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melissa-kenobi · 3 months ago

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🎃 Kinktober 2024 🎃 Dean Winchester + Mirrors

Hii, to kick off Kinktober 2024, we've got Dean Winchester first.

Under 18s, DNI.

Warnings: Mirror Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Size Kink, Breeding, Dean Winchester himself.

Word Count: 2.1K Words

🎃 Kinktober 2024 MasterList 🎃

***

Now, you weren't a huge fan of carnivals or circus' or theme parks or that whole gig, but Dean was beyond excited to go, and how could you say no to his cute face?

He had pleaded with you for days on end, begging you, cooking for you, taking care of you every single time.

Almost as if he was trying to bribe you.

And he was.

"Dean, honey?" You sidle up to him, kissing his cheek whilst he prepared a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup for you. Something he only ever did when you were sick, and you most definitely was not sick.

"Mmhh, yeah sweetheart?" Dean replied, quickly turning his head to capture your lips before he gave you a cheeky smirk.

You pat his bottom playfully before taking a seat on the countertop, "You know bribery isn't usually your strong suit."

"Isn't it?" Dean gives you a playful grin whilst plating up your food and sliding it over to you. You watch with bated eyes as he stands in between your legs and picks up the sandwich to feed you, "Take a bite princess."

You narrow your eyes at him before indulging in his request and leaning forwards to take a bite of the grilled sandwich. You had to hold back a moan as the cheese stretched apart from the sandwich and your mouth. Before you even had the chance to lick your lips, Dean was already kissing you and licking them for you.

"Good?" He asks smirking softly, knowing you enjoyed that.

"Meh, I've had better." You shrug nonchalantly, noticing his playful glare at you. You'd purposely made it a double meaning talking about other things, too. You hope down from the counter kissing his cheek and taking the plate of food with you, "Thanks honey."

"Wait- I thought you didn't like it?" He looks at you curiously.

"I don't." You smirk, making your way to the couch with a cheeky sway to your walk.

Dean lets out a little growl, which goes unheard by you, "I'll show you better, sweetheart, I'm the best you've ever had."

***

A week later, you had succumbed and got dragged with Dean to the circus/theme park he had given you those cute puppy dog eyes with his dimples, and you'd agreed.

Dean was beyond happy as he drove you, Sam, and Jess to the Circus. Sam sat in the back and leaned over to you, whispering, "Hey, what's got him so happy?"

You rolled your eyes and looked at Dean, who was singing along loudly to Highway to Hell, "He's happy because he dragged me along to the Circus even though he knows I don't like them."

Sam chucked as he patted your shoulder, "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Jess leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry, us girls will stick together."

You smiled as Jess patted your arm in a comforting gesture before moving back, only then to feel a hand on your thigh. You looked up at noticed Dean still singing along, but this time, he glanced over at you with a smirk on those sinful lips.

"And we're going doooownnn, all the waaayy...."

***

You and Jess did not stick together.

Dean had pulled you away from Sam and Jess and was constantly making you go on scary rides so you'd hold onto him and beg him for forgiveness. You were starting to think he liked the way you'd hold onto him for support and pray that he'd save you.

"I fucking hate you Dean!" You screamed as you squeezed his hand just as you saw the huge drop on the rollercoaster.

After 45 minutes of torture, Dean had bought you some food and had won a stuffed squirrel, which funnily enough reminded you of him.

"Look at him, he's so cute! He even has dimples like you and the little freckles!" You gushed over the plushie.

"Alright, give it here." Dean grumbles as he reached for it only for you to spin away from him.

"Hey! No! He's mine." You frowned, protecting your squirrel Dean.

"Sweetheart- give me the damn stuffed toy." Dean said in his deep voice.

You rolled your eyes, he knew that wouldn't work on you, not anymore, "You want it? Come and get me."

You giggled before running into a tent along with plushie Dean. What you hadn't realised was that it was closed and that it was a hall of mirrors. You know those creepy ones where if you take the wrong move, you bang your head into a mirror?

Yep. It was one of them ones.

"Y/N!" Dean called out your name before running in after you.

You ran around, surprisingly not bumping into any mirrors so far, but in one of the reflections, you saw a glimpse of Dean. You cursed under your breath, turning left only to bump straight something. You let out a yelp rubbing your forehead only to look and notice it wasn't a mirror you'd bumped into, it was Dean.

"Fuck!" You screamed as Dean tilted his down at you with a smirk.

You took a step back but everytime you took one back, Dean would follow through with one closer to you. Until you found yourself backed up against a mirror, Dean's chest pressed against your as he placed his hands by your head.

"Where are you going sweetheart? I've already found you." Dean smirks, reaching over to caress your cheek.

You stay quiet.

"Ah ah, you weren't so quiet earlier. Or even this past week." Dean says pressing his lower body against you, "You know, I think you enjoyed me being at your beck and call."

"Dean.." You mumble out, still holding onto plushie Dean.

"What baby?" Dean leans forward and presses a kiss to your neck, slowly moving his way down to your clavicle as his other hand unbuttons your shirt. "Tell me to stop-

"No!" You moan out a little too loudly- "Don't stop..."

Your words make Dean grin sinfully he bites your neck, leaving a mark "Hmm, what was that sweetheart? You want me to stop?"

"Dean.. no! Don't stop, fuck-" You moan out softly, dropping plushie Dean and wrapping your arms around Dean neck to pull him closer. "Fuck- I want you..."

The moment the plushie drops from your hands, Dean instantly smirks and thinks, 'I'm the only Dean in her life' and flips you around, pressing you against the mirror, "Look at how ready you are for me.."

Dean rips your shirt off your body and slings it away, making you let out a quiet gasp, "Dean my-

"Shush. No talking, princess. This is my reward for being at your beck and call for the past week. This is me showing you I'm the best you'll ever have."

His words ring a bell in your mind, but you're too distracted with the way his hands caress your breasts and push them together. Dean continues sucking at your neck before sliding a hand down your stomach and into your jeans and cupping your bare pussy.

"Fuck." He curses, feeling his cock strain against his own jeans, "Naughty fucking girl, no panties?"

You shudder as he slides a finger through your bare pussy, gently circling your clit. You can't help but grind your pussy against his finger, needing that friction, needing him, "I can feel how wet you are princess." Dean moans out, hips rutting against your ass.

"Dean-

He ignores you and slides his hand out of your jeans, and brings it to your lips, "Clean."

You immediately take his fingers into your mouth, closing your eyes as you taste yourself on his fingers, "Look at my dirty girl- tasting herself on my fingers."

He grips your chin with his free hand and makes you face the mirror, "Eyes open, baby. I want you to watch as I wreck your pussy. I want you to know I'm the only one who'll ever have your pussy, it's mine."

"But- Dean there's people-

"Ah- no. I don't care. You need a reminder of who you belong to and who looks after you." Dean growls, pulling your jeans down and slapping your cheeks. You jump forward, letting out a gasp, not expecting Dean to do that.

"Eyes open princess." Dean reminds you before sinking down to his knees and burying his face in your pussy. You scream out his name, eyes immediately closing, hands going to his hair to tug on it before Dean bites your thigh making your glance at the mirror where Dean sat between your legs.

"Don't make me ask again." He growls out in another warning.

You nod, keeping your eyes open this time, watching Dean through the mirror as he ate your pussy out. Constantly changing from sucking on your clit, to dipping his tongue in and out of your hole whilst moaning loudly. You watch as he swings one of your legs onto his shoulder, burying his face further into your pussy making you moan his name louder.

"Dean- ah I can't- I'm gonna-" You barely get to finish your sentence when Dean sucks harshly on your clit. His actions make your mind break, and your body softens in his grip as you reach your high, eyes rolling back into your head as you grip his hair tightly.

"Fuck you taste so good baby, best pussy I've ever had. Mine." Dean mumbles against your lower lips, eyes closed in pleasure as he gently laps up your juices and release.

You can't help but tug on his hair, wanting to see his face, his lips and mouth soaked on your juices, eyes filled with lust as he gazes at you in the mirror.

"So pretty." He moans as he looks at you through the mirror. He gives one last kiss to your pussy before standing up behind you. His jeans were at the bottom of his ankles, cock in hand whilst he pulled your hair back to kiss you.

You moaned wantonly into the kiss, tasting you on his lips, in his mouth everywhere.

"Sweet. My sweet princess, do you know how sweet you taste? Fuck I could stay here for days." He moans against your lips, tapping the tip of his cock against your pussy, gently hitting your clit. "God, I wanna stay here for days."

You gasp as he slides his cock between your thighs, rubbing it between them, eyes flicking to yours in the mirror as you watch his tip peak out between your thighs in the mirror. You purposely squeeze your thighs around his cock making Dean growl and bite your neck.

"Don't-" He warns just before pulling your hair making your head lean on his shoulder, "Don't test me."

"I want your eyes on my cock, watching how I pound your tight little cunt. My princess' tight little cunt." He orders you before pushing his cock in with a low growl.

You keep your eyes on his cock, watching and enjoying the way his cock fills your pussy so well. He pumps in and out slowly, almost torturing you. A ring of white lays around the base of his cock, making you moan at the sight. The way you cream around his cock makes you unintentionally squeeze him, wanting him to feel your walls tighten around his cock.

"Shit-" Dean moans your name before placing a hand on your lower stomach, "Fuck- don't do that-"

Dean presses down on your lower stomach, feeling a bump causing you to moan Dean's name lowly, "Ah, you're so deep..."

"Fuck fuck- I can feel my cock here-" Dean says softly, pushing against the slight bump making you squeeze him. Your eyes fall upon his hand, where his cock bulges your stomach out. You place a hand over his and moan.

"Dean..-"

"I know baby- eyes on me- I'm gonna-" He says when you squeeze around him again. He bites down on your neck and pumps his cock in and out of you in a torturously slow pace, wanting to make you break. He growls when you tremble around him.

"Dean- I'm gonna-" You're cut of by Dean growling your name and shoving you against the mirror and thrusting faster. A moan of Dean's name spills from your lips as you reach your high, Dean swiftly following after. His cock stilling as he fills your pussy with his cum.

Through the mirror, you meet Dean eyes, a smirk etched on his lips as he watches his cum leak out from the sides of your pussy.

"Mine." Dean finishes, kissing your neck, holding you possessively before kicking away the Dean plushie.

***

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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mmhcs · 4 months ago

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₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡

Okay, Miguel with a nice and sweet partner is very cool and very wholesome and I am in full support of that dynamic but what about Miguel with a partner that's equally if not scarier than him?

