#let me know if you would like to be removed as well

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ a very klutzy christmas ; lh43

➪ summary: something always seemed to go wrong when luke hughes, y/n y/l/n and the Christmas spirit were put in the same place together

➪ warnings: reader is klutzy, being late, forgetting things, running into people (?)

➪ word count: 3.2k

➪ file type: fic - ho ho hockey!

➪ cupid's notes: part of ho ho hockey! i'm so excited for you guys to read this fic, it was supposed to be a four times their christmases were less than ideal but i got carried away with writing this one that i just decided to leave it at this! if you guys want me to write the other three i definitely can, just let me know :)

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Luke c’mon! We have to go, we’re already late.”

She bounced on her feet as she waited to hear the footsteps of her boyfriend, every passing second felt like an eternity. She flicked her eyes down to her watch, groaning at the time it displayed. They were supposed to have left over half an hour ago, and for once it wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend’s family was sitting around their house waiting for them to arrive. 

“Luke, I swear if you’re not out here in 30 seconds I’m going to lose my shit!”

And exactly 30 seconds later she heard the footsteps of her boyfriend climbing down the stairs, pulling his sweater on that was no doubt what she had laid out for him the night before. He jumped off the last step, ruffling his hand through his hair, flashing her a smile, “I’m ready.”

She only stared at him, anger shining in her eyes. Luke simply walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek, giving her an innocent look, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“We were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, probably more now, and you’re over here taking your sweet ass fucking time-”

“Baby calm down, look at me,” He placed his hands on her arms, looking down at her with a comforting smile, “Everything's going to be okay. They’re not going to be mad at you, they’re not going to be mad at all. Well, maybe my mom will be but definitely not at you. Take a deep breath, alright?”

She sighed and ran a shaky hand over her coat, “Fine, but I’m still mad because I have to wear this,” she pulled on her red turtleneck, “because someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Luke’s boyish grin made its way onto his face as he slipped his new sneakers on, moving to open the door for her, “M’lady.”

She stepped through the doorway, making her way down the hallway as Luke trailed behind her, easily catching up to throw an arm around her shoulder and place a kiss on her temple. She softened slightly and looked up at him, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Maybe she was over-stressing just a little bit. It would be her and Luke’s ‘second’ Christmas together, but only her first with his family and it was getting to her head. She had met his family plenty of times before, even spending the summer at the lake house, and spending countless nights at Luke’s old apartment with Jack before he moved in with her. But something about the Christmas energy made her nervous, and something always seemed to go wrong when you put Luke Hughes, y/n y/l/n, and the Christmas spirit together. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to the Hughes’ house was quick and familiar, y/n watching the snow fall with nothing short of amusement and nervousness. Luke’s hand rested on her thigh, emanating a comforting feeling and a warmth that she could only associate with him.

She glanced over at him, watching as he removed his hand from her thigh to make the turn down his parents’ street. He was dressed in one of her favorite sweaters of his, it was a nice dark but muted blue that she always loved on him and the collar of his white dress shirt folded over the neckline. His legs were adorned with one of the many pairs of black jeans he owned and his favorite pair of new white sneakers on his feet. 

Luke looked over at her, a smirk on his face once he caught her staring, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, but thankfully the darkness that settled at only 4:00 pm covered it well. He held out his hand, making a small gesture to get her to place hers in his. Once she did, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed it,  “Whatcha lookin’ at pretty girl?”

“You.” Y/n replied in a murmur, curling up in the car seat as best as she could, “I did a good job at picking out your outfit.”

“‘Course you did, why do you think I let you?”

She only blushed more at his response, going back to look out the window just in time to see Ellen and Jim’s house come into view. A new wave of nerves settled over her as they pulled into the driveway. She felt Luke’s hand squeeze hers as he turned the car off, shifting to look at her.

Y/n looked over at him and smiled before glancing in the back seat. Her eyes widened as she saw the lack of her favorite Christmas dish, “Luke!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We forgot the pie.” She groaned, sitting back in her seat and throwing her head back against the headrest, “Fucking hell.”

“Y/n/n it’s okay, they’re not gonna-”

“That’s not the point Luke. I promised your mom I would bring something and now I forgot it.”

Luke’s face settled into a pout at the disappointment that tainted her face. He reached for her hand again, clutching it between both of his, allowing his thumb to rub over her knuckles, “Baby, listen, please. I know how well you wanted today to be, how perfect you wanted it to be. And I understand that them not being mad isn’t the problem.

“But they love you, probably more than me. They’re not going to be upset because you were having to deal with your childish boyfriend.”

She glanced over at his teasing tone, a huge smile on his face once he saw her lips turn up. She only let out a small ‘humph’ before responding, “You’re always making dumb jokes at the most inappropriate times.”

“I’m just trying to get my girl to smile, is that such a crime these days?”

“I suppose not, but you still have to make it up to me.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” A mischievous glint lit in his eye as he leaned closer to her.

“I don’t know.” She murmured quietly before replicating his actions, meeting his lips over the center console.

Luke grinned into the kiss before pulling away and leaving a small kiss on her forehead, “Let’s go, yeah?”

She nodded as she pulled away, climbing out of the car. She pulled her coat tighter around her, watching as Luke opened the trunk and grabbed the presents, stacking them on top of each other.

“Be careful Lukas, you know what happened last year.”

He rolled his eyes, making his way up the front steps after slamming the trunk closed. He knocked on the front door just as y/n walked up beside him, looping her arm through his.

Soon, the door opened and Jim stood in the entry of the house, “Hey you two.”

“Hi, Mr. Hughes!”

Jim took the presents from his youngest son, before gesturing them into the house, “How many times have Ellen and I told you to just call us by our names, Y/n?”

A sheepish grin made her way to her face, stepping inside of the Hughes’ house, and immediately she was met with the comforting atmosphere of the home. She moved to slip off her boots, but Luke’s hand placed on her lower back stopped her, “I got you.”

This only made her face flush more as Luke knelt down and unzipped her boots, sliding them off with ease. Her nervousness didn’t falter, however, slightly stumbling as Luke pulled her into the kitchen where his mom stood, “Hi momma.”

Ellen looked up from what she was doing, smiling much like him, “Hi! Oh, Luke why’d make the poor girl wait to be here? Probably stressed her out a ton.” She pulled her son into a hug, squeezing him tightly as she pestered him.

As she pulled away, she turned her attention to his girlfriend, her smile getting even wider if that was possible, “Hello sweetheart. Thank you so much for coming, we’re so happy to have you.”

Y/n hugged her back, “Thank you for having me! And you’re right, Luke did make me stress.”

The woman only briefly pulled away to swat at her son’s arm, who held his hands up in surrender before making his way over to where his brothers were, whatever that may have been. Ellen finally pulled out of the hug to continue working on the mashed potatoes.

The girl raised up on her toes as a nervous habit, “Do you need any help?”

“If you want to! You can start setting the table if you wish, dear.”

As she grabbed the plates and started setting the table, she released a small sigh before speaking up, “Also, I may have sort of forgotten the pie. I had it in the fridge and then I just got so flustered before we left that I forgot it.”

“Oh honey, it’s okay. I made extra dessert anyways because Jack always eats all of it.”

“I do not. That is extremely hurtful.” Jack walked into the kitchen, hand brushing an invisible piece of fuzz off his shirt, “Quinn helps too.”

He wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, bringing her into a side hug, “And nice to see you y/n/n. Good job at dressing Luke.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his words, a small smirk playing on her lips, “I do try to make sure my boyfriend is dressed nicely. It seems you don’t have anyone to help you.”

He scoffed playfully, “I am wounded. You are supposed to be on my side here too.”

“If you’re going to be in the kitchen, you are going to be helping. Help y/n set the plates- Don’t whine at me, Jack.”

He grumbled, taking a stack of forks into his hands and placing them on the side of the plates. 

“Forks go on the left, Jacky. Knives go on the right, ” Y/n teased, now placing napkins on top of each plate, laughing as she heard another annoyed groan from him and watched his eyes roll.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After a while, dinner was nearing ready, y/n having spent most of the time in the kitchen talking with Ellen and helping out when she could. She wiped her hands on her skirt, trying to rid herself of the sweat that clung to them. 

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom quickly if that’s okay?”

Ellen laughed, “You don’t need to ask to go to the bathroom, hon. Just go, I’ll be fine here.”

She blushed, another wave of embarrassment washed over her as she took in her words, “Right.”

She started walking out of the kitchen, scolding herself softly at her actions, stop embarrassing yourself. She froze halfway out of the kitchen, backtracking once she realized she didn’t actually know where the bathroom was, “Mrs- Ellen? Where exactly is-”

“Down the hall and to your left, baby.” A hand fell on her shoulder and a kiss was placed on her temple. 

She turned to look at who it was, grinning when she saw the familiar face of her boyfriend, a lopsided grin that practically matched her own on his face. He kissed her head again, wrapping her up in a hug. He hadn’t seen her since they arrived, catching up with his dad and oldest brother in the living room as they watched whatever sports game was on. 

“Missed you.” He murmured into her ear, squeezing her a little tighter afterward.

“We’ve only been separated for what? 40 minutes?”

“Doesn’t matter, still missed you.”

They stayed like that for a minute before she reminded him softly that she had to go to the bathroom. He pulled away and walked over to his mom, starting up a conversation about something she had no clue about. She was already heading out of the kitchen and down the hallway when she heard them talk. 

She got halfway to the bathroom, looking down at her feet as she thought to herself, when her head knocked against something, groaning in pain, “Mother fucker-” She blinked the tears away that stung in her eyes, clutching her head. 

Once the tears were cleared enough that she could see, she saw Jack standing there, mirroring her actions with a hand to his head. He had been just heading out of the bathroom when it happened, thoughts also racing in his mind causing him to not look where he was going when he ran into her, heads meeting.

“Fucking hell that hurt.” He exclaimed, rubbing at the spot on his forehead that took most of the impact.

They didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just trying to ease their rapidly growing headaches. Once they both got it calmed down enough, they stared at each other before letting out laughs of amusement, “We really need to pay better attention to where we’re walking huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t need everyone to stare at my forehead and then explain that the Jack Hughes caused the bump.”

He ushered her forehead, planning to get him and y/n ice packs from the freezer, but when she took a step, black dots clouded at the edge of her vision causing her to stumble, just barely catching herself against the wall. She heard Jack’s curse, leaning into him as an arm came around her waist, “You okay?”

“Dizzy.” She murmured back, closing her eyes and opening them again, hopes of clearing her fuzzy vision failing. 

“Hold on. Luke!”

Y/n winced at Jack’s yell, pain worsening in her head. She could only give a soft nod of acknowledgment at his whispered apology, holding onto him tighter as she felt the overwhelming dizzy feeling wash over her. 

Luke came walking out of the kitchen, eyes drifting down the hallway, “What’re you yelling for?”

His gaze fell upon his brother and girlfriend, huddled together against a wall, a worried expression on the former and a pained one on the other, “What happened? Is she okay?”

He walked briskly to get to the two, immediately taking his girlfriend into his arms, pressing multiple soft kisses to her head, and rubbing her arm up and down, “What’s going on?”

“We knocked our heads together, was going to get us ice packs when she stumbled. Said she felt dizzy.”

“I’m fine, just dizzy like he said.”

Luke shook his head, tucking her into his side safely, walking them back to the kitchen to sit down, “Let’s get you some ice, sweet girl, c’mon.”

He sat her down on a chair, brushing the hair away from her face. He heard Jack mumble something to their mom but his focus was solely on his girlfriend, cupping her face and looking over her head. She winced as his thumb brushed over the point of impact, shaking her head slightly at his apology. 

There was a tap on Luke’s shoulder, Ellen now standing behind him with an ice pack wrapped in a towel in her hand, “Here. Put this on her forehead for ten minutes and then take it off.”

He nodded, taking the ice pack from her and placing it gently on y/n’s forehead. Ellen smiled softly before switching her gaze to the girl, “How’re you doing?”

“Could be worse,” she murmured, blinking slowly to clear her vision again. “Has to be the first time I’ve knocked heads with someone this hard.”

“That’s just because Jack has a big head.” A new voice entered the room and as best as she could, she moved her eyes to find the third Hughes brother.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Would you shut up?” Luke asked exasperated, pressing the ice pack a little harder into his girlfriend’s head as she winced from the noise.

“Sorry.” The two murmured.

“S’okay. Just fight quieter please if you’re going to fight.” She spoke up, leaning into the cold compress.

They nodded taking their seats at the table as they watched their younger brother and his girlfriend. Luke slowly took the icepack away from her head, placing it on the ground next to her chair. He moved the hair that had fallen back into her face, tucking it behind her ear, “You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He stands up, placing a kiss on her temple before sitting down next to her. The six of them start eating, easily falling into a conversation about hockey even after the multiple attempts Ellen had to end it. Y/n doesn’t mind it, her head is still pounding and even the thought of thinking about hockey is hurting it more.

She eats the majority of the food Luke has placed on her plate, taking her time and pushing it around slightly. She feels bad, she doesn’t want Ellen to feel like she doesn’t like the food, but it’s hard for her to focus right now and the knocking her head against Jack’s has left her more tired than she was when she arrived.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After dinner, the six of them all clean up, or y/n tries to and then is scolded by Luke and his mom to sit on the chair or go into the living room and lie down. So that’s where she was when Luke came and found her, curled up on one side of the couch, her head resting on the armrest.

“Hey,” he kisses her softly, sitting down next to her, “You want to head out?”

She went to protest, saying they hadn’t opened their gifts or even had dessert yet but the idea of going home sounded really appealing, so she nodded, using Luke’s help to stand up. They walked back to the kitchen, informing everyone that they were going to be heading back home. 

Luke grabbed the small platter of cookies and pieces of pie from his mom, y/n thanking her for him. They then made their way into the foyer where Luke helped her get her boots on, patting each thigh when he was done. 

They said their goodbyes and then walked down the driveway with gifts and dessert in hand, placing them in the backseat before climbing into the car.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I feel better after eating.”

“That’s good.”

