#i know that is another problem - i feel the urge to apologize for using my own space to talk about myself
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It's 5:30am, I can't sleep because I had a bad night last night and I need to vent.
Sometimes I wonder if not being more open about my offline life is to my detriment, because it never fails that I seem to attract people who see me as someone who's easy to walk all over. So many people I've known both online and off really like to treat me however they like, including being rude, condescending, and sometimes just downright cruelly, but the moment I have enough and draw a line in the sand they just want to wipe it away and tell me all about how I'm the one in the wrong.
I once had a friend who ignored my existence for six months and then got mad when I told her I wasn't coming to her son's birthday party. When I say "ignored my existence", I don't just mean unanswered texts; I mean I worked at a store in town and saw her in there multiple times. Every time I would wave and say hi while she was looking right at me and she would walk right by me as if I wasn't there. She knew I worked there too because we met working there. Literally we went from hanging out every day off we had together to that and still she got mad when I was hurt and just didn't want to come to a child's goddamned birthday party (when I have no kid of my own) because of it. The kid was only a year old so it wasn't like he knew who I was, either.
And online has been worse in a lot of ways. I made a friend a few years ago back when I first started getting involved in fandom. At the time I was resistant to the idea but now I realize I befriended him out of pity, because no one seemed to really want to be involved with him and he'd always been so nice to me. That was a mistake, because it turned out he was an alt-right chud who waited until he thought we were close enough and then started deliberately baiting me into arguments where he'd say horrible shit to me and make me upset and then fucking laugh He admitted it was fun for him to upset me. He stopped laughing when I finally stood up for myself and cut him out of my life, only to repeatedly ignore my requests for him to leave me alone. He would send me messages and like my posts, along with asking his friends to do the same and even writing a fic about one of my favorite characters where an unnamed OC treated said character poorly (all while said OC said things that were word for word things I said to him in out last conversation) and posting it where he knew I'd see it. Thankfully his conscience got the better of him with that last one and he took it down just a few days after posting, but the damage was done. He's the reason my ask box is closed most of the time and I have it set to where only followers can message me or comment on my posts. I think he's moved on - I hope he's moved on - but I live with this ever-present fear he hasn't and if I let my guard drop he'll start again.
And this is just two of the biggest incidents in a long line of family members saying I can't have boundaries with them because they're faaaamily and honest conversations with friends about how they've hurt me only to have them turn around and blame that hurt on myself. I'm just...so confused about what I can even do anymore. It feels like no matter what I do I just attract people who want to use and abuse my good nature. Hell, it's been so bad that I typed that and immediately thought "are you good-natured or do you just have an unnecessarily high opinion of yourself?" Which I know is the brain demon talking, but sometimes it's hard to drown it out, especially when this is all I've ever known.
#aristocratic witterings#using my blog as a blog#i am fighting urge to apologize for venting in these tags#i know that is another problem - i feel the urge to apologize for using my own space to talk about myself#that's what it's here for i shouldn't feel ashamed to use it#anyways yeah i blocked a few people yesterday because i've been letting some hurtful behavior slide for months now#and it finally just reached a boiling point where i had to make a drastic change or risk having another breakdown#and one of them has already evaded my block and just...#on one hand i'm sorry i hurt them. i know it hurts#but on the other blocking is a boundary and evading a block is crossing it#so i'm feeling just very fucking raw right now#might not be super active over the next few days. part of me wants to return to business as normal but also i feel i haven't even processed#this effectively right now and might need to take some time to myself
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The Misteryous Visitor 4
Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)
Synopsis: Bruce finally confronts Damian, and hates how tonight's events seemed to turn out just to remind him what a terrible father he is. He felt like he didn't deserve you, and he wanted at all costs to avenge the injustice Talia committed with you two.
Warnings: Family discussion; maternal overprotection; Bruce has psychiatric problems and is mentally unstable, besides being very angry; mentions depression, post-traumatic stress and the like.
Word count: 3.7k
Note: I apologize for taking so long to post the fourth part. I was looking for inspiration to continue in other fandoms. Now I feel engaged again to continue posting
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
"She is not a secret." Damian tried to sound firm, looking Bruce in the eyes to avoid suspicion. But no matter what he did or how long he tried to maintain the lie, his father had already decided what to think about this enigmatic and strange situation.
"Hmm..." He let out a disheartened murmur, and the boy never thought something like this would happen, but he frowned with worry as he saw Bruce pour another drink. It wasn't like his father to act this way.
When Damian first met him in person at ten years old, he could have sworn Bruce and Talia were somewhat enjoying themselves that day, even with the barbs hidden in some exchanged sentences. Or maybe he was mistaken; after all, it had been so long. Perhaps he had preserved a false memory.
"How much have you drunk?" The boy asked with a disdainful voice, trying to hide that he was truly concerned.
"Why have you never talked about her? She is your sister, Damian." Bruce ignored the question but in a kind of silent acknowledgment, he rested the glass on the side table, preventing himself from getting drunk.
"Why are you acting like this? As if it's a big deal." He made a face of confusion. "Why do you care so much about this? She isn't even your problem. I won't stay here being interrogated because of her." Damian got up, taking hurried steps to the front door. He was running away, and he knew it.
"Where are you going?" Bruce stood to follow him, finally showing some kind of emotion beyond stoicism since they had been alone in the room.
"I'm going to wait for my mother outside. And when she appears, I'll come back to fetch Y/n. Then you won't have to see her anymore, ever again." Damian said, and although Bruce didn't know if in the last part his son was referring to you or Talia, he didn't dare ask for the detail.
"Why didn't you ask any of us for help when you found out she was missing? If she is someone so close to you, you could have talked to us." Bruce was speaking in that strange way again, like when he found out Jason was the Red Hood. He was hurt, and as if a whistle had snapped in his mind, Damian understood that his father was like this because of him. It wasn't Talia or how she always ended up causing problems; it was him. "You hid from me that you were still talking to your mother."
"And did I need to inform you that I talk to my mother?" The boy tried to maintain a haughty tone, repressing the urge to shout so that Bruce wouldn't see his conflicting feelings.
The truth is that it hurt to lie like this. It hurt even more to lie to you. Damian didn't show or openly say what he felt; his mother once told him that was weakness, but honestly, now he was disgusted with himself.
"You didn't need to inform me, but you made an effort to hide it!" Bruce didn't shout. His voice was grave, authoritative, and deep down had a tone of betrayal that had twice the impact of a shout. He seemed to reflect on something, and patiently Damian awaited a lamentable outburst, but just as he himself would do, Bruce was avoiding becoming emotional.
"I don't understand why, but you came to live with me and seemed to exclude her from your life because of us. She is your sister and didn't even know I am your father! You sent letters, which I'm sure you hid not just from me but from her too. And she ended up here in the middle of the night like a fugitive. Will you tell me again that all this has no reason?"
"Even if there were a reason, it wouldn't be your business." The young man replied harshly, and once again: it was a lie. It was his business. Seeing Bruce's angry scowl turn into a defeated look made one of his fingers tremble. Realizing only after saying something that what he did was wrong made a panic arise in his chest.
Bruce sat back in the armchair, giving up on the discussion once and for all. He felt so stupid for thinking he was succeeding in freeing his son from the League of Assassins' clutches, that he was doing a good job showing him he didn't need the blind loyalty Talia taught him to have. He feared that Damian would succumb to a villain's life, exactly as Ra's al Ghul wanted Bruce to be: cruel and ruthless.
Talia stirred bad reactions in him, and his sense of justice hammered in his head. How could he simply hand you back into her hands after you came here tonight? That woman was a bad influence on anyone, and it didn't matter if you were her daughter; you were a child. And wasn't that what he did with all his children? Took them from the streets and bad parents?
He wanted to vomit at the idea of allowing you to continue being raised by someone like her, among those people, but if he couldn't even change Damian, what could he do for you? Bruce couldn't force you to stay, but at the same time, he grappled with the internal conflict of corroborating that one day you would become like they. He is Batman, his duty is to protect. He should protect you too.
Bruce rubbed his eyes, feeling an intense headache and he day was already dawning again"Your mother isn't coming, Damian." He asserted, noticing that a long time had passed since they started waiting, getting up to return to his own room.
"You said we had a lot to talk about." Suddenly, the boy felt the need to prolong the conversation, if this could even be considered a conversation. It was as if they would never speak again if he allowed his father to leave.
"We don't anymore." Was cold, and that made the boy swallow hard. Bruce knew he would regret being so harsh, but at that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. The rational part of his brain was being dominated by his impulsive side.
Bruce opened his bedroom door with unusual violence. Lately, these episodes of anger were frequent, perhaps due to interrupted sleep; this damned insomnia was worse than in the last months. Alfred had already suggested he see a psychiatrist, but Bruce was sure he would leave there with a worse diagnosis than expected, so he avoided it as much as possible.
The butler once dared to mention that he might have some type of post-traumatic stress, but Bruce was stubborn and that led to an argument. He was a controlled man, but that day he shouted. The reaction was not unexpected, considering the tension from the chaos Scarecrow was causing in the city at the time, but Alfred was observant and knew the problems went beyond that.
The death of his parents was a delicate subject, and combined with the pressure of being Batman, Alfred saw Bruce become more obsessive, anxious, and even depressed over the years. Fortunately, the emergence of Dick was a break in the sad loneliness for him. And then came Jason, Tim, Damian, and things improved for a while, but the relapses still existed.
Bruce sighed as he admired his bed, wishing he could sleep again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to without taking another dose of pills, which certainly wasn't an option. Then he noticed your coat there. The garment had been left in his room, carefully placed on the arm of the room's couch.
He walked over and picked up the coat, rubbing the soft fabric with melancholy and noting how well-kept the garment was. It would probably be a good idea to return it to you; Would also be an opportunity to check if you were well accommodated.
Cautiously, he walked to the guest wing. Bruce thought he would need to check the rooms one by one to discover where Alfred had placed you, but a beam of light leaking from one of the doors indicated which one. He hesitated to turn the knob; it felt too intrusive. So, he knocked: three soft taps on the wood. He waited a few seconds, but you didn't come to open it, and he gave in to the act of opening it himself.
In slow movements, he leaned to look inside the room, without entering yet and checking if everything was okay. He saw your figure well wrapped in the covers, eyes closed and breathing in a consistent rhythm. You were sleeping, and the light he saw was the bedside lamp.
He entered, doing everything to control his steps, going to a chair to place the coat there. He felt the need to be gentle with the garment for some reason, handling the coat with such care, as if holding you in his hands.
He was envious of how pleasant your sleep seemed, wishing he could sleep like that too. He thought of turning off the lamp, but regretted it when he saw that his act interrupted your sleep. As soon as everything went dark, he heard the rustle of the covers, signaling that you had woken up. You stayed still for a while, staring at the shadow in front of you, knowing someone was there but too embarrassed to ask who it was, until the light was turned back on and you saw Mr. Wayne.
"Sorry, I think I woke you," he said softly, genuinely feeling guilty. "I brought your coat. I left it to dry better; it's still a bit wet," he continued, gesturing towards the chair.
"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied groggily due to the minutes you spent sleeping. Thinking he would leave, you clasped your hands as if praying and placed them under your cheek on the pillow. A common but funny position.
"Call me just Bruce," he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your face. He had a question stuck in his throat and thought it would be a good idea to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"
"I am. Thank you for letting me sleep at your house." you answered serenely, and he nodded in agreement. "And you?" You asked back. Bruce blinked, surprised by your question, realizing that your eyes were shining. The truth is he couldn't say how he felt, so he said what anyone would say:
"Yes, I'm okay," he said, more focused on your face, knowing you might be uncomfortable with that but wanting to see you better.
“Can I ask you something?” He seemed anxious, and you waited expectantly in silence, which he took as a yes. “Why did your mother separate you two like that? Why didn’t she tell you anything?”
You stared at a random spot on the mattress, feeling a pang in your chest at the memory. “She did, in a way. Mom doesn’t like you very much, Mr. Wayne. I think that’s why,” you said, looking back at him, seeing him raise his eyebrows in amusement; you corrected yourself with a gasp: “Bruce.”
“Did she speak badly of me to you?” Bruce was curious like a silly child, even though a serious scowl was etched on his face.
“Not exactly about you. Mom and Grandpa hate Batman.” By this point, you had already figured it out. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots between your family and Robin with him after a few minutes of reflection. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Bruce let out a dry laugh, caught off guard. “Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed, and you shifted to sit more upright on the bed, excited.
“Is it true that you killed the Joker?” Your question made Bruce’s scowl turn puzzled. So that was the kind of rumor circulating.
“No, I didn’t kill him. He just... disappeared one day,” the same day Bruce thought he had lost Jason, and although deep down he wanted very much to have done it, he didn’t find it appropriate to admit that to you.
“I’m confused,” your voice became more relaxed, he thought it was due to the casual tone the conversation was taking. “If Damian is Robin now, what happened to the other one? He didn’t die, did he?” You asked the last question in a whisper, fearing it was true.
Bruce laughed at this. He had never thought about how people assumed Robin was a single person all these years. “No, he’s fine. You’d be surprised if I told you five different people have been Robin.”
Your eyes widened, and suddenly you remembered a detail: “There was a girl, wasn’t there? I remember seeing some photos in an old newspaper.”
Bruce was perplexed at how much you seemed to know about him, but in a good way. “Yes, there was a girl. She’s Batgirl now,” when he said that, your smile widened even more. It seemed like you were a secret fan, he would say, since in your own words: "Talia hates him" and Bruce knows she would hardly allow you to have such admiration.
But your smile faded, and that worried him for a moment until you spoke: “I didn’t know that man was Hugo Strange,” you looked at him with regret. “If I had known, I would have caught him for you.”
“Would you?” He asked, doubting you really could.
“Well... I would have tried,” you defended yourself, shrugging your shoulders.
“Very brave. But it’s good you didn’t do anything,” he said playfully, stopping to think for a moment. “Y/n, what did he tell you?”
He saw you wrinkle your nose in a grimace before answering. “I thought we met by chance. I was walking and saw a man smoking a cigarette on a corner. I was going to walk past, but then he asked if I needed help.”
“Which corner?”
“I don’t know, but it wasn’t far from home. I was trying to figure out the street on a map I found in the municipal library’s phone book,” you sighed, frustrated at not being able to give the information. “I ignored him, but he followed me. I got scared and started running, but he said he was a cop, so I trusted him.”
“Did he have a police car nearby?”
“He said he was undercover. But I don’t know what that means; I thought it was the same as being off duty.”
“It could mean that too.” Bruce saw your guilty expression, your lip trembling and your hands nervous.
“You don’t need to feel bad for believing him,” his larger hand enveloped both of yours like they were nothing. Were warm, and it was comforting. “I know Damian said horrible things, but he speaks in the heat of the moment.”
“It was not in the heat of the moment... He never just speaks,” your voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. Your eyes burned, but there were no tears. Crying for your brother would be the last thing you would do again. “What was in the box?”
“What box?” He was confused by your sudden change of subject.
“Didn’t Dick give it to you?” You asked, feeling his hand move away from yours and touch his left pocket. What Dick had given him was a card and not a box. Maybe he had taken what was inside. “I guess he forgot.”
“No. He didn’t forget,” he quickly responded, snapping out of a stupor. A curiosity grew in his chest, a need to know what was in that card.
Bruce fumbled in the pocket where the card still was and pulled it out. He quickly examined the paper, turning it over to check the back for anything. For a long time, his voice was muffled, and Bruce could only hear a buzzing in his ear. It was impossible for those words to have any real meaning. His breathing became loud and shaky, as if he were in the cold, and you were startled to see his eyes blinking frantically.
“Are you okay?” You moved to approach him, seeing moisture suddenly form on his forehead. It was cold sweat.
“How is this possible?” You heard him ask himself, bringing his fingertips to his eyes, rubbing them to make sure he was really seeing. That card had left him unsettled, you realized, and hesitantly, you tried to take it from his hands to remove it from him, but his grip tightened at the feel of your fingers, so tight that it completely crumpled the paper. “Sorry. It’s nothing,” he stammered, seeing that the abrupt movement had scared you.
He got up from the bed, completely oblivious to you or anything else now. He staggered before reaching the door, very disturbed and seeming out of it. Maybe it was you who did something wrong and didn’t realize it?
He didn’t seem fit to walk, so you quickly removed the covers from your legs and went to him, supporting and guiding him to the chair where he had left his coat. He was very heavy, but he was so disoriented that he went limp. He seemed so shaken that he didn’t protest and simply sat there. You stood in front of him for a few seconds, not knowing what else to do to help him.
“Shouldn’t I call someone?” You asked.
“Dick,” he mumbled without looking at you, and that worried. It seemed intentional, as if it was too difficult to face you.
“Where do I find him?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of something, but Damian’s voice on the other side of the door caught his attention:
“Y/n, open the door.” You stood still, recognizing your brother’s voice, until he continued: “Mom is here. She’s going to take you home,” he said as a warning, opening the door after a moment without even asking. “Come on. Why are you standing there like a statue?”
He was perplexed when you didn’t respond, and then he noticed his father sitting beside you in terror.
“Dad?” He approached, kneeling to assess the severity. He was having another episode. Lately, Bruce had only been getting worse every day and still refused to ask for help.
“What happened?” Your brother turned to you, but your face already showed that you had no idea.
Damian tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Bruce pushed it away aggressively. Your father would never act like this just because of the argument they had before, much less give him a venomous look as he did now, but beneath it all, there was hurt. He had found out about you, somehow.
He should have felt bad about how the news seemed to have been revealed, but he was relieved not to have to lie anymore. At the same time, he regretted choosing to cater to his mother’s whims once again, deceiving his father this way. But the omission had grown so much over the years he spent in the mansion and, after so long, it didn’t matter when he told him, the damage was already done.
Bruce wasn’t in a perfect mental state. He wouldn’t react like this normally, and knowing that, the man felt pathetic in front of the two of you.
“He asked for Dick,” you said to Damian, giving him space to breathe by stepping back.
“Forget Dick,” Bruce replied firmly, surprising. In an instant, he had a fit, and as quickly as he entered this state, he left it. Now, he seemed furious. “Where is she?”
This was a ploy by Talia and Strange. They were planning this together to hit him, a way to weaken him. It could only be that. It was too much of a coincidence Strange had found you just that night; nothing made sense. When had he and Talia gotten involved again after that day that led to Damian? He couldn’t remember and wasn’t good at recalling such old things. Maybe that wasn't even true. It was as if there was a big blank page in his mind.
“Get out,” Talia’s silhouette appeared at the door where she was leaning. Like most times when referring to the children, her voice was imposing, leaving no room for contestation. “Both of you.”
“You were supposed to wait downstairs,” your brother tried to contradict her. Despite everything he did for your mother, unlike you, he was the only one who had the courage to face her.
Her frown deepened at Damian’s defiance, but her stern expression softened at your trembling voice: ‘Mom...’ She sighed and opened her arms to you, casting a challenging look at Bruce, who returned it with an even harsher one, as she wrapped your smaller body than hers in a tight hug.
She knelt to your level, her hands gently brushing your cheeks and hair, noting how frizzy and messy it was. ‘Look at you. Your hair is all disheveled.’ She ran a finger down to your lip, grimacing at the cut there.
‘I’m sorry.’ Although less anxious now that you knew she wasn’t angry, you still regretted disobeying her.
‘My sweet girl,’ she said in a soft, genuinely affectionate voice. She kissed your cheek, casting that same malicious glance at Bruce again, as if provoking him. He felt a wave of nausea seeing her use you as a pawn just to taunt him. ‘Let the adults talk,’ she ordered, standing up and regaining her authoritative tone.
‘I’m staying,’ Damian protested. Leaving his father alone with her in his vulnerable state was a mistake.
