#it's not like i ever pressured anyone to smoke either

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Going from being the only smoker in the office for 2 years to then 8 months smoke free, only for my boss and the rest of my coworkers to pick up the habit is a fucking trip.

[shegetsburned]

Uhm hi 👋🏻 could you please write something about Gojo, Nanami, Geto and Toji's reactions to their significant other's life being threatened? Like heartbreaking stuff that ends up well? 👉🏻👈🏻

LOSING YOU w. jujutsu kaisen men ˚ 𐙚 ⋆.

.angst/fluff.

• — ft. satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto, toji fushiguro. took me ages to get to but i’m a sucker for angst, so i just had to do it. thanks for the request, luv! • — content. their reaction to your life being threatened. • — tw. mentions of death, violence, murder.

satoru gojo

₊˚⊹ ᰔ as soon as your name came out of yaga’s mouth, satoru wasted no time and vanished. he searched every place he knew, every corner and alley, in a matter of seconds. there was no coherent thought in his mind while he teleported. the only thing he could clearly see was you. that you were in danger and that you needed to be saved. that he couldn’t let you die and that he previously had so clearly promised that he’d never let anything happen to either you or him.

a liar, he thought he was. how could he have let this happen? what was the point of being the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t even protect you. he really did believe nothing could happen to you if he was by your side. he’d murder anyone who’d ever try to harm you without even looking back. this time wouldn’t be any different.

he felt his heartbeat reach his ears when he finally felt you near an ally, back pressed against the wall. a hand on your chest, crimson blood dripping down your shirt. jerky breaths escaping your trembling lips. this curse had taken his sweet time with you. it wanted to feed and you were a tasty dinner. there were marks of struggle on your shredded clothes and bruised wrists.

nothing came out of satoru’s mouth when his eyes landed on you. he just couldn’t believe he had let this happen to you. his expression was stoic. when he slowly approached you the curse immediately felt it. the strongest sorcerer doesn’t let most curses escape from his grasp. but this one.. this one would inevitably suffer the most.

it wasn’t long before the curse felt his body being pushed against the wall in front of you. a yelp was heard when his skull hit the wall head-on. you could hear the bones crack and send shivers through your entire being. that’s when you realized your boyfriend had finally arrived. but when you lifted your head trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes he had already turned all his attention towards the threat.

you had never seen him like this. he was lifeless. his eyebrows were lowered and pulled closer together. you could’ve sworn his eyes bulged. he was enraged. he didn’t even bother to raise his arm towards the curse, he just advanced and slowly- very slowly crushed every little bone in the monster’s body.

you were out of breath but couldn’t shift your gaze from the horrible spectacle in front of you. the wall caved under the pressure as gojo used his infinity to create a space between him and the curse which only crushed it more. it was cruel. cruel but deserving considering the circumstances.

the curse’s body was retracting upon itself with no way out. a loud and piercing cry followed the sound of the wall being crushed under the weight of the infinity. the only thing you found the strength to mumble under your breath was your boyfriend’s name.

after a few seconds, black smoke emanated from the crushed bricked wall with no curses in sight. no remains, nothing. your heavy breath filled the air as satoru finally sighted. you could barely see his eyes when he turned to you, crouching down at your height.

his violence had surprised you, but you were so relieved. tears ran down your cheeks when you tried to speak. you tried to reach for satoru when he crouched but he was quicker and wrapped one arm around your back and another supporting the back of your head. he held you close and it made you feel at home. his scent and touch reassured you when you buried your head in his neck.

still silent, he held you tightly close to his chest. his hand threaded your hair, a slight pressure applied so he could make sure you were okay. you could feel all his anger slowly fade when you returned the gesture with one hand against his chest. your tears slowly fading as you felt the warmth of satoru around your body.

“satoru..”

he shushed you. always pulling you closer and closer to him. he wasn’t going to leave this time. he’d never let you endure something like this ever again.

“i’m right here. you’re safe. lend me your pain, baby. i’ll carry you the rest of the way.” he whispered into your ear, caressing your back so that you’d warm up to his touch. you could feel he was slowly coming back to being the satoru you knew.

you were safe in his arms but guilt still ran deep inside of him. he promised to take you to shoko as soon as possible, resting by your side until you were completely healthy. he also promised himself to assign you with an escort when he couldn’t be here to protect you.

satoru’s only concern was you and he’d never let anything get in the way of your well-being ever again. if he had to show every curse on this earth that he’d destroy them if they ever tried to get near you, he’d have no hesitation in doing so. you were safe. you knew it, now.

kento nanami

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you were the most important person for nanami. his one and only. his love, his soul, his heart. he would’ve resigned in an instant if you hadn’t begged him to keep his job as a sorcerer. but knowing his personal feelings about loss, you knew it’d break him if something came to happen to you. that is precisely why you always acted cautiously, never putting yourself in harm's way and living your life as safely as you could. unfortunately, this time, your efforts had been in vain.

when he saw you, helplessly struggling at the mercy of a first-grade curse wrapped around your throat, all he could think about was how much he regretted not having taken a safer job and bought you that house you both talked about so much on a beach in malaysia.

he knew he needed to act quickly or the curse would finish you off as easily as it had taken you hostage.

you wiggled your feet when it lifted you off the ground, hands desperately scratching and holding onto his grasp so he’d let go of his claws around your throat. you could feel kento’s eyes on you but couldn’t even dare to look at him or do anything else than push against the claws so they wouldn’t crush your neck further.

therefore, you couldn’t see him remove his tie, wrapping it tightly around his knuckles. he knew he couldn’t use a weapon, scared that the curse would use you as a shield. his fists were more precise and his sword wasn’t enough to unleash the rage he had built up inside.

he slowly made his way to the curse but, with every step, its hold crushed you more. you were so scared, almost out of breath with tears rolling down your cheeks. these cheeks kento had kissed so many times to take away your pain. you were hoping he’d do it once more.

once he realized that the threatening stance he was in only alarmed the curse, kento stood down, lowering his curse energy’s flow to an almost invisible state. he made himself look harmless in the face of the monster which slowly but surely helped you to breathe better.

you knew your husband. you had heard it several times from yuji and Ino and you also personally knew that he always handled things the right way. this is was kept you from breaking down and letting go of your almost meaningless fight against the curse’s strength. you had never doubted him and you wouldn’t now. he built his strength with yours. that’s what kento had told you the day he had asked for your hand.

his eyes were locked with your struggling gaze. despite him trying to contain himself, his veins stood out from how tightly he clenched his fists. he would’ve massacred the curse right here and now if it hadn’t cowardly taken you hostage. nanami might have seemed harmless in the moment but his anger was apparent.

without thinking much about it, he threw his sword aside, lifting his hands above to show complete surrender to the curse.

“let her go.”

the furious and deep voice of your husband made you whine, finally hearing a sign from him. unfortunately you could feel that the curse was still hesitating. the clinging of the sword on the ground had startled it which only showed kento how weak it really was. it also showed that it did not want to fight but preferred to flee.

this strange demeanor encouraged kento to step closer, hands still in the air, and that’s when he saw his opening. the curse was looking left and right to find an escape which diminished his attention and loosened his grip around your throat. it lasted just a few seconds but it was enough for you to breathe out his name.

“kento..”

that’s when he drew his fist and used all of his force and cursed energy to deliver a devastating blow right into the curse spirit’s face. it was sent flying several meters away after dropping you so kento could easily catch you and keep you from hitting the ground, arms wrapped around your body.

it only took one hit. one punch to obliterate half of the curse’s body in pieces. the shock had been so violent that your savior’s knuckles bled on your shirt through his yellow tie.

“mine.”

you could feel his heavy breath against your neck when he got on one knee, holding you against him, a hand carefully placed on your cheek. his thumb caressing your skin and whipping the single tear you shed.

“my love..”

kento’s expression had returned to the one you knew. the calm but stoic gaze he wore returned your breath to a normal pace. his arms pulled you always closer to him and he felt his sense come back when your fingers brushed the hand he had placed on your shoulder. you couldn’t talk or you’d burst into tears so you smiled in admiration.

he placed his warm lips upon your forehead and you could feel how scared he had been, maybe even more scared than you. his eyes were stuck on your finger, the one that wore his ring.

losing haibara had crushed his soul to tiny little pieces and you had been the one to delicately put them all back together with your innocent kindness and understanding. he’d be damned if he was to let something happen to the one who saved his heart.

this was the first and last time your life had been threatened, thanks to the careful supervision of kento but also his promise to quit his job and buy that house. he hadn’t realized how much he already had with you and would curse anybody who tried to take his happiness away from him ever again.

suguru geto

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you trusted him. you trusted that, if you were in pain, suguru would find ways to eradicate that pain. you trusted that if you showed any sign of distress, he’d be by your side helping you in any way he could. most importantly, you trusted that he’d protect you no matter the cost and no matter the consequences, because he was devoted to you. if there was something he’d burn the whole world for, it’d be you.

these men, these humans, these pathetic monkeys that had attacked you on your way home never knew what would come for them. you were beaten and almost lifeless when the men started searching for any kind of money or jewelry you had on your person. of course, you had resisted. that’s the only thing you could do, because you were so scared that if you had willingly complied to their demand they would’ve asked for more.

being helpless was scary. you thought it wouldn’t be so scary with suguru by your side, but right now you had never been more terrified. you also knew that your boyfriend would never forgive the men that harmed you, so the only thing you could do was wait. because you did not doubt him. you never doubted him. you knew he’d come for you.

when the men had finished checking your bags and any belongings you had on your person, one approached you, lifting your chin with a vulgar smile. you couldn’t even look at him in the eyes but hit bullseye when you spat directly in his face making him drop you in anger. he cursed under his breath before tightly grabbing you by the collar. a hand in the air so it’d land on your face.

with a weak and desperate groan you turned your face away but was surprised when the slap never landed.

when you reopened your eyes to look at your aggressor, he had his own hands wrapped his throat. it’s like he was struggling to breath, a firm pressure was crushing his neck as he tried to break free from this invisible hold.

when you realized what might be happening you tried to take a peak at the other men who were all struggling with the same problem. scratching and screaming at the invisible menace that were preventing them from breathing.

under the distressed shoutings, a cocky laugh attracted your gaze. when you turned to look at the source, your face lit up at the sight of suguru. but he didn’t look as relieved as you were. his laugh was dark, almost cynical. it was psychotic and displeased.

you had seen him despise simple-minded humans before but killing them was a different story. he wasn’t only taking their lives, he was torturing them. their necks were getting slowly squashed by the curses he had sent on them.

seeing you struggle to breath, helpless at the hand of those who had harmed an innocent girl like you. his girl. it had awaken another kind of hatred in him. a hatred that had been buried deep for so long.

suguru took one good look at you, searching for your eyes but you were incapable of keeping them open. you were just glad your boyfriend had arrived. you knew you were safe when you rested your eyes, a small smile of satisfaction drawn on your lips.

when he concentrated his gaze back on the man that had touched you, he crouched in front of him, getting to his level before taking over the curse and wrapping his hand around the stranger’s neck. tormenting him and taking the air away from him. suguru tightened his grip, his smile fading when he brought the man closer and closer towards death.

“so you think you can just harm her and get away with it?”

the man was hissing swears as small cries of help escaped his bloody lips. his face was swollen and breaking down under suguru’s hold and his watering eyes looked like they would pop out of their socket sooner or later. that’s how tight he held the man.

“pathetic.”

he fed on their cries. helplessly calling out for help, the men only fueled his rage with their insufferable sounds. the sorcerer remembered every time he had felt an ounce of empathy for these beings in the past and regretted every actions he had done to protect them when he saw your wounded state. what they had done was inexcusable and no amount of pain would be enough to atone for it.

after a while, resigned, your offender chocked out a weak apology. but as he did, all the bones in his body instantly broke under another a new kind of pressure coming from yet another curse suguru had unleashed upon him. so now he laid there, between your boyfriend’s compressed clutch. dead.

after a few seconds he dropped the body on the ground like garbage waste and walked to you, passing by the other men that were struggling to breath. he pushed the first one aside with his foot, throwing one on the ground, creating a path for him to walk to you.

“move. i’ve come to take what’s mine.”

on suguru’s command, two snaps followed when the curses broke the other men’s necks before they fell on the floor. three lifeless corpses were now scattered in front of both of you, and as soon as he made sure those stupide monkeys had payed for what they had done, he joined you.

when he leaned towards you, his hand grazed yours, wrapping it with his own in a warm grip. his eyes searched for yours, lifting your chin with his thumb before running it along your jaw, making comforting circles on your cheek.

“are you alright, my love? can you walk?”

suguru’s tone was calmer than before. his eyes never left yours when he wiped one of your tears. his comforting smile reassured you and you nodded at his question, holding onto his wrist when he helped you up, closing the distance between the two of you.

you could hear his calm heartbeat when you leaned against his chest, hiding between his arms and you wondered how he could be so tranquil after killing these men so easily. little did you know the only thing he felt was rage. he knew he was right to despise these inferior beings that had harmed the only important thing that mattered.

he could’ve burned the world for you.

toji fushiguro

₊˚⊹ ᰔ toji fushiguro was an asshole. a first-class asshole. you guys had slept together left and right and he always left first. you had no expectations regarding the man. no doubt that you were replaceable. he didn’t open up much and never talked about his work which didn’t alarm you much considering toji’s character.

basically, emotionally and personally speaking, you two weren’t close. that’s why, when two strangers raided your apartment, screaming fushiguro’s name in anger, you wondered why you had accepted to sleep with a man with a secret and violent past.

your furniture was on the floor and the men had destroyed most of your electronics so you had no way to call for help. one was guarding the door while the other took care of questioning you. it had something to do with a bet and broken promises. of course, money had to be involved, otherwise, why would they be threatening the girl he had slept with once or twice to know of his whereabouts?

tied to a chair, almost unconscious, he had been covering you with bruises and scratches using anything that he could find but you still gave him the same answer. you had no idea where toji was as he never kept contact with you. he was always the one that came to you. and if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t expect him to come save you anytime soon.

after a while, when the man realized he might not easily get an answer out of you, he reached in his back, pulling out a pistol from the edge of his pants. at the sight of the gun, your heart shattered. that was it for you, you thought. you couldn’t get out of this mess and you would die convinced toji was out there somewhere, probably getting rich and fucking naive girls like you.

you couldn’t even talk anymore, your head was hanging in front of you, blood dripping from your mouth to your thighs. you didn’t know if you’d last long, your vision was blurry and you felt yourself chasing the dark tunnel that clouded your eyesight.

you could hear faint words of command when your chin was lifted with the cold metallic canon of the pistol. the man had your life between his hands. you knew he’d pull the trigger if he eventually realized you couldn’t give him any information he needed. you knew he would kill you. it was so easy and you were pissing him off.

your eyes never left his nervous figure which only frustrated him more and, out of instinct, he slapped you with the handle of the pistol, almost knocking the air out of you. your jaw was broken and tears were flooding your eyes when the blow forced you to look away.

but as he pulled his arm up, preparing for another strike, he seemed to stop in his movement, startled by something behind him. sounds of struggles and a broken door were heard when he shifted his gaze entirely towards the front of your apartment. his accomplice had disappeared which alerted the man and made him call out to him.

several seconds and unanswered calls later, on his guard, the armed stranger decided to go take a look. as soon as he took a step towards the broken piece of wood that was left, a corpse dropped to his feet.

it was the other man, and he seemed to have been brutally murdered from the back, a hole at his heart’s level revealed the level of violence he had endured which left the man panicked and distressed. sweat was covering his forehead when he tried to peak out the door, fingers trembling against the handle and trigger.

unfortunately for him, a tall and broad shadow quickly covered him, before a shot came off. one single gunshot followed by a loud thud.

you could barely make up the identity of the person who had saved you with your weak sight, but his odour was enough for you to distinguish the man clearly. he always smelled the same.

toji was here. he was standing in the doorway, a tight grip around his gun and a grin covering his scarred lips. “can’t believe they send these weaklings to come after me.”

he carefully stepped between the cadavers, examining the poor state of your apartment and their lifeless bodies before his gaze shifted to you. a quick exchange was enough for you to sigh in relief and let yourself relax to an unconscious state.

despite himself, he did feel an ounce of guilt when he took a good look at you. his mistakes had almost gotten you killed. he couldn’t have imagined how he would’ve felt if he had arrived too late. the blood on your face, the broken jaw and the many scars were revealed by the moonlight passing through the door. the cold air misplaced your hair for toji to see tears strolling down your face.

his grin faded as he stood still in front of you and the mess he had made. his grip had loosened around the gun but he slowly moved the canon towards the second man he had killed. without hesitation, he emptied his clip through the culprit’s head, a look of contempt and disgust plastered on his face.

“tsk.. you just had to go and get yourself noticed, hm?” he said, now focused only on you.

thanks to toji, you were safe now. and you had silently thanked him for coming back for you.

carrying you bridal style as you laid there now unconscious but safe in his arms, he placed his thumb against your jaw, tilting your head to get a proper look at you. even now, you were so beautifully calm and your cheeks wore a pink tint, probably because of the cold, which only accentuated your beauty and innocence.

with a sigh, like it weighed on his conscience, toji murmured. “guess someone’s gonna have to take care of you, from now on.”

but the truth was far from what it appeared to be. saving you that night had just brought the man closer to the conclusion that he cherished you more than he thought he did. you weighed on his conscience like a guilty obsession which he could only nourish by spending more time by your side.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[slasherscream]

my girl can wear whatever she wants tiers please for crazy ass boys gang!!!