He pulled out of the driveway, making their way down the street when he heard her voice, “Can’t believe the first Christmas with your family we show up late, we forget the pie and I knocked heads with your brother.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, did you expect anything less?”

She thought about it, and no she didn’t expect less. Ever since she and Luke met their Christmases had been less than ideal. When they met, she knocked into him at a coffee shop, successfully spilling coffee all over herself and Luke. On their first Christmas together, Luke broke his gift for her, and she had to deal with a flustered and anxious Luke. And now this.

“You’re right. I think we’re just destined to have dumbass Christmases.”

“Hey, at least it’ll be my turn next year. Let’s hope I don’t break something.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

He did indeed break something, his arm. He was setting up Christmas lights around their house, it would be the first one in it. He didn’t know how it happened, all he knew was that one moment he was connecting sets of lights and the next he was on the ground clutching his arm in pain. It was a long night in the ER. 

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© CUPIDBEDSY

[filthyf1]

A Long Short Time

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

content warning: MINORS DNI (18+); Porn WITH Plot, cunnilingus, blowjob, unprotected sex, slightly tipsy sex?... Not entirely healthy relationship dynamics….

summary: Daniel and you broke up two months ago. He comes back to get the last of his things…. And the rest is history.

word count: 5k

author's notes: AHHHHHH this was so nerve wracking.... it's been so long since I've written anything so please let me know your thoughts!!!

____

Two months. A short time that felt like a millenia to you. The apartment felt emptier than usual. He wasn’t there often before, but it was more than never. Life felt slow and tedious, and you weren’t exactly adapting well. 

It had been two months since you and Daniel broke up. That felt like such a silly and simple way to explain it, but that’s exactly what happened. It was and then it wasn’t. Four years and it was over just like that. 

Daniel was let go from VCARB after the Singapore GP. The fans could tell something was wrong from his interviews, and their guesses were spot on. He’d known it was the end and given it his all, understanding that it wouldn’t be enough. His whole life came to an abrupt halt, just like that. What was the point of contracts in the first place? It felt like a crime to let him go before COTA, and yet… 

Just as his career came to a screeching halt, your relationship did as well. The comfort you thought you could give was simply not enough. Nothing you could say or do could make it right. It made sense even if it hurt. What do you do when the thing you’ve worked for your whole life gets pulled out from under you? Some people cope and move on, collect the pieces and figure out how to go forward. Some people burn the rest of the world around them and crash. 

What began as trying to comfort him turned into an all-out shouting match and ended in the door slamming behind him. 

“I can’t do this! What the fuck would you do?”

“I don’t know! Lean on my friends? Family? My fucking girlfriend, maybe?”

“Well, nothing like this has happened to you. You just get to sit around and be pretty. Life is so fucking easy for you.”

That last one stung - his sharp words certainly hit their mark. You played the conversation over and over again in your head for the past 60 days, trying to think of an alternative ending.

The movers eventually came and took his things, leaving both the space and your heart wide and empty. And that was how the past two months went. Your apartment was small, but when a whole other person’s things were removed, it felt much too large.You got to see him unwind and find himself by his own posts and his friends’ on social media. The news outlets were fucking annoying. Apparently, one of the most interesting things to report on was an F1 driver’s relationship status. And the paparazzi had exactly as much sympathy as you expected. You were sure there were at least a dozen photos of you crying floating around on Twitter, Facebook, etc. 

It was your turn to feel stuck. You felt like the last four years were a waste. What were you working towards? It was upended so swiftly and easily. You saw Daniel regaining the light back in his eyes while he attended sporting events and went dirt biking with his friends. You sat in your flat drinking wine and looking at the city lights contemplating what could have been. 

There were things you wanted to accomplish that you put on the back burner and now regretted never pursuing. Maybe once you got your spirit back, you’d go after the fashion degree or write that book that always sat in the back of your mind. Just a little bit more groveling…

What really hurt was finding things the movers missed. Little things here and there that you knew he would miss, a helmet here, a jersey there. So instead of burning them like a lot of people might, you gathered them and put them in a box. You put your big girl pants on and sent him a text, hoping it would still go through, and let him know he could pick it up whenever he was back in the city. And to your surprise, not only did the message go through, but he answered. It was the only thing you’d heard from him since he left and unfortunately, you clung to it. 

It was another Friday night that wine was your companion. Your friend had visited for a few days for some gossip and retail therapy, but unfortunately she had left earlier that day and you let the loneliness seep back in. The riesling helped dull it a little bit. You were halfway through the bottle, feeling the pleasant buzz settle into your muscles. 

Music swept through your apartment while you danced and cleaned things here and there when your phone dinged on the counter, interrupting the melody you were currently feeling. Thinking it was your friend who forgot her lipstick on your counter, you swiped the message open without a second thought. Once you read it, however, the blood drained from your face and you looked on in horror.

Be there in 20 if you’re still awake.

Okay…. Okay. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You were very much not sober enough for this. The bottle of wine looked on in amusement and you glared at it, as if it wasn’t your choice to partake in the first place. That still didn’t stop you from chugging the rest of the glass in front of you. Maybe it would help you to be more relaxed or cool in his presence. You glanced at the clock on your oven.

11:20PM.

Late, but not ridiculously so. You wondered what exactly he was doing in the country. But that wasn’t really any of your business anymore. 

It was fully in your right to deny him, let him know it was not a good time to stop by. Your sober self needed 3 to 5 business days to prepare for this, but your tipsy self wanted him to stop by now. Your chest ached at the thought of seeing his face again in person. You craved it desperately. Against your better judgement, your fingers sent out a quick, “Ok.”

Oh, God, what were you doing? 

Simply put, you fucking missed him. There was no denying or getting around it.

“Fuck, this is happening,” you breathed to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, a nervous mess. You ran to the bathroom to do a once over; you looked as much a mess as you expected. Hair everywhere and eyes slightly glassy from alcohol. You swallowed hard, trying to fix things, but gave up after a minute or two.

Sitting back in your kitchen, you nursed another glass of wine. There was no going back now, so you might as well commit. A knock came a few minutes later, causing you to jump in your seat. 

“Fuck,” one more for the road. 

You approached the door slowly like a victim in a horror movie. One last hesitation, and the door swung open and there he was.

He stood tall, not at all bowed under the pressure he had experienced so recently. His hair was longer than you remembered, the curls so perfect and tangled it hurt. They weren’t yours to run your hands through anymore. You were sure you looked sad and pathetic, and he stood in front of you looking healthy and radiant, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. He looked damn good.

A breathy, “Hi,” was all you could muster. You immediately kicked yourself internally. So much for keeping your cool. Daniel gave you a once over that made you feel hot inside and self-conscience at the same time.

“Hi,” he gave a soft smile and you nearly melted. It was such a stark difference from how your last conversation ended. You stood in silence for another few seconds, taking him in. This was how you wanted to remember him. 

“Fuck, uh, sorry, I don’t have your stuff here,” you shook yourself out of the trance. “Do you… want to come in for a minute?” You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You didn’t have a great track record with exes and them visiting your place of residence. 

“I’ve got the time,” he said. 

You’d be lying if a plethora of less than innocent thoughts were running through your head. He looked better than you remembered, and the feelings were still there, ready to be unearthed at a moment's notice.

He took everything in. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension and you wondered what he was thinking. His eyes settled on the empty wine glass and less than full bottle.

“Been drinking?” He asked and a smirk settled onto his lips. His facial hair was growing in, and you’d be lying if your mind didn’t wander. Beard burn was a hell of a drug.

“Yea,” you said sheepishly, a hand running through your hair to dispel your nerves. “There’s whiskey if you want a drink. I still have your favorite… I don’t really drink it…” You trailed off, not really expecting him to accept. You thought he would be itching to leave as soon as possible, the weight of the last conversation heavy on your mind. To your surprise, he opened the cabinet that he knew very well and grabbed the whiskey. He grabbed a glass (the cabinet never changed either) and poured himself a double. 

“Cheers,” he held the cup out. You poured the rest of the wine into your stemmed glass and clinked your glass against his. You paused, watching him down the glass, his Adam's apple bobbing and a single droplet of whiskey dripping from his lips and trailing down his neck. Sinful thoughts flashed across your eyes, but long gone now were the days where you could lick it away. You averted your eyes quickly and drank your wine in one swift gulp. Anything to distract you from the images circling through your head. 

“You’ve been doing well - at least from what I’ve seen,” you placed the wine glass down in the kitchen sink and Daniel followed suit. The heat of his body was heavy behind you, his arm right next to yours. You fought everything in you to fight freezing. Surely, he wasn’t doing this on purpose? You didn’t have much time to contemplate as his body was gone in the next moment. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter - his arms propped his body up and you chose to avert your eyes from his toned form. Two months was clearly not enough time to stop those thoughts from clouding your mind. Was it you or did he just look you up and down?

“I’ve been… okay,” he didn’t elaborate, but the silence explained enough. Maybe it was easier to put on a smile for the camera.

“You still miss it,” it wasn’t a question.

“Every day,” he nearly whispered. His warm brown eyes held yours for a second too long and you wondered if you were still talking about racing. You cleared your throat, not totally sure how to address that. 

“Things ended pretty poorly, huh,” you averted your eyes. Now was not the time to let your tears get the best of you. Your last argument was the elephant in the room and you’d explode if you avoided it for another second. There was a tightly wound bundle of resentment, pain, and anger in your stomach. You were mad at him for walking away. Mad that he seemed to get over things pretty damn quick while you were still fumbling for a grasp on things. Mad that he walked right back in like nothing happened.

“You could say that again,” he said simply. You went to speak again but he cut you off. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

Your eyes shot to his. He wasn’t really one to open up and talk about things like that. He tended to take things out on the track and work through them that way. He didn’t have that anymore though, so maybe he found talking was easier these days. 

“Thank you,” you said roughly. Blinking rapidly to stop tears from coming forward. What were you supposed to do now? You never stopped loving him, but you were feeling so many other conflicting feelings at the same time. Daniel made a move as if to come forward and comfort you, then thought twice about it. He was obviously feeling a lot of things too. He cleared his throat.

“So, you said you put everything in a box?” He looked around. If things were heavy before, they weighed a ton now. 

“Um, yes, your stuff is in the hall closet. I put it in a box for you - I’m not sure it'll fit in whatever car you drove, but you can always send someone to pick it up for you,” you over-explained as you walked towards said storage. Were you delirious or was that his body heat on your back? This time it did not disappear. 

You slowed, turning to face him. He was as close as you suspected, his strong frame standing over you. His pupils were blown, his breathing slightly accelerated. You’d be a fool to deny that his scent was intoxicating. The same cologne and musk you remembered that was distinctly Daniel made your head spin. You swallowed hard and Daniel’s eyes flickered down to your eyes then your throat.

“Daniel?”

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out, his voice deep and husky. Your heart pounded hard in your chest. You wanted this more than anything. You wished he’d just kiss you already. Your body ached to feel his against yours again. It had been so long. You were both suspended in time, your eyes locked with each others’.

“I missed you, too,” you replied. He looked relieved at that, like he thought you had moved on. As if you’d ever be able to do that.

“Yea?” He was even quieter that time.

“So fucking much.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I wish you would.”

Whatever dam was once there broke in an instant. Daniel surged forward and his lips enveloped yours. You couldn’t help the groan that leaked from your throat. You missed this so much it hurt. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him. His other hand found the back of your neck and his fingers wrapped into your hair. His body was hot against yours, your skin searing wherever it touched his. He backed you into the wall without his lips leaving yours once. You eagerly reached your hands to his hair and pulled on the curls you missed so much which earned you a groan in return. You fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

You gulped in air as he moved his attention to your neck, his facial hair scratching you in the way you remembered. Words couldn’t describe how much you missed this. His leg parted yours to push against your clothed cunt and pin you to the wall. God, if he thought you were moaning like a whore now… He suckled hard on the soft skin of your collar bone and your fingers tightened in his hair.

Things were complicated, sure, but this was here and now. Right now you were feeling pretty damn good for many reasons and your present self didn’t care much about the potential consequences. Daniel was a man starved and you were an oasis in the desert. 

“Take me to the fucking bedroom before I strip you here,” you barely got out.

“Can do,” he replied between pressing kisses up your neck. “Not that I would entirely mind…” His strong arms moved to loop under your thighs and lift you up easily. He took a moment to hold you against the wall and kiss you again. His need was as evident as yours; you could feel him straining against his jeans. His tongue was hot and furious against yours and you feared being fully consumed by him. 

Your body temperature was running at one-thousand degrees and you felt like you were about to burst. Daniel’s tongue was wet and insistent against yours and you drank him in. Soft groans echoed from him and you could barely handle it. He carried you to your room, placing you softly onto your plush bed. His body was heavy upon yours, barely holding himself above you. You took the opportunity to roll your hips against his, eliciting a moan from both of you. You wondered if he was with anyone in your absence and then quickly pushed that thought away. It was none of your business, and you chose to believe the answer was no based on the way he was acting. 

Your hands trailed around each other; you missed the feel of each others’ bodies. Something told you that neither of you would last long. Already you feel yourself soaking through your panties.

Barely able to tear himself from you, Daniel managed to rip his shirt off. He looked just as good as ever and your mouth watered at the happy trail disappearing into his pants. 

“See something you like?” He grins evilly.

“Shut the fuck up and take my pants off,” you sigh. He did not need to be told twice. Your pants were removed in a flash leaving you in your underwear and shirt. The shirt was quickly removed after. Lucky for you, it was nearing laundry day which meant you had only your skimpiest and laciest underwear leftover. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Daniel sighed. 

“I’d apologize but I’m not sorry…”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he leaned back in and placed soft kisses down your torso. His hands pawed your chest roughly, pinching your nipples between his fingers and causing you to keen into him. He came back to place one more kiss on your lips and captured your bottom lip between his teeth to nip at the soft, swollen skin. You rolled your hips into his again but this time he caught them and pushed his own into you to fight back. Everything with him was a delicious push and pull.

He edged back down, but not without placing wet kisses along your torso on his way there. He grabbed the band of your underwear between his teeth and pulled them off. His eyes held yours as he did so and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. The man knew how to make you blush, that was for sure. They peeled back from your dripping pussy in a way that was almost embarrassing. You didn’t miss when he took the panties and shoved them into his back pocket. 

