#short blurb but i only speak truths

[ddejavvu]

are you taking requests? if yes maybe a short blurb with reader thirsting after rooster in one of those black compression shirts 😵‍💫

Half the time it's great being friends with the bartender of your favorite bar, and half the time she makes you drag out crates of supply from the back room. Tonight happens to be the latter. Penny takes advantage of your military muscles to get three crates of various bottles out from the supply room, and you're setting down the second when Bradley and Javy walk in.

The rest of your squadron is tucked away in a corner of the bar, discussing god knows what, and you're eager to get back to them. You see Javy and Bradley make their way over to them, and all of a sudden they're visible in entirety, having been partially blocked by other patrons from your view before. They're both in casual wear, and Bradley's got a black t-shirt on, the tightest you've ever seen. It hugs his muscular figure that’s usually obscured by a bulky flight suit or a hoodie in the chilly morning air. You won't claim to be level-headed when it comes to your fellow pilot. You've only restrained yourself for professionality's sake, but you're having a rather difficult time doing that while he's in a skin tight shirt. Damn him and his slutty ways.

You watch his back as he sidles up beside Hangman at the too-small table they've secured, but his head turns slightly as he clocks your missing form.

Then Jake motions to you, and it takes a full five seconds of Bradley turning, locking eyes with you, waving with a lazy grin, then shifting the expression into one of concern, to realize that you're staring at him like he's a three-headed alien.

He stands, presumably to make sure you haven't been shot in the leg or tranquilized by the way you're standing frozen. But at the movement you spook like a deer, dropping the crate onto the bar and dashing for the supply room.

You're lucky you've got the excuse of the third crate in there, but you're not sure anything but the truth will explain the way you'd dashed off. You're praying that Bradley leaves you alone, but he's always been caring beyond belief, and you're disappointed but not surprised when he pushes the door open mere seconds after you slam it shut.

"Y/N?" He asks, like he can't believe it's you that's dashed away from him like he's a carrier of the plague. His eyes are dripping with concern, but the sight of his muscled shoulders in the tight black tee have something else dripping.

"Hey, what's with you?" He shuts the door, like he's giving you privacy to tell him whatever secret you've got brewing; like he isn't the secret.

"Nothing! Nothing, just- I'm just helping Penny."

"Yeah, and when you dropped the giant box of bottles at the sight of me, you almost broke them. Last time I checked, that's not helping. What's the matter?"

"Nothing." You insist, hoisting the last crate into your grip, "Open the door for me, will you?"

Bradley's frown tightens, and his jaw clenches. He reaches for the crate, tugging it out of your hands and into his own grip. It makes the muscles barely hidden beneath his shirt bulge, and you physically react, glancing away from him with burning cheeks and an exasperated huff.

"No. Tell me what's wrong," He's firm, but gentle, worry in his voice and eyes alike, "Did I do something? I mean- obviously the problem's with me. Did I make you mad or something? I'm sorry if I did."

He looks like a guilty puppy, his pretty golden-brown eyes fixated intensely, expectantly on you. It makes you insane, the feeling of his full, undivided attention.

"No. No, Bradley, you didn't do anything. I swear, okay? I'm just having a weird day. And I'm- I dunno, overwhelmed. I just didn't know how busy it was gonna be tonight. It wasn't that bad when I hauled the first crate out."

He believes your overstimulation excuse, but there's still a lingering concern in the air. He waits to speak, seemingly evaluating your excuse in his mind to see if it really checks out.

"Okay," He finally mutters, "Sorry, honey. You want me to take you home? We don't even have to listen to music, you can just nap on the way."

"No, it's okay." You promise, trying desperately to avoid staring as he shifts the crate to hang under one arm. It's heavy, but not too heavy for him, and you can't allow yourself to ogle his muscles or you'll give yourself away.

"Alright," He reaches for you with his now-free hand, and you know he feels how stiff you are when he drags you in for a hug. You're suddenly squished up against his pec, his bicep pressed to your face, and you wonder if he can hear the sharp intake of breath you let out in response.

"You okay?" He keeps you close, staring down at you from only inches away. You're not sure your face has ever been this precariously distanced from his own, but if he can feel your pounding heart against his own chest you wouldn't be surprised.

"I'm fine," You manage to utter, nodding and cursing the way it rubs his muscles against your face. As if you need to imagine other scenarios where you'd be feeling the same sensation.

"'Kay. Stick with me," He instructs you, letting go of the side-hug he'd wrangled you in, though his hand drops to the small of your back and nearly sends you into cardiac arrest. "I'll drop the box at the bar, then you can steal Fanboy's seat at our table. It's by the window, you can crack it and get some fresh air."

"Alright," You nod, feeling like you're being led to your death as you reenter the main bar, escorted by Bradley's large hand on your back, "Thanks, Rooster."

"Mhm. Anytime," He promises, simultaneously tilting the side of his body that the crate is pressed to towards the bar so that he can place it on the surface, and leaning the other side of his body towards you to kiss the crown of your head.

"You ready?" He rubs your back, a steady, strong touch that makes you want to keel over. You nod, weakly staring at him as he begins maneuvering through the crowd, "Don't worry, honey, I've got you."

[dave-me0wstaine]

HIII Okay so, I'm going absolutely fucking feral over bad boy!80's Dave x innocent!reader, can you make a full fic on it pleaaase?

ofc!! i was planning on making a full fic + a few blurbs of badboy! 80s dave bc i've legit been thinking about this scenario for a few weeks!!

like i imagine that the two of you meet at a record store he works at, and the instant he sees you he's smitten. you just look so soft and sweet, and the little babydoll dress you have on drives him insane. it doesn't take long for dave to start speaking to you, asking you if you need help with anything, or making flirtatious small talk, giving compliments, etc. your shy responses only make him that much more obsessed with you; your demeanor matches your exterior; you're so kind and soft-spoken, and so innocent.

to dave's surprise, you're surprisingly eager to befriend him. truth is, you've only been coming into the record store the past couple of weeks to see him. you couldn't put your finger on it, but something about him was just so...alluring. anytime he looked at you, you instantly felt butterflies in your tummy, and whenever his calloused hands would brush against your soft ones while handing you whatever you purchased, the butterflies seemed to move in-between your legs. and sometimes, you'd go home and wiggle your cunt around on your pillow, trying desperately to get the feeling to go away, but always end up frustrated and confused at what you're feeling.

not long after you meet, the two of you are inseparable, much to your parents' dismay. you're always hanging around the record store, talking to him while he straightens the shelves, while he's smoking on his break, etc., and he does the same at your little part-time job at the bookstore, always hanging around if he himself doesn't have to work.

eventually, he starts sneaking into your window at night, under the guise of just "hanging out". which is true, for a while at least. until, dave starts suggesting that the two of you lay together, cuddle, maybe share the occasional kiss (or makeout session). and you, ever the innocent girl, are convinced by dave's assurances. "this is what friends are supposed to do, baby."

and one night, just like always, you hear the tell-tale sign that you have a special visitor; you hear your window slowly creak open, and hear the familiar gruffness of dave's voice.

"hey, sweet girl," he drawls out, making his way to where you're stretched out on your stomach on the bed, reading a book.

"hi davie." your voice rings out sweetly, and a shy smile is on your lips. you feel his weight on shift on the bed, and his hand rakes gently through your hair. again, you begin to feel butterflies low in your stomach, and as a result you unknowingly squeeze your thighs together. dave, ever the observant, takes note of this.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" he questions, and when you simply shoot him a confused look, he elaborates. "you're wigglin' around."

"s'nothin'," you slur out, hiding your face, which is getting hotter by the second, into your bed covers. you always seem to get flustered each time you hang out with dave, and you're not quite sure why. dave however, gets a sly look on his face as he realizes exactly what it is you're feeling.

"oh, i think i know, hun." dave purrs out, running his hands over your hips. he ghosts his fingers across your lower back, across your slightly-too-short pajama bottoms. slowly, his fingers start to dip underneath the fabric.

"d'you trust me?" he whispers to you, fingers hesitant and antsy. as much as he'd like to act on impulse, he doesn't want to scare you away from him. dave doesn't think his heart would take it if you pushed him away because of something he did.

"of course i do," you chirp happily. "you're being silly, davie."

"yeah? then lemme make you feel good," his fingers begin pulling the fabric of your pajama shorts and underwear down your ass, and he feels you tense underneath his touch. "if you wanna stop-"

"n-no! no, please, don't," you cut him off, perhaps a bit too eagerly, and you start to feel embarrassed. but before that feeling can truly set in, another one emerges; the same feeling you get whenever the two of you kiss, except this time it's stronger. much stronger.

"fuck, you're so pretty, baby." dave mutters, almost to himself. with a large hand, he spreads your cheeks apart, marveling at the glistening slick coating your cunt. just the sight alone makes his brain feel like tv static, and without thinking, he lowers his head down and sticks his tongue out to get a taste of you.

you yelp out of surprise, and before long, dave's manhandled you so that your ass is up in the air, and your face is shoved into your soft, pink blankets as he eats you from behind. the noises that the sound of his mouth on your cunt makes your legs quiver, and you whine even louder into the blankets.

"gotta be quieter, baby," dave pulls away momentarily, out of breath, to gently scold you, but really, he doesn't care. as far as he's concerned he's on cloud nine, eating out a girl that he's had a crush on for months at this point, making her cream on his tongue. if he died in the next 10 minutes, he'd die a happy man.

"m's-sorry!" you squeak out, and bite down on the blankets to muffle out any of your noises. it's a miracle you had enough sense to do this, considering how out of your mind with pleasure you were. so out of your mind, in-fact, that your orgasm took both you and dave by surprise (not that you'd really know what that felt like anyway, considering you've never had one before).

dave continues to lap at your clit while you come down from your orgasm, and overstimulates you to the point that you're trying in vain to wiggle your hips - which are held tightly in his grasp - away from his mouth. eventually, after delivering a sharp tug to his hair, he begrudgingly pulls away, flipping your body over so that you're on your back, looking up at him with unfocused, sleepy eyes.

"feel better, pretty girl?" he asks you, softly brushing stray hairs away from your face and behind your ear. you can only nod, your voice hoarse from the whines and moans you desperately tried to muffle.

he huffs out a small laugh through his nose at the sight of you, dazed, flushed, and out of breath, and plants a chaste kiss to your lips.

"let's get you in bed, sleepy girl."

[freedomfireflies]

I would love to read a blurb from you about H taking care of his newborn baby boy 🥺

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

Harry’s hands shake as he slowly reaches down into the bassinet to retrieve the tiny human screaming for his attention and care.

Truth be told, he’s honestly not sure which one of them he’s telling not to cry.

Nevertheless, the squirmy infant begins to wiggle in his large palms as he brings the child up toward his chest.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, you’re all right,” he whispers, doing his best to speak in his most soothing tone. “Another nightmare, huh? S’okay, I get it. I get them, too.”

There’s some wet cooing as Harry cups the child’s bottom and tucks them just under his chin, right over his racing heart. 

He’d read that skin-on-skin contact is crucial for newborns to create a strong bond, so now he spends a majority of his time shirtless just in case the child needs that added comfort.

And if Harry is being honest with himself, he probably gets more comfort out of it than the baby.

After a moment, the fussing begins to subside, and Harry exhales the deep breath that had been caught in his lungs as he unwinds. Then, he moves for the rocking chair in the corner of the room, gingerly taking a seat as the baby begins to fidget in his hold.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he murmurs, swaying them back and forth. “It’s all right, I’ve got you. Daddy’s got you.”

The sweet baby brings its tiny thumb to its mouth, tucking it between small, pouted lips as it begins to settle.

