#it feels good to see them all gathered in one place

[frannyzooey]

Veneration

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Rating: E

a/n: another piece from Ao3 — enjoy! ❤️

—

“Where is she?”

Marcus stalks into his chambers, his white cape billowing behind him, a guard following in his wake.

“I asked for her, sir. I’m not sure where she is. She –”

“Just find her,” he growls, frustration etched on his face.

The guard makes a hasty apology, slipping from the room. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

Candles fill the space, pools of shadows gathered around the edges. The fabric on the bed is rich and decadent, every piece of decoration in the room dripping with luxury.

It’s jarring, after so many months living in a battle tent.

A table filled with food in abundance, he bypasses everything on it for the jar of heady wine. Pouring himself a cup, he drinks deeply.

He thumbs at the slice on his neck, smearing blood on the tips of his fingers. His hands are used to being drenched in blood, crusted with it, the firm hold of a sword nearly molded to the creases of his palm.

It took everything he had not to raise it to the fucking pup who cut him. The one who is so careless and callous, he threatens to burn down everything Marcus has worked for.

All of his protection, wasted. His entire career, played with for sport.

Where is she?

He rips the pin off his tunic, tossing it to the side — he should be more careful with it, but he’s in no mood to be careful with anything. The laurel comes next; the stupid fucking pageantry. He’s a general, a man made of sweat and blood and his fingers tear at the clasps of his armor, but he quickly gives up, pouring another cup of wine. Beautiful and untarnished, the armor is all for show, just like the adornments they covered him with.

It felt good to ride through the city and wave to the people he has been campaigning for months, but he could do without the show of it all. He recognizes the need for celebration, and he’ll gladly give it to them, but he wishes he could do it in his actual armor. The one he defends their city in. The one nicked with a thousand dents from a thousand swords. The leather that fits to his body like a second skin, and he wished for it during the ceremony more than ever, wanting to present himself to the city like the soldier he is.

He sighs, the weight of the day resting heavy on his shoulders. He’d hoped he’d feel more relieved after his conversation with Lucilla, that maybe he’d finally have someone useful he could persuade to act – and yet, the conversation was fruitless.

Frustration throbs behind his eyes, and he closes them, rubbing at his brow.

“You’d think someone who just had a parade held in their honor would look a little less plagued.”

At your voice, his head snaps up. He watches you slip into the room, servant girls on your heels.

He shakes his head, a stern look on his face. “Alone.”

His command is clear, and you obey, dismissing the girls with a slight wave. All for show in the first place, they turn and leave the two of you.

“Where have you been?” he asks. “I’ve been waiting to see you since we entered the gates.”

You walk closer, bending to pick his cape off the floor. “You know I’m not allowed up there with them.” You finger the rich fabric, fighting the urge to bring it to your nose just to inhale his scent.

A scent you’ve missed for almost a year now. A scent that was pressed into your bedding before he left, a scent you used to have memorized from the soft divot just underneath his ear. Oil and sweat and a heady fragrance that clung to his curls and clothes - one you’d been longing for since he left you behind for the promise of North Africa.

“I know,” he answers. “I thought you’d come to see me sooner. Or that I would have seen your face along the route.”

“Would you even have remembered what it looked like?”

It’s childish, the question. You know it, but a barrier comes up automatically, placing protection around your heart. You were so sure of your bond until you saw him climb those steps, taking his place alongside the Emperor. A tiny prick of doubt at the display of his status bled within you, and though you want nothing more than to run to him for reassurance, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“How can you even ask that?” he asks lowly, hurt and frustration buried between his dark brows.

He steps closer, and yet you withhold, standing your ground.

You did see him on the route, hidden in the back of the crowd, watching from underneath the hood of your robe. The second you heard he was approaching the city, anticipation stole the air from your lungs, so strong that you had to stop your chores. A thousand different scenarios of reuniting with him swirled through your mind, all of them abruptly stopped by the remembrance that you couldn’t greet him. Not in public, not where anyone could see. You watched him instead from the depths of the crowd, feeling pride as he rode past.

There, he looked like a shining god. Here, in front of you, he looks older.

Aged in a way that makes him even more handsome, there is new gray along his temples. More, along the curve of his jaw. The candlelight catches strands that mix in with his dark curls, and you take in the wrinkles the line the edges of his eyes, the ones that crease his forehead. The one between his brows was there before he left, only it’s deeper now - something you know has to do with the way you haven’t touched him yet.

“This finery suits you,” you muse, fingering the edge of his armor.

He scoffs, catching your hand in his. Bringing it to his mouth, you watch with rapt attention as his lips mold to your knuckles, one delicate kiss after another.

“I hate it,” he mumbles against your skin.

You smile. “Then let’s remove it.”

–

He’s patient as you help, but barely.

You can feel the tension radiating off his body as you unclasp his armor and lift it off, the heavy leather set to the side. His eyes stay trained on you as you guide his thick tunic upwards, discarding it onto the floor. He stands in his underclothes for a moment before you sink to your knees and undo the tie at his waist, letting them fall as well. Bare now for your eyes, you inspect him from your position, your hands running over his skin.

It’s familiar, yet not: new wounds that have healed, new scars for your touch. He stirs under your exploration, twitching along his thigh, but you don’t give into the touch you know he wants - not yet. You used to spend hours exploring his body: working oil into his tired muscles, memorizing the firm planes of them born in the training yard. He’s just as thick and strong as you remember, maybe even more so now.

Standing, you turn to retrieve a strigil from his bedside table, undoing the clasp of your tunic with one hand with your back facing him. It falls from your shoulders, slipping onto the floor in a puddle of cloth and when you turn to face him, the hunger in his gaze at your nakedness floods you with arousal.

“They bathed me before the parade,” he says dismissively, glancing at the tool in your grip.

You had a ritual before he left: he would summon you to his chambers, and be waiting for you. You’d help him undress, and sometimes you’d bathe him, but sometimes he liked it better this way - your small hands smearing rich oil along his tanned skin, your fingers working it in. The deliberate strokes of the strigil swept along the lines of his muscles, the tool gathering all the grime and the dust and the sweat from the yard. Never enough that it disappeared though. You smelt it on you when you slipped from his chambers later that night, always pressed into your limbs, his seed trickling from between your thighs.

Assuming he wants the same veneration tonight, you’re surprised when his hand flicks out faster than you’re prepared for, his grip relentless on your wrist. It tightens, and he pulls you towards him, your back to his front. The heat of his body is flush with yours, the weight of his cock thick along the curve of your ass.

“How long I’ve waited to have you,” he breathes into your ear, his tone a growl that sends a shiver down your spine. The scruff along his jaw scrapes against your skin, and you melt into him. “Why are you doing this?”

You drop the stirgil on the tiled floor, the sound barely heard over the pounding of your heart. Letting yourself lean against the thick, broad plane of his chest, his hand lets go of your wrist to skate up your side, roughly palming the weight of your breast. He groans when he touches it, a relieved one that blends with your softer moan, and his other hand curls around your front, cupping you firmly between your thighs. His fingers reach for the curve of your entrance, his teeth scraping along your shoulder when he finds you wet. His touch lingers there, his fingers spreading you to find more evidence of your need.

There is a tension that still vibrates from his form behind you, hidden underneath his skin. He’s holding himself back just for you, and though you want nothing more than to put aside your hesitation and your pride, it’s actually easier to do it this way. To encourage him to take, so different than the sweet murmurs you’ve wished for in the night, less vulnerable than the tender touch of his hands.

You want it to hurt, just like you’ve hurt, and you know he also needs this right now.

Your hand rests upon his, sliding it up.

Up, up, up until it circles your throat.

He flexes his grip, his fingers pressing into your pulse that thrums underneath his touch. You give him silent permission — permission to be the one he wants to be with you sometimes.

Permission for him to be rough, like he is in battle.

Permission to take you as he needs to take you.

Tilting your head to the side, you whisper against his scruffed cheek. “I’m yours, General.” The title gives away the game, your slip into character. “Tell me what you want.”

Your words set him alight, his body moving just how it does on the field: in control, precise, power emanating from his stance when he tugs you away from him and pushes you to your knees. He blocks out the light above you, his fingers curling around your chin to pull you closer. Your hands splay on his sturdy thighs to catch your balance, and he steps forward, crowding you.

“Open your mouth.”

An order, like he was born to give.

Dutifully you do, and he wastes no time feeding himself between your warm, wet lips. The thick tip of his cock brushes against your bottom lip, the weight of him smearing across your tongue the deeper he gets. He tastes so good and so familiar, so musky and masculine, and your tongue runs along the underside of his shaft, curving to the skin as he hardens even more. You slide it along every ridge, every vein of his thick cock, and when he pulls back just before pushing himself deeper with a groan, you swirl your tongue around the rounded tip.

Going back for more, you do it again.

Your hands slide up his thighs to his hips, your fingers digging into the skin, and you pull him deeper, encouraging it. He groans loud and shameless, your cunt throbbing when you look up to the light flickering over his skin. It looks so rich and real , your hands slipping backwards to palm the curve of his ass with a greedy grab.

The release of want pours from you both, his body still tight with tension but a different type of tension: not frustration, but need.

He gives in, thrusting into your mouth harder, flickering candlelight catching the drool that gathers around the edges of your mouth and slides down your chin. Your cheeks hollow, his thumb fitting into the indented curve. Your eyes shut tight, his cock pushing against the tight ring of your throat. He holds there for a moment, and then pulls out, his is cock glistening and he strokes it while you catch your breath, but you’re already grabbing for him before you’re ready.

“I want more,” you beg, your voice hoarse. “Take what you need.”

He strokes himself faster, harder, his stomach tensing.

“I know you’re holding back, but don’t. Take anything you want from me. I can take it.”

Those are the words that do it. He growls, his hand palming the back of your head to force you back onto his cock. He pushes it past your lips as far as it will go and then some, not stopping this time when he reaches your throat. He feels the tight, constricting curve of it, and pushes a little further still, thickening at the strangled whine you let out into the dark curls at the base. Swiping the hair from your face, he cups your cheeks in his hands and angles your face to turn up towards his own.

Then, he fucks.

His pace is relentless, brutal, his cock slipping into the tight fist of your throat with every thrust forward. Stars dance along your vision, your chin soaked with spit. Desperation radiates from him, his grip tightening on your face, your fingers digging crescents into his hips and he groans, wanting more pain.

A familiar ache, one that he’s used to. Something to distract him from the deeper pain of your hesitation when you first walked in the room. Deeper still, the ache he felt for you while he was gone.

“You have no idea how much I missed you. How much I missed this.” Every word of his confession is mixed with his heavy breaths, with soft grunts from the back of his throat.

You hum, a tiny frown pulling between your brows. You missed him just as much, missed this just as much — the way he emanates authority, the way he bends and molds and positions you just like his soldiers, to do as he bids.

He pushes you further, shedding the frustration and pent up tension of the day with every harsh stroke. He feeds it to you, makes you swallow it as it pours from him into your waiting mouth and an ache blooms in your throat, your jaw tense with the effort of trying to stay open wide enough for him to fit. Slipping your slim hand between his strong thighs, you cup his heavy balls with a tender squeeze — a touch that makes his head tip back as they draw up.

Harder, faster and then he doesn’t give you any warning before he fists your hair and pulls you off his cock, stroking it with a slick, rapid beat to come on your chest. Your collarbones, the swell of your breasts.

More, when you start to smear it into your skin like oil, pressing it into your skin.

When he’s finished, he sags with release — though you know he’s not done. His hands reach for you, pulling you up off the floor and then finally — finally — he kisses you.

Fevered and desperate, his mouth open to taste yours, his tongue sliding against your own. Your fingers thread through his curls to keep him close, and his own dig forcefully into your skin, as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight. They splay to slide up your back and down again, stretch to cup the curve of your bottom and he lifts you to carry you over to his bed. He means to drop you there so he can sink to his knees, but when you cling to him, he falls with you, his weight settling over your body.

This — this is what you dreamed of every night he was away. This is what you held onto, this is what you missed. This version of Marcus that no one else gets. Not the stoic General, but rather the tender touch of his calloused hands. The slide of his body against yours, the murmurs of his adoration poured along the column of your neck.

Your legs wind around his waist, your hips canting up and he groans into your mouth at the sticky smear you leave on his stomach. More than ready for him, desperate for it.

“My love, I need a minute.”

My love. The endearment fills your heart until tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and you pull him closer, wanting to be buried underneath his bulk. Winding your arms around his neck, you keep his mouth pressed against yours, only to frown when he pulls away.

“I need a minute,” he repeats, his head bending to brush his mouth along your throat. “But let me indulge myself in the meantime.”

You watch the muscles in his thick shoulders shift as he holds himself above you and bends his head, taking your breast into his mouth. It’s a greedy suck, his hand pushing the soft weight of it up so he can fit more. His teeth scrape against the peak, and then he’s moving onto the other one, giving it the same attention while you moan underneath him.

Down further still, he presses kisses along your belly, against each hip. Your thighs open wider, making room for him. A part of you expects him to tease you like you did him, but he doesn’t — he settles in, hooking his arms under your thighs and spreads you wide right before he bends to devour.

Your hands rest upon the top of his head; your own version of a laurel resting on his curls. No adornments, no finery, no pristine armor and gold.

Your eyes close, savoring the slow, wide licks of his tongue. The devotion he gives your cunt with every slick, firm slide.

Not the General that the city fears and adores in equal measure - just Marcus, bending the knee for you.

[linopilled]

⟡ cw: BACKSHOTSSSSS!!! (daddy) chris is very degrade-y, he squishes the reader's face in his big sexy hand, 2 lil cheek slaps, dumbification, crying, drooling, no gendered pronouns but he calls the reader his good girl and i know all of you desire to be chris's good girl... freaks! /j oh yeah and he says slut once sorry!