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + MY GIRL CAN WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS TIERS

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight ❥

Billy Loomis - When you look particularly good his arm might as well be glued to your waist. He's both possessive and protective. He hates the way everyone's eyes devour you, but can't help how prideful it makes him either. Yeah, you want her. Of course you want her. Everyone does. But only I have her. God help the idiot that's stupid enough to open their mouth and not just look.

Jordan Li - They love watching you put your outfits together. They make suggestions from your bed, glancing up at you every few minutes. They can't help it. Their eyes are drawn to you permanently. No matter how crowded the room they can find you in a second. Whenever there's a party Jordan loves watching everyone try to sneak quick glances at you. They jump like rabbits when they wind up meeting Jordan's eyes and watch that smile that Jordan only wears around you fall back into the usual scowl. No one wants to be caught staring at Jordan's girl.

Arvin Russell - It's not possible for you to feel fear in public when you're with Arvin. You could be wearing straight lingerie in the most dangerous city in the world at 2 am and be safe. He's not just ready to protect you but hungry for it. Every time he proves he'll fight till his knuckles are bloody and bruised over you he watches you walk a little more confidently. Shine a little brighter. Knowing that he's there to protect you has only made you more yourself every day. And Arvin? He's obsessed with the transformation that the safety net of his fierce protection has ignited within you.

Jason Dean/JD - You wish he'd only fight people over what you're wearing. Unfortunately, this is not the case. JD pulls out a gun. Not every time, granted. Just a large majority of the time. In his defense, how is he supposed to act when someone has the audacity to cat call you? Do you expect him to just watch and not care as you experience that brief shiver of fear that runs up your spine when a man whistles at you before following it up with even more salacious words? If you feel fear, he'll make them feel fear. Simple.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - If someone is stupid enough to not recognize him before they say anything to you about what you're wearing they will quickly recognize the tentacle wrapped around their throat. "Apologize." He hisses through gritted teeth, increasing the pressure, knowing just how much strength he can use before it would break their neck. How he ever expects anyone to apologize to you with a giant tentacle wrapped around their wind pipe you don't know. This is the second time this month. You're running out of night clubs you're not banned from.

David Mccall - You walk out of the house with the confidence that only someone who's done 12 tours over seas should have. But no, you just have a boyfriend who is incredibly scary. You've watched him almost break a man's hand for brushing it against yours at a crowded bar while he reached for his drink. You don't even think before you throw on an outfit anymore.

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want because she a hoe and I knew that before we started dating ❥

Josh Washington - Could he fuck someone up if needed? Yes, but he feels no need to. As long as you're not in danger or being disrespected Josh loves the way you express yourself through your look. You're hot and beautiful, of course you wear stuff that's short or tight, or both. If he looked like you he'd do the same thing. People don't usually say anything to you anyways, since he's always pressed to you like a second skin. He's not a jealous guy, but he is a chronic clinger.

Stu Macher - Is probably the person wolf whistling you in the first place. Points at you from across the room when you're talking to other people and says, "That's my girl right there. She's smoking, right?" He will always be smug he pulled you and NEVER shut up about it. The more wild you dress the more smug he gets. People can look all they want. But you only want him. What's there not to brag about?

Kevin Khatchadourian - Kevin above anyone else would thoroughly understand your psyche before dating you. He's involved with you because, somehow, you intrigued him against all odds. He already expected and predicted with near perfect accuracy every step of the relationship. Skimpy outfits are not throwing him. Can he fight? Yes. But, frankly, if someone pisses him off by hitting on you swinging on them is not gonna satisfy him. He's more of a "put their fingerprints at a crime scene so their life is ruined" type of get back. If he decides not to kill them.

Sebastian Valmont - Sebastian is the one buying you more hoe clothes. He loves your style and is not insecure. If either of you wanted someone else, you could go get them. But you two were practically made for each other. He wants to show you off. Is never going to be the type to try and dull your shine. He wants to walk into a room with you and have jaws drop from the deadly combination of the way you look together. He thrives off of seeing how much people want you. Knowing how futile it is. How hopeless. He pulls you tight into his side and grins like the devil himself (also, and this knowledge is of utmost importance, he cannot fight for shit.)

❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cus I’m scared of her ❥

Nathan Prescott - Is possessive, jealous and insecure enough to absolutely want you to change what you're wearing. With anyone else he'd even be bold enough to tell them to change. You are not anyone else, though. You are you. Considering every other behavior you tolerate from Nathan on a monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly basis you would snap on him like a twig if he tried to bring one more red flag on board. He knows this. You know this. When you slide on your low rise jeans and the tiniest crop top known to man, you make eye contact with one another in the mirror. He looks away first. You go back to peacefully fixing up your hair. Upside, no one is crazy enough to actually hit on you when you're at parties held on campus together. Which means Nathan won't have the cops called on him. Hooray!

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Hiii,

By any chance can you write academic rivals for either Ellie or Abby?? It doesn’t have to have smut but I just need some angst and tension >:)

YES OFC I CAN?! chat idk how to write Abby to the point where it’s accurate so I’ll stick to Ellie (for now). And uhh this is my first time writing this trope cus ive lowkey never really liked it 😕 BUT I HOPE YOU DO!! Also, I hope its not too long 4 u 😇

Paper Thin Hatred

Ellie Williams x FEMALE Reader || Academic Rivals (fluff)

You’re going in blind, no summary needed.

Warning(s): Sexual tension; making out, mentions of drugs and violence (though it’s not described). Use of y/n like once. (blehh).

A/N: I tried my best gn. If you see any mistakes, no you didnt. I’m not the best at writing angst, i hate sad stuff, so Idk if I did a good job lol.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You hated her.

Hated how effortlessly smart she was, able to ace every test without the need to lay even a finger on her notes. How she could easily attract everyone and anyone with a single look. How every teacher in your school had this.. bias on her. She was the exception, the favourite. It was unfair and stupid.

No matter how hard you tried, how hard you worked, it was never enough to pass her. There was nothing you could do. Study? Already tried it, ended up two points off from her perfect hundred percentage. Tutoring? Done, but it was never efficient and only wasted the little time you had after school. You had tried everything. But you still came no where near where she was.

Ever since the first grade, you’d been competing with her, butting heads on every test, every assignment, and even every small quizz. From announcing your test scores to the class after realizing you’d topped her to keeping them a secret after finding out you scored lower than her, you’d grown to despise her.

This girl, who you despised, was Ellie Williams, the top student at your school. She was, also, a dickhead to everyone else but her teachers and, surprisingly, you. She’d never think to uttered an insult in your direction, let alone bring your name up in her shit talking sessions. Even so, she was still a stuck-up brat. Thinking she was better than everyone else, demanding respect and attention.

But, even with all these reasons you hate her for, you couldn’t help but admire her carefree spirit. Holding a blunt in the bathroom and smoking it through with her group of friends. Who all, by the way, were assholes. Bullies, to be frank. You didn’t understand why Ellie hung out with a bunch of losers when she could easily make friends with someone like her, someone as smart and collected. She didn’t care. And, sometimes, you wished you didn’t either. The two of you were opposites. You wanted to forget about the grudge you’d been holding against her but you just.. couldn’t. Not when you your competitive nature shook it’s ugly head everytime you were near the auburn girl.

You cared too much, you couldn’t just flip a switch and change that?

It was none of your business, is what you’d tell yourself everytime you found your thoughts wandering off to her. And, either way, having her hang out with those kinds of people meant she would be sure to slack off. Peer pressure was a real deal, and you silently wished it’d throw Ellie down from the title of being the school’s number one student.

You were practically praying for it.

⊹₊⟡⋆

With a push on the doors, you enter the library. Backpack over your shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, you look for a good place to sit. Choosing an empty corner, you got to work; Pages flipping, pen writing, and keys typing, you were almost finished with an essay of yours.

That was, until Williams showed up. A strong push on the doors you’d just came from, she confidently walked in with her hands in her pockets. She looked around to find herself, and the crowd of fans behind her, a seat. Fans, as in her loser friends. They only hung out with her because she was relevant. And she only hung out with them for free cigarettes, weed, and whatever the hell she had going on. She wore a dark blue hoodie with her usual grey sweatpants. As confident as she was, she looked fucking homeless; even though you found yourself raked over her figure.

She was lean, well built, and, clearly, visited the gym frequently. You’d never seen her flex though, only on her social media did she show off those biceps of her. Not that you cared.

When Ellie’s green eyes spotted you, she let out a devilish grin before walking over to you. Her friend group followed behind like a bunch of dogs.

“Hey, sweet thing.” Leaning a hand on your table she played with one of your pens. Without hesitation, you snatched it from her hand and gave her the dirtiest look on the face of earth. “What do you want? You know the library isn’t for fucking around, right?” With your voice as hostile as ever, all you wanted was for Ellie to fuck off. More so her friends. “I’m whispering.” She was, matter of fact she was being pretty respectful. Quiet and polite, yet so bold and confident. It pissed you off. Everything the bitch did had your blood boiling. “Anyways, what are you up to? Saw you all by yourself, need some company?” She was mocking you, evident in the way she looked down at you. As if to keep you in your place. You wanted to shove a fist in her smug little face. “I’m good.”

No way Ellie would listen to you. So, with a motion to her friends she pulled a chair beside you and sat down. Her sorry-ass friend-group walked away with a bitter chuckle. How unlucky could you get? Legs spread with her arms inbetween them she gave you a smile. Her eyes roamed over your form and then the table infront of you. Everything was neatly organized, perfectly arranged. “Need help with that essay? Or ya’ just gonna be stubborn?” You chose being stubborn. “I don’t need your help, nor do I need you to be near me.” Turning your attention back to the computer, you hoped she’d just get bored and leave. But it seemed like your annoyance only fueled her amusement, because she couldn’t keep herself from leaning closer and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Stay still.”

Like hell you would. Recoiling, you sigh in frustration. “Why the—“ An arm interrupted and pulled you back into position and she, again, rested her chin on your shoulder. Ellie was fucking strong. And, you’d only just now realized the physical power she had over you. She not only had the smarts, but she had the body. God damn it, she was better than you at everything. “Let me help.” Who the hell did she think she was? Helping you? Just because she aced every test? That didn’t mean shit. She had no right to tell you what to do, make you do what she wanted you to. Clenching your jaw, you faught the urge to push her off you and instead opted for a less obnoxious way to escape; to leave.

“I don’t need your help, like I said before I’m good.” Shrugging her off of you, you stuff everything back into your backpack with organization being the last thing on your mind. “I was trying to be nice, why the hell are you so damn stuck-up?” Scoffing and leaning back against her chair, the auburn haired girl crossed her arms and looked you up and down. The quiet action had your nerves on edge, causing a fire of insecurity to spread through your body.

She’s judging you, probably thinks you’re stupid. Maybe even thinks you’re overreacting. Is it your body she’s quietly examining or your mind? Is she noticing the curves or the faults of your figure? Either way, you needed to get the fuck out of there.

Without a word, you pull your backpack over a shoulder and bolt towards the door. The door that looked heavenly as you pushed it open. The outside air felt so much better, so much more comfortable. Your body wasn’t tense anymore, nor was your breathing shaky and stiff. The cool breeze entered your nose and you took your time to relax. Just when you were beginning to cool down, you hear this agitating voice from behind.

“Will you listen?!” You felt a tug at your wrist in which you were turned you around to face Ellie. Who was now infront of you with furrowed brows, a narrowing gaze, and that.. look on her face. The subtle expression she had was too difficult to decipher, so you gave up on even bothering to put energy into her. Especially right now. She was staring down at you, probably trying to coax out a response. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off, alright? I just..” Your heart felt like it could practically jump out your chest the more she stood there. So close yet so far. “I didn’t think you’d get mad. I.. I’m sorry for being all up in your space.” Maybe her apology was your last straw because the next thing that came out your mouth left her feeling rejected— as you’d describe it.

“You think walking around with straight A’s makes you all that?” Your furrowed brows meet her, now, raised ones, she looks confused. “I don’t give a damn about how you feel, never have never will. You’re some stuck-up wannabe and I’d rather stay the hell away from you. Got that, Williams?” You were speaking your truth, telling her what you’d been wanting to since the day you first met her. “I don’t need anything from you. I’m fine by myself.” The hostility in your words made Ellie take a step back, her expression showing just how surprised she was. The tension was thick in the cool autumn air. The breeze blew past you and you had to force yourself to meet her eyes— Her eyes that has this look of disappointment within them. Why? You wanted to ask. But, then again, you didn’t really care.

“Yeah. Alright.” Was her response, her voice quiet and low as she looked down and fidgeted with her two hands. Intertwining her fingers, picking on her nails, and even squeezing her thumb. Her jaw clenched and she averted you completely. “I’m sorry..”

You’d just bruised her ego.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The week before spring break, you were in class worrying your pretty ass off about all the busy work your teachers had given you. You’re talkin’ stacks of assignments and essays. Videos to watch, quizzes to answer, and books to read. With a sigh of exhaustion, you wait impatiently for class to begin. It was a typical monday, everyone was sleep deprived and already knocked out with their heads on their desks. It was a depressing sight.

But, one thing that was nagging at you all weekend was Ellie. Ironic or not, you had a heavy heart ever since you walked away from her that friday afternoon. The way she looked down, her brows furrowed with embarrassment, and her hands fidgeting with one another. The moment replayed in your head every night, causing you to loose focus on sleep and studying. Since when had you been so soft?

You hated her. So why would you feel bad? Especially after she practically mocked you because, apparently, she knows it all.

You shake the freckled girl out of your mind and focus on the lecture as class began. Weirdly enough, Ellie wasn’t present. She never missed a day of school. Was she skipping? Probably out smoking with her friends, or even snorting god knows what up her nose. You couldn’t care less, especially when you now had the advantage of attending the lecture. You were learning a new unit and were now ahead of Ellie. It was perfect. Too perfect. —

Class had ended and you were packing yourself up before your professor approached your desk. Papers in his hand, she placed them down infront of you. You looked down to find the notes from today printed onto them, they were neatly organized and well prepared. Your professor had reallyyy had made sure to make it look good.

This was an example of how being favoured benefited the stuck-up, freckled girl you called Ellie.

“Hey, y/n, would you mind handing today’s notes to Ellie?” The tall, blond, middle aged man gave you a smile. “I know you two share dorms in the same building.”

Why was that your problem? It was her job to make sure she attended class, why the hell were you chosen to do such a task? But, you couldn’t say no to your professor, not when he clearly favorited Ellie.

“No, I don’t mind. But, uhm.. what room is she in?” Your luck was so sore that you wished you’d skipped class yourself.

“Dorm four-o-eight.” He patted the papers before stuffing his hands in the pocket of her pants and walking back to the front of class.

Sometimes, you swore the universe was working overtime to make you suffer. Punish you for whatever you’d done in your past life. You never understood why you and Ellie always, somehow, ended up in the same classes, same hallways— Hell, the two you saw each other everywhere. Malls? Restaurants? It was like you were being followed.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

With a loud knock, you awkwardly wait infront of Ellie’s dorm room. It felt weird standing there, mostly because of the argument you had with her a few days back. What would you even say to her? Would she even open the door? Maybe she’d shut it in your face to get back at you. All you knew was that you a task; give her the notes from class and leave. It’s not anything would go wrong, right?

The door clicked unlocked and Ellie swung it open. You were greeted with her tired expression. She stood tall, a hand on the door knob with the other scratching the back of her head. She wore a tanktop and this was the first time you’d seen her muscles. Of course, without realizing it, your eyes were practically glued to them. They were toned and stood out like a sore thumb. For a second, you wondered what else she was hiding under that tank of hers. She looked.. pretty attractive and you’d be lying if you said she didn’t. No wonder almost every girl was fanning over the 5’6 nerdy auburn.

Snapping out of your trance you meet her gaze and notice the bruise on her left eye. It was purple with a hint red. And, it definitely looked like it hurt. Did she really get into a fight? You called it. Maybe with one of her friends. Or because of her friends. That’s probably why she wasn’t in class— Either way, all you needed to do was hand her the notes and leave.

Holding out the stack of papers, you met her green eyes before she grabbed it from your hands. Her fingers, seemingly intentionally, brushed against yours for a brief moment. She flashed a smug grin as she read over it and shook her head with amusement. “Notes, huh? You makin’ sure I’m caught up, princess?” How the hell was she so.. playful after that argument, especially after that fat black eye. Did she even care? My god, was she even bothered as much as you were?

“Mr. Nunez told me to give them to you. It was against my will.” You corrected, hands dropping to your side, you turn your head to find an appropriate way to leave. Ellie, somehow, caught onto that, “Hey, you wanna come inside? I uh.. I wanted to.. talk to you. I guess?” The freckled girl, shrugging with a sheepish expression, stepped asife and motioned for you come in. The invitation was friendly, but the sight of her fucked up room made you rethink your decision. Clothes everywhere, clouded air, probably from smoking, and.. were those her fucking boxers hanging from her bed frame?!

“Ignore the mess, I’ve been.. a bit busy.” Yeah, she looked busy with that fucked up eye of hers. You took a second to think. It wouldn’t hurt, right? Plus, you’d get to see her “secret” to being the top student. Was it the way she studied? Did she cheat?

“Fine. But I’m not staying for long.” Oh, you’d be leaving the second Ellie let slip something even close to condescending. You weren’t having it with her anymore, not when she acted like royalty.

Entering her dorm, you plop yourself down onto her bed. Staying away from her clothes, which you were sure smelled, your hands stayed in your lap. You looked around, as Ellie placed the notes down onto a nearby surface, raking over the candid photos on her wall, the trinkets on her desk, and the collection of gum wrappers stamped on her dresser. She had a life, a fun one at that. But, you spotted no sign of school work.