Like, compared to you, Miguel is actually the nice one? People give him a lot of flak and he used to understand and accept but ever since you two got together, he's like, "You think that I'm mean? That I'm scary? You should meet my partner—you'll cry."

Whether you're a Spider or not, you go to the Spider Society and of course everybody is nice to and you're nice to everybody (just because you have a scary aura doesn't mean that you're a jerk) but Miguel uses it to his advantage because during meetings when nobody's listening to him, he says, "Don't make me call (Y/N)." and everybody immediately shuts up and pays attention.

Alternatively, when Miguel does call you in, all you have to do is stand at his side with your arms crossed and a frown on your face like a disappointed parent/teacher and suddenly everyone is paying attention because you being called in is basically the equivalent of a parent having to leave work early to have an impromptu meeting with their misbehaving child's teacher.

Whenever you and Miguel argue, it's like lightning and thunder.

Everybody knows to stay out of it (which they most definitely do) but they just can't help but watch somebody go toe-to-toe with Miguel O'Hara.

And more often than not, Miguel walks out of his office with a pout on his face, looking like a child who just got grounded.

As he skulks out of his office, a bunch of Spiders that were eavesdropping around the corner scatter in the opposite direction, trying to look busy. Everyone except Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie, Peter, and Jess.

While Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr all try to comfort Miguel, Hobie simply wraps an arm around Miguel and pulls him down to his height. Then, with a smirk on his face, Hobie asks, "Trouble in paradise, mate?"

Miguel only mumbles something incoherent and pushes Hobie off of him, still pouting. Meanwhile, Peter, Jess, and Lyla are trying to hold back their snickers.

But Miguel loves you.

Sometimes when people give him shit, he doesn't retaliate; he calmly walks away from the situation and goes and tells you what the other person said about him and from there he goes to bed knowing that the person who was mean to him earlier now has to sleep with one eye open and a rosary underneath their pillow because when you see them, it's on sight.

Similarly, if the two of you ever have a child or children, you do not play about them. If people thought that you two were scary before, they're packing their bags and moving to the next dimension when the situation involves one of your children.

You and Miguel angry together at the same thing? Lord.

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lovers-rck · 1 year ago

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bubble gum

summary ellie hids something in her notebook

content friends to lovers, ellie williams x fem!reader

☆

"do you want to see that movie that i told you about?"

you make a face, looking at the weird pink thing on the ceiling "is that gum?"

ellie follow your gaze and cringe "i don't know what you are talking about"

"that, on your ceiling"

"there's nothing in the ceiling" she says, avoiding your gaze and playing with her pen.

"yeah there is!" you replie "look there"

"maybe you are high"

"what? that makes zero... whatever"

ellie's face displays a victorious smile as she keeps drawing in her sketchbook "so... you want to see that movie? jesse told me that was super scary"

you were laying down in ellie's bed, outside was raining. you kept looking at the gum in the ceiling as you scrunched your nose "i don't know. im not in the mood for a scary movie"

ellie rolled her eyes. she had already seen the movie, but maybe if she pretended not to have seen it before to watch it with you maybe, just maybe, you would snuggle up to her in the scary parts. or whatever.

"pussy" she murmurs. her pencil traces long sketches on the rough paper

"you are so annoying" you say as you sit in the bed, finger brushing your hair "what are you drawing?"

ellie shakes her head "nothing" she is sitting at the head of the bed, with her back against the wall. some thread of hair are resting in her face, tickling her skin, and you have the urge to put those annoying locks behind her ear.

but you don't.

"let me see" you say

you crawl between the sheets, sitting across from ellie, who is holding the sketchbook strangely tightly.

"it's just doodles"

"okay" you replie "i want to see them"

"is shit"

"all your work is shit to you" you rolled your eyes "i never get to see your drawings"

"you are so noisy, has anyone ever told you that?" ellie says

you stick out your tongue playfully and when ellie laughs you grab her sketchbook quickly. ellie is quick too and lunges at you, your body getting pinned between the mattress and ellie's body.

you two become a jumble of wrestling arms and hands "give it back" ellie yells, half laughing half angry "no!" you scream, holding the sketchbook above your head "bitch!" you yell when ellie bites your shoulder

you hear ellie's laugh and take that opportunity to open the sketchbook above her head, where she can't reach in that position.

you always wanted to see what ellie did in that notebook, always curled up in the pages sketching something. you noticed how she always carried a pen and that notebook everywhere she goes, drawing something time to time.

so your surprise is genuine when you go through the pages and find various drawings of you.

you laughing with jesse. you with some dogs. you and that stupid frog stuffed animal she gave you. you smiling. and the most recent sketch, half way finished; you laying down in her bed, just like you were a couple minutes ago.

the drawings are beautiful, quickly but really good studies of you. if you squint your eyes a bit, you can see where she erased some lines to redraw them more accurately.

you flinch when ellie's hand interrupt your surprise by grabbing and closing the notebook. she moves away from you and you sit down.

ellie is sitting a couple inches away from you, avoiding your gaze and hugging that sketchbook like a kid hugging her favorite toy.

your lack of words was not exactly due to the drawings. you knew that this was normal and that ellie used to draw people she knew, you were in moments where she decided to walk away and draw the moment, immortalizing it on paper.

your lack of words was due to what the scribbles and words around the drawings meant. little hearts, short confessions of love and silly doodles were the things your eyes could decipher in the short seconds you held the notebook in your hands.

"ellie"

"i told you that they were stupid drawings" she replied, her voice tinged with rage and shame.

she felt idiot. too idiot to fall in love with her friend . too dumb to draw her friend when she was distracted, trying to capture every tiny detail that make you special with a stupid pen in a stupid notebook. too idiot to think about you in that way.

"they are not" you murmur

"yes they are" she feels so ashamed "i should throw this thing to the trash can"

you feel how angry and ashamed she is and your mind just can think of the dumbest or smartest response that has ever you occurred.

so you kiss her.

you fingertips feel the soft skin of her cheeks as you press your lips against hers. you don't move, too afraid to do something, so for a couple of seconds your lips just stay there, warming eachothers flesh.

when you feel that you had made the stupidest decision ever you move away, panicking and mumbling sorry's. your hands leaves ellie's cheeks, to embarrassed to even look at her.

"im sorry" you murmur "im sorry ellie. i don't know who gave me the right to do that. im sorry" you look at the door of her room "maybe i should go. sorry"

but before you can go, ellie kisses you back. her grip is more stronger that yours, her hand resting in the back of your head, moving you against her.

she moves her lips this time. her mouth moves against yours, deepening the kiss quickly. hungry.

she pushes you closer to her, moving you in a way that you end up in her lap, with your hands in her neck, kissing her like your life depends on it.

you can feel the same response from her. her hands are everywhere, squeezing and touching and caressing every part of your body as fast as she can, too excited to keep her hands in one place.

a few moments later you move away from your mouth, searching for air. she looks at you.

everything is very awkward for a couple of seconds before you two start laughing.

ellie's chest moves as she laughs with embarrassment "god" she mouths

you laugh too "confessing your love for me trough drawings" you say "fucking drama queen"

ellie hide her face with her hands "shut up. im embarrassed"

"as you should"

"idiot" she murmurs, taking her hands off her face "can i kiss you again?"

you roll your eyes.

but you nod.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams lesbian #lesbians #friends to lovers #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie the last of us

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 8 months ago

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TKATB: More theories! Yay!

This most certainly will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).

WILL HAVE SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THROUGH DAYS 1 AND 2, I RECOMMEND FINISHING THEM FIRST.

Quite a lot of these may allude to the ones I posted a week(?) ago, but my brain has brained REALLY HARD (almost as hard as when I get when I see Geo) and I think I have more ideas/more specified ideas of what could happen.

- So, I am correct in assuming the fact that the Hallow's Ball is on Day 5 (because Day 1 is in fact Monday); now this might be a stretch, in fact, it probably is, but due to the fact the Higher Class paid a visit to the school, maybe some of them might show up? Or maybe the people who bullied Brittney (think the food fight route) try to publically humiliate her or something, because something tells me she's got a lot of enemies, and something pretty bad is gonna happen to her.

- Geo is mentioned to have been disqualified due to 'accidentally' shooting an arrow at another person and it cutting their hair. Jess mentions we'd have to go 'next year' to see him partake again, so I'm gonna guess this competition is an annual thing. Maybe (and I'm assuming this as well) Geo and Hyugo were part of the Higher Class (because their dad works with the city's Founder, so that's gotta be High Class if I've ever heard it), but they were moved down. Geo is seemingly using archery to try and get selected to return back to the Higher Class, but if so, why get purposefully disqualified over almost potentially killing someone? Maybe, someone *really* pissed him off, or maybe got him sent down for whatever reason (we know Geo has daddy issues so maybe his father treats him like shit because of it) and he's subtly trying to threaten them?

- Along with that, MC wonders why he didn't get arrested. Think about it, he's got money, a lot of it. Hyugo says how corrupt this city is, their father (I believe Geo is an illegitimate child, due to the mother cheating or smth idk) probably paid the cops to not give a shit.

- Hyugo also has a LOT of connections, is often MIA, and is in the student council, so he's got influence. (Maybe adding salt to Geo's wounds indirectly?) I have a feeling he goes MIA for his syndicate activities (he has access to sleeping pills); and maybe because he's part of the council and gets stupidly high ass grades, nobody questions it. Besides, he's probably got some sketchy operations going on to maintain it all.

- With Crowe asking about Marie Antoinette, I now feel that our 'responses' to whether she was a good or horrible person are things HE did. "She was ignorant, she raved while people were starving..." - MC to Crowe when choosing the 'She was a horrible person' choice. I'll ignore the latter part for now, because that was a normal thing for rich people to do at the time. But the ignorant part is interesting. Maybe the reason Crowe is so nice (and it's not a facade, according to Fantasia herself) is because he's trying to redeem himself? Sol, if you don't skip class and let him escort you, states: "Ichabod (Crowe's surname) it's always been you. I should have dealt with him years ago..." So, maybe, at some point, Crowe had a pristine relationship with his family, mother specifically, (he doesn't anymore) and the reasoning behind this is due to the fact he believed he was superior? Maybe he was even a bully at some point? Hell, maybe he even made fun of Sol, and Sol wants to obliterate him for it. He (Crowe) was making him (Sol), and now he is trying to steal his so(u)lmate?! How fucking dare he?!