“There you go,” Harry says, lashes fluttering as he looks down. “I know, it’s hard to sleep without her. Especially when it’s all you’ve ever known…”

There’s a catch in Harry’s throat as he glances back up, eyes falling to the side of the bed where she used to lay. 

It’s been three weeks. Only three weeks since Harry had to come home from the hospital alone, and he has absolutely no idea how he’s made it this far.

He doesn’t sleep. Which isn’t unusual for new parents, but it goes deeper than that. He doesn’t sleep because he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to sleep in a bed she’s no longer in.

And he doesn’t eat, either. Because he can’t stand to go into the same kitchen she used to love. The same kitchen she used to spend each of her Sunday mornings in as she cooked them pancakes and listened to French music.

He doesn’t go out. He doesn’t leave their house. He’s a stranger to the outside world and apart from when his mother comes over to babysit, he doesn’t talk to anyone.

It’s just him and the baby now.

And he doesn’t exactly want that to change. He doesn’t want to lose these moments because at least he can pretend that he still has her.

She’s everywhere. Her memory lives within this house. Within their child. He can see her in the baby’s eyes. In the way it tries to smile or reach out and grab onto his thumb when it needs him close by.

And it breaks his heart because their baby will never hear the sound of her laugh or feel her reassuring touch.

He has no idea if he’ll be enough. If he can give this child the life it deserves or the love he knows she would have given them. 

He can only do what she would want him to.

His best.

“She loved you so much,” Harry whispers, cheek pressing into the baby’s head. “So, so much. The last thing she ever did was hold you and tell you she loved you. You were the most important thing in the world to her.”

The child only coos as it slips back into a dream-like state, still curled up against Harry’s bare chest as he rocks them back and forth.

Harry smiles. “It’s you and me now, okay? Us against the world. Us. Always.”

He means that more than he's ever meant anything in his life.

And that’s a promise he doesn’t plan to break.

It's short, I know, but I AM planning a second part so I can explore all the other amazing ideas you guys sent in, I promise!!

Thank you again so much to the original anon, and I hope you don't mind that I changed a couple tiny details! 😭💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[maximoff-pan]

ooh! how about a dick winter blurb where they talk about their future? just something short and sweet to get you dipping your toes into the BOB fandom...

this was so cute and fun to think about! and thank you; I’m dipping my toes in quite slowly but hopefully this is an okay (ish) start — if you’d like me to write a little more for the wonderful easy company boys, just let me know! feedback is always much appreciated 🥰

also I maybe have taken liberties making the reader canadian — sue me for indulging

pairing: dick winters x fem!(cwac)reader

word count: 500

note: this is a complete work of fiction and is based only on the fictional representation of the show band of brothers. No disrespect is meant towards any of the men of easy company or those who fought in ww2.

July, 1945: Zell Am See, Austria 

“Have you thought about what you might do after all of this?” 

The question causes your lip to quirk slightly in thought. You never dreamed there’d be an after. “I dunno.” Is your truthful response. “I always figured this war would be it for me.”

Dick’s eyes lock with yours in understanding. He knows the feeling well. 

“Lew has offered me a job at Nixon Nitration.” His voice carries gently across the water, his leg grazing yours, dangling from the wooden dock below you. It’s so quiet you can almost hear the dew drops hitting the surface as the early morning sun catches Dick’s hair. It creates a wonderful glow, like embers dancing through a fire.

He looks beautiful like this, you think. At peace in the bask of the Austrian sunlight. 

“That’s perfect.” You tell him. “I think that’ll be great for you.”

He swallows before speaking, “He said you could come with us.”

“Did he now?” You chuckle. “The ever presumptuous Lewis Nixon. But the offer does sound intriguing.” 

He smiles. “I was hoping you might say that.”

Your eyes lock once again, playful grins gracing both your faces. Reaching for his hand, you grasp it in your own, rubbing your thumb lightly across the skin. It’s rough from battle, but warm and comforting nonetheless. 

You angle yourself forward to face the water better, now purposefully side by side with the man next to you. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you feel him relax, posture sinking in content. 

“I was thinking—” He pauses briefly, momentarily collecting his thoughts.

“That’s never a good sign.” You tease him.

Dick doesn’t react to your jibe, simply taking it in stride as he usually does. “Humour me.” He decides upon.

“Alright, I suppose I can do that.” You say.

“Come with me to New Jersey.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “I feel like we just had this conversation.”

Dick chuckles finally at your obliviousness. “No, I mean live with me. Buy a house, settle down, spend our lives together.” 

Your head lifts from his body, shifting once again, you raise your legs to sit cross-legged on the dock. Dick turns to face you, much the same. He looks hopeful. 

The words tumble breathlessly from your lips, “You mean together, together? Like—”

“Marriage.” He confirms. “A couple kids, a white picket fence – the whole American dream. If that’s what you’d want, of course.” 

Dick is usually able to read your expressions like a book he’s read an unfathomable amount of times, but right now, the pages are blank. He can’t seem to get a read on you. 

A few beats of silence pass agonizingly slowly, one, two, three, then – a smile breaks out onto your face. “You do know I’m Canadian right?”

He grins in return, but not wanting to push his luck, he asks,“Is that an ‘I’ll think about it?’”

“It’s a yes you idiot.”

It would always be a yes.

[blueikeproductions]

They finally posted a trailer and poster for the next batch of EarthSpark. And it’s described as S3, though experience with Netflix makes me think this is just the remainder of S2… Still according to the marketing, fans finally got a third season, so that counts for something. It’s only roughly 7 episodes, but G1’s final fourth season was a three part finale, so a very short season isn’t unheard of.

This poster is a lot better than the past main posters they’ve used over and over.

These are better also, but they don’t get used much.

But after RotB & TFONE, I think we can all agree decent advertising isn’t modern Hasbro & Paramount’s strong suit.

As for the trailer itself, it continues a trend I’ve noticed where most EarthSpark ancillary stuff tends to down play the Terrans. Twitch appears for a split second and Thrash appears in a gag where he gets shot… continuing his “just kinda there” vibe.

The trailer primarily focuses on the traditional Autobot & Decepticon conflict, with a big focus put on Prowl, the newest and seemingly only Transformer added to the cast so far.

A news article further describes Prowl as an “old world” Autobot detective who trusts the hard facts & always finds the truth. He is immediately distrustful of Optimus’ allies, so presumably that includes the Maltos, Terrans and naturally Megatron. It’s interesting how he’s specifically described as a detective, perhaps that’s to avoid ACAB allegations I could see the old writers attempt through him….

Prowl’s G1 profiles cast him as a by the books, semi prickly, military strategist. This doesn’t really get explored in the old cartoon, and while it was touched on briefly in Marvel, IDW went hog wild with it, casting its Prowl as a corrupt cop antagonist towards the end of the run. IDW2 cast him as more of a detective pre-war though, possibly where EarthSpark borrowed it from, and while he was still a hard-aft, he had a soft spot for his pet dinosaur-alien.

The main villains of the season, unsurprisingly, are the Quintessons. Their leader is a female Judge, who the blurb declares it “is her birthright to possess the power of the Emberstone. She’s wise, dangerous, and her ego is so large that it’s no wonder she has five heads”.

What exactly constitutes gender among the Quints has never really been defined before.

It might be safe to say as far as the G1 cartoon is concerned, they’re an all male race.

WFC & CV attempted to insert female gender among the Judges, having some of the masks speak in a female voice.

That adds another oddity to Judge biology, as the G1 cartoon or Marvel UK comics never stated the other faces being separate personalities, instead other media describes them as different emotional states.

Alpha Q in Superlink did have multiple personalities based on which mask was displayed, each one squabbling/talking amongst themselves.

Presumably WFC/CV borrowed from Alpha Q, but the ES Quintesson Judge might be operating on G1 logic, each mask being a single (female) gender, as she has a female voice actor only.

The other big G1 thing the trailer shows is the Hate Plague. The leaked synopsis already revealed it, but like G1, those infected with the plague glow an intense red.

Once infected, they turn incredibly violent and try to kill each other. Despite the G1 show’s violence, nobody actually died ironically, at least it was never confirmed. The synopsis implies the Quintessons unleashed the Hate Plague on the Transformers, and while the 80’s Quints were instead among the victims of the outbreak, they do have a vague connection to it.

The oldest known leader within the Matrix, only known as “It”, resembles a Quintesson, with Japanese media confirming that’s what they are. Optimus Prime asks this ancient Quintesson how to combat the Hate Plague, with It saying the Plague couldn’t be outright destroyed but contained, where a wise man trapped the spores in a star. The spores nevertheless has a weakness to pure wisdom, so Optimus unleashes the power of the Matrix and uses its eons long store of wisdom to eradicate the virus once and for all… Until it briefly returns in Beast Machines.

As mentioned before, the Hate Plague isn’t exactly a popular concept cartoons like to go back to. Comics don’t like using it typically either, so its inclusion here is both unique but also a little… peculiar. I’m leaning towards it being a vague, modern topical metaphor for something, as an infected Megatron is fighting Optimus in particular. Probably some hogwash about Megatron succumbing to his biases and own hatred, but we’ll see soon enough.

Perhaps the most utterly bizarre detail is the blurb seemingly confirming the return of Spitfire and Aftermath.

How…?

Starscream yanked out their Allspar-er-Emberstone Shards, and the rock itself is dust. You can’t get any deader than that.

The only thing I can guess, is similar to Sari’s key, the Sleeves are the repository of the Emberstone’s life giving energies (the sleeves do just about anything else now so why not), and the Malto kids are incentivized to revive the two Decepticon Terrans for some reason.

MetroTitans in IDW also can grant life and that was carried over to Prime Wars, so it’s possible Terratronus can grant life too, and she restores the Terracons.

Worst case scenario is the two hellions are back up and running like nothing happened, and their death is never addressed again.

Crap writing if so, but the previous two scenarios would be preferable.

Not much longer to wait now. This might be the final batch, as the Quintessons make sense as the final end goal in the struggle over the Emberstone. The show has never been super committed to showing what’s going on Cybertron that whatever Prowl and Cosmos have to add to the matter is probably the best we’ll get. Plus the Terrans don’t have much incentive or interest to even go to Cybertron anyway; Alex would get more out of going there than his kids. Only thing I could guess is the Quints took over Cybertron off screen and that loosely ties into the Judge’s role on Earth, but eh. We’ll see.

[yooils]

lightweight . drunk!isagi x reader. fluff. accidental proposal. short blurb + extremely forced plot.

— ISAGI YOICHI is a lightweight.

it’s a truth acknowledged by everyone close with him, really, with the way he begins his flowery proses after a drink or two– followed by a gradual descent to an emotional wreck; usually accompanied with an abundance of impulsive decisions and a self depreciating monologue of his life.

but in spite of that, he knows how to handle himself 90% of the time. (the remaining 10% is left unmentioned by all, regardless of the copious amounts of black-mail material some of his teammates possess.)

so naturally, the first time you see yoichi have an emotional breakdown in public is during a team get-together! he’s half on his knees with an abnormally flushed complexion; his eyes are starting to water from the reverie he’s found himself in, and his throat is constricted with hiccups. you've been so-called paged by his colleagues– only to find that the emergency they had mentioned afore to be your drunk boyfriend.

“i just want you to know that i love you.” is the first thing that comes out of isagi's mouth when he catches sight of you entering the bar his team had booked for the night.

the collective wolf whistles from his teammates would have portrayed the unfolding scene to be akin to an extremely romantic (read: corny) scene of a movie, if it wasn't for the uncharacteristically delirious look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“my affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this. i just want you to know that i’m pregnant, and you’re the baby. will you marry me?”

(a few feet away, rin spits out his drink, outraged at the sheer blasphemy of one of his favourite books and movies. nagi's recording next to him, half-asleep yet still giggling at his friend's drunken antics.)

you love yoichi too, you really do– but you have to run through the list of things you love about him just to keep yourself from strangling him to the brink of unconsciousness so he stops talking.

