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wholoveseggs · 2 months ago

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Runaway

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen x TargaryenSister!Reader} As the rebellious younger sister of Daemon and King Viserys. You come with all of their impulses, stubbornness, and recklessness. But that isn't always a good thing, especially when it comes to sneaking out of the Red Keep. Fortunately, Daemon is always there to retrieve you and bring you home.

3.2k words - Warnings: smut, classic Targcest, lots of banter / sexual tension, Daemon being Daemon, drunk sex, hair pulling, fingering && valyrian dirty talk...

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer

@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke

@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep

"Another!"

You hiccuped as you slammed your empty tankard down onto the table. The bar wench giggled at your antics before turning to the bartender. "A strong brew for the princess!"

The bartender grunted in agreement, already beginning to mix the drinks. You hummed in delight as you looked around the tavern. It was packed with people from all walks of life. Drinking, laughing, and dancing to their heart's content. A few handsome knights were already throwing you flirtatious glances.

It was the same almost every night you came to this tavern. You could only assume it was because of your status. Your looks also helped a bit. Being a Targaryen and a princess was a dangerous combination, but it did come with its perks.

The bartender placed your tankard in front of you, and you wasted no time gulping down the strong ale. It tasted awful, but the effects were well worth the horrid taste. You could feel the alcohol working its way through your system.

Just the way you liked it.

You giggled as a knight leaned into your side. He smelled of sweat and horse shit, but he had a nice smile. You could barely make out the words he was saying to you, but you found yourself nodding along anyway. You didn't know what his intentions were, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was forget. Forget the pressure, the responsibilities, the expectations. You hated all of it.

Your family was never good at hiding their disappointment in you. The way they always scolded and punished you. How they constantly talked about what a failure you were. It made you want to scream. But this knight was a welcome distraction, the kind to worship the ground you walked on, not judge you for every little thing.

You smiled drunkenly up at him, running your hand along his bicep. The knight's face broke out into a large grin.

Suddenly, the doors to the tavern were kicked open. You groaned, you didn't have to bother looking, knowing exactly who had entered. Sure enough, the knight's expression dropped as your older brother stood there with a furious look on his face.

"Leave," Daemon commanded. His purple eyes narrowed as he glared at the man. "I need to have a word with my sister."

The knight quickly disappeared, leaving you alone with your brother. You rolled your eyes at his behavior. "Must you always scare away my friends?"

Daemon scoffed. "They are hardly friends. More like vultures," he hissed. "I'm here to take you home."

"And I refuse," you replied, already making your way back to the bar. Daemon grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him. You yelped as you crashed into his chest. You were about to protest until he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"I'll drag you home kicking and screaming if I have to," he said, his voice low and his warm breath fanning against your cheek. "And I don't think you want me to do that."

"You wouldn't," you replied, narrowing your eyes at him.

He grinned wickedly. "Are you sure?"

You knew your brother was stubborn and would do whatever it took to get his way. If he really wanted to, he would throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of the tavern. And knowing the reputation he had, no one would bat an eye.

"What would the king say if he knew where you were?" Daemon asked, his nose skimming the side of your face. "Out in the middle of the city. Drinking. Flirting with commoners. Do you really want our brother to know about this?"

You knew how Viserys felt about you. He was protective of his younger siblings, going on and on about what's best for you. He wanted to see you married off to some high lord and have children. But you weren't ready for any of that.

"The king," you mocked, rolling your eyes once more. "Viserys couldn't give two shits about what I do. As long as it doesn't interfere with his duties "

Daemon smirked. "You don't think this looks bad on him?" he whispered into your ear. You felt your knees go weak. "Always running away. Causing trouble and giving our guards the slip. I wonder what punishment you deserve."

You shivered, feeling yourself grow wetter by the second. Daemon was always such a tease, and you absolutely loved it.

"If you won't come willingly," Daemon began. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"That's only if you can catch me,” you giggled as you slipped from his grasp.

Your laughter rang through the tavern as you dashed toward the exit. Daemon followed, a wicked grin plastered on his handsome face. You reached the door and threw it open. Running out into the streets, you were met with the chilly night air.

You didn't look back, knowing that your brother would be hot on your heels. The thrill of him chasing you sent a spark of excitement throughout your body. Your blood rushed through your veins as you ran. Your laughter and his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the city.

You made a sharp turn and hid behind a nearby building. Thinking about how the night would end, hopefully with the both of you naked in bed. The thought made you shudder in anticipation. You wanted nothing more than to be his, but you knew he would never let that happen.

He was so gentle with you, it was infuriating. He even rejected a betrothal between the two of you, never explaining why. But now, it seemed that all of his careful control was slowly slipping away. You just hoped that he would continue to let it fall.

You leaned against the wall and listened as his footsteps came closer and closer. "You can't hide from me, little one," Daemon called out.

He turned the corner and spotted you. His grin widened as he made his way towards you. "Gotcha."

He had you pinned against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours. His breath was hot on your face as he leaned down.

"You should be more careful, what if it wasn't me?"

"Oh? Would you have let someone else catch me?"

His fingers curled around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "No. I wouldn't let anyone else have you," he growled, his violet eyes darkening.

"Then why do you refuse to marry me? I would be yours and yours alone." You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Because you deserve better."

You rolled your eyes at his response. It was always the same. The same bullshit answer. You were sick and tired of hearing it.

You let out a frustrated sigh, pushing him away from you. "Fuck this," you muttered under your breath, you began to storm away from him.

He was quick to grab you by the waist, pulling you back to him. His chest rumbled against your back as he chuckled. "You can be mad at me, back inside the red keep," he whispered against your ear.

Before you could reply, he lifted you up, and slung you over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" You shouted as you tried to wiggle free.

"Not a chance, sweet sister,"

The guards were used to this by now, the sight of Daemon carrying his sister back into the red keep. They paid no attention to the commotion as the two of you passed. Some were even smirking at the scene, while others just shook their heads in amusement.

You had continued to fight against him as he carried you through the halls. He didn't seem fazed by your actions. Not once did his grip on you falter.

He kicked open the doors of your chambers and shut them with his foot. The loud slam made you flinch. Daemon was never one to be subtle. He walked over to your bed and tossed you onto it.

You immediately reached for him, your hands grabbing at his tunic. He chuckled as he pushed you away. "You're drunk."

"So?" you huffed.

Daemon shook his head. "You need to rest."

"No!" you whined, reaching for him again.

Daemon sighed, and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head, "You're acting like a child," he chided.

"I don't care," you replied, kicking your legs in protest.

"Why must you always run off and cause trouble?"

"Why must you always try and stop me?" You spat back, glaring at him.

Daemon frowned, and leaned closer. "Because I worry about you."

You looked away, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on you. He let go of your wrists, and you pulled him close again, so that his lips were barely brushing against yours.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I... I just wish to see the world, to experience everything it has to offer," you continued, your voice cracking. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life locked away in the Red Keep."

Daemon's expression softened, his hands moving down to cup your cheeks. "You don't have to live like that," he whispered. "I'll take you anywhere you want, show you anything you desire. As long as you're safe."

"Anything?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, he always knew what you were thinking. "Within reason," he added.

You grinned, and pulled him down for a kiss. It was sweet, and slow. His lips were warm and soft, just the way you imagined they would be. You savored the taste of him, committing it to memory. You felt him smile against your mouth, and you knew that he had been thinking the same thing. When you pulled away, you were out of breath, your lips plump and red from the kiss.

Daemon brushed his thumb across your bottom lip. "What do you want?"

"Nyke jaelagon ao {I want you}" you replied. "Mērī ao {Only you}"

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. But all he found was the love and adoration you had for him. He kissed you, this time harder and more urgent.

You reached up and began to undo the laces of his tunic, quickly pulling it off of him. You then went to work on his breeches, desperate to see all of him. He broke the kiss, his hands moving to your hips, stilling your movements.

"Paez ilagon, dōna mandia {Slow down, sweet sister}" he purred, his accent thick with lust.

You pouted, and he smirked at your reaction as he slowly pulled at the ribbons on the front of your dress. His fingers trailed along your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Once your dress was open, he pushed the fabric to the side, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, taking a nipple between his lips, and gently sucked.

You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his silver hair. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You felt like your whole body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure.

He moved his mouth to your other breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, before giving it a soft bite. You yelped in surprise, your hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckled against your skin, the vibrations causing another moan to escape your lips.

Daemon leaned back, pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling suddenly shy. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing gently, slowly pulling your dress up over your head.

You bit your lip, trying not to squirm under his gaze. He had never seen you completely bare before, and the feeling was almost too much. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, hiding from his stare.

He hummed in amusement, his fingers tracing along the curve of your spine. The feeling of his bare skin against yours made your heart race. You pressed closer, needing to feel him.

"Lyka? {Shy?}" He teased, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded, feeling the blush spread across your cheeks.

"Issa sȳz hāedar {My good girl}" he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

His hand slid up the inside of your thigh, his fingertips brushing against your warm center. You gasped at the sudden contact, your hips instinctively moving towards his hand. He grinned, finding a spot that made your toes curl.

He began to rub small circles over the sensitive nub. You clung to his shoulders, your eyes locked with his. He watched as your breathing became ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut.

"D-Daemon," you whimpered, your legs trembling.

He smiled, pressing his middle finger against your entrance. You let out a soft cry, your nails digging into his skin. He slowly eased his finger inside of you, watching the way your lips parted.

He began to move his finger, pushing it in and out of you. Your head fell back, and your hips rocked in rhythm with his movements. His name left your lips over and over again, your voice growing louder each time.

"Gaomagon ao jaelagon syt se tolie naejot rȳbagon? {Do you wish for the guards to hear?}" He asked, his lips ghosting across your jaw.

You bit your lip, nodding your head. He chuckled, his hand moving in a slow, steady rhythm, making your entire body tremble. You could feel the tension building inside of you, the pressure rising.

He watched you closely, his eyes filled with hunger before capturing your lips with his own. The kiss was deep, and passionate, making your head spin. He broke the kiss, his fingers curling within you, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Your body arched, clenching around his fingers. Your eyes closed as you rode out the high. Your chest was heaving, and your cheeks flushed.

Daemon withdrew his hand, bringing his wet finger to his lips. His eyes darkened as he licked it clean, humming in satisfaction.

You grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his mouth in shock. "Ȳdra daor gaomagon bona {Don't do that}," you hissed, embarrassed by his actions.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk, then he pushed you onto the bed. Your back was against the soft furs, and his body pressed against yours. His cock was hard against your stomach, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin.

He leaned down, kissing along your collarbone. He sucked gently, leaving little marks along your skin.

You felt his hand slide under your hips, pulling them upwards, spreading your legs. He settled between them, his cock resting against your entrance, looking down at you. His eyes were filled with love and lust, and he gazed at you with such intensity, it made your heart skip a beat.

You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. He always made you feel so safe, and protected. It was a feeling you never wanted to lose.

"Daemon," you whispered.

"Kessa {Yes}?"

"Sagon gentle lēda nyke {Be gentle with me}"

He smiled, his hand running along the side of your face. "Always," he replied, his voice soft.

You held onto him tightly, your fingers digging into his skin. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and slowly entered you. Your body tensed, and a soft whimper escaped from your lips.

"I-it's okay," you breathed, trying to reassure him.

Daemon nodded, his hips rolling, easing himself further inside of you. The pain was soon replaced with pleasure, and your muscles relaxed. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you.

He moaned, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed. His hips began to move, setting a slow, gentle rhythm, holding you close.

His lips found yours once more, and he kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growled, and his pace increased, his thrusts becoming harder and faster.

Your eyes met his, his expression full of desire, and something else, something more. He held your gaze, his fingers intertwined with yours, pinning your hands next to your head. You felt yourself getting close, the pressure building within you, then your whole body tensed as you reached your peak.

Your hips rose to meet his, meeting his every movement and your name tumbled from his lips, a broken moan leaving him. His grip tightened, his head falling forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He let out a low groan, his hips bucking, his body shuddering, and you felt him fill you with his seed.

His thrusts slowed, and he pulled out of you, panting heavily. He collapsed next to you and you rolled onto your side, snuggling into his chest, a lazy smile spreading across your face.

You sighed happily, basking in the afterglow, and the warmth of his body. His arm wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you closer, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Viserys will kill us if he finds out," Daemon murmured, his voice muffled by your hair.

"Let him," you giggled.

He chuckled, and his arm tightened around you, holding you close. "I'm serious," he replied, his tone softening. "He'll have both our heads."

You shrugged, nuzzling his neck. "Then we better marry before he does."

Daemon laughed, his chest rumbling against yours. "I guess I have no choice, do I?"

"No," you replied, looking up at him. "Not really," you teased.

He smiled, and placed a kiss on your nose. "Alright, then," he whispered.

You kissed him deeply, and pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. The thought of being his wife filled you with excitement. You had never loved anyone as much as you loved Daemon. You would never have to seek out adventure, or trouble. You had everything you needed right here.

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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year ago

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Yan!Farm-boy x Reader

'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.

(AN: Had fun with this one!)

Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.

Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.

Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.

Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.

"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.

"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.

Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.

As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.

"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.

"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.

"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.

"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.

You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.

"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.

"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.

"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.

At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .

"That's why I've got so many siblings."

#reader insert #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #x reader #yandere #yandere content #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere farmer #tw.religion #tw.breeding #tw.noncon #oc Joey #yandere farmboy

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bunjywunjy · 2 years ago

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Are bears just.... undomesticatable

My friend and I were talking about it today, how humans will pet anything and domesticate anything even remotely friend shaped...so what happened with bears?

I mean we tamed wolves and big cats (domesticated themselves but ya know) oxen, deer and birds, wild boar....why never did we make tiny lovable bears?

well, the shortest answer to that is that domestication isn't really something we did TO animals, it's a process that happens over time that requires work from both ends! it's a two-way-street, so to speak.

see, for domestication to really work, the domesticated species has to actually need something from humans that they then get when they enter a partnership with us.

for dogs? companionship, food, shelter, safety of the group, and assistance with child rearing and territory defense.

for cats? access to a steady food supply, shelter and safe places to rear their young, companionship.

for horses? protection, safety and shelter, healing of injuries and illnesses, and a constant sense of reassurance.

for livestock animals like cows, pigs, and goats? guaranteed safety, healing of injuries and illnesses, assurance of producing young in a safe place, and an eventual swift mostly-painless death free of the agonies of the wilder food chain.

but bears?

bears don't want anything from us. bears don't NEED anything from us. they'll eat our trash, but they're just as happy pulling salmon out of a river somewhere.

they don't have any use for human protection or shelter. they'll eat you if they think it's a valid option on the table. (pun intended)

so no, no matter how much you might like a domesticated grizzly to cuddle up to on cold nights, they're just not interested and so it will never happen.

and that's okay! there are some animals that we just don't have anything to offer to, and it's good to acknowledge that.

bears belong in the wild.