- Brittney also states that she's astonished about how Deryl has almost no friends, so I think that's incredibly fascinating, because it's true. How does a bubbly, happy jock like him get ignored by so many? Maybe because he helped Brittney (along with Jess) when she was low?

- Again, about Brittney, I feel that that frat party 2 years ago shattered her reputation, her image, everything. I bet some damaging info got spread about her and it led to her 'mysteriously' leaving the cheerleading squad, becoming more isolated and essentially (I'm assuming this) getting moved down with Jess. (Check previous one for why I think Jess got moved down as well, but tldr is she lost her shit, maybe got physical and it got her and Brittney sent to the worse school together). - On Fantasia's twitter, there's a Day 3 nsfw image of Sol essentially standing in front of a mirror with blood everywhere (ill link the slideshow that i have of every image i found/liked), anyway it's the right one on slide 9; with the caption "All I see are flaws"....so maybe if you ignore him on Day 3 and hang out with Crowe, he'll start losing his shit? Maybe thinking he isn't good enough? - Also, in the Day 2 NSFW scene, there are some prominent burn marks on Sol's back...does he get abused to this day? Does he live alone and they're scars?????? Maybe that's what he meant when he says "I've been dealt worse" in relation to the bullying? He does have history with them after all.

So. That's basically it, brain will continue to brain. Until then, ciao. (and yes the Geo fanfic is coming dw) Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wb_biHRk6g1gKj0WZ5XVwEtKGjFRTapDYerlEyhYPGE/edit#slide=id.g2cffd4cd112_0_34

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irisposts · 11 months ago

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don’t go | e.williams

warning: cheating, slight angst

thinking about making multiple parts lemme know! :)

edited: yes/no

DINNER IS AWKWARD….

Your fork clinks against the plate as you attempt to spear the lingering asparagus. The sounds of Jesse clearing his throat and Dina blowing a breath of air fill the room.

Your eyes lift ever so slightly, observing Ellie toying with her food—her fork nudging lettuce around her plate, her expression disturbed. You then turn your attention to Calum, your boyfriend, who casually swipes at his mouth with a napkin, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the air.

You chew on your lip.

Jesse clears his throat once more, “Y/N, man, these mashed potatoes.” His usual southern drawl, which would bring you comfort, now adds to your anxiety. “Sure are good… love me some good ol’ mashed potatoes.”

Jesse awkwardly chuckles, then stops as Dina gestures for him to stop with a touch of her hand.

The first scrape of the chair reaches your ears.

“I’m not feeling well,” Ellie abruptly stands up and takes her plate.

You watch with wet eyes as she avoids eye contact, keeping them low to the ground. What stings the most is the comforting look Dina offers to her, and how Ellie acknowledges that instead.

“Thanks for the dinner.” She nods towards you and Calum, then disposes of her plate in the kitchen. You watch as she comes back to walk past and stops. She looks at the two of you this time, and you can see it in her eyes, the hurt. “Congrats.”

And with that, Ellie walks away head low. Your throat tightens, and this massive wave of unease settles at the pit of your stomach. Your eyes fall to the diamond ring on your finger, and it feels almost too much to bear.

It's been three weeks since you and Calum dropped the engagement bomb on your friends over dinner. Or at least, Calum did the dropping. You wanted to wait a few more weeks, maybe even months.

You care a lot about Calum; he's sweet, kind, and handsome. However, you can't shake the feeling that things are moving too fast. You both met at university around a year ago, and you’re both in your early twenties, trying to figure this whole thing out.

Then, last month, he got down on one knee at dinner, in front of your parents, and popped the magic question,

"—Do you want to marry him?"

Your mind goes blank, and you glance over to Ellie, who's fixedly staring at the TV.

"What?"

Ellie licks her lips, and you observe her swallowing a thought.

This is the first time in weeks you've heard Ellie speak to you in a complete sentence. You've been roommates for three years, and not hearing her voice was admittedly torture. Lately, she's been distant and awkward, responding with the occasional "yeah," "yes," "I don't know."

You practically invited yourself onto the couch tonight, and now she's talking to you; things are starting to look up for once, you think to yourself.l

"Do you want to marry Calum...?" Ellie turns her head toward you, but her eyes are still low. She holds her pointer and middle finger, a nervous tick you've noticed over the years.

You take a moment. "I…" When you try to speak and say yes, the words get stuck in your throat. You close your lips and swallow. "I don't know...."

Saying this, a wave of shame hits you, and you bite back the guilt, but you feel it spreading to your throat, crawling toward the surface. "W-Why do you ask?"

Ellie shakes her head, hesitating. “I…just.” Her lips tremble, and you watch as she goes through the motions before finally saying, "Don't go."

It's almost like your world stops, and in tunnel vision, it's only Ellie.

You lean forward, placing your hand on top of hers. "Ellie, I—"

The front door snaps open; your fiancé, Calum, stumbles in. You sit up, partially alarmed but equally annoyed that you had given him a key a while back.

"Helloooooo!” He slams the door shut and stumbles further into the apartment. "Man, people don't know how to drive," Calum slurs his words. "Fuckin amateurs…"

Ellie's lips turn into a straight line, and she swipes at her eyes.

"You drove here drunk?"

Calum makes a face. "No, Jesus, Y/N. Relax, I just had a few drinks with the boys."

Calum turns towards your bedroom in a sway. He's drunk, too drunk as you watch him steady himself along the walls.

Ellie stands up and mumbles something along the lines of, "I got homework tonight," and shuffles awkwardly into her room.

"Ellie?" But it's too late as her room door closes.

Calum is at your front door, and he laughs. "What crawled in her pants?"

If you could throw daggers with your eyes, Calum would be obliterated.

It’s another two weeks, and your mind still wonders about what Ellie had meant when she said, “Don’t go.” You practically drive yourself mad, but every time you try to bring it up, Ellie is either too tired to talk, or you're working a shift, or Ellie is at basketball practice or with Dina and Jesse.

Speaking of Dina and Jesse, you've noticed your spot in the group has shrunk; the trio tends to hang out more, leaving you with Calum.

Most importantly, you've observed Dina and Ellie becoming exceptionally close.

Dina has been at your apartment more frequently; you hear the giggles in Ellie’s room when Dina stays the night. And you love Dina; you truly do, but you can't help but feel a bit jealous of this whole ordeal; after all, Ellie is your best friend. But this jealousy is more; it's different…

“Hey.”

You say the word so sharply it could cut ice. You watch as Ellie exits the bathroom, towel drying her hair.

She looks around at the empty apartment, “Hey?”

Every thought in your head scrambles to make its way first to your lips. “You’ve been avoiding me.” You don’t mean to sound accusatory, but you've simply had enough; you miss your best friend, your Ellie.

Ellie chews on the inside of her cheek. “Have I?” She continues walking forward towards her bedroom. But you stop her, grabbing her arm.

“Stop.”

Ellie turns to you, cheeks hot.

Your chest thumps at her wet hair sticking to her face, the messiness of it all. The rosiness of her cheeks, the freckles that decorate her face. The visible skin of her waist, the water droplets rolling off, as she only wears her sports bra and a pair of baggy shorts. You notice the waistband sticking out underneath.

You shake the thought licking at your lips, “What did you mean by ‘don’t go?’”

You remove your hand.

Ellie rocks on her heels. “Are we still talking about this?”

You cross your arms. “Yes.” You swipe at your eyes. “Please.”

Ellie thinks for a moment, trying to find the words. “I just don’t think… Calum is the right person for you.” Ellie raises her eyes slowly, expecting a fight. “Okay?”

You take a breath. “And who would be my right person?”

Ellie pauses, her gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips. The heat rises in her cheeks, and her chest pounds so loudly that she wonders if you can hear it. Clamminess creeps into her palms, and the thought of passing out on the spot crosses her mind, but this might be her only chance to keep you,

"me."

A part of you wants to respond with "no" or "we're just friends; I have a fiancé," yet that part of yourself is rendered null as Ellie stands before you.

The other part screams, a surge of joy, jitters, and emotions. It’s almost a sigh of relief – the feeling you’ve harbored for years now reciprocated.

“Y/N,?” Ellie looks at you, concerned, but you reach forward.

“Shut up,” Holding her face between your hands, your lips meet in a feverish kiss. It’s every bit of love that has been locked away for years, pouring out.

The next thing you know, you're stumbling back towards her bedroom, hands moving, touching, and grabbing each other's skin. In the process, your lips move in unison. It’s messy, but it’s everything you could ever imagine it to be. Ellie kisses with a sense of authority and power, she’s obviously well mastered in the art.

Her tounge slides at your bottom and you gasp just as her muscular arms flex, and lift you onto her hips, “Fuck.”

You're even more impressed as she carries you to her bedroom.

Her foot slamming the door shut behind you.

#ellie williams #x reader #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x y/n

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lokativa · 1 year ago

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People calling Hobie×Miles (punkflower) shippers proshippers as if we didn't ship them for longer than the movie even came out will always be crazy to me.

I've seen lots of people sending threats, or reporting people because they made punkflower, goldenflower (pavxhobie), ghostbyte (gwenxmargo), flowerbyte (margoxmiles), etc, arts or videos. Going to assume that it isn't because most of these ships are POCs ships, there's just literally no point to do that.

First of all, there's no confirmation of hobie's age. If ur basing urself of that one interview, then it was of the CONCEPT of hobie, and even so remember it was only one person who said it. Its heavily implied thats he's a teenager throughout the movie. (Also in the art book, its said that he's slightly older than Miles).

For the thing about him going to the pub and all, minors can and will go in pubs, (not saying that its always legal) are yall living under a rock or just dense on purpose? Teenagers do wtv the fuck they want, even when theyre not allowed to. Youre all going to tell me teenagers respect the rules of not drinking and go to clubs becuz theyre underage? Come off it. Also hobie literally merked his president and u think he'd draw the line at drinking alcohol as a minor? HA.

Aside from that, to be fair to everyone, the directors keeps on changing what they're saying about hobies age, one day they'll say and imply he's a minor and the next second say he's an adult. It's like they all have different idea of this character's age. So, nothing is really comfimed, and his age is really up to interpretation.

Now that we're past THAT point, the other kind of people talking about his age are people saying "oh but he looks old" "that man is most definitely 30yo" "there's no way he's underage" things of the sort, u get it. And I'm just over here like??? Why is it impossible for you to think that this guy could be a teen? Is it the air? The wrinkles? What makes it seem like for you that there's no way he could be around the other teens' age? And 30??? Cmon. People often assume black people are older than they look, which is a universal experience for all of us. Did none of u ever see a blk teen who doesnt have a baby face? Because thats literally what hobie looks like to me. To others we can seem too "mature" for our age, or just look too "old" to be the age we say we are, so is it really impossible for him to be a teenager? Think about it.