– he's cute. he's only a little bit annoying sometimes. he does the laundry properly. he just confessed that he loved you amidst his drunken stupor even though you've never said it to each other directly before in person– and then proposed to you. and he's hot.

finally forfeiting to his boyish, drunken charms (and having had enough public humiliation for today), you find yourself and your extremely drunk boyfriend in the middle of the parking lot; with you holding him by his coat so he doesn’t escape, and him squirming around with airy sounds of discomfort which you had opted to ignore.

isagi’s leaning in close, breath reeking of alcohol and hands fumbling with his seatbelt clumsily.

“psst.. don’t tell anyone, but i’m gonna marry you one day.”

the pause in the car is deafening.

you furrow your eyebrows. he obliviously leans his cheek against the car window, unbothered by the sheer weight that his words had carried.

“wait, you don’t want other people to find out that you’re going to propose to me, so you tell the person you’re actually proposing to?”

his drunk gasp speaks volumes to you. “oh no, did i say that out loud? am i being kidnapped? where am i? is the world finally ending? but i still haven’t told (name) that i loved them…”

(okay, maybe he’s a little more stupid when he’s drunk, but you’ve grown to become a believer in the concept that drunken words are sober thoughts in the last hour. you hope.)

isagi’s eyes melt into something akin pools of sapphire stones under the lamppost-lit light. it’s been your favourite colour from the moment you met him.

“yoichi, why are you sniffing me?”

you amusedly ask, finding minor entertainment in his actions.

he’s half slumped on you by the time you stop the car by his apartment– and you realise that there’s no way of getting out of your vehicle without damaging 1.) your spine 2.) your arms and 3.) his dignity. (which really is already ruined, objectively, from the amount of second-hand embarrassment you’ve faced tonight.

“don’t wanna leave you.. smells like home..” he almost-incoherently mumbles, and you impulsively have half a mind to keep him forever-intoxicated because of how cute, despite tedious he’s become.

as a relatively simple man, isagi has always been subjected to a desire for more; especially when it came to football.

(but you, he thinks, will always be more than enough for him. and he hopes he’s enough for you too, even in his drunken haze, because he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasps for even a second).

the way you stroke his hair has his mind collapsing into a puddle of melted goo even in the air-conditioned car. you’ve rewritten his brain chemistry to make yourself the only pearl in his universe composed of mostly football, and in every life, he would let you break his heart over and over again.

once you realise that he's stopped his drunken ramblings and fumbling, the panic finally kicks in.

"yoichi, are you sleeping? we're still in the car park! i can't get out with you laid on me!"

(the next morning, he apologises after a much needed hangover pill and a reminder of what happened last night, sent to him in the form of a video by nagi.

you don't tell him that you've already seen the ring in his sock drawer.)

8.12.23

[radiant-reid]

Hi cate, i rlly love your writing. I was wondering if you could di a blurb in virgin!reader relentlessly teasing Spence about how he probably isn’t even that good at sex and is probably small and he proves her wrong pls pls pls its been on my mind for so long😵‍💫

THIS !! but it's him ^^ because his short fuse is 10/10 also i didn't write this as virgin reader, because i wanted it to be rough, I hope that's okay <3

By the time truth or dare is being played, you're drunk, with enough shots and cocktails in your system that you're bold enough to say just about anything.

You're standing around a high table, holding the bench to avoid swaying too much, when Luke suggests truth or dare. Tara jumps in on it, and before anyone can stop to think about consequences or too much personal information being shared about co-workers, all of you are playing.

"Spencer, truth or dare?" Luke asks him, a few rounds in.

"Truth." He takes the seemingly easier option.

"What's your body count?" He asks with a grin, mostly because it earns a giggle from Penelope.

Spencer frowns. "Like people I've killed?" He clarifies.

"People you've slept with." JJ corrects after all of you laugh.

"Oh, like five. Wait, six." He counts, less concentrated after some whiskey.

You snort loudly, only aware you have a varying opinion from everyone else when all eyes are on you. "What? Do you guys seriously think he's had sex with more than one person?" You stare at him, profiling him. "Maybe two, tops."

"Damn, kid," Rossi speaks first, everyone else too gobsmacked to say anything. "You don't pull any punches."

Luke hoots with laughter. "She's calling you out, man."

When you brave a glance at Spencer, he doesn't look embarrassed. He just looks pissed, jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed, and you're not going to deny it, but it's attractive.

You're determined to push him further. "It's probably small too." You add, holding up your hands two inches apart.

That only increases the volume of everyone howling with laughter, and it gives Spencer the chance to lean down and whisper in your ear. "Second door on the left of the right hallway, five minutes." He says abruptly, voice lower than usual.

You're too stunned to say anything, and something about how magnetic he is attracts you to go. So in four minutes, you're excusing yourself to the bathroom.

He's already in the bedroom when you get there, arms crossed over his chest. Clearly, his anger didn't dissipate.

"Hey, Spence." You greet him casually, closing the door behind you. "Bring me in here to prove to me that it's tiny?"

"Shut up." He tells you, stepping closer until your toes are almost touching. "Just shut the fuck up."

The next words out of your mouth surprise you more than they surprise him. He is a profiler, after all. "Make me." You say.

His lips are so close to you that it takes a millisecond for him to be kissing you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat. His hands are all over your face, pulling you closer to him with his large fingers wrapped around the base of your neck. It's sloppy and wet, and really fucking hot.

It's a flurry to get your clothes off, both of you pulling apart after a long, passionate kiss, your thoughts tracking to the same place. They lay discarded on the floor as he pushes you onto the mattress, wasting no time getting inside you.

"Fuck, you must have watched some porn because you know what you're doing." You tease, made a little bit more difficult with his deep thrusts.

He growls against your neck. "Real-life experience, sweetheart." He whispers before biting at your skin.

"Don't- fuck- believe you." You retort.

"Can't even argue with me without moaning, huh?" Spencer asks before tutting, "pathetic." You wiggle closer, rolling your hits with him. "Like right now, I can tell you need more."

You scoff, but it's more of a moan. "Are you going to give it to me then?"

Spencer picks your thighs up, wrapping them over his shoulder and thrusting even deeper inside of you. "God, if I knew it would be this easy to shut you up, I would have done this a long time ago."

"You just never had the balls." You tell him.

"Got them now, don't I?" He reminds you, slamming into you. You can feel yourself getting closer, and he knows it too by your clenching around him. "Want to cum?" He offers.

You nod frantically. "Please." You babble. It's desperate, but when he fucks you so well, you can't help it.

"Tell me it's big." He demands.

"Fuck, Spencer, it's big. I'm sorry, it's so big, and you're really good at this." You say quickly, not wanting him to move the goalpost on your orgasm.

His fingers quickly circle your clit, and you're coming in no time, triggering his release on your stomach when he pulls out.

"So?" He asks once he's flopped down on the bed next to you. "Was it actually okay?"

"Phenomenal." You assure him, dragging your finger through his cum on your skin. "I'm eating my words."

He chuckles at your idiom. "You're cute, you know?" He tells you sincerely and affectionately. "I can make you eat more of your words if you like."

You nod. "I would like that."

[thedeviltohisangel]

That cliffhanger!!! Here for the idea that Bucky tries to give Cass his rations and then she sneaks rations back into his food that he thinks he's going insane and then realizes it's her

in relation to this blurb i wrote a little while ago

also continued here

prompt a little different but more or less the same...

The bowl in front of her looked like it was brown water but she hoped it was broth. It was better than the moldy bread they had thrown at her while they'd quarantined her away from the rest of the camp. At least this had a chunk of unidentified protein floating in it. There was retching in the corner as she continued to just stare at it.

"Eat it. You'll need the protein," John ordered as he tucked into his own bowl. Cass knew she was capable of stomaching whatever it was. She just needed to get the first bite out of the way. He chewed slowly as he observed his wife out of the corner of his eye. Her wounds were healing but slowly. There was very little color to her cheeks. Maybe a bit of dried blood in her hair if he looked hard enough. "Eat." This order was pointed at her. He was still only speaking to her in short snippets.

"I will. Just need to convince myself first." With a steadying breath, she brought the hunk of meat to her mouth and nearly swallowed it whole before quickly tipping the bowl down her throat to wash it away.

"Fuck, Cass," Hambone said as he watched in awe.

"That was incredible," Benny echoed with his eye wide in adoration.

"Thank you, gentleman, I-" She looked down where another piece of meat had appeared in her bowl. John was already up and moving to his bed, but she knew where it had come from. She wanted to argue. Force him to eat it knowing he needed it more. He was bigger and had more muscle to power. But he barely wanted to look at her. Let alone speak to her. Let alone hear her voice argue back at him. She ate it quietly. He watched to make sure.

-

John was the last to wake up the next morning, Cass outside watching the boys work and scratching some kind of code into a tree stump. He had wanted to ask her about it but then remembered he wasn't speaking to her. The early morning, when he could watch her out the window with the privacy of an empty room, was the only time he let his guard down. The only time he allowed himself to admire her. Remind himself that he was the luckiest man in the entire world that this beautiful, intelligent, tenacious woman was his wife. That she loved him fiercely right back. So fiercely she would put herself here. So fiercely she desired to spend her last moments with him even if it was in hell.

Dinner was the same. Cass choked her food down in a gulp or two and John slipped a bit of his own when she wasn't looking. He didn't say anything. Neither did she.

the next time mail came, his mood soured infinitely. The letters from Cass shoved in a box under his bed while she watched him with a sad look. He didn't open them but she was grateful he didn't rip them either. It was the unmarked box that had him curious.

"What's that, Bucky?" Crank asked as they all huddled around the table to look at it.

"Dunno. There's no address anywhere on it," he mused as he slid the paper loose and opened it up. Inside where assorted packs of nuts. A container of peanut butter. A small portion of jerky.

All the men were muttering about the mystery package of food. Salivating at the contents. Told John he must have a guardian angel.

"Eat it," came her feminine voice from the back of the room. "You'll need the protein." One look, he allowed himself on look, and he knew she was responsible. Couldn't even imagine what she had offered the guards in return for the goods. Didn't want to ask for fear of knowing the horrible truth.

"Cass," how sweet her name sounded falling from his lips, "this is..." He didn't know what to say. Not after the distance he had forced between them in the name of keeping her safe. She stopped by him on her way to her bunk. Rested a tentative hand on his shoulder and goosebumps erupted across her skin at the contact.

"This only works if we both make it."

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Drunk with my friends

Nancy Wheeler x Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: That evening, you and your friends had organized a girls' outing. The party was getting better and better and alcohol was playing a bad joke on you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18!! SMUT!! MDNI!!! Blurb, alcohol, toxic religion, fem!reader, use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, lesbian sex, fingerings, voyeurism, cheating, cunnilings, spanking, slight mommy kink, dirty talking, pet names (good girl, baby girl etc...), praise kink, begging, bad language, mention of drugs.

𝐀/𝐍: I love Nancy. Sorry for my english, this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

"Come on Nance! We're going to have fun!" You urged Nancy who still seemed unconvinced.

You, Robin and Chrissy planned to go on a girls' outing and of course, Nancy was the mom of the group. Meaning she's always hesitant about partying and staying up late at night.

"That's right, nothing will happen" Robin chimed in "I don't know girls, are you sure? What if we drink too much?" Nancy said worriedly. You rolled your eyes as Chrissy watched the scene in silence a little lost in Robin "We'll be at my house. No danger, no boyfriends, no drugs, just alcohol and even if we drink too much nothing too bad will happen" You said walking closer to her placing your hand on her shoulder, she smiled at you "Alright..." She said making a big smile from you and Robin.