His lips ghosted over the inside of your thighs and drank you in in a way that made you light headed. You wanted nothing more than him to put his fucking mouth to work. He could sense your urgency and gave a cheeky chuckle.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this as much as me. I’ll suck your dick if you hurry up and eat me out,” you threatened.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His mouth was warm and the pleasure shot deep through your core as soon as he ran his tongue over you. 

“Fuck,” you barely managed. Your head hit the mattress - Daniel held you tight and didn’t allow an inch for you to squirm. Your legs draped over his shoulders and your toes curled as he worked on you. The wet sounds that came from your cunt were sinful; when Daniel paused for air and to smile at you, you could see his chin glistening. He was relentless, moaning into your folds and your head started swirling. “Daniel,” you gasped and one hand clawed at his shoulder while the other held tightly to his hair. “I’m not gonna last - if you keep doing that I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” he barely pulled back. Now that he had that information, he didn’t hold back and within a minute you were writhing and moaning underneath him as white hot pleasure coursed through you. He alternated between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit. His strong arms barely flexed to hold you down as your hips rolled against his tongue. He only relented when your hips stuttered as you became overstimulated. You were gasping and swearing. It was way too long since you’d felt like this. He pulled back, but only far enough to place more open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along your thighs. He let you recover and kissed his way back up your body on your hips, your stomach, your breasts, and finally your collarbones and neck. 

“Sooooo, you said something about getting my dick sucked?” He asked and completely evaporated the heavy mood. You couldn’t help the laugh that exploded from you and you hit his shoulder weakly. He fell back dramatically on the bed, holding his shoulder in mock pain. “You wound me, woman!”

The light humor was nice, but it made your heart ache. You missed this so much and you realized that this ended with Daniel walking out the door. This was all a moment of passion after time apart. He’d take the rest of his things and go back to his life and you’d go back to yours. Instead of wallowing, you chose to shove it to the back of your mind and enjoy the moment that was happening in front of you. You put the smile back on your face and turned your attention back to Daniel. You kissed him deeply and softly once and ignored the slightly confused look on his face.

You pushed him back into the bed and he propped his head up by putting his hands behind his head, and you swallowed hard at his flexing biceps. He still wore his jeans so you palmed him roughly through the thick fabric which earned you a look that could kill. You licked a stripe over the coarse hair that sprouted up his stomach. He was hot and salty with sweat and you craved to take him into your mouth. 

Removing his belt slowly, you teased him; how much could he take? To your surprise, he was exceedingly patient and looked down at you with a disgusting smirk.  You pulled down his jeans and wiped said smirk off his face by placing a feather light kiss over his clothed cock. He smelled hot and musky, and you couldn’t wait to strip him completely. The pants and boxer briefs came off together and got tossed somewhere along the rest of the clothes on the floor.

He was just as you remembered. You suppressed the whine that built in your throat. He was already cocky enough; he didn’t need to know you missed sucking him off. You took as much of him in your mouth as you could, the rest taken care of by your hands. Another thing he didn’t need to add to his ego was his size. He was heavy and warm on your tongue with the sting of bitter saltiness from the precum that leaked from his swollen, red tip. A deep groan came from him and you looked up to see his head thrown back and his bottom lips caught between his teeth. A small ego boost for you too. 

You dragged your tongue from his base to his tip. Following the thick vein that ran up his length, you took him in again and hollowed your cheeks. He couldn’t control the groans and moans that spilled from him and one of his hands came down to wind through your hair and hold it up.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Bold of him, but you had to admit you missed this possessive side of him. You obliged him and looked him dead in the eyes but did not pause your ministrations. You let him push his hips into your mouth to fuck your throat. You were out of practice and gagged once before holding it back. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you loved it. You swallowed around his length and his hand tightened painfully in your hair. His hips thrusted against his own will and his eyes squeezed shut. “Okay… okay, stop, or I’m not gonna make it to the main event,” he breathed heavily. Still got it, you thought smugly. You released him but not before placing one last kiss on the crevice between his crotch and his thigh which earned you a satisfying twitch.

You climbed up, settling yourself on his lower stomach. This was one of both of your favorite positions. Daniel loved seeing you above him, riding his cock and finding the exact right spot that got you off. It was a position that allowed you both some control and he liked being able to see your face. You scooted back and grabbed his length, ready to position him and sink down when he halted you by catching your hips in both of his hands.

“Fuck, I didn't bring a condom,” he sighed and paused. You almost lost your mind. 

“I don't fucking care,” you moaned and pushed against him. “And I'm still on the pill.”

“You didn't stop it?”

“Just be glad I didn't and fuck me already, Daniel,” you whined. You knew adding his name would be the cherry on top of a cake he couldn't deny. He took the head of his leaking cock, swiping it through your folds to collect the excessive wetness there, and pressed himself into you slowly. The stretch ached deliciously. It had definitely been awhile. Daniel hissed between his teeth as you sunk down on his length inch by agonizing inch. 

When he was fully inside of you, you took a moment to adjust. You steadied yourself with your hands on Daniel’s chest, and he grabbed your wrists to pull you back down to him. Your lips met his in a surprisingly tender kiss that stirred things in your chest that you were having trouble keeping buried. You blinked away tears for the second time that night, but this time a warm hand came to cup your cheek and stroke the warm skin there. 

Whatever happened tonight, you hoped you and Daniel talked after this. He brought you so much joy and comfort. His warm brown eyes held yours as if to say everything would be okay.

“Okay, I’m fine. You can start moving,” you breathed out and began rocking your hips. He didn’t need to be told twice and held your hips to guide you up and down on his cock. He felt just as good as you remembered. Maybe better. The room was filled with the harmony of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your hips meeting each other. There was no sweeter sound.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he moaned. “So fucking good for me. So tight and fucking soaking. All for me,” his hips snapped to meet your movements. Him calling you baby lit a spark in your belly and spurred you on.

“Faster. Fuck me faster, Daniel,” you whined, desperately chasing your high. He complied and moved faster and harder. He stuck his two forefingers in your mouth and you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around the digits. You looked at him through your lashes and he groaned deeply. You felt deeply in your soul that only you two could have this effect on each other. His thrusts became more erratic, his breathing deeper and faster, and you knew he was nearing the edge. You decided to spur him on, wanting to hear his sweet sounds and see the beautiful face he made when he reached it. You beared down on him, squeezing him and matching his rhythm.

“You’re so good, Danny. You make me feel so good,” you could barely get the words out.

His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to maintain his composure. Sweat beaded on his brow and shined on his chest. One hand left your hip to rub quick circles on your clit to give it right back to you. You were so sensitive from earlier that the effect was immediate. One hand flew to muffle the sounds coming out of you, but Daniel ripped it away. He wanted to hear every sound uninhibited. 

He held on until your orgasm crashed over you. You hoped you wouldn’t be receiving a noise complaint from your neighbors the next day, but would understand why if you did. Your thighs shook and you couldn’t control how you rutted against Daniel like a crazed person. That was all he could take and his hands tightened painfully into your soft skin. He bit his lips hard and his eyes screwed shut. His hips hit once, twice more before slowing. Was that a whine coming from him? God, that sound alone could make you cum again. You reveled in the bliss, slowly moving your hips to ride it out. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes after, save the heaving breathing coming from both of you. Finally, you pulled yourself from Daniel, a soft sigh coming from him. You were battling yourself on what to do next. Now that it was over… What came next? Maybe you would take a hot shower and then he’d be gone with his things when you emerged. That was usually how this kind of story went, right? At least he wouldn’t be around to see you fall apart.

You made a start to get off the bed, but a warm hand wrapped around your wrist. You were pulled back down. Warm arms wrapped around you and then you were laying against his overheated body, your legs draped over his like nothing had ever changed.

“Don’t go,” he said into the top of your head.

[siflooping]

adding into this to say that i think it'd be a great exploration of like. ok let me try to word it.

edit this ended up being Way Too Fucking Long so its under a readmore. AND i broke it into two parts (added a bit of siffrin Braintime Thoughts (bad) to the next rb). i got wordy bitch disease!

so first there's the stuff that's relevant to sifloop in both canon and an au like this. loop is someone who changed so much from the Torment Nexus they were put in that they felt completely removed from who they used to be, who feels like the trauma they experienced is all they are. who loathes the person they used to be with passion, thinks that they were stupid and pathetic and needy. their past self who always felt like such a disgusting and terrible person that they assumed even their loved ones were put off by them and always one mistake away from hating them. who thought that they were objectively fundamentally unloveable.

and then loop meets someone who IS who they used to be, as a separate, distinct person. the person they, for a very long time, considered to be worthless, unloveable, repulsive by nature. they get to see themselves in third person, to interact with them as a person rather than an abstraction or their past self. and he's. well. just some guy (gn)? to someone on the outside of their head he's not horrible, mean, disgusting, selfish, monstrous, or any of the innumerable negative things siffrin as a person has always believed to be. they're just. a little guy? who is actually. kind of funny and endearing, who does his best, who loves their friends so much it hurts. who loop ends up genuinely enjoying the company of and caring about.

which i think is neat vis a vis self-perception, self-compassion and the extemely subjective way one usually sees themselves! i just think it'd be interesting to see an angle of this where sif like. remains as they were in act 1 instead of being put in the torment nexus and how that'd influence the rship.

there's no way loop WOULDN'T feel extremely bitter about the difference in their circumstances! i'm 50/50 as to whether theyd direct that towards sif as is at first (why does HE get to not suffer?! Why did THEY have to suffer where he didn't! it's not fair!). or if they'd instead direct it to like, the universe at large? in the 2hats fight they say they hate their country, the universe, the stars, but notably (to ME!) they never say they hate siffrin.

tbh i think either way they'd end up kind of hot and cold, both bitter and protective. prolly v possessive either way bc like that is LITERALLY who they were as a person before the timeloops tore away their personality and body! it's THEM. they're ALL that remains of the "original" siffrin. so if anyone gets to have him, to keep him, it should be loop! they went through hell, then had to do it AGAIN in a different flavor by watching one of their family members go through the Torment Nexus. and break out of it where they couldn't. and of realizing the reason the Torment Nexus existed, that both loop and one of their family members were pushed to the brink in a hell of repetition is bc of a Wish they accidentally made. they lost EVERYTHING. so. SOO! they deserve to have this at the very least (as a treat).

toxic yuri aside, i think non-looperrrrr siffrin's company would be unexpectedly comfortable & comforting to loop bc like. they know exactly how siffrin thinks bc you know. they used to be siffrin. esp since this siffrin isn't changed by the timeloop experience. so there's no anxiety over what he may be thinking of them (be it negative or positive) or if they secretly hate loop, because they can tell very easily! so hanging out with this siffrin would be like... reading a book you've read a million times, watching a play you've watched so many times you know every beat, or like comfort food. i knowww they'd do the equivalent of when cats act like them laying on your lap and purring is totally a coincidence, incidental, circumstancial, and does not indicate anything, you mean nothing to me, what do you mean you're going to the kitchen come BACK DONT LEAVE ME. fun for the whole family!

ok wait you know what'd be interesting and more importantly hilarious. sifloop, but in an au where someone else from the party is looping. can you fucking imagine

[marril96]

Safe Haven

Chapter 3: Cold as Revenge

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: After months of no contact, Agatha shows up at your door badly injured, and it’s up to you to help her.

Previous chapter.

"Can we go to bed now? I'm dead tired." Agatha asked. There was a pause, and then she added, "No pun intended."

Very funny. "Don't you wanna eat something?"

She shook her head. "I just want to get some sleep. It's a bit hard to rest when your hands are tied behind your back and someone's kicking you in the ribs the entire time."

A pang of rage burst within you. You weren't just going to watch her kill them. You would kill them yourself. "Sweetheart—"

"Save the pity party. Just get me to bed," Agatha said.

So you did. You walked her to the bedroom, and helped her remove her dirty clothes and change into a clean pair of pajamas. It took everything, all the strength you could muster, for you to not break into sobs as your eyes fell upon her naked body. There was barely an inch of her left untarnished. Bruises in various shapes lined her arms and legs.

Her abdomen and back bore the worst of it. Her skin, naturally creamy and fair, was painted purple.

This wasn't the purple that suited her.

This wasn't her purple.

"Want something for the pain?" you asked. You didn't have any hard stuff, but, given her condition, even an Ibuprofen could make a difference.

Agatha shook her head, nestling under the covers. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep it off."

Would she be able to sleep at all?

You doubted you would be able to sleep, and you weren't even the one who was injured.

"I'll run you a bath in the morning," you said.

She beamed at the prospect. "Will you join me?"

"Of course." That was the reason the two of you had chosen a large bath. "Now, rest up. I'll be with you shortly."

She looked at you with wide, sad puppy eyes. "You're leaving?"

"Just to take a shower," you assured her.

"Stay," she said in a small voice. Fragile. Broken.

It just about broke your heart. "I have to—"

"Please."

She knew you could never tell her no when she pleaded in that tone of voice.

Others could — and did, every time — but never you. They didn't know what it took for her to beg. They didn't know how vulnerable, how desperate she had to be in order to do it. Or if they did, they didn't care.

You did. You cared too much.

Agatha knew that, and, though manipulation came to her as easily as breathing, she never took advantage of it.

When she would look at you like that and say please in that small, sad voice, you knew it was genuine. You knew she needed you.

"Okay," you relented. "But only until you fall asleep."

Her lip quivered.

Those hunters were still out there, no doubt looking everywhere for her. Even if they couldn't enter this house, they were a danger; not just to her, but to you, as well. They could burn this house down. Blow it up. Shoot through the walls.

Neither one of you was safe.

Agatha's fear was justified. She was a target for as long as they were among the living.

"I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you again," you told her, squeezing her hand. "I promise."

You laid down beside her. Instantly, with a pained hiss, Agatha shifted towards you, resting her head on your chest.

"Are you sure about this? It's not the most comfortable position," you said.

"I'll live," she said. "Hold me."

So, you did.

