#no I am not writing anything my brain is switched off

[biteofcherry]

Black Friday at the Ruby Garden? Two spankings for the price of one! 😆

and extra clamps for the first three subs who mouth off

[panspy]

hmmmmmm.................vent post under tags...... feel free to give advice or dont¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[themultifanshipper]

Charles was shocked into silence. How could he not have noticed? He had known you for years and yet, he had never been so turned on in his life, just from hearing you speak.

Warnings: gn!reader, french!reader, cum play? GRATUITOUS amounts of french! Like half the dialogue is in french (with translation). This is entirely self-indulgent! Charles is really stupid in this I’m sorry but it’s for the plot, also he started out dominant then I decided halfway through he should be submissive, then switched back again. Barely proofread, it is 4:30am as I am writing this, sue me. There is disgusting stuff involving cum, and I’m kinda considering this crack because I can’t take french seriously.

Bon appétit, this is a wild ride my friends.

You had been working in formula 1 for most of your adult life, going from media teams to personal assistant, to lots of other jobs that finally led you to your dream job: race engineer.

Well, your dream job was really being a team boss, but baby steps, yeah?

Anyway, you had been promoted to race engineer to the one and only Charles Leclerc following the whole Xavi thing. But before that he’d known you as his assistant for a bit when his own assistant was on maternity leave, and before that you had been the media trainer for a few teams, including Sauber when he was there. He’d literally known you since his debut, and the two of you had grown very close over the years, and saw each other every week. So the fact that he could have missed something like this was embarrassing.

You were at the end of a race, going on about the tyres overheating to Charles over the radio when the car in front of him locked up and slid, forcing him to swerve and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

You gasped as you saw the car make contact. “Oh Putain, ça va Charles ?” (Oh fuck, you ok Charles?) You spoke into your headset but there was no answer, and Charles didn’t seem to be moving so you tried again “Charles, tu m’entends? Est-ce que ça va?!” (Charles can you hear me? Are you ok?)

He finally replied in a shaky voice, and you were finally able to breathe and call the staff that would go get Charles and his car off the track.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles was having a mental crisis. You spoke French?

Since fucking when?

His ears were ringing as he tried to think back your years friendship for any signs. He came up empty. He was positive he’d never heard you speak French before. And he was positive he should not be hard, climbing out of his car after a crash.

When he got back to the garage, you were waiting for him, ready to ask him how he was but before you could say anything he grabbed your arm and dragged you into the nearest room slash maintenance cupboard he could find.

“What the hell are you doing Charles?”

He locked the door and when he turned back around his eyes were dark and stormy “Since when do you speak french?” he asked.

You just blinked at him.

“What?”

He backed you up against the wall, hands either side of your waist.

“Since when” he spoke patronizingly slowly “Do. You. Speak. French.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion.

“Charles, I am French. I have a French name. I was born and raised in France! What the fuck do you mean ‘since when do I speak french’???!”

His eyes widened as he realized how oblivious he’d been.

“My dad is friends with Pierre’s parents! I started my career at Renault! I brought you wine from my family’s vineyard! Charles how-  how could you not have known?” You laughed at him as he just stood there flabbergasted at his own stupidity.

“Sérieusement? Comment?” (seriously, how?)

His brain seemed to reboot and he put his arms around you “Je suis désolé, je suis vraiment débile” (I’m sorry, I’m so stupid) he giggled into your hair.

The proximity was odd but not unwelcome, as you put your arms around him and laughed with him, inhaling his pleasant scent.

“Tu as mis du parfum? Tu sens bon. ” (Have you got cologne on? You smell good)

He groaned. “Keep talking, please” and he squeezed you tighter against him.

You laughed. “Tu sais bien que je parle toujours en français avec Pierre et Este ?” (You know I always speak french with Pierre and Este, right?)

He whimpered into your neck and that’s when you felt it.

You froze in his arms “Charles are you getting hard?”

He put his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes, both of you going cross-eyed. “I’m sorry you just sound so sexy in french” he sniffled.

This was definitely something you could get behind.

“Ouais? Tu veux que je te parle en français pendant les courses alors? (Yeah, you want me to speak to you in french during the races?)

He chewed on his lip and nodded as your hand made its way to the front of his suit to cup him over the fabric.

“T’es sûr? On voudrait pas que tu salisse la voiture, tu devras expliquer aux ingénieurs pourquoi le siège est trempé” (you sure ? We wouldn’t want you to make a mess, you’d have to explain to the engineers why the seat is wet)

He whined and his knees almost buckled, so you turned him around against the wall and unzipped his suit, dragging it down to pool around his ankles, then making quick work of the second layer, leaving him in his very damp underwear. You pulled that down as well as you got a hand around his cock and started a slow pace, teasing the tip with your thumb every now and then. He bucked his hips and whined at the dry friction.

“What’s the matter? Un peu sec?” (a bit dry?) You said teasingly.

“Laisse moi t’aider avec ça” (let me help you with that)

You got down on your knees and his eyelids fluttered as you got your lips around his tip. When you took half of him in your mouth and reached a hand up to cup his balls at the same time, he moaned and thumped his head back onto the wall.

You pulled off “Garde les yeux sur moi, Charles” (keep your eyes on me, Charles)

He did so , with much difficulty, but his eyes snapped to yours and you continued, taking him all the way to the base and massaging his balls gently. His hips bucked up a bit making you gag slightly.

“désolé, je vais pas durer longtemps” (sorry, I’m not gonna last long)

So you picked up the pace and doubled down on your efforts, as his hands flew to your hair.

It took about a minute and a half for him to come, groaning your name while he filled your mouth. He felt like his soul had been sucked out through his dick. You didn’t swallow it all though, wanting to share the load, as it were.

You got up and pulled him in for a kiss, which he gladly accepted, and it was the most disgusting, satisfying kiss you’d ever had, all teeth and spit and cum, some of it dribbling down your necks and chests.

You stayed like that for a while, basking in each other’s embrace (and each other’s mouths) before you suddenly remembered where you were.

“Charles! Don’t you have a press conference to go to?!”

“Je m’en fous, je reste là” (I don’t care, I’m staying here)

He lifted you up and carried you to the other side of the room where there was a conveniently empty shelf, where he set you down before tugging your pants down and spreading your legs to slot himself between them. He was already half hard again as he pumped himself with one hand and used the other to swipe up the cum on his and your chests, then brought his fingers to your entrance, rubbing gently before sliding a finger inside you. It didn’t take much for him to prep you and he used the excess leftover cum to lube himself up and slide into you. You keened as he pressed up into your most sensitive spots. But he just stayed there, grinding slowly into you, driving you mad.

“Please, Charles!” You begged, pronouncing his name the English way.

He cocked his head and grinned at you, and you sighed in desperation.

“S’il te plait… Charles”

His jaw went slack as he used all the energy he had left to pound into you, right in that special spot that made you see stars, over and over until you were a whining mess underneath him.

You came with a shout, back arching off the shelf and he held on to you as he followed soon after.

Charles Leclerc got a heavy fine for not showing up at the post-race conference, or the debrief, or any of his mandatory duties. Fortunately, he had enough money to pay the fine, and take you to dinner that very same night.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.

I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?

Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333

Sincerely, :]

Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words

“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.” 

“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.” 

“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.” 

Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard. 

“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?” 

“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”

“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.” 

You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.” 

She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her. 

“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.” 

“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope. 

“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.” 

Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.” 

Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.

“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him. 

He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.” 

A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” 

“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?” 

You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.” 

Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door. 

“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him. 

“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.” 

Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?” 

“Pizza,” he confirms. 

You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”

“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”

[j0elmill3r]

Emotional Motion Sickness

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!reader

Summary - Joel relives the worst night of his life when you are critically injured.

Warnings - Violence, blood, injuries, angst, sad Joel

Word Count - 2.5k words

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I wanted to tell you that I love your writing❣️ and by the way, I wanted to ask you for a petition for Joel miller x daughter! reader. Where his daughter is almost on her deathbed and has Deja vu with what happened with Sarah.

A/N - Okay what's going on? Why am I so motivated to write? Anyway, as always, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Joel Miller Masterlist

You'd basically begged your dad to let you come with you, despite being 23 years old, Joel still very much babied you. You sometimes wondered if he still thought of you as the same person that you had been at the start of the apocalypse, an innocent child entirely dependent on her father - He made you think that he couldn't come to terms that you had grown up in this world, having had your entire childhood robbed from you. But if you were being totally honest, you didn't really know anything other than this world, and that's why you thought you bonded with Ellie so well, thinking of her as your younger sister - A bittersweet thought for Joel, since you were a younger sister, even though you had no older sister anymore and were now older than her, it was funny, you were now older than your older sister. He liked to think you and Sarah would share the same bond at that age that you and Ellie do now, even as adults.   

You looked over to the bed Ellie lay in as you heard her giggle to herself - That stupid joke book, you thought to yourself, but hey, it was the little things in this world. She looked over at you.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a joke?" She asked you. You turned over on your other side to look at Ellie and nodded, knowing that you didn't really have a choice in the matter. "Okay, Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" She started.

"I don't know, why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" You amused her. Ellie giggled to herself before continuing on with her joke.

"Because he was outstanding in his field," You shook your head as Ellie continued giggling. There was something oddly comforting in her jokes, they reminded you of the ones your dad used to tell you when you were little when he was trying to get a smile out of you when you were grumpy. "Your dad doesn't find my jokes funny." Ellie whined. You laughed and shook your head, laying on your back.

"To be fair, your jokes are pretty bad," You broke the devastating news to her, hearing Ellie gasp, and you smiled in amusement.

"I, am gonna go to sleep now and pretend that you didn't say that," Ellie told you. "Goodnight, traitor." She said, trying to sound as offended as she possibly could.

"Goodnight, Ellie," You told her. You tried to go to sleep but felt a settling unease in your stomach that you couldn't explain. You knew you could never shake off your gut feeling, which was why you couldn't sleep. You couldn't seem to switch off, your brain running at a mile a minute, unable to shake off the unease settling in your stomach. The day had gone too well, considering your dad's reunion with your uncle Tommy had gone to plan, there hadn't been some catastrophic fuck up at all during the day, somehow unsettling you. Then came a thud from the front door. Quietly, you crept down the hallway towards the door, your body and breath shaking with each step you took. Another thud. This time, you didn't know if it was coming from the door or your heart thumping in your chest.

Thud.

Crash.

Before you had any time to think, a runner came launching through where the door once stood on its hinges, then sprinting towards you. You screamed out for your dad before being body slammed to the ground by the runner, trying your best to fend it off and protect yourself from being bitten.

"Dad!" You screamed out, fear evidently clear in your voice. Joel woke up at your screaming, immediately reaching for his gun as he ran out of bed and to the room that you and Ellie were sharing, where the aforementioned girl lay sound asleep. Running down the stairs, Joel found you fighting for your life. Without hesitation, Joel fired two shots into the back of the runner’s head. You quickly shoved the body off of you and scrambled to your feet, running to your dad and wrapping your arms around him. Joel let out a sigh of relief as he held you.

"It's okay, look at me, Y/N," Joel demanded softly. You met your father’s worried eyes with your tear-clouded ones. "Did it bite you?" He asked you, in a serious, yet comforting tone. You shook your head in response, rubbing your eyes of tears. It went quiet for a minute, only for it to be replaced by that terrifying clicking sound. More gunshots went off. Bang. Bang. It didn't matter how many times you experienced a hoard of infected, the fallout never ceased to terrify you. Joel knew that, feeling that your breathing had become quick and shallow. "Okay, go and get Ellie, we need to get out of here, okay?" Joel had both hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes. This was when he remembered that you deep down, were still a scared little girl.

"Okay," You said quietly, your voice trembling as you looked out of the front door, more gunshots ringing off in the distance. You went back upstairs to wake Ellie up, giving her a gentle shake at first. "Ellie come on, we need to go," You told her. She groaned in response, turning to her other side. "Ellie, I'm being serious. There are runners everywhere." Suddenly, the girl found the energy to get out of bed, quickly jumping into her shoes and slinging her red zipper on. You both ran down the stairs and out of the house, into the open air where herds of the infected runners overtook the commune. You looked around frantically for your dad or uncle Tommy, sighing in defeat when you found neither, deciding to quickly grab Ellie's hand and make a run for one of the trucks you could both take refuge in until it blew over. However, on yours and Ellie's beeline to the row of trucks, you heard one last gunshot ring out.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Everything had gone silent, but then it all came back, the blood rushing to your ears, Ellie yelling out for your dad, your dad calling out your name. You didn't know why, had something happened? Was there something behind you? And then you realized, the blissful unawareness of the gaping hole in your stomach dissipated, and was now replaced with excruciating pain.

"Joel!" Ellie cried out, her eyes filling with tears as she watched you collapse onto your back, hyperventilating as you clutched at your bloodied stomach. "Hurry!" She cried panickily, kneeling beside you. Joel came running over, skidding onto his knees beside you.

No, no, no! Sh-sh-sh-sh, okay, you're okay. Y-You're okay, move your hand, baby. Move your hand.

Memories of your sister’s death came flooding back to him, only it was you in the exact same position, 20 years later.

"Y/N, hey, come on, it's okay, look at me," Joel said loudly over your hyperventilating. "I need to pick you up baby, you're gonna be okay," He promised you, putting his arms under you, wincing as you cried out in pain.

I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know! I know it hurts. All right. Don't look down, look up, look up. Come on, baby. You're okay, you're okay…

You continued crying in pain as Joel ran back to the house, carrying you in his now blood-soaked shirt. You'd gone pale, shaking as you grasped at your dad's shirt. Tommy followed in suit as you were taken back to the house that the three of you had been allowed to stay in for the night before continuing your trail to finding the fireflies. Tommy swiped everything off of the table so Joel could lay you down on it. The commune's doctor came in with a first aid kit, rushing over to you.

"I need everyone out," She said, looking at your dad, Tommy, and Ellie. Joel wanted to scream at her. No. He wouldn't leave you alone. "Now, please, or she's going to die." The three had never left a room so quickly, but for Joel, everything was going in slow motion.

"I know, I know, I know, I know, baby. I know, I know! I know this hurts. You're gonna be okay. All right… Baby, baby, baby, listen to me—I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up. All right? You c'mon. You c'mon."

You grabbed his arm the same way that she did - as if it were the only thing keeping you alive at that very moment. Joel sat down on the stairs, dropping his head into his hands, leaving Tommy and Ellie clueless about what to do. Tommy knew what Joel was thinking, he still remembered the night of the outbreak, remembered holding you, only 2 years old at the time - 4 days shy of your 3rd birthday - as your sister slowly died in your father’s arms.

She continually gasped, both for air and in pain as Joel tried to pick her up.

"I know, baby! No, no. I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know! Tommy, help me!"

Tommy watched on helplessly, holding an increasingly distressed you. Although you weren't quite old enough to comprehend what was going on, you knew it wasn't good - You could hear your sister crying and gasping, but Tommy held you chest to chest, you didn't need to see what was going on.

"Joel," Tommy said tearfully, looking over at his oldest brother and oldest niece, who now lay limp in her father’s arms. Joel looked back to his oldest daughter.