(Speaking of him being black, this discourse turned into some kind of racist thing that honestly was not unexpected at all. Yall come over here shitting on people talking and educating u about a character they relate to cuz hes like them, and the representation is making them go bonkers. I don't know why yall can just sit ur arses and listen for a bit, its not that difficult tbh. And dont get me started on the mischaracterisation of his character. Marking him as "an angry black man"? Really? Be. Fucking. Original.)

Same goes with Margo?? Yeah in the comics she's in college, but cmon now u guys know damn well she's a teenager in atsv😭. Gwen is also much older in the comics but i never see anyone talk about it, so what does that mean???The only reasons I can see that you all don't want Miles & margo to be together is because you're all stuck on the milesxgwen ship. News everyone, other ships exist, not everyone is going to like the same ships as you, so either move on or stop being on the Internet.

Also, the thing about pav being 13 is bonkers, where'd u even get that from? I need to know asap. "Oh, but he has a gf!" Yeah? Well he has two hands. (Idk why u all act as if that has ever stopped anyone)

Everything just seem like a race thing to me tbh.

The movies might be inspired from the comics, but not everything is going to be 100% the same. For exemple: gwen is 2 yrs older than Miles in the comics, but in movies she's only 15 months older, Jess Drew is white in the comics and black in the movie, Miguel O'hara is white passing in the comics, compared to his version in atsv where he has brown skin, lyla's disign is also different.

You get it? Things are going to differ as much as things are going to be the same, because (get ready!!) this is the multiverse! Just as earth-616 is just one universe in all the marvel comics, atsv is another universe.

All in all, im not saying u can't view them as adults, or wtv u want, thats ur interpretation, but don't go around being pissy at people around u cuz they have different point of views.

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ilovefootballwrs · 5 months ago

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With Me Forever - Part |

A part of the So Long, London series.

Reader x Jessie Fleming

Based on a Norwegian song called "For Evig", by Chris Holstein.

"If that was all we got, was only a moment. Then it's with me forever. If it's the last night, and we'll never see each other again. Then it's with me forever."

..................

The news of Jessie's departure didn't shock me, I already knew about it long before the others. What shocked me was how far she was going, and everything went so fast. Soon she was going to be living almost a 10 hour flight from London, from me. I would never try to stop her, it wouldn't be fair, but at the same time the distance wouldn't be fair for either of us.

. . .

"It's so weird that it's Jessie's last day in London today. When is she leaving again?" Guro asked me. Guro was always like a big sister to me. We both play for Norway, and with her being a couple of years older than me, she basically watched me grow up and our bond grew into a sibling like friendship.

"Uhm...I think her flight leaves at midnight, so probably some time before that." I said with a sad smile on my lips.

"Listen, I know how hard this is for you. You know you can always come to me if there's anything wrong, right?" She asked with a look of concern on her face.

"So cliché." I laughed. "I know Guro, I will." I gave her a genuin smile. "I have to go now, I'm helping Jessie pack the rest of her stuff, bye!"

. . .

The feeling I'm feeling right now got to be the worst feeling on earth. Packing away her stuff for her to move away is the last thing I want to do. My heart clenches for every item I pack away.

I'm just placed the last of her items in the box when I hear footsteps behind me.

"It's much more emptier now." Jessie said as she went to sit on the bed.

I looked up at her. "Well, I guess you were the one that owned most of the stuff in here.

I stood up and went to sit beside her, putting head on her shoulder and interlocked our hands.

"I'm sorry for leaving" I could her the sadness in her voice. I took my head of her shoulder to look at her. Her cheeks were slightly more red than usual and she had tears in her eyes.

"Please don't cry, Jess." I put my hand on her cheek and continued to talk. "I don't blame you for leaving, I will never ever blame you. This is just something you have to do." I tried reassuring her.

"I'm still sorry. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you." The tears fell down her face and I could feel my eyes starting to tear up.

"I don't know either." I whispered. "I never wanted to lose you."

"You don't have to you know. You don't have to lose me." She said.

"Jess-" I started before getting interrupted by her.

"Y/N we, us, don't need to be over just because I'm leaving. Obviously I would never ask you to leave Chelsea for me, but we could do long distance." She said with a pleading look. "Please Y/N- don't let this be the end of us."

"I really wish it was that simple Jess, I really do, but I don't think I could do it. My heart couldn't take it Jess." At this point I was sobbing, not giving a care in the world. "I'm really sorry Jess, I really am."

. . .

We ended up spending the last couple of hours in each others arms before Niamh came to pick Jessie up. We both figured it was easier for the both of us if it was Niamh driving Jessie to the airport.

Niamh was sat in her car to give us space to say our goodbye. We hug before Jessie pulls away. "I'll always love you Y/N. No matter what happens, you will always be the love of my life."

She pulls me back in to give me a kiss. "Our memories will be with me forever, Jessie. As will my love for you." I tell her before she has to go.

I watch her get in the car and give her a wave and a smile when she's inside it. She returns the wave with a sad smile.

. . .

It's been two weeks since Jessie left. The two most horrible week. My whole routine has changed now that Jessie is gone. I don't wake up the smell of fresh coffee and a kiss anymore. I don't get to steal my favorite hoodie of hers anymore. I don't get the "I love you"s from her anymore. And there is no one to hold me in the nights anymore.

When vacuuming the bedroom, which Jessie usually used to do, I stumble across a box under the bed. It must've been Jessies. I pick it up and put it on the bed, while I also go to sit on the bed. I don't know what to do. Should I open it? Maybe she wouldn't want me to do that? Was that the reason for why it was under the bed? Because she didn't want me to find it? I thought about it for a while before thinking "What the hell." and opening it. The box was full of pictures. I recognized some of the pictures from being from our dates together, but most of them was just of me. It was literally just of me doing the most domestic things ever, like cooking or cleaning. I look through the pictures for a while before seeing a smaller box inside the box. I can feel my hands shaking as I go to pick up the box. I open the box and see the most gorgeous ring I've ever seen. I take it out of the box and try it on. It fits perfectly.

I immediately pick up the phone.

"In how long can you come over?" I ask.

………………….

A/N: The other parts of this series are going to be longer, this was just a start of it.

#jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso x reader #jflem #Spotify

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luna-loveboop · 3 months ago

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Wanted to share some thoughts, cause I NEED TO SHARE IT. (Though it might be quite obvious, yeah...)

So, the whole thing with Warriors acting more stern with Wild lately. One could think: "Why just Wild? Hyrule can be quite reckless sometimes, and Wind is THE BABY, so why not them too?"

Well, there's one thing that they don't have, but Wild sure does...luck of self-preservation.

Wars can trust that others, even IF they let emotions take over, would still try to avoid DYING.

WILD WILL NOT. This fella uses his FACE as a SHIELD for ANOTHER PERSON, when there's NO NEED FOR THIS, while being in his "right mind".

SO WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT OF HIM, WHEN HE LOOSES HIS MIND IN A STRESSFUL SITUATION?

Wars still gave him the benefit of the doubt for a while, but after this whole fiasco with Twi's injury - Wars just can not help it, he FEARS for Wild's well-being, because "Champ" himself DOES NOT (with his whole "failure of a hero" thing, I presume).

And how does one even adress it? I doubt Wars saw many people who didn't care about their life before, he was at war, usually people want TO SURVIVE there. He's on edge cause he sees a problem and has no idea how to aproach it.

I want to preface this by saying I have a severe inability to stay on topic but yeah let's talk about it.

So you touched on something me and Jesse have both touched on- that Wars' actions towards Wild come from a place of concern and fear. I think that this is true. Wild DOES lack self-preservation instincts, and Wars has to be afraid of losing him- of the young knight earning more scars. Wild can be an idiot sometimes, but Wars saw him lose his head and attack the shadow when it was just proved to be lethal more than they knew.

There's a difference of perspective between ours and the boys tho that is important and I think contributes to people judging wars for this. See, to Wars perspective, and all of the boys, they could die at any time. An injury could be fatal and they can't see the future. We however KNOW that Wild survives, because we know he goes on to tears of the kingdom. We know Jojo has said that he is reckless and will get himself hurt but always comes out of it. But Wars has watched a billion (<exaggeration) soldiers die and is terrified of it happening again. Whereas we watch the comic from the outside, knowing for certain Wild will make it, Wars is living out that reality harshly.

ANoThER thing I think people forget to account for is Wars is not just a captain, he's a soldier but also leader in an army. I'm not the best with phrasing sometimes so I'll try to say this well- people in the army don't always get to be nice. Oftentimes armies have very harsh environments in treatment towards soldiers because when it comes down to training and life and death there is no time for niceties or feelings. Wars was pushed into the most major promotion ever pretty much to be an army leader. If he's now in the mindset of viewing Wild as a fellow knight/soldier who is not a leader... angry words and facial expressions is pretty mild to be honest.

Wars is a really nice person for all he's gone through, but fighting in a war is a very different experience than a solo journey like the others had. I think it's time to acknowledge that he was forced into far more of a role than the pretty hero, but also an armies leader, and it takes a lot of work to be a nice person through all that. Wars is a nice person who has a ton of strength to be so kind after all he's been through and his actions towards Wild make sense considering his past with what journey he came from. Thank you for coming to my ted talk- no I'm not done.

If anything I said was in any way offensive let me know. I hope my words didn't somehow come across as harsh.

Although him (in a way) treating Wild as someone who is out of line is understandable given his past, it's still not excusable. Wild isn't a soldier and he's not the leader.

Now for Wild time I'm going totally of the rails let's go

Wild doesn't. Yeah ok Wild doesn't like Wars. I've made like. Fifteen thousand nine hundred and fifty two posts on this (<big exaggeration). Wild has not really... spoken to Wars throughout the Lu storyline, tho he did in some of Jojo's starting doodles. Wild has really only spoken to Wars since it all went down when mr. stubborn got injured. I think Wild has a lot of resentment towards Wars for being the knight he was supposed to- who succeeded. Wild has flat out ignored Wars a lot of the time and honestly I'd get pretty frustrated with that too.

Also I along with the other nine hundred people want Wars to trigger an army memory in Wild. For the angst.