You cradled her to you, careful not to hurt her. Your fingers caressed her hair, played with the locks, twisted and twined them. Her heart beat close to your chest, a steady, even rhythm in line with her breathing.

She was comfortable.

She felt safe.

You stayed that way for over two hours, long after Agatha had drifted off to sleep. You didn't have the heart to leave her yet, even temporarily.

Maybe you could stay in tonight. Maybe you could postpone your plan for the morning.

No.

It had to be done tonight.

The sooner it was dealt with, the better.

There was no way of knowing when the potion Agatha was injected with would wear off. It could be tomorrow. It could be in a week, a month, hell, maybe even a year. The people who'd captured her — who'd tortured her, broken her — wouldn't give up until they got their hands on her again.

If they were to corner you, you could fight them off. She couldn't. She had no way to defend herself.

Letting them live was too much of a risk.

As carefully as you could, you wiggled out from under Agatha and got up from the bed. I'm doing this for you, you thought as you fixed the covers and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

There was nothing you wouldn't do for her.

Even if she hated you for it.

Eventually, she would come to understand why you did it. Why you had to do it.

She'd forgiven you once. She would do so again.

***

It was well after sunset when you returned home. You hoped Agatha was still asleep, that you would have some time to lie down with her after you cleaned yourself up. You could use some cuddles after the night you'd had, and you were certain she could use a few, herself.

No such luck, though; your eyes fell upon her as you emerged from the basement, seated on the couch with a mug of coffee in hand, brows furrowed, lips tight, like a parent catching their teenage child sneaking back in after a night of hard partying.

You were ready to chastise her, to tell her she should be in bed and rest, when the scene before you set in and your mind caught up with what you were seeing. Her hair hung down her shoulders in thick, loose curls. Her fingers, wrapped around the mug, were black. She was clad in her witch outfit, the purples and blues clinging to her body, contrasting the creaminess of her skin.

Her face was flawless, no traces of the bruises that used to paint it mere hours ago. The cracks and tears on her lips were gone. She was sitting upright, her breathing normal, unbothered.

Her power was back.

She was back.

"You're awake," you said in awe, unsure of what to comment on first. So many emotions were coursing through you; excitement, relief, joy. She was okay. She could protect herself now.

She was back to her old self.

"I sure am. Where were you? I was cold," she said with a whiny pout. It looked oddly in conflict with the way she was dressed.

"You poor baby," you teased. You sized her up, took in every inch of her. God, she was delectable. "You don't look cold now."

Agatha smirked. "You dig it?"

She knew you did.

"This a show for me?" you asked.

"Don't flatter yourself, honey. Fashion shows are beneath me." She shrugged dramatically. "I'm just enjoying having my power back."

Right. Sure. "It looks good on you."

"Everything looks good on me."

True.

"I'm glad you're okay," you said.

She beckoned you with a finger, and, as if under a spell, you went to her. You removed the coffee from her hands, putting it down on the coffee table, and leaned down to kiss her.

Her lips were warm. Inviting. Ravenous. She drank you in, pulled you closer. Devoured you like she devoured the power, the lifeline of all those witches.

Unlike them, you welcomed it. A willing victim. You craved it. Ached for it. Begged for more.

And more she gave.

Lowering yourself to her lap, you let her deepen the kiss. God, you missed this. Missed her.

These past few months were hell, and not just because of the guilt that was eating you alive. Not being around Agatha was killing you. Not feeling her touch, not having her mouth on yours, not smelling her hair or feeling the static of her magic on your skin…

You might as well have died.

And now you came back to life.

"So good to have you back," you said as you parted for air.

"So good to be back," Agatha said confidently. "Speaking of, what were you doing in the basement for so long?"

So much for the surprise. And here you thought you were being careful. "Did I wake you when I came back in?"

"No. I was already looking for you when I heard all the… whatever the hell that was."

Yeah. That. You were hoping she hadn't heard that little blunder.

"It was supposed to be a surprise."

Agatha raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"For when you wake up. A little get-well present. You need your purple to really enjoy it. I thought it'd be nice if you had something to look forward to while you heal."

A wide smile bloomed on her mouth. "Is that why you're covered in blood?"

Your shirt was all but soaked in it, the rusty color having taken over. You'd planned on trashing it and taking a shower before seeing Agatha, but, as always, plans were one thing, and reality was another.

"It's not mine," you clarified.

"I can see that," she said, a tad amused. "Whose is it?"

Though, by the look on her face, you could tell she already had a pretty good idea.

Another surprise spoiled.

"Those hunters aren't gonna be a problem for you anymore," you said.

Their screams still echoed in your head. Pleas for mercy, for forgiveness. Where was their mercy when they were torturing Agatha because she wouldn't betray you? Where was their mercy when they were kicking her, punching her, breaking her? Where was their mercy when she was begging for it?

Payback was a bitch, and so were you.

"Is that so?" Agatha asked.

A part of you expected her to be mad at you for taking the opportunity of revenge away from her, but she was taking it in stride. If anything, she seemed proud. Satisfied.

She approved.

Your heart warmed with relief.

"No one hurts my girl and gets away with it," you said, looking her straight in the eyes to drive the point clear. If it came to it, you would tear the world apart for her. Would set it on fire and watch it burn.

Agatha preened. She loved your protective side. "You took quite a risk," she chided, though it was all for show. She knew you could handle yourself. Your power was nowhere near her level, but you were far from a defenseless kitten.

"I sneaked up on them." That was the only way you could think of for them to have successfully injected her with the magic-blocking potion. So, why not return the favor? "Isn't that what they did to you?"

"Indeed, it is," she confirmed. "They're cowards."

"Now they're dead cowards."

Agatha grinned, then glared as you took a sip of her coffee. You ignored it, instead taking a few more sips, eyes never leaving hers.

As if she would ever do anything to hurt you. Someone else may lose their head — or hand, or mouth — for an infraction like this, but not you. You had the privilege of testing her limits and living to tell the tale.

If anything, you were doing it for the glare itself. It was adorable. She was adorable. Like a hissing kitten attempting to look tough, imposing, not realizing the act only made it cuter.

"Wanna see what I got you?"

Agatha's eyes lit up. You didn't even have to ask.

Taking hold of her hand, you led her to the basement. Your heart thumped loudly as you descended into the dark, dimly lit room, anticipating building, welling up like a geyser about to burst.

It's been a while since you treated the woman you loved to something nice.

She deserved a pick-me-up.

A form laid on the cold ground before you. The woman's hair was light; it used to be perfectly straight, but now it resembled a bird's nest, messy and unkempt. Courtesy of you. Bitchfights were, well, a bitch. Her clothes were tattered. A piece of fabric was wrapped tightly around her mouth; a makeshift gag you'd had to make out of a random shirt you'd found when you'd accosted her.

For a witch, she'd done lousy work on protecting her home. You'd blown through the door and walked straight in without a single obstacle.

She was more powerful than you, you could feel it, but you were on a revenge mission. She never stood a chance.

Apparently, she hated Agatha — and, by association, you — more than she hated witch hunters. "Something had to be done about that witch killer and her girl-toy," she'd spat like it was poison. That had earned her a punch to the face and a blast through the wall.

It wasn't like she was gonna get to go back to that house, anyway.

Her fate was sealed the moment she'd decided to help the hunters.

It was an enemy-of-my-enemy sort of deal. They would look the other way if they'd happened to spot her in exchange for her serving them the worst of the worst on a silver platter. They'd even get a two-for-the-price-of-one discount, with you thrown in as a bonus. Agatha's willing plaything, or so the witch bitch had described you as.

Look how that had turned out for them all.

You'd offered one of the hunters the same kind of deal: the witch's identity in exchange for his life.

And had promptly slit his throat as soon as the name had left his mouth.

You weren't in the business of making deals with people who'd brought harm to your beloved.

You'd ended up having to tie the witch up with bindings embedded with runes. The fighting was getting exhausting, and you were kinda in a rush; Agatha needed you home. So you'd pulled out your secret weapon that you'd brought along for this explicit purpose.

It was cheating of the worst kind, but this was war, and nothing was fair. If she'd wanted a fair fight, she wouldn't have banded together with a group that had been persecuting your kind for centuries in hopes that they would do her dirty work.

All things considered, things were going well.

There was a small hitch when you'd brought her home and had tried to get to the basement. She'd made a run for it, knocking down a vase that you'd never liked, anyway, which had made a loud noise that you were sure would wake Agatha, but you'd had the situation back under control rather quickly.

You'd drawn a circle around her, a barrier that ensured that she couldn't get away. Even if she were to break out of the runic bindings, her power wouldn't get her anywhere. It wouldn't do a single thing.

As long as she remained within the circle, she was yours — Agatha's, actually — to do with as you pleased.

The witch rose up to her knees as you and Agatha came into view. She stared up at you, defiant.

You knew she wouldn't stay that way for too long.

"She's all yours," you said.

Agatha was in awe, licking her lips as if she'd just smelled her favorite food, fresh and steaming on the platter in front of her. Cooling off just got her.

"You've outdone yourself, my love," she said, squeezing your hand to emphasize that she meant it. Every single word.

The praise was music to your ears. Your heart skipped a beat. "I'll leave you to it."

"You're not staying for the show?"

Was that disappointment in her tone?

"I had my fun with the hunters," you said. "Now it's your turn."

Fair was fair.

Agatha pouted, but gave a nod. "Why don't you prepare that bath you promised me? I'll have my fun, and then we can both relax."

The prospect was more than appealing. You could already imagine her naked body against yours, bursting with new magic, the static making you shiver and quiver in all the right places.

"Don't you want some more time with her?" you asked.

"Trust me, honey, it'll be more than enough," she said, lips curling into a wicked smirk. Her eyes flashed purple; a threat, a warning of unsavory things to come.

The witch flinched, terrified.

Good.

Now she knew how Agatha felt. Now she knew how you felt when the woman you loved more than life itself had shown up at your door, battered and broken.

Karma was a bitch.

You pecked Agatha on the cheek. "Have fun, sweetheart."

"Oh, I will," she purred in that delicious way that promised trouble, that promised mischief and mayhem.

She was going to enjoy this. More than she already was.

Throwing one final glance at the doomed witch, you went up the stairs, making sure to close the door behind you.

These weren't the kind of screams you were in the mood to listen to.

Even if Agatha was the one to cause them.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn @midnight-lestrange

[cyberteez]

bound in silk pt.2 - j.wy

pairing ⋆ afab!reader x j.wooyoung

genre ⋆ smut

wc ⋆ 1.4k

summary ⋆ after how well binding wooyoung went, he wants to give it a try on you.

warnings ⋆ mature, reader is bound throughout most of it, reader is gagged, wy masterbates, edging, teasing, pinv, unprotected sex, bratty reader, cum eating, vibrator(r receiving), can be read separately from pt 1

with hands bound in the pretty silk wooyoung bought earlier that day, you sit snug on the bed. while you had other silks, he wanted to see you in baby pink to match your flushed skin, scolding himself slightly for not doing it sooner.

sitting near the edge of the bed, just out of your reach, he strokes himself, gleefully smiling as your hungry eyes take him in.

his strokes are slow and methodical, touching all the right places so he lets out the tiniest moans. you see his cock twitch, signaling how close he is, but he edges himself, removing his grip and taking a few deep breaths.

"my pretty thing loves watching me play with myself, doesn't she?" he coos, voice slightly strained from his lack of climax.

a whine sounds from your throat, the lack of friction between your thighs unbearable, but you didn't want to verbalize your complaint, thinking he would get the hint.

he raises his hand to his ear, asking, "what did you say m'dear? i can't quite hear you. you have to speak up, you know."

you let out of breath of frustration but don't give in, not wanting him to bask the satisfaction of having all of the power. he doesn't like that one bit. wooyoung moves forward to lean on his arms, blowing cool air across your exposed stomach. the goosebumps that cover your arms and legs cause a hum to rumble from his chest, and your head drops back in an exasperated sigh, needy and ready for him. his next movements surprise you. dipping his hand over the edge of the bed, he brings back two objects: more silk and a bunny eared vibrator. it's slightly curved and elongated so part of it can rest on the inside of you while the other can massage your clit. you squirm as he attaches it to you, though he doesn't turn it on yet. with the other piece of silk, he ties a knot around your mouth, effectively gagging you and stopping any words from spilling forth.

"you have nothing to say at all? fine. have it your way,” he tuts.

wooyoung clicks on the vibrator, the toy humming to life within and on your body. he doesn't turn it to the highest setting... yet. instead, he leans back again and strokes himself, enjoying the view. sat between your legs so you can't close them, he touches his dick ever so lightly, tracing along the shaft before gripping it and pumping a few times. his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed, opening every so often to give you a heady staredown.

the constant thrumming of the toy is becoming unbearable, not enough to make you cum, but enough to make you feel it in your hips. he reaches forward and turns it up a notch, groaning softly when a moan escapes your tied mouth. you try to squirm, but his body keeping your legs open makes it difficult to move, and you still don't want to verbalize anything--not that you could if you wanted to. when he comes, it dribbles down his hand onto his thigh, and he lets out a loud moan of your name. at this point, you can feel yourself begin to reach your high, thighs shaking slightly. seeing you so close to coming undone, he switches off the vibrator and sits back, watching you squirm and make noises of protest. the hand covered in cum raises in your direction, his eyes shifting between the two. "hmm.. wouldn't you just look so pretty decorated in my cum..." you shake your head rapidly and he smirks.