In your house. The evening was truly crazy. You having fun to the music while laughter filled the living room.

In the last period, you felt stressed and it had been a short time since the last time you had a night out just for you girls. But let's not talk about boyfriends! You were dating a boy you met thanks to a friend of your mother. He seemed very kind and helpful towards you, your mother wanted at all costs for you to find a meeting point with him. He was also strongly religious, as your father liked, so both of your parents took the opportunity to introduce you to him and find a way for you to get together. Real shit. Yes. As forced as it was, you liked him at first and so when he reciprocated you got together, but lately things were getting worse and worse.

He only thought about reading and barely said hello to you. He also specifically told you that acts such as sexual pleasure were not to his liking, so he would not have sex with you until you both make the decision to have a child in the future. You couldn't blame him if he had been raised badly by his mother. He barely knows what it means having fun. You would have left him, for sure, even if you were afraid of disappointing your parents.

Nancy was engaged to Jonathan. For now she didn't have many problems about it but the only thing that was wrong was the distance which made her insecure.

Chrissy was engaged to Jason, the most popular boy at Hawkins High. Lately the two have done nothing but argue, and the little cheerleader would like to have some time to have fun and be carefree.

Robin on the other hand...has no one. She's a lesbian in love but not engaged, so she's the quietest one of all.

It was ten in the evening and you could still hear your screams as you were putting a large quantity of alcohol in your stomach.

From speaking you began to play spin the bottle, in a certain sense... it was spin the bottle but with the words 'truth' or 'dare'.

“Come on Y/N, it's your turn” Robin told you and you flipped the empty Coke bottle onto the board. The tip of the bottle ended up on the yellow segment where 'dare' was written.

“Now you have to dare someone to do something,” Robin explained. You looked at the three girls to decide and set your sights on Nancy, who was also dead drunk by now.

“I dare Nancy to show me her tits” You said shamelessly. Ever since you started your evening you can't take your eyes off her breasts. You didn't know if it was the effect of the alcohol or what, but damn did you want to see them. Robin and Chrissy were speechless but they seemed to enjoy this ambiguous dare.

Nancy, throughout all this she looked at you with wild eyes "You're a pervert Williams, you couldn't wait to look at a pair of tits" She told you and you followed the divine movement of her lips while the two spectators remained watching without saying anything, curious how it would end. "Exactly, I'm curious to see yours" came a surprised noise from the lips of Robin and the cheerleader.

Alcohol was playing tricks on you, but this was not a joke...

You don't remember how, or rather, you two don't remember how. But you both ended up licking each other's tits, while Robin and Chrissy watched and cheered you on.

Nancy let out a few moans as you sucked on her hardened nipple.

The atmosphere had heated up and Nancy was the center of your attention. She was beautiful and her curious look as she looked at you was even better. Robin couldn't believe her eyes. In an instant two of her straight friends had become lesbians or any other sexuality in a matter of minutes. Was it the alcohol? Very likely in Robin's view. But not from yours. Sure, you were drunk, but you never denied yourself the attraction you had for Nancy. She was a beautiful woman, but not only in the aesthetic sense, but in everything. She was tough and she could stand up to you, she was responsible and when she ordered someone to do something...God you couldn't help but fantasize.

What were once fantasies were becoming reality and you couldn't miss this opportunity. You lifted your face and pressed your lips against hers kissing her. Robin and Chrissy, looking at you, started to warm up too, and after various comments, they too let themselves go. All four of you were a couple kissing sitting on the living room floor. Nancy reciprocated by adding tongue and you couldn't help but moan, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Fuck you. Fuck everything. Boyfriends, parents, friends and problems. Fuck you. All of you were now free as lust crawled between your legs. You in particular wanted to make bad decisions and bring down every perfect thing you had half-heartedly created.

Now you would have shouted the worst swear words at your shitty life. Fuck religion or any other shit, pussy was your religion now.

Sure enough, Nancy made you lie down on the floor and broke away from the kiss "Nance..." You said panting. She didn't say anything, just watched as you tried to catch your breath. You gave her a pathetic, submissive look, and Nancy couldn't help but giggle in your face "Poor thing..." her hand slid down your dress until it reached your skirt. Her left hand held your thigh tight making you keep your legs open, while with the thumb of her right hand she touched the wet part of your panties making you moan softly “I knew it Y/N, you are a dirty pervert, what should I do about you?" She said grinning as she pulled off your underwear.

You didn't answer and Nancy slapped your ass and you groaned "I said what should I do with you?" She repeated "Anything you want..." you blushed "Good girl..." she told you and then touched your wet folds with two fingers.

You also took a look at the other two. Both were definitely without clothes and Chrissy was making circular motions on her clit while Robin placed a few kisses on her neck, praising her and urging her to continue. You let out a moan as you felt Nancy's fingers enter your pussy. She didn't even give you a second, she started moving her fingers in and out making you moan pleasantly.

To think that in a few weeks you would have to go for confirmation. You will not be able to pray well if you have a guilty conscience and know that you have sinned so much. But you didn't care.

You had always been a devil with a halo.

Being still one would have changed little in your life.

You couldn't help the pornographic sound your pussy made as Nancy's fingers went in and out faster and faster. The living room had become a mass of moans from all four. Chrissy was about to come again, for the second time, while you were ready to reach your orgasm.

It was a beautiful feeling, and you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as her fingers were hitting that sweet spot inside you "Ohh- mommy, please..." You begged, not realizing what you called her. Nancy, the nickname didn't bother her and she didn't say anything about it "Shut up and cum" she just told you, and you didn't have to be told twice. You came screaming her name, wetting her fingers while tears ran down your face.

“Very good sweetie...” she praised you and saw your luxurious look. She pulled her fingers out of your pussy and tasted your juices “Mmhh…” she looked you straight in the eyes and sent shivers down your spine, making you close your legs.

"Ah-ah-ah, no no Y/N. Open these legs" she grabbed your thigh and you obediently did so "Good" was the last thing you heard and you looked again at the other two girls. Both were on the sofa, now tired and asleep. Of the two, Chrissy was the truly exhausted one.

You arched your back as you felt Nancy lick your clit. She continued sucking and licking until you came. Her whole face was now full of your cum, but Nancy didn't seem to mind, in fact, this allowed her to continue more wildly, torturing your poor clit "Ugh- mommy..." You repeated that nickname as your moans they increased more and more "It's too much, please...-" You begged but Nancy didn't want to listen to you, she slipped her tongue inside your hole making you tremble more than usual. You were about to come once again. Tears continued to fall down your face as you felt your third orgasm approaching “NancyNancyNancyNancy-” You repeated her name until she pulled away making you come “Fuck...” she said, wiping her lips of your cum.

You gasped and your vision went blurry.

The next day you woke up in the living room. It was early in the morning and the way you found yourself definitely shocked you. You and Nancy were half naked while Robin and Chrissy were completely naked on your couch. You immediately understood what had happened, and above all who you fucked last night. Nancy lay next to you, eyes closed as she was in dreamland. You got drunk with your friends. And that led to you fucking each other.

From that day on you decided to plan another girls night out.

[clever-fox-studios]

Did that Princess Mononoke thing as a riff off of something canon. The only reason he's saying that is because of brain damage, but don't worry he'll be fine (and pissed) later

This is technically canon, but only in spirit; at the point of this occurring, Black would never say/admit/think anything good about Jenn but for the sake of stupid AUs I gave him a concussion XD Of course, she wouldn't believe him anyway, but it would catch her off guard because it's so out of pocket; him not using it to get away would also be confusing. 

"Under the Knife" AU (it's not actually an AU) blurb:

In this AU snippet, this is his breaking point where he finally gives up, as he's given a moment of mental clarity and realizes it's not worth it. With everything that's happened, the foggy thought that this angry human covered in cuts and dirt, holding his own knife to his throat even though it wouldn't do anything to him, is so far disconnected from how he feels with his head not full of commands and prompts, he doesn't even register the threat. "It is what it is".

If they keep going, sure he'd probably work out a win purely because he outlasts and outclasses her in strength and stamina--but she's outsmarted him in every instance. This wouldn't be any different. He feels it. Knows it.

In this moment, through glitching HUD and cracked lenses, he can see her eyes. The desperation and rage so intense they seem to glow, filled with light and thunder that he put there. In another life, this would make him proud--smug even--to know this force of will behind her eyes was his doing. These feelings exist because of him. For him. He'd driven her to this point and come out on the other side at her feet.

He was a failure, but that mattered so much less than the light of her eyes in this moment. With nothing else to lose, nothing left ahead, he let himself have this one thought because it was his. Only his, with no malice or command behind it, no ulterior motive for it to exist. Under the ash and blood, beneath the bruises and cuts he himself inflicted in their repeated scuffles with each adding more fury to the brilliant blue irises that pinned him down more assuredly than the knife ever could, he found beauty.

By his own choice, he would say as much, even if she would never believe him. That wasn't the point, however, so it didn't matter if she accepted this truth as it tumbled from his tired mouth. At least he knew it was his choice to speak. To say what he could manage through the horrid pain in his head.

And yet a flicker changed in those raging blue eyes--confusion--as short lived as it was. She wouldn't believe him--she DIDN'T believe him.

But that wasn't the point.

He didn't care.

He was tired.

"Well?" he went on when she failed to act. "Just get it over with already."

[cool-cowboy]

Summary:

In which Father Kennedy comes up with a plan to expel your mutual lust by forcing the both of you to cope with it, and the plan works, for about a minute, then he confesses his undying and eternal love for you and does you on the altar while you stare at Jesus Christ.

This is the second work in this storyline, reading the first one isn't all that necessary, just know you've already indulged once before, during the previous Sunday's confession. If you like your men obsessed this one is definitely for you. Enjoy!

Tags:

Priest Leon S. Kennedy, Alternate universe- Medieval, Church Sex, Catholicism, Guilt, Adultery, Love confessions, Catholic prayers, Altar sex, Naked female clothed male, Body worship, Semi-public sex, Multiple orgasms, Oral sex, Vaginal fingering, Teasing, Vaginal sex, Cum shot, Aftercare

Blurb:

“If we are to abstain, why would we come here alone? Is that not counterproductive?”

“Temptation can only be overcome if it is present, miss. We are in no position to flee, we must face our desires and let God lead us in the way he sees fit. I intend to cure us of our illness in as quick a manner as possible, so we will need to bury ourselves in it, let the wound fester prior to healing."

Text:

“Father? Um- Stephan’s home, you-”

“I wasn’t looking to come inside. Accompany me through town, we have some things to discuss.” I nod, unsure exactly what said discussion will entail, considering it has been only a few days following our indiscretion, and I haven’t seen him once, though the guilt has been heavy, making me sickly to even look at Stephan, who is none the wiser, thankfully, I wouldn’t want to need to sin again by lying to ward off any suspicion regarding my adultery.

“Alright. Let me go and tell Stephan, he doesn’t like for me to leave without notice. Come in, Father.” I pull the door a little further open, allowing him inside and out of the cold, my thoughts already ungodly at the sight of him in his casual clothing, the collared shirt tight over his neck, and his upper body as well, providing an overly enticing view which leaves very little to the imagination.

“Hurry along, miss, we have things to attend to.” I nod, a little feverish, not glad to have been caught ogling, as well as anxious to speak to Stephan about the Father in any regard. I hurry to the study, admittedly delighted at the thought of any manner of time spent with the priest, even if it is sinful.

“Stephan?” He has the door closed, was telling me a few hours prior my cleaning was interrupting his work, so much so he had to close his door to keep me from being bothersome. He utters a soft “Come in” from the other side, so I do, opening the door slowly to keep from disturbing him, wary to rouse his bad mood.