⟡ a/n: reposting this one first because its a personal fav <3. as always, mdni, and thank you for reading! any & all feedback is welcome. :*

husband!chris, ever so soft, attentive, and doting.

when describing him outside of an intimate setting the only thing you can ever talk about with your girls is how pure and consuming his love is for you. it's a relationship akin to one that feels like sunbathing in a beautiful, massive garden and being hand-fed grapes. but when he's got you in a position so vulnerable, like now, with your wrists clasped together behind your back in his hold, and he's so deep in your guts you feel like you're going to die in his arms, his hot and heavy cock abusing that sweet spot in your messy cunt with no restraint — gentleness is far from his demeanor.

you've been at it for hours. so much so your knees have indented it's place in the mattress, and his brutal pace is making it no better. you're sure you've got carpet burn at this point. your weak sobbing and incoherent wails begin sounding winded, and you struggle to gather air into your chest but he knocks the breath right out of your lungs almost immediately after every gasp you take. “fucking slut.” he sneers. he's in his zone. a usually hidden place chris only goes on special occasions you're in bed with him.

then he utters something. it's so muffled you can only feel the vibration of what he says and you barely make out any syllables.

“ — be the good girl you know you are and moan my name.” you miss the first half of his sentence again, completely zoned out and held prisoner to his thick cock in your cunt. struggling to speak, stammering over weak little whimpers, you manage to get out a small “ch — chris —,” but that's not what he's looking for you to call him.

he grips your cheeks in his palm, squishing them together and suddenly he's tilting your head back to force you to make eye contact. well, if you could even call it that; you can hardly see him through your blurry wet eyes. his thrusts slow and he's pressing all the way inside with a harsh jerk of his hips, balls pressed tightly against your throbbing clit, and you cant help but whine again, body trembling like a leaf. his gaze is pointed and you feel pinned to him, chris’s expression mimicking a scowl he's so focused on getting a response from you. “y’fucking stupid? that's not my name.”

your head is swimming, drool slipping down your chin and you babble wordlessly like some brain-dead toy, hips gyrating pathetically as you're trying your damnedest to get him to just move again.

“stop fucking squirming and listen.” he hisses, using that same palm that's currently holding your face in place, and tapping your cheek twice. enough to get you to focus, but not enough to hurt. he gives you a second sharp thrust as punishment, grip returning to your face. his hold on your cheeks are so tight, it's puckering your cute little lips. “i won't ask you again.”

“d-daddy!” you squeal, and a cocky grin takes it's place on his flushed face, his hips picking up speed.

atta-girl.

[l-starsz]

i walked into billies house. she’d recently moved and i’d been to the new house a few times, but not a lot. as soon as i walked in though, i spotted that window. it was massive, and the perfect place for her to fuck me. although we were only supposed to be friends, i couldn’t help my feelings. i needed her as more than a friend. so bad.

maybe one day it’d happen. i hoped so. i often thought about the things i wished would happen between us. i didn’t think she felt the same though. i was the only one out of us feeling this. so i had to push my feelings away and make sure she didn’t know, or didn’t find out. if she found out it’d ruin everything. she’d leave me. i’d end up with no one.

so although it hurt to hide these feelings when we were in each others arms almost everyday, whether we were watching movies, or going to sleep, we were clinging onto eachother, i couldn’t lose her. when we were out we’d often hold hands and would rarely go anywhere by ourselves. we were very touched with eachother, so it did make it more difficult, but i couldn’t lose her.

we were in her living room, cuddled up together on her sofa and watching a movie. i’d completely lost focus on the movie a while ago though. i was focused on billies hands. one of them was placed on my waist, while the other rested on my upper thigh. we were sprawled out, me in between her legs and my back resting against her. i needed her so bad.

after a little while, she shifted so that both of her hands were on my waist for a bit before she snaked her arms around me, holding me close to her. i leaned my head back a little so it was on her shoulder and i was looking up at her. she immediately looked down and smirked, seeing my pink cheeks.

what i didn’t know then, was that she actually felt the same as i did. and she knew how i felt. i thought id been good at hiding it but to billie it was obvious. she knew everything about me, she knew how to read me like a book, so of course i couldn’t hide this without her finding out. she noticed that i was always a little more shy around her and i was super clingy. and obviously she noticed when i was blushing all the time, even though whenever she’d ask id brush it off as me being warm. that may have been the case sometimes, but a lot of the time it wasn’t for that reason.

the eye contact was almost unbearable, i just wanted to press my lips against hers and finally confess how bad i wanted her. needed her. it was as if she read my mind because one minute she was smirking down at me and the next minute her lips were pressed against mine in a hungry and desperate kiss. this told her how bad i needed her. after a minute, she abruptly pulled away, looking at me with wide eyes.

“i shouldn’t of- i’m sorry-“

before she could finish talking, i turned on her lap and kissed her again, and again, and again.

“it’s okay bil.” i whispered.

she quickly pushed me down on the sofa so she was hovering above me, this led to more kisses, which resulted in us making out. her hands were roaming all over my body whilst mine we’re cupping either side of her face. her fingers soon enough made their way under my pyjama bottoms and into my underwear.

she looked at me for permission. when i nodded i felt them run through my folds, gathering my wetness and spreading it over my clit, rubbing a little before two fingers pushed inside me, slightly stretching me out. she quickly found a steady pace which made me arch my back and press against her.

her fingers were curling in the perfect spot, causing me to whine and moan for her.

“please billie-“

“that’s it angel, use your words. doing so good for me.”

i moaned louder at her words, hands gripping her shirt, pulling her a little closer to me. my legs opened wider as i was getting closer to release.

“billie!” i gasped.

“i can tell how close you are baby. i can feel you clenching around my fingers. you’re so wet for me huh. and so perfect.”

and that’s all it took for me to cum all over her fingers. loud moans echoed through her house as her fingers slowed and she whispered sweet praises into my ear.

“there you go. good girl. so beautiful for me.”

i slightly whimpered and pulled her onto me as soon as she pulled her fingers out of me.

“can you go again for me love? i wanna see you cum again.”

i nodded and let her stand up off the sofa, helping me up with her so that she could take my shirt and bottoms off. she admired how wet my underwear was before pulling them off too. i was pushed back onto the sofa and watched as she stripped in front of me. her body looked so perfect, id never seen someone as beautiful as her. so i told her.

“you look so beautiful fuck. i need you.”

she smirked at me and lifted me up a little, moving me so that i was sat forward a bit. that’s when i noticed something in the boxers she was wearing. they were all she’d left on and i didn’t know how i didn’t see or feel the bulge sooner. when she pulled them down, her strap sprung out and my eyes widened.

“billie i don’t know about that.. it looks too big i’ve never had anything that big in me before.” i quietly spoke.

“you’re wet enough for it. i think you’ll be able to take it. if you really don’t want to though then we don’t have to and we can either try something else or stop and i’ll get you cleaned up baby.”

“i want to try it bil. please.” i was so needy at that point.

that was all she needed to hear for her to carefully push the tip inside me, letting me get used to it before slowly pushing it in bit by bit. she soon enough had the whole length inside me and just stayed like that until i told her she could move. once she began moving, the loudest moans toppled out of my mouth no matter how silent i tried to stay.

as she was thrusting deep into me, her hands were running up my stomach, all the way up until they were resting on my tits. she gave them a small squeeze and then moved back to hold onto my waist.

“you look so gorgeous like this. such a mess for me yet you’re still taking me so well.” she whispered, that small smirk still showing.

my walls tightened around her, hands gripping her arms. she could feel how tight i was as it was a slight bit more difficult to push inside me.

“can i cum billie?” i whined loud, trying to hold onto the feeling.

“cum for me angel.”

i definitely moaned way too loud when i heard those words and came everywhere. i was practically screaming for her as she slowed her thrusts and ran her hands up and down my stomach to calm me down. she stayed inside of me whilst i settled down, she waited until i was ready.

when she eventually pulled out, i felt her placing gentle kisses on my lips and whispering in between them.

“one more for me baby. can you go once more for me? then if you want we can have a nice warm bath and i’ll get you all cleaned up.”

i nodded and kissed her again. i needed her all over me. she dragged me to stand up off the sofa and moved me over to the window. that window i wanted her to push me against.

“i know you wanted this. seen the way you stare at it when you come in and then you get lost in your own world daydreaming about me huh?”

i nodded and felt her gently push me forward so that my tits we’re pressed against the glass and my back was slightly arched. within a few seconds, she was kneeled on the floor, eating me out as if she’d never get to do this again.

my breath fogged the glass while i whined and bucked my hips against her mouth. i really didn’t last long. within a few minutes, i came all over her face and slid down the window a little until she moved away and i collapsed on the floor. soon enough, she crouched down and turned me around in her arms.

“there you go love, you did really well for me. you’ve made me really proud.” she smiled, lifting me into her arms and carrying me up to her room and laying me on the bed whilst she ran a bath for me and got some fresh clothes out.

i was almost asleep when she moved my hair from my face then took me to the bathroom, carefully placing me in the bath and kissing the top of my head.

“can you get in with me please?” i mumbled, half asleep.

“of course.” she slowly got in behind me and began to wash my hair for me and helped me wash the rest of my body before we just rested there for a bit. i ended up falling asleep against her at one point. what felt like a few seconds later, i was being gently lifted out of the bath and was placed back on the bed with a fluffy towel wrapped around me.

i groaned and opened my eyes, causing her to look over at me as she finished putting some clothes on.

“hey angel. let’s get some clothes on you and then we can sleep, okay?”

i just nodded and got myself dressed before we clambered into her bed and were soon enough asleep next to eachother.

[pankowperfection]

Good Intentions

reposting because Tumblr doesn't like the old link

GIF by normatural

Summary: JJ keeps watch over you at a party, but decides he can't stay away anymore

Warnings: smut, mentions of drinking, mentions of drug use, oral (fem receiving), 18+

Being John B's younger sister meant inheriting the other pogues as family, regardless of whether you wanted them or not. They were basically siblings you'd never asked for, so while everyone was polite when you were all together, you weren't particularly close with any of them. Unfortunately, John B always dragged you out with them so you weren't just sitting at home alone and tonight that had meant going to a kook party on Figure 8, the very last place you wanted to be.

You had stressed about what to wear, in the end opting for a pair of ripped jeans and a lacy black tank top that showed a little bit of under boob. Strappy sandals on your feet you headed to the kitchen, finding JJ and John B gathering beer to take to the party. "Are you guys almost ready?" JJ turned around at the sound of your voice, looking you over head to toe. You missed the way his eyes darkened at the sight of your exposed breasts, how he swallowed thickly before looking away. "Yes y/n, chill. Just gathering supplies. Let's go." You follow the group outside, piling into the Twinkie and praying the night goes smoothly.

Of course as soon as you arrived at the party, everyone split off into different directions, leaving you alone. John B had gone to search for Sarah, Kie and Pope settling into a deep conversation about environmental changes needed to protect the beaches. JJ headed out to the back patio overlooking the beach, searching for a quiet spot to roll a joint. Wanting to look like you belonged you wandered into the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink into the red plastic cup before making your way back to the main part of the party. Unbeknownst to you, JJ had come back inside, positioning himself in the corner of the room to keep watch over you as John B had instructed.

He'd always been secretly attracted to you, never making a move because he didn't want to be the guy to go after his best friend's younger sister. He had spent many hours admiring you from a distance, wanting to be the one to make you laugh on a bad day. Countless nights he had laid wide awake in bed, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your bare skin beneath his fingers. How did you taste? What would it sound like for you to moan his name? The thought of anyone else touching you, getting to see you in that way, made JJ see red.

Over the next few hours, several guys approached you and tried to get you to dance. Each time you turned them away, getting more frustrated with each pursuit. The final straw was when none other than Rafe Cameron had stalked up silently behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you back against him. You let out a gasp, spinning around in his arms quickly and attempting to shove him away. "Rafe, get off of me." He smirked down at you, leaning in closer. "Shh, relax sweetheart. I just want a quick taste. Let me show you a good time." Without further thought you threw your drink into his face, leaving him fuming before stalking off to grab another.

Suddenly you were pulled into the hallway, a familiar large frame caging you in against the wall. "JJ, what are you doing?" He sighs, letting his hand trail down your face before tucking your hair behind your ear. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Seems like you haven't had a moment of peace all night, all these dumb kooks treating you like a piece of meat." You look up into his blue eyes, something different in them that you haven't seen before that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. "I'm fine J. Why do you care anyways? I know John B asked you to look out for me, but I can take care of myself." He smiles, dimples on display making your heart beat faster. "Oh I know, I saw that for myself. You look so hot, even hotter when you threw that drink in Cameron's face. Sexiest thing I've ever seen."

He leans closer, hands on either side of your face, close enough you can feel his breath on your lips. "JJ...." His lips are on yours in an instant, soft at first, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. When you let a moan slip and tangle your hands into his hair he loses all restraint, pressing his body into yours as his tongue plunges into your mouth. His hands are everywhere, caressing softly over your breasts and bringing your nipples to hard peaks before traveling further south, ghosting over the front of your jeans and making your panties soaked. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your core, grabbing onto his ass to pull him closer still causing him to groan into your mouth. You pull apart breathless, chests heaving and heat flooding through your system. "Take me home J, please." He nods, making some kind of excuse to John B about you not feeling well and letting him know he was taking you home.

The ride back to the Chateau is quiet, air thick with sexual tension. You barely make it over the threshold into the house before he is on you again, picking you up and carrying you to the spare bedroom he calls his own. He sits down on the bed with you straddling his lap, hands kneading the flesh of your ass as you grind down over his length. You pull his head back, exposing his neck as you kiss and suck over every inch of exposed skin. "Shit y/n. We shouldn't do this, your John B's sister." You push him down onto the bed, rocking over length again in slow, deliberate motions that cause him to moan again. "Tell me you want me to stop J and I will." You continue, friction of your jeans rubbing your clit perfectly as you start to pick up speed. "Fuck,” he groans, flipping you over quickly and trapping your hands over your head.