"you don't want to look pretty? then I guess you'll just have to have a taste...unless you'd like to say otherwise?"

you wish you hadn't started the silent game, but you don't want to give in just yet, opting to let him take his turn. wooyoung tugs on the silk tie, which easily comes undone, pressing his hands to your lips. holding your chin with his free hand, he forces you to look at him while you lap at his cum. “my love is so good isn't she? use your words, love.” he rubs your chin, smiling softly.

when you remain silent, his smile drops, shifting back on the bed after retying the silk gag. he turns the vibrator on and watches you again, a dark look in his eye. you can tell his patience is wearing thin. it sends powerful vibrations through various places on your lower body, it reaching your lower ribs. your squirms increase, and you try to close your legs from the stimulation, but his hands wrap around your knees in a tight grip, keeping your legs pried open. a whine falls from your gagged mouth, but he does nothing. you can feel yourself catapulting towards your climax, shaking in your legs carrying up through your thighs into a chattering in your jaw. right before you fully.tip over the edge, wooyoung yanka the toy from your pussy, effectively ruining your orgasm once again. tremors in your body continue after the fact, your skin buzzing with what could have been. tears pool in your eyes and threaten to fall as you fight to keep the sensation of your impending climax but fail. when wooyoung’s sure you’ve calmed down, he does the same thing again. and again. and again. after edging you nearly five times, you’re crying and thrashing in his grip, practically begging for release.

the silk is removed from your mouth, and a sob escapes your lips. wooyoung gently wipes away the tears and cups your face. “you want to come don’t you? beg.”

at this point you’ve had enough and you nod, another sob escaping your lips as you silently beg him to let you cum.

“I said use your words, love,” he adds the love at the end to soften his harsh words.

“please, please let me cum,” you mewl, eyes pleading.

he remains silent for a few moments, shaking his head lightly. another cry and more quiet pleas spill from your mouth, jaw rattling from the onslaught of emotions.

he smiles and reaches up to untie your hands, humming to himself. “good girl.”

he easily lines his cock at your entrance, his tip ghosting through your folds before he thrusts inside in one push.

“god you’re so wet, you feel amazing,” he praises in your ear, setting a steady but deadly pace. his hands are digging into your hips as he fucks you fast, your arms grappling at and around his shoulders. kisses and marks are littered along your neck and collar bones, but you’re not paying attention as your need has blinded anything but the feeling of your climax. he snaps his hips, repeatedly hitting the spongy spot that makes you see white and immediately cum. your senses are on overload and you’re screaming his name through the waves of pleasure coursing through you. your ears begin to ring, and your vision momentarily becomes fuzzy as all your senses dull in comparison to your orgasm.

he’s following with his own whine of your name soon after. heavy breathing is the only thing heard in the room. exhaustion from both parties is clear, but he knows you probably can’t feel your legs from his work. the edging has left you breathless and jelly-like, and as you come down from the euphoria, you can start to feel the bruises forming on your hips and the marks sting around your neck. soreness seeps into your arms and wrists from being bound, but you use what remaining strength you have left to playfully slap your partner's shoulder as you giggle out a: “what the fuck wooyoung.”

he smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “you haven’t asked for anything lately, I wanted to know what you wanted.”

you hum and turn your head to stare at the ceiling. “you have to carry me to the bath.”

“I figured.”

you hear him shift on the bed and get up, leaving the room to the bathroom. quiet footsteps on the tile lead from the bathroom door to the tub, a soft squeaking resonating from one room to the other as the faucet turns on and water spills forth. he returns a few minutes later, hands coming under your legs and upper back.

“come on, love, let’s get you cleaned up.”

© cyberteez 2024

[pinkjoy-cons]

Bump In The Night

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑶𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝑨𝑭𝑨𝑩!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕)⋆ ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

Word Count: 1539

I was possessed by a demon to write this. Idk what happened. Ororon by boy, I'm sorry I made you a bottom in this.

Translations and warnings under the cut. MDNI. Please do not translate, narrate, copy, or recommend on TikTok

Warnings: sub!Character, service top!Reader (I think???), afab, no pronouns used (please let me know if i added one on accident), no descriptive feature, reader does have hair that can be grabbed, cowgirl position, overstimulation (male receiving), teasing, praise, reader speaks Spanish a little (my Mexican ancestors looking down at me with shame), vocal male character, tit sucking, exaggeration of sexual activities, kinda rough, begging, blowjob, slight hand job, brief cock-warming, light aftercare, cuddling, not edited in the slightest I wrote this in like 3 hours. Let me know if I missed anything.

Muñeco - Doll Mi Cariño - My Dear Verdad - Literally it means "truth" but in this context I'm using it to mean "right" Ya no más - Okay/alright no more Pobre pájaro - Poor bird Ay, que chulo - Oh, how cute

“It’s alright baby. I know you can handle it.” You encouraged Ororon as you continued to bounce on his dick. Despite it being late at night Ororon couldn’t help himself. You were sound asleep when you were woken up with the feeling of him rubbing himself against your ass. All he could do was mutter a small sorry…please? And how could you resist when he asked so nicely.

You held both of his hands as you continued to work his cock in and out of you. He craved touch at all times while being intimate and you were more than happy to fulfill that. “You’re doing so well for me muñeco.” On a particularly intense bounce you decided to come down with a bit more force and grind your clit into his pubic bone. The sensation nearly took his breath away and he let go of your hands to hold onto your hips; encouraging you to press into him more. A pathetic moan escaped his lips. He tried to use the back of his hand to cover his mouth and shut his eyes but you stopped him. His pupils were dilated as you forced Ororon to look at you. 

“What are you doing, ¿mi cariño?” You brushed his face, redder than blood that ran through your veins. “You know how much I love to see your eyes. You always did have such beautiful eyes.” You hopped again ever so slightly and Ororon tried to meet you with a thrust of his hips. “And your sounds,” You continued and caressed his face. Light touches against his warm skin. The drag of your fingers nearly caused him to close his eyes but he fought the urge as he chased your touch, desperate for more. “You know how much I love to hear you, ¿verdad?” You moved your hand to his mouth and pushed your thumb past his lips. Immediately, he began to suck on your thumb. You still kept up with the slow yet consistent rock of your hips but now and then would rock harder. That caused him to whine while he sucked your thumb. There was a pleading look in his eyes and Ororon knew you were waiting for his answer.

When he was finally ready to speak, you removed your thumb, “I…I just…” His face turned a deeper shade of red as “What if someone hears me?” You stopped and chuckled.

“Your house is on the furthest outskirts of the tribe and it’s the middle of the night. Who is going to hear you Ororon?” That didn’t seem to help as he turned his head away out of embarrassment. He knew you liked him loud when he could be but the idea of someone hearing him made him want to bury himself where his plants grew. You regarded Ororon for a moment – his lips plump and red from him trying to hold back, eyes practically fucked out from you movements, and his chest was heavy from his breaths – ever so slightly you could feel him twitch against your walls. His hands moved to your hips and squeezed, most likely impatient from just having you warm his cock this entire time. Your hand moved to play with his right ear. You scratched and rubbed the fur gently. He closed his eyes and let out a few whimpers and shallow breaths.

Finally, you made an effort to let out a dramatic sigh, “You’re right, someone might hear you. We should just stop.” 

“What!” Ororon snapped to attention and supported himself on his arms to sit up. “W-what do you mean stop?”

“Well, you said someone might hear us so we should just stop, right? And it’s late so we should just get some sleep at this point.” You pushed him down and used his chest to leverage yourself off his dick. As you raised yourself up, Ororon nearly lifted his hips to chase after you.

“No-ho-ooo. Don’t!” He used all his strength to hold you in place; hands gripping your hips. Your pussy was just about to come off the tip. 

“What’s wrong?” You teased him and lowered yourself close to his ears. “Didn’t you want me to stop?” Your hips moved on their own accord, just catching on his mushroom tip, in and out, in and out. It took everything in your power to not slam back down on him and Ororon moaned into your ear. “If you truly want me to stop, tell me. And I will stop.” 

Ororon cried out. “No! Don’t stop! Keep going. I-I’ll be loud! I’ll be as loud as you want just please. Fuck me! Make me come, please!” You slammed back down and you both moaned at the sudden movement. 

A small laugh and a good boy to his ear was all the warning Ororon got before you went to work on his aching cock and your pulsing pussy. Ororon said he would be loud and, bless this man, he came through. Mixed with the sound of skin against skin you could hear every moan, sob, and whimper he could come up with. A few times he would beg for you to go faster or slower. During one of your slower moments he wrapped around your back to bring your chest closer. He met you halfway and brought one nipple into his mouth and cried against your pearled bud. He looked so sweet sucking against you that you cooed encouraging words to him and played with his hair. 

When he was done with one he switched to the other and you moaned. He felt your pussy flutter and sucked harder like he was a man starving, determined to make you feel as good as he felt. Pobre pájaro, little did he know you were feeling just as good as he was if not more. As he sucked Ororon looked up and you nearly came at the sight. You pulled him off you and pushed him back down. His fucked out face and labored breathing was truly one of the many wonders of this world. 

“Ya no más.” Your index finger lifted his chin ever so slightly, “Still with me?” He nodded. You smiled and continued. You both whined out into the night. At one point Ororon moved your hand to his throat and you squeezed just enough. It was all he needed to cry out and come right into your aching pussy. With one final buck you finally came too. 

You fell atop him and you both caught your breaths. Neither spoke or moved. When it was finally time for you to get up, you did it carefully. You both hissed at the movement from your activities. Once fully released, you spread your pussy just so and let the cum fall onto his cock. 

You settled between his legs and waited. Your finger and thumb rubbing up and down his half hard dick. You looked up at him expectantly.

“C-can you-” He trailed off and looked away, you let it slide this time. Ororon brought the back of his hand to his mouth. “Can you please, clean me off?” He glanced at you over his hand as he sat up to get a better view. 

A chuckle left your lips. “Ay, que chulo.” You went down to clean his dick of your combined orgasms. Tongue and throat worked in tandem to get every last drop of your night together. Ororon gripped the sheets below him and his back arched from the over stimulation. Despite having just finished you felt the tell-tale signs of his orgasm again. You took him deeper into your throat and cupped his balls. Ororon bucked into you and called out wait. He shot up and held you down on his dick as he curled in on himself with a vice grip on your hair. He cried and a few tears fell from his eyes as he came again into your mouth. He caught his breath and you sucked in as you released yourself from him to make sure you got it all. Now, he was truly spent. He laid flat on the bed while you got a washcloth from the night stand and did you best to clean you both up. You kissed his salty tears away and met your lips with his. Ororon was so loving in what he did that each kiss you shared was as passionate as the last. As you held his face, he leaned into your touch with a sigh of content. You dabbed at his chest and forehead and gently around his dick and pubic area. 

“Hmm…” You began to yourself. “Let me get you a warm washcloth instead.” He whined at your statement and grabbed you to bring you closer to his chest. 

“Stay here. Please.”

“Are you sure? We just-“Yes.” He held you tighter. “Just stay here. Play with my hair.” And just like that he was out like a light. You laughed against his skin and did your best to get comfortable as your hand found its way into his beautiful locks. You know the sun would rise in just a few hours so you did your best to savor the last few moments of rest with him.

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 3)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 2

“But if you call for me, you know I’ll run, I’ll run to you.” - Lana Del Rey

“[Name]! Get under this shower,” Sevika says, pushing my head under the freezing water.

“No! Let go of me!” I yell, sluggish and still drunk from all the alcohol I consumed.

I struggle to escape the icy water, but Sevika holds me firmly in place. After a while, I grow tired and stop resisting.

I just sit on the floor, letting the water cascade over me.

That cold water was actually calming me down. It cooled my once hot, sweaty skin.

My thoughts began to wander. Why was I like this?

I was at the bar drinking because of… Vi.

“Damn it!” I yell, pulling at my hair. “Why the hell can’t I forget her?”

I feel the water stop and a towel land on my wet hair.

“Dry yourself off. I’ll grab you some water,” Sevika says, leaving me sitting on the floor.

I stand up, remove my soaked clothes, wrap the towel around myself, and head to my room.

“Sevika told me what happened,” Jinx says, sitting on my bed with her knees to her chest.

I sigh, thinking about how hard this must be for her.

“I thought I saw her…” I whisper, embarrassed.

“[Name], Vi is dead!” she says, visibly agitated.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

“I know,” I mutter, heading toward the chest where I keep my clothes.

“You’re more insane than I am,” she sighs, lying back on the bed. “I don’t imagine anyone who’s dead… well, only sometimes. But I can separate reality from imagination.”

“Of course you can, Jinx,” I say sarcastically.

I get dressed and lie down beside her.

“We don’t need her,” she says angrily, sitting up. “We have each other.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I say, sitting up as well. “It’s just that…”

“You loved her,” she interrupts.

“Yeah. I did…”

“Once, I talked to Vander about you two…”

“About us?”

“I was afraid that if you two got together, you’d abandon me,” she says, lowering her head.

“We would never do that, Jinx. I would never do that. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know… I know I never said it, but thank you… for not leaving me,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You’ll always be my little sister,” I say, throwing myself on top of her, hugging her tightly. Slowly, she hugs me back.

“Here’s your water,” Sevika suddenly appears, startling us.

“Get off me!” Jinx shoves me, trying to hide her vulnerability from Sevika.

I laugh at Jinx and stand up.

“Thanks!” I say, grabbing the water and placing it on a nearby table.

“You’re losing your mind, [Name],” Silco’s voice is full of disapproval.

I sigh, spinning around in his chair.

“It won’t happen again,” I stop, facing away from the desk.

“I hope not. You can’t fall apart every time you see someone who reminds you of her,” he says, moving closer.

“I know. It’s just… it felt so real,” I say, closing my eyes. “I think because I never saw her body, my mind clings to the hope that she’s alive.”

“You need to accept that she’s gone,” he says, appearing in my line of sight. “This isn’t good for you, and it’s certainly not good for Jinx. You know she feels guilty about their deaths.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Her sister is back!” Sevika bursts into the room, excited, her robotic arm leaking purple liquid. I turn the chair to face her, and she freezes when she sees me.

“Whose sister?” I ask hesitantly.

“No one’s,” Silco quickly dismisses, stepping away from the chair and giving Sevika a stern look.

Sevika’s breathing quickens, her gaze fixed on me.

“Sevika…” I plead.

“You don’t know her,” she finally looks away.

“Of course not,” I say, getting up from the chair and storming toward the door.

Just as I reach for the handle, I feel a sharp sting in my neck.

“What the hell…” I manage to say before my legs give out and my vision goes dark. My body collapses against Sevika before everything fades to black.

I wake up startled in my room, drenched in sweat, my throat dry. I drag myself to the bedside table where Sevika had left the water and drink it all in one gulp.