"C'mon, baby girl. C'mon, baby girl, I gotta get you up. C'mon! C'mon, we'll get up! C'mon, baby girl, wake up! C'mon… come—please," Joel gave up begging, collapsing to his knees in tears. Tommy put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and it was then that Joel realized how distressed you were. "Give her here," Joel sniffled, rubbing his eyes and nose as he held his arms out for you. He held you close as you continued sobbing.

"Daddy," You cried, clinging to your father as though he was your lifeline. He put his hand on your back, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill over as he rubbed your back.

"It's okay baby girl, daddy's here, I've got you," He assured you, sensing your fear. "It's all gonna be okay baby girl, I promise." Joel didn't know who he was assuring, him or yourself.

The tension was thick was the commune nurse came out of the dining room, coated in a layer of your blood. She made eye contact with Joel, remorse written on her face.

Oh, no.

You had ended up staying longer in Wyoming than the three of you had hoped for, but there was no way it could have been prevented, given that you had been put on ordered bedrest for at least 3 days, but Joel had made you do 4 - Just in case, he had said. Ellie had been more clingy with you than usual, which had reminded you that despite how hardened she liked to act, that she was still only a child who had been unfortunate enough to be born into this world.

You knew the night had been traumatic for your dad, resurfacing painful memories of Sarah's death, you didn't know if your dad would have recovered if he would have lost you in the same way he had lost her. Joel sighed as he watched you limp into the kitchen, holding your stomach as you did.

"Good morning," You said quietly, hobbling over to the chair so you could sit down. Joel shook his head at you and handed you a glass of water, and your last antibiotic. "Thanks." You popped the pill into your mouth and took a swig of water, then swallowing both.

"You're supposed to be in bed," He gently scolded you. "Another day resting won't kill you." He said. You sighed and shook your head, you knew why he was being like this, he just didn't want to lose you, he had already lost so much to this apocalypse.

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly," You assured him, looking up at him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Just still a bit sore." You said, rubbing your stomach as you moved. You had to be careful of how you moved, just in case you tore your stitches.

"Please go back to bed, baby," Joel pleaded with you. You knew he wouldn't relent in trying to get you back onto bed rest, you sighed in defeat and nodded. "Thank you, do you need me to carry you up the stairs?" He asked you. You blushed in embarrassment as you nodded - what 23-year-old still needed her dad to carry her to bed? Well, obviously you did since your large intestine had a slight tear in it. You whimpered slightly as he picked you up, and you saw the guilt immediately flood onto your dad’s face.

"'M fine," You mumbled, holding onto him as he carried you up to his bed. You didn't question it, but accepted it for you were in need of some comfort, and if sleeping in your dad’s bed gave you it, then so be it. You saw an amused smile on his face as you looked up at him, quirking a brow in confusion. “What?”                                                                                                                               "What's' Forrest Gump's password?" He asked you, a small smile on his face.

"Huh?" You asked, confused at who this Forrest Gump character was.

"1Forrest1," He finished. Then you realized - Ellie's jokebook, and how he used to tell you dad jokes when you were sad to try and cheer you up. You giggled at the joke as you looked at your dad. "You have no clue who that is, do you?" Joel asked you, laughing as you did.

"Not one at all, old man."

[n3ptoonz]

Could you please write the reader waking up from a wet dream with Smoke? reader mumbles his name during it so it isn't that hard to tell what's happening and helps when you wake up after maybe... 😵‍💫 established relationship. I LOVE your stuff so much by the way every time you post it's Christmas for me.

christmas 😭😭😭 i love that analogy TYSM anon❤️💚

now...this is what i'm talkin about 😈😈 let's get it DONEE

'Love On The Brain'

Pairing: Royal Guard!Smoke/Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: Smut, Explicit, service top!smoke, switch! smoke, gn reader, reader is a switch, wet dream, established/secret relationship, creampie, m!nipple play, cowgirl, prone, missionary, handjob, sphinx likes when men beg, dacryphilia, reader is like the heir in a primarily female tribe (very outworld-esque)(idk i just wanted to sound cool), barely proofread apologies for typos

Word count: 1.9k

To be the heir in a tribe that was ran by mostly powerful women, it was naturally a blessing to be in your position. Because here, gender didn't matter. First born = next in line for leading. Period.

However, your mother was no stranger to keeping men in their place. Most of the guards that did nothing but protect and serve were in fact men, especially ones that were chosen from clans with high status.

Your quarters, like your other siblings, were a bit far from the main part of the land, but that meant you had your own guard all to yourself--like everyone else. One man that was capable of just about anything, if not everything.

His name was foreign; that of a whole different region outside of your knowledge. What was it again? Ah, it was-

-

"Tomas-!" you choked out a whine as your eyes shut tightly. Tomas held one of your hands while the other was gripping your other hip, watching the stomach bulge appear with stars in his eyes as he had no shame going at a relentless pace.

This was the third time you came in one round. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it right. Who knows how long you've been going at it by now? Honestly, who cares. To basically have the shape of him molded inside you, time was the least of your concerns.

You were signaling that you were about to cum again by the slight grip you had on his hand while the other flew over your mouth. He suddenly stopped his movements and leaned forward to kiss the back of that same hand.

"I want to hear you. Can you do that for me?" he whispered. He said your name over and over in a sweet, gentle manner, as if he was trying to get your attention. What was once a hazy and muffled voice was becoming clearer every time he said your name. And as you opened your eyes-

-

You shot up in your bed and panted, shielding your eyes from the sun rays that assaulted your vision. Your breath stilled you turned to look to your side; Tomas was standing at the foot of your bed in position but a concerned look on his face--he was typically bad at hiding his emotions, it's an ongoing joke between you two.

"I heard you calling my name, are you alright?" he asked, a faint tint of blush betraying him. You were about to get up off the bed when you felt a sort of...sticky substance in your underwear. You froze in your spot before sheepishly looking up at him.

"I am, thank you...Could you, um..." you trailed off.

With these three words he has heard before, he's assuming you're about to ask him to leave so you can have your privacy. Being in a secret relationship with your own guard wasn't exactly all fun and games, he still took his job very seriously, but boy did he enjoy the thrill alone.

He had already made a move to leave the room when you hopped out of bed, remembering that feeling between your thighs as soon as you took a step. If there wasn't a bloom of even more concern on his face before, it's there now. He takes one look at how you were standing, and one look at your bed. Upon seeing a bit of a stain where you were just laying, he was no fool. He knew it exactly what that meant. From you repeatedly whispering his name in your sleep, to the slight jolts every few seconds...

"Did you...uh-"

"Tomas," you said as now stood in front of him with no intention to break eye contact. You looped your index finger around a piece of his armored chest plate and pulled him in for a short, but meaningful kiss. Eventually going back in for even shorter seconds and thirds. You felt like a starved bear woken up from hibernation, and you needed your fill.

"You are going to fuck me. And you will do it how I tell you to. Is that understood?" you whispered. The color red almost completely took over his entire face upon seeing this newly discovered hunger in your eyes, but he was more than happy to oblige by your commands. He did serve you, after all. Why not put it to good use?

The only sounds that could be heard was the bed shaking, skin slapping together, and your cries muffled by your pillow. The swiftness in which Tomas put you in the prone position and pinned you down with his body, he didn't even really need to use his hands for anything besides holding himself up.

"Look at you loosening up for me. Is this how the heir behaves?" he taunted. You gave him free rein to speak how ever he pleased. Your nails drug against the sheets and you panted as the room grew hotter and your skin felt prickly from the cold sweat.

The pure bliss of his long, thick dick dragging in and out of you and the contrast to what was once cold metal armor to his sweaty, warm muscular chest atop your back made you see stars. This was a thousand times better than your dream, honestly.

"Nothing to say?" he asked, slowly yet agonizingly pushing himself into you and bringing his movements to a halt. He was holding your hips down at the same time until a good amount of his weight engulfed you. The angle he was laying at had him brushing right against your g spot, but not enough to get you to cum in an instant.

"Tomas--!" you cried out, squirming and groaning underneath him. You couldn't see it, but Tomas himself had to pause before responding because he was getting overwhelmed. You felt so good around him, he almost moaned your name back.

"You feel...so fucking good wrapped around me..." he whispered. He didn't expect himself to say it out loud, but the cat's out the bag! He slowly shakily pulled out and flipped you onto your back, the sight of your slick mixed with his pre-cum leaking out of you made him dizzy.

Your face was flushed, eyes glossy, and chest heaving; he looked the same. Without second thought you pulled him close for a deep and passionate kiss, reaching your other hand between your legs to grab and pump him. He nearly got choked up mid-kiss. You smiled and chuckled against him as you could feel his hands grabbing for the sheets next to your head. His body was trembling with love and lust.

You continued to stroke him and made sure it was known he wasn't allowed to be inside you again...yet. And this? This...newfound dynamic of power, he loves it. He instinctively started thrusting his hips into your palm and wishing it was you.

He broke the kiss and started nipping at your neck, his shallow breaths and breathy whimpers all too familiar right in your ear. He knew it wouldn't be possible to mark you up the way he wants to, but that didn't really matter. Only he gets to be this close to you and he relished in that alone.

His breaths picking up meant he was close, but you weren't having that. Him coming before you? Especially if you haven't yet? Madness. Though, you knew he wasn't about that either.

You quickly angled him in front of your hole and pulled away right as he thrusted forward. The both of you groaned in pleasure at the sudden contract on both ends and a cold shiver washed over your bodies.

He couldn't help but cum instantly, but he was no punk. He just kept going at the same time you were being filled to the brim. The room couldn't be louder with his determined grunting and the sound of squelching coming from between your legs.

You came shortly after and dragged your nails down his biceps since he had you caged in. He had your back arched, seeing stars, and out of breath.

There must've been something about this morning air because neither of you felt like this was over. Or maybe you didn't want it to be...

You smiled as he rested his forehead against yours, giving him a quick kiss on the nose before pushing him off of you and crawling on top of him. You watched his gray eyes practically twinkle at the sight of you--spent but willing. But also the rays from the sun shining through your window.

One of your hands carefully wrapped around his neck while the other simply put his length back inside. Being on top of him now, you could feel his quick breaths and the slight bucking of his hips.

"No touching while I ride you. Understand?" you said, tone just above a whisper when you leaned in closer to him. He gulped and shyly nodded. He was determined to try his best not to, because he knew you'd be even more willing to punish him for it.

There was no more starting slow. You both wanted and needed to chase this high as fast as possible especially under these circumstances. You took turns having control, and you were going to make the most of it. You were already pumped full of his seed so who needs slow and sensual now?

Your body was kicked into overdrive as you took all of him again. You tried to keep a not so expressive attitude, but damn that was growing harder by the second. No pun intended.

Since there was a free hand that wasn't on his neck, you decided to try something new. You gently rubbed his nipple to see if he'd have a reaction. And boy DID he have a reaction.

"Fuck-" he cursed multiple times. His face contorting and hips bucking harder was all you needed to see. "Ah, don't stop, please." he whispered.

He had to keep balling his hands into fists so he wouldn't just grab your hips and fuck you til you cried again. "By the gods, I'm so close. Don't stop-" his own words interrupted by a combination of a gasp and a moan. You've never seen this side of him before. Even if you did have sex the amount of times that could be counted on one hand, you didn't expect he'd act like this. Of course, he's a sensitive and sentimental guy at heart even if he doesn't show it much outside of being alone with you.

Good thing you were also about to blow too. Would you believe me if I told you he was about to cry? Well, you should. Because he's doing so right now.

"Can I- Agh- Can I please touch you? I can't go on like this-" he begged. You denied him just to watch him cry some more. And as the tears poured from his eyes, you both came together. He wasn't sad or upset. Quite the opposite actually. Little did you know it was so fucking hot to him that you wouldn't give him what he wants right after he just had you pinned to the mattress and filled with his cum.

After you calmed yourselves down, cleaned up, and changed the sheets, you convinced him to take a bath with you and cuddled close to him. You didn't want him to go back to his post yet. It had been some time since either of you had gotten the time to yourselves to do something like this, clearly. You innocently sat in his lap while you two cleaned each other off--including the dried tears under his eyes.

And then you woke up.

Kidding! After your nice, hot bath, you pulled him close as you plopped down onto the fresh sheets just to hold him for longer...Thank the gods today was your off day.

a/n: HI...! XDXDXD COLLEGE WAS WHOOPING MY ASS, my bad y'all! i hope yall fw this bc deadass this person asked for this in fuckin january, i feel like a shitty author rn😭😭but we got it done 🙏🏾 idk when imma be able to focus on tumblr fics again, but hopefully it won't take as long like this did!

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part Two

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

(I gotta get better at these tags, suggestions welcome!)

Summary: Savannah and Terry continue with they left off. But something stops Savannah leaving her unsure if what was supposed to be the perfect night is now ruined.

[PART 1]

Warnings/Things of Note: Slightly NSFW/NSFT (moaning, kissing, nipple play I guess...), fluff and comfort, playful teasing, anxiety, dissociation, mentions of disability, sex and trauma, intense ass eye contact and staring (it might turn into kink if you squint a lil bit), Switch!Terry (not really but we shall see...), people wearing masks (surgical, kn95, n95), shoutout to the library!

Really though, if you dissociate and/or have trouble staying present in your body, for any reason and/or you be feeling things too much and it make you wanna dissociate, proceed with caution. While it's cool to see yourself reflected in writing, it can also be disorienting. So. Before you read. I want you to have some grounding tools near by and take breaks as you need them.

Word count: 3K+ (3,679 WTF?!?!?! YAY ME)

Author's Note: Okay, yall. Here is the second part. This thing is long! I'm typing this in drafts right now on my computer. I have to copy and paste in into docs because I have no clue what the actual word count is (That shit was 10 pages when i pasted it in WORD!)

Thank you sooo sooo much everyone for your support. I'm glad you enjoyed the first part. Highkey...it's giving series cuz the things I imagined>>>> I'm a covid conscious girlie who still be masking outside so it's been a minute for me in this department! Trying to use my imagination and conjure the connections I know people are seeking, navigating the world like I do. So as i use my big brain, it'll pop up in my writing. If you wanna see more, let me know so I can add you to the taglist. I'm not touching this again til November! I got grad school apps to submit!

I hope you enjoy!

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

As Terry returned to what he and Savannah both realized was her sweet spot, he indulged himself to hear Savannah’s moans over & over; each one differing in pitch and tone. Applying the pressure of his tongue to the spot and up to her earlobe, she made a low moan. And Terry felt as she pulled him closer. The feel of her long nails caressing his shaved head and neck and her sounds were bliss. The apprehension and embarrassment that Savannah had previously felt, were gone now. They were replaced with incessant need, incessant hunger. The need to feel this man on her, with her, inside her —skin under skin. The contact he gave her was none like no other. She let the sounds of pleasure spill from her mouth as Terry obliged her to.

As of this moment, Savannah was tapped into her body. The feeling was overwhelming but it wasn’t too much. When Terry came up for air, he looked into Savannah’s eyes, deep dark brown satellites. They marveled in comparison to how she described his planets. The look on her face was one he’d never seen before but was honored to know he helped put it there. She let out a shaky sigh.

“You’re really good at this sort of thing.”

Terry chuckled with a smirk, “I am.”