"You're sure this is what you want? Cause once I start, I won't be able to stop." He searches your face for any sign of discomfort, wanting to be certain that you really do want to cross this line. "I want you JJ. Please, please make me feel good." With that he helps you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and taking in the sight of your naked breasts. "God, you're so perfect," he coos, leaning down to take your left nipple into his mouth. You weave your fingers into his hair, holding his face close as he lavishes your sensitive bud with his tongue. He kisses his way to your right breast, repeating the same actions as his hand pops the button on your jeans. He pulls the zipper down slowly, connecting his lips to your neck as his fingers dive under the material of your panties. When you feel the coolness of his ring touch your overheated skin you moan, hips bucking up into his touch. "Mmm JJ, feels so good." He takes his time, teasing two fingers up and down through your folds, lightly grazing your clit with each pass. "So wet for me sweetheart, bet you taste so good."

His hot, greedy mouth kisses down your body, pausing long enough to remove the rest of your clothes before settling between your thighs. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." His breath tickles your pussy, eyes threatening to roll at what is about to happen. "J please, need you so bad." With that he dives in, devouring you with such ferocity you swear you might pass out from the overwhelming pleasure. Your nails rake into his scalp and he moans, vibrations making your thighs tremble. Two fingers tease around your entrance before he plunges them inside, curling them just right so his ring massages your walls. "Fuck J, don't stop." He increases his pace, fucking you with his fingers while his talented tongue worships your clit. "Come on sweetheart, cum for me." His soft command does you in, body trembling as you grind against his face while you ride out your orgasm.

The sight of your release shining on his chin as he comes up to kiss you makes you feral, pushing him onto his back again before hovering over his length. "Easy sweetheart," his abs tense beneath your touch, struggling to not show how excited he is at the thought of you riding him. "Is this okay? Can I ride you?" His eyes roll back at your words, moan leaving his plump lips that tells you all you need to know. You line him up before starting to slowly sink down, his thick length stretching you in a way no one has. "God, you're so big." You finally bottom out, taking a moment to breathe and adjust to how deep he is inside of you. "Y/n, fuck. Need you to move, squeezing me so fucking tight."

His hands grab your hips, guiding your motions as you start to bounce up and down on his length. His fingers dig into your hips, grip bruising but you just don't care. Suddenly he lands a soft smack to your ass making you gasp and clench around him. "Oh god," he groans, bucking up into you to meet your thrusts. Before you can realize what happened he has you on your back, legs over his shoulders as he plows back into you. You let out a whimper, nails digging into his back as he starts to thrust hard and fast.

"You feel so good, don't want to ever stop." He pins your hands over your head again, laying down on top of you and sucking bruises into your neck. The new angle feels amazing, each thrust stimulating your clit. "Yes J, just like that. I'm gonna cum again." He somehow speeds up, rocking into you faster. When he bites the sensitive spot on your neck your orgasm washes over, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as you moan out his name. "Shit princess, gonna fill you up." A few thrusts later he stills, warm release coating your walls as he comes to a halt.

Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist

[neostellarjpg]

inner mono-dialogue

the more time i spend being davepeta with you the more i realize almost every single problem in my life was caused by my obsession with being this unfeeling cool dude

but youre cool already

like in the way that actually matters

youre chill and friendly and just nice and thats all there is to it

youre shamelessly yourself even if everybody around you is a jackass and gives you shit for it

youre similar to jade and john in that way

i really envied that about them

but its different actually being at the control panel and feeling where that earnesty comes from

it makes me wanna match your energy and keep that pawsitivity ball rolling even if it ends up being weird or cringe or whatever

fuck man do you know how exhausting it is building yourself social hoops to leap through all the time and when you trip up even once its suddenly the end of the world

what kinda dumbass does that its like dealing with life in hard mode for no reward

fuck that noise

i like your way better

Nepeta's heart burns and shines inside you.

:33 < thank you :))

:33 < but you know

:33 < i dont think doing things your way is unrewarding

:33 < its like

:33 < a shield!

Dave scrunches up with discomfort.

X33 < i dont mean that in an insulting way!

:33 < the fact is that shields are just purractical sometimes

:33 < it doesnt make you cowardly to hide behind one

:33 < in the same way that it isnt cowardly for a predator to hide in the bushes when stalking prey

:33 < its just a way to make sure you dont get hurt!

:33 < purrsonally i found shields too cumbersome

X33 < im a hunter after all!

:33 < and i guess maybe the same goes for my personality

:33 < its not really that im purrticularly brave for being myself

:33 < i just didnt have a say in the matter in the furst place!

:33 < honestly if i had a choice i would have loved to be more like you dave

:33 < you can befriend people almost effortlessly

:33 < and its beclaws youre also just a nice person

Dave recoils in surprise, but Nepeta passionately pushes forward.

:33 < fur real! i f33l it inside you! theres a really strong sense of empathy there

:33 < its just like mine! just smarter, and a bit more analytical

:33 < whenever we encounter someone mew, its like i f33l you lock onto them, and you gather so many insights into their purrsonality without even trying

:33 < and you can use that to bond with others without giving every part of you away

:33 < which unfortunately

:(( < i never really knew how to do

Nepeta sours with unpleasant feelings. Your brows scrunch together with both pain and sympathy.

Nepeta has a big and complex heart. She tried her best to keep it from spilling over, but it always did in the end. And it was embarrassing. It was embarrassing when your friends dismissed your hobbies or focused in on your strange quirks. It was embarrassing when they revealed they knew about your crush on Karkat that you'd worked so hard to hide. And it hurt whenever he would say mean things about you. He and anyone else.

But you always puffed out your chest and sucked it up. You stuck to your guns no matter what. Because it was fun! The things you liked, the people you liked, were fun, and they made you feel good. Why couldn't anyone else see that? And why did it seem like they never gave a single thought to who you were?

You curl in on yourself. Your chest hurts. You suddenly really miss Equius.

And you miss Rose. You miss Jade. You miss John and Karkat and Aradia and Tavros and Terezi and all the others. You miss all the people you can go outside and see whenever you wish, and you miss all the people that you have no hope of ever seeing again. You feel the choral echo of all the times you've ever felt this need for comfort, this thrumming pain searing hot inside you, like hunger wracking your stomach.

You clench your teeth. You remember being on your bed, curled in blankets, not having eaten a proper meal in days. You remember holding your stomach and sneaking to the kitchen, turning your shoulder at every step to look fearfully behind you, only for your fingers to falter hopelessly on the handle of the refrigerator, knowing there was nothing for you inside.

You shake with anger. You know that feeling. The feeling of being chased by something much bigger than you, a hulking silhouette of menacing strength following your scent through the thicket. You'd clutched a beast carcass to your chest, barely breathing as you stalked clumsily through the trees, performance wavering from exhaustion and hunger.

You'd almost died. You'd almost died often. And then after escaping death so many times, it one day claimed you. Casually. Unflinchingly. And the world beat on without you, leaving you stunned by your own insignificance. You'd looked out onto every preceding moment of your life, wondering if there was anything to truly be proud of in the face of your friends accomplishing all these fantastical things. You'd felt lonely before, but after that, you were truly walled off from every single person you knew.

And now, despite everything, you're alive again. Twofold, together with someone.

A warmth coats the ache inside your body. The two parts of you swirl together, feeling and tasting each other, trying to understand themselves.

It feels like a hug.

[pityroadart]

Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)

Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take aren’t being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bones’ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, it’s Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating… and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware they’re both dating the same man, there’s only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.

Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) — partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.

Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!

Until the Birds Return on Spotify

Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):

Astronaut | Future Crib

I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me

Afraid of Heights | boygenius

I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death

Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade

Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets

... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart

Factories | Autoheart

When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive

You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy

Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend

My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside

My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water

Santa Fe | Autoheart

Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad

Coat on a Hook | The National

Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me

Top to Toe | Fenne Lily

So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right

Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf

Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone

Hornets | The National

But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight

Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!

If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it

The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost

We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too

Bike Dream | Rostam

Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed

Don't Go | Yazoo

Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go

Jenny | The Mountain Goats

I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest

Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)

Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/26

To lighten the daily read load but still ensure I get to everyone, i will be reading on 1 Riize member daily, and Seunghan every other day or just if something with him shifts significantly. I will do Riize collective reads every other day that I'm not doing a Seunghan Read. So today it is Seunghan + Sohee and then an SM read i found in my asks. Tmw it will be Riize collective + Any other member + something relevant to current topics or asks. Hope that makes sense.

Seunghan

Knight of Chalices + King of Wands + 6 of Wands

Honestly bro is just chilling right now...lowkey this is his card when he is at his most neutral/leaning positive state. Very charming very vibey. He seems to be cheeky lately. He is doing well. I asked about how he felt about Rolling Loud in Thailand, and he responded with the King right there. He's feeling very very high up about the ordeal. Rather than being the King, he sees Briize as the King, and him gathering his graces and motivation to push gorwards simply by watching. There are a lot of fond and just overall respectful and "in awe" emotions attached here. To the point where he may wonder if it is overbearing for others (cough OT6 cough) leading me to believe he may have seen their distainful reactions. Nonetheless it wasn't enough to erase his positive feelings on the matter. He really feels like he should bow down in gratitude lmfao.

When I had asked if he had contacted members recently i got the 6 of Wands, which is a yes signally a positive and celebratory? Chat. Therefore, it is probably around or on Taro's birthday they spoke.

One thing of note that I and maybe many have noticed is that Taro seems the most standoffish out of all the members regarding this entire situation from the start. This is true-ish deep down. I pulled another card to clarify the 6 of wands, which made everything I already knew click into place for me- but I accidentally reshuffled it in my deck and I do not remember exactly what card it was- but I know it fully cleared this up for me so I will share the explaination I came to here:

Taro doesn't really know how to deal with negative situations. At all. He acts as if they do not exist unless he must face them. He is not good with them. He will spiral out of control and doesn't know how to work through those things properly, so he believes the most mature thing is to not engage to begin with. Therefore, it was very awkward for him to try and contact Seunghan directly. He does not know what to say. He has been avoiding it even if he also believes he was wronged and is still OT7. He is the most awkward member about this. I do believe that Seunghan mayhaps reached out during his birthday, and this relationship is starting to mend again. Wanted to share bc this makes me sad and happy.

Sohee

The World + 6 of Chalices + 2 of Pentacles

Sohee is generally feeling really good, maybe like something has been completed to an extent sucessfully. I think, tbh that he is glad to be home lmfao, but he really enjoyed the adventure. That sort of feeling. Since people were asking, I decided to ask if he had really smiled and nodded at the Riize is 7 banners at Rolling Loud, to which I pulled 6 of Chalices. This is a yes, it made him think of some other memories- so since that is the case I really think he may be referring to Madrid, which is funny bc Briize were saying he was grinning just like he did back then!

I then asked him how he thought things were progressing for Seunghan's return, to which I got 2 of Pentacles. Things are still being prepared and there's not a clear answer at the moment. This question led me into the next few things we will discuss regarding SM.

SM

Knight of Pentacles + 8 of Swords + Knight of Wands + Queen of Wands

Generally, there is a lot of turmoil here. Careful planning and preparation, but its almost like one team is like "let's do this now, this is stupid and we need to act now" and the other is like "why do we have to do that? I don't wanna". One side wants to do as they have always done, and the other side is younger and more open-minded, wanting to avoid disaster due to refusal to adapt. The older side sees this as reckless, the younger side sees the older as lazy and slow. It is very tough, and they are at odds. I will come back to this energy a bit later.

8 of Wands + 2 of Chalices + 10 of Wands

Someone asked if SM was making a decision regarding Seunghan this week. Pulled 8 of Wands and 2 of Chalices. Yes?? I think they 100% have the intention to do so. But with the 10 of wands as the outcome I think that whatever outcome it is it will be while before it is released, and whatever it is will be due to a lot of pressure being put on SM. So I advise that OT7 really make sure to keep laying it on as thick as possible as this will affect the outcome.

Bottom of Deck:

8 of Chalices + 5 of Wands

The theme here is still a lot of conflict. One side will need to grow mature enough to give up their stance. Whoever gives in first wins.

Final Notes:

Mainly, what I wanna speak on is the energy SM is feeling right now. I made a transit reading when Pluto went into Aquarius that discussed what tf is going on with SM lately and what will be going on for the next few years. I will link it HERE (for twt users, i will link in the twt)

Other than that, again, keep spreading the truth and laying on the pressure here. We are approaching a kind of finale situation rather soon. Or at least some news regarding such. Note that even if we win, we may not KNOW right away. We may not know 100% until closer to a CB. I hope not, but it's certainly possible. So please keep doing what you're doing, and do not give in!!

[qu0thther4ven]

Shifting Success ♡

Last night before going to bed I did a meditation on youtube and felt pretty good about it. I had tried it once the night before and it gave me crazy dreams which I associate positively with shifting. Last night I had another crazy dream. At some point during the dream I became lucid, however because the dream was so scary I didn't want to try to shift through it so I just woke up instead.

Scary dreams tend to stay in my mind, but lucid dreams always make me feel really powerful so after lucid dreaming I decided I would shift. I was sort of half asleep at the time but felt very confident that I could do it, so I just decided I would, said so, and went back to sleep.

The bad thing is that I didn't really decide where I wanted to shift to and instead because I had been thinking about that bizzare dream I had just before I wound up becoming aware of this strange reality that was like sort of related to the dream that I had just had.

Because I had lucid dreamt just before shifting I can say with complete certainty that they are entirely different things. They felt so so different, my dreams can get pretty realistic too but it's not like actual living. However shifting very much is actually living. It was such an odd experience honestly.

I woke up and I knew that I was like actually awake and not just in a dream again. I was in a bedroom that I knew distinctly was mine but was nothing like my cr room. Two of my siblings were in the room and they were the same age as me which was super weird since in my cr we are all pretty scattered age wise.