“What could possibly be so damn important you’re interrupting a second time?” I don’t look at him, well aware being too bold is never a smart decision, just keep my gaze down and wring my hands, any attempt to calm the nervousness falling entirely flat.

“I just- I wanted to tell you I’m heading out for a short while.” I glance up, his expression unhappy, though he really should be glad to be rid of me, if I truly am being such a nuisance.

“Where?” A tight leash, that’s what he’s named it, his stipulation of getting to ask his questions before giving his assent for me to do as I please, though he��s usually not all that big of a part of my day, keeps to himself besides mealtimes and when he’s looking to bed me, more often as of late, our marriage barren without me giving him any children, of course I take precaution where I can, lily root has never failed me so far, though if Stephan ever found out about my unwillingness to bear his children I’d be in quite the predicament, I’ve already received more than a few slaps due to my “Infertility”.

“Just through town. The Father has some things he wants to discuss.” I hope it’s sufficient, I would rather be truthful where possible, I never had the chance to become a skillful liar, never had reason to, before now.

“The Father? What business do you have with Mr. Kennedy?” I’m sweating, hands wiped on the front of my dress doing nothing to abate the clamminess on my skin, my guilt plain, thankfully not so plain to my husband, this being one of the few occasions I’m glad he doesn’t pay me much mind.

“I assume it’s something to do with the choir, Meredith’s out of town for now, I assume he expects me to fill her role for the time being.” A convenient story, a truthful one, which happens to work very nicely in my favor.

“Sure. You’ll be back in time to make supper?” I hum an affirmative, and he waves me off, going quickly back to his writing, ignoring me once again, other than a final “Make sure you’re not “too tired” tonight”, the excuse I’ve been giving lately, claiming to be too busy to have the energy to give into being bedded, not that it works majority of the time, he does as he pleases no matter how pleading my asking him not to is. I leave him, not wanting to be a bigger bother than necessary, heading back down the hall to a man who’s more than willing to offer his time, the father waiting patiently just where I’d left him, inspecting a painting of Stephan and I hung just inside the door.

“He agreed?” I nod, making sure not to stare, taking my furs from their hook and shrugging them on, having a look at him when I’m finished, his expression serious, professional, not unusual, though we are closer now, close in a way I would have never guessed, me being the only person on the entirety of earth who has seen him in the throes of pleasure, lost to desire, the thought of his entirely different self rousing goosebumps over my arms, enticed and afraid at once.

“Let’s be off, I’ll need to arrive back with time to prepare Stephan’s supper.” He opens the door, letting me through first before closing it softly behind, the action not of any importance to him, but indescribably touching for me, something Stephan has never once done in the years I’ve known him, even while he was courting me he was selfish, luckily for him so was my father. “So, Father, what is it you… Wanted to discuss?” I’m curious, we’ve never spent time together outside of church hours, never had any reason to, which leads me to believe this has everything to do with Sunday’s confession.

“What is it about me that you enjoy?” I pull my brows together, taking his offered hand to help me down the steps, unsure why he’d ask something so forward, or where he intends to bring this discussion, the warmth of him lingering on my skin when he releases me, our pace lazy, a simple stroll, not entirely normal, but I suppose no one will gossip about Mr. Kennedy, the thought offering relative safety as we trail along, even if I’m not all that glad there are so many others out at this time of day.

“Forgive me, but why- Why do you ask?” I cast a look toward him, wary of having this conversation in public, even in the mostly empty residential block.

“I think I may have found a way to rid the both of us of our yearning… I suppose I should set the example. I find you perfect. You enrapture me with your nature, truly, you consume my mind and body with your presence, my entire being is delighted at any reminder of you, miss. I believe there is reason behind your draw, of course, God has sent you to me, and me to you, as either of our most formidable trials, lust being our greatest weakness-”

“Father, I don’t see how this is- What solution can we have for a trial from God other than to abstain?” He smiles, seeming overly giddy at my words, nodding along with them, his footsteps pausing just in front of the church’s walkway, his body turned to face mine, large in front of me, undeniably masculine, everything I would have wanted if the choice was mine to make.

“You’ve figured it out all on your own, miss. Abstaining is the only way, we must make a habit of it, that’s what I’m suggesting. Come.” He leads the way, the both of us entering the empty church, no service going on at midday on a Wednesday.

“If we are to abstain, why would we come here alone? Is that not counterproductive?” It surely seems that way, the tension settles the moment the door is closed behind us, thick and heavy, the weight of sin on my shoulders, my guilt eating me from inside out, an excruciatingly powerful deterrent, I must say.

“Temptation can only be overcome if it is present, miss. We are in no position to flee, we must face our desires and let God lead us in the way he sees fit. I intend to cure us of our illness in as quick a manner as possible, so we will need to bury ourselves in it, let the wound fester prior to healing. Sit.” I do, take a seat one the frontmost pew, watching him take a seat beside me, a small amount closer than what would be considered appropriate, though I suppose it’s necessary, being close enough to lean in but having the willpower not to. I wonder if he’s looking this well kept on purpose, to be enticing, he looks more put together than usual, and I must admit it is making me a little warm, my face heated only from being alone with him, sat close enough for him to do as he pleases, no confession window keeping me from seeing the entirety of him. “We will need to expel our desires… Have you been praying to the lord daily?” He’s sinning, the evidence is all over him, that same low, lusty quality to his gaze, the roughness of his voice, the pink dusting over his cheeks, the telltale tightness of his breeches. He seems to be trying to distract himself, keep his thoughts from wandering down the more unrighteous path, and I’m doing the same, though my mind has a tendency to wander, especially during time with the Father.

“Yes, of course, for forgiveness and guidance. I haven’t seen a difference- In the-uhm- The… Frequency of the ungodly thoughts, no matter the amount of times I plead for it.” God has been unkind to me in the past weeks, never providing any type of assistance to aid me with my problem, but I suppose that’s how it’s meant to be, it is my choice to be godly, or to give into the need burning through me, the scorching hot, pleasurable want that is nearly worth it.

“The lord works in mysterious ways, miss. We must remember this. We are to choose our own path, be worthy or risk our salvation when judgment comes.” I nod in agreement, though I can’t help but question it, God’s will, his willingness to tempt but not allow humankind to be tempted, the all-knowing man surely already knows what choice we will make, which path we will continue down. “Though it is true all sins are equivalent under the lord… As long as we are forgiven we are cleansed…” He has a hand over the front of his pants, just rested there, his expression lax, only a little pained, the suggestion clear, an offer to call off our abstinence before it’s even had the chance to begin, give into temptation and assume we will be granted forgiveness for our weakness.

“Father? You’re suggesting… We should..?” I’m not so sure, not that I’m strong enough to resist if he was to suggest we indulge again, it does seem much less consequential now that we’ve already done so once before.

“Not suggesting, merely… Well, perhaps I did suggest it. You really have ruined me, miss.” He sighs, closing his eyes and covering his face with one hand, seeming strung up, not all that willing to make either decision. “I’m all too willing to fail, only when it comes to you, all I ask is that we remain discreet, my position is based on the trust of the town, I cannot have them finding out I’m a sinner, they will lose all faith in me, I can’t have that.” I nod, unnerved he’s planning to keep this tryst going for longer than today, though I can’t say I won’t be glad to continue as we have, one sin is equal to many, penance is the only way we will be saved now.

“We cannot be found out. Stephan, he would- I’d-”

“I’m well aware, miss. I wouldn’t allow it, you will not be harmed. We will be sure to keep this under wraps, yes?” I hum, still afraid, a continued offense meaning more instances our sin could be revealed. “Good, well, I suppose reveling in temptation wasn’t the ingenious idea I thought it would be… Truthfully I’m being ungodly right now, thinking of how beautiful you were when you bore yourself to me, allowed me to pleasure you…” He’s touching me, has a hand on my knee over my skirts, his upper body turned toward me, the shift in the conversation bringing forth the familiar warm sensation, a buzzing of want settled over me, heavy and hot and unyielding.

“Father, we… Someone could come in…” He doesn’t seem to mind, his expression hazy, face near to mine, his breathing a little hoarse, excited.

“Don’t be worried, miss, I must admit I had lustful intentions, I turned the lock, in the case we weren’t well equipped to resist… Seems my hunch wasn’t far off, unless you aren’t as fully depraved as me… Tell me, do you wish to indulge?” He speaks softly, kind, his face a breath from mine, his hand pausing its upward travels to await my answer, this man who has no need to be so gentlemanly giving me the kind of choice I’ve yearned for nearly the entirety of my life as if it’s something so common.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned, and I will do so again.” I sign the cross, praying my repentance will be enough, watching him sign his own, not at all concealing his lustful gaze, the holy signal dampened by his hand running a little further up my leg, my skin already sickly hot, the both of us anticipating it, steeling ourselves with heavy breaths.

“The father is just, he will cleanse and forgive the faithful of their sins…” He presses his lips to mine, soft and slow, the beginning of depravity, the sealing of our shared sin, the sweetest sin I’ve ever committed, the only one I’d give up everything to commit again and again. “This is it… The start of our descent… The most beautiful madness I could ever conceive of… The most evil perfection there is, my all consuming want, you.” He’s not rushed, it’s not in his nature, he’s calm, collected, his lips rough against mine, as well as his palm, cupped gently to my jaw, holding me to him, his skin hot against me, a reminder of sin, the heat a sort of omen of where we’re headed, a prelude to the heat of damnation we’re settling ourselves into. “I wish I could explain… The things I feel for you… The power you have over me… The carnal, painful need simmering inside…” He’s easing me back, slow, laying me back on my elbows, leaning over me to keep our lips connected, his hand trailing down from my jaw, ghosting over the curve of my waist, the gentle touch completely unfamiliar, his softness entirely enrapturing, his honest words spoken into kisses with a passion and fervor I could never begin to explain. “The sweet embrace of sin… Is all too enticing while you’re the one offering it… Miss, I have a confession.” He stops, pulling back to look down on me, his face and lips both flushed, nearly as flushed as mine feel, the both of us breathing heavy as he rests above me, his expression earnest and pained, distraught at his yearning.

“What is it, father?” He doesn’t tell me, rather sits up, pulling me along once he’s stood, lifting me right up out of the pew to rest across his arms, carrying me up the steps before pausing, just looking at me, still distraught, swallowing in a nervous manner as he looks down on me.

“My heart has always been full of God.” He sets me down, right on the altar, smoothing my skirts before sinking down, rested on his knees in front of me, staring up at me with that same expression, utterly terrified of what I’ve done to him, his hand moving to sign the cross before letting it rest over his thigh. “I’ve never had the room for anything further than the lord… Never felt inclined to make any, but you- You’ve shoved your way inside, clawed through a lifetime of God’s will and made your own home in my heart. The thought of- I’m appalled by it, the precedence you’ve assumed… Miss, you’ve consumed me, reached inside and tore my heart and taken it for yourself… Though… I find I don’t mind, and if it makes me ungodly then so be it- because I’m- I won’t apologize for being smitten with someone so utterly perfect- This is a mistake I would make time and time again, because it isn’t- Loving is never a mistake.” Love. I’m not sure I can say I’ve ever loved anyone, surely not Stephan, even if I do tell him so, the closest I’ve ever come to love is probably whatever warmth I have for the man before me, though I couldn’t admit it, loving him would be the worst possible offense, a far more real version of whatever we’re doing here, a crime for which there is no punishment other than the wrath of god.