#cursed biology

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pumpkin-writes · 23 days ago

Text

— ୨୧ yeah, yeah, fuck you too

pairing: rafe cameron x pouge!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, toxic!established enemies with benefits relationship, toxic!rafe, drug use, oral ( m receiving ) use of petnames ( baby, princess, babygirl ) filthy dirty talking, hair pulling, face fucking, deep throating, gagging, crying but like happy crying, cumshot, rafe is a huge asshole but it's okay bc his dick big

word count: 2.1 k

notes: this was heavily inspired by this moodboard i made. this sat in my drafts foreverrr & i wanted to just get rid of it so i didn't proofread it but i hope y'all can forgive me & enjoy this non-kinktober fic <3

"what are you doing here?" you hissed, standing in the frame of your front door, eyes narrowing at the blonde boy before you. rafe cameron stood out like a sore thumb in the neighborhood you lived in. the king of the kooks had to admit he didn't like slumming it out here on the cut during the day either, but here he was, knocking at your door with urgency. he was having a shit day and all he wanted was you. he needed you.

in the recent past, you'd been no stranger to sneaking him in and out of your house, falling into temptation once or twice or three or four times. but you told yourself you were done, if your friends caught wind of something going on between the two of you, you would never be able to come back from it. and you told rafe you were done, too, but he apparently didn't care. "come on, don't be like that. let me in." you couldn't tell if he was demanding it or begging you, but as you tried to shut the door in his face, he stuck his crisp white sneaker in the doorway to stop you. you were alone, and you did have fun with him, but that wasn't the point. your eyes darted around your front yard, hoping not to see anyone you knew hanging around. with a sigh, you decided to swing the door back in, inviting him in.

the sound of the door shutting behind you shot a feeling of excitement through you, knowing what was to come now that the two of you were alone. you knew rafe didn't come around here to play jenga with you. you turned to see him planted down on your couch, pulling a plastic baggie from his pants pocket and quickly fumbling with it to get at it's insides. everything inside of you was screaming that this was wrong, that you had to tell him to leave. when you promised yourself to stop sleeping with the prince of figure eight, you also promised yourself you'd stop snorting whatever he brought along with him. all you needed was to prove to all those kooks that you were just some drug addict from the cut. you may have liked smoking a joint every now and again with jj but that had to be it. "what're you staring at? you want some or not?" he didn't even seem to talk to you with respect, you couldn't believe he had the nerve to come down here and knock at your door, and it was even worse that you let him in.

but, all of your high-horse bullshit aside, you were quick to fall back onto the couch by his side as he broke up the few grams of coke on one of your dad's old motorcycle magazines sitting on the coffee table with his american express card. you pulled your hair up into a messy ponytail, and rafe couldn't help the cocky smirk that sprawled across his face as he noticed. "'atta girl," he handed you the fifty dollar bill he'd had tightly rolled up into a straw, that you certainly intended to slip into your pocket before he left. the two of you went line for line until there was nothing but a fine residue left. you hated how good it made you feel, and how much it made you want him. but damn, you loved it too, or else you wouldn't be here. you sunk back onto the old couch cushions for a moment, turning to see rafe looking back at you. no one would ever understand what drew the two of you to one another, not even you did, but it didn't ever really matter in moments like this. maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was because you were sexually frustrated and didn't click with the other guys you tried to hook up with.

the feeling of rafe's hand on your thigh pulled you from your sea of thoughts and sent a shiver up your back. now all you could look at were his lips, and not another second passed before he was pressing them against yours. you climbed into his lap, straddling him as the two of you got lost in each other's mouths. his hands explored your body, so warm and making you melt the more they traveled. just this feeling of making out with you made something inside of him roar, and he was finally starting to not regret coming down here and knocking at your door. with each kiss, your hips grinded at his, and you could feel him growing harder and harder in between your legs as you did. your kisses got sloppier and rafe got more impatient, parting from your lips to pull your shirt up over your head. seeing as you were home alone, getting ready to lay in bed with some netflix, you were braless, and the sight incited a primal groan from him. "fuckk," it was almost a whine, and you had to admit you liked that you could get that reaction from him so easily. at this point, he was throbbing in his jeans, and he couldn't wait any longer.

in a few swift motions, your shorts and panties were off and you sat there naked as rafe rushed to get his belt and pants off, letting his cock spring from his briefs. you practically drooled at the sight, and neither of you could wait another second. reaching for your ponytail, his hand wrapped around the base of your hair and pulled you down to his favorite sight. "come 'ere baby, suck my dick like i know you like." he was so cocky and you couldn't stand how much it turned you on. like clockwork, you began bobbing up and down at his shaft, his hand still wrapped up in your hair to keep you focused. your hand followed in rhythm as you stroked him, saliva just flowing from you and making an absolute mess that you knew would leave a stain when you were done. going down on guys wasn't something you could always say you enjoyed, but for whatever reason, you liked doing it for rafe. maybe it was the way he encouraged you, but it was how you liked to start every hook up with him by now. "fuck, yes, just like that," rafe growled through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening in your hair as you took him deeper. his cock twitched in your mouth, already leaking pre-cum from the familiar pleasure of your mouth. he loved watching you work, your cheeks hollowing with each bob of your head, your hand pumping him in time. it was a filthy, beautiful sight. his free hand reached down to roughly palm your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipple. "fuckin' love these tits," he snarled, giving the sensitive bud a hard twist. "gonna mark 'em up later, make sure everyone knows who you belong to." the possessive words sent a jolt straight to your core, mixing with the taste of him on your tongue. you could feel yourself getting more and more pathetic under his touch, and you could feel your panties starting to soak from the excitement of having rafe's dick in your mouth. you hated the hold he had on you, but it always felt too good to not keep this little affair going. a muffled moan escaped your lips at his words, sending vibrations down his shaft that he almost immediately responded to.

"mhm, that's it, you dirty slut," the blonde kook grunted, his hips bucking slightly as he fought the urge to thrust deep into your throat. he wanted to see how far he could push you, how depraved he could make you before you begged for mercy. he yanked your head back, pulling you off his cock with a wet pop. "get on your knees, now," he commanded, his voice low and rough with lust. "i'm gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours till you're choking on my cum." without waiting for a response, he grabbed your shoulders and forced you down, positioning himself in front of your face once more. "open wide, princess," he sneered, his eyes darkening with desire as he aimed his thick erection at your parted lips. "take it all like a good little cocksucker." you felt a shiver run down your spine as he manhandled you, forcing you onto your knees. despite your initial reluctance, your body seemed to have a mind of its own, craving the dominance he exuded. you opened your mouth obediently, letting out a soft whimper as he pressed the tip of his cock against your tongue. "oh my god," you managed to mumble around his girth, feeling him start to push into your mouth again. you knew you were playing with fire, submitting so willingly to this toxic asshole, but the thrill of it all was intoxicating. as he began to fuck your face, you relaxed your throat, taking him deeper with each powerful thrust. saliva dripped down your chin as you struggled to breathe around his invading length, but you didn't dare pull away, not even when tears began swelling in your eyes.

rafe groaned loudly as he bottomed out in your throat, "fuck baby," he panted, his grip on your hair tightening painfully as he started to piston in and out of your mouth with reckless abandon. your tears only spurred him on, the salty taste mingling with the slickness of your saliva coating his throbbing cock. he reveled in the knowledge that he was breaking you, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck-toy. "look at me while i ruin your throat, babygirl," he demanded, his icy blue eyes blazing with sadistic triumph as he held your gaze. "show me how desperate you are for me." as if in a trance, you met his gaze, your own eyes watering and glassy with pain and submission. your hands instinctively came up to grasp his thighs, urging him deeper, needing more of him even as your body screamed for respite. you couldn't help the whimpers that escaped you as he continued to fuck your face mercilessly, each thrust hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around him, only driving him closer to his release. you could practically hear the sound of your bones rattling as he pulled your hair harshly, the pain only serving to heighten your arousal. rafe's pace never faltered, his hips snapping forward with raw power as he claimed your mouth. with a particularly fierce plunge, he hit the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex as he rode you hard. you struggled to breathe, your eyes watering, but the thrill of being used so thoroughly sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. as he neared climax, he pulled out, aiming his cock at your chest and painting the peaks of your breasts with ribbons of hot, sticky semen. "lick it clean, baby." he ordered, his tone laced with satisfaction as he watched you eagerly comply.

once he caught his breath again, rafe tucked himself away and stood, offering you a hand up. "i knew you'd make me feel better," he praised, his expression softening for a moment before he gathered his things— his phone, wallet, drugs and everything else that somehow got scrambled around your little living room in the short amount of time he'd been there. "wh- you're leaving? that was it?" you took a moment to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked down at the mess he'd made of you. a part of you wanted to be angry, to lash out at him for treating you like nothing more than a disposable toy. but another part of you blamed yourself. what did you expect? you snatched your shirt off the couch and pulled it over yourself again, suddenly not so keen on letting him see you naked. "uh, yeah, got other plans." he scoffed, not hesitating to reach for the knob of your front door. you felt your bottom lip start to quiver, and you quickly bit it to stop yourself from giving him the satisfaction of watching you cry over him. your eyes fell from his, seeing the television remote there in front of you on the table, not thinking as you grabbed it and chucked it across the room at him, just barely missing his face. "fuck you, cameron!" you shouted, and rafe's face contorted into an equally as angry expression. "yeah, yeah, fuck you too." he swung the door open, calling back to you from your front lawn. you watched as he didn't waste any time getting into his car, pulling off of your property just as quickly as he'd pulled in.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #pumpkin writes ୨୧

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flamingpudding · 6 months ago

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All right you got my creative juices running with part five of Klarion is Dan yes the first series I ever came to you with

To find him Klarion isn't the only one living in the DC dimension in like the word of protective mother Danny is he sent one of clarion's older siblings to go with him Larsal/Lassie

She was one of the clone children that was created long before Danny knew that was trying to clone him she was one of the first failures

She doesn't really have a physical form as much she is more of like a big pit of water that has like a spiritual like form like Dr Fate

She hates Vlad so much that the entire League of assassins who's also hit him even though they don't know who he is but know that Danny got from Clockwork was about her and visiting

Klarion knows about the quote as the same thing last knows about him being a villain they keep each other secrets cuz they know they make Mom disappointed

When they do have somewhat of a physical form it's a cowgirl with a horse made entirely of Lazarus Pits

Along with that Vlad making surprise visit after feeling someone's littering his name more than usual it's like a call about anytime he knows his children or Daniel is talking about him

Also Batman's freaking out after I think that one of Danny's kids is such a little hater that they made a cult just despite their father which makes the Justice League think Vlad really that bad

This is just the funny idea and I know it's not a good prompt I'm still trying to think of more sorry

Oh I love this! Thanks you!

This is going to be fun in a way I hope! Enjoy~

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Danny barely avoided getting questioned further about his relation to Vlad when he noticed the green post-it note and made a grab for it. "Oh would you look at that! Pop is sending us a message!"

Okay maybe he said that louder than necessary but he needed to change the topic. He didn't need more people on to torment the fruitloop. His own kids were already giving the man enough grief as it was. He didn't need distant cousins or an entire hero society of another dimension coming after the fruitloop too. Not that he would mind that much but some mercy towards the redeemed man would probably be appropriated.

Either way Danny focused his attention on the note only half heartedly listening as Klarion continued his family tree explanation to his little hero friends. He blinked at the note several times before laughing happily. "Would you look at that! Lassie is going to come by! Your Granpa Clock is giving us a heads up, so I can prepare a fresh batch of ectoplasm for her to stay healthy!"

Whatever Klarion was explaining right now was abandoned as he sat up straight. "Lassie is coming too?"

"Well of course she is." Danny hummed happily, thankful for the chance of seeing both his kids that liked to life in the same dimension.

"Lassie?" Red Robin piped up questioning. Oh looks like this is one of Klarions siblings they hadn't gotten to yet regarding explanations.

"Yes my fourth oldest but unofficial second oldest." Danny nodded with a proud mother smile on his face. "She lives in this dimension too to keep an eye on Klarion so he would stay safe and dosen't over do it."

Klarion on the other hand groaned. "I don't need Lassie to baby sit me!"

"Klarion, sweety you were new to the whole living alone in another dimension thing. You spent the longest in FarFrozen and the Ghost Zone with me because of your destabilisation." Danny reprimanded him softly and the teen heroes snickered behind Klarions back to which the witch boy turned to glare at them with a greenish blush across his cheeks.

"So what does that sister of yours look like?" Impulse asked to change the topic and because he took a bit of pity on Klarion for the way his Mom was apparently embarrassing the witch boy. His question resulted in Klarion flipping though the photo album before stopping at an image of Klarion next to a pit of green something. Impulse arched an eyebrow and was about to comment when he got pushed roughly to the side by Red Robin.

"THAT'S A LAZARUS PIT!"

The way Batman's chair clattered to the ground as the man stood up looked every bit like he was going to rush over to the teens spoke for the shock that Red Robin shout had caused. The Ghost King and Klarion on the other hand looked rather calm as they barely reacted to the shout and Danny even motioned to Batman to sit back down again, as the chair that fell rightened itself again.

"Calm down. Lassie is a good child. She wouldn't hurt a fly." Danny told them smiling, not realising that both Batman and Red Robin were giving him increadulous looks behind their mask.

"A.... good child?" Batman repeated his slowly his voice even more tinged with his usual gruff gravel in a way that both Superman and Wonder Woman side eyed him worried while Flash snacked on a pack of melon flavoured ships he snacked from a table.

"She doesn't have a physical body, that is why she is relying on the pits of natural ectoplasm your dimension has. There was a little problem with her physical form and we just couldn't restore it and she refuses to get a unoccupied clone body like Klarion has." Danny explained further not minding the stares he or Klarion were getting.

"Pits of natural ectoplasm?" Batman reiterated, his tone clearly questioning, to which Danny only blinked a couple of times surprised. "I thought your dimension knew what they were? Sure the way you guys use them is strange and Lassie did sound a bit concerned when she told me about it but I didn't think you guys weren't aware what they were."

"No that is not...." Red Robin started but then but himself of as he turned around hurriedly in a defensive position as he noticed someone coming in through the window. He wasn't the only one. All the heroes reacted as one at the new presence, however what they didn't expect was a member of the League of Assassins blinking up at them stunned after climbing in through the window lifting their hands palm up in a gesture of peace.

"Woah hey there calm down! Klarion what the fuck? Why are there so many heroes in your Apartment?" The LoA member spoke up and all eyes turned to Klarion who instead only deadpanned. "I told you Mom was visiting to meet my 'friends'"

"Lassie, what did I tell you about possessing bodies?" The Ghost King piped up in a disapproving tone and they heard the distinctive tone of someone knocking their head against the table, probably Constantine.

"Sorry Mom but there are not Pits of ectoplasm near baby brother I could use to form a body." The LoA member, apparently possessed by Klarion's elder sister replied sheepishly. To say Red Robin was weirded out was an understatement. Usually if he encountered LoA members they were aggressive and most likely there to take him or one of his siblings out.

"That's an League of Assasin member...." He muttered under his breath to which said member laughed. "This guy was the closest to me to use for the moment. Don't worry I will release him later and he won't even remember a thing. I got my little sheep's well trained."

"Little sheep's?" Wonder Girl repeated a hand on her hip as she stared sceptically, to which Klarion face palmed and muttered a low "Sis shut up...."

"No Lassie, don't shut up." Danny intone from the kitchen table he was still sitting at with the other adults, his head was now resting on his hand as he stared at his two kids who visibly flinched.

The LoA member, possessed by Klarions sister, scratched the back of is head nervously as they faced the Ghost King. "Ah Mom, uhm hehe you know funny story..."

The heroes were pretty sure that the room had gotten several degrees colder and they weren't sure if that was because of the mood of a parent about to interrogate their child or because of the Ghost Kings power. (At a later time Constantine swore it were the Ghost Kings powers.) There was a awkward moment of silence the heroes weren't sure if they should be present for that or not especially when Danny stood up and walked over to the teens.

On reflex Wonder Girl, Superboy, Impulse and Red Robin made room for Danny to walk past them as they watched on torn between curiosity and pity, because clearly Klarion and his sister Lassie must have done something they weren't supposed to do. And honestly they were more curious what they did, after all the Ghost King hadn't been that faced when it got revealed that Klarion was more of a Villain than a Hero to them.