At the next thought, Savannah sheepishly smiled and looked away. Terry brought his hand to her chin once again, slightly nudging her to look at him.

“What?” Terry said with a smug ass grin, admiring the woman before him.

Savannah looked down with her eyes and flitted them back to Terry’s.

“I don’t know if I can ask you this.”

“You can ask me anything you want.” Terry slow blinked as he responded to Savannah.

She took his left hand from her chin and placed it on her chest, “Can you touch me here?” Grabbing his other hand, she added “and here?”

Terry said, “I can. What would you like me to do?”

“Whatever you want.” Savannah replied, focusing fully on Terry’s now bright eyes, while she bit her deep, brownish pink bottom lip. Terry took those words and massaged her chest. She was still wearing her black high neck tank top, the opposite to Terry’s gray one. When he squeezed, she let out a hiss. Terry took his thumbs and massaged what he felt were the outline of her nipples. At that, Savannah let out a “fuck”. Terry stopped, looking at Savannah, waiting for her eyes to open. Her dark brown skin was gleaming with the slight sweat she’d worked up.

“I didn’t say stop,” she said lowly, eyes heavy lidded with hunger. And so, Savannah was determined to maintain eye contact with Terry—to eventually be the one to win one of these staring contests. As he flicked his thumb in slow circles over her nipples, Savannah felt herself floating away. The feeling was good. Too good. Maybe too overwhelming. She was getting lost in the feeling. A new one, but overwhelming nonetheless. She was trying to stay here, stay present in this body. Her thoughts were interrupted by Terry squeezing her right shoulder. She blinked and focused back onto the objects inside of the room. The TV atop the dresser and the music sounding from it. The light on across the hall. Her clothes on THEE chair™️, and making them center back on Terry’s face.

Terry had seen Savannah enjoying the feeling, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, excitement and trying to maintain her focus on him. He wasn’t gonna lie. It gave him an ego boost. But then, he saw her eyes go in a slightly different direction. Her voice, her body still responding to his movements but her mind had gone elsewhere. Her eyes had glazed over and it made him stop.

“Savannah,” he squeezed her right shoulder again, “Savannah, baby.”

Her eyes found his again and her face contorted into a frown. You could see the disappointment on her face. Whatever feelings that were coming up for her right now, he wanted to make space for them —to make space for her.

“What is it?” Terry uttered softly.

Savannah shook her head from side to side. She kissed her teeth softly and said, “It was really nice. It felt good. It felt really good.”

Terry nodded wordlessly as he kept his hand on her shoulder, alternating light squeezes while he massaged it.

Savannah continued, “I felt too much. Not that anything you did was bad or wrong. It was perfect actually. Really really perfect.” She wanted to reassure him.

Terry gave her a small smile, “But?” he added.

“I felt it too much. It felt too good. And I think—�� she cut herself off. She thought what? That she couldn’t do this? That this might be harder than she thought it’d be? She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to think or even say or talk about herself as being too much. She’d done so much work already to remove that from her vocabulary, from seeing herself that way.

And Terry never did.

She hoped he wouldn’t now.

“I think that because the feeling—because EYE felt the feelings so intensely, I was so in my body, paying attention to everything. And that was scary. I think I got scared. I think we got scared.” The we in question was her body. The both of them were still navigating this together and it was difficult.

Savannah hadn’t even noticed the single tear that spilled onto her cheek until Terry wiped it away.

It was clear today that she would not be the winner of any of these staring contestants. 

Focusing on Terry and talking about this, made it too difficult. Eyes darting around the room as she talked, mostly because she didn’t want to see him. To see if the look on his face would change at all to pity. She couldn’t bear it. She hoped not.

Terry’s heart broke a little. But he made sure to maintain his steel of softness for Savannah. He didn’t want to speak too soon, speak over her, or imply anything that may not be true. He just wanted her to talk, to tell him what she needed. And he would help her in whatever way he knew how.

“I don’t want you to think,” Savannah said finally braving to make eye contact with Terry. Her nostrils were flaring and she was trying to keep her voice level. She didn’t want it break. But it did. “Less of me.”

At that statement though, Terry had to interrupt.  “I don’t think less of you.” Savannah raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I don’t,” he doubled down and countered in a firm tone.

Savannah rolled her eyes in exasperation and sighed loudly. Not at Terry. Not even at herself but just at the situation. When Savannah could not find the words to say, Terry decided to speak some more.

“I don’t think less of you. I never could but especially not because of this. You told me that you needed—that we needed to take it slow. Like I said, you are in control.” He took a pause. “ I’m with you because I like you. I like you because of you. This,” he picked up her hands, pointing his chin to their hands and to Savannah. “means something to me. You are important to me.” He squeezed her hands for emphasis.

As he considered his next words, there was  silence between the two of them. Savannah had briefly removed one of her hands and used the bottom of her palm to wipe her eyes. She joined hands with Terry again, as the two lay side to side, knees facing inward. Music was faintly playing in the background. 

It was a simple yet hypnotic melody. In fact, that’s why they’d let it repeat over and over. It was Terry’s choice. And it was definitely going to be up there on his Spotify Wrapped. 

When he first heard it, Savannah had immediately come to his mind. She was definitely special and knew it immediately when he’d come across her. 

—

Savannah was oblivious in her own world when he crossed her path. He was awestruck. 

It was the sound of her voice that piqued his interest first. He heard her before he saw her. After locking his bike out front, he walked through the library’s sliding doors. He’d heard it as the metal song he’d been listening to was fading out. She was at a table explaining something to the group of people in front of her. There was something about her voice that was soothing and captivating. Taking his buds out ear by ear, he was able to hear her voice in its fullness. He didn’t have the first clue about how the nutritional value of frozen fruit and vegetables was just as good as fresh, but he’d listen more to find out. 

Staring in her direction, he was immediately taken by her. She’d been wearing a bright pink bandana over her hair put in a thick low puff. Clear, purple glasses over deep, dark brown cat eyes, lined in black. Thin, oversized hoops framed her face. The rest of it he couldn’t see because she was wearing mask. It was a white one with blue straps. It made him scrunch his face in curiosity, especially because most of the library patrons he could see weren’t wearing any. He’d done a quick ocular scan of the space from periphery to main fields of vision. Yup. He’d spotted maybe 4 or 5 people outside the seated group wearing a mask at all. Some wore thin, black and light blue ones. Others wore more sturdy-looking ones? People had them the in different colors—white, black, pink green. He wasn’t wearing one either. But no mind that, he wanted to hear more of what she had to say. 

She was wearing an orange crochet cardigan with a white ribbed shirt. The shirt was stretched over her large chest and tucked into black stretchy yoga pants. 

The thick waistband outlined the roundness of her soft belly. They hugged her wide-set hips that framed her full thighs.  The rest of the material flared out at her knees, covering her white and light brown running shoes.

It was at the appraisal of her lower half that made Terry let out what he thought was a mental, “Damn,” and considered what behind might look like. He realized that was not the case when the library worker at the front desk cleared their throat loud enough for Terry to hear and get the hint. He whipped his head in their direction, smiling apologetically and nervously with wide eyes and thin lips. He was being a man, in a way he was NOT proud of right now.

“Sorry about that. Is there a place I can charge my phone?” he asked while adjusting his backpack.

The worker pointed in the opposite direction of Savannah and her group. The worker was wearing a thin, black mask so he couldn’t see the bottom half of their face. But the expression in their eyes made it clear he needed to keep it pushing and do so expeditiously. He thanked them and made his way to get some juice for his phone.

—

Lizzie’s voice was crooning on the song’s fourth verse, fading out the memory 

I'll give it to you freely

Cause you're so damn worth it

Oh will you still love me

Even when wе're hurting

Even when wе're hurting

“You are important to me,” he repeated “I’m not going to say that I don’t care about it. Because it wouldn’t be true. I care about whatever affects you, however it affects you.” He was looking down at her, the pair’s eyes a perfect match of earth, water and soil. Her eyes didn’t leave his this time, despite the silly face Terry made to break the tension in the room.

Savannah laughed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was getting better at keeping up with him. Maybe one day she would win one of these staring contests, he pretended not to know about. Attagirl.

“You can take however long you and your body need to adjust, to get back into it.  Take your time, baby.” he rested his forehead against hers, rubbing his thumb at her cheek “The loving ain’t going nowhere.” he said with wide grin, while Savannah let out a short, spluttering laugh. 

“Okay, Mary J Blige,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes upward, staring at no place in particular.

“I got you,” Terry said booping Savannah’s nose.

“You got what?” she said with in an incredulous look on his face

“You,” he emphasized, “You can’t keep eyes on me.”

Savannah waved his hand from her face, the gold, medical bracelet glinting in the light. “Boy, bye.” She twisted at her waist to reach for her glasses on the nightstand. When she faced Terry again he was supporting himself up with his left hand, while his right one propped his head. Terry was staring at her as if he were enchanted. He’d always stare at her like that. And Savannah couldn’t believe that he still was, especially after how tonight went. He was making her feel all self-conscious and shit. Damn him and his fuck ass, color-changing eyes.

“What?” Terry said softly, cutting off her thoughts

“Fuck you and your fucking eyes”, Savannah playful shoved his shoulder.

“Why you say fuck me for?” Terry said aloud after letting out a laughter of shock, thick eyebrows raised and eyes widened.

“Because!” Savannah retorted, mirroring Terry’s expression and previous tone.

“Because what?” Terry said now in a softer tone, while squinting at her. He’d reached out for her hand again without looking. She accepted it and Terry interlocked his fingers with hers. It made Savannah smile, clearly showing because her eyes never left his.

This man was gonna be her undoing, she was sure of it. And he was sure she’d be his.

“So,” Savannah paused, while she focused on the feeling of the small circles Terry rubbed on the back of her clasped hand. “I didn’t ruin tonight?” she asked, avoiding Terry’s original question. Her left arm was bent at the elbow on her pillows, mirroring Terry while he was now lower than her. She felt Terry shift and then his hand on her knee. He slightly dipped his head, green-gray eyes asking for permission. Savannah nodded her head yes, and she felt Terry gently grab the back of her right knee, pulling it closer to him. Savannah loved the way the skin his rough textured palm felt against the soft smoothness of her legs. And Terry couldn’t get over how soft and delicate her skin was. Especially when he grazed her sides, feeling her rolls and ripples. It was supple and satin-like. He was grateful for the privilege he was allowed in getting to touch her. In allowing him to do anything with her. He’d do anything she’d ask in return.

“You did not,” Terry said. “I got to spend time with you. I got feel and caress you.” He demonstrated by caressing the back of her thigh. “I got to learn more about the sounds you make when you’re really feeling good ,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Savannah scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Terry kissed his teeth, holding in his smirk. “See, there you go again.” he said in a light teasing tone. It was Savannah’s turn to kiss her teeth.

“Ok, but to be fair, today should NOT be counted!” She butted in holding a pointed finger upward

“Nigga, nobody is counting!” Terry laughed out. 

“What do you mean, nobody’s counting? YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU ARE!” she exclaimed in shock and amusement. She wasn’t upset or angry. She felt…vindicated. Vindicated at the fact this mf WAS doing this shit on purpose! Ooh, Terry. When you I catch you, Terry! When I catch you Terry!

Now, Terry didn’t wanna look Savannah in her eyes. He was being shy and evasive and shit. Looking around the room, now that she found him out. He could feel the heat rising to cheeks. Not him blushing over this. Savannah lightly tugged his chin upward towards her.

“Nah, pretty boy. Eyes up here. This is what you wanted right?” Savannah had said, genuinely teasing him. He knew she didn’t mean anything else behind those words, just getting him back for the sake of getting him back. But the way she said them, while grabbing his chin made him feel something. He’d have to return to that thought another time. The firm squeeze she added, and the pressure from the tips of her naturally long nails, to grab his attention again didn’t help.

Savannah was looking at him expectedly, one eyebrow arched with lips slightly parted.

“I mean…” Terry trailed off. He did love staring at her. Yeah, he got a thrill from how any look he gave her she had a reaction to. But it really was her eyes that captivated him. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, iris and pupil ringed in black. They were a cat-like almond shape. Sharp and alluring without meaning too. When she lined them with different colors, it only made them more striking. He could help but admire them and admire her, like one would the moon. Intrinsically and reverently.

“…you got some nice ass eyes. Be distracting a nigga and shit.” Terry chuckled trying not to be the chalant nigga he very much was and Savannah let out a low cackle.

“Heh, hey.” she took that moment to clap her hands slowly, alternating her hands so that palms touched fingertips and fingertips touched palms. Swiping away some of the doubt and insecurity in her head. It made her get a big one.

Whew! Savannah didn’t know she’d be able to relate to Victoria Monét when she sang it, but making niggas feel a way is a forté really. Well, shit. She wasn’t gonna feel guilty about using his face and his eyes as the last thing she’d sense in her grounding practice anymore. And, she was making him fold like he made her fold? Nah, the game was on. She was committed to winning a few of these stare-downs and she was gonna come out on top, one way or another.

“Anyways, back to what you were saying much earlier.” Savannah ushered him to continue after they’d gotten hella distracted and off course. She appreciated the levity Terry added to the moment for her sake. But Savannah really did need to know that she didn’t ruin tonight and that she shouldn’t feel bad when they woke up tomorrow. She wasn’t in love him yet, but she needed to know, that if it happened —when it happened, a voice in her head said—That he would validate and reassure her when this would come up again. Because it would. Come up again. 

“Like I was saying,” Terry extended the first syllable of the last word for exaggerated effect. It earned him a giggle. “We got to pause and ground together, when we both needed it.” Savannah gave him a slight eyebrow raise. 

Terry began to rub at the back of his neck when he admitted, “I read online that light yet firm pressure could be helpful in helping a partner stay present.” Savannah’s face softened in surprise and endearment. Oh shit! Not him doing self-directed research!

So that’s why he was doing those squeezes and circles!

He continued hesitantly, “Yeah. I was just looking up different articles, going to different websites and other people’s accounts and stuff talking about disability, sex and trauma, you know. I just wanted to make sure I could help you feel as comfortable as possible. And you know, I got kinda nervous too cuz i was like, ‘I don’t know if Im fucking up or doing too much’ so I was stopping when I needed to too.” Terry was rambling nervously and it was so cute and sweet. She couldn’t believe he did that for her. And also that what he found helped him too.

“But yeah, nothing was ruined. I got to be here with you. And see what it was like when you start floating away,” he ended in a singysong way, wiggling his fingers for emphasis looking nowhere in particular.

Terry made sure to snap his head back to Savannah’s. He reached up for her face, his thumb slowly moving up and near her chin and lips. At that, she took a hand and draped it behind Terry’s neck. She used her nails to make slow, stroking movements at the across the length of his neck. She wanted to make sure she heard what Terry was saying.

“But I want you know, that I’ll be right here with you on earth. No matter where you go, wherever you go.” Terry stated firmly. He had an earnest look in his eyes. His, tinged with grey among blue-green ocean waves, moving in sync with hers, being compelled by the draw of her deep brown moons shining with black rings. The tides of feeling and connection present between the two were unmistakable. Undeniable.

Savannah knew that he meant every word. 

And it was scary as hell. 