‘Go and stay with your sister, Damian,’ Bruce was as harsh as Talia, but unlike her, he was seething with anger.
The boy closed his eyes in frustration but gave in, knowing it was useless to argue. He glanced at you, who had already walked out of the room and into the hallway. Damian was about to follow, but his father’s voice stopped him again:
‘She’s not leaving the house, Damian,’ his firm tone carried the weight of undeniable authority, with bitterness seeping through. The coldness in his voice left no room for warmth; it was distant. Bruce had finally gotten the push he needed. The possibility of you being his daughter gave him a sense of entitlement, and it made Talia’s arrogant expression falter for a moment; she looked apprehensive. ‘Do you understand?’ It was a question directed at both his son and Talia.
‘Yes,’ the young man replied simply, avoiding eye contact with his mother as he left. Damian paused in front of the door before fully departing, and his mother slammed it shut in his face.
He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and turned to look for you in the hallway, but you had vanished.
‘I deserve this,’ he muttered impatiently. You were avoiding him, and Damian couldn’t help but feel irritated at how childish that was. But he was one of the villains here; he was the one who lied, insulted, and rejected you. Realizing this filled him with shame, and unlike the first time, he repeated the words, this time with a tone of regret: ‘Yes, I deserve this.’"
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#imagine#x reader#angst#batman#batsis#batfam#batfamily#bruce wayne#damian wayne#dick grayson#sister reader#daughter reader#child reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x daughter!reader#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x sister reader#batman x reader#batman x daughter reader#batfam x batsis
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I Want You More Than I Want To Die (18+)
Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran/female!marked!reader
Summary: Thank gods you have a best friend like Bodhi. Whatever you need, be it a shoulder to cry on or having the depression fucked out of you, you only need to ask and he'll give it to you.
Warnings: Depression, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts and insomnia. Friends with benefits dynamic. Smut including unprotected p in v, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, forced orgasm, creampie, dumbification, dom/sub.
Inspired by IC3PEAK's song "Bad Night"
Another sleepless night.
You've had a lot of these lately, but tonight the dark thoughts in your head are especially loud. You've been fighting to drown them out all day, training twice as hard as usual to distract yourself, not allowing yourself any breaks. Turning in for the night, you'd been so exhausted you were sure sleep would come soon. But now, multiple hours later, you know better.
Your mind is racing a million miles per hour, the urge to turn one of the hard-earned daggers neatly lined up beside your bed on yourself getting stronger by the second, so you give up on the tossing and turning, swing your legs over the side of the bed and slip into your boots. You don't bother to tie them — your destination is just down the hall.
Chewing on your lip as you walk the short distance to Bodhi's room, you contemplate whether it's really worth waking him up.
Maybe you shouldn't have waited so long to seek him out. The guilt you feel about always bothering him with your problems — even though you know he doesn't consider it a bother — made you wait until you were absolutely certain sleep wouldn't come, but now it's long past what could be considered a reasonable hour to come knocking on your best friend's door. But you promised him that you would tell him when you needed anything, that you'd come to him if the demons in your head got too loud, no matter the hour.
Stopping in front of Bodhi's door, you softly knock, still hesitant to disturb him. Despite knowing he won't mind, you don't like to rob him of his sleep. After years of having your feelings invalidated by your foster family, you're still getting used to the idea that your feelings do matter, that you're allowed to feel bad, that someone cares whether or not you're okay. But Bodhi does care, you know that. He hates when you pretend to be fine even though you're not, and if you end up giving in to the need to cut yourself because you're too stubborn to seek his help, he'll blame himself when he finds out — which he will. He always does, no matter how hard you try to hide it.
You can't do that to him, so you knock again a little louder. A few seconds later the door opens and Bodhi stands before you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a strand of his dark curls flattened against his temple from his pillow. The heaviness in your chest eases a little at the mere sight of him. His calm presence never fails to comfort you.
He doesn't have to ask what brings you to his door so late, only opens his arms for a hug you gladly accept. You practically melt into him, blinking back tears as you realize just how much you needed this. After a few seconds he pulls away, stepping aside to let you into his room and dismissing your apology for waking him up with a smile.
"I already figured you'd show up tonight," he says, closing the door behind you. "Meant to ask if there's anything I can do to help, but you kept running off."
"Sorry. I was trying to shut my mind up by keeping busy, but... didn't really work. Was it really that obvious?"
"Only if you know what signs to look for." Bodhi gets back into bed and pulls you on top of him, letting you curl up with your head on his chest. "The usual stuff?" he asks.
You nod.
You've been struggling with depression ever since the apostasy, your parents' execution. Somehow you pushed through, long enough to make it to your second year at Basgiath, but despite what everyone used to tell you, it never got any easier.
Being in a place as deadly as the Riders Quadrant isn't exactly helpful, either. That very first day when you'd had to cross the parapet, you'd come close to just throwing yourself into the ravine below. The two hundred foot drop had seemed as good a way to go as any, and unlike the many other methods you had considered over the years, it would have looked like an accident. Just another candidate that slipped and fell. It had been Bodhi who'd stopped you — and quickly became your best friend and anchor. Walking behind you on the parapet, he'd reached where you were standing halfway across, frozen in indecision. He hadn't known why you'd stopped and stood there, and you hadn't told him — not then —, but his kindness had been enough to make you decide to live another day. When others might have simply shoved you over the edge and out of their way or barked at you to keep moving, Bodhi had remained patient, and gotten you walking again with gentle encouragement. Safely on the other side, neither of you had said a word about what had happened, talking about the quadrant and what lay ahead of you instead.
After getting assigned to the same squad, it had been a matter of days for the two of you to become so close you were practically attached at the hip most of the time.
This year, with Bodhi having been made the executive officer for Tail Section, you haven't been able to spend as much time together anymore, which is taking more of a toll on you than you care to admit. Thank the gods Bodhi makes time for you whenever he can, including in the middle of the night. Words can't express how grateful you are to have him, and you often wonder what you did to deserve someone as wonderful as him in your life.
"Tell me what you need," he says now. "Cuddles? Sex? A midnight flight?"
"Fuck my brains out, please."
He grins and kisses your forehead before flipping the both of you around so he is on top. "Gladly."
Moments later, both of your clothes are gone, and Bodhi kneels between your legs, rock-hard under the featherlight brush of your hand. His lips crash into yours in a kiss so hungry it seems he's stealing the very breath from your lungs. It's exactly what you need, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, try to pull him closer even as he's already lying flat on top of you, his weight a comfort that anchors you in the here and now.
Not breaking the kiss, you push your hips up, grinding against him. Bodhi gets the message and slides a hand in between your bodies, moving it right to your core without hesitation. He smirks against your lips when he feels how wet you already are. As if he isn't just as turned on from just a few touches. Either way, you can't find it in you to care how pathetically desperate you sound as you beg for more.
Bodhi obliges your whines, two fingers easily sliding inside you. Slowly pumping them in and out of you, he trails kisses down your neck until he reaches your chest. His teeth graze your nipple, tongue darting out to swirl around the hardened bud. It's nice, but not nearly enough. While it can be fun to spend hours going back and forth teasing each other, you're not at all in the mood for extensive foreplay tonight.
"Bodhi," you whine. "Don't waste time being gentle. Want it rough tonight."
"Alright, alright," he chuckles, pulling his fingers from you to grab your hips and flip you around. His grip tightens, pulling you back until you get your knees under you.
You make to push yourself up on your arms, but one of Bodhi's hands goes between your shoulders, pressing you back down into the mattress. You whimper, back arching as wetness pools between your thighs. Having Bodhi manhandle you like this has got to be one of the hottest things ever, and he knows damn well that you think so — this is far from the first time you've asked him to be rough with you.
Having you ass up, face down like this seems to be his favorite position on those occasions, and while you're happy with any position that allows him to go hard and deep, you've grown rather fond of it, too. There's just something about being facedown and vulnerable, completely at his mercy, unable to look at him. The fact that any sounds you make will be muffled into the mattress is just an another bonus.
An impatient wiggle of your hips only earns you a light smack on your ass, but then, finally, Bodhi is bending over you, pushing into you while still holding your head down with one hand. He goes slow enough not to hurt you, but knows better than to still inside you to let you adjust to the stretch. After the first few gentle thrusts he picks up the pace, urged on by your pleas for more.
Your thoughts are still spinning round and round, making it difficult to focus on the physical pleasure, but you know Bodhi will take care of it. He'll gradually get rougher until he's fucking you so hard there's not a single thought left in your head. You just wish your brain would hurry up and take the hint to switch off already.
"Harder, Bodhi, please," you whine, words muffled by the mattress your face is still pressed against.
Your best friend obliges, slamming into you with all the force he can muster, which is considerable. Paired with the hand he has on your clit, it doesn't take long until heat curls in your belly, release lurking just around the corner. But Bodhi knows what it takes to turn you into a mindless puddle, and pauses just when you're about to come.
Edging is the perfect substitute for hurting yourself, and the desperation that comes with it never fails to drown out your depression. Already, the thoughts plaguing your mind seem quieter, receding just like the orgasm you'd been so close too.
Bodhi doesn't give you any warning before he starts slamming into you again, both hands gripping your hips now. The sudden action makes you yelp, clutching the dark sheets as your whole body is driven forward with every hard thrust.
"F-fuck, Bodhi!"
"Hmm? Still not rough enough for you?"
"No, 's p— ngg— perfect," you moan, head turned to the side now that he isn't holding it down anymore.
From the corner of your eye, you catch the smile on his face, a matching one involuntarily rising to your own face as his thrusts grow more fervent. You love exploiting his praise kink, to get him all riled up until he's so desperate himself that he forgets all about holding off your orgasm.
Still, he has enough self-control to edge you twice more, until you're begging him to let you come and just about ready to start crying from desperation.
"Hmm, I don't know. Are you really sure you can handle it?"
You nod with as much force as you can in your position, recognizing and ignoring what you know to be a warning that he intends to overstimulate you if he does let you come. "Yes! Please, Bodhi!"
A second later, the ability to form words momentarily leaves you as Bodhi slams back into you, rubbing your clit so fast and hard that in your worked up state you find yourself at the edge almost immediately.
And this time, he keeps going.
Your back arches, letting Bodhi go even deeper as he fucks you through your orgasm, encouraged by the moans you muffle into the mattress. His thrusts quickly become erratic — by edging you as he had, he'd inevitably edged himself, too. Just as your walls stop clenching around him, Bodhi stills and coats them in his warm cum.
It's only his hips that still, though. His hand on your clit continues at the same merciless speed, drawing an endless string of moans and whimpers from your mouth.
The sensation gets to be too much way faster than you expected. One moment you're hoping he'll keep going like this all night long, the next, you're overstimulated and sore, hips reflexively jerking away. But Bodhi holds you in place. He knows you won't want him to stop unless you say your safeword, knows if you don't it means you want him to pound you until you're nothing more than a boneless puddle, or until he can't keep going. From experience, the former is much more likely to occur first.
Already you feel tears gathering in your eyes, and what a relief it is to cry from pleasure instead of despair. Sex with Bodhi is the only time you never bother to suppress your tears, the closest you ever get to letting your emotional walls down.
It's only moments before you feel him get hard again, before he pulls out almost completely to slam back inside with even more force than he had earlier. The rhythm he sets isn't particularly fast, but the way he hits just the right spot with every brutal thrust has you shaking nonetheless.
You don't notice when the first tear rolls down your cheek and you start full-on crying, but Bodhi does.
"What are you crying for?" he mocks. "I thought you wanted it rough?"
Gods, he's good at this. With how nice and considerate he always is, you might think him a softie in bed — and he can be when the mood is right — but he can also be a fucking freak, dominating you to hell and back, all the while making it feel like heaven — just like you need him to when you're feeling the way you are tonight, like the world is a lost cause and life is worthless. You love him for that.
Not quite able to form words, you nod, bucking back into him and praying he takes it as the clue to keep going just like this that it is. Any depressing thoughts are forgotten, but you still need him to tire you out enough to fall asleep. Even if that wasn't the case, it simply feels too good to not keep going as long as you can. You'll be sore as hell in the morning, and tired, but it'll have been worth it.
"That's it," Bodhi praises when you come again. "Good girl. Just— ahh— keep coming for me."
More tears blur your vision as you muffle something between a sob and a cry into your palm, head spinning from the ceaseless stimulation.
Bodhi rubs your clit even harder, your next orgasm chasing right after the last. You writhe under the onslaught, sobs drowning out the pretty moans leaving Bodhi's mouth as he, too, loses himself in the pleasure.
He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you upright so your back is against his chest. The pathetic mewls filling the air sound as if from far away, and you hardly register that it's you making these sounds. By now any coherent thoughts are gone from your head, replaced by blissful numbness as Bodhi pounds you into yet another orgasm.
"There you go," he praises as you shake in his arms. "Doing so well for me."
"T-too much," you whine when he shows no intention of slowing down. "Can't cum anymore, Bodhi!"
"Of course you can, baby. It hurts so good, doesn't it?"
"Mhhm, y-yes, but I really don't k-know if I can again."
"Shh. You don't have to worry your pretty little head about that. Just leave it to me. You wanted me to fuck your brains out, remember?"
You do — vaguely. The hazy state of your mind proves just how well he's worn you out, the sleep that evaded you for so long already reaching for you and trying to drag you under, even as Bodhi undeterredly continues to steer you toward yet another orgasm.
"One more, okay?' he pants, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Then we'll go to sleep."
Nodding, you bite down on his arm to ground yourself, and embrace the overstimulating pleasure of his hand on your clit rubbing away all other thoughts and sensations. You hover right on the edge for what feels like minutes. Through the pain and pleasure blurring your mind, you're starting to think you really have reached a point where you physically can't come anymore, but just as you open your mouth to voice the thought and ask Bodhi to stop for real, your orgasm finally hits you with such force it knocks the breath from your lungs. You can only hang limp in Bodhi's arms, barely getting out a high pitched mewl as you come so hard you think you actually black out for a second.
When you regain awareness of your surroundings, Bodhi is pulling out of you, warm cum seeping down your thighs until he reaches for a piece of clothing from the floor and uses it to wipe away the worst of the mess.
"How are you feeling now?" he asks, gently laying you down on your back with him between your legs, pushed up on his elbows to keep most of his weight off you.
"Great," you sleepily mumble, tilting your head up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks."
"Of course," he replies, kissing the top of your head in turn. "Do you want to go get cleaned up before we sleep?"
"Nh-nh. Too tired."
"Alright then," he chuckles, getting comfortable beside you and pulling you into his arms. "Good night."
"Good night, Bodhi."
#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing smut#bodhi durran x reader#bodhi durran#fourth wing imagine#female!reader#afab!reader#marked!reader#smut
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I originally had a totally different idea for this but I think I may just do a part 2 hehehe. ALSO IF ANYONE GOT ANY GOOD 07 DONNIE FICS ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Warnings: NONE JUST DONNIE BEING A CUTE GRUMPY DORK.
Another day another long boring shift full of talking to idiotic people who don’t know the difference between hardware and software and explaining to one too many elderly people that ‘No, you cannot print out the Internet.’
He’s just finished a call, rubbing the space between his eyes as he feels his daily headache come on. He’s impressed that he’s managed to nearly finish his workday without it appearing until now. He groans low in his throat, debating on getting up to grab a glass of water so he can take a pill or just sucking it up these last 30 minutes.
He gets his answer when an incoming call rings through his headset, making Donnie roll his eyes hard and into the back of his skull. He inhales deeply through his nose to prepare himself, letting it out when he clicks on a key to answer the phone.
“Thank you for calling tech support, this is Donatello speaking, how can I help you today.” He doesn’t bother putting on his customer service voice, his headache dully throbbing now as he waits for the other person on the line to start rambling about their dumb issue.
“Hi, how are you today?” You say, giving the standard pleasantries before delving into your computer issue.
Typical, of course his last call would try to make small talk.
“I’m fine ma’am, thank you. How can I help you today?” He repeats it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again and leans back in his chair, swaying gently side to side. He thinks about what he should eat after, his eyes trailing to the clock in the Lair that signifies in big red letters that it’s nearly 2 a.m. Not the latest he’s stayed up but today’s shift was particularly exhausting. Maybe it’s the full moon or something, ‘Mercury in Gatorade’ as Mikey would sometimes call it.
“Hello?”
Shit. He totally just fucking zoned out on you.
“Apologies ma’am, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?” Great, he just extended this call by about 2 minutes.
“Oh, that’s alright! I’m dealing with an issue with my laptop’s ability to open programs fast. It’s taking forever just to open something and I’m not quite sure why.” You repeat your issue, quietly sighing as you aimlessly move your mouse around your screen, hoping that the guy on the other side will be able to help with you.
Donnie immediately knows what the problem could be; slow processing speeds a fairly common issue for him but thankfully an easy fix.
So he starts by asking the standard questions: do you have any programs that take a lot of space? Any tabs open that you aren’t using? Anything running in the background?
When you tell him ‘no, no and no’, that’s when he sits up from his chair and squints his eyes. If those aren’t the cause of your laptops slow speed then what could it be?
“Well,”
Ah, there it is.
“I do play a few games but those have never caused me problems before. Could that be it?”
Normally Donatello’s irritation would increase when the customer would ‘suddenly remember’ something that could be pausing their problem. You, however? Didn’t spark that within him for some reason. In fact, besides your calm demeanor, it’s the way you spoke so kindly to him combined with the fact that you also game apparently that has Donnie not wanting to snap at you.
“Like what?” He asks, being sure to keep it professional.
And when you list his all time favorite game among some others that he’s obsessed with, he has to practically force himself to not totally geek out. Sure he’s played some of the popular games nowadays like League or Valorant, but hearing you say that you modded some old PS1 games to play on your laptop practically skyrockets his excitement.
Which in turn makes his headache pound harder.
He’s unable to keep himself from hissing when a pang shoots right through his skull, knowing you heard it when you trail off your sentence.
“Are you alright?”
Maybe it’s because he’s had a long day or maybe it’s because this seems to be shifting into a migraine, but the concern and sincerity in your voice makes an odd feeling bubble in Donnie’s chest. Surely no one would ever be genuinely worried over an I.T guy, not when you have more pressing matters on your hands.
“My apologies miss, I’m just uh, dealing with a bit of a headache right now. Although I think it’s turning into a migraine.” He grunts through his clenched jaw, swinging carefully around in his chair as he searches for his bottle of Advil only to suck his teeth when he shakes the container and hears absolutely nothing rattling around.
“Oh no, I’m sorry! Do you want to go grab some medicine? I don’t mind waiting.”
The corner of Donnie’s lip twitches upward. He brings his hands to massage at his temples, the motions doing something to relieve the tension in his head but not nearly enough.
“I unfortunately just discovered that I’m out of medicine. But that’s alright, I’ll pick some up after this call.” He doesn’t bother hiding his sigh, settling back in his seat as he prepares to ask you more questions to help you out.
“What about any oils? Got any of those? Usually lavender or peppermint do the trick.” You put him on speaker and go to your Safari on your phone to begin looking up other remedies, wanting to assist this poor I.T man.
Donnie’s not quite sure why you’re trying to be helpful but at this point he doesn’t exactly care, the throbbing getting worse by the second.
“It could also be too much pressure, literally, around your head. Do you wear headbands or anything like that? Could also be your headphones.”
“No, no headbands. And my headphones have cushioning all around so not those either.” He responds, debating on texting Mikey to bring him the peppermint oil that April bought for Splinter last Christmas.
“Ah, a man of comfort.” You laugh, fingers quickly typing in your question into the search engine.
Donnie finds himself smiling faintly at the sound, a fleeting thought of ‘Wow, I want to hear that again’ passing through his brain.
“Well, I can’t use regular headphones for gaming. I’m also a fan of those games that you play.”
You blink in surprise, your scrolling faltering for half a second before continuing on.
