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poguehearted77 · 20 days ago

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Wild Child

summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.

smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).

The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.

Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.

Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.

"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."

You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.

"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.

She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.

You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.

"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.

You're about to break him, you can see it.

He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.

Broken.

He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.

It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.

The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.

"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.

The neighbours hated to see you coming.

You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.

You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.

With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.

Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.

One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.

The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.

The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.

A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.

As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.

"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.

"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."

There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.

"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.

The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.

The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.

He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.

"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.

"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.

Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.

"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."

The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."

With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.

God, it was good to have you back.

The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.

Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.

The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.

Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.

Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.

His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.

"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.

"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.

Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.

Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.

“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”

You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”

A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.

He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”

Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”

If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.

"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.

"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.

"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.

Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.

You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.

Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.

Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.

Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”

With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.

"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.

"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.

Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."

Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.

A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.

You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.

He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.

Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.

Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.

A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.

“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.

He was going to destroy you.

You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”

“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.

"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.

His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.

You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.

"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.

"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.

"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.

"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.

"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.

"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."

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chigirisprincess · 1 year ago

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Monstrous Oddities ࿐

— Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney.

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, monster fucking, diphallia (multiple cocks), dragon dicks, double penetration, marking (Neuvi), knotting, doggy style, semi public sex, daddy/sir kink (Wrio), barbed penis, overstimulation, phone sex, pussy whipped Lyney, creampies, unprotected sex, animalistic urges, dragon!neuvi, dogboy!wrio, catboy!lyney general dick headcanons. ⊹ Run time. 1.2k ⊹ Note. This came to me at 2am after reading some other headcanons I previously wrote. Enjoy <3

Dick Headcanons —

꧁ Neuvillette - Two is better than one ꧂

Specifications: 12”, scaled and slightly ribbed, thin tapered heads that’s perfect for kissing your cervix, and full, heavy balls twitch when you suck on them.

❥ Most presumed that aside from his pointed ears and penchant for plain water, that Monsieur Neuvillette was more human than dragon— they’d be incorrect of course but that’s knowledge only you get to relish in. ❥ Beneath his perfectly tailored slacks lay not one but two cocks. The peculiarities don’t end there, however, his cocks are slightly ribbed and scaly in a way that resembles a fish's scales. His cocks are tinged blue near his pelvis but the colouration is lost amongst the neatly trimmed puff of his pearly white pubes that trails up his abdomen. ❥ In spite of his years, Neuvillette is still rather unaccustomed to human convention. It took seeing your shocked expression to realize that most weren’t as well endowed as he was, nor were they likely to have two girthy cocks. So, it takes him a bit to learn how your body reacts to him and just how much you’re able to take. He’s willing to learn, he’s nothing if not dutiful and gentle. ❥ He learns that to take one of his cocks he’ll need to work you open with a couple of his thick fingers first. That is, of course, after he’s warmed you up with his forked, serpentine tongue that nearly engulfs the whole of your aching cunt. And that you’re sure to squirt if grinds his second cock into your throbbing clit as he fucks you. Since taking even one of his cocks is a challenge, more often than not, Neuvillette uses his second cock to stimulate your clit while his mouth is busy sucking and licking the tender skin of your neck and chest. He can’t help it, the need to leave you covered in signs of him is far too strong, that’s why he cums in and on your pussy. ❥ Once you’ve gotten used to the stretch, can take it with ease, and are feeling a little adventurous, Neuvillette doesn’t waste the chance to split you open on both of his cocks. Seeing you so full of him stirs something primal within him. It’s a feeling he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge him but it claws its way out of his chest with you. The urge to remind you that you’re his, and only his gets muddled between kisses to your tear stained cheeks. You’re his perfect pet, you take him so well, and he’ll be sure to remind you.

꧁ Wriothesley - The duke is a dog ꧂

Specifications: 8”, rosy, round bulbous head, girthy, with a thick knot nestled amongst a thatch of unruly, dark curls that drives him wild when you tug on them.

❥ Wriothesley’s sharp canines aren’t the only wolfish things about him. Below his belt resides a truly monstrous cock. You think it’s rather titillating, your mouth waters just at the sight of his fat knot but Wrio was rather weary, he knew it was a bit peculiar and didn’t want to scare you away. Those worries didn’t last too long. ❥ Jerking off was always a bit tiresome for Wrio. His knot ached to inflate inside of a warm, wet hole so his calloused, spit slick hands never satisfied that need. The first time he fucked you, he nearly came after pushing the tip in. Wrio was so sensitive, he hadn’t cum properly in far too long. He nearly tore your silk sheets from how tightly he gripped them as he willed himself to sink his cock a little deeper into your pussy. He wasn’t much a believer in Celestia but he felt like he ascended that first time … and every time after that. ❥ He didn’t knot you until you’d been together for two years. Though you swore you could take, that you wanted to take it, Wrio always worried he’d lose control. It wasn’t a feeling he liked. Wriothesley liked feeling in control, he liked how you willingly submitted to him, hushed cries of “daddy” or “sir” never far from your lips, adoration pooling within the depths of your eyes. But, he was grateful he loosened the reins. ❥ One stress filled evening snowballed into you splayed across his desk at the fortress, your puffy, aching cunt slick and throbbing with need for him on display. You were so wet, moaning so loudly for him, it was almost too easy for him to slip his knot into your weeping hole. Your wanton whimpers were forever burned into his memory as it began to swell inside of you, his rough skinned hands roaming all over your body as his teeth dug into the flesh of your shoulder. Your eyes glazed over and a shudder wracked through your body as he filled your cunt with his seed. He knew then that he spent far too long depriving himself and you. ❥ Wriothesley was gone after that, he just couldn’t go on knowing how sweet you sounded as you squealed and begged for him while filled with his knot and cum. Maybe he was greedy but you loved being his cockdrunk pup. So, it was a win-win.

꧁ Lyney - He has more tricks up his sleeves ꧂

Specifications: 5”, veiny, sensitive head, equally sensitive barbs, kissable hip bones, and a leaky tip that’s just begging for your kisses.

❥ While his sister Lynette possessed most of the outward cat-like traits that was carried down their lineage, most of Lyney’s feline genetics poked through in his personality and behaviour, except for his cock. His pretty, blush pink cock was barbed near the base. He once read that they were meant to aid mating but he found that they made his cock far too sensitive to touch. He could only bear to lightly graze the tips of his fingers over his shaft most days. More often than not, Lyney came untouched, blowing his load in his underwear from the friction of the fabric alone. ❥ The first time you sucked his cocked, he cried from how good it felt, pushing your head down until you gagged. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, far too blissed out to notice until afterward (to which he spent the next five minutes fawning over you and apologising). Now, Lyney didn’t fancy himself a hedonist but he quickly became addicted to the way you laved your tongue over his barbs, and grazed your teeth over the sensitive flesh. ❥ Lyney became overstimulated every time the two of you fucked. Though, that didn’t stop him from pushing himself past the point of sanity so that you’d cum on his cock. He felt selfish otherwise, and he found nothing more satisfying than bringing you to completion whether it be with his fingers, mouth, cock, or one of the many toys the two of you seemed to amass. So, even if he was on the brink of blacking out from the pleasure, his cock pink and raw, he was going to fuck you were just as far gone as he was. Even if it took hours. ❥ Sometimes he found himself getting hard just thinking about you. The mind was a fickle thing, it too often loved to play tricks. Like making Lyney’s innocent thoughts trickle into passion filled memories that left him aching and needy for you. He’d call you far too late into the night just to hear your voice as ground his palm against the weepy tip of cock, musing how much he missed the feel of your skin against his. He may have been cumbrained and addicted to your sweet cunt, but he was still a romantic.

#neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #lyney smut #lyney x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #gi smut #gi x reader #genshin impact x reader #wrio x reader #neuvilette smut #neuvilette x reader

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roosterforme · 18 days ago

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Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

--------------------------------

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once.

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like."

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

--------------------------------

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!"

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

-------------------------------

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

-------------------------------

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word.

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

---------------------------

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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sundrlands · 1 month ago

Text

‘significance’ j. sunderland x reader

minors dni

cw: light face slapping, light scent kink, sub/top j. sunderland x dom/bottom reader, oral, breath play if you squint, breeding kink, light spit play, dry humping. no depictions of specific characterizations in regards to the reader’s looks. reader has she/her pronouns.

summary: what happens when two deprived people meet by accident? a server and that odd man who’d always come to drink coffee every morning at 6am. from awkward conversation to a dinner that turned into rough, needy indulgence. it was easy, a deprived little thing like him… it was just too significant.

a/n: this is years after the events of sh— no mentioning of the events either. forgive me if this is all over the place… it’s definitely a long one. i kind of went wild while writing this one. there’s more smut than there is plot but nonetheless… i hope you enjoy my very first james sunderland fic.

there he goes again… that odd man… in the same spot he’d always sit in. the farthest table by the window with no one to accompany him besides himself.

james… that was his name. james sunderland.

he was kind enough to tell you this after the tenth time he’d come in. you didn’t have to ask or even tell him your own name… mostly because you didn’t know how to approach that level of conversation. you were just a server— giving the customers phony smiles, a ‘hi, how can i help you today?’ and the fakest kind of enthusiasm when any other would try to offer a joke out of curtesy.

yet something about him… his somber eyes— with light wash of rosy pink coloring the bags underneath them— that looked as if he was deep in thought… as if he were to be troubled by something… or someone from his past… the short stubble that grazed over his chin and upper lip, and his body language that seemed as if he never wanted to be bothered or probably never slept. his gaze always wandered around the diner, out the window or at the soft ripples within the mug he’d hold. sometimes… you found him staring at you, nervously looking away whenever your eyes connected. you never understood why though or what he could be thinking each time he looked at you, so you never asked or gave it much question.

james was just a stranger who came at the same time, almost every single day— six in the morning, as the sky still glowed its grey hues— not a minute early. not a minute late. the bell from the diner’s door ringing loud and brash with the thick of his boots stepping on every creaking, rotten floor board.

each time he’d come, you’d watch him to see if he’d do anything different. maybe he’d add in a sugar packet… two or three… or maybe he’d get a breakfast sandwich like mr.colemen always did— the trucker who you knew had a wife but still flirted with the older cook, ms.miles on tuesdays— or maybe he’d bring in someone he knew to occupy his time… he didn’t. it was the same each time. he’d arrive, ask for seating and sit— not wanting anything else but his coffee— black. no sugar. no cream, just like he liked it he said. he’d watch the steam from his cup vanish until it ran cold then take his sips that felt like a lifetime in between each one.

you couldn’t lie… you were fairly intrigued by him… it wasn’t as if you hadn’t had regulars come in just as much he does, if not more, but something about him seemed different… the expression he always wore… he always seemed so lost in thought yet… so attentive in his surroundings. something in you wanted to know who he was.

each time you gave him a cup of his favorite black coffee, you couldn’t help yourself but try to formulate conversation after he gave out his name… but he was always just so fucking vague… each sentence he spoke was watered down— that trickled slow like shallow water… simplistic and dry, running in a soothing hum.

it was pretty. the way he spoke.

you told him that too. a gentle, ‘you have a nice voice’ after he sung a sweet ‘thank you’ after setting the coffee down in front of his hands. he was awkward about it, like he hadn’t received a compliment like this one or a compliment at all. no words given other than that, having the conversation run flat and you walking away in regret thinking, ‘maybe that was too much’.

it only took one day when you had been off shift to see him sitting at a park bench, the one at the end of the town with his hands in his pockets, back slouched and those same somber eyes staring into the park’s pound to finally sit next to him and not feel the dynamic imbalance hit you like how it did in the diner.

“james!” your breath creating its soft clouds within the cold air as you softly spoke, vanishing as it rose.

“ah!” he hummed, “funny to see you here.” he looked at you… the blonde strands flowing against the wind, his attention fully on you instead of him quickly trying to look away. it was direct, like he stared from within your body… you didn’t expect a person like him to have such good eye contact… it almost made you nervous.

“no coffee today?” you replied, offering a smile.

“afraid not. im just on my lunch break… needed some fresh air.”

“may i ask where you work? hope that’s not improper of me to ask.” you laughed quietly, taking a real good look at him. he was almost like a statue… a rugged one. his lack of fashion sense…and his ability to hold so much expression all the while it being so bland and so cold.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his head back towards the pond, “no… no it’s not ‘improper’. it’s just an office job. pretty boring id say.”

“fitting.” you replied, “not that you’re boring! just… seems like a occupation you’d have is all.”

“i wouldn’t say that you’re wrong even if you did say that.” giving yet another humming chuckle.

you stayed for the time he had to spare. the conversation going just as you thought it would… awkward but he was sweet nonetheless. though it was the way it was, his words flowed with every sentence he spoke, like the gentle stream of the pond in front of you both or the thick clouds that scattered in the grey sky. it took you just a few moments to notice how pretty that man was. he exuded such odd comfort… and warmth that made you want to keep talking to him. listen to anything he said even if it meant nothing or sounded humorously stupid.

“well.” he sighed, grunting as he stood, “id love to keep… talking, but i have to go back.”

you nodded, exchanging your goodbyes as you watched him walk down the park’s path until his body disappeared in the distance.

and so, from then on it had been easier to talk to him. finding any way to get to know more about the odd man who only drank black coffee and stared at you from time to time. it started just at your workplace, quick and steady back and forth talk then at the park, then offering a time to spend together on your off day for breakfast.

that was the first time he had something other than coffee. it was the first time you saw him smile more than once… not a faint one… a real one— seeing how his teeth jumbled at the bottom of his mouth or the harsh smile lines appear by the sides of his lips.

the more you looked, the more you conjured how pathetic of a man james really was. his life seemed so dull… just like the springs occasional showers and faded blue skies… but he was like the sweetness of june— the warmth within this man was little to none but still, he captivated you with his odd charm even if he tried or didn’t. you couldn’t help yourself but to think it was so easy to get him flustered, to have him smile whenever you showed interest in whatever he spoke about… like a lost puppy who finally got attention after being alone for so long.

a slip of a compliment flowed in almost every other sentence, seeing him stutter in his words, choking up a thank you whenever he could. it was amusing… like an addiction. sewing your way into his life was oh so significant. he considered you a ‘friend’ to put it lightly, one who obviously stared at you whenever you weren’t looking: like at the pier. you stood in front of him, hearing the crows sing and the water waves crash against the wood— he’d eye down your frame, seeing the way your clothes hugged your form… dissociating the world’s music around you both with an open mouth and twiddling fingers.

each time, you acted as if you hadn’t noticed and maybe you were just that good for him to not pick up on it whenever you failed to mention or question why he’d stare so goddamn much. it didn’t matter anyway, you liked it just as much as he liked staring at you.

he’d sit stiff, noting how erect his back would be whenever you placed your hand on his shoulder, a soft grip given as you both spoke about whatever. he’d clear his throat whenever you stood a little too close to him, rubbing the tapered part of his hair on the back of his head with a line of ‘uh’ and ‘ums’ in between each word he spoke.

god… this man was just so pathetic.

“why don’t we have dinner?” you smiled as you turned towards him, the bustling chatter amongst the passing people as you both walked down the same park you and him had your first real conversation.

“oh.” he chirped, a quiet laugh intertwined in his speech, “sure. where?”

“my house.” you answered confidently. through the few months of you being his ‘friend’, it only seemed right, so you told him. you wanted him in a place of vulnerability. to rule out every other being that’d pass by or surround you while in public. you just wanted it to be you and him. him and you. “if that’s fine by you. im not too bad of a cook.”