Setting the glass down, I notice a photo. The same one I found in Vander’s bar on the day of the accident.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling my head throb. With effort, I get up and head to Silco’s office.

“Silco!” I burst through the door.

But I only find Sevika tied up on the floor, her body and clothes marked with symbols and the word “LIAR” written in pink and blue.

Jinx…

I run through the streets of Zaun, trying to find her.

She knew something. She found out something. I had an idea of what it was, but I didn’t want to give myself false hope.

Could there be a chance she’s alive? I never saw the body, but Jinx swore she did. She guaranteed her sister was dead.

What the hell are they hiding from me?

Out of breath, I stop in an alley. Then I hear a child speaking to the woman holding her hand.

“Mommy, what’s that?” I see the child pointing to the top of a building where a large blue cloud hovers.

What the hell are you doing, Jinx?

I run toward the building as if my life depends on it.

Reaching the top, I see her holding a flare aloft.

“Jinx, what are you doing?” I whisper, sobbing as I approach.

“Liar!” she yells, throwing the flare to the ground.

“Please, Jinx,” I say, moving closer. “Tell me the truth!” She then turns to me, running into my arms and burying her face in my neck.

“We don’t need her,” I hear her muffled voice say.

My mind is in chaos.

“Her who?” I ask, terrified of the answer.

“Powder?” My body freezes. Jinx lifts her head, her body trembling. She stares at the person behind us for a moment before pulling away.

I stay where I am, my back to the voice.

“I swear I tried to come back to you, but they kept me locked up,” I hear that same voice from my delusions.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

She’s dead.

I close my eyes, waiting for Vi’s voice to fade away.

“Marcus?” Jinx asks.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m back. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Vi…” I hear Jinx say, then footsteps approaching.

Jinx steps in front of me.

“[Name]…” I look into her tear-filled eyes.

In that moment, a flood of emotions washes over me: fear, insecurity, anger.

I felt betrayed. Betrayed by everyone I trusted.

“[Name]?” the voice calls.

No. Please, no. This isn’t real.

Then she steps in front of me, beside Jinx.

The face that has haunted me for years, but now it’s different. Her once youthful face is now longer and more mature. Her eyes are still grayish-blue, with faint freckles beneath them. A scar crosses her lips, and “VI” is tattooed on her cheek.

Despite all the changes, she’s still Vi.

My Vi.

I dreamed of this moment every day.

So why don’t I feel happy? The burning sting of betrayal consumes me.

I trusted them. I trusted her.

I look at Jinx, whose expression is filled with regret and sorrow.

“You lied…” I say to Jinx. “You lied to me. After everything!”

I take steps back, distancing myself from the sisters.

“I just wanted to protect you,” Jinx says, moving closer.

“Protect me? By lying to me?”

“I thought she had abandoned us,” she cries. “So I thought hiding it would keep you from suffering, thinking she left us. Forgive me, [Name], please,” she begs.

“[Name],” Vi speaks now. “Powder did what she thought was best. I’m glad you two looked out for each other.”

But I couldn’t hear anything over my own pain.

“I need to be alone,” I say, turning around only to face another woman. Her clean clothes and hair screamed that she wasn’t from here.

“Is Jinx your sister?” she asks.

“Who is she?” Jinx and I say simultaneously.

“This is Caitlyn, a friend. She got me out of prison,” Vi explains, standing beside Caitlyn.

“So it’s true,” I turn to Jinx in confusion as she aims her weapon at the woman. “Sevika didn’t lie? You’re working with an enforcer?”

“What?” I look at the pink-haired girl in disbelief, joining Jinx and pointing my own weapon at the enforcer.

“It’s not what you think…” Vi tries to keep things calm.

“This is an ambush. They came to kill us,” Jinx says, agitated, her eyes burning with paranoia.“Shut up!”

“We didn’t say anything,” the enforcer replies.

“I’m not talking to you!” Jinx retorts.

“Powpow, it’s okay,” Vi tries to calm her sister.

Bad idea.

“Don’t call me that. My name is Jinx now.”

“No. You’re not a Jinx.”

“I’ve changed, sister. We’ve changed,” her gaze shifts to me.

“I know. We’ve all changed,” she moves closer. “But it’s okay now. I’m back for both of you. Let’s start over… together. Just the three of us.”

“Shut up! I need to think,” Jinx pulls away, her eyes closed.

“Jinx…” I try to get her attention before she does something reckless.

“Did you hear that?” she suddenly points her weapon upwards.

Then I see the Firelights approaching, flying around us.

“Wait! Don’t shoot!” I shout, stepping forward.

But it’s too late.

Jinx fires wildly, while Vi fights them off.

I crouch down and notice the enforcer looking at something on the ground. Following her gaze, I see a blue sphere Jinx uses in her bombs and weapons.

I rush forward, grabbing the sphere before she can and shoving it into my pocket.

“Not today, enforcer,” I smirk defiantly.

I didn’t like her.

“You don’t understand!” she yells.

“I don’t understand? You’re the one who doesn’t understand,” I kick her backward.

Then I run, jumping off the building and being caught by one of the Firelights.

“It’s Vi. She’s not dead,” I shout amidst the chaos.

“What?” he speaks, his voice distorted by some device.

But I didn’t have time to explain. I grab a bomb from his belt and jump back onto the building.

I see one of the Firelights pointing a stake at Vi, who’s lying on the ground. I rush to stop him:

“I’ll take care of her.”

Then I throw the smoke bomb to the ground, shrouding everything in black mist.

“Don’t worry, Vi,” I whisper in her ear and inject a syringe into her neck. She looks at me, surprised, before her body goes limp. I hold her and signal to the Firelight. “Take her to safety.”

He takes her, and as the mist begins to clear, it’s just me and Jinx left in the building.

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 10

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: MDNI!! slight dubcon, hate sex (unprotected, dont be silly, wrap ur willy), rough, degrading, no aftercare, mean!joel, possessive!joel, crying after sex, overstim, drunk dom joel, alcohol consumption, cheater cheater pumpkin eater joel, please let me know if i forgot something.

Summary: Thanksgiving at the Millers was supposed to be an easy-going afternoon. Shit goes South very quickly once Joels girlfriend opens her mouth. After the tenseness of the evening, Joel decides its time to set things straight. (3.4k+)

a/n: im so scared. this is the craziest and longest shit i have ever written but i LOVE it. i hope you all love it as much as i do. <3 i welcome any and all feedback, it keeps me writing :3 xoxox

Chapter 9 - Chapter 11 (coming soon) - Masterlist

You walk up to the door and debate on just walking it. You decide against it considering the circumstances. You knock lightly and after a few seconds, Tommy opens the door. “Hey pretty girl.” He says. You notice his eye, swollen and bruised. You give him a “what the fuck happened?” look and open your mouth to actually ask, but he shakes his head no before the words come out. You nod in understanding and head to the kitchen. Sarah is on the couch watching TV, and Joel is out back with the smoker. You set the casserole dish on the island and say hi to Sarah. She waves but is very invested in the latest episode of Hannah Montana. You walk over to the fridge and grab a beer, popping the cap over the sink. You look out the window and your eyes meet Joels. His facial expression and eyes say so much, but nothing at all. You miss looking into them. You smile and wave but he looks back down. You turn around, chuckling. “This afternoon is gonna be fucking great.” you say to yourself, shaking your head and taking a large gulp of your drink. Tommy comes into the kitchen and you stare at his eye. Wondering if that happened once he got home yesterday. Wondering if that happened because of you. “Tommy?” you say quietly. “Hm?” he looks up at you. “What happened?” you say, rubbing his face gently. “Nothing you need to be concerned about sweetheart. I promise Im alright.” he says, smiling. You hear the patio door slide open and quickly remove your hand from Tommys face, you fear what would happen to him if Joel saw. “Don't stop on account of me.” he grunts, staring through you. 

“Foods done. Sarah, set the table. Theres five of us.” “Five?” you say, louder than you mean to. “Did I stutter? Five. You, Tommy, Sarah, Me, and Celeste.” You stomach churns. “Excuse me.” You whisper, tears falling from your eyes. You run to the bathroom, anticipating the churning in your stomach to turn into actual vomit. This time, no one chases you. You hear Sarah setting the table, Tommy helping her, and Joel answering the door. Then you hear her. Celeste. “Hi sweetie! Im Celeste. You must be Sarah. Im a friend of your dads.” she says. You wanted so badly for her voice to be anything but what it was. Its smooth like honey, and her accent is the same as Joel and Tommys. Southern with a touch of twang. You grab a tissue to dab your makeup. Trying to fix the smudging from your obvious crying. Once you feel that you’re as put together as you can be, you exit. Today, Celestes hair is long and straight. Shes wearing a cream cashmere sweater, black leather leggings, and oxblood colored flats. You plaster a smile on your face and walk toward her, you open your mouth to speak but she beats you to it. “Hi, Im Celeste. You must be Tommys new girlfriend.” she spits, her eyes cutting daggers at you. You look at Sarah, who thank god isnt paying attention. “Well, n-” and Tommy interrupts you “Yes! This is her!”. If looks could kill, Joel would have Tommy dead six ways to Sunday. She rolls her eyes, walking away without saying anything else. “Fuckin’ nice one, Joel. Shes a fuckin keeper.” you mutter in his direction. 

 Tommy grabs your hand and leads you to your chair, pulling it out for you. Him and Joel lay the food across the table in various spots. Sarah says the blessing and you begin passing the dishes around. Celeste laughs at just about everything Joel says, and its kind of annoying because half the shit he’s saying isn't even funny. Tommy can see your face growing with annoyance and disgust. His hand grabs your thigh under the table, a thumb going back and forth. 

The rest of dinner goes about as well as it can. Tommys hand occasionally brushing your thigh. You squeeze his a couple times to keep yourself from flipping the goddamn dinner table. Sarah gets up to get her pajamas on, and suitcase packed for the long weekend at her moms. You stand up and begin collecting plates while the boys talk. Celeste holds hers over her shoulder, still laughing at every little thing Joel says. You roll your eyes in Tommys direction and he stifles a laugh. 

Eventually, Sarahs mom arrives and you walk out with everyone to say goodbye. Funny, you notice Celeste doesn't join you all; remembering her scuffle with Sarahs mom. Sarah gives you a big hug around the neck, and whispers in your ear “I don’t like that woman. Don't let my dad keep her here.” She says, her eyes bigger than the sun. You hug her back, telling her to have fun at her moms. Tommy and Joel both give her a kiss on the head and tuck her into the car. You all wave goodbye and head toward the house. You lead, Tommys hand guiding you on your lower back, Joel in the very back, breathing so heavy that if you didn’t know better, you’d think something was wrong. But you know it’s Tommy. He’s pushing him to his breaking point, and his breaking point is you. Once back inside, you pour yourself a glass of wine. You’ve lost count on what number this is. You know you had 3 beers but the wine went down like water during dinner and desert. 

The hours pass and you've played a couple card games, trying not to focus on the way Celeste grabs Joels biceps. The way she allows her head to fall on him when she laughs. You finish your umpteenth glass of wine and excuse yourself. You walk down the hall until you find the spare room. You shut the door and turn the light on, sitting on the bed. Trying not to freak out. You cant read Joel. He used to be so easy to read, his facial expressions like an open book. The creases around his eyes told you how his day was, his eyes told you what he wanted, his lips saying what he needed. But for weeks they’ve given you nothing. The door opening snaps you out of your trance. “If you wanted me again, you could’ve just invited me over.” Tommy says laughing, shutting the door behind him. “Tommy, shut up.” You say, hitting him on the arm. “Hey hey, I already got my ass whooped once in the last 2 days, Id rather it not happen again.” He sits beside you, the bed creaking with every movement. “Tommy,” you start “I thought you said she wasn’t coming.” he sighs. “She wasn’t s’posed to. Joel told me weeks ago that he was breakin’ things off. I guess he never did. I didn’t know. Maria and I broke up and I hadn’t seen her here so I just assumed he’d done it.” You look him in the eyes. “Im sorry about you and Maria. It hadn’t even crossed my mind yesterday.” you look at the ground, your feet swinging from the bed. “Nothin’ you coulda done. She broke it off for some schmuck she met on business in Dallas. Not sure why Celeste is makin’ me out to be the bad guy.” he retorts. You both laugh for a second. Unsure of where to go from here. You don’t want to go back out there, but you don’t want to be alone. The thought of asking Tommy to go home with you pops into your head but after yesterday, thats probably the worst idea you’ve ever had. As if he can read your mind, he stands, reaching for your hand. “M’lady” he says, kissing the back of your hand. You laugh, opening the door “Shut the hell up Tommy”. 

You both walk back down the hall to find Celeste and Joel watching a movie. Shes kissing his neck, and he looks every bit of uninterested. When you kissed his neck, he returned the favor 10 fold. He couldn’t keep his hands off you. You head to the kitchen and her head perks up at the sound of the fridge opening. “It’s about time you came back out” she starts “and what a rude thing to do in someone elses home.” she says, looking you up and down. Now, usually, you’d just let it roll off your back. But after the last 3 weeks, after today, you dont have the patience. “Im not sure what you’re insinuating, but Tommy and I are just friends. We were just talking. Nothing more.” You say, popping the top off another beer. Joel stifles a laugh. “Something you’d like to add, Joel?” you say, waiting for a grunt since thats the only language he seems to speak around you these days. “Nah, nothin to say to you.” he hisses. You laugh. It’s truly comical how hes acting. He gave Tommy a shiner for assumingly fucking you, but she speaks to you like that and he seems to forget how to be a halfway decent human. 

