his own weight against it and taking advantage of momentum to use it especially effectively to turn link into a little green and red smear on the wood. attacks blending into each other as he builds up momentum, and using that weight primarily against link, who is a small opponent who relies on rolling around and can’t really stack up at all in terms of brute force.

i imagine this kind of physicality and movement would lend itself very well to bellumbeck also having more puppet-like movements, being a little too tugged-along by his attacks but still retaining his footing, his free arm being just a little too limp a little too often, and his leaning away from his sword side, likely with the intention to properly balance himself out, looks off with how his head lolls unnaturally to that side. the puppetry effect lessens as the fight wears on and bellum gets the hang of the body he’s using, but never actually goes away since he’s not looking to act properly human anyways.

just like... movement flourishes and details that could add a whole lot to the overall experience of bellumbeck that i think about often.

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x

[stunie]

“YOU CRAZY? I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”

WIND BREAKER + YOU NOT RECOGNIZING THEM. ft. hayato suo, kaji ren, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request : a chunk of it -> “..reacting to drunk reader not recognizing them and they wanna take reader home but reader won’t let them and tells them to fuck off or else her boyfriend (which is right infront of her) will kick their ass..”

notes : aa ! ! i am also a sucker for plots like these !! sorry it took me a while to get to >: thank u sm for sending this in nonnie <3 (cw alcohol ; but the consumption isn’t really mentioned in this)

HAYATO SUO.

“don’t you dare touch me,” suo’s eyes widen when you’re clumsily swatting at his hand, half lidded eyes narrowing into your best attempt at a glare. your words are slow and slurred, but he still manages to understand the gist of what you’re trying to say. “my boyfriend’s gonna make you pay if you do,” you huff, pointing an accusatory finger at him and jabbing it a couple times into his chest for extra measure.

“oh?” his gaze softens a bit, unbeknownst to you, and his smile is back the second he understands what’s happening here. “your boyfriend? where is he now?”

the way your glare immediately falls at your realization almost makes him feel bad, and he’s giving you a smile of pity when your lips tug into a deep pout. “um…” you frown, eyebrows furrowing to rid of the tears already starting to blur your vision, “i don’t know…”

“you don’t know?” suo’s voice is steady, easily hiding the way he’s stifling a laugh at the sudden change in your demeanor. he’s watching with amusement as you start to sniff, hands coming to messily wipe at your eyes with your sleeve as you start babbling, spewing out things about how “you need to find your boyfriend right this second” and how you’re “all lonely now.”

“oh dear,” he chuckles, hands coming to lightly grasp around your wrists, “your boyfriend has told you not to wipe your eyes like that before, hasn’t he? you’re going to irritate the skin.”

“mhm,” you give him a shy nod before staring up at him with confusion, gaze flickering to the thumb he’s bringing to gently swipe at the tears collecting along your lashes a moment later. the way you’re stiffening up at his touch is cute— and it looks like you’ve unconsciously recognized his familiarity even in this state.

“y-you know my boyfriend?”

how endearing.

“sure. i know him pretty well,” suo smiles, hand coming to press against your lower back as you guides you forward, “so let’s find him, okay? come with me.”

KAJI REN.

“huh?” you’ve got kaji completely petrified, eyes blown open as his hands defensively shoot up in front of him the second you’re slowly waving your pepper spray back and forth— the pepper spray he had bought you, by the way. “what do you think you’re doing?”

“i’ll tell you exactly what im doing,” you retort, eyes narrowing at the alleged unfamiliar man in front of you, “i’m gonna call my boyfriend here, and he’s gonna beat your ass if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”

ah. the slur in your voice is all it takes for the situation to suddenly click in his head. and now that he’s looking at you closer up, he’s surprised that you’re even able to stand in such a state. you’ve only come here with him, so the only way you’ll be going home is if he takes you home.

and that’s not looking very plausible right now.

he’s clicking his tongue before ripping through another lollipop, raking his fingers through his hair as he goes through the potential routes he can go with this. how the fuck was he gonna bring you home like this..? and actually, how would it make him look if people see him forcefully tossing you onto his back and booking it home?

this was a terrible situation through and through.

“um— come here,” he tries coaxing you the way he would with a stray animal, fingers coming to hesitantly pinch your sleeve to lift your arm without technically touching you, and he’s slowly moving it a couple inches to the right. “i’m your boyfriend. let’s go home.”

you shake your head.

his cheeks are flushing red when he realizes there are onlookers now, a handful of people watching the situation unfold, and you’re not helping his case at all— arms crossed across your chest as you eye him up and down suspiciously.

“c-candy,” he grumbles under his breath, deep red spreading to the tips of his ears. “i’ll give you a piece of candy if you come with me. sound good?”

TOGAME JO.

“m-my boyfriend can fight, you know” you stumble backwards, slowly backing up until your back meets with one of the tables, and it’s just great. you’re completely trapped now. he’s looming over you the next second, big hands resting on either side of you as you try to steady your breathing.

togame will be here any minute, you’re reminding yourself. this is fine.

“that so?” there’s a low chuckle from him, and he’s feigning innocence, looking around to locate this boyfriend of yours. “i don’t see him anywhere.”

your breath catches in your throat. your vision’s still dizzy, world spinning each and every time you move your head, and you search around your hips, internally cursing when you realize your purse is gone too.

no phone, and no boyfriend.

he’s moving awfully close to you now, and you can’t move— can’t call your boyfriend. “y-yeah,” you manage to stammer, thinking hard as you decide what to do. “he even taught me how to fight… so don’t test me.”

now that’s a bluff.

“oh. did he now?” togame’s brow raises at your threat, trying to resist the urge to laugh when you’re quickly nodding the next second, cute hands balling into little fists— and oh, that’s not quite how you’re supposed to do it.

but he’ll teach you another time. “so… in that case… you know what to do when a guy does— this?” his fingers wrap around your wrist before you can get a word out, pulling you forward in one swift movement.

you’re gasping as soon as you fall forward, crashing straight into his chest, and his arms are quick to wrap around you, big hand coming to pat at your head like a dog.

“oh, how weird. i didn’t think he’d teach you to hug other guys.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. cw : he jokingly refers to himself as your kidnapper (he did not kidnap you)

“what now, haji?” your eyes narrow at the phone screen being shoved an inch in front of your face, and ume’s gone puppy mode beside you, excitedly rocking back and forth on your bed as he waits for you to hit play.

“just watch! you’ll see. press play.”

you rub at your eyes, wincing at the way your head starts to throb, still pounding from the events of yesterday. the video that plays out in front of you is completely dark for the first seconds, and you’re quick to grow impatient— seconds away from huffing and pushing his phone away until you finally hear a rustling, followed your own voice.

“haji’s gonna make you pay,” you cringe at the sound of your own voice, and there’s a loud sniffle that follows. “so take me wherever you want, ya goof. he’ll really make you regret it when he finds me.”

no way.

“‘haji’ huh!” you hear umemiya burst into a laughing fit, your face burning at the way he’s poking fun at your past self, and you hear your drunken self scoffing at him a second after. “so what kinda guy is he, huh? your kidnapper’s gotta know!”

there was absolutely no way he recorded himself carrying you home.

“he’s huuge,” the video catches your hiccup, “he can toss you around like nothing. i’m warning you now. so you can put me down if you get it.”

from the muffled sound of your voice, you think ume probably had you tossed over his shoulder, a strong arm wrapped around the back of your thighs to keep you draped over him. “that so?” he chuckles, “what’s he look like?”

“i can’t believe you,” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temples, “you’re unbelievable.” you’re sneaking a quick glance at your boyfriend, but he’s still focused on the video, soft smile tugging at his lips. “keep listening, ‘kay baby? this is my favorite part.”

uh oh.

“he’s the prettiest boy ever!” your cheeks are immediately filling with heat at your shameless confession, hand slamming over your mouth— there was absolutely no way. “you wouldn’t believe it. you’ll know when you see ‘im. he’s gorgeous. beautiful. i looove him! don’t fall in love with my boyfriend— you better not. he’s mine.”

[lady-djarin]

independent contractor

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

fully inspired by this post

warnings/tags: no outbreak au, no sarah mentioned, but we can always pretend she’s at collage or something, infidelity by reader(reader’s hubby is an asshole), contractor!joel, age gap (late 20s/mid 50s) , masterbation (m), smelling of panties(?), sexting, oral (receiving), p in v (unprotected- don’t do that!!) general smut so children leave!! mdni 18+

word count: 6.1k

a/n: i understand not everyone is going to dig the infidelity thing so i get that, if you are not into that please just scroll on, thank you :)

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was a beautiful dress but damn if it wasn’t complicated, the back had all these complicated buttons and clasps to hold it closed. You had managed to get yourself into the thin fabric but just as you needed your husband to close the dress, he had conveniently disappeared. He had been dressed for the party for a while and had been running around the house trying to organize the vendors. It was all for some charity thing he was throwing through his company. He was the CEO of some big company that even after 5 years of marriage you still didn’t understand. Something to do with finance? Maybe.

“Hon? Are you up here?” You huffed as you realized he was not in ear shot. Your husband had a habit of doing this, leaving right when you needed him in favor of something he needed.

You can now admit to yourself that the marriage you were in was a little rushed. Ok, maybe more than rushed. You were engaged within three months of meeting and married in less than a year. The first year of marriage was amazing, he would shower you with gifts and trips and practically worshiped the ground you walk on. It now felt like he only did this to rope you in. He began to take multiple long ‘work trips’ every month and you soon found evidence of an affair (or multiple). Once, there was long hair all over his clothes that was definitely not his or yours along with red lipstick smudged on a white shirt. Was he not even trying to hide it or did he just not care?

You had always told yourself that ‘you’d never be with a cheater’ and you wouldn’t fall prey to men who used women. Well, after a quick marriage, that you begged your parents to go along with, you felt like you had nowhere else to go. Your parents would not be happy and would surely find a way to blame you, and all your friends were also his. So, you kept your head high as your husband did as he pleased. You were now a forgotten trophy on the shelf he felt didn’t need polishing anymore. So you did as you pleased, with his money. One of the things you liked spending his money on was renovations to the house that you were usually alone in.

Currently, you were renovating the other side of the house to become a library/craft area for yourself. The contractor was actually at the house doing a walk through before the party got started. He happened to hear you calling for your husband from down the hall and came to your rescue.

“Sorry to disturb you ma’am, I think he went downstairs,” he was looking down when he first walked in, probably to make sure you were decent. What a gentleman.

“Of course he did, uhg,” you fumbled with the clasps behind your back and failed to make a difference.

“I can go get ‘em for ya?”

“No that’s ok Joel, thank you,” Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction. He had been so great from the beginning, knowing exactly what you wanted for the library, seeing your vision immediately. He was very much the southern Texan gentleman, ‘yes ma’am, no ma’am’, no matter how many times you told him you hated it. “and please, Joel. I’m not a ma’am.” Your smile drew his eyes up.

”My mama would kill me if she heard me call ya’ anythin’ but, ma’am,” he stepped into the room, already coming to help even with your refusal. “I’m more delicate than ya think, im sure i can handle some buttons,” he came up behind you in the mirror and his soft touch on your shoulder blade made you inhale. You held the dress against your chest making sure he had room to fasten the small clasps. You caught his gaze in the mirror that was fixated on the dip in the front of the dress.

He matched your smile.

His surprisingly nimble fingers secure every last fastening and it feels like you can hear your own heart beating out of your chest. It had been a long time since you were looked at the way Joel was looking at you. He was a handsome man, big and rugged but soft in his features. He had these deep brown eyes that you could get lost in and lips that would make a nun blush. He was affecting you in ways your husband hadn’t done in years, he was turning you on. A complete stranger was turning you on and you didn’t really feel guilty.

Did that make you a terrible person?

You know what, fuck it. Your husband cheated and left you alone in life, you were entitled to some flirting every now and then.

“There ya are darlin’,” dear lord, his voice. The deep southern drawl made your panties wet.

“Thank you… Joel.”

”Enjoy the party,” watching him walk away was the hardest thing all night, aside from having to laugh at all your husband’s bad jokes all night. All night your mind was occupied by the sexy contractor.

~

It had been about a week since the party and the library reno was well underway. Joel and his team, including the other half of Miller Construction, his brother Tommy, were working tirelessly. In that last week your husband had been in and out of the house at weird times. On this particular day he left early in the morning without saying so much as a word to you. You used the day to mope around on your phone or read but what kept stealing your attention was the attractive contractor.

His team wasn’t around so the house was truly empty, the quiet was starting to drive you mad. As you wandered up the winding staircase, you found a sweatshirt draped over the railing. That damn husband, he leaves shit everywhere. Without thinking much of it, you threw the hoodie on as you found the library under construction.

The sweatshirt smells like sawdust and something distinctly man. That's different from what your husband normally smells like. The thought of him buying new cologne for some mistress almost made your blood boil, if you truly loved him anymore it would.

The library was really starting to come together, the plans on the table laid out the new shelves and built in table being put in and you dreamed of the days you would spend in there. The rest of your day was spent inside, no husband in sight so you did what you wanted, camped out on the couch with snacks galore and bad tv. Your husband eventually came home, after midnight, to find you passed out on the couch. You were roused by him, he woke you to send you off to bed. He used to carry you.

“Hey, get to bed, it's late… New hoodie?” Your eyebrows narrowed and you looked at him confused.

“What? It’s yours?”

”No it's not, I don't work at ‘Miller Construction’…” his tone felt like sandpaper against your skin. Also, have you been wearing Joel’s sweatshirt this whole time?

~

You wore it almost every day. Refusing to even wash it, it would get rid of the smell. The smell of him. It was like a drug, anytime your husband left you alone in that big house you wrapped yourself in Joel.