“your house?” his voice fell flat but it was nothing that worried you. the ring of his monotone voice was thick and with how he reacted to your small gestures, you knew he was more than willing to oblige. “you don’t mind me… coming to your house?”

you gave a little nod and he gave a gentle smirk. james didn’t know what could happen once the dinner would happen but he had no reason to disagree… or even want to. he grew accustomed to your company, more than any coworker he had that tried to gather him for night drinks after tough shifts… or even the women who were so abrupt in their interest in him… the thin pencil skirts and revealing blazers. he didn’t care.

a date was given. four days from then after his early ending shift. and so time flew. he hadn’t come to the diner at six in the morning like he did, he wasn’t even at the spots he’d sit during his breaks from work. a part of you had been worried if he tried to avoid you, wondering why you haven’t seen him since your request. he wasn’t good at texting— sending him a ‘hi’ would only result to him replying a ‘hey’ three days later. you almost didn’t buy the groceries you needed to prepare or an outfit that wasn’t too much but definitely would grasp his attention.

luckily you did.

it had been the day and it was five in the afternoon, the sun setting itself and the wind blowing more rapidly, flowing with the night’s usual atmosphere. james stood at your door with the address you gave him not too long after he agreed for the dinner you proposed. he just stared at it’s wood, his heart racing without his mind fully understanding why. he was a grown man but too afraid to see your face until this very moment. so he’d stay in the house longer than he needed to without going to the diner in the mornings. he’d stay in his cubicle on his lunch break, finishing any extra assignments he needed done for his boss.

moments spent with his feet planted on the ground before he gave three knocks at your door. he waited, only for a minute before you opened the door. you were dressed so nicely opposed to his work outfit still on and the light fragrance of the food fumigating in the air, hitting his nose.

“you’re here.” you spoke, relieved that he hadn’t stood you up. “come in.”

and so he did. small talk was given, complimenting your abode and trinkets you had scattered all about, admiring the personality your home gave opposed to his apartment that was just there… only the essentials, almost soulless. you thanked him of course, going on about little things as he listened before you finished all that needed to be done for dinner— it was pasta. simple and easy to not fuck up.

two plates placed with wine in crystal glasses and forks being spun. you connected over the flavor of the sauce and the warmth of the garlic bread that complimented the pasta. everything went smoothly, more than you thought it would’ve. easy conversation with the add in of knowing more about who james was… though he was his usual vague self.

you couldn’t pinpoint why he had been or what was truly on his mind. in certain instances, he’d drift off, his eyes wavering with a slow chew before ending his sentence with something mundane. your curiosity kept prodding with each question you gave— he didn’t show feeling of intrusion but he wrapped around certain topics leaving you needing more to be answered.

it felt like twenty one questions… moreso… him answering yours than you were with his but his composure and hospitality hadn’t changed from his kind and awkward demeanor he’d always give. it took awhile before you realized you had been digging in his chest like a crow on a rotting corpse before you covered your mouth with a soft, inaudible gasp.

“ive been blabbering…” you say, shyly laughing as you continued the last of what was left on your plate.

“no.” he responded, his voice trickling like soothing raindrops against a windowsill, “you’re just curious.”

“that i am.” your eyebrows raising as you sipped the bitter red liquid of your wine, “but you’ve had enough.”

he shook his head, wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin as he gulped, “i enjoy the conversation. i just have a lot in my past im not too fond of is all.” you noticed his eyes again… that troublesome look… the blank stare. whatever happened seemed to had never left him. james was like a puzzle piece… all scattered… some pieces missing so the full picture could never be seen or even admired.

“don’t we all…” pursing your lips as you set your glass down, “…but that’s the beauty of life, yes? it’s shitty… things come and go. regret… wrapped in solace. but that only means you can make happier memories.” trying to be positive to remove anything he had stored in thought.

you saw his shoulders relax from its usual tension, his eyes finding their way towards yours with a thick silence being transferred between you two. “yeah.” he spoke, breaking the silence momentarily before it fell back. the white noise… the gentle buzz cradled your eardrums, sitting like a stone in both of your seats.

the contact between your eyes spoke a million words… ones that haven’t been spoken out loud— it was of interest, undeniable lust. from his constant gaze from when you once were strangers… his usual order of coffee, to the moments you spent together in numerous places to now. those pretty light eyes shook as they bounced from each part of what your body showed at the table. they were quick… hungry… without any hesitancy. he dared not to look away, enjoying the visual of your being in a place with no one around, just you both.

as for you… the feeling of his eyes felt like fire caressing your skin… as if his wherever his pupils directed themselves, you could feel. it felt like fingertips gliding underneath the fabric of your clothes… just as when he ate… the way his lips latched onto the silver of his fork— the unintentional sensual gesture as he slid it from his mouth and chewed. the coat of spit that was left across it, and the delicate way he held onto the spine of the wine glass. you wanted to replace the flavor of your homemade sauce with the flower of your labia… to feel the latch of his lips against your breast or on the sides of your neck. the way he ate gave you an intense feeling of need… greed… swelling indulgence. not to mention his goddamn voice… the voice you were already so found over— the subtle cracks and dips between certain vowels… how deep it was… how gentle it felt amongst the silence.

“james..?” you questioned, tilting your head slightly, almost in a trance by the tone of your voice.

he gulped roughly, already sensing whatever you were going to say by the look you gave. “yes?”

“may i kiss you?” the words flowing softly within a sigh, holding your breath as you waited for his answer.

he just stared at you, eyes blinking like a cat in comfort as he continued to stare. moments past… which felt like hours before he nodded.

you stood from your seat, his attentiveness not failing to follow you in whichever way you went, slowly walking towards him with your hand sliding against the rough stubble on his face. he exhaled through his nose, his eyes shutting closed, his body melting into your touch as if he longed for such embrace. he hummed… the vibration flickering against the tips of your fingers before you felt the warm air of his exhale against your lips. slowly you leaned, shaky breaths with a soft press of the lips.

his lips were so soft yet stiff, a long press, occupying the other side of his face with yet another hand, pulling his face closer to yours as you deepened it. james let you lead, his rough calloused hand grazing against your wrist with a gentle grip, simultaneously pulling you closer to his embrace.

at the touch of his lips, you felt yourself get jolted with pleasure in between your legs, the softness rushing to a hungered one— his lips opening, allowing your tongue to push through and taste the sweetness of his of spit. his mouth was warm and the muscle of his tongue slid into yours as spit started to slide down his chin… quickening breaths and an even louder hum than he ever gave.

with the sharp sound of the chair scraping against the floorboards, he scooted back, you unconsciously sitting onto his lap just to feel the growing bulge against his work pants. you sat right on it, feeling it press against your clothed cunt with a groan that wrapped around your tongue and down your throat. he felt big, and the throb of it excited you, having your hips think on its own with a heavy yet slow rut.

the hands that held onto your wrist fell at your hips, the tightness of his fingers digging into you as if he’d never want you to leave from his touch. your bodies molded into one, your breasts pressing against his heaving chest with your hands now gripping the back of his neck.

at release, your forehead pressed against his… his deep gasps sounding pathetic and irregular, lips ajar, trying to savor the feeling of your lips that were once on his. the creek of the chair upon your slow grinds were loud and obnoxious but that didn’t stop you from adding on more friction, loving the feeling of his hardening cock against you.

“let me… do what i want to you… let me make you feel good.” you whispered against his lips, feeling your words being sucked from his quickening gasps.

“please.” he whined… a sound you’d never heard before from a man, let alone one of business. his willingness in the subtle acceptance of him submitting to you had your mind fill with haze. the glisten of his eyes pleaded for something… anything… like he had never been touched before. “please…”

his face leaned in the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against the warmth of your skin, sharp inhales, devouring the perfume that coated it. light peppering kisses lining up and down, all along the side of your jaw. a smile crept up on your lips… you knew just from the sight of him that he was just a pathetic little thing. and with the way he acted just from a kiss… how hard he got with you sitting on his lap, you knew that whatever you did he’d grant you a reaction that would be better than any man has ever gave you or will give you.

you gripped the back of his head, a drunken stare as his lips still purse from the abrupt release of his kiss. “wait.” you breathed, pressing your finger in the center of his lips. he was so tantalizing… his eyes drooped with anticipation, knowing that since he has you now… his self control was little to none.

at the side of you finger, he kissed it, holding onto your wrist as you placed another finger against his lips. you watched and he watched you— his mouth slowly opening and guiding his fingers against his tongue. with hallowed cheeks he began to suck, bobbing his cute head down to the knuckle. curling your fingers, you felt his tongue slither in between, spit messily sliding down your palm and arm.

“good boy..” you praised, your voice in sync with the sounds of his sucks— a deeper whine trembling against your fingers at the sudden pet name.

you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at his reaction. he liked that? you thought. seems fitting.

sliding your fingers from his mouth, you gripped his chin, a gentle press given, “watch me.” you whisper and with a pull at your top, he watched. his eyes directing themselves at your breasts with an even quicker and excited exhale exuding from his whining lips. eyebrows furrowing at the need to touch, his hands hesitantly removing from your hips and curling, waiting for the okay to be able to grope them upon your request. unclasping your bra, they drooped prettily in his face, letting whatever you took off hit the floor beside the chair.

“come on pretty boy… touch them.” you slurred, your voice seductive, teasing him, watching how his eyes never left, just opening at the sight of your bare breasts. “i know you want to.”

he sighed, one that was pent up and riddled with eagerness. “oh my god…” his voice shook. james was driven by the lustrous nature of your body. captivating by the sounds that fell from your lips and the commands you spewed— each word directed itself at his cock, feeling it twitch and tighten at his pants. the way you were entranced by his eyes as he was with yours, looking up at them with admiration, need and desire that festered throughout his body, making him burn at the touch.

doe and gentle with a sweet song flowing in the disguise of a moan he sung. the single free strands laying against his skin, complimenting with the reds that blossomed at his cheeks.

‘i want her… i need her… all of her… i want it. i want it. i want it. i want it.’ he chanted in his brain— feeling as if he was going to pass out at how hard he was breathing— his hot mouth curling at the warm bud of your breast, tongue flicking at it’s hardened tip, pulling back with the gentle graze of his teeth until a pop was heard, pressing a series of kisses around your breasts.

you were drunk off the man. that poor pathetic odd man. his body calling for more… groping your breasts with vigor, feeling the shortness of his nails digging and molding them to his liking… and the little broken noises he made, so soft and sweet, higher than his usual tone. a fleeting glint of mischief glistened in your eyes, letting out a chuckle.

“that’s it…” your voice trailed, lifting your hips, starting to bounce on his lap, granting a broken moan to feather against your nipple.

“god… fucking dammit..” he exhaled, gritting his teeth as his body sunk into the chair, his feet planted harsher on the floorboards, bucking his hips upward, feeling the weight of you created more friction, his swelling cock pulsating. “don’t stop… please.” he whined, eyes squinted as drool fell from the side of his trembling lips.

your hands running in his warm blonde strands, “that’s a good boy.” you tightened your gasp, pulling it with a yank. he blinked slowly with a coo, “you like it when i bounce on it?” you teased.

he nods. his poor hips already tiring out, them stuttering at every upwards thrust. “yes ma’am… fuck it feels… it feels so good.”

planting your hands at his chest, you felt the fast pace of his heart, running your palms up his body until your fingers wrapped around his slender neck— each digit falling into his skin, hearing his strain. “poor baby… you wanna feel more don’t you?” you grunted, his head tilted back with your face hovering his. with a slight cock of your hand, it collided with the softness of his cheek, a loud yelping moan bouncing along the dining room walls.

“fu… fuck…” he stuttered, his lips almost at pout.

no woman had ever treated him this way, so rough and teasing and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. his nerves was heightened as his cheek burned with the faint remnants of your palm. never did he think he’d enjoy something like this, in fact… he was left speechless. the sight of his eyes looking more pleasing than they already looked. they never looked away from you, wanting to get every expression you gave… watching your lips as they continued to taunt him, needing to see the way your breasts bounced as you continued to rut against his lap above his pants.

“oh?” you chirped, noticing the deepening submission in his glare. “you liked that didn’t you?” your hips now stopping in its place.

weakly, he laughed, “i do.” his voice still so sultry and deep.

leaning closer to his face, your lips feathered his, exchanging breaths with shared smiles, “go on your knees and take it out for me.” your other hand sliding down slow until it cupped his bulge. removing yourself from his lap, now standing.

he lifted himself off the chair, taking off his bottoms and boxers. there he sat, like an obedient little thing, on his knees— his thick dick laying and jerking at every throb as it laid so delicately against his thigh— staring up at you adoringly with gleaming eyes, as if he had been admiring a star.

it wasn’t as if you necessarily thought about what he looked like underneath his boxers, but the sight of it made your eyes sparkle— it was so thick and long, it made your mouth water.

“james…” shocked and even more turned on at how pretty his dick was. the light graze of his brown pubes looking well kept. “fuck it’s so pretty.” running your finger down its side, hearing the most pathetic moan fall from his lips— his fists balling at the sudden touch. “needy little thing you are.”

it was cute. from the little slap you gave him and the way he wanted you to have your way, it only fed into the desire to treat this boy with some excitement. that dull life he had was now changed as thoughts puddled at your brain seeing this man look so weak as you stood to look at him.

“such a pathetic… pretty man.” you cooed, tilting your head, “and look at your dick.” his eyes dropping to watch it leak and pool at the flesh of his thigh. “it’s excited for me isn’t it?”

his fingers wrapping around his shaft, needing some type of friction… it was starting to get painful with how long it hadn’t been touched bare. whenever he was turned on in the comfort of his home, he’d jerk himself off until he fell asleep. over and over again until his wrist burned and his throat dried. he had no self control and with you around, he could cum just from your voice.

“take your hand off.”

“god i just…” he whimpered.

“mmh mmh.” your head shook, as you bent down, “hands off. i tell you when you can and can’t, do you understand?” placing your finger underneath his chin to raise it, seeing gentle plea in his eyes.

“yes ma’am.”

he felt belittled, unable to control his own person. a quick shiver fell down his spine, leaning closer into your embrace… just the soft touch of your finger gave him a bolt of pleasure. knowing if he touched himself, you’d slap him in retaliation. oh how he so desperately wanted that.

you unzipped your pants, stepping out from them, alongside your panties, already dripping against the inner of your thigh. placing a palm at the top of his head, your fingers gripped tight, angling yourself in front of his face.

he gulped roughly, staring at the swelling of your clit. “lick it.” without hesitation, his face fell in between your legs, his curved nose nudging against your clit as he inhaled, lapping his tongue in between the folds of your pussy.

the scent of it drove him wild— eyes rolling back as he continued to inhale, loud enough for you to hear. he smothered himself, the muscle of his tongue thickening with his lips latching it just to get the taste of you fully.

you were taken aback at how skilled his tongue was, how his nose stimulated your clit so lovingly with each bob of his head. obnoxious sucks radiated in the air with his fingers clasping against your thighs, hard enough to hurt.

moans trickled from your throat, gasping on the thick of the air, guiding him with the hand that gripped his hair. his tongue plunged deeply into your pussy, feeling his mold his muscle inside of your fleshy walls, thrusting his head to fuck your opening.

you felt yourself already needing to cum and that has never happened before. at least not this quick. the softness of his lips sucked so roughly and his tongue flicked so fast, your knees buckled inward, unable to keep up with the pace of his mouth.