Wars is wrong in how he's acting towards Wild and Wild is wrong in how he's treated Wars not as someone worthy of respect. It's hard to pinpoint what's going on in Wild's head but I DO know Wars thoughts- he's terrified for Wild's life and angry that he ignored him and fought the shadow.

But yeah you're right. Wild has no self preservation instincts and Wars can't rely on him to freaking stay alive. Thank you for sending me an ask and sharing your thoughts with me!!! You matter and I love hearing from you /gen <3

Also. Let's make this clear. I love Wars so much. So very much. He's literally a fairy godmother. No hating on him or Wild on my posts. Thank :D

#THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THE ASK AND LISTENING TO MY RANTS I WENT OTALLY OFF TOPIC #I have no idea if this makes sense I hope it did :/#linked universe #linkeduniverse #Lu wars #Lu wild #mr stubborn #asks #I like numbers only when I can be goofy with them #lunamikobrony2

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fangirlings-things · 2 years ago

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Being a part of the team would include headcanons

anon said: hello!! can I please request some headcanons where reader is a part of the fast and furious team and maybe even their reaction to finding out brian is a cop? thank you!!

A/N: heyy, love!! thank you for requesting, hope you like this, sorry for the long wait!

THIS IS SET IN THE FIRST MOVIE AND WITH THE ORIGINAL TEAM, WHILE BRIAN WAS WORKING UNDERCOVER

TAG LIST IS OPEN

You met Dom and Letty at a race night downtown

They like the respect you show others, treating them as equals despite whomever they were and of course, they like the way you drive

And so, they tell you to race with them

Although you lost to Dom, you did manage to beat Letty in a race, and she chuckles when you compliment her about her driving and says that you only won because of luck

She even tried to give you her car, as you two had bet, but you tell her to keep it. Your garage was too small for two cars anyway, and in that moment Dom decides he really likes you

He invites you to his house for a beer later on that day with them and some other friends, and you accept

Dom's house was quite welcoming. There were people entering and leaving through the front door and loud music came from the inside, as well as the smell of beers

Once inside, Dom and Letty gave you a Corona and introduced you to their team, their family

Jesse, Leon, Mia and Vince. They were all cool and welcomed you with taps on the shoulder and smiles, followed by laughing and congratulations when they heard you had beaten Letty on a race

After that day, you would often meet in races and enjoy some friendly time together

More and more, you started to get invited to their parties and family meals and when they told you to make the prayers one day before starting to eat, that's when you knew you had been completely and without a doubt accepted.

You were a part of their family now and as you had none ever since you were just a teen, you felt more than happy about having people to love and call yours

One year later, it felt like you had always been there with them, sharing almost every day and meal together. You had developed different relationships with all of them and yet, they all loved you and you loved them

Dom watched over you like a little sibling, always caring for your well being and making sure you were good. He deeply appreciated the time you spent in the garage together, fixing cars and drinking Coronas

Letty loves the fact that you are always up for anything she has in mind. Let's race? Sure, get in. Wanna grab a beer? Yeah, of course. Let's make some popcorn and watch a movie with the others in the living room? Turn on the TV, I'll grab the popcorn. You are very good friends, and that's special to her

Mia likes the fact that even though you run with the team and take part in all their dangerous doings, she has never seen you mistreating people or being violent without extreme necessity. Your heart is good, and she values that

Jesse feels comfortable enough around you to speak a lot about the functioning of the cars he is currently working on. You don't mind him sounding like a know-it-all, like the others sometimes do. He is very smart and gifted, and so you were very interested to know even a bit of what he knew

Leon enjoys your company for practically everything but what he likes the most, is when you and him go to the races together in the same car when you do not intend to run on that night and you keep watch over the police radio together while the others run. He used to do it alone all the time and to have a company for it, comment the races and compliment other people's cars, just makes him feel really good

Vince was a bit distant in the beginning. Not because he didn't like you, but that's just the way he is with strangers. He warmed up little by little to you and finally, after some months where racing and drinking together became a thing to you both, you came to the conclusion that you could finally call him a friend

Things went perfectly, you felt much better than when you lived all alone across the city and on top of that, you were all making really good money with the truck robbery's

And then, Brian came

The first few times you saw him eating those horrible sandwiches, you knew he was there just because of Mia. You teased her a lot about it, and she just rolled her eyes at you

Vince didn't like him at all, and more than once you had stopped him from just going and beating the blond right then and there

When Brian started racing with you and getting invited to the house, you were friendly with him, because that had been you in his place not so long ago

You liked the guy, even though he was most of the time too reckless for his own sake

You became friends too, and he would come to you to ask questions about things he didn't understand or about the others

And you casually tell him over a few beers in the porch, just enjoying the breeze and laughing together

When you found out he was a cop, you felt extremely betrayed

Because you had been the one to tell him a lot of the things he knew about the team and guilt consumed you

Also, he had been tricking Mia, and you loved her like a sister

You couldn't look him in the eye, couldn't believe he had been faking all that time you spent together, racing together

He wasn't your friend, he was just a cop doing undercover work

And that hurt you a great deal not just because he had hurt you

But also, because he had hurt your family

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #headcanons #fast and furious #fast and furious imagine #fast and furious fanfic #fast and furious headcanons #dominic toretto #letty ortiz #brian o'conner #vince #mia toretto #leon #jesse

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shartletswritings · 6 days ago

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You've Dug Your Own Grave

CHAPTER 5: New Normal

TW: Violence, Smexual Content ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Yet again, I'm up too late writing. I don't think I'll ever be 100% satisfied with this chapter, but I need to get it out so I don't rip my skin off in an attempt to make it perfect. Please enjoy!!!

You didn’t speak the next morning. Actually, you haven’t spoken to Scar in the past twelve days, not that you’re counting or anything. In his defense, he tried. You just… can’t bear it. And besides, there is nothing to talk about. You have lived your whole life without him, and you see no reason why that should have to change.

You woke up the next morning with a skull-splitting headache and only a distant memory of what happened the previous night. It took a cold shower, fresh clothes, and meeting Scar’s eyes from where he sat in the corner of the mess hall for the events to come rushing right back to your mind. To say it was mortifying would be the understatement of the century.

If you had just been drunk in front of him, you would have been fine. But the fact he had to carry you back to your room? Not to mention him seeing your branding. Sure, you didn’t tell him what it meant, but it would take some special kinda idiot to not recognize the markings of the Hush Company.

When you saw him the next morning, the blood in your veins turned to ice. You could hardly handle looking at him and the thought of having a conversation about what had transpired the previous night made your stomach roll worse than it already had been thanks to your hangover. It was honestly a miracle you didn’t throw up when he stood to talk to you. Instead of handling the situation like an adult probably would, you ran. And that is exactly how you have spent the last twelve days: doing exactly everything besides speaking to that annoying, brooding man who seems to possess the uncanny ability to be exactly where you need to be.

It’s not like you’ve sat around and done nothing, of course. You’ve been busy. Busier than you think you have been in your whole life. Since that night you’ve been on two more raids, spent four nights on guard duty with Malia, had only two more panic attacks, and even helped out in the kitchen: which turned out to be a lot more fun than you expected. You’re doing just fine, thank you very much. You have no need to bare your soul or fight your demons. Not even Ekko pressures you again, although you don’t think it’s because Scar told him not too, he just knows better than to push you by now.

Really, besides the complete lack of a problem that is Scar, things have been going well. You get along with the other Firelights, they respect your ability to get things done and you respect their ability to—for the most part—stay out of your business; it’s a pretty good deal. Both raids you went on proved to be incredibly successful, a large part thanks to your ability to get intel without getting caught. Chross would probably be impressed if you weren’t actively destroying a major pillar of the oligarchy he runs.

The first job was nowhere near as easy as your first, but you completed it with far less hiccups. The documents you swiped out of the office of both the warehouse and the factory led to your third raid; a caravan with a shipment full of shimmer headed out of Zaun. Even Eve was willing to sing your praise after the shipment went up in flames; there was no denying your asset to the Firelights. And what do you do with all of this fame and glory? You… hang out with Jess and the kids in the nursery.

You would probably never admit it to anyone, but you fucking love those kids. Even when they’re snotty or whiney or sticky or smelly; something about them brings you more joy than any dose of shimmer or shot of stupidly expensive booze ever could. It also helps that Jess, to her absolute unending credit, makes no snide remarks about your ability to fight and she never asks you about your past.

And that is exactly how you find yourself, surrounded by a gaggle of toddlers who are completely enamored by the fairytale you are reading. It’s a story of a princess reuniting with her long-lost family. Pretty boring, and not nearly enough dragon slaying as far as you’re concerned. “Tell us about your mommy, Pip,” a voice interrupts. You look down at her with a pathetic lack of authority.

“Sorry kiddo, I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Actually, there is nothing to talk about; you were given to the company before you were old enough to remember your parents.

“Pleaseeee?” You roll your eyes playfully so as not to hurt her feelings.

“My mommy lives very far away, so I don’t get to see her that often.” Why do they have to ask you things? Can’t they just listen to the damn story?

Mercifully, they seem to be satisfied with your lackluster answer. “So you’re like the princess?”

You smile, processing the question. “Yeah… I guess I am,” you finally say. A wave of ooohs reverberates from the crowd. You continue the book.

It ends happily, the princess marries a handsome prince or something, you aren’t really paying attention. And from the drooping eyelids surrounding you, neither are they. It’s amazing how fast they get sleepy, just five minutes ago they were bouncing off the walls.

Jess walks over, Aster in hand, to put them down for a nap. The two of you have developed a routine of sorts. You come in around lunch time, play with the toddlers for a bit, and then when Jess goes to get them down for their nap, you get to spend time with Aster—probably the real reason you are willing to suffer through all the sticky fingers and redundant questions.

She coos up at you from your arms and it takes everything in you not to melt into a puddle on the floor. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself a baby expert, but you have certainly gotten more confident in holding her, although she helped a lot on that front. Ever vocal despite her lack of words, Aster is the first to tell you if she’s uncomfortable or hungry or tired, and you love her for it. Honestly, everyone should try to be a bit more like her. Just say what you want and get on with it, I should probably heed my own advice. Nope! The list. That’s the other thing keeping you sane, the two things you can’t let yourself think about: Scar and the Hush Company.

“You are a goddamn angel, and I don’t know where you get it from,” you say to the small chirean in your arms. She smiles at you, big ears twitching. You put a finger down to touch her perfectly pink nose when she surprises you with a bite to the finger. “Motherfucker!” You yelp before you can remind yourself to be quiet. Jess shoots you a look from over by the kids and you mouth a silent apology. You turn your head back down to Aster, “What the hell was that for, girl?” She laughs like she’s mocking you. Maybe she is her dad’s kid after all. Damn, it’s hard to stay mad at a face that cute.