She hadn’t had someone feel so sure about her in this way, in a long time.

But she wanted to see it through anyways, whatever this would become with time. She hadn’t told him everything, just enough to be in the know. And he took that information and built on it. For them. For her.

Savannah slightly lowered her head towards Terry, hovering her lips right over his. Her chain dangling over his.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his lips. 

“Nothing is ever too much for you,” he whispered back.

And so the tides crashed, leading their lips to softly touch together. Melting with the hopes for the future and the celestial of their current now.

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

Author's Note Pt 2: Comments, questions and suggestions are so welcome (please be nice to me tho 🥺 👉🏿 👈🏿) I did try to revise this one and edit it for real for real. If there are any errors let me know.

If you're wondering how he got Savannah out that mask...you gotta keep reading. If you wanna be added to the taglist without getting all my other NSFW reblogs, please lemme know in the replies.

Also I hope that those of you who needed to or still need to take some breaks and do some grounding cuz reading may have been a lot, please do that. Slowly blink your eyes open and close. Stretch your fingers, wrists, arms, and neck. Hell, your whole body. Drink some water. Grab a snack. Put on a mood uplifting song. <3

Also if you somebody like me, who still be masking when they be outside, im writing this for you extra!

For anyone who need it, let this work be a manifestation for the dynamics you desire, that are aligned with you in all ways, with no doubts or questions. May the Divine deliver and you recognize them upon arrival. You got this, boo! 😉

Okay thank you for coming to my TED Talk 🥰 See y'all on the dash

[beenbaanbuun]

Not sure if this is a request or me just going insane after reading your dumbification yeo fic but oop-

Been thinking about jealous Yeosang nonstop since then because I always get a little disappointed when fics paint him as this super passive, open lover. I mean it's all well and good to be someone who's genuinely okay with their partner having multiple partners/being kinda flirty, but I honestly don't see him as the type to be that chill

I mean sure he wouldn't exactly be as loud or aggressive about it as sayyy.... Joong or Sannie, I am a switch!Yeosang enthusiast after all, but I still think he'd get upset if he saw you being too chummy with one of your guy friends or one of the other members.

Early on in the relationship it would probably be all cute, he gets pouty and quiet, maybe clingy after and he needs lots of affirmation and assurance before he feels secure again.

But once he's comfortable with you? C'mon, you CANNOT tell me he's not the type to pin you against the door as soon as you get home, hands and lips desperately latching on to you as you clutch at his hair, deep voice muffled by your skin as he seethes over That Guy who kept hitting on you or how Wooyoung was a little too touchy for his peace of mind (woo totally did it on purpose btw).

And oh my god if those angry growls turn desperate? If you're not responding verbally cuz you're just so overwhelmed by everything that's Yeo?? And he suddenly whines into your neck and nuzzles your pulse point seeking verbal affirmation??? And you grip his hair and he whimpers when you tug so he has to look you in the eye?????

I need to calm tf down before I drop a whole 1.5k word smut fic in your ask box but you get the idea XDD

Jealous yeo lives rent free in my brain and you're writing has him running LAPS TwT we as a fandom have failed to have enough yeosang smut on the market and it Saddens Me

~Lyra

i am CLINICALLY INSANE!!!!!!!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME 😭😭😭

like i’m sorry but i can imagine him just pinning you to the door, fully clothed, and grinding up against you. his mouth is just on your neck, sucking, biting, kissing at your flesh until its mottled with purple bruises. like there’s literally no rhyme or reason, he’s just that desperate to his his mouth on you and mark you up that he barely gives you a minute to think straight.

like you’re still both fully dressed and your back is still presses uncomfortable against the door, but that doesn’t stop yeosang from bucking his hips up into yours, dry humping you because he doesn’t have the patience with you right now. he needs you to know that you’re his and his alone.

“can’t fucking believe you,” he growls before biting down on the soft flesh. you keen at the sensation, legs going weak. you’re glad he has you pinned to the door; if he didn’t, you might fall, “all over that guy as if you don’t have a perfectly good boyfriend who takes care of you. what? did you just want my attention? because now you have it.”

you whimper as he grinds down hard against your pelvis, his clothed hard-on rubbing so deliciously against your folds. you want him in you, but with everything that’s going on, you can barely think, let alone talk.

“s-sangie-” you choke out, trying to tell him how bad you need him, but you’re cut off by the whine that claws it’s way up your throat.

“what?” he grunts into your neck, “you want to tell me something?”

you nod, but no words come out. yeosang chuckles darkly into your neck.

“go on then, baby,” his teeth graze against you, threatening to add to the purple bruises that run up and down your skin, “if you’re going to tell me anything, tell me how bad you need me.”

you know it’s an ego thing. of course it is; yeosang was obviously hurt when he saw you flirting with the other man, and now it’s your job to repair that. and you would, if you could hold a thought for more than two seconds. you’d love nothing more than to stroke his ego, make him feel all big and powerful and like he’s the only man in the world.

but you just can’t. every time you open your mouth, you lose your train of thought and all that comes out is a few pants as yeosang tears your mind down to nothing. you cant even focus when he pulls back a little, studying your face with glassy eyes before diving right back into your neck. he doesn’t suck, or bite, or kiss this time. he just nuzzles the sticky skin with his nose, mumbling almost incoherent words against it.

“baby,” he says after a moment or two, voice a little breathier than before, “baby, please tell me me how much you need me. need to hear it.”

his tongue darts out and he begins to lap one of the bite marks, as if trying to soothe it. it only makes your mind race more.

as do the continuous whimpers that you can hear spilling into the air, only this time they’re not from you. they’re from yeosang.

yeosang who is still grinding into you, albeit with sloppier, softer motions than before. who is still pinning you to the wall, only with a more desperate grip, as if you’ll slip away if he lets go. who still has his face pressed against your neck, words slipping from his mouth, but now they beg rather than degrade.

“baby, please,” he whispers, and you feel something wet fall against your neck; a tear, “i need you tell tell me you need me.”

he sounds so pathetic, crying into your neck like that, and it soon sinks in that the tables have turned without you even really realising. the man that had pinned you to the door minutes prior, wanting nothing more than to teach you a lesson, had vanished. he’s been replaced by your baby boy, who was so desperate to hear how much you wanted him. so desperate to know that you loved him as much as he loved you.

you try your hardest to gather your thoughts, just enough for you to be able to scrape together a sentence or so. but with yeosang bucking against you like a dog in heat, its so incredibly hard. add that to the fact that he’s gone back to suckling at your neck like its going to bring him some sort of comfort and there’s no way you were getting a coherent sentence out.

so you lace you fingers into his hair, grateful of how long it had gotten, and tug. he lets out a long whimper, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you tug his far enough back to see his face. you tug again, wordlessly pleading for him to look at you. just once would be enough for him to see how thoroughly mindless he has you already. just once for him to understand that he is all you can think about right now.

[updatingranboo]

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

Lucifer Drabble

Lucifer x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive

CW: slight suggestive themes at the end if you squint-

A/N: helloooo I am not dead, surprise! After June of Doom I wanted to take a little break, enjoy the Summer holidays and focus a little more on my studies... then I ended up in the ER and my focus kinda went out the window! :D Now, my exams aren't over, and as a matter of fact I have one next Monday, but!! I kinda still wanted to keep the writing part of my brain noodle exercised, and if I don't distract myself from all the shit I just went through I will go crazy, so here I come with a very short, very self-indulgent drabble! Eeeenjoy!

“Come to my room right now. Don't make me wait.”

That's all he wrote to you, and you didn't really question it. You just got up and walked down the hallway to his room. You know Lucifer, and you know what he wants. Right from the get-go this morning you knew it was going to be a long and stressful day for him. It is not unlikely for Lucifer to request your company at the end of days such as this and honestly? You welcome it.

You were unable to spend any time with him lately, and it was really starting to get to you, so going to see him sounds like a great idea right now.

You knock at his door with no hesitation, and, like other times before, it opens on its own, letting classical music pour out of the room. Lucifer is sitting on the sofa with a tea tray on the coffee table, his coat abandoned on a chair and his shirt slightly unbuttoned. Ah, so it is the kind of day that requires the full treatment, huh?

You walk over to him and plop down in the spot next to him, even though you know that that's not nearly close enough for him and that soon you'll probably find yourself in his lap.

“Long day?” You offer with a smile, and Lucifer wraps his arm around you and, of course, pulls you closer with a tired sigh

“You have no idea.”

You settle into his side with a sympathetic smile and place your head against his shoulder.

“Anything I can do?”

He squeezes you a little closer still, as if he was trying to merge your souls together. “Let's just stay like this for a while.” You nod and say nothing else, nuzzling your cheek against him as you slowly relax.

You stay like that,basking in each other's presence for a little, but after a while you decide to start talking to tell him about you week, careful not to drown out the sound of the music coming from his record player. He doesn't say much, merely humming here and there while he runs his gloved fingers through your hair.

You don't know when, but at some point you switch positions, and find Lucifer's head in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair. Despite his silence, you know he appreciates the tender gesture. At some point, though, you realize that the music has stopped, and you throw a glance towards the record player. It is completely turned off, so you come to the conclusion that Lucifer must've stopped it with magic.

“Ah, I'm sorry. I've been prattling on for too long, haven't I? You wanted to enjoy your music in peace.” You say apologetically, smiling down at him.

“Don't be ridiculous.” He grabs your wrist and gently brings your hand to his lips. “I merely decided to turn off the record player so that I could listen to you better. Your voice is my favorite sound, I thought you would know that by now.” He gives you a self-satisfied smirk when he sees your cheeks turn red at his simple words. You are just so adorable sometimes. What is he supposed to do with you?

“As a matter of fact-” he sits up and leans over you, caging you against the sofa with his arms “-I think I want to hear more from you...” He drawls in a low purr before leaning down to lavish your neck with kisses and little bites.

[lokittystuckinatree]

Happy Pride losers, I’m ready to be clowned but my dumb ass is now convinced Rogue is the Master…

Rogue and Renegade have eerily similar meanings under the right circumstance.

To rebel against an organized group. To go rogue.

An endearingly naughty person

Koschei, our second fave Renegade Time Lord

Apparently they were also called a Rogue Time Lord? I am not making this up.

Although Maestro is Master in Italian and look how that turned out

“Lord” interesting.

Red and Blue. The master and 13 were red and blue coded respectively. Have they switched, Symbolically?

Rogue was looking at the Doctor rather nefariously, even once they were buddies. Just go through some of the scenes again. It’s harder than you’d think to tell if he’s trying to seem seductive or evil

The entire premise of this ep seems to be “things are not as they seem; people are not as they appear” which is a Master staple

The Master has been haunting the fuck out of the narrative lately.

Here’s my thread on just how much

When I saw the first trailer, I instinctively thought “ballroom dance guy” was gonna be the new Master

The inside of Rogue’s (familiarly messy) ship has controls eerily similar to the configuration of a TARDIS.

Rogue is obviously a time traveler if he has that space ship and knows DnD (Rogue + Time + Lord. Oh?)

DnD might be a dead giveaway

Was Rogue’s name being inspired by DnD necessary to include? Cute thing the writers wanted to put in, or clue?

Why would Rogue know what DnD was but not know what cosplay or improv was?

The Master has been taken prisoner by the Toymaker, infamous for his love of? Games. You know who also has a running theme of “winning” and “losing”? The Master

In DnD you play as a character and rely on skill and chance to survive within the confines of a structured storytelling game. Bending the rules is often involved. The Master tried that against the Toymaker and failed.

DnD players will often have little tiny figurines of their characters. Remind you of anything?

the Master is a dnd rogue archetype. Trickster, lone wolf, shapeshifter.

If the Doctor is symbolically trapped in a TV show, is the Master trapped in a game? If the Toymaker is the DM, is he going rogue against the Toymaker?

The Master is infamous for their disguises and “cosplays” and has catfished the Doctor before.

Rogue is almost suspiciously too much the Doctor’s type. He’s like the love child of River Song and Jack Harkness. He is exactly the type of character the Master would create to lure and seduce the Doctor.

He and the Doctor just…get each other. It’s like they’ve known each other for much longer than a few hours. They’re too cushy (haha)

Rogue threatened to kill the Doctor, and then imprisoned him in a nice little cage. Familiar?

He tried to make the Doctor kill Ruby, who we all know is just Clara 2.0. Familiar?

He knows too much and too little

He knew the party was attended by alien birb people but only knew about one alien birb? And did he reaaaally think Doc was an alien bird?

The Dancing. They knew they wanted there to be a dance party before they even settled on a time period setting for the episode. Enough said.

The ring was…interesting

That’s a lot of commitment, even if only a promise ring. Something tells me he intended it as an engagement ring though

Someone tried to write a book in the 80s where 5 and Ainley were ex spouses, but it was shot down

Just an unrelated detail, but a ring on the pinky is a gay thing

Mirroring. Thoschei do that. A lot.

“You!” “No, you!” “no, you!”

The way they danced

The scene where they kept turning on and off the music

Speaking of music…Bad Guy by Billie Eilish? Too on the nose? Can’t get you out of my head? Poker face?

You remember that lady’s hand that picked up the Master in his widdle toof? Hand of the Rani?

This episode was written by two women. The Master would literally be in women’s hands

I remember watching Sacha Dhawan’s Spy Master for the first time and going…darn, he reminds me so much of Avengers era Loki. Kate Herron directed season 1 of the Loki Series and had a lot of creative control. Would it really be surprising if RTD (confirmed Loki fan) went to her for the Master after Sacha?

Didn’t Russell say he’s leaving the Master for “other writers?”

“The Master is parked” did he happen to park a Tardis disguised as an everyday spaceship???

In an interview, Kate said she and Briony designed Rogue to be the Doctor’s “equal”

References

“When I see him, I’ll know” and he is drawn to Rogue like a magnet.

“Travel with me” who must you be to want the Doctor to be your companion instead of vice verse

“We can argue across the stars”

“I’m in your head” + “can’t get you out of my head” + the Master being referenced multiple times in almost every episode since PoTD

“I’m trigger happy” feels really fucking intentional

He said “find me.” If he is the Master, the person he lost was the Doctor, (notice he said “them” and not “her” or “him?”) and the Master and Doctor always find each other.

Scream of the Shalka? And didn’t the Master fall through the floor like 40 times in Curse of Fatal Death? Richard E Grant was the Doctor in both of those.

For more, @bugeater77 and friends have this lovely thread

Guys CHECK MY REBLOG, RTD posted something wild.

[desertfangs]

Since you write a lot do you have tips for people who want to write more?

Hi, anon! I can sure try and tell you some of what works for me!

Ignore advice that you don’t find helpful (that includes these tips!)

Writing is a process, but your writing process is always going to be unique to you, so if something doesn’t work for you, trying to implement it is only going to make you miserable. Like some people will tell you to write every day, but sometimes the pressure of that is going to be too much. Basically anything that doesn’t work for you, chuck it in the bin. You don’t need it.

Put your word processor in full screen

I write in Scrivener, which has a “composition mode” but you can also just put your document on full screen to minimize distractions. That way it’s harder to flip over to check Discord or Tumblr or whatever. Of course, I still exit out of full screen every time I need to look something up in the thesaurus and then I end up spending 15 minutes screwing around on the internet so you know, it's not a perfect system.