“james…” your moans heightening in volume, your chest deepening after every breath you took, “your fucking mouth…”

his hair, all tattered and messy, with his eyes reddened from it almost tearing up because of the lack of air he was given, not stopping for a second as he drank in your arousal and your moans. a tingling sensation bounced off his body, circling through each part of his limbs.

the sounds of his sucks almost overpowering your moans itself, as he felt your meaty pussy flutter in and out his mouth loving how full you made his mouth.

“i can’t stop,” he gasped against your cunt, “it’s just so good… i love it, i fucking love it. fuck… fuck…” nothing in this man’s brain could made him stop. it was like he pushed himself in between your legs like he wanted to be apart of you— keeping his strength in his neck to keep his same motion.

removing himself to breathe, he gathered spit, directing at your clit and watching it drip before catching it in his mouth, rolling his tongue along the hood of your clit before latching on with hallowing cheeks. sucking in air, your body curled forward, feeling two of his fingers slide in the opening of your pussy. they curved as they started with long strides.

that ‘odd’ man surely knew how to please a cunt. fingers picking up its pace with the loud wet sounds interweaving the moans you both sung. “yes… yes… james…” you panted, his wrist steadying, feeling you leak against and down his knuckles. your walls clamping on his fingers like a heartbeat.

“im gonna..” you announced, your body trembling more than you could even control, your legs giving out with him quickly holding you up as much as he could— his face deepening in your cunt, grunting as he felt you cum against his tongue.

“mmmhm” he hummed over and over again, feeling you shudder against his face.

falling to your knees, your face was angled with his— his mouth wet all from his nose down to his chin. the sight of you, trying to compose yourself from the orgasm you had made him feel dizzy. “feel good?” he whispered, trailing your face from where it hung low, catching your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips, running your tongue at the flesh of his bottom, sucking it in your mouth with small nips before pulling back.

forming spit in your mouth, you held onto his cock, an immediate grunt rupturing from his throat, letting the spit falling down at his tip. brushing your thumb over it, lathering your spit down to his shaft.

“tighter… please…” he mumbled, foreheads now pressing as he watched your hand wrap around his throbbing and slightly veiny shaft, rolling your wrist in circular and jagged movements. tighter you held, hearing the sound of his throaty moans.

“like this?” you breath, quickening your pace. he deserved it.

lifting the bottom of his shirt, he placed the cloth in his mouth, seeing the light spread of hair that tracked up his navel and a hollowing abdomen at every whine he let out. “yes..” he gritted through his teeth.

his precum swaying around from the vigorous speed that continued to grow. he held his breath, brows knitted, body tense at the rhythmic pattern, veins channeling on your forearm with your fingers glazing against the underside of his tip. “look at me.” you whispered, his eyes slowly traveled up your body until they locked with yours.

you spoke of lust in both your gazes, hearing the wetness of his spit coated cock at every pump, hunger radiating in you both like you desperately needed this— shameless and passionate intimacy.

your body yearned to feel him inside and the way he stared at you— the burning sensation it brought you— made it difficult for you. you wanted to feel him stretch your cunt. pushing him back by the press of your palm against your shoulder, he lay. hovering over him, wrapping your leg over his waist before angling yourself over him.

slowly you slid down on him, never feeling something as big as his. even just from the tip, you felt yourself gasp heavily as you kept lowering yourself down onto him. “fuck you’re so… big…”

james continued his whines, eyes closing tight, his body shuttered… you were so warm, your fleshy walls holding him so comfortably. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body with his hands— sliding against your thighs, up your waist and momentarily on your breasts.

“you….” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, with you pushing more of him into you— textured and wet, with a heartbeat that cradled the shaft of his cock. “your pussy is sucking me in…” he groaned, his ass tensing.

all of you. the sight of it all, each movement you made. fuck, didn’t you drive him insane. at this moment, he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

your pussy gripped his cock, deeper it went, as if your grip was unable to let him go. each moan you let out, your pussy clammed and mimicked each word as it pulsated against him.

he couldn’t stay still, whimpering as you started to lightly bounce against him— hands planted on his chest with a slight roll of your hips. you couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of you, how full he made you. with you already cumming, it was hard to keep yourself steady, feeling yourself break down each time you lowered yourself.

pressing his hand on your back, he turned you both, now with you on your back laid against the floor, “let me pleasure you… please.” he begged, both hands placed on the sides of your head.

“fuck me like the good boy you are…”

and with that, it was as if a switch had been turned on in his brain. using one hand to grasp your thigh, “like this?” he breathed, his words as slow as his thrusts, his drowsy-like eyes running up against your face. gritting his teeth, sucking on the cool yet hot air, eyebrows knitting together. he placed his forehead against yours, your hand now sliding up to his neck— the pads of your fingers and thumb pressing down the sides of it, slowly tightening your grip. with struggling breaths, his hips continuing his rhythmic thrust yet trying to find the spot, the spot that will lead you into ecstasy.

the hand that held your thigh pressed it down further, his knees fixing itself at a better position, now his groin aiming downwards. his thrust now falling into slow, hungry pounds, his balls hitting just above your asshole. “does it feel good here…?” leaning down as he pressed wet kisses at the edge of your lips.

all you could give were responding moans, your body overstimulated by every movement he made.

each inward thrust, you could hear skin slapping against one another, your breasts mashing into each other. lips trailing down to your cheek, then to your ear, his tongue running at the side of your ear then switching to the next, groaning a series of ‘fucks’ and your name as the thrust started to increase in intensity. they were once slow, now holding more power, grunting at each inward hit. “god. your… pussy… feels… so…. soo fucking… so goood…” each word ending in a hitch.

his voice now holding a deeper, grosser tone, more animalistic as he grew pussy drunk at how you wrapped around him.

he enveloped your lips, inhaling and capturing your tongue in his mouth, sucking on its pink muscle, bobbing his head and swallowing any ounce of spit that rolled down to the back of his throat. your tongue slipped from his mouth, pressing a long kiss against his lips once more.

your mind transversed across what could possible be the gates of fucking heaven at this point. each twist and turn of his hips hitting spots your fingers could possible never do, your damp walls clamping around his girthy cock—greedily needing to paint your insides with his cum, over and over again if he could.

"it feels good, it's so good...." you trailed off, lips pressing together as you muffled a few moans of satisfaction that sounded nearly like his name—the tip of his relentless cock hitting sweet, sweet spots with each charging pound. your hands removing themselves, now dragging and scratching into his back, tugging the flesh leaving continuous marks onto his skin— causing him to wince in blissful pain.

the reverberating sounds of your name rolling off his tongue along with the desperate whines and groans of pleasure only elevated your lust "you're obsessed with my pussy," you whined, head thrown back at the intense plunges against your favored spot.

your promiscuous ways dragging him down in the mud, wanting to rut and fuck you like an untrained animal. that alluring voice of yours, cracking into a moan after you tried so desperately to tease him.

your concaving walls collapsing at his cock, walls with a flowery texture that ran against the pulsating veins of his dick. your wails rushing to his dick alongside your suction— with each inhale making its grasp tighter than before. your folds clasping at the sides of his shaft at every pull.

he place a thumb so kindly pressed at your slippery clit. circling it slow, with rougher presses at each thrust, it’s hood pushing back, feeling your wet, exposed bud nudge at the skin of his thumb. each run around, he could hear it, how your slick found it’s way all the way to your clit, making it harder for his thumb to be held in place.

his body loosened, with his hips now controlled, it’s speed rising with a longer pull and harder pound, body muggy with a thin layer of sweat, with your face buried in the inner corner of his neck.

“i don’t ever want to stop fucking you… your pussy is too good.” his voice ridged and strained.

rhythmical slaps of wet skin colliding as his balls felt a sharp sensation each time it bounced against the sweetness of your hole. your pussy’s heartbeat causing his eyes to roll, holding his breath and letting it out shakily.

“fuck me just like that james… just like that.” your eyes widening with your legs wrapping around his waist. “im close!”

“i don’t want to stop fucking you… i wish i could fuck you nonstop… i want to keep going…” his chest madly rattling against his ribcage.

shivers cascading through your arms as they gripped his hair firmly once again. your beings were joined in such an impassioned, fervid act of lustful ignited bursting flames out of your bodies. “can i..." he breathed out, voice hoarse, “can i breed you… please… please..”

the walls echoed sounds of your repeated pleasure lamentations followed by his needy words and melting into the increasing melody of skin against skin, lead you over the hill, "cum inside! do it baby…" you uttered directly into his eyes, the familiar knot forming at the pit of your abdomen, convusling cunt tightening around his sliding shaft with each thrust.

he couldn’t stop himself, feeling you cum on his cock made him bury himself further inside, hot spurts of his own cum filling you with rolling eyes and harsh gasps. glazed spit lips, bodies trembling from their high, and strained moans.

his arms snake around your body, cum oozing down his balls and thigh. “fuck….” his body not even finished with his high, slow thrust to chase after the leftover high you both breathed out.

“god james… who wouldn’t known you fucked so well…”

laid out on the floor, you both tried to catch your breaths. the contrast between every moment of you knowing one another to now, fucking each other like your life depended on it, you couldn’t help but laugh.

how significant is it to have a simple man— attractive at that— with his usual order of black coffee in your house, fucking you without a care in the world.

you knew… this wouldn’t be the last time.

#james sunderland smut #james sunderland x reader #james sunderland #james sunderland silent hill #james x reader #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 smut #silent hill x reader

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cookinguptales · 23 days ago

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oh my god, I might literally throw a party. I might literally buy myself a cake tonight. thank you, thank you, thank you, Pete Buttigieg.

things that have happened to me specifically while flying american:

being asked to stand in a very long line to check my bag before they'd let me have access to a wheelchair

not being picked up by an attendant in time to get to my flight despite arriving over two hours early

being loaded into a broken accessible bathroom. the door wouldn't close all the way so my naked body was visible to people in the terminal.

being refused restroom access at all, sometimes for hours at a time. I'd say that this one happens about 80% of the time when I fly, especially when getting off the plane.

being denied stops for food at the airport as well

being left outside a restroom for over an hour because the attendant straight-up left. I had to TWEET AT THE AIRPORT FOR HELP because I knew being public was the only thing that would work.

being left on plane for over 45 minutes for the same exact reason. once off the plane, I was left at the gate for an additional hour. my parents, waiting for me at baggage, were frantic. a gate agent got into a screaming match with a wheelchair attendant. it was wild.

having a wheelchair attendant harass me about my homosexuality the entire time they took me through the airport; I'd just come from pride and had an identifying t-shirt. I couldn't get away from them or their lectures about being a good christian.

never being collected for a connecting flight, forcing me to walk or miss the flight. I dislocated my shoulder trying to get there.

once I was loaded onto a shuttle but no one bothered UNloading me, so I had to bang on the glass to get passersby's attention

not being preboarded a solid... I'd say 20% of the time. this is important because preboarding means I don't need to stand for an extended period in a narrow aisle behind people putting their things away, and also provides me with additional space to put away my accessibility devices.

once this happened because the wheelchair attendant was late (as usual) and the gate attendant assured me they'd hold the line so the aisle would be clear. once I got down there, they refused to do this and wanted me to stand for 15 minutes, which would have been incredibly painful while holding my bags. I refused to board until the aisle was clear, so they started directing passengers around my wheelchair. it was only after a passenger straight up refused to board and blocked everyone else that the aisle was cleared and I was allowed to board.

I have also had passengers break rules to take me to the bathroom when I was literally weeping at the gate from how badly I needed to pee and how much I did not want to publicly wet myself. thank you to those passengers. (and the ones that yell that I need to be preboarded when they "forget" to do so.)

I've been told to get off the plane because my wheelchair was there, but got off the plane to find out that it wasn't -- and they wouldn't let me back on the plane. they wanted me to walk to baggage, but I couldn't. I sat down on the filthy floor of the bridge and wouldn't move until they brought a wheelchair, no matter how much they yelled at me and threatened me with security. what a fucking mess.

they have given away my seat near the front of the plane before and forced me to walk to the back of the plane. I was openly sobbing from the pain by the time I made it back there.

things that have happened while flying in general (TSA, other airlines, etc.):

(trigger warning for sexual assault)

TSA giving you the most invasive pat-downs you can imagine. if you remain in your wheelchair, often they will run their hands under your thighs, bottom, and genitalia. the weight of your own body means that I have had fingers part my outer labia through my pants. one I started crying during a pat-down because I am a survivor of CSA and they yelled at me then restarted the pat-down from the top.

I have had attendants refuse to help me with my belongings during security, instead insisting that I get out of the chair and do it myself

I have had security make me get out of the chair, then lose the chair until my legs gave out and I sat on the floor, which also got me yelled at

broken accessible bathrooms have happened at MULTIPLE airports.

delta has broken not one but TWO of my personal wheelchairs

once while boarding an attendant (who was already mad at me because I'd refused to walk up the steep tarmac ramp without wheelchair assistance) grabbed my cane while I was using it and I almost fell. I was never notified that this would be a tarmac boarding to begin with.

once, during a different tarmac boarding, they expected us to go down a flight of stairs, despite me being loaded onto the plane via wheelchair. I would not go down the stairs and they had to call for the lift to be brought. it took about a half hour, and the entire time the attendants kept asking me if I really needed it and wouldn't I just go down the stairs? like I was just being a recalcitrant child and not someone who's broken her ankle stepping off a curb before.

honestly the refusal to let me eat and pee is pretty universal, as is wheelchair attendants ghosting me, refusing to talk to me, acting like they're transporting luggage instead of a person, etc.

believe it or not, that is not an exhaustive list. they're just the first examples that come to mind. whenever I fly and it goes completely smoothly, that's more of a shock.

and like... it's dehumanizing. it really is. not being allowed to go to the restroom? having people refuse to talk to you? being abandoned in random hallways?

I'm always in so much pain after I fly, a fact that is generally worsened by poor treatment at the airport, and even the literal dislocations have hurt less than being treated like I'm less of a human person than my fellow passengers.

so uh. rock on, Buttigieg. fine them into fucking oblivion. I'll be cheering you on the whole way.

#ableism #disability #us politics

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distantdarlings · 10 months ago

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PARTING THE SILENCE // t. nott

RATING: R / 2.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theo plans a special evening for the two of you on the night of your anniversary.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Virgin!Reader, Dom!Theo, Gender-Neutral Reader, losing virginity, language, piv - no protection, fingering (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HEAVEN - Isabel LaRosa

(Quick note: This is not entirely proof-read and was originally written with a fem reader before I realized the gender is not specified in the request. I tried to rewrite w/ a gender-neutral reader, but if I've missed something, please let me know! Thanks!)

---

Your foot tapped impatiently against the leg of your desk as you anxiously awaited the end of class. Your eyes glanced around aimlessly, attempting to catch a glimpse of the sun. Perhaps you’d be able to get an idea of what time it was.

“Okay, that is the end of my lecture for today!” Professor Flitwick announced. With a flick of his wand, dozens of textbooks flew toward the students. They were small and very old with cracked bindings, but they held the class’ homework for the rest of the week.

Once you selected yours and shoved it into your bag, you were practically already out the door. Your boyfriend, Theo Nott, had promised a romantic evening for your anniversary, and you weren’t planning on being late.

You shouldered your bag and exited the Charms classroom with your dormitory in mind. Every other student that was trying to get to the Great Hall or to Hogsmeade crossed the halls, making it near impossible for you to wiggle through each one. It was like an ocean constantly pushing against you.