You hadn’t realized she was sat beside you, her hands fidgeting with the strings of her pajamas shorts as she looked down. “On.. friday.” Ellie began, clearing her throat before taking a second to collect her breath; which was shaky. “I genuinely wasn’t trying to make you mad. I’m not as.. stuck-up as you think I am, I really wanted to help. Considering I’ve never even.. uhm had a proper conversation with you? I thought I’d be nice and do something good.” She shrugged out her explanation, and it make sense. You were even considering it. She looked genuine enough, maybe she was telling the truth. But the hate in you only made you see the bad.

What was the “bad” in the current situation? You didn’t really know.

“I know you.. have this grudge against me. You hate me. And, I don’t really know why.” The hint of vulnerability in her tone had your walls came crumbling down. Maybe you were naive for it but you shake your head and furrow your brows. “Hate is a strong word..” And its exactly how you had described your feelings towards Ellie since the day you two had met. “Maybe I’m just.. jealous.” Why were you being honest? You didn’t really know. You seemed to know absolutely nothing when it came to the auburn haired girl. Everytime you opened your mouth your thoughts immediately began slipping from your mouth. “You get good grades without even trying. I mean, all you do is smoke and.. fuck around.”

All you got in response with a scoff and a soft, “is that what you think?” What else were you supposed to think? “Well, I guess I do smoke. But I study. Not as hard as you, of course, but I do my best and.. well, I guess it pays off.” Leaning back on her arms, she gave you a smile. “Your anger’s justified, I don’t blame you, Princess.” And right when you were about to give her a smile back, though it’d be an awkward one, you watch as her hand shifted to resting ontop of yours.

She was making a move on you.

Flinching at the touch, you pull your hand away with an averting gaze. Was this what she wanted this whole time?

“Sorry.” Ellie shifted to pull away from you, giving you space on the bed. Your heart was racing at the small touch, not to mention you were so damn close to her. Your thighs were a shift away from touching and you suddenly felt hot. The room held a loud silence, a piercing one at that. It was awkward, uncomfortable. Both of you waited for eachother to say something, to utter a word and lighten the mood.

“I’ve always found you.. interesting.” Ellie chose to step up, placing her hand on your thigh and swallowing her nervousness down. “You’re smart, y’know? Even though you’re extra sometimes, I’ve always.. wanted your attention on me.”

For a second, you took a second to process her words, process the hand on your thigh. Her? Ellie Williams? Interested in you?

“If I’m being honest, I don’t even care about school, nor do I give a damn about my grades. I just.. ever since I realized you noticed me whenever I get a better grade than you.. I guess that’s been my goal. I don’t care about the stupid assignments, the fuckass tests, all I seem to want is for you to just.. look at me.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. What was the hell is going on? Is she confessing some sort of.. love for you? Did she like you? Why the hell would she like you?

You couldn’t keep your reaction in check. You held your breath in shock, unable to really.. think of something to say. You felt stuck, unable to move and unable to say anything that would make the situation better. It’s like everything you thought of only seemed to make the situation.. more awkward and complicated.

After a good second of just staring at her, you clear the lump from your dry throat and try not to focus on the hand resting on your thigh. She was getting real bold, and it made you nervous. “I uhm.. that’s.. Ellie, that’s a lot to.. process..”— “So don’t.” So don’t? What in the world was this bitch on? Molly? “I’m being completely honest. Kiss me. If you like it then.. then things won’t be as complicated anymore. You’ll know—“ “Kiss you? Are you.. high or something?” Green eyes widening, you assumed her confidence was bruised by the way she slumped down and flickered her eyes away. You didn’t need her being all upset, she had no reason to be. “I’m not high.. I’m being honest. Can you really not tell?”

No, you couldn’t!

“Ellie.. that’s an insane thing to.”— “Just once won’t kill you. It’s a kiss. One simpe press on the lips.” First of all, where did this even come from? The whole kissing thing? And.. why did she have that fat bruise on her eye? Sighing, you pinch the bridge of your nose. The hell were you supposed to do? Negotiation always worked? There was no way you could kiss her, you hated her. All your life you’ve only wanted one thing; to was crush her. But, knowing all she’d ever wanted was.. well, your attention.. it had you sort of baffled. How could that be possible, seriously?

“What happened to your eye?” You avoided the subject of kissing, knowing you’d probably give up and let her do whatever she wanted to. Now, you were expecting a simple answer. Straightforward and easy to understand. You were tired of thinking.

“I beat up a kid for.. uhm, well.. talking about you?” She shrugged out, averting your gaze with a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “It’s stupid, I know. But, it didn’t happen in school so I’m not like.. suspended or.. something.” She took a second to clear her throat, “and, I didn’t wanna come to class with this fat thing around my eye.”

It was beyond stupid. Completely insane! Maybe all that smoking really had fucked up that brain of hers. It was the fact that she’d done it for you that had you taken aback. She had no reason to defend you after you’d practically told her to fuck off. Not to mention the fact that she knew you hated her. It didn’t make sense. But, maybe that black eye was enough proof that she actually might care. Actually might like you. But, could you really be sure? What if she was lying and all of this was just some sick prank?

You tilt your head to get a better look at her eye as it seemed like it was beginning to swell. “Right.. and uh, what was that kid saying?” Your question wasn’t a hard one, not for anyone but Ellie. Ellie who seemed to be struggling to find her words. Her fidgeting fingers gave it all away, not to mention her averting gaze.

It was.. sort of cute.

“Just how you were—.. I don’t wanna think about it.” She was, clearly, still bothered by the incident. She cared more about what some kid said about you than what you’d said about her. But, why? You seriously couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“Are you mad?” The green eyed girl gave you a glance before going back to fiddling with her fingers. Her hair covering most of her face as she had it down. “No, I don’t think so?” As truthful as your words were, they had you, yourself, confused. Why weren’t you mad? Usually, you’d blow up on her if she even tried talking to you. Maybe her confession had made you all mushy.

“I don’t get it, Ellie. You beat up a kid for me?” She raised her head and turned to yoy, her expression was clear then. Slightly furrowed brows with parted lips, she was still upset over the whole situation. She really must be with that bruised eye. You decided to drop the questions for now and shifted on her bed. “Can I get my kiss now?” By the time you’d leaned back against your two arms, Ellie had turned to face you. She had this look of determination and it, honest to god, had you considered her question.

“You’re not getting a kiss..”— “Alright, give me a good reason why.” Stubborn as hell. She’d never quit, you knew that. If she’d gone years just getting your attention what else could she have up her sleeve. It was just a kiss.. right? “For one, I’ve known you since the first grade. It’d be weird. Second of all, you’re Ellie. It just doesn’t make sense.” Kissing her would only cause complications, you didn’t need that. And, it’s not like you wanted a girlfriend, you had studying to do. “Those are all the reasons why you should kiss me. I don’t want some.. french kiss, just give me a press on the lips.” A small press on the lips was too much to ask for.

“What do I get in return?” Was your final question, knowing the right answer would probably lead to you making an irrational decision and kissing the girl you hated most. “Your feelings figured out. You want that, right? I’ll show you how you feel about me, please.” This bitch really was crazy. Pleading for a small kiss? She could have anyone else on the campas kiss her at an instant, so why was she asking you?

But, then again, you didn’t want to feel confused anymore. One small press on her lips as you could finally tell her you didn’t feel anything for her, then she could leave you alone. Without the need for your attention, Ellie would be sure to slack off and let her grades drop.

With a deep inhale, you lean closer. Your heart, somehow, was racing in your chest, almost going to jump out. You didn’t understand why but, your palms were suddenly sweaty and it was growing hotter in the room. The sight of Ellie staring at your lips had your mind going fuzzy, your throat goong dry. Her warm, calloused hand came to rest on your cheek as she finally pressed her lips against yours. Your mind probably went numb for a second because it took you a good while to process it all. She didn’t pull away after a peck on the lips and continued tapping kisses on your lips. It had your hands shaking, face warm, and eyes fluttering shut. She was a good kisser, the way her lips tasted, the way her thumb ran over your cheek, even the way her breath tickled your heated skin. She was damn charming and you couldn’t help but kiss back.

Before you knew it, the auburn haired girl’s hand had came to rest under your shirt and on your waist. She felt around your skin as her tongue entered your mouth and began exploring. Your stomach was fluttering like crazy, you could feel it flip everytime Ellie let slip a noise you’d never even thought you’d be able to hear. Not to mention the sound of the kiss, it was embarrassingly clumsy. Maybe because both of you were a nervous wreck. All you could think about was being in the moment, not what would happen after the kiss, not what you could do to get score higher than Ellie. Everything else seemed to disappear around you, leaving only you and the girl you were kissing relevant.

With a slight smile, she pulled away and made her way to your jaw. Placing open mouthed kisses there and, occasionally, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bit back a moan but it only backfired when she fully wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you against her chest. “I wanna hear it, Princess..” Oh, hear she did. Your lips couldn’t contain the lewd moans and whines that dared, and succeeded, to escape. They were, undoubtedly, music to Ellie’s ears. She was enjoying all of it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this..” She whispered inbetween marking you up, her hands roaming over the bare skin of your back with a hint of desperation. As if she wanted to feel all of you, have you skin-to-skin with her. “Ellie..” Was all you could really moan out, which had her flecked cheeks red. Completely and utterly red.

And, in that moment, you’d realized just how wrong you’d gotten Ellie. She was never competing against you, all she wanted was you. Sure, you still hated how effortlessly smart she was, but, to be frank, you were willing to let your walls crumble down. Her silent confidence made you completely and utterly weak, your hate was as paper thin when it came to her. She was able to crumple it up before easily tearing it down. With a few words Ellie was able to get you to melt into her. Into the kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate her as much anymore.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Hello! I just finished reading all your writing.. i feel like your characterisation of coop is just so good!

Lately i’ve been fixated on how Cooper would feel about a plus sized partner.. (definitely not just because I’m plus sized myself)

Part of me feels his postwar ghoul self would be feral (pardon the pun) for a woman with a soft squishy body, especially a soft tummy and ass he can sink his fingers into, because someone like that would be so rare in the wastelands, and because it would be so different to his own physique

(Anon, I have a secret to share with you before we even get into headcanon territory; I'm a size 14-16ish, myself, so I definitely relate. I try to keep my reader-insert characters as nondescript as is reasonable in order to keep them accessible, but honestly? Every single character I've ever written is fat, or at least midsized. I feel like my use of words like "soft" and "plush" to describe them, plus references to tummies and bellies, might expose me a bit on that front. Thanks for reading and thanks for the ask!)

Prewar!Cooper Howard just loves women in general, all shapes and sizes. Big fan. He appreciates the female form in every one of its many variations. Back home, he knew plenty of bigger girls, curvier girls, and dated several before he met and fell head over heels for Barb. Once the two of them move to California, there's a noticeable decline in the variation of body types around him, and while he finds the women around him beautiful as well, he also finds himself sort of missing the higher concentration of softer ladies.

After she gives birth to Janey, Barb is pretty self-conscious about her body, but Cooper is quick to reassure her that she is just as beautiful as she was before (even moreso to him since she's grown softer in such nice places, frankly, but he doesn't think that's a proper thing to say out loud). She experiences a lot of pressure to be conventionally thin in her role as an executive, and while he supports her ambitions and what she wants to do with herself, it makes him feel terrible to see her so down on her body sometimes when he loves her (and it) so much.

Post-divorce, I think that a bigger partner, especially someone comfortable in their looks, their personal style, would be a welcome change to him. Like I said in my response to the question about him with a partner with body hair, I think he'd enjoy being with someone who wasn't so "L.A. perfect"; more authentic, at least to him.

He really loves a soft belly on a woman, and it's a treat that's been denied to him for so long. Of course, his favorite place to cum is inside you in whatever form he can get it, but he also likes to spurt all over your breasts and tummy, the sight of the mess cooling on your skin enough to get him going again more often than not. It drives him doubly crazy if you play in it a bit.

Also likes a good tit fuck. Likes it even more if you've got big enough breasts to do it while you sit on the floor in front of him. Getting to smoke a cigarette and sit back and watch you jerk him off with your tits is high up on his list of favorite ways to relax after a stressful day, especially if you tease the head of his cock with your lips and tongue.

Finds big nipples/big areolas very sexy; if you've got either (and definitely if you've got both), you might end up having to fend him off of your chest every once in a while with as often as he'll like to suck and lick and nip the poor things until they're all puffy and sore.

Enjoys using his ability to still pick you up and toss you around as a way to show off to you. It makes him feel virile and strong, so I hope you don't mind a little manhandling from time to time...

The Ghoul is always very pleasantly surprised to see anyone with some substance to them, physically; it's not necessarily that fat or midsize people don't exist, but the incidence of folks who are malnourished, stunted, and emaciated has certainly increased as the centuries have crept by.

He has always been a fairly lean and wiry guy, and life has given him more and more hard edges, so he adores a plush partner; round face, full lips, soft overall features. Big, soft hair, even. It's such a fascinating contrast to himself, to everything around him. The Wasteland is so harsh and strips every last bit of life it can out of every last thing that inhabits it, so to see someone so vivacious and supple...you are spellbinding to him before he even gets to touch you, to say the least.

When he does get to touch you, he wants to be respectful, trying his hardest to control his urge to rip your clothes away and grip your supple skin in his bare hands. He's trying so hard to reconnect with the more tender, gentlemanly part of himself, if it even still exists. But you seemingly have no idea how wild you drive him, how badly he wants to pin you down and feel your warm, pliable form beneath his, kind and sweetly flirty as ever despite how thin his self control is wearing. It's not long before the feeling he's trying to ignore consumes you both and he becomes intimately familiar with just how soft your body really is.

The man already had a breeding kink long ago, but it comes back with a vengeance if he meets the right person. He already finds himself drawn to your wide hips and thick thighs, but once he's fallen for you, once he's decided that you're his and he wants you to be his forever, they take on a whole new light. All he can think about his how good those wide hips would feel in his hands as he pumps you full, how beautiful your little tummy would look adorned with a baby bump.

Big fan of thigh-fucking, especially if you're not particularly rad-resistant; its a nice way for him to put you on your back, your legs on his shoulders the way he likes, pumping away at you in a way that feels natural without having to worry about making you incredibly sick or hurting you if he can't pull out in time. Or if he produces a lot of precum, which he is prone to. You both love and hate it, the head of him bumping and teasing against your clit depending on the angle, but never stimulating you enough to make you cum yourself. Fortunately, he's quite faithful about planting his head between your thighs and finishing you off once he's done.

If you are rad resistant, he still loves it; in fact, he loves it even more because he can fuck your thighs until he's about to finish, and instead of coating your stomach and mound, he can shove his weeping cock inside you at the last second and breed you, the sudden, wet heat around him making him cum even harder. Best of both worlds.

[zqmbiescorpse]

THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST

lottie matthews x female reader

a/n: i used the word 'homosexual' once and every time i see it i giggle a bit, so if it feels out of place for you it felt out of place for me too lmao

summary: you and lottie have always been suspiciously close for best friends. one night at a party, the feelings finally surface. the only thing left to complicate the situation is a plane crash and a possession.

warnings: alcohol, smoking, brief mentions of homophobia, kissing, sexual tension, suggestive themes, possession, minor depictions of violence (like once i think)

word count: 5.6k

(masterlist)

Your head pounded rhythmically, in time with the pulsating music blaring all around you; the consequence of partying in the middle of nowhere with an abundance of alcohol. By some miracle, you and your team had made it to nationals and were due to fly to Seattle the following morning, so naturally, every member of the Yellowjackets could be found here, either drunk or high - in hindsight, it was not the best idea, but you were teenagers, a lame excuse for the fact that you'd get up to some stupid shit. 

If you'd had a mind of your own and had refused to succumb to the pressures of high school, you would most likely be at home now, snuggled up in the warm comfort of your own bed, attempting to fall asleep since tomorrow was going to be very busy for you. Without a doubt, as much sleep as possible would have prepared you for the day, even if you were kept awake for a little while due to an overwhelming anxiety and excitement gathering in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies were congregating to flutter around down there. 

However, you were currently standing propped up against someone's car. You didn't know whose it was, just that it was oddly parked in the middle of the party, surrounded by towering trees and irresponsible youth. Either way, it provided you with something to lean on, eliminating the need to hold yourself up while you slumped against it - red plastic cup in hand, you occasionally sipped the cheap alcohol, the flavour reminiscent of metal, bitter and sour, burning the back of your throat as you slowly swallowed it until there was nothing left. 

Why were you here then? You'd find yourself pondering that question every other moment of the night, each time, your brain would trigger a similar answer and you'd suddenly be fine with the atmosphere again. The social gathering was merely a non-suspicious justification to spend time with Lottie, who was off scrounging for more beer to supply the both of you with. It hadn't been long, a few minutes max, though, you still wished she'd hurry up and come back. You weren't really invested in conversing with any other members of your team, or anyone else here that attended your school for that matter - leaving you awkwardly awaiting Lottie's return. 

This didn't automatically mean that you disliked the people you would play the sport with, you did like a large majority of them and they were your closest friends. You weren't a loner, despite your lack of socialising at that moment which suggested otherwise; everyone else seemed to be scattered about, maybe in pairs or threes, moseying around with their own designated companion. You'd even catch glimpses of some of the girls kissing random guys, undoubtedly sparking trouble and unwanted romantic drama. You didn't want to be part of it. Ultimately, you were quite content with reducing yourself to clinging to Lottie's side, as you typically did.

The girl was witty, and cleverly humorous despite the fact that she was more subtle than harsh, never getting in anyone’s face or poking unnecessary fun at an oblivious target. She wasn't mean, bearing no intent to harm or cause trouble. Aside from her stunning looks and adorably gorgeous face, her genuine friendliness, sarcastic nature, and intelligence only ever intensified your infatuation with her. In addition, Lottie was incredible at what she did, her footwork being the cleanest on the team - how could you not admire her? 