Work on several things at once and don’t be afraid to step away if a story isn’t working

Granted, my writing method is like throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, so I tend to start a lot of stuff that fizzles out after a few paragraphs (or a few thousand words 😭😭) and I know juggling multiple things does not work for everyone.

I personally usually need at least 2 current WIPs, so I can switch to the second when I get stuck on the first. This means even while I’m ruminating on one fic, I’m writing another. But I have friends who literally can’t write on more than one project at a time or their brains will explode, so again, it’s just about what works best for you.

[BRACKETS]

If you’re stuck on something like a detail or a fact you need to look up or a piece of dialogue (“How the fuck would Lestat respond to THAT?” is my constant refrain, my cats are tired of hearing it), just put something in brackets like [Lestat replies with something flirty or witty] or [Fact check if X] or whatever it is, and then you can move on and keep going and not lose your momentum.

Set a Timer

If you're struggling to make yourself focus and write, set a timer for 10, 15, 25 minutes (whatever increment of time works for you!) and write until it goes off. You can keep going after if you're on a roll, or your can stop for a while, but it will get you into the mindset of writing. And even if that's all you do that day, hey, you wrote for 10 minutes!

Kill your need for perfection and that critic in your brain

I am still working on this but it’s true! You can make your WIP more perfect in editing. The old adage that you can’t fix a blank page is correct. And honestly, a lot of times I will write something and think ‘ugh this is no good’ and then go back and read it weeks later and really dig it. Or I figure out what it needs to make it better. (Or sometimes it still sucks and we just pretend it never happened.) But no one else has to see your first drafts! So don’t stress about making the first draft super good or agonize too much over word choice. Just get words on the page and worry about making it better later.

I hope you find some of that helpful, Anon!

[jazziejax]

𝐈. 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

Pairings- Priest!Art Donaldson x Reader, Priest!Patrick Zwieg x Reader

Summary- Odessa and Antoinette get a creepy letter in the mail

Warnings- religious talk, swearing, inside thoughts, not well written…

Jazzie’s Notes!- I just wanna preface this with saying that I don’t really know how to write this style of writing. I have to learn to write well in first person, but then if I do that, I would have to switch person to person all the time. Let if know if this is good or not, don’t be afraid to give feedback. Also, this isn’t meant to offensive to a religious group, I am religious myself. Sorry for any spelling errors!!!

Word Count- 5,313

Antoinette’s life was far from perfect. She lived in a crappy apartment in a sketchy part of New York with barely any money to afford to live. But she tended to find the bright side of most things. She shared said apartment with her best friend, and she always dreamed of living in New York. Plus, her job was a cute diner with a surprisingly stylish apron. She felt like one of those girls in the rom-com movies. Life could be worse.

“Hi, what can I help you guys with today?” The chipper voice of the young lady said as she pulled the notepad out of her blue apron pocket. She looked expectedly around the group that sat at the diner booth.

“Uh, can we get two French toast meals with the strawberry and whipped cream on them, no bacon or eggs on one of them? And two chocolate chip pancake meals with no whipped cream, just the bananas and blueberries. Four milkshakes, one chocolate with no cherry no whipped cream, one strawberry with the cherry and whipped cream, one vanilla with just the whipped cream, and another chocolate with the cherry and the whipped cream.” Said a blonde woman in one go, before looking up to smile at the waiter.

What a…hearty breakfast. Is it even breakfast time?

The girl squinted, caught off guard by everything that was thrown at her so fast, and didn’t write anything down past the ‘no eggs no bacon’ part. “Um, okay, yeah. I totally have all of that. I’m just gonna repeat it back to make sure it’s correct.” The curly-haired waiter smiled, looking down at the small amount of words scribbled on the yellow paper. Before she could even start talking, the blonde girl spoke up again.

“Oh, no need.” She smiled sweetly, which was obviously fake and condescending by the way she then waved the girl off before continuing the conversation she was in with her friends. Antoinette's eyes darted from one person to the next, utter shock but not surprised at how they all just continued to ignore her presence. She offered a small smile, whispering a small “Okay.” Before walking off to tell Lonny what she remembered of the order.

Which also didn’t go in her favor.

“Why the hell didn’t you write it down?” The older man asked, his New York accent thick on his tongue as she looked down at the small piece of paper the girl handed him.

I totally didn’t even think of that.

“I tried, she was going too fast and wouldn’t let me stay any longer to get it correct.” The girl whined. “I can tell you what I remember from my brain.”

My brain, what am I, seven years old? I need to expand my vocabulary.

“I don’t need what you have in your brain, I need the order on paper! I’m running a restaurant here, curly fry, not a school!” The grump yelled, before moving around the kitchen to continue to cook. Antoinette just stood there, arms stiff at her sides as her eyes drifted towards the open box where the orders got dropped off to see the more than half-empty restaurant. Her brows furrowed inwards only a smidge as she looked back over at her boss.

“Lonny, they’re the only people here.” She stated. All she got in response was the slam of the man’s fist against the metal table out of frustration. Not caring, or rather not paying attention, Antoinette continued. “I mean, them and the homeless guy that sleeps in the booth at the very back. And the occasional person with a laptop to charge.” She shrugged.

Lonny then turned, glaring from afar at the girl who was at least a foot taller than him. Granted, he was a short man.

“You’re lucky I like you curlyfry.” The man grumbled. “Now write down what you can remember then get back to work.” He hissed, turning to the batter he had before him. Antoinette was almost tempted to ask, what work? but refrained from making the situation worse. “Okay.” Was all she said before starting to scribble what she caught of the order on the paper.

My handwriting is atrocious, I need to work on that. Ooh, that’s a big word. Maybe my vocabulary isn’t so terrible. Hey, they do say bad handwriting is a sign of intelligence.

“Also, can you go kick out that homeless guy?” Lonny started, talking to the girl over his shoulder.

“Why can’t you?” She immediately asked, not even thinking over the statement. The older man threw his head back, letting out a deep sigh. “Because I’m working. Ya know, the thing you don’t do.”

Antoinette softly gasped in offense, placing a hand over her heart. “I work. I’m getting this order to you right now.” She said, tripping g the paper from the bit pad and sliding it over to the order station. “Plus, Joey’s gonna be here any second for my shift to end. Although a little late. He can handle it though.”

“Yeah, but I asked you, and I want it done now.” The man spat, never once looking back at the girl as he continued to make the dough for his bread at the cooking station.

“Well, I can’t because I have to wait.” She said, starting to take off her apron. Lonny screamed in annoyance, turning to face his employee. “What did I tell you about that word?!” He screamed desperation and anger in his tone.

“That it’s only used by stinky European teenage boys.” Antoinette related like a mantra at this point. “So stop it!” He yelled as she then tried to walk out of the kitchen, actually having to pee. “And what did I tell you about telling me when you have to pee.”

“I just thought you should know!” Antoinette yelled back through the closing kitchen door. She sighed, starting to continue her way to the bathroom before briefly pausing when she realized the table from earlier was now looking at her in irritation and confusion.

Great, they probably heard me talking about having to pee.

She smiled at them, her dimples being the cherry on top of her adorable face. “Your food will be out shortly.” She said as she encapsulated one hand in the other, voice now calm in contrast to her previous yelling. She went to walk about before stopping once more. “Hopefully.” She said before continuing, taking her apron off in the process and laying it on a hook in the back where her bag and coat were.

She wakes in the dingey bathroom, pulling down her pants and squatting over the bowl. Finally, in some semblance of peace, she had the same thoughts she had every time she used the bathroom at the diner.

My calves have to be extremely strong after doing this for four years. Can they hear me? Gosh, I hope they can’t hear me. I think I’d kill myself. Well no, I wouldn’t because that’s a sin.

Finished, the file looked over next to her for the toilet paper, seeing the roll bare but the sake of two thin sheets stuck to the adhesive. “Aw, man. No paper.” She said to herself. She then tried forward, scouring her mind for a solution to such a predicament. Here she was, leaning forward with her rosary handing in her face, squatted over the toilet seat with urine dripping from her privates.

Today couldn’t be any worse.

Just then, the door shot open and slammed into the girl's head. Antoinette yelped at the harsh contact, not even paying attention to the scream let out by the man above her as she focused on her now throbbing head and tried not to fall into the toilet bowl. “Dammit, Antoinette, lock the door next time.” The man groaned. Antoinette held her head as if her hand would bring some sort of red to the area.

“Ok, Joey can you go grab me some toilet paper? We’re out.” She said, trying to focus on how embarrassing this whole ordeal was.

“Uh, yeah, give me a sec.” He said through the door before drifting away.

Antoinette sighed, her head flopping down as she was once again left in that weird position, now even more embarrassed that someone saw her and that she was hit in the head. And it was her coworker.

Lord. I’m sorry but I must die today.

Joey then came back with a new roll of tissue, handing it to the girl through a crack in the bathroom door, even though he could see the girl in the small bathroom mirror. A few seconds after a flush and the sink running, Antoinette emerged with an awkward smile on her face to see Joey standing in front of the bathroom door.

“Hi.” Was all she said, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“Hey.” The taller olive-skinned man said back. They stood in front of each other for a few moments in silence.

“You should go—“

“Sorry about—“

They stared at the same time, pausing before awkwardly laughing.

“I was gonna say sorry about your head. I kinda just barged in.” Joey continued, smiling down at the girl in front of him.

“It’s fine, I was sitting there very awkwardly. Squatting rather.” She stared, brushing it off. “I was saying that you should head on in there and…do whatever you were going to do.” She shrugged. She could feel her heatwave pick up just being in his presence. And the longer she looked at him in those sultry brown eyes, the feeling of a hot pool started to rumble in her lower stomach. She might’ve been a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid.

Well, not entirely.

She knew she found Joey attractive, but the feeling she got when she stood too close to him was not okay in her book. It triggered her fight or flight, but instead of running away or throwing fists at him, she wanted to jump into his arms.

Yeah, I can’t do this. It’s time to leave.

“Well, it was nice speaking to you Joey, have a nice day. Oh, and Lonny wants you to remove the homeless guy from the booth in the back.” She spat out in a hurry as she grabbed her bag from the hook, along with her coat, and walked back to the front. She passed the table on her way out, seeing that they were now eating. “Oh, you guys got your food. Great.” She said with a small customer service smile as she continued walking.

“Yeah, our order is actually wrong—.” The woman from before couldn’t get out much more before Antoinette was cutting her off.

“Sorry, I’m off the clock. Bye.” She cheesed on her last words and walked out of the door, a bell ringing above her head. She scurried to the alley on the side of the building, to see her bike still double-chained to a random pipe in the next building over. It was basically a little game at this point to come around the corner and see if her bike was still there. Sighing in relief, she rushed over to the baby blue bike with a wicker basket in the front. She unclasped her key from her wrist and unlocked the heavy-duty chains she bought with her last few dollars when she moved to New York. This elderly couple had given her the bike when they saw the girl walking in the rain, saying it was their daughter’s old bike. But since the girl was lost and confused in a very nice neighborhood, she had to buy some chains so she didn’t get jacked before she could get to enjoy its labor.

The girl opened the basket in the front of her bike to place her chains into when she paused at the sight of something wrapped in the large bin. The thing was moving underneath the black cloth and Antoinette was just frozen. She glanced around at the alley to see if anyone was watching her but spotted not a single soul. Sighing, the girl reached out and pulled back the back fabric, being sure to keep her head as far away as she could whilst also being able to see within the basket. Seeing that whatever it was didn’t violently react to her movements, she eased forward to see a tuft of sandy white hair.

What in tarnation is this?

Now confused, the girl leaned forward and pulled the cloth back more to see two small kittens in her backseat, one was this sanely blonde color, the darker part of its body being its nose area and its tail. The other kitten was a mix of colors, mainly orange and black with white spots here and there. Antoinette’s heart immediately melted at the sight of the two kittens.

“Awww!” The girl said, pouting at the creatures who lay in her basket. Well, one creature lay while the other moved around in the basket as best as it could. “Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” The girl gushed as she lifted the blanket with them two in it to place the chains at the bottom of the basket. Once placing them back down, she looked at the cats, who eventually acknowledged the woman above them with tiny meows, as if they were speaking to her speaking voice. Antoinette nearly cried as she continued to fawn over the cute little animals.

“Yeah, you two are coming home with me.” She said as she mounted her bike and washed her way out of the alley. “Des is just gonna love you two!” She said excitedly, closing the top of her basket and riding off into the New York City streets.

“Why the hell are there kittens in the kitchen?” The light skin girl said as she walked into the small flat and hung her keys and coat near the door before turning to her right to see two kittens in the kitchen licking at a bowl of milk on the corner. Antoinette smiled at the girl as the light from her laptop reflected off her large glasses.

“Hello, Odessa.” The girl said formally laying one hand on top of another as she sat straighter in her seat. The lighter girl furrowed her brows, eyeing her friend across from her in the small kitchen.

“What do you have to say?” The girl demanded out of her rather than asked, already tired from a long work day and knowing Antoinette had something up her sleeve.

She’s sneaky for a catholic…Well, aren’t they all? According to history.

“Well, to answer your previous question, these cats are here because some holy being left them in my basket on my bike.” She started. She could see Odessa was about to speak again but she interrupted before she could. “And before you say anything discouraging, I’d just like to say I did some extensive research. The multicolored one is a calico kitten, and did you know that approximately one calico in 3,000 is male? And guess what? He’s male!” The girl with glasses said, faking her shock again to add to the dramatic value in front of Odessa. The leather-clad girl just leaned against the kitchen archway with her arms folded, face stoic. Seeing that Antoinette was waiting for some sort of reaction before she continued, the woman slightly opened her mouth to let out a small gasp, glancing over at the kitten near her feet.

Antoinette smiled before continuing. “And that quiet and mysterious beauty is a ragdoll kitten. They have an above-average life span, fully grown at 4 years old, quiet by nature, as you can tell. And they are one of the largest cat breeds out there, which is also kind of confusing because you’re supposed to mix other breeds to get a ragdoll cat.” She said, trailing off at the end as she looked at her laptop in confusion, those two facts not making much sense in her mind. Shaking off the thought, the spec-wearing girl looked over at her cooler friend, who just stared at her. Antoinette put on her best smile.

Well, not her best. She was sort of anxious about the whole situation so the smile was kind of awkward, the girl showing all of her adult teeth while her eyes waited on an answer, her brows giving away her concern.

After a moment of silence, the two just looking at one another, Odessa cracked first.

“We can’t keep the cats.” That was all she said before all hell broke loose.

“But, I did so much research on them! I could probably work as a veterinarian with all the knowledge I know now.” The girl in pink whined.

Odessa just started, moving to put her hands in the pockets of her leather pants, the tattoos on her arms showing.

“It was basically a sign from God- well the universe that I’m meant to keep them. They just appeared in my basket, begging for my care.” She continued, changing her words when she saw the girl's brow spike at the mention of the guy up above. That still didn’t get a reaction out of the girl, Odessa just moved across the small kitchen and past the tiny table to the fridge. Antoinette followed her moments within her seat, desperation etched into her face.