Past staircases and groups of students, you’d finally managed to get back to your house's common room. You ignored the growl in your stomach as the scent from the kitchens wafted through the hair. Surely, they’d had nothing but distraction in mind when they put the Hufflepuffs right next to the kitchens. You rolled your eyes.

You didn’t need to eat anything right now. Theo had planned dinner just for you, and you wanted to be able to eat as much as you could if it. You didn’t want to show up to your date full.

You spoke the password and whisked through the hallway into the common room. Its yellowed walls reflected the setting Sun outside, casting a peaceful, golden glow onto everything. It was nearly empty, but you knew that wouldn’t be the case forever. Since it was a Friday night, everybody had plans, and they’d be rushing back to their dorms soon enough.

You jogged the rest of the way to your dormitory and let the door fall shut behind you. Only a few of your dorm mates were scattered around the room, doing homework, tidying up, and whatever else. They all gave you a small wave or nod as you walked by, to which you politely returned.

You had no time to talk at the moment. You had to get ready. Due to the likely possibility that you’d be late, you’d already laid out an outfit. Theo always had the mind to plan ahead and have everything ready perfectly on top. Your issues with punctuality tended to put you both behind, though. So, today, you tried to think forward.

Dropping your things, you grabbed the outfit and headed to the joint bathroom. Though it was simple, it was fancy enough to be suited for a nice dinner and casual enough for a picnic. You could never prepare for the wild dates Theo planned.

You slipped the clothing on and readied yourself in the bathroom mirror, splashing a bit of water on your face and messing up your hair. Though you didn’t look half as well as you wanted to, it would work for tonight.

Turning on your heels, you made your way out of the bathroom and back through the common room as quickly as you could. The hallways of Hogwarts were closer to empty now that classes had been out for a while, making it much easier to find your way to your destination.

The sky outside was blackening quite rapidly due to the wintry month the castle was currently submerged in. With a shudder of nerves at the thought of having to walk in the dark by yourself, you picked up your pace a bit. The air around you was chilled and swirling, urging you to wrap your jackets tighter around you.

Theo had told you to meet him by the Black Lake on the side opposite the castle. You weren’t sure if he had planned to do something there and then go out to eat or… A deep sigh left you. You were definitely overthinking this. No matter how long you’d been with Theo, you always became extremely nervous before any of your dates. Due to your house of origin, you constantly felt as though you weren’t good enough to be with Theo. It wasn’t as though any of his friends made you feel that way. It was other people in Slytherin house and even some in Hufflepuff. It was an unnerving feeling that led you to believe they were right, even though Theo picked you.

You came up to the edge of the Black Lake. The quickly approaching starlight above began to reflect in the dark waters. Halfway across the way, you could see a small lantern pressed up against one of the trees lining the banks. A wide smile spread across your face, urging you toward that dim glow. Swallowing your anxiety, you began to skirt the edge of the lake until you came upon Theo, who seemed to be admiring his work.

Before him was a dark green quilt, weighed down with two large, woven baskets, the lantern, and what looked like his school bag. You suppressed a smile and snuck up behind him, intending to surprise him.

You eased up behind him, feet as quiet as possible, and sucked in a breath—

“Rah!” Theo turned and shouted, grabbing at your sides. You shrieked at the sudden shock, having no time to react before his fingers started attacking your ribs. Panicked giggles swirled throughout the air as he tickled you relentlessly, his eyes mean and teasing.

“No, no, no! Please, stop!” you screamed through forced giggles. You kicked and wiggled to try and separate yourself from him, but his hold—as always—was much too strong for you to escape from. He used the size difference between the two of you much too often. “Theo!”

When he finally stopped tickling you, he pushed you back slightly to avoid your next move, which was all too predictable. As soon as he had separated himself from you, you began to swing your arms at him, trying to get a good hit to his arms.

“You jerk! I’ve told you not to do that!” you shouted, smacking at his clothed arms.

“You were trying to surprise me!” he defended himself, trying to push you away from him.

“I don’t care!” He grabbed a hold of you suddenly, pulling your body close to his, his strong arms wrapped snugly around you. The two of you attempted to contain giggles at the feeling of being so close to one another. The chilled air cooled your lungs and fanned across your chest. Despite the temperature around you, Theo’s body against yours was as warm as it needed to be. The weather barely had any effect on you when he held you. He was like your own personal heater.

“Oh, I missed you, darling,” he groaned lovingly into your ear, his lips tickling the flesh of your neck. The vibration of his words and the feeling of his breath on you sent a shiver through your body. You gasped slightly at the sensation, clinging tighter to his arms.

“You cold?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why’d you shiver?”

“Because you make me a little nervous,” you giggled awkwardly. His arms loosened around you almost instantly. His eyes found yours, a deep concern shoved into them. Your nervous smile dropped slightly at his expression. Was he upset?

“I make you nervous?” he asked. “What did I do? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Was it the way I held you?”

You nearly melted at how worried he seemed to be with your comfort. Never before had you met a boy so serious about how you felt. Being with Theo felt like always being taken care of, always being thought of, and never being forgotten. It never failed that—no matter what the issue was—Theo was there and ready to fix it. Whether it was his hands, his lips, his words… Whatever it need be, he had it waiting for you. You loved him endlessly for it.

“No, darling,” you laughed. “You make me nervous … in, uh, a good way.” His eyebrows quirked, and a small smirk began to spread across his lips.

“Nervous in a good way, huh? Can you explain that to me a little bit?” he asked slyly as he inched back toward you. Once he was behind you, he wrapped himself around you again, allowing his face to press back into your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin; each inhale and exhale made your heart rattle in your chest. One hand that was tightened around your stomach loosened itself and slid upwards. His fingers softly slid around your neck, never tightening, just placed there. It was so domineering, yet soft, that it had you gulping.

“L-like when you do that,” you sighed, cursing yourself for stuttering.

“When I do what?” he asked. His free hand moved gently against your stomach, gently tracing curves and dips, claiming your body so easily.

“When you touch me,” you whispered. At some point, your head had begun to lean back against his strong shoulder. If not for him holding you up, you were unsure if you’d still be standing.

The two of you had only done a few things together since you started dating. Of course, you’d kissed and petted a bit, but the two of you hadn’t gotten…there yet. The thought of it started your heart beating wildly in your chest, with no regard for your pride, as Theo’s hand was still splayed against your thorax.

“I could touch you more if you’d like,” he suggested. The fact that he’d presented the question like an option rather than a definite made the experience feel all the more pleasurable. He so obviously cared about how you felt, and that made you want him even more.

“Outside, Teddy?” you breathed nervously, your chest rising and falling heavily beneath the fall of his hand. Every breath and every touch against you had your mind racing.

“It’s dark, and no one else is out here,” he mumbled against the skin behind your ear. His lips caressed the shell of it every few moments.

“It’s cold…I don’t know if we should.” You wanted to. You really did, but you were trying to reason with him a bit. In his defense, your plan was to come out here and have a romantic anniversary…but now all you could think about was what lay beneath his knit sweater.

His free hand trailed around your waist and skirted your core through the fabric of your bottoms. A shuddering gasp left your lips ever so quietly, the sound slicing through the icy silence.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered against your ear. The tip of his nose traced along the line of your shoulder, traveling lower and lower until he pressed a sensual open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. Your heart was pounding, your breaths leaving you in desperate pants.

“Yes,” you moaned breathlessly. You could practically feel him smirk against you as he gently pulled you backward to the beautiful picnic he’d set up.

With a small shove, he’d moved the prepared baskets off of the quilt and laid you softly on the ground. The earth beneath the blanket was soft and even, and the boy above you was strong and rough. The contrast had your pupils blown wide in pleasure.

Once above you, he hovered easily, his lips running slow, personal kisses along your jawline and neck. Your head tilted back against the ground to allow him as much access to you as possible. You didn’t want anything coming between the two of you.

“Darling, please,” he breathed against your skin, “…want you now…”

His lips hovered just over your chest where your shirt split down the middle. They were parted and swollen and wanting as he brushed them along your flesh, impatiently waiting on your consent.

“Yes, please,” you whined out, clutching his curls within your fingers.

It took less than a second for him to begin to undo your bottoms, his hands gentle yet swift. Once the task was completed, he did the same with himself. He removed his belt and dropped it to the ground next to him, the leather slapping against itself with a loud crack. At the sound, you could feel heat broiling in your core…you figured that was an experiment for another day, though.

Theo undid his pants and pushed himself over the top of his briefs so he was still covered from the back. At the sight of his perfectly reddened dick, you could feel your body clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you.

Theo caressed gentle fingers up and down your core with one hand while the other collected a bit of spit from his mouth. He let it fall down between your legs and trace circles around your entrance, spreading the slick all around. At the feeling, your back arched toward him. Your lips parted in a silent scream. You’d never done this before, so you were bound to be as tight as possible, but you didn’t care. The nerves of your first time with Theo were very quickly overpowered by the raging lust pushing through your body.

He found your eyes and, with a soft nod, slowly slid his finger within you. It was a stretch—one that put your fingers to shame. You grasped at anything—the dirt, the grass, Theo’s back. He was sending you into space and keeping you grounded all at the same time. His finger slowly worked you open with genuine care until he was able to add more. He was preparing you for himself, but you could barely reach the third finger.

“Ugh, slow, baby, please,” you whined.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered. “Too much?”

You nodded pitifully, your fingers grasping at the quilt and the grass beneath. His hands slowed and eased you closer and closer to your finish before carefully removing all of his fingers from you. You groaned at the sensation and the sudden emptiness.

“Why’d you stop, Teddy?” you moaned. You stared up at him, your bottom lip jutting out slightly in a slight pout. He clicked his tongue and placed a dominating hand on your jaw. The size of his hand dwarfed your face as his thumb traced the length of your lip.

“Because I want to give you more, baby,” he cooed. “I want to feel you wrapped around me.”

You sucked in a shuddering breath as he balanced himself on his knees. He agonizingly slid himself over your entrance, the tip tracing you meanly. Your lips parted at the sensation, anticipating the stretch and fullness.

“I’m gonna move, sweetheart,” he moaned, his hands gripping your bare thighs tightly. You nodded in response to his guidance and braced yourself against him.

As he pushed in, the stretch was a strong yet delicious burn. The slick around your entrance was enough to allow him to slide in quickly, yet he took his time, allowing you to grow around him. Once he’d filled you up to the base, he groaned lightly, waiting patiently for the go-ahead to move.

Once you settled around him, you nodded eagerly. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers tightening into your flesh. Your lips parted at the motion. He ever so slowly began to move in and out of you, each stroke caressing some unknown spot deep within you.

“Fuck, Teddy,” you whispered, “I don’t know how long I can last.”

“Go as long as you can for me, baby…just want to feel you around me,” he grunted out. You glanced up through hissed lids to observe his gorgeous face and the fucked out impression painted on it.

The sweat dripped down the side of his face, trailing over his jawline and tracing his strong neck. His lips were swollen and parted delicately, with whispers of moans slipping through. His eyes were shut loosely. With every particularly deep thrust, you’d clench around him, and his eyelids would part, showcasing his sea-misted eyes rolling back as far as they’d go.

The sight of his pleasure was enough to push you over the edge into an ocean of ecstasy. You came hard around him, the last remains of your virtue spilling down between your thighs. Your back arched, your legs shook around him, your fingers gripped at nothing.

The feeling of your orgasm slammed into his chest. He cried out pitifully, a melodious whine parting the silence as the evidence of his finish coated your insides.

With a deep exhale, he eased himself out of you and collapsed beside you. You laughed breathlessly, the aftershocks of your orgasm flowing through you like a wave.

With a lazy smile on his face, he leaned forward and reached over you. He lifted the lid of one of the baskets and pulled an extra folded quilt out. You laughed aloud at his preparedness.

“Knew you were gonna get fucked, is that it?” you teased.

“Actually, I figured we’d stargaze,” he admitted, sheepishly tossing the blanket over your bodies. “I brought it in case we got cold.”

“You’re adorable, Teddy,” you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face couldn’t hide the love he was feeling for you.

He passed around the perfectly preserved food and pumpkin juice, ensuring you got a taste of each sweet and snack he’d brought along.

He then wrapped himself around you and reminded you ten times over why you’d fallen in love with him.

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #writing #fanfic #harry potter #reader insert #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #gender neutral reader #request #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott smut

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corruptedcaps · 6 months ago

Text

Furacious

Mel had never believed her best friend Gina’s notion that their bully Kayla had a magic fur coat that made her beautiful and evil.

"But she doesn't even wear it everyday, wouldn't she need to?" Mel had said before, trying to bring her friend back down to earth.

"She doesn't need to wear it everyday! Just as long as no one takes it from her, then she remains gorgeous and bitchy." Gina had replied matter of factly when asked.

Gina always had an answer for any question Mel had about the coat, always had a reason why they needed to take the coat from Kayla. It was why Mel found herself in the girls bathroom, crouched in a stall waiting for their bully to show up.

Maybe it was also because when it came to bullying targets, Kayla seemed almost drawn to always picking on Gina. It was almost as if Kayla had it out specifically for Gina. Mel wanted to try and lift her spirits even if it meant agreeing to do this crazy plan.

As they waited inside the bathroom stalls, they finally heard the door creak open. Mel and Gina exchanged a tense glance, their breaths shallow as they pressed themselves against the cold, tiled walls.

The soft click of Kayla's heels echoed through the empty bathroom, each step a reminder of their impending confrontation. Mel clenched her fists, steeling herself for what was to come.

Kayla approached the mirror, oblivious to the girls hiding just a few feet away. She adjusted the fur coat around her shoulders, its luxurious fabric shimmering under the fluorescent lights.

"Now," Gina yelled, causing Mel to slam open her door. Mel ran at Kayla who easily side stepped her without taking her eyes off her reflection.

“Oh please, don’t be so pathetic, you could never ruin my perfection.” Kayla sneered. Mel stumbled back, her cheeks burning with humiliation. Kayla finished applying a layer of lipstick and turned to face Mel.

“I don’t know what you thought you’d achieve with your little stunt loser but it’ll be a distant memory when me and my girls get through with you. They’ll be here any minute.” Kayla smirked stalking up to Mel.

However as Kayla was focused on Mel she didn’t hear the door to another stall open as Gina crept out and silently approached from behind, a determined glint in her eye. With a swift motion Gina knocked Kayla out with a heavy metal trash can.

Mel's eyes widened in shock. “What did you do?” She exclaimed, her voice trembling, thinking Kayla could be dead. But Gina didn’t respond. She’s was already crouched over Kayla, hands deftly sliding the coat off her unconscious body.

“Taking back what’s mine!” Gina replied, a wild, almost manic look on her face.

As the fur coat slipped away, something incredible happened. Kayla’s elegant features began to change. Her once perfect, shiny hair lost its luster, becoming dull and frizzy. Her flawless skin broke out in pimples, and her magnificent tits shrunk into tiny A cups. Within moments, Kayla had transformed into a nerdy, unremarkable girl, her previous beauty and allure entirely gone.

Mel gasped, unable to believe her eyes. “It’s true. The coat really does have power!”

“Of course it’s real, you moron.” Gina said suddenly, her tone cold and superior. “But it’s mine! This poser stole it from me and you’ve helped me get it back!” Gina giggled evilly as she slipped into the coat, the luxurious fur enveloping her.

Mel watched in horror as Gina began to transform. Her features sharpened and her hair grew shinier, blonder, cascading in perfect waves. Her clothes shrunk and became more fashionable under the coat, grafting onto her new slimmer form. Her posture straightened, and a cruel, confident smile spread across her face. She become even more striking and beautiful than Kayla.