“Father, we- You-”

“Just let me say it, I will bear my sins to you, you need not return my sentiment, I merely cannot keep the feeling festering inside any longer, feel free to ignore my ramblings, I am nothing but a godless madman, prepared to worship at your altar… Your body is the only temple I need, the only thing important enough to tear me from God, so allow me this, give me the freedom to speak my truth, divulge my sins to both you and the lord.” He’s touching me, staring at me with his head turned to the side, lips pressed to the skin of my inner ankle, lifted with a soft touch, the look in his eyes making me sickly, something so beautiful I can’t stand it, a care I’ve never seen, love. “I relinquish myself to you, completely, miss, from now until forever, I am yours, entirely. I will worship you, offer you all that I can in means of companionship and affection, though you need not do the same, I simply just cannot deny myself the simple pleasure of offering up my love, all of which belongs to you… Solely.” He’s making his way up, smoothly kissing up the inside of my thigh, looking up at me from his place on the floor, entirely enamored, his hand pushing slowly up on my skirts as he moves.

“Father..? I don’t- You can’t- You can’t say these things in God’s place…” He pauses his kissing, turning to look at me straight on, my skirts hiked up over my knee, my skin burning hot and clammy, worried what God will think of us now, two devoted disciples worshiping the other rather than our creator, indulging in an ungodly love.

“What I feel for you is not my doing, miss. I have fought against it long enough, I cannot convince my heart to feel for you any differently than I do. God knows this, knows I truly have tried my absolute hardest to quell my affections but I’m- This isn’t a decision I get to make, I’d continue loving you if I kept quiet. Just- Let me give myself to you, while we’re alone, the only time I can love you without looking your husband in the face… Let me love you before I face my guilt.” He looks near tears, voice soft and pleading, his hands coming palms together before he presses them to the wood between my legs, forehead to his thumbs, face hidden in my skirts. “Please, miss, forgive me, I did not intend to divulge my most gruesome secret, I only saw it fit to not hide it from you any longer- If you do not wish to continue-”

“I would- I mean… You may continue…” He lifts his head, lifts it and smiles, soft and affectionate, sickeningly so, his devotion pouring through his gaze, through his touch, his hands warm and rough on the skin of my opposite leg, fingers easing up on my skirts as he looks at me, his hand bringing my ankle to his lips, his eyes peering at me sideways as he lays slow kisses to my skin, slicking it with sinful saliva, his sin so overwhelming he’s lost in it, looking at me in a way that suggests nothing else on God’s earth matters as long as him and I are here, like this, indulging in something so terrible, but nothing of the sort, something so passionate it could only be god’s will.

“You’ve changed me… Molded me into something new… Laid the me before you to bed… Given me a new purpose… Pleasing you… My lord, you’re so beautiful I could do absolutely nothing other than gaze at you for the remainder of my days…” He’s made it up to my knee, my skirts hiked to my lap, his hands on the outsides of my legs, running up as he stands, pushing up further on my clothes before trailing his fingers up and over them, up from my hips to the lacing at my stomach, his eyes on mine as he pulls the knot, slow, his words quiet, the both of us too hot, too much feeling between us, too much to simply speak, the need burning low, humming beneath my skin. “I’ll say this, miss, you’ve made me human in a way I’ve never been… Shown me with your touch and care that I am to be cared for as I care for others…” He’s working my dress up, gently getting it up and over my head before smoothing my hair, not showing any interest in the skin he’s just exposed, instead continuing to stare into my face, conveying his truth through his gaze, his hands smoothing at the sides of my hair, the softness making me nearly emotional, a kind of fussing I’ve never received nor knew I’d wanted, all until now, until him. “You are my test, not of my willpower, but of how much of my love I can give away. I will not stop loving you, miss, I will love you until the day I die and after, I will claw my way out from beneath my grave and return to you, that is my penance, the one thing I can do to show that this is not a physical want, but an insatiable yearning to be one, a craving to be yours and to have you as mine, make a home for you inside my heart which cannot be sullied by fear or insecurity, a safe haven filled with all the warmth I have for you…” He kisses me, hands on the sides of my face, my body all but bare but without attention, this kind of lust without hurry, not about the physical pleasure as much as indulging in the warmth between us.

“Father… I must be… Off soon…” He hums, leaving one last lingering kiss on my lips before returning to his knees, hands pulling on my undergarments, leaving me fully bare, his clothing still fully intact, the clerical clothing still as crisp as ever, all of him smooth, enticing.

“Soon then, until then… Bless me Lord, and these thy gifts, which I am about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.” He leans in, kissing up the inside of my knee as he eases my legs wider, trailing fingertips up the opposite side, his eyes peering up at me in his affectionate manner, his beauty laid out below me, utter perfection at my disposal. “I will do all that I can to please you, be free to speak any wishes you may have, I’m more than happy to oblige… I would be satisfied only to satisfy you…” He presses a thumb to my hole, or rather the wetness there, slipping it up to press to the pleasurable spot I’m not sure what to call, rubbing up and down, watching my face, seeming pleased at my expression, tightened with the feeling he’s offering, his breath fanning over my privates making me tense against him. “This is God’s will… It must be, otherwise he would never have allowed me this information, the secret to unraveling you until you’re puddled, so well worked you’ll never need anything else… God wishes me happiness, and that happiness lies where I’m able to show you my care… Where I can give you at least a fraction of what you deserve, miss. I’m curious… Let me…” He tastes me, softly, licking up and sending a pleasurable jolt through me. He groans, sounding pleased with his findings, moving to close his lips where his thumb has left, light suction there a whole lot more intense than the pressure beforehand, my light gasp getting him to continue, the image of him between my thighs entirely sinful, beautiful in the way of Lucifer, led astray, an angel who’s done wrong, cast down into my arms, well, between trembling thighs. “Yes… My lord this is… You’re incredible… The most perfect body and soul, truly the image of God…” He moves back to using his thumb, watching me with his pretty blue eyes, his lips skimming over the skin of my thigh, my wetness shining on his lips evidence of our actions. “This must be heaven on earth… Alone with only you… Nothing veiled any longer… Only my love for you laid out for God to see, whether he strike me down or grant me forgiveness I will not regret this, I could never bring myself to regret you.” The pressure is building, my hand mussing his hair, legs closed on either side of him, his thumb moving against me, the tightness making me breathless, unbearably hot, damnation so close it’s pressing into me, making me sick with fever. “You’re nearly there, miss, you’re afraid- Don’t be, worry on judgment day, for now only focus yourself on me, let me worship you, give you pleasure, mark you with my hands and body, leave traces of you all over me, ruin myself with your touch, plunge deeper and deeper into the depravity I’ve fought for so long I can’t remember the first time I sinned in your name.” He pauses his ramblings to watch me, head thrown back as I orgasm, intense pleasure along with the familiar searing heat washing over me, sweet words coaxing me down even as I pull on his hair.

“Father, father- We must hurry, come up.” He listens, standing to his whole height, still towering even as I’m sat up on the altar, his body slotted between my legs as he captures my lips, the taste of me on his lips somehow enticing, a reminder of what he’s done for me, of his depravity, of our willingness to deny God.

“Would you like to continue?” I nod, using a hand to pull him back to my lips, my other hand fumbling with his breeches, his hands taking over in a silent display of care.

“Would you… I’d like to… Please you.” I press a hand to his chest, backing him up enough to sink to the floor between him and the altar, his manhood bare to me, his clothes still mostly in place other than the undone clasp of his breeches.

“You’d really… You’d-” I grip him, softly, his whole body jolting as I run my hand up the length, looking up at him as I close my lips over him, the taste barely familiar, salty. “That’s… Lord help me, I’m hellbound…” He lets me do as I please, just pets the side of my hair as I sink down, gagging before I expect to, pulling back with watery eyes before taking him back in, my hands on clothed thighs, his expression worried, mouth gaping, the flush spread up to his ears and down his chest. “This is… Truly-ah- Lord, forgive me, forgive us, we will-hah- we will sin again and again, accept our-our penance and our pleas for forgiveness and-nnh cleanse us of our wrong doings-” He leans over me, one hand planted on the altar, the other gripped to my hair, leading me along, his head hanging, eyes closed tight, mouth opened in the pleasure I’m offering. “Nearly- I’ll never-Ah- I’ve never- Felt anything like this. So beautiful-hah- Heavenly- Your mouth is just as perfect as-Nnh! Perfect-Miss-!” He pulls me away, reaching out and pulling me up, taking care to wipe away the mess on my lips before easing me back onto the altar, his body against me, the heat terrible, dizzying, my body laid out below god, head over the edge of the altar, jesus christ staring down at me from his place against the wall, his body strung up to make up for me, for my lust, the greed to want more than what I’ve gotten, the sickness inside of me, whatever sickness has led me here, the father’s manhood pressing inside, my eyes on the son, his on me, the guilt making me sick, the distraction of the man above me not able to do anything to abate the burning heat settled over us, marking us as sinners.

“Forgive me, father in- in heaven, I will- I am a child of sin… I pray you will invite me- to paradise, forgive me for the-ah-the wrong I’ve done.” He lets me take care of my prayer, stays seated inside while I do, waiting, my eyes coming to his once I’m finished, both of us too unwilling to give up on whatever disgusting kind of pleasure this is to properly show appreciation to the lord.

“Miss… We really… Are you truly willing to- delve into the depths of depravity, accept and wear this sin as yours-Ours?” I really shouldn’t, I should high tail it out of this forsaken church and never speak to him again, but I truly can’t bring myself to deny him, or myself, something so searing hot, something so correct, perfectly incredible, his skin against mine the only thing I’ve ever truly longed for, enjoyed.

“Yes, I accept my sin and my penance, I need this, father, you.” He swallows, seeming distraught at my confession, at my willingness to be ruined, to sin alongside him.

“Then so be it.” He moves, slowly, drawing himself back and slowly forward, leaning over me and gazing down, one hand beside my ribs, the other gripped to my hip. “My God… I- You’re so-ah- beautiful… So- Tempting-! Miss, this is my love, this- This is the most of me I can-Nnh- Offer-! Being one with you- seated deep inside- this- this is the most-ah- Feels so- so good…” He’s lost, eyes nearly closed, opened for the sole purpose of gazing into me, his hips hitting the backs of my thighs, the sound echoing through the empty pews, his hand pulling me, coaxing me in to meet him, thumb stretched across to rub that spot, the both of us panting like dogs, feverish from our wrongdoing, burning with evil, a lovely sort. “Even if- If everyone found us ungodly- I wouldn’t- I’d kiss ungodly skin, live in an-ah- ungodly home, sink deep into an-hah- an- ungodly woman- Give into depravity, worship the opposite-Hnn- the-ah- of what I’ve sworn to, give myself over to the devil-” He’s laid out over me, head between my breasts as he works against me, both of us sweating, my hands in his hair and gripped to the side of the altar, my head tipped right side down, gaze on the son of God, my legs trembling, all of it too much, the devotion, the sin, the weight of him, the heat passed between us, all of it wretched, painfully precious. “You’ve corrupted me, miss, made me born new, born to-ah- love you, to satisfy this sinful need, to sink into the burning heat and-hah- and make my home there… God- You’re- You-Hnn- This is the only heaven I need, buried inside the- the woman of my dreams, our bodies and souls-ah- as one, two sinners lost in- in the- the- other-! Hah-The- feel of your skin is the most enticing touch I’ve ever-Nnh- The taste of your lips, your warmth, your sacrifice, ours, our shared sin…” He’s speaking into my skin, breath hot between my ribs, the heat of him nearly painful, his hand bouncing me against him, his manhood pressed deep with every thrust of his hips, my thighs tight and shaking around him, the high nearly there, Jesus staring down on us, reminding me of my guilt, the man waiting in my home, a man who could never even come close to making me feel like this, warm and overwhelmed and weightless and satiated all at once. He’s nearly finished, teeth gnashed and eyes screwed shut, forehead pressed to my skin, his thumb moving desperately against me.

“If the lord won’t forgive us for having this- I don’t wish for his- His forgiveness, I’d choose this a-ah- million times over- This- Emotion and pleasure like I’ve never felt, the touch of a woman who-Hnn- Woman who I’ve bared my soul to- Laid my heart out at your feet and you’ve taken it and-My Lord-! And me, placed your sweet lips on mine and given me all I’ve ever longed for. Let me return a- a piece of the pleasure you’ve given me- give you one more unforgettable high, one more today and a million more the following. Yes, God, yes- Miss, let me have it, Let me-Hnnn-!” I do, back arched up off the altar, the feeling entirely too much, wave after wave of heat and haze over me, both his hands on my waist to pull me in, his pace messy and quick, his noises whiny, huffed out against me, a final prayer in hopes of getting away with this. “Holy Mary, Mother of-Oh God, pray for us sinners, now and at- at the- the hour of our-Hah- our death-!” He leaves me empty, the high fading off as he empties, warmth laid all over my stomach, my eyes forward, toward Jesus, the loss of pleasure bringing a grief for who I was, a god loving and pure woman, now ruined, sinful and wretched, undeserving of God’s love, though that was the choice I made, the decision between the lord and my desire. “I love you, miss, purely and ceaselessly and infinitely, I will love you.” I believe I chose correctly, I suppose only time will tell, though I can’t help but find this love much more unconditional, the soft touch following the scene, gentle, rough hands easing me up to seated, a handkerchief cleaning the mess on my stomach, my hair smoothed sweetly, the closing of his prayer whispered against the skin of my forehead following a lingering kiss . “Amen.”

“Amen."

[holllandtrash]

watching the austria post race and seeing lando and pierre being quite friendly w each other, thinking about the better series....

a short better series blurb, following the austria gp - 700 words

you stood off to the side and watched the F1TV post-race interview play out. pierre wasn't originally supposed to join lando but when his pr manager gave him the nod and handed him a mic, it was clear there was a change in plans.

pierre tapped lando on the shoulder, "bonjour."

lando smiled when he recognized it was another driver on the grid who had accompanied him, "bonjour, ça va?"

"Ça va," pierre nodded with a chuckle. they might not have been on the best of terms, but it always brought him joy when the non-french speaking drivers greeted him in his language.

they were friendly throughout the interview, taking turns responding to questions. from where you stood just behind Rosanna, leaning against the motorhome, you had direct line of site to Pierre.

Lando was blocked for the most part by Jolyon, but you could make out his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to pierre, nodding every so often.

he saw you, there was no way he didn't see you. even if he didn't see your face right away, the pink canvas converse. it was the only thing that stood out in your neutral outfit. a dead giveaway who you were here to support.

lando put more weight on his back and leg and subtly turned his head in your direction. it was only for a second, but you caught it. you caught his eyes. you saw the way the corner of his lips turned upwards and not at something pierre said but because you were there.

he was then pulled back into the conversation and lando stumbled over his words slightly. not enough that anyone passing by would notice, nor would the commentators. but you noticed. pierre noticed. pierre was smooth though and brought the mic back up to his lips to take over, to take some of the tension off lando.

"you didn't get a penalty though, did you?" jolyon asked the british driver for confirmation.

"no, no i've been a good boy," lando joked, that familiar cheeky grin returning to his cheeks. why did it make you smile too?

pierre laughed, "for once."

that comment could have been taken to heart. there was some underlying truth to it. a painful yet humorous reminder that lando had in fact, made mistakes in the past. of course, pierre's two cents wasn't in reference to his track performance. no, it was in direct reference to you.

you counted down the seconds until finally pierre put the mic down on the table. he patted lando on the back and his eyes instantly found you, face lighting up as he returned to your side.

"i heard that," you nudged your body against his. "your little for once."

pierre draped his arm over your shoulder, "if there is every an opportunity to remind lando how he messed up, i will take it, cherie."

"it's been months. we're all civil at this point."

but were you?

you still had yet to actually talk to lando face to face. still had yet to say any words to him that were't over his twitch stream over a friendly text here or there to congratulate him on his race results.

you glanced behind you as you walked down the paddock, spotting your old friend as he became surrounded by fans and people who wanted to take a photo or grab an autograph. he entertained them all, of course, that's who he was. but he kept glancing your way in the process.

there it was again. that shy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. you smiled back, but you weren't even sure if he caught it with how many people were trying to get his attention.

feeling pierre kiss the side of your head, you turned and looked up at him.

"you okay?" pierre asked, feeling the tension in your shoulders

you nodded because you were okay, but that was it. just okay. you had been just okay for a while now. you were happy with pierre, there was no mistaking that but something was missing, something that prevented you from feeling more than okay on a regular basis.

but you didn't want to let yourself think that maybe lando's absence was the reason for it.

[muniimyg]

tahana // paraluman jk + oc extra

series m.list

taglist: @kakixaku @boraength @4ksj @pamzn @jinsearth @fancycollectormoon @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @fan-ati--c @kthlvr30 @ellesalazar @taeees-world @sukunasrealgf @firesighgirl @jeonninja @bloopkook @butterymin @pinkseokchim @joonsjuice

wanring: character death !!! talks of grieving, breaking up & just sad vibes

note: ok i promised myself that i would never touch paraluman ever again after completing it... but i couldn't help myself with this little blurb.... it lingered a minute too long for me to jus sit still and not write it out </3 enj my wuvs !!

context: this takes place shortly after oc's grandmother passes away. jungkook and oc are slowly mending their friendship and getting close again !!! oc is dating yoongi (at this time but it's nearing the end of their relationship)

Jungkook pats your back as you hunch over the sink. You gag every so often and with each nauseous breath in; he pulls your hair back tighter with his hands. Clearing your face from the loose strands, Jungkook can't help but wonder how much more you have in your tiny body left to throw up. Suddenly, a trio of friends bursts through the washroom doors. Their laughing is put on pause the moment they stumble in and see a very irritated look on Jungkook's face.

"Occupied."

They all share a look with one another and shoot him a dirty look. One girl groans at his stern tone and comes forward. Rolling her eyes at him, she complains; "If you two are trying to fuck in here, get out! This is a fucking public washroom—"

"And it’s fucking occupied.”

The girls all gasp at Jungkook's words. Another girl crosses her arms and speaks out. "You're a dick, you know? Like, are you serious? You can't even ask us nicely to leave—"

"I wasn't asking."

Jungkook lowers his gaze at them. Tension quickly begins to build and before they could make a bigger fuss, Yoongi squeezes himself through.

"Ladies, the washroom downstairs is free. I'll buy you all a shot if you just go and leave them be..." Yoongi bargains. The trio are easily persuaded. Partly because they're too tipsy to continue their fight and partly because a free shot is a fucking free shot. They accept Yoongi's offer, break into giggles, and stick their tongues out at Jungkook. One flips him off right before they turn their heels and head downstairs.

Once they're out of sight, Yoongi closes the door for more privacy. He turns the lock and leans against the door. "You should've locked it," he sighs. "... Is she okay?"

Yoongi then bends down to take a closer look at you. You look a little messy but nothing extensive.

Just drunk.

You were just really drunk.

Jungkook shakes his head, feeling unexpectedly panicked. Perhaps it's because of Yoongi's aura. There is something about him that simply makes Jungkook relax. Even though they've only known each other for a short while, Yoongi is the definition of comfort. Meeting him and getting to know him is the easiest thing Jungkook has ever done for you. He understands why you love Yoongi so much and honestly doesn't feel competitive with him around. It's like he knows you're safe with Yoongi and with that so is he.

“Yoongi, I've never seen her drink this much. I shouldn't have let her drink this fucking much—"

“… Are you kidding me?” Yoongi groans in disbelief. In moments like these, he applauds Jungkook’s devotion to you but also finds it a little sad. “It’s not your fault.. This,” he gestures at your state, “… is not your fault. ___’s grandma just passed away... Of course, she'd be drinking this much! Regardless if you let her or not; she's going to do what she wants. You get that, right?”

Truth be told…

No.

Jungkook doesn’t get it. In his head, you’re still that child that needs him. Him here with you.. Unable to make you feel better makes him feel so fucking useless.

So, Jungkook stays silent.

He still can't help but feel disappointed in himself for not watching out for you better. He sulks in his self resentment.

"I don't know what to do.” Jungkook confides in Yoongi. “Maybe it’s because I haven't been with her in so long but this just feels like karma in some sick way..”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know anymore.. It’s just—what… What if too much has changed between us and I'm not good enough for her anymore? I’ve never had to be there for her in this sense.. The grieving and the coping—“

Yoongi chuckles, "You have and will always be good enough for her. God, you're a lot more insecure than I could have ever imagined you to be..."

Jungkook huffs.

“It’s just life. She’ll grow through what she goes through. As long as you stay by her side; it’s enough.”

With that, Yoongi presses a kiss on your cheek before excusing himself. He whispers, "My love, I'll be back. You're in good hands."

"Whose hands?"

"Jungkook is right here.”

Weakly, you lift your head. “Really? He’s back?”

Yoongi smiles at you. “Back? Awh, come on. He’d never leave you.”

"Yes, he would!"

Yoongi rolls his eyes at you. “Well, he’s here now. You can fight him while I’m gone. Okay?"

You nod slowly, eyes closed but ever so understanding. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows. “___, are you still drunk?”

“Okay," you sing. "okay, okay.. Okay!"

Yoongi snorts and pats your head. He gets up and places his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m okay," Jungkook breathes. "... I think. Maybe just call us an Uber and we'll be down in like... Fifteen? She's still throwing up a bit."

Yoongi nods. “Okay.”

Abruptly, you giggle, “okaaaayyy!”

The two boys exchange funny looks. Silently, they find you cute. Yoongi then leaves to go downstairs, pay for the trio's shots, and to grab your bag and jackets. He'll order the Uber in fifteen, just as Jungkook suggested.

Meanwhile, you throw up once more. After you do so, you compose yourself. You attempt to catch your breath and fix your posture.

"You need water. Can you walk? Let's go downstairs and Yoongi can get you some water." Jungkook helps you stand still. You hold your stance for two seconds before collapsing on him.

With your face buried in his chest, you take in his scent. He smells like how he always has. It smells like childhood to you.

"I missed you," you murmur. "You ditched me for this life, right? What's so good about it? I feel like shit right now."

He laughs in response.

You pout.

“You're weak shit," Jungkook teases you. "You can't handle the shit you down.. And I didn't ditch you."

Jungkook then pulls you up to stand better. He reaches over and turns the tap on. Cupping his hands, he lets the water fill up and brings it to your face. Gently, he cleans your face up. He takes the hem of his shirt and wipes the access water off.

"You ditched me."

"No, I didn't,” he insists. “Bhie, I invited you to every club, party, and event. You never wanted to come. You started dating Yoongi and then—"

"And then grandma died."

"Bhie…”

You bite the inside of your cheeks. “You know, Yoongi is leaving for his music career too… Does that mean he's going to break up with me soon? Fuck.." You purse your lips. “I hate my life.”

"Don't manifest bullshit like that," Jungkook chuckles. "He loves you. He wouldn't leave you."

"Y-yeah... And even if he does leave me—"

"—Which he won't—“

"At least he won't be dead, right?" you attempt to humour your pain. You smile for a millisecond before feeling the ache take away your momentary cope.

Silence falls between you two.

"... She's really gone, Jungkook." You can’t hold yourself back. The most you can do now is hope your voice doesn't break and you can get these words out. “I have nobody, you know? She promised me she'd stay but she didn't. She's gone and now you're back so y-you have to promise me that you'll stay, okay?"

You grab a fist full of the collar of his shirt. Looking deep into his eyes as yours water in pure hurt and grief, you plead. "Promise me you'll stay by my side."

"My you, I promise," Jungkook says. He takes his hand and covers your fist with it. He moves it to his heart and offers you a smile. "I won't leave you. If anything, I'll let you leave first. I'd rather watch you walk away than leave you.”

Your breath hitches at his words. You feel a lump in your throat and your heart begins to beat faster and faster. Before you can stop yourself, a small sob escapes your lips. Then, it's followed by a deep breath that fails to give you any relief. You rush to cover your face with your hands and let yourself begin to sob.

Jungkook embraces you. You cry harder and harder, suddenly feeling the weight of the world.

You're exhausted.

You're drunk.

You're just really drunk.

And in the midst of your drunken cries, the faint smell of childhood, and the mere idea of his promise being kept, you think to yourself; this is home.

In Jungkook you find rest. You find parts of yourself you thought you had lost. In him, you feel so much comfort and familiarity. It’s almost like a nostalgic haze you get lost in.

That’s when you decide that he’s your home. From here on out, this is where you stay.

I love him.

I love him one.

I love him too.

I love him three times more than I have ever before.

One I love you for the past. A second for the present and a third for the future.

How could you ever leave his side? How could you ever let him leave you again? Life and its trials will come and go... But him?

He has to stay.

He promised to.

Besides, if it's not him, it's not anybody.

[oh-soo-diabolik]

Hello again! So I wanted to ask beforehand because I wanted to request a certain pathetic... Attention starved depresso of a vampire Ritcher. This is a nonromantic ask btw.

Imagine if, while in the early stages of being obsessed with Cordelia and still had a way out (hard to believe, I know but IMAGINE) he was attacked ked by a small group of vampire hunters from a church. Goes to the church, wrecks havoc and while doing so finds a little boy primary school age nonverbal in the basement. When he checks it out, all the other church members were killed and the child is dirty, wearing what amounts to a potato sack.

He quickly reduces the child was abused and neglected and this stunted the child's growth with 🌟religious trauma🌟

Ultimately he takes the bab in and raises him, practically spoiling the child in what ways he wasn't and his brother was. When the child sees that Cordelia's a bitch, Ritcher eventually drops her because she's toxic and caught her abusing his adopted child the way she does Ayato.

Basically I'm asking for soft head canons or short little blurb of Ritcher being a good dad and learning that "omg love can be precious."

Father Figure!Richter

A/N: I rushed this because I didn’t want to keep you waiting 😭 but i will definitely write more content for him 🩵

Remember guys my inbox is open! 🥹🩵

His eyes watch as she dances with her beloved husband.

Richter hated his brother, the good for nothing man he called his brother, KarlHeinz.

“My dear husband, you’re the one who completes me.” she mutters to KarlHeinz. Richter sucks his teeth in response, consumed by the feeling of jealousy.

He stalks towards the entrance of the manor and exists.

The cold bitter air greets him, he needed space, he couldn’t bear facing the bewitched woman named Cordelia, and her wish-washy ways. She didn’t care for him, per se, she just wanted fun.

There he begins his journey into the forest, he continues to walk before approaching a large church, there it stands with pride and beauty, taunting him with their ill faith in a man who doesn’t exist. But what did humans know anyway?

The sound of a child whimpers catches his attention. He teleports to the source of the cause, appearing in front of a boy no older than the age of seven or eight years old.

He was skinny, and frail, his hair was unkept, and he stinks. As if he was left for dead, the older vampire peers down to the boys level.

“What happened?” Richter questions, he waits for the boy’s response but to no avail. “Speak child.” he says more firmly.

“They told me to be a good boy, t-they said it’s what God wants.” he finally replies, Richter’s ruby colored eyes stares down at the boy.

As if he almost felt guilty?

“Get up, come with me, child.” He orders, he watches as the boy struggles to stand, but nothing surprised him more than what he did next. The sudden feeling of the boy holding his shirt for support, catches him at bay. His cold being felt something he hasn’t felt before, he felt responsible. Responsibility of caring for this child.

“Shall I carry you?” He questions, the sounds of men shouting and yelling causes him to turn to face them.

“Step away from the child, Vampire.” An old man snares, gripping the stake at hand.

Truth be told, Richter was tired, tired of dealing with selfish people, first the damned woman Cordelia and then his brother and now these lowlife vampire hunters.

“Your stakes have no effect on me, I will take my leave and I will be taking the child with me.” he replies, as he picks up the child and vanishes.

“Dammit! That fucking bastard took him.” another man says.

“After him, you fucking idiots.” another man shouts, the men grunt in response as they start on their journey into the world of the unknown.

The boy grips Richter’s shirt, “Worry less, you shall be safe with me.” He mutters the boy could only nod in response.

Richter knew, from this day, he would risk his life to ensure that child was safe. Even if it meant killing His own blood and the townspeople, along with that damned woman.

He finally felt a purpose, protect the unprotected. Even if it meant losing his life.

[sapphic-scylla]

Short update to Sera’s story this season, but nonetheless, a fun little blurb to write. Enjoy! @ebevkisk

Depths of Sorrow

“No, I WILL NOT allow it. She will not spit her lies in our ears again.”

Saint-14 stormed out of the room. As Zavala, Saladin, and Sloane all departed, Sera took that to mean the meeting was over. Sera let Piper drift to her hand and transmatted them back to their apartment. Sera lived a few miles out from the wall in a complex in the Botza District. The area had recently reopened to the public and, since Sera had established herself as not only the Queen’s Mercy, but also as a deep personal friend to the Eliksni, it seemed only fitting that she lived mere blocks away from the Eliksni sector of the Last City.

Her brain was swimming and not because she’d spent the last few months in Titan’s methane seas, but Ahsa had spilled the news that perhaps the only saving grace to contend against the Final Shape was the resurrection of Savathûn, the Witch Queen.

Sera was an adept sifter of lies, but even still, it was hard to read a creature who had made her entire existence about being the universe’s greatest mystery. Savathûn had put Osiris in a coma and shredded Sagira. As well meaning as she may have been, Savathûn was still very dangerous.

Sera tossed her satchel to the floor and flopped onto the bed. She pulled up the sleeve on her arm to reveal the Hive rune that had been carved into her flesh several years ago and watched it faintly glow green just as it had ever since. Ice crawled across her fingertips as her emotions flared in upset distaste and confusion.

“The world does not hesitate to drop us further just as we seek to climb.” A voice said in the darkness.

Completely unsurprised, Sera gave a heavy sigh. “You know, Eris, you could just send a message.”

Sera could hear a faint smile. “And what would be the fun in that? Though, fun is not exactly the word that comes to mind when Savathûn’s fingertips come clawing at our brains once again.”

Sera sat up. “I figured you would be the first they called. What do you make of this? You’re one of the few that are aware of my predicament as well as this risk we have to take, what with us having to rely once again on the Witch Queen to keep us afloat?”

Eris gave a disapproving sneer. “Germaine and I have given much thought to this. We must have a knife to her throat at all times. We cannot afford any more missteps as far as the hive are concerned. Not only that, but now that Xivu Arath has begun making more bold moves, that Wicked Implement you carry bodes ill for our good favor.”

Sera looked over at the scout rifle that sat in the corner. Her hive rune had flared as she touched the weapon the first time.

“She would not have marked you for no reason, guardian. Savathûn does not make uncalculated decisions. Especially not in the realm of labeling the most prolific Ice Mage in the Vanguard who has been a thorn in her side since she woke up. Keep a trained eye out. You, me, and Germaine must remain vigilant. She will play our game this time.”

Sera gave Eris a hug. “I trust you. I don’t know how this will play out, but I can’t help feeling we have an advantage this time. She’s a snake, but even snakes can be trained.”

Eris gave a malevolent cackle. “You speak truths. Now, I must take my leave. Surely, Zavala will want to hear my opinions on this development. Remember, guardian. Knife to her throat.” And with that, she vanished.

Sera watched the empty space for a second as she felt the chilling power of Stasis swirl around her fingertips once more. Frost and crystals ran up her arm as she felt her anger well up once more.

She didn’t like it, but the Witch Queen was their only shot. However, she had felt the chill of death once and Seraphina would not hesitate to make her feel it again.

[freefromfearforever]

Stay...

There's going to be days when you just don't want to be here anymore. You just STAY. You fucking stay. Somewhere out there, somebody needs your voice. I promise. I swear to God, your laughter is someone's saving grace. Hold on tight, baby. The sun is coming for you.' Eric Van Vuren.

Sipping coffee this morning, enjoying the cool rain-kissed air flowing through my windows, I came across this quote while clearing out old downloads.....there have been times I needed to read this short blurb, reminding myself of my worth.

The lie that creeps across the landscape of our minds, filling every crack and crevice with filth is that we are alone and worse...unnecessary...unneeded...forgotten...

Spending time with those who see you, value you...love you for who you are in each moment, in each season, tethers you to the here and now. Taking time with the ones who give you the space to be YOU, who create a safe place within their circle...within their hearts and minds, keeps your head above water...unknowingly holding you, reminding you of who you are to them...and it is enough.

For every dark thought that springs forth in the messy folds of your brain...that whispers in your ear that you are unworthy...a fraud...useless and no longer needed......for every one of these barriers and roadblocks to living life to the fullest, that loved one showcases a million little reasons to stay...to just fucking stay...to smile despite the tears, to find joy in the face of overwhelming sorrow, to laugh in delight and dispel the darkness that shrouds the heart, the mind, the spirit....

I struggle to find words to describe my thankfulness and gratitude for the unconditional love expressed, shown and walked out in truth from these few genuine souls.

This dear friends is what saves....this is what will enable the trauma laden hearts to step out on the path of life instead of off the path, into despair. No matter how long, how far...no matter how many times they choose to go back to that cesspool of lies....reflect on the times on your own path you were shown patience, kindness and long-suffering and extend those same virtues to someone in need.

Those killing words of 'your triggers are not my problem,' are harbingers of death, of cold hearts and colder emotions. If not our problem, then whose?

'If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a ringing gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have absolute faith so as to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.…' 1 Corinthians 13

If I speak to a friend, a stranger, a co-worker and something I say has the affect, the ability to hurt, to trigger a memory of harsh and horrific times...it is with a sense of responsibility and love that I would seek forgiveness and a change in behaviour to avoid causing pain.

And so I encourage you dear hearts to extend kindness, to extend compassion and love to all we come in contact with for it costs us nothing but personal growth and is it not our aim to grow in character as we live this short life? It is gone in the blink of an eye....

Stay dear hearts....stay....you may not know how much you matter to someone, how much you are loved...how much your smile lights the room and the hearts of those around you.

Wherever you are, whether surviving day to day in the nightmare or away and living each day in search of your purpose here on this earth....you matter...you are important...you are loved....

That far away glimmer of light you see is the promise of new beginnings...of fresh life full of joy and laughter....meant for YOU and only you...God has a purpose just for you....He walks with you; swims with you in the darkest of depths, climbs that massively formed mega-mountain with you...carrying you in your weakest moments, cradling you close and whispering His unending love for you, His delight in you.

Do not give up dear broken and lost...for while we may feel lost and too broken and damaged to be any good, the very opposite is truth that resides within you, if only you look hard enough. There is life, there is bountiful life waiting for you just round that next bend, round that next hill....steadfast and brave is who you are....plot your course and hold fast and true. You've got this...inch by inch, foot by foot....moment by moment you move forward to a newness and fullness of life, to healing and love for the woman (man) you were created to be. You, my dear hurting hearts, are worthy of all that is good and lovely....

I pray for your walk, for your unique path up and out of the wilderness...

I pray for extraordinary strength in the face of the enemy that would seek to destroy, to debilitate, to bring death to your dreams....

I pray for wisdom and clarity when confusion comes in like a black cloud...

I pray for the grace to accept that which you cannot change...

Go with God today and know your worth dear friends. Walk tall, walk proud, walk with confidence knowing you are not alone, never alone and loved beyond measure.

Loved....wanted...necessary...needed.... always.