“She’s started teething,” Jess says once she’s returned from toddler-land, “and her teeth are sharp. Aren’t they?” Her voice turns to a sing-songy coo and scoops Aster back out of your arms. It doesn’t get easier, letting her go. “He’ll be back soon,” she says, looking back to you.

“Right.” You haven’t told Jess any specifics, but she picked up pretty quick that you have no interest in seeing Scar. “Thanks for letting me crash again, Jess, I really appreciate it.”

She waves her hand as if dismissing the notion entirely, “Oh please, the kids love seeing you. You’re basically a routine now.”

It’s nice, you think as you leave the nursery and make your way to the training room, to be in a good mood for once. Maybe a boring, routine life was what you needed this whole time. Not that burning down shimmer factories was the most banal thing you could be doing, but by undercity standards you may as well be a nun.

You do find out, however, that a workout with the intent of training is a hell of a lot more boring than a workout to blow off steam. But at least you can focus on your form, which has improved drastically. Maybe I couldn’t take down Scar in a fi- “NO!” You verbally cut off that train of thought because it so incredibly doesn’t matter. Focus on your movements, you remind yourself and soon enough, the only thought crossing your mind is the ritualized, prescribed movements of boxing. That’s a good thought. It’s safe, it doesn’t change. Left-right-left, hook, kick. You could do this all day.

And you probably would have too, if that fucking door hadn’t opened. Honestly, it’s like he wakes up every morning with the sole purpose of making you as miserable as possible. “If you’re going to critique my form again, you might as well fuck off now. I’m not in the mood.” You don’t even need to turn to know it’s Scar.

He ignores you. “How long are you planning on avoiding me? Avoiding your problems?”

You don’t turn from the punching bag, determined to not let him ruin your workout again. “I’m not avoiding you and I don’t have any problems.” The punches are beginning to hurt but you’ll be damned if you stop now. The sharp thuds echo through the small, concrete room and Scar is so silent you could almost pretend he isn’t here. Almost.

“Bullshit,” he finally says, “I know what the branding means.”

“Good for you.” I’m not engaging I’m not engaging I’m not engaging. Every thought is punctuated with another punch. You’re going to bruise tomorrow.

“I should have told Ekko the second I saw it,” his tone is serious, but you doubt he would.

“Sounds like that’s your fault. It’s none of your business anyways.”

“Kirr-” he starts. You cut him off before he can finish.

“That’s not my fucking name.” To his credit, he does shut up for a moment. You picture his face as you hit the bag in front of you.

“You can’t live like this.” He almost sounds concerned, but it does nothing to douse the rage burning in your gut. Sweat sings as it drips down into your eyes, but you can’t be bothered to wipe it away. You think that if you stop moving for even a moment you’ll combust.

“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life, Scar. Fuck you.” You send the bag careening on your final hit. The chain makes an awful screech and you leave before you do something you regret—not that you could realistically hurt him in your current state but hey, a girl can dream. So much for not engaging.

You walk straight into Ekko as you storm out of the training room. He puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Woah, you okay?” His eyes search yours.

The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth as you physically bite down on your tongue to keep from cursing the man in front of you out. Ekko has done nothing wrong. I am the problem here. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

He looks unconvinced. “Right… Well, we just got word of a huge shipment leaving tonight and we gotta act fast. I need you there, okay?” Ever polite, he phrases it as a question which would probably be endearing if you weren’t seconds away from ripping out your hair.

“’Course”

You move to continue walking back towards your room when he calls your name, “Whatever is going on between you and Scar, the two of you need to fix it. It’s becoming a problem.”

You nod but refuse to turn around—unable to handle the shame of meeting his eyes again. He’s right, of course, but you hate having to be told it in the first place.

Waiting for the shower to heat up, you stand in front of the mirror. How has one man reduced you into such a fucking child? You are a godsdamned adult, you have been through hell and back and survived, and yet one stupid crush has turned you into a wet blanket. Not a crush.

“You are better than this. Pull. Yourself. Together.” You say into the mirror as you stare at your red, sweaty face. It doesn’t really work but it does snap you out of the spell of all consuming anger.

After a shower you feel marginally better, and the rage has simmered down to a much more manageable bitterness. Yes, Scar is a dick for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, but he clearly hasn’t told anyone anything and there is no real reason why he should. That also means that you have no reason to do anything besides your one job for today: stop that shipment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun is well set by the time you meet in the courtyard with the small group handpicked by Ekko to go with him on tonight’s job. You’re right in the middle of psyching yourself up for what’s to come when Ekko finally arrives with Scar. Of course he’s coming tonight.

Actually, you’re quite impressed with yourself that you don’t even glance in his direction as Ekko lays out the plan for the night. You couldn’t even say if he looks at you, that’s how little you care.

“Thing’s might go south tonight,” he explains as your group walks down the now familiar tunnels out of the hideout, “if that happens, don’t come back here immediately, we can’t risk anyone following us back. Malia is waiting in the safehouse near the market on the wharf, so if anything happens, go there, okay?”

It concerns you slightly that Ekko seems so worried. From what you can tell, this job sounds pretty easy. Get in, burn the shimmer, get out. Maybe take down a few of Silco’s thugs while you’re at it. It all sounds very standard, but no one voices a concern, so you keep your mouth shut. Once you exit the tunnel, the five of you mount your hoverboards and take off towards the far end of the wharf.

The waiting is always your least favorite part and being near the water only makes it worse. The stench of rotting fish and muddy silt assaults your nostrils as you sit crouched behind a stack of boxes—your mask does absolutely nothing to minimize the smell, unfortunately. You glance at the soldier keeping a look out from a nearby building and adjust yourself slightly to try and soothe a cramping leg. Maybe putting all of your strength into your workout this morning wasn’t the best idea, but it isn’t like you were expecting this job.

Suddenly, a high whistle grabs your attention and you peek over the boxes and towards the dock. Sure enough, a small barge cresting with shimmer barrels creeps slowly over the water. Ekko nods and you step into your boards before zipping silently towards the ship.

A man sitting near the bow calls as soon as he sees the green and soon several guards rush up from below deck. There’s a lot more that you were expecting. It must be at least twelve of them and you fight back the terror bubbling up in your veins.

Scar is the first to land, throwing his board over his back and going straight towards the biggest man, spear in hand. Fucking show off. The man lasts about thirty seconds to the chirean before he collapses onto the deck. You suppose it isn’t really showing off if he gets the job done as quick as he does.

You land next to Ekko and take out your knife as soon as your feet hit the wood. Sure, maybe your pistol would be a stronger choice, but in the fog of the night, you don’t trust your aim as much as usual.

A tall, lanky man whips around as soon as he hears you and holds a shotgun wildly in front of himself, but you’ve run out of his field of vision before he can get a good look at you. Creeping onto a barrel, you wait until he’s fully turned the other way to jump onto his back. He doesn’t get the chance to buck you off before your blade slices across his neck. If your position had been a bit better, maybe you could have avoided getting blood on your shirt, but you suppose that it’s been through worse than some goon’s blood, so you wipe the blade on your opposite sleeve and look around you at the commotion on the ship.

Ekko has already begun sloshing fuel around the ship and most of the guards are disposed of in one way or another. You decide to do one quick survey of the ship to see if there is anything worth taking when you notice the entrance leading below deck. It sounds silent under there and you can’t imagine someone would have stayed under after hearing all the fighting up top. Still, you creep down the wooden steps, keeping your back against the wall and your profile low.

A lantern swings from the ceiling of the small room, illuminating it with a soft orange glow. There isn’t much to see, however, besides a couple of tables set up with cards and a chest off in the corner. You kneel down in front of the chest and start working at the lock, but it’s nearly rusted shut. Realistically, you should probably let it go and get the hell off the ship before they light the whole thing on fire, but you let your curiosity get the better of you.

The lock finally snaps open and you push the heavy lid up. So invested in discovering what’s inside, you don’t hear the woman come up behind you until she has already fired her gun. Without thinking, you whip around and pull your own pistol out of the holster, not hesitating even for a moment before pulling the trigger. She stumbles back, a hand going to her stomach, before collapsing to the floor, her breath coming out in shallow heaves. You look down at yourself, amazed she didn’t hit you when you notice the blood seeping through your pants. You stare at your leg in disbelief, shouldn’t you feel that?

Footsteps clatter down the stairs and you shoot your gaze up, holding your pistol ready. You look up to see Eve’s mask. “We need to go.” She holds a lighter in her hand and you nod, running after her. The first steps you take feel no different than usual, but by the time you’ve made it back to the deck of the ship, pain begins to radiate from the wound on your leg.

You have no choice but to grit your teeth and bare it because as soon as you are out of the small hold, Eve is flicking her lighter open. You scramble for your discarded hoverboard and take off after the other green lights you see flitting through the haze of the fog. It is a lot harder to balance with a fucked-up leg, you quickly find, and you nearly careen into a building several times before you manage to right yourself. No one says anything about your lack of coordination, but they’re all a bit more focused on fleeing the scene themselves.

A small huddle of soldiers forms in the air a few blocks from the wharf and you have to throw your arms out for balance to keep from tipping directly off of your board. Your leg screams at you, but you ignore it.

“Everyone okay?” Ekko’s modulated voice asks. A round of nods from your group. “Good. I think we’re done here. Eve, go get Malia from the safe house and the rest of you, go back to the base. I don’t think there is anyone left to follow us back but take separate routes just in case.”

You sure as shit don’t need to be told twice. By the time he finishes his words, you’re already zipping off, determined to get back to the hideout without fainting, thank you very much.

And considering the circumstances, you do pretty well. After a circuitous route through the undercity, you make it all the way to the entrance of the tunnel before your leg finally gives out. Despite the extra time it took to go separately, you’re glad no one is there to see you slump against the wall beside the opening.

You hiss as your back hits the cold stone and you slowly lower yourself to the ground as you press one hand against the bleeding section of your leg. In the green light of the sumps you take in the damage. It looks like a graze from a bullet. A bad one, sure, but you thank the gods the lead didn’t manage to imbed itself into the flesh of your thigh.

You push stuck on hair away from your sweaty forehead and tear a sleeve from your jacket. Biting down on your lip, you tie the fabric around the wound, just tight enough to stop the bleeding until you can get back to your room. Yeah, maybe you should take a little more care into treating the weeping laceration on your thigh, but you sure as hell aren’t going to do it on the muddy, stinking ground of the sumps. So you hop back onto your board—careful to put as much weight as you reasonably can on your good leg without crashing—and continue down the tunnel.

It takes longer than it should to get back, sure, but you get back alive and in mostly one piece. The hideout is quiet once you shove open the heavy stone door blocking the entrance and lay your hoverboard against the wall. Green lights zip around you from the firelights and nearly every lantern is lit: the courtyard looks like something out of the fantasy books in the nursery. Wish I could appreciate it for once, you grumble to yourself as you start the trek from the entrance to your quarters.

You almost make it all the way to the door built into the wall when Scar calls your name, “What happened?”

You stand up straight, careful to put an equal amount of weight on both legs despite the spasms of pain that blur the edges of your vision. “Nothing.”

He takes a couple steps closer. “You’re bleeding.” His voice is sharp, and he cuts you off before you can protest, “Don’t lie to me. You’re limping and you have your jacket tied around your leg,” he snarls

“I’m fine,” you bite back. The door opens with a squeak, and you continue limping down the hallway to your room. The thump of his boots follows you. “I don’t need your help.”

He, as usual, says nothing and keeps walking behind you.

You make it to your door before you finally turn to look at him. “Okay, I’m bleeding. But I’m fine, just fucking drop it, Scar.” He meets your gaze down his nose with cold, green eyes and continues to say absolutely nothing. You scowl and open your door, throwing your mask on the bed. In a burst of rage, you go to slam the door shut but his toe blocks the doorway. “I don’t need you to save me,” you hiss, leaning your weight against the door.

Claws wrap around the door, “I’m not going to save you, idiot. No one here wants to save you. Let me in, or I’m going to break down this fucking door.” His voice is dangerously low.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking bleeding. I could smell it the second you walked in the hideout.” What the fuck? “A wound like that’ll get infected in a second. Now, let. Me. In.”

“Yeah, and I can handle it!” Your voice is rising, too loud for the cramped hallways. With a loud sigh you take your weight off of the door and let it fly open, revealing a very angry Scar. “Fine, just shut up.”

He closes the door behind himself. Which is what anyone would do. This is fine. You do your absolute best to not let your nerves show. “Well? You can see I’m not dying, ready to leave yet?” You look down at your throbbing leg, the sleeve tied around it has turned from a light gray to a deep black. Scar doesn’t move, he only gazes down at you with crossed arms and a stern look on his face.

“Let me see it.” With a roll of your eyes, you untie the shitty field bandage to reveal the rip in your pants that only barely covers the graze wound.

Getting impatient at his lack of reaction, you stumble into the bathroom and yank your first-aid kit from the shelf above the toilet and begin ripping supplies out. You see Scar looming in the bathroom doorway from the small mirror and shoot him a scowl. “Look, I have everything I need, you can go now.”

“I’m not leaving till you’re patched up.” Gods, he’s fucking impossible. You let out an exasperated noise and hop onto the counter, a bottle of alcohol in hand.

You uncap the bottle and tip it slowly over the wound, a cry of pain escaping your lips at the sting despite your best efforts. You can’t clean a wound like this, but you are not about to ta-

“Take them off.” You whip your head up, a ferocious snarl on your face. This bastard. He just looks at you. “Take them off or I’ll cut them off.”

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” you quip, earning a glare from Scar. This is not fine, I can’t keep pretending this is normal and fine.

You know he’s right, that’s the worst part about it. You slide off the counter and undo your belt, slowly rolling your blood-stained pants down your leg, trying desperately not to think about the man standing in front of you. The fabric pulls away from the wound and it is with an excruciating amount of self-control that you don’t scream at the feeling. You let the fabric drop to the floor—leaving you in nothing but your half-torn shirt and panties—and sit back on the counter, keeping your eyes trained on the wound and not on Scar.

It’s actually a lot worse than you thought it was, the angry, red gash stretches at least three inches across your leg and is easily half that in width. Blood seeps from the wound in a steady trickle and you wipe at it with your remaining sleeve. You pick the bottle of alcohol back up and tip it enough for a drop to come out and fall onto the bloodied skin. FUCK. You bite down on your hand to keep from crying out and you nearly knock the bottle onto the floor, the other hand hovering uselessly over your leg.

With a huff, Scar picks it up and pushes your hand out of the way. “Let me do it,” he mumbles before sloshing the evil, burning liquid onto your thigh. You can’t even think about his proximity to your half naked form because as soon as the alcohol hits your skin, your vision goes white and you dig your nails into the opposite leg. “I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” comes his voice, soft and gentle over your pathetic whimpering. If you were in any less pain, the uncanny gentleness in his voice would probably send heat straight to your cheeks. Unfortunately, you’re a bit more focused on the blinding pain.

Your fingers begin to cramp, and you pull them away from your leg, leaving small, red welts in the flesh. Like the bullet wound wasn’t enough. Scar says nothing as he wets a clean cloth and begins wiping away the blood from the surrounding skin, his fingers surprisingly gentle. You can’t take this much longer, and in desperation you take the bottle and swallow the remaining alcohol, much preferring the burn in your throat to the lingering burn on your leg. He sighs, “You don’t need stitches,” thank the gods, “but you were stupid to let this happen and even stupider to wait this long to deal with it.”

He starts to wrap a clean bandage around your leg, one hand cupped under your knee to hold it over above the counter. “Right, I’m so sorry. I should have stripped in the middle of the sumps and begged a shimmer addict for some booze. I’ll do better next time,” you spit back sarcastically, fixing your eyes on his dark hair.

He glares up at you for a second. “You know that isn’t what I meant. You should have told someone that you were fucking shot. It doesn’t make you weak to ask for help, it makes you stupid to say nothing.”

You rest your head against the mirror with a thud. “I didn’t need help.”

“For gods sake, Kirranari, you can’t keep doing that. People don’t want to watch you suffer.” He finishes wrapping your leg and begins tying a knot, tightening the bandage to the point of pain. You wince despite yourself.

“I didn’t ask to be the Firelight’s charity case.”

A fist slams down on the counter, and you jump. “Is that what you think this is? You think Ekko took you in because we felt bad?” He meets your eyes finally and you can see the rage burning just below the surface. “Get over yourself, we wanted you because you would be an asset.” His words sting almost as badly as the alcohol. You blink and look away, desperate to not let the tears forming in the corner of your eyes fall. “You aren’t a basket case, and you aren’t property anymore,” his hand grips the branding on your wrist, “you’re a fucking firelight, start acting like it.”

“Why are you here, then. Why not send Malia or Ekko or anyone else?” Your voice is scarcely above a whisper.

His hand grips your chin and forces you to meet his eyes, you force yourself to glare because the alternative is crying like a godsdamn child. The rage is still there but muted by something else… something you haven’t seen since that night he carried you back to your bed. “Because I care,” his grip turns bruising and his tone is still just as harsh.

“Why?” You bite back.

He just… stares, dark green eyes searching yours and claws still curled around your chin, distorting your lips as they press into your cheek. He is silent for so long; you actually begin to worry you’ve offended him somehow. And then he crushes his lips into yours.

You think your brain actually short-circuits, not expecting the kiss even in the slightest. As much as you hate to admit it, it feels right. The urgency of his lips pressing into your plush, unexpecting ones. The hand on your chin begins to creep up until it is cupping against your cheek. Your own hand raises up to tangle itself in his hair. He moans almost imperceptibly.

Despite every fiber of your being telling you not to, you pull away, just enough to look at him. His eyes search yours again but this time they look almost… nervous? “Why?” You repeat.

His brows furrow slightly, “Because your strong and stubborn and even though you drive me fucking crazy with how stupid you are, I can’t seem to keep myself away.”

That’s enough for me, you think, and you press your lips into his once more. A second hand moves to wrap around your waist and you arch into him, spreading your legs on the counter enough so he can stand between them. Sharp teeth nip into your lower lip and you have to surpress the shiver running down your spine. With a sigh, you open your lips, letting him slip his tongue into the wet heat of your mouth.

A wanton moan erupts from your chest at the taste of him; it is everything that is so intoxicating about his smell, multiplied by 1000. I could get used to this.

Breaking the kiss, he begins to trail a line of nips and kisses down your neck, earning soft, horribly embarrassing noises from your mouth. You feel him smile against your neck, asshole. Carding the fingers of your other hand through his hair, you pull, hard. His breath stutters and he dips his head to look up at you. You smirk down at him and he responds with his own, devilish smile, the pupils in his eyes blown wide with lust.

You realize, through the haze of desire, that he is slowly making his way to his knees in front of you. “Mmm no-” you call and he stops, immediately, looking up at you. “I need a shower or somethin’” You can’t imagine you smell even close to appetizing after all the bleeding and sweating from the day.

His hands dig into your hips and shakes his head, “No. I need to taste you… to smell you. Just like this. Please?”

If you weren’t already sitting, you probably would have fallen over at the sight of Scar, on his knees in front of you, begging for a chance to taste you on his tongue. You nod at him, jaw going slack already. He doesn’t wait another moment before ripping your panties down and pulling your ass closer to the edge of the counter.

He doesn’t begin immediately, like you expected him to with how desperate he was. Instead, he buries his face directly at your slit, nose pressing against the short curls, and inhales. “Wha-” you look down at him in horror.

“Fuck. You smell…” another inhale, “do you know how badly I wanted to fuck you on the floor of the gym that day? Your smell, I couldn’t hold myself back…” Your mouth goes dry, and it physically hurts to part your lips.

You think back to the day in the gym, when he let you win… he had… wanted you? And I thought I had disgusted him. Just before you can say something witty—which you totally could have, for the record—his tongue flattens against your clit and every single thought leaves your mind.

He consumes you like a dying man offered a last meal. It barely even feels like he’s doing it for your pleasure, even if it feels better than anything you have ever experienced. The nips and licks and sucks, it’s for him, you realize. You don’t even feel the need to mute yourself with how fucking loud Scar is being. With the reverence he holds for you and the skill in which he tastes you, it isn’t long until that coil deep in your core begins to tighten. “’m close,” you moan breathlessly.

Your hands in his hair tighten as you feel yourself nearing your peak and he only doubles his efforts. Tongue diving into your cunt with reckless abandon. You don’t even realize that his hand left your waist until you feel his thumb pressed against your clit. You last about twenty more seconds before you come apart completely, vision going white and cunt squeezing desperately around his tongue. His own muffled groan of pleasure nearly drowning out your soft mewls.