"Lassie, what did you do?" The teen heroes couldn't see Danny's face but from the tone they had a feeling that Danny was arching an eyebrow at his children.

Lassie laughed awkwardly once more. "So... you know how grandma Pandora kind of thought us about how our own emotion can influence those around us exposed to our ectoplasm over a long period of time?"

"Lassie..."

"I might have raised something akin to a cult on accident and passed on my personal grudge and hate towards the fruitloop along to them and they might now have the subconscious drill of attack on sight if Vlad ever makes an appearance in this dimension...." The LoA member slowly spoke up which had several of the adult heroes blinking in disbelief.

Batman especially was in shock of hearing about this since had the most interaction with this 'cult' as apparently one of the Ghost Kings children liked to call the League of Assassins. The bat suit wearing hero was about to interject and ask more but stopped when the Ghost King let out a suffering sigh like the most tired parent in existence. "And you didn't think about telling me this sooner because?"

"We don't like to disappoint you Mom." The two children of the Ghost King replied simultaneously like one united front. Danny in response gave his kids a light chuckle. But before Danny could go on any further Red Robin decided it was probably a good time to interject and remind the Ghost King of their presence.

"I got a question if you don't mind..." He lifted his hand like he was in school as he pulled the attention towards him. His curiosity won over his caution of the situation. "Klarion if the Lazarus Pits are actually 'ectoplasm' as you mentioned before, and are largely influenced by your sisters emotion. What happens to guy that bath regularly in them or someone that got thrown in there and game back out rage filled?"

"Red Robin!" Batman call out reprimanding instantly knowing where Red Robins line of question was going.

The possessed LoA member on the other hand blinked at them before scratching their head sheepishly. "I think I know who your talking about. I am still sorry about that second guy. When he got dunked into my ectoplasm, I kinda just came back from a visit home and had a bad fight with Vlad and was especially rage filled towards him."

"So does that mean...?" Red Robin inquired further ignoring Batman's silent glare towards him for even bringing these questions up and just as Lassie was about to answer Danny interjected.

"Lassie, go fix your cult." Another green note at materialised out of nowhere and had fluttered in the air before him and caused the Ghost King to face palm the moment he read it's context.

"Mom?" Both Klarion and Lassie asked with a shared worried glance.

"Vlad has come into the dimension for some reasons and is currently getting chased down by your cult."

There was a stunned silence after which Klarion and Lassie, in the body of the LoA member, broke out laughing hysterically which only caused Danny to lightly glare at his children. Meanwhile the teen heroes weren't sure if they should feel sorry for the old man called Vlad but considering all the red flags they had picked up from what Klarion told them, they felt a little like the man deserved that.

The adults on the other hand felt slightly torn, well mostly Batman. It was clear that this Vlad was a bigger threat than both Klarion and the Ghost King were making him out to be, considering the entire existence of the Lazarus Pits hated that man. But on the other hand as heroes they probably should feel obligated to help the man especially if, according to the Ghost Kings words, he was currently gotten chased in their dimension by the League of Assassins.

Danny on the other hand never felt more like a tired mother than he did right now. Sure he knew about his unofficial second oldest hatred towards Vlad but this certainly was a new level of hate. Especially since she apparently 'accidentally' (he doesn't by that at all) raised an entire cult that subconsciously hated him too.

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astonmartinii · 1 year ago

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i don't wanna be funny anymore | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem podcaster!reader

i don't wanna be funny anymore, i got a too short skirt, maybe i can be the cute one. is there room in the band? i don't need to be the front man, if not then i'll be the biggest fan

based on i don't wanna be funny anymore by lucy dacus (this song speaks to me, i love lucy (she's also AMAZING live))

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 341,203 others

yourusername: hey girl hey, new ep coming at you fast this friday all about rotting. as the twilight weather rolls in and it becomes the season of all too well, we'll talk about rotting, how we can do it right and how not to lose your mind this october (a cautionary tale, i've already lost mine)

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user1: my queen hands down five stars already

user2: the bag is so real and the way i know it's a tote that does NOT stay on your shoulder

yourusername: it's the enchante tote, shameless plug for my man

danielricciardo: you singlehandedly sell out my totes every time baby

user3: not this actual fan erasure 🤨

user4: babe be real, she has a massive platform and there was a direct correlation between the first time she plugged a tote and the fact that they sold out that day you guys just love being mean

user5: i'm mean cause i don't want some leech taking credit for dan's hardwork and his fans?

user6: he fucking said it? you guys grasp at straws every time so try and justify your agenda against her

maxverstappen1: idk what rotting is but i'll still listen to every second

yourusername: thanks maxy, though i'd say going on the sim for up to 14 hours of the day is bordering on rotting

maxverstappen1: productive rotting !

yourusername: yes, i guess your sweet little treats are trophies?

maxverstappen1: that would make sense (don't tell my trainer but i do enjoy the little fruity drinks from starbucks)

user7: yall wanna say we're mean but she's literally invalidating max, saying he's rotting on the sim is so invalidating to everything he went through when he was younger

user8: how did we get there? this grasp on straws has to be studied... from a joke about the sim to invalidating abuse?

user9: i honestly thank the lord for dan and max because they're so supportive no matter the shitstorm that yall throw at y/n everyday

user10: literally max is even listening to podcasts... real friends, i hope one day she feels confident enough to come to races

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen, georgerussell63 and 1,034,239 others

tagged: yourusername, enchante

danielricciardo: buckle up, enchante is going to the rodeo 🐎

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user13: i shall be breaking the bank

user14: dan so smart, he looks like a good boyf for including y/n but didn't include her face

user15: yall ever listen to yourself talk, you need to be put in time out for real

yourusername: we all know the phrase, save a horse, ride a...

danielricciardo: daniel?

yourusername: YUP

user16: ugh there are children who are fans of daniel, she's so gross

user17: do you ever get tired of doing all of that mental gymnastics?

yourusername: can't wait for the tote drop for this collection, yall WON'T be disappointed

user18: yes, i will always trust mother's tote recommendations

user19: anyone who carries that much shit knows what makes a good tote

yourusername: this one has survived two dostoevsky book, an unreasonably large water bottle, a laptop and microphone

user19: thank you ma'am

maxverstappen1: real love is dressing as a cowgirl for your needy boyfriend

yourusername: the things we do for love (i actually had so much fun)

user20: here y/n goes doing all the publicity, but never going to races, clearest gold digger attention whore wag of all time

user21: surely a real attention whore would go to every race to get the screen time and papped and all that jazz?

excerpt of y/n y/ln's podcast where she addresses her absences in the paddock.

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 412,349 others

yourusername: life recently lol, the enchante tote is taking a beating

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user24: she's such a crybaby making dan use up an entire portion of his interview to coddle her

user25: she doesn't come to races cause of people like you invading her privacy and being rude and here you are ... proving her point

danielricciardo: pretty lady i can't wait to be back in your arms

yourusername: waiting outside the airport now

danielricciardo: we haven't even taken off yet babe

yourusername: i know i just miss you and can't wait to see your handsome face

user26: dan must be saying this shit at gun point cause there's no way he actually thinks she's pretty

user27: are you clinically blind? cause we must not be seeing the same girl

maxverstappen1: the aperol rawdogging the bag, you are SO brave

yourusername: living life on the edge, is this that thrill all you drivers talk about?

maxverstappen1: i may drive at over 200 kmh but i'd never risk my tote like that

yourusername: is it worse that i have a jar of olives in there as well, one drop and it's so over for me

maxverstappen1: OLIVES? remind me NOT to hug you when you pick us up

danielricciardo: if you want that hug you gonna have to get in line boy

user28: she picks them up from the airport? that's so cute

user29: someone tell her the gross girl aesthetic isn't cute

user30: babe don't worry no matter the aesthetic you have daniel will never want you x

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 982,344 others

tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo

maxverstappen1: finally went on my bff's (no 1 in the world) podcast after i finally convinced her yall ain't shit - oh and dan was there for emotional support x

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user31: SO ICONIC

user32: ep on repeat forever, they're so funny

yourusername: for a man who hates podcasts, you were a star i think the memes hit you hard

maxverstappen1: i enjoy the PROFESSIONALS could you imagine doing a podcast with lando

landonorris: why am i catching strays

danielricciardo: i wouldn't say that too loud, i got about 20 texts as soon as you posted this demanding i ask y/n to be on the show

yourusername: oooooooooo the girls are fighting

landonorris: so can i come on?

yourusername: i'm sure we can schedule something

maxverstappen1: don't say i didn't warn you y/n

user33: ugh now she's going to whore around the rest of the grid

user34: for real wasn't dan enough? she's not even pretty enough to whore herself out

user35: you people have no reading comprehension cause you see how dan says yall are insane and yall keep proving him right

danielricciardo: i'm so proud of you pretty girl

yourusername: i love you cowboy

danielricciardo: forever obsessed with you

user36: i'm living for y/n basically telling all these insecure weirdos to fuck off

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 603,451 others

tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: who was gonna tell me these cars are loud as shit irl

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user39: someone tell sky to stop zooming in on her i don't pay to her her ugly ass

user40: cry your heart out bro everyone else is happy

danielricciardo: oops i think you're my lucky charm you now have to come to every race ever sorry not sorry

yourusername: gosh i think that might be true - i'll be there! (but for real you are so so talented and don't need a lucky charm)

danielricciardo: i'm just so happy to share this with you, i love you so much, i'm sorry people have been so cruel

yourusername: people are passionate about you and rightly so, but i appreciate you protecting me baby

user41: imagine being this irrelevant and demanding protection in the paddock ... the audacity

user42: you finally came to the paddock and this is what you wore?

user43: she's wearing danny merch? if she didn't yall would have a problem with that as well so please just be quiet

maxverstappen1: i need you to come every weekend cause you're the only one drunk danny will listen to

yourusername: we had practice with all the wine tasting we did for his wine line

danielricciardo: i am NOT that bad

maxverstappen1: tbf it's usually him just crying about how much he loves you

yourusername: AWWWWWW (i also cry about how much i love you)

user44: gosh this is my favourite f1 couple

user45: hopefully now she has her dose of fame she'll fuck off

user46: HAVE A DAY OFF

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,451,677 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: as we're nearing our two year anniversary i wanted to say a couple things. one. i love you so much. when you came into my life i was in a bad place and you truly taught me to love myself again and how to love my sport again. you're the most amazing woman ever, the kindest soul and the most beautiful girl ever. two. i am so thankful for the support i have, i do not allow the disrespect some have given y/n. you guys have no real perception of relationships between athletes and fans. you do not have the right to comment on y/n in the way you are. you take extremely low blow and have the gall to confront her in public as well. do not call yourself a fan of mine when you treat the people i love like this. my team will now begin to monitor comment sections and will seek to block and report accounts doing this. thank you and i love you y/n.

comments on this post are turned off.

note: hope yall enjoyed!! i love danny and i saw the danny ric honky tonk this morning and had to write about him. i'd also had this idea for a while but didn't know who to write for lol. please listen to the song i love lucy so much and the song is so relatable xx

also anyone who has requested - i am working on them (but as per some questions in my asks, as for right now i do not write for footballers, if i become less disillusioned with the sport (thanks chelsea) this may change)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #astonmartinii

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pookieace · 5 months ago

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you belong with me

✰ . . . bridgerton au, gojo is meant to be a viscount, fem!reader / fem!pronouns used, secret relationship kinda???, mention of arranged marriage, secret meetings (no cheating though) fluff & smut, fingering, ooc gojo idk he’s lovesick and shit, kinda olden day language that i don't think is 100% correct but idc the brainrot is too strong at this point for me to care therefore you shouldn't either <3

✰ . . . 2.5k words i don't know how we got here

✰ . . . i uhhhh binge watched bridgerton in less than a week and i am having the most scandalous thoughts and scenarios about it.. like i am vibrating at the speed of light waiting for the second part to drop tonight LMFAO this is just pure word vomit and brainrot and it's probably shit because i don't remember the last time i sat and wrote smth this long... but oh well !!! i also SUCK at titles thanks taylor swift for having this song

Satoru Gojo loves a good thrill. The thrill of betting his money on horse races or boxing matches. The thrill of playing pranks on the maids or the cooks. The thrill of having all eyes on him as he walks into a room. He knows everyone will stare considering his wealth and the status of his family but it still feels good, feeds his ego. His favourite thrill however? The one where he meets with you in secret. Just thinking about sneaking away from the public eye, trying to find a quiet place where you two could have time alone, where you could kiss and touch each other, sent goosebumps all over his body. It excited him.

You're not sure why you let him coax you into it though. As a lady, you should be prim and proper, present at the balls or social gatherings. You're meant to be talking to your friends or making conversation with respectable suitable gentlemen, or in the midst of getting courted. Perhaps it is because Gojo Satoru is a breath of fresh air in such a repetitive lifestyle that you keep sneaking off in the middle of the gatherings to see him, and it's certainly no different tonight.

In the middle of the ball, you see Satoru’s tall figure slip past a group of people and off into the shadows. To avoid being seen as suspicious, you need to wait a few moments before you too find yourself following after him. The minutes of waiting around feel like hours however, your feet are itching to just walk off and run to him, but you can't. It would be seen as outrageous for a lady to be seen with any man alone, it would cause an uproar within the community, spreading amongst the partygoers and even the ones who didn’t come within a matter of hours.

Then finally, after what feels like eons, you excuse yourself from the people you were chatting with. You're glad the ladies you were with are attempting to woo the gentlemen that had approached the group by fluttering their hand fans and blinking excessively. Quietly, you make your way towards the corridors. The females are too busy trying to gossip and the men are trying to prove their wealth or talk about their mistresses which makes slipping away into the shadows easier.

You are quite lucky that it was your family who was responsible for today's ball. It made it easy to find a secluded place where you and Satoru could meet without having to worry about a member of the ton or one of your maids accidentally finding the two of you alone, god forbid that from happening. You hold your dress up so you don't trip over it, walking briskly to one of your many gardens at the back of your family's estate. It is dark outside and the air is now chilly, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you slow down and try to squint in the darkness, attempting to spot your favourite white haired male.

"Oh? What do we have here? A rather fine young lady, all alone. With no one around... but me." You'd recognise that teasing voice anywhere and you're immediately spinning around to face him with a smile on your face.

"Lord Gojo." A pout on his face grows almost immediately as you bend at your knees to bow at him, a gesture of respect that has been conditioned into your very being since you were a little girl.

"I thought I told you to call me–"

"Just Satoru, yes. I am well aware of that." The use of his first name has him smiling almost as quickly as he had pouted, and in only a couple of steps he is directly in front of you, chest in your line of sight. You have to tilt your head upwards to get a good look at his handsome face.

"I have to say, I rather enjoy the way my name falls from your lips." He's not slick with his eye movements, tongue darting over to lick at his plump pink lips while his eyes glance at your mouth and back to hold your gaze again. "You make it sound... Pretty."

"Well, it is a pretty name for a pretty boy. Your mother did well at picking it."

"Darling, as much as I adore my own mother, I did not ask you to meet with me so I could listen to you praise her."

"Oh Satoru!" You have to cover your mouth so you don't laugh out loud and garner unwanted attention. "Are you jealous of your mother?"

"I am not!" He hushes you, thankful that you are meeting in darkness and the only light is from the moon so you don't see the blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. "Not of her at least."

You are about to open your mouth to ask what he means but he beats you to it. "Lord Basset was rather close to you... Was he not?"

"He spoke to me for a mere two minutes, if that, Satoru. Besides, all he asked was how my family was doing, nothing more."

"Two minutes too many if you ask me." There is a slight growl in his voice as he mumbles unhappily, large hands pulling you close to his frame by your hips.

"Perhaps you need to start courting me in public."

"Sweetheart." He sighs, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "The sooner my father realises I do not wish to marry the woman he has chosen for me, the better. It is torment trying to stay away from you in public. Mother is attempting to talk to him now, I think she may know I have someone else I would rather be courting."

You feel him furrow his eyebrows, scrunching them up as he speaks and thinks about the marriage his father is trying to get him to agree to. His father is a businessman, and the marriage, If Satoru agrees, would give them more wealth and more power – Something that the Gojo family already has ample amount of according to Satoru but it was not enough for his father.

"Toru," You begin, voice barely above a whisper. "I can wait for you. I will wait, do not worry about that."

"What did I do to deserve such an understanding woman like you?" Satoru exhales deeply, letting out a breath of air he did not realise he was holding all this time.

"For one, forcefully drag me to meet with you secretly."

"What a strange way to say I wooed you with my charms."

“What charms exactly?”

“Oh, you know. My pretty face, my sense of humour, how witty I am– oh! Lets not forget how tall I am.” You’re holding back a laugh as he lists off his so-called charms to you.

“Let us not forget how you were looking not so subtly at my hands when we first met either. Or my pants, not very ladylike of you, is it?”

“That is not my fau–”

“Oh so you are blaming me for your pervertedness?!” He gasps rather too loudly and you’re quick to cover his mouth with panic.

“Satoru! Please… Keep it down!” You’re whisper-yelling at him, heart pounding as you look around with fear.

He just hums against your hand over his mouth, rubbing your waist as he removes it and kisses the tips of your fingers gently. “You are afraid of being seen with me.”

“Unchaperoned, yes. You are well aware of how everyone will talk about a lady being seen alone with a man such as yourself.”

“Would it not be for the best if we were seen by someone though? Then, I would be forced to marry my little secret, and my father would be forced to give up on his ridiculous quest to marry me off.”

You can’t find yourself to talk back to him and put his crazy idea to rest because he did have a point, unfortunately.

“Sweetheart,” He began, peppering kisses on the tips of your fingers to your wrist, all the way to your inner arm and eventually leading his lips to your neck. “Please, let us be caught.”

“S–Satoru– We can’t… The public scrutiny, the ton–”

“Fuck what the ton has to say. I feel as if I am dying from not having you by my side. Do you know how bad I want to kiss you? How I want to promenade with you, to show you off to the men, to let everyone know you are mine and mine only just as how I belong only to you?”

Satoru’s hands wander to the curve of your ass as he speaks his heart out, large hands groping the flesh best he could over layers and layers of your clothes. You feel him breathing heavily against the skin of your neck, which is soon followed by him inhaling your scent with his eyes closed shut. Then, he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip which has him gulping as he waits for verbal consent.

“Satoru. Touch me.”

And he wastes no time in doing so, capturing your lips in a rather messy and sloppy kiss that you are sure will do nothing but mess up the expensive lipstain you are wearing.

You push him further into the shadows where you know not a soul will be able to see you two from the lack of light. He’s against the brick wall and he lets out a small grunt into the kiss but makes no effort to pull away from your mouth. Instead, he takes a hold of your waist and spins the two of you around so now you are hidden in the shadows. By chance, if someone was to see the both of you, your body would be hidden and you wouldn’t be exposed.

Satoru always kisses you with passion, as if there’s a fire burning inside of his body that only you can put out but something about this particular kiss feels far too different to any kiss you have shared before. It feels more urgent. More desperate, you can physically feel it with how hard his lips press against your own. How he grunts and groans into the kiss, how his hand is now cupping the nape of your neck to keep you in place while the other pulls your waist into his own crotch. It allows you to feel the hardness in his pants against your stomach and has you letting out your own set of whimpers.

Momentarily, he pulls back to allow you to breathe. “Let us be caught.”

“Do not try and convince me when you have made my head go dizzy with lack of air.”

“Perfect time, is it not? Come on sweetheart, do you not want to have all of me? To feel all of me?”

“You are a disgusting pervert.” There’s no bite behind it however. Not when your thigh is being wrapped around Satoru’s waist and you feel his hands inch further and further up your thighs.

“Yeah? Why don’t you say that again, you know I love it when you call me names.”

If you weren’t seconds from being fingered, maybe you would have hit his shoulder but you feel the pads of his fingers rub your mound over your undergarments before you could do so.

You’re sighing in pleasure as he continues to tease you over the fabrics but you grow impatient. It’s not as if you haven’t been in this very compromising position before, you’re well aware of how long the white haired male can tease you for, how much he loves it. But when you are in public, only a couple of hundred yards away from the partygoers on your own estate, it is not the time for hours upon hours of teasing, especially not against a brick wall.

“Toru, please. More…”

He pretends not to hear you, keeping a straight face as he keeps on holding your thigh up as the other hand continues to touch you but not really give you what you truely need.

“Toruuu, now is not the time to be a tease.”

“Oh? What’s that? I couldn’t quite hear you sweetheart. Would you mind speaking a little louder for me?”

“Satoru!”

“Y/N!”

Your head tilts back out of anger, hitting against the brick wall behind you with a gentle thud. You despise how he’s choosing to act with you right now.

“Say it.” He speaks, but it’s not using that annoying, teasing tone of his he usually gives you when you want him to touch you more. It’s serious. “Say you are mine.”

His eyes lock onto yours, keeping eye contact as he waits for your answer.

You do not keep him waiting, cupping the side of his face as you speak with sincerity. “I am yours, just as you are mine.”

Satoru feels his cock twitch in his trousers, wanting nothing more than to be balls deep in you right after you said that, but not yet. He can wait, he will wait for you to marry him before taking away your virginity. He’s a gentleman, albeit that gentlemanly honour is hanging by a mere thread when you speak about belonging to him with that pretty voice of yours.

But his fingers are quick to push your undergarments to the side and allow you to truly feel his touch in all its glory. Even in the darkness, he knows exactly where to touch, and he finds the little nub that makes you feel good with ease that it’s almost scary. He allows his fingertips to make circles on it, and you’re burying your face in the suit jacket he’s wearing to drown out your noises that you know will get louder and louder.

His digits have you so riled up and wet in a matter of minutes that his fingers are easily buried in your warmth with one swift move.

You always feel full, how could you not when he has such large hands and long fingers. “Feels— so good, ‘Toru.”

“I know sweetheart.”

“Much better than when I do it to myself…” You know he loves hearing words that boost his ego and god, did it make him feel things. It garners a low growl from him, and he’s pumping his fingers into you with such vigour you swear you two will be caught with just how loud the skin slapping and sloppy noises are.

It does not take long for you to reach your high, two digits in your pussy whilst one rubbed your clit and you’re cumming with shaky thighs and a soft cry of the man’s name, thankful that he’s holding the back of your head and pushing your face into his chest so you don’t accidentally moan out loud.

“Marry me.” He whispers, forehead resting against your own as you pant and come down from your orgasm.

“Get me a ring and I will say yes in a heartbeat and fight your father for your hand in marriage, Satoru.”

i also can’t write endings for shit rip me </3

#im going crazy anyways!!!!#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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hekateinhell · 1 year ago

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don't leave this in the tags kacy it's so important because I think so many people miss the real world context here and the fact that we don't actually exist in isolation

not to be discoursey but I just cannot stress enough that it wouldn't kill anybody to be mindful and kind and not dehumanize others in online spaces, and especially in fandom conversations, and especially especially in conversations about characters who do not exist.

Like there's a world of difference between "Character X is gross" and "Fans of Character X are gross" and there's no need to continually use language like this that only fuels drama.

It costs you nothing to be kind to people and it keeps fandoms so much safer. I've heard Brené Brown talk about this a few times and I super recommend this so we can all check ourselves and make sure we're still being kind.

Humiliation and dehumanizing are not accountability or social justice tools, they’re emotional off-loading at best, emotional self-indulgence at worst. And if our faith asks us to find the face of God in everyone we meet, that should include the politicians, media, and strangers on Twitter with whom we most violently disagree. When we desecrate their divinity, we desecrate our own, and we betray our humanity.

And like. IS FANDOM AS SERIOUS AS THE REAL WORLD OUTSIDE AND ACTUAL FORMS OF VIOLENCE AND OPPRESSION? Of course not.

But I don't think you can have it both ways. This is either your hobby that you spend hours of your day navigating, or it's not that serious. And your online friends are either the people that you have conversations with every day, or they're not. Just because it's a silly hobby doesn't make the time you spend here less real and doesn't mean you need to be shitting all over the carpet in your own house, yeah? There's already enough stigma from the outside world about your nerdy hobby being a stupid waste of time; you don't have to buy into that when you feel so passionate about the things you make, and read, and the friends you talk to every day.

Like, if you want to be that person, if you like starting drama, if you like hurting people's feelings, idk. That's a You Problem. And you need to work on that and it's not my business. That's such an extreme divorce from my values I'm not sure we have anything to gain from each other. But I'm not interested in harming you. I just want to feel like my hobby is a safe place.

Anyway, be nice to people please. 🫶

#and it's like what's there to gain?#when these dumbasses aren't yelling about marius they're cannibalizing each other over whether or not it's okay to stan lestat lmao #it's a zero sum game and ultimately everyone loses when this kind of behavior becomes condoned in fandom spaces #idk i don't really have a horse in this except i do because it DOES trickle into the real world it DOES my hurt friends #and it DOES make my fandom space gross and hostile and shitty when we're just here to have a good time and escape the outside world #feel however you want to about a character or ship and talk about it all you want (tho i personally prefer to talk about what i DO love)#but leave real people out of it and maybe realize... if you're participating in this behavior #that it means you are de facto giving the okay for someone else to turn around and do the same to you #and they will even if you think your preferences are more 'ethical' or 'moral' or whatever #you should know that bullies and trolls don't need an excuse to start shit :)#fandom wank

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hertenskylarks · 2 months ago

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More 2 Cents on S3

So, I know there’s already a lot of talk going around. Here’s my 2 cents.

In light of the recent news, I keep hearing a lot of “Oh, I hope the third season doesn’t get canceled,” and “Oh, I hope it does. Fuck Gaiman,” and “Oh, what about Terry’s vision? What about the fans? What about closure?”

I have absolutely zero control as to whether or not season 3 is made. Many arguments for and against it have already been made. I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I will offer this perspective from my own personal experience.

I’m a swing dancer, and my rapist was my teacher and one of the first people who ever taught me how to dance. One of the things that made me hesitant to come forward was that he was one of the most likable characters in my scene. He was the funny, goofy guy who wore funky printed shirts, he was sooo nice, he couldn’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

Seeing people praise him, hearing people talk about how great he is when I knew what he did to me… It drove me absolutely mad. I just wanted to shake people and say, “No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand who he is!” But I felt like I just couldn't. I felt his reputation was too iron-clad to say anything.

Coming forward was one of the scariest things I ever did because I was so sure people either wouldn't believe me or wouldn't care. And, as predicted, that was the case for some. You can only imagine how I felt when someone I used to call my friend went on to have him officiate her wedding. You can only imagine how I felt when the response from the organizers of the dance scene was to ask me to avoid mentioning Y-Town Swing in social media posts (Oops) to protect their reputation. You can only imagine how I felt when they continued to have him as a teacher, or when they updated their safe space policy to say they are not responsible for anything that happens “outside a Y-Town swing event.”

Oh, so if he raped me in the bathroom at the event instead it would have made a difference? Right, sorry, didn't realize the location or a rape mattered that much.

Anyway…

This was all in the confines of a small dance scene, in a small city, in a very niche hobby. Now, imagine how it must feel when your rapist and abuser is a fucking best selling author, praised as this ally to women and LGBT people, he’s the quirky guy who has a Tumblr and actually responds to his fans and he’s so cool, he’s one of us, he can’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

I can only imagine how fucking mad it drove his victims to know who he really is and see him put on such a high pedestal.

So, however this all unfolds, I will say this. The people I care about most are the victims. I say this as someone who loved and still loves Good Omens, I say this as someone who was torn up about the final 15, as someone who rejoiced when S3 was originally announced, before all the allegations came to light. I care about the victims.

But what about the fans? Listen, it’s a fucking TV show. Do you really mean to tell me the ending of a fictional fucking story is more important than the very real people he’s hurt? Not having an ending to your favorite show does not hold a candle to the trauma of being sexually assaulted. There’s no comparison. Not in the same ballpark. Not even in the same galaxy.

But what about Terry?

Terry is dead and in his grave. I am sorry to say this, but whether his vision comes to life or not, he will never be the wiser. It makes no difference to him. If I could wave my magic wand and have Terry alive and well and Gaiman dead and in his grave, believe me, I definitely would, but that is not the hand we were dealt.

So please, all I ask is this. Before you go spouting shit like, “I hope we don’t lose S3,” or “I just need to know how it ends,” put yourself in their shoes for just a second.

Imagine you are Claire, or Scarlett, or any of his other victims. Imagine you are sexually assaulted by someone whom the world just puts on a pedestal. You have to sit there and listen to him get praised as being “such a great ally to women and minorities” and “he’s one of us,” and “he’s so brilliant. He’s so cool. He really listens to his fans. Look at this quote of his I got tattooed on my body.” And for years you just sit there and take it, because you’re so fucking afraid that no one will believe you if you come forward, you’re told your story “isn’t enough,” you watch him get richer and richer while you’re stuck with the therapy bill for everyting this “great ally of women” did to you.

Now imagine that you finally come forward. You finally muster up the will to speak your truth, and tell people what he did to you, and you find that you’re not the only person he’s hurt. The world is finally hearing your story and learning what a manipulative monster he is.

And now, I want you to think very carefully about what it means if we still get S3.

S3 means press tours. It means more reviews praising him as a genius. It means certain people being contractually obligated to say nice things about him, or at the very least, not say negative things about him. It means, once again, seeing his fucking horse face or his name everywhere, on Amazon, on billboards, on busses, on posters, in adverts. Only now, it's AFTER the world heard your side of the story.

Just imagine how that would feel.

So, if it wasn't obvious by now, my stance on S3 is… I don't really want it to happen. Not out of spite or some deep seated hatred for Gaiman (although, ya know, fuck that guy) but out of consideration for the people he's hurt, as someone who knows exactly how it feels to see the person who hurt you get put on a pedestal.

I understand that production is paused and people think he may be getting removed from the project. I'm not going to comment on that because "paused” can mean a lot of things and there's so much we don't know yet.

There will be other shows.

There will be shows that DO have satisfying endings.

Media and shows can be replaced.

But there is no such thing as being un-raped.

#neil gaiman #cw sa #cw sa mention #cw rap3 #neil gaimen allegations

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darkbluekies · 9 months ago

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This is going to be interesting fr, like how much differently do your ocs treat the reader if they were childhood friends. I’m super excited! Also can’t wait to see Jerry again ❤️

Warnings: violence, murder, unstable home life, bullying

Silas:

Being Silas's childhood friend guarantees you a bodyguard. He doesn't let anyone get close to you. You don't ever have to worry about the fact that anyone will bully you, because Silas will obliviate them. He's the type to let you lean on his shoulder in class whenever you feel tired. He will ditch school with you and go to the zoo if you want to.

People around you will try to separate the two of you. “Silas isn't a good influence”, they say, and doesn't want his behavioral problems to rub off on you, or for you to get in danger. There are speculations that Silas is involved in criminal gangs — and if someone asks you, you won't deny it. But Silas won't let anyone take you from him, won't let anyone touch you. You always have his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, always claimed by him.

“I'm going to bash that kid's skull in, I'm not fucking joking. If they dare to to touch you — no — if he as much as breathe near you, I'll send them to the nurses office. Lean your head on me, Y/N, its okay. Does your hand still hurt? I cant believe that he fucking stepped on it. It doesn't matter if it was a mistake. I'll cut his off.”

Dr Kry:

There is something off about him, and everyone can see that. He sits back straight, hands together, and always in clean, ironed clothes. His hair is always brushed and fixed, he hates germs and people. And he hates it all, he really does. The only friend he has, is you. The only one he doesn't think is dirty, is you. You know that the reason he sits and talks like a robot is because of how strict his parents are. There has been multiple times where he has dirtied his clothes while playing with you, and has panicked. You help him clean them before going home, and when touching him you make sure to wipe your hands with a cloth — even if you know that he doesn't mind your germs. You know how he doesn't like to be touched, so you never hug him or linger on too long, which is just why Kry likes you so much.

You are the only one who knows about his author's dreams. His parents want him to become a doctor, or a lawyer, and you know he's interested in medicine, but he wants to be able to write. He wants to write sci-fi stories, and you are the only one that knows it.

You get teased by others for being with the “clean freak” but it doesn't bother you. However, it does bother Kry. After someone has been mean to you, they always end up in the hospital, one way or another. You can't help but wonder if it's your shy, sweet friend who's behind it.

“I like having picnics with you. Oh, you forgot the other fork? No, don't apologize, I understand that it was a mistake. We can share a fork, I'm okay. Yes, it's fine, I don't mind … you're so nice, wiping the fork for me, you don't have to do that ...”

King Edmund:

If you are Edmund’s friend while he's the crown prince, you need a lot of patience. He is spoiled rotten, entitled and unpleasant to be around. Everything is on his terms. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't value you. He is locked in his room day in and day out with a private tutor, completely isolated from everyone else. He will throw fits and threaten not to do his classes, unless he is allowed to play with you. So, they bring you to the castle where you get to live from now on.

Edmund absolutely loves to spend time with you. You ride horses together, torment the staff, play pranks and read. When he can't sleep, he walks into your room and crawls under the sheets.

You're with him when his parents are murdered. Edmund's first instinct when the castle is attacked is to run to your room, wake you up and hide the two of you. He is equipped with a sword and will protect you to the last moments.

Although the two of you are isolated, there are people in the staff making fun of you, or talking bad. Edmund doesn't even hide the fact that he orders for their deaths.

“I fucking hate classes, and I hate that tutor. It's so boring. I wish you could take the classes with me, it'd be so much more fun. After class, can't we do something? Can't we go down to the fountain and read? I want you to read for me. You're the only one that reads the story right, that does them justice. Everyone else sounds like fucking donkeys.”

Jerry:

Jerry goes to an all girls school in South Korea. You don't go to the same school — which is probably for the best. Jerry is the leader of her little gang, and they are notorious for their bullying. She is a bully for fun, but won't allow any of her friends to make fun of you. If they do, she will ruin their lives. You do know about her life outside the school though, you have been with her when she steals from stores (often makeup stores). You often meet her after school and go to the mall or amusement parks together. She's a very sweet person to be around when it's just the two of you.

You're friends with her before she starts to call herself ‘Jerry’ — when she's still ‘Yubin’. She had seen the name in a TV series and liked the character. She says that she is going to move to the US, and then she wanted an english name.

You're often with Jerry's friend group on weekend nights, often strolling around the town with alcohol and cigarettes, sometimes breaking stuff. Jerry makes sure that if they're ever caught, her and you slip away. She finds it all extremely exciting.

Jerry escapes to you when she gets to know that her parents (and perhaps sister if i want to give her one) have been murdered by a rival, when she has involved herself in criminal activities for real. It's the first time you get to see Jerry break down. She's in your arms, crying heavily, admitting how scared she is and how much she misses her parents. She loves her family, and now there is nothing left of it. She says that she died that day, and that whoever is inhabiting her body now is a fraction of who she once was.

“You're such a fresh wind from that fucking girl school. Why do I have to go there? Why am I not allowed to join a coed school? What? Why my nails have blood under them? No, I didn't get into a fight again. I didn't. I promise. Get up, let's go get sushi, I'm starving.”

Hedwig:

If you're a childhood friend of Hedwig, you're basically a family member. You go on her family's expensive vacations, just because Hedwig doesn't want to be alone.

You play every day and go through all stages of life together. Hedwig has always been the sweetest human you've ever known, and it surprises you when you see her angry. The many, many years you've been friends, you've only seen her angry a handful of times. You go to summer camps together, share beds, share everything. Teachers ask for the other when one is gone (which is rare).

Being childhood friends with Hedwig would most likely end in romance at one time, so she would win without having to do anything harsh. But if you started developing crushes other than Hedwig before, she would ruin their reputation until you wouldn't want to look at them anymore, but no one would know that it was Hedwig.

Hedwig has always been very popular, both for her money and looks, and by default, you've been too because you're her best friend. Hedwig likes to see how nice everyone is to you, because they know better than to upset you. No one wants to get out of the magical bubble that is Hedwig’s popularity.

“We will be friends forever, won't we? I don't think I could live without you, Y/N. You're the other half of my soul. If I don't have you nearby, I can't breathe.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere female #yandere imagine #yandere headcanon

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parkerluvsu · 3 months ago

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Sorry if i'm asking for too much but girl we desperately need a full fic of cowboy!Art 🛐. Like Art seeing another cowboy approach you and him feeling so jealous and possessive even you're not his yet and him finally finding the courage to confess his love to you but you reject him or something and he starts working harder to get you to accept him 🧎‍♀️🛐

omg not asking for too much at all!!! tried to make this as long as i could but im just so bad at translating my thoughts to words so.. hope u like it <3 (also no i don't know anything about cowboys or rodeos so please forgive me)

PonyBoy (Art Donaldson)

cowboy! art donaldson x fem! reader

late summer nights in july were always your favorite, the captivating sunsets and low-flying june bugs only adding to your enjoyment. usually, people in your small town could be found smoking or knitting on their creaky front porches on a pretty night like this but tonight was a special occasion, with every person who could manage the walk to the outskirts of town or snag a ride in the bed of a truck packed into the rickety seats of the outdoor arena, waiting for the rodeo show to begin. you near the entrance to the venue, tapping your foot anxiously. the most famous rodeo cowboy in your town, art donaldson, is facing another challenger from the next town over. of course you wanted your cowboy to win, there's always been rivalry between your two towns, and now that there was an outlet to outperform each other, both towns showed out for their cowboys.

art donaldson had been the talk of the town since he hit the scene a couple years ago, renowned for his skills and many trophies in rodeos across the state but especially popular among young women and men who found themselves extremely attracted to his strong frame and pretty blond hair. you never caught onto the craze though, thinking he was too good to be true. you'd been scorned a few times in your life by those pretty cowboy types, so you just leaned back in your seat and watched as fans of art crowded around the entrance where he would soon emerge.

as the lights dim over the arena the crowds roars become louder, the claps and woops of fans young and old echoing through the space. you almost have to cover your ears when the announcer yells at the crowd to settle down and welcome the challenger from the neighboring town. boos and yells now fill the stadium, as arts opponent preens at the attention coming from the crowd, tipping his obscenely huge cowboy hat at you, winking smugly. you roll your eyes, turning your head to the spotlight illuminating the entrance where art would soon emerge. the energy in the arena immediately changed when art entered the ring, and even you couldn't resist standing up and clapping and cheering for him like the rest of the fans in the crowd. you swore you felt his eyes on you when he was waving at the crowd, but you were just imagining it.. right?

the rodeo goes by in a flash, you're not surprised that art comes out on top in the end. he rides his horse in a celebratory circle around the ring, when he gets to your section your stomach drops as he tips his hat at you, a small smirk on his face. you look away, reasoning that he probably does this with every girl he sees, a big celebrity like him is sure to be a playboy.

exiting the arena, you looked for your car in the parking lot, lost in the sea of beat up pickups. not looking where you were going, you suddenly hit a wall of muscle, looking up, immediately annoyed before you notice a familiar smirk. "art.. art donaldson?" you step back, looking around for his roadies and drunk friends that always seem to follow him around. "in the flesh darlin'" he flashes that smirk again and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "no offence but shouldnt you be like at an after party or something? you won today, im sure you'd get free drinks at any bar in town" you don't mean to stereotype him but.. he truly seems like the type to have a different girl hanging off his arm every night. he smiles, "parties ain't really my thing, actually i was hoping id find you out here". you look at him with raised eyebrows, wondering if he's got you mixed up with another girl. "see, well i saw you in the crowd, most people at these things just go crazy for me but, honestly you didn't seem too interested at all" he shrugs. you shake your head, hoping he's not out here to lecture you about his sport, "no, no that's not it.. i just don't exactly have interest in watching men preen themselves, i mean your opponent was being a total duche to me". he frowns immediately, "are you serious? jesus.. im sorry darlin' ill keep my eye out for him, wouldn't want you to get scared and never come see me again.." he trails off. you tap your foot on the ground hoping he'll get to the point soon. art catches your drift, "well anyway, i was wondering if you'd let me prove you wrong, im a little more than a famous cowboy yknow". you look around, almost expecting cameras to pop out and announce you were on some sort of prank show. "are you kidding?" he shakes his head. "listen i.. i don't doubt that you're fun or whatever but i don't date celebrities" you say matter-of-factly. he frowns, finally taking off his hat for the first time that night, letting you see his slightly sweaty blond hair, curled in the heat, "you're kidding. i promise, just lemme take you on one date-" you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips, "i said i don't date celebrities. im flattered really, but i have my morals. goodnight ponyboy" he bristles at the nickname and you giggle, turning quickly and letting out a breath of air you didn't know you were holding. you barely register his call after you, "just gimme a call princess, ill prove you wrong!". you shake your head, finally making it to your car and shutting the door, placing your head on the steering wheel. that couldn't have actually just happened.. the art donaldson hitting on you.. you knew all the girls in your town would kill for a chance to be in your place, and they would never turn him down. driving along the winding roads to your house, you bite your lip, wondering if you made the right choice. shaking your head slightly you push the idea out of your mind, he's probably out finding another girl to flatter and take home. it was settled, you wouldn't think about him anymore. but as your head hit the pillow that night the last thing you thought of was that stupid smirk of his.

the rest of your week goes on like normal, repeating your routine every day, without thought of your weird encounter with art. it's wednesday, meaning the local farmers market is open. you grab your bag and head out into the world, immediately wishing you grabbed a hat to shield you from the sun. making you way down to the center of town, bustling with buyers and sellers of fresh food. you walked around the market, thinking about what you needed, you stopped at a peach stand to look at your list, not noticing who was next to you. "so we meet again sweetheart.." you recognize the drawl of the familiar cowboy next to you, letting out a deep sigh. "are you following me ponyboy?" you question, looking up at his blue eyes, shadowed by his cowboy hat. art shakes his head, chucking at you, and you hate to admit it but it's a very attractive chuckle. "no, 'course not, you turned me down remember? i know when im not wanted.." the way he says that, you almost get offended. "i- you know i didn't mean it like that, i just don't date celebrities, no matter who they are" you say, looking up at the now very confused peach farmer, looking between the both of you. you pay for your peaches and leave, and to your (partial) annoyance you hear arts cowboy boots against the gravel behind you. "can i ask you somethin'?" you nod, and art takes his place at your side. "why don't you date celebrities, just curious of course" you smile, shaking your head, he really won't give up, will he? "well, i guess i just don't think they're real, too good to be true yknow? most of the once ive seen are just total players, i feel like it's in their nature to be greedy and always want more. no offence obviously.." art nods along with what you're saying, truly looking like he's thinking about it. "geez, you're an expert on the topic aren't you? i would hate to find out you think of me that way, cuz i really aint that type of guy" art looks down at you, walking slowly to match your pace. "well.." you look him up and down, "you don't exactly have the presence of someone who likes to keep to themselves" art laughs, now letting silence seep between you as you make your way back to your home. arts quiet presence is surprisingly comforting for a showboat like him, if you closed your eyes you probably wouldn't even notice he was there. reaching the porch of your house you turn to face him, not sure what to say next. art takes off his hat, placing it on his heart, "let me prove you wrong. please, im begging you sweetheart, ill do anything you want me to do to convince you" your eyes widen, shocked at the sudden advance. "you.. aren't gonna let this go are you?" he shakes his head quickly, "not at all, no." you sigh, "you're very sweet art but.. i don't even know you-" he cuts you off. "then get to know me, i won't disappoint you darlin'" you weigh the options in your mind, the cons and the pros of the situation, with art right in front of you, you can't help but take a chance. "alright, alright. one date okay ponyboy? one." his face lights up immediately, placing his hat back on his head. "thank you, thank you seriously, ill prove you wrong about me" you nod at his promise. "i should get inside but.." he nods, looking almost sad at the thought of you leaving. "alright.. ill pick you up tomorrow at seven, does that work for you" he's eager, more eager than you'd expect, and you're flattered. you agree, heading inside and preparing for the next day.

one date turns into two, then three, the next minute you're seeing each other every night. most of the time art comes to your place, he tells you it's because he doesn't really have a permanent residence at the moment, but you know he does it just to get to know you better, peeking through your books and trinkets, looking for something to boost his knowledge about you. he cooks too, something you didn't expect from him at all, to his credit, he's absolutely proving you wrong, but you'd never admit that to him, he's too cocky as it is. he hardly ever talks about rodeo when he's with you, separation of work and pleasure he tells you, but truthfully he just doesn't want you to see him as that celebrity, he just wants to be art with you. and you let him be normal with you, spending lazy days in bed with him, not worrying about anything. you can't imagine your life without him anymore, he's there when you wake up, when you're preparing breakfast and going about your chores for the day, he's there, when you get in bed for the night he's certainly there too. he'd never tell you, but he thanks his lucky stars when you fall asleep in his arms, he shudders thinking about where he'd be if you turned him down. luckily, he'd never have to think about that anymore, now that he was yours, your ponyboy.

#parkerluvsu #art donaldson #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers #mike faist #mike faist x reader

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ratcash-wasgud · 10 months ago

Text

Farmer!Mizu x reader headcanons!!! (yay)

About Mizu:

Hence living in the countryside her whole life, she grew up with a small accent, but since Akemi didn't have one, she secretly practiced to speak withouth it.

She grew up alongside Eiji, who owned a farm, and her mother who sometimes visited, but not really out of love.

She never really had friends, since the farm was kinda isolated, exept for Ringo was the son of a noodle shop owner, and bought supplies from the farm.

Akemi moved down to the country side when Mizu was already 17, and she was the first "city-person" she interacted with.

Taigen was the son of the sheriff of the town, who loved to accuse Mizu to be a criminal or low life of some sorts, since she was usually covered in dirt from helping Eiji.

Mizu inherited the farm from Eiji, who just randomly decided to retire one day and move to small cottage. That man does whatever he wants.

Mizu quickly got the hang of the farm life, and by 22 she became used to everything and learned to love the hard work too.

She keeps chickens, cows and horses on the farm, along with a dog.

The dog's name is Stew and she got him from Ringo, claiming she needs someone around to not feel lonely. Nowadays Mizu talks to Stew about random things when she feels bored.

She also got a favourite chicken named Braces. She named it that because of it's crooked beak.

She also has a guy who reguralry comes back to the farm to train the horses she keeps, named Mikio. Her mother really likes nagging her about marrying him, since "she needs a husband soon and he's a man with money", but Mizu isn't really interested.

She doesn't like the idea of being a housewife. She likes doing the hard work herself, and caring about her farm.

She also mostly grows corn, carrots, tomatoes, and pumpkins. She can get really excited when it's time to harvest, and always brags to Stew about how good her crops look.

You and her:

One day though, a random van parker just outside of her yard, and stayed there. And a big one at that. Big enough for someone to live in it.

Mizu usually knew how to mind her business and enjoyed doing it too, but this time she got pretty curious.

She stayed outside longer that needed, fixing a piece of fence that could've held out even withouth repair, just to catch a glimpe of this mysterious new neighbour.

And there she saw it...you.

A woman who was very obviously from the city, wearing hipster clothes (or that's how she'd call them) and a having weird haircut.

She then, after thinking she calmed her curiousity, shrugged and went inside.

The problem was that she caught herself staring at her ceiling at night, thinking about how much she doesn't care.

The next morning she decided to put out this itching feeling in her brain about this mysterious person, and cut out a generous piece of cheese out of a big wheel she just finished and walked to the van.

You opened the door casually, and the smell of hyacinth punched her in the face. She had to blink a bunch to pull herself out of her head.

"Hey there. Uh...can I help you?" You ask, casually leaning against your van's door. Mizu had to quietly clear her throat before she spoke up after shoving the cheese into your hands.

"Here. Take it." She says, a little harshly, even if she didn't mean it like that. "Name's Mizu. I live in the farm next to ya. We're neighbours." She said, deadpan. You nervously accepted the girft with a chuckle.

"Well, thank you." You smiled at her. "That's very generous of you. How should I thank you?" You ask, casually putting the cheese on the counter next to you.

"No need...is' just cheese." She mumbles She can't help but feel a little nervous. You seem very carefree, and casual...but you're also very different from what she's used to. She likes looking at you, and hearing you soothing voice...and that hyacinth isn't a bad smell either.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that." You playfully bump her shoulder with your fist. "Come in, at least let me make you coffee."

Mizu then withouth even notcing it, walked inside the van, following you. She took in it's cozyness, and also...your form from behind too.

Through her time of sipping some "machine made coffee", she managed to have a nice conversation with you.

She learned that you've been hired in the town's saloon as a singer, and you sing there every other night. It pays well. plus at least you're living your dreams even if you live out of a van. You're an artistic spirt.

She also learned that you are indeed from the city, and you left behind everything to come here, which she admired. She had this stable life on the farm ever since she was small, and she could never imagine just leaving it behind.

She observed you during that conversation, noticng the little chime of your giggle, and the way you lean onto everything that's next to/behind you instead of sitting down, for some reason.

And somehow...she just felt drawn to you.

After she finished her coffee, she bid you goodnight and returned to her farm.

When she arrived she kicked off her boots on the porch, and took off her big hat as she simply sat down on the steps, staring into nothing. Stew came running to her, making himself comfortable on her lap.

"Ya're not gonna believe this." Mizu started to Stew. Ringo was right, Stew was indeed very nice to talk to. "The girl who moved there, in that van...she's pretty nice." She says, petting Stew as she stares at the sunset. "Did ya know she likes music with like...noise in it? That's crazy. She sings at the bar too." She murmurs. "Maybe I should visit one night?" She looks at her dog, who just nudges her head with his nose. "Ya're right, that would be too forward... Ya think she fancies ladies though?"

The way your lives melted together (nsfw warning!):

After that, Mizu started bringing you her produce every other day, varying from cheese, eggs, milk, to even mayo and oil.

She noticed that you never let her leave withouth something in return, let it be a cup of coffee, or even a whole slice of pie, maybe a discount ticket for the bar.

She thought she was laying it on thick, even though was just shoving stuff in your hands with a deadpan expression, then listening to you talk about random things and your day.

Until one day, she decided to get a little bold. While you were cooking pancakes, and she was sipping her coffee just a meter away from you, she suddenly stood up and hugged your waist from behind, pushing her hips against yours.

You didn't say anything, but you didn't push her away, and she could see your cheeks reddening too. That was enough for her after months of pining.

Things let to eachother, and somehow you ended up sitting on the counter, with Mizu standing between your legs, agressively making out for the last thirty minutes.

Her hands kept feeling your body up through your clothes, grabbing at everything that's soft, while your hands slowly wrapped around her neck, slowly untying her bun.

"I'd be so good for you...I promise." She whispered breathlessly into the kiss. She sounded depserate, and honestly? She was. She was pining after this woman for months now, not having the guts to even imagine them being together, so now, that she had opportunity take her, she needs to give everything she's got. "I'd take good care of you...you'd love it on the farm." She says, as she pulls away lightly to start kissing your neck. She slowly lifted your shirt, letting her hands snake inside your bra too, feeling herself melt into your skin. You were so warm and welcoming, like your body soft body was made to be touched.

Made to be touched by her calloused hands though? That one she wasn't sure of. But she wanted it to be like that. Her rough hands grabbed at your soft breasts, kneading them while she listened to your gasps. The only thing you said during the whole eccounter was her name, and "please". Oh, and pleased you got.

"I know, I...I don't have one. A...dick, I mean, but believe me..." She started a little nervously, looking longingly at you as she started to pulls off your pants. "But I could make you feel good withouth one..." She says, and you can feel her calloused fingers on your abdomen, crotch then folds. You body shook a little when you felt her teasing your entrance with her index, and clit with her thumb. You reached out in an attempt to try and undress her too, and maybe give some pleasure back, but she gripped your wrist with her other hand.

"No...I don't want you to. I want to focus entirely on pleasing you now..." She says, and you can feel her almost playing with the juices that dripped out of you. After she made sure her hands were wet enough, she started to slowly push her finger inside, and that alone drew a moan from both of you.

"That's so nice...you feel so warm. You're squeezing me." She whispers right into your ear, as she gently kisses your earlobe, using her other hand to support you, and not letting you just simply slide off the counter. She started slowly moving her fingers in and out first, but only a little, to let you get used to the feeling.

Mizu wanted to do this for a while, and she always imagined what i'd feel like, so she practiced on herself a couple times. She wanted to learn how to please a woman, and she was the closest one to herself, so...

When she heard you whisper her name once again, she started to curl her fingers inside, managing to perfectly rub against your g-spot. She went deeper and deeper, and just like that, the louder you became too. She herself started to pant a little...it felt so good to feel you like this. When she physically started to feel you throb around her fingers, she pushed in as deep as she can, and moved her fingers in a way that could've sent you into a coma.

As she felt you nearing the edge, she pushed her lips against yours, invading your mouth once again, her brain melting as you came on her fingers while moaning inside her mouth.

Aftermath:

After that, you fell alseep in her hands, and Mizu carefully set you down on your bed before she left in silence.

She went home, absolutely giddy, and gushed about it to Stew, whispering the lewd parts, as if anyone else besides her dog could hear it.

She even added "It's a secret though" at the end.

In the following days, when Mizu brough over the produce she sually does, somehow you always ended up sleeping together, and Mizu sometimes even stayed the night.

You both knew it wasn't just about the sex though, since you needed to talk about something for at least two hours before every session, and Mizu always remembered everything new she learned about you.

After thinking about it for weeks, and having two silent breakdowns in front of your door, she asked you to come live with her. The answer was an obvious yes.

You parked your van in her yard, and moved your more important things inside the house.

When anyone asked why Mizu suddenly started supsiciously living with the city girl, Mizu just said things like "Out of conveniece, since she loves to cook and I don't have time for it", mainly to her mother, and mainly to just brush her off. Only Ringo knew the thruth.

And they were roommates, lmao.

#bes mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #fanfiction #mizu fanfic #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #bes smut #smut #modern!au #headcanon #headcanons #bes headcanons

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onlyangel4 · 3 months ago

Text

unexpected. SMAU. LH44. part two.

lewis hamilton x tattoo artist! reader

in which reader is the last person someone you expect to find in the paddock and that is what makes him drawn to you. or lando's tattoo artist friend visits the paddock to tattoo zak brown after the miami gp win and the internet goes mad.

warnings- cursing

part one // part three

main faceclaim is ryan ashley malarkey

y/ntattoos posted a story

written: ready to explore italy away from the paddock

lewishamilton replied to your story: i'll see you half an hour beautiful

hamiltonupdates

liked by user47, user18, user82 and 17,983 others

hamiltonupdates: lewis seen out in italy on what looks like a date. the girl in the pictures is y/n y/ln a long term friend of fellow driver lando norris who is in italy after tattooing zak brown following the mclaren win in miami. what do you think of this pairing?

view all 2,389 comments

user47: she is not wag material

user7: she actually seems really nice, she offers memorial tattoos for free

user47: being a good person is not the only requirement to be a wag, she just doesn't fit the aesthetic

user18: i am hoping that they are just friends, they have a few mutual friends back in london

user82: i actually really like this pairing, unexpected but hot af

y/ntattoos posted a close friends story

landonorris replied to your story: you better be back in your hotel room. alone.

y/ntattoos: well i am back in my hotel room...

landonorris: you are something else y/n i stg

danielricciardo replied to your story: i recognise that car, congratulate lewis for me

y/ntattoos: he says thank you danny

lewishamilton posted a story

written: being treated like a pack horse

y/ntattoos replied to your story: YOU OFFERED TO CARRY IT

lewishamilton: shh baby they don't need to know that

y/ntattoos posted a story

story one written: what the fuck is my life

lewishamilton replied to your story: hope you enjoyed your first flight in luxury princess

y/ntattoos: i did thank you lewis, you did not have to do that

lewishamilton: you really aren't used to being spoiled are you darling?

lewishamilton: don't worry i will show you the finer things in life

y/ntattoos posted another story

written: back in (not so) sunny london

y/ntattoos

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, mclaren and 538,920 others

y/ntattoos: back to work

view all 22,389 comments

jennanorris: the loml is back in london. finally.

y/ntattoos: jen i was gone for 4 days

jennanorris: 4 days too long

mclaren: counting down the days until you back in the paddock

y/ntattoos: tell @.oscarpiastri to hurry up and win a race. then i will be back

mclaren: threatening him rn

lewishamilton: london is lucky to have you

liked by y/ntattoos

user52: thank god she is far away from the paddock, she is not a worthy wag

user23: lewis get out of the likes. she is not good for you

user12: what qualifications do you have to tell a 7 time world champion what is good for him liked by y/ntattoos

y/ntattoos posted a close friends story

written: the best part of my day

jennanorris posted a story tagging y/ntattoos and laylafinch

written: a night spent drinking wine with layla raving about how much she loves her boyfriend, y/n complaining about how much she misses him and me ranting about my situationship. the duality of women.

lewishamilton replied to your story: she misses me

jennanorris: she hasn't stopped talking about you for the past two and a half weeks. she really fucking misses you.

lewishamilton: hmmm...

taglist for this series: @ilivbullyingjeongin @formulaal

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 fandom #f1 fic #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you

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theplumsoldier · 1 year ago

Text

taking care

summary: on thursdays you and joel have a drink, but this time poor old joel is in need of a friend and makes a confession, which brings you closer than ever before.

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader

word count: 8,1k

warning: angst, alcohol consumption, talk of sad bad memories ;(joel tells you about everything that went down at the firefly hospital; killing-spree, lying to ellie, etc.), self-l oathing, crying joel, mutual pining, friends to lovers bro, vulgar language, some domestic bliss, friends to lovers trope!!! mdni 18+: mentions of masturbation and fantasizing about friends, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, pet names. let me know if i missed anything! <3<3

You found it ironic how you had longed for the sun's blazing rays to warm your body all winter when summer had finally reached Jackson and now you were whining and moaning because it felt like you were being fucking boiled alive.

The sweat tickled down your skin, perspiration spread in your hairline, threatening to bunch into droplets and fall from your nose and brow. Joel felt himself tense up at the sight. Dressed in washed denim shorts, a t-shirt, and worn cowboy boots—it was a sight to behold. You looked like an angel to a southern man, and Joel had to clear his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't fail him.

"Still goin' at it? It's Milton's job to take care 'o the horses, y'know."

Chuckling, you shook your head and dusted your shorts as you stood. Running a hand over your horse's mane, you gave Joel a smirk. "You know she don't like nobody but me."

He chuckled. Joel had noticed that the more time you had spent with him, the more his own southern drawl began to echo in your own voice. Not much, not enough for other people to notice, he doubted you yourself even did, but Joel noticed—and every time he got a taste of that sweet honeyed punctuation, his stomach practically somersaulted.

Today, you hadn't been on patrol together, as you had the morning call and he had the evening call. You knew he'd just gotten back. Typically he would shower after duty, but today he hadn't and you knew him well enough to know why.

"Had a rough run?"

Joel huffed in response, forcing himself to pry his eyes off of you for a second. He had never seen you in this little clothes before and was finding it quite difficult not to give you a one-over when you had turned to him completely.

You had tied your flannel around your waist, leaving your arms bare for the sun to tan and it was then he couldn't help himself. Your cleavage was revealed in the little top you wore, droplets of sweat glistening on your skin as they trailed—

Joel cleared his throat once again, "ya up for a nightcap?"

A sly smirk landed on your lips.

Leading your horse May back into the stables, you walked with Joel to his house, to share a drink or two as you did every so often. You sensed a sort of tradition forming, recalling you had done this exact play every Thursday for the past few months. Five out of seven days a week you patrolled together. On Mondays when you were both off duty you played pool. On two out of seven days, you were in no way obliged to see one another and yet, here you were, making it a tradition—ensuring that you would not go as long as 24 hours without keeping each other company.

You wanted to ask about the day he had had but decided against it and settled on asking how Ellie was doing instead. Having come to know Joel quite well, you understood he would rather let work-related matters stay work-related and it seemed fitting to veer your attention at Ellie as you recalled Joel saying she was doing good at school. You should've talked about the weather. The weather was a safe bet.

"S'it turns out she didn't even go—keeps holdin' out on me," Joel worried, clearly contemplating what might be on Ellie's mind.

Some weeks back, Joel had been thrilled to hear that Ellie was doing good in the school in Jackson, but as it turned out, she had lied to him about going. He wasn't sure where she'd run off to, and that bothered him more than the fact that she was keeping things like this from him—how could he keep her safe, if he didn't even know where she was?

It was clear Joel blamed himself for a lot of things, and though you were well aware he didn't always tell you everything just as Ellie didn't tell him everything, you never hesitated to assure him he was doing a good job. You admired the way he cared for her - it was obvious he loved her and she loved him - although you doubted they ever spoke of that. One night Joel had shared with you a portion of what Ellie had been through, and even admitted that there was a time, a brief span where Ellie had gone through hell for him and he didn't even know what she had endured back then—he blamed himself for a lot of things that happened to her, constantly reminding himself that he was not good enough, that he let her down. Joel hated that feeling, that he was failing yet another daughter and he needed to get a whole lot more of his chest, to talk to someone—to you, about what had happened before they returned to Jackson. He just never could, never knew how to begin nor how to explain why he'd done all those atrocities—what else might one call it? It was fucked up, all of it, but the situation had been so very fucked up too and he just needed someone to agree with him on that, he needed you to ensure him he had been right to make the choices that he did.

But Joel had always been good at keeping his feelings bottled up, letting them mix together over the years until an occasion allowed him to relieve some of the stress that concoction produced.

You had confronted him about it once when you had felt a small fraction of his anger—he had admitted and apologized, for it was so very unprompted he realized when he took it out on you, which led to a much more calm and collected conversation where you advised him to relieve himself of all that weight he insisted on carrying like fucking Atlas lifting the universe. While you didn't want to act like you were any better at that yourself - getting help, that is - he agreed you were right. In that moment he understood and doted the fact that you were willing to let your shoulder be one for him to cry upon if need be. Of course, he wasn't going to do that every chance given (patrolling helped a lot with his anger issues, giving him an excuse to commence violence); nevertheless, Joel felt touched to know you would be there for him.

Instead of dumbing his shitload of stress on you, he found himself going out of his way to see you outside of your communal duties, your company somehow helping in other ways. Though Joel never initiated any deep conversations with you, they happened every now and again and those nights, when he'd go to sleep, it felt as if he could rest just a bit easier.

The sun gradually went over the horizon, the blue sky melting into a nuance of lilac, bringing with it the cold and quiet air of night. This was a peace neither of you had experienced in a long time before settling down in Jackson and therefore as sacred and precious as a promise.

You helped yourself to another drink and Joel quietly watched on as you poured the liquid gold. Holding up the bottle you tipped your head to look at him, silently asking if he needed a refill.

Over the years Joel had become a man of few words and meeting you he suspected he had found his match. You only conversed freely around people you liked and enjoyed the company of, not nearly bothered enough to spare even a glare at those who didn’t deserve your time.

You decided to joke to lighten the mood and hoped you weren't overstepping. "Come on, Joel. I know you're older than me but you must've been a teenager at some point."

It made him snort and his brow jumped at the change of topic though he wasn't about to object. You adored it when he looked at you like that; the way he glared when you teased him or made him laugh. "If I was I sure don't remember."

Joel downed the rest of his drink and held out the glass. You leaned forward and poured him a couple of inches and for a second Joel slipped, forgetting his guard and manners as he watched more of your chest expose to him. He wasn't sure when his attraction had begun, but he had noticed that lately he just couldn't seem to oppress it. Joel would waste away at night, fighting the urge to let himself give in to his desires and fantasize about you as he fisted his cock—and he was strong on that part. It was hard (and in more ways than one) but he felt disrespectful even thinking of you like that. He was supposed to be your friend; and what kind of friend would he be if he was ready to betray your trust when he was feeling lonely.

He gulped.

Finally prying his eyes off of you, Joel wet his dry lips and slushed the drink around the cup.

"You're a generous bartender," he remarked sarcastically.

You laughed.

"You've got expressive eyes, you know that?"

He stopped with the rim of the glass at the tip of his lip, pausing, fearing he had been caught. The thump, thump, thump of his heart resonated in his ears.

"'S that so?" he pondered. "What're they tellin' ya?"

Joel hoped you didn't notice the way his breath hitched in his throat when you leaned back in the rocking chair with a smug smirk on your lips.

"That you were a troublemaker," you grinned. "But you never got in trouble 'cause you were so damn charming as a kid. Probably shoplifted gum or some shit."

Joel laughed. You weren't too far off; he did occasionally get into trouble and he did usually get out of it with no problem—his mom had called him the luckiest boy in the world. The memory struck a cynical thought in his mind; he might have been lucky but not enough to miss the end of the world.

Joel decided to entertain your guessing game. "I ain't ever shoplifted. Didn't have the guts for it," he tutted before taking a swig. "'F I had it would've been condoms though."

Your eyes squinted and crinkled as you bit back a cackle. Your head fell back and your chest bubbled with laughter and he knew he shouldn't have made the last comment when he felt his cock strain against the seams of his washed jeans.

"Joel Miller—scared of a lil' thievin'?" you teased, moving your boot from the porch railing to shove at his thigh.

There was that southern accent you had obtained from him again.

He masqueraded his discomfort by shoving back at your foot with a chuckle—he wasn't sure why he kept his hand on your boot though, keeping it in the place you had put it.

"I didn't have sex till I was like 24..." Joel's expression turned sour as he noticed yours did the same and sensed a bitter memory. Then you mused, trying to make light of the bitter picture that flashed in your mind: "Thought it was love. Turns out it was fear."

You shook your head as if to shake the thoughts out. You'd been through a lot since then, toughened up and become brave enough to fight for yourself, but the memory was still clear. You had vowed to never trust another man again which was why it made this blooming attraction to Joel Miller all the more difficult. The last thing you had considered when coming to Jackson was to try and build a life, and yet; here you were, having built a life with friends and found family in a prospering community with a steady ass job and bars and cafés and all that shit as if the world had never ended.

It seemed almost like you had been feigning sadness for your mien changed so abruptly it caught Joel off guard. You said with casual indifference: "How 'bout you? Ever manage to find love in this fucked up world?"

Joel wasn't sure if you were testing him. You had said he had expressive eyes and completely misread his mind—now he wondered if it was on purpose. The way you nudged him with your boot (that he was still holding onto) told him you were very aware of what you did to him.

And you noticed—of course, you noticed the way his eyes would effortlessly glide over your body, down your body whenever you moved an inch. You had noticed his attention before, but not like this. Not when it shamelessly continued when you had caught him and it made you realize you were not making stuff up in your mind.

Joel wanted you, too.

Now you just wanted him to admit it.

"Once or twice," he finally admitted though his answer gave you little to work with.

You supposed it was the question and not the answer that was the problem; there's a fine line between loving another person, caring for another person, liking a person, and enjoying their company. You had once been told that one could determine if they loved someone, romantically, in just a few minutes by looking into the other person's eyes. It made you wonder—how long would it take you? Would you find that you did in fact love Joel Miller after just 3 minutes? Or would you find that there were more cons than pros to your relationship? Perhaps you might hate him, and this attraction was spurred on by a sadistic kind of hatred and a need to put him in a vulnerable position.

No. That seemed unlikely.

When you first met him you thought he was arrogant, manipulative, and cocky.

Now that you had spent so much one-on-one time with him, you had realized he was confident, persuasive, and fearless. He seemed impossibly skeptical because he was cautious, and he appeared bossy but that was just him being self-asserted.

You couldn't possibly blame a man for being confident when the trait suited him so well. Right now, you had just hoped he was confident enough to let you know how he felt.

Suddenly you shivered. The days had become unbearably warm but the nights were equally unrelenting with the cold.

"It's getting cold."

"Y'wanna call it a night?"

"I'd rather go inside," you shrugged blatantly as if it was not a big deal. It was. Despite how long you had known Joel and how often you were in his company, you had never been beyond this porch, never stepped into the humble residence. You pressed, watching him rather intently: "S'that weird?"

Joel's fingers were intertwined in his lap, thumbs picking at each other. There was a blank yet somehow inquisitive look in his brown eyes and you couldn't tell if it was because his mind was going over what you were offering or because the whiskey had caught up to him.

He let go of his lip with a tsk and shook his head. His gaze softened, and a faint but certain smirk tugged the corner of his mouth. "Not at all."

Joel made the move to stand up and your boot found the ground below with a thud. He grasped the two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, then pushed the door handle with his elbow.

Inside the walls were painted a deep orange and it reminded you of curry. Though it was not a nice color, it made the room appear warm and cozy with the lights on. There was a green couch which pretty much made up the living area. A bartop separated the kitchen from the dining room and there was a small mess atop the table where you supposed Ellie had been drawing. It was only then you noticed the art decorating the house, Ellie's drawings displayed in beautiful gold frames like in a museum. It made you chuckle.

"Where's Ellie anyway?"

Joel slouched down on the couch, arms spreading around the back and you looked over just in time to catch him parting his legs, thick thighs smothering the couch cushion, looking oh so big and handsome. What a slut, you thought.

You occupied the space left beside him, pulling your legs up under your body, and thanked him as he handed you your glass. In an effort to test the waters, you let your fingers brush over his knuckles as you accepted the drink, watching him closely. He shifted a bit, but in no way trying to distance himself from you. Your knees rested against his thigh and you could've sworn he only moved his leg closer to you.

"She's with that girl Cora."

"Flemmings?"

"Yeah."

Cora Flemmings was a sweet girl, not the type you would have guessed Ellie would want to hang out with, but you guess that's where your relationship with her ended. You had realized she was quite likable early on, witty and smart, too, but that was about it. She didn't allow a lot of people to get close, and you supposed that was fair all things considered—still, you couldn't help but feel you had let her down. It was stupid, really, but being as close a friend to Joel as you were, it felt like you should know her better.

A shared a couple of more drinks, just lounging on the couch, side by side, your shoulder pressed against his. It was not unusual for Joel to be quiet even when you would go on talking about whatever came to mind, but you noticed he was being more unresponsive than normal. You knew him too well to think he was getting drowsy from the mix of the late hour and the whiskey. His mind was on something else, and again you wanted to pry, but you knew better than to do so.

To your surprise, he let you in: "Can I tell you something?"

It was a stark contrast of serious pondering compared to the mindless rambling of life in outer space, going from negative numbers to a hundred in a split second. You were caught off guard, but tilting to look at Joel instead of the ceiling, you nodded softly.

It was difficult not to notice the tension in his body, sitting close to him and all. Feeling his chest rise with labored breaths, watching his jaw clench and loosen up, only to flex again, you realized something far deeper than extraterrestrials was on his mind.

Nothing could have prepared you for the burden he was about to unload. Joel resumed to tell you how when he had first met Ellie, she had been nothing more than precious cargo to the Fireflies, a girl believed to be immune to Cordyceps. It was his mission to get her to Salt Lake City, but when he and Ellie reached St. Mary’s Hospital, he discovered that the doctors would have to perform a brain operation. It would kill her. Everything that had happened up until that point had been for that specific moment. His bottom lip trembled as he told you he didn't even have to think about it before he grabbed the gun and started shooting. "It was easy," he said as tears welled up in his eyes. After spending months protecting and getting to know Ellie, getting to love her like his own daughter—he wasn't about to not rescue her from yet another certain death. He recalled how they'd had a brief moment before it all, where Ellie admitted she wanted to stay with Joel after the procedure. "Used it as an excuse," he cried silently. "She 'ad no idea she wouldn't come out on the other side."

Your heart sank as it all dawned on you. Everyone involved robbed Ellie of any agency at all.

What seemed to be the worst part for Joel, though, was when he lied to her. Saying she asked him point-blank to tell her the truth of what had happened back there. He spoke through gritted teeth, his gravelly voice clawing its way through his heart in his throat: "Then I told her the fattest lie."

You wanted to jump in, reassure him he did what he thought was right and at least gave her a chance of life. But you couldn't. It was too big a mouthful, too tough to swallow it all at once and give him some not-thought-through assurance.

It was a lot to take in.

You had never doubted Joel would do everything in his power to protect the ones he loved, but this—it was all too visual to get behind. Impeding finding a cure, the rampage through the hospital, the lying. It was easy to see Joel hated every part of what he had done, though he did not regret it. It was horrifying to think, but it didn't not sit right with you.

That's what parents were supposed to be, right?

Protectors.

He might have acted out of his own interest; he might have stripped her of what she believed—what she wanted to be her destiny, but he did it out of love.

You couldn't possibly sit here and say you wouldn't have gone full-on Attica to save the ones you loved. You couldn't possibly tell him you would have done the same either. In more than one way, you were much like Joel, only you hadn't had that kind of bond with anyone in a long time, and so it was impossible for you to understand everything Joel had gone through, everything he still went through.

At this point became quiet, his soft sniffles reduced to staggered breaths. His hands shook in his lap as his fingers fidgeted. You reached across and took his hands in yours, the size difference almost comical in your smaller ones.

"I hate that you went through that, Joel," you began, biting your lip as you contemplated your words. "It was... It might not have been a difficult choice then, but it's no doubt difficult to live with."

You hated to think he had done that, but you could see that he, most of all, was disgusted with himself for lying to her. That would have hurt him more than anything else he had done that day, and it was evident he hated himself for that.

You squeezed his hands between your own, prompting him to look at you.

"You did what you thought was right. You did everything in your power to protect her. You can't possibly be wrong for that."

His eyes dropped and his face contorted, beating himself up. Although his head bobbed in a quiet nod, agreeing with you, your words didn't do much to convince him.

You wanted to cry, loathing the thought that you couldn't convince him he was not a bad man, couldn't help him.

A different approach then.

You were aware that Joel possessed an innate distrust in systems: He had shared with you his experiences with the government back in the day, his experience with the Fireflies, his experience with FEDRA. Nobody had ever worked in his favor.

You were so focused on helping him that you didn't even realize you had reached up to cup his cheek. Stray tears bedewed the upper edge of his stubbles, and you caressed the patch mindlessly with your thumb. You had never been this close.

"Hey," you whispered softly, keeping his despondent brown eyes on you. It broke you but you put on a determined face. "It's okay, you're okay, Joel—you're here. Don't beat yourself up about it, it's okay."

He didn't believe that. Joel's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts turning on him, torturing him.

His eyes squinted, forcing a new wave of tears to flow and you shook him, more harshly than you meant to. "Joel, hey—hey! Look at me, look at me, Joel."

He forced himself to snap out of it, a sharp inhale clawed its way down his throat, forcing his lungs to be filled. The scent of you, the scent of a day's work and macadamia shampoo, calming his senses.

It's okay.

You're okay.

You're safe.

Finally, his labored breaths ceased and he managed to stop trembling. Bringing himself to look at you, you didn't miss the way he gulped, his expression turning soft with the remains of deep lines carving his features.

"Good, you're doing good, Joel," you praised, too close, too deep in it not to brush the fallen strings of dark, matted hair out of his face. "Look whose to say these people had any clue what they were doing? Hell, even if they did manage it—say they produced a cure—what then? How'd they distribute it? How'd they manage to cure the last of us while the Cordyceps is still out there, constantly mutating? I—I mean they might be able to save a couple hundred, maybe thousands—but what's the use? People would get infected along the way, people like us, who are safe here in Jackson, we'd go out there again and risk our lives just to get the vaccine—a-and what for? We've already lost this battle. S'it really worth saving what's left?"

As the tension of your rant died down, you suddenly became very conscious of the way you held onto Joel. Your hands had settled on his shoulders for purchase, and the fleeting thought of how fucking broad they were this up close, made shame crawl your skin.

Dropping your hands, you watched him intently, looking for signs of discomfort, hoping you hadn't gone too far.

Though his expression was difficult to read, your gut told you he was grounded again, and you boldly leaped at the opportunity to provide that last bit of assurance.

You wet your lips and sighed.

"I won't act like I know what is right and what is wrong, but I can't blame you for doing what you believed to be the moral choice. You are not the villain."

Watching as he was deep in thought, a pang of guilt struck you. On more than one occasion, had you accused Joel of being prone to overthinking. From experience, you knew that entailed tossing words around to better fit the negative narrative in one's brain, and now you worried you might have said too much to have been any help at all.

Worriedly, you spoke your mind: "I hope I didn't say too much, make matters worse."

Joel didn't look at you just yet, but he instantly shook his head. "No, no," he muttered, collecting his thoughts. Breathing in was easier now, he noted, the pinching strain in his chest changed for something else. A small chuckle escaped him and he cleared his throat and shifted in the couch to cover it up, as if he didn't mean to let it slip. Turning to you, there was a small glint in his eyes. "Thank you. Really, I… You know, wouldn't 'ave vented to you like that if I expected you to keep your mouth shut. Trust me, you didn't make me feel worse, doll."

Doll. It played on a loop in your mind.

Doll, doll, doll.

"S'good," you mumbled, eyes flickering down his chest. "Cause, you know, really ain't what I was goin' for."

Joel's chest rumbled with a chuckle. There it is again, he mused to himself. That little accent he must have rubbed off on you and that thing in his body tickled his insides again. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, but it was unmistakable.

It dawned on you that you must have been looking at him with the sickly adoration of a girl in love, for when the grin faded it was replaced by—confusion, maybe? Curiosity?

"What?" you blurted, mentally deadpanning for albeit short, it was a sweet moment of quietness and you went ahead and made it weird.

Joel then looked puzzled, his head tilting like a bewildered dog asked if it wanted to go for a walk.

Your heart missed a beat at the look in his eye, another when the brown orbs dropped and lingered on your lips. As if the air had been knocked out of you, you suddenly felt breathless, frozen in place as if struck by fear and you wondered how you could be so stupid. What else could it be—not confusion, not curiosity but the need for knowing; if the same thing that was happening to his heart was happening to yours?

"I-I—" you stammered but were quickly cut off as Joel jumped from the couch as if he had realized he was late for something.

"I, uhh," Joel interrupted though he had no better speech prepared than you had. He scratched the underside of his arm, looking both bashful and hot with embarrassment.

The silence resumed and you stood up as well, trying to figure out what the hell to do with your arms so that you wouldn't look so awkward. "Tell you what, you uh—you go clean up and I'll make a little dinner and we'll eat and I'll get outta your hairs, then." The thought of leaving didn't sound as appealing as you thought it would. Making a fool of yourself, just a second ago, ruining whatever that had been, you would have jumped at the opportunity to hide under the covers, but now—you didn't like that idea one bit. You reminded him—but mostly yourself: "We still got an early morning tomorrow."

Joel frowned, shaking his head. "No, yeah, yeah—you're right, sure."

Without another stumbling attempt at conversation, he spun around and disappeared, feet trotting to the sound of his palpitating heartbeat.

Locking himself in the bathroom, Joel immediately started cursing as he scrabbled about, ending up with his palms firmly pressed against the sink.

Finding his reflection in the mirror, he stared into his own eyes for a minute, collecting his crumbling self. "Get it together."

Stripping out of his clothes, Joel turned the faucet on and stepped into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to get hot. He needed to cool down, anyway.

He couldn't get the moment out of his head and wondered if he had misread the entire thing. Could it be, that he had merely been so entranced by his own emotions, that he resorted to some simple wish-thinking? Perhaps you realized, coming out of the sympathetic spell, that you cared for him no more than a friend.

Joel scrubbed harder down his body, heedless to the itch that burned around his newly acquired wounds and scratches.

He couldn't get the image out of his head: The way you had looked at him as you clutched his face in your hands, comforting him—it wasn't how friends looked at each other, no matter how much they cared for one another. Joel looked for signs of the same display of affection earlier in the night, and he recalled your banter, your boot teasingly pushing at his leg, and the way you watched him over the rim of the glass.

Stepping out of the shower, he had managed to get his spiraling thoughts under control, sweep them under the carpet, if you will. Drying off, Joel was about to leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel, as one often would in their own home, but reminded himself that you were in his kitchen.

Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, he begrudgingly jumped into a fresh set of clothes, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a tee when he reappeared in the living room.

Joel cursed his own stupidity when he saw you standing there, mindlessly swaying your hips to Y Andale playing in the background (you had found his stereo) as you stirred the pot. He should have put on a pair of briefs to hold the hardening outline of his cock in place.

When you turned around to place the pot on a felt coaster on the dining table, you gave a start as you saw Joel just standing there. He looked devilishly good in the plain outfit, hair damp and slicked back.

You offered him a smirk. “Hope you don’t mind—jus’ couldn’t help myself when I noticed the stereo.”

All the reasons as to why Joel couldn't do a thing about his attraction to you, all the strength he had just mustered in the bathroom to hold himself back; it all went down the drain as he became aware of the vividly domestic setting before him.

You had little time to assess the situation as Joel closed the space between you in just four strides. Before you knew it, one large hand cupped your cheek and another pulled you close by the waist. There was a split second of that something again, and then he pressed his lips to yours.

Your eyes fluttered close and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his touch (not that you wanted to). His lips felt dangerously soft and puffy, surprisingly warm and inviting as they passionately touched your own. In a delirious moment, the fresh scent of him veiled you like a pleasant comforter after a long day at work, those plush lips wrapping around yours, nibbling, sucking—all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

Breaking apart for air, you felt light-headed, like the room was spinning and you were hot with fever.

It looked as if the black of his pupils had swallowed up the brown of his irises. You were weak, thinking you were the root of his lust. Joel breathed your name.

"S'this okay?"

Biting your lip, you blushed. Putting it into words somehow made it seem all the more real. Even if it was a dream, you hoped you would never wake up.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to hold back the small chuckle it turned into. "You don't have to ask, Joel."

He chuckled then, too, realizing it was probably a bit too late for that anyway. The way your teeth let your lower lip go only made his cock grow harder. Holding you closer, firmer against him, Joel sucked in a breath. "F'you let me, I don't think I can stop."

You prayed he could feel your heart beating against his chest, the way you could feel his cock poke your lower stomach.

Searching for his eyes, you nudged your nose against his. "I don't think I ever want you to stop."

He didn't waste another second.

Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was more heated than the first, showing you exactly how much he wanted you. Swiping his tongue against your lip, you let him in without hesitation, tasting him for the very first time. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing, Joel snaked his arms down your body, lifting you from under your thighs with a grunt.

You were so caught up in finding his soft spots, kissing him gingerly on his neck, that you didn't realize where he was carrying you until you were splayed out on his bed, melting into the mattress.

Eagerly reconnecting your lips, you found yourself having completely forgotten about the soup, relishing the feeling of the open-mouthed kisses Joel pressed to your skin.

Moaning as he nibbled the skin below your ear, you pulled his face back up to yours, wanting to prolong the kiss. He gave in to your desires but trailed his lips down your neck as your fingers entangled with his hair and you began writhing beneath him.

Finding that sweet spot he had only gotten to graze before you pulled him away, he brought his lips close to your ears and whispered: "You gonna let me take care o' you now?"

Too lost in the sensation, the feeling of his warm lips brushing your skin, the press of his body weight against yours, you couldn't do anything but moan, whimpering a small “please”. He could do whatever he wanted with you.

Noting the bliss you were caught in, Joel chuckled, but he was determined on an audible confirmation. Grasping you by the jaw, he forced you back down on earth. "Tell me you want me."

Brows furrowed and hips desperately bucking up, you whined and responded, "please, please, Joel—need you."

Joel had to steady himself against you, feeling his muscles weaken at the sweet, sweet sound of your begging.

"S'a good girl," murmured he, letting his hands roam every curve of your body, every hill, and every cleft. Squeezing your hip, you felt the coarse pads of his fingers caress the skin beneath your top. "Take this off f'me, yeah?"

You quickly got rid of it, not particularly eager to move your hands from his body. Joel laced his fingers through yours, pressing your hands at either side of your head as he eagerly kissed you, his warm tongue darting out of its cave to invite you to dance.

His palm kneaded your breast, a low groan escaping him which you swallowed down, moaning when his coarse thumb swiped across your nipple.

"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked lowly, and you whimpered meekly, bucking your hips up in response.

Joel worked your shorts off of you, and it seemed to get ten degrees hotter in the bedroom. He had left your panties on and as he trailed a path of wet kisses down your body, you groaned pathetically.

"Joel, please," you begged, not sure whether you wanted his fingers or his mouth, his tongue or his cock.

"I know, pretty girl, I know," he hummed, but there was little sympathy in his tone. A wanton sound escaped you when one of his fingers expertly nudged your clit, like he already knew your body like the back of his hand. "Look at you, baby, so pretty and ready f'me."

You had never given it much thought, whether Joel was one for pillow talk, but you certainly didn't mind it. You couldn't even be flustered about the mess you must have made in your panties; not when his eyes were enlivened with adoration and words laced with desire, not when his touch felt so enticing.

Joel pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your slick, kissing and nibbling at your inner thigh.

Moaning, a chain of pleas left your lips. Another low chuckle escaped him and you barely managed to pout down at him before his tongue darted out, collecting your arousal in a long, painfully slow lick. Eyes fluttering shut, they rolled to the back of your head while your hands clutched the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white.

"Holy—f-fuck!"

His nose, so perfectly shaped rubbed against your clit and his beard tickled your sex, making you squirm.

Joel used his hands to part your legs further, giving them a squeeze to let you know to keep them in place. His fingers spread your sex and groaned when his thumb played with the bundle of nerves.

As his tongue licked up and down your wet pussy, your legs threatened to close in on him and he must have noticed your struggling because he praised you, murmuring you were doing so good for him. You spread your legs as if on command, determined to be worthy of the praise.

While his thumb circled your clit, a finger prodded against your opening, coating it in your arousal as Joel slipped inside and he grunted. "So damn tight for me, baby girl."

So concentrated on holding your legs in place while he worked you closer to the edge, you involuntarily ground down on his hand, adding to the pressure on your clit, and felt his thick finger spread you so deliciously.

He chuckled, "y'want more, huh?" Adding another finger to the mix, he curled two digits against your spongy walls and you cried out. "I know, I know, baby. You're doing so good, pretty girl, clenchin' down real nice—fuck."

Joel allowed you to feel him as he worked his fingers in and out of your sex at a tauntingly slow rhythm, leaving you to feel the stretch when he was knuckles-deep.

"Fas—fuck! Faster Joel," you moaned, panting as you became increasingly impatient to reach the impending orgasm.

Joel watched you intently, jaw slack, and peppered open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. He picked up the pace, grinding his own hips into the mattress.

"Fuck, baby—that's it, keep makin' those pretty lil' noises for me. Doin' so good," he encouraged, feeling his mouth wet with drool.

"Please—want your cock, Joel," you whined needily.

"I know, I know, baby girl," he sympathized, squeezing your thigh as if to comfort you. It only made you shift beneath him, as his fingers seized pumping, curling against your clenching cunt. He lulled, "you can take a third, right?"

Any answer close to making itself audible was interrupted by his tongue lapping at your clit, adding to the euphoric sensation of three fingers prodding your entrance. A moan got stuck in your throat and your head slammed back down on the pillow, crying at the stretch.

Joel must've sensed your orgasm approaching for he increased the steady thrusting, his movements not once stuttering while his tongue persistently flicked your clit. A wave rushed over you as he coerced the orgasm to be ripped from your writhing body with inaudible praises, letting you ride out your frenzy on his now-soaked face.

Bleary-eyed, hands balling up the sheets, you willed yourself the strength to look down at the sight—and by God, it truly was a sight.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Your cheeks flushed red, and you pulled him into your neck to hide your embarrassment, as if he hadn't just eaten you out as if his life depended on it.

Joel held your face, eyes mindlessly scanning over your features. "Don't be shy now, baby, tastes goddamn delicious," he hummed with a satisfied lull to his tone, pressing his lips to yours.

"No one's ever done that," you blurted, not entirely sure why you would even admit that.

A frown settled on his face, something resembling disbelief and amusement, and then a strained touch of lust padded over his expression. He was not hesitant to admit that only turned him on all the more. Joel’s ego even told him you had been waiting, saving yourself just for him.

You reached between you to pull down his sweatpants and Joel was happy to let you help him out of his constraints: He had had to stop grinding into the mattress while going to town for fear that he might cream his pants. That would have been embarrassing, busting like some teenager finally getting some action. Though he was touch starved, he would hate to wait any longer—he needed to finally feel you—finally be a part of you.

You had always imagined Joel would have a big cock, but your fantasy scenarios did him no justice—he was long and thick, heavy as his weeping tip pushed against your entrance, and you realized why he had insisted on stretching you out first.

Your sex lives had never been a topic brought up in conversation prior to today, but you could imagine he knew it had been a long damn time. Feeling his cock prod against your sex, you felt thankful for the forethought.

"Fuck," Joel shuddered, sheathing himself in your cunt. His forehead bumped against yours. "So damn tight f'me, baby girl."

You latched your hands onto his shoulders for support, wincing at every inch he filled you with.

Joel hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath before he bottomed out in you, a ragged groan finally releasing itself from his dry throat. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes with a boyish smirk—he could hardly believe this was happening, after so long. "How ya feelin'?"

You let out a breathy chuckle, overwhelmed by the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of his smell and his touch. "Over the fuckin' moon."

The worry vanished, wiping his face clean to replace it with another expression, a search.

You tucked him closer, grasping his ass to feel him better. "Fuck me now."

Cock twitching, saluting your command, and obeying your wish, he pulled back, thrusting his hips forward in a grinding motion that had you gasping for air, eyes rolling back.

Joel pressed sultry kisses to your neck, to your cheek, and to the corner of your mouth. Cupping your face in one palm and holding himself up by his elbow, he forced you to come back to him. "Eyes on me, pretty girl."

There's a spot inside you, one you can't recall ever reaching, but when Joel does you're sure your fingernails dig little crescents into his skin. White hot blurs your vision, a string of wanton moans and curses leaving your lips, panting. "Holy shit."

Your hands roam over the expanse of his chest as his thrusts become harder, more relentless. The sun-kissed skin warms your palms and your foreheads brush, breaths shared.

"Fuck, it's like y'were made for me," he sighed, brows creased in concentration and eyes fixated on where his cock disappeared inside your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping were so fucking vulgar and he's right, you thought, and he was made for you, too.

His rhythm was designed to make you see stars. The coil in your stomach tightened and he must have felt you squeezing around him, for the motions only became harsher, his hips crashing into yours in precise strokes.

Joel's head drooped, nose brushing your temple as he shook his head. "M'not gonna last much longer," he confessed lowly.

Dexterous fingers snaked between your sweat-licked bodies and he rubbed your clit, desperate to feel you come around his cock.

Gasping, holding onto his shoulders as he rocked your body back and forth, you forced his eyes to lock with yours. "Come inside me, Joel," you begged fervently, and you knew it was risky, very fucking risky, in fact, but you couldn't care less—you wanted to feel all of him.

The didn't deter him one bit, however, if anything it spurred him on, the jolts of his hips becoming animalistic. He found purchase on your shoulders, holding you in place so that he could better fuck up into you. His hips began stuttering, sinful groans falling from his dirty mouth. "You want me t'fill you up, yeah? Want everyone to know who you belong to? That's it, baby, come around my cock 'n I'll fill you up real good."

Losing yourself to the mind-wrangling orgasm, your legs spasmed and you cried his name, repeating it like a prayer while he fucked you through yours, chasing his own.

With one, two, three thrusts, he spilled inside you, burying his cock deep in your cunt as his purchase buckled under his weight. You didn't care that he collapsed on you—you had never felt better, never felt more full.

Coming down from your highs, you held him close even when he slumped down against your side, his softening cock slipping out of your sex.

For a few moments, you just lay there, regaining your breath, feeling the reality of it all wash back over you. It felt silly having to summon the courage to face him again, but you couldn't help the blush that colored your cheeks.

Joel spoke first. "Can't believe it took us so damn long," he mused, somewhat dumbfounded with a grimace of disbelief. You melted when his strong arm cradled you closer to his chest.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing quietly along to the rise and fall of his breathing. Yawning, you drowsily mumbled, "I don't ever wanna leave your side, Joel."

Joel pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, holding you close as he felt sleep closing in on him. "You won't, sweetheart. I won't let you." Your heart was racing but sleep managed to pull you under its grasp. Joel relished the languid hum you offered in response, and he brushed the hair from your face, kissing you one last time. He could barely wait to wake up with you in the morning. "Sweet dreams, pretty girl."

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