The rumble of the engine told you someone was at the house, but the deep southern drawl was what told you it was Joel. You felt giddy, like a girl with her first crush. You were already wearing the sweatshirt because you were expecting him today. He was leading his team of guys up to the library, telling them what to get started on. You made your way up there, under the guise of greeting Joel and asking if they need anything. In reality you wanted to see his reaction to you wearing his clothes.

“Morning Joel, you guys need anything?”

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. He noticed right away, scanning the hoodie and his gaze set your skin on fire. You felt your cheeks heat up as he stepped closer, the air was thick with tension and you immediately felt the mood change. His lips curved up in the corner slightly as he lowered his voice.

He looked handsome as always, the salt and pepper in his beard and hair was somehow very attractive to you. He was older for sure but you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t part of the attraction.

“Nice sweatshirt you got there…,” you could practically feel his heart beating just inches from you. “Miller.”

You had to strangle down a breath hearing his voice drop an octave like that, teasing you. This was real… Joel Miller, your contractor, was flirting with you. And you liked it, a lot. Not only the blatantly wrong flirting but the fact that your husband could come home at any time. It was making your skin flush with arousal and it felt like he could sense it somehow.

“I can wash it and get it back to you,” you wanted to gauge how into this he was. He did not disappoint.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jesus christ.

“Keep it sugar, looks better on ya anyway,” he left you there, finally with enough room to breathe without inhaling his intoxicating cologne. Holy shit, holy shit!

Your mind never strayed far from the older man, you seemed to fixate on the memory of him crowding you in your own home. The rest of the day went smoothly, you went about your business as the Miller Construction crew worked on your new library. You could hear the men working upstairs and every time you heard that one specific rumbling southern drawl your heart stopped for just a beat.

You were screwed.

~

Joel’s day could not have been longer, though he was the only one that noticed. The rest of the crew worked through the day, trying to get their tasks done sooner rather than later to be able to go home on time. Meanwhile, he was thinking about the pretty wife of the man who is paying him. He knew it was wrong but damn if it didn’t feel good. He saw the way your husband acted around you the last few weeks, he was engaged in every conversation except ones with you. Joel could even tell that the man was cheating, he clearly wasn’t trying to hide it. That’s really the only reason he was letting himself indulge with you, that and you seemed to be on the same page as him.

He knew he was in trouble, he had already memorized your features, your lips haunting him most of all. Every time you spoke he was entranced, unable to look away from your mouth. This was so wrong, he was working for you and your husband. He couldn’t help it, you were perfect, everything he could ever want. He dreamed about feeling you under him and that thought kept him half hard in his jeans all day.

By the time he was set to leave he felt like if he didn’t get himself taken care of he was going to explode. All he could think about was you in that damn hoodie, and how he would bend you over with it on. He knew it would smell like you now, it would smell like both of you. As he hopped into his truck he was so distracted that he didn’t see you coming down the driveway towards his car.

“Hey Joel…” Fuck. “I just wanted to get this back to you before I forget.” The gray fabric already smelled like you from where you held it by his car window. Why were you giving it back? He told you to keep it.

”Oh thanks darlin’,” it wasn’t lost on him how your eyes sparkled at this nickname. You were in the most delicious little shorts, showing just enough of the tops of your thighs as you walked back into the house. Fuck, he felt like such a dirty old man. You were so much younger and bright and kind. He felt like he could never deserve you.

He threw the hoodie on the passenger seat as he felt another surge of guilt and arousal settle into this stomach. Just as he was about to pull onto the street, he noticed something much darker than the hoodie sticking out of the pocket. He pulled it to reveal a pair of lacy black panties.

His heart nearly stopped. He would have never expected this, a sweet girl like you leaving her panties in her contractors sweatshirt. His jeans became even tighter than before as he pulled the panties up to his face.

He really was a dirty old man.

They had clearly been worn and it made his head spin, they smelled like heaven and you, he worried he might cum at the smell alone. He needed to get home.

As he raced home with your underwear gripped in his hand, he battled his thoughts. He knew it was wrong to mess around with a married woman but he felt different with you already. You were like the light at the end of his very lonely tunnel, no one ever looked at him the way you did. He practically tore his front door off the hinges as he rushed up to his bedroom. He felt like a teenager with an uncontrollable boner trying to find release.

The black lace was tight in his grip as he shucked his jeans off, the constricting fabric making his blood boil. He pulled himself free and the first touch to his hard length caused a gravely moan to slip from his lips. Tension and heat gathered in his stomach as he stroked himself. His fingers were rough as they circled his weeping tip but he needed to feel relief. He couldn’t even get himself into the shower, he just dropped onto the edge of his bed and never stopped moving his hand.

Those dark panties were teasing him, you were teasing him. You had to be, maybe you were making fun of his obvious crush. No, there was no way you would have grinned like you did if you didn’t feel the same way. It was an offering, a way for you to make a move without being apparent.

Holy shit. You wanted him.

That made his lower muscles spasm suddenly and his orgasm started to barrel down his spine. He pictured you in your small shorts earlier that day and he lost it. A deep groan escaped his throat as he spilled all over his knuckles. He pumped until he was oversensitive, his whole body reacting until he fell back into the bed.

All night his brain juggled wanting nothing but you and telling himself it was wrong. And it was wrong, at least on paper, of course he shouldn’t be messing with a client's wife. Even if she wanted him back.

~

Last time you saw Joel outside his car was almost a week ago. It was driving you crazy. You worried that he took it the wrong way or didn’t even see them. You couldn’t decide if you should be mortified, nervous, turned on or all the above. Then your phone went off.

Usually the texts between you and Joel were regarding what materials or paint you wanted. Now it was something totally different.

5:04PM >Joel: Sorry I have not been to check on the progress of the library personally. There was an emergency at another job.

>Joel: Also, thank you for my gift.

Only someone like Joel would thank you for sneaking him a pair of your panties.

5:09PM <You: im glad you liked them

<You: i was a little worried…

Your heart was thundering in your chest. Your husband was right across the couch, engrossed in his baseball game more than you, per usual. Was it wrong to like this so much, the fact that he had no idea you were texting another man right now, in front of him.

5:12PM >Joel: Why would you be worried? It's the best gift anyone’s ever given me.

>Joel: Any man should be so lucky.

Your pulse kicked up again somehow. He was making it all sound so meaningful. Maybe it was to him. Maybe he never took it the wrong way. Maybe he took it exactly the right way.

5:14PM <You: did you use them?

There was a pause for a few minutes.

5:20PM >Joel: Jesus…

>Joel: I’m at work, darlin.

5:22PM <You: so?

5:25PM >Joel: You got a mouth on you, huh?

5:26PM <You: and i know how to use it

5:28PM >Joel: We might just have to have you prove yourself then.

5:30PM <You: just tell me when

5:31PM >Joel: You are dangerous, angel.

>Joel: I have them in my pocket right now.

>Joel: I couldn’t help myself.

Jesus, this man was going to be the death of you. He was carrying your panties around in his pocket, while he was at work. Your thighs instantly squeezed together and it was at that moment you decided.

Fuck it, he made you feel good and your husband clearly didn’t care about your needs. You needed a divorce, and not just because of Joel. It was about you finally doing what’s good for you.

Suddenly an idea came to you, admititly a very bad idea but again, fuck it.

5:36PM <You: hey, do you have any plans tonight?

5:37PM >Joel: You know darlin, I don’t.

Thank god.

5:38PM <You: what’s your address?

5:38PM >Joel: 7 Oak Village Rd. I get home at 7.

5:38PM <You: see you then

You needed a plan. Your husband wouldn’t really care if you made last minute plans, you just needed a reason. Since he barely takes the time to pay attention to you, he definitely doesn’t know your friends very well.

“Hey, I know this is super random, but my friend Ashley”(totally a fake friend) “just got dumped, Isn’t that awful? She wants me to come over so she’s not alone. Would you care if I spent the night with her?”

It wasn’t really an odd thing, you spent the night with friends before. You should feel bad for lying so easily like this but the thrill of it all was keeping you going. You knew he wouldn’t object but he barely even looked at you. A quick glance back before he focused on the tv again as he waved you off.

”Yea, I don’t care… Johnny’s coming over anyway. Have fun.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, you knew you should be upset but you were too used to it at this point. You went upstairs to pack a bag and get ready. It had been a long time since a booty call and you forgot how giddy it made you feel. Knowing you were going to a man's house who actually wanted you there and actually wanted you.

Once you showered and finished packing, you went down to head out the garage. Apparently while you were upstairs Johnny and many more came over and had taken over the couch as they all debated over some play in the game. You tried to get your husband's attention, calling his name and waving at him. Anger boiled over in your gut. Just another reason not to feel guilty about tonight.

You loaded up into the car and pulled out of the massive driveway without a regret in your heart. This was the beginning of a new chapter and it felt right in so many ways. Your skin was buzzing with arousal, you had been thinking of Joel’s thick hands that would soon be on you, throughout your whole shower.

Before you left the neighborhood you sent Joel a quick text.

7:13PM <You: on my way

7:14PM >Joel: Can’t wait.

You felt the heat creep up into your cheeks and down your neck. Your nerves did start to wear on you though, all the usual stuff; Will he like me? Do I look nice? Did I miss a spot shaving my legs? You decided to wear a thin silk slip dress/nightgown under a baggy zip up hoodie. You figured it was a good way to look ‘sloppy’ enough that your husband wouldn’t care, if he even looked your way. You made the short drive over to Joel’s neighborhood and your nerves seemed to melt away as you got closer. It was odd, normally this kind of thing would send your pulse skyrocketing but the thought of seeing Joel made you calm, almost serene. He definitely made your head swim with giddy arousal though.

You found the beautiful house marked ‘No. 7’ and knocked on the perfectly painted door. Of course his house was gorgeous, he was a contractor. Only moments went by until the door was pulled open by that very sexy looking contractor. His brown curls were slightly messy on his head and he wore some kind of faded shirt and loose sweatpants that hung way too low. You couldn’t look away.

“Hi darlin’,” he rubbed his neck and his cheeks went red. He was nervous.

“Hi,” you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face.

“Come in, here let me.” He gently took your bag from your shoulder and guided you to the couch where he had a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. The inside of his home was just as beautiful as the outside; the couch was large and comfortable, there was quiet music playing in the corner from an old school record player and books and plants littering the shelves. He came back and poured you both a glass and clinked the two together before you each took a long drink. He finally sat down and you turned so your feet were up against his leg, quickly feeling comfortable with him.

“I wasn’t sure if you would be ok… with me coming over.”

“Why?” God his southern accent was like honey.

“I don’t know, maybe it was…I was too forward.” You were sure why you felt the need to bring this up, maybe clear the air somehow. “I’m divorcing him, I can't do it anymore.” Saying it out loud made your heart lurch.

“I get it sweetheart, it ain’t fair that he treats ya’ that way.” You were leaning into each other at this point, unable to stop the magnetic pull between you. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand near your shoulder. He started to entwine his finger in your hair, his big brown eyes danced over your face and it made you almost want to shy away from his gaze.

“You don’t think I'm a terrible person?” You looked into his eyes finally, wanting to know how he felt about you, how he felt about this.

His fingers left your hair as his thumb brushed over your lips. “Y’not a terrible anythin’ darlin’,” then he moved.

He was on you before you could take another breath. He slotted his lips over yours, his tongue sliding between them. He devoured you, stole the breath from your lungs. It was all consuming the way he kissed you, it felt like he was starved and you were all he wanted to consume. He sat back and pulled you with him, your legs wrapping around his hips leaving your core right in his lap. His hand cupped both cheeks as you pressed yourself fully to him, your hips grinding down into his. Your baggy sweatshirt was obstructing your skin from touching his, you needed more and the fabric was too warm.

You leaned back and you finally got a good look at his face as you pulled the zipper down. His lips were swollen and red and his eyes were almost all pupils. After ripping the bulky fabric off he finally moved his hands to the rest of you. He traced your arms down to where your hands laid on your thighs, he then lightly ran his fingers up your back over the thin fabric of your nightgown.

“You are so… fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He sounded like he couldn’t catch his breath and yours caught in your throat. He pulled you into him again but it still wasn’t enough skin. As his soft lips worked over your pulse and his rough beard scratched at your neck you knew you needed more of him. You groaned as you pulled away again and tried to pull his shirt off yourself but he was just large enough to make it difficult. He smirked at you as he leaned forward to remove the shirt and your skin finally made contact with his.

You both groaned as you came together once again, finally able to feel his warm solid chest against yours. He explored your body again as your mouths did the same, he kissed down your neck, over your shoulders and between your breasts. The thin straps holding up the nightgown were quickly pulled down, revealing your chest to him. He lavished you and you felt the vibration of his groans as he licked the crevice between your breasts before closing his mouth around a peak and sucking. Your whole body arched into his, your fingers carding through his hair which made him groan deeper.

“Fuck— Joel,” your skin was on fire and you were lightheaded. You knew somewhere deep down you should feel bad or guilty but it was the furthest thing from your mind. He made you feel like you were floating, your soul somehow detached from your body.

He pulled back from you, just enough to catch his breath and look into your eyes. His hands however never stopped roaming your skin. His pupils were blown wide, almost none of the deep brown in his eyes were left now. He dipped his head and dove back into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck and it made you groan and your core clench.

He groaned into you and you felt it rumble through his chest. You felt like you were losing grip on reality, you couldn’t tell someone your own name if they asked. It was all worth it because you were lost in the pleasure of feeling him under you, but you needed more of him.

You dropped to the floor, the carpet soft under your knees. You tried to pull Joel’s pants down his hips, almost frantically as if you didn’t see all of him now you would die.