“No way, really?”
And so you talk for the next 20 minutes about said games; reliving memories, talking about specific moments you wish you could experience again, the soundtracks, the characters. Everything.
For the first 10 minutes, Donnie kept reminding himself that he was just prolonging his work call, that he should drive the focus back onto your issue so he can hang up and clock out. But the more he talked to you, the more he said ‘fuck it’ and allowed himself this one rare moment of normalcy.
He also nearly forgot about his raging migraine, until it pleasantly reminded him that it was still present with a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes.
It’s what snaps him back to reality, his face grimacing from the white hot torment happening in his skull.
“I’m so sorry, we should really get back to your computers issues.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
God, why did he feel so awful saying that? And why did it make his stomach twist when hearing just how disappointed you sounded? It’s something he’ll have to dissect later, not when he’s already 30 minutes past the standard call time for support.
“Let’s see what we’re working with here.”
This is one of the rare times Donnie wishes he wasn’t so smart with technology because in less than 5 minutes he solves your problem. He wishes he could just be a little average to talk to you more even if it’s computer stuff.
“Alright, you shouldn’t have a problem anymore. Anything else I can help you with?”
Please say yes please say yes please say yes.
“No, I’m all good. Thank so much Donatello!”
“Donnie! You can call me Donnie.”
Fuck.
“Just your friendly I.T tech support here to help you 24 hours a day.”
Double fuck.
Why did he say that? It’s standard spiel protocol but still, how utterly lame…
You can’t help but giggle at him, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much from this total stranger.
“Alright then, Donnie. I’ll know who to ask for if I ever need help again.”
He smiles and asks for your name, just so he’ll know who he’s talking to if you ever do call again. He repeats it back to you once you tell him, the word rolling off his tongue in such a way that makes you feel giddy and grinning like a kid in a candy store.
“Have a good night, please don’t hesitate to call back if you’re still experiencing technical difficulties.”
And by Darwin he hopes you do.
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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 1)
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.2k] A trip to Charleston leads to a wild chase through Kooksville and an unexpected reunion that turns the pogues worlds upside down, amongst other heartbreaking events...
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mentions of firearms, unestablished relationship, poor communication, tw // jiara mentioned, mild angst
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ don't shoot me pookies, it's for plot value😬
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND THE FOUR OF YOU WERE RIGHT BACK IN MR. SUNN’S CLASS. You had a permanent smile on your face from last night and something had shifted between you and JJ in the hours between then and now. While you were driving to school in the car you two had fixed up together, you’d made a joke about him being your passenger princess, the blonde laughing and then absentmindedly planting his hand on your thigh for the rest of the ride.
You were starting to feel like yourself after weeks of walking around like a ghost and you were holding out hope that after this was all over, once the cloud passed fully, that you could give JJ the answer he deserved.
Right now, you were muffling laughs as Mr. Sunn rambled about the current unit topic, you and JJ sending tiktoks back and forth, phones hidden under the desks.
“Mr.Sunn,” A man emerged in the open doorway, dressed down in a suit with an envelope between his fingers. Your laughter died as your attention went to him. “Can I borrow Mr. Heyward for a moment?”
The teacher looked dumbfounded between Pope and the man at the door, chalk clutched between his fingers. “Uh, we’re in the middle of a lesson.”
“My apologies, it won't be long. I’m from the Vanderhorst Foundation, Mr.Heyward was previously in the running for our scholarship.” He pressed once more, Mr.Sunn sighing and giving in, motioning for Pope to get up. Pope looked at the three of us before getting and leaving the room.
Your eyes met JJ’s across the room, both shrugging. Kiara was too engrossed with trying to peek out of the door from her seat. Even though the classroom was fairly quiet, it was still too far to hear any part of the conversation.
Maybe he was there to offer Pope another chance which would be, for one, great but also impeccably poor timing. You glanced up at your teacher as his attention turned back to the board, slouching in your chair and shooting a text in the group chat the four of you had.
You
think they’re giving him his spot back?
Kie
doubt it, the deadline’s more than dead :/
JJ
maybe they still want him, pope’s a certified genius
Just then, Pope came power walking back into the classroom, turning a few heads as he did so. He practically fell into his seat, turning around to face you, JJ, and Kie, holding the envelope the man from the foundation had in his hand just minutes ago — flipping it to reveal the very same wheat symbol that was branded into the gold bars.
“What the fu-” JJ started, gaining the attention of Mr.Sunn who had very teacher like expression of warning, causing JJ to trip over his words. “Fu-fudge…” He cleaned up. The teacher gave him a look and turned back around in his chair.
“We’ll talk about it after class.” Pope whispered, nodding and turning around his seat.
THE FOUR OF YOU BOOKED IT TO THE LIBRARY AS SOON AS THE BELL RANG, the middle-aged hag of a librarian shushing you at the door. You found an empty table and crowded it as soon as possible, all ears waiting on Pope.
“That was the guy from the scholarship committee.” He started, putting the envelope in the middle of the table. “But that’s not all. Read it.” He urged, JJ being the first to swipe up the letter but he hesitated to read. You were sat next to him, the both of you across from Kie and Pope, so you leaned over his shoulder.
“What? What’s wrong?” You asked. JJ angled the paper in your direction, eyeing the two people in front of him nervously as you immediately spotted the problem — the letter was written in cursive. JJ couldn’t read cursive. “Oh, it’s fine, I got it.” You reassured, gently taking the letter from the blonde’s hands.
“What?” Kiara asked, brown eyes fleeting between the both of you. JJ shook his head, wiping his palms on the fabric of his cargo shorts.
“Nothin’. I just, I can’t read cursive.” He dismissed cooly but you could tell the subject made him slightly insecure. “What does it say?” He deflected, looking back at you.
You cleared your throat before reading, paper clutched between both of your hands. “Dear Mr.Heyward, I am reaching out because I may have material evidence that can exonerate John Booker Routledge…” You trailed off, shocked eyes meeting those around the table before you continued reading. “...It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my offices at twenty-seven King Street, Charleston at eight PM sharp, tonight. Please come alone…?” Your face twisted at that. No way in hell was that happening. “Regards, C.Limbrey.”
“Charleston?” JJ exclaimed incredulously, eyeing Pope’s endlessly pacing figure. “That’s like an eight-hour drive.”
“Plus, the ferry.” You added. “If you want any chance of getting there tonight we’d have to leave, like, right now.”
“I have a free period.” Kie shrugged, sighing. “I gotta tell my mom, though…”
“Alright but guys?” You piped up, meeting each of their eyes before continuing. “If we get it this time, there’s no way in hell we are giving it to Shoupe. It's gotta go to higher ups or some shit.”
“Agreed.” JJ nodded, standing from his seat and grabbing his backpack, you following his lead before Pope, who was crouched in front of the library computer, spoke up.
“I think whoever this Limbrey person is, they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant.” He told the three of you, JJ and you sharing a look before rounding the table to stand behind the boy at the computer, a webpage pulled up — a biography for ‘Captain Herman Limbrey’.
Well. Charleston it is, then.
“I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!” Kiara’s mom’s voice traveled through the rolled down windows of Heyward’s truck. You, JJ, and Pope were sat with the music playing lowly as Kiara attempted to reason with her parents about where she was going.
The family of three was visible from the driveway, but you could no longer hear the conversation as their voices lowered.
“They’re takin’ it really well.” JJ quipped sarcastically. You were sat in the middle of the two boys, Heyward’s truck not having a backseat made this drive even more dreadful. “How’d you get this rig?” The blonde asked the boy in the driver’s seat, referring to his father’s truck. “I know your old man didn’t let you have it.”
Pope spoke absentmindedly, eyes too focused on the girl arguing with her parents some feet away. “I undid the intake valves on the carburetor, made it start pinging.”
JJ nodded his head in approval, shifting his weight in the seat. “Mm, and now you’re just gonna 'take it to your cousin Jeff’s house, just gonna get it fixed, and crash overnight’.” He suggested to which Pope agreed. “I think I’m rubbin’ off on you, Pope. Lyin’ to your old man, stealin’ his truck…”
You quickly nudged the blonde in his side, shooting him a look. He held his hands up in mock surrender and bowed his head. “Ma bad. Sore subject.”
Pope simply sighed, tipping the hat on his head. “I’d say we have about eighteen hours before my pops loses his shit. So long as we get it back before then, we should be good.” Just then, Kiara came storming in the direction of the vehicle, yelling at her parents over her shoulder.
“I’m not going to boarding school!” She shouted, JJ opening the door for the both of you to get out and allow her into the car but she paused in her tracks when her dad began shouting.
“Look at your life, right now! Look at your life!” Kiara looked around at the three of you and then back at her father, shrugging carelessly and not sparing a word. Pope then peeked his head out of the driver’s side window.
“I, um, I promise to have her back at a reasonable hour and safe.” He threw out, holding his hand up as if he was asking permission. Kiara looked at him, shaking her head.
“Kiara, listen to me,” Her mother started, not exactly yelling but her voice traveled clearly. “You wanna go? Then go. But if you don’t come back at the proper time, then don’t. Come back. At all!”
You turned to Kie from your place next to JJ. “Hey, don't even worry about it. It’s the same threat each time, you know they won’t go through with it.” You told her quietly, in hopes of not offending her parents but offering her some sort of comfort.
Kiara didn’t say a word as she ducked into the car, you piling in as JJ squished himself in next to you.
“This shit would be so much easier without parents...” She scoffed, throwing her bag down on the car floor as JJ shut the passenger side door.
You and him both shared a look, knowing Kie probably didn’t fully think about what she was saying or who was around. You both grimaced at one another before looking away.
“God, 's so hot in here.” She complained throwing her head back. “Remind me why we didn’t take your car again?” She directed the question at you. “I mean, isn’t it drive-able now? You and JJ spent like every day working on it…”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the willpower to make it to Charleston and back just yet.” You told her with a small shrug. The girl simply groaned, trying to adjust herself in between you and Pope so it wasn’t so tight.
“Okay, could you stop moving like that? It’s making it hard to drive.” Pope inquired, pulling out of her driveway and heading down the road.
“There’s no space dude, there’s twice as many people in here than this car was built for.”
“Okay, JJ and Y/N, can you guys lap up or something?” The suggestion almost made you cough. Sitting on JJ’s lap for the next few hours did not seem like a good idea, considering recent events.
“Why can’t she sit on my lap?” Kiara asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Because she’ll block the rearview.” Pope threw out, annoyance growing in his tone.
You looked to JJ for some kind of reassurance, he simply nodded and motioned his hands for you to come on. The car was still moving so you tried your best to be careful, the blonde spreading his legs to make a little more room for you to sit between them.
Once you had yourself settled, it was almost like JJ didn’t know where to put his hands. He had them planted on his on thighs beforehand so he accidentally laid a hand on your thigh before quickly removing it.
“My bad.” He muttered nervously. You could see his face faintly in the passenger side mirror.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one kind of in your space, right now.” You shrugged, trying your best to come off nonchalant, as if this whole scenario didn’t make your heart go crazy.
“You sure? I mean, I got pockets, I can just-”
“It’s cool, JJ.” You cut him off reassuringly, the blonde hesitating before letting his hand make home on your thigh. You didn’t know how to sit, if you should lean back on him, anything. But you figured if you made it awkward, it was going to be awkward. So you took a deep breath and simply leaned back into him, the boy making no protest about the movement.
The only thing you couldn’t ignore was the growing erection that was pressing against your leg, harder by the minute. Heyward’s truck was no smooth riding vehicle, so the ride was quite bumpy. You could still see JJ’s face in the passenger side mirror and he looked mortified.
Neither of you were stupid — if you could feel it, you knew he definitely could. And if he could feel it, he felt terrible knowing you could too.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered out, coming out more like a sigh as he ran a hand down his face. You shifted your eyes to the left to see Kie on her phone and Pope was too occupied with driving, probably deep in thought about how much trouble he was going to be in if his pops found out about all this.
“It’s-” You cleared your throat before speaking, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s fine. Shit happens.”
“Nah, it’s not.” He groaned. “I can try and move so you can sit more on the seat-”
You cut him off quickly. “We’ll be at the Ferry dock soon. Honestly, JJ. Don’t sweat it.” You said finally.
The action did make a small well of discomfort bubble in your stomach with your last sexual encounter being non consensual and traumatizing. Just because it was JJ didn't quell any of your anxiety but you were trying not to live life as a victim.
A few deep breaths and you were calming down.
You could understand his humiliation and had your relationship with him been in different place, maybe you two would have laughed it off. But with this newfound depth of your “friendship”, it had you both sitting in silence the rest of the ride.
“MY PARENTS ARE SO PARANOID ABOUT ME BEING A POGUE LIKE IT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN…” Kiara complained leaning against the passenger door of the truck. The four of you had it made it to the ferry just in time to catch the current ride. You and JJ, who was rolling a blunt, were sat in the back of the pick-up truck across from one another, Pope leaning on the side paying the three of you no mind. The awkwardness between you two had alleviated by the time you reached The Ferry, but the situation still lingered in your mind.
Seagulls squawked as the boat sailed the water, the sizable ship making its way slowly but surely.
“Hey, I hear they got good weed at boarding schools, though.” He replied optimistically. “Y’know, ‘cause all the rich kids got a shit ton of money to blow.”
Kie shrugged, dismissing the blonde’s hopeful piece of information. “I’m not going to boarding school.” She protested firmly. “If they want me to go, they’ll have to kidnap me. I don’t even know what their problem is. I mean, my dad was a pogue, you know that, obviously…” She trailed off, throwing an arm out in your direction. “They’re so hypocritical and overbearing. Why can’t my parents be more like yours?”
You couldn’t contain your expression of offense at Kiara’s words, the statement flowing so freely from her lips. So carelessly. “...You want a dead father and an underlying criminal mother who couldn’t give less of a shit about you?” The question was rhetorical but you wondered how she planned on explaining herself.
“Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that.” She cocked her head as if you were being unreasonable. “It’s just that, you can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier for you without parents watching your every move and breathing down your neck. That’s... all I was saying...”
You drew your lips into a thin line, arms crossing defensively. “Okay, well, my dad was murdered and my mother probably had something to do with it. Not to mention she tried to kill me, so not having two parents hasn't really been a choice for me, Kiara. But hey, ‘can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier’ for it, right?”
“I wasn’t saying-” She tried to defend with half a scowl on her face before Pope jumped in, JJ tapping your shoulder and offering you the blunt he’d been preparing. You took his from between his fingers, taking a long drag as Pope spoke.
“Okay, can we not argue? Please? I’m already mildly seasick enough as is.” He suggested, Kiara muttering a ‘fine’ under her breath as she adjusted her ponytail. “Kie, have you tried to hit JB back on that number?”
“Like, twenty-million times.” She groaned. “Some random lady at a hotel keeps picking up the phone.”
Pope sighed, shifting his weight. “Well, until they contact us again, we gotta keep trying to clear John B’s name. Right now? This letter is our best bet.” He concluded, rubbing his hands over his head. You turned slightly to be able to see him, offering the joint to the boy.
His eyes fleeted between Kie and the smoking object, contemplating. She simply crossed her legs and arms, offering the boy a mischievous smile. “What Pope are you gonna be today?” She asked.
He seemed to ponder for a few more moments before shaking his head, you retracting the blunt and passing it back to JJ as he spoke to Kiara. “I’m good, gotta stay focused.”
“I’ll take that.” JJ offered himself up, plucking the rolled object from your fingers with a smile.
Kiara simply nodded, her smile flattening out into a grimace. “Good Pope…” She said. “Boring Pope.” And you didn’t miss the way Pope’s face fell.
“I’VE READ THIS LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES AND IT STILL MAKES NO SENSE.” Kie explained from her place between Pope and JJ, you once again on the blonde’s lap as Pope cruised through Charleston. You’d gotten off the ferry a few hours ago, the sun now lower in the sky. “The Limbrey’s own like half of Charleston. What do some elite Kooks from Charleston known about a murder on Kildare?”
“I’m more concerned about why Pope specifically?” JJ questioned, eyes looking up at the driver.
“Yeah. ‘Please come alone’? That’s off-putting, to say the least.” You added, sitting almost slanted in JJ’s lap in order to lean on the door. You were both a little hazy from the weed so your nerves were a lot calmer.
“I had the same thought.” Pope chipped in. “I was thinking it’s probably because-” He cut himself off as a cloud of smoke erupted from the hood of his dad’s truck, blinding the road ahead. “Aw, shit, come on!”
“Pull over.” Kie demanded. “Jesus, that’s a lot of smoke. Even for your dad’s truck…” JJ began cough, you using your hand to cover his mouth as he rolled up the window. When he had it successfully rolled up, he gently removed your hand from his mouth.
“Pope, I got sensitive lungs, dude.” He coughed out. A filter of smoke filled the car, you trying to wave it from in front of your face as it made your eyes burn.
“I’m pulling over, okay?” Pope assured, but the car wasn’t slowing down. Pope swerved to the side but instead of pulling over, the car kept going off the curb until it was cruising through a patch of grass next to a quiet farm and you didn’t miss the rim that fell off of one wheel fly by the driver’s side window.
“Every time we let Pope drive, nothing goes right.” You muttered as the car came to an abrupt stop, the hood still smoking. You heard the engine die as Pope put both hands on top of his head.
“No, no, no…” He whined as he hopped out of the car, JJ following suit and helping you before jumping out himself.
“It’s gonna blow up.” Kie worried, crawling out of the passenger side herself.
“It’s not gonna blow up.” JJ told her, coughing one last time and rounding the hood as Pope attempted to fan the smoke away with his hat. “You most likely unhooked the radiator, Pope.” JJ suggested, eyeing the state of the vehicle. “Damn, you knocked the entire hubcap off.”
“Yeah, the Limbrey’s might have to take a rain check for tonight.” You added, scratching the back of your neck and eyeing Pope pitifully. The boy had a look on his face — somewhere between terror and disbelief.
“There’s still, uh, public transportation?” Kiara tried to reason, not seeming completely sure about the suggestion herself. You took it upon yourself to life the hood and examine the parts yourself, picking up a little bit about cars here and there from JJ.
“Yeah, it’s definitely the radiator…” You said aloud, sighing. Pope groaned loudly behind you.
“My dad’s gonna kill me!”
“No, he won't. I’m sure-” You were about to reassure the boy before you took one glance back at the car. The smoking, hubcap-less, mess of a car. “Okay, he might. He might…”
“Look, Pope, buddy, I’m sure there’s somethin’ we can do, right?” JJ offered, putting a hand on the solemn boy’s shoulder. You took the time to pull out your phone, you didn’t have many bars out here but enough to open up the ‘Maps’ app on your phone.
“There’s a mechanic garage about fifteen miles south of here.” You announced, looking out at your three friends. “Think your dad’s truck can make it fifteen more miles?”
THE SUN HAD COMPLETELY SET BY THE TIME THE FOUR OF YOU MADE IT TO THE GARAGE. What should’ve been a mere thirty-minute car ride took nearly an hour, Pope being too afraid to drive more than twenty miles an hour and making a pit stop to check under the hood again.
The boy in question was inside, negotiating with the owner of the shop. It was some place called Archie’s Auto Repairs, right next to a gas station and rest stop. You figured you were killing about three birds with one stone – car repair, refuel, and food.
JJ and Kiara were waiting in the truck while Pope spoke to the man in charge and you went inside to relieve yourself and get snacks. You were in the gas station bathroom, finishing up with washing your hands when you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Surprisingly, you didn’t look like complete shit. Your hair was a bit frizzy and you look tired but you looked better than you had in the last month. You felt better than you had in the last month. Ever since that text from John B came through, it felt like everything was returning back to it’s normal state, like your life had hit the refresh button.