Some of the things that really confirmed it for me were my memories, comfort, and perspective. When I looked around the room I remembered random things about the items in there just like I would in my cr. The best example was when I was talking to my siblings and gathering clothes to change out of my pajamas and I distinctly remember looking through the underwear drawer of all places and looking for one of those pairs with like the day of the week on it of all things.

The fact that I not only knew that I had those without ever seeing them but also that while I was looking my mind wandered to a memory of when I went shopping with my friends and we all thought it would be funny to buy those and so we did. My mind wandering like that is something that happens to me a lot in my cr but never in my dreams.

Another thing that really struck me was the perspective. Real life as we know it is lived through first person on a day to day basis. Often in my dreams the perspective will shift rather like a tv show or movie. I can't remember a dream that I have ever had, lucid or not, where the perspective didn't shift or things didn't distort oddly. But that didn't happen to me at all, it was all real and tangible and first person the whole time.

Anyway this is getting way too long but I hope it's helped someone. After almost five years of trying (i know crazy right) I have shifted. Was it to where I wanted? no. Did I decide to come back as soon as I recognized what was going on cause I got scared? yes! but I still did it. And now I know that I am capable, and that's all I really need.

[cameronsprincess]

hey love 😘 I’d like to request hot coco movie with jj based on this link 💦 a blindfold smut pls 🤭

hehehe i’ve been excited about this one😫 we’re going sub!jj all the waaay😮‍💨🤞🏻

CW: smut! 18+ only! sub!jj, dom!reader, mommy kink, edging, handjob, tit fucking, praise.

5k moodboard/blurbs m.list

“mommy… please?” jj whimpers, his hips bucking up as you continue to run your spit soaked hand up and down his throbbing length.

you chuckle, halting your movments and removing yourself from between his legs. you pull open the nightstand drawer, pulling out a silk black blindfold, climbing back into the bed and placing it over jj’s eyes. his body jerks, “what’re you doing..?” he rasps, trying to jerk his head to the side.

dropping the blindfold on his chest, you grip his cheeks between your fingers, forcing his eyes on yours.

“now j, stop fighting, it’s just a blindfold..” you loosen your grip on his face, softly running the back of your hand down his cheek and to his neck. “you trust me, don’t you?”

he slowly nods his head, his muscles relaxing as he breathes in deep, letting it out slowly.

“‘course i trust you mama, i just.. i just wanna see your pretty face.”

you let out a small “aww” before grabbing the blindfold again, placing it over his eyes. he lifts his head off the pillow, allowing you to tie it in the back before helping him lay back into the pillows again.

“i know baby, but this’ll be so much more fun. you’re giving me so much control over you, don’t you wanna be a good boy and make me happy?”

he sighs, “y-yes.. always wanna make you happy mommy.”

you grin, patting his cheek with your hand before sliding back down his body. you situate yourself between his spread thighs, gathering saliva in your mouth before spitting into your palm. you softly wrap your hand around his swollen tip, squeezing lightly before circling your hand around it, running it slowly down his length and back up again.

jj groans, his head thrashing side to side as his chest begins to heave, shaky breaths falling past his kiss swollen lips.

“oh fuck… i-i need to cum.. please?” jj begs, his breaths coming out choppy.

you click your tongue, shaking your head even though he can’t see it. “not until i say, can you do that for me, j? be a good boy and hold it, don’t cum until mommy says you can.”

a whine escapes jj’s lips, his thick cock jerking in your hand. you watch as his balls draw tight, his release about to bust from him, but you stop before it can. jj whines, “fuck! why do you keep stopping? i need to cum, baby.”

you tsk, pulling your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. you quickly unhook your bra, letting it slide off your chest and onto the bed.

“j, just trust me okay? have i ever let you down?”

jj breathes out, his cheeks puffing out from the action. “no.. no you haven’t.”

“exactly, trust me, if you’re a good boy, and just trust me…” you pause, gathering more saliva in your mouth and spitting down onto your breasts that you have squished together. “i promise you’ll cum harder than you ever have before.”

jj groans, but ultimately nods his head, allowing you to take care of him.

you lower your body, gripping his cock in one of your hands, slowly pumping his length before slipping it between your breasts. jj hisses in a breath, his body already so on edge and begging for release. “fuck… that.. oh, god, that feels so fucking good mommy.” he whimpers, his bottom lip between his teeth.

you grin, loving the look of pain and pleasure etched into his features. you imagine his eyes are filled with unshed tears, the frustration of being edged until hot tears slide down his perfect face.

jj thrusts his hips up, sliding his cock in and out of your breasts. you push them together more, making them squeeze and tighten around his aching dick. “that’s it, j. fuck my tits, make yourself cum all over my chest and face.. you can do it, such a good boy.”

he whines, his hips bucking faster, his slick, swollen cock gliding between your tits with ease. you watch as his cock twitches, his balls drawing up tight before he lets out a low groan. long, thick spurts of cum shoot from his tip, his legs shaking, thighs tense as he paints your chest and lips white with his seed.

“goddamn… i.. fuck!” jj groans, his body falling limp on the bed, spent and milked dry.

you slowly lift the blindfold from jj’s eyes, smiling down at him once his bright blue eyes find yours. he watches as you drag a finger through the cum that coats your chest, bringing up to your lips and sucking it clean, repeating your actions until you’ve cleaned every last drop of his cum off your chest.

“did so good for me, jj. i love you.”

tagging some moots: @rafesthroatbaby @starkeysbabygirl @rafeyscurtainbangs @starkeysprincess @oceandriveab @pankowperfection @jjsbaby @nemesyaaa @maybankslover @moremaybank @starkeyisthelastname @rafesangelita @cherrygirlfriend @kiiyomei

[usomads]

Don't Knock It 'Til You Try It // Jimmy Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> I’m back! Took me a minute to find the right way I wanted this to play out but we finally figured it out 😂 happy reading!

Plot -> Tensions between you and your roommate reach an all-time high, and the both of you decide to act.

Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Daddy Kink, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Hickies, Spanking, Restraints, Hair Pulling, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.1k

Fuck, I needed this. The warm water of the shower you were under cascaded down your body as all the tension sitting in your muscles from the day faded as it went down the drain. You were finally able to unwind, taking a moment to allow the stress to escape you and relax your mind. You stood under the water for a moment relishing in the serenity you were feeling, turning the faucet off just before the water turned cold and wrapping a bath towel around your body and tucking it in to hold in place. You added leave-in conditioner and brushed the product into your damp hair before securing it in a bun with a clip and stepping into your room to change. You grabbed a pair of shorts and a baggy cropped tee, not bothering to put on a bra. It’s not like you had anyone to impress, the only plans for this evening were your friends Bianca and Jade coming over for dinner so you didn’t feel *that* obligated to dress up tonight. 

You made your way to the kitchen to start prepping dinner and was startled to see Jonathan, your roommate, sitting at the island in your kitchen scrolling on his phone. 

“Shit, you scared me!” You sighed. “I didn’t know you were here tonight, I thought you’d be out and about so I invited Bianca and Jade over… I hope that’s okay.”

He looks up at you through his eyebrows and gives you a soft smile, “Oh, hey, yeah was ‘posed to but canceled plans. Felt like stayin’ in tonight.” Jon lifted himself from his slouched position and raked his eyes down your body, forcing you to try to hide the blush that was spreading across your cheeks. “Don’t worry ‘bout me though, y’all enjoy yourselves. I’ll stay outta the way.”

“No, no, that’s okay! You’re more than welcome to hang out with us for the night if you want,” you smiled.

“And talk a bunch of girly shit? I’m good,” he chuckled. You giggled then turned to gather the ingredients for dinner tonight, responding as you grabbed things from the fridge.

“Oh, c’mon, we’re not that bad, I promise!” You shut the fridge and opened the cabinet to get all the seasonings you needed, trying to reach them from the highest shelf in the upper cabinet but your smaller frame failed you. You were standing on your tiptoes, stretching your arm as much as you could but still not quite getting a fingertip on them. You were even trying to jump a bit to get ahold of them to no avail. In your attempts to reach for them your cropped top you were wearing had ridden up, revealing to Jon that you were indeed not wearing a bra and exposing the lower part of your breasts. His eyes widened watching as they moved from you reaching and jumping, the shirt you were wearing teasing to ride up and expose them to him fully. After a moment of watching in silence, he snapped out of his trance and got up from his seat at the island and was bold enough to walk behind you. Your back was flush with his chest as he placed one hand on the counter next to you, trapping you against the counter as he reached the spices in the cabinet with ease and placed them in front of you. You felt his front brush your ass and your breath hitched in your throat, leaving you frozen in place. He leaned down to your ear as his body held you against the counter. “We’ll see, mamas.” Your eyes fluttered shut at the huskiness in his voice, sending goosebumps over your skin and an aching heat to your core. You felt his eyes burning through you, watching your reaction to him before removing his hand from the countertop and walking back to his room- your head spinning as you tried to collect yourself.

“Y/N, please be serious, you don’t find any of this hot?” You, Jade, and Bianca were sitting on your couch, wine glasses in hand as the three of you were talking about the movie playing on your TV. The two characters were in the middle of a steamy sex scene, a depiction of dominance, roughness, and pure unadulterated lust dancing across the TV screen. “No! That’s not what I’m saying at all,” you defended, “I’m saying it’s so unrealistic…”

“Unrealistic?! Girl, what kind of sex you havin’? This is child’s play, like spanking, hair pulling, all that is pretty tame stuff honestly…”

The three of you didn't notice Jon emerging from his room to get water from the fridge, him slowing his steps as he overheard the conversation you were having. His curiosity had gotten the best of him; he wanted, no, needed to hear what you had to say.

“No it isn’t,” you paused, “no one I’ve been with has done shit like this with me. We just, I don’t know, have normal sex? Like, none of the extra stuff…” you brought the wine glass to your lips as you trailed off.

“Extra? Oh my god, Y/N…” Bianca sighed, rubbing her temples, “it’s necessary. Jesus, you gotta get with a guy that does all this for you, I promise you’ll never wanna go back to all that vanilla shit.” Bianca turned her head, noticing Jon getting his glass of water. “Oh, hey, Jon! How are you?” You choked on the wine you were drinking, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Fuck, how much of that did he hear?

“‘M’good, just chillin’ for the night,” he responded, watching you as he spoke. 

“What’s your take on all this?” Jade questioned him, “Do you agree, or is all this ‘extra’ or ‘unrealistic’ like Y/N seems to think?” You lightly hit her arm, trying to not drag him into this but it didn’t work.

“I mean, ion think it’s extra. In my experience, it makes it better,” he looked directly at you as he spoke, “You never know until you try it.” You looked down at your thighs trying to break the tension that came with his eye contact, but you found yourself being drawn to his gaze. “See, Y/N, even he agrees. You gotta live a little, sweetheart.” Jon chuckled at Bianca’s response, keeping eye contact as he walked slowly back to his room; releasing a heavy breath when he disappeared into the hallway. You didn’t know what was happening tonight, between the scene in the kitchen earlier and just now you were in a haze. Your body was responding to him in ways it had never done before, and you kind of liked it. Your imagination got the best of you as the three of you turned your attention to the movie once more, putting yourself in the shoes of the female character on screen. You wondered how you would feel if a man did these things to you, but more specifically, if it was Jon.

You three finished the movie after another hour, your two friends deciding it was time to head home for the night. You shared your goodbyes and walked them to the door, and you were now cleaning up the food and dishes that were left behind. Jon walked into the kitchen as you were washing the dishes, leaning against the countertop next to you.

“Y’all have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it was good to spend time with them. We don’t get to do that much anymore…” you trailed off, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. “You know, you could’ve come and hung out with us too. I know you caught that last little bit but I promise we weren’t talking about anything, um, crazy all night.” You became flustered, the memory of him overhearing about your vanilla sex life replaying in your head yet again. “You’re fine, there was nothin’ crazy about it,” you put the last dish you washed on the drying rack and turned to him as he spoke, “if anything I learned more about you tonight.”

“Like what?” You replied nervously, your voice shaking. He got up from the counter he leaned on and stepped in front of you, leaving little space between you. Your breathing stopped as you looked up at him, anxious for the words that were about to come from his mouth. 

“That you ain’t been fucked right.” You swallowed hard as his eyes deepened with lust, motionless where you stood. “But I know how to fix that.”

“H-how?” You stuttered, backing up against the counter as he walked towards you.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice earlier when you was reachin’ in the cabinet,” he played with the hem of your shirt, his fingers dangerously close to the skin of your bare breasts underneath. “Wearing this little ass shirt with nothin’ underneath, you thought I wouldn’t peep that?” You looked at your feet but his finger found its way under your chin and lifted your head to look at him as he continued. “Or how your body reacted when I came up behind you and helped you out? I know you felt that,” he watched you shiver under his touch, “and I’m willin’ to bet that if I put my hand right here…” his fingers danced along the skin of your exposed abdomen and traveled downward to where you wanted him most, “I’d find out you’re drippin’ f’me. Would I be right on that, sweetheart?”

“I-” You were cut off by his hand sliding into your shorts, his fingers tracing your folds. He groaned, proving to be right as his fingers were now covered in your wetness.

“Did I do this, baby girl?” You moaned softly in response.

“P-please…”

“Use your words, Y/N, please what?”

“I-”

“You were thinkin’ about me during that movie, wasn’t you? You want me to fuck you like they do in the movies, don’t you baby?” You bucked your hips at his words, desperate for more.

“Tell me what you want, princess. Daddy’s gonna give it to you, you just gotta tell me.” You moaned at the name he used and he smirked, loving how responsive you were to him by his words and a small touch. 

“Y-you,” you breathed out, “I want you.”

He growled, crashing his lips into yours and grinding his hips into your front. You could feel his hard cock rub you through your clothes and you moaned in his mouth, allowing him to take over as he kissed you with urgency. He lifted you off your feet as he continued to kiss you, carrying you down the hallway and to his room. He threw you onto his bed, making you gasp as your back made contact with the mattress, and climbed on top of you. He removed your shirt, your nipples hardening at the cool air as he took you in and moaned.