As Gina’s transformation completed, Mel’s mind flooded with memories, fragments of the past she had somehow forgotten. Kayla was actually a girl named Kay, and she’s wasn’t their bully. She was Mel’s best friend, it was Gina who was the bully, but everyone knew her as….

“No,” Mel whispered, the realization hitting her like a punch to the gut. “Regina...”

Kay, now transformed back to her true self, stirred on the floor, groaning softly. Mel rushed to her side, helping her sit up. “Kay, are you okay?”

“Mmmm I feel reality shifting back to normal finally! Too long have I been stuck as the bullied loser she made me be. Now that I have my coat back, I’m unstoppable. I have my nasty friends, my hot boyfriend and my rich parents. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” Regina laughed, the sound chilling in its malevolence.

“We’ll see about that.” Mel said rising from the ground and running at Regina.

Mel tackled Regina against the wall, her adrenaline surging. They grapple fiercely, but Regina's new athletic body made her too strong and agile. With a swift movement, she slipped out of Mel’s grasp.

“Ugh, you're getting your loser germs all over my gorgeous coat.” Regina sneered. “I was going to bully you less for helping me get my property back, but I’ll just have to make you my prime victim instead.” She laughed, a cruel sound that filled Mel with rage.

Fuelled by anger, Mel pushed Regina with all her might. Regina stumbled backwards, tripping over Kay who was still on the ground. Mel instinctively reached out to grab Regina, her hand catching the lapel of the open coat causing Regina to slip out of the coat. She tumbled onto the ground, landing heavily on top of Kay.

Mel stood there, the coat now in her hands. It felt almost alive, the fur soft and warm against her skin. She suddenly heard a tempting voice whispering in her head, promising power, beauty, and the ability to stand up to anyone. The desire was almost irresistible.

“Give that back, Mel! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Regina said her eyes wide with panic.

But Mel couldn’t hear a thing except for the voice inside her head as the coat throbbed in her hands.

“Put me on Mel, I can make you ever more beautiful than they were, even more powerful, even more-” The voice began.

“Evil? No chance. I won’t do that to my friends!” Mel said in her head steadfast.

“Friends? Look at those two on the ground. They didn’t hesitate to bully you. Do you think they wouldn't hesitate to put me on and do it again? Isn't it Mel's turn be the bully? To be the bitch? To be Melanie!” The voice purred.

Mel looked down at Kay and Regina, both disheveled and vulnerable. A sudden feeling of superiority bubbled up inside her. In both realities she was always the one to endure the bullying, to stand on the sidelines. Now, with the coat’s power in her grasp, she had the chance to finally be the one in control.

“Maybe you’re right…” Mel murmured, her resolve weakening. The idea of having power over those who had tormented her was intoxicating. She could make them pay, make them feel the way she had felt for so long.

Regina’s eyes widen in fear as she saw the telltale shift in Mel’s expression. “Mel, don’t do it,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “You don’t know what it’s like. It will change you.”

But the voice in Mel’s head drowned out Regina’s words. “They deserve what comes next,” it whispered seductively. “You deserve to give it to them. Put me on.”

For a moment, Mel hesitated. But then, the promise of power became too much to resist. As Mel slipped her arms into the coat, she immediately felt a surge of energy coursing through her body. Throwing her head back, she felt wave after wave of pleasure course through her body.

The first change she felt was her hair. It lengthened, cascading down her back in glossy, perfectly straightened locks that shimmered in the light. The dull brown transformed into a dark mane of black hair, each strand glistening as if freshly conditioned.

“Oh fuck yesss! Make me a slutty bad bitch!” She moaned.

Next, her lips began to tingle. They plumped up, becoming fuller and more defined, with a natural rosy hue that made them look like they’d just been touched with the perfect shade of lipstick. A subtle, sweet taste lingered on them, as if she had just applied an expensive lip balm.

“Mmmm these lips will look so hawt wrapped around my boyfriend’s cock.” She giggled as she felt reality shift to gift her with Kayla/Regina’s boyfriend Adam.

Mel’s face started to shift as well. Her skin smoothed out, becoming flawless and radiant. Makeup appeared as if by magic, her eyelashes grew longer and thicker, perfectly curled and coated with mascara.

Her chest tingled and swelled, her modest boobs growing in size to become mouth watering tits. Next to change were her clothes. Her simple jeans became slick and black to match her hair. Her t-shirt morphed into a stylish, form-fitting top that barely contained her new boobs. The fabric was luxurious, feeling cool and smooth against her skin.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ve always wanted big juicy tits and I’m going to use these to get whatever I want.” She said in a new bratty tone.

Her nails extended and reshaped, becoming perfectly manicured with a glossy finish. They looked like they’d just been done at a high-end salon, each one flawless and uniform.

Finally, a sense of overwhelming confidence and superiority washed over her. She stood taller, her posture perfect, exuding an air of power and arrogance that she had never felt before. Mel was no longer the timid girl she once was, the coat had transformed her into a vision of beauty and strength, ready to take on anyone who stood in her way. She had become Melanie.

Melanie primped herself in the mirror, her fingers running through her newly transformed hair. She admired the flawless makeup, the perfect lips, and the luxurious outfit. With a smirk, she pulled out her phone and took a selfie, reveling in her new appearance. The rush of narcissism was intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough of her reflection.

Meanwhile, Kay leaned close to Gina and whispered, “Look, we both know she doesn’t deserve the coat. Let’s overpower her and take it. We can decide later which one of us gets it. Agreed?”

Gina nodded, a determined look in her eyes. The two girls stood up, ready to confront their old punching bag. But Melanie, now imbued with the coat’s heightened senses, heard their plotting. She turned to them, her sneer full of disdain.

“I heard you, idiot,” Melanie snapped. “You two morons can try and take MY beautiful coat from me, but you’re going to fail.”

Her voice dripped with contempt, and she squared her shoulders, ready to defend her newfound power. Kay and Gina exchanged a glance, readying themselves for the confrontation.

That's when the bathroom door swung open. A group of bully girls entered, their presence filling the room with an air of menace. They had once been Kayla’s gang, and before that, Regina’s, but the coat had warped reality so that their new queen bee was, and always had been, Melanie.

“Hey babe, you were taking a while, so we thought we’d check on you. These dorks bothering you?” One girl asked, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Kay and Gina not remembering either of them as her former leader.

Melanie’s triumphant smirk widened. She put her hands on her hips, radiating confidence. “They were trying to, but they forgot that I’m the queen bitch around here, didn’t they, girls?”

The gang of bully girls nodded eagerly, their loyalty to Melanie unquestionable. They formed a protective semi-circle around her, their expressions mirroring her disdain for Kay and Gina.

Kay and Gina exchanged nervous glances, realizing that their chances of overpowering Melanie had just plummeted. Along with beauty, Melanie now also had the social power and backing that came with the coat. The reality-bending magic had made her the undisputed leader of the pack.

“Give them a shower girls.” Melanie said with a click of her fingers and her betas jumped to action quickly grabbing Gina and Kay. As the gang of girls lifted Gina and Kay into the open stalls readying to flush, Melanie meanwhile turned on her $500 heels preparing to leave. Losers like Gina and Kay were beneath her time, especially when she had a new life to live.

However before she left she took one last fleeting look back at the sight of her new friends dunking her old ones in the toilet and smiled darkly to herself, it felt good to be so bad.

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #corrupted clothing #power transfer #fur coat #cc2024

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naughtyneganjdm · 9 months ago

Text

Playtime at the Park

Summary: After Joel Miller gives you a list of requests, he takes you to the park where he demands you to live out one of his sexual fantasies with him.

Characters: Joel Miller, & the reader (OC, second person).

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54101077

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, public sex, risky sex, unprotected p in v, etc.

Notes: Just a filthy little one shot that I wrote. I'm going through a Joel phase again. It's short. It's smutty. And thanks to anyone that reads it!

There was a list of specific requests that you were given for today. Wear something cute with a skirt. And under that skirt? Make sure you weren’t wearing your panties. It wasn’t often that you were given an order from Joel Miller, but when he gave you one, you took it. Too often Joel was quiet and somewhat shy, so when he demanded something of you it excited you.

When he picked you up today, you were enthusiastic. You didn’t know what to expect with the order that he gave you, but you were eager to see what he was up to. On the drive to wherever you were going, Joel kept stealing glances at you with his chocolate brown eyes. It was like an animal that was about to attack its prey. That’s how you knew that you chose the right outfit. Often his eyes would fall to your thighs where the skirt he asked you to wear was hiked up to reveal some of your flesh to him.

Joel wouldn’t tell you where you were going, but during the drive he couldn’t contain himself. A few minutes in, his right hand extended out to place it over your knee. It started off with small sweeps of his rough fingertips over the inside of your knee. He needed to touch you and you wanted him to. Having the specific request of wearing no panties underneath your skirt had your imagination running wild with anticipation.

Gradually his hand slid further up your thigh, squeezing and palming at the fleshy part of your thigh. It had your heartbeat hammering in your chest. Your breath was caught in your throat with your right hand squeezing at the handle of the door and your left hand was clinging to the edge of the seat. You were addicted to Joel Miller. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you knew you wanted him. And after getting him, you could never get enough of him.

Each touch had chills flooding throughout your body. Goosebumps developed at your flesh and it had your breath hitching in your throat. Sliding forward in the seat, you were desperate for his hand to continue its journey upwards between your thighs. He was teasing you though. Going just far enough up to drive you crazy with desire, but not giving you what you wanted. Tiny smirks tugged at his handsome features when you would let out a pant or a whimper.

“You’re teasing me,” you muttered, your fingers curling tighter around Joel’s wrist when you reached the next stoplight. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your throat was dry and more than anything you wanted Joel to pull over so you could take advantage of him after the way he was controlling this situation.

“Darlin,” Joel scoffed, his nose wrinkling almost in amusement, but there was a sense of cockiness there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just driving.”

“Just driving, right,” you frowned, snaking your fingers further up to hook them with his. An amused rumble of laughter fell from his throat when he squeezed tighter to him. “Are you going to keep driving me crazy with what you are doing or are you actually going to tell me where you are taking me?”

“Patience honey,” Joel hushed you, his devious smirk showing you even further that he wanted to keep you holding out.

Pouting, you fixed your posture in the seat beside him. An entertained sound fell from his throat before he pulled your hand up to his lips to place a lingering kiss over the back of your hand. It made you smile that he gave you some ounce of affection in the moment. Joel wasn’t a very tender, loving person. He tried, but it was hard for him after he had been burned by his ex-wife. So you took the little things that you could get in your relationship. It wasn’t grand gestures of love, but he did small things to show you that you meant something to him and you cherished those.

By the time Joel finally parked, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. You were at a public park. It was the middle of the day on a weekend, so it was packed. This wasn’t exactly what you expected when Joel told you that you were going out today and ordered you to wear what you were.

“What are we doing?” you panted, your heartrate still racing from what he had led you up to on the way over here.

“It’s a secret,” Joel declared, his finger placing in over his lips. Frustration flooded your veins when Joel released your hand and got out of the truck. You were hoping that the two of you might have been going somewhere alone together. You knew that his house wasn’t really an option because of Sarah and Tommy being there. Especially if the two of you wanted to get intimate in any fashion. So this just made things complicated. Watching Joel move around the truck, you could see the mischievous expression over his features and you huffed. Once he opened the door for you, you didn’t know how to respond. “My lady…”

“You’re lucky I like you,” you frowned, accepting his hand after he outstretched it to you. Firmly pulling you to him had you falling in against Joel’s chest with a gasp. It had him smiling with you bracing your hand over the center of his chest.

“I am,” he agreed with you, another wicked smirk tugging at his handsome features. Closing the door behind you, Joel grabbed a hold of your hand and led you toward the center of the park. More than anything you wanted an explanation, but by the way Joel was acting, you knew that you weren’t going to get one.

“I’m confused,” you whispered while the two of you walked through the crowd of people. Joel got your blood pressure going. You were aching between your thighs and if anything, Joel made sure that you were incredibly horny on the way over here.

Instead of answering you, Joel just continued on the path that he was walking. Where you came to a stop surprised you. Joel led you to a bench that wasn’t on the main path, but you could still hear and see everyone in the distance. Lowering down onto the bench, Joel looked up at you with his big brown eyes and you felt a breath catch in your throat. Where he was seated was right off a walking path that still had some foot traffic, but this wasn’t what you had in mind.

“What is this?” you wondered, your body tense from being brought to a populated park. A snicker fell from Joel’s throat when you looked over your shoulder to see two older woman walking the path that the bench was on. Patting the bench beside him, Joel’s right eyebrow arched with him expecting you to take a seat. Obeying, you moved in beside him and let out a tense breath. Leaning in, you made sure that you were whispering with Joel’s hand possessively placing over your knee. “I thought you were going to tap into your kinky side, take me into the trees and have your way with me there. It would be your way of getting public sex in.”

“In the trees?” Joel repeated, looking back over his shoulder where in the distance was a wooded area. “No ma’am. I don’t want to do that.”

“Then you just wanted me to feel a nice breeze while you took us to a relaxing trip sitting at the park?” you joked, getting comfortable beside Joel on the bench. Arrogantly, his head bobbed about and he licked his lips. Lifting his gaze, he observed the area around you.

“No, we’re going to fuck,” Joel responded with a tip of his head, a seductive smirk tugging at his handsome features. “We’re just not gonna do it in the trees. I reckon we’re gonna do it right here.”

“Right here?” you choked with Joel nodding his head. Stealing another look around, there was no way that was possible. Not with all the people around. You could still see the big crowd from where you were sitting. “Are you looking to get caught?”

“We won’t get caught if you’re quiet,” Joel suggested, throwing his free hand up and about eliciting a laugh from you. You were uneasy with the idea and he could tell that. “You are always telling me that you would do anything for me.”

“Sure, I would,” you agreed with him, an amused exhale falling from your parted lips. At first you thought this was a joke, but by the look in Joel’s eyes you could tell that it wasn’t. “But I didn’t think getting put in jail for public sex was a way to prove that to you.”

“You’re wearing a skirt, I’m certain I got you wet on the way over here,” Joel slurred, sliding in closer to you with his fingertips tracing in over your shoulder. Leaning in, his lips caressed over your jawline drawing your eyes to flutter to a close. Goddamn Joel Miller. He knew how to turn you on and he did it well. Faint bites at the side of your neck had you purring out before his wet kisses continued over your flesh. “You crawl in my lap. It will just look like two people cuddling together. We’ll get my cock out through the zipper because like you…I’m not wearing anything under my jeans.”

Dropping your eyes down, your stare centered in over Joel’s pants seeing the slight bulge that was there. Focusing was hard with the way that his lips were caressing over your jawline. Purring out, you bit down on your bottom lip and felt a chill flooding your veins.

Sweeping his fingers through your hair, Joel growled out against your earlobe when he slid in closer to you, “You make slow, steady movements. Don’t draw attention and if someone gets near, stop moving. We’ll just play up the cuddling couple enjoying the nice weather in the park scenario.”

“You’re a naughty freak, you know that?” you breathed out, pulling your head back to look him over. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Are you afraid of being a little adventurous? I’ve always wanted to do something in public. This will test what we are capable of as a couple,” Joel reasoned with you, his eyebrows bouncing up when you felt his fingertips start to caress over your thigh again. “I mean, we can go to my place and watch a movie if you want.”