At times, it frustrated you to no end, considering the world you lived in, people would avoid homosexuals like the plague, meaning you had precisely zero people to talk to about your troubles. You'd attempted to dismiss such feelings for your best friend, however, each instance proved useless.

Creating distance between the pair of you failed miserablely, for starters, the image of you and Lottie Matthews being miles apart caused eyebrows to raise immediately - purposely avoiding her made you feel deflated while it drastically upset her. It was inhumane to do that to someone, especially someone so special to you, therefore, that plan was scrapped within minutes. Besides, you played soccer together for your school, it was only a matter of time before you'd be attached at the hip again. 

'Newbie' was not the correct term for you, regarding your experiences with the team, nevertheless, you couldn't help but question your own utility. Although you could never exactly pinpoint why you were valued so much, apparently everyone else thought you were a spectacular asset and essential if they had any hope of winning Nationals. You disagreed. 

On the other hand, Lottie acted like she was your personal hype woman, constantly drowning you in praises throughout every second of every game. Those things got under your skin, in the best way possible. It was a miracle that your performance didn't waver when she'd encourage you with such charming words, blushing and fumbling after every compliment. 

You watched the brunette make her way toward you, a new batch of murky liquid in her hands, your heart a flutter at the mere sight of her. Lottie stumbled across the bumpy terrain, careful of the mud to prevent a fall, yet, she didn't hesitate to raise an arm excitedly to greet you. You smiled, shyly returning the wave. 

"Jesus Christ, what idiot chose here of all places to have a party!" Lottie giggled, slipping the new cup of alcohol into your old, empty one. 

"I have no idea, we kinda just show up, no questions asked," Your response was nonchalant, "Oh, thank you, by the way, for the drink," You quickly added on, eager to show your gratitude, even if it was over something minor. 

"What?" She stared, wide-eyed, struggling to hear you over the booming beats of whatever shitty song was playing. 

"I was just saying thank you for the beer!" Somewhat slurring your words, you began to shout, ensuring that you wouldn't need to repeat yourself again. 

"Yeah, of course! It's no problem!" 

Neither of you was severely intoxicated, at best it was more of a faint buzz guiding your bodies closer. The proximity gradually narrowed - there was not much hesitation as you were too busy caught up in the pointless, drunken conversation flowing between you and her. 

Equally giddy, you became progressively needy, hanging onto every word she spoke, whereas Lottie continuously rambled on about everything and nothing, informing you about insignificant details; a vast grin plastered to her face. Out of all the Yellowjackets, it was obvious that you and Lottie had consumed the most alcohol, the image of you together - fairly isolated from everyone else though still in view of anyone sober enough to care - her free hand lazily played with the ends of your hair and you gazed up at her wearing a toothy grin. 

Although it was strange for her to publicly display physical affection for you, the action didn't linger on your mind due to the woozy atmosphere. The man-made peace surrounding you, created by the beer, was soon broken by a few incoherent voices quarrelling suddenly. 

"You're a fucking sociopath!" 

Lottie, instantly detecting where the commotion was coming from, followed the sound of arguing. You trailed behind her, also eager to see some excitement.

"That was Shauna, right?" You inquired, cracking up at the idea of Shauna of all people getting into it with someone else, she was definitely not the type to start trouble.

"Sounds like her," The taller girl delighted, "Look! There, with Taissa."

You and Lottie merged with the congregation of people intensely monitoring Shauna and Taissa as they bickered back and forth about an incident that had occurred prematurely. Van had evidently been tangled up in the crossfire, the poor girl trying her hardest to separate her agitated teammates. You momentarily realised the situation was because of the gruesome injury inflicted on Allie, having been present when her flesh was ripped off her leg and her kneecap smashed. 

"I don't need you to defend me? Last time I checked you were totally fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy," Nat, feeling targeted, counted herself into the dispute, "I don't know why you two decided to come over here and just laugh when you were very much involved too?"

Her attention focused on you and Lottie, pointing fingers, exaggerating your amusement that had washed over with concern long before it had been mentioned, and hearing everyone shout at each other conveyed the seriousness of the situation plenty.

"Hey, what? We're not laughing?" Lottie defensively piped up, "I even said that I was unsure about it! How was I supposed to know that Tai would take it that far!"

Natalie shook her head, unimpressed with Lottie, instead, aggressively addressing you now. You hadn't spoken a single word, yet, the terror that shot through your veins was indescribable.

"What's your excuse? Apart from the fact that you go along with anything Lottie does," The blonde condescended.

"Fuck off Natalie, I didn't do anything. I didn't bust her leg and ruin her chances at playing sport," You quipped back at the unwanted blame, humiliated at whatever she was trying to hint at concerning Lottie.

"Bull. Shit."

Many negligible disagreements erupted violently inside the once collective dispute, drawing attention to you and your group. The volume was out of control, girls verbally attacking one another over nothing, arguing for argument's sake.

Due to the commotion, you started to attract bystanders, which in turn, alerted a very annoyed Jackie. She stopped what she was doing and promptly stomped over, disappointed and desperate to defuse the situation. Stern words from the girl with honey-coloured hair swiftly lead the fighting members of the Yellowjackets into a clearing, isolated from the party's intense atmosphere. 

You suppressed a groan at the suggested team-bonding activity, not particularly thrilled to forcibly compliment them at Jackie's request. Originally mimicking a military lineup, everyone disassembled from the formation and awkwardly approached each other, mumbling positive affirmations.

You were fortunate enough to be right next to Lottie, the taller girl swivelling around to meet your smaller self. She was without a drink, likely thrown it away before arriving at the new destination - in its place was a freshly lit cigarette. The crisp air dancing across your bodies sobered you up a bit, although not completely, you still felt more capable of thinking straight. 

There were millions of compliments you could've shower the beautiful brunette with, deciding what to actually say was a challenge. Taking drags of the cigarette and blowing the smoke in your general direction, because Lottie knew how it would make you blush, she peered down at you expectedly, awaiting an answer. Alternatively, she could've just taken the lead but didn't, for reasons you couldn't figure out.

"Jackie seriously couldn't think of anything better to fix our problems," You offered, seriously unsure about what to say to her. Lottie certainly wasn't going to let it go, yet the issue of accidentally being too forward and implying your romantic feelings for her was a looming threat that held you back. 

"What is it, not got anything nice to say to me?" She mused, smirking. 

"I admire your commitment to sport and…" You cut yourself off. 

"And what?" 

A strangled chuckle left your tightening throat, leaving Lottie amused. 

"I don't know, well, I was gonna say something like…you're a really great friend to me."

For a millisecond, you considered coming out with the truth and telling her how pretty she was. Ultimately, you fumbled and quickly covered it up, though you couldn't shake the feeling that Lottie knew how awfully you were lying. 

"Sure, you're a good friend to me too," she mocked, playfully jabbing her finger into your shoulder before returning the cigarette to her lips. 

This your eyes followed, trailing up until you inevitably met hers. You didn't know if it was because you'd gained confidence after the alcohol you'd had throughout the evening, or if you had internally decided to be more bold - forward with her - but you didn't want to look away. You couldn't look away. 

You noticed as Lottie's face changed from playful, to something more gentle, yet serious, like she had been suddenly whisked away in the same trance that had lured you into a daze. The ever-present background noise of the girls laughing and joking with each other danced happily around your ears, your subconscious pleased to hear your teammates having fun again. Though, you felt isolated from them, too focused on Lottie's plump lips and how they would part slightly, ready to say something, but freighted to do it. 

Her tanned skin glistened under the shine of the moon, creating something other-worldly out of someone who was already beyond ravishing. The distance between you shortened with each second, Lottie's hands were itching to reach out and pull you closer - you craved it. 

"Me and Shauna are gonna start heading back, get home safe!" 

The lust-filled atmosphere concealing you and her from the rest of the world crumbled, the interruption from Jackie announcing her and Shauna's exit brutally snapped the pair of you back into reality. There were a few awkward glances shared while you casually backed off from her. Nothing really happened; the fear of rejection crept in nonetheless, wondering if you'd overstepped her boundaries. 

Jackie and Shauana disappeared into a clearing, prompting many of the other girls to disperse and start to make their own way home.

"Are we leaving too?" You shyly asked, the tension from moments ago playing on your mind.

Lottie paused, considering her options thoroughly. She scanned the surrounding area, her face radiating an internal conflict so severe she couldn't have just been deciding whether she wanted to return home or stick around for a little longer.

“No. We’re staying.”

Her voice was fierce, a dangerous fire blazing in her eyes as she snatched your wrist and dragged you further within the trees, the taller girl guiding you to an unknown destination. You didn't complain nor protest. It was completely in the norm for her to do whatever she pleased with you trailing not too far behind. One could even say, you were totally whipped. She had your entire trust.

"Where are we going, Lottie?" You laughed nervously - that curious, giddy feeling back again.

"Away from everyone…just the two of us."

You couldn't determine her tone and you couldn't see her face. A silent blush tinted your cheeks. Was she messing with you? Was she purposely sounding so seductive? Did she know how hard your aching heart was pounding frantically against your chest?

The brunette came to a halt and you followed suit. Lottie finally spun around, meeting you face-to-face, her eyebrows were furrowed and her breath against your skin was unsteady, but it didn't stop her from grabbing your jaw and sloppily locking her lips with yours.

Tingles and hot flushes spread across your body due to the very sensation that was her mouth pressing bruisingly into your own. Any whimpers or whines you let slip as you reciprocated the passion she was gifting you, were shushed, Lottie taking the quickest of breaks from being attached to your lips to remind you to keep quiet made your insides melt - having the opposite effect, instead encouraging you to get more impatient.

She forcefully guided you backward until the rough bark of a tree was up against you, your hands clutched to her waist and your nails dug deeper because of this, earning a pleasured groan from the one who was basically on top of you. You could taste the liquor from earlier on her, she could taste it on you too. It didn't stop either of you from wildly exploring each other's mouths. 

Desperate to somehow be even closer to you, Lottie's weight smothered you, her height compared to yours left you with no chance of gaining control, but that wasn't an issue at all. Unintentionally, she lifted a leg for reasons only justifiable because of the positions you were in and the circumstances of a limited area, causing her knee to press into a certain spot between your shaking thighs. A moan slipped from your throat, louder than expected.

"Oh, my," Lottie chortled, taking a step back, "Did you like that?"

"Shut up and keep kissing me…please."

She obliged, buzzing with delight, the kisses slower at first, filled with love, the pace gradually picking up until you found yourselves similarly to where you were before: heated, messy, and running out of air.

-

The weight from your foot cautiously stepping up the rickety rungs of the old ladder made quite a racket, the wood rotting, similarly to the entire foundation of the cabin. It was a surprise that the structure was even suitable to live inside. Your designated pillow and blanket were slung over your arm, consequently, you struggled to make it to the top - climbing a ladder one-handed was not on your bingo card for this summer. Then again, neither was surviving a plane crash and having to live in Canada's brutal wilderness for an insufferable amount of time.

"What are you doing?" Taissa, who must have heard your endeavour, leaned over the entrance of the attic, "Here, I've got you."

The athlete assisted you with ease, collecting your belongings for you and placing them to the side so they would no longer be an inconvenience.

"Thank you, Tai," You nodded, briskly moving to set out a place to sleep, busying yourself in an attempt to avoid any questions you knew were about to come your way.

"Why are you up here?" 

"I just thought I'd support my friend, prove to everyone that there's nothing to be scared of and that the cabin isn't haunted…" You lied confidently.

"Right…If you were so sure, why did it take you this long to join me up here? I mean, I would appreciate it more if you displayed your so-called unity ten minutes ago? When I proposed the idea and got no response? You tryna make me look stupid?" Taissa quipped, mostly light-hearted, but you knew that she wasn't buying it - she was more bothered about getting the truth out of you than wasting time being annoyed.

You brushed it off with a laugh, kneeling down to fluff up your pillow and adjust the extremely thin blanket-crafted mattress. You relaxed yourself against it, now snuggled up on the floor. Taissa copied this, bringing herself to get comfortable next to you. 

"So are you going to tell me the actual reason why you chose to come sleep in this creepy attic?" She was relentless, never shutting up unless your response was satisfactory. "Shouldn't you be down there, with Lottie?" 

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You choked, disappointed that she'd guessed part of your problem this early on.

"Oh c'mon, don't be like that, I'm only pointing out that it's unusual for you to be this far away from her. You and Lottie, not up each other's asses? That's unheard of," She smirked. 

"Okay, shouldn't you be down there with Van, then?" You mimicked the suggestive question, turning the suspicious homoerotic friendship allegations onto her this time. 

Taissa let out a sigh. Not because of you or anything that you'd said, rather, she missed her secret lover after mere minutes of separation.

"Van's too freaked out, she wanted to stay with the others," She spoke, deflated, the cheeky way of her words had disappeared, the reality of what you'd seen at the seance front and centre in her mind. 

"I'm terrified," You bluntly admitted, "I'm way too scared to be near her and I know how selfish it sounds but I can't do it. Lottie…she, well, she was fucking possessed!" 

After the party, you and her never spoke about the kiss. Things carried on between you as they normally would, thankfully, yet the memories of that night corrupted your every thought. You assumed that the plethora of alcohol you shared caused her to forget, which was still strange since you remembered it perfectly, but ignored it anyway. If she genuinely had no memory of it, that would probably be for the best; you'd hate to ruin your already-established friendship. 

However, over the past week subsequent to the crash, there was a minor difference in her that made it so the pair of you were somehow closer than before, this including physical closeness to one another. Hence, you were under the impression that she simply refused to mention the kiss due to reasons unknown. Possibly some variation of fear. 

Then, as her way of 'pulling her weight' to help the group adapt to their new life, Jackie cooks up an amazing idea to host a seance that, in turn, offers Lottie up to any available demons, her body becoming a vessel for the supernatural. 

It was horrifying. The delicate flicker of the candles had blown themselves out, ripping away any source of light; the room was filled with disorientated screams and panicked suggestions to make Lottie stop chanting - your 'sort-of girlfriend' had been repeating something demonic in French, successfully freaking everyone the fuck out. Vague translations had left the group mostly in the dark about what was happening, the only parts that were figured out included the spillage of blood and the demands of an unnatural being. 

The shock that struck you then stayed with you now, the thought of sleeping next to her was unbearable, thus explaining why you relocated to the attic to be with Taissa.

"It's okay to be scared, you know that, right?" She offered, trying to smile.

"I feel horrible though. I can't believe I just left her because I'm too much of a coward to face an issue that wasn't even her fault!" You fussed, grumbling into your hands to hide your face and the tears that were forming in your eyes. 

"Hey, it's not your fault either. I'm sure Lottie will understand if you spend one night away from her, with good reason might I add," A friendly chuckle strived to cheer you up, Tai shuffled up to you in case you needed to borrow her shoulder. 

"We kissed."

You don't know why you told her, you were planning on keeping it a secret, locking it away forever like the situation never even existed in the first place and was just another daydream, about your best friend, that nobody would ever know about. 

The girl beside you took in a shocked breath, "Shit…I kinda guessed that you weirdos liked each other a bit too much but oh my god I wasn't expecting that." 

"We've both been acting like nothing happened that night. Then this had to happen and make everything more complicated." You explained, slightly calmer than you had been a few moments ago. 

"Try not to worry about it. Get some rest, clear your mind, and talk to her about it tomorrow, okay? 

The suggestion had you nodding in agreement, what else could you really do at that point in time? You were in great need of an undisturbed rest and if you had to move away from the possessed culprit to do that then it was in your right to do so. You concluded that at the first chance you got throughout the busy, chore-filled day, you would go off and find Lottie. The idea made you anxious, nauseous even, but you couldn't avoid her and 'it' forever. 

When you finally awoke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the window, golden rays shining down on your face and painfully in your eyes - you rolled over to avoid it, only to discover that Taissa was already gone. 

It must've been later than usual since nobody besides Coach Scott could be found inside the cabin, everyone else had vacated it to carry out tasks, individually pitching in, which you were falling behind on due to the late start.

You recalled Shauna asking you to assist her with something, probably revolving meat rations. You weren't sure why she chose you of all people to help her with that stuff, but you supposed it was because you originally showed some willingness and then suddenly, you're dragged into it every time. 

Luckily, you spotted her immediately, stood around with Jackie, seemingly waiting for you. 

Apologies for unintentionally lying in came tumbling out of you, explaining how Taissa kindly forgot to wake you up. This earned you a hearty chuckle from Shauna who reassured you that it was okay, and that she knew you'd take a little longer as Tai had taken it upon herself to inform the group that you needed the extra rest. Feeling partially relieved, you followed Shauna into the forestry areas to the shed where the dead animals were kept - you didn't fail to notice Lottie's absence. 

As instructed, you thinly sliced the portions of raw meat for rationing; the blade smoothly cut through. It wouldn't be long until you'd run out of food again, the one deer unfortunately wasn't enough to sustain the group forever, hence, you'd rather not worry about it, the hunters were out doing all they could and you had to put some faith in them. 

Your mind drifted to Lottie, not a great decision since thinking about her was very distracting and you were wielding an extremely sharp knife - to accidentally slash your fingers while concentrating on her would be an amusing story for everyone else, not so funny for you however.

"Are you nearly finished?" Shauna checked up on your progress, peeking over your shoulder. 

"Pretty much, yeah," You murmured, preoccupied, "Hey, have you seen Lottie this morning? I'm just curious since she wasn't around the cabin."

"Yeah I saw her, it wasn't for long," She recalled, "Laura Lee took her to the lake. You know, after the seance and everything…she's been acting really weird."