The air in the house is thick with tension, you’re suffocating. You decide this is your last beer, and then you’re going home. You have one foot out the patio door before you hear the words “But what do you expect from someone that sluts around like that?” You see red. You’ve had way too much to drink, but just enough to speak up for yourself. You don’t give either man a chance to say anything, not that you were banking on Joel doing it regardless. Spinning around and shutting her up in her tracks. “I’m not sure who the FUCK you think you are, but you are not going to speak to me, or about me like that.” you scream. She laughs in your face. “Baby I’m just telling it how it is. You can’t honestly expect anything else when you’re homie hopping two brothers” she says laughing. Tommy and Joel both look absolutely mortified. Joel’s mouth opens but you stop him. “Don’t. You obviously haven’t come to my defense the last few weeks, hell you cant even bother to fucking look at me, so I dont want to hear anything from you.” You turn back to Celeste, your entire body shaking, tears on the brink of starting a tsunami from your eyes. “What the fuck are you even talking about?” you take another step toward her. She stands from the couch. “I’m talking about how you can’t decide which Miller brother you’d rather have in your bed. I mean it’s obvious.” she pauses, and then laughs “Is it like split custody? Like do you have Tommy one week, and Joel the next? I mean, obviously not anymore, but how did you think that was going to play out? Did you even-” you drop you beer bottle onto Joel's floor, it shatters upon impact. The floor now littered with cheap ale and glass shards. “Thanks for dinner Joel, but fuck you. And fuck your piece of work girlfriend too.” you hiss, kicking glass out of your way and walking out the door. 

You stumble in your front door, slamming it behind you. You cry, harder than you’ve ever cried before. It’s hard to catch your breath. You feel like your heart has been ripped from your chest, and then stomped on. You call Penny but it goes right to voicemail. Unsure of what to do next, you do nothing. You sit in the dark, and let your sadness swallow you whole. Your tears soak the couch cushion but you’re too sad, and too drunk to care. 

You have no idea what time it is, but wake up to a consistent banging on your front door, along with your phone ringing. You stand up and your head is screaming, pleading for you to lay back down. You pick up your phone first. It’s Joel. “Hello?” “Open your fuckin door.” he says, hanging up right after. You stumble to the door, opening it. He pushes past you, slamming it behind him. He reeks of alcohol. “I don’t know what the hell you thought was going on at dinner, but that shit ends NOW.” You turn the lamp on, rubbing your eyes. “Joel, its late. Why are you here? And what the actual fuck are you-” and his lips are crashing into yours. You push him away from you. “I don’t know what you think this is, but you have a fucking girlfriend. A very hot, girlfriend. A girlfriend that you let speak so rudely to me earlier. A girlfriend that-” and his finger is in front of your mouth, shushing you. “My turn. Understand?” you laugh. “Joel, this isn’t a fucking game. You aren’t allowed to speak to me like that, and honestly, you aren’t allowed to speak to me for the foreseeable future.” His eyes are dark, but not in the warm doe-eyed way. They’re like a bottomless well. They’re full of anger, or sadness, or maybe both. You genuinely cant tell, but it doesn't stop you. “I don’t know what gets you off, but inviting me to Thanksgiving, knowing your fucking girlfriend is going to be there? I mean, honestly. And then to tell her I fucked both you and Tommy? Which never happened might I add. You really need to consider- “I know what I saw, what I heard.” you scoff at him. “What did you see Joel? Please enlighten me.” He takes a step toward you. “I saw my brother fixin’ his goddamn belt in your living room. I saw your bra on the floor. I saw that same disheveled look on your face that you had in my bed.” You sigh, not sure if from exhaustion, frustration, or both. His words are slurring, and you’re becoming increasingly worried. “You want to know what you saw, Joel? You saw me in an emotional and vulnerable place. You saw me after your brother fingered me. No parts entered any others with the exception of his goddamn fingers. You saw me coping with your actions.” your voice cracking. “So out of all people, you go to my fuckin’ brother?” You look at him, your eyes burning, your tear ducts working goddamn overtime. “Your brother came to me. He came to check on me, after you decided to treat me like I was invisible. For weeks, you wouldn’t even look at me. And the one time you did, it was to ask for shampoo for your fucking date.” He looks at you, his face finally showing an emotion other than nothing. You pick up your phone. “Joel, get out. Please.” you finally say. “I don't have the energy to deal with this anymore. To deal with you anymore.” He tilts his head, laughing. 

He slings you over his shoulder, stomping into your room. He kicks his boots off and throws you on the bed. You scurry to turn the light on, unsure of whats coming. The light is on and you turn to look at him. But he isn’t there. He is, but isn’t. His eyes don’t look like him, they aren’t soft and warm like honey in mid-summer. They’re black, his pupils blown so big you question if he’s on something. His body is reeking of desperation, but his actions are scaring you. “Up.” he says, his voice bellowing through your room. You flip your phone open, trying to find Tommy’s name, because Joel is obviously drunk, and you don’t have the patience for him, or drunk him. He grabs your phone from you and drops it off the bed. “I said up.” he says in your ear, nipping your neck in the process. And your body does something funny. You get the butterflies, the good ones; and theres a wet spot in your underwear. You whimper. “There’s my good girl.” he grunts, his eyes still black. You open your mouth to speak, but he covers it with his hand. “No more talkin’”. The next 15 minutes happen so quickly, but so slowly. He rips your shirt off of you, the fabric tearing down the middle. Your pants fly off, underwear going with them. He flips you on your stomach, “All fours, now.” he says. You quickly roll over and arch your back, spreading your legs far enough apart so that he can see your frothing pussy. You quickly realize that no matter how much you hate him right now, you’re also aching for him. You hear his belt come undone, and his pants hit the floor. He slaps your ass, hard. You squeal in both pleasure and pain. “That’s for fuckin’ my brother.” He slaps it again. “And that’s for fuckin’ avoidin’ me the last 3 weeks.” You stifle another squeal, preparing for a 3rd slap. He reaches under you, his thumb circling your clit and his fingers hitting all the right spots inside you. You moan, and it doesn’t take long for your body to twitch. You’re on the verge of coming undone, and he can tell. His pace picks up. “P-p-please Joel. N-n-need you.” you stutter. He laughs, yanking his hand away. Leaving you feeling so fucking empty. You turn your head to him and scream in agony. “Didn’t I say no fuckin talkin?” he says, spit hitting your nose. “For once, this ain't about you. Now turn around, and do what I say.” he says, angrily.

You can feel tears welling in your eyes, confident they’re from how overstimulated you are. He’s leaving bite marks down your back, naming each reason. “This ones for fuckin my brother” and he bites hard for that one. “I told you, I didn’t fuck Tommy. He fucked me.”  you say, immediately realizing your mistake. Another slap to the ass echos through the room. “I said stop fuckin’ talkin’.” His breathing is heavy and rugged. The bites end and theres a second of relief. Of no pain or pleasure, of just pure bliss. You bask in the moment. Trying to come down from the adrenaline rush you’ve been on for the last 12 hours. The silence is ruined by his cock stabbing its way through every inch of you. You scream in agony as he splits you in 2 with no warning. His pace quickening and your release on the horizon. “Did my brother fuck you this good?” his pace quickening “Did he make you scream like this?” he says, not letting up. You’re quick to remember what happened last time you spoke, and choose to ignore the question. You can hear the sound of his balls slapping you, the sound of your juices combining. You moan, gutturally. And he fucking pulls out, completely out. You turn to look at him and he grabs your face “Answer the goddamn question.” he spits. You’re mortified. “No.” you say quietly. He drops your face and throws himself back into you. “Speak up.” he grunts. “N-No J-J-Joel!” You scream. You’re drowning in the ecstasy of the moment, your head barely above water. He lets out a chuckle, saying nothing else. His pace quickens again and your body tenses up. You reach to pleasure yourself, your fingers landing in exactly the right places. “I done told you, this ain't about you.” he says, swatting your hand away. You cry out in agony, begging for your own release. “Please Joel, please let me-” and before you can finish your sentence, he’s flipped you around and his cock is filling your throat. “Im tired of listenin’ to that mouth.” His hands wrapped in your hair, pushing your head down his full length. His pace picks up and you gag. “That mouth is only good enough for my fuckin’ cock.” he moans. Tears are falling from your face, gags escaping your throat. You feel him twitch, and then a warmth in your throat. His pace slows, and he moans.

He pulls out and you wail, tears still falling from your eyes. “Don’t fuckin forget who you belong to.” He turns around and begins putting his pants on, the sound of his belt buckle echoing through your ears. “J-Joel?” you say, with no response. He pulls his shirt over his head and grabs his boots off the floor. “Joel, where are you going?” you say, sitting up, coving yourself with the comforter. He’s halfway down the hall before he turns around, his eyes back to the soft honey brown. “Joel, please.” you squeak out. But he keeps going, and you hear your front door close. You do the only thing that you seem to know how to these days, and cry.

[anthurak]

So here’s something interesting that just occurred to me:

I wonder if Andrealphus suffers from classic villainous ‘complexity addiction’, and if that might end up leading to his downfall?

Because when you think about it, Andre’s big scheme this episode to take Stolas’s power feels quite a bit MORE complicated than it probably needed to be. Specifically in a way that could end up coming back to BITE Andrealphus.

When you look back at Andre’s reaction to Stella mentioning what Stolas was specifically doing with Blitzo, it seems pretty clear that just Stolas loaning his Grimoire to Blitzo was a SERIOUS no-no for a Goetia. And almost certainly would have landed Stolas in hot shit with the law even without any outside scheming.

So why didn’t Andrealphus simply lead with that, instead of coming up with a fairly convoluted scheme of framing I.M.P. for ‘stealing’ the Grimoire and attempts on Stolas’s life, all seemingly with the goal of luring Stolas out to save Blitzo and take the fall for him, at which point Andre steps in to volunteer as a reasonable ‘regent’ for Stolas’s power and position?

Why not just let the authorities KNOW about Stolas’s illegal actions and be ready to smear him as much as possible to get him stripped of his power and position?

Now to be clear, I am NOT saying that this is ‘bad writing’ as so many who have lost all literary-analysis skill to the CinemaSins brain-worms might call it. Andrealphus ABSOLUTELY feels like the kind of character to get ‘lost in the sauce’ of his evil scheming and come up with something way more complicated than it needs to be.

What I think makes this so interesting is that Andre DIDN’T need to TRICK SATAN with this whole frameup job. So I have to wonder if THIS is what’s going to come back to… well, not so much ‘bite’ Andrealphus so much as chomp his whole ass off. Simply put, I do NOT think Satan would take kindly to being deceived in his own courtroom.

Though to keep in mind, I don’t think this would lead to Stolas somehow getting exonerated, having his position returned or any other kind of magic reset button shenanigans. For one, Satan doesn’t strike me as the kind who would go back on any of his rulings, and even if he might have been inclined, Stolas DID engage in his own deception of Satan by claiming to be some vague, nebulous ‘mastermind’ to take the fall for Blitzo. Meaning that Satan would probably tack on an extra century or two to Stolas’s ‘sentence’.

Rather, this would be less ‘exonerating Stolas’ and more ‘dragging Andrealphus under the bus.’ Getting him stripped of the power and position he got from Stolas (and maybe even his own existing position) and potentially removing him, and hopefully Stella as well, from Octavia.

Which in turn would provide a perfect setup/reason for Andrealphus to fly into an unhinged, murderous rage at Stolas and Blitzo.

Again, I’m not sure how much if any of this will end up being relevant. Mostly just that Andrealphus getting screwed over by his own overly complicated scheme does feel fitting.

[part-time-zombie]

Too Hot To Handle

pairings: platonic DLAMPR

summary: Sometimes the warm weather can get to be too much for Thomas and the sides, but it seems that a certain snake couldn't be happier about the whole situation.

tags/warnings: some cursing but that's about it

word count: 1136

This wasn’t the first time a heatwave descended upon Thomas’ apartment, courtesy of the ever-so dreadful Floridian climate, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The heat and humidity were an unpleasant constant from which there seemed very little escape, but fortunately there was sanctuary to be found inside thanks to the modern miracle of air conditioning.

A miracle that was currently malfunctioning.

The call had already been made for repairs, but it would not be able to be fixed until the end of the week. On the one hand, it was at least a little reassuring to know that the high temperatures would be resolved in only a few days, but on the other hand…

“It’s as if the sun itself had conspired against me! I’m melting in this heat, I swear!”

Logan rolled his eyes at Roman’s repeated whining. “Firstly, the sun is not a malicious entity with the intention or ability to deliberately intervene with your wishes, secondly-“

“You don’t have to take everything I say literally, Logan!”

“And you don’t have to complain about the thermostat all day, either. We’re all inconvenienced, but you don’t hear anyone else ranting about it for hours on end, now do you?”

“That’s mostly because we’re too damn miserable to,” Virgil grumbled from his current position on the living room floor. He had abandoned his hoodie hours ago in a last-ditch effort to cool off as he sprawled out like a starfish on the floor, though it didn’t really do him any good.

The other sides had gone to similar extremes by now, with Patton and Roman switching out their usual outfits for shorts with a tank top and a crop top respectively, and Logan having unbuttoned his polo and removed his tie. The hot weather had even gotten to Remus, who refused to wear anything other than shorts to stave off the heat as he and the others lounged about in the living room.

It seemed that fewer layers wouldn’t be enough, though. Roman was currently using a comically large paper fan to cool himself on the couch while Patton sat next to him with an ice pack. Virgil laid in the direct airflow of a large electric fan placed in the middle of the room, taking up as much of the refreshing breeze as possible no matter how badly Roman complained. Remus had gone so far as to set up a small plastic kiddie pool next to Virgil and filled it with ice, occasionally munching on some as he smugly refused to share or leave it.

Logan seemed most unaffected by the heat, only occasionally drinking ice water to cool off when he felt the need to, but it was still clear that he was just as miserable as the others. He had been complaining about it to a degree, though it was about the lack of energy and motivation brought on by the heat more than anything. The sides were all too concerned with cooling off to get anything done, though they still found the time to argue. In truth, there was little else they felt like doing.

That is, except for one side in particular.

Janus came back inside with a flourish and a smile, having just sunbathed on the back porch for the last couple of hours while the others wasted away indoors.

“Isn’t it just the perfect weather outside,” he hummed, sounding far too cheerful for anyone else’s liking. “If only it could be like this all year round, don’t you all agree?”

“For once in my life, I sincerely hope you’re lying,” Roman groaned. “It’s so hot in here I’m half convinced I saw two hobbits throw a ring in the living room!”

Logan let himself smile a little at that. “A Lord of the Rings joke, well done.”