And maybe after everything settles and John B is cleared, things could be different but in a good way. This new life you were building, with JJ and Marley, it was starting to make you envision you had never really seen before. A life with JJ as something more than a best friend. You’d thought about him like that a few times throughout your friendship but it was JJ. You needed him and you didn’t want to ruin something so special because you had an on and off crush. But this one stuck. Maybe it was the kiss, or the almost sleeping together, you didn’t know. But something in your head was screaming at you to give it a shot. Something inside of you was reaching for him, calling out for him.
So maybe, once everything was okay again, you could figure that out.
Leaving the restroom, you cruised down the aisles of the shops — candy bars, chip bags, and sugary drinks, the whole selection look appetizing when you hadn’t eaten in over five hours. You grabbed four sodas and two family sized bags of chips and took them up to the register, the older, gross looking man eyeing you up and down as he scanned your items.
“That’ll be nineteen sixty-eight.” He slurred, bagging your goods as you fished for the twenty in your back pocket. “You’re a pretty little thang, aren’t ya? How old are ya, darlin’?” He asked, leaning his arms on the cashier’s counter, bumping the register. You cringed, sliding the bill across the surface.
“Not old enough.” You sassed, snatching the bag from the counter and leaving out the door, the bell ringing above you as you left. “Perv.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as your rounded the corner of the shop to see the truck come into view.
Just as quickly as you rounded the corner, you hid behind it. Your heart had stopped for a moment as your registered exactly what it was you had just seen. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly peeked your head around the corner to find that your eyes had in fact not deceived you — Kiara and JJ were kissing in the trunk of Heyward’s pick-up. She had both of her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face into hers as his own gripped the side of the truck for stability.
You immediately tore your eyes away when they pulled apart, hiding behind the wall once more. You couldn’t hear them. Maybe you were grateful for that. You were torn between wanting to cry and wanting lash out on them both. But maybe you had no right, maybe you were the fool in this situation.
It was JJ. JJ Maybank. Half of the female pogue population could probably describe in detail what was hidden beneath his pants. And Kiara? Well, who would turn her down? But she was supposed to be “with” Pope and JJ was giving you all types of green lights. But maybe you were blind and couldn’t see them for the red flags that they clearly were.
But you refused to cry. But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed. You felt a bit played, in all honesty. And by JJ of all people. And how could Kie do that to Pope when he’s less than ten feet away? They weren’t together or anything, sure. But rules of friendship and respect just seemed so thrown out of the window in the past sixty seconds.
So, shaking it off, you rounded the corner with the bag in hand. JJ was scratching the top of his head while Kie fiddled with her fingers in her lap before his eyes found you, immediately perking up.
“And the potty princess returns!” He threw his hands up in celebration. “Ooh, did she bring snacks? What’s in the bag?” He asked, coming closer. When he reached you, you pressed the bag into his chest, attempting to keep him at a distance. Letting him have the bag and not even sparing the two another glance, you hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle, absentmindedly slamming the door shut in your silent rage. You hadn’t realized that one of your hands was balled into a tight fist. Loosing your hand, you left crescent-shaped marks in your palm.
You didn’t know how you felt or what you wanted to do about. So you just sat there, listening to the night air, the crickets, the cars that passed by. You felt like JJ had just stomped on your heart and you weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him for it. But you should’ve known.
You’re a pogue. There’s always a calm before the storm. Nothing good comes without something bad.
A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED. Pope had found an empty field to park the truck in — shaded by a large, thriving willow tree. None of you really had enough money for a hotel and the money spent on one would be a waste, anyway.
Surprisingly, there was no night chill in Charleston. The four of you opted to sleep in the trunk of the pick-up, using your jackets and flannels as blankets for comfort. You hadn’t spoken since witnessing what happened at the garage, even Pope was taking weird glances at you the entire ride.
At this moment, Pope was knocked out, Kiara right behind him. You felt a snarl of disgust edge your way onto your face when she leaned over to peck the curly-haired boy on his cheek before closing her own eyes and drifting off. What was she doing?
A part of you was angry that she and JJ kissed, of course. JJ had led you on with this ruse of giving yourselves time to figure out what was going between you two — whether is was grief-driven or genuine. And Kiara had been playing tug-o-war with Pope’s feelings for weeks, months almost, and the moment he has his back turned, she locks lips with his best friend.
As a friend group, you all had your moments. But you never went behind each other’s backs. Especially never like this.
So, you slept alone. As alone as you could, anyway. You were curled up in the farthest place in the trunk from the other three, closest to the front of the vehicle itself. The pit in your stomach was finally starting to settle as the beginning of sleep started to overtake you when a warm hand curled itself around your shoulder, startling you.
Your eyes shot open as you whipped your head to the side to find JJ’s face hovering over yours.
“Jesus.” You whisper-yelled, rolling your eyes before looking at the blonde once more. “What do you want?”
At your standoffish tone of voice and straight to the point question, the boy drew his lips into a thin line, letting his hand slide from your shoulder. “Okay, someone’s grumpy.” He tried to joke, a lazy smile on his face.
You stared blankly at him for a few beats, blinking. “Goodnight, JJ-”
“Okay, sorry sorry…” He protested quickly, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t wake the other two when the volume and pitch of his voice raised before looking back at you. You shifted to lay flat on your back, staring up at JJ as he stared down at you, leaning his weight on one of his arms. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been actin’ weird since we left that sketchy ass gas station.”
You simply cocked your head. “What’s wrong with me?” You whispered in response, an air of frustration surrounding your voice. “What’s wrong with you?”
He reeled his neck back at your reversal, his face twisting in confusion. “Wh-Nothing’s wrong with me. You basically threw a bag full of snacks at me and jumped into the truck. Did I say something? Was it the potty princess thing ‘cause you know I was just messin’ around.” He guessed, taking your lack of reaction and response as a sign that maybe that wasn’t the problem. “Did I do somethin’?”
“I don’t know, JJ. You tell me.” You pressed, eyes never leaving his own. He genuinely seemed to rake his brain for answers before settling on one that made your blood boil.
“No, I don’t think I did.” The statement sounded more like a question when it tumbled from his lips. You couldn’t do anything but scoff and roll your eyes, prompting the blonde to try and clean up his answer. “Yes? I don’t know what you want me to say here-”
“Nothing.” You snapped. You were so hurt and angry that you could feel your eyes twitching as you looked at him. “I don’t want you to say anything else to me.” You warned, shifting to turn on your side and effectively away from him. “Ever again.”
“...C’mon, Y/N. Are you just fuckin’ with me or somethin’?” When you didn’t reply, he put a hand on your shoulder, attempting to pull you over to face him. You just shook him off. “Can you tell me what I did?”
The sadness in his voice almost made all the anger fall from your bones but you couldn’t allow yourself to be the weak and vulnerable. Especially not for him. Not anymore.
“No. Now, leave me alone.” You mumbled, shifting to get comfortable for the last time, hearing him sigh and lay down himself behind you. You felt one single tear fall across the bridge of your nose before you closed your eyes. Maybe it was a misunderstanding or something, but your brain couldn’t come up with any explanation of excuse that could explain what you saw. You wanted to talk about it but then again you didn’t. But you knew eventually you’d have to, tonight just wasn’t that night. In a million years, you never thought you’d feel this way because of your best friend.
For the first time in your entire life, you didn’t trust JJ.
“THEY’VE RUN CHARLESTON FOR, LIKE, THREE-THOUSAND YEARS.” Pope explained as the truck pulled to a stop in front of a large, three-story, gated property. It was the next morning and the sun had quite literally just set in the sky. Pope had woken the three of you up at the very first crack of dawn so you could make it there ‘on time’. You’d tried to remind him that ‘on time’ would’ve been last night, but you let him hang on to hope.
It didn’t help that the truck was significantly more crowded. You weren’t eager to sit on JJ’s lap this time around and surprisingly, Kiara wasn’t eager to take your place. Thankfully, the house was only a couple hours from where you slept.
“These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues.” JJ proclaimed, staring out of the window and up at the large, standing building. “You sure this is the place, Pope?” He asked, in awe of the property.
“Pretty sure.” The boy sighed, opening the driver’s side door and exiting, JJ following right after as you and Kie exited the vehicle as well, closing the doors behind them. The four you walked up the black, wrought iron fence. Pope held the note in his hands, reading off the address in confirmation.
“Talk about home security…” JJ trailed off, looking at the rather sizeable, sharp points at the top of the fence.
“Are those spikes to keep people out?” Kiara inquired.
Taking a good look at the property through the bars, you noticed a couple of things. You shook your head, a look of disappointment on your face. “No.” You spoke for the first time in hours, the three of them turning to you as you pointed to a section of the yard. “The slave quarters are over there.” You explained, looking at the three of them. “The spikes were to keep people in.” Was the last thing you said before heading up the steps to the front door, the three of them following behind you.
You let Pope take the reigns when you reached the door, him knocking three times on the structure before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards it from the other side. Despite the footsteps, almost a whole minute went by before anything happened.
Pope, nervous and jittery, went to knock again — getting two good ones in before someone opened the door. A middle-aged white man with small, beady eyes and short light brown hair. The expression on his face didn’t look like one of someone who was expecting guests.
Leaning against the door frame, he eyed the four you individually before settling on Pope, an odd smile growing on his features as he pointed at you friend. “You must be Pope.” He said almost excitedly, crossing his arms. Pope stumbled for a response. “Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. My car…broke down on the way up here.” Pope explained, trying to mask his uneasiness.
“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville.” JJ voiced from behind Pope. He didn’t look nervous at all, he looked ready for anything. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He said, little emotion to his voice despite the apology.
“Yeah, she was, uh, real upset when you didn’t show up.” The man told Pope, a southern twang to his voice, almost as strong as Shoupe’s.
“We tried to call but there’s no number on the invitation.” Kiara piped up smally, looking at the invitation as she spoke. “We got here as fast as we could…”
“She also expected you to come alone.” The male said, eyeing you, Kiara, and JJ as he said it.
“Well, he didn’t, so…” You added in, crossing your arms and eyeing the man up and down. “Where’s the ‘she’ with all these demands anyway?”
Pope edged in front of you when the man took a threatening step forward, JJ also shuffling forwards. “Look, these are my friends. They helped find the Royal Merchant, too-”
“The instructions were explicit.” He cut Pope off mid-sentence, eyes boring into yours as he leaned forward, his voice lowering to a condescending whisper. “Your friends…can stay outside.” He reprimanded, straightening out and turning back to Pope.
“We’re kind of a package deal, man.” JJ turned his nose up at the man standing between the four of you and the inside of the house.
Pope turned to the blonde. “JJ, it’s okay. I got this.” He assured, sending a small nod his way. JJ took his words at face value, sending a nod in return and taking a step back.
“We’ll be right here…” Kiara trailed off in support, sliding a gentle hand down the length of Pope’s arm. You simply rolled your eyes, something JJ didn’t fail to notice.
“We’ll keep the car running…” You warned, eyes never leaving the suspicious man in the doorframe.
“Well, c’mon now. Ms.Limbrey can’t wait to see you.” He said, stepping aside to allow a weary Pope into the mansion. The boy in question entered the home, not without a glance back at the three of you out on the front step, the door closing menacingly slow behind him.
“Fucking creep.” You scoffed, turning and heading down the steps swiftly.
“Hey, where are you going?” Kiara asked, running after you, watching as you walked the length of the wrought iron fence, examining the spikes.
“What does it look like? I’m gonna find a way into this…house of horrors.” You mumbled, shaking each of the poles for a weak spot, failing to find one. You resorted to attempting to climb the fence but didn’t even manage to get both feet up onto the structure at once.
“And do what exactly? What if you trespass and ruin all our chances at clearing John B’s name?” The girl asked, her face twisting in annoyance as you sighed and hopped down off the fence, turning to face her. Shifting your weight, you shoved your hands into your back pockets before speaking.
“Oh, like you did when you made Pope drop the camera?.” You shrugged, jutting out your bottom lip. “Y’know, the one that had the video of Ward killing someone-”
“That wasn’t even my fault!” She defended.
“I think we all collectively agreed that it was…” You argued nonchalantly, shooting the girl a grimace before walking off in the direction of the parked truck that JJ was leaning against, watching the entire interaction occur.
Before you’d turned away you could’ve swore Kiara opened her mouth to reply, but one warning head shake from JJ and her lips were sealing themselves shut. You were about to open the passenger door when JJ’s hand gripped your upper arm, the blonde staring out in front of him with a stoic yet pointed look on his face.
“Can you let go of me-”
“Does that look voluntary?” He asked, tone deep. You followed his unwavering gaze to find a blonde woman and the man who opened the door leading Pope further into the yard behind the gate. Pope was looking back pitifully at the three of you as the man pushed him forward and the woman, a cane by her side and a limp in her walk, led them both further into the greenery.
“Not at all.” You practically whispered back, attempting to take a step forward when JJ tightened his grip.
“Hold on, hold on.” You turned to him an impatient and questioning look on your face, throwing a hand out as a way to ask ‘what?’. “They’re goin’ around the back alley.” He said hurriedly, rounding the driver’s side of the truck as you hopped in the passenger side, Kie piling in beside you. “We’ll meet ‘em on the other side.”
JJ started the car, driving it slowly in order to draw too much suspicion — with the Limbreys or surrounding neighbors. You could almost hear all three of your hearts beating in panicked unison with every turn made. You didn’t know what these people wanted with Pope, but if they didn’t drop this whole super secret act, they wouldn’t be getting anything.
Driving and driving, and still no Pope. JJ eyes were focused ahead as you and Kiara looked to the sides of the road for any sign of him. “Where did they go?” Kie asked, peering out of the window. She sounded sad. The trio of you continued driving around, Pope nowhere in sight. You were starting to get worried, extremely worried.
If the Limbreys were like the Camerons of Charleston, there was no telling what they could be doing with your friend right now.
“Okay, stop the car.” You said, putting your hands on the dashboard.
“What?” JJ asked, although he slowed the vehicle down, bringing it to a stop on the side of the road. You reached over key and threw the passenger door open before climbing over the girl. “Where the hell are you going-”
“Ouch, that’s my- Ow!” Kie shouted.
You threw yourself out of the vehicle before standing up and dusting yourself off, looking side to side before deciding to go back in the direction the alley was in. Even if you didn’t see Pope, there was a way in and there was no way in hell you weren’t taking it.
You set off quickly in the direction of the alley, Kiara and JJ calling out for you before two pairs of footsteps were trailing behind you. You passed a few people on the sidewalk, unintentionally shoulder-checking them in your haste.
“Watch it!”
“Hey! Rude…”
Reaching the alley, you made a sharp turn into the greenery. You could hear grunts and groans that stopped you in your tracks — you were no stranger to the sounds of violence. Your power walk turned into a sprint, pushing leaves and branches out of your path before reaching Pope, who was beating on the creep who opened the door.
He had him pinned down to the concrete, both of them reaching for what seemed to be a taser. Your eyes fleeted between the two brawling guys and the weapon before you decided to kick the object behind you in the direction of Kiara and JJ.
Pope delivered one last blow to the man’s face before getting up. “C’mon.” You demanded, being the first to run away, back in the direction of the truck. The four of you took the short way — hopping over a cement wall that guarded a small portion of the yard.
The car was a few feet away since you ditched the scenic route, the four of you wasting no time in jumping in. JJ in the driver’s seat with the three of you piled in as well.
��Who the hell were those people?” Kiara panicked, out of breath as she slammed the passenger door shut.
“I don’t know but they’re crazy as shit!” Pope’s voice cracked as he settled into the vehicle. “We need to get out of here now.” He warned, wide eyes drifting in JJ’s direction as the blonde started the engine and hit the gas almost all in one motion as the vehicle leaped forward, sending you all down the road.
Near moments after JJ had hit the gas, leaving a smoke trail in his wake, you looked behind you to see a car speeding behind you, the fishbowl windows allowing you to see the driver clearly. “Creepy guy recovers fast.” You panted, looking back ahead of you and prompting JJ to peek in the rearview mirror, pressing the gas a little harder.
“Here we go now!”
Heyward’s truck was going faster than you ever deemed possible, flying down the road. “Hey, JJ, slow down. This is a one-way.” Pope warned, the truck never slowing down. JJ was too focused to hear much of anything, you were gripping the seat for dear life. “This is a one-way!” Pope got louder as JJ started to reach a busier part of the town. A car suddenly appeared in front of you, the headlights blinding.
“Car, JJ! There’s a car!” You warned, grabbing a hold of the steering wheel yourself and making a right turn before the truck could collide with the SUV. Rounding the corner, you almost collided with two pedestrians — the two heads of blonde and light-brown hair looking eerily familiar for the slightest of moments.
“Jesus, look out!” Pope and Kiara said in unison as JJ took back control of the wheel and avoided hitting the two people.
“Get out of the road!” JJ shouted as he redirected the car on the street.
“Those were pedestrians!” Kiara reprimanded, gripping the passenger door for stability.
“That was evasive driving technique right there, y’all!” JJ patted himself on the back as you turned to look out of the rear window to see the man still hot on your trail.
“You sure about that ‘cause he’s still following us.” You warned, looking at the blonde for the briefest of moments.
“Hang on, I’ll lose him.” JJ assured you all, making a sharp turn that sent the three of you crashing into each other. Just as he turned into an empty alley, a pop sound following a hiss of air and smoke came from the truck. “I thought you said he fixed carburetor!”
“He did!” Pope said as the car came to a stop of its own.
“No, Pope, he clearly did not!” JJ retorted as he opened the door, Kie doing the same on the passenger side. The four of you got out of the truck, fanning the air and coughing.
“Number one rule, never trust mechanics.” JJ spoke mainly to himself as you all grabbed whatever you brought along with you out of the trunk of the car just as the car following you pulled in the alley as well. “Shit. Go, go, go!”
The four of you booked, the smoke hopefully giving you a bit of time as you ran through the alley. You and Kiara looked behind you as you ran, seeing the man get out of his own car and tuck something into his jacket.
“He has a gun.” You muttered, looking back ahead as you ran. “He has a fucking gun!”
Pope and JJ glanced behind themselves, past you and Kie to see the man not far behind. The squad of you picked up the pace, making the first turn available but you swore you heard someone calling your names.
The man was picking up the pace as well, getting closer to you all. “We might have to split up!” JJ suggested from the forefront of the group.
“Are you crazy?” You shouted, being right behind the blonde. “No way!” You continued, almost tripping over an unleveled section of the concrete. JJ, not paying attention, ran into a mailman, sending the packages in his hand flying into the air.
“Sorry ‘bout that!” He apologized over his shoulder. JJ led you all into another alley, this one much narrower causing you all to run in a line. The guy was falling behind, which was a plus.
Coming out of the alley, you all came face to face with a couple on a bike almost getting run over by them. But after taking a longer look at the two people who almost pummeled you all with their bike, your heart dropped farther down in your body than it ever has.
Every single one of your five senses seemed to cease to exist in this moment. You couldn’t hear anything, white noise filling your ears as your vision blurred on the edges, only allowing you to see what you could only logically explain as two ghosts standing in front of you — a very much alive John B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron standing in front of you, covering in mud and dirt and who knows what else.
Whatever breath you had been holding in your lungs released itself, the release of air allowing your senses to return, almost like coming up out of the water.
All of your expressions were somewhere in between a blank stare and a smile. You wanted to reach a hand out to see if they were real.
“...Get in. Get in! Get in!” John B broke the silence. His voice hadn’t changed. It was exactly like you remembered. The four of you did as he said, still partially in shock, piling into the bike. You, Kiara, and Sarah crowded into the cab of the pedicab as JJ and Pope pushed it from the back as John B pedaled as hard as he could.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of his back as he pedaled, unless of course it was to direct the same blank stare in Sarah’s direction. The Limbrey guy plus two other men were chasing the group of you now, JJ and Pope hopping onto the sides after it gained enough speed to ride smoothly with the six of you on it.