“I mean, it won’t cost us much. I can use the bin we use for our socks as their litter box and just use sand from the cigarette pot downstairs.” I’m grasping at freaking straws here.

Odessa turned around once she had the beer in her hands and used the counter to pop the lid off. “And for now we can just give them milk, ya know since we always have some that go bad and we’re lactose intolerant anyway.” She continued, taking her glasses off her face to look at her friend.

Odessa cringed at her words, and leaned against the counter now, which was only about three feet away from the other girl. “That sounds like a terrible life for these poor kittens, Antoinette. And us.” She said before taking a swig of her beer. “We can’t afford them.”

“I mean, it's not like we’re poor. We can take care of them.”

“We have a box television in the year 2023…” Odessa started, “And it’s not even in our living room, it’s in the kitchen and it’s the size of a basketball.” She finished, pointing over to the small television on the corner of the table that softly played reruns of old television shows with the antenna that aimed at the small kitchen window. “We don’t even have fucking cable.”

“Language,” Antoinette muttered. “I mean, at least we get to watch Sex & The City and Living Single for free.” She smiled over at Odessa, who gave her a simple stare. “We can’t afford them, Bennie.” She said softly.

Antoinette then deflated, shoulders sagging as she leaned back in the old wooden chair. She had lost all hope as soon as the girl said that name, Odessa only calling her that when she was serious about something. Mainly because Odessa hated nicknames. “Okay, I’ll find them somewhere tomorrow.” She softly whined before putting her head in her hands. Odessa pursed her lips in sadness, patting the girl on the shoulder for comfort before making her way out of the kitchen. It only took her about three steps before she was in what most would call a living room, but Odessa liked to call it her room. Since it essentially was her room.

The far wall was made of brick, with a green couch in front of it that let out into her bed and a small back circle table in the middle, on top of an ugly carpet.

The girl sighed as she turned and dropped down onto the couch, letting her back hit the seat cushions. The old ceiling light hurt her eyes and made her already terrible hangover headache worse, so she threw her arms over her eye, placing her face in her elbow. Getting home late last night from one of her small concerts, she liked to call them, at the bar she worked at, she got a little too wasted. It was a recurring theme for her honestly.

Get up, go to work at the bar, wait till 10 to start performing, do that until about 2 am, get drunk afterward and either go home with whoever she decides to lay with that night or go to her humble abode. She didn’t perform every night, but when she did, that was usually the routine. And now she was suffering the consequences of getting drunk and staying up until 5 am when she had to work only hours later. At least she didn’t perform tonight, now she could stay in longer since it was only 6.

Her head becoming too much, the girl sat up from the couch to head to the bathroom to see if she could salvage some pain pills. But before she could, the sight of a pile of letters caught her eye. Reaching over, she grabbed the small pile to sort through.

Bill, bill, bill, creepy letter, postcards, bill, rent, perfume samples…What the hell?…

Odessa paused at the sight of the letter, the off-white paper wax-sealed with a red stamp. She squinted, looking at the seal to see if she knew the symbol from somewhere. Looking at it in just the wax form, she couldn’t quite make it out but she knew it looked familiar. Standing up, she kept her eyes on the letter as she walked back to the kitchen.

“Did you see this creepy ass letter in the mail?” She asked, standing the the archway and turning the letter to face Antoinette, who had her head propped on her chin as she sadly looked at places where she could drop the kittens off. Speaking of kittens, they now lay in the girls’ lap, curled into one another in almost a yin and yang symbol.

Antoinette looked up, squinting at the girl who was blurry since she didn’t have on her glasses. Odessa walked forward, placing the letter in front of her roommate.

Placing her spec on, Antoinette inspected the letter more, immediately recognizing the symbol. She furrowed her brows, glancing up at the even more confused Odessa. Gliding her long bare nails under the wax seal, she popped the envelope open and pulled out the letter. “Ohh, handwritten.” She said to herself as she looked at the unfolded paper.

She was silent as she read through the letter, causing Odessa to just stand before her and wait for the girl to speak. She watched Antoinette read the letter, her face going through a mix of emotions. First, her brows raised in surprise in the beginning as she hummed in contempt. Then her eyes widened as she continued before she got to the end of the letter and gasped.

“What is it?! You’re making my blood pressure rise.” Odessa said, watching the girl intensely.

“It’s from Saint Mary’s.” She started, not looking up to see Odessa cringe at the words. “They said a lot has changed in the last four years. Mother Agnes died, and they refurbished the church and built it. And they even have new staff, but the community is failing. They sent letters to all the kids that grew up in the foster home to see if they’d come to work there to improve their quality of life. Pay and free housing included.” She finished, looking up at the girl before her.

Neither of them could look each other in the eyes at the news, both of them still processing everything. Mainly the information about Mother Agnes dying. There was a sense of relief as if the girls had been haunted by everything that woman did to them. And in a sense, they were. They’ve endured too much pain at the hands of Mother Agnes. So much pain that they had to live with their whole lives, and leaving there didn’t help as much as they thought it would. They just now had a place to express such feelings out loud. Although they never did. Conditioning at its finest. Just thinking about their youth made Odessa want to break down and cry after so many years of pushing those memories away. And Antoinette…she could have a panic attack just being back at such a place.

After a moment of silence, Antoinette read over the letter again and again while Odessa just started in thought, someone finally spoke.

“We should do it.” She said softly, not looking up in fear of Odessa’s reaction.

“And why the hell would we do that?” The other girl asked harshly, offended that Antoinette even thought of such a possibility.

“Because it could help.” She answered softly. “We could use the money.”

“We have money. You and I both work.”

“You said it yourself, Des,” Antoinette said looking up, her hands slightly shaking as she played with the letter in her hands. The thought of going back wasn’t doing her psyche any good, but she felt as if this was a good opportunity. Maybe this could be good for us. “We don’t have the money.”

“I said that about your cats. Me and you are living just fine.” Odessa spat, her words harsh as she looked down at the darker-skinned girl. Antoinette subtly flinched at her tone, looking back down at the letter in her hands. Odessa saw her small movements and immediately felt bad, she wasn’t making the situation any better.

“It could be good for us.” Antoinette started again, not looking up this time. “We could go there and help out. Make it a better place than it was when we were there. Be nicer to the children so they…don’t end up like us.” She said. Her words hung in the air for a moment. “I mean, what other place is gonna offer us free housing and a job?”

“We go back just so we can be in debt to those people?” Odessa stated, ignoring what the girl previously said about helping the children. “So they can treat us like some charity case? Like they did when we were foster children?” She continued to ask, staring at the top of Antoinette’s head since she refused to lift her eyes from the wax she was ripping off the paper envelope. “I’m not going through that again, not for some people who didn’t give a damn about us then.”

“There’s new people.”

“Yeah, and who do you think taught them what they know?” She asked, folding her arms. There was a thick silence between them.

Antoinette nodded, never looking up. “You're right.” She closed her old laptop and adjusted the kittens into her arms. She then tucked her laptop under her arm and stood up. “I’m gonna go to bed now, good night.” She said softly, walking past Odessa and into the small room on the other side of the living room. Odessa sighed, placing her head into her head as she heard the girl's door softly close from her place in the kitchen.

Antoinette didn’t come out of her room after that, but Odessa could hear her shuffling around in the very small space. She now lay on her bed couch, looking over at the skinny door every time she heard the slightest moment from the room. She would wait to see if the girl would come out in the middle of the night like she always did to ask her random questions, say a random fact, or go to the kitchen to get some water and get caught up in the small television. But none of that ever came.

As soon as Odessa thought sleep was about to finally meet her halfway, she got caught in the words Antoinette said earlier. About helping the children.

Now, Odessa was far from a children's type of person. She was far from a people person, honestly, but she had to make a living somehow. So, for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she was so affected by the girl's words as soon as they left her mouth. But deep down, she knew why. And so did Antoinette.

Even in the foster home, Odessa would always protect the younger kids from punishment. Taking all their lashing so she didn’t have to hear the cries of children being hurt. Antoinette is one of those kids when the others would blame things on her. And she would take their pain with no words since the age of fourteen. She never vocally expressed the pain she felt emotionally, mentally, and definitely not physically. That mentality infuriated Mother Agnes to the point she would single the girl out and beat the girl harder to see if she could make her break. But Odessa only let tears slip when she was alone.

Now Antoinette didn’t know the severity her words would have on Odessa’s mind, so she couldn’t blame the girl. But she knew that the girl was right. Odessa would do anything in her power to make sure no other kids ended up like her. She would do anything to not hear the cries of pain from children who busted and wanted to be accepted and loved.

And with that thought, she got up from the bed and walked over to Antoinette’s room. She opened the small door that led to the tiny room to see the girl’s back facing the door, looking out the window at the city as she lay in bed and petted the two cats.

“I changed my mind.” She said softly.

Antoinette glanced over her shoulder. “About the cats?” She started. “Nah, I think you’re right. I don’t think I can care for them properly.” She said sadly, turning to look back out of the window.

“No, not about the cats,” Odessa stated.

There was a pause between the two, Antoinette processing the girl's words. She then sat up in her bed and turned to face the girl at her door, five feet away from her. “What made you change your mind?” She asked softly.

“You were right. About everything.” She shrugged, biting her lip. She was anxious about the whole situation. Coming to such a conclusion about her feelings and the thought of going back to the town brought more bad memories than good. But also to how her best friend would react. But that was all washed away when she saw the girl smile.

“Can I bring the cats?” She asked, pointing to the sleeping kittens in her bed. Odessa giggled, looking at the pleading smile on her friend's face.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, they’ll have more space to grow. Its a better life than here.” She said shrugging.

Antoinette then gasped. “Oh! Now I can get one of those cute wax melt sets so I can’t write back to them.” She smiled excitedly. “Oh, this is gonna be so great!”

Odessa smiled at the girl's excitement. “Now get some sleep, we have some things to sort out before we head up.” That was all she said before she closed the door behind her and made her way back to bed. She let out one final sigh before closing her eyes and letting sleep take her away.

Antoinette smiled at the door as it closed before looking down at the animals at her side. “Ya see, prayers do get answered, guys.” She said, holding up her right hand that was wrapped in her rosary, showing it to the sleeping cats. “Oh, you guys can’t hear me. Or understand me. Or understand religion. I need to go to bed.” She hugged before plopping down onto her pillow with an anxious smile and closing her eyes.

Let me know if you guys like the story and if you’d liked to be added to the taglist!!!

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Don’t Let It In - Jake Kiszka AU

A/N: Demon!Jake alternate universe because… it’s all I could think of thanks to this song. I’ve kinda put my own spin on what an incubus can do. Some of this I really just went with as I wrote. I am so excited to give y’all this one. It was wayyy too much fun to write. I love you all so much <;3

WARNINGS: 18+ minors DNI! This definitely may not be everyone’s cup of tea!! Demon!Jake, brief talk of being dead, soft!dom Jake, fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking, multiple orgasms/forced orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

There it was again. That out of place, unexplainable, sound coming from the other room, forcing eerie chills to shoot through you.

It was only you in the apartment and had been for months now. So you thought…

Random noises had been putting you on edge for weeks now. You never found their sources, or anything that may debunk their origins.

You laid in bed, trying to just brush it off. In your mind, there was no point in dwelling on what was probably just a wall or floorboard creaking, or maybe even your neighbors.

Then it happened again, but twice as loud. It was absolutely not a natural noise in the slightest and it was far too loud for you to believe it came from one of the surrounding apartments.

All of the color in your face was surely draining as you tossed the blankets off of your body. You didn’t have much of a choice but to go scope it out, so that’s what you did.

You worked your way slowly down the hallway first, flicking on every light as you went.

Nothing.

The living room was next. You flicked all of those lights on and looked around…still nothing.

Your kitchen and little laundry room were the only place left to look.

Slipping around the corner, you switched on the light and were met with yet another vacant room.

You blew out a defeated, frightened and confused huff, glancing around dumbfounded. That unsettling feeling was still sitting heavy in your gut and not finding the culprit of the noises was just making it worse.

Trying to push the feeling away, you opened up the fridge and reached in for a bottle of water.

“Mind grabbing me one too, while you’re at it?”

The voice belonging to a man sent you crashing into the floor, condiments and such that were sitting in the door of the fridge, crashed down on top of you as you fell - startled and absolutely horrified.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of you, extending a beautiful hand down to you.

“Who… who the fuck are you?” you asked, barely getting the words out at all. “Get the fuck away from me,” you didn’t even let him answer before you were hissing the words at him.

“I’m Jake,” he smirked - a beautiful and intoxicating smirk. You couldn’t help but stare at his face, entranced beyond comprehension. He pushed his hand closer to you again, silently encouraging you to take it. “And I’ve been here for a while. Nice of you to finally notice.”

You glared at his hand, pushing yourself up from the floor on your own and slowly closing the refrigerator door.

“I would highly recommend getting the fuck out of my apartment,” the words were like pure venom. You didn’t even sound like yourself. “I already called the cops.”

You hadn’t really… yet, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You really want me out?” he asked you smugly, as though you’d be missing out on something spectacular if he left.

“Yes! Get. The fuck. out!” you said again, raising your voice a little louder.

“Okay.” His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug, and then he was gone.

You froze in your spot, eyes flicking around frantically. Your brain couldn’t process what had just happened and you started to get hot, feeling as though you were losing every bit of your mind.

The rush of heat, quickly followed by intense chills made your body tremble.

Maybe it was just the wine I had earlier, you thought to yourself. Even still, that was hours ago. There was no way in hell that any of that madness was the product of a little white wine.

In light of trying to calm your nerves, you went back to your bedroom and stripped down from your clothes, figuring a cold shower might help you feel… something. Anything other than the fear surging through you.

You cut on the water, turning the knob as cold as it would go and stepped in. A groan of discomfort erupted from you, the cold temperature sending an unpleasant aching feeling through your body.

But it wasn’t enough. There was still a burning feeling inside you that wouldn’t go away. It felt like… raging need. Something so insatiable that it might drive you to insanity if it didn’t go away soon.

Your nipples grew painfully hard as you stood underneath the freezing water.

You turned around and turned around again. No matter how long you stayed under the streams of water, it did nothing.

A dull ache formed between your legs; so intense you were afraid you might crumble to the floor of the shower.

“Have you had enough yet?”

There he was. His voice filled the small bathroom with ease, low and raspy. You could see nothing but his shadow through the glass shower door.

You gasped loudly, clutching onto your chest with your hand. Fighting to catch your breath, you crouched down in the shower.

After a minute, you - unwisely - slid the glass door open.

There he was, fully clothed, leaning up against the sink with that smirk that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, no matter how badly you wanted to. He stared at you for a moment before pushing away from the counter.

As he stepped closer, you moved back - until you were trapped in the corner of the shower, where you sank down to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest with your face buried into them.

“Oh, beautiful girl,” He cooed softly, voice smooth as a silken breeze. His finger, warm and gentle, tucked itself beneath your chin. “Don’t be scared.”

“Don’t. Touch me.” You pulled your face away, avoiding his mischievous and lust filled eyes.

“I don’t have to.” A soft laugh trots out of him, warming your body up again despite the freezing water still falling from above you. “See?”

His finger retreated from your chin - that debilitating, throbbing between your legs replacing it instantaneously.

Your body tensed and burned, a pitiful whine fluttering out of you as the throbbing slowly grew more and more intense.

“You sound so beautiful.” Jake purred, watching you intently. “It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it?” His hand traced up the muscle of you calf, pushing your leg down when his hand reached just above your knee. His hand continued upwards, tracing over your lips with a featherlight touch. “That feeling right here…”

You wanted to scream and cry and fight him. Shove him away with every ounce of your being. His touch was just so addicting... Against every sane part of your mind, you didn’t fight him.

“Please…” You whimpered, eyes closed tightly and arms still clung around your upper body.

“Please,” He mimicked you, a sickeningly playful edge to his voice. “Don’t you know better, darling? Don’t you know if you let me in, I’ll just keep coming back for more and more?”

“Take me, then.” You begged boldly, slowly mustering up the courage to look up at him. “Just take me.”

“Oh, no, darling.” Jake shook his head, that smirk coming back to play once again. “I could never take you from here. You’re far too beautiful…” His hand is suddenly grazing the softness of your cheek. “But i’ll have my fun with you…until i’ve had enough.”

Jake reached up, turning the knob to shut off the water. He hauled you up in his arms far too easily, carrying you out of the shower and back into your bedroom.

“So… so you’re not gonna hurt me…?”

A scoff shook out of him, as though he was slightly offended by your question. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have already.”

“How comforting.” You uttered against better judgement.

Jake stopped in his tracks, staring down at you with blackened eyes. Your body exploded with a new sensation, like some sort of controlled, overly-powerful, never ending, orgasm of some sort.

Your head fell back over his arm, your mouth hanging open - feeling paralyzed by the pleasure he was sending through you without remorse. You could feel your lungs trying to force out some sort of noise, a plea, anything.

“I would highly suggest you use some fucking sense when you speak to me.” Jake laughed darkly. He stared down at you in amusement, watching you aimlessly struggle to gain control of your own body in his arms.

Finally, he stopped. You sucked in a strangled gasp, fighting to refill your lungs with air as your body fell limp in his arms.

“I… I’m sorry…” you panted, releasing your death grip on his shirt as he eased you down on the bed. “How… How do you do that?”

Jake tilted his head to the side, acting as though he didn’t know what you were asking about - even though he definitely did.

“How do I do what, darling?” he asked, climbing over top of your naked body.

“How can you make me feel things without touching me?” Your heart pounded against your ribcage, eyes fixed on his mouth where that beautiful smirk was residing once again.

He moved to sit between your parted legs, resting his weight back on the heels of his feet.

“When you’re dead, you can do whatever it is that you want,” Jake answered. “I just so happen to find joy in making pretty girls cum over and over, until they’re screaming and crying for just a sliver of my mercy.” He shrugged as if he was speaking the most casual words you’d ever hear in your life.

You stared at him, unable to form a single coherent thought in your mind. He was far too beautiful to be scared of and you were silently kicking yourself for wanting to drop your whole life, and let him take you wherever he so pleased.

His hands splayed over the bones of your shins, trailing them up slowly until they reached your thighs.

“I will say, you’re the first one that’s not put up much of a fight...” Jake’s observation seemed to intrigue him, judging by the curious expression and tilt of his head.

One of his hands traced farther up your thigh and glided over your hip and lower belly, eliciting a short burst of a tremble. His smirk widened then, watching your skin quiver and form goosebumps beneath his featherlight touch.

“Pretty girl,” he cooed, smiling at the way your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “Such a sensitive little thing. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Please,” you quietly begged, pressing your body into his touch.

“Hold it, angel…” Jake’s hand traced up your sternum, his body starting to lean over yours as he stretched his arm. “It’s far too early to be begging.”

His other hand cupped itself over your dripping core, cradling it as he continued to explore the rest of your body with his other hand. His lips, warm and plush, connected with your belly, kissing and biting gently at the soft skin.

Your body reacted so intensely to him. The wetness leaking out of you was surely pooling in his hand as he held it over you. Anywhere his hands or mouth touched, burned and tingled in their wake. He was making your heart flutter and pound erratically, light whimpers fluttering out of you on nearly every exhale of breath.

“You’re so worked up already, aren’t you, angel?” he taunted, pulling his hand away from your core. “Look at that,”

You lifted your head, eyes landing on his pretty hand where - just as you had guessed - your own juices had just barely pooled.

“You’re a needy thing, huh?” Jake raised an eyebrow down at you, staring down at you in the most degrading way imaginable.

“Jake-“

“-Shhh…” he hushed you immediately, bringing his hand up to your mouth. “Taste yourself, darling. I bet you’ve never done that, have you?”

“Not… not in a while,” you admitted, cautiously taking his wrist in your hand to pull his hand a little closer.

You gently glided your tongue over his fingers and palm, tasting the sweetness of yourself off of them.

“Atta girl.” He watched you intently, smiling at the way you hummed against his skin.

“Don’t be greedy,” he spoke, pulling his hand away.

Jake slid his own fingers into his mouth slowly, holding your gaze as he did so. A whine bursts out of you, watching him taste you sending a new rush of wetness to your heat.

“Kiss me,” you begged with an urgency, reaching up to pull his as close as you could get him.

“Ah-” Jake stopped your movements. “-Don’t you know better?” he asked, taking your jaw and tilting your head to the side, attaching his lips to your neck in a few spots. “If I kiss you, that will be your soul. I won’t be able to let go… neither will you. You’ll be damned to hell with me if you let me in like that.”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. “Just take me. Take me, please?”

“Did I not tell you already?” Jake growled firmly, turning your head back to look you in the eyes. “You’re. Too pretty. To take. And I won’t tell you that again.”

His grip moved from your jaw to your throat, his other shooting between your legs to your core.

“You won’t want to come with me after I’m done with you, anyway,” Jake assured you, a cockiness suddenly playing around in his tone. His index and middle fingers connected with your clit, he didn’t move them, but kept a firm pressure against the sensitive bud. “Once i’ve drained you of everything you could possibly give me and then some.”

You squirmed against his fingers, your clit throbbing incessantly against the pressure he was keeping pressed into it.

That pressure in the pit of your stomach that he was making you rapidly too familiar with, started to spring to life. The harder you writhed, the firmer his hand around your throat became.

“Don’t be afraid of it, sweet girl.” Jake slowly started to circle his fingers, even though he knew could make you cum without doing so. “Just let me make you cum. Can you do that? Let me make this pretty pussy cum for me over and over?”

“Jake, Jake, oh god Jake,” his name was like a chant leaving your lips.

“Yeah, there you go…” Jake’s hand retreated from your neck, sliding his arm underneath your back to cradle you to him. “Say my name again, pretty girl. Sounds so good coming from you.”

“Jake, please, it feels so- it’s-“

“Yeah? Feels so good?” Jake taunted, dipping his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. “Aww, I know it does, angel.”

“Oh god, oh my god, i-“ your voice broke as loud whine ripped it’s a way out of you.

Your body unfolded right then at Jake’s will, the power of the orgasm unlike anything that a human could ever make you feel.

Your hand flew down to Jake’s wrist, clinging to it for dear life.

“Fuck Jake, I can’t - stop,” you whimpered breathlessly, fighting with the overstimulation cursing through your whole body. “Jake!”

“Uh uh, baby.” Jake slid his arm out from under your back, taking both of your wrists in his now free hand and pinning them above your head. “Don’t fight me, give me another one.”

You felt one of his fingers sink into your entrance, mind altering confusion taking over your brain as you still felt the debilitating pressure of his fingers over your clit.

Jake noticed your look of utter shock, a pleased grin pulling at his lips.

“Neat little trick, isn’t it, angel?” he asked smugly, pushing in a second finger to join in with the first.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into your head like you were being possessed. In a way, you figured you mind of were being possessed.

Jake’s face mimicked yours in the most heart stopping, mocking way imaginable. The smile that formed just after watching your cheeks blaze red, yielded the same mocking aura.

“Such a gorgeous face,” Jake purred, eyes scanning over your features attentively. “Could look at it forever.”

“Don’t say that to me,” you pleaded, severely disliking the way he was making you feel - only to leave you with his likely painful absence soon enough.

“I’m just telling you what I see,” Jake stated.

“Don’t talk to me- like that-“ you choked out, back arching away from the bed with a particular curl of his fingers.

“Fuck, Jake!”

“Remember what I said earlier?” Jake asked cooly, staring down at you with black eyes like he had done before. “When I said to watch how you speak to me? Yeah, that wasn’t a suggestion.”

A wail of pleasure erupted from you. That suffocating feeling of intense pleasure that he had placed over you in the shower, and as he carried you to the bed, took over your body again. You felt your sanity crumbling, just out of your reach to try and save it from crashing to the ground.

You clenched and fluttered around his ungodly, skilled fingers. The haunting touch that remained over your clit, throwing you headfirst into another orgasm.

“Ugh- Jake…” your voice croaked out, barely above an audible level.

Jake ignored you, curling his fingers into that sweet spot inside you and holding them there.

A squeal bounced off the walls of your room, your body jolting so hard you managed to slip one of your arms from his grip above your head.

“Alright, alright,” Jake relented with a dark chuckle. “I’ll give you a break, little angel.”

Jake’s idea of a break and your idea of a break, were obviously extremely different.

He removed his fingers from you, leaving your fluttering pussy and overstimulated clit to rest for a bit. Bringing his drenched fingers to his mouth, he sucked them clean once again with a low, satisfied hum. It made you wonder how his mouth would feel.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get that too,” Jake smirked, reading your mind loud and clear. “I would be a fool to leave here without tasting you first.”

The mention of his impending departure sent a pang of tightness through your chest. You would never have enough of him. You never wanted to reach the point of having had ‘enough.’

You laid against the blankets of your bed, already spent and drained to an unthinkable degree. Yet, it was clear he wasn’t quite done with your poor body.

Jake had fallen eerily quiet, transfixed on your chest. He was contemplating something, but what, you weren’t sure.

His eyes flicked up to yours with a mischievous and unnerving glint in them. He moved to lay over top of you, a firm hand on your sides, his face coming perfectly level with your breasts.

“Let’s have some more fun now, yeah?” Jake flashed you the quickest wink. It was posed as a question, but you new you didn’t exactly have a choice.

His mouth, warm and soft, wrapped around your left nipple. His tongue teased over it, delivering deliberate and firm flicks of his tongue.

Your body succumbed to a new type of pleasure, starting in a whole new place and pushing outward throughout the rest of you.

Jake pulled away, eyes darting up to yours that watched him.

“Ooh, she likes that.”

“Mhm,” you hummed softly, nodding down at him. “Please, more Jake.”

“More?” Jake echoed the word back, kissing around your nipple, teasingly avoiding it. Then, he finally let you in on what he must have been thinking not long before.

“Think you can come for me just from this?” Jake sucked your right nipple into his mouth this time, only for a second before letting it go with a soft pop. “From me playing with these?”

“I don’t… I… no?” You stumbled to find an answer. You didn’t really know if it was possible.

“That was a trick question, darling.” Jake giggled, squeezing your sides roughly. “I can make you cum however I want.”

“I can’t- I don’t know if I can again,” you sighed. Your mind naively still believing that there had to be limits to what he could make your body do.

You just knew there had to be… But there weren’t.

“It’s endearing, really-” Jake huffed a laugh, sliding his hands straight up to cup each side of your breasts. “-how fucked out you are already. Nothing I say is getting absorbed in that pretty head of yours at all.”

His mouth reconnected with one of your nipples, paying it his undivided attention like it was all he knew.

Little noises bubbled out of you as he worked his magic over you - quite literally in some sense.

In light of not wanting the other to be left out and wanting to see how your body reactions, Jake took your other nipple between his thumb an index finger, pinching and tugging and rolling it. Completely out of your control, your chest pressed into him and a squeak of a noise slipped from you.

The tightening between your legs felt so out of place - considering there was no attention being given to that area of your body.

“Jake…?” you squeaked out, somehow sounding like a question.

A soft, “hmm?” was all he offered you.

You were too focused on the strange sensation building inside you, to even recall what you even spoke his name for - other than it was slowly becoming the only thing your brain could remember.

It felt so similar to that of a normal orgasm, but so different all at once.

Jake switched his mouth to the other nipple, his hand quickly replacing his mouth on the one he’d just abandoned.

“You feel that?” he asked quickly, before bringing your nipple back into his mouth. “You gonna cum all pretty for me?”

“Shit, yes-” You sunk one hand into his hair, the other fisting the silk of his shirt. “-I felt it, I feel it. I’m gonna-”

The new kind of orgasm took over you body in the blink of an eye, washing over you with a different kind of intensity all together.

“Jake, please! Jake,” you cried, feeling as though you had little to no control over your body anymore.

Jake released your nipples from his mouth and fingers, but began a trail of hot kisses down your abdomen and lower belly. He was steadily working his way back down, to the part of your body that you wanted him to stay far away from and focus solely on all at once.

“No, no, no, nononono,” you babbled, nearly incomprehensible. Your hand still in his hair tugged roughly, trying to jerk him away from your body. “Please, no more, Jake. No more.”

“‘No more, Jake, no more’,” he shot back in a whiny tone, closely resembling yours. “You’re such a whiny fuckin’ thing. Have I told you that yet, angel?”

“No…” you answered weakly, swallowing down a sob as he placed a kiss over your slick folds.

“Just a couple more, sweet little angel,” he said it like a promise. “Just-“ he placed another kiss over your clit. “-a couple-“ pausing once more, he flicked his tongue over it. “-more.”

Jake’s arms wrapped themselves around your thighs, holding you against his face as he began to teasingly work over your heat with his skilled tongue. No matter how much you tried to buck and jerk your hips away, it proved useless. His grip was far stronger than anything you could ever go up against, even on one of your strongest days.

His mouth brought you closer and closer by the second, coaxing that raging fire in the deepest part of you that should have long fizzled out already. Not on his watch though. That delicious, burning ache inside you was drawing out the prettiest sounds his ears had ever been graced by.

Your sounds grew louder and louder, another erupting from your lungs before the first sound could even stop echoing around the room - creating some sort of obscene harmony of moans.

“God, you sound so beautiful when you’re close,” Jake groaned against you, dull nails digging crescent moons into your hips. “Why would I ever want to stop making you cum?”

A glass shattering scream erupted from deep within you, your body arching and thrashing around unceremoniously. Your eyes were screwed so tightly shut, it was dangerously close to giving you a headache.

Sob after sob of merciless pleasure shook out of your lungs, all while Jake’s low laugh vibrated against you.

Even after Jake’s mouth had left your core to momentarily rest, soft sobs continued to shudder out of you. Thanks to your eyes still being closed, hot tears pouring from the edges like there was a broken seal, you didn’t notice his eyes soften for the split second that they had.

“Poor thing,” Jake spoke softly. He let go of your legs and you felt his weight shift, the back of his hand suddenly stroking the tears from your cheeks.

You tried your best to ignore the fake sympathy it was drenched in, despite the softness of which the two little words were spoken.

“Open those eyes, pretty girl,” Jake commanded gently. “C’mon.”

You opened your eyes for him, trying to blink away the remaining tears. Once your vision cleared, your eyes widened and unashamedly drank in Jake’s now naked body.

“There they are,” Jake smirked down at you, taking immediate notice of your gawking. “You still with me? Kinda…?”

“I’m breathing,” you mumbled dryly, drawing a genuine giggle from him.

Fighting to find the words, you continued. “Still want you to fuck me. Please…”

“I’ve drained you of nearly everything you have and you still want me to fuck you?” Jake grinned, dipping his head down to kiss along your collarbone.

“You’re going to anyway,” you said matter-of-factly.

Jake huffed a laugh into your neck at your astute observation. “Well… yeah. But you want me to.”

“…M’not ready for you to go yet…” you admitted quietly, hesitation clear in your voice.

“Not gonna leave you yet, angel,” he assured you, carefully lining himself up at your entrance.

Jake pushed himself in slowly, cursing along with you as he stretched you out. He made pain feel so delightful, pain was starting to not even register as pain anymore.

“God damnit, you feel so fucking good,” Jake rasped out, planting his hands on either side of your head. “Been waiting to do this for so long.”

“How- fuck, Jake-“ you struggled to get the words out through your moans. “-How long have you- been here?”

“A long time, angel,” Jake answered simply. “Long time.”

It was unsettling to say the least, but you were too lost in the otherworldly pleasure of Jake’s cock sharply thrusting into you to care, or spend too much time dwelling on it.

Each of his thrust sent shock waves through your body; from your core, out to your toes, to the tips of each of your fingers.

The moans coming from you both mixed together, tangling in the air in their own little lust-drunken dance.

Your hands clawed at the backs of Jake’s shoulders, fighting the urge to force him down on top of you and crash your lips into his. That’s all you could think about… just one kiss.

One kiss was all you needed. All you wanted.

Jake dropped down to one of his forearms, his other hand snaking between your two flaming bodies to connect with your clit.

“Ah, Jake- just- just cum without me, please,” your voice strained as you begged him. “Please, Jake, please!”

“Shut up and cum with me,” Jake commanded, bending your body to his every will and command yet again.

You unwisely fought with your own body, holding off your orgasm until Jake was starting to fall just over his own edge.

Jumping at his moment of weakness, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and used every bit of energy you had left to pull yourself up and connect your lips with his.

“Fuck!” Jake all but yelled against your lips, but couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

Your own mind-numbing orgasm swallowed you up not even seconds later. You sent moan and cry, after moan and cry into Jake’s mouth.

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Jake sighed exasperatedly, trying to stable himself from his high - all while trying to process what you’ve done.

“I needed it,” you breathed out.

“You needed to kiss me more than you needed to live?” Jake chided lightly, glaring down at you. “I told you, you’re too pretty for me to take…”

“What? Am I dead now?” You questioned, far less panicked than you had expected to be.

“Not… not exactly,” Jake sighed. “We’re tied…” his hand slid up your throat to your jaw, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Which means eventually, I’ll become so obsessed with you, that I have no choice but to drag you to hell with me.”

@shutupdevvie @jake-kiszkas-smirk @belovedsamuel @gardensgatedaisy @ageofbarbarians @theweightofjake @theweightofstardust @stardustndreamsofgold @positivegvfthings @gretasmokerising @jordierama @jordie-gvf @juliensbakery @doodle417 @gvfpal @gretavanbitches @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @greta-van-chaos @skankforjakekiszka @sarakay-gvf @teddiie @colorstreammind @ofburningskies @of-infinite-wonders @why-ami-on-here @lunaindigoraven @samkooszka @mamavanheat @rhythm-of-space @ascendingtostardust @laurenlovesgretavanfleet

[pigeonwhumps]

Courtroom

MD-264N masterlist

So um. You may notice this is not my Whumptober story. This is bc my brain decided it would only write this today. But enjoy anyway! At least I'm writing more than a sentence or two again!

Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @den-of-evil @dustypinetree @cardboardarsonist @skittles-the-whumpee

@whatwhumpcomments @whump-tr0pes @snakebites-and-ink @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds

@a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

An AU of MD-264N based on this prompt by @lumpywhump. Morgan goes on trial.

1.4k

CWs: living weapon whumpee, minor whump (discussed), past minor whump, meltdown, unintentional attempted self-harm (head banging), guns, gunshots

"I do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Asha glances across at Morgan worriedly. This is the make-or-break evidence of the trial, she's sure of it, she hasn't seen what Blue has to present but she's seen the medical aftermath of it, and she's seen Blue's reaction (she knows exactly when he cracked the files because that's when he brought her the widened cutlery for them, visibly seething). The problem is that Morgan hasn't visibly reacted to anything so far today, and Asha doesn't think that'll help in the eyes of the judges.

Also, against all medical advice, Morgan is standing for the trial. It's standard. They shouldn't be, not on that ankle, not if they don't want to make the permanent damage worse. They didn't even walk here, but apparently weapons don't get seating if they're being reprimanded, so they won't sit now.

But it's been hours, and Asha is really worried about that ankle.

Blue clears his throat and Asha snaps her attention back to him.

"As you all know, Morgan has been with the Regime's Ministry of Defence since they were eight. Within their file was video and written evidence dating back to then. Your Honours, you have the written reports in your evidence packs, but there's videos that I am going to show you chronologically." He clicks a remote control and the screen changes to the hallway of a normal-seeming family home, books and toys scattered around. The 'play' triangle is superimposed over it. "Morgan's parents were well-documented protesters, though by the time they were eight they'd both stepped back from the movement to raise their child. Morgan had several disabilities and powers, both of which put them in danger. They were known as Lili then, and this video, of their... I suppose you could say recruitment, if you want to follow the government's euphemisms, is the last evidence we have of them having a name rather than a serial number until Rhian Williams named them Morgan upon their arrival here. If I may play the video, Your Honour?"

The head judge nods, and the video starts.

There's a high-pitched giggle off-screen, and then a kid charges into view, holding a battered notebook with sticky bookmarks sticking out of the side.

Asha's breath hitches. This must be Morgan. They don't look eight. They're so small.

"Hey!"

Morgan – Lili? – giggles again. A woman runs in, grabbing Morgan around the middle and lifting them into the air. Their long brown hair flies around them, mixing with her light hair.

"Got you! Now give me my notes back!"

There's a movement in the courtroom and Asha glances over. Morgan's dropped to the floor. At first Asha thinks it's just their ankle, but then they get up, clawing at the thin wooden rail attached to the plexiglass sides. Their eyes are fixed on the screen, and at first they look no more emotional than before, but tears stream down their cheeks, and their hands tremble.

"No!"

The woman smiles and snatches the notebook. "Too late. Let's see what you've given me."

As the woman flips through the pages, Asha notices the subtitles for the first time and her breath catches in her throat. She was focused so much on Morgan she didn't notice the language switch – she's not sure how that happened. But Welsh. Morgan's Welsh. A different part of Wales to herself, it sounds like more of a borders accent to Asha's north Wales, but they're Welsh. Can they still speak it? Would it help them if she did? Make them feel less alone?

The woman's eyes widen. "Baby, you–"

A door latch clicks off-screen. "Honey, I'm home!"

Morgan grins and scrambles off the woman, running for the edge of the screen. "Tad!"

Their dad enters the video, catching Morgan around the waist and spinning them in a circle. "Hey little monster. How was your day?"

"I decorated mam's notebook! And I've been practicing my writing!"

"Here, have a look," says Morgan's mam, passing the notebook over with a smile. Their dad's grin widens.

"You wrote your name? And a whole sentence?"

Morgan nods enthusiastically.

"She did indeed. She also coloured in my notes at the same time, but I'm sure my professor won't mind too much."

Morgan's dad ruffles their hair. "Well, I think this calls for celebratory pancakes. Why don't you go and pick out the mould?"

Morgan nods and charges off-screen. Morgan's dad wilts and he runs a hand through his hair. Their mam kisses him.

"Hard day at work?"

"No kidding. I got the number for that specialist, but we don't have long. If anyone catches wind of Lili..."

"We don't have long. But let's leave today for celebrating Lili. 50p she chooses the Archimedes mould?"

"I'd be a fool to take that bet." He puts an arm around her shoulders and they wander off-screen. There's nothing for a minute, just a blank hallway with no sound. Whatever camera bug this is by the former regime, it's good quality.

"Hey baby, what'd you choose?"

"Archimedes!"

"Your favourite. Come and help me with–"

There's a fast, loud banging on a door. "Ministry of Defence! Open up!"

Someone curses. Morgan yelps.

"Lili, I will always love you. Now run. Just like we practiced."

"Mam? Tad? What's–"

"Go! We'll catch you up."

A running child's footsteps. Morgan's dad strides into the hallway and takes down a framed painting, unlocking the safe beneath it and passing a gun to their mum.

She cocks it. Was it already loaded in there? Who were Morgan's parents?

"I love you."

"And I you."

The door crashes in. The sound of gunshots fills the room, and not just from Morgan's parents. They–

"No!"

The scream is strangled and wet. Asha glances around to see Morgan on their knees, their head in their hands, rocking. They look devastated.

The video doesn't end there, as Morgan's dragged on-screen, kicking and screaming, smacked around the head until she stops, and all of this over her parents' bodies, splayed out on the wood, blood pooling around them.

There's a makeshift height chart just visible in the last shot, the pencil marks on the wallpaper sprayed with blood.

This video ends here, with Morgan's removal, but it's not the only one. Asha doesn't know how Blue can stand there and present these so calmly. There's one very soon after, with Morgan's head newly-shaved, a shock harness and mittens freshly fitted, and they look so cold. They're in shock, they're an orphan, but they're not allowed to grieve, the attitudes of the handlers makes that clear. They don't understand but nobody's giving them a chance to do so.

And so it continues. And so Morgan grows up. Never spoken of as a person, never given an inch, locked into the tiniest room, shocked until they stop moving, stop speaking. Stop resisting. Trained, punished. Taught to kill, punished when they resist, hesitate, react violently to the harsh sounds and movements and actions. Hurt until they stop hesitating, forget that they can, perhaps forget that they were ever anything but a weapon, forged in the fires of pain and desperation, purged of everything they don't actively need in an effort to survive.

But the nightmares never stop. They still haven't, Asha knows. She just didn't have the context until now.

Meanwhile, present-day Morgan is getting worse with every piece of evidence. Scrambling back when certain people come on screen, and freezing, and pleading with the videos when they think they're going to be punished. Their face is blotchy with silent tears, and they keen, rocking back and forth in distress from the latest video (active mission testing).

And then they start trying to bash their head against the plexiglass, and one of their guards has to restrain them. Asha should be there, she's their doctor, but she tries to stand and someone official shakes their head at her. It's not fair, she knows she's part of the trial, but she– she–

"They've survived worse, they'll be okay," whispers Rhian hoarsely. Asha nods, unable to speak. She should still be there.

She aches to go to them. She knew it was bad – only a fool would see a young person wearing an electroshock harness and think it wasn't – but she didn't realise it was this bad.

But she can't. She's not allowed, she can't risk the trial, they won't let her. All she can do is sit here and watch uselessly as Morgan's heart is ripped wide open, all over the very public courtroom floor.

[levemetal]

I have a million and one svsss AU ideas that idk if I'll ever write cause I have 0 confidence in my untested writing skills. Any of these appeal to you?? Go ahead, use 'em. Know any fanfics like that? Please please PLEASE leave them in the comments. Ideas to add? Anything? Please go ahead I have no friends that are as deep in the svsss brainrot as me to subject this to ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

Continued under the cut due to excessive rambling

These will be Ghost King/Calamity!SJ cause he has been living rentfree in my brain ever since one braincell at one AM shouted about it so you have been warned.

- Dual Ghost Kings YQY and SJ, Post canon of PIDW. That's it that's the idea. Their extras hurt my cold dead heart way too much and as much as bbygirl SJ is a piece of shit, Yue Qingyuan deserves happiness, and for that he needs his Xiao-Jiu. Basically YQY does not stay dead when Bingge turns him into a pincushion à la White No Face to Xie Lian except with arrows. What happens from here? Idk didn't get that far but I imagine he steals back his (probably dead) Xiao-Jiu, maybe does some other batshit insane shit like we all know that deep down he's capable of, and the duo fucking COMMUNICATES for once in their life and they live happily ever after. Bonus points for hilarious deaths for Bingge.

- If you're a filthy multishipper like me, want a BingJiu version of the above QiJiu? Easy, SJ decides to haunt Bingge's ass for eternity and vice versa when Bingge kicks the bucket and so they spent the rest of eternity trying to make each other miserable in increasingly ridiculous and creative ways. Maybe along the centuries they find a common enemy or sort their shit out and proceed to make their awful existence everyone else's problem. A match made in hell, truly <3

Are you seeing a theme yet. I like a general comedic air to svsss AUs, it just belongs to the svsss experience ya know? Anyway carrying on-

Shen twins, and SQH twins cause why not. If you want Binghe twins too, actually probably funnier with Binghe twins, where one is our beloved maiden Bingmei and the other OG!PIDW Bingge but forced back in time with memories of the PIDW timeline. Transmigrator SQH aka Airplane gets the peak lord + Mobei-Jun plotline while OG!SQH is just chilling as an An Ding Peak Hallmaster or something. Meanwhile, the Shen twins have a funny game of imposter going on. As far as everyone is concerned, there is only one Shen Qingqiu, Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan transmigrated in earlier into the novel, but ended up going to CQM with Yue Qi while SJ got stuck in the Qiu household as in canon. From here the details can change but the main idea is that

A) Shen Yuan knows how to do his peak lord job actually

B) SJ is a calamity ghost, having died either in his disciple years or alternatively never made it out of the Qiu household alive

C) Both SY and SJ have been playing switcheroo when SY needs to head out and do stuff or just wants SJ to do his paperwork for him.

I still need a good reason for the switching and duping, but wouldn't it be funny if the disciples just had to deal with their peak lord behaving WILDLY different at times. Most of the time it's good ol' Shen Yuan smiling at disciples, way too enthusiastic for monsters and plants and keeps forgetting his fans everywhere. Then one random week in the month after he has a resting bitch face, scowls, snarls and bitches at anyone and has 0 patience for teenage attempts at music.

Most shrug it off as just terrible migraine weeks, but some disciples are suspicious, most of all Bingge who is CONVINCED something is WrongTM. Like, he KNOWS SQQ and this SQQ is just so different, something must be different. He doesn't know how right he is yet everyone just thinks he's actually insane.

I know this is probably increasingly insane and dumb, but fast forward to the Abyss opening. SJ was probably there to keep an eye on his clumsy twin, but SY ends up asking the ghost to look over the Luos, as the system still demands that they go to the abyss. So SJ after much grumbling agrees (after all he probably just was unmasked as ghost calamity, and the twins as demons, with a huge amount of cultivators moving their way. It's really the smaller hassle to jump into the Abyss and deal with the horrors there. Besides, the scholar in SJ would be curious about the abyss (and SY too let's be honest) ), kicks both in and goes "Alright we're taking an impromptu field trip" and jumps in after leaving SY to deal with the political mess that comes after.

Anyway, the last AU can be changed in various ways, like make it a PIDW time travel fix it with only the OGs around, or just Shen twins, etc. Feel free to shout at me how dumb this all is.