“Fuck, Y/N, so fuckin’ perfect. Been dyin’ to get my hands on you, baby girl.” He connected his lips to your neck, sucking hard on the skin and making you throw your head back in the process. He assaulted the sensitive area with his mouth and teeth, creating purple-ish marks before sitting up and admiring his work. He got up from the bed as you sat up, a look of confusion coming across your face as he went to his dresser and pulled out a shiny object. Handcuffs. He crawled back onto you and wrapped the metal locks around your wrists and restraining you to the headboard. 

“Be good and hold still f’me, move a muscle and I punish you. Understand?”

“Y-yes..”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, d-daddy.” 

“Good girl.” 

His hands found the waistband of your shorts and pulled both the shorts and the panties underneath in one motion, making you wince as the cold air made contact with your pussy. His tongue poked out as he licked his lips at the sight of your pussy glistening before him, clit swollen as he looked up with hooded eyes. 

“Such a mess… and all f’me,” he mumbled, diving headfirst into your aching folds. The warmth of his tongue glided through your folds, forcing you to suck in a breath and bite your lip in the process. Your body fought itself to stay still for him, aching to touch him. His beard rubs against the inside of your thighs as his tongue laps at your core, making you jolt in pleasure. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to maintain the little self control you had left and trying your best not to make any movements. Soft pants escape your lips as the pressure in the pit of your stomach builds to a slow crescendo.

“Don’t be shy, baby, let me hear you. Tell Daddy how good he’s making you feel.” He wraps his lips around your swollen bud and you moan his name loudly in the process, your body giving into the feeling as your back involuntarily arches off the bed and you tug at the restraints around your wrists. “Aht, aht, aht. Remember what I said, baby,” he uses an arm to hold your hips in place, “Behave. I wouldn’t want to punish you now, you’ve been so good f’me so far.”

“P-please, mmm, please… I wanna touch you,” you whimpered. His eyes flickered up to you as he continued to eat you ravishingly. You knew what that look meant, he wanted you to beg for it. Jon had you feeling desperate, pathetic even. And it was so hot.

“D-daddy, oh fuck, daddy p-please let me touch y-you. I promise I’ll b-be good just, mmm, please…” you trailed off, the pleasure he was giving forcing you to surrender to him completely. 

“Be patient, Daddy’s gonna give you what you want, mamas.” He reverts back to your clit, sucking and biting while he teasingly drags two fingers around your entrance. Your breathing picks up and you groan at his actions, your need for him growing by the second. He slides two fingers inside, moaning into your clit as he feels your walls tighten around them. You pull at the restraints once more, moaning his name as he thrusts his digits. You feel like you’re on fire, his tongue and fingers working double time and giving you more pleasure than your body can handle. He curls his fingers as he pumps them inside of you, the pads of his fingers brushing against your g-spot as he continues to take all control from you. You feel your orgasm approaching, and fast.

“I- I’m so close, please, I-” he removes his fingers completely, and you whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes are watery from all the pleasure he’s been giving you, and being denied release has you ready to cry on the spot. “Not yet, you don’t cum until I say so, sweetheart.” He crawls back up to you, undoing the handcuffs around your wrists and flipping you over to your stomach before you can realize it and lifts you by your torso to your hands and knees. “Arch your back for me.” You obey, feeling your lower back stretch as much as it can as you do so. “Fuck, Y/N, you look so pretty like this. I can’t wait to fuckin’ ruin you.”

He pushes his cock inside you without warning, making you cry his name and bring your head down. He grabs your hair as he thrusts into you at a rough pace, smacking your ass as he does so.

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good. Look at me.” You force your eyes open, looking back at him as he pounded into you. You watch his movements, the sweat beading on his forehead as he concentrates on fucking you like his life depended on it. He looked so fucking good like this. Your pussy flutters around the length of his thick cock, and he throws his head back. “Ah, fuck. Do that shit again.” He slams into you harder and deeper, you claw at the bedsheets as moans and praises flood out of your mouth. Your pussy tightens around him again, signaling your release.

“I feel you, baby. You’re gonna cum all over this dick, aren’t you? That’s it, fuck, you love it when I fuck you like this, huh?” He smacks your ass as you moan once more. 

“S-shit, I fuckin’ l-love it, Daddy. You’re s-so fuckin’ deep. Mmm, please.” Jon feels his release fastly approaching as well; he shoves you down until you’re flat on your stomach and places a hand on your back, using it as leverage as he fucks you harder. Tears fall from your cheeks as you cry out, your orgasm about to crash into you. 

“You gonna cum, baby? Go on, let me feel you soak my cock. Let go, pretty girl, cum for Daddy.” You cum around him violently, your body convulsing as you scream his name, completely engulfed in the euphoric feeling of your orgasm as he continues to fuck you through it.

“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, Daddy’s gonna fill this pussy up. You want that? You want Daddy to make you his?” he growled.

“F-fuck yes, oh my god, please Daddy. Need you to cum inside me. P-please. Make m-me yours.”

With one last hard thrust of his hips he cums, his release painting the inside of your walls. He moans your name as your pussy completely drains his cock, feeling as he fills you completely. You two remain there for a moment, panting heavily as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. Jon pulls out of you, wincing because you’re still sensitive. He pulls you up and kisses your forehead, moving your hair from your face.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. C’mon, I’ll start the shower, ma.” You got off the bed, your knees failing you as you almost fell over. Jon chuckles at your reaction and you blush.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, I gotchu. C’mere.” He picks you up bridal style, carrying you off into the bathroom as you relax in his arms.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 78

The Clan collectively celebrates Weedfoot as everyone finds a way to move on. Potterypool, Wolfgaze, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw join their littermates in the warrior’s den.

[Image ID: Potterypool, Wolfgaze, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw are adults and graduates. Under Potterypool, it says LEVEL UP! POTTERYPAW → POTTERYPOOL, INSECURE → SNEAKY, LOVES TO SING → GREAT SINGER. Under Wolfgaze, it says LEVEL UP! WOLFPAW → WOLFGAZE, CURIOUS ABOUT STARCLAN → CONNECTION WITH STARCLAN, CONFIDENT WITH WORDS → GOOD SPEAKER. Under Currentsmoke, it says LEVEL UP! CURRENTPAW → CURRENTSMOKE, CONSTANTLY CLIMBING → GOOD CLIMBER, HAS LOTS OF IDEAS → SKILLED TOOLSMITH. Under Yarrowclaw, it says LEVEL UP! YARROWPAW → YARROWCLAW, THOUGHTFUL → COLD, STARES AT FIRE → TALENTED FIRE-STARTER.]

"Wolfgaze… Wolfgaze… Wolfgaze, Wolfgaze, Wolfgaze!"

"I'm still awake, I promise," Wolfgaze yelped, blinking wildly and shaking the exhaustion from her thick fur. Thank StarClan she didn't fall over. She'd claimed a spot on the Resting Place immediately after her ceremony, providing a great vantage over the camp. Yet the lulling waves behind her and the empty, clouded sky above were the perfect recipe for a long nap. Weevilpaw stood with her front paws on the log, her entire body standing straight with excitement.

"Downstar said I could fetch you," Weevilpaw chirped. "You made it! Your codekeeper's vigil! How did it feel?"

"Long," Wolfgaze yawned. She stumbled off the Resting Place, licking her lips. "Where are the others?" Potterypool, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw had been sitting outside the camp the last time Wolfgaze looked. Now the entrance was barren, all thorns, brambles, and stones.

"They already fell back into camp," Weevilpaw chuckled. "Currentsmoke was so tired, I thought he would fall on his face!"

"I'm ready to see my graduation gift," Wolfgaze sighed as Weevilpaw rubbed against her. The tortoiseshell cleric helped her sister into camp, laughing as Wolfgaze's eyes drifted shut. With the sun peeking over the sea, Wolfgaze expected the Clan to set out for the day's patrols, but to her surprise, she found most of RippleClan gathered in the center of camp. Downstar sat on the Shiprock, gazing down at the activities below her. Potterypool, Currentsmoke, and Yarrowclaw stood at the edge of the crowd, trying to see what caught their kin's attention.

"What's going on?" Wolfgaze asked, morning clarity clearing her thoughts. She and Weevilpaw joined the newly graduated cats, who were all largely ignored by the rest of the Clan.

"The artisans are doing something," Yarrowclaw explained.

"I think it has something to do with that big chunk of wood they brought in last night," Currentsmoke pointed out. "Remember? Elmsprout and the artisans pulled the sled out and came back to camp with a huge piece!"

"It was a slow night, Currentsmoke," Potterypool hummed, gently nudging her friend. "I think she remembers." Wolfgaze did not, in fact, remember, but she pretended she did.

Wolfgaze braced herself and squeezed between Splashtuft and Wildclaw. She weaved around her Clanmates until she broke into the center of the circle. Mitespark, Elmsprout, Rabbitjoy, and Rattlepelt stood around a wooden sculpture. Ravenpaw sat near them, listening carefully as Rattlepelt explained what they were doing. They picked at the wood with their claws, their teeth, and a few specialized tools; sharp stone picks that could be wrapped around the paw with leather straps, perfect for detailed work on pottery and woodwork. Elmsprout was the first to notice Wolfgaze.

"Wolfgaze!" she called, gently stepping back from the sculpture. "You finished your vigil! Congratulations! Your sisters made your nest in the warrior's den. I'm certain you'll like their gift."

"What are you doing, though?" Wolfgaze asked.

"Oh, that's right, no one told you," Elmsprout gasped softly. "Mitespark, let her see!" Mitespark carefully pulled her carving pick from the wood's surface and moved to the side. It was a bust, a cat's face from the tip of their ears to their collarbone. They were a smooth-faced cat with round features, shaped almost like a triangle sitting on its tip.

"We debated whether to carve in her stripes or paint them," Rabbitjoy explained, "but I think we're going to paint them."

"Is this someone I'm supposed to recognize?" Wolfgaze asked.

"We carved it from memory," Mitespark admitted, "but imagine gray fur and deep blue eyes…"

"Weedfoot!" Wolfgaze suddenly gasped. "You carved Weedfoot's face?"

"James and Scaleripple are making paint for her," Rattlepelt explained. "We told James he could rest and enjoy the finished product, but I guess he wanted to lend a paw for once."

"But why carve Weedfoot?" Wolfgaze asked, glancing at the crowd. "Why is everyone so excited?"

"A Clan's leader and deputy carry all of us on their backs," Rabbitjoy said, brushing against the newly named codekeeper. "They affect all of us, and we all grieve them when they pass. It's a part of our history fading away. The whole camp was up last night sharing memories of Weedfoot, and Paleseed came up with this idea. We're thinking of doing the same for future leaders and deputies after they pass."

"We'll find a place to store them where the paint won't decay," Rattlepelt promised.

"It will be lovely," Wolfgaze purred. A yawn slipped through her words, despite her efforts to hold it back.

"It will still be here when you wake up," Mitespark laughed. "Go to sleep!" Wolfgaze bowed her head, her exhaustion flooding back with Mitespark's simple order. She moved back through the crowd, who passed along a few more congratulations.

"Wolfgaze!" Billowhaze stepped out of the swarm just as Wolfgaze breached the horde. His whiskers twitched in casual mirth. "Anchovy and I are planning abig battle-training session with Estherfern's litter this evening. You should join us! With all the Spirits of Shadow out there, those five could practice against that stare of yours."

"I'm not sure," Wolfgaze gulped, her ears suddenly growing hot under Billowhaze's charming stare. "It might be too dangerous to leave camp just for a training session. With what happened to Silverpaw…" Silverpaw should have been sitting vigil with Wolfgaze that night. Wolfgaze shouldn't have had to spend those long moments wondering what happened to her sister, what Spirit of Shadow pulled her under, never to be seen again.

"That's why training will be good for them," Billowhaze insisted. "We can even bring Weevilpaw along if that makes you feel better. The Spirits of Shadow wouldn't match claws with our three star-blessed warriors, would they?" Billowhaze winked and turned back to Weedfoot's bust, trying to gaze upon the former deputy's face. Even through the chaos of recent moons and the overpowering desire to sleep, Wolfgaze still felt her heart flutter at Billowhaze's stare.

It seemed her life as a codekeeper was off to a good start.

(Weevilpaw: 13, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Wolfgaze: 13, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, good speaker)

(Yarrowclaw: 13, female, warrior, cold, talented fire-starter)

(Currentsmoke: 13, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)

(Potterypool: 13, female, caretaker, sneaky, great singer)

(Elmsprout: 45, female, caretaker, charismatic, helpful insight)

(Rabbitjoy: 115, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

(Mitespark: 20, female, artisan, charismatic, great mediator)

(Rattlepelt: 61, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Billowhaze: 13, male, historian, loyal, good kitsitter)

Boughpaw found a forget-me-not flower growing in the frost and decided to keep it.

[Image ID: Boughpaw now wears a forget-me-not flower. Under her, it reads + ACCESSORY: FORGET-ME-NOTS.]

(Boughpaw: 10, female, historian apprentice, righteous, constantly climbing)

While collecting samples of ichor for a banishing ritual with Estherfern, Anchovystrike, and Mosspounce, Foampaw swears she hears Shrewkit crying in the distance. When she and Mosspounce go to investigate, only Mosspounce returns alive with horrified tales of a manykit and a new spirit composed of frost-covered leaves.

[Image ID: Foampaw is a StarClan spirit.]

(Foampaw: 10, female, caretaker apprentice, troublesome, always wandering)

Slushtrail spends time with her family.

[Image ID: Tallowheart, Oilstripe, Slushtrail, Shrewkit, Carnationspeckle, Rattlepelt, and Wildclaw gather together.]