“Hol’on darlin’,” he kind of giggled as he slipped the fabric off his hips and he fell back onto the couch and looked down at you with his mouth hanging open in awe. You met his gaze before looking down at his hard length.

Fuck, he was big.

You lowered your mouth to him, teasing your lips over his silky skin. His breath caught in his chest. You ran your tongue up and his hand came up to hold the back of your head, not to force but support. Eventually his fingers grabbed into your hair when you wrapped your lips around him and pulled him in. You felt his rough moan reverberate into your body every time you dropped your head. It was difficult to take him all at once but you had to feel him, everywhere.

“Fuck, oh my—gooood…” he dropped his head back onto the couch but you knew he was watching you, his eyes never left you. You felt your arousal spread between your thighs knowing you were driving him mad. Before you even got a chance to really do much Joel pulled you up on your feet. He stayed seated and looked up at you through his lashes and your heart stopped for a second seeing him below you like this made your stomach dip and your panties wet.

His eyes were blazing a path over your body, nightgown bunched around your waist with your entire chest exposed. You should be cold but you felt like you were on fire. He ran his palms up the backside of your legs until he reached the lacy fabric of your underwear. His eyes never left yours as he slowly pulled the fabric off your hips and over your ass, his hands touching skin the whole way down and helped you step out of it. That swooping feeling settled into your stomach again as he slid his fingers back up the inside of your leg until he reached your hot center, eyes never leaving yours. You both moaned as he dipped into the slick that coated your skin.

“Mhmmm, this all f’me?” He looked at you with a mix of arrogance and pure desire as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion. It was made easy by just how wet you were, you didn’t know if you had ever been this wet before. That’s the effect he had on you, or maybe this is just a primal kind of desire that you never had with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

Either way you were spiraling fast. You knew once you two came together you wouldn’t last long. You needed to feel him, it was driving you mad.

Joel seemed to be taking it slow, which you can admire as this is very new and he probably wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. While you admired him taking the time to make you comfortable you couldn’t wait anymore. As he kissed your chest and his fingers kept moving in agonizing circles across your sensitive bundle while you straddled his lap. His hard length rubbed against your center and both of your bodies shook with desire.

He groaned as he wasn’t expecting you to be on him so fast. His hands ran along every inch, taking you into him and never wanting to let go. You rocked your hips and slowly dragged your core across his length causing you both to stutter and moan. You were sick of waiting for the thing you had been thinking about non stop for weeks.

“Will you… make me feel good?” Your voice was squeaky and horse from all the moans and his eyes fluttered at your request.

“Oh darlin’… that bastard ain’t taking care of you huh? When’s the last time you were properly touched?”

You turned your eyes away from him, slightly embarrassed that he was able to tell that so easily. “Uhm… a while.” He gave you a pointed look, clearly not liking your non-answer. “A… a year,” his eyes widened at your admission. “Over a year…” You cringed at your final answer. You weren’t proud of the fact that it had been so long but you haven't been attracted to your husband in a long time.

”Oh… you poor thing,” he bracketed your cheeks with his large hands. “Don’t worry darlin’.”

Joel was losing composure quickly, he was ready to give you everything you deserved. His nimble fingers reached between your bodies and slid along your center, drawing a wanton moan from your chest. You ground your hips into his hand trying to create the friction he wasn’t giving you. He slowly spread your lips and ran his fingers gingerly over your clit causing your body to shake in his grasp.

“Hmm… y’all wet f’me?” His southern drawl was making his lust-drunk words slur together deliciously. The scruff of his mustache scratched at your neck but his lips and tongue soothed over the sensitive skin.

“Mmhmm… Joel— oh god please,” you sounded just as lost. Your voice cracked and your hips never stopped moving over his hand, desperate for attention.

“Don’t worry darlin’, I gotcha,” he quickly flipped you and your back hit the plush couch. A soft ‘oomf’ escaped your lips and Joel was mesmerized as you lay beneath him. “Oh look at’cha, you’re so pretty baby.”

His words were like hot honey, warm and sweet. You shifted under him and wrapped your fingers around his hard shaft and the groan that reverberated through his chest made your breath catch in your throat. You kept stroking him as his fingers found your wet center again, spreading your release over your puffy folds. As you wrapped your legs around his hips, you guided his crown to your core and felt the sweet stretch of him entering you slowly.

He paused for a few moments and looked like he was trying to center himself again before pushing his hips fully into yours and held himself there. A deep rumbling groan broke through his lips as he began to move, the stretch was making you nervous at first but you felt more and more comfortable as he kept moving. When he started to rub your neglected clit, a bolt of pleasure shot down your spine causing your back to arch and nails to dig into his arms.

“Such a good girl, baby… ngh— you-you feel so good,” his syrupy words made your head feel fuzzy and limbs heavy. His hips started to snap into yours at a harsher pace and his fingers spent up between you in tandem. Your orgasm was quickly approaching with his movements, faster than you expected. Was this the norm for people with healthy relationships and sex lives, real attraction? You couldn’t even finish the thought before Joel sped up his fingers and started to hammer into you. He was surrounding you, hovering over with those dark eyes and large shoulders. The smell of him alone was about to send you over the edge, he smelled like soap and a little like sawdust, all over man. His voice broke you out of your hazy state.

“You’re gonna— cum for me darlin’, I—I can’t hold on…much longer baby.” His voice was rough and demanding and almost like your body listened, you fell over the edge. The lewd moans and shouts of Joel’s name coming out of our mouth surprised you both. At feeling you cum around him, Joel lost all of his remaining control. He stilled inside you and you felt his muscles contract in his release.

“Oh fu—fuck! oh my… god,” he slumped against you and you welcomed his weight. You both settled into the couch as you rubbed your arms up and down his back. “I’m— I’m sorry darlin’, it's been a while. Normally I'd have… taken my time.”

He sounded almost nervous, it made you smile.

“Joel, stop. You have nothing to apologize for.”

”I’ll redeem myself next time.”

Next time? He wants there to be a next time!

You smiled to yourself and hummed at the content feeling of being under him while he still filled you.

You drifted to a place of half consciousness and woke up in, what you were pretty sure was the morning to the smell of bacon. You turned over in a bed, Joel's bed, to find it empty. You looked around the room and found it to be just like Joel, cozy and masculine. You located a shirt of his and threw it on before heading down the stairs to find a very sexy shirtless Joel standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” his voice was thick with sleep and you walked up to him at the stove. With one large arm he pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. A slow smile spread on your lips at the familiarity of it all, the warmness of having someone to take care of you like this, emotionally. Something you almost never had with your husband, soon to be ex.

“Joel… thank you, for this.”

“What’cha mean darlin?”

“Taking care of me. Letting me come over last night.”

“Hey, look at me,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “Anytime you need me, I’m here.”

You tried to blink away the tears gathering on your lashes but one managed to slip, Joel’s thumb catching it before it reached your cheek. Time felt like it stopped as you leaned in to each other, lips pressing together as you moaned at the feeling.

The day was spent lazing in bed and talking about all the things you two would do when your divorce was finalized. The idea of divorce was the scariest thing in the world when you first thought about it, but now, knowing Joel would be with you every step of the way… you couldn’t wait.

[algae-tm]

AGORA HILLS

Daniel Ricciardo x rapper!Reader SMAU

Warnings : SUGGESTIVE content!! Reader and Daniel being horny for eachother on main

face claim : megan thee stallion

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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danielricciardo : Locked in. It’s race week

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user7 : praying for a dr3 podium

— user5 : lmao you’ll need something stronger than prayer

user6 : can’t believe mother is dating this loser

youruser : whore

— user9 : 😅😨

youruser : I’m sorry I wasn’t aware I was running a brothel

youruser : who let you out of your cage long enough for you to post this

— user7 : girl pls ✋🏿 😭

youruser : who you trying to impress???? 😨😅

— danielricciardo : I’m sorry bookie, what can I do to make it up to you?

— youruser : you know what 😼🤭

— danielricciardo : on my way!

— landonorris : there are children on here!!!

— youruser : log off then norizz

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youruser : THANK UUU SO MUCH LONDON! Always a pleasure performing for you, truly one of the best crowds! Now if you’ll excuse me my man is waiting for me in our hotel room with nothing but edible underwear on 🤤

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lewishamilton : an amazing show as always y/n! But was that last part really necessary?

— youruser : yes

user7 : your free speech… hand it over!!!

user21 : how she’s so down bad over a man well past his prime i can’t understand 🤷🏼‍♀️

— youruser : PAST HIS PRIME!???log off NEOWWW

— user32 : I fear she’s dickmatised 😔

user45 : love that they’re still in the honeymoon phase

— user47 : FR!! I need all their secrets! after almost 3 years and they’re still so in love with each other

danielricciardo : AWOOGA

danielricciardo : woof woof bark bark

— oscarpiastri : 😨😨

danielricciardo : I ate the underwear 3 songs ago

— youruser : we can’t drive any faster 😭

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youruser : I see your “Danny Ric is a loser who doesn’t deserve y/n” and raise you “LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT MY MAN, LOOK AT HIS BIG GORGEOUS, RIDEABLE NOSE, AND HIS TATTED THIGHS AND HIM IN A SUIT!!! RATTLING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!! I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM, GOD FORGIVE ME FOR EVERYTHING IM GOING TO DO TO THIS MAN WHEN I GET HOME FROM THIS DINNER, THE SLOPPIEST TOP THATS EVER GUNNA SLOP IS COMING HIS WAY!” oh btw Agora Hills out like rn! view all comments

maxverstappen1 : oh… uhm okay. NURSE SHES OUT AGAIN

— youruser : don’t be jealous cause I’m doing your man on the daily

— maxverstappen1 : 😨

— user65 : lmao y/n stays traumatising these drivers

landonorris : listened to the song! Great! Cool! Cool cool cool. Didn’t need to know all that but really good I guess

user70 : you know I’m starting to see the vision

lewishamilton : y/n… is this why youre on the phone rn?

— youruser : sorry wrong number

— lewishamilton : this is social media

— youruser : no habla ingles!!

user1 : not the random picture of you on the second slide

— user3 : that’s what I’m saying 😭 like is this not an appreciation post for your man?

— youruser : god forbid a woman look hot and post it! need to show you guys he’s taken by a bad bitch!

danielricciardo : forever grateful you chose me to spend life with 💞

— youruser : oh… we not being horny rn?

— danielricciardo : my draws are off rn

— lewishamilton : OH this is why y/n just sprinted out of the room

— youruser : forever grateful you chose to spend life with me too 💙💙

— user47 : she sends him blue hearts??!????? Is it for visa cashapp paypal venmo el matador racing bulls

— user76 : girl 😭 you good???!

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danielricciardo : I wanna tie the knot. I wanna show you off

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youruser : DANIEL RICCIARDO, propose to me for real goddamit!! You coward

— danielricciardo : working on it baby

— youruser : ooooo I need you so bad rn

user56 : sooo only fans when

— danielricciardo : my eyes only sorry

user78 : y’all are nasty

— user67 : in the best way!

user81 : sending you lot my therapy bill

lewishamilton : I love y’all but don’t you ever get tired

— danielricciardo : yeah she tires me out all the time

— youruser : yeah I do baby!!

youruser : my man

— danielricciardo : my woman

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Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

❀ Their first impression over you :

Okay , pile 1, from what I can see feel read and understand is that this person is gonna think of you someone as a hopeful person , even when you are in difficulty you will get instant solution . I guess when you will be meeting them you two or either one of you maybe going thru some problems and one of you will offer help .

They may see you as someone serious also . they feel that light and passion dripping from your eyes and melting their hearts to see as who you are . they will see you as someone brave , passionate , bold , honest , warrior or fighter , someone who stands out among everyone , someone who they can depend on wow pile 1 hands up to you ! this person is gonna study you like their favorited subjects .

They will see you as someone who doesn't give up and really you will be their type they had like to be passionate with . They think that you expect honesty from everyone and really they will do same for you ..they will show who are they like in actual to win your heart and they do see you as someone rational and smart and someone who is good at proving their logic.

It is possible that you may appear cold , defensive and bit egotist but its okay because for them you will matter most . this is gonna be an instant strong attraction for them .

❀ Your first impression of them :-

okay pile 1 are you ready for it ?! lets dive in buds, hmm so it maybe possible that you will actually feel like " finally I found you at last" when you will meet this person for sure . I can see you thinking about them as an achiever ; who got may accomplishment . this person is gonna astound you up for sure haha .

you will see them as someone is who is giving , loving , caring and who got people to support them . I can see you as if you will feel like he\she is my pure air to breathe under in forever . I feel this person is very good by heart and nature . you will think of them as someone calm , rich , luxurious by their nature , appearance and personality . they are an extrovert for sure , but ig u may even thin that this person may give a lot but in end may sometime get in trouble but I also feel that this person won't hold grudges because they don't care about people , they have best emotional and mental control babies and i guess you want someone like them . This will be a dream come true for sure for y'all .

𐙚❀˖° How to manifest with connection fast ?

you need to be expressive of your emotions and about yourself so you can transfer and spread your energy in this crowded world to signal them .

𐙚❀˖° Channeled Messages From Them :-

(1) just hang in there my love im coming so don't be sad I will save you up from the darkness .

(2) meet more people and find me darlo , I m around you haha .

(3) with you my life seems more prosperous and I will be blessed to u have you as my greatest gift .

𐙚 Pile 2 .