By the time your vision returns, he is cupping your face tenderly, brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Your mouth opens and closes several times dumbly, but you honest to goodness have no words for what you just experienced. “I…” you finally choak out, voice hoarse, “I need more.” It’s not entirely true, you could probably die happy just from the feeling of him feasting on your cunt, but you’ll be damned if you can’t at least try and reduce him to a similar state of fuck-drunk.

He grins like a shark and kisses you again. You groan at your taste on his tongue. Gently, his large hands come around to cup under the swell of your ass, lifting you gently and pressing you against his body. He is immensely careful of your leg, but you don’t think you could care even if the whole fucking thing fell off.

He lays you down on your bed and you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, deciding immediately that he has far too much clothing on his body. He seems to notice the hunger in your eyes and begins unfastening the clips of his vest, tossing it to the side once it is off. The rest of his—and your own—clothing soon follows, leaving him in nothing but a pair of boxers and you completely naked before him. He stands, drinking you in for much longer than you’d like. He chuckles darkly as you squirm under his gaze before eventually relenting and lowering himself on top of you.

Immediately, you reach behind his back and pull his body flush to yours and you’re honestly surprised his skin isn’t fucking steaming with how hot it is. As his hips begin to settle down onto your uninjured thigh you freeze when you feel a heavy weight rest on your skin, separated only through a thin layer of fabric; all the blood that had been rushing to your head redirecting itself towards your core. Is that him?

A hand snaked between your bodies and a gentle but firm squeeze confirms that it is him. It wasn’t visible in the low light of your room, but Scar is fucking massive. Your breath hitches in time with his and you worry for a second that he won’t even fit in you, but his hot breath against your ear zaps all ability to form coherent thought. “You gonna let me fuck you? Or do I have to beg again?”

You bite at a lip to stifle your moan, “Mmm, I wouldn’t complain to hear you beg again.” He laughs and captures your lips once more in his own, tongue pressing into yours with the same feverish urgency. “Fuck me,” you moan into his mouth. He smiles against your lips.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” his boxers are off in an instant, leaving him completely bare over you. He begins to bite into your neck again.

“’s not fair. I can barely see you,” you whine ungracefully; you barely got a chance to see him.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he murmurs against your skin. A hand appears in front of your face, “Lick it,” he says. You comply immediately. The lewd sounds of him working your spit over his cock fill the room and you squirm again, clenching around nothing and desperate to be filled.

“Hurry up,” you are almost completely breathless under him.

“So impatient,” he muses, eyes shining green despite the lack of light in the room. He lines the tip of his cock against your wet, hungry slit, a breath escaping from his softly parted lips.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he begins to enter you and… holy fuck. You feel like you’re being split open beneath him, and you bite down against the skin of his shoulder to keep from crying out and waking the whole floor of soldiers. His breathing is ragged once he sheaths himself completely in you, a hand landing next to your head to keep himself propped up. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” You clench unconsciously around him; he nearly chokes, “Uh… fuck…” a breathless, almost pained laugh erupts from his chest, “I won’t be able to hold myself back much longer if you keep doing that, Kir.”

You dig your nails into his back in an effort to tell him to fuck me as hard and as fast as you want because words aren’t the easiest to form right now. He gets the message, thank the gods.

He pulls nearly all of the way out of you before ramming back in, filling you farther than you thought possible. You hook your heels behind his back and hold on desperately as he begins to fuck into you so quickly you can scarcely breathe. Desperate cries begin to spill from your lips and he clamps a hand over your mouth, never once breaking the rhythm of his thrusts. “You want the whole hallway to hear me fucking you?” He bites into your ear and you moan his name against his hands.

Everything begins to get overwhelming and you can do nothing but sit there and take it, the jackhammer of his dick into the back wall of your cunt, his smell filling the room, the weight of his hand on your mouth, his taste mixed with yours still on your tongue. Every inch of your being consists of Scar and you fucking love it. That same coil begins to tighten in your gut and you curl your toes, bearing down on him again as he continues to fuck into you. His breath is ragged and heavy in your ear. Fuck, what you wouldn’t give to be able to scream his name like he deserves.

His own rhythm begins to stutter and you can tell from the way his breath becomes hotter in your ear that he’s just as close as you are. Suddenly, his hand is ripped away from your mouth. “K-kir, mmm not gonna- ah – last much longer. Where?” It’s clear how much it strains him just to ask the question, but the movement of his hips doesn’t stop; you understand that it can’t stop, if he feels anything close to how you feel.

“Inside. Safe.” You blurt out before kissing him hard. His thrusts speed up and the sound of it is obscene. While he is being very respectful to your neighbors by keeping you quiet, the sound of wet skin slapping echos through the room at a volume that makes his attempt to keep quiet laughable.

He bites into your neck as he comes, moaning your name—your real name—against your skin. At the first pulse of his dick, your own coil snaps, and you dig your nails into his back and shake uncontrollably against his body, unable to do anything but feel him.

You sit like that for several minutes, his dick still buried deep inside you, and your cunt pulsing lazily around him, as if in an attempt to milk out whatever last drops of cum he has left. Finally, he pulls out of you with a hiss and flops onto his back next to you. Before you can even more to face him, his arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest to lay on top of him.

“I still think you’re an ass, just so you know,” you say quietly into the silence of the room.

His chest shakes softly as he chuckles. “And I still think you’re stubborn and stupid most of the time.”

“But I guess it wouldn’t kill me to accept a bit of help. Every now and then. And only from you.” You twist your body so your head is tucked under his chin and he angles himself to kiss the top of your head.

He sighs but you feel him smile against your hair. “I know you’ve been seeing Aster,” he says after a moment of silence.

You sit up, straddling his chest, “What?”

He looks up at your wild, fucked out hair and laughs, “You aren’t nearly as sneaky as you think you are.”

You look at him incredulously, “But… Jess told me she wouldn’t tell…”

He rolls his eyes, “She told me after the first day you went over. You think I’d be willing to put her with someone that wouldn’t tell me exactly what she did all day?” He cocks an eyebrow.

You twist your lips, suddenly embarrassed. “I just…”

He laughs softly, “I told her to let you see her every day because I wanted you to see her every day. It was cute.”

You scoff at him, pressing your hands into his shoulders to push him into the bed, “It wasn’t cute! I was pissed at you, and you were basically stalking me,” you scowl in mock irritation.

He sits up, gripping your ass to adjust you more comfortably against his lap, “You talk a big game for someone who’s leaking my cum all over her bedsheets.”

You glare at him and stomp off to the bathroom to clean up. Your reflection in the mirror nearly scares you into a scream. He found you hot while you looked like this? You run a quick brush through your hair and then turn the shower on. Scar’s voice carries into the bathroom, “Don’t you dare shower.”

You peek your head out of the bathroom to look at him sprawled on your bed, still damp with sweat. “I stink and I’m covered in blood, Scar.”

“I know. Come back to bed.”

You roll your eyes. As much as you want to shower, the undeniable call of exhaustion pulls you back to bed and into his arms. He seems much too satisfied with himself as he wraps his body around your smaller frame, tucking your head under his chin.

Sleep captures you much faster than you were anticipating, and you are awake just long enough to hear him say, “We still need to talk tomorrow,” before passing out, safely cocooned in his presence.

They boned!!! Oh Em GEE This chapter took me wayyyy too long to write and I would like to thank Massive Attack's entire discography for getting me though it. LMK what yall think! Also, on a real note, it makes my heart so full to see all of your comments, I have never had this much support for a fic and it makes me so unbelievably happy. Thank you guys for always making my day <333 TAG LIST: @honeym0chi @radflapkidsludge @bearinthesnow @mcaats @ariwolfsstuff @bakugokatsuki18-blog @calciferthelivingfire @kiannaf @veggiesoupdumpling @awenthealchemist

#arcane #arcane x reader #league of legends x reader #fanfic #scar #scar x reader #scar arcane x reader #scar arcane #smut

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eightstarr · 1 year ago

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omg hello my favorite writer!

now that we know how doctor abby x reader, we gotta know the lore with loser!ellie <333

hello my favorite girl! here is the origin story <3

ellie's in the middle of facetiming jesse (they call each other during their lunch breaks every single day, they're like each other's human version of a youtube video to eat with) when she sees you walk behind him, notice his phone and lean down to flash her a quick smile with the cutest wave she's ever seen and then promptly disappear. ellie flinches and straightens her back. her hand shoots up, holding the phone at what she thinks is a more flattering angle than the way she'd been holding it basically on her lap before. but you're gone before she could even wave back.

jesse raises his eyebrows at her pale face. "did you just realize you have to shit or something?"

"shut the fuck up," ellie hisses, her voice in a rushed whisper even though jesse is wearing headphones and you're clearly not around anymore. "who was that?"

"what? oh," jesse introduces you by name, says something about knowing you from high school. "she started working here like a month ago, so that's been fun."

ellie can't believe that he's known you for that long and hasn't mentioned you once before. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks him. and she'll keep asking him periodically for the next several months— which she spends stalking your instagram, squinting her eyes at the background behind jesse everytime he calls (in case you're there) and casually visiting him at work when she's feeling bold.

she has her first real conversation with you one summer when you're both at a party on some guy's backyard. you compliment her jorts and tell her she's funny and ellie thanks god that she's just drunk enough to be cognitive and herself but also not overwhelmingly aware of every single thing that's happening. she leaves with your number on her phone (oh my god) and your gloss sticky on her cheek (oh my god????)

i'm sorry to say that you don't actually kiss until at least a whole year later though!! ellie's convinced that you just wanna be friends and she loves being your friend so so much, she wouldn't change it for the world! but also she does think about kissing you every night but she won't even hint at it until she thinks that you might be interested.

and she's really so fucking good at hiding it! ellie can be sneaky and i think we should talk about it more. like you don't even know if she fucks tbh but she has to be fucking, right??? she's so hot?? there has to be someone and she's just not telling you about it. it's not until you know her really well that you realize she's more open with you than she is with most people in her life and if there was someone she would tell you and now that you think about it why does she always always always make time for you, that's crazy!! what does that mean!!! you don't know because she's insane and doesn't register the way you look at her with hearts in your eyes as anything but friendly, so she's determined to respect your wishes and keep being your friend. you definitely end up kissing her first. it's worth it though <3

#loser!ellie #modern!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons

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scoobydoodean · 7 months ago

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I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

#writer disk horse #dabb disk horse #mail

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