Having finished your task, you placed the knife down and rested your palms against the rigid table, then said, "I don't know how I'm realising it now but, something has been wrong with her for a fair few days. We haven't brought any attention to it, is all. 

With a dirtied rag, Shauna wiped the blood off her hands and urged you to do the same. 

"Maybe keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better. I think we've all been acting reasonably different." She replied, wanting to keep the hopes high, this you appreciated, giving her a small nod as she gathered up the meat and took it away to be stored. 

You sighed deeply and shut your eyes tight, focusing on nothing, ensuring that your head was clear. The heat alone, out there in the wild, made you feel exhausted.

Stretching your back, you heard a faint rustle from no more than a metre or two away. Expertly scanning the surrounding area, you were ready to snatch the weapon up from the table and call for backup. If you were lucky, this could've been your next meal. Your mouth almost watered at the many possibilities of which animal would come into your vicinity without a single clue in the world of what their fate would be. The low grumble in your stomach grew. 

Emerging from the trees, you quickly learnt that it wasn't an animal at all, it was Lottie; her hair had been wet but was gradually drying, some of the strands still clinging to her face, and the t-shirt she was wearing had a few damp patches splattered about. 

Abruptly feeling awkward, you met her eyes sheepishly, waiting patiently for her to break the silence. 

"Is now a bad time?" She carefully questioned you, her hands joined together in a  nervous clump. 

"Not at all," You uttered, feigning confidence when you were actually as equally anxious as she was. 

"Can we talk?" 

You had no objections, having been patient all day, awaiting an opportunity to set things straight with Lottie. Trailing behind her into the woods, you thought back to the party, the way she was leading you to a secluded area so the pair of you could be isolated, it was a direct parallel to that night that seemed a lifetime ago, the night where you had hopes that your relationship might have progressed. 

"Is everything okay, Lot?" You gently asked.

"Where were you last night?" The taller girl decided you'd walked far enough and that this spot behind the cabin was suitable to converse, thus she stopped, "I woke up and you weren't there." 

"I went to the attic."

"Why?"

There was no use in lying, it wouldn't benefit neither you nor Lottie, the excuse that you went up there for Tai, that you failed in convincing her, wouldn't make much sense anyway because the brunette had slept through the proposal. Plus, you just wanted to be honest. That's why you agreed to this in the first place. 

"I was scared of what happened to you," You admitted, the anxiety you felt after seeing her possessed came flooding back, distressing you all over again. 

Lottie paused, conjuring the perfect response. She didn't say anything - a small, understanding, but sad, nod was the best she could do. A harsh pang of guilt struck your lower body. 

"I'm sorry, leaving you like that was probably wrong and I shouldn't have done it, I didn't mean to upset you, Lot. I'm really sorry," You apologised sincerely, "I'm not freaked out anymore, maybe a bit on edge still but, you're better now, right?" 

You wondered if you sounded too whiny, your intention was to ensure that your best friend was okay, nothing else. 

Her big brown eyes swirled with confusion, she couldn't even tell herself if she had returned back to normal, her voice brimming with anxiety, she whispered, "Do you hate me for what happened?" 

"What, no! Of course not, I promise I don't hate you," You explained in a panic, absolutely heartbroken that you'd caused her to say such ridiculous things. 

"I don't just mean that," Lottie slowly spoke, testing the waters as she was concerned about approaching the upcoming admission, "The party too, we never talked about it."

To say you were astonished was an understatement. Lottie, someone who you thought had completely forgotten about the kiss, openly acknowledged the fact that it definitely happened.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't think that you remembered, or that you chose to ignore it. I could never hate you, especially because of something like that. It was amazing!" You exclaimed, red tinting your cheeks, joy spreading across your face. 

This same cheer infected Lottie, her frown lifting into a beautiful, more confident grin. 

"Yeah, it was good," She agreed, blushing furiously. 

Although she appeared happier, the furrow of her brow indicated that she remained slightly apprehensive, prompting you to inquire, "What is it, Lot?" 

"There's another problem, I think I've been seeing stuff and I don't know if it's real or not." The brunette troubled, shuffling around. 

"Like hallucinations? Visions?" 

"Visions. I went to the lake earlier, with Laura Lee, and she dunked me under the water - and I ended up in a candle-lit room and then I saw an explosion and… I don't know what's happening to me," She rambled on, her eyes pricking with tears. 

You reached out to her, firmly rubbing her shoulder for comfort, "You can talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."

"So, you'll believe me? Laura Lee does, but the others are cautious. You're the one that I need." Lottie's expression was solemn, entirely serious about the discussion you were having; her vulnerable side shining through. 

"I believe you and I trust you. I care about you so much, you know?" 

 Your attention was brought to the blossoming pink patches covering her face due to your honesty, the taller girl experiencing an overwhelming mixture of emotions, she launched herself into your open arms. You hugged her back, tightly, letting go wasn't something that you'd be doing anytime soon, the height difference when you'd have such drawn-out, warm embraces always succeeded in making you laugh. 

After an undetermined amount of time, you both instinctively pulled away simultaneously. You gazed up at her, body language oozing with love while you brushed her dark strands of hair out of her face. Lottie's tanned hand cupped your cheek, you could see that she was feeling the warmth radiating off of it, yet, it didn't humiliate you, it felt freeing. 

You leaned in close, pecking her soft lips once, then going back in for a second short, though, sickly sweet kiss. Lottie began to giggle - the melodic noise identical to the one you would hear in the Yellowjackets locker room after a long, tiring game, or when you and her exclusivity went around invested in your own dumb shenanigans. It had been a while since you'd heard it, your heart beating faster as a result. 

Her palm traced your skin until she arrived at your chin, tilting it upwards, accessing your mouth easier as she towered over you - this kiss was not a short peck. It wasn't a sloppy, heated mess either, rather, it was slow and filled to the brim with affection. 

"So are we like a thing then?" Lottie beamed, remaining incredibly close to you with an indescribable bliss. 

"If you want things to be official, then I do too," You marvelled, mirroring her wide, toothy grin. 

You continued to pepper kissing all over each other's faces, showering your counterparts in affection. From there, things were appearing more positive; your hopes were high for the future.

[trashytummies]

Swallowed Pride (DC vore fic)

a/n: have a protective Nightwing ft. unwilling Jason prey vore fic. lil batfamily vibsey <3. oh and jason also has some not fun memories of dying. I adore vore fics with swapping perspectives so I'm sorry if this is confusing ;_; word count: ~4100?

_____

Jason groaned, a low rasp slipping out of his throat. His surroundings pulsed with a damp, oppressive heat that clawed at his skin, slicking his gloves and making it almost impossible to catch his breath. His ribs ached, and every inch of him felt trapped in this unrelenting, humid vise. He tried to shift, to get his back against something solid, but every motion was swallowed up, met with a suffocating resistance.

"Alright," he muttered, voice hoarse. “This is… new.”

The taste in the air was wrong. A grimace twisted his face as he tried to shift, finding no space to move, wedged between layers of damp, fleshy walls. Not rock. Not exactly wet stone, either. Just too soft. Too warm.

Not rubble. Nothing jagged. Smooth. 

The sound of his own breathing grew louder, rasping in and out as he tried to twist himself free. But all he managed was to slide further down this bizarre chute. A flicker of panic flashed across his mind, sharp and unwelcome. It tugged at something buried deep, something he didn’t let himself think about, ever. But it was there now; the sensation of heat, tightness, the press of earth and smoke. Like that day. Like-- 

No. Nope, he wasn’t doing that. Not thinking about that, not now.

His mind buzzed, digging through memories. He’d been with the team; Red, Nightwing, and yeah, of course, Bats. The mission had gotten a little out of hand; Tim needed backup, and -- then what? Everything between then and now was a haze. A big, dripping, burning haze.

Jason tried to focus, replaying the moments just before; the alley, then that abandoned office building, and then… nothing. And now this cave-like, sweltering pit. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, smearing against his mask as he twisted, trying to plant his knees against something solid. Every breath felt like he was sucking down steam, heat pressing on him from every angle.

"Okay, Todd. Get it together. Think.” He glanced around --or tried to, anyway, but there was no way to tell which way was up or down. Just that same smooth, slimy pressure squeezing in on all sides, his own breaths coming back hot against his face.

“Hey, anyone out there?” he called, the words half-lost in the wet slap of whatever lined this... place. But all he got was a soft, rhythmic groan surrounding him, almost like a heartbeat, steady and smothering.

Another wave of pressure tightened around him, shoving him further into the suffocating darkness. His heart pounded, thoughts scattering like shrapnel, sharp and fast. Buried alive. That sick, clawing sensation washed over him, dredging up memories he had no intention of revisiting. Explosions. Dirt pressing in on him, the weight of concrete and metal trapping him, his own voice screaming for help, and--

No. Not now.

He gritted his teeth, frustration biting deep. “Red? Wing? I swear, if you two left me in a sewer pipe or something...” He twisted his head, grumbling to himself, but everything came out muffled, absorbed by this pulsing, humid space.

_________________________

Rewind 

Rewind

Rewind

The scene swirled back into focus, through the last thirty chaotic minutes that landed on the exact moment Dick realized something was really wrong.

Jason was supposed to be covering the south side, running point with Tim across the courtyard. But when Dick looked back after clearing a corner, he’d caught sight of Jason crumpling, mid-swing, into the pavement. Jason wasn’t just down; he was tiny. Like, two inches max, knocked out cold, and sprawled out on the ground.

Dick’s jaw had practically hit the rooftop. “Holy shit,” he hissed, blinking hard like maybe he’d just taken a hit to the head himself.

Nope.

That was definitely Jason, definitely bite-sized, and lying defenseless in the middle of Gotham’s grimiest alley. He barely had time to process it, and he was not about to leave Jason sitting in the gutter like some abandoned Happy Meal toy.

Okay, Grayson. Think.

He glanced down at his suit, mentally running through every hidden pocket and compartment. Utility belt? No way -- too much jostling. The pocket lining would probably suffocate the guy, or worse, turn him into shrunken pulp if Dick took a hit. Same with any of his stash spots. Then the next best thought crossed his mind -- and immediately died a fiery death.

But hell, with the goons doubling back, any hesitation could leave Jason vulnerable, or worse. He had seconds to act.

So he did something that, in his defense, seemed like the only solution in the moment.

One quick breath, and he scooped Jason up, tipping him carefully onto his tongue. Jason’s tiny body felt solid, almost surprisingly weighty, considering his new size. Dick hesitated, the reality of this insane decision finally hitting home. He closed his eyes, steeling himself, and with the gentlest nudge, he swallowed.

It was, well, uncomfortable didn’t even start to cover it. Jason slipped down in a slow, thick slide, an odd pressure that made Dick grit his teeth. Each inch felt painfully deliberate, his throat constricting around Jason’s shape until he finally, mercifully, settled in place. Dick coughed, trying to compose himself just in time to hear Tim's footsteps against the concrete as he caught up.

“Dick!” Tim called, eyes scanning him over, then narrowing. “What the hell was that?”

Dick barely managed to suppress another cough, swallowing hard. “What was what?” he choked out, voice barely steady.

Tim’s brow arched, skeptical, like he’d seen through every bullshit excuse Dick had ever tried in his entire life. “I saw you cough up a lung. And you’re still flushed. Look, if you’ve got something going on with your suit tech or whatever--”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Dick cut in, waving it off, trying to play up his usual charm. He gave Tim a reassuring, if slightly strained, grin. “Just--went down the wrong pipe. Happens to the best of us, right?”

Tim looked at him for a long second, head tilted, the gears clearly turning. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Dick cleared his throat one more time for emphasis. “Trust me, if I had something important to tell you, I’d tell you. Now, can we focus? There’s still three of them left.” He jerked his thumb toward the next building. “I’ll take the high ground. You flush them out?”

Tim still looked at him sideways, but he gave a reluctant nod, his gaze flicking down to Dick’s throat once more before turning back to the mission. “Fine, but if you pass out mid-jump or whatever, I’m telling Babs.”

Dick barely restrained a wince, waving Tim off as he darted toward the next alleyway. One hour, tops, he told himself. Just get the job done, clear out the area, and get Jason out safely before he has a chance to do more than mumble a few pissed-off words.

“Hang tight, Jaybird,” he muttered under his breath.

_______________________

The tight, slick walls squeezed in around him, pressing at his shoulders and ribs, forcing him to push forward just to breathe. Every inch he gained seemed to make it worse --the stifling heat, the reek of rot, like old food left out too long. Jason sucked in a shallow breath, trying to steady himself, only for the sour stench to claw at his throat. He grimaced.

"Great," he muttered, voice muffled and weak in the humid dark. "I get to suffocate and smell like someone’s garbage disposal. Just my luck."

He shoved forward, the cramped space finally loosening just enough for him to wriggle through, half crawling, half dragged along by whatever was coating these walls. He pushed his hands out and found --thank god-- something resembling open space. Not by much, but he could almost stretch out his arms, which had to count for something.

Except it didn’t. If anything, it was somehow worse in here.

The stench punched him square in the gut, stomach-churning in a way that brought back memories he’d worked pretty damn hard to bury. The heat. The way it pressed down on him, cloying, sticky, unyielding. The dark was so thick it was like he could feel it pressing in on his skin. Too close to those old memories. Too close to the kind of helpless that made his chest feel like it might cave in.

Jason let out a low, shaky breath, pressing his palm to the wall for some semblance of stability. "Come on, Todd. Focus. Think." He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to training, his instincts settling in. What the hell even is this place? The entire thing was soft, slick, like… flesh.

“Okay, no, that’s insane. I’m not…” He swallowed, panic prickling at the edges of his mind. But the clues pieced together too neatly, each one sliding in like a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. The walls, the cramped squeeze, the pulsing, muffled beat that droned around him like a heartbeat. His mind filled in the blanks faster than he wanted, and all at once, the truth slammed into him, cold and hard.

I’m in a stomach.

A stomach. A literal fucking stomach.

The idea hit him with a nauseating kind of clarity that almost made him laugh. He’d been trained by the world’s greatest detective, could read Gotham’s dirtbags better than most, and now he was trapped here, in someone’s gut, like the punchline to a twisted joke he never asked for.

He blinked, swallowing down a rush of bile. “So that’s it, huh?” he rasped, pressing his back to the fleshy wall, the whole setup feeling like some cruel rerun of a life he’d already lived. “I got blown up once. Came back, just to get tossed down the gullet. Nice. Really nice, universe. I appreciate it.”

The walls around him pulsed again, contracting in a slow, smothering rhythm, dragging his thoughts to that dark corner of his mind he tried to keep locked away. Buried alive. Alone. Left for dead. Panic tried clawing its way up his throat, but he shoved it down, clenching his fists until his gloves squeaked against the slick wall. Not like this.

No way he was letting some freak’s digestive tract do him in.

________________________________

Dick ducked under a swinging fist, pivoting out of the way with practiced ease. But the moment he twisted, a sudden sharp scratch clawed up from the pit of his stomach. He doubled over, a hand instinctively pressing against his abdomen, muttering under his breath.

“Oh, so you’re awake,” he grunted, voice low enough to avoid Tim’s ears but sharp enough to keep his irritation real. “And apparently pissed off.”

Jason gave another few furious kicks --or punches, maybe a full-body tantrum-- against the walls of Dick’s stomach, which only made him wince harder. Man, this is… Well, it was something. Distracting as hell, actually, when he was in the middle of a brawl with some of Gotham’s least creative henchmen.

Tim’s eyes zeroed in on him, skeptical, a hard squint as he landed a punch and sidled up. “Uh, you good? ‘Cause you’re making faces like you just ate bad sushi.”

“Yeah, yeah, just a little… stomach thing,” Dick managed, breath catching as Jason squirmed again. He leaned into his strikes, using the motion to cover a particularly sharp jab coming from inside.

Tim just kept staring, a brow arching. “In the middle of a fight? You’re usually more… I dunno. Here.”

“I am here,” Dick muttered through clenched teeth, grabbing the last thug by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall. Jason gave one last pointed kick that nearly knocked the wind out of him, and he couldn’t help it -- his hand went to his stomach again. He tried to school his face, look normal, like he wasn’t dealing with a very angry, very miniature Jason Todd wreaking havoc from within.

The final goon dropped, and before Dick could so much as take a breath, Tim was right there, narrowing his eyes in that too-perceptive way he always did when he suspected something was up.

“Alright,” Tim said, crossing his arms, his usual calm replaced with the full-blown Red Robin glare. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you tonight? I’m standing there, fighting for my life, and you’re out here rubbing your stomach like you’re at a bad buffet.” He tilted his head, lowering his voice. “And where the hell is Jason? He just up and left us? Doesn’t strike me as his style.”

Dick stifled the urge to cough again, glancing away to avoid Tim’s piercing gaze. Damn it, he’s good at this. “Maybe he had somewhere else to be,” he said, attempting casual. “You know how he is. Doesn’t tell us everything.”

Tim’s eyebrow crept higher, skepticism practically radiating off him. “He doesn’t tell Bruce everything, but he doesn’t just disappear mid-mission with no heads-up. I get he’s Jason, but this is Gotham. And you’re… weirdly calm about it.”

Dick forced a quick shrug, looking anywhere but Tim’s face. “Maybe I just trust him to handle himself.” He winced as Jason scratched at him again, pressing his hand to his side as subtly as he could. “Ow-- I mean, what? You know, he’s--he’s Jason.”

Tim folded his arms tighter, a smirk quirking at his lips. “And you’re stammering like you’ve got a guilty conscience. What gives?”

Dick could feel his cover slipping fast, and he knew he’d have to come up with something, and soon. For now, he just put on his best carefree grin, hoping it was enough to get Tim to lay off.