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading :-

❀ Their first impression of You :-

so i see that this person will think of you as someone strong minded or we say overall strong in nature . someone who can take a stand alone for themselves in the worst situations , someone really positive during hard times. aah i see self made individuals an mature people .i see leo and sun astrologically by vision . they will see you someone who is really charming even when you are silent .

okay , it must be possible that when you will meet this person you will a some sort of breakup or breakdown out there . this person will want to hug and console you for sure . i don it just hit me maybe when you cry you look more beautiful . or it maybe at least case that they had a breakup when they met you .

They will see you someone very charming , transparent , innocent , clear minded, focused , beautiful for sure .

❀ Your first impression of them :-

Okay , i can see you seeing them haha someone of a dominant personality lmao . this person ur future wife/ husband basically will be of an obsessive of nature . you may see them as someone who may restrict or cross boundaries of someone else . they person will be strong minded for sure . they will be strategic . could be boss or into military or police service . they will be muscular .

since i you will see them who is clear headed to do achieve the aim . they aren't that dominant to but can be little bit more caring . its possible that this person is gonnaaa be lazyy uff ... and could be that isn't that adventurous or stuck somewhere in their life ..will be having some transition and will be kinda scared or confused to how to go through this transformation . maybe you can help them somewhere.

𐙚❀˖° How to manifest this connection fast ?

SO , u may meet them at some sort of celebration or something maybe a party . you need to maintain your ownself like be careful of what you do and think plus be yourself ! enjoy your life .

𐙚❀˖° Channeled Messages from Them :-

(1) You know i need some time ; i'm stuck try now .

(2) I will come to you when you will show you real self .

(3) I want to have a happy family with you . i wanna take care of you as a queen/king of my life and will be loyal to .

(4) I want some rest i'm tired mentally .

𐙚 Pile 3 .

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :-

❀ Their first impression over you :-

Okay , I sense that this person will think of you as someone who is doing alot of self love or we say someone who is interested in themselves.

They won't be shocked to see you at first instead I see them as being like I wanna be with her/him even If I have to let go of things .

I see that u maybe would have left toxic people behind in your life to know and establish your own self worth and this person will sense same .

They Will daydream about u and their scenarios in Mind haha ♡ cute ! They will see you as someone beautiful and maybe one part of ur body is chubby like 🧸 ♡ .

❀ Your first impression of them :-

Okay , it feels like that you may not notice them as you must be having some fights and mental conflicts and even when you will see this person you may see them as someone smart, observant and intelligent. Your Mind will be playing games with you tbh . You will feel shy infront of this person.

For some people OR few I see that u may see them as someone who is experienced and matured after prolong emotional breakage .like bad relationship experience and failures ect or vice - versa .

It might be possible that you will get people saying that no bro don't focus on that person,that person is mine kinda jealousy vibes tbh .

I see for most of the people that u will be meeting them during high-school time.

𐙚❀˖° How to manifest this connection fast ?

You are being told to cooperate with others . To ask help from others like your friends or colleague to recommend some choices and all . For least to go on a trip of some sort .

𐙚❀˖° Channeled Messages from them :-

(1) show ur strength but be In a flow .

(2) I'm so attracted to you that I wanna take you from everyone ,just to trap u and protect u in my heart .

(3) you are my most unexpected gift from divine and universe .

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[morphids]

well, two can play that game (pt.2), abby anderson

part one here!

pairing: basketball player!abby anderson x afab! reader (college au)

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!!!! poc friendly!! r has curly hair, past hurt/comfort, past relationships, petnames used in place of actual name, bff!dina x r, very abby focused chapter, abby is incredibly sweet n patient until she fucks u… ellie and abby are sort of archenemies, a lil ellie slander, abby talks u thru it, r gets strapped down in a car 🫣, pussydrunk ramblings, praise, abby calls the strap her cock sorry 😮‍💨

summary: part 2: after ellie left you at the party, you find comfort in the arms of another. perhaps it’s better this way?

wc: 5k (not proofread im sorry y’all my eyes hurt)

2 posts in less than a month?? who am i?? anyway the abby brainrot is rife recently im sorry if its ass.

AS ALWAYS FUCK DRUCKMANN AND ALL ZIONISTS, resources for Palestine and the daily click linked on my pinned post!

—

You were left in the empty bathroom, alone and very pissed off. She ignores you for months, then does this? No, you were more than pissed. You fixed your makeup, more like wiped it all off, and readjusted your clothes, trying to somewhat freshen yourself up before facing the world outside. Your legs still slightly shaking as you thought back to your previous interaction with Ellie. How dare she? She's the one who left. You shuddered, a horrible feeling ripping itself up in your chest, you felt used.

You shook your head, taking one final glance at the mirror before exiting the bathroom. You really only had one mission, get the fuck out of here and go home. Not bothering to say goodbye to your friends, you'd send a text explanation to Dina, surely she'd understand. You just couldn't be here right now, after that. Your legs carried you down the stairs, tunnel vision towards the front door at the end. You frowned, feeling bad that you'd be leaving Dina's on her birthday so you glanced back trying to find her within the crowd. Upon looking, you spotted her and Jesse... and Ellie. She didn't leave? You panicked, instantly looking away, not wanting -Ellie- anyone to see you as you opened the door and strode a few steps in front the road.

Grabbing a single cigarette from your pack and lighting it, you reached for your phone and quickly typed out a message to Dina. As your shaking hands were drafting a whole essay about what had happened, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, so gentle it almost indicated that they were trying not to alarm you. Despite their efforts, you were a jumpy person so you swiftly reacted and turned to look at who was trying to get your attention.

"Hey, you alright?" The person revealed themselves as the one you had been enjoying speaking to before the night had been ruined.

"Oh, Abby," You were slightly shocked, admittedly. The little stunt that Ellie pulled must've given you some form of brain damage because Abby had ultimately left your thoughts, "Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled at her, at least what you thought was a smile, it must've looked more like an odd grimace because Abby then spoke,

"You sure, you look a bit... shaken." Her words were hesitant, eyes studying you, you must've looked as bad as you felt.

"Sorry, yeah, just..." you paused, "Need to get out of here." You took another drag, your cigarette almost at its end.

"Do you have a ride home?" She asked, those maldito crystal blue eyes furrowed with worry, she was not about to leave a distressed girl on the side of the street alone at night, Abby thought.

"I'll just book a taxi," you explained, not wanting to burden the poor woman. She didn't deserve to be brought into this mess. The plan of the night was for you to stay at Dina's, knowing that you were a bit broke currently, but that was no longer an option for you, especially if Ellie was planning on lingering around.

"I can drive you home, if you'd like." Abby stated, her firm hand resting on top of your shoulder, noticing you shake from the cold weather of the night. "I haven't drank all night, if that makes you feel better?" She firmed, the corner of her lips stretching out into a slight smile with hopes of helping you perk up a little. It was working.

"I don't want to trouble yo-"

"If you truly don't want to, that's okay," she reassured, "But if you're just saying that not to be a burden on me, that's silly. You look stressed, I'd like to help."

Her catching you out made you chuckle, you were once again, reminded that you had been having great conversations with her before that interruption. You let out a sigh,

"Okay, you got me, I'd really appreciate a ride." That caused her smile to grow, as she looked down at you, straightening herself up before grabbing her keys from her pocket.

"Perfect, let's go."

--

The car was slightly frosted over, a cool air flowing through the vehicle as Abby handled the steering wheel with the utmost confidence.

"Thank you,"

"You don't need to say thank you, glad to help," Abby spoke.

A few silent moments passed, questions noticeably waiting to be asked,

"So, what happened back there?"

You stilled, an air of shame washing over you,

"Um," You were slightly embarrassed, after all you were flirting with Abby at the party just seconds before the whole ordeal with Ellie, you didn't want her to think a certain way about you. Especially since she was so kindly driving you home.

"Something happened with my ex," You sighed, deciding to bite the bullet.

"Doesn't sound too good," She responded, eyes darting to glance at you before focusing back on the road. You didn't live that far from Dina's, you were probably due to arrive soon.

"That's an understatement," You paused, "I just don't understand women."

Abby let out a quick laugh,

"You and me both,"

"I mean, she ghosts me, then shows up with one of her new conquests and then fucks me in the bathroom because she saw me talking to you and leaves?" You blurted out, clearly needing to vent about it, you suddenly remembered you never ended up actually sending that text to Dina.

"Oh," Abby paused, clearly not expecting that, she recovered and quickly added, "That's awful, I'm sorry." You studied her a little, looking for any signs that she was disgusted or put off, there didn't seem to be any.

"Don't be, Ellie's not exactly the picture of healthy relationships."

"Wait, Ellie? Williams?"

"Yeah?"

"Damn, hasn't changed, has she?"

"What do you mean?" You pressed, recognising the familiar turns of your street, you mentally swore, of course it starts getting juicy just as you begin to reach home.

"Just... had an issue with her a while back, after one of our basketball games,"

Abby's car slowed to a stall, the lack of momentum had emphasised the hum of the engine and the repetitive blinks of the indicator.

Abby turned now to look at you, turning off the engine, her right arm resting on the steering wheel, your eyes couldn't help but glaze your attention on the curves of her muscles, you looked away before she caught you staring.

"Honestly, it was so long ago, but she kinda got involved with two girls on the team," You silently gaped at her, wordlessly allowing her to continue, this was news to you - did Dina know any of this?

"Basically, neither of them knew about it until Ellie got caught making out with someone else during that party after the game. We all kinda lost our shit with her and I think there was punches thrown? Kicked a lot of shit off between the team and kinda ruined the flow of our games for a while, we're all over it now but..."

"Oh," Was all you could say, you really dated Ellie not knowing anything about this. Has she always been the type of person to jump from ship to ship? You shuddered at the thought that you were just another addition to a rather extensive list.

"Sorry, I thought you would've known about it," Abby sympathised,

"No, it's not your fault." You sighed, at least now you knew the kind of person you were actually dealing with. It fuelled your anger, especially with how she behaved earlier.

A still second passed inside the car, the indicator still blinking and you suddenly felt all the more embarrassed.

"Well, sorry about all this, thank you for the ride home. I do appreciate it," You unclipped your seatbelt, turning your body slightly to grab the handle and make your exit.

"You gonna be alright?" Abby questioned, her blue eyes looking up at you, there was an unreadable expression within them, not pity but something else.

"I think? Probably just gonna rot for the next few hours," You paused, turning to face her fully. You were still on edge from before, and with this new information you didn't feel like being alone. You shouldn't do this, you shouldn't do it at all. She's probably so tired of your shit already. Yet the words forced themselves out faster than you could do anything to stop them,

"You don't have to, but would you like to come in? I could make you a hot drink or something as thanks?"

The corners of her lips turned upwards,

"I'd love to,"

—

You had brewed two mugs of hot chocolate, turning away from the counter to face the tall blonde that now sat in your living room.

"Thanks," she smiled as she took the hot cup from your grasp. Joining her on the couch, you hesitated - what now?

Do you pop a movie on? Do you play music? Your brain was begin to work overtime as you suddenly felt awkward.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," you say, finally adjusting to get comfortable on the pillows.

"You were staring at your drink for a while, there." She chuckled, blowing on the hot drink before taking a sip whilst maintaining eye contact with you.

"Got lost in the sauce again," You joked, not wanting to speak about Ellie any longer.

"Happens often?" She teased, one corner of her lips quipped up slightly.

"More than I'd like to admit,"

"Thanks again, for the ride."

"You don't have to keep saying thank you, angel, it wasn't even a ten minute drive." She explained, you felt more at ease. Abby truly was something else, she had this comforting air around her where you just felt safe and understood.

"Still, you didn't have to,"

"Darling, I'm gonna need you to stop saying thank you for basic human decency," She insisted, her tone firm but gentle, her eyebrows moved in a way you could only read as 'you know?'.

"You don't owe me anything, alright? I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." Abby proclaimed, her voice lowering, becoming shy, almost. "If it helps, I'm glad Dina introduced us."

You felt a tug in your chest as you processed her words. You met her eyes, a warm feeling washed over you, uh oh.

"I'm glad she introduced us, too."

She seemed satisfied with that, a smile coating her lips as she turned her attention back away to her drink.

You decided to get yourself off the couch, Abby's light eyes following your trail, still encompassing the almost finished mug with her hands. You bent down, on your knees in front of her, Abby was suddenly glad your back was facing her, as her eyes would've certainly made you privy to where her gaze had landed.

You reached underneath your coffee table, aimlessly throwing your hand underneath it into the separate compartments. Abby was mentally cursing herself for looking, yet your shirt had ridden up slightly, the bend of the dimpled bottom of your back leading to the perfect curve of your ass— Abby looked away, she didn't want to think thoughts like that about you, not under these circumstances, at least. Stop being such a lesbian, Abby- She thought.

Truth is, Abby really liked talking to you at Dina's party. She was enthralled as soon as Dina brought you over to her, your thick curls perfectly framing your face, she thought back to when you told her your name, the way your velvety lips moved with the words and the way your eyes sparkled as you took in her frame.

She quickly discovered you were easy to talk to and there was clearly mutual attraction there, but she didn't want to pressure you into anything, especially since Abby figured Ellie had done enough damage for one night. Abby thought to what you said, how all of that happened because Ellie saw you talking with her, it angered her, you deserved so much better than that, but it also gave her an odd feeling of subtle pride. Ellie felt jealous over her? Well, then she should've acted right, Abby thought, thoughts interrupted by your voice.

"Ah!" You breathed out, finally grabbing what you were looking for. With your free hand, you pulled the hem of your shirt back down a bit, turning to Abby who was busy downing the rest of her drink to avoid looking at you.

She propped the mug on the table, before muttering,

"Jenga?" A chuckle escaped her, a warm feeling grew in her chest as she saw the impish look on your face,

"Come on, it's old but it's a classic— and, it has questions on them, what do you say?" Abby took in your features, eyes glinting with excitement and lips curved into an expectant smile. Her breathing sped up, air suddenly trapped.