“If I get caught Joel Miller, I’m going to kick your ass,” you promised with a shake of your head and a laugh. Curling your fingers around the side of his neck, you brought his lips to yours to steal a hungry kiss. With a quick brush of his tongue against yours, it had you purring out. Pulling away just enough to press your forehead to his, you sighed loudly. Stealing another quick look at the area surrounding you, you considered your options. Outstretching your hand, you palmed in over the center of Joel’s pants causing a quiet moan to fall from his lips. “You’re lucky you turned me on as much as you did before we got here in the truck.”

“That was the plan,” Joel winked, licking his lips when he readjusted his positioning on the bench. Patting his lap had your throat going dry. Standing up from the bench, Joel lifted his hand up in the air and made a circling motion so that way you turned away from him. Listening to his directions, you felt his arm hooking loosely around your waist to guide you to lower your hips down in over his lap. It took a minute to get comfortable over him, but his grasp was strong and it was easy for him to get you where he wanted you with your back facing his chest. Hooking his arms around your waist, he squeezed you closely in his arms and chuckled against your jawline. “See, we’re just two people cuddling.”

“Right now we are,” you whimpered when you felt the solidness of his form pressing against your bottom through the material of your skirt that you were wearing. It made you lick your lips and close your eyes shut tightly. “This is crazy.”

“We all need to go a little crazy sometimes,” Joel retorted, adjusting your skirt the way he needed it. Peppering hot, sensual kisses against the side of your neck, Joel made sure that you were comfortable before hissing out. “Lift your hips up for a minute.”

Doing as you were told, you braced your hands on his thighs hoping not to draw attention to yourself. Wiggling beneath you, Joel snaked his hand underneath you with the sound of his zipper being pulled down following. Swallowing down hard, you heard Joel grunting behind you with his hips arching up. His right hand pushed at your skirt in the back. Squeezing tightly to Joel’s thighs, you gasped when you felt him leading the tip of his rigid cock to your entrance. Whimpering, you suddenly started to realize how stupid of an idea this actually was. As Joel carefully led you down over his girthy length, you couldn’t help but release a small cry at the way his cock stretched you. Hiding this was going to be hard considering Joel was bigger than normal both in length and girth.

“Good girl,” Joel praised you, his right hand reaching around you to grab a firm hold of your jaw to keep you in place. His left hand helped until you lowered completely over him. Filling you to the brim, Joel moaned nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck. Doing your best to hold in the inexplicable cry you wanted to release, you squeezed firmly at Joel’s thigh to brace yourself. “Take a minute…”

“Fuck Joel,” you scoffed under your breath with Joel adjusting your skirt so he could keep it hidden what was happening between the two of you. “You know that I can’t stay quiet. You’re fucking big…”

“I know, but you can do this,” he hushed you, nipping at your flesh before trying to get into a position that looked inconspicuous. “Now start rolling your hips in small motions. You’re in control of all of this. If we get caught, it’s your fault.”

Cussing under your breath, you tried to brace yourself. An incredible ache filled your body. Having Joel stagnant inside of you was a full stretching feeling that your body was still getting used to. Making sure that you were safe to start moving, you kept your hands braced on his thighs and rolled your hips slightly forward. It only drew a small amount of Joel’s cock out of you, but you had to coach yourself not to cry out. This was going to be incredibly hard. Drawing your hips back, you repeated the motion several times with Joel’s grasp on your hips getting tighter.

“You owe me after this,” you licked your lips realizing just how incredible this actually felt. It was exhilarating to be doing something so risky like this. There was a certain thrill to the idea that you could be caught at any time. In this position, you were full of Joel. It wasn’t like you could make dramatic up and down movements. No, it was more so small and unpronounced. It was lots of rocking and rolling your hips against him trying not to bring attention to what was happening.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel growled against the side of your neck, outstretching enough to place wet kisses over your flesh. “Anything you want…it’s yours.”

Stroking over your arm, Joel’s rough fingertips brought chills throughout your body before his fingers slid down over your hand to link his with yours.

“You’re doing so good darlin,” Joel praised you, a faint moan falling from his lips with his left hand squeezing at your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Badly you wanted to close your eyes and take in the feeling of all of this, but you couldn’t. Making noise and looking away were not an option. You were glad Joel didn’t take you to the busiest part of the park, but there were people close in the vicinity. You weren’t completely out of dodge.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a group of people walking the path that your bench was on. It made you tense up, your movements coming to a stop with Joel groaning out. Wincing, Joel’s finger squeezed firmly to yours.

“Someone is coming,” you whimpered, attempting to move, but the grasp on your hips was too strong with Joel keeping you in place.

“They aren’t going to know. Your skirt is hiding it,” Joel hushed you, nuzzling his nose in against the back of your neck. “You get off my lap and my dick is going to be out. They are going to know immediately what we’re doing.”

“Damnit Joel,” you bit back a cry with his solid length stagnant inside of you. Normally you had a hard time keeping quiet with how big Joel was, but today was really testing your limits with how he was filling you to the brim.

Adjusting his positioning, Joel squeezed his arm around your waist to make it look like he was hugging you to him as the group approached. Thankfully the larger part made their way around the walkway without even paying attention to you both. You were terrified that someone would realize what the two of you were doing, so you were frozen in fear. Your body was trembling, but with Joel holding onto you, it was obvious he was trying to hide that.

“Beautiful day we’re having,” Joel slurred when someone gave the two of you a glance. You squeezed harder at his fingers hating that he drew further attention to the two of you. You hoped to God that your skirt was genuinely hiding what was happening underneath, otherwise the two of you were fucked. In more than one way. Joel raised his hand to wave goodbye and as soon as the group was gone, you reached for his hand to slam it back down to his thigh.

“You’re an asshole,” you scoffed, your whole body tensing at the lack of movement that it so desperately wanted.

“You love it,” Joel growled, watching the group of people continue on their walk. His grasp on your hip made sure that it kept you frozen over him. Once they were far enough away and Joel knew that the strangers weren’t paying any attention to the two of you, he smacked at your hip to get you to start moving again. “Alright honey, nice and slow.”

Scoffing out, you knew that part of you wanted to chew him out, but so much more of you wanted that movement he was directing you to do. You were throbbing, your thighs shaking from the lack of stimulation it was getting. With a small movement forward, you felt Joel’s fingers digging firmly into your flesh and he hummed quietly.

“Just like that,” he coached you, his tongue sweeping out over his bottom lip in an unhurried drag watching your hips moving over him in slow, cautious movements. It was getting harder focusing on the people that were surrounding you enjoying their days with the fire that was building in the pit of your abdomen. Rolling your hips over Joel’s cock had the friction from the base of his cock rubbing up against your clitoris and even though the slow movements were torturous, you were addicted to the sensations it was drawing out from within you. “Good girl.”

Surveying the area, Joel made sure that everyone was focused on their own business. Starting to very faintly bounce his hips up toward your backward movements added to the friction that was creating a phenomenal feeling inside of you. Biting firmly into your bottom lip, you were doing everything you could to hold back the inexplicable moans that your throat wanted to release.

In the distance there was a field full of people and when they started moving about, you tensed up with Joel’s groan involuntarily erupting from his throat with your warmth enveloping his body tighter, “You’re fine.”

“They might see,” you panted, digging your fingers into Joel’s thigh when he nuzzled his nose in against the side of your neck again.

“They aren’t watching,” he assured you, his hand urging your movements over him just a little bit faster. “Fuck, you’re so wet. It feels so fucking good inside of your hot, tight pussy.”

“You like the way that feels?” you purred stealing a look back over your shoulder at him watching him nod, his lips parting like he wanted to make a sound but he knew that he couldn’t. “Your big cock feels like it was made just for me.”

“Fuck,” Joel winced, halting your movements when he saw another group of people walking down the path that you two were on. This time you both were trying to keep yourselves together with his hand shakily squeezing tighter around yours in hopes to brace himself. Inside of you, Joel’s cock was throbbing and he undoubtedly ached as much as you did. It was getting harder to hide the yearning the two of you had for each other, but fuck you were trying. Joel’s breathing was uneven in your ear when he tried to emulate the two of you cuddling again. Thankfully this group was less interested in the world around them with the conversation they had going on. This time you didn’t wait long for them to pass before you started picking up the pace from what you had been doing earlier. There was a fire growing in the pit of your belly and you were desperate to get some kind of release. The quicker, the better. “Slow down.”

“Shut up,” you smacked at Joel’s hand, paying attention to the people around you. When it looked like you may draw attention, you slowed down your tempo but when it seemed like you could get away with it you started thrusting yourself back against him harder. Underneath you Joel’s thighs were tremoring, his body rocking instinctively against yours. Panting, you knew that this was the craziest thing you had done with Joel to date and it surprised you just how much it actually turned you on. Dropping your head back against Joel’s shoulder had him grunting out, but his mouth covered the side of your neck peppering wet kisses over your flesh. “Joel…”

“Keep going,” Joel’s eyes lifted slightly to ensure that you would be safe, but at this point you didn’t care if you got caught.

Your body was trembling, it wanted the orgasm that you had been building up for yourself. Wincing, you felt Joel biting at your flesh to silence himself with your body flexed around his. Your eyes slammed shut, your throat tensing up and you clung to Joel’s thighs when a euphoric rush flooded throughout your limbs. Even though you hit your orgasm, Joel wasn’t about to let you stop with being so close to coming himself. Dropping his hand down to your waist, he forced you to keep up with the same tempo that you were at. With a hiss, Joel lifted his left hand to wrap his fingers around your mouth to stop you from making a noise when his cock started to twitch inside of you. With the warmth of his release filling you, it was hard not to react.

Sliding his fingers down, Joel grasped onto your jaw urging you to him so he could claim your lips in a fiery, passionate sweep to help keep himself from making any noise. Eagerly kissing him back, a final grunt vibrated against your bottom lip when your movements stopped all together. Breathing heavily, Joel chuckled against your lips before nipping at your bottom lip.

“I love you,” you whispered, your eyes locking with his drawing a smile from his handsome features.

“You better,” Joel winked, giving your hip a small smack to get you to lift up. This was where things were going to get complicated. Helping you lift your hips up unhurriedly, Joel reached between the two of you to help pull his body from yours. A whine escaped your throat at the sensation of him leaving you. Working to get his softening cock back into his pants, Joel gave you one final kiss when he finished. Helping you move back onto the bench beside him made you gasp when you felt his release dripping down your inner thigh.

“Did you bring something to clean up with?” you spoke quietly with Joel’s nose wrinkling, his head tipping to the side when you reached to wipe at the line of cum that was dripping down your body.

“Nope,” Joel shook his head, extending his hand out to sweep his thumb in over the curve of your jawline.

“So what? You expect me to sit here full of your cum and when you’re ready you want me to walk back to the truck with your cum on my legs?” you questioned getting a small snicker in return. Tipping his head from side to side, Joel considered his answer and you rolled your eyes. “Dick.”

“I think it’s good for you to have something that marks you as mine,” Joel asserted, sucking at his bottom lip watching you lift your fingers to deposit them between your lips. Sucking at the taste of Joel’s release made him exhale loudly. “Fuck me…”

“Next time it’s my turn to come up with something,” you reminded him, sliding in closer to Joel. It had his pupils dilating with lust with you dragging your thumb over his bottom lip. “And you better be prepared because I’m going to make it good.”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel spoke with a wicked smirk, his eyes lifting to stare out at those that were in the park once more. When his gaze returned to you, he gave you another wink and caressed his hand in over your fleshy thigh. “I’m looking forward to see what you come up with.”

#Joel Miller #The Last of Us #Joel Miller Fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller Smut #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #tlou fanfiction

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lokorum · 2 months ago

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Your art so surreal, did you take inspiration from African masks it’s amazing. You have probably gotten this question before but what’s your process and how do plan these beautiful pieces out. I am a beginner artist and would like some advice on how start doing digital painting.

thank you for bringing me back from the dead with your kindness, (i was so sad today ughhhh i think watching vampire diaries starting to affect me hjkhjk), i really, really deeply thankful that you spend your time to write something so sweet (also sorry it took me literally ages to reply phphp THE USUAL)

yeah, in buryatia shamanism like the big thing, so when i went to search what's out there in the masks department - google's mess of the results for once was helpful and showed this massive collection of beautiful african masks. the one that was inspo for tiisha lived in my head rent free for weeks before the character was even born phphph now i cant even imagine her without it

(here is little tiisha for you before i'll proceed to be not helpfull phphphph)

oof advices are not my strong side , like..........my process mostly is just sleep through the whole thing i guess..........................i very rarely do sketches, i hate study anatomy and perspective, drawing cubes makes me physically sick etc etc my approach to drawing were "fuck around and find out", always about chill and fun and barely ever about learning. imho thats why im so shitty at drawing simple things but not bad at coloring. so yeah, my biggest advice always and forever will be - be gentle to yourself, please

digital or traditional or whatever else is out there, dont forget you make it for yourself and for yourself only okay? it supposed to be fun, not sad tiring and competitive

advices for digital specifically tho - very objective, apply with caution

learn all the keyboard shortcuts, ideally to press them without thinking

explore more instruments than just brush. it will be tedious and sometimes feel like a chore so mb pick one victim once a month and browse youtube for a stuff like SECRET ULTIMATE TIPS ABOUT MAGIC WAND TOOL THAT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE (they indeed will save your life)

check if your drawing program has artboards - turning it on will give you more freedom over canvas positioning and your refs will always be there and not in the separate window

idk about others but using auto tone, auto contrast and auto color often gives me well needed perspective on what im doing

in 99% cases be sure that you can reanimate even the most messiest artpiece you ever did. working in digital gives you the chance to mess with shapes, colors and perspective at any time so if you dont want to gave up on something - you absolutely didnt have to

from time to time while you are still learning - go out there in the wilds and search for the new brushes. tweak with them if you want. i have like ~500 and i use 6 max, but those 6 i found by at some point trying to draw with all of the 500

MADE. BACK UPS. and i mean not like save layers just in case before merging them (tho that's too will help) no, i mean click SAVE AS once an hour and create A NEW FILE. PLEASE. i lost so much stuff to sudden power outage. its never pretty and you loosing will to work for days

watch at least one tutorial about the whole rgb srgb and cmyk thing - i did, understood not a thing, but at least im not playing dora the explorer with my colors after the export now

uh idk think thats it? tried to think about those that id hope i knew when i started so hopefully something will help

have fun with your drawings!!

#mmm talking

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whateverisbeautiful · 4 months ago

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♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#1: The Hand (1.01)

The level of excitement, anxiety, joy, and anticipation I felt just before pressing play on the TOWL premiere was so high. My Richonne was finally coming back. 🥹 And man did they just snatch my heart for an entire hour with their return. I already knew seeing them again would be euphoric, but it was even more than I could have guessed. And the TOWL premiere dives right in with a very emotional, wild, and impactful first few minutes...

When deciding on a deadline for having these RIR: Towl Edition posts ready, I figured today, July 22, would be a great kickoff day since it's the anniversary of when The Ones Who Live was first announced at SDCC. 👌🏽😊

I remember where I was the day I first saw the TOWL announcement in 2022. I was in the middle of moving to a new place and saw an article pop up on my phone with a picture of Andy and Danai hand in hand at Comic-Con. I was just happy to see them.