---

Slushtrail knew, as soon as Downstar ordered everyone to stay in camp unless absolutely necessary, Longest Night would truly be a long, long night.

Three torches sat before the main bonfire, separate from the other memorials. A withered dandelion sat in front of the tallest. A silver stone necklace hung from the second. Salt crusted the base of the third, dipped in sea foam. It was a lot like the Longest Night Slushtrail remembered from her kithood. The artisans danced and sang, the historians told stories, the caretakers prepared a late night meal. The fire still roared against the never-ending night, a refusal to bow to the cold and decay. Slushtrail could tell, however, that it hurt some of her Clanmates to keep up the fight. Estherfern ranted to her remaining kits, relaying all she had learned in those last few moons about the Spirits of Shadow and their dangers. Mosspounce laughed a bit too loud at one of Lemmy's comments. Lavendertwist sang just loud enough to hurt Slushtrail's ears. Rattlepelt fought to keep Ravenpaw's attention, trying to demonstrate a special dance. RippleClan was clawing at the edge of a cliff, trying to pull themselves back up, unable to think anything but "it will be okay" when their hearts spoke the opposite.

Honeybuzz brushed his tail against Estherfern's shoulder mid-rant. She paused, and Slushtrail could see Estherfern's breath catch and fog around her. She touched her nose to each of her kits and followed Honeybuzz to the side, where Troutpool and Weevilpaw waited. Slushtrail couldn't hear them, but they sat close and carried torches in their eyes. Best to leave them be for now.

The rest of Slushtrail's family sat in front of the nursery. Tallowheart worked with Oilstripe on an old story; a great war between WheatClan and SlugClan and a friendship that healed their wounds. Carnationspeckle listened closely with Rattlepelt and Wildclaw while Shrewkit hid under Rattlepelt's fox pelt, shivering. With one more look over the rest of the Clan, Slushtrail joined her mothers and siblings.

"How do you like Longest Night, Shrewkit?" Slushtrail asked.

"I don't like the cold," he huffed, pulling his face under the fox pelt. "My mom's probably freezing her flank off tonight."

"I'm sure wherever your birth mother is," Carnationspeckle sighed, lifting the kit's cover away, "she's just happy you're growing up somewhere safe and warm. Can I warm you up?" Shrewkit nodded and crawled closer to his grandmother. Carnationspeckle licked Shrewkit's fur the wrong way, warming his blood.

"So can leaders really give cats whole new names?" Shrewkit asked, turning to Tallowheart and Oilstripe. "Like the warrior in your story?"

"I'm a living example of that!" Wildclaw chirped, gently bunting her son. "Have we told you I used to called Graythroat? Downstar gave me a new name because of how fiercely I defend RippleClan."

"More like because you have a death wish," Oilstripe chuckled. Tallowheart hid a snicker.

"I've outgrown it!" Wildclaw insisted with a laugh.

"Mostly," Rattlepelt hummed, rolling her eyes. Wildclaw batted her mate's muzzle, and Shrewkit laughed.

"Well I never want to lose my name," Shrewkit declared. "My mom named me Shrew, and that's who I'll be, forever. The kit part is extra." When he sat taller, he nearly head-butted Carnationspeckle's jaw into her skull.

"It works well for you," Slushtrail purred.

And for that night, everything was alright.

(Slushtrail: 14, female, mediator, wise, clever, talented weaver)

(Shrewkit: 2, male, kit, bossy, never sits still)

(Carnationspeckle: 80, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Wildclaw: 70, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Oilstripe: 82, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Rattlepelt: 61, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Tallowheart: 14, male, historian, nervous, good swimmer)

Troutpool hopes Trumpetspore notices her.

[Image ID: Troutpool stares at Trumpetspore.]

---

Troutpool stared at Trumpetspore from the medicine den as Trumpetspore and Brightpaw showed Shrewkit how to perform a hunter's crouch. There wasn't a lot of room to practice, since almost everyone was in camp, safe under the divine protection Troutpool and her peers summoned. It was the same protective ritual they performed during Harvest Moon. The clerics could only pray it would guard the Clan long enough for them to strike back against the Spirits of Shadow. Yet despite her chronic fear of them, Trumpetspore proved more confident in Troutpool's rituals than the cream cleric was.

"Keep your flank a little lower," Trumpetspore said, nudging Shrewkit's high flank down. "You're doing well." Troutpool didn't care if others laughed at Trumpetspore's nervousness or groaned at her panic. There was a keen-eyed warrior under that blanket of anxiety; a warrior Troutpool wanted to know more. Troutpool's eyes softened as she watched the black warrior move with such ease between Shrewkit and Brightpaw, eager to train despite the danger.

"You're staring." Troutpool startled a bit. Scaleripple stood outside the den, expressionless. He held a paw to his chest. A large thorn jutted out from his pads.

"I was just marveling at how well Shrewkit's adapted to Clan life," Troutpool stammered with a lick of her chest. "Here, that thorn looks awful, I'll help you get it out." That was obviously why Scaleripple was there, why did Troutpool have to say it like that?

Troutpool led Scaleripple into the shadow of the den. She grabbed a few cobwebs from the shelves (no need to waste a bandage on a simple thorn). She held Scaleripple's paw out and gripped the thorn between her teeth.

"You were staring at Trumpetspore," Scaleripple said right as Troutpool ripped the thorn out of his paw. Scaleripple hissed and licked the fresh flowing blood. Troutpool moved his paw back down and placed cobwebs on the small wound.

"Stay here for a while, and keep your paw off the sand," Troutpool said. "I'll take the cobwebs off soon. A wound that size will close quickly." Troutpool licked a strand of cobweb off her paws. Scaleripple stared at her, barely blinking. Did he want to talk about Trumpetspore? Well, if he did, he could just ask. Troutpool had no reason to be embarrassed by it. "You know Trumpetspore well. If I were to ask her on a date—"

"No," Scaleripple said so suddenly that Troutpool once again startled. They both stared at each other, one confused, the other certain in an unknowable, detached way. No? What did Scaleripple mean by 'no'? He wasn't Trumpetspore's mentor. Troutpool didn't need his permission! She must not have been able to hide her thoughts as well as Scaleripple did, for the gold and white warrior continued. "You told Trumpetspore her littermate was an omen. Why would she be your mate?"

"Scaleripple," Troutpool huffed, finding what little confidence she possessed and hardening her voice. "I only reported StarClan's sign. I didn't want to make Tempestshade's life hard. I revealed it at their trial because I didn't want them to be found guilty of murder."

"Instead you made everyone avoid them," Scaleripple said. He glanced at his bandaged paw with a soft huff. He tore off the red-stained cobweb and spat the wad onto the middle of the floor. "So, no. You don't get to ask Trumpetspore on a date. You don't deserve that." Scaleripple licked his paw once more and walked out of the den. It didn't seem to matter that he left Troutpool spinning, a dormant pressure rising in her chest. No, Scaleripple sauntered back into the packed clearing like nothing had happened.

According to him, nothing else should happen.

(Troutpool: 39, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Trumpetspore: 39, female, warrior, nervous, excellent potter, good storyteller)

(Scaleripple: 31, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

RippleClan prepares a ritual to fight back against the Spirit hordes.

[Image ID: Troutpool, Honeybuzz, and Weevilpaw stand in a circle around Estherfern. Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, Oilstripe, and Scaleripple watch from the sides.]

---

In Estherfern's faith, there was her God, who did His best to watch over her home, but there were also the Six Predators. The Wolf, The Fox, The Owl, The Hawk, The Rat, The Cougar. These vengeful, vindictive deities loved to toy with catkind, so Estherfern's home developed a dozen ways to combat their influence. Somewhere in the back of her heart, Estherfern wondered if they were the ones who tormented the souls of the Dark Forest, who gave birth to the Spirits of Shadow. Maybe they were the ones to kill Foampaw. Maybe they were laughing somewhere, saying "Look at Esther. Stepping above her station, making friends with the damned. Shouldn't she have known better? It's so fun to watch her destroy her family."

That night, Estherfern would spit in the faces of the Six Predators, of the Spirits of Shadow, of everything supernatural that roamed her new home, because no one got away with hurting her kits. Not even her.

"Estherfern, we don't have to tell anyone," Honeybuzz whispered as the procession trailed toward the beach. Honeybuzz and Estherfern kept to the back of the group, carrying baskets of supplies. Troutpool walked inside a circle composed of Weevilpaw, Anchovystrike, and Wolfgaze. Oilstripe and Scaleripple kept a sharp eye for strange shadows, ready to fight and protect the untrained clerics.

"What sort of justice would that be?" Estherfern huffed.

"The sort that keeps the peace," Honeybuzz said.

"Peace built on lies is no peace at all," Estherfern sighed. "When this is done… we're telling the Clan. May your ancestors and my God forgive me." Estherfern stared at the clouded sky. If StarClan was as strong as her Clanmates claimed, their presence would not be dulled by simple clouds hiding Silverpelt from view.

As the patrol approached the beach, it began to snow. Flakes danced on Estherfern's nose. Wolfgaze rubbed her fluffy pelt against her sister's thin fur as Weevilpaw shivered. Honeybuzz ran into the thicker circle of cats, quietly begging for extra warmth. Estherfern soaked in the cold. The cold meant she was alive. She was free. It was this freedom she sought to protect ever since she escaped the cat-minded human. Yet in seeing her kits as imprisoned in their bodies, had she not denied them freedom? Whenever she spoke with Wolverinepaw, the long-furred duplicate of Estherfern still stared a bit too hard. Thunderpaw still didn't ask Estherfern to repeat herself if she didn't catch what she said. Brightpaw squirmed in Estherfern's company, and Boughpaw stayed silent, forgotten in her normalcy. The truth would be the only thing that could fix their bonds, even if it destroyed them in the process.

"This is the place," Troutpool finally said. The patrol stood where the river met the ocean, dissolving into branches. Sand melted into mud and clay. A salt pool sat in the sand, the artisan's precious system to separate out the water and harvest the pure white crystals. The sea was nothing more than churning shadow. Estherfern and Honeybuzz set their baskets down.

"StarClan is watching," Oilstripe whispered, head spinning. "There are so many cats. I see Mousesong, and Weedfoot, Silverpaw… Estherfern, Foampaw is here." Estherfern steadied herself. She swallowed the rock in her throat.

"This is for you, Silverpaw!" Wolfgaze called into the dark, still pressed against Weevilpaw.

"They aren't saying anything," Oilstripe said. "I think they're just bearing witness."

"Foampaw, forgive me," Estherfern whispered.

"Oilstripe, Anchovystrike, Wolfgaze, Scaleripple," Honeybuzz said, taking dry mushrooms out of his basket, "you'll patrol around us while we work. Anchovystrike, how do we look?"

"There's ichor everywhere," Anchovystrike groaned, sneering at the sand. "The spirits roam the entire territory."

"It shouldn't be hard to draw them in," Weevilpaw huffed, standing taller. "I'll call out if I predict any of them attacking."

"This will take some time, so stay alert," Honeybuzz said. "Weevilpaw, help me build this side of the circle. Troutpool, Estherfern, take the other half." Estherfern gently grabbed a mouthful of mushrooms, which grew damp in the snow, and started on her side of the circle.

The circle would be far bigger than the one in Estherfern's cursed den. Yes, it was similar to that original circle, composed of the same mushrooms that connected the living world to the Dark Forest. Yet here, the design was not based on those damned traditions, but Estherfern's faith. While the mushrooms formed the curves of the circle, rather than filling the interior with an herbal sludge, Estherfern's basket held a purer replacement; the spirit-rebelling charms from Harvest Moon. In Estherfern's home, the charms would have had the gentle face of God, with tufts of fur representing each of the Six Predators replacing the mushrooms.

"Is this safe?" Scaleripple asked. He sat in the branches of a chokecherry, carefully watching the shore.

"We're summoning Spirits of Shadow and sending them back to the Dark Forest," Weevilpaw scoffed as she set down a few more charms. "There's a lot of risk involved here. But it's what we have to do if we have any hope to get rid of them all."

"I don't mean the spirits," Scaleripple said softly. "These gods that Estherfern fears… are they real?"

"Of course they are," Estherfern snapped, almost knocking a mushroom out of its place. "They may not dwell over your lands, but they dwell over mine."

"What if we summon both the spirits…" Scaleripple said, "and your Predators?" Estherfern's paw clenched over a charm. Was the white-speckled warrior right? Estherfern knew so many tales of the Six Predators and the way they destroyed lives. They did not need to feed, they did not have that excuse for their mayhem. It was fun for them. They spread their domains with no care for each other or any living creature. Was Estherfern repeating her earlier mistakes? Was she, in her effort to fix one problem, inviting something far worse?

"Esther," Honeybuzz said. He met Estherfern's eyes from the other side of the circle. He set the last mushroom in its place. "It's our best option. There are too many." Estherfern nodded. She settled the last of her charms in the circle and turned to Troutpool. The head cleric nodded in return.

"Everyone, stay back, and stay quiet," Troutpool called as Estherfern stepped into the circle. "Honeybuzz, Weevilpaw, are you ready?"

"I'm not a very good singer," Weevilpaw chuckled. She rubbed snow out of her eyes and settled at the edge of the circle.

"You don't have to be," Estherfern said. "Just say the names clearly."

"I've never heard names like these," Troutpool muttered, tucking her tail over her paws.

"You wouldn't have," Estherfern said with a flick of an ear.

Weevilpaw, Honeybuzz, and Troutpool sat equal distance from one another, poised outside the circle. Scaleripple jumped out of the tree and joined Oilstripe. Wolfgaze and Anchovystrike lingered near Weevilpaw. Snow dusted the mushrooms and charms.

"The ichor isn't happy, I can already tell," Anchovystrike muttered. Wolfgaze put her tail to his muzzle.

"Predators of the Great Glowing Lands," Estherfern yowled into the snowy night. "We bind you to this place with your true names!" The four clerics closed their eyes. The song came naturally to Estherfern, embedded into her very being. It wasn't hard to teach it to her compatriots.

Luponthoth

Vulpo Thun

Strigart

But-oro

Rapendazera

Punai'kema

The gentle voices of the clerics rose through the snow in a soft, yet tense melody, like bird song. Estherfern dropped out of the song and opened her eyes. Oilstripe and Anchovystrike's hackles rose, their heads bouncing to sights only they could see.

As Honeybuzz, Troutpool, and Weevilpaw carried on the song, Estherfern yowled, "We know of your appetites! We know of your boredom! This land is filled with wicked spirits! We have formed their path to safety, and they'll think they can escape. Have fun!"

The cleric's song cut off as a violent gush of wind battered their voices, flinging snow into their eyes. Wolfgaze yowled, bracing herself against Anchovystrike. The leaves that decorated Oilstripe's pelt flew off. Estherfern's heart raced as the snow bit her nose. Yet a few moments later, the wind receded. Estherfern breathed deep. Scaleripple shook out his pelt while Honeybuzz shivered. The humming ocean made Estherfern's ears ring.

"Stay where you are," Estherfern warned her companions. Her fur spiked when a sudden realization washed over her. "Anchovystrike, close your eyes."

"Why?" Anchovystrike asked.

"Foxdung!" Weevilpaw suddenly cried, jumping with her back arched. "They're… from the forest! Watch out!"

"Anchovystrike," Estherfern yowled as something tumbled through the trees, "you see the unseen influence of the supernatural. If you see the Predators as they really are, you will go mad! Now close your eyes!" Anchovystrike obeyed just in time.

Terrified howls echoed through the forest. Black sludge dripped from the grass onto the sand. It tumbled faster and faster like a newly formed river, racing toward the circle. Oilstripe and Scaleripple scrambled back as the ichor slammed into the circle. It launched at Estherfern with a steaming, bubbling sound. Estherfern held her ground. The ichor plunged into the sand around her like a fox leaping into snow. It stained the sand black and burrowed deep, deep, deep.

Then the monsters came. They howled and shrieked and cauterwauled, running through the trees as fast as they could. There were darkhounds, thundering along with massive paws and bloody jaws, yipping like pups. There was forsaken prey, decayed and rotten yet moving and squealing just as they did in their final moments. Leatherwaste flopped and flew about, and something new, something without a proper name, some storm-spun bundle of dull brown leaves and glistening frost, slithered toward the circle.

"Stay down!" Weevilpaw yowled, belly dropping to the sand. All except Estherfern mimicked the cleric apprentice. The Spirits of Shadow raced alongside the trail of ichor and into the circle. They dug and clawed at the sand, following their lifeblood back into the depths. But they were the lucky ones.

Estherfern could not see them, but she could see their power unfold. Unseen talons snatched spirits by their backs and flung them into the sky. Eager, invisible jaws snapped and bit into the sticky flesh of the spirits. Something dragged unlucky spirits into the shadows, screaming. They sank into the earth before they reached the circle. They dissolved into steaming piles of ichor with torturous wails.

The world went white. The loudest, strongest clap of thunder Estherfern had ever heard reverberated through her skeleton and stayed singing in her ears. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear. Her skin buzzed. In a moment of clarity tucked within the chaos, Estherfern wondered if this is what her kits felt. A path without sight, without sound, heart pushing out of your chest, is a blessing compared to the fate that awaits the rot.

It took some time for Estherfern's vision to clear. She and her Clanmates were still standing, unharmed. The ichor and spirits were gone. There was no sign they had been there at all, save for a few mushrooms missing from the circle. The other cats groaned, rubbing their ears and eyes. They were alive. The spirits had left RippleClan.

Something drew Estherfern's gaze up. Clear shapes formed within the clouds, backed by a pale glow. Each cloud looked perfectly like its subject; a wolf, a fox, an owl, a hawk, a rat, and a cougar. Where their eyes would have been were balls of lightning, sparking and dancing, glaring down at the Clans in hunger.

The creatures of the glowing sky do not rule this land, but visitors cannot be denied. The stars shall extend their power, and the beasts shall fill their bellies. So it has been for you, so it shall be for all.

"Foampaw?" Estherfern gulped, barely capable of hearing herself.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Anchovystrike gulped. He still had his paws over his face.

"They're gone!" Weevilpaw cried. She ran into the circle and plowed into Estherfern. The old molly looked back to the clouds, but they were now a simple sheet of gray against black. Honeybuzz and Troutpool joined them, pressing against Estherfern.

"Is StarClan still watching over us?" Wolfgaze asked, hopping into the circle.

"They left when the ritual began," Oilstripe stammered, staring across the river, "but they've returned. They're watching from afar. I can't tell what they're thinking."

"They're on our side," Honeybuzz promised, waving the others into the circle. "I petitioned them myself at the last half-moon. We wouldn't have done this if StarClan disapproved."

"They may not have disapproved," Estherfern muttered, "but that does not mean they are proud."

"I think they are!" Troutpool chirped. "It was scary, but we've banished the spirits. We can walk our lands freely again. We wouldn't have saved the Clan without you, Estherfern." Troutpool nuzzled Estherfern, but the old molly still stared at the clouds.

"I don't understand you, StarClan," she whispered, not caring whether the cats pressed into her overheard. "You ask my God to send me here, you stand by while I summon your enemies, you allow me to draw the gaze of something far worse on your descendants. Why?" The stars shall extend their power… the voice in Estherfern's head had been as clear as when Foampaw last stood by Estherfern's side. Was it somehow better for the Clans to attract the attention of the Six Predators? Was it an earnest decision, made for the betterment of the five Clans? Did StarClan desire more power, more control, more souls?

Estherfern sighed. She would find no answers that night. She would be the one providing answers soon enough.

(Estherfern: 112, female, cleric, bloodthirsty, great mediator, prophecy seeker)

(Honeybuzz: 26, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Troutpool: 39, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sense)

(Oilstripe: 82, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Wolfgaze: 13, female, codekeeper, thoughtful, connection to StarClan, good speaker)

(Anchovystrike: 13, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)

(Weevilpaw: 13, female, cleric apprentice, adventurous, curious about StarClan)

(Scaleripple: 31, male, warrior, lonesome, formidable fighter)

(Foampaw: 10, female, caretaker apprentice, troublesome, always wandering)

[withbroombefore]

I saw a poll earlier about participation in regular in-person activities, with numbers that make me wonder if a lot of people don't know what the options are or how to find them. Here are some that I have always found welcoming to new people; for me, these are ways to leave my apartment and get some human interaction without having to make much conversation (there is a reasonable amount of that if you want it, but since it's understood that you are there to do an activity, the thing you are doing is the point rather than pure socializing). A search for "[activity] [location]" should tell you what's available in your area.

Contra dancing: This goes at the top and gets explanation because it's my favorite. I grew up doing this and love it very very much; I always look for local dances when I move somewhere new. Most dances are very beginner-friendly (though there are some exceptions), and zero dance experience is required to participate. Many will include a lesson for beginners in the half-hour before the main event starts, and there are always instructions throughout the evening. You truly do not need to know anything going in. The convention is to switch partners throughout the night, and it's completely okay to attend alone and ask people you don't know to dance. Try Contra Dancing has a search tool by zip code. Typically $8-15.

Community theatre tech: Acting is an option if that's your thing, but in my experience, tech is easier if you're looking for an activity because there's not usually competition--you often can just volunteer without needing to worry about auditions or casting. Roles like run crew (where you move set between scenes and such) don't require any prior knowledge, and plenty of the other tasks can be learned with a little training. If you turn up reliably, the word will spread--good techies are invaluable. Free to participate.

Community band or chorus: Prior experience in playing an instrument is necessary for the band; for singing, it depends on the type of chorus. Some are auditioned, others are just thrilled by any participation. May require dues.

Shapenote singing: A more niche one and another of my personal favorites (I ignore the religious lyrics and treat them as poetry). This can take some time to pick up, but many places have a small monthly sing that is very welcoming to new people. fasola.org has lots of information about the tradition and where to sing. Free, optional donations accepted.

Library events: Find your local public library's website and look for a calendar or events page to see if anything appeals. Typically free.

Crafting groups: Yarn stores and other craft supply places often have regular open gatherings (typically free) and/or classes (may cost money for teaching and supplies).

Games: If you have a local game store, check their website for events. Or search "[location] [chess club]" or whatever is your thing. Usually free.

Dance: Depends on what is available in your area. A studio where I am has a monthly swing dance, with beginner lessons before, for $10.

Sports: I don't really do these but they presumably exist and can be found like the other things.

The important thing is to just go do the thing. It will probably feel awkward the first time--that's normal! These are all spaces where the point is for people to show up and participate. They want you to be there, and they want you to come back! Otherwise they can't keep existing. Several of these (contra dancing, shapenote, a lot of crafting groups) are especially excited about new people and younger participants and will be thrilled to teach you how to do the thing. And the only way to make it feel comfortable is to plow through the first awkwardness and go back until you decide if you actually enjoy it or not. When you find a thing you like, keep going, and after a little while you end up with a community of people to see regularly who share your interests. This is what humans are supposed to do.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Death Waits

Then there’s Rio. Rio, who laughs like a hyena, sulks whenever Agatha is cruel, loves puppet shows, sleeping in, bad puns, watching people die and for some indeterminate reason, Agatha.

Agatha and Rio in their dating period. Agatha realizes how much Rio would like to personally kill her.

Death is relentless, implacable, everywhere and nowhere. She comes for everyone, stands at bedsides and roadsides, watches them all grapple with the circumstances of their own ends. Sometimes Agatha really sees Her, larger than life, too big for even Agatha to comprehend, one of the sacred mysteries of the universe.

Then there’s Rio. Rio, who laughs like a hyena, sulks whenever Agatha is cruel, loves puppet shows, sleeping in, bad puns, watching people die and for some indeterminate reason, Agatha.

Of course, she isn’t any good at being human, not really. Agatha catches it, in all the little ways and the big. How Rio forgets to breathe, enjoys half-rotten food that she doesn’t always chew and has no understanding at all of what it’s like to be afraid of dying, the latter of which Agatha happily uses to her own advantage, because the most convenient way Rio isn’t human is that she’s not going to die and leave Agatha behind.

Still, sometimes Agatha finds herself watching Rio, sprawled on her stomach, observing a butterfly with apparent fascination and she’s slightly amused that there’s an immortal part of the balance in there somewhere.

She crawls over on top of Rio, murmurs in her ear, ”Drop the mask?”

Death turns her head unnaturally far to look at her, skeletal, noseless, a thousand endings in her eyes, small deaths and big ones, the end of a life, the end of a civilization, the end of a solar system. All hers.

“Why?” she asks and Agatha shrugs, caught, entranced.

“Sometimes I just like to see,” she admits.

“You aren’t afraid?”

“Of course I am,” Agatha says. They both know how much Agatha Harkness fears her own end. “You’re still beautiful.”

Those bottomless eyes change, and now they are not many deaths across all scales, but one death in many ways and Agatha finds herself affixed, frozen, watching herself die over and over again. At the stake, by the sword, of disease, of drowning, in a strange vehicle, to a falling ceiling, to Death hers—

The mask snaps back into place. Rio blinks and then tries an imitation of a human smile while Agatha grapples to understand everything she just saw. “Was one of those you killing me?”

The way Rio shudders under her is slightly unnerving, she knows the other woman well enough to recognize excitement. “That’s almost never allowed,” she says, and yes, that’s definitely excitement in her voice.

“But you want to.”

Rio hesitates, scans her face, then nods. “Yes, Agatha, I want to. I really—yes.”

Agatha has been aware for some time that her death excites her lover. Still, she isn’t sure how she feels about knowing that Rio wants to do it personally.

“Creepy,” she murmurs and there is a flash of real concern in Rio’s eyes. She sits up, spills Agatha off and wraps her arms around her.

“I don’t want it to bother you,” she says.

“You don’t want me to be bothered by the fact that you want to kill me?”

Rio nods. “Right.”

Agatha can’t stop herself from laughing, a small, snorting laugh. “Well, if you don’t want it…”

“Agatha.” Something serious in that tone, something that is going to end in sulking and knives unless Agatha picks another tactic.

Agatha gathers up her lover, warm and soft, smelling not unpleasantly of dirt and growing things, currently remembering to breathe. “It’s fine, it’s fine, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Really?” Rio sounds genuinely uncertain, as uncomfortable as Agatha has ever seen her.

“I do wish you would tell me what happens after,” Agatha murmurs against her ear, always desperate to learn the mysteries of what happens after death. It would just be comforting to have a map. “Who knows, maybe I’d let you.”

She’s on her back with a knife to her throat on the last syllable, too fast to understand what’s happening. Rio’s eyes hold the kind of wild, electric excitement that happens whenever Agatha manages to be something like romantic. That normally ends with Agatha being dragged to bed for hours on end, hardly the worst fate.

Agatha isn’t as sure how this one ends. Her breathing has caught, her pulse is racing and she's staring up at her girlfriend, who is currently looking even more deadly than normal. “Rio…”

“Say it again,” Rio begs. “Ags, say it again.”

“Uh. If I do.”

“Yes,” Rio says, promises, the knife pressing in. “Agatha, come on, come with me, come see what’s behind the veil.”

“Okay, how about we calm down a little first…”

Rio growls, a guttural, echoing sound. Around them, plants have started to sprout, flowers and vines and small trees, the small, flat clearing transforming into a jungle.

“Hey, hey, Rio,” Agatha says, overly aware of the knife scraping skin when she speaks and the way her lover is staring down at her, impatient, hungry, a very, very familiar look. It is the same way Rio watches her when she kills other witches.

Agatha swallows, feels the knife, lets a tremor of real emotion sneak into her voice and says something she hates, “Rio, please, you’re scaring me.”

That breaks it or at least gets the knife to disappear and Rio to collapse on top of her, holding her tight.

Agatha notes that her lover has once again stopped breathing.

“Sorry. Got too excited,” Rio murmurs. “Don’t be. Ags, don’t be scared.

“I’m not,” Agatha says, with her normal brazen contempt for the idea of fear. “I did want you to drop the knife, though.”

Rio pulls back, studies her. “Really?”

Agatha snorts. “Me? Scared of you?”

Rio cuddles tighter against her. “…Good. I don’t want—you can be scared of death. Don’t be scared of me.”

“Of course not,” Agatha says, kissing her hair. “Who could be scared of you? You get distracted by butterflies and cry if I say anything even slightly mean.”

“…I like butterflies, they don’t live very long. And I don’t think I even know how to cry.”

Agatha shrugs. “My point is, knife aside, you’re very unintimidating.”

”Sure, Agatha.” She can hear the smile in Rio’s voice. “…You’re being nice about it. Thanks.”

Agatha cuddles the woman who loves her, the woman she loves so much that it scares her more than Death ever could, who definitely wants to kill her personally. The same woman who laughs at her jokes, puts up with her many personality flaws, lets Agatha drag her from place to place. The gorgeous, compelling, inhuman woman who surprises and delights her, shares her bed and her life, promises never to leave, the one person in the world Agatha has started to believe it just might be safe to love.

”…As far as flaws go, wanting to kill me isn’t that bad,” she decides.

“No?”

“Could be worse. Imagine if you were boring.”

Rio’s shrill laugh against her ear. “Truly terrible. You either, Agatha. You’re never boring. Never entirely what I expect.”

“That’s flattering. You’ve known a lot of people.”

“Not for very long.”

“Still.”

“…You really don’t mind?” Rio asks, still sounding slightly uncertain.

And now Agatha is beginning to see her favorite thing, the angle. “No. Though…you know, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you feel guilty.”

Rio groans with a mix of affection and exasperation. “Oh no. Agatha Harkness has found a weakness to exploit.”

Agatha gasps in mock-offense, a skit she's done a hundred times before. “Would I do that?”

“Always. You know, I do still have a knife.”

“I know. The one you want to kill me with.”

“…You’re going to use this for a long time, huh?”

“Probably. It does seem like me. But you love me anyway, right?”

Rio sighs against her skin, a whisper of warm air. “More than you will ever know.”

"And that's why you want to kill me?"

Rio snickers. "Yes, Agatha. That is why I want to kill you." There is something longing in her voice and her hands on Agatha are starting to move more purposefully, unlacing the back of Agatha's dress.

"But also why you won't?" Agatha murmurs, pressing feathery kisses against Rio's cheeks, the corner of her lips.

"I won't because I'm not allowed," Rio says, even as Agatha's attentions elicit a soft whine from the end of all things.

Agatha kisses her lover, soft and sweet, a caress, an adoration, an act of worship. "But also because you love me. And you know I'm not ready to stop yet."

Rio nods reluctantly. "…Yes, Agatha, all right. Have it your way." A smile curls her lips, and it isn't a nice smile, too sharp, too big, an inevitable promise. "I can wait for you as long as you need me to. But let me do it, all right? When the time comes?"

Agatha, even Agatha, can't help but suppress a shudder. "Sure," she agrees. "But when I'm ready, okay? Until then," her hand cups Rio's cheek. "Wait for me."

She never fails to be delighted that she can make Death tremble. "As long as I have to, beloved."

That will be forever, if Agatha has her way. She can't imagine wanting to stop, wanting any of this to end. On the off chance it ever has to, though, on possibility that she someday changes her mind, well, she supposes Rio will have earned it. Agatha Harkness isn't an easy prize. She can make even Death wait.

Want to read something else? Try Agatha Sleeps for Rio being a good secret second parent or check out the master list for more

[castlebyersafterdark]

something something early ish relationship byIer sneaking out to mike's car to fuck because everyone is home all the time and they can't wait to get their hands on each other....something something will gripping the seats as he bounces on mike's dick. Something Something

Tonight, the soundtrack was full of evening crickets and the singing of cicadas. The windows were rolled down in want of a breeze, but the hot air of midsummer offered no relief. No drifting wind, gentle as a caress through the backseat, no whistle through the tall Indiana grass that surrounded the car.

Insects and the creak of the old Chevy. Panting breath. Sweet everythings mouthed into strained necks. The obscene slap of skin on skin, that repetitive slick slide of flesh.

Too hot. Mike licked the sweat gathered at Will's collarbone, tongue pressing hard along the give of his skin, more plush than his own, and lapped up that salty sweetness. Teeth scraped as Will's hips slowed to a swivel, whining low in his throat as his body clenched around the cock buried deep inside.

Will caught his breath, thighs raising and lowering ever so slightly as he shifted against the burn in his muscles. Mike felt them shake and pressed a kiss to his cheek, the corner of his mouth, the mole above the perfect curve of his lip.

"Hey. How do you feel? Need me to take over yet?"

Mike ran his hands from their place gripping Will's waist and rounded them over his thighs, so plush and perfect under his palms. He squeezed and lifted Will slightly against him, then guided him back down, bouncing him in place to meet his thrusting hips as hot breath coated his cheek. Will's soft, staccato moans joined the bugs hidden in trees and the still, dry reeds in their secret field. Alone. Quiet.

Sometimes when they parked, they let the radio play soft as they kissed and kissed and shared secrets and made brand new declarations. Other times, nights like these, still new and novel but getting more practiced and familiar, they let their bodies start to compose, to mold and sing for each other with confident notes. The radio remained off.

Mike sharply thrust up hard at a particular bounce, harder and less controlled than he'd planned, and Will gasped as the hot cock dragging against the soft walls of his body jutted against the spot that made him see stars. He choked on a moan and Mike sealed their mouths together to steal the song for himself, drink it in, let it fill his own lungs.

Will stilled and whined again, chest heaving as he slid close, pressed fully against Mike as he breathed through the burn, the fluttering pleasure deep inside.

"Baby. I got you, tell me. Are you good?"

Will turned to stare directly into Mike's eyes, mouth parted, and slowly shook his head in protest, in insistence. He lifted upwards, letting the full length save for the smooth, slick tip ease out of his body before sliding back down with a now practiced squeeze. He took Mike down to the base with a pointed slam and rock, using a move he'd learned drove Mike nearly to the brink, milking pleasure from the place they were connected.

"Oh my god, shit. Gonna be over soon if you do that again."

Will leaned back, coy grin sliding into place as he settled into the ache in his legs, humming as it morphed into a pleasure-pain, a second wind, as Mike shifted into needing a breather.

He didn't give him one.

Will moved his hands from their place on Mike's broad shoulders, a perfect resting place, and leaned forward to grip the seat. His fingers settled against the old upholstery, dry under sweaty hands, and leveraged his weight to lift and raise and lower again. He smiled at the burn in his legs, eyes closing as he found that perfect angle, turning over to the repeated sensation, chasing that drag and jolt.

Mike tipped his head against the top curve of the seat and simply rode it out as Will took him deep, over and over. His hands skimmed Will's sides, settling on that slim, perfect waist, made for him to hold. Personally crafted. Meant to be.

The rocking, bouncing movements jostled the car just enough for brief panic to overtake Mike, hoping desperately that they'd left the emergency brake engaged before their frantic fucking rolled them into the forest. Mike leaned forward just enough to glimpse and chuckled warmly to himself at visual reassurance. His change in angle was inspired, and Will picked up the pace even further.

His legs begged for him to stop, but the way Mike felt sheathed inside, buried over and over again - the stretch, the hot skin dragging over sensitive flesh and muscles contracting in that insane sensation - felt too addicting to deny his body. He couldn't stop. Last thing he wanted to do. Mike could carry him back to the front seat once it was all over and his legs liquefied to useless former limbs.

"Come on, baby, come on, Will. So good, I'm so close, I'm so-"

Will bounced with each thrust punching a little noise from his throat, as Mike grunted in turn, in time, voice like a strummed chord. With a loud oh and a seize of his stomach, Mike's hands squeezed tight and pulled Will down hard to stop the constant motion of his hips and seat fully in his lap, then thrust deep as he spilled inside, coating Will with his hot release. Will went to take himself in-hand and finish off as he indulged that strange feeling of being so full, clenching around the twitch as Mike's cock filled him beautifully, but found that Mike got there first.

Mike batted him away and stroked fast, nice and slick and loose to start with a a tightening grip, just like Will liked it. Will's breath hitched and hitched, octave aligned with the cicadas and worthy of joining the nighttime chorus. He came loud and shuddering, hot over quick fingers that continued to pull at him until he couldn't take it and he grabbed at Mike's hand to join hid, mess be damned. He sunk into an open kiss, more tongue and air than lip to lip, and moaned indecipherable with attempted words of love and praise.

Mike guided them to slide down the seat, slumped together sweaty and sticky and giggling, crowded on the back bench seat of the car. Still entangled, with Mike softening inside Will, neither quite yet ready to physically part.

The interior of the car eas stifling. Hot summer night. Still air. Fog on the windows, even with the back two down. Silent, save for the insects who kept company in their field.

"Mike?" Will asked, giddy, pleasure soaked laughter apparent in his raspy voice - strained from the sheer volume his pleasure had reached. Mike hummed a kiss to Will's forehead and nuzzled closer. "We really gotta drive out here more often."

"Agreed. Heavy agree," he repeated and mentally gave himself kudos for finding the spot earlier that summer on a solitary night drive to clear his head. "Weekly. Minimum."

Will laughed out loud at that and flexed his legs with a groan and gasp, muscles smarting from the sudden lack of motion after the frenzy. They both let out soft, matching sounds as Mike finally slipped out from Will at the movement, already missing the connection. Not vocallzed, but both knew another round was temporarily out of the question.

"Not sure my legs would survive."

Mike ran a hand down Will's chest to hip, over the plump curve of his flank to rest on his exposed leg. He carded a hand across soft hair, cradled the tired thigh that occasionally twitched from exhaustion and aftershock.

"Think tonight was a new record? You're getting so good."

Will beamed with pride and nuzzled close with a soft thanks. Not long ago that he could barely maintain a few moments in Mike's lap before he gave up and let Mike take over. This was fun, exhilarating. Every day with Mike was like that.

"Anyway, not sure my legs are working, either. Don't know how I'm gonna drive us home."

"That's OK. We can stay here. It's nice."

They lay together in the dark, chatting quietly and stealing kisses, and listened to the crickets serenade them in the moments in between when words were not needed, where two steady hearts were more than enough.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 65

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The morning of the invasion, they find Aang's tent empty. Momo and his glider are gone. No one had seen him since he flew off to meditate the night before.

What's worse, they had no time to look before an artificial fog rolled in and the invasion force arrived.

There were a dozen Southern sailing ships, half a dozen of the Norths dual haul platforms, and about two dozen reinforced Earth Kingdom ferries. In addition, Zuko's old ship was flanked by two Fire Nation cruisers, and five of Sokka's 'submarine' inventions.

The gathered forces were massive, gathering and filling the beach. There were people from all over, making a sea of blues and greens and reds. And in that sea, three men emerged. Katara's father, General How, and Zuko's uncle.

"Katara," her father said, wide eyed and anxious. He hadn't seen her since the night he left.

"Not now," she said, glancing past them to the gathered forces. "We need a word."

Murmers and whispers rose up amongst the gathered forces. They didn't have time to focus on that, instead pulling the men equivalent to the three main generals where they could talk privately.

"Aang is missing," Sokka said, once Toph was sure they wouldn't be overheard. "We found out this morning."

"What?!" General How growled. "The Avatar, the head of this entire operation, is just... gone?"

"Twinkle Toes wasn't really the head of anything," Toph scoffed. "Snoozles, Sparky, Honey, and Sweetness were the people actually making plans."

The three adults blinked, like she was speaking an ancient language. Katara couldn't blame them.

"It's to late to back out now, and the invasion can still work," Katara said, turning to Iroh. "We just need someone to take Aang's place."

Zuko took a deep breath, before speaking. "Uncle, will you take the Avatar's place? When the eclipse ends, you're the only other person that could defeat him."

"No," Iroh said, making everyone gape at him. He shook his head, calm as could be. "While I am flattered, I am not as in my prime as I once was. I do not know if I could defeat Ozai, as I could decades ago. And even if I could, the world would only see it as more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother, in a bid for power." Pausing, he looked around at them all. "We must push forward. The Avatar will be where he is needed, when the time is right. We must trust in that."

General How looked dubious, but her father nodded.

"It's to late to back out now," her father said, reaching out to place a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "And, if the Avatar doesn't return... I know that you will do what needs to be done. You're a good man. Strong warrior. The Southern Tribe will always fight alongside you."

Zuko swallowed, giving the man a bow. "You honor me, Chief Hakoda."

"No, Prince Zuko. The honor is mine." Turning, her father eyed the all. "So... Ready to present the invasion plans?"

Sokka swallowed, but nodded. They were heading back, Sokka with an arm full of maps and notes, Zuko right beside him. But as Katara turned to follow, her father grabbed her shoulder.

"Katara, can we talk a moment?"

She thought about saying no. About pushing past to join the others. But this was the first time she had seen her father in almost two years.

"What is it, dad?"

He smiled, looking her over. "After everything you've been through, I thought I would be worried about you returning to the Fire Nation, but I know that Sokka and Zuko would take care of you. I'm glad you're here. That you're going to be fighting alongside us. And before we left, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

Feeling a smile tugging at her own lips, Katara reached out, wrapping her arms around her father. "Thank you."

He squeezed, holding her close. "And Iroh told me about how much closer you and Zuko have gotten. And if he hurts you, I don't care if he's the Fire Lord, he's a member of the tribe and he'll be punished like one."

"Dad!" She pulled back, slapping her father's shoulder, only to get a chuckle in return.

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[nouverx]

Compilation of all the smol Vash that I drew 💫

All from various tumblr requests