"How can I say no to that?"

—

"I give it a week." Dina exclaimed, an isolated smirk on her face, you had just told her about your night with Abby after her party. You had ended up just playing silly board games and talking most of the night, to Dina's discontent apparently as a she was currently placing bets on when you and Abby will undoubtedly sleep together, her words.

"Dina!"

"Come on, you're lesbians. It's the prophecy."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head at her as you secured your earrings on.

You glanced over at yourself on the full length mirror in Dina's bedroom, unsure.

"You look hot, don't worry," she smiled, "Lowers my bets to less than three days." Dina finished with a wink, walking with you to the entrance of the house.

Her confidence only seemed to make you more nervous, Abby had invited you to a party with her teammates, you would've dragged Dina with you but lucky for you, she had already made plans with Ellie.

Ellie. Even mentally, her name was thought of with disdain. You hadn't seen her since that night, nor did you want to. Right now, your focus was on Abby, and you didn't want to let her have enough power to sour your entire night.

Your phone buzzed, a message from Abby saying she was parked outside,

"She here?"

"Yeah,"

"Alright, well good luck~" She gushed, almost pushing you out the door. Dina felt content, knowing that she was helping you get over Ellie, even a little. She loved you both, but she couldn't sit back and watch that particular fire burn itself out.

You stepped out of Dina's place, making your way over to the only car outside you recognised, where Abby was standing in between the driver's seat and the car door. God, she looked good.

Abby glanced up from her phone before smiling widely at you.

"Hey, pretty, you ready?" Her voice was so soft, you found yourself hanging on every syllable she uttered. You tried to control your facial response to her words, even though, you are almost certain that she knows exactly how you feel about her. She seemed to get this impish expression in her eyes. Mirth.

You wonder if she feels the same thing.

"Born ready." You smile back up at her, Abby opens the passenger door for you and waits until you're fully settled into the seat before shutting the door, making her way around to her side and joining you.

Clicking her seatbelt into place and switching on the ignition, her larger hand finds its way on to the top of your thigh, fingers spaced out confidently as her thumb strokes your skin over your jeans.

You fight the urge to adjust your body, suddenly hyperaware of the way your body is reacting to such a simple act.

"Let's go then,"

—

Abby stops by her house before the party, had to grab something apparently.

She parked her car inside the blocky carpark for her apartment building, managing to find a space somewhere in this car maze. Turning the ignition off, she moved her hand off your thigh, not before turning her gaze towards you.

It looks like she has something to say, yet no words escape her.

You take the opportunity to look at her, her features, your eyes trailing down her face to her plump lips.

"You're beautiful, you know." You say to her, you feel yourself enter some sort of daze. No other thoughts, all you can think and inhale is Abby. Your mind completely clouded and the only clarity being her.

You see a flash of red cross her cheeks, though she quickly steeled her expression, the left corner of her lips tilting up as her eyes landed on your own lips.

Abby clicks off her seatbelt, her hands coming back to return to their comfortable spot on your thighs, slightly wrapping her fingers around the outside of them as she lightly grabs you a little closer to her.

Your faces are inches apart now, you glance down at her lips, clicking off your own seatbelt before placing yourself on her lap in the driver's seat. You connect your lips with hers as your hands meet the back of her neck.

Abby quickly responds and returns the kiss, tightening her grip on your thighs, her other hand running up your side, softly making contact with your back.

You slowly wind your hips across hers, dragging yourself up using the force of your legs which are spread over her lap.

Her mouth opens slightly as you start making out. Tongue softly brushing over her bottom lip before you gently bite and pull her skin down, causing a moan to escape her lips.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're going to make me do something stupid." Her voice low, warm with honey.

Her hands crawl back down to the top of your jeans, underneath the fabric to meet the back of your ass, kneading your skin with a strong grip, groaning as she was actually touching you after cursing herself out for even glancing at your exposed back the other night. A part of her was relieved that you wanted this just as bad as she did.

"Like what?" You tease, placing gentle kisses on her neck, alternating different amounts of pressure as you kissed up to behind her ear.

"Like fuck you in my car." You shuddered.

"Maybe that's what I'm after," You drag your hips across hers again, meeting her lips once more in an ardent kiss.

"Careful," She whispered, fingers tightening around the ample skin of your cheeks, pecking your lips lightly, "Don't do anything you'd regret."

You chuckled, "Baby if I regret anything, it wouldn't be you." Looking at her through your lashes, eyes doe and wanting, lips plump and swollen, Abby found it harder to be a voice of reason, especially when the very picture of enticement was sat pretty on her lap, uttering words that were ever so sweet and inviting. Her resolve was dropping, made obvious by the way her chest raised and sank with each breath, her pupils blowing out the blue of her eyes slightly. She decided, then, that you were going to be the death of her.

Your lips met again, the pacing quickened this time, "Well, in that case," she muttered, taking advantage of the way her hands were already cupping your ass to slowly drive your hips over her thigh. Abby inched her head into the curve of your neck as she left feathery pecks on the supple skin, lifting her knee an inch higher to graze your centre, the tips of her eyebrows lifting as she spoke, “Can I?”

Needing to take a deep breath to calm your speeding heart rate, thinking if she really needed to ask at this point when you were so clearly turned on right now. “I swear, I’ll die right now, if you don’t,” You managed to let out, trying to rub yourself against her as the pressure building up was getting unbearable. Abby breathed out a soft laugh, resuming her attack on your neck and up to your earlobe, you almost cried from the sensitivity that eagerness had cursed you with, you were thankful that night had fallen, the darkened shadows of the late hours hiding your depraved salacity.

Tongue grazing the skin underneath your ear, Abby shuffled a little in her seat, exposing something solid underneath your leg, concealed under her jeans, your eyebrows furrowed and eyelids jolted open, had that been there this whole time? The newly discovered information had your mind reeling, obscene thoughts reigning your head as you realised she must’ve been walking around with that thing. You wondered if she always walked around with that thing. The thought was too much, your core became increasingly warmer and damp, throbbing as she kneaded you over the plastic extension of herself.

“Fuck,” you gasped, mewling at the rigidity of her strap through your clothes, rubbing up against you. You couldn’t hold your tongue, “You always keep that on you?” voice breathy as her hands met the skin of your torso underneath your shirt, your stomach tensing as the skin rippled with shivers from her touch. Not even letting her answer your question, you spoke again, voice wavering, “We’re gonna be late to meet your friends,”

“Honestly, pretty girl, I couldn’t give a damn about that right now,” Abby’s voice deepened, coated with a thick wave of carnality. Her wandering hands gently lifted your top, exposing your breasts to her as she placed her tongue over the hardened peaks, before speaking again, “Not when you’re in front of me looking like that,” Her demeanour was composed, trying to mask her ardour and the slight tremble in her hands that she prayed you didn’t notice, but she, too, felt the innate fervency that was electrifying the air. She looked you over, shirt lifted, mouth agape, body gleaming in the scarce light from the windows, twitching with anticipation. Your eyes watching hers, cheeks warming under her heavy gaze. You were absolutely delightful, and she couldn’t hold herself back from indulging, nor did she want to.

Her hands finally reached the waistband of your jeans, fingers twining around the belt loops as she pulled them down to your knees, allowing you to rushingly pull off the remaining fabric that clung to your legs, carelessly shoving them down somewhere to the bottom of the car floor. The remaining baggy shirt draping over your thighs. It was a sight for sore eyes, Abby thought. You unzipped her pants, eagerly pulling out her strap that she had been walking around with. You looked up at her, a hint of a smirk on your lips, Abby placed one hand at the base, angling the tip against your covered slit, watching as your slick seeped further over your lace underwear, leaving a distinctive translucent mark of your arousal. You moaned, eyes shutting as you bent your head down against her clavicle, hiding yourself from the embarrassment you felt at being so exposed in your desire for her. She wasn’t even in, yet, for fuck’s sake, and you were already weak.

“Don’t hide, baby,” She uttered, voice quiet and sweet as she bit back her own moans at the sight. Abby slipped the tip under the hem of your panties, the stiff cap of her strap rolling over your folds, spreading your slick up to your clit, in full sight as the thin, wet fabric of your underwear clung to her shape, exposing the sinful silhouette of her strap under your panties, “Wanna look at you.”

Abby smirked as she felt how little friction it took for her strap to slide up against your folds, “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Her voice tense, groaning as she watched her own movements, teeth grabbing the bottom of her own lip as the tip became covered in slick, hidden beneath the fabric, “All wet and ready, could just slide right in,”

“Abby, p-please, can’t take it,” You whimpered, the pressure against your clit was stirring you towards insanity, but it wasn’t enough, not when she was teasing you with the damn thing, not when she was so, so close. You couldn’t take her relentless teasing any longer, spurred and waiting as you could only sit there as she decided to mess with you, you thought you’d come right there and then.

“Please what, baby?” She smirked, the edge of her lip tilting up as she watched you lose more and more of your patience, hips jutting towards her as a means to feel more of her. Lips meeting the edge of your jaw as she left the softest kisses on your skin, pausing to look over at you, the way your expressions morphed into desperation and eyebrows pinched together, just waiting for her to move properly. “Please, just p-put it inside, need to feel you inside, Abby-please” The desperation in your voice pulled at her, her own heat throbbing as she admired you, thankful that someone up there had blessed her with this sight tonight. Whichever lesbian gods resided up there to gift her such a vision. The sight of you falling apart and begging for her made her lose all the remaining composure she tried so hard to cling on to, as she slid up into your walls, you welcoming her as she slipped right in. You were so wet that she could hear the perverted sounds of your pussy sucking her in, your hands clawed at the back of her neck, head against her collarbone as you bit into her shoulder, grasping on to any remaining dregs of stability you could find. Your hips began to roll against hers on their own, seeking their own path.

“There, that’s it, baby. See, how you can take it,” Her words were anything but innocent, yet the saccharine tone of her voice was pulling you further into your climax, like a siren dragging you into deepwater, you were rendered wordless at this point, having been so turned on for so long must’ve melted your brain to mush, so you could only lean against her and ride her out. Could only sit there and take it, “You’re such a good girl for me, baby, that’s it,”

“You feel.. s-so fucking good, Abby,” Your babbles seemed to exacerbate Abby’s movements, lack of coherent words spurring her on as the harder thrusts hit the back of your cervix, drawing out the loudest sound you’ve ever heard be forced out from between your lips, you lifted your head to look at her, she looked just as ruined as you. Her eyes fixed on where you and her strap connected, folds gripping her each time she pulled out, “Fuck, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well, like you were born for my cock,” Her words were now blatantly sinful, Abby’s head just as mushed as yours felt as she rambled, drunk on feeling as if the strap truly was attached to her. She was usually such a gentlewoman, patient and respectful, but now? In this moment you saw another side to her, one that was so carnal in her desire and knew exactly what to say to make you see double. “I can almost feel you clenching around me,”

“Fuck-mm, Abby, I’m so close,” Her strap was splitting, your eyes shut as the repeated hits against your walls reverberated through your system, you bounced your hips against hers, sucking her further in. The insides of your thighs were drenched, your slick having dripped down all over her strap as she moved. You felt your brain almost explode when Abby’s fingers met with your clit, rubbing against the bud as her other hand reached up to grasp your jaw, with a little pressure, just enough for your plump lips to jut out slightly as she reconnected your lips. Her name sounded so sweet on your tongue, the familiar swell of pride returned, proud that it was her name you were currently moaning out, hers and hers alone. She wondered if Ellie ever made you like this, or if it was reserved just for her.

You could die happy, you thought, if this was the last humanly pleasure you felt. Her tongue moved against yours, before biting your bottom lip, you couldn’t focus on anything but her, the way she was making you feel. Your vision becoming slightly blurred as the pressure in your lower stomach built up, tightening as you felt it increase and increase as her fingers played with the bundle of nerves paired with the repeated beats of her pressing herself into you. Her hand loosened its grip on your jaw, she reached to the hem of your shirt, lifting it to reveal your breasts, nipples stiff as the movement of your bodies made your breasts spring up and down, the skin of your ass recoiled as gravity worked its magic, Abby was entranced, mesmerised as she watched you glow closer. Your hands grabbed at her, running down from her neck to reach her well-built biceps, nails digging into the buff muscles, drawing tiny red marks which contrasted against her skin. Playing basketball must really keep her busy.

Abby was no fool, she had clocked you staring at them enough, she let out a grunt as she felt the sharp sting on your nails. The act prompted her, losing the grip over her mouth as she was incited to new levels. “Like my arms, sugar?”

“Abby..” you mewled, pushing your face into her neck in the embarrassment that you had been clocked, “They’re just so big,”

Abby chuckled, “I’ll show you what they’re capable of soon enough,” Her words went straight to your core, making you clench tightly around her.

“For now, I want you to come all over my cock, sweetheart,” She grabbed at the skin of your breasts, kneading her large hands over them, pulling and tweaking your nipples as your body fell into her, lips open as the overstimulation hit its peak, eliciting a final drawl from you as your body shook against her. “Fuck… there you go, baby,” she dragged your orgasm out, still pushing her cock into you as you rode it out, “Fuck.. fucking orgasm lasted so long,” you sighed into her neck, mumbling voice wobbled as your legs twitched against her, spilling your cum all over her strap as it leaked out of you. She slowed her thrusts, keeping herself inside you until you were done. Your sensitive walls still reacting to her.

You felt completely worn out as she finally slipped out of you, you shyly lifted your head to make contact with her gaze, her eyes warm and gleaming as she attempted to hold back a smile, “That was..” You could hardly finish your sentence, placing a soft kiss against her lips as she grabbed your neck, holding your head up and rubbing her thumb over the soft skin of your jaw. “Wow.”

“Speechless, huh?” She couldn’t contain herself, an air of cockiness in her demeanour, her mind wandered to what this meant for you both now.

“If you think we’re still going, I have bad news,” You muttered, still in a daze as a wave of sleepiness hit you,

“Sweetheart, we’re not going anywhere but upstairs to my apartment,” You smiled at her, this was exciting. You felt comforted with her, “Don’t think I’m not returning the favour, by the way,” Abby laughed, nodding as she kissed your neck.

“Shit, I owe Dina 20 bucks,”

“Wait, what?”

—

like, comment or reblog to your hearts desire if ya enjoyed :p

[myluvrrhea]

— Girl Of My Dreams |R.Ripley

Request - Would you consider writing judgement day or rhea Ripley x reader [platonic but can be romantic if you prefer that] And basically the reader gets betrayed by their tag team partner, and obviously they are devastated because they were really close (think like liv4brutality, for example) — @princessthatcantfuckingsleep 💞

Song for this fic — Girl of my dreams :: Guti

Pairings - Rhea Ripley x Fem!Wrestler!Reader

Warnings — R!getting punched, passing out, crying, Angst + Fluff, Rhea comforting you in the end 🩷 [Lemme know if I missed any]

You looked up at Shayna. She had been your tag team partner for about 5 months. Everything was going smoothly until you two lost the only title chance you guys would have for a while. 

The anger on Shayna’s face told it all. She sneered as she looked down at your broken figure. 

“Why did you tap out? You knew this was the only title chance we have.” She spat at you. 

You knew she was enraged when she combed her fingers through her hair. The same angered expression staying the entire time.

“Look Shayna im sorry— It was just too painful you know-“ You were cut off by a punch. You were dumbfounded, as you put your hand on your forehead. Tears threatening to spill.

Shayna gave you a few more punches before walking out of the ring. A cold expression painting her face. The pain was unbearable. Not only were you hurt, but embarrassed. You knew she would be mad about the loss. But this — this was unexpected.

The camera panned on your tearstained face. The pain clear as day in your expression.

“THIS IS MY BRUTALITY”

The crowd erupted into cheers hearing Rhea’s theme. Ready for what would happen next.

Y/N’s POV

I looked up as I heart the infamous theme song, of Rhea Ripley.

“Well lady’s and gentleman’s we have a sudden visit from non other than Rhea ripley, who has been women’s world champion for a while now. Seemingly undefeated. But what is she doing here?” I heard Michael Cole comment. I was just as confused as everyone else was.

I saw Rhea holding her title as she ran over to the ring, sliding in. I looked up at her standing figure. She scooped me up into her arms. I felt my vision growing blurry, and before I could talk my vision had gone black.

No ones POV

“It appears Y/N has passed out in the arms of the seemingly terrifying, Rhea Ripley.” Michael commented the worry evident in his voice.

Everyone in the arena watched as Rhea carried you backstage. Her title on her shoulder and a worried expression painting her face.

As soon as Rhea had gone backstage people crowded the halls trying to check on you. You had been a favorite to many of the wrestlers. Your bubbly and energetic made you loved by many. And when people saw what had happened— they felt scared and worried about you.

You had a dark purple bruise on your lip and forehead. Rhea had been yelling for everyone to move out the way. She was enraged because of what Shayna did to you. Although She had done the same thing to liv. 

“She needs help move over,” She spoke with an attitude. Pushing pasted the crowds of worried crew members and wrestlers. 

Once she sat you down on the medical bed, she quickly yelled at the medic to help you quickly. Her worry and anger pilling up inside her.

YOUR POV

I squinted my eyes adjusting to the white lights flashed at me. I opened my eyes and tried sitting up, soon feeling a stinging pain on my shoulder. I heard yelling next to me a familiar deep aussie accent.

“Do you not understand she needs help. Look at her look at the condition shes in,” Rhea spoke, pointing down at me. 

She. Was.  Pissed.

“I know ma’am but she’s-“ the medic was cut off by Rhea. 

“No, no “buts” she needs help cant you see-“ 

“Rhea?” I cut rhea off while sitting up. Pain taking over my body. I was confused on why Rhea had carried me backstage. Better yet why she was still here.

Rhea turned to look at me, a small smile forming on her face. 

“Hey, are you feeling any better?” She asked me. It seemed like her mood had taken a 360. The anger she had from before had faded off.

“My head and arms still hurt, but I think I’ll do just fine,” I answered flashing her a sad smile back. We sat in silence for a moment before I spoke again.

“It just hurts what Shayna did to me. I just thought she was different,” I looked up at rhea tears pooling my eyes. 

“It’s gonna be alright. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll be your tag team partner. The fans will love it,” Rhea sat onto the medical bed, pressing a kiss on my forehead. 

“Thank you.” I spoke.  bearying  my head into her neck.

“No problem. Ill always be here for you.” Rhea replied, laying her head onto yours.

A/N — @princessthatcantfuckingsleep thank you for requesting <33 im still getting to other requests at the moment so expect for more to come 💞

[klttn]

sensitive bunny!reader x valentino where he needs to learn to be softer with the little bunny <3

- 🧸🫧

𐙚 ⋆˚ 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝓂𝑒 ⋆ ｡ ྀི

— 𝜗𝜚 valentino x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : val gets shouted at by his sensitive little bunny and asks her to teach him how to be gentle. nsfw. degrading. name calling. crying. dacryhilia. val is manipulative. bunny!reader. this is extremely toxic.

valentino thought he was the perfect boyfriend. the boyfriend of you’re dreams. how could he not be? he was rich, powerful and oh so very — sexually —experienced. and fuck did you love that. but he made you cry more than he gave you butterflies and he slapped you more than he touched you softly. yes that part was enticing, especially to your cunt. but you also just craved him treating you like the little baby conejita he told you were, his soft bunny to hold and take care of. hell, you wouldn’t care if he abused you as long as he babied you. you couldn’t stand being called his slut when you knew that’s all he told everyone at work. you didn’t want be just another one of his whores. a bitch to breed and discard.

part of you wondered if he even knew how cruel he was to you. if he knew that you cried over him so often, never pleasure filled or love intoxicated.

he didn’t.

he treat you like this because that’s all he knew. was it right? no. but it pained your heart either way that he genuinely thought he was treating you right. and it did his too when you broke down at feet, kneeling, broken sobs begging him to just stop.

“conejita, i don’t understand. why’re you being like this baby?” all his multiple arms surrounded your vision — and body. “you usually love it when i tell you how much of a whore you are for me.” a sob broke through, your arms held tightly to your chest no matter how badly you wanted to let him take control and just succumb to his touch.

“i am not a whore.”

valentino scoffed a little at that, his voice still smooth as honey as he condescendingly spoke to you. “conejita, yes you are.” he sighed, hating how the tears rolling down you face was from him and wasn’t anything pleasurable. “you’re my little slut and you always have been.”

you flinched in his grasp when he said that. small, salty droplets sliding down onto val. “then why do you call me your girlfriend, why do you say i’m so special when i’m just a whore to you like everyone else?” your voice was weak but crystal clear, the broken sobs only inching there way through a little bit. “the only difference is i can leave of my own free will, or can i? we both know you’re not above hurting and forcing people to do things they don’t want.” low blow. even if val deserved it.

his heart dropped, his touch receding in disgust at the venom laced on his pretty bunny’s lips. did she really think so low of me when it came to her? “bunny…” for the first time in your life val sounded.. soft? his confidence fleeting just like is hold on you did. “there is a difference. i love you, i don’t love those other whores.”

it was as if a knife was thrown right into your chest. he loved you. did he really? your voice was barely above a shy whisper as you spoke, sobs muffled now but your eyes still brimmed with tears unshed. “then why do you hurt me so much? why do you treat me like i’m nothing but replaceable?”

“i thought you liked it when i hurt you baby? when i slap you and be rough with you, you told me you liked that.” val sounded hurt, confusion evident. but he never was very smart. “there’s only one bunny for me and she’s right here and all mine.”

“im not-“ your voice trailed off a touch. “im not talking about sex.” you whispered, fully ignoring the last half of his words.

“then what? he dipped himself back down to you, his arm wrapping around you in a possessive hook, ignoring the flinches and small protests falling from your lips. “please conejita, tell me what, i can’t stand to see you like this and it not be because of my cock.”

your bunny nose twitched and sniffled involuntarily, soft ears coward further into your hair, your gaze refusing to meet his as you looked at your knees, still kneeling. “you’re mean to me n- i don’t like it.” you huffed in frustration but you still sounded to weak, “i just- i don’t wanna be the same as all the other girls you sleep with.”

vals eyes widened in shock as you spoke, he didn’t mean to make you cry. for once. these types of relationships were what he was used to, not real but built on sex and control and whilst you still loved him in control of you, you were just a sensitive baby after all. “other girls? conejita, you’re so stupid.” you show him a glare at the word. “baby, im sorry but you are, i haven’t fucked anyone but you for months. now im not one for monogamy but why would i fuck anyone else when i have my pretty little girl who lets me do whatever i want to her?” he smirked at the last part, knowing you’d react. and you did.

a small blush crept up your cheeks, eyes still glassy but now innocently wide and staring straight up at val like a lost puppy. “you haven’t, really?” val nodded, pointy teeth being shown as he smiled down at you. “but- your job, it-“

“requires me to direct porn, not to star in it.” val sighed, kissing his teeth and looking around the room. “conejita, look at me.” there was no room for arguing. his finger hooked under your chin lifting your face to meet his towering gaze. “you look so pretty like this, little bunny.” his fingers traced the tears bleeding down your face. “can you do something for me?” you nodded weakly. tension so think it could cut diamonds.

“teach me.” the words fell from val’s lips so delicately, you could pass out from the soft tone in his voice.

“wha- what do you mean?”

“i don’t know how to love you right, teach me.” he traced his hands down your face, touch somehow rough for such a gentle notion. “teach me how to love you, kiss you, hold you, teach me how to be yours like you are mine.” you arched into his touch everywhere his fingertips trailed, chasing the way it felt to have him like this.

“like this-“ your resolve was starting to fade. “need you to be soft with me, please, val jus- please don’t hurt me.”

“you just need to be my baby bun, don’t you? not my whore but my precious girl?” his voice had the same addicting honey to it without the poison and this was so much better. you nodded your head, tears now falling from the relief and need for more of this.

“can- can you hold me?” it sounded pathetic but you didn’t care. val wordlessly hooked two of his arms underneath your thighs, his other two still trailing your body, small bruises forming on your knees from the harsh floor. he stalked over to the large bed, satin sheets and silk covered it, sitting atop the pillows at the height of the bed. the hands on your body softly moving you, forcing your legs into a straddle and coercing your neck to dip into his collarbones, before wrapping around you and drowning your senses in only him.

“like this?” his thumb ran over your floppy ear, stroking the fur then and revelling in the small whimper of submission that raked through you. you nodded your head, nuzzling further into him. “good girl.” you nuzzled more, getting impossibly closer.

valentino sighed in frustration at himself. “you’re so cute, little conejita. so adorable. all i want to do is protect you like this.” you clung to him as if he would disappear or return to his mean words and harsh grip if you didn’t savour it.

several minutes passed before he pulled you out of the crook of his neck by your hair, it was a hard pull but the way his hands were caressing where he yanked and the look in his eyes had you melting. “my sensitive little girl,” val’s thumb traced over your bottom lip, your mouth quickly enveloping his thumb before he could move it, sucking softly, innocent eyes staring up at him. “i fucking love you conejita. don’t ever forget that or question it ever again.” you whined in agreement, sending vibrations over his thumb. the same thumb that now rubbed over your tongue in such an addicting way.

“is this all you wanted, baby? fuck, i don’t have to hurt you to get you exactly how i want you, do i? i don’t have to slap you into submission because you’re already my obedient little bun.” you nodded, rolling your hips slowly. val didn’t need teaching on how to treat you like this. he just needed to realise you were his without having to be mean to you to prove that. “this is more addicting than when you’re fighting me.” he groaned, pushing up into your hips and losing himself a little in the wet heat of your mouth. tears brimmed in your eyes from the sting of him pushing his fingers down your throat and the overwhelming scenario happenening. his is all you wanted. needed. and it was better than you could’ve ever imagined.

you pulled off his thumb with a pop, panting cutely as you caught your breath. “i need more, please — closer.” you begged, the tears that had brimmed now spilling for the millionth time that night. “please don’t stop treating me like this.” val swore in that moment he didn’t deserve you. his lips crashed into yours, long tongue twisting around yours, controlling and guiding your kiss, enveloping your mouth in the heat of his. small whines of bliss made their way into the kiss before val could pull back, your tongues still connecting with a string of spit.

“is this okay conejita?” his roaming hands going under your clothes but still so soft in comparison o anything you’d felt from him before. a breathy ‘yes’ left your lips and the tears were still pouring. “so pretty when you cry, baby, so pretty.” you felt his fingers carding through the soft locks atop your head. “youre just a little bunny that needs taking care of aren’t you? not a slut, just my pretty girl. just needing to be treat like the most precious thing in the world?” you were crying harder now, frantically nodding and pathetically grinding into him now.

“guess what, conejita. that’s what you are to me.” his accent thick and raw. “and ill kill anyone who dares hurt you — even myself if you asked me to for what i’ve done to you.” you could tell he was losing composure. “how could anyone possibly hurt such a pretty little thing like you?” the question was rhetorical but his voice drew out the most lewd reactions from you, bunny instincts causing the need to rub your face into his chest.

his hands dragged you back to look at him again, drinking you in, zoning into your wet and messy face, “shit, cry for me conejita, ill lick all your tears away.”

and he did just that for the rest of the night as he took his time absolutely cherishing and worshipping his baby bun. only laying a hand on you if you begged for it. and he found he liked that much better. you willingly being pathetic for him was much more enticing than him forcing it.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 07/09

Anonymous asked: also, thats pretty distinctly not vriskas handwriting (page 2196). the hell is terezi even talking about?

Terezi, for god's sake.

@manorinthewoods asked: I'd like to note that Pyralspite's eyes are either an eighth the brightness of Alternia's sun, or Pyralspite has the ability to psychically burn out people's eyes just by wanting to. Probably the former. ~LOSS (30/8/24)

I should have guessed that Vriska's cruel and unusual punishment for Terezi was yet another case of Mindfang Roleplay.

I think it's likely that Pyralspite does have some sort of ocular ability. After all, Terezi's lusus had a vision-based power, and she's probably Pyralspite's direct descendant.

@gogogoat495 asked: Say, what do you think of the reuse/mix of animation and music from Dave: Ascend to Seer: Ascend? Is it a simple callback or are there deeper parallels between the characters and story beats?

Well, they are both lead-ups to a climactic fight between 'siblings'. Other than that, though, I'm not really sure. Dave and Terezi have always got on very well, but I can't really see any direct parallels in their personal arcs.

@manorinthewoods asked: Mindfang's classism is ridiculous. This woman straight up said 'one of such middling 8lood' about someone literally one step below her on the ladder. If she were Tavros, she would be oppressing Aradia so hard. ~LOSS (29/8/24)

In Terezi's own words, she's 'a little too teal' to be considered a true highblood. I think there's a hard line of separation here, where anyone below Vriska's caste is considered a midblood at best.

In other words: to be a blueblood, you really need to be a blue-blood.

@manorinthewoods asked: Nepeta, whose handle is arsenicCatnip, uses arsenic's atomic number as a significant element of her quirk. This implies that arsenic has the same atomic number in Alternia as on Earth, which in turn means that, at the very least, the two universes likely share a periodic table. Odd, given how one has widespread psychic abilities and the other doesn't. ~LOSS (29/8/24)

I think it makes sense that Earth inherited some of its scientific concepts from Alternia. It wouldn't be the first thing we inherited!

@heliotropopause asked: TG: maybe if you kill her at least we can finally stop obsessing over her Hah! homestuck's been over for over for almost eight years now, and people are still doing vriscourse to this day. There is no escape, i'm afraid.

'Vriscourse' is kind of killing me. I'm kind of disappointed that this is my first time hearing the term, because I'd probably have been using it this whole time.

@probablyapineapple asked: im not completely caught up on reading this liveblog yet (currently up to s67) but i think youre on track to understanding these characters better than literally anyone

Well, thank you! I have, admittedly, posted some rather hot takes in the past, though. If I recall correctly, my Act 5 shipping chart was my most controversial post to date.

@bladekindeyewear asked: Back during these times in the comic, there were broad theoryposting camps advocating for both narrower and broader interpretations of Aspect domains/powers. I know you're avoiding as much outside influence as you can, but I'm wondering if maybe after the end of this Act, you could accept some community Theorydiving from around this time that could unlock more tools for you to understand hidden evidence for Aspect Stuff you might have missed? […]

I'm definitely considering something like that. Specifically, I'd love to take a look at some of the comic's early theories - ones that had already been disproven by this point in the comic. That'll allow me to get into the headspace of Homestuck's earliest theorists, without influencing my own as-yet-unproved theories.

@manorinthewoods asked: Perhaps an older Legislacerator's job is less actually trying to pursue justice, and more going through cargo cult-esque rhythms of justice, taking its trappings and trying to bring it about while having no understanding of what they're actually doing and what the meaning of their actions is. Maybe, like the Subjugglators, they're an entire social class/blood color based around a single cult? ~LOSS (28/8/24)

I think Dave was pretty on the mark when he described early legislacerators as bounty hunters. Maybe they assumed something marginally closer to an attorney's role in Alternia's modern age - but in Redglare's era, the ideal legislacerator was a violent thrill-seeker, more concerned with bloody combat than courtroom paperwork.

@violetsquare111 asked: I do wonder how big, exactly, is the multiverse in Homestuck. I guess that's a bit of a weird question if there are "infinite universes"… but infinite potential doesn't mean infinite already-existing universes, does it? For some reason I always thought of the amount of Sburb sessions/universes being fairly small, in the grand scheme of things. Less than a million, maybe. I really don't know where I got that from, and there's probably some throwaway line in the comic contradicting it, but if applicable then it's another possible explanation for how Perfect Jack would be one-of-a-kind.

It's not impossible. That would imply that the overwhelming majority of sessions are doomed to fail - but, honestly, they might be! After all, neither of the sessions we've seen so far have been unambiguously successful.

@iris-in-the-dark-world asked: i had a dream that you went from page 3703 to page 7053 in one day

You dreamt of Sally on Adderall.

@spiddermen asked: hihi i just caught up with your liveblog and im so happy to have a chance to reread hs along with you, the first time i read it was when i was like… twelve? so nine years ago? and pretty much all of it went over my head. but now im finally getting to appreciate this masterpiece and your observations are making a lot of stuff click for me as well. so its cool to finally get to understand how freaking good this story is and i cant wait to see you react to some of the crazy later stuff also i hope this doesnt trip the spoiler sensor but some of the answers to the questions you're asking are only answered in sequel material so i do really hope you'll read those, they're ignored by a lot of the fans but they're honestly really really good and i feel like you're the kind of person who would get the intended experience out of them. and psycholonials as well! everyone ignores it but it practically is homestuck (2) to me

Thank you! And yeah, we've talked a bit about this before. Cat and I had a discussion about the subject back in Act 3, and I'm well aware that this comic isn't going to answer all of my questions. Honestly, it would be pretty surprising if it did - I've been digging really deep into aspects of the comic that are clearly just meant to be background details.

As for whether I'll be dipping into Hussie's other projects, or Homestuck's non-canon material - I'm certainly going to check them out, but only time will tell whether they get the full liveblogging treatment. That said, if it addresses questions of mine that Homestuck itself doesn't elaborate on, consider my interests piqued.

@manorinthewoods submitted: I sorta skimmed Homestuck, and missed out on basically all of the Flashes going through, so I totally missed the fact that WQ wrote a romantic fanfic about herself, which is really funny. It does have a serious aspect, though - it implies something about her relationship with WK, no? I suspect they may be friendly with one another, but fate gives their relationship a bit of tragedy - as well as a bit of 'we are simultaneously both forced to be in a romantic relationship and also only being co-rulers'. Is WQ<3WK a thing? Doesn't have to be. I suspect it may be something like WQ<>WK […]

Plus, Carapacians are clones, so it's not like the Royals need to make any heirs. Really, they only need to be co-workers - but the idea that they might have a moirail-adjacent relationship is very cute.

Anonymous asked: Grimdark Rose: "Vengeance and rage are all I live for now, seeing my dead mother makes me feel nothing, I will-" John: Exists Rose: "OMG bestie hiiiiii" ~DJ

First Vriska, now Rose. It seems like John's the perfect calming influence for any out-of-control Light Player.

Anonymous asked: Not sure if you noticed, the tapestries about the kids' quests are all referencing the [S] pages with misattributed quotes associated with each kid (pages 82, 307, 444, and 2988). The quotes are, respectively, from Maxims by Francois de La Rochefoucauld, The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot, Drop It Like It's Hot by Snoop Dogg, and possibly an original piece by Hussie ending with a line from Hamlet. I don't think any of them mean anything.

The quotes might not be Hussie originals, but they definitely seem to evoke the kids' respective Quests. Dave's quote is a bit of an exception, though...

Anonymous asked: "They wait for he who would drop it while it's hot whilst the pimp's in the crib." I mean, you laugh NOW, but knowing Andrew and this comic, can you honestly say this won't end up having an incredibly important and literal meaning? @walkerbehindyou asked: Is there a quest more suited for Dave than to show up at his denizen’s (certainly the pimp of LOHAC) palace in the past and drop straight fire?

...but perhaps that means it's foreshadowing something we haven't seen yet. If Dave ends up making a Choice, I wouldn't put it past him to rap an answer to his Denizen.

@iris-in-the-dark-world asked: the soundtrack of the grimdark rose segment really gets to me. i'd highly recommend the first few songs of that album

Black Rose/Green Sun was a great song. It evoked a very different feeling than anything we've heard before, and really highlighted how alien Rose has become, now that she's been fully submerged in darkness.

@manorinthewoods asked: Ooh, here's an idea - when you do the Sahlee-and-Sally Let's Play, set it in an alternate Sburb that's based on all of your incorrect theories. Every Land has a God Tier Moon orbiting it, for instance. Would be really cool - your theoretical Sburb has a lot of super fun stuff in it. ~LOSS (12/8/24)

Oh, I like that idea. It means I can finally bring back the anti-Skaia, which is probably my favourite since-disproven theory.

Anonymous asked: I never realised that the pillow that Rose uses then is the one from her mum - well spotted :,(

A mother will do whatever is best for her children.

And a daughter will remember what was best about her mother.

Anonymous asked: So. Do you think that a Horrorterror-Boosted Rose has any chance against a First Guardian Prototyped Jack Noir? We've seen that if left alone Jack can destroy Entire Worlds and his teleporting is Nigh Instant, plus who knows how far he can go in a single teleport! […]

Dark Rose is arguably a God-Tier level threat, but we've just seen Jack one-shot a God Tier. I don't think she has a hope - there's only so many bullet-time stabbings she can take!

Anonymous asked: its really interesting to see you say that rose saying she felt mom was a sister and a mother at once made u feel like there must have been camraderie. for me, it reinforced the idea that moms parenting forced rose to act like a peer to mom when it came to her alcoholism? in the sense that moms alcoholism took her out of commission, and made it so that rose had to take care of herself in a lot of ways that a parent would, putting them on similar levels. So its interesting to see a different interpretation!

It's not impossible. To me, Rose's monologue reads as if she's trying to express her admiration of her mother. This is the first time she's admitted to having positive feelings for her guardian, and I think she's regretting that she never voiced these feelings to the woman herself, before it was too late.

That's just one reading of her words, though. I think her monologue here is meant to be ambiguous, just like the Lalonde mother-daughter relationship always was.

@manorinthewoods asked: Ooh, you're thinking of a Carapacian player, huh? That would be interesting - imagine if they go in with, like, complete knowledge of how Sburb works, so they prototype something super strong in order to buff the Ring that they then steal and equip. ~LOSS (12/8/24)

That would be interesting. Carapacians are the only species where the game can't fully compensate for the power of your race by buffing Underlings, since buffing the Underlings would also buff the Ring I'm abusing!

@skelekingfeddy asked: re: troll romance: i generally lean towards xenopsychology, mixed in with a secret 4th thing (humans can also feel troll romance), with a little dose of propaganda, and also an undercurrent of parody (because Hussie. everything has an undercurrent of parody (e.g. pretty much all the trolls are based on internet stereotypes). i COMPLETELY disagree with the notion that the quadrants are made up unhealthy bullshit. i think theres a genuine evolutionary biological origin for the quadrants if matespritship is all about Companionship, then kismesissitude is all about Competition, Rivalry, a drive to push yourself and make yourself better. both are generally healthy and beneficial in their own ways. the evolutionary basis for moirallegiance and auspisticism is the need for pacification, a better half, to prop up matespritships and kismesissitudes and keep them from being interfered with (as described in-comic). each quadrant is the result of a genuine primal, biological urge

I don't necessarily think the quadrants are fabricated, but I do think that the version of them that exists on Alternia are unhealthy more often than not, particularly when it comes to black romance. Monogamous auspisticism requires an overwhelming amount of emotional labor, all the kismesissitudes we've seen have been toxic at best, and there has to be a better way to do this.

Anonymous asked: My brother's been going through your liveblog recently and it's been fun getting to re-experience it through him, especially being reminded of all the theories you have that are shockingly accurate in very inaccurate ways. The two that come to mind are your theory that Jade was engineered in a lab (which, she kinda was, but that's not unique to her) and that John's version of Sburb is bugged (the meteors, it turns out, were a part of the game as it's meant to be played, but this whole 'tumour' thing sure isn't). Also, while I'm here, going to recommend checking out Temporal Shenanigans by Rachel Rose Mitchell, which is a gorgeous fansong about Aradia that shouldn't have any spoilsies at this point. I would also rec PhemieC's music with the caveat that many of their songs are spoilery - while most of the troll-specific ones should be alright, I'd definitely say to get someone else to go through them first to be certain. Hope you're doing well!! And I look forward to seeing more of your liveblog if and when you return to it! -Megido

Oh yeah, I was talking about how Jade was made in a lab! I'd totally forgotten about that theory.

You know, her Dreambot is actually interesting in retrospect. The bed that controls it looks suspiciously like a Quest Bed, which makes me wonder just how much Grandpa knew about Sburb's lore, and what exactly he was trying to do here.

Anonymous asked: I find it a bit funny (in good way) how aspects of your troll and human sona are kinda opposites, like life and death type of thing, sweet

Really, it's mostly just me hedging on my own Aspect. Plus, having two 'sonas lets me explore twice as much Sburb lore, allowing me to come up with two weapons, Lands, Title powers, and the like.

Within the hypothetical context of the fic, I've been thinking a lot about why there'd be two Sallys. Like, was one 'sona partially cloned from the other? If so, who was the original? Technically, the Alternian version would have existed 'first', but the existence of time travel ensures that that doesn't mean much.

@manorinthewoods asked: Rather appropriate that Rose's weapon is her Thorns. ~LOSS (10/8/24)

Ayyy!

@ipunchvampires asked: "You should understand [Rose has] been corrupted by various entities with some rather questionable motives," says Entity with Rather Questionable Motives corrupting her. Kind of the perfect Doc Scratch line, honestly.

Doc Scratch is an awful person, but he's still a funny fuck.

@heliotropopause asked: wait. is that *Guybrush Threepwood* in the boat there??? @elkian asked: At the risk of being the 88th person to say something, the troll in the dinghy is a Guybrush Threepwood cameo (using the more cartoony style from Curse Of Monkey Island etc.). Man's truly unfortunate, or maybe he's lucky for not being a focal character? XD Anonymous asked: that 'one random motherfucker on a little dinghy' is in fact, guybrush threepwood from the monkey island series, thrown in as an easter egg by one of the artists who made assets for the flash @sanctferum asked: the troll on the dinghy is Troll Gybrush Threepwood. the guest artist for that scene confirmed this on the now-defunct MSPA forums IIRC

Ahahaha. Mystery solved, I guess!

I've been wanting to play Monkey Island for some time - and now I need to, so that I can understand the true backstory of of GY'BRSH TRPWUD.

Anonymous asked: I love this section, because I think it really shows something about Dave (and Rose). Because Dave just says whatever pops into his head, when he's getting command prompts, he just repeats them uncritically. (That also supports that when he said he didn't love his Bro, it was his honest reaction) @ben-guy asked: David "Zero Filter" Strider was absolutely not ready to have thoughts beamed directly into his head by an exile lmao @krixwell asked: It's so funny to me how when thoughts are incepted into Dave's subconscious mind, they just come falling right back out his mouth at the first opportunity. Filter, what filter? Those sunglasses don't hide shit.

Reminds me of his stress-rambles from early on in the comic. The reason he wears those shades is, I think, because he is a naturally expressive person - he just doesn't want to be.

[lavellane]

ok i have avoided talking abt my datv thoughts but now ive finished and slept on it here it is. this is huge btw and really just a way to process my thoughts for my own peace of mind. and get out what i need to say. so yeah word salad below

2 disclaimers before i start. firstly i think im going to be SUPER blunt and clear about my thoughts on this post but then i will mostly be putting the matter to bed in my heart bc i am not someone who delights in being a hater nor do i take comfort in it. i will take from this the things i enjoyed and keep my distance from the rest. second disclaimer: ultimately i think i will still enjoy being a part of the fandom and seeing other people enjoy the game, because it will endear it to me and maybe take away the pain im feeling right now, so this isnt a long rant to make you feel bad about enjoying the game if you do like it! in fact quite the opposite. it comforts me that there are people who find value in the game and i hope in watching you play it i may be able to eventually be able to say the same

that being said . obviously i didnt like the game

which is an extremely difficult thing for me to say. i went into this game thinking "i will at the VERY least enjoy the game. not love it but at least like it. but im sure ill love it". it really is quite distressing for me that it didnt even really reach that bar for the most part. i TRIED to like it. i begged this game to give me ANY handhold at all that i could cling to, to forgive and like this game. i think the things i liked err more on the technical side. the graphics i loved, the character DESIGN was *fantastic*. the art. the pacing. the vague vision of what they were obviously nebulously aiming for. and honestly, i mostly enjoyed the main plot although i wish it had been more disciplined and constrained with the lore it was trying to expand on. act 3 was fantastic and naturally i am happy and fulfilled for the most part by the conclusion of solas's story, who i still believe was and is the best written "villain" of dragon age. sorry logang and meredith nation but i do still stand by this.

but thats really about it. as a disclaimer i am not an origins puritan or a da2 diehard or anything like that. i have loved (almost equally) EVERY single iteration of dragon age which has been released. i am one of the few people who sees equal value in inquisition and origins. i love them both so deeply. i couldnt pick between them.

for me what i love the MOST about dragon age - and which every single previous game has always nailed despite other flaws - is the characters. right under that is the world's capacity for introspection. and unfortunately nothing in this game provided that for me

regarding the characters: i do not care about a single one of them unfortunately. or at least i do not CARE about them the way that i have CARED about the other previous games companions. companions i would write banter about !!! just for fun when i was bored!!!! i would say my only exception is harding, but even then i care about her only because i care about her due to inquisition. overall i just found them all so ..... shallow. and devoid of any of the conflict or nuance or ethical quandries that make biowares stories so compelling - and sure, usually controversial! i would give ANYTHING for this game to have been controversial. for a unforgivable RO, or a problematic fave, or a cancelled wife. did bioware forget that their most beloved or at least enjoyed characters are people like anders, merrill, mordin solus, blackwall, sten, loghain, SOLAS??? i dont understand HOW they could have forgotten that, because solas is literally right there in game and handled (in my opinion as a fan) well. love him or hate him or dont care about him, he is such a hallmark of great bioware writing (in dai if nothing else) - characters who are not EASY to like. characters who are not SAFE to write and who WILL generate criticism from all sides because they are written boldly and unapologetically, strengthened by a foundation of consistent ideals, clear objectives and beautiful faults. characters that do not NEED you to like them, but instead invite you to engage with them critically. solas, even to someone who hates him, is nuanced and morally complex enough to muse and fight over for 10 whole years. hes IN this game, just as ethically murky as ever, but the morally grey hallmark of biowares writing really does kind of live and die with him alone. the rest of the companions feel like they barely made it out of their concept phase. what are lucanis's flaws??? genuinely asking. other than being a murderer who exists in an organization which buys and trains literal child slaves of course, but i'll get to that in a sec (because bioware sure as fuck didnt). um, i guess you could say hes broody?? and emmrich too. what actual flaws does he have?? he has a fear of death, as we're TOLD, but it does not really reflect in the overall convesations we have with him over the course of the game. mostly hes just.... a little bumbling i guess. bellara's flaw is being a scatterbrain. harding's is that shes..... angry??? but shes not???? fucking come on. i really felt the lack of actually being able to TALK to these people at the end of act 2, when i realized i still felt like i havent really MET any of them. and yet here rook is talking about found family and being a team. ok

and then there are the romances. which from my perspective - having romanced taash - and my friends who have romanced lucanis, neve and davrin..... WHAT romances. davrin's full romance is 20 minutes in a 30 PLUS HOUR GAME. solas had the least amount of content out of any companion in inquisition and was a last minute unintentional RO and still had like easily 50 minutes of content. so why did these romances feel like nothing. actually nothing. i was so excited for taash, but their romance straight up felt like neither rook nor taash even wanted to be there. i forgot they were technically together at certain points. zero chemistry. zero intimacy. all TELLING zero SHOWING. if you had told me that i would be saying these sorts of things about a writer like trick weekes a month ago i would call you fucking crazy to your face. i cannot reconcile that taash was written by the same person who wrote solas. i cannot reconcile that mary kirby - who wrote the fucking chant of light - wrote lucanis. its so dire. its devastating actually.

lastly i want to talk about my other point - bioware's famed emphasis on introspection and ethically quandries. again, i'm genuinely experiencing a sense of profound whiplash because when it comes solas's character you can still see it. its still there. they actually doubled down on making him worse than he was in trespasser which i LOVED and thought was so incredibly promising. they could have caved to solavellan fans and uwu-ified him but they didnt. thats great.

but where was that energy for literally anything else. everything has been defanged - even minrathous, the capital of the tevinter slave trade, does not even ADDRESS the elephant in the room of slavery. and i know because i played a shadow dragon. so tell me why i as a shadow dragon am happily allied with the crows, who solely exist to assassinate politicians and BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES. THEY BUY SLAVES AS CHILDREN AND TRAIN/TORTURE THEM TO MURDER. HELLO??????????? there is no commentary made about the mages/templars. there is no discussion of the treatment of the elves in the north or Anywhere. there is no discussion of why exactly blood magic is or isnt acceptable - they simply tell us its bad. all the theories of the last 10 years were answered with handwaved comments or bare bones codex entries that honestly stripped so much nuance away from so many things (the blight, my BELOVED) that i dont know how im going to go about fixing it or making it right in my head. the introspective nature of dragon age always went hand in hand with player choice, but there really WAS no choice in this game as so there IS no real capacity for other interpretations or schools of thought. it is so..........................bleak.

i think the thing that finally made it click in my head that this game had fundamentally let me down was the gloom howler quest. and i know im not alone on this. for those of you who dont know - the gloom howler, "isseya" was the protagonist of the dragon age novel "the last flight". i would HIGHLY recommend you read it, especially if you're an origins fan. super bleak, super political, not flashy at all in terms of magic. it was set 500 years pre origins, during the 3rd blight. isseya is very similar to characters like loghain and solas in a way - a richly complex, beautifully intricate, terribly thought provoking character who did HORRIFIC things for the most NOBLE reason you could imagine, under the most traumatic of circumstances. im tearing up just thinking about her story, and how the title "the LAST flight" foreshadowed that her story had a definitive, bittersweet, finite and peaceful ending.

and then this game did THAT to her. turned her into a grotesque caricature of what she was. stripping her of her nuance and her capacity for atonement or forgiveness. and once again, i do not fucking get it. she was obviously brought back because she is a parallel to the solas dilemma. so WHY is she not afforded the same opportunity for empathy that he is. why is bellara's brother not either. its insane. its literally insane. i cannot begin to imagine the oversight or laziness or WHATEVER IT WAS that occured to have this game turn out this way.

there are innumerable other problems with the game that im not going to get into because what ive said above is the main crux of my problem. introspective and character. those are all i really wanted from this game, and like..... i thought we would get that. because the game centered around solas. and i know people dislike his fans for very fair reasons, but i hope those who know me know that i enjoy him not because hes hot (he is though) but because he is terrible. i love him because they made a character who was TERRIBLE, and then gave you the task of using your head and refelcting on your own morality and values and deciding and arguing and meditating over whether he is worth loving anyway. to me, solas is the person i point to when i want to describe why i love dragon age. its complicated, its nuanced, it is terrible and wonderful and everything in between depending on the angle you look at it from. and so having the writer of a character like THAT in charge of the whole game filled me with hope and dissuaded so many of my fears for this game. but i was wrong apparently.

so now im left with a feeling akin to survivors guilt. genuinely. because at the VERY least, despite me saying all of these negative things, i at least finished the game crying happy tears and being overjoyed that my favourite character was handled well and got an ending i enjoyed. and yet that happiness *i* got to feel and that glimmer of good writing was paid for at the expense of literally everything else. i feel almost personally responsible in a way, which sucks. im sorry to all the people who did not enjoy or care about solas, im sorry that you really did get nothing out of this game. i hope we can all be comforted by the trilogy we have and will always have, and i hope we can all take what good parts we enjoyed out of veilguard and make peace with the rest

leaving this youtube comment my friend sent me which is unfortunately a summary of how i feel about the game as a whole.

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

“ you're here, why? 

“To talk”

Can't say  i didn't expect this, the songs aren't exactly discreet 

Were sitting here waiting for someone to say the first word

“ i came here to apologize for my friends actions, and mine we’ve been too ashamed and embarrassed to talk about what happened at the oscars we sort of acted like it never happened until your songs came out, but i miss you i can’t sleep without you,  miss you singing in my shower not knowing i can hear you”

  i can't help but smile at his confession 

“ are you sure your team isn't just too proud to say an official apology and not try and defend their actions like they did backstage at the oscars? Please Spencer, I don’t have time for bullshit.”

“Please, meet us at dinner tomorrow”

I shake my head “ cant, i have a show tomorrow at coachella”

“  we’ll be there. Dinner afterwards?”

To be petty or to be not to be petty

“  ill see.”

Its like i can physically see him relax after i said that

The next mid day

Did i maybe wait to perform a song specifically about the bau and theyre arrogance  

Yess????

Is this maybe adding fuel to the fire???

Most likely 

As i cheerly walk up on stage crowd loud as hell which is making me happy i walk up to the mic stand

“Hi coachella.”

The crowd erupts in cheers i see in the corner of my eye the team backstage on the side of me watching me and the crowd looking surprised at how loud they are 

‘’ I wanted to start this by singing an unreleased track called u.a.b.  Yes, i know its a weird name doesn't mean anything just wanted to be weird about it”

The crowd laughs…lets hope they don't spell that backwards and somehow crack the code name

The instrumental plays, i've been working hard on my high notes and riffs so lets hope this goes well.

Yeah, you really tried

But I was planted all the lies you told me, oh

All the shit you've done

You can't outrun the way you understand me

You acted like you bought me at a bargain sale

You don't even care

You focused your frustration on a small detail

Blew it out of scale, like my ponytail

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

And I'm taking it right back

 I'm no blow up doll, no free-for-all

No slave to your decision, ooh

Gotta find a way to break the spell

To get the hell away from those who block my vision

You used me as a fragment of your grand design, hey

And you, you don't get to put me on your bottom line

You don't get what's mine, and I'm doing fine

Wow, i've never hit a note that high in my entire life and the team looks incredibly shocked, i could laugh

Said you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why would I listen?

You don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, baby

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, hey

Taking it right back, baby

Taking it right back

 I did it. The crowd is happy im so proud of myself i walk off stage after finishing the rest of my songs 

Not even paying the team any mind i go to my management and friends getting water etc 

Spencer walks up to me  

“ that was amazing, genuinely unbelievable  you must be exhausted, are you sure you feel like going to that dinner?’’

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK 

I forgot about the dinner.

links to the other parts of famous!reader series!

https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752739792312320000/i-have-no-one-to-blame-but-you?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752706752752025600/you-made-me-miserable?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752661898593435648/apologize?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752629582800257024/opposites-dont-attract?source=share