And then I looked down at the article’s headline and saw they were there to announce that there would be a Rick and Michonne miniseries. 🤩 I was already overjoyed by that, but then, my joy just skyrocketed even more when I saw that they were coming back specifically for a miniseries focused on Rick and Michonne’s “epic love story” with Andy, Danai, and Scott as co-creators and executive producers. 😍

I knew we were about to have an absolute feast with this show our captains cooked up - and feast we most certainly did. This 6 episode miniseries is a six-course meal. 🍽

And I think TOWL is excellent on its own and has a lot of widespread appeal but when I’ve seen people say The Ones Who Live felt like it was particularly for the Richonne fans, there’s also a very clear explanation for that: the show was made by three Richonne fans. Scott, Andy, and Danai…they’re us. 😋

And I am so grateful to them for the beautiful gift that is The Ones Who Live. 😌

So this first post is a bit longer because I gotta come out the gate extra and even offer up some thoughts on the TWD clips that they included just before the premiere starts. I really liked how it sets up TOWL and highlights the power of Richonne’s relationship.

They start by showing the iconic pilot shot of Rick on his horse riding along the barren side of a freeway as we hear his voice say, “We tell ourselves we are the walking dead.”

And then they include the iconic shot of Michonne’s TWD entrance from season 2.

They then show a clip from season 6, just a few episodes before Richonne would be canon. In the clip, Michonne is on the patio with Rick (and his elevator eyes) as she helps him see, “We’re in here together.”

I love this because in reminding Rick that they’re alive and breathing right here and now and have the room to make ASZ home it shows how Michonne was the one who helped change Rick’s motto from “We’re the walking dead” to “We’re the ones who live.” It’s one of the many ways she changed his life. 😌

They show some Say Yes moments, and you know I love that Richonne episode down. Seeing them use clips from the beloved 7.12, I remember just marveling over how years ago we were so excited just to get a single episode focused on Richonne and now we were gearing up to watch a whole miniseries dedicated to them. 🥰 Never getting over that blessing.

Rick says, “We’re gonna lose people, maybe even each other” as the clip ushers in its first gut punch of the hour by showing Rick and Michonne at their son Carl’s side after he reveals he’s been bit. 🥺

They also show Rick telling Michonne “You can lose me” in the Say Yes van and her saying “No.” We’ll talk about it more in a later post, but just as many of us suspected - Richonne cannot in fact lose each other and live on the same. While losing each other is and was physically possible, in every other way losing each other made them lose the most crucial parts of themselves.

Then they show Rick in his final TWD ep, preparing to blow up the bridge as his voiceover tells Michonne “If it’s me who doesn’t make it, you’re gonna have to lead the others forward because you’re the one who can.”

We see Michonne scream his name as Rick blows up the bridge and then they show our sweet older Judith as Rick says “Making a future for Judith, it’ll be worth it.” And I always love that 9.05 shot of Judith because of how it incorporates Rick, Carl, and Michonne with the holster, hat, and sword on her back. She along with RJ is an embodiment of their legacy and the future Richonne believed in.

Then they show Michonne slaying a walker as she says “We can make it. I’m not giving up.” And it just all really hammers home the resilience of Richonne and their love and partnership. They’ve been through so much, built so much, and lost so much, but they still stand because of each other and the family they created.

After they give us some CRM insight with clips of Jadis (😒), they show scenes of Michonne and Judith’s last conversation where they both decide Michonne will go and look for The Brave Man. I’m glad they included that because some viewers really tend to forget that Judith urged her mom to go look for her dad and Michonne left not as an act of abandonment, but as the ultimate act of love for her family.

The TWD clips ends with Michonne saying “Okay baby girl I’m gonna try” and Judith saying “Go get him.” I love that even with everyone else thinking they were crazy, Michonne and Judith never stopped believing Rick was out there. (And RJ was believing too. 🥹 But I'm getting way ahead of myself lol)

And then --- the show we’ve all been waiting for begins and the TOWL premiere has a devastatingly poignant teaser. 🥺

I like how The Ones Who Live's opener connects to the last of the TWD clips because Michonne tells her baby girl she’s gonna try and then we hear Rick’s voice start the show by saying, “I tried. Please know I tried.”

It moves me how much Rick and Michonne have been trying for each other while apart. And it’s crushing to hear Rick say 'tried' in the past tense as he now debates no longer trying anymore since he's learned he can’t be with his family again or else risk putting them in harm's way.

After years of waiting to finally see what Rick has been up to all this time, they immediately let us know it has been an excruciatingly painful existence for him without his family. 😢

gif cred: @perryabbott

I like how the shot opens with Rick facing away from the camera as he stares out the window at a cold industrial view. Rick facing away from us almost gives this sense that we know him but we also don’t fully know him anymore. He’s been through a lot we haven’t seen.

The vintage TV delivers news of a massive attack in the background and similar to the destruction on the television, Rick also feels destroyed by the CRM and at his lowest here.

gif cred: @nerd4music

Then I love how before we even see Rick's face, we see him holding one of his phone sketches of Michonne. This show did a great job of immediately setting up the way Richonne’s love would be at the center of every scene in this story.

This shot of Michonne on the phone let you know instantly that the love between Richonne is still so alive and important to Rick and the miniseries. It’s also painful because it’s like Rick is finally accepting that those little drawings really could be the last he ever gets to “see” her after fighting so hard to believe he would see her again for real one day.

And it’s very symbolic to have him look at Michonne on the phone and then see his own reflection in it. They’re one. It’s also significant that the first we see of Rick’s face is through a reflection. Again he’s him, but he’s not fully him rn. Just a reflection. And the part of him he misses most is his other half - Michonne.

gif cred: @richonne4life

One of the tragic aspects of these two soulmates being separated for so long is that Rick and Michonne were not the type of couple who needed absence to make the heart grow fonder. Like they didn’t need to lose each other to realize how special their love was. When they were together they were fully aware of the gift their relationship was in their lives and they treasured their love deeply and out loud.

So being apart has only heightened what Rick and Michonne already knew full well which is that they are the love of each other's lives. They’re everything to each other. They knew it back then. And they know it still now, even after being away from each other longer than they’ve been together.

It’s such a big deal for Rick to look at this phone in this moment as he contemplates ending it. I noticed that anytime Rick thinks he’s about to die, he thinks of Michonne. It's as though he’s eager for his last moment of life and his last thought to be of her so that he can end on some semblance of a positive note.

When he’s on the bridge in TWD 9.05, Michonne is his last hallucination. When he later chops off his hand and fades out of consciousness he dreams of her. And here when he contemplates dying by his own hand, he looks at this image of her just before. It makes me think of that TikTok that went viral about a man saying his last breath will be his wife’s name. That is definitely Rick’s mindset and I love that Richonne’s love runs that deep.

Rick looks out with tears in his eyes - just sadness personified - and then he stares at the shard of glass in his hand, contemplative, before putting the glass to his neck. The acting Andy does in this moment is incredibly powerful and painful. I know award shows disappointingly tend to completely sleep on the performances from the TWD cast but truly to me he secured every award nomination just within his first few seconds of being on screen.

There’s something so viscerally vulnerable about this moment as Rick stares at the glass really wondering if after everything he’s been through and overcome, it’s really come to this - meeting his demise by his own hand with a little piece of glass.

Plus with how resilient Rick is, it’s like we see this massive internal fight to go against everything in him that’s a survivor and actively choose to stop surviving once and for all.

My heart just instantly broke from this teaser because while yes we know Rick won’t go through with it, to know that he was even in the headspace of this makes me hurt for him deeply. To think he was ready to potentially just go out, alone, depressed, never seeing his family again and them never knowing he was out there, feeling like a failure. It’s extremely dark.

gif cred: @vidco

Throughout his time on TWD, Rick’s journey has been as much a mental battle as it has been an external battle and as we saw in the TWD pilot, Rick is extremely perseverant but without his family, he is not opposed to just ending it.

And now, he's tried so hard for so many years to get back to Michonne and Judith, he stayed alive off the memory of family and the hope of being with family again - But once he realized it was no longer an option unless he risked putting the ones he loves in immense danger, that was it for him. In this moment he no longer sees the point in living if he has to live without his wife and daughter. 🥺

I found it powerfully poignant to have a show called The Ones Who Live begin by having Rick about to take his life. It shows that for Rick, there’s an asterisk on that motto because he feels he’s only 'the one who lives' if he gets to live with Michonne. It’s either ‘the ones who live together’ or nothing at all for Rick.

So he nearly goes through with this attempt. Even draws some blood on his neck...but then he stops. Thank goodness. 🙏🏽 He sucks his teeth and sighs as he stares at the shard of glass looking defeated but also resolved that he can’t go through with it. Not like this.

Through this teaser, we instantly get his state of mind. He can’t end it all but he’s been in so much pain that it feels like the only way through is to die. It’s utterly tragic. 🥺

And I truly feel like part of why Rick couldn’t go through with it is because he and Michonne genuinely are one. So his life is not just his to take.

So long as Michonne is still out there and her heart is still beating then his heart still has to beat too, even if he has to die in other ways to somehow go on without her. We’ll also learn more about why he doesn’t go through with it in his heartbreakingly romantic last letter to Michonne, but we’ll get there. 👌🏽

So then we see the back of Rick again as he ends the night accepting his dreary fate to live but truly as the walking dead from now on. And I really like how the show explores the dark and damaging side of having to tell yourself you’re the walking dead. As well as the dark side of being 'the one who lives' even when everything in you wants to quit living because now you have to live without those you love.

When Rick gave the speech about his grandpa and them being the Walking Dead in TWD 5.10, Daryl responded saying, “We ain’t them.” Rick agreed with that because so long as you have family you aren’t the Walking Dead.

But that’s the thing - Rick hasn’t had his family for years and so he really did have to become the Walking Dead. But as he’ll say at the end of the series (jumping way ahead again, I know lol) he thought he was alone, but he wasn’t. His kids and wife especially were still believing in him and still loving him out there.

I like to think that just like Michonne could feel Rick out there with all the love he was emitting from afar toward her, Rick too could feel all the love she was emitting to him and it kept him here a bit longer. And thank goodness for that because my beloved Rick Grimes' story deserves a bright positive ending, not one this dark and depressing, after everything he's been through.

As the teaser ends and Rick stares into the CRM void, I like the score. The music almost feels like a menacing weighed-down heartbeat which is fitting.

And then there's the beautiful title sequence, which I adore the music and every Richonne image during the theme song. I like how it starts with Rick and Michonne in each other's arms from season 8, letting you know that while the teaser was very dark, there is light coming and that light is called Richonne.

(Also, I really wanted Rick to see Michonne in her corset armor during the show but since he didn’t, I’m glad there’s at least a gorgeous image of the two of them together during the theme song that includes her in the armor.)

I also liked the way the first ep just shows Rick under the title since it’s a Rick-centric episode and then the second episode has just Michonne under the title for the Michonne-centric episode. All and all, this whole opener was a very impactful way to kick off the show and set the tone for what Rick has been through and become in the years he's been away.

All the chatter from certain parts of the audience who thought Rick would move on and even have a new family in the Civic Republic was immediately dispelled because those speculations were always a ridiculous misunderstanding of the character. He found his everything in Michonne so of course he’s still as in love with her now as he was the day we last saw them together in season 9. Just like Michonne still stayed in love with him.

I love that they both refused to move on from each other and operated as in love as ever. And because they held onto that love, even when it felt like all was lost, that love was able to return to them. 👌🏽

So next, we get into some action as we’re taken to 5 years after the bridge. We see Rick and his iconic walk as he stands in the forest with other consignees. And it was such a joy to see him back on screen and know we were finally going to get the continuation of his story. 🙌🏽

gif cred: @vidco

Rick holds a CRM hatchet, which also feels symbolic because it’s similar to one of his signature TWD weapons, but it’s marked by the CRM showing they’ve in many ways attempted to claim him.

Rick is also the only consignee with a leash, clearly illustrating that he’s a lil different than the rest. He’s the one who doesn’t want to be here and will try to escape if given the chance and the CRM knows this about him. Along with attempting to claim him, this leash makes it feel like the CRM is also attempting to tame him like he's a defiant animal.

gif cred: @nerd4music

As Rick looks around and takes a breath you can tell he’s fully made up his mind about what he’s about to do with his most extreme escape attempt yet.

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick runs to take out walkers and again seeing him back in action is such a sight for sore eyes. He’s still got it. 👌🏽 However, because he looks all healthy and strong I think some can miss that Rick is still very much in mental disarray from battling the psychological torment of being taken and trapped all these years. Like he might look normal and fine (and I do mean that in all the ways 😇) but he's not mentally healthy right now.

(Side note: I really love the look of this whole night scene with the deep blues and fiery reds. The budget was doing its thing in TOWL. 👏🏽🔥)

gif cred: @nerd4music

So Rick runs far enough that the leash pulls him to the ground. A soldier yells at him and he says “Sorry. Trying to find my axe.” Look at our cute little liar. 😋

And then the show gets right into the wildness by having Rick put a belt around his arm and proceed to chop off his own hand. It’s insane😳.

It's also very reminiscent of when Negan nearly made Rick chop off Carl’s arm in the season 7 premiere. Chopping his own hand off in these woods was more doable for Rick than had he had to chop off Carl’s arm because it’s his family he cares about far more than himself.

As Rick prepares to do the chop he repeats “This is how” as in this is how he gets home. It hurts my heart that he feels this is the only way.🥺

But it's really moving to see that he’s willing to do something this intense to get back to his love. Also, this is 5 years after the bridge, so this means that even a half a decade later Rick was still as determined as ever to break free and get back to Michonne.

The people I watch with and I had a whole discussion on whether chopping the hand the way he did was daftly executed by the show considering it’s such an extreme thing to do in this situation where Rick was never going to successfully get away bleeding out like that with CRM soldiers so close by.

But my argument was that the 'ill-thought-out' element of this escape plan is part of the point.

For 5 years atp, Rick has been isolated from all love and warmth and is deteriorating mentally day by day. In this extremely damaged state, he’s not thinking straight, and cutting off his hand is a last-ditch effort that shows he will try absolutely anything, sound or unsound, to get back to Michonne and Judith.

Yes, he possibly could have just cut off the thumb or hacked at the leash but the extreme approach Rick took also conveys that he’s not all there right now and he’s as desperate as he’s ever been to finally break free and go home. It also informs us that his more sane escape attempts haven't worked and so now Rick Grimes is willing to try the insane stuff to get back to his family.

Think about the mindset he has to be in to go against natural human instinct and chop off his own hand. It’s crazy, but it immediately lets us know that even the most impractical solutions are now what it’s come to for him.

gif cred: @nat111love

So basically, if it seems super reckless for him to do it this way, that’s the intention imo. He’s so worn down and off mentally from his debilitating circumstances that he’ll do anything whether it’s the wise thing or not, he doesn’t care anymore. Anything to get back to her.

The traditional saying is 'asking for her hand in marriage,' but here we see Rick, the ultimate lover boy, be like 'What if I literally give my hand for my marriage.' If there’s one thing TOWL made perfectly clear it’s that Rick and Michonne have crazy love. 💯

And while yes his escape plan could have been more thought through, my baby Rick did show some smart thinking by putting the ax in the fire to make the chop easier so you gotta give him that. 😌👌🏽

After he cuts off his hand this horror music plays as Rick proceeds to make a run for it. He has to lean behind a tree dazed as he bleeds profusely.

It’s crazy because the last time we saw Rick in a full episode of TWD he was bleeding out and now here he is intensely injured again and going through the wringer. I was so eager for whenever this man would finally get some much-deserved rest.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Rick then has the strength to take out a walker and cauterize the wound by plunging his arm into the fire inside it. This whole thing was an effective way to show early that one; Rick is built different and two; this man will endure literally anything to get home. And home is very much not a place but his wife and daughter.