The entire ride to the boat, your friends were whooping and cheering. And on the inside you couldn’t be happier or more relieved at how well the universe seemed to work in your favor but for some reason, your body wasn’t so eager to show it on the outside.
For a whole month, you’d grieved someone who wasn’t dead.
Once you reached one of Ward’s boats the Sarah knew the location of — My Druthers Too, you all wasted no time jumping into it, sailing in the direction of The Outer Banks. Back home.
next chapter>
feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.
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Idk if you still do those nsfw requests... but if you do, can I request Nr 39 and either Din? Because I feel like din would be so taken aback by everything, as he just seems like a virgin at heart (sorry not sorry🥲)
Hi baby!! Don't you know sub/virgin Din is my specialty? 😏 I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy!!
Pairing: Innocent!Din Djarin x GN!reader
Warnings: premature ejaculation, grinding, innocence kink, embarrassment, stuff I'm probably forgetting
Word count: 927
Cramped
*****
“Din, I really don’t think there’s enough room in that thing for all three of us,” you admit.
“No, look,” he walks over to the small ship and points at the bubble on top. It appears to be a repurposed droid pit. “Grogu will sit up here.”
You bite your tongue and nod, not wanting to let him down but knowing you need to explain that it’s just not going to happen. The N1 is a big downgrade from the Crest, but you can’t blame him for trying to make it work.
“That’s really smart, but look at the cockpit.”
You watch as his helm turns to the small, single seater cockpit.
“What do you mean?”
You resist the urge to just stare at him. What does he mean ‘what do you mean’?
“Din, do you really want to travel for days at a time cramped in that thing with me? I’d practically have to be in your lap.” You ignore the way your cheeks heat as a crude image pops into your head. You’ve been painfully aware of Din’s innocence for as long as you’ve been flying with him, but this is next-level. Does he really not get why this may be a problem?
“It’ll be fine,” he says. “We can stop more often if we need to.”
You sigh at him, about to bring up the fact that you’ll be wasting a ton of fuel if you stop every day you’re traveling.
“Here, I’ll show you.”
“Din, I–”
“Just try it, please?”
He’s already lifting the seal and getting in, settling himself in the pilot’s chair. He shifts his hips and spreads his thighs as he gets comfortable and makes room for you. It makes your mouth go dry. He’s a few years older than you, but absolutely fucking clueless.
He says your name when you don’t move from the spot you’re standing in. “C’mon,” he motions his hand for you to come take a seat. You chew on your lip for a second but decide to indulge him. You’ll just have to be careful.
You grab his hand and let him help hoist you up, bringing you to stand between his legs and then lower down. You make sure to shift down a bit so that your ass is on the edge of the seat instead of against his crotch. Of course, though, Din’s hands come to your hips to drag you toward him, getting the two of you flush to each other.
You can feel heat in the tips of your ears now as you’re pulled over him slightly. You know he’s just trying to make sure you’re comfortable, but his efforts have the opposite effect when you can feel his soft cock pressing against you. Your body stiffens and you bite your lip, sending a prayer up the maker that it stays that way.
The bulge is fucking impressive, you’re not going to lie. You’ve caught glances of it before—intentional or not—but this is insane.
You try to subtly move yourself off of him the tiniest bit, more to relieve the pressure to his appendage than anything else. He lets you do so, but not much with his hands still on your hips with nowhere else to go. Then he moves them to your thighs, one resting on each. Okay, maybe they did have somewhere else to go.
Another image shoves it’s way into your head, this one of his hands further between your legs, no barrier between the two of you as he uses one of them to—
You shake yourself out of it, squirming as you silently scold yourself.
“See? It’s fi—”
He chokes on his words as your ass brushes against him, the brief friction something he’s not used to.
“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize frantically, trying to get up off of him so you don’t make him uncomfortable. You can already feel him stiffening. He moans softly and his hips shift a little as well, causing even more rubbing on parts that do not need to be rubbing. His hands tense on your thighs, holding you to him so you can’t move. You yelp, unsure of how to get out of this predicament without stirring him further.
“What the fuck? Do that again. I liked it.”
Your jaw drops.
“W-what?”
“Do that again. What was that?”
“I–”
He bucks his hips again, stimulating his now fully hardened cock.
“Mph, that.”
“I-Din, I don’t think you unders–”
But he does it again, and you can feel arousal stirring within you despite yourself. He ruts up, a moan crackling through his modulator. His hands grasp harshly as he starts to grind against you.
“D-Din–”
Suddenly, he groans behind you, his body tensing and trembling as your face floods with embarrassment. You can feel his cock twitching and pulsing, a wet spot forming in his flight suit. It goes on for longer than you’ve ever seen before. You throb with want between your legs as you listen to him come down from his orgasm.
The two of you sit in silence, Din panting slightly as you try to process what just happened.
“Cyar’ika?”
You swallow. “Yes, Din?”
“W-what was that?”
“You just came,” you explain, trying to keep your hoarse voice loud enough for him to hear.
“Oh,” he says, though you can tell he has no idea what the fuck you just said.
“Can I do it again?”
You let out a shaky breath and turn your head slightly his way, knowing you’re not getting out of this explanation.
*****
Here’s the link to the prompt list if anyone else would like to request 🫶
#pedro pascal#fan fiction#ao3#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedro pascal characters#gender neutral reader#the mandalorian x gn!reader#gn!reader#din djarin x gn!reader#din djarin smut#requested fic#fic request
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cherries
cw: ts is just… hmmmmmskkansnakabsolapan. thank you for coming to my ted talk. praise, soft dom, light impact play, overstimulation, lmk if i missed anything.
sn: this is in first person and it’s so vague it could literally be anybody but in my heart and soul it’s nanami… or gojo… or yuta… (reblogs are appreciated lovelys 💕)
s: where you’ve never had the pleasure of being taken there, and nanami is nothing but chivalrous. wc: 1.5k
nsfw, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
“i don’t want you to focus on looking,” he whispers in my ear. my heart is thumping in my ears, so hot that his warm breath felt cool against them. “i need you to focus on feeling.” i exhale shakily and i feel; i feel the pads of his fingers dancing up and down my waist and stomach, the way they pinch ever so softly at my thighs, how gentle he handles me as if though i was the thinnest sheet of glass. i feel the way his stubble pricks at the soft flesh between my breasts, his open mouthed kisses leaving saliva behind to cool; like a reminder that he was there. i felt the way he brought me closer into his lap, i felt the aching need to bring myself closer to him.
i reach my arms back and do the opposite, placing them on his knees and allowing him more access to touch. my breathing is labored in anticipation of his next move. his fingers are playing with the band of elastic at my hips and i can’t help but to roll them forward into his touch.
“please.” i don’t even know what i’m asking for, but i’m willing to take anything he’d give me. the way he strings the tension between our bodies with his fingers, touching, grazing, groping, pulling. all the while i couldn’t breath. he tugs the fabric covering my pussy to the side, i could feel the heat exuding from my core onto his torso. “you see what happens when you let yourself feel?” he asks me quietly, running a single digit between my folds. i shudder at the sounds his fingers make, pulling my thighs apart and letting my head fall back.
his gentle touch never falters as he presses against my clit, i could just imagine the bastard’s face when i whine against the slow torturous circles he rubbed onto the bud. my chest is getting hot, i feel the sweat building up on my forehead but he remains composed. his arm wraps around my waist pulling me up to his chest as he begins to speed his fingers up.
it’s suddenly bright, and im staring into pools of desperation, i’m staring into a man’s eyes that screamt for nothing more than me relinquishing myself to him. but i wasn’t there yet, and he knew. “keep your eyes closed baby,” he mutters, and i do. “don’t worry about me, i’ll let you know when to look.” he instructs.
he doesn’t change his pace, instead just adding on to it. his teeth nip at my neck, biting and licking it after as if he was apologizing. my skin feels raw as he presses down with more pressure, i hum as his free hand cups my breast. he rolls my pert nipple between his middle and pointer fingers, even pinching and pulling them to his mouth for a quick swirl of his tongue.
my core was tightening, my thighs began to tense. i couldn’t believe it, i was almost there. the excitement that loomed my mind almost felt like doubt, was he really about to make me cum with just his fingers? i gasp for air as his fingers speed up against my clit, he’s reaching for my neck and placing soft kisses on my lips, “let it out baby, i got you. breath.”
i’m trying to regulate my breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth. i’m trying to let it out, can’t he see? it’s not like i don’t want to cum, i do it by myself no problem. but this time it’s him, he’s drawing shapes and patterns on my clit, probably a ritual for all i know.
“look at me.” he urges me gently, “relax. you’re right there baby.” i steady myself on his shoulders, grinding up against his fingers until i feel a sharp slap on my thigh. “let me worry about that, you can use me to cum another time.” i choke at his words, furrowing my brows as i relax my thighs against his.
“i’m so close,” i whisper, my hips twitching. “who’s stopping you?” he whispers back, catching my eyes with his. “come for me.”
all i could see was his face smiling lazily, all i could hear was ringing and his compliments;
“look at you.”
“you listen so good.”
“so pretty baby, keep going.”
the sounds that crawled from my throat were feral. i came, i came so hard i forgot to breath. i came so hard i thanked him endlessly, i came so hard i nearly cried. but he didn’t stop, not when my thighs shook against his arms keeping me spread open, not when my hips bucked wildly. instead he stopped only to line himself up with my entrance and impale me on his cock.
for the first time that night he moaned so low i felt it in my own gut. my pussy pulsed around him, still clenching from the orgasm he seemed intent on not letting die down. “c’mon, give me more. now’s the time to use me baby.” he grunts, his massive hands grasping my ass in such contrast to his gentle demeanor earlier. his hands pulled me up and down on his cock and my nails are making crescent moons in his shoulders as i try to keep up.
“ah- fuck, oh my god!” i squeal. i grind against his pelvis, taking his words at face value, rubbing my swollen clit against him with each drag of my hips. i didn’t even register my second orgasm until i was sat entirely on his dick, my arms wrapped around his neck in an embrace so tight you would’ve thought i was drowning and he was a life raft.
“yes, yes, yes! come on this dick. you just need me to open the flood gates, huh?” his words were soothing and comforting but his actions were far from it. he hooked his arms under my legs and flips us over, the little air my lungs being knocked out by the new position. he drilled into me and the cries that poured from my mouth were almost embarrassing. who am i kidding? they are. not that either of us care.
his cock bullied my pussy, knocking into every wall, throwing away any of the dignity i could’ve had after this. he rests his forehead on mine, his eyes glued to mine as he spoke. “none of them could make you come ‘cause they’re not me.” my gut twists at his words. “but i can. and i’m going to make you come so hard around me that you’ll be addicted to me. you’ll keep crawling back to me. even your toys won’t make you scream like i will.”
that twist in my gut isn’t gone, and it’s getting stronger. “i-.”
“shut up. don’t talk. don’t do anything but come.” i whimper as he pulls back upright, pushing my knees against my chest and drawing his cock out to the tip before rushing right right back in. “i mean look at us baby, look at how you suck me in. god,” he snarls. “i’ve never seen anything more beautiful.” he sounds delirious, he looks delicious, and god does he feel even better.
the sweat shining from his broad chest, dripping down the washboard of his abdomen, i wanted to lick it all up and kiss all over him. i’d practically lost my mind, scratching and clawing at the sheets underneath me. i’ve never felt like this, not until him. he snakes his hand down to my folds, pressing up against my bud and that twist in my gut started to unravel.
my eyes widen as i scramble to watch what he’s watching, wanting to picture this moment and remember the feeling. “again baby? you gonna come again?” his voice is strained, and i nod fervently. “say my name when you come.” he demands.
i struggle to keep his eye contact as the waves of pleasure wash over me, his name coming out in broken sobs as my orgasm wrecks through my body.
“kento!”
he grunts and slumps forward, his thrusts slow and ragged. did he cum? i can’t think clearly. i’m seeing stars and i think i’ve gone deaf. that or the silence itself was deafening. i just let my best friend fuck me into oblivion.
“you good?” his voice bleeds into my focus. i blink slowly, trying to find the words, but only whining when i feel him pull out. he chuckles as he hovers over me, pinching the latex around the tip of his dick, pulling and knotting it. he tosses it to the wastebasket next to the bed and lays himself down next to me.
“you’re speechless.” he mumbles, his fingers running innocently down my stomach. there’s something else he says, but i don’t catch it. i wanted to ask him what he meant, making me addicted. but my eyes are heavy and i don’t have the slightest of energy to move.
“thank you.” i mumble.
part two! where’s the rest of your work?
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Stay With You
Pairings: Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge
Word Count: 1652
Warnings: double penetration, hand job, cream pies
BBJ Masterlist
“Y’all when I said let's go camping, I was thinking something along the lines of smores, maybe even a cute lil bonfire,” I ranted. “But to be out here in natures ass crack, the possible meal of a grizzly bear is where I draw the line.
“Y/N, we’re in a makeshift tent in the backyard, I doubt a grizzly is making it this far into the city,” Aldis sighed.
“And if he does, we’ll hear him,” Trevante added.
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
“This is practice Y/N, you stay complaining like this on the real campsite and a grizzly will be the least of your worries.”
“Aldi, is that a threat?” I gasped.
“No, it’s a warning, so take heed.”
“Ohhh Aldiii, you giving out warnings now?” Trevante mocked.
Deadpanning Tre, I look over to Aldis to assess what the problem really is.
“Aldi, you know I don’t do the whole nature thing, but I’m legitimately trying FOR YOU."
“You ain’t gotta try if all you gone do is keep complaining,” he protested.
“I AM -“
“Hey hey hey y’all enough,” Tre interrupted. “Let's put a pin in it before one of us says something we can’t take back.
Always the peacemaker that one. Trevante is quite literally the definition of lover not a fighter, whereas Aldis on the other hand is my little hot head. We tend to clash from time to time, but we’re learning which buttons not to push.
He’s been begging us to go camping for a minute now and I finally gave in last weekend, opting to do this only if I could work my way up there. Tre is no more keen to do it than I am, but pushed those feelings to the side for all the times Aldis has been so willing to try something for us. I guess it didn’t help that I’ve been bitching since we crawled inside here.
Sighing, I apologized for my earlier whining and creeped over to his side of the tent to seal it with a kiss. He accepts it with a grumble, but the scowl on his face tells a different story.
“Baby, I am so sorry for not coming in here with an open mind and if you let me, I’ll have us all making noises a grizzly wouldn’t dare interrupt.”
I get a small smile in return, but it’s not the heart melting one I’m used to seeing.
“Please, forgive me and come morning I’ll fix your favorite breakfast.”
“There are no stoves in the woods,” Tre reminded.
“Right, well I’ll do whatever it takes to survive in nature,” I promised. “No soap, no toothpaste, just a knife and my killer instincts.”
A chorus of woahs follows from both men, Aldis urging me to relax, emphasizing the idea that living in nature surrenders the use of modern technology not hygiene.
“Yeah well I’ll stay clean ONLY if you forgive me,” I bargained.
Chuckling, he leans in and pecks me on the lips, formally forgiving my prior tantrum.
“Moving forward, I don’t wanna hear no lip and you’ll do exactly as I say,” he demanded.
Wrapping my arms around his neck I lean in for another kiss, mumbling a yes sir. Deepening it, I feel Tre’s palm run across my ass, caressing its curves in the softest way.
Aldis’ arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in closer as his lips run over mine, trailing down to my chin, my neck, and stopping just shy of my breast.
“Now, tell me more about those non interrupting grizzly noises,” he says through light pecks.
Shuffling off the floor Tre gets behind me, locking me in between them, sprinkling his fair share of kisses along my back in agreement with Aldis.
Turning so that my body faces forward, I rest my arms on the shoulder of each man; leaning firstly into Tre and then into Aldi to swap a little bit of spit.
“Well, for starters we’d need less clothes.“
“Like this shirt for instance,” Tre proposed as he tugged it off me.
“And these pants,” Aldis added, unbuckling them. “They don’t really serve much purpose do they?”
Shaking my head no, I help them shed the rest of the clothes by ridding myself of the remaining undergarments. Now in my birthday suit, I watch as each man's clothing finds itself in a pile next to mine.
Tongue slipping between teeth and over my lips, I can’t help the jolt of excitement that washes over me as I ready myself for both my men. Leaning over to Tre, I sink my teeth into his skin as I suck on his sweet spot, no doubt leaving a hickey - eager to mark him in the sexiest way.
He breathes out soft, shy pants and I reach down to grab his semi hard dick as I stroke it back and forth. Dribbles of precum ooze from the tip and I drag my thumb forward to smear it against his length, allowing me to jerk him off a little more smoothly.
Tilting over to my left, I lean into Aldis and dip my head into the firm arch of his shoulder blade, peppering his jaw in open mouth kisses; spots of saliva left behind after each one.
He then grabs my left breast, his mouth swirling around the hardened nipple as my head tips back at the delicious sensation, quiet mewling tumbling past my lips. Tre follows suit with my other breast, tweaking and kneading before taking the nipple into his warm mouth.
Hand gliding down Aldis’ lap, I stop at his girthy member, tracing over each thick vein while I softly run my hand over his nuts. Bringing my hand to my face, I spit in the palm and return it back to his length, this time stroking him with ease.
Breathy moans follow, but it comes out muffled around my nipple and I take this chance to speed up in pace on both men, hoping to see their creamy finish.
“Tell me how good this feels,” I whimpered. “Matter of fact, cum for me so I know it’s real.”
Heated lips run along my skin, tongues leaving wet trails in their paths while hands get entangled with limbs and moans get engulfed into the noiseless night. My body feels hot with desire, eyelids fluttering closed, and mouth ajar, I couldn’t tell who was doing what but my movements never ceased; eager to bring my men over the edge.
Their heavy breathing becomes more erratic, my cooing and encouragement having them spill onto me as my hands come to a slow stop and I lick each fist clean.
Grabbing the back of my neck, Aldis pulls me in for a kiss, thumbs spreading my lips open to taste himself. Pulling away, I turn over to Tre and dive in for another round of tongue twisting, saliva trailing down our chins as we pull apart.
“On all fours Y/N, you know wassup,” Aldi directed.
“Yes sirrrr, Tre you on the bottom baby?”
“I’m wherever you want me,” he winked.
Lying down on his back, he helps position me on top of him, dick in hand as he watches me slowly slide down his length. A heavy gasp leaves us both at the heated feeling of being connected. After we adjust, he gives me a lazy smile, mouthing a quick I love you to which I eagerly return it.
“Ready for me angel?”
“Go for it Aldi.”
“I’ll be your genie, Y/N, every fucking day if you let me,” he confides, smearing his cum between my ass.
“Your every wish would be my command,” he continued, entering first with his finger.
“You’re my beacon of light honey,” he insisted, adding in another digit. “In an otherwise bleak and cruel world.”
“You both reassure me that all is not lost,” he chanted, driving his fingers into me, the pace deliciously unwavering.
“Y’all have given me the joy to call you guys family,” he admitted, removing his fingers entirely.
“But this ass? Oh this ass Y/N is what I can call home,” Aldis ended as he thrusted to the hilt.
No matter how many times he’s entered my backdoor, I can never get used to his sheer size. He always knocks the wind out of me and I find myself planted face first into Tre’s chest, his hands cradling my jaws as I seep back into reality. Sweet nothings are whispered into my ear but it’s the driving force of their dicks that fully reels me into the present.
“There she is,” Tre snickered. “I got you baby girl, don’t you worry.”
I barely recognize the sounds coming from me, my words now indecipherable, cockdrunk and drooling as they tear me apart. Aldis wraps his hand around my throat, drawing me in to plaster my lips with sloppy kisses while Tre takes a hold of my waist to drive his dick further into me, my pussy stretched around his dick as his tongue explores the shape of my neck.
My fingers are embedded into skin, whose I don’t know, but the crescent shaped marks will reveal it sooner or later. Tongue sliding against Aldis’ while Tre’s fingers dance every which way across my waist and thighs, I can’t help the howl that escapes me; grizzly bear be damned, my body feels worked over past its limits.
The peak that I hit seems never ending, my soul paralyzed and heartbeat accelerating, while everything around me ceases to exist. I come down just in time enough to feel them splatter my walls simultaneously which elicits a minigasm of my own.
Loud, labored panting is all that I hear. Rough, calloused hands is all that I feel. Navy blue sky littered with twinkling stars is the view that meets me and I must admit that camping isn’t so bad after all.
#Emmy Writes#Emmy Tries#My Drabbles#Black Boy Joy#Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader#Trevante Rhodes x Black!Fem!Reader#Trevante Rhodes#Aldis Hodge x Black Reader#Aldis Hodge x Black!Fem!Reader#Aldis Hodge#Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge#Trevante Rhodes x Black!Fem!Reader x Aldis Hodge#Black Reader#Black!Fem!Reader#3 some tings#why am I like this lmfao
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Andor and Rogue One: Sacrificing love and sacrificing for love
I often contemplate Luthen’s monologue from Andor episode 10: the full meanings and implications of what he has sacrificed. The clues to what his backstory might be and how his future might unfold. Perhaps the most intriguing item on his list of what he has given up is ‘love’. The difficulty of analysing this one is that the word has so many different meanings, and once again I’m rueful that in English we didn’t keep the Ancient Greek tradition of having different words for the many different types of love that we can experience. There are separate words for romantic/sexual love, the love between parents and children, between siblings and between good friends. There’s love in the sense of a strong liking (as in “I love chocolate”) and the love that develops over time in a relationship that needs a lot of work (as in an arranged marriage).
Luthen might mean one or all of these, but he might well also mean a very specific type of love: the one often called ‘universal and unconditional love’. The Greek word is Agape, (pronounced Ah-ga-pay). It’s the selfless love felt for humanity as a whole, and is that behind the willingness to do anything for someone without expecting something in return. It’s the biggest question Luthen will have to face. Is he ready and willing to die for the cause - and if so, will this kind of love be the motive? The problem is that in doing what he feels he needs to do for the greater good he thinks he is ‘damned’ as his actions are anything but loving, at least on the surface. He threatens babies, sacrifices innocents and plans to kill a man at his mother’s funeral. Perhaps he is a long way from ‘agape’.
Cassian is a little easier to track as we have at least the start and end of his story - Season 2 will fill in the remaining gap. The excellent Rogue One novelisation makes explicit that within the film Cassian has an epiphany and it’s made really clear in the extract below, which is from just after where he and the others volunteer to go with Jyn to Scarif (knowing full well the huge personal risk involved).
The novel earlier emphasised the ‘need’ in Jyn’s eyes, which is ultimately linked to her love (denied at first) for her father and her faith in his message about the Death Star. Cassian couldn’t go ahead with killing Galen and it’s interesting that here he now shares that ‘need’ to act: ‘He tried to imagine executing another coldly elegant mission for Draven and finding nourishment in the stale, momentary thrills of danger and triumph… He couldn’t survive that way anymore. …Jyn was changing. And through her, he would do what was required of him. They all would”. Interesting choice of words: ‘Coldly’.. ‘stale’. This will be the Cassian of the end of Andor season 2… Needing to find his fire again. It’s no doubt why we will want to watch the film again immediately afterwards, as Diego Luna has been urging us to do. I think we’ll need the ‘redemption’ part of the story.
With apologies to some of my Cassian x Jyn loving friends ;), this for me is the main canon ‘love story’ in Rogue One. Putting faith in Jyn’s own faith in her father’s message is for Cassian a kind of re-dedication to the cause - a renewal, perhaps, of something like the ‘vow’ that Luthen speaks of. But the motive this time seems to be something positive. In his monologue Cassian speaks of all the awful things he’s done on behalf of the Rebellion. Walking away now, as the Alliance wants to do, would be unthinkable. Making the ultimate sacrifice eventually becomes the only ‘choice’ left but I think it’s so important that Cassian makes it with a clear head and for the right reasons. It’s why I think that any heavy personal losses that Cassian might experience in S2 won’t come in the final arc, which takes place in the days just before the film - I don’t think Tony Gilroy would want us to think that Cassian is acting from any sense of ‘Oh well, my life is so shitty I might as well do this as I haven’t anything else to live for!’ That wouldn’t even be a sacrifice, which means giving up something you value. Instead, Gilroy explicitly says of Cassian that he is “someone who will consciously, open-heartedly sacrifice himself for the greater good”. In other words, he has a clear mind and is doing this for the ‘right’ reason. And the reason is love, I think - and in the ‘agape’ sense. In other words it’s not for love of Jyn or even love of himself (although I think he is genuinely and justly respectful and proud of himself when he dies) but for love of all those theoretical billions of strangers who might possibly be saved because of their sending the Death Star plans.
Cassian, Jyn and the rest of the Rogue One team make the final sacrifice for love. Unconditional love of strangers. The most selfless act of all. It makes me cry every time I rewatch, but the beach scene is a perfect visual representation. Cassian and Jyn are united in a platonic hug, comforting and literally supporting each other. No doubt thinking about all the loves and losses they have experienced in their mirror-imaged traumatic lives, war-torn from such an early age. They don’t want to die but are accepting of their approaching doom and the knowledge that in doing this they have helped each other to rediscover purpose and hope. They have “tried” as Nemik would put it. And finally, being swallowed up in bright transcendental light - recalling the sunrise Luthen knew he’d ‘never see’. Imagery of death but also of hope for ‘someone else’s future’, their sacrifice being the most selfless love of all.
So you can absolutely see the ending of Rogue One and the ending of Cassian’s story as hopeful, transcendental and inspirational as in that sense he is indeed ‘messianic’ as Tony Gilroy has described him. Not because he is a religious chosen one or a mystical figure - he’s an ordinary average man, who started out as a ‘loser.. .a nobody…’ who has done something extraordinary, for love. It’s a fully secular spiritual journey but no less powerful for that. His bible, as it were, has been Nemik’s manifesto.
As for Luthen himself… his fate is unclear. I’m not sure what might be coming for him, but I hope it does the character justice. Perhaps he will get some kind of glimpse of sunrise or perhaps his ending will - in contrast to Cassian’s - be in a totally sunless space.
“Tell him he knows everything he needs to know and feels everything he needs to feel, and when the day comes and those two pull together he will be an unstoppable force for good.”
#Andor#rogue one#analysis#cassian andor#luthen rael#jyn erso#tony gilroy#alexander freed#star wars andor#sacrifice#messianic#redemption arc#rogue one a star wars story
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i'm sure alot of you are well aware about the current situation circulating @/selenascorner.
the very first time i ever spoke to her, selena texted me first on may 10th of this year, sending me the 'blackgirls4chris' picture. she said she loved my page and at the time she saw my post about hateful and racist anons in my friend's inbox. i guess she was trying to cheer me up? i have no idea.
two days later she texted me again checking in on me, which i definitely appreciated and found really sweet of her. we had a conversation about an irl girl she was having problems with, and i was comforting her about it and giving her advice on it. i just wished i could've found out sooner what kind of person she was before i gave my time and energy to someone like her.
on may 16th she texted me first again, asking me how i was and i asked her how she was - she told me she had relapsed again. it was due to another mutual of mine, but i will respect her and not mention who she is due to the fact that her name is currently being dragged thru the mud and she in fact does not deserve this the way selena made me believe. she told me this mutual friend 'traumatized' her because of the decision she chose to no longer talk to selena. my mutual friend made it clear ( from the message selena sent me from their dms ) that she was not intentionally trying to hurt her. selena has triggered my mutual friend because of the things she told her, and my mutual friend said she needed space to protect herself, and rightfully so.
and that's where i come in with my story and experience.
i gave selena my instagram to text me more because i genuinely wanted to be there for her. i should've listened to my friends, because they tell me sometimes i put myself in a bad situation due to me wanting to be there for EVERYONE.
every other day i texted her, she was always telling me how she had attempted, as well as self harm. as someone who used to self harm myself, this was so triggering to me especially with the things i have going on in my own life. but because i know what it's like to have done these things before, i have constantly tried to help her and be by her side no matter what. alot of the time, she made it seem like she couldn't get help no matter how many times i urged her to try. every attempt always ended in a text with her saying no or just completely saying she couldn't get help and nothing would help her. there are so many options to get help for self harm and suicide, and i will provide links at the end of this for any of you out there who have struggled with these same things.
as time went on, i began to feel emotionally drained and helpless about selena. i wasn't sure what to do to help her anymore, yet i still tried my best because i didn't want her to feel like she was alone. but a person can only take in so much shit before they eventually began to break down.
selena had become toxic towards me, and even whilst seeing that i told myself she still deserved a good friend and she just needed reassurance someone would be there for her. about two and a half weeks ago i told all of my friends due to my circumstances of my own situation, i would be inactive on instagram and tumblr because i needed to take time for myself. one day i was able to get back to people and text them. when i texted selena, i apologized for not being as active. she called me selfish, said i only cared about myself and never bothered to try and help her when she needed me.
after everything she had told me and all i tried to do to help her, she called me selfish because i didn't text her back. she has a victim complex as well as toxicity. i felt trapped being her friend at this point, because any thing i said i needed to be careful so it didn't set her off. i should've to my friends after getting their advice on this because she was clearly taking a toll on my mental health. she's scared me multiple times when she told me she had attempted.
i repeatedly told selena that i loved and cared about her so much, yet to no avail. she asked me about a few of my friends one day, asking if they were safe people to talk to. not thinking anything of it, i told her they were because they are. they ended up telling me she had texted each of them, beginning to trauma dump on them as well. i found it mighty fucking fishy that the things she would tell my friends did not always add up to what she talked to me about.
one of my best friends friend in particular experienced this trauma dumping, triggering experience with selena.
my best friend texted me and told me selena had texted her, asking if she could tell her some things. boom, she dumps all these things on her - now i know my best friend, and i know she's not gonna beat around the fucking bush about things and she'll tell you exactly how she feels. my best friend gave selena the best advice she could, telling her that she should seek some type of help. selena responds to her coldy, telling her there was no way she could get help. and rightfully so, my best friend blocked selena. my best friend made it clear to selena that she already had enough negativity in her life and if selena wasn't going to take her advice for trying to help her, she could no longer talk to her anymore.
selena then texts me and tells me how my 'best friend' traumatized her from the way she handled things. i will admit truthfully, i felt bad and i told selena i was so sorry for what happened and that my best friend blocking her wasn't the best way to handle things. but in all honesty? i said that to selena because i didn't want her thinking i was 'choosing sides' because then i felt she'd get mad at me. and i didn't want her to get mad at me. i was so afraid that selena might go off to other people and tell her i acted like my mutual friend i mentioned earlier.
and now after everything that's happened, my best friend was right for blocking her and protecting her peace, as well as my mutual friend no longer wanting to communicate with her. selena proceeded to be angry with me when i told her i understood my best friend's side, because there's always two sides to a story - she made me out to be a bad friend for defending my best friend, going as far as to tell other people about the situation. selena made me feel like i had to either choose her or my best friend, and that's when i decided i was done.
i was tired of the constant guilt she was giving me, making me feel like i was a bad person for how i felt and my decisions. she said i chose my best friend over her, hurting her and saying how she trusted me and how she never judged her. NOT FUCKING ONCE did i ever judge selena for anything she's been through or what she's told me.
i ultimately decided i couldn't keep this toxicity in my life, because she was draining me and all my friends could clearly see she was taking a toll on me. so i decided to tell selena it was not a good idea to be her friend anymore. i told her i still cared about her alot and would love her always, but i couldn't handle it anymore. i made it known that multiple times i wanted to tell her how triggering she could be and how much she's affected me. selena then proceeds to apologize for everything, say she didn't want to lose me as a friend and everything - and me being me, i ended up feeling terrible because i didn't want her to feel alone. but she needed to realize how she made me feel and how toxic our friendship had become.
she sent me one final text, once again making everything about her. she told me the first 'red flag' from me was how i chose my best friend's side over hers even though i made it clear i wasn't 'taking sides'. i left her on read after her final goodbye and her wishing me the best in the future. i felt a huge weight off my shoulders because i had finally rid myself of the clear toxicity i was enduring being friends with her.
now i find out that selena's been dragging my fucking name through the mud, calling me a bad person and making me out to be so terrible to other people. even after everything i had gone through for her, all the times i tried to be there for her, this is what i get for being a fucking people pleaser, wanting to help anybody and everybody.
i don't even want to get into selena sexting minors, because what the actual fuck - i didn't even find out about that until yesterday, and it digusts me. for those of you defending her by saying "oh she's still a minor herself!" so let me ask you this, would you let your eight grade sister / brother date a grown as the fuck senior in high school? because it almost as equivalent to that. and you should be ashamed for defending someone like that.
i encourage anyone who's gone through the same thing as me to immediately notice the signs and cut whoever you cut out of your life, because it can and will negatively affect her. selena has done this to multiple friends of mine and / or multiple people i'm associated with, and they've unfortunately had this same experience with her. nobody deserves to go through this at all, and if you ever want to talk to me about anything or you guys need anything at all, my inbox or pms are open to anyone. and yes, i'm a safe person to come to because i genuinely care about all of you and your wellbeing. please be mindful and safe of the things you say to others, because you could end up having put yourself in a terrible situation because of it.
here are the links to some suicide prevention hotlines for anyone who needs them :
i love you all, please take care of yourselves and be safe on this app!
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Anger Management
Summary: Sami is sick and tired of you and Kevin's temper tantrums. He decides to do something about it.
pairings: Kevin Owens x Fem!Black!Reader x Sami Zayn
Warnings: Cursing, Fluff!!
word count: 3,651
tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant
a/n: I love zowens. they are so babygirl and have been my brain rot for so freaking long. Hope ya'll enjoy!
"And joining me are the Undisputed Tag Team Champions, Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens, and the WWE Women's Champion, Y/N!"
You walked over to Byron with your best friends on either side of you, the three of you wearing a smile to the camera. Albiet, at least a forced smile on your face. You had too much shit on your plate and an interview was the least important thing on your list.
"Thank you for having us Byron." Sami sensed that something was bothering you and rested his elbow on your shoulder, his touch conveying comfort as Kevin wore a similar forced smile on his face. He knew the two of you were on the brink of snapping as you had over the past couple weeks, but he hoped he didn't have to call you out in front of the cameras.
"No problem. Now, I have to ask you guys, how are you feeling with the Bloodline implosion that happened and we all knew would happen." The fake smiles dropped from you and Kevin's faces ,replaced with scowls that could melt steel.
"Oh my god Byron! Who cares about the stupid Bloodline? Cause I don't care! Don't you get sick and tired of asking these stupid questions about the stupid Bloodline, cause I am!" Kevin quite literally screamed in your ears, his face already flushed red with the force of his frustration.
"Kevin, calm down," Sami said, placing a hand on his arm and attempting to diffuse the situation as the tension in the room escalated.
But you thought Kevin was right. These stupid interviewers should be asking questions about things that actually matter, like I don't know, your championships?
"No, why should he calm down! Every time we're here, it's the same damn questions. 'How do you feel about the Bloodline? What are your thoughts about the new thing happening with the Bloodline?' It's like they don't care about anything else, even though we are the champions!" You glared at Byron, frustration boiling over as you vented your pent-up irritation.
"Y/N, calm down!" Sami was like a broken record, now grabbing your shoulder and trying to ease the rising tension.
"I-I'm sorry, I just asked because of the impact that the Bloodline has on the WWE since their inception-" Bryon's apologetic crap was cut off by Kevin, who was unable to contain his frustration any longer.
"Impact? Impact? You wanna talk about impact? How about the impact we've made as champions, huh? Y/N here is the Women's Champion, and Sami and I are the Undisputed Tag Team Champions! Doesn't that matter to you guys at all?"
"Yeah, doesn't that matter instead of this constant obsession with the Bloodline?" You chimed in, huffing at the repetitive nature of the interview questions. Byron, visibly taken aback, attempted to salvage the interview.
"I-I apologize if it seemed that way. We just thought that given the recent events with the Bloodline, it'd be relevant to—" Byron stuttered, trying to justify his line of questioning.
"Both of you, calm down!" Sami's loud voice echoed in the room, finally making you and Kevin be quiet and stop losing your shit. He took a deep breath, looking at each of you with a calming yet worrisome gaze.
"Look, I didn't wanna talk about this in front of Byron." Your eyebrows furrowed and you exchanged confused glances with Kevin, unsure of what Sami was about to address.
"No no, don't hold back for Byron's sake. Say it." You urged Sami, expecting another defense of both your frustration.s
Sami let out a sigh, looking between you and Kevin. "Alright, fine. You guys have an anger problem."
"......."
"What?" both you and Kevin exclaimed simultaneously, your voices dripping with disbelief.
"Yeah, right!" Kevin snorted, shooting a disbelieving glance at Sami. "I don't have an anger problem. I just don't tolerate nonsense, especially when it comes from idiots."
"Exactly," you chimed in, crossing your arms. "I don't have an anger problem either. I'm just passionate and talk loudly, Sami. You know this!"
Sami shook his head, his voice calm but assertive. "Guys, come on. Remember last week, Y/N, when Shayna accidentally spilled water on you? You nearly went off the rails, ready to take her down."
"She did it on purpose!" you exclaimed defensively, crossing your arms.
"The janitor accidentally pushed her! You saw it!" Sami countered, frustration creeping into his tone.
Turning to Kevin, Sami continued, "And you, Kevin, remember when you nearly went after Vinci for simply walking past you?"
"That baldie shouldn't have been walking past me all smug!" Kevin defended, his agitation evident.
Sami shook his head, a mix of concern and exasperation on his face. "See, that's what I'm talking about. You both have a tendency to overreact to minor things."
"That's ridiculous!" you protested.
"Yeah, we're just passionate about what we do!" Kevin added, crossing his arms defiantly.
Sami sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, here's the deal. If you both can get through the rest of tonight without snapping at anybody or anything, I'll drop it. But if either of you loses your cool, you have to admit to me that you both have a problem."
You exchanged a glance with Kevin, both of you wearing expressions torn between determination and skepticism. You guys totally did not have a problem, and you were gonna prove Sami wrong.
"Y'know what, fine. This is gonna be so easy anyways, you know why Y/N?" Kevin asked, a smug smile on his face.
"I know why. Because we don't have an anger problem in the first place!!" You paused with a smug grin on your face as you caught sight of Sami's knowing expression, the challenge set before you. "Let's get through this night without a single outburst, and then we'll see who's right."
The evening progressed, and Sami remained by your sides, observing the situations with a subtle smirk, occasionally looking at his watch as if counting down to something. You and Kevin did your best to keep your composure, but as the night unfolded, it grew increasingly challenging.
The three of you were walking down the hallway, when a technician accidentally bumped into Kevin, spilling water on him. You and Sami looked at each other in bated breath, anticipating Kevin's reaction. Surprisingly, Kevin's jaw clenched, but he managed to keep his cool, wiping the water off his jacket and giving the tech a fake smile.
"Oh, and it's ice water! You hate being wet and cold!" Sami's words seemed to make Kevin's eye twitch as you grabbed a towel, handing it to Kevin.
"Nah, it's all good! You're all good, dude." Kevin wiped the water off his shirt and forced a smile, much to the surprise of both you and Sami. You exchanged a glance with Sami, impressed by Kevin's composure.
Riddle strolled up to the three of you, flashing his trademark grin. Internally, you groaned, knowing Matt's tendency to spark off conversations at the most inconvenient times. As expected, he turned his attention to you, his relaxed demeanor exuding a laid-back vibe.
"Hey there, champs! Y/N, you're looking absolutely fabulous tonight. How about after the show, we grab some pizza and talk about the universe, man?" Ride flashed a grin in your direction, his relaxed and carefree attitude making your nerves jump.
"Umm, I'm good, Riddle." You tried to give Riddle the hint that you didnt wanna talk to him, but he didn't seem to catch it.
"Bro, c'mon, we can hang out, chill, and vibe together. It'll be totally awesome!" Matt continued, undeterred by your attempts to politely decline his offer.
"I'm really good, Riddle." You tried to signal your discomfort, but Riddle's obliviousness persisted.
"And then we can just kick it, grab a slice, and-" You cut Matt off mid-sentence, unable to take it anymore.
"Riddle, shut your mouth before I-" , Before you could say more, you glanced at Sami's expression, your words faltered mid-sentence. Panic flashed across your face as you realized what you were about to say.His raised eyebrow and warning look stopped you in your tracks. God, the hold this man has on you.
"I, uh, mean, shut up! I was just thinking of grabbing a bite with Kevin and Sami, thanks but, uh, never mind," you stumbled, trying to salvage the situation. Matt, oblivious to the tension, simply chuckled and shrugged, sauntering away in his usual carefree manner.
Sami looked at you with an amused yet knowing expression, clearly enjoying the struggle you were facing to keep your cool. "Smooth recovery there, Habibti. Real smooth."
You rolled your eyes as Kevin patted your shoulder, reassuringly. "You did the best you could with Riddle. That man does not know when to shut up." At Sami's look, Kevin shot his arms out and said defensively,
"Hey, it's true!"
Then, when you were busy doing your makeup backstage, Sami and Kevin sitting with you gossiping with themselves, Vinci and Ludwig Kaiser walked in, their smug expressions instantly causing a change in the atmosphere. You continued to focus on your makeup, hoping they'd leave without any confrontation. But that was just wishful thinking.
“Well well well, look who it is, Vinci sneered, glancing at Sami and Kevin before his eyes fixed on you. "The so-called champions, huh? How's it feel knowing that your reign is coming to an end soon?"
You clenched your jaw, internally cursing their timing. Sami linked both his hands with yours and Kevins, leaning closer as if trying to create a barrier between you and the duo. “To what do we owe this pleasure, Vinci?" Sami replied, trying to maintain a composed tone, though a hint of annoyance slipped through.
Vinci and Ludwig exchanged smug glances before Vinci continued, "Oh, just thought we'd remind you lads and the pretty lady here," Vinci smirked, his gaze lingering on you, "that our time is coming. The Undisputed Tag Team Championships are practically ours for the taking."
“Pretty lady?” Kevin muttered under his breath in disbelief, face scrunching up at the thought of someone like them flirting with you in front of him.
"You two again," You grumbled, visibly frustrated but trying your best to keep your mouth shut.
Vinci chuckled, clearly enjoying getting under your skin. “Oh, that reminds me, I got you a gift, darling.”
Kevin’s eye twitched when Vinci brought his arm out from behind his back and presented you flowers with a mocking smile, his tone dripping with condescension.
“A little something for the lady, you know, before I take your championships and her too."
You clicked your tongue sarcastically, refusing to take the flowers. “I’m good, baldie.”
Sami’s eyes darted between Vinci, Ludwig, you, and Kevin, sensing the tension thickening in the room. He moved swiftly, stepping closer to you and placing a hand gently on your shoulder, attempting to stop the escalating situation.
"Vinci, enough. Take your gifts and your talk somewhere else," Sami interjected, his voice firm trying to steer the conversation away from an inevitable explosion.
But Vinci persisted, pushing them closer to you. "Come on, don't be rude. A lady always accepts a gift."
That was the final straw. Kevin's patience snapped like a stretched rubber band. No one talks to you like that. He lunged forward, snatching the flowers from Vinci's hand. With a glare burning with fury, he threw the flowers onto the ground, stomping on them without any remorse.
“You wanna know how she feels about you? This is how she feels about you!” Kevin stomped on the flowers, his voice raised with anger as he directed his fury at Vinci. “This is how we all feel about you!”
Sami immediately stepped in between Kevin and Vinci, trying to defuse the situation before it escalated further. "Kevin, stop!"
But Kevin was seething, his chest heaving with anger. “No! I’m sick of these guys! I just wanna punch them in the face! So you know what?” Kevin grabbed his titles, pointing a finger in Vinci’s shocked face. “I am gonna punch you in the face! Me you, in that ring, right now!” Kevin left angrily, huffing and puffing. You and Sami watched in disbelief as Kevin stormed off, his frustration palpable, taking your titles and chasing after him.
At least Kevin waited until the bell rang to unleash his rage. This didn’t count, right?
As the night wore on, you both managed to navigate through various situations that tested your patience. However, the ultimate test came when Rhea, your long-time rival, interrupted you and your best friends promo in the ring.
Everyone knows you hate being interrupted!! She made her way to the ring with a smirk on her face, and her presence alone was enough to spike your blood pressure.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the overrated Women's Champion and her two sidekicks," Rhea sneered, eyeing you with disdain before turning her attention to Kevin and Sami. "And you two, still sticking around with her? Pathetic."
You bit your fist, and it was almost comical the way you were trying so hard to hold your frustration and anger bubbling beneath the surface at Rhea's derogatory remarks back. You exchanged a tense glance with Kevin, who clenched his fists but managed to maintain his composure. Sami stood between you and Rhea, sensing the rising tension.
"Rhea, there's no need for this," Sami interjected, attempting to defuse the situation.
"No need for what? To state the truth?" Rhea shot back, her words laced with venom. "It's quite clear, isn't it? Y/N here is a paper champion, and you two," she gestured dismissively at Kevin and Sami, "are just carrying dead weight. Champions? Ha!"
You struggled to keep your cool, your fists tightening at your sides. Sami shot you a warning look, silently urging you to maintain control. You tried to hold back the boiling rage at Rhea's words, but you were barely hanging on. Rhea got in your face at your lack of a response, smirking smugly, her words laced with malice.
"You know, you're just proving everyone right by staying silent. Can't handle the truth, can you?" Rhea taunted, her voice dripping with condescension.
"Shut up, Rhea." She ignored you, smiling devilishly.
"You are nothing but a fake champion."
"Shut up Rhea."
"You and your boys are nothing but a joke." Rhea's voice raised an octave, emphasizing each word with deliberate malice.
That was it. The last straw. No one talks about your boys without getting their ass kicked.
In a split second, without thinking, your hand swung, delivering a resounding slap across Rhea's face. Rhea quickly punched you in retaliation, causing chaos to erupt in the ring as Kevin and Sami tried to separate the two of you, but it was like trying to separate wild animals.
Hair pulling, name-calling, and nail scratching ensued before Sami and Kevin latched both your arms and finally grabbed you, dragging you out of the ring as security rushed in to separate the brawl between you and Rhea. The backstage area was a frenzy of commotion as Sami and Kevin struggled to restrain your boiling anger.
"Let me go! She had it coming!" you shouted, struggling against their grasp, your rage still uncontainable.
"Y/N, stop it!" Sami's voice was firm, but there was a hint of concern. "This is exactly what I was talking about."
"I don't have an anger problem! She insulted us!" you retorted, trying to break free.
The security guards stepped in, helping to separate the chaos. Rhea was being escorted in another direction, both of you yelling insults and threats back and forth.
"You psycho bitch!" Rhea screamed at you as she was being escorted away.
"Takes one to know one, bitch!" You yelled back, trying to break free of Sami and Kevins' grip, but they literally dragged you out of the arena, the camera capturing the chaotic scene as the broadcast switched to another segment.
They finally let go of you once you were outside, breathing heavily, seething with frustration, and the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.
"I can't believe she said those things about us! She had it coming," you muttered angrily, pacing back and forth. Kevin was equally as angry for you, pacing with you, and Sami just about had enough.
Sami sighed, rubbing his temples, clearly disappointed but not surprised by the outcome. "Y/N, that's exactly what I was afraid of. We need to talk about this."
"Talk about what? I defended us!" Your voice raised defensively, refusing to accept the possibility of having an anger issue.
"Y/N, you lost control. And so did Kevin, with Imperium. We can't keep denying this," Sami explained, his tone firm yet understanding.
Kevin crossed his arms, looking away with a stubborn expression. "I don't have an anger issue. That was just... Imperium being Imperium."
"Guys, come on," Sami pleaded, trying to reason with both of you. "It took you both one night to prove my point."
Sami's expression was a mix of disappointment and concern. "Y/N, Kevin, this is what I was afraid of. You both need to admit that this is a problem."
"No! She insulted us! She had it coming!" you protested, grabbing Sami's hand and trying to make him see reason.
"Yeah, you know how annoying she can be, Sami. You can't expect us to just stand there and take it!" Kevin interjected, his frustration evident in his tone.
"Guys, this isn't about her. It's about us," Sami said firmly, trying to make you both understand. He squeezed your hand, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe your agitation.
"Look, I understand why you both reacted the way you did. But it's not about just this one incident. It's a pattern. We've had multiple instances where both of you have almost crossed the line," Sami explained, his voice filled with concern.
You sighed, feeling the weight of Sami's words sinking in. "I just... I hate when someone talks trash about us. I can't help but react."
"I get it, habibti. I really do." Sami put his arm around your shoulders, trying to comfort you. "But we need to find a way to handle situations like these without losing control. And the same goes for you, Kevin."
Kevin sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fine. Maybe... maybe I overreacted a little."
Sami let out a little smile, it wasn't often the two of you admitted any fault. "That's a start, Kev." He brought him into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles into his back as a silent thank you for his admission before turning to you, his expression softening. "Y/N, what about you?"
You sighed, not wanting to admit it but knowing deep down that Sami was right. Sami sensed your hesitation and gave you a tight but relaxing hug that left you momentarily speechless. When he pulled away, he looked at you with a gentle yet firm expression, waiting for your response.
"I... maybe I did overreact," you admitted, reluctantly conceding to Sami's observation. "But she was out of line."
Sami nodded understandingly, a small smile making its way onto his cute face at the way you were trying to come to terms with it. "I know she was, habibti. But that's what she wants. She wants to get under your skin, and when you react, she wins."
Sami paused, his eyes meeting yours, his gaze gentle yet firm. "I know you are protective of us, and I love you for that. But I don't want it to be at the cost of your well being. And my ears can't take any more screaming."
You chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. "Okay, okay," you relented, leaning into Sami's embrace. "Next time I'll just think of ripping of the face of whoever annoys me instead of actually doing it."
"That's all I'm asking for," Sami giggled, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He then turned to Kevin, who stood there with a thoughtful expression.
"Kevin?" Sami's tone was encouraging, yet serious, awaiting Kevin's response.
Kevin scratched the back of his neck, his expression softening. "Yeah, alright. I'll work on it too." Sami smiled at him and leaned down to give him a platonic kiss on the cheek as well,, Kevin's anger melting away with every touch.
There was a peaceful silence until you and Kevin exchanged a glance, both of you having the same train of thought.
"But what if Rhea-"
"No."
"But what if Vinci tries to-"
"No."
"But what if-"
"No buts, guys!" Sami stopped your questions, laughing at your predictability. "Nothing is gonna happen tonight and if it does, we'll handle it together, calmly." Sami emphasized the last part, looking between the two of you with a serious look, as if daring you to object.
Kevin and you exchanged a knowing look, both of you thinking how this adorable puppy dog of a man could scare you more than any opponent in the ring when he's serious. You nodded in unison, accepting Sami's terms, knowing he wouldn't allow anything else.
Sami beamed, pleased that you both agreed. "Thank you. Now, if the two of you don't fight in the car, we can get Waffle House on the way back. Deal?"
"Deal!" You and Kevin chorused, sharing a smile at the thought of enjoying some delicious waffles after the intense night. You linked your arms with Sami and Kevin, walking to the rental car, ready to put the night behind and embrace the comfort of waffles and each other's company.
The two of you knew you'd have to eventually work on your anger, but you ignored that with the promise of delicious waffles in store for you tonight. (And maybe you'd break your promise to Sami by fighting over the bill, but that was future you's problems).
#wwe x reader#wwe fanfiction#wwe imagine#wwe fic#wwe x black reader#nxt x reader#sami zayn smut#sami zayn imagine#sami zayn fanfiction#sami zayn x reader#wwe x you#wwe x fem reader#kevin owens x reader#kevin owens fanfiction#kevin owens imagine#rhea ripley x reader#wwe x oc#wwe x y/n#zowens#zowens x reader#kevin owens smut#wwe#wwe fluff#wwe smut#wwe imagines
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I'm really tired. I just transferred to a new university to study psychology and it has been the actual worst experience in every aspect. The two biggest issues are the fact that I am autistic and thusly have issues making friends, and that I have this god-awful professor in my counseling class.
This professor is OFF his rocker. He actively talks about the secret society he is in, trying to teach us preposterous things that have no place in that class or even the school at all. I could write a novel about every problematic thing he has said, but my most major issue with him is how he views and treats women, and continuously brings sexual topics up when they have no relevance to the course material.
He has disrespected his wife over the phone in the middle of class and then tried to justify his behavior using his gender, spoken extensively about what features men don't like on women such as makeup or plastic surgery. He says "natural" women are "healthy" (well-endowed) in either the chest or behind but not both, and are uneven in the chest. He specifically targeted my classmate, who was the only one wearing false eyelashes, to say that men don't like that either.
Another time he told us that women run the world because men are obsessed with us, that we are not oppressed at all, yet he turns around and tells us how women in the corporate world go commando under their skirts and sleep around to work up the corporate ladder. He says this in a way that puts women to shame for this as well.
This week, though, was completely different. His departure from the course material started with the extremely invasive question, "what do you remember about your transition to adolescence?" Again targeting that very same classmate. I blink and he is now telling us that the male experience during puberty is far worse than what women experience, basically saying that—excuse my bluntness—getting a boner in class is much worse than anything women go through, even turning to our singular male classmate for backup on this.
He also tries to tell us that its so so bad for boys because the girls actively try to touch them or make them "psychologically disturbed," as he worded so decoratively. What adolescent girl wants anything to do with that when she's going through her own problems? Since when were young girls going out of their way to trouble boys like this? I was actively trying to deter boys during this time.
I and the other two women in my class were disputing all of this, until our professor finally said, "I will just let that go over y'all heads cause you will never understand the male experience," to which I, shaking with rage, replied, "—and vice versa."
My mental health has been suffering severely, and much worse since this happened Monday. I had never felt such pure, primordial rage towards someone before. This man makes me feel not only objectified but also demonized. Last night was my breaking point, working on one of his assignments. I experienced the most intense mental breakdown of my life so far, and afterwards spent all but two hours of the night trying to cram the project that was due today.
I guess my point is that I would report him, but my school makes it nigh impossible to do so. I'm perpetually exhausted and I do not know if I can make it through the last two weeks of class. I want so badly to be petty and spiteful to his face, but for the most part I've controlled it.
I don't really know what I'm looking for by doing this. I guess I just want to know what you think? Apologies for the length of my message.
Such is the mentality I encountered often in my youth by Hylian men, and women, toward my sisters. They would lust after my sisters based on their attire and physique, while also attempting to demonize them and ostracize them for the exact same reasons.
In short, men are cowards who carry the darkest urges shamelessly, but are too prideful to admit the problem within themselves. Instead, the vilify women for their own indiscretions.
They will openly mock my Gerudo for their appearance, while desiring nothing more than to own their flesh in the most disturbing of ways.
This professor seems like a prime example of the Hylian males I encountered. But if this is the case, then so too is his weakness.
He has likely been thwarted in his past in his attempts to procure a mate to his liking, and due to his pride, he believes it is all of womanhood to blame, and not himself.
This one he singles out is likely similar to those he desired but could never obtain in his youth. As such, he blames all others for his own shortcomings.
Likely too with his mate. I would assume her physique does not fit the desires he now feels entitled to, and as such he makes her the target of his criticism.
But through all of this, he reveals a second weakness.
Fear.
He fears that which he cannot control, and women as a whole seem out of his grasp. Every slight, every jab, and every assault from his lips is but proof that he is afraid of what women are capable.
In the midst of a Gerudo warrior, this professor of yours would crumble like kindling to a flame.
Take solace in the knowledge that you are superior to this worm, for you are what he can never have.
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Badboyhalo gets advice from Reddit
Bad panics after Skeppy releases Best Friend and decides to ask for relationship advice on Reddit because he doesn’t know who else to turn to
979 words
r/relationship_advice u/throwaway132166922
My (M29) best friend (M23) made a song about me and I don’t know how to feel about it.
I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I’m so paranoid about anyone finding out who I am but I frequent this subreddit a lot and can't find anyone who is in the same situation as me. I also don’t know who I can even talk to about this since we have a lot of mutual friends. If this gets too much traction I’m deleting it quickly, here goes nothing >_<
Here’s the context, me and my friend have known each other online for a while and have been friends for around 4 years (my friends poke fun that we have our ‘anniversary’ memorized but I digress.) We’ve half heartedly been making plans to meetup for the past few years. What can I say? I don’t like leaving the house and never really had the urge to meet any of my online friends. I’d argue that you could have a meaningful relationship with someone and never meet them irl. Anyways, I never took these conversations too seriously. I would always say I’m not ready yet, it’s too close to the holidays, who’s going to take care of my dog? The one time we did have concrete plans I was sick with covid and I had a long recovery. And we just never followed up with a reschedule.
I never knew how much this affected my friend until he wrote this sort of… rap and produced it with one of our mutual friends. He insults me, saying I have a massive ego, I’m a psycho, it’s my fault I made him ‘feel blue,’ and immediately backtracks and compliments me. There’s another lyric that says I’m pushing him away and if I’m hiding something? This part I have to quote verbatim because it’s the part I understand the least,
“I can’t really say my true intentions
It’s all just miscommunication
Please don’t take it the wrong way
I love you dude and I hope we’re okay”
And that’s how it ends. Meanwhile, I had no clue my friend was having this type of conflicting feelings about me. Or how much us meeting up meant to him. Yeah maybe we’d go from talking every day to messaging each other only semi frequently but that’s just the evolution of a friendship right? We were both getting busier as our respective careers became more time-consuming but that’s nobody’s fault, is it? I know I should apologize to him for never taking his requests for us to meetup too seriously but I think there’s something else under the surface.
Does he want to confess to me? I keep going back to that lyric, “I can’t really say my true intentions.” He’s pretty much ripped his heart out on this song but there’s /one/ thing he can’t say to me? Does it have to do with him wanting to preserve our friendship, that it’ll be strained in some way if he confesses? I don’t know what gives him that impression, a lot of our friends are lgbt+. Heck, a lot of them make jokes that we like each other already. Anyways, there shouldn’t be anything deterring him from confessing if that’s what he is trying to do. Or not trying to do.
Any advice is appreciated. I still haven’t said anything to him directly since he made that song.
u/amycat1203
Whatever you two have going on is gayer than any gay person I know irl
-> Reply u/throwaway132166922
If I had a nickel for every time I heard that -_-
u/justadudelmao
This is too outrageous to be fake, so I’m trying to take this seriously. It sounds like y’all have some shit to talk out in person. If the next message you send him isn’t a confirmation for a plane ticket you’re the problem
-> Reply u/throwaway132166922
If I travel to him it won’t be by plane, I have a phobia. But you’re right :/ I need to make it up to him soon if this is how he feels about us not meeting up
u/matchmakingismypassion
Maybe he has reason to believe you wouldn’t want him to confess to you. How do you react to the jokes your friends make about you together? Do you even reciprocate any possible romantic feelings to him?
->Reply u/throwaway132166922
It’s complicated, early on in our friendship he’d flirt with me as a troll and I’d always politely turn him down. I’ve known about him for so long, even before he was 18. I wasn’t comfortable indulging in this kind of joke. So even if he was 19 when he made these comments, he felt too young for me. He grew out of it and eventually we were inseparable as best friends, to the point that our mutual friends would tease us. Both of us would casually deny anything to our friends but honestly, I wouldn’t mind dating him if he made the first move. But you understand why I can’t make the first move, right?
->Reply u/matchmakingismypassion
To me it sounds like he shouldn’t make the first move either if all he’s ever heard from you is rejection. Especially if you can’t even make the effort to meetup, something he obviously wants from you. He made the song as a plea to start an open dialogue, and that starts with you bud.
u/skephalofan141414
EVERYONE. THIS STORY IS FAKE. This is some guy pretending to be Badboyhalo about the song Skeppy made called “Best Friend” on youtube. You’re a weirdo trying to karma farm off of a story that isn’t yours to tell
->Reply u/thisteaishotaf
Who??? Link please???
->Reply u/skephalofan141414
https://youtu.be/skDch34PtEM?si=Usxbm6LXisq9xWCD
->Reply u/thisteaishotaf
Why the fuck would his friend post this on a minecraft channel LMAO
#skephalo#skephalo fic#I wrote this a while ago I’m surprised it took me this long to post lol#badboyhalo#skeppy
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hello! this is my first time sending asks as a prompt, i'm a little nervous😅can you please write a drabble for KC's first kiss like with them being all nervous/ anxious about it? I love your drabble collection!
“So, what you're saying is,” Klaus says slowly, for the fifth time. “I can fuck you.”
It’s all Caroline can do not to roll her eyes at him. “Yes.”
He pauses for a minute, then speaks again, just as slowly. “No.”
“No, I said you could.”
“No, I heard that,” Klaus says slowly. “I'm processing.”
“Mm,” Caroline says, her irritation now growing. “I say that you can fuck me and you say I'm processing?”
Klaus sends a glare her way. “You're four years younger than me.”
“And legally an adult, so what's the problem?”
“And, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
Caroline has the strong urge to kick him in the balls. “When did you turn into Elijah?”
“I didn’t,” Klaus shoots back. “It’s—you're in high school.”
“For like, another month.”
“I'm in college,” Klaus goes on, apparently not hearing her at all. “You're Rebekah’s friend, I—yes, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Cheers to that,” Caroline snipes, picking up her purse and getting to her feet. “Right, well, I'm going to go, seeing how I've made a fool out of myself by propositioning you when you clearly don’t want to sleep with me—”
“Well, I never said I didn’t want to.”
“Do you want me to hit you?” she asks hotly.
To his credit, Klaus looks appropriately abashed. “I was just saying…you'd probably regret it.”
“Whoa, give yourself some credit, buddy, I've seen the girls who walk out of your apartment in the morning.”
“Not that,” Klaus snipes, his ears red. “It’ll be awkward seeing me again and again after this. It’s not like you and Rebekah are going to stop being friends, and Kol—”
“Well, it’s not like we’re going to tell them about it.”
“What if they find out? I don’t want you and Rebekah fighting—”
“If she does find out, which she won't, I’ll just tell her it’s not her business. Which it isn't.”
“Well, of course it isn't, but—”
“Klaus. Do you not want to sleep with me? If not, just tell me so I can leave because, right now, I feel like an idiot.”
“It’s not that,” he says impatiently. “Of course I want you. You're beautiful, Caroline, and intelligent, but I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”
Well, that was unexpected.
Caroline gapes at him. “You don’t do relationships.”
“But I want one with you,” he says firmly. “I don’t want this to be a one night stand, Caroline. I've fancied you for years, and I've wanted you since years, but I don’t want us to be something that we had once and then forgot about. I want you.”
Caroline opens her mouth, then closes it again. “So the reason you were stalling was because you want to date me?”
A flush rises up Klaus’s sharp cheekbones. “Do you not want to?”
I've had a crush on you since I was eight. Of course I want to.
Klaus takes her silence as a bad sign. “If you don’t want to—”
“Of course I want to,” Caroline bursts out. “I've always wanted to.”
The smile on his face is so beautiful it nearly melts her. “You do? You're sure?”
“Klaus,” she huffs. “I'm eighteen. I've had eighteen year old boyfriends. I know how this works.”
Klaus stands up slowly, his face almost at level with hers. “You do,” he says quietly.
“Yes,” she says a little breathlessly, because sue her, he's her first crush and still as hot as he was at sixteen, perhaps even more, and he's looking at her like he wants to eat her.
“So if I kiss you—”
“Maybe you should,” Caroline cuts in. “Just kiss me, I mean. Then I could kiss you back and you could stop pretending like you haven’t been looking at me like you wanted me since I was sixteen.”
Klaus sucks in a breath. “I—I'm sor—”
“No, don’t apologize,” Caroline breathes. “I wasn’t much better. Much worse, actually.”
“I seriously doubt that,” he whispers, then kisses her like he's drowning. Caroline moans as she opens her mouth, hands curled into fists opening and curling around his shoulder. Klaus slips his tongue inside her mouth and groans when she scratches her nails against the nape of his neck. His fingers drift over the waistband of her skirt, then move down to her legs.
“Is this alright?” he whispers, his hand against her bare thigh as he trails it upwards.
“Obviously,” she gasps, tugging it closer as she fiddles with his belt buckle. She’s honestly surprised with how fast she’s climbing. Klaus is a very good kisser, now leaving wet kisses on her neck.
Klaus’s hand reaches her hip under her skirt, and Caroline is very satisfied at the way he swallows. “Love,” he says, his voice unsteady. “Why aren’t you wearing knickers?”
“I think the better question is why aren’t you taking advantage of that fact?” Caroline demands, winding her fingers into his hair and tugging him closer. “Touch me.”
Her legs almost threaten to give out at the first brush of his fingers against her clit. “Steady, love.” The asshole actually has the nerve to sound amused. “I'd hate for you to slip.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Caroline gasps as his fingers move inside her, gripping his hair tighter.
“I certainly hope you do. Multiple times.”
Caroline groans at the steady climb he’s leading her on, and presses herself closer to his body. “I know the wall isn't the most practical place to have sex for the first time,” Caroline gasps as he tugs her closer to him as well, his mouth moving up her jaw. “But can we please get naked now?”
“Isn't the most practical place?” Klaus’s voice is teasing, completely at odds with the serious look in his eyes. “I've only wanted you since years. The wall is a very prominent feature in my fantasies.” He smirks, hoisting her up slightly to wrap her legs around his waist, carrying her towards the wall.
Caroline tears herself away from his lips with a gasp. “Wait, let me take my heels off—”
“Do not,” he growls, setting her down and lifting her shirt up, shoving his hands up her bra. “Leave the heels on, sweetheart.” His hands find their way to her back and unclasp her bra, leaving her torso bare. His laps latch on to one nipple, and Caroline’s eyes fly open.
“Oh, god,” she moans as he increases the pressure of his fingers slightly between her thighs. “Don’t stop.”
“Open your eyes and tell me how much you don’t want me to, then.”
She complies, letting out another moan at the look in his eyes. “Tell me,” he demands, the motions of his fingers slowing.
And she definitely can't have that. “Don’t stop.”
“Say my name,” Klaus demands, removing his fingers and licking them clean. He drops to his knees, his lustful gaze unwavering.
“Klaus,” she moans as he leaves a kiss on her inner thigh.
“More.”
“Klaus,” she gasps. “Don’t stop. Make me come.”
Caroline actually shudders at the first swipe of his tongue against her cunt, keeling forward. Klaus stretches up an arm to steady her, gently pushing her back to lean against the wall. “Steady, love,” he says, sounding amused.
“Get your mouth back on me.”
He obeys, gripping her thighs and bringing them to rest over his shoulders. She sobs out his name when he thrust his tongue inside her, a wave of bliss cascading through her as her orgasm rolls over her.
Klaus kisses his way up her body, stopping to trail his tongue over her breasts. She moans when he kisses her, her palms flying to rest on his chest.
“How is it fair,” she gasps when she pulls away for air, “that you're still wearing pants?”
“Take them off yourself, sweetheart.”
“Do you want me to undress you, Klaus?” Caroline asks huskily, smirking at the way his mouth parts slightly. “Do you want—”
“I want you,” he growls, shoving down his pants, hoisting her up and carrying her to the sofa. “Please tell me you have a condom.”
“You don’t?”
“Mm, they're in my bedroom,” he says, kissing her sloppily. “Too far.”
“There’s one in my purse.”
Klaus reaches behind him blindly and hands Caroline her bag. She rummages through it with a fervour, letting out a triumphant sound when she finds it. Klaus snatches it from her, tearing open the packet with his teeth. She helps him roll it on, relishing the way his eyes flutter with her hands on him. Caroline places a hand on his abs and rolls them over, placing her hands on his shoulders for balance as she sinks down.
Klaus’s hands on her hips tighten. “Wait.”
“What?”
The kiss he gives her is almost sweet. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”
“I've never been surer,” she answers, gasping out his name when she sinks down. “Klaus.”
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, his eyes looking into her with a reverence she’s never seen before.
When she moves, it’s heaven.
Klaus moans at the first thrust of her hips, tearing his lips away from hers. “You feel amazing,” he groans. “Do that again.”
Caroline grips his chin and yanks it up, looking into his eyes without stopping the movements of her hips. “Why’d you stop kissing me?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he moans, pulling her closer to kiss her again. “Fuck, Caroline.”
Their orgasms hit them almost at once, Klaus reaching down to rub her clit after he finishes, helping her come. They come down after their highs together, arms and limbs tangled together in a sweaty embrace.
Klaus is the first to move, tilting his head up to kiss her. “Mm,” she hums. “That was nice.”
“So much better than nice, love.”
Caroline agrees. Strongly. “Round two?” she suggests after a few minutes of messy kisses, tilting her towards the bedroom. “I can help you test out your new headboard and you can help me get cleaned off in the shower.”
She doesn’t think she’s ever seen a man move faster.
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Fear Itself
“What’s your greatest fear?”
The question is innocuous. A silly question prompted amidst other silly questions.
Buck leans his head against the tree behind him. His Coke bottle sits next to his leg, condensation leaving a wet imprint behind. Curt, who’d asked the question, plucks a few blades of grass fiddling with them. His blue eyes are bright, but his smile has an air of melancholy to it. Camped out at the edge of one of the fields surrounding Thorpe Abbotts simply watching the sun edge ever closer to the horizon is probably the only place he’d felt safe enough to ask such a question even when his tone suggested it was in jest.
You don’t talk about fear or death here.
“Wow Curt, digging real deep with that one.” John laughs on the ground next to him. Jacket scrunched up under his head, John’s smile shines in the light of the setting sun. “I don’t know.”
“C’mon Bucky, you’ve got to have one fear,” Curt kicks a foot out to nudge John’s leg. John tilts his head thinking once more. Buck shifts just so, setting his spine to the tree now.
“Not sure,” John shrugs finally. “What does greatest even mean? My worst fear or my biggest fear?”
“Ain’t they the same?” Curt leans his head onto his cupped hand watching John. Buck keeps his silence.
“Worst implies it’s the most serious, maybe the scariest.” John stares up at the sky. “Biggest implies that its larger than the others not that it’s the scariest.”
“Alright, what’s your biggest fear?” Curt meets Buck’s gaze just to roll his eyes at John. Buck lets a smile split his face. Curt’s doing this all in good fun, and he knows John is yanking his chain simply for something to do and discuss.
John thinks for a moment. Finally, something must pop into his head because he lifts it with a soft noise. Triumphant blue eyes meet Curt’s to proudly proclaim one word.
“Geese!”
Buck can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him. Curt joins him not a moment later. John smiles at the pair of them not the least bit offended. Happy to hear their laughter even at his own expense no doubt. Buck tries to catch his breath.
“Why in Sam Hill is geese your biggest fear Bucky?” Buck picks up his Coke bottle. The cold soda feels good in the muggy English heat. John scrunches his brows thinking on it. Buck resists the urge to reach down to smooth out the lines in his face. He’ll let John tell his story instead.
“Well, my neighbor back home used to feed ‘em,” John picks up his hands gesturing. “In the summer, there they’d be every morning waiting for him to put out whatever he fed ‘em. Only problem was some of them used to think our house was his!”
Curt folds over next to them laughing. Buck lifts an amused brow at him. He lifts his soda for another sip as John keeps talking. Curt sneaks a hand out to steal a sip himself. He drains nearly half the bottle before handing it back to an exasperated Buck. A cheeky air kiss is the only apology he gets in return. John’s voice grabs his attention before he can retaliate.
“They’d bang on the backdoor until one of us came out, and my sisters always nominated me! So I, being an amazing brother,” John cranes his neck up to catch Buck’s eye looking for some sort of validation or support. “Had to go out there and get them over to the neighbors before they started digging up my mother’s flowerbeds!”
“Course,” Buck murmurs. John smiles up at him, eyes scrunched up. Buck can just hear the other crooning about how deep and pretty Buck’s voice is like that.
Nudging the man to get on with his story, Buck puts his Coke bottle down. John abandons his jacket to lay his head against Buck’s thigh with a soft content sigh. With his cheek pressed a few inches above his knee, Buck savors the picture the other makes with his tossed curls and soft exhales. Curt sends him a heated glance that John steamrolls past.
“Geese have teeth! On their tongues! Did ya know that, Buck? The stuff of nightmares I swear!” John shudders inching closer to Buck. Curt ducks his head with a poorly hidden smile. “I can’t tell you how many times those birds chased me around the yard until they finally realized they had the wrong house.”
“So, geese are the best way to chase you off?” Buck asks. John reaches up to pinch him, but Buck grabs his wrist just before any contact is made. He holds it gently running a thumb over the soft skin of his inner wrist. John’s pulse beat faint under his touch, but it’s comforting.
"So what about you?" John turns to stare at Curt leaving his wrist caught in Buck's grip. "What's your biggest fear?"
"Easy," Curt scoffs, "Flying naked.”
Laughter bubbles out of John. Bright and loud, his laughter drifts through the air unburdened. Buck even huffs out his own laugh as he watches John breathlessly try to recover.
“No, you see that’s a valid fear!” Curt protests. John wipes small tears from his eyes even as he keeps laughing. “What if something freezes off?”
“He makes a good point. Gets mighty cold up there.” Buck butts in just to set John off once more. Curt rolls his eyes at the pair of them, but accepts their good-natured ribbing nonetheless. Perhaps that had been his intent all along. Too often these days, laughter went unheard. Too often Buck was forced to watch the two people most important to him grow dim when they used to glow so brilliantly.
Buck knows a lot about fears. The fears Curt's asking about are the silly ones, the ones that people can laugh at themselves for having given the right mood. There are worse things in life than these fears, but perhaps, Buck thinks, if they can laugh at these small fears, they can face the worse ones, the greater ones.
John tips his head back to stare up at Buck. His crooked grin beckons Buck in, just as inviting today as it was the day they met. Curt crawls closer laying his head against Buck’s shoulder. Buck reaches out for his hand, a gift that Curt willingly offers.
“Haven’t told us your biggest fear Buck.” Curt runs his free hand through John’s hair. The other preens leaning into the touch. The pair of them turn their big blue eyes to him. The sun dips ever lower on the horizon casting the pair of them in brilliant golden light.
His greatest fear? Losing this. But that could wait for another day. Right now, they’re safe, and for now that’s enough. Buck knows a lot about fears that’s true. But here, he doesn’t have to.
“Hmm,” Buck tips his head to the side. He considers them both. Flicks his eyes up to the pretty blue sky as bright fluffy clouds lazily trail past.
“Do I have to have one?”
#mota#masters of the air#john bucky egan#gale buck cleven#curt biddick#curtbuckbucky#mota fanfic#mota fic#gale cleven#john egan#buck cleven#bucky egan#curt x buck x bucky#my writing
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working on a more serious zelda fic for rauru x sonia, my current fav pairing. i'll share a little snippet under the cut for any who might be curious.
in the meantime, i figured i'd mention what i have posted and what i've got planned. i have one fic from eons ago that's more of a gag than anything else. T rated impa x sheik... kind of? not really. it can be found here if that sounds interesting. but i promise i can do better XD
other than this rauru x sonia biography-ish wip, i've got an impa x urbosa fic planned. likely will be multichap. both fics will have some M/E rated actions goin on, mainly the impa x urbosa. you cannot convince me that urbosa doesn't has insane game. i've also got some headcanons for gerudo culture that i've gotta write rather than explain. it's gonna be a really fun story.
rip impa.
anyway, snippet of the rauru x sonia fic below!! ♥
The door behind them creaked open just a touch. Rauru glanced over his shoulder and found the tiny figure of Sonia there, peering in curiously. “Come on in,” he beckoned. “Do you require assistance?”
“I would like a word, if possible.”
“Yes, of course.” He turned away from Mineru and stepped closer to the Hylian. “I never thanked you for the tea, did I?”
“You did, yes,” Sonia assured him. “Mineru, apologies but…may I speak with your brother in private?”
Mineru’s ears twitched as she turned away from her readings. “I—well, sure, I guess…” She awkwardly side-stepped towards the doorway. “Just…let me know when you’ve…finished.”
The doors closed and Rauru ruffled the back of his head. “Forgive her…she’s not the most verbose.”
“It’s not a problem.” Sonia stepped closer, keeping their distance familiar rather than professional. “Your travels went well?”
“The travel itself wasn’t particularly notable, which is a blessing.” He folded his arms. “As for the Rito…well, there is more trouble there than anticipated. Nothing patience cannot solve.” His head tipped down, closer to her. “Not to make any hasty assumptions, but I feel as though this is not what you are interested in discussing.”
“Not…necessarily.” She smirked. “Are you giving my clairvoyance a try?”
“Perhaps I’ve been taking some notes.”
“I see. Well, in that case, and forgive me if I’m mistaken but…we have known each other for some time. I am quite fond of you. And I am to believe you are quite fond of me.”
Rauru nodded slightly and slowly. “Yes, that is true.”
“I mentioned the other night…how the Goddess keeps drawing us together. You remember that, yes?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I suppose you do like a direct conversation. I apologize for avoiding this subject for so long, or merely hinting at it.” She stepped closer, extended a hand towards him. “I am…very fond of you, Rauru. Very fond. And I would like to keep being fond of you, if in a way lovers are.”
“S-Sonia….”
His hand was chilled and foreign in hers, despite how many times she felt his casual touch. She stared at his thin fingers, the golden-copper rings and bands around his forearm, structured to enhance his power. “I understand if our physical differences may seem like a daunting obstacle, but like all else, it’s an obstacle we can quell together.” Her eyes closed as sureness swept over her. “I know the fondness—the love—we feel for one another, transcends any corporeal bounds. Like you’ve said so many times…” Her eyes opened and she tried to meet his, but he was staring at her hand in his. “There is so little difference between us. We are both fragile. We both breathe and bleed.” She locked their fingers together and squeezed. “I’d like to breathe and bleed together. As one.”
Rauru said nothing, which would have had her worrying if his other hand hadn’t tenderly nestled against her cheek, fingers weaving into her hair. “Forgive me,” he said softly, “this is something I’ve wanted for so long…I urged myself to let the dream die. I had convinced myself it wasn’t feasible, especially now, but…”
Sonia leaned into his hand, warming against her skin. “Is that why you never returned to my village?”
“It is, subconsciously, most likely.” His eyes closed again and he leaned in closer. She couldn’t resist the offer to kiss the bridge of his nose again. To sever their hands so she could hold his jaw with both of hers, keep him there in her grasp, her forehead to his.
#they are so dear to me#genwrites#genrambles#legend of zelda#totk#zonai#queen sonia#king rauru#mineru#rauru#rauru x sonia#loz fanfic
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