_______________________________

The reality of his situation settled in slowly, like the world's worst punchline unfurling in slow motion. Inside a stomach. He could practically feel the bile rising. Yeah, Jason Todd had been through his share of nightmares, but this was a new low even for him. Of all the places to wind up, he’d somehow managed to get himself swallowed. Just phenomenal.

"Just where I always wanted to end up," he muttered to himself, voice barely a whisper against the damp walls pressing around him. "A one-way ticket back to near-death, and for what? One more brush with the great beyond? Because dying was just such a blast the first time.”

He took a breath, trying to steady himself against the rippling walls, feeling the clench and pull of the gut as it tried to drag him deeper. He stifled a gag, the acrid stench of half-digested food coating every breath he took. Focus, Todd. Don’t think about the smell. Or the rotting mush sliding under his feet. Or that disgusting, rhythmic gurgle echoing in his ears like a twisted lullaby.

Alright, let's see if he could at least figure out who this idiot was. He couldn’t tell much by sound -- the voice was muted, a low vibration rumbling around him like he was underwater, though he could at least pick out a male inflection. But he couldn’t just be in some random guy’s gut, right? There was someone out there with a reason to swallow the Red Hood, and… actually, nope. Scratch that. He couldn’t think of a single person willing or twisted enough to get him into this mess.

Well, almost no one.

The last thing he remembered was dealing with Clayface’s thugs, swinging punches alongside Nightwing and Red Robin. He’d been right there with them, taking out the stragglers and rounding up the goons. And then… well, then things got fuzzy. Had he been teleported? Knocked out? Honestly, being devoured alive was just insane enough to be one of Joker’s sick stunts, but no—it didn’t feel… Joker-y enough. Even he’d probably keep Jason alive just to laugh in his face.

Jason sucked in another breath, fighting the nausea clawing up his throat. “So, let’s recap,” he mumbled, digging his nails into the slippery wall. “Stuck in a guy’s gut, no memory of how I got here, no idea who the hell ate me, and oh--right. I’m literally going to die in here. Just peachy.”

The stomach lurched suddenly, sending him sliding down, only to be shoved back up again by another ripple of muscle. He grimaced, trying to brace himself. And then, through the muffled tones and the heavy, distorted beat of the stomach around him, he caught something he’d recognize anywhere--a voice. And not just any voice, that same light, upbeat cadence that he’d heard a million times, the one that used to ring in his ears with the kind of brightness that could only belong to one person.

“No way,” he whispered, his eyes narrowing in the darkness as the realization hit him like a sucker punch. It couldn’t be. He’d never be stupid enough to do something like this. But the voice, the stupid cadence, and the sheer insanity of it all were enough to make it click. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Nightwing. Dick freaking Grayson.

Jason clenched his fists, the weight of his current humiliation settling like lead in his stomach. “Of all the stupid, reckless--” he muttered, barely able to believe it. Out of every sadistic nutcase in Gotham, he’d somehow ended up inside Dick. If it weren’t happening to him right now, he’d actually laugh.

Great. Just great. Buried, literally, in the “Golden Boy.” There was something sickeningly poetic about it, and he almost hated how much it fit. The guy he’d spent years trying to measure up to, fighting to be worthy of the role, who he’d half-convinced himself Bruce could never replace. And now here he was, trapped in the one guy he’d always felt himself shadowed by. Life had a real sense of humor sometimes.

“Grayson,” he muttered, pressing a hand to his chest to keep himself from dry-heaving, “you better pray I don’t get out of here.”

Because the dark, cramped, disgustingly hot pit was a nightmare Jason wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. The fact that it was Dick’s stomach? Oh, that just made it all the worse.

Jason shifted, grimacing as his fingers slid against the slick, half-digested remnants of… falafel? He gagged, pressing his hands against the walls as best as he could to brace himself, feeling another wave of that foul, acidic slosh roll over his boots.

“This is the absolute last time I team up with Grayson,” he muttered, gritting his teeth as he shoved his way up, the sour smell sticking to him, burning his throat with every breath. “And when I get out of here, I swear to god, I’m gonna make him regret every single inch of it.”

Of course, it couldn’t be anyone else’s stomach, right? Oh no. This whole thing was practically a sick joke. Here he was, stuck inside the guy he’d spent years trying to compete with, the guy who --whether Jason wanted to admit it or not-- always seemed to have it together. Meanwhile, Jason Todd was three inches tall, covered in stomach acid, and stuck in Grayson’s gut. Story of his life.

Just then, he felt a jolt, followed by a shift that had him sliding, face-first, right back into the half-digested slush at the bottom. He clenched his teeth, fighting back a wave of frustration. “Of all the idiotic, harebrained ideas, this was the best he could come up with?”

______________________________

Outside, things were deceptively calm. The last of the thugs had been cuffed and loaded up for the GCPD, and Tim and Dick were strolling down the street toward one of Gotham’s all-night fast-food joints. Tim was keeping pace beside him, shooting glances at Dick every few steps.

“So… we’re not going to talk about how Jason just vanished?” Tim asked, giving him a look that was a few levels below ‘judgmental’ but still in ‘I’m not buying this’ territory.

Dick shrugged, a bit too casually. “He’s Jason. Vanishing is half his style.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tim muttered, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. “Except usually, he at least gives us a heads-up, or a ‘screw you guys’ wave before bailing. And you’re weirdly chill about it.”

Dick held back a sigh, trying not to squirm under the scrutiny. Just play it cool, he told himself. “I’m telling you, Tim, he’s fine. He probably just needed a minute. You know him. He’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy regroup type.”

Tim’s frown only deepened, and he looked one small mental step away from phoning Bruce for a full-scale intervention. “Fine, you’re not gonna tell me. But if he’s actually in trouble, I’ll drag his ass back here myself.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re acting weird tonight, just so you know.”

“Appreciate the vote of confidence,” Dick muttered. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look casual as they stepped inside the fast-food joint. After ordering, he gave Tim a quick pat on the shoulder. “Hey, I’ll be right back -- gotta hit the bathroom.”

Tim didn’t even try to hide his suspicion. “Yeah, sure. Take your time,” he muttered, watching him disappear down the hallway like he was mentally cataloging every weird thing Dick had done that night.

________________________________

The bathroom was barely cleaner than the streets outside, but Dick didn’t have time to be picky. He closed the door behind him and took a breath, steadying himself as he braced against the sink. He could feel Jason still squirming, punching and scratching against the walls of his stomach.

“Alright, here goes…” he muttered, hoping to hell this wasn’t about to go from weird to grotesque.

With a few deep breaths and a not-so-gentle cough, he felt the painful push as Jason finally slid up and out, spilling into his hand. Dick exhaled heavily, trying to shake off the discomfort as he looked down at the soaked, very, very irritated mini-Jason sprawled out in his palm.

Jason wiped the gunk off his helmet with a grimace, barely glancing at Dick as he dragged himself to his feet. “Well, that was disgusting.”

Dick forced a grin, trying to keep things light. “Hey, I got you out, didn’t I?”

Jason’s glare could’ve cut through concrete. “In your stomach, Grayson. I spent the last hour drowning in… whatever the hell that was!” He flicked another glob of half-digested falafel off his jacket. “Didn’t exactly help that you ate before deciding to pull that little stunt.”

Dick winced. “I mean, it’s not like I planned on eating you, Jay. Just… improvised.”

“Yeah, well, next time, how about you don’t improvise by swallowing me whole?” Jason shot back, crossing his arms and bristling like a wet, angry cat. “Who even thinks swallowing someone is a good idea? Couldn’t just carry me around in your pocket or -- oh, I don’t know, figure out literally anything else?”

Dick shrugged, still trying to play it cool. “I was out of options. And I kept you safe, didn’t I?”

“Oh yeah, thanks. Real safe, Grayson. Look at me.” Jason held his arms out, dripping, his jacket half-eaten by stomach acid. “I look like I got tossed in a blender with a lunch special.”

Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright. Maybe it wasn’t my best idea. But hey, you’re not too worse for wear, right?”

Jason let out a laugh, bitter and biting, eyes narrowed. “Right. Well, good to know that I rank just below ‘half-eaten falafel’ on your list of things that matter. Just toss me in the garbage while you’re at it.”

Dick’s face softened, a flicker of guilt creeping in. “C’mon, Jay, that’s not--”

Jason held up a hand, cutting him off. “Save it. And for the record? Releasing me in a fast food bathroom? Way to show the love, Grayson. Real classy.”

Dick pressed his lips together, barely holding back a smirk. “Well, next time, maybe try to stay regular-sized, and we won’t have this problem.”

Jason shot him a look that could freeze lava. “Next time, Grayson, I’m shoving you into a sewer pipe and seeing how long it takes for you to complain about it.”

Dick raised his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.” He glanced down at the tiny, furious figure in his hand and gave him a soft, almost apologetic smile. “You, uh, need a rinse or…?”

Jason rolled his eyes, wiping another layer of gunk off his boots. “Yeah, try a hundred. And maybe a therapist on standby after all this.”

Dick grinned, finally letting out a small chuckle. “Fair enough. Remind me not to tell Tim about this?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to remind me,” Jason grumbled, crossing his arms. “Now, can we please get me out of this hellhole? And, for the record, if you ever pull this crap again…” He trailed off, fixing Dick with a hard glare. “Let’s just say I know exactly where to aim the next time I get a crowbar in my hands.”

Dick just shook his head, chuckling as he carefully tucked Jason --dignity shot, pride thoroughly bruised-- into his jacket pocket. “Alright, Red. I owe you one.”

[urfavoritedcwhore]

book boris as your boyfriend (HC’s)(some sexual)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

he hates it when you talk to any other man

he will absolutely brag about you in bed to ANYONE who’ll listen

not a big cuddler when he’s sober

but when he’s drunk or high, your gonna have to hold him like a damn baby.

when you have to go home he argues with you to make you hangout with him longer cause he knows you can’t leave until you get your point across.

will yell at you in russian if you really piss him off.

EMOTIONALLY MANIPULATIVE LITTLE SHIT.

after he yells at you he starts to make himself cry so that you have to coddle him.

usually the next day he’ll go steal a little present for you to make up for it.

will certainly pure pressure you into doing whatever drug he’s doing.

“boris is dont feel like taking anything tonight.” “why you don’t love me anymore?” “whatever give it to me.”

will randomly say things out of pocket then look around and say, “who say that? did you hear that?”

he thinks it’s the funniest shit ever.

very protective and has gotten into multiple fights over you. (rip to the poor man who complemented your shirt and got a black eye from boris cause of it.)

nsfw:

he’s okay at giving head when he’s drunk/high, BUT WHEN HES SOBER….that shit is fire.

sober/drunk boris in bed:

dominant asf

“aw what’s wrong принцесса? is it too much? cum for me three more times then i stop.”

will literally either make you cum 8 times, or not let you cum at all. there’s no in between.

ties you up completely and makes you watch him as he touches himself.

if your good he MIGHT let you touch him.

low throaty moans on rare occasions.

he’s degrading asf, but always in russian so you never really know what he’s saying.

however if he wants you to know what he’s saying he will certainly tell you.

“ты тупая чертова шлюха, да?” “what?” “I SAY, ‘YOUR SUCH A DUMB FUCKING WHORE, AREN’T YOU?”

will physically squeeze your mouth open to hear your moans.

has a very strange and strong fixation with being called “daddy”

you let it slip out once while he was fuckin you and now he makes you call him it every time you two are in bed

when he’s drunk he might hit you while you two are fuckin. if you try to tell him you weren’t into it afterwards he sobers up super fast and profusely apologizes.

he’s most likely smoking a cigarette while hitting it from the back

once he ashed his cigarette on your back and it left a burn mark. he was proud of himself.

he’ll pull out if he feels like it. he genuinely has had to steal so many plan b’s for you that he’s banned from all CVS’s.

high boris in bed:

is a whiny little sub.

makes you ride him cause yk…boobs in his face.

low whiny moans from the moment it starts, till the moment it ends.

does not last too long.

you honestly love fucking boris when he’s high cause it gives you the very rare chance to be dominant.

you make him beg to cum (i don’t make the rules🤷🏼‍♀️)

big fuckin praise kink

“tell me im doing good. im doing good, yes?”

you always do cause yk he needs that little bit of reassurance.

if he’s just high from weed he’s gonna switch between being dominant to submissive.

one second he’ll be letting you ride, whining and praising you, and the next he’s flipping you around and fuckin you from behind while he degrades you.

“love you so much, fuck it’s so good.”. *flips you around and starts pounding into you at lightning speed* “fucking take it you little slut. scream my name, no i didn’t say scream boris, i said scream my name.”.

makes you fall asleep on his chest after and holds you tighter if you try to move away.

[pixeltwix]

-Emma May Hc Rambles

Now because I actually don’t have anything prepared to post for today (sleep sounded better than late night sketching) I decided to just ramble about lil misc facts about my ver of Emma May Dixon :) nothing crazy plot wise, simply just things that I haven’t mentioned before or made dedicated posts to yet

I always envisioned Emma May with a very specific southern accent, and it took a random shuffle of my Spotify to realize she sounds like Dolly Parton!! It was either this or Luanne from King of the Hill which also sounded close to what I imagined, but as far as voice claims go, my ver of Em sounds like Dolly :D

She has bpd and ptsd. The latter I don’t feel needs much explanation as that comes from the cult bg, but the bpd comes from her fathers side of the family and has been an active part of her for as long as she can remember

Considering the time period though her mood swings and times of anger were always just chalked up to ‘womens hysteria’ and the like, which only proved to frustrate her more

She admittedly does have a bit of a temper, but nothing ever harmful to the people she cares about, she more so has adapted to take things out on herself. Ie pulling her hair, digging her nails into her arms, or biting her knuckles. Anything to ground her into reality to try and calm herself down

Ultimately though once she runs away from home she was fortunate to be surrounded by people who came to understand her. Be it Stan understanding in his own way and showing her his own copes, Ford keeping her distracted with mindless rambling, her uncle or Carla just giving her space to breathe, or Fiddleford understanding mental plights and just becoming a person of comfort for her- she thankfully has people who care

She used to date Ford back in high school

This didn’t really start until senior year when the pressure was on for both of them, but it was nothing crazy and honestly something both of them did cause ‘well ig if I could date anyone it’d probably be you’

From Carla saying ‘Em, it’s a safe bet’, to Stan saying it’ll be Ford‘s only chance to ‘get the girl’ they both conceded and gave it a try

They broke up just before Ford’s first semester at Backupsmore upon mutual ground, both confessing they only ever really liked the other as a friend, but otherwise ‘hey if we don’t meet anyone by the time we’re 30 then let’s get married for the benefits’

But of course Em meets Fiddleford and the rest is history as we know it

She’s a smoker and it’s a main part of the reason why she never kicked Fiddleford for his own chewing tobacco habits

She stopped mostly a bit into dating Fidds because smoking for her was mainly a stress relief, so with him as something more calming she saw the need for it less and less, but the second she knows she could potentially be getting pregnant in their relationship she quits

She picks it up briefly again around the late 80s, but otherwise is completely done with it as a coping mechanism before the 90s

She had a crush on Stan when they were kids (and honestly she still kinda did for a little while after that as well)

She always saw her feelings as something unrealistic and Stan as unattainable though as once she finally planned on saying something he saved Carla at the movies and that relationship began (which the irony here is Em also discovered she liked girls through her friendship with Carla)

But her underlining feelings that simmered beneath friendship is what motivated her to take him in after he was kicked out of his home, it’s why she kept sending him money for so long, and it’s why she bought and kept an issue of ‘Hunky Drifters Catalogue’ that had Stan in it. Something she forgets she has until she unpacking in Palo Alto and damn near has a heart attack

She also reminds me of Captain Amelia from Treasure Planet, but alas I could only put six

But anywho I hOPE this makes sense??

For me it’s like, the intense drive and determination paired with the sass and capabilities of a temper when people don’t take them seriously energy that feels so Emma May core. That and they all have a special someone eventually that they’d live and die for wether they want to admit it or not

Anywho if you read this far, thank you for listening to my nonsense

[blackberrysummerblog]

Thank you for the tags @monbons! And to @brilla-brilla-estrellita and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tags on Wednesday. I’ve given up on ever being able to not describe a week as having been crazy busy, but I will say every time I get a tag I’m startled that it’s Wednesday/Sunday already. This year has gone so fast!

Anyway, I do have a little to share from my COBB with @rimeswithpurple, whose artwork is currently the wallpaper for both my phone and my ipad. I’ll add that the character in next chapter’s banner is just so cute I can’t get over it. Here’s a little Dev POV from Baz’s shop:

“I’m stressed,” I say, pointing to the word calming on the label.

The git actually rolls his eyes at me. “For skin. It’s calming for your skin,” he says, snatching the bottle up. “Like, redness? Irritation?”

“If it calms irritants, maybe you should put some on,” I reply coolly, leaning back in the large window seat at the front of the shop and crossing my arms. “Go on, Neal. Slather your whole self in it.”

Shepard sucks in a breath but Gareth snickers. Good man. I slide my eyes toward where Baz is perusing some book at the register, either accounting for inventory or reviewing a recipe, I can’t be sure.

“My name is Niall,” Niall seethes, his complexion taking on an interesting colour as he looks me up and down. It feels unpleasant, like he’s taking a measurement that’s coming up gravely short. I can’t imagine why, though. I look as good as ever today, in spite of feeling utterly knackered. My hair is shiny and lying perfectly as usual, and I’m wearing skintight leather trousers with a long-sleeved sheer top in a shade of blue that particularly flatters me, unbuttoned down to there. I narrow my eyes at Niall and return the judgement in spades. He looks sickly, and his otherwise lovely thick hair is pulled up into a bun that’s giving grandmotherly vibes. His eyes are a muddy shade of blue that can only mean he’s tried to spell the colour, and I’d bet my left big toe that whatever hue of brown they are in reality would suit him much better.

I also did a little writing (finally!) for The Field Trap, which is a sequel to Field Trip of Dreams. This is Possibelf’s POV :)

Davy doesn’t even look up as they push their way through the line to stand in front of him. “Simon, Basilton,” he says as he checks off their names. “I trust you boys kissed and made up.” If he hears the rest of the class tittering, he gives no indication.

The Pitch boy smirks like the cat who got the cream. “We did indeed, sir,” he replies.

“Good,” Davy says in a tone that implies they should move along and climb aboard the coach, but Simon is clearly building up a head of steam. He’s gone red in the face and although he hasn’t started smoking yet, that’s what’s always next when it comes to Basil. I take a deep breath with the intent to diffuse the situation, but before I can open my mouth, Simon has turned to Basil and taken him by the back of the neck.

I hope everyone has a great week! No-pressure tags to: @palimpsessed, @thewholelemon, @hushed-chorus, @artsyunderstudy, @nausikaaa, @larkral, @cutestkilla, @stardustasincocaine, @letraspal, @valeffelees, @tender-ministrations, @mooncello, @youarenevertooold, @imagineacoolusername, @shrekgogurt, @iamamythologicalcreature, @j-nipper-95, @aristocratic-otter, @facewithoutheart, @beastmonstertitan, @drowninginships, @stitchy-queerista, @bookish-bogwitch, @asocialpessimist, @ic3-que3n, @raenestee, @arthurkko, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @alexalexinii, @fiend-for-culture, @ileadacharmedlife, @supercutedinosaurs, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @shutup-andletme-go, @roomwithanopenfire, @forabeatofadrum, @prettygoododds @orange-peony, @c0nsumemy5oul and anyone else who’d like to share!

[somber-sapphic]

Hi!! Um so I just read your Carina DeLuca x Maya Bishop x Reader and now I’m opposed. Your writing got me into this ship and this show bahaha- and speaking of your writing I f*cking love it. Literally lights up my day/days whenever I read one of your posts and I get so excited ahaha so legitimately thank you🥲 if possible could you do another one of Carina DeLuca x Maya Bishop x Reader? Idrc about what prompt, just like a bad situation, to worse to better you know. If you don’t want to write for them I’d love to read another WandaNat x Reader🫣 (but if u really need a prompt something like insult to injury) thank you!

I hope you’re doing okay and it’s okay if you aren’t <3 and hopefully u are taking care of yourself. I’ve been reading ur fics for ages so if u ever need like a randoms imaginary shoulder to cry on I’ve got you ;) 🌸

Worse Alone

I am so, so sorry it took me so long to get to you 🌸! I can't express in words how much what you said means to me though, like (and I say this a lot, I know, but it's true) stuff like this truly gives me so much motivation. I love you so much and I will give you my imaginary shoulder any day that you need it. Btw, you don't have to sensor your swears unless you truly want to, I am the queen of obscenities <3

[[Summary]] Smoke and semi-working lungs don't go too well together. But you have a job to do. (marina x reader)

Word Count: 1.8k

-----

A five-hour blaze wasn’t something that anyone wanted to deal with, but it was something that you and your team knew how to deal with. Of course, it was dangerous for everyone around, but it was also thrilling. You all ran into fires for a reason, the eight of you were adrenaline junkies who felt the irresistible need to save lives. 

Every so often after a particularly rough day Maya, Carina, and you would just curl up together in bed, no one sleeping despite how exhausted the three of you would be. The brunette would alternate between stroking your hair and rubbing Maya’s back, cushioned in between the two of you as if she needed the pressure to prove to her that you both were safe. 

To call today a ‘rough day’ would be an understatement. Thankfully everyone had survived, but a young woman had been sent to Grey Sloan with severe burns, screaming about her baby. The baby, a severely annoyed two-year-old, was thankfully fine. The little boy had been distracted fairly quickly as the other paramedics checked him over, focusing on the stethoscope which he for some reason found absolutely fascinating. 

His mother was rushed to the burn unit but from what you and everyone else knew she was holding strong and the boy's other mom was taking care of him. That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part was that your body was utterly pissed with you for deciding to treat it so badly and it was taking it out on you at the worst possible time. 

You had done the best that you could when it came to fighting the blaze, resisting the urge to attach yourself to an oxygen tank even when you were outside of the house, away from the smoke. Entering the house was an atrocious idea, but your girlfriend was in there. You had ignored Andy’s orders and raced to rescue the woman you loved.

The blonde knew that you weren’t feeling very well, she had heard you coughing in the bathroom before the call had come in and had tried to convince you to go home. Then of course the alarm sounded and there was nothing that either of you could do. Sure you wanted to be anywhere but inside a burning building with your lungs already starved for oxygen, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. 

Maya was fine, momentarily hindered when a piece of the roof collapsed leaving her needing to find a new way to get herself out. You had helped despite her protests that she could do it on her own and that you needed to leave. Instead of doing what she asked of you, you took the time to help her get out, working strategically and quickly around the debris. 

You made it through without passing out even a little bit and the fire was finally extinguished. When you got outside you pulled your helmet off and half stumbled over to Ben in search of oxygen. He noticed your struggle and passed over a mask, asking repeatedly if you were okay as you sat down on the bumper of the Aid Car, your gear practically pulling you down. Gravity was not working in your favor. 

“Y/n, let me take your jacket off,” Ben ordered, sounding like a doctor. He was a doctor. The damn man had too many careers, it sometimes frustrated you just how accomplished he was. 

“Back off, Probie.” You rasped, shrugging him away. Technically you had rank over him, so technically you could order him around. The loophole totally worked for you as long as it mean that he’d leave you alone. You didn’t have any problem with Ben as a person, he was actually a pretty nice dude, but you had absolutely no wish to be ‘Doctored’ right now.

You were expecting to be yelled at, but thankfully Andy hadn’t come over to shout while you were still on the scene. You could see her casting you frustrated looks while she talked to your girlfriend, but left it alone. That only lasted until you got to the station.

“L/n!” Andy yelled, stomping over to you. She looked angry but also concerned. Maya was beside her, wearing a similar expression. “What the hell were you thinking? You endangered every one of us!” The captain snapped, glaring down at you. 

You stood to meet her gaze, trying to look less weak than you felt. Fighting her on this was probably a poor decision, but you had no intention to take this lying down. 

“I was doing my job, Captain.” You bit back. Andy bristled at the comment, rage hardening in her eyes. The woman beside her bit back what would definitely be a remake would probably upset everyone and reserved herself to a slight shake of the head. 

“Check. Your. Tone. L/n. I am your boss, not your punching bag. I don’t care that you aren’t feeling well, that doesn’t give you an excuse to be an ass. You could have gotten yourself and others hurt.” Now it was your turn to bristle. 

“Maya was trapped, she needed-”

“She needed you to do what you are told instead of ignoring direct orders. You aren’t the only one on this team Y/n, do you understand that? If you ever do something so stupid again I will have you suspended. For now, you will be taking two weeks paid leave. Take care of yourself. Come back when you’re done making stupid decisions.” Her voice softened on the last sentence, expression fading from stern boss to worried friend. 

You sagged slightly, shrugged, and looked over at Maya in hopes to find support there. 

“Come on Y/n. Carina’s off today, I bet she’ll make you some soup.” She held out a hand and part of you didn’t want to take it. Part of you wanted to prove yourself to your boss, but Maya’s offer was too good to pass up. Carina made the best soup and she was always so good at knowing exactly what you needed. 

You took the hand and allowed yourself to be led out of the station, ignoring everyone’s kind words and well wishes. Maya got you situated in the car, both of you silent. She was incredibly gentle, brushing your hair away from your face and lingering a bit with her touches, but she was still frustrated with you. It was okay, you understood. You had scared her. 

The ride home was quick and quiet. You were half asleep and Maya was listening to the radio, your cough overpowering the soft music. Carina would probably insist that you sleep with at least two humidifiers tonight, but it wouldn't matter, at least you’d be with them. 

You let your eyes slip closed and you leaned against the cool window, shivering in your loose clothes. You wanted your bed and someone to hold you. Unfortunately, you’d have to wait for those things. They’d probably make you shower before you were allowed to climb into the bed.

You were right. The second you got into the house Carina was all over you, asking a flurry of questions and speaking in rapid-fire Italian about your condition. Normally you loved to listen to speak the language that you didn't understand, but now it was just messing with your mind. 

She had ordered you and Maya into the bathroom, promising to have your room made up with whatever she believed that you would need to feel better. The shower was nice enough. Maya washed your hair, allowing you to lean back against her in your exhaustion. It was tough to stay standing, but she was there, making sure that you would be okay. 

“M’sorry.” You rasped, blinking teary eyes at the worried looking blonde. She tilted her head to the side and smiled, gripping your elbows tightly. 

“Babe, I just want you to be safe. I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I wish that you had told one of us sooner, then you would have gotten to be with Carina all day. It could have been a good day, not an awful one. Okay?” You nodded your understanding and sniffled softly, your nose running in what you were sure was a disgusting way. Maya looked at you lovingly nonetheless. 

When the brunette said that she was going to get everything you could possibly need, she had really meant it. The room that the three of you shared was decked out in everything one would want for a sick day. Boxes of tissues, a mug of tea on the bedside sitting beside a glass of apple juice, three humidifiers, a bottle of cold medicine, a fluffy blanket, and extra pillows.

“You did that pretty fast, Car.” You forced out, climbing into the bed with the help of both of your girlfriends. Maya followed and wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you close while Carina measured out a dose of medicine. 

“Si, I work quickly. Now open your mouth, I want to see how high your temperature is.” She was in work mode right now, they’d be time for joking after you did what you were told. You pouted but opened your mouth, holding the thermometer under your tongue. The brunette carded her fingers through your hair as you waited for the reading, looking utterly disappointed. 

“102.3, oh Y/n, no wonder you do not feel well. Take this, alright? Then you can go to sleep.” She kissed your forehead, prompting you to obey her wishes. You were a sucker for physical attention, even more so when you were sick. 

The medicine tasted like you licked a fake plastic cherry and stung your throat, but it was what it was. Both women smiled when you finished it and you got twin kisses on each of your cheeks. These women were amazing. 

You felt your eyes fill with tears and you ducked your head, not wanting to show them that you were about to cry. That was just too much, they didn’t need to deal with your unnecessary emotions at the same time. 

“Oh baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Maya crooned, tilting your chin back up so that you were forced to meet her crystal blue eyes. You felt Carina’s arms slip around your waist as she sat on your other side and that was about all that you could take. 

You broke into stifled sobs and pressed your head against the blonde's shoulder in search of comfort. You didn’t want to talk about it, you just wanted to cry. Which was stupid, because earlier you had been completely fine. Now you were bawling like a baby in the arms of your girlfriends. 

Neither of them said anything while you cried, they just let you, holding you close until you were too tired to cry anymore. You didn’t actually remember falling asleep, all that you knew was that one minute it was dark out, and the next you were laying down with your head on Carina’s chest, both of the women asleep beside you. 

Your body still hurt and you still felt disgusting, but at least you weren’t alone. Being sick and alone was worse than being sick with people who loved you.

[azsazz]

SJM Ask Game

Thank you for the tag @daydreaming-nerd !! 💙💙 (I do want to hear those redacted answers for where you put tharion lol) I feel like it's been so long since I've been on tumblr or even done one of these but I'm excited💙

1) What’s your favourite SJM book?

Hmmmm I'm gonna say ACOMAF because that's when I was first introduced to Azzy and the obsession began 💙😈

2) Which is your favourite series (tog, acotar or cc)

If you don't know me, CC is one of the worst books I've ever read. It's hard to choose between ACOTAR and TOG tho because they were both really good....

3) Who is your favourite character? (And why?)

Hehehehehehehehe. Az obviously 🥰

4) Do you have a favourite quote from one of the books?

Hmmmm...tbh not really...the ones that stay stuck in my head are the cringey ones...BUT, let's go with "Cassian shot him a glare. 'I don't see you spouting poetry, brother.' Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly, 'I don't need to resort to it.'" THAT'S GODDAMN RIGHT BBY YOU DONT 💙💙 legs spread for mah boi

5) Favourite ship?

Azris frfr

6) Elriel or Gwynriel? Or neither?

Azris frfr

7) Who’s the most underrated SJM character?

Oooof there's so many. Fenrys. I've never gotten enough of him.

8) Which character do you wish to learn more about?

Azris frfr. I want both of their backstories rn

9) Are there any characters you don’t like?

Bryce Quinlan and Danika Fendyr

10) Favourite bat boy?

My king azriel 💙💙

11) Favourite court?/ Which one would you most like to live in?

Honestly I'd probably either live in Autumn or Night tbh.

12) Favourite SJM villain?

Does Tamlin count? lol.

13) If you could change one thing in any of the books what would it be?

That CC never happened

14) Favourite SJM theory?

Azris frfr

15) Favourite Archeron sister?

Prob Ness

16) A character you feel is over-hated/ underrated:

over-rated: bryce quinlan

under-rated: chaol 💙

17) Aelin, Bryce, or Feyre?

Aelin!!

18) What’s your favourite character from each series?

Fenrys, Azriel, Ruhn

19) If you wrote an acotar book what would you call it?

A Court of Smoke and Cinders? (azris frfr)

20) Who is your favourite acotar blogger?

nah there's literally too many to choose from

21)What fics would you recommend to people who love the series?

The Serpent and the Wings of Night

Questions for writers

22) Easiest character to write for?

Azzy because i built him brick by brick

23) Hardest character to write for?

LUCIEN. IDK WHY

24) What’s a character you’d like to write for but haven’t yet?

lol who haven't i written for? hmmmm...maybe fenrys, aedion, or hunt?

25) What’s a court you’d like to write about more?

Dawn!

26) What’s a character you won’t write for and why?

hmmm...idk I'd like to say that I'd try anything once...

27) If you could only write for one character ever again, who would you pick?

azzy. nobody compares to him

28) Whats your favourite trope to write about when it comes to Azriel?

right now i think modern aus...in any sort. or anything that involves angst i love putting everyone thru some shit

29) What do you think is the best/favourite acotar fic you’ve written?

hmmmm...i feel like this is impossible to choose

30) Who are your favourite friendships to write about?

eris x anyone because this man needs a friend

31) For first time readers to your blog, which three fics would you recommend they read?

LMAO ummm...I'll list at least one for. every character

Az: Cupid's Chokehold or Midnight Muse

Cass: In Storm or Dial Drunk or Better Men Have Hit Their Knees and Bigger Men Have Died

Eris: You Know I Always Liked Playing with Fire or Hide

Rhys: Clandestine Love or Dioxazine

Lucien: The Other Woman or My Happy Ending

or literally any poly can't go wrong with those tbh

No pressure tags: @writingsbychlo @acourtofwhatthefuck @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @azrielhours @a-frog-with-a-laptop or anyone else who wants to participate!

[anastasiaskarsgard]

To my only regret

“What if we just ran away? Leave all this behind... you aren’t happy. Not really.” the statuesque beauty pleaded to the only man she ever loved.

Vincent de Gramont turned to her with a look of utter disgust. “You would have me run and hide? Have you no faith in me? No honor?” taking a drag from a cigarette, he proceeded to blow the smoke in her face. “Get out of my sight, before I do something i will regret.”

The beauty coughed and wheezed as she tried to dispel the smoke. fanning her hand in front of her face she looked at him desperately. “Baby, I only need you! We don’t need all this. We just need each other,,…”

“I SAID OUT OF MY FACE BITCH!” The Marquis shouted, before shoving the woman to the floor. “Great. Now I’m the asshole. Perfect. Are you happy?”

The beautiful woman rose to her feet, tears spilling down her face. Raising her nose in the air, she turned and left him alone in the sprawling mansion they’d called home.

That was four years ago.

Vincent stood staring out the window, not seeing anything, but he was remembering. Remembering her tear streaked face, when she had looked up at him from the floor. He should have recognized the finality in her eyes, and chased after her.

He had been too proud at the time.

Despite employing some of the most skilled trackers and bounty hunters that Money could buy, she had been impossible to find. It was as if she had completely disappeared. Every day and every night he was told that they had failed to find her, he became that much more obsessed. She belonged to him, and he hated losing his things.

Pressing the intercom button on his desk, he ordered his assistant to call the last guy you call, if all else fails: Trejo.

Trejo was rumored to have a 100% success rate with locating anyone. In spite of that, you only called him as a last resort. because Trejo didn’t work for money, he only traded in favors. And not any set type of favor either. He could ask for anything, at any time.

Rumors swirled on the things he had demanded from clients, ranging from a night with one clients wife, a heart transplant from another clients child to save one of his own, or to pardon a buddy of his from death row. There'd also been a few more reasonable requests like a rare Hermes bag for some guys wife, and a pet snow leopard. Something like that was easy for him

The Marquis was a very powerful man, with nearly endless resources, but he hated the idea of being in debt to anyone.

He had risen to the top and answered to no one. He was even more powerful than he had been when she ran out of his life. Up until now, he had refused to admit he was so desperate to find her. But the reality of his situation was the memory of her, and not knowing if she was safe, was driving him insane.

“Lilly.” He groaned as he fell back into his chair. “You have been such a bad girl.”

Across the world

“Oh come on, it’s just the fair! No pressure, but I’d like for you to just meet him. He’s such a great guy, and very private.” Lisa begged her friend Lilly, that lived outside of their small town, in a quaint cottage in the woods.

Lisa had always been a warm social person, and three years ago when she heard about the gorgeous French woman that quietly moved in the old cottage, she had made it her personal mission to get to know her.

It hadn’t been easy. Lily had been standoffish and extremely introverted. Lisa had thought she was shy at first, but as time went on she started to think that Lilly was running from something. With how drop dead gorgeous she was, she was sure it was a man.

Every unmarried male, and a lot of the married ones too, would give their right arm to take Lilly on a date. Unfortunately she showed no interest in any males, or the handful of females that had tried either. Lisa started to back her up, by informing g all hopeful suitors that lilly preferred her solitude.

And she had been prepared to accept that her friend was a loner, even if she could not wrap her head around it. But then she'd been at the store the other day, talking to James, and Lilly had waved hello, and James had asked to meet her.

James was Lisas older brother, that every girl in town wanted to marry. She'd had her feelings hurt several times over the years, when she had discovered most of her girl friends were only after her brother. He was too focused on sports and school to even notice any of them, and didn't like the sort of girls that threw themselves at him, so he'd avoided dating anyone all through school.

When he'd moved away for college, everyone thought he'd come back and visit someday. He'd be a successful executive, in a fancy SUV, with a perfect wife and a couple perfectly polished children. He'd always been so focused on his goals, good at everything, and liked by everyone he met, so everyone was convinced he'd never be back.

Lisa had always wondered why nobody wondered if he was gay. There were not any openly gay people in town back then, but he had met a lot of the stereotypical gay checkmarks she saw on TV. He was a pretty boy, that dressed impeccably well, for the area. His room was always spotless and organized, and he had a skin routine. He was very much into self care, and followed a strict diet to maintain his physique. He listened to EDM music, and he turned down all the beautiful women in town. In spite of these signs, not one person questioned his sexuality. She would love him no matter what and that had been that, but she agreed that he'd never move back to their small town.

That was until three months ago when he'd shown up out of the blue to tell her he'd bought a house and was there to stay. He'd bought the Myrtle House on the hill, and was restoring the old Victorian mansion to its former glory. It had seemed odd to her, that a single man would buy a mansion large enough to house 10 families, but it was a very pretty home, and if she had the money, she'd likely have bought it too.

"Well you remember that man I was standing with at the market the other day?" Lisa didn't wait for an answer and just rambled on, "that's my older brother that is restoring that mansion on the hill. He works on that place around the clock, getting it up to standard. Now it was never run down, it was just a bit old fashioned, and a lot of house for most people to keep up with. Just dusting the whole place with all those antiques, is actually one woman's full time job. He has a few house people and grounds people to keep up the maintenance. He's modernizing it functionally, but trying to keep it authentic aesthetically, whatever that means. I never know what he's talking about, but he's actually taking a break and coming to the fair with me and the kids! This never happens, he's like you and prefers his solitude. But oh if I could get my two favorite hermit people, to eat some cotton candy with me, before risking our lives on some rides, that some felon puttogether in 20 minutes, while chain smoking a pack of Newports, I could die happy."

Lilly looked at her friends hopeful expression, and bit back the automatic denial she was about to deliver. It has been three years, and she had taken the necessary steps to disappear. Cut ties with all her friends and family, and kept to herself. If Vince hadn't found her by now, then he probably never even bothered to look, and she'd gone through all that trouble for nothing.

“You know what? Okay. I’ll go to the state fair with you tomorrow. Maybe I'll even make another friend."

Lisa nearly fell out of her chair. Recovering from her shock quickly, she jumped to her feet and hopped up and down clapping. “Oh my god I am so excited. You won’t regret this. I gotta head out, but we’ll be by tomorrow about 5 to pick you up.”

The two women hugged, and Lilly couldn’t help but feel excited over the prospect of doing something so simple as going to a county fair. She had definitely noticed Lisa's brother the other day as well, who had been so shockingly handsome when they met eyes, that she'd lost her ability to speak, and had just waved like an idiot, and kept walking.

Running a brush through her long golden locks, Lilly wondered if all her caution was even necessary. Maybe she was flattering herself thinking Vincent would even come looking for her. He likely had a whole collection of new women to use whenever he saw fit.

She’d watched as the man she loved, became a monster with every bad deed. At first he had been so mysterious and exciting. Everyone knew that he was one of the few surviving families of the French aristocracy, and that he was gorgeous and wealthy, but that was about it. There were pictures of him at various wealthy people events, or the occasional article or magazine dedicated to what he allowed the public to know, but that was vague at best.

She'd been 22 and had thought her love could save him. That if she just loved him hard enough, and was obedient, it would soften his heart. When her friends told her he was controlling and possessive, she'd scoff and say it was protection. That was his love language in her mind. If he took care of you, and cared enough to take time out of his busy day, to keep you safe, than that was flattering. The security detail, location tracking in her jewelry, drivers, and 24 hour surveillance of where they lived were thoughtful precautionary measures. She had to quit working because she made less an hour than one of her security guys cost, and she had three. Plus she needed to be available when he had time to spend with him. He also was very fashionable, and expected her to always look clean and polished.. that in itself, was nearly a full time job..

The first year with him, she'd convinced herself that she just didn't understand how rich people operated, and rationized that he couldn't be a criminal,and famous at the same time. She had learned the art of fooling one self in record time.

The second year she had seen too much to deny the type of people he was involved with. Ever delusional,, she was still convinced they were the bad ones, not her Vincent. He was just a victim of circumstance.

By the third year, she could no longer lie to herself. He wasn't just involved or caught up with the wrong crowd. The Marquis de Gramont was their ring leader; their boss. And the most dangerous man in Paris. She was just another one of his things that he controlled with an iron fist. Everyone had been right.

Back across the world again..

The intercom buzzed and the Marquis took a deep breath before answering. His assistant had been successful in getting Trejo and connected the call.

"Bonsoir. J'ai besoin que tu trouves quelqu'un de très important."

"Shit, I have no idea what you said there, but let me just say it's an honor to finally speak with you Mister Marquis! Can I call you Vinnie?" The man boomed through the telephone.

The Marquis dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples. Hehated when people were so I formal with him, but he'd just have to let it slide for now. " That is fine. I need you to find someone very important to me. I need your absolute discretion and the target must not know she has been found. Can you accomplish this?"

"Shit yeah. You scratch my back amigo and I'll send you the address of that Lilly girl that ran out on you a few years back. I'll even get you a couple of nice pictures if you like."

The Marquis eyes shot open and he was temporarily stunned into silence. "How? When? Who?" He shook himself literally to get ahold of himself. He was nobility, not some bumbling peasant!

"I have always been pretty good at figuring out what people want, before they even know they want it." Trejo shared. "Now have we got ourselves a deal. I don't have a favor in mind yet, but I'm sure something will come up soon, you can help me with."

The Marquis fists clenched and he took a deep breath. He didn't even care about what this man desired. He'd have it. Nothing was too much for her. He'd go pick her up himself. Show her he'd forgiven her for her little tantrum, and she was never to do it again. She was his and that's all there was to it. She was coming home.

His Lilly

[lavendertales]

hello! may i please request a fic where javi sees the reader a couple weeks after a fight, they both don't talk to one another for a while (but use steve as a messenger for updates on each other because they're still best friends lmao pls). they don't know that either one loves them back and are afraid of confessing to each other, until one of them finally snaps and says 'i love you', a little soft and healing, just two friends losing each other along the way but love uniting them :')

p.s absolutely no pressure to write this! ♡

hii bby I hope you like this🥰

confessions—Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: 1.1k

You’ve had arguments in the past, disagreements of all sorts, but this last one takes the cake. You’ve never been this furious.

And no one’s ever seen Javier this furious before.

Even Steve, who worked with him and even lived in the same apartment building as him, has never seen him so worked up. There was shouting that day, words such as “stubborn”, “annoying”, “careless” and “moron” thrown around for anyone to hear. By the time you and Javier finished the screaming match, his face was all red, and your eyes were all teary when you walked away.

Now, it’s been days and you and Javier were still not on speaking terms. While your job at the embassy did not entail direct contact with any of the agents, sometimes you did go out of your way to interact with Javier. Perhaps it was childish and ridiculous, especially knowing about Javier’s promiscuous reputation, but you couldn’t help it. You liked Javier, not just for all the obvious reasons like his charm and his good looks. You liked him because he paid attention to details—a nice manicure, freshly cut hair or your favorite food. He was in actuality very kind and gentle when he wanted to be. Sometimes you even thought he might like you too.

But the last fight you had proved the opposite; he was far too stubborn and set in his ways to realize what should’ve been obvious, too far gone and lost in his vices—smoking, drinking and sleeping with brothel girls. Neither vice including you.

“I have some files for Javier to sign,” you told Steve with a bored look on your face. “Could you give these to him?”

“I could, but how about you give those to him personally?”

You stared at him unimpressed, even a little mean, but Steve didn’t back out.

“Come on, this is ridiculous,” he pushed. “It’s been over a week, would you just be civil?”

“I would if he wouldn’t be so fucking stubborn.”

“You know how he is.”

“I do, that’s why I maintain that he should be the one to apologize.”

“I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Then we’re not gonna talk for a long time.”

Steve huffed, sitting on the edge of your desk.

“Is this coming from a place of genuine concern or because you’re tired of running around delivering messages between us?” you asked rather amused.

“Let’s say genuine concern, but I am so very tired of this.”

You sighed. “Look, Steve, I’m not apologizing. The whole argument started because of him anyway, saying I shouldn’t have been on the field or whatever. But when I told him that Carrillo asked me to come to be a spy because no one would suspect me, he lost his mind even more!”

“Huh.”

“Yeah! I tried reasoning with him, but he kept calling me blind and stupid, so I called him a moron—“

Steve began to laugh, much to your dismay. You frowned, searching his face for an obvious answer, though none appeared.

“Why are you laughing?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Oh, you are both such idiots.”

Before Steve could explain himself and your head would explode, Javier made his dreaded entrance by walking past your desk, unable to refrain the glare he threw you and Steve.

“You idiot,” Steve called out to him, still amused.

“Excuse me?”

He was offended, and rightfully so. Javier crossed his arms at his chest, staring curiously at you two.

“You couldn’t have just told her why you didn’t want her on the field?” Steve continued. “Why you were ready to tell Carrillo ‘fuck you for suggesting this’ right to his face?”

“I did.”

“You called me stupid,” you added grudgingly.

Javier exchanged a glare with you, one which carried far too many sentiments to voice out loud, yet still beyond frustrated.

“I did and I stand by it,” Javier maintained.

“Seriously? You don’t think you were out of line, in any way?”

“No.”

You stood up from your desk, mirroring his posture as you approached him angrily. You could not believe someone would be this thick-headed, this purposely irritating for no good reason.

“You owe me an apology,” you said. “I was only following orders, just like you do all the time.”

“You’re not an agent. Carrillo was way out of fucking line to ask you to play the double agent.”

“It worked, didn’t it? I helped and you got the intel you needed, so what the hell is your problem?”

“My problem is you risking your life for things that we should do!”

“Why are you still so pissed off about this, my God!”

“Because I fucking love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Javier’s words, besides shocking, were in such stark contrast with your own; yours were vicious and angry while his remained soft, almost guilty.

“My job here is done,” Steve announced silently in the background before leaving the two of you alone.

“You—wait, you what?”

Javier exhaled, visibly uncomfortable now that the words have gotten out. Although his reputation preceded him, he is not one to openly flaunt personal affairs in the workplace. But thankfully, there was no one else around at the time, and whatever this was between you and Javier, Steve was clearly in the know, so no harm, no foul.

“I do,” Javier clarified, voice small. “I—I’m in love with you. Which you probably don’t give a shit about or don’t care... I know you hear the things some agents around here say about me. I’m not—boyfriend material.”

“You think I don’t give a shit?”

Javier shrugged.

“I don’t make excuses to come in early just to have my morning coffee with anyone else. I don’t go out of my way to give documents in hand to anyone else. I don’t do my nails a certain color because someone else told me they look.”

There was an “oh” perfectly readable on Javier’s face, the moment of realization kicking in seconds later. You giggled, shyly reaching for one of his hands.

“I pity the foolish woman who falls in love with Javier Peña because it’s a tough mission,” you said. “Renowned womanizer, killer charm and smile…”

“No more than that cute secretary they got over here at the embassy. One hell of a woman. He might easily fall for her too.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your lips, one of many to come.

[dreamchasernina]

Your opinion on "Love is a battlefield" comic ? I rly see some ppl on tumblr call a nice guy or incel cause of this.

I’ve been wanting to talk about that comic for a while so thank you for asking me this. So I got the lost adventure comics a month ago and I enjoyed them very much. When I got to this specific comic I suddenly remembered that everyone found it problematic so I was glad to finally read it myself to see what the problem was.

So if some of you haven't read this comic it's about Aang and Katara, where Katara pressures Aang into a training session to see him firebend. Aang thinks Katara wants to talk about their kiss right before the invasion, but is disappointed to see it’s not. Katara actively tries to avoid talking about that, so she starts attacking Aang so he would fight back. Aang locks himself in a rock like he does in the finale and tells Katara he doesn’t want to train, until he gives in, firebends the rock like a volcano almost hurting Katara. After which he just storms off.

I’ve read a lot of ATLA comics and some of them do have moments where the characters are not themselves. But, never have I seen a comic that mischaracterizes the characters as bad as this one. Genuinely, does Aang seem like someone who would get angry and lash out with his bending? Forget the avatar state, that’s when he is so consumed by rage he loses himself. I’m talking about Aang getting casually angry and actually bending in anger? Looking at the show Aang gets angry multiple times, in the great divide, in the finale, the chase, just to name a few…and never ever does he use bending in anger, EVER, except in The Desert because he is so consumed by his rage about losing Appa. The whole The Desert episode highlights how Aang is not himself, that’s why it’s so impactful, because Aang is a complete opposite of who he usually is. Outside of that episode, Aang never uses his bending in anger, ESPECIALLY at people he cares about.

And even more importantly, is this writer trying to tell me that after the storyline where Aang learns to fire bend and hurts Katara in his recklessness, he is so traumatized by that he swears off firebending completely, doesn't want to use it ever again until he discovers fire is not meant for destruction and he just needs to learn to control it...after all that YOU WANT TO TELL ME AANG RISKS HURTING KATARA AGAIN WITH FIREBEDNING BECAUSE HE GETS MAD???? WHAT IS THIS WRITER SMOKING. Talk about character assassination because what the hell is this? How was this ever approved? Two episodes before this comic is supposed to take place Aang tells Zuko “now I know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love”…he accepts Zuko because he admits he needs to control his bending so he doesn’t hurt anyone unintentionally…and you want me to believe 2 episode after this Aang almost hurts Katara unintentionally with the element he was afraid to use again for 2 seasons?? Truly, I do not understand how this got published.

Now, as obvious as it is that Aang is out of character in this comic a lot of people don’t notice that Katara is very much not herself either. BECAUSE THAT IS NOT KATARA PEOPLE! Katara, the most gentle and caring member of the Gaang, who has spent the entirety of the Bitter Work episode telling Toph not to put too much pressure on Aang and try positive reinforcement and a gentle nudge in the right direction to teach him…STARTS THROWING ICICLES AT AANG WHEN HE SAYS HE DOESNT WANT TO TRAIN AND IS VISIBLY UPSET???? She sneaks up on him, splashes water on him, laughs at him and then proceeds to attack him to force him to train. Oh yeah, that’s definitely Katara right there…this writer definitely knows the characters…

I don’t know who wrote this comic, I heard it’s a ZK shipper? If this was written by ZK shipper it suddenly makes sense because they wrote Aang exactly like Zuko would've behaved. Zuko is the one who’s known to lash out in anger and firebend at people he’s angry at, NOT AANG. Now, I can’t confirm nor deny this claim, again I don't know who this writer is, but I need them to sit their ass down and watch the damn show and never touch these characters again.

[memekais]

daredevil sentence starters. s1ep4: in the blood. feel free to change pronouns as needed!

we must look to the future where we will rule as kings.

i'm not the one that looks like they've been through the grinder. you really need to get some kind of body armor or something.

i would tell you i'm a big boy and not to be [worried].

maybe i just like the sound of your voice.

by "come by," do you mean stumble in, bleeding half to death?

you're gonna get yourself killed. you really gotta ease up.

so, what, you're just gonna go out there, punching whoever you can, hoping to find somebody who knows this guy?

apply enough pressure, someone will break. sooner or later.

i know how much your people delight in extolling the amount of pain they can endure, but maybe next time you could try ducking?

this is an offer, not an order. the choice of how we proceed is yours.

do you know why you don't want anyone saying your name? hmm? because it would betray that you're just a man.

you don't understand how lucky you are. count the angels on the head of a pin and move on.

i promised myself if we ever got free... we'd never lose what we had again. especially not to pride.

that's either very romantic or very sad.

a woman that can be bought isn't worth having.

when i was a kid, i used to dream what it would be like to.. live somewhere far away from here. somewhere beautiful.

time and distance, they afford a certain clarity.

i would do anything to make it a better place for people like you.

you answer, he stops hitting you. everyone is happy.

put the gun down, or i promise you will never hold anything in that hand again.

they underestimated what people in power would do to stay there.

chocolate was always my downfall.

tonight, i'm just a man enjoying the company of a captivating woman.

i'm sorry for getting you into this, i... i never thought that i'd be putting anyone else at risk.

i'm just trying to make my city a better place, that's all.

i'm scared. more than i've ever been in my life but you can do something about it. for all of us, [name].

i went out with you because... there's something different about you. not so sure it's a good thing now.

they say the past is etched in stone, but it isn't. it's... smoke, trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. buffeted by the passage of years, wishful thinking. but even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. the past can... never be completely erased. it lingers. like the scent of burning wood.