So then he tries to make a run for it as CRM soldiers near closer and I honestly think with this being his fourth escape attempt this was really a “go home or die trying" attempt. Like I think Rick knew that dying tonight was a very real possibility.

The soldiers knock Rick down and he lays on the ground defeated and drained as he stares at the burning corpse of a walker that’s certainly meant to reflect how he feels as well. Almost like the burning desire to go home has officially consumed him and taken him out.

Feeling like a corpse himself, Rick fades out of consciousness as soldiers approach. And then we get to enter Rick’s lovely mind and see where he goes when at his wit's end.

And y’all, these first two TOWL scenes to analyze were pretty hefty, dark, and depressing, so it’s time we get to something lighter and happier to dive into. And what’s better and brighter than Rick’s beautiful dream world with his beautiful dream girl? 😌👌🏽🌟

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.01 #RIR (1)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

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cario55555 · 5 months ago

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Gonna be taking a bit of a break from art and such and so, specifically cotl stuff mainly because i got abunch of wips in the backlog and others stuff to doodle but also i like this little freakshow im making too so have abunch of fun facts about the funny lamb universe i got goin on for now under the cut

⁍ The Lamb would canonically win in a fight against 4 Leshy's or 2 Heket's, but not 3 Shamura's or 2 Kallamar's. ⁍ The Goat literally just walked into the Cult and acted like he already knew everyone. This somehow worked for 3 years. ⁍ I have no idea if Narilamb is canon in this or not, but if it was then it would not end well for anyone ⁍ Plimbo is the best character, this is a fact and you cannot dispute it. I tried designing him like 8? times and I just couldn't get it in a satisfying way. this is because he is without flaw. ⁍ The Lamb was fully aware of the prophecy before the beheading. They were counting on it. There is blood on their hands. ⁍ Sozo is very dead. Whatever's walking around the Cult, that's not Dr. Sozonius. ⁍ Look at this thing I can do ☺ isn't that wild ⁍ It takes place in a permadeath save. This means that the Lamb's delusions of power definitely weren't helped by the fact that they BARELY even knew Narinder, and the fact they killed 5 gods without sleeping. ⁍ Also Lamb killed Narinder lol ⁍ Mystic Seller is named "That Which Takes" ⁍ Leshycat's canon but I'll never design them its just gonna be like in Tom and Jerry where they're just slightly offscreen at all times ⁍ Midas that rat fuck owes me 20$ ⁍ Surprisingly, Heket got the closest to killing The Lamb. She wears this as a badge of honor, or as a means to make fun of the other Bishops. I forget which. ⁍ I might make a fanfic one of these days based on cult of the sham but it'd literally just be an always sunny episode lol ⁍ Webber is literally the exact same as the one from Don't Starve. They had to put him down because he kept placing spider nests all over the Cult, and Pigs kept trying to throw down. ⁍ A little gnome just ran behind you when you weren't looking. ⁍ The Lamb is ambidextrous, this is because I keep forgetting which hand to have them hold stuff with. They also have no idea what this word means. ⁍ The gnome ran behind you again you gotta pay more attention to this stuff ⁍ ☺sorry i didn't mean to do it that time ⁍ Clauneck and Kudaai like switching clothes and acting like eachother to fuck with people, it works every time without fail. ⁍ Aym and Baal are hanging out with Forneus. The Lamb didn't let them do this, they literally just booked it as soon as they got the chance and Forneus totally could beat the shit out of The Lamb. ⁍ help its red now ⁍ nevermind we're good ⁍ Ratau was driven mad by the crown. He's had the knowledge of the gods ripped from his skull and delicately placed onto some psychopathic woolen beast. He's not all there. ⁍ Any time I'm working on COTL stuff I'm usually listening to King Gizzard and the Wizard Lizard. To get the general tone I try and set, listen to their album "I'm In Your Mind Fuzz". Good stuff. ⁍ The Industrial Meat Grinder incident was an inside job.

thank y'all for all the support, means the world that people actually like the delusional ramblings that come out of my brain at...

yeah that tracks.

also one more little mini preview for a drawing that might get finished one of these days idk

why is webber there i genuinely do not remember???

#cult of the lamb #art #cotl #cotl art #cotl lamb #cotl goat #cotl narinder #cotl au #delusional ramblings #im out of tags

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barrenclan · 5 months ago

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Chonny Jash's cover of The Moss seems very patfw-core to me. I think someone's brought it up before but I'd like to specifically point out some of the new/changed lyrics that I think fit

But everything you see isn't everything that is

Every thing you think to be, every thought you can't dismiss

The lives we try to lead and the time we try to give

Well it's all a fallacy, we continue to relive

^ Cats like Pinepaw and Rainhaze's curiosity about what's beyond Barrenclan territory, how cats like Cootstorm try to discourage that type of thinking and how their actions unintentionally lead them to their fates. Also very cyclecore

And every thing will live, just as every thing will die

Every foe that you forgive, and every friend that you deny

Every single first hello, and every single last goodbye

Every smile that you show, every tear that you hide

^ In my head I'm picturing an amv/pmv and for this part I'm very much imagining a sort of slideshow section about contrasts and various events: Barrenclan/Defiance, Rainhaze and Ranger/Rainhaze and Asphodelpaw, Pinepaw and Saturn/Pinepaw and Wild Rose, Slugpelt and Cashew/Slugpelt and Dustfeather. Idk if that makes sense

Well, legend has it that we're all just doomed

And we've ruined our society

Well, legend has it that we dug our tomb

Which we'll lie in for all eternity

^ Barrenclan's whole staying as punishment for their cowardice ideology

Well legend has it that, the world once knew a whole palette of lovely blues and greens

Well legend has it that, our corpses lie a foundation of insincerity

^ what Barrenclan's territory used to be - blue and green - and what it is now - on a foundation of corpses

*Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz* *Attempts to Jashify Raz—

I've seen a lot of people in the server talking about Chonny Jash, he seems pretty fun. But if I'm honest, I'm more of a Johnny Cash fan. :P

youtube

Ooh, yes! You've targeted me with a TMBG suggestion, I actually went ahead and added "Don't Let's Start" to the playlist but I love this song too.

Even when you're out of work you still have a job to do Even when you don't know what it is Your job knows what it is What it is is it's coming to get you

And when you wake up you can feel your hair grow Crawl out of your cave and you can watch your shadow Creep across the ground until the day is done All the while the planet circles 'round the sun

youtube

Haha, that is funny irony. But I agree with you! Isn't it interesting how despite being named that way, "Defiance" doesn't allow any of its members to defy Deepdark?

Compliance We just need your compliance You will feel no pain anymore No more defiance

Fall into line, you will do as you're told No choice fatigue, your blood is running cold We lose control, the world will fall apart Love of your life will mend your broken heart

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Will Wood is ever-popular, of course, though I never got really into him. I can see this is as a Pinepaw song!

All nightmares start as dreams and I hear my subconscious screaming They say that beauty's just skin deep So naturally, please show me your

Bones, bones, bones, let me see your bones Well, I don't wanna know if the feeling follows home Bones, bones, bones, hell, we're all alone If I come home, baby, will you show your bones?

They say that beauty's just skin deep So Ana stands and rends the rancid meat from her

youtube

Oh... Rainhaze and Slugpelt song.

Are you dead or are you sleepin'? Are you dead or are you sleepin'? God, I sure hope you are dead

Well, you disappeared so often like you dissolved into coffee Are you here right now, or are there probably fossils under your meat?

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Defiance song! Spefically, I could see it as from Ranger/broader Defiance's perspective as he navigates the group.

We're at a revolution And we're baying for your blood We're laying down the law And your name's mud

Cause you say you fight for us Cross your heart and hope to die You're the bully in the playground and we'll hang you out to dry

youtube

Oh yeah, I remember this song from the IncuriousCat PMV. I like it! "Nowhere King" is also a Deepdark song, so that creepy children's song-esque music does fit with the series. If anyone wanted to edit together a trailer it'd be cool!

youtube

Perfect. No notes.

youtube

Actually, someone's already made a PMV to the comic with the song! You can check it out here.

I don't think it's been suggested yet! It's a Pinepaw song, of course.

I'll cut my hair (Ooh) to make you stare (Ooh) I'll hide my chest And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

I can't really think right now and this place Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead 'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

youtube

#ask #anon #music #pinepaw #defiance #rainhaze #slugpelt #deepdark

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ashesandhackles · 11 months ago

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Harry and Dumbledore: Crisis of Faith

The Life and Lies of Dumbledore chapter from DH lives rent free in my head, and I would love to get on my soapbox about why. It's no secret that DH is an allegorical tale with Harry as Christ figure and Dumbledore positioned as God figure - often represented by the symbolism of the all-seeing eye. The eye in the mirror (which turns out to Aberforth, who sends Dobby to the rescue), the symbol of Deathly Hallows in Dumbledore's signature.

Eye symbolism:

A flash of brightest blue. Harry froze, his cut finger slipping on the jagged edge of the mirror again. He had imagined it, he must have done... If anything was certain, it was that the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore would never pierce him again.

and

Above what Harry assumed was the title of the story (being unable to read runes, he could not be sure) , there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, its pupil crossed with a vertical line.

The Deathly Hallows or the Gifts of Death is marked by a triangular eye - and it is explicitly seen as God's eye in Christian art and iconography.

So now, back to the chapter, where Harry completely loses faith:

The sun was coming up: The pure, colorless vastness of the sky stretched over him, indifferent to him and his suffering. Harry sat down in the tent entrance and took a deep breath of clean air.

The chapter opens with the smallness of Harry against the vast sky, a bird's eye view shot to really highlight how vulnerable he feels. On the heels of the chapters where he sees himself and his family immortalised in statues and have their bombed home preserved as memorial - a site people take comfort from the legend of Harry, and Harry takes comfort from the graffiti they left behind - it feels especially isolated. The vulnerability is glaring: Harry has lost the protection of the twin cores. The church bells are distant.

His senses had been spiked by the calamity of losing his wand. He looked out over a valley blanketed in snow, distant church bells chiming through the glittering silence.

Harry does not deal with vulnerability, most specifically helplessness very well. As a child raised in an abusive environment - his savior complex is rooted in needing to have agency. We see him grappling with what he perceives as complete abandonment from Dumbledore: 'Dumbledore had left them to grope in the darkness, to wrestle with unknown and undreamed-of terrors, alone and unaided: Nothing was explained, nothing was given freely, they had no sword, and now, Harry had no wand.'

And then, Harry reads the chapter titled Greater Good from Rita Skeeter's book.

So what was Albus doing, if not comforting his wild young brother? The answer, it seems, is ensuring the continued imprisonment of his sister.

This is important, because Harry's feelings about this are made clear in earlier chapters:

Could Dumbledore have let such things happen? Had he been like Dudley, content to watch neglect and abuse as long as it did not affect him? Could he have turned his back on a sister who was being imprisoned and hidden?

Harry is projecting onto Ariana Dumbledore, specifically with his experience of the Dursleys. He had once raged at Dumbledore in OOTP: "People don't like being locked up! You did it to me last summer!"

Harry's grievance with Dumbledore is not just about this exchange, but a specific choice Dumbledore made for his physical safety with blood wards. The narrative comes close to acknowledging it, in OOTP:

“Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle’s doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years.” He paused. Harry said nothing.

“She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn — ” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.”

He knew one thing, though: unhappy as he felt at the moment, he would greatly miss Hogwarts in a few days' time when he was back at number four, Privet Drive. Even though he now understood exactly why he had to return there every summer, he did not feel any better about it. Indeed, he had never dreaded his return more.

Harry understands it then, so it is striking that the only time he allows himself to get truly angry at the position Dumbledore put him in this chapter, through Ariana:

“I’m not trying to defend what Dumbledore wrote,” said Hermione. “All that ‘right to rule’ rubbish, it’s ‘Magic Is Might’ all over again. But Harry, his mother had just died, he was stuck alone in the house —” “Alone? He wasn’t alone! He had his brother and sister for company, his Squib sister he was keeping locked up —”

“I don’t believe it,” said Hermione. She stood up too. “Whatever was wrong with that girl, I don’t think she was a Squib. The Dumbledore we knew would never, ever have allowed —” “The Dumbledore we thought we knew didn’t want to conquer Muggles by force!” Harry shouted, his voice echoing across the empty hilltop, and several blackbirds rose into the air, squawking and spiraling against the pearly sky.

I am especially struck by the image of Harry's angry shouting making blackbirds fly into the pearly sky, and spiral over him. Blackbirds are associated with mystery, secrets and are seen as messengers to netherworld - this combined with the image of pearly white sky (heavens/God) seems intentional. It is carrying Harry's disillusionment to the heavens.

And then, the quote that pierces my soul, which is the heart of this chapter:

“Maybe I am!” Harry bellowed, and he flung his arms over his head, hardly knowing whether he was trying to hold in his anger or protect himself from the weight of his own disillusionment. “Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don’t expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I’m doing, trust me even though I don’t trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!”

It is reminiscent of Snape's "you have used me! I have spied for you, lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you" - basically, "why have you forsaken me?" moment.

He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose?

The chapter being set in whiteness and emptiness, reminiscent of King's Cross chapter where Harry does get his answers from Dumbledore.

And then Hermione, who has modified her parents memories, can confidently assert that "He loved you, I know he loved you", because her love for her parents, for Ron, can also be sacrificed at the altar of greater good, even if it means doing things that would hurt them (not choosing to go with Ron) and dismiss their agency (as is with her parents). It doesn't mean she doesn't love them.

“I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Harry ends the chapter with seeking comfort from Hermione's touch, brushing his hair - wishing he could believe that Dumbledore really cared. (shoutout to @bluethepineapple meta here about this chapter)

And it is then where Dumbledore's gifts come in motion next chapter: his Deluminator lets Ron find his way back. Snape, effectively Dumbledore's man, sends the doe. Harry counts on what he learned from Dumbledore to destroy the Horcrux - he gives Ron the opportunity to wield the sword:

As certainly as he had known that the doe was benign, he knew that Ron had to be the one to wield the sword. Dumbledore had at least taught Harry something about certain kinds of magic, of the incalculable power of certain acts.

And then by Shell Cottage, Harry accepts Dumbledore's plan as is, and reaffirms his faith in Dumbledore's idea of Greater Good:

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.

And then Harry chooses to stay on path Dumbledore laid out for him, only wishing now that he simply understood the man:

When Harry had finished speaking (about Voldemort), Ron shook his head. “You really understand him.” “Bits of him,” said Harry. “Bits . . . I just wish I’d understood Dumbledore as much. But we’ll see. Come on — Ollivander now.”

And finally, he starts to understand Dumbledore - through his conversation with Aberforth:

"And Albus was free, wasn’t he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest wizard of the —” “He was never free,” said Harry. “I beg your pardon?” said Aberforth. “Never,” said Harry. “The night that your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there. ‘Don’t hurt them, please . . . hurt me instead.’” “He thought he was back there with you and Grindelwald, I know he did,” said Harry, remembering Dumbledore whimpering, pleading. “He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana. . . . It was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”

Finally, he gets his chance to have a conversation with Dumbledore at the crossroads of life and death. TLDR: Deathly Hallows is an allegorical tale and it is best to treat it as such and roll with it, because otherwise it's deus ex machina galore.

#albus dumbledore #harry james potter #hp meta #deathly hallows

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