“How are you handling the heat so well, Janus? I thought you’d be just as upset about it as Roman,” Patton asked, offering him his ice pack only for Janus to wave it away.

“On the contrary I find this warm weather rather enjoyable, though it’s clearly not for everyone.”

“You can say that again,” Virgil muttered, not looking up at him. “It’s hot as hell in here and it sucks big time, and you’re crazy for saying otherwise.”

“And being crazy is my thing, not yours!” Remus added, shifting in his ice bath to better face Janus. “I know we’re worsties and all, but if anyone’s going to say bat-shit stuff like that, it’s gonna be me!”

“Oh come on, you know very well why I’m enjoying myself right now.”

“Getting a kick out of seeing us miserable?” Roman asked with a growl.

Janus shrugged before strolling to the kitchen, humming idly to himself as he quickly returned to the living room with a water bottle in hand.

“In part, yes, but that’s not the main reason.”

Logan perked up a bit from his spot next to Patton. “It’s because you’re coldblooded, right? The higher temperatures must help with thermoregulation and metabolism for you. It would certainly explain why you appear so active and energized compared to the rest of us.”

“Well done, Logan! You guessed the right answer, good for you,” Janus teased, his voice oozing in condescension as he patronizingly applauded him.

“Don’t start any of that shit right now,” Virgil muttered, sweeping a leg out in an attempt to kick at Janus only for him to swiftly sidestep out of the way. “Today is not the day for this.”

“You’re right, Virgil. If anything, it’s a day for indulging in this wondrous weather instead of lying around and whining. In fact, what do you say I go crack open a window or two and get some fresh air in here, hm?”

Janus slyly walked over to one of the larger windows and reached to open it only to be stopped by a chorus of irritated shouting from the others.

“No!”

“Fuck off!”

“Absolutely not!”

“Please don’t!”

“I swear I’ll kill you!”

Janus obediently stepped away from the window with a grin, chuckling to himself at the others extreme reactions.

“Alright, alright, if you all insist. You can’t blame me for having a little fun here, though.”

“Well, if you’re feeling so lively right now, perhaps you could be of some help and start working on some of the chores for us,” Logan said.

Janus tapped a finger to his mouth in a mocking display of faux consideration before replying.

“No, that sounds like too much work. I think I’ll just go back outside and soak up a little more sun, if it’s all the same to you.” Janus gave the others another smile and a lazy wave before heading back to his basking spot on the back porch, enjoying the warm weather for all its worth.

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@nico-the-overlord @can-i-take-a-stab @keitaisghost @new-zee-land @yuckypuppie

[tealmisthams]

I think about this all the time!

The conclusion I have come to, or at least what is my head canon and what I incorporate in my fics, is that Echo did not want to know how Fives died.

What Echo went through after the Citadel is already so horrific and he would have had so much trauma after and so much to adjust to. New appearance, new body, navigating his mental trauma, as well as grieving for Fives. It’s just so much and I think that Echo himself decided that he couldn’t handle the details of Fives’ death, at least not yet, and I think Rex agreed.

Clones died constantly during TCW, so when you hear that a clone has been killed, more than likely it was in battle and by an enemy’s weapon. Even if Echo didn’t believe that was what happened to Fives, it would be easier to accept while he dealt with the rest of his trauma.

As for why Rex didn’t mention the chips, I think he wasn’t certain enough about them. I don’t think he truly believed it until he was pointing his blasters at Ahsoka. But he trusted Fives, which was why he documented what happened. The chip conspiracy was such a huge issue, though. Rex would know that, if it were true, revealing it to anyone would put them at risk and, without precise planning and proper evidence, no one would take action to stop it.

So telling Echo would very likely put him at risk and worsen his already traumatized mental state. I believe Rex told Echo the real story about Fives when he met TBB after Order 66 and helped them remove their chips.

As for why Echo didn’t seem to react? The most logical explanation, to me, is that Rex told him privately, so no one else saw his reaction. After that, Echo hid his feelings, which I feel like Echo does regularly anyway. TBB loved each other, but they weren’t the most emotionally supportive group, especially before they got used to having Omega around.

Those are just my thoughts, though. Thank you for letting me join your ramblings!

Okay but I wanna talk about something that has been bugging me for ages and it's the number of questions I have about what Echo knows about Fives' death. Because we never actually see Echo finding out about Fives, so exactly what he knows is kind of left up in the air but then I have so many questions about it.

There are two things we know for certain. 1) Echo knows that Fives is dead. 2) Echo DID NOT know about the chips.

So coming off of that, how much does Echo know? And what has he been told about how it happened? Is it a case that he knows that Fives is dead and that's it? Did he get told he was shot? Was he told it was a virus? (Tbf I find this one a little bit unlikely seeing as, at the end of the day, Fives didn't die from a "virus" he died from a blaster wound and that's gonna be in his files).

But then coming off of that, if Echo doesn't know anything other than "Fives is dead" then why? Was that his choice to not know anything else? Was it whoever told him? And if he knew Fives got shot then how much does he know about the circumstances? Does he know that Fives was shot by Fox? Was he told that a "virus" had made him crazy before he was shot? Does he know that there was a warrant out for Fives' arrest for attempted assassination of the Chancellor? And if no, then why???

I also wanna know why he wasn't told about the chips. I can kind of understand the idea of that info being held back because they don't want rumours spreading around the GAR of something that none of them were sure was true to begin with. But then who made the decision to withhold from Echo the whole thing about his brother running around trying to warn people about this conspiracy? Even if they weren't sure it was true, did they just go "yeah, Fives kinda lost it" and Echo didn't even question that? Or did they just go "nope, not telling Echo anything about conspiracy theories" to avoid the risk of Echo doing digging by himself, finding out that the Chancellor has been up to some weird stuff that resulted in his brother's death and then going to the Chancellors office and tossing him out a window?

Anyway that's my ramblings for the day

@saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @the-bi-space-ace

[kazemiya]

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[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[dalliancekay]

I never said that Aziraphale wasn't trying to protect them.

But you are saying that's not good enough?

What I said is that Aziraphale and Crowley will never truly be able to see each other because Aziraphale views Crowley being a demon as a problem, something that needs to be fixed.

No he doesn't. He adores Crowley and if you can't see it in the span of 12 episodes I'm not sure anything in the film will help.

He asked because there is still a belief in his mind that there is a good side, and that Heaven is that side. It is hard to break a belief you've bad for millennium.

Aziraphale doesn't believe Heaven is the 'good' side since Before the Beginning, since before Crowley knew he had to be careful with what he said or did.

Crowley and Aziraphale won't work currently because Aziraphale sees Crowley as someone that needs to be undoubtedly good.

Aziraphale KNOWS Crowley is good. He never doubted him. He saw his as a demon on the Eden wall and immediately confessed to him about his sword, something he did not trust God with.

While Crowley is able to see that there is a good side and a bad side, he's also able to see that there is a side where he doesn't have to fight in a war that's not his.

I don't think Crowley gets a choice. And he knows it too. Where would he go? How is going to avoid the War?

and one of Azirphale's biggest fears is not being viewed as Angelic enough.

No. That's your HC and that's how you see him for whatever reason. Sure, he doesn't want to Fall, but neither did Crowley. He can't be blamed for that. Why would he want to? What Aziraphale never wanted to happen is for his superiors to find out just how un-angelic he is and punish him - by removing him from his post on Earth and away from Crowley for example.

For them to work, Aziraphale has to come to the conclusion that there is no good side. Every side has their goods and bads. But none are necessarily 'good.'

What makes you think he doesn't know that??

The angel who gave Heaven every chance to NOT let Job's children be killed and then lied about saving them, the angel that had to look at Flood and be powerless to do anything, the angel who finds loopholes where he can so he can spin things the way he needs them and defend his actions - like finding out digging dead bodies up can be actually good. How can the angel who tried to speak to everyone about NOT starting the Armageddon and the War can think that everything is black and white and Heaven is the good one?

What Aziraphale needs, is to be free from fear that Crowley will be punished, that he will be punished, that Crowley can be destroyed by Hell on a whim, that their little bubble can burst at any point.

He spent his whole time on Earth being scared of all of that. And apparently he spent the time Before Earth anxious that Crowley will say or do something that will warrant some sort of 'trouble' if the adorably oblivious, giddy star-starting angel is not careful with his words and actions.

THAT IS WHY THEIR RELATIONSHIP 'DIDN'T WORK'.

Because they were never free to be together. They shouldn't have ever even met on Earth - apart from the times they were supposed to fight each other. But to me, their relationship always worked as well as it could, and it was always beautiful. The fact that they couldn't have all they wanted was NOT Aziraphale's fault. P.S. Crowley's Fall and Forgiveness Cos I didn't address it properly above but I did in comments: First of all, we don't know why Crowley fell, we don't know if he CHOSE to fall PLUS he himself says he did not mean to, as I did mention above. So I don't see how or why Crowley would ever defend his Fall as the 'right' choice to Aziraphale. Does Aziraphale think Crowley didn't deserve to fall and suffer? Most likely. Does he blame Crowley for what happened and where is - ABSOLUTELY NOT. We don't know if Crowley wants Azi's forgiveness or not. Everyone always assumes he doesn't. That he's offended by it even. But Crowley's reply to Azi forgiving him is kind of a roll of eyes on S1 and 'Don't bother' in S2. It is not 'fuck off' or 'I don't want your forgiveness' or anything like that. It's more akin to: 'FINE, I know you love me but this is not how I wanted this. (Neither did Az but there we are, this is all he could do for now) Crowley himself calls himself unforgivable and when Aziraphale offers him his forgiveness, he offers him something God Herself did not - an assurance that whatever Crowley says or does or doesn't do, whatever decisions he makes - Aziraphale will always, always forgive him (will always love him). I think that it is more than any I love you would have achieved.

I'm pissed about the lack of finish for Good Omens, but I will be FURIOUS, if the movie doesn't include Crowley yelling at Aziraphale.

I need Crowley to finally tell him that no, I don't need to be forgiven, I do not want to be forgiven. My fall from 'grace' is not something that I regret. It is not something I need you to forgive me for. It was a decision I made and it was not a wrong one.

Because this is the reason why they just haven't seemed to be able to fully connect, because Aziraphale still believes that Crowley made a mistake.

Why else would Crowley be so fixated on an 'Us?' He doesn't fit into Hell or Heavan, doesn't want to, and he wished Aziraphale could see that it doesn't have to be the divine versus the sin, because picking a side doesn't always work. Why should they fight in their war? Why shouldn't they just fight to protect their home? Their world?

[waywardsalt]

Hi! I hope you’re doing good in life.

What do you think of a phantom hourglass remake? Tbh I don’t know how they could remake it without basically remaking it from the ground-up. It would probably play more like windwaker, which I see as a both a good and bad thing. On the one hand, if it was more like windwaker a lot more people would probably play and it would be more popular since I know the touch controls were a turn off for most people for both Spirit Tracks and Phantom hourglass. But on the other hand, remaking it to be more like windwaker would make the game lose some of it’s previous identity. Like, Phantom hourglass was so unique because of the touch controls and the puzzles you can make and solve by having two screens and touch controls. And it was so nifty and handy to be able to write notes on your map. Idk, I still would like it to be remade in general even if it ends up a basically different game, but I wouldn’t change the story or the characters, especially Linebeck. The only other change I would make is the music. Phantom hourglass had rather weak themes, mainly because they re-used the same theme for the islands and the dungeons. The only songs that were really good were the few orginal tracks made for the game, so Linebeck’s theme, Oshus’s theme, both Bellum boss battle themes and the and that music that plays when you first follow the Ghost Ship. But what would you want out of a phantom hourglass remake?

Hey, I’m doing good, and I hope you are too!

I’ve thought a bit about a possible Phantom Hourglass remake, but not too much recently. I don’t really know if I’d want one, since you’d lose a lot of what really makes it special, and you can still play it through other means. I’m personally fond of the graphics and the music- yes, even the dungeon theme has grown on me- so I don’t really want a remake too badly, especially since I fear any additions/changes they might make with story or characters in a remake. The touch controls make it, and playing it on pc recreates that feeling decently well, but I don't think it'll be just the same if you had to control it with joysticks or anything.

Not to mention, there's so much emphasis on having the two screens, too, not just for map stuff, but almost every single boss had a mechanic related to the top screen! I have no fucking clue how you'd replicate that very well on something like the switch without just fucking with the mechanics altogether.

I would kill to hear some of Phantom Hourglasses tracks be orchestrated or otherwise rearranged in a higher quality. I wouldn't want any of the more notable themes altered in any way, no adding or removing of melodies and only very very small changes to the instrumentation, but I think it'd be neat to see what could be done with dungeon themes. I think a while back I had a fleeting desire to write some short tracks for each dungeon, with some ideas like mostly using instruments heard in Bellum's themes for the dungeons while each individual one gets a leading instrument unique to and reflective of the dungeon, while the Ghost Ship maybe gets a song that's a bit of a expanded version of the fog theme, while the Temple of the Ocean King could have slightly different themes the further in you got, starting with instruments more common to Oshus's theme or the great sea theme, while the further in you got the more instruments from Bellum's theme would be heard, plus some harpsichord thrown in for the hell of it.

Leave the original dungeon theme for stuff like the minor pyramids and some larger cave areas, idk. It's grown on me.

I think the only story rearranging I'd want is mayyyyybe unfridging Tetra? You could very easily shuffle some things around with her and just not damsel her for the whole game and honestly it'd still go off perfectly without a hitch. But you'd still have to deal with the World of the Ocean King being a whole other world, so either bring her and her crew in and have them as wandering ship npcs (the better idea) or just leave them out (not a good idea) but either way it's better than what they actually did. I just don't think I'd want it to switch to Tetra being a major reoccurring character tbh, the main character dynamics in PH are good as they are.

I think I like Phantom Hourglass too much as it is to really want a remake at all. I'd rather we get something like an anime adaptation. That's what I think about more. Give me animated Phantom Hourglass with some fun takes on the dungeons and fights and some fun slice of life stuff with the group between the islands what I want is a Phantom Hourglass anime

[omotelie]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO