#god i'm not gonna stop thinking about this

[disgustingtwitches]

A Rose in Harlem

Simon Riley is an enigma—a brooding, complex man with a shadowed past that he can’t escape. You’re just an ordinary person until he claws his way into your life and you can't help but give in to him. The only problem is that you try to keep things casual, while Simon's never been one to settle for that.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.

Masterlist

PART 3

(He longs to be) Close to you

***

You freeze, heart pounding, the moment shattered. Who the fuck is that? You think to yourself, panic creeping in. Another knock then a familiar, playful voice from the other side of the door.

“Bitch! I know you're home!”

“Oh my God. Ishta.”

You completely forgot about your little watch party with her. This can't be happening now. Of course it's happening right now.

“Hm, that a girlfriend I don't know about?”

Simon murmurs, nuzzling his face to your neck.

“You need to go.”

Your voice is low, urgent, but it only seems to amuse him. His hands wrap around your waist, pumping his hips upwards, rubbing himself against your soaked underwear.

“What, you're kicking me out? Just like that?”

He nips at your neck, making you yeep. He tightens his hold, long arms locking you in.

You tense, trying to wiggle from him but him and his stupidly defined arms aren't budging.

“I'm serious; you need to leave, now.”

You twist in his arms, your anxiety growing as Ishta's knocking gets louder. She's never been patient.

You can feel his lips curve into a smile.

“You're tense, should relax a bit.”

“Relax?! Oh my God, I'm gonna kill you.”

You snap in a hushed tone, yanking yourself free (well, more like he finally relents and lets you go). You tug your shorts up while he follows suit, much more leisurely than you. He quips while letting you drag him towards the fire escape,

“Can't believe I'm the other woman, thought I was special, angel.”

“You're not making this easy.”

“Mistresses rarely do.”

Simon smirks, while you pull him to the window. Ishta knocks again, louder this time.

“Stop jerking off, the ice cream is melting!”

Simon snickers and you push him through the window onto the fire escape. His large frame steps out, stretching out while he turns to you.

“What? No kiss goodbye?”

“Simon!”

He doesn't budge until you lean out the window, planting a quick, chaste kiss on his scared lips. His hand cups the back of your neck, practically shoving his tongue down your throat, before you wrench yourself away.

“Bye.”

The words come out harsher than you mean while you shut the window, watching him slip into his place, not trusting him to sneak back into yours.

Ishta's voice whines from behind your front door. You smooth out your clothes, pasting a sheepish, wide smile. You take a deep breath before opening your door.

“Hey girl! Sorry I-”

“Was jerking off thinking about your neighbor? I know girl. Get that nut in friend.”

She empties her tote, sets some wine bottles down and grabs two cups from the kitchen before bending to sit on the couch. You wince watching her try to sit where his bare ass was.

“Oh! No don't-”

She looks at you curiously, frozen mid-squat— your brain scrambling to find something remotely plausible.

“I spilled tuna juice there earlier.”

She narrows her eyes at you, searching your face. She must be satisfied with what she sees because she shrugs and moves to the other side.

“Can't smell fishy. Got a date later.”

She pops open a bottle, pouring a generous amount into each cup. You grab the one she offers and take a seat on the arm of the couch.

“A date, huh? Is it that finance guy from last month?”

She rolls her eyes, turning on the TV.

“Oh God, no. He was so fucking annoying, trust fund baby.”

You laugh a little, grateful for her not pressing you on the couch thing.

“So who's the lucky guy?”

She waves her hand vaguely, her attention already on the TV, looking for a show.

“Met him at the park. He was jogging—shirtless, obviously—and tripped over his own fucking shoelaces. Adorable. Total himbo vibes.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling into your glass.

“Thought you liked nerds.”

“That's the thing,”

She turned to you, grinning like a fool.

“Ok so, we were talking about showers,”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally. Anyways, he starts going on about different hypotheses of 'the shower curtain effect' with this dumbass smile on his face. I'm trying not to stare at his tits and just ask him if he wants drinks before I start drooling. Obviously, he says yes, and here we are!”

She finishes her glass and helps herself to another. You lean closer to her.

“So what's the plan? Drinks, talk about nerdy shit, and then stumble into his place and ogle at his star wars figurines?”

“First off all,”

She raises a finger.

“He’s an artist, so get it right. And secondly, he's Scottish. So like, the accent makes everything hotter.”

You hum curiously.

“My apologies, I clearly underestimated his international flare.”

“You did. Also, you're welcome for letting you live vicariously through me, by the way.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, oohh my goodness. Thank you for your graciousness.”

You say in mock appreciation, hand over your heart. Her eyes twinkle when she winks at you.

“Freely granted, my dear. I'll text you all the juicy details.”

“Lucky me.”

You say dryly, swirling your wine glass. Ishta lightly hits your knee.

“Look at us. You got your English guy, I got my Scottish one. Just gotta snatch up an Irish and Welsh one, and we've got a whole set!”

“Please be serious, girl. Also, he's not ‘my guy’, he's just a neighbor.”

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. We'll see how long that lasts.”

***

You've been more moody lately. From Ishta unintentionally cock-blocking you, to work being particularly demanding, and finally, Simon terrorizing you relentlessly.

Ever since ‘the incident’ he's been on you like white on rice. He'll stop you in the mornings in the foyer and casually talk about how he came to the thought of you last night or stand behind you in the elevator and grind up against you, laxly apologizing.

“Sorry. It's just such a tight fit here, right angel?”

You silently thank God Simon has the sense to pull these stunts when no one else is around to witness his brand of debauchery (he doesn't, you just got lucky no one's there when he pulls that shit).

You're barely holding onto your patience. Every word he says, every deliberate touch grates on your nerves. He has you on edge, dangling by a thread. A simple nudge could send you tumbling— yet he never quite gives it. Instead, he leaves you like this, toeing the line.

Waiting. Waiting on you to make the jump.

It kind of surprises you, given the whole…incident. You expected him to follow you into your apartment one day and finally consummate whatever twisted, simmering thing you had going on. But he didn't. Seemed to enjoy making you squirm.

***

You could almost forget about him during the day. Almost. Work has been a circus lately, thanks to your boss—the museum curator who seems to thrive on chaos. She’s brilliant, yes, but she’s also impossible. Barking orders, demanding perfection, treating every missed detail like a personal betrayal. You spend your mornings running errands and your afternoons fielding phone calls from artists who need their egos stroked. The only moment of reprieve is when you’re in the gallery itself, away from the madness, the artwork pulling you into a quiet, timeless space.

But even that doesn’t last. Today, you spent hours installing a new piece—a massive, fragile sculpture—and as soon as it was in place, she decided it needed to be moved six inches to the left. Six inches. By the time you got home, your nerves were frayed, your patience long gone.

He’d been waiting in the lobby when you arrived, as if he knew you’d had a long day. His presence suffocating, his voice a low murmur in your ear as he stood too close, his hand brushing your hip when you reached for the elevator button.

“You look tense, angel.”

“Simon, please.”

“‘Please?’ Wow, must've been really bad today.”

He chuckles to himself, like he's so fucking funny.

You rub your eyes, the tired dryness a reminder of the day you'd had. He sees this as an invitation to step behind you and wrap his arms around you. Large frame towering over you, long arms sliding around you.

“Not in the mood for this today, Simon.”

You mutter, void of its usual bite.

You don't even have the energy to push him away when he plants a kiss on the side of your neck, softer than the last time his lips touched your skin.

“So sweet when you're tired out. Wonder if you're like this after-”

The elevator dings and you pull away, pushing his head off your shoulder and trudging to your place. At this point, you're too drained to care about his games, too tired to rise to the bait.

If he wasn't going to stop playing, wasn't going to do anything but pussyfoot around, you had better things to do—like collapse on your bed and sleep for 12 hours straight.

You reach your door and fumble with your keys, cursing under your breath when they decide now is the perfect time to be elusive in your bag.

“Need help?”

You don’t jump. You’re too used to that voice coming from behind you, low and amused. His words echo in your head more than you’d like to admit these days.

“No.”

You say, sharp enough to bite through the air as you finally fish the keys out and shove one into the lock.

It sticks. Of course, it sticks.

He says something you ignore while he leans against the side of the doorframe, watching you struggle. Your head lands on the door with a soft thud, forehead pressing against the cool metal.

“You’ve been quiet tonight. Not like you to let me have the last word.”

“I’m too tired for this.”

“For what?”

“For your bullshit.”

You spit, jiggling the key rougher than necessary.

Simon hums, entertained.

“There she is. Was worried I lost you for a minute.”

The key refuses to turn. Between him looking over your shoulder and the fucking door mocking you, your patience starts to shred, gossamer-thin.

When the door finally opens, you turn to him.

“Do you ever shut up?”

He shrugs.

“Not when I’m having this much fun.”

“You call this fun?”

“Watching you fight with a door? Yeah, a little bit. Had my money on the door though, unfortunately.”

You swear his grin is almost audible under that mask.

Your eyes narrow, heated.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be?”

He doesn't miss a beat.

“No, actually. Not tonight.”

“Of course not, when do you ever?”

You mutter, yanking your keys out of the lock.

“Just keeping the schedule free for you, love.”

“Free to annoy me?”

“Something like that.”

Your eyes drift from his face down to his arms crossed over his chest. His compression shirt doesn't help, the material stretching in a way that feels obscene.

Then while he watches you stare, he flexes subtly.

It pulls a laugh out of you, the sound slipping out before you can help it,

“Whore.”

He pulls his mask down, showing off his own smile. His canines sharp and slightly crooked, but somehow it makes him more attractive. Like he doesn't just accept his imperfections, but wears them proudly, fully aware of their charm.

“Just for you, angel.”

“Your persistence is coming off pathetic.”

You huff half-hearted, crossing your arms.

“Doesn't seem to bother you much.”

Simon goads. You think this is the happiest you've ever seen him.

“It does.”

You lick your teeth, feigning irritation. He mirrors the movement, finishing it off with a smile that makes your face hot.

“Go on then,”

His voice drops lower, thick and languid, molasses poured slow on a hot day.

“Tell me how you really feel.”

It's quiet for a moment. He tilts his head, eyes glinting and the edge you've been teetering on crumbles underneath you, all reservations and restraint gone. You grip the strings of his hoodie and pull him down to your face.

“You're insufferable.”

“Yes.”

“A tease.”

“Mhm.”

“Worst neighbor I've ever had.”

“Ouch.”

He says, though his tone is anything but wounded. If anything, it sounds downright gleeful.

“Makes me wanna do awful things to you.”

You say in a hushed tone, a newfound energy pumping through your veins. The space between you grows smaller as you tug him even closer, his hands instinctively finding your waist, steadying both of you.

“Yeah,”

His voice is low, molten. A scorching heat that flows from his mouth down your chest and stomach.

“Probably use those pretty little hands, leave marks. Bruises I'd feel every time I breathe.”

You twirl the strings around your fingers, leading him into your place. It feels like tugging on a leash tied to a dangerous dog— wild and unpredictable, tethered to you and you only. He catches the door before it slams shut, closing it without looking, dark eyes honed in on you. Makes your stomach do flips.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

His silence is answer enough, a smirk playing on his face. You muse, shoving him toward the couch with a playful push,

“Maybe I'd keep it simple, knife to the heart. If I could find it.”

He spreads out on the cushions, pulling you to him, making you straddle one of his thick thighs.

“Sounds painful, tell me more.”

“Maybe I'd tie you up. Make you beg for your life.”

When you say that, he groans— an honest-to-god groan and his grip on your hips tightens.

“It’d be hard, getting through all that muscle and bone,”

He grabs your wrist, making you press two fingers on the hard, fast pulse right under his jaw.

“Be quicker and easier to hit it right here. Faster way to go out.”

You cock your head to the side, biting back a moan feeling the beat of the vein under his skin go impossibly fast when you hum.

“Think I'm gonna go easy on you?”

His response is instant, almost desperate if you thought he was capable of that emotion.

“I hope to God not.”

He wraps himself around you, pressing you up against his solid frame like he's trying to meld his body to yours.

***

He's been at this for long, too long. He hasn't even taken off either of your pants, all too happy to have you grinding your pants against his denim. It's got you so pent up, you're half crazed, panting in the crook of his neck and mumbling pleas for relief.

“Want you, Simon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head and you groan in frustration.

“Been a real brat lately, can't reward that kind of behavior.”

“Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Sound so pretty, begging for me.”

You're trying anything at this point. Anything but ripping his clothes off. Or yours.

“Don't you wanna feel good too?”

Your tone is so dulcet, it's almost too sweet in your mouth, words dripping with a carefully calculated innocence. You play with the waistband of his jeans, before you can get too far he takes hold of your wrist.

“I know what you're trying to do.”

There's a pause while you pull back to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Is it working?”

“Hmm…”

“Simon!”

You huff, almost whiny. He relents, only a little, bouncing you on his thigh once before forcing your hips to grind down harder on him. It makes you lean into him again, he presses a soft kiss on your temple, the kind of gesture that feels almost like he's mocking you with a false sense of soothing. As if he feels bad for you—his touch gentle but somehow condescending.

“Poor thing, could've gotten it sooner if you wanted to. Closed mouths don't get fed, you know?”

He sounds amused, lips still brushing against your temple. Your mouth finds its way to his neck, he lulls his head back, giving you more access to it. It's sweet, tender, starting at his collarbone and moving up slowly until you get to the artery he made you press up against earlier. The moment your teeth press up against it, he comes undone.

“Gaggin’ for it that bad?”

The sound of his belt clicking makes you downright giddy, you lick his neck, feeling his heartbeat under your tongue.

“Mhm…”

He grabs your hand to shove it down his pants and your brain goes static for a moment.

“Had me waiting all this time, and now you want it?”

It's growled into your ear, something about the way it's almost spat out, mean—it sends jolts of electricity between your legs.

“C'mon, show me how much you missed it.”

Your face heats up at his words and he lets out an entertained huff.

“He missed you too, ya know.”

A breathless giggle escapes you when he flexes, making his dick jump in your hands. You pull him out of his pants, eyes going wide. You've felt how big he was before, but seeing it was a whole different thing. Made it all real. Something about the way his pink tip peeked out made you laugh a little, a fleeting thought of him blushing everywhere, even on his dick.

“What?”

He furrows his brows a little, curious.

The truth tumbles out of you before you can stop it. You think you've made a mistake until you see him. His face is unreadable at first, and you brace for some sharp quip or a look of annoyance.

But instead, Simon’s reaction is… different. His ears go pink first, followed by a deep flush creeping up his neck. You want to laugh again but he creeps a hand up your spine to the back of your neck, guiding you into light kisses. You still manage to slip out a few giggles in-between, a smile creeping up across his face. It's such a warm moment, you almost forget about holding him until he twitches in your hands.

“Got the prettiest laugh.”

“Is there anything that you don't think is pretty about me?”

You ask, teasing him.

“No.”

His answer is quick, unwavering, and so serious that it makes your breath catch. You search his face, expecting the usual smirk or a sly remark, but there’s nothing there but honesty. He clears his throat, the faintest flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes before he tries to mask it.

“Right, let's get these off.”

He guides you off him so you can stand, he shimmies your pants and underwear off. Once you kick off the fabric pooled around your feet he leans forward, breath hot on your mons.

“Missed her.”

He says so quietly, almost to himself.

“Your pretty girl?”

You run a hand over his buzz cut, and he grips the sides of your bare thighs.

“Yeah…my pretty girl.”

A wet kiss on your most sensitive spot makes your legs tense up. He traces slow, indulgent circles, like this was more for him than you. The tension in your body mounting with every flick of his tongue.

He goes on like this until your knees almost give way from a quick, hard suck. He holds you up with a strong grip under the crease of your ass.

“Think you can stand on your own for a minute, love?”

You’re far past the point of throwing a smart remark his way, your body humming with the tension he’s left simmering under your skin. Instead, you nod quickly, eagerly.

“So good for me, angel. How'd I get so lucky, hm?”

It’s less a question and more an indulgence, the kind of thing he says to soak in the moment while he shoves his pants down to his thighs. When he pulls you towards him, guiding you to settle on his lap, just brushing his tip over your slick entrance, you follow without hesitation—soft, pliant, docile.

“Such a sweet thing. Only for me, right?”

Before you get to answer, he drags your hips down, pushing himself inside you. The stretch borders on discomfort—not just because it's been a while, but because he's thicker than anyone you've ever had before.

It's all so overwhelming— his voice, his touch, his body—all glut and heavy with want. The weight of it crashes over you, leaving you dizzy, untethered. Every word he speaks seeps into your skin, warm and lingering, while his hands, firm yet reverent, treat you like something both fragile and fiercely desired.

When he slides you down more, you tense up. Thighs flexing, clenching around him. It draws a curse from him,

“Fuck…yeah, only for me.”

The moment is so much softer than you imagined it to be—aside from him trying to lick the inside of your mouth. It's coos and words of encouragement,

“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,”

“Bet you needed this as much as I did,”

Big, rough hands gliding up and down your body, squeezing gently. Slow, deep strokes sink into you until you're a shaking mess, arms wrapped around him, clinging onto him like he's your lifeline, mumbling nonsense into his neck. He's taking full advantage of the moment, of course, his voice low and dripping with amusement as he watches you come undone for him.

"Gonna be like this all the time now, pet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Only like this for me, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You whisper, the words spilling out as easily as your control.

“No one else gets to touch you like this, huh?”

“Uhn-uh.”

Your lips brushing against his neck, your heartbeat hammering against his chest, sweat slick against the skin.

And it goes on like this, making empty promises with the devil. Signing yourself away with no hesitation, no second thoughts. Because he kisses you so tenderly it makes you flutter everywhere. Because the way he lifts you up just to buck his hips up into you makes your brain leak out of your ears. Because here, pressed against him, drowning in his voice and touch, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

He hits that spot that makes your nerves taught. You're a string wound up too tight, his name spilling from your mouth again and again, each time more ragged, a little more whiny and desperate, until it finally snaps. You shatter, the force knocking the air from your lungs while he throws his head back, your name leaking out like it's the only word he knows. You're overstimulated, thighs burning and shaking while he ruts into you. You're pushing him with flimsy arms, whining about how ‘it's too much’. That only seems to egg him on, though, spurring him to murmur filth between honeyed kisses,

“Gonna ruin you for anyone else,”

“Split you apart everyday and you'll fucking thank me for it, won't you?”

He doesn't even look for an answer from you, more than happy to bask in the mess he made of you. A few more strokes has him choking mid-sentence, sinking so deep inside you think he might've been serious about splitting you apart.

It's quiet for a moment, save for the heavy breaths shared between the two of you

“You with me, angel?”

He sighs, his lips press against the skin right over your heart. He lingers, sucking softly, the kind of pressure that's going to leave the skin tender for days—a reminder of him.

You nod, barely able to find your voice, but he waits-patient, his hands wrapping around yours.

"Yeah…”

You finally manage, squeezing a hand that completely engulfs yours, brushing against it with your thumb.

"Good,"

He whispers, his lips brushing against yours again.

"That's all I need.”

And in the back of your mind, as his touch lingers, there's a small fleeting thought:

Oh, you're fucked.

prev |

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 11

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I am going on a little vacay and I'll probably won't be able to update it as regurlarly, but I'm going to try and schedule this chapter and another one. Good news is more time to write :D

A.N. 2: Apparently the tags have not been wroking. If you asked to be tagged and haven't been, let me know!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

It was the morning of the day after Viktor had come to the penthouse and taken a twelve-hour power nap. 

You walked into the kitchen with a yawn that stopped abruptly when you saw the three people in the room. Two of its usual occupants: your mother, Wyllah, but also a very tired Jayce. Your eyes shifted between your mother and the tanned man on the table, hunching sheepishly as he sipped from a mug filled with coffee to the brim.

“Jayce?” Your tone is a mix between a welcome and a question, not even bothering to call him by his title.

He mumbled his reply, and you looked back at your mother and Wyllah. They both gave a sad smile and a shrug.

“You left the lab.” You began, trying to get him to talk, and he nodded. 

His hair was unkempt, and his beard was starting to emerge, meaning he probably had not even been home yet.

“I needed to find Viktor.” He said, not looking up from the mug. “Your mother found me halfway out of the Academy.”

“I left one of my security guards at the lab door,” Wyllah explained proudly. “No one is getting in unless we say so.”

“Thank you.” Jayce said, still looking at his reflection.

“Did you two argue?” You asked, knowing the answer.

Viktor would have never just walked out of the lab, leaving his best friend behind, and Jayce wouldn’t look half as dejected if they had parted ways amicably. Although Viktor had probably already gotten over the argument, Jayce liked to mull over it. 

“How…?” he asked. “Wild guess…” you answered.

He sighed, putting his head on his head, finger digging into his unkempt hair.

“What was it about?” You inquired, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, even though you could also guess the subject.

“What do you think?” He snapped, and you sat down in front of him at the booth, grabbing a cookie from the plate one of the older women had placed on the table.

“The great mystery of Runeterra.” You grinned, and he just stared at you, eyes narrowed. “I know it was about the council shenanigans, but what was it specifically about? Gods know you two can fight about a fleck of dust in the window.”

Jayce looked at you and was about to retort but closed his mouth and looked at his coffee before sighing and reopening his mouth.

“I told him I want to give the Hextech freely to the council in exchange for keeping us there as engineers for it, no matter what. I would rather be there to stop them from screwing up than have it destroyed or sold to someone else.” He sighed. “Viktor would rather grab everything and run as far as he can to keep it safe.”

You smiled softly at him gently and touched his white-knuckled hand on the mug. He relaxed his grip and looked at you.

“You can both be right, you know.” “I know, but it’s not that I want to be right… It’s just…” he scoffed, frustrated, looking at the window. “He has stood up for so long, taken so many beatings from topside, kept a straight face throughout everything we’ve ever been through; he has made his mark in this world whether he signs on it or not… And now he wants to run? It feels like a step backward.”

“You both know what hunger feels like, what a wind so cold that seeps through your clothes feels like in your bones. You both know how it is to have nothing and then have everything.” Jayce looked at you both confused and interested. “The difference is Tallis; he knows what happens when you just wait and watch. You get eaten by the big fish eventually. He stood up so many other times because he knew you’d have his back. But right now both your backs are against the wall, and there will be no sorcerer to help you escape the storm.”

There was silence in the kitchen as Jayce searched your eyes for answers all the while trying to assimilate what you said about Viktor.

“How…?” He asked again. “Your past and my present aren’t that different.” 

His eyes widened for a second, and he was about to start talking again when you shook your head.

“Discussion for another time and place.” 

He nodded, still reeling but quieted down when the telltale sounds of a cane making its way to the kitchen were heard.

“What do I say?” “Nothing…” you whispered back. “He is your friend Jay. He understands the same way you do…deep down…”

Viktor was also stifling a yawn as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping mid-stride just as you did when he saw the other man in the kitchen. 

“Jayce?” He puzzled, eyes still blinking the sleep away. “Hey, buddy! You got me worried there for a second.” Jayce got up from the table and walked towards him, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen…I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

Viktor blinked a couple of times and gave him a nod and a smile.

“Do not worry, Jayce. I understand.” He patted the bigger man’s arm and limped to the small breakfast nook, where you sat.

“Thank you, Madame Rainemour, for the hospitality.” He smiled at your mother, and she smiled back. “I don’t think I had any say in it this time, but you're welcome, my dear.”

He shifted his eyes to you, and you shrugged.

“You looked like exhaustion and tiredness had a child and left it out in the rain.” You paused and raised an eyebrow, conveying you were joking. “No offense…”

“None taken.” He smirked and grabbed a cookie from the plate.

“Well,” your mother clapped, and everyone’s eyes turned to her, you noticing a small grin on Wyllah’s face. “Since everyone is now sort of awake and looking less dejected…I have a plan…” “A plan?” Jayce asked, leaning against the door frame. “A plan.” Wyllah repeated. “Should I be scared?” Viktor asked, and both older women shook their heads in sync. “That makes me scared.” “Alright, you two... out with it...” You motioned with your head for the ladies to sit and talk.

Your mother started to explain what she had been doing yesterday after she left you and Viktor. Esther had put on her detective’s hat and gone to investigate the ins and outs of whatever was happening with the Hextech vs. Council situation.

She found that the council was going to make the decision to take control of Talis Lab and Hextech in a week or so, with Councilor Salo spearheading the efforts, being the one that seemingly had lost more in the rocket attack.

He had announced to all of those who wanted to hear him about the dangers of the usage of hextech by those who wanted the worst for Piltover. The topsiders had clutched their pearls and agreed he was right and that the council, the voice of all citizens of Piltover, needed to seize control of the tech.

Jayce bonked his forehead on the door frame where he was leaning, and Viktor rolled his eyes.

“I’m starting to see the beauty of him as a stain on the hex gate’s floor…” you mumbled, munching on a cookie. Viktor looked at you questioningly, and you shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do not despair, my dears; as I’ve noted, I have a plan.”

Between her and Wyllah, the plan was laid out in front of the three of you. Your mother would rally up all of the investors and get them to stop the tech from falling into the council’s hands. It seemed simple and very straightforward, but knowing the Topsiders, there will be money exchange and drama and fights. Something your mother seemed very willing to do.

Both of the scientists had nodded in agreement to whatever your mother had put on the table, and you realized how much trust they all had in each other. The universe had to find a way to make up for you not being here. It had put your mother in their path so they could have her instead of you. It hurt as much as it elated you. 

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Viktor asked, breaking a cookie in half. “Well, we will need Jayce’s assistance.” Esther pointed at the broader man. “His place as a councillor and one part of the Hextech team will help us get to certain people. But I don’t think that would be your cup of tea, so you can keep securing the lab and the projects, making sure nothing ends up being shown to prying eyes.” “Are they allowing us to work?” Viktor asked Jayce. “No. No hextech projects are allowed to go forth.” Both men sighed. “I’ll stay in the lab with Viktor. I don’t want to get mixed up in that crowd again…” “Again?” Jayce raised his eyebrows, and you matched the expression.

After a while of discussing and more planning, between calculation and scheduling, your head was about to burst, so you excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked to the living room. You sat on the chair that wasn’t Viktor’s favorite place on earth and, drowning out the noise from the kitchen, felt the sunshine on your face.

You jumped at Jayce’s voice calling your name right next to you.

“Holy blue balls of Hextech.” You mumbled, putting your hands on your heart and leaning back on the chair. “Oh, so that’s where it comes from…” Jayce joked. “Sorry…” “Don’t worry about it.” You looked up at him, leaning your elbows into your knees.

“About that thing you said before.” Jayce took a deep breath. “I never told that to anyone but Viktor, and I know he would never tell anyone…” “Like I said, your past is my present. I was snapped here the same way you were.” “Yeah, I got it the first time. I’m as smart as the other co-creator of Hextech, believe it or not.” He grinned. “How? I have searched and researched high and low to figure out why it happened to me, and I never found the answers. Did he appear to you too? The mage? Did some runes in the sky and…new place, new you?”

You shook your head and looked at your hands. He was taking this considerably well, which made sense since he had also lived through something similar.

“I don’t know how it happened; I was there one second and here the next.” “That’s why you ran to the council room; you did know what was gonna happen.” He frowned, his eyes searching the air for connections. “Were you in the council room? Or in the Undercity?”

“I was in the lab when it happened. All was quiet, and then…boom…”  “What changed?” Jayce asked, and you shook your head. “I’m not going to tell you. Not all of the details. You…from there…lived it��you felt it…If I tell you, it might make you do something that would lead to the same path, and…I can’t go through that again.”

He nodded, understanding that the addition of knowledge to a situation can drastically change the outcome. You looked at his wrist, the leather band secured tightly around it and the teardrop-shaped gem encased in it. Stretching your arm, you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. The rune was different. 

Jayce also grabbed your hand and turned it palm up. A different rune was carved there, not glowing since you had spent most of the night remaking the star rune in case Viktor woke up. You looked up at him and sighed, his eyes searching for answers.

“I think the technical term is Rune Speaker…” You smiled at him, finding amazement in his eyes.

• ············ •

It didn’t take the group long to have a sort of guarding schedule around keeping the stuff in the lab from prying eyes. Because it was involved in council business, the boys couldn’t work there, but they refused to leave anything unsupervised. And that’s why they had looked like exhaustion itself.

Between the two of them, yourself and some of Wyllah's personal security, it was manageable, although Salo had shaken his fist at having the unknown guards at the door. To which your mother promptly told him she had more money invested in that lab than he could count; she was merely securing her investment.

Your endeavor to enter the orchestra was still in full swing, so you took the time at the lab to write out some of the music you were composing. You had an outline of the piece, but it needed tweaking and cleaning up.

You were not a composer. You hated writing your music. It felt strained. You’d rather just sit at the piano and play something from the top of your head. You were good at that. This was hell for you.

Groaning, you laid your forehead on the cold lab table and groaned. A hand patted your arm, and instinctively you jumped back as far as you could.

“Eh. It’s just me, good old Viktor.” the scientist announced, limping around you and placing a cup of tea and something wrapped in a cloth on the table. “One of those days, huh?”

He sat down next to you and peered at what you were doing. 

“Looks complicated.” He said, taking a book out of his shoulder bag, and you look at him sideways, glaring at the man. You pointed to the chalkboard that now has a sheet covering it and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen what you do…” you mumbled. “Numbers. I crunch numbers. Calculation and variants. It’s easy. I see them in my mind. Some are more complicated than others, but… It’s easy. This…?” He touched the clean sheet of music and made a negative sound with his throat. “Cannot comprehend.”

“Remind me to teach you the scale at some point. My mother is catching on pretty quickly. I fear she might get the position faster than me.” “Position?”  “I’m trying for the orchestra. I’ve learned that being a stay-at-home Piltie is not for me.” “Piltie?” He frowned at the nickname the Zaunites gave the topsiders. “How very uncivilized of you.” 

You both chuckled at his joke, and he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manner. He mentioned the wrapped thing with his chin, and you grabbed it. A small little cake was inside. A round little creamy thing with a slice of strawberry on top.

“Don’t expect much.” He said, opening his book. “It’s from the Academy’s cafe.”

You took a bite out of it. It was a little dry, but it was sugar, and you welcomed the feeling of something sweet in these desperate times.

“Where's Jayce?” You asked after you finished with the pastry. “I thought he was supposed to come with you.”

Viktor took a sip of his cup of tea and shook his head, rolling his eyes in the process.

“Councilor Medarda asked to see him.” He scoffed. “Confraternizing with the enemy, more like it.” “Spending time with his significant other.” you corrected, smiling when he made a ‘yeah yeah’ face.

Silent took over the lab while the two of you both got entranced by your tasks; only the scratching of pens on paper was heard. It was a friendly silence, with both of you sitting close enough that your knees would bump occasionally. Sometimes you would hum the melody you were writing, and he would stop writing to listen to it.

After a while Viktor stretched, moving his arms up to the ceiling. You looked at him and mimicked the movement but stretched your arms in front of you. The two loud ‘aahs’ of pleasure came from both of you in sync, making you both snort.

“I have been thinking…” Viktor began relaxing on the table, his shoulder hunching over. “The other day, you kept having to remake the rune.”

“You noticed?” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I thought you were sleeping.” “I caught you once or twice. It was a nice gesture, so I kept quiet. In any case, you had to keep redoing it. And well, we have had the same problem with the cores.”

“Vik…” you warned, but he raised his hand, stopping you.

“I know, but technically I am not using your magic for Hextech; I’m using Hextech for your magic. We solved that problem by introducing an artificial rune to the process.” He drew two squares touching on one corner, a crude infinity symbol. “That sustains the power of the core indefinitely. If we work at this the same way we work with Hexcore, your rune ‘push’ simply means you have no other inputs to add to it, and that means that inputs can be added.”

You remembered the rune circle in the council chambers. Going by what Viktor was saying, it made sense; the magic didn’t happen until you had pushed it forward, waiting until you finished the whole rune circle to work and slamming your hand on it to work.

“Could work, but if you tell it to keep going indefinitely, how do we stop it?“ You looked back at him and saw him scratch his neck.

“Usually we have buttons and dials…sometimes an emergency lever.”He placed his head on his hands and looked around for inspiration to strike.

You looked down at your music sheet and rolled your eyes. The answer was right in front of you. You slid the music sheet towards him.

“When you want to bring your composition to an end, you add this…” You pointed to a circle enclosing a crosshair.

“The runes are a language, and languages are fluid. New words are being introduced every day. We can keep adding to it until it works…” Viktor continued excitedly. “We have to test this theory.”

“I’m not going to test something that has a possibility of permanently staying in your lab. I don’t think a never-ending whirlwind is very discreet.” 

His shoulders slumped for a second, and then he pointed to a small door next to the front door. That was a cleaning supply room spacious enough for the janitor to keep his cart there, but it was closed off so that if something were to happen in there, it would be contained.

“Alright…Let’s test this out.” You rolled the stool away from the table and slapped your hands on your thighs, watching Viktor move with efficiency.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 7

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

more Oz references! fury of the elements, one very pissed ex, same thing.

god but how much I love rio going feral?! it's so stupid I'm giggling and kicking my feet about it. you'd think a very old, very wise being would react like a grown ass adult after a breakup, especially because it was such a long time coming. but does rio go home to process things quietly? noooooooo she summons a whole storm and sits on a roof waiting for agatha to come out of her basement, so she can be an ass about it. if they were humans rio would be slashing agatha's tires and smashing windows and throwing rotten eggs at her house drunk at three in the morning, and you know what? good for her!!! she's been fucking trying to work out things in a mature responsible way, and it was never going to work, agatha was never going to grow up. so fuck it. agatha wants to be immature? we'll show her immature! I support my girl going full petty and unhinged, let her cry and scream and eat a whole ice cream tub and then throw it all up, let her piss all over agathas' rhododendrons, my girl has earned it.

AND she's brought her favorite soul-reaping orchid with her! she's like, I'm gonna do it! this time I'm gonna getcha! I will drag your ungrateful ass to our son kicking and screaming if I have to!!!!

...girl. we both know you ain't. like agatha is literally about to die and you still won't reap that soul without her consent. absolute loser behavior.

and agatha... well, agatha never backed off from an immaturity showdown. oooh she's gonna out-toddler you for sure.

but it's so interesting that the Road didn't give her her powers back. tbh I don't think she ever lost her powers at all, seeing as she's first and foremost a succubus and that power works just fine, if alice's fate is any indication. it's more like, three years under the spell completely drained her battery and she desperately needs to feed.

and agatha wasn't planning on joining the Road at all, as far as she was concerned it didn't even exist. like with lilia, jen and alice the Road gave her not what she asked, but what she needed all along: her prize was that moment of closure with nicky

so rio cannot kill people, she can only make them wish they were dead, and I just realized, her special talent is also being fucking annoying, just like agatha

by the way, rewatching wandavision I realized that his name is JOHN, not herb! I'm so sorry I've been calling you the wrong name this whole time, my guy. ALSO MOVE OUT OF THAT NEIGHBORHOOD DEAR LORD

same goes for you two. harold you have a daughter!

(omg a literal harold, they're lesbians.)

agatha sees the fire moon and it reminds her of alice. she draws a circle for the expelle hoc malum protection spell she's learned from her. she had a coven only for a day and look how much they've gotten under her skin.

rio gives an incredulous sigh. are you calling me "evil"? it's like, we've been over this!

I know that baby and I love you, but also you're very much sitting on a rooftop cackling like a maniac. how can these two be both so tragic and so so fucking ridiculous at the same time.

it's like, she's absolutely right, she's no villain and she's no demon, agatha should stop treating her like one and punishing her for it. but also... stop begging her to, for fuck's sake. rio, my love, have some dignity. stop chasing. you did a dramatic exit half an hour ago, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE

agatha trying to exorcise her ex wife with a spell: clownass behavior.

rio blowing the circle away with a kiss: also clownass behavior.

but is she wrong????

lilia's turn to come in handy!

I'm sorry but... a whole sink? she threw a whole sink at her head?? this scene is so fucking hilarious, like I know some people found rio ooc but to me it makes perfect sense. I'm just sorry she didn't throw a toilet.

GO HOME, RIO. it's okay, we're gonna put up a picture of agatha in your living room and throw poop at it until you feel better or smth, it's gonna be okay, you let it all out.

^^literally rio

jen's moment: vulnus ab aqua curare.

I don't think it's going to help you much though, babe. remember when agatha kept poking wanda with a stick and got her ass kicked to oblivion in return? she's been poking DEATH for two hundred years. what did she expect???!?!

THAT IS THE HOTTEST SOMEONE HAS EVER LOOKED, DEAR LORD

and considering that rio chooses an outfit for each soul she reaps: this is what she chose for agatha??? girl, be for real!!!

aaaand she gets kicked into a wall a moment later. after her devastating sexy ass walk with the high slit dress and all. complete loser behavior.

(also hilarious: agatha's laundry hanging there the whole time)

billy came back to save agatha (awww) but not before conjuring a cool wiccan costume and doing a very dramatic entrance (awwwwwwww). literally her son.

I agree tbh

agatha's face when she realizes billy is choosing to give her magic: this is the first time someone does it willingly. and sure he is super powerful (she drained poor alice in a second), but I keep imagining a world were agatha is an important, cherished member of a community, maybe playing the vital role of teacher and knowledge keeper, and the community willingly donates magic in return, all together and on a regular basis, like people donate blood, so that no one dies and she doesn't starve.

look at how the beam changes color, and just how happy she is to finally eat. it's just the way she was born, you know? I hate that evanora turned it into something horrible when it didn't need to.

oh god, that stupid outfit again. that is agatha's "I'm such a scary merciless bitch and I don't care about your feelings" outfit. as if.

and then she realizes she's killing billy. look at her face, a moment ago she even said how good all this power feels. she could easily take it all. but of course for billy she has to stop.

so, can agatha actually control her powers? well, it's complicated, isn't it? she definitely couldn't when she was very young. possibly she never sought to learn how to as time went on.

(thank you for your patience, everyone, I'll update more regularly from now on. and you all know what happens next entry.)

go to episode 8 part 8

[nemesyaaa]

i'm not a fan of Taylor Swift not gonna lie but the way your work make me want to listen to the song in question is concerning...like omg i need to go through the lyrics because it was written with beauty and angst. its really doing something to me. i loved it, nini <33 (so much. ) 🥹‼️

your chest heaved as you felt rafe sliding in and out your walls, your arms gripping onto his back for support. he was relentless, soft grunts fill your ears. he takes your hands in his, intertwining fingers as the car moved with every thrust. he lets go for a second, brushing a stray piece of hair that moved onto your face, a soft smile placed on his lips. — you can't write smut and make me want to kms just after that....����😭😭

he kissed down your neck and torso, kneading your breasts, sucking on your already hardened nipples. he moans, sending vibrations throughout your body. your hands find his hair, pulling on his dark blond locks. he whimpers, pushing his lips onto yours, taking you by surprise. — rafe's moaning ‼️‼️‼️‼️

a moment of silence emerges from the both of you. “…i’m not…I…I forgave rafe. a long time ago, mom.” a shadow of a smile graces her face, “good, that’s good. i’ll be seeing you more often then—” “no, you don’t understand, I just…me and rafe…I don’t know if its just me, but, whenever I get out of this town, I feel so…free from him. and then I come back home, something in the air shifts. it feels like…I still belong to him. like he’s behind me, breathing down my neck. I feel trapped here.” she sighs, putting down her coffee mug on the table, wrapping her arms around you. “i’m sorry honey,” she takes another deep breath, “are you sure you’ve really forgiven him?” “i’m not, that’s the thing.” she nods, standing up. “I understand, take all the time you need to sort your feelings. I know you’re not telling me the whole story, so i’ll wait until you’re ready.” she grabs her coffee mug, walking to her bedroom. you look down, seeing a tear drop melt into your hot chocolate. — I just took the whole paragraph because i adored the lines especially the one who started with “ no you don't understand ” | also I TRULY understand what reader's feel so it's even hard for me 😔😔

“rafe, it was a mistake, we should’ve…I should’ve never slept with you. I was so close, so close to escaping from you—” “that’s too bad, y/n. you knew damn well what you were doing,” he bends his knees to your level, whispering in your ear, “and you liked it. I know you did. I know you missed feeling me in you.” your breath hitched, and he pulls away, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “and you liked when I did this to you, no?” he softly chuckles, “yeah, I haven’t forgotten what you liked…haven’t…stopped thinking about you at all, honestly.” — god, he's so toxic. and i like poison...

“i’ll see you next year, yeah?” rafe says, turning around and getting in his car. — i hate it (just like I hate him). 😙😙 But i feel like it's a realistic end so it's perfect

‘tis the damn season - rafe cameron x reader

summary - hooking up with your hometown ex boyfriend should’ve never happened, but it did.

warnings - smut, mdni, piv, car sex, angst, implications of a toxic relationship, not proofread, still not the best at smut i fear.

your chest heaved as you felt rafe sliding in and out your walls, your arms gripping onto his back for support. he was relentless, soft grunts fill your ears. he takes your hands in his, intertwining fingers as the car moved with every thrust. he lets go for a second, brushing a stray piece of hair that moved onto your face, a soft smile placed on his lips.

he kissed down your neck and torso, kneading your breasts, sucking on your already hardened nipples. he moans, sending vibrations throughout your body. your hands find his hair, pulling on his dark blond locks. he whimpers, pushing his lips onto yours, taking you by surprise.

he snakes his hand around your waist, maneuvering you to go on top of him. the moonlight hits his face just right; this must’ve been how he saw you earlier, eyes hooded, mouth slightly agape, and head tilted back.

your body felt colder from the air, but you felt so warm on the inside. you felt a pair of rough hands place themselves on your hips, guiding you to move up and down. “you can do it, I know you can.” he praises, thrusting up to help you. he hits deep, and hard. you mewl, wanting him to do all the work. “‘m not gonna let you go if you don’t put in the effort, baby. c’mon, ‘m almost there, I know you are too,” he rasps, gripping your hips roughly. you gulp, moving up and down feverishly. “that’s it, doin’ so well for me, huh? letting me lay back, while I get to look at your pretty face. I know, I know, I can feel you tensin’ up, let go when you need to. i’m here, i’ll always be here.”

that last sentence runs a shiver down your spine. before you know it, rafe is spilling inside you, providing you extra warmth. you collapse on his chest, sighing blissfully.

“you should visit more often, not just come by during the holidays,” your mother softly speaks up, handing you a cup of hot chocolate. “I know, but you know why I can’t.” you sigh, taking a small sip. “y/n, you can’t still be hung up on him,” she sits down on the couch with you, “listen, I know rafe doesn’t really give you fond memories, but you’ve gotta let go. you grew up here, this is your home. no matter where you go, I hope you always find your way back to us.”

a moment of silence emerges from the both of you. “…i’m not…I…I forgave rafe. a long time ago, mom.” a shadow of a smile graces her face, “good, that’s good. i’ll be seeing you more often then—” “no, you don’t understand, I just…me and rafe…I don’t know if its just me, but, whenever I get out of this town, I feel so…free from him. and then I come back home, something in the air shifts. it feels like…I still belong to him. like he’s behind me, breathing down my neck. I feel trapped here.” she sighs, putting down her coffee mug on the table, wrapping her arms around you. “i’m sorry honey,” she takes another deep breath, “are you sure you’ve really forgiven him?” “i’m not, that’s the thing.” she nods, standing up. “I understand, take all the time you need to sort your feelings. I know you’re not telling me the whole story, so i’ll wait until you’re ready.” she grabs her coffee mug, walking to her bedroom. you look down, seeing a tear drop melt into your hot chocolate.

“are you really gonna do this to me?” rafe’s deep voice emerges from behind you. you turn around, and he has a slight smirk plastered on his smug face, a complete juxtaposition of what he looked like a couple nights back. you see your breath; and his too, not even when breathing you can get away from him. he owns every part of you.

“rafe, it was a mistake, we should’ve…I should’ve never slept with you. I was so close, so close to escaping from you—” “that’s too bad, y/n. you knew damn well what you were doing,” he bends his knees to your level, whispering in your ear, “and you liked it. I know you did. I know you missed feeling me in you.” your breath hitched, and he pulls away, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “and you liked when I did this to you, no?” he softly chuckles, “yeah, I haven’t forgotten what you liked…haven’t…stopped thinking about you at all, honestly.”

“well you should” you try to sass back, but he just tsks, shaking his head, “why should I? you clearly haven’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“i’ll see you next year, yeah?” rafe says, turning around and getting in his car.

taglist - @nemesyaaa @julie123456897 @mfdoomdickrider @grxnde-dwt @littlelamy @rafeeekam @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[woozinhos]

thinking about how dino is fucking you in the right places hitting the spots and placing his palm on your lower belly, asking if you can feel him in your guts 😵‍💫 i feel like he would absolutely do that whilst smirking and being all cocky at how cock drunk you are

Anon I had to stop what I was writing and I had to write this oh my god I hope you enjoy 🤭

Dino grins down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of smugness and satisfaction as he continues to thrust into you. He knows exactly what he's doing, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars with every movement. He reaches down and places his palm flat against your lower belly, feeling the way his cock is moving inside you.

"Can you feel me, baby?" he asks, his voice low and teasing. "Can you feel me deep inside you?"

You can only nod in response, your words failing you as pleasure washes over you in waves. He smirks at your reaction, his hand pressing down slightly as if to emphasize the feeling.

"Good," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you to feel every inch of me, to feel how I'm claiming you from the inside out."

He shifts his position slightly, angling his hips to hit even deeper inside you. He can feel your body responding to him, the way your muscles clench and tighten around him with every thrust.

"You're so tight," he groans, his hand still on your lower belly. "So hot and wet for me."

His fingers trace the outline of his cock on your lower belly, feeling the way it moves in and out of you with each thrust.

"Fuck," he mutters, his eyes fixed on the sight. "You look so damn good like this, all filled up with me."

He continues to watch, his eyes filled with a mixture of possessiveness and desire.

"I love seeing you like this," he murmurs, his hand still tracing patterns on your skin. "All mine, all spread out for me."

He can't help but smirk at the look on your face, your eyes glazed over with pleasure and your expression completely blissed out.

"You're so cock drunk for me," he says, his voice low and amused. "It's so damn hot."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're completely at my mercy right now, aren't you?"

He nips at your earlobe, his hand still on your lower belly, feeling the way your body reacts to his words.

You glance down, your eyes widening as you see the outline of his cock twitching beneath his hand. He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes darkening with lust as he sees you looking.

"See what you do to me?" he growls, his hand pressing down slightly against your stomach. "You make me lose control like no one else can."

His pace becomes more erratic, his hips moving faster as he feels his own orgasm approaching.

"I'm so close," he grunts, his grip on your hip tightening as he holds you in place. "You're gonna make me come so hard."

He pulls out of you just in time, his cock slick with your juices as he takes it in his hand. With a low groan, he strokes himself a few more times before he comes, his release spilling out onto your stomach in hot spurts.

He watches as his cum lands on your skin, his chest heaving with exertion. He runs his fingers through the mess, smearing it all over your stomach as he admires the sight.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Covered in my cum, marked as mine."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Don't forget the feeling of me inside you, baby. The way I filled you up so perfectly."

He nips at your earlobe again, his hand still tracing patterns in the cum on your stomach.

"You're mine now, completely and utterly mine."

[stxrslutrestored]

LET HIM REST

pairing; s4 jj maybank x cupcake reader

summary; it's safe to say jj may have crashed out tonight, and you are the only person he can turn to. so you make it your goal to get him taken care of, and at least a little content after the turmoil of tonight

content; hand job, mommy kink, titty sucking, adjacent to s4 plot

authors note; re upload!

jj is pacing around your room, hands on the back of his head, breathing erratically. you’re sitting on your bed. his boots are loud against the wood floor which is the exact opposite of what he’s supposed to be being right now. he’s supposed to be laying low and that involves staying quiet so that anyone going past or around the house wouldn’t hear him. 

“jay.. just.. just sit down.” you sigh, trying to get him to be calm, but he doesn’t listen. he’s limping a little, only because he’d jumped off a roof after starting a whole fucking riot, not a big deal at all. 

god, if you weren’t being the responsible one here you’d burst out crying. he’s being so frustrating, you need him to be calm so you can be calm. 

“can’t— I can’t fuckin’ do this anymore!” he yells and kicks the wall, making you flinch. you need him to calm down. 

“jj.. jj please. please sit down.” you stand now, placing a hand on his arm only to be pushed away. you sigh, “jj.” the agitation in your voice is made obvious by the weary sigh you let out. 

“shit.” he kicks the wall again, it cracks a little. you’re not sure if it’s sweat or tears coating his cheeks, maybe both. 

“come here jj,” you pull him back, speaking with only a little forcefulness in your voice. “please sit down… please.. let me help you.”

he complies, though he’s still agitated and probably still ready to break something. you guide him to sit down on the bed where you were before and then you take a place next to him. you put an arm around him and rest your head on his shoulder in an act of attempted comfort for both him and you.

jj reaches a breaking point right about now, you think. now it is tears. you're certain of it as his breath becomes ragged and his body begins to shake with small sobs that he's trying ever so hard to hold back. 

“jj… oh jj dont cry.” you rub his side. you feel so much sympathy for him in this moment, his whole world has fallen apart in the last few days. there's no legitimate solution that you can offer him. the least you can do at this point is try to help him get his mind off of it. “what do you need? tell me what you need, jj.” 

he sniffles, “just.. just don’t wanna think about it okay. don’t wanna talk.” okay, you can do that, you can not talk. you press your lips into the side of his arm. he needs a distraction, you can do distraction. 

“hey… why don't i look after you for a bit… take your mind off it.” your hand goes to rest on his leg as you look up at him from where you are. his eyes are red and sore, filled with excess tears. 

he sniffles almost pitifully but he nods, realising now just how much he needs a distraction. “yeah,” his voice is breathless, from the tears and the yelling. “please.” 

your hand begins to run up his leg, stopping when it reaches the top of the zipper on his jeans. “just concentrate on me, okay. i'm gonna take real good care of you baby.” you pull it down, revealing his boxers which you also pull down by the waistband.

he exhales shakily, leaning back on his arms. you pull him out of his pants and slowly begin to work him with your hands. it doesn't take much to arouse him, despite all the turmoil, it's still jj. 

you start to jerk him off, slowly at first, you don’t want it to be over too quickly. when you’re sure he’s ready you begin to move. 

you guide him and reposition gently to have him laying down on his back, you get onto your side next to him. your hand keeps working on his dick with a practised skill.  

you don’t quite notice when his hand comes up to tug on the neck of your shirt. it takes you a moment to realise what he wants, but when you do you’re happy to comply. you pull the clothing off, revealing your tits to him. his lips part and he moved himself over to easily attach his lips to your nipple. 

“mmh.. m— ma-” he’s babbling incoherently, but it’s okay, you know what he wants to say. you’ll let him say it. 

“it’s okay baby… mama’s gonna take care of you. s’all gonna be okay.” you murmur, free hand tangling in his hair whilst you keep jerking him off. 

his whole body is reacting. his hips buck and jerk and his stomach ripples though you don’t see it through his clothes. he keeps letting out noises too, whimpers and whines, ones you know that he only lets out when he really needs to. 

you don’t care that your nipple will be sore after this, you don't care that your arm will ache from moving it like this, you don’t care that you’re not receiving an ounce of pleasure. you love this boy, you need to take care of him otherwise you’ll be good for nothing. 

jj’s hips move more, you can tell he’s approaching a much needed climax. you keep going until he cums, making a mess on the sheets and both of your clothes but you don’t care. 

“oh.. there you go.” you make sure he rides it out, and when he does you let go and bring your hand up to rub his side. 

“felt good.” he breathes out, his mouth is still not fully detached from your boob but you pay no mind, he has needs. 

“yeah.. I’m glad.. you just relax now okay.. just relax.” you stroke his head as he settles down to shut his eyes. he’s still messy but it’s okay, you’ll clean him up when he’s asleep. get him changed too, his clothes are mucked up and ripped. 

but for now, just for now, you’re going to let him rest. 

[mad-hatter-memes]

FunkyFrogBait Starters

A collection of dialogue prompts from the videos by FunkyFrogBait. Feel free to edit quotes as necessary.

TW: Swearing, threats, and suggestive references

"My fellow Caucasians astound us with their ingenuity yet again..."

"This is just an evil, evil thing to do with pasta..."

"No spaghetti for you, sir."

"I could be doing any number of things with my life, but I've chosen to share this moment with you...Don't you feel so special?"

"This feels very forbidden..."

"I don't know what this is but it's not fettucine!"

"I just scalded myself! That was uncomfortable..."

"To be clear...I would not feed this to a dog..."

"This esophagus is rated E for everything!"

"Aren't I a lucky little boy? Only 40% of these are broken!"

"Is this a complaint that I'm hearing? Spitters are quitters, [Name]."

"It's just you and me, [Name]. So...who's gonna union with you?"

"If there is a god, he has abandoned us for celestial milk and cigarettes."

"That looks like something that would leak out of an infected wound!"

"This looks like porridge was spilled on the floor of a gym locker room and left to ferment for forty days and forty nights!"

"Trying to boil Pringles to make mashed potatoes is like trying to send her flowers after she's already taken the kids."

"Hahahaha, that's really cute, how about you go fuck yourself?!"

"Being a dad seems pretty fun; All you have to do is sometimes remember their names and forget to pick them up from soccer practice. "

"Now, now, don't be hysterical, dear. This is a nearly painless procedure...For me anyways!"

"I have not been allowed around a glue gun since...The incident..."

"The caveman method usually works in my experience."

"Aw babe, your texture makes me wanna barf."

"Now the nice thing about turkey bacon is that you can eat it raw! I think..."

"This says says it serves twenty four people...They haven't met me."

"Hello, Mr. [Last Name]. I'm here to pick up your daughter."

"Please don't call the police...I know this a weird use of my free time but it's technically not illegal."

"I'm about to give myself an accidental haircut..."

"Can I just call up a priest and have him waterboard me...?"

"Whoookay...This makes me want to join a nunnery."

"Who up praying with they rosary right now?"

"STOP FINGERING EVERYTHING! I AM A CHILD OF GOD!"

"Girl, what foundation is that?! Not a pore in sight!"

"[Name], honey. You're already slaying, you don't need to slay innocent civilians."

"Where did they find this child? The Victorian Era?!"

"ASAB: Assigned Sidekick at Birth. How unfortunate..."

"Who is giving these children access to deadly weapons?! Hello?!"

"The kids like thirteen. Just throw a Roblox gift card as hard as you can and run in the opposite direction."

"[Character Name] is dead, [Muse Name]! And you're worried about the fidelity of this game to it's source material?!"

"Paint a picture for us, [Name]! Don't hold back!"

"I would've bully the fuck outta this kid. And I did musical theater!"

"Where are people getting all this Tannerite?! I want some!"

"Is the cockroach infestation required or optional?"

"I'm being manipulated by a gothic aesthetic and common sense!"

"Yikes! Don't show that to your grandma!"

"That's my heart after the hot girl in my Com Sci class tells me that our star signs are incompatible!"

"I really wouldn't talk how other people look if your eyebrows can't agree on what timezone they're in."

"Is god really rockin' with you? Sinner..."

"Let me eat my oreos in peace goddamnit!"

"I'M GONNA START POWERWASHING THE CEILING!"

"You know what crybaby fumblefingers? At this point you owe me money. Hand over twenty, pretty boy!

"Why is she beckoning me ominously...?"

"That's because you've been selected for ritual sacrifice, [Name]. You know how they are this time of the month..."

"Do you have family, [Name]? Anyone you'd be particularly devastated to lose in a violent and sudden way?"

"You know what, [Name]? I'd probably punch you over a Hot Wheels too!"

"I see god's law not as a restriction...but a challenge!"

"I am deeply dissatisfied with my life choices and I am NOT afraid to make that your problem at five o' clock in the morning!"

"I hope one of your family members is in a car accident this week!"

"It's fucking terrible and I'm overcome by a desire to kill James Corden for some reason!"

"I'm sorry...Do you think mother earth is just lactating blue raspberry surprise, bitch?!"

[feyd-meowtha]

@middlingmay's Fic Rec Questions

I saw this list and thought it would be fun to give it a go!!

1) Fic that's made you laugh the most

He May Be The Reason by @c-goldthorn. It's a Clegan Notting Hill au and it makes me squeal with delight. So cute that I got distracted while reading it and missed my stop on the train.

2) A fic that made you cry

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder by pillar of our community @swifty-fox. I'm sure most ppl have probably read this one but it's such an amazing post-show continuation that really doesn't pull it's punches when it comes to both PTSD and the realities of being gay in the 40s

3) Fave comfort, silly fic

It's a little rogue but I'm gonna say Awake, Alive by the wonderful @whirlpool-blogs. It's a pet sematary au so not exactly what you would call traditionally comforting but the ending makes me so happy and the whole thing is just a joy. The fact that this came to mind when I thought 'comfort fic' is probably pretty telling about me as a person....

4) The fic that made you try a genre or trope that you don't usually read

This is also a bit rogue but it was tricky since I'll read anything, so I'll go with Strings of the Strings of Life by the lovely @weimarweekly, not because of any of the content but because I don't, as a general rule, read Dune fic that was written after Dune 2 released. I've bored everyone to tears with my complaints about that version of Feyd but it is what it is so I tend not to like any fics written about that version of the character BUT the prospect of a feydpaul Berlin techno au was too delicious to resist and the whole fic is so fun. It makes me miss Germany sooo bad.

5) An author who has inspired your own fic writing

This one has got to go to the anonymous author of both Close And Yet Closer and The Replacement. Both of these fics are god tier and their character psychology and willingness to allow their versions of the characters and relationships to be ugly and messy are so inspiring to me. They were also the first person in the John/Hausman tag on ao3 which is currently just me and them. I think about the replacement all the time and it was a HUGE influence on 3am Eternal. If I can ever write half as well as them I will die happy.

6) What are your fave underdog authors? Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve a bit more love

Hmmm, this is kinda hard cus the MOTA fandom is pretty small so I feel like a lot of stuff gets decent buzz. Imma shout out @whirlpool-blogs again and especially their fucked up clegans fics, I have read and reread all of their works and they're always so so good. I will also add @steeseman for Up In Our Bedroom. It's another great post-canon fic and while it has a lot of hits, I don't think I've seen anyone talking about it on here.

7) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did more of when it comes to fanfiction.

The obvious one is comment, it really does make my day when I get a nice comment, even just a couple words or an emoji mean a lot. The other thing I would say is writing curt/Kenny fic, there's not much out there and I want more please. Also more fics where characters relationships are like genuinely kind of fucked up and toxic. I love that shit.

8) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did less of when it comes to fanfiction.

Oh man, I really do not know. The only thing I can think of is that I hate the word 'yap' or 'yapping' so if I see it in a fic I shudder. Hmmmm, I guess I also wish that there was a little more consideration when writing Gale's dad as an alcoholic because it's often treated as the basis for him being a shitty person. Addicts aren't automatically bad people and I sometimes feel like it's portrayed that way. @blixabargelds wrote an excellent post on this

9) I'm adding an extra one and that is current WIPs I am reading

Sympathy For The Devil by @blixabargelds, it's a modern ghost hunting AU and the set up is AMAZING. I will also throw Superstar in here even though it's not releasing main story chapters yet, everything Frankie writes is so tailored to my personal tastes it's crazy and I am so excited to read @mildharm's John POV chapters too. Literally foaming at the mouth thinking about it rn. When it starts being released fully, I fear it may kill me.

Love Song From A Dog and The Heart Is A Muscle by @swifty-fox. I've only just started THIAM but I'm so hyped for their take on the tattoo shop/flower shop au.

Hit Me Where The Heart Is by @london-cowboy makes me legitimately insane. I jump for joy whenever there is a new update, these versions of the characters and their stories are, as Paris Hilton would say, beyond. I do not have the words to say how much I am loving this fic. The characters and setting feel so real and it's just so creative. AMAZING.

I need to get around to starting let us not desert one another; we are an injured body and also the time skip fic whose name escapes me by @irregularcollapse and also catching up with @weimarweekly's rodeo fic, Looking For Eight

Writing this was very fun and I encourage anyone reading to give it a go if they fancy it!!

[zeondraws]

Did some stuff today, first thing was fixing that Roper model I made in this UE thingy.

I ended up taking screenshots of him doing dumb expression and I could not stop giggling, just... look at them

heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp

Me when I am about to punch Rennick in the face after he tells me "no" (I can't stop giggling, look at his face)

Roper has went insane.

I accidentally made him do this pose, I.... I can't take Roper serious anymore I'm.. I'm gonna banish him into the pontoons. Roper STOOOOOO-

I think the ears aren't perfect but other than that.. His head looks almost identical to the concept one. But how do I make this Roper look like ingame Roper- But I firstly have to figure out how to convert the file you can export. Oh jeez...

I'll try to focus some more on other characters soon, since some folk were curious about Brodie and Raffs. It just gets increasingly confusing the more info or tiny details I discover

I am still trying to puzzle Roper's lore. Something new I understood, while you are in MC one of his audio files shows he's muttering Rennicks name, you can barely understand it. But he's saying something like "Rnnick/Rennck" Or in the deleted MC audio you hear him in the backround uttering Rennick names a ton of times, while once saying "enough.... Rennicke" I'm not sure what this points towards.

After the helicopter crashes the roof of MC gets damaged, but that's the only visible damage. But Roper is such a mess in there. But if mutated Rennick would go in this room it would look worse. So he probably wasn't in there? Yet? Nothing else inside this room hints at anything.

Ok this thought just popped up as I am typing this, say the helicopter crashes and hits MC, this is where everything inside the room shakes.. We see chairs fell down and some stuff is not in place. The chair Roper was sitting in is also tilted.... say, the moment the helicopter hits MC, Roper looses balance on his chair and mutates...? I mean I have no other explanation for this? You can't hear his voice at aaaall while you get chased by infected Rennick. I hear other voices in the audio files of Admin, but not Roper.

It must be one reason he wasn't at the helictopter, maybe he felt unwell and didn't stop Rennick. Perhaps he tried to tell Rennick that his behaviour is unacceptable, hence why saying "Enough Rennick"

SURELY he got something on himself when the explosion happened, I have no other explanation what happened. He keeps babbling Rennick's name, as if he's stuck in something.

Also look what I finally figured out

I have the metahuman inside UE5 now hueheuheuheuheuehuehueheuheuheuehuehuehuehueheuheuehuehuehueheuheuehuehueheuheuheuehuehueheuheuheuehuehueheuheuheuehuehueheuheu *keyboard smashing*

I could animate him.... I can finally try to learn animation through my obsession *explodes in joy*

How to export him into blender is another challenge, but for now this is good enough! I can work with this. This could also help me with Rennick but I'll see about that in January! I'm frigtened to start modding dear god

Ok, enough of my rambling, I should really pack my stuff, I'm heading to my friend tomorrow for christmas, I have done nothing but swtd shenanigans

Maybe I'll tag this too, is a big discovery

[mattsfootcramp]

'Its Just a Bell' M.S series

warnings: strong use of language, suggestive, mentions of abuse

(if you know anyone struggling with abuse please tell someone right the fuck away)

Summary: After the night the triplets arrived, y/n searched them up.. and then she fully. met matt

I walked down to my dad who was getting ready to go to our house for the night.. always leaving me in charge.

I grabbed the keys from his hand as he walked into his old ford truck that that sat in the middle of the parking lot.

As he drove off i grabbed my phone and type out 'Sturniolo Triplets' on to google.

What popped up shocked the hell out of me 7.28 million subscribers?!

Jesus Christ and they could afford a decent hotel?

Because my shift was the whole 12 hour night i decided to grab a chair and turn on a video.

Throughout the video there was some sort of connection towards matt, his smile, his hair, his jokes, his lips, his eyes, his tattoos..

Now although i had no idea who they were before this i felt like i knew them my whole life after i watched 2 videos..

Until i hear a grunt behind me.

I quickly shut my phone off and look behind me.

Matt. Sturniolo.

"uhm hi?" I quickly look around to see if his brothers are with him surprised their not.

"I couldn't sleep so i was wondering if you guys at least had coffee" He says walking more into the main building.

"its only for the employees but.. i mean i can make you one.." Although it was completely against the rules that didn't stop me from breaking them.

I mean for this hot ass guy id do anything. fucking. anything.

"really? you sure its no problem?" He replies.

"its literally just me brewing it.. i got you.." My accent deceives me.

I walk to the back and signal for him to follow me. I grab a coffee pod and place into the coffee maker.

"you know.. your nice. one of the nicest hotel workers iv meet" He draws an imaginary shape on the counter where stuff is stored.

"Its my accent. it portrays my personality differently. no one can take me seriously with it," i complain. sitting on the counter.

"hope you know its gonna take awhile. this coffee maker is older then the building." Making him laugh.

God his laugh.. the way he just smiles.. makes me think of how he would pound int- y/n no he's a customer.

"so im gonna assume you have a boyfriend?" He goes into a little serious emotion.

"what makes you assume that?" I smirks.

"i mean your like really ho- i mean- shit i didn't mean to like.. fuck i messed up" he covers his face in embarrassment

"Bold.. i like it. and no.. i don't have a boyfriend." I get off the counter ass the coffee maker comes to a stop.

"wait really? wait how old are you?" he makes a curious expression

"18.. about to turn 19 in like.. 5 days?" i grabs a few creams a sugars for him.

"wait your shitting me." he looks almost happy now that he knows my age

"nope!" i say with that fake ass smile.

"i probably should of lead with that question before anything.." he makes a little smile.

"yeah probably." I laugh a little with him.

"god I'm heading to fucking Texas tomorrow.. or in two days.. i don't really know" he sighs and leans his head on the wall

2 days?! how am i supposed to make a connection in 2 days?!

"so your an influencer.." I bites my lip gently. him taking notice.

He stands up straight and gently walks to me

"yeah.. you like that huh?" He squints his eyes with a little smirk.

He puts both his arms on either side of me trapping me into the counter.

"i-.. uh.." I got so flustered.. fuck. I'm blushing to hard at this.

"well? gonna answer m-" He gets cut off by the bell signaling that the door opened.

"you uhm wait right her ill be back" I walk out and see my dad frantically looking for something

"uhm? what are you looking for?" i cross my arms at the front desk

"my lighter. have you seen it" he looks up at me with that look. the look of drunkenness.

"no.. dad.." i go quiet. not wanting to make him mad. especially when matt is in the back of this building.

"god your fucking useless. fuck. i bet you fucking took it because you so mother fucking greedy." he yells at me. making me flinch. making him scoff and leave.

At least he didn't hit me that time.

I walk back into the back. matt has a look of concern.

"what just happened" he questions once im in view or him.

"you should.. you should go before he comes back.. I'm fine though thanks." I look down at the floor the whole time

"Can i.. give you a hug?" he walks a little forwards

I nod and he closes the gap between us and wraps his arms around me. and in this moment i feel the safest iv ever felt around a man in my whole life. i felt hope about everything. makes me feel like a little kid on Christmas with her little barbie truck. Jesus Christ i might fall for him.

a/n: thank all of you guys for being sooo patient with me❤️❤️ luv you guys soo much

Taglist:

@iluvjakeyy @spicybabysworld @monroesturnns @sturniolo-fann @bernardsbendystraws @hysteria-things @ashlishes

[prettypinkporkchop]

She Doesn't Smoke

Stoner!Matt x fem reader

Description: You tripped out. Your boyfriend, Matt is protective over you now. Chris is annoying.

Warnings: sexual, language, weed, lowkey Matt is a brat tamer, cockblocked (sorry)

"Hey, open your eyes." Matt lightly taps your cheek a few times.

You flutter your eyes open and breathe in, groaning. "What the..?" You mumble.

"You tripped out. I'm not letting you do that again." His blue eyes bore into yours with protectiveness.

"God, was it laced?" You sit up and notice you're in his bed.

"No, of course not." He holds onto you. "I'd never give that to you." He kisses the top of your head.

"God, I feel like crap." You groan.

"That's normal. Let's get you some water and something to eat, pet." He brings you face into his hands and kisses your lips.

You guys make it downstairs, you following behind him while he's holding onto your hand.

"Good girl, nice and easy steps." He cooes.

---

Matt has been even more nervous and protective over you. Him and Chris are always smoking. But he's made it to where they only do it outside now because the smell makes you panic.

You're sitting in yours and Matt's room on the bed, reading a book. Matt walks in and throws off his hoodie, his white top slightly rising, showing his stomach. You stare in awe, blushing. He notices and smiles, shaking his head.

"Hey baby. Chris is out driving around. I think him having his license now has boosted his ego." Matt laughs and plops on the bed beside you.

You snort and put your bookmark in your spot. You close the book and place it on the nightstand. "You know, your body is sexy as fuck." You totally ignore the Chris thing because Matt, your sexy boyfriend, is in front of you. Time to act up.

Matt lays back on his pillows with his arms under his head. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Do something about it, princess." He chuckles.

You crawl on top of him and press your lips on his. Both of your tongues work with each other's. His hands grip your waist, and he grinds against you, grunting as he hardens underneath you.

"Such a good girl." He mumbles against your mouth. Within seconds, he grabs your throat, his thumb applying some pressure to your pulse point. He flips you both around, keeping his hold on your throat. He looks into your eyes.

"Matt.. please." You squirm under him. You're impatient and wrap your legs around his waist.

"Uh, uh." He pushes your leg down with his free hand. His grip tightens around your neck. "Patience, princess."

You whimper and whine. "Matt, I can't wait."

He slaps your thigh near your ass. "Princess, you're gonna wait. Don't be a brat." He growls.

Chris barges in the room. "You guys!!!!" He stops.

Chris sighs and let's you go, glaring at Chris. "What?" He hisses.

"I'm so sorry. Just wanted to say I got more weed. The dealer said we are his best customers, so I got a whole gram for free." He holds up the bag.

Matt grabs the bridge of his nose. "My girl, she doesn't even smoke." He mumbles.

Chris chuckles. "I know, bruh. Let's she if she'll try again."

You scrunch your nose at him. "No, thank you."

"Get the fuck out, Chris." Matt groans.

Chris quickly shuts the door and leaves.

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

for the one shot request: give us sexy basketball jean (i actually hate basketball but i love jean so...idk what came over me)

EB, thank you for the prompt!! :D I'm not too into basketball either, but I gave it my best shot anyway. I did write this stoned. I hope this satisfies your basketball Jean itch :)

this song fueled my inspo and is the namesake, and here’s the ao3 link :p

NSFW, 18+ ONLY

Jean Kirstein x Female Reader wc: 3.1k, Ch. 1/1

"Grins"

Dating team captain Jean Kirstein meant occasional bouts of loneliness during late night practices. He always planned to come straight to yours after though, as you were both shamelessly clingy.

Being around Jean made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl, or a crazy fan meeting her idol. He was admirable in every way, and he carried himself like a fuckin’ jerk. He was tall and grew his hair longer at the nape of his neck. His shoulders were wide and his hands were big—he’d grab the ball with one hand to show off when he knew you were looking. 

You met when you accompanied your roommate Hitch to a weekly pilates session at the campus gym and rec center. 

In her seemingly expert planning, Hitch timed your walk to the class with the end of the men’s basketball team practice. 

“There’s the blond that’s gonna marry me one day,” she quipped in a low voice, and you nearly choked with laughter.

The sweaty, shirtless players would share the short stretch of hallway with the two of you before diverging away to the showers. It was hard not to ogle.

Hitch had given you the rundown about who was who and who was hot in between reps at pilates. You never gave much thought to the sports at EU, but it turned out the varsity basketball team had a reputation. 

Over time, you understood her fascination, and had picked out your own pretty boy from the lot, just for laughs. Jean was eye candy and you had an embarrassing sweet tooth. 

You didn’t think much of the sightings, just enjoying the times you’d walk past each other at the gym and occasionally on campus, and wonder hopelessly if he had really locked eyes with you, or if you’d made it up. 

Sometimes you happened to arrive early enough to watch some of their practice—seeing the boys banter and puff up their chests, dunking on each other and arguing.

By some miracle or twist of fate, one day Jean began to lag behind his friends, catching your stride, with a cocky smile that made your stomach drop. 

“You know, you’ve got pretty eyes,” he said politely, hushed low and so restrained, yet something about his tone made you nervous. His headphones dangled from his neck and his shirt had a dark ring of sweat at the collar. He was looking at you like he’d decided on something. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, me or her?” You jerked a thumb at Hitch. She was a catch, and more likely to be approached between the two of you—but your friend stifled a laugh and said nothing. 

Jean shook his head. 

“You.” As if it were obvious. 

Jean rotated his shoulders lightly as you chatted with him—he asked about your major and where you were from, and you wondered if he was flexing on purpose.

From then on, Jean seemed to be everywhere. He’d catch you in the student parking lot, walking you to your car and leaning a hand on the door just to watch you squirm. He’d be across the study room at the library, and you’d catch each other’s unsubtle stares until you eventually asked him to join you.

After weeks of torturous flirting and late night phone calls, he convinced—practically begged— you to come to one of his games. 

Hitch was thrilled to get such good seats and cheer Reiner on from the stands, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Jean point right at you and wink.

You weren’t really into basketball, but god, you were into him. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off him as the game went on, and he couldn’t stop flirting your way in between plays. He was still carrying out his duties as a captain though, and his determination and set jaw entertained you just as much.

After that first game, Jean offered to take you home. He didn’t tell you until later that he skipped out on a team dinner to spend time with you instead. 

He had let you wear his Eldia University sweater as you settled into his passenger seat, and later when you arrived at your apartment, he let you wear his jersey as you settled into his lap.

You both had some beers–some peach flavored shit that was forgotten in the fridge. You had no idea how Hitch hadn’t finished it all. You had knocked so many back that you were unabashedly straddling his hips and rubbing his biceps in a drunken haze.

“So, Y/n’s first game with the Devils,” Jean takes a swig. He was shirtless after giving you his jersey, lounging in his boxers on your comforter. “What did you think? Feeling the school pride?”

“A little,” you laughed. Watching him play was a delight. “What happened towards the end there, though?”

“Lack of discipline.” Jean rolled his eyes. He’d lost his temper just a bit when Eren had fouled out . “Otherwise—did you have fun? Because y’know, that three in the last quarter was for you.” 

“Oh thank you!” You laughed. “I’m honored. You’re so intimidating on the court.”

“Yeah, really?” He asked, his voice level and nonchalant. “I didn’t know I intimidated you. I’d hate for that to cause a problem.” He pulled you a bit closer. 

Your faces are only inches apart all too suddenly and you blush hard. Asshole. He wasn’t subtle about what he wanted.

“I didn’t say that,” you averted your eyes and gave him a little shove, creating a few more inches of distance. You adored the curve of his chin, and the soft color in his lips.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

Jean was a sight to have in your bedroom, so handsome and ripped like he’d walked off a movie set. You almost couldn’t handle it. You never dated “popular” guys. The sentiment was a little high school, but it was a fact. Jean was charismatic. He was sure of himself. You don’t know if you could ever admit to him that you were still completely starstruck.

“I can’t imagine how you do it,” you said with a small smile. 

“What?” Jean said softly.  You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He moves a strand of hair gently away from your face and watches you with his intense gaze, pupils blown. 

You chug the rest of your beer for a bit of bravery and toss it off the bed.

“Being EU’s golden boy,” you say dryly. “Being under those bright lights, all those people counting on you. You’re so damn good at it.” You moved your hands to his shoulders, inevitably sliding down to his biceps again. You can tell that he’s staring at your lips now too. 

 It was hard to focus in the dim light, against the warmth of Jean’s bare chest. You were all too aware of how he circled his thumb gently against one spot of your leg, torturing you. He smells so good. 

“Well, I like being good at things,” he said simply, running his palms against your thighs. He watched your face as he rubbed your legs slowly, inching higher up a little bit every time. “And I like coming home after a game and feeling exhausted. The full body burning from working so hard. The muscles aches are proof I’m living to my fullest potential, and I think that’s what my life on the court is all about.”

You were trying not to shake from his touch. Jean was practically massaging you, full contact with both his palms, warm and rough as they ran right above your knees and every inch up to the smallest part of your waist. He’d trace lines and shapes, squeezing your flesh. Your breathing was uneven and light. 

“Um,” you swallow quietly. “That sounds.. Interesting.” 

Jean slipped his hands under the jersey, pawing at your tits before lowering his head and kissing your neck, trailing up to your jaw. Your breath catches at the sudden sensation.

“That’s right.” He said, reassuring and stern.

You were shaking now. One of his hands supported you while the other kept rubbing your thighs. He was manhandling you as you were limp in his grip, dazed and drunk, simmering in pleasure. His breath was tingly and hot against your neck. Longing grew in your core and you ached for him. 

“Jean, kiss me..” You whine and grab at his face with desperation. 

He laughed softly, amused at your neediness. Your heart was pounding when your lips met, and he sighed softly at the contact. 

Jean tasted so good. He pushed against you, probing your lips gently, the friction was perfect and you couldn’t stop yourself from going back for more. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you shuddered. You loved how warm he felt against you, how comfortable he seemed. Thrill and lust surged in your veins, humming inside you. 

“Please..” You murmured against his lips. 

You fold so easily for him. You were thrilled to have the honor of folding for him, becoming undone by Jean was heaven.

“You’re too cute.” He said breathlessly. He unhooked your bra and tossed it aside, and returned to rubbing your thighs and groping you. 

God, fuck him. 

He was glistening in sweat, breathing deep and heavy. Your thighs rub together in his lap and he cradles your ass with one hand. He kissed you deeper, biting your lips and sucking on them. 

“Oh my god..” You’re grinding against him, kissing him like you were deprived. “Fuck off..”

Jean rolls his eyes at your faux defiance and curls a hand around your throat. He kisses you harshly, urgently, his hands rough against your stomach, your thighs. Your neck is in his one hand, and he grazed your skin with his teeth. 

Fuck him for looking at you like this, like he was starving. Fuck him for how big and hard his cock feels through these boxers. He preoccupied you with one kiss after another and you drowned in the burning pleasure that was growing in between your legs.

Jean pulled away for a brief moment and jerked his head to the opposite wall. 

“Is that a mirror?” He said, a crooked smile forming with delight.

Your cheap mirror was small and thin, glinting in the dark, leaning against your closet door.

You nod and blush, realizing his idea.

“Come here,” he pulls you onto his lap again, your back against his chest. 

You swallow nervously and try to look away, but he holds your chin.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just..annoying, how impressive you are,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jean breathed. He had the perfect view of your shaking legs as he took the waistband of your panties, pulling them off. “You’re easy, you know that? You get groped by big, strong hands and now you’re fucking soaked.”

His boner was pressed up against your ass, and he hooked his hands under your knees and spread your legs apart.

You’re flushed and dazed, and let out a soft sigh as he cups your cunt, tapping it gently. You were so wet.

“I’m.. not..” You grip his wrist, not to stop him, but for support. 

“Yeah?” Jean challenged. He dipped the pad of his middle finger against your pussy and spread the wetness around the folds, barely brushing your clit. “What’s this?” He said, his voice dark and rough. “You love this, don’t you?”

Jean takes his time playing with you. He rubs your puffy clit with care, achingly slow. Your sighs fueled his dexterous movements, rubbing circles and making lines. He traced the folds of your pussy, spreading your wetness all over and making you twitch with pleasure.

“Yeah, good girl…” He said softly, and your hips buck at his filthy encouragement.

“Fuck…” Your breathing grows heavy. You whimper as he pets you in the dim light of your bedroom. You were both watching him violate your cunt. “Jean, please.. Fuck me..”

“My pace, sweetheart.” He used your slick to slide his middle and ring fingers inside you. He guides them in and out, soft and slow. 

The room is filled with your pathetic moans and the soft squishing of your cunt gripping his fingers.

Jean can’t stop sucking at your neck, biting you, leaving marks all over your skin. You buck your hips against him, fighting the overstimulation and losing poorly as you lose track of how many times you cum. 

Your clit is throbbing. It’s soft to his touch, and he adores the flush on your cheeks, and how pretty you look lost in pleasure. He gropes your tits, squeezing them, and running his thumbs over your nipples. You buck your hips again, it was too much. 

“You ready?” Jean’s voice is strained. It was hard to hold back now, he wanted his turn with you.

“Yes please,” you whispered. 

He pulls his cock out, precum oozing from the tip. It was flushed pink, and veiny, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss it. 

Jean grabbed your hips. He positioned his cock at your opening, tapping it against your clit and relishing the sight. 

“Look at me, pretty girl,” he whispered roughly. 

You were so hypnotized by the sight of your reflection—legs in the air, your hole perfectly aligned with his member. He teases you with the tip, pumping his shaft with his hands and rubbing it against your cunt. You met Jean’s eyes in the mirror, the desperation and lust in his expression made you quiver. 

After the agonizing wait, he finally thrusts into you. 

Jean sighs at how your cunt flexes around him, hungry for more friction. He holds your waist with both hands and bounces you. You feel him go deeper and gasp. It was so big, and he was so strong—you loved how he gripped you, how he fucked you. 

You were so lost in pleasure that you were completely unaware of soaking his sheets. He pumped you up and down on his cock, and you bounced eagerly on top of him, moaning obscenely.

“Come on baby. Drain this fucking dick, come on.” He growled, watching cream dribble down your pussy. 

You were squeezing him tight, so wet and messy. “M-more, Jean... please..”

“Here,” Jean gently disconnects himself and drags you by the ankles to the edge of the bed. 

You giggle at his strength, and he shoves you lightly and you fall onto the mattress with your ass in the air. 

“Perfect fucking view.” He smacks your ass with a moderate sting.

“Yeah?” You say coyly, grabbing a pillow to stuff your face into. 

“Of course. You look good in my jersey,” Jean smiles wistfully as he winds your hair around his knuckles. He puts a hand on your back and you barely have time to take a breath before he sheathes himself inside you again. 

“Oh, shit,” you whine as Jean drills you from behind. He fucks you mercilessly, spanking your ass with resounding smacks. The pain was wonderful and fleeting, and you prayed he wouldn’t stop. 

You felt your cum paint your inner thighs, your clit was throbbing and you tried to rub yourself while he moved behind you. It felt so good to surrender to Jean, to let him split you open. You whine into the pillow and buck your hips. You adore the sound of his ragged breaths as he fucks you. 

Jean’s moans are so tender, his pleasure is so real. He loves watching you coat his cock in your juices, the cute little flourish of your lips around him. 

“Spread it,” he pants. “Spread it for me, baby.” 

Your shaky fingers reach for your cunt, and you try your best to spread yourself open while he fucks you. Jean groaned at the display, he wanted to remember the way you look bent over forever.

He fit perfectly inside you, and you felt every vein and every inch of him in your walls. You were dizzy and seeing spots as you drifted in pleasure. You were a little tired, but you didn’t want him to stop. It was heaven, the way he thrusted into you, cradling your body and using it. 

Your eyelids flutter as you fight the weight of them.

Jean pulls out slowly and gently rolls you onto your back. You almost tip over until he supports you again, petting your hair. 

“You okay?” He’s breathing heavily, covered in sweat. His hair is drenched, and he holds your jaw in one hand.

All you could give was a nod as you caught your breath too. 

“You’re so cute,” he mumbled, and slipped his thumb into your mouth. You close your eyes and swirl your tongue around it, tasting yourself. “You wanna keep going?” 

You nod again.

“Can I eat your pussy?” He pants desperately, taking his thumb away. 

“Oh,” the surprise escaped you quicker than you could stop it. “If you want to.”

“Y/n,” Jean laughed. “It’ll make my fucking night.”

You shed his jersey and he guided you onto your back again. 

Jean wedged a pillow under your neck and kissed you on the forehead, on both cheeks, on your nose. He kissed down your neck and in between your tits, down your stomach, until his face was positioned in between your legs. 

You reached down to spread yourself out for him, teasing yourself. The sight drove Jean crazy. He was stroking his cock desperately while you showed him how wet you were, and he leaned forward, resting his nose at the soft valley above your clit.

Jean moaned softly at the perfect taste.

He made out with your pussy like his life depended on it. Jean adored the way the flat of his tongue would make you shudder, how flicking it against your bud would make you cry out.

You pulled at his hair, knuckles white as you rocked back and forth. You tried to keep from crushing him, but Jean practically encouraged it as he darted his tongue in and out of your cunt. The motion made your hips buck and he had to pin you down to keep you from writhing away. 

Jean bent your knees back till your ass was on full display, round and still red from earlier. He smacked your pussy as he left kisses over his handprints. 

Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, the heat was overwhelming as your head pounded, and you gave in. Your body spasms as you cum all over Jean’s mouth. He worshiped your sensitive folds, licking you clean, and wouldn’t stop until you came again. 

[butchersboobs]

Twist (Part Three)

A Billy Butcher POV fanfic

NSFW under the cut - MDNI

Part One | Part Two

_________

I’ve been up all night. Pacin' the flat. Swearin' at the telly. Drinkin'. 

But nuffink I do stops me keep 'earin you tellin' Ollie I ain't never comin' back - it's on repeat in me 'ead, over 'n over again til I wanna punch me fist through the fuckin' wall.

The look on 'is little face… Nah, I can’t let that stand. You don’t get to pull that kinda stunt 'n get away wiv it. 

So the next day, I'm back knockin' at yer door, shoulders square, ready for anuvver barney.

I expect ya t'tell me t'fuck off, slam the door in me face, maybe even call the ol' bill on me. But ya don’t. You open the door quick, lookin' like you’ve been waittin' for me t'get 'ere. “Come in” ya say, like nuffink's 'appened.

For a second, I just stand there - blinkin' like a twat. “You what?”

“Come in, Billy” you repeat, calm as ya like.

It throws me completely - but I'll be fucked if I'm gonna let you know that. I just shove me way past ya, an' 'ead towards yer livin' room.

You forget - I fuckin' know you. I don’t trust ya one bit - yer up to summink.

The place is quiet - too quiet. No Ollie running about, no squeals o'laughter. “Where’s the boy?” I ask, me voice sharp.

“He’s at preschool,” you say, closin' the door.

Me jaw tightens. I feel like I’ve been set up. “Right. So what’s this, then? Some kinda ambush?”

You shake yer 'ead, looking… sad. Guilty, maybe. Good. You fuckin' should be, after the shit you pulled yesterday. “Billy, I just… I wanted to talk.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Talk? Oh, now ya wanna fuckin' talk. After breakin’ that poor lad's 'eart?”

“I know,” ya say, and there’s this tremble in yer voice. You're fillin' up. And for a split second, I wanna comfort ya - never could stand it, seein' ya cry. But I soon fuck that train o'fort off. Fuck that.

“I know, Billy. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was cruel, and I feel terrible about it.”

“So ya fuckin’ should,” I snap, but the fight’s gone out o'me a bit.

You take a deep breff, steadyin' yerself. “God, he was so upset. He cried himself to sleep last night, thinking he'd never see you again. I can’t do it to him, Billy. I… I want him to see you. Regularly.”

Well that stops me in me tracks. “What?”

“You can see him, as often as you like. We just need to figure out some ground rules,” you say, foldin' yer bloody arms again - but it ain't in anger this time - more like yer tryna 'old yerself togevver. “For Ollie’s sake. He needs stability, Billy.”

Me anger flares up again, hot 'n sharp. “Ground rules? You takin' the fuckin' piss? You fink you get to call the shots after what you've done?”

You flinch, but ya don’t back down. “I’m trying to do what’s best for him, Billy. Can we just - can we not fight about this? Please?”

I look daggers at ya, every muscle in me body tense. Because I know yer right. As much as it boils me piss - you're right. I sigh, draggin' me 'and through me beard. “Fine. Ground rules. Whatever. Just say what you gotta say.”

And then you go straight f'me fuckin' jugular.

“I need you to promise not to tell him you’re his dad…”

The fuckin' balls on you. Fuckin'ell. I'm goona blow...

“You can fuck right off wi'that shite - are you seriously tellin’ me I’ve gotta keep me gob shut 'n pretend I’m just some random fuckin' bloke, while my son - my fuckin' son - walks 'round not knowing the troof? You’re havin’ a fuckin' laugh!"

“For fucksake Billy - let me finish” you shout back, and there's tears fallin' now. “I’m not saying you can never tell him you're his dad. I mean… just… don't tell him yet. Let him get to know you first. Let him feel comfortable. Please.”

I’m so angry I can 'ardly see straight. I need ta fuck off out of 'ere, sharpish - cos if I don't? I'll fuckin' frottle ya. 

But outta nowhere, I fink of Ollie. 'Is little grin, the way he ran t'me like I was his 'ole world. I can't walk out on 'im. E's only little, I don't wanna confuse the lad.

“Fine,” I say through gritted teef. “But don’t fink I’m fuckin' 'appy about it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes.

You try t'pull yerself togevva - you gotta pick 'im up in a minute, ya tell me. And outta nowhere, you ask if I wanna come wiv ya - maybe take 'im for a burger t'the park. Me gut's tellin' me ta tell ya t'fuck off. I wanna see 'im on my terms, not yours. But then Ollie pops back in me 'ead again, an' I imagine 'ow 'is face is gonna light up, and I find meself sayin' yes.

But the second I agree, the panic sets in. What the fuck am I doin'? I’ve never looked after a kid in me life, let alone taken one out on me own. What if 'e falls off the fuckin' climbin' frame and cracks 'is bloody 'ead open? What if I feed 'im the wrong fing? What if I fuck it all up?

But I shove it down, 'ard. I'll do it fo 'im. For my boy.

—-----

We walk just down the road to Ollie’s preschool, an' it’s awkward as fuck. Neaver of us says much, there's just the sound of me bloody great clod'oppers on the pavement and the occasional cough. I can feel ya lookin' at me out the corner of yer eye, probly worryin' I’m gonna fuck it up.

You stop in front'o the preschool gates, fiddlin' wiv yer coat zip, and for a second, I fink about sayin' summink. Summink… normal. But then the gate opens, and the noise o'kids pours out. Me froat tightens.

An' then I see 'im. My boy. 'Is little 'ead bobs up, scannin' the line o'parents, and when 'e clocks me, it’s like the sun’s just come out. “Billy!” 'e shouts, droppin' whatever e’s holdin' and leggin' it towards me.

I don’t fink I’ve ever been hit so 'ard in me life - not by a punch, not by a bottle, not by anyfin. 'E crashes inta me, little arms wrappin' 'round me legs, face liokin' up up at me wiv that massive grin of 'is. “You're back you're back! Yay yay yay”

I crouch down, me 'ands on 'is tiny shoulders, and for a second, I can’t say a bloody word. I swallow 'ard. “Course I am, mate,” I finally manage, me voice rough. “I told ya I'd be back, dinni, ay?”

You’re standin' there, watchin' us, and when I glance atcha, there’s tears in yer eyes. It pisses me off a bit, but I push it aside for Ollie’s sake.

“Hey, Ollie,” you say, your voice gentle. “How would you like to go for lunch with Billy? Maybe to the park after?”

Well - 'e lights up like a fuckin' Christmas tree, bouncin' on the balls of 'is feet. “Yes! Can we, Billy? Please?”

I'm desperately tryna keep me face neutral, but inside I’m shittin' meself. “Yeah, alright, little man. Let’s do it.”

You pass me 'is little backpack, and the strap feels weird in me 'and - too small, too light. I feel like I shouldn’t be trusted wiv summink so important. “Have fun,” ya say, but yer voice is quieter now, almost 'esitant.

I nod, not trustin' meself t'speak wivout crackin'. I take Ollie’s 'and, n' we 'ead down the street, 'is little legs tryna match me stride. He’s chattin' away, excited about lunch, excited about the park, excited about playin' dinosaurs and an 'undred uvver fings I don’t fully follow.

And me? I’m just tryna keep it togevva - pretend I know what the fuck I’m doing, while 'is tiny hand in mine makes me feel like I’m 'olding the most precious fing in 'ole fuckin' world.

‐—-----

We 'it the burger joint first. Thought I’d feel a bit more confident starting there. I mean, 'ow 'ard can it be t'sit down 'n eat? Turns out, a lot bloody 'arder than you’d fink.

Ollie’s bouncin' in 'is seat before we’ve even bloody ordered, natterin' away about dinosaurs again, which ones eat meat, which ones eat plants, 'n which ones'd like burgers if they was still kickin' about. I’m noddin' along, tryna keep up, but troof be told, I’m out me depth.

“Do you like T. Rexes, Billy?” 'e asks me for the tenf time, 'is little face all serious.

“Course I do,” I say, crackin' a grin. “Mean little bastards, ain’t they?”

'E giggles, and it’s a sound I don’t fink I’ve ever 'eard before. Pure joy. It does summink to me, 'earing 'im laugh like that.

When the food comes, I figure e’ll settle down, but nope. He’s dippin' chips in ketchup, then lickin' it off like it’s some kinda game. Gets it all over 'is face. The table. 'Is shirt. Jesus Christ.

“Oi, Ollie, mate,” I say, tryna sound firm but not too 'arsh. “The chips go in yer mowf, not everywhere else.”

'E grins up at me, cheeky as anyfin, an' shoves an 'andful into his gob. “Like this?” 'e mumbles  'round a gob full o'food.

I can’t 'elp it - I laugh. “Yeah, just like that. Perfict.”

By the time we’re done, the table looks like a bloody war zone. Ketchup smeared everywhere, squashed chips scattered, and I’m pretty sure e's got 'alf a milkshake down 'is front. But e’s grinnin' from ear to ear, and I feel like I’ve doin' alright.

“Ready for the park, then?” I ask, standin' up and grabbin' some napkins to clean 'im up.

“Yeah!” 'e shouts, jumpin' out 'is seat like I’ve just told him we’re off to Disney World.

We walk over to the park, and e’s practically draggin' me there, 'is little hand clutchin' mine. It’s weird, 'oldin 'is 'and like this. Feels… right.

When we get there, e’s off like a shot up the climbin' frame, shoutin' down at me to watch 'im. “Look, Billy! I’m up really high!”

My 'eart’s in my froat the entire time. E’s bloody fearless, this kid, swingin' off bars, 'angin upside down like e’s got no sense o'danger. I’m standin' there, arms out, ready to catch 'im if 'e so much as wobbles.

“You alright up there, mate?” I call, tryna sound casual while me stomach’s doin' bloody backflips.

“Yeah!” he yells back, laughin'. “I’m the bestest at climbing!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I mutter, more to meself than 'im.

Eventually, 'e makes his way to the slide, and that’s a bit less terrifyin'. E’s up and down it a dozen times, his laughter echoin' across the park. Uvver parents are 'ere, watching their nippers, chattin' amongst 'emselves. I feel a bit out o'place, like I don’t belong, to be honest. But Ollie’s avin' the time of 'is life - so I don’t let it bovver me.

When 'e finally comes runnin' back over, 'is cheeks are pink an' 'is 'air’s a sweaty mess.  E looks up at me, beamin'. “That was fun! Can we come back tomorrow?”

I crouch down to 'im “We’ll see, mate. We'll see. You 'ad a good then time, yeah?”

“The best!” 'e says, frowin' 'is arms round me neck.

An' just like that, the world stops. It’s just me and 'im, an' I feel summink I ain’t felt in years - peace. Pure, unshakable peace.

“Alrigh', let’s get you 'ome,” I say, standin' up and rufflin' his hair. “Your mum’ll 'ave my 'ead if I keep you out too long.”

He laughs, grabbin' me 'and again as we walk back. 

Maybe - just maybe - I can do this parentin' lark.

_________

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @dumpy-little-nobody @bohemianblasphemy @smallsadjellyfish @frank3nfag @noonwardmoss @rebelled-angel @karlurbanism @jax-the-oregonian @chocolategiverzombie @scxrchedearf @bluemerakis @enchantedflameandflower @allirose18 @chiefcreatorcreation @bobabilbil

[milla-frenchy]

Ughhhhh I cant' believe it's almost over, I'm gonna miss them dearly ❤️❤️❤️

Joel stayed for three nights. On the fourth night, Lily woke up cold, alone, the absence of his warmth like a missing limb ripped from her some time in the soft, orange morning. Panic seized her gut before she was fully awake, bouncing around, squeezing at her organs like a leech. She blinked manically, squeezing her eyes shut tight, eyelashes going spiky as she tried to clear her vision, as she tried to reach for the bulk of him only to come back empty.

Your writing is so vivid, I almost feel the emotions as if I were lily, how amazing is that? 🤌🤌

Lily tried not to think about it, tried not to think about his note, his silence, tried not to think about Caleb, how he was still out there, some part of him possibly still aware as that fungus ate away at him, forced him to do its bidding.

My god...

It took Joel five hours on horseback, weaving around the grounds outside of Jackson, to find those damn flowers. The idea had burrowed itself into his head last night, as he held a sleeping Lily, gently tracing the big, open flower tattooed on her shoulder. Those lilies, the ones he'd ripped out of the community garden years ago. He needed them back. 

omg he left to find some lilies??? 😍😍😍

Maybe it was a little silly, his sudden need to go get those flowers back, but it felt necessary, felt like some final piece falling into place. He'd ripped those flowers out once, because he couldn't bear the thought of her, couldn't even speak her name without falling apart. And now she was here, and he was trying, trying to be soft for her, gentle for her. If she was back, he needed the flowers back too.

Noooo it's not silly, it's amazing and I love it 😍😍

But before he could, Ellie was bursting, like she'd been holding the words in for just as long as she'd been ignoring him. "I was supposed to die in that hospital," she spat out, driving each word home with a slam of her hand against the top of the railing. "My life would have fucking mattered, but you took that from me." Joel wanted to tell her that her life did matter, mattered to him, mattered to her friends, should matter to her. Joel wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he couldn't, didn't know how. So, he said something else, something just as poignant, just as true, as he pushed himself off the railing to stand up straight and face her. "If somehow the lord gave me a second chance at that moment I would do it all over again." Silence fell between the two of them as Ellie searched his face, then turned to look back out across the yard, toward her house. "Yeah..." she whispered. "I just— I don't think I can ever forgive you for that—" And that stabbed into Joel like a hot knife, a choked breath shuddering out of him. "But I would like to try," she added, after a biting moment of silence. His heart slammed into his ribs, while something wet and trembling echoed from his lips. "I'd like that," he whispered, blinking hard to try to dissolve the tears in his eyes, something glimmering in his core now, something like hope. "Okay," Ellie said softly, pushing herself off the railing, "I'll see you around."

Ok, I need to express how much I LOVED how you added the game part. The EXACT game part. This is amazing. I played the game so many times, I love it so much, and your series fits in so perfectly it's so damn brilliant

"I missed you, Lily. Every day. I never stopped missin' you." He felt her tremble in his arms, her fingers twisting into his shirt as she slowly lifted her head, those bright glossy eyes searching his own. "And I'm— I'm sorry," he choked out, the words clawing their way out of him. "M'so sorry, baby, for lying to you, for bein' so horrible, I— I hate myself for it. I don't deserve your forgiveness and I'm not asking you for it." Lily opened her mouth, about to speak, those blue eyes gazing up at him, so soft, so bright he loathed himself for ever making her cry, for ever speaking such blasphemous, egregious things to her, even if he'd spoken them to keep her safe, to keep her away from him, the disgusting creature he'd become. "Let me finish," he said, before she could speak, reaching up to run his thumb across the soft skin beneath her eye, collecting a tear as he did. "When Sarah died," he exhaled the words, relief and agony swirling in marriage in his gut. "That first day. I— I didn't see any reason to keep goin'." His hand shook as he took her wrist in his hand, bringing her fingers up to that gnarled scar on his temple. She exhaled sharply as her fingers brushed against it, her hand trembling against him, those bright blue eyes going a little dark, glossing over with new tears that made him want to scream. "When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched, 'cause I heard your voice."

Oh boy. The confession about his feelings. The fact that he heard her voice????

"M'right here baby, you feel me? You're so full of me, little one," he purred, taking her hand from his shoulder and placing it on her lower belly, pressing his own hand over it so she could feel him inside of her, feel the thick shape of his cock hammering into her.

wow. So hot, so perfect

Joel dropped his head, trying to push the darkness he felt surging through him away, trying to cast it out so she would not fall victim to it, to him again. Never again. But then he felt it, her little hand spreading out over his cheek, and he trembled at the touch, a shudder working itself down his spine, and he let himself fall into it, into her, let himself be weak. "I killed them all," Joel muttered. "I saved her." Lily gently lifted his head, those blue eyes he'd been in search of his entire life gazing straight into his, without fear, without disgust, with something so warm he felt that black rottenness inside him completely melt away.

I love that he told her. And of course, of course, Lily's perfect, perfect words.

"Caleb," she choked out, when he was close enough to see, when she could make out the way his blue eyes had gone glossy and red, see the way his skin had gone discolored and scabbed. And he paused, the creature controlling him— or perhaps him, buried deep somewhere inside that vessel— paused at the sound of his name, cocking his head, twitching in place as he stared at her. It was almost like he knew, like he heard her somewhere in there, like the last remaining shred of his humanity was desperately trying to keep the creature controlling him from ripping her apart. She let out a sputtering cry, blinking rapidly, trying to keep her vision clear so she could see him one last time, even if this version of him was monstrous, even if the virus had eaten away all the life that had once brimmed in his eyes.

And here I am, sobbing again while I re read this chapter 🥺🥺🥺

"The Jeff Goldblum love." Something sprang open in Joel's chest at that, and he laughed, a full-bodied, thundering laugh as his head tilted back, and he heard Lily match it with a little giggle that made his stomach flutter. "You guys are fucking weird," Ellie breathed out, but when he glanced over at her, there was a smile tugging at her lips, and her eyes flickered to him for just a moment, but it was the first time she looked at him with anything but animosity in years. Joel had his girls, safe, warm, with him, for the first time in a lifetime.

I had to take off my glasses and wipe my eyes there, I was crying so much while rereading this.

Thank you SO MUCH for this series. I can't say it enough. One of my favorite series ever ❤️❤️❤️

Nights Like This One: XXV.

"He looked at her, and he loved her, loved her so much it burned, like something eternal, something that no amount of time, nor distance, nor the end of the world as they had known it, could kill off. He'd loved her, perhaps, since that first moment he saw her, looking hollow and bereft on the threshold of her mother's house. He loved her in every death, every birth, every reiteration of himself."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 9.5k a.n. this is the last full chapter. i'm so bereft knowing it's almost over. i don't know if i've ever been so emotionally invested in a story i've written before like i have this one. i literally cried writing the last few paragraphs. i hope you love it. i hope it mends you. i hope it balms the pain i've put you through over the past couple months. thank you so very much for reading. epilogue will be out soon. ily <3

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[kaisollisto]

your blog has art museum vibes, a really cool one where you can scream as loud as you like about the artwork and there are little notes beside each piece pointing out the highlights and processes used in their creation and maybe some tactile exhibits with interpretations of the artwork in food form that you can hold in your mouth and savor.

and poetry, lots of poetry.

your own art installation shows the vulnerability of creation, sharing even the unpolished ones, each line clearly drawn with care (even the subtly tired pencil strokes hold traces of it), with commitment to the process (even when you personally don't feel that you've improved) and a certain shine around the characters that you draw from favorite shows which make it clear to the viewer why you love them and why you strive everyday to better their drawings as close to perfection as your imperfect hands may achieve.

and love, there is always an undertone of love.

WHO COOKED HERE???????? who is beating my ass right now?????? oh my god I need a moment. I think perhaps I have flown too close to the sun. i uh, i uh i uh, i - i'm gonna have to find you and squeeze you

i don't even know what to say so i will drag my ass to bed and softly weep into my sheets. Love you thanks. I wish you a long prosperous life full of joy and love.

[deoidesign]

Ray of sunshine

(pre-launch page for their comic)