#'maybe not like i dreamed. maybe not like you remember. but we could get by.' perfection. no notes.

[bisexualiteaa]

could you write something where cooper is talking the reader through it, but like, super sweetly and lovesick?

Talk Me Through It, Baby

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!! And some domestic fluff)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Established relationship, lingerie, flirting, cursing, reader being all enticing, 🤭 p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, domestic Cooper, irradiated cream pie, fingering, oral, (fem receiving) praise, Cooper talking you through sex and making love to you, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from TV series

AN: the creative juices are flowing people! I’m loving it, thank you all to have given me asks, it has been so much fun getting to write stuff for you guys! I think i may be done posting for today and have a busy rest of the week ahead of me but keep a look out within the coming weeks for those whose asks I have not done yet! I haven’t forgotten you lovelies, I promise ❤️ hope I did your ask justice, Anon! Enjoy some smut and domestic fluff! 🥰🤠

It’s days like these that made you remember just how nice it was to live a domestic life back in the day. No worries of murderers at your doorstep, no worries about food supply running too low, radiation sickness, it was just perfect. You could bake, you could cook whatever you could get your hands on, but the best part? Was when Cooper walked through that door after a long day to see the beautiful smile that would light up your face when you would greet him. You’d come up to him, greet him with a “welcome home, honey!” Followed by a sweet, soft kiss as his hands would fall to your hips once he’d make it through the door of your home in the settlement. You wished it could be like old times, but this was the closest to that that you’d gotten and you were proud of it. You had a nice home that almost was completely patched of all holes, working appliances thanks to the electricity you got going, clean water, food and some furniture to really spruce things up.

It was the activities that transpired after dinner however that left you both the most excited for when we would be home. You smiled cheekily as you returned from the bathroom, sitting against the doorway clad in a nightgown that you had made for yourself from collected fabrics. It was soft and silky, yet slightly see through, adorned by lace cups and lace around the bottom as it flowed out yet also hugged your frame. One where it left very little to the imagination of what lay underneath. “What do you think?” You asked excitedly yet with a sensual calm tone, making Cooper look up at you with a grin. He whistled as his eyes roamed your figure, loving the way it hugged your curves just right and let your pert nipples poke through the lace. “What do I think?” He asked, standing up and walking towards you, meeting you half way as you sauntered into the room. “I think you look like a dream come true, sweet pea” he said, his hands coming to rest on your hips as yours looped around his neck with a smile. “You like it? I made it myself” You asked, knowing by the tent in his briefs and the smirk on his lips that that answer was obvious. “Oh I love it” he said genuinely, trailing his hands along the smooth, silky fabric as he looked down at you with a soft smile before pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed contentedly into it, removing his hat from his head and placing it on your own with a chuckle into the kiss. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were propositionin’ me, little lady” he said, making you grin up at him with that half lidded look of mischief and love in your eyes that he just couldn’t get enough of. “Maybe I am” you answered as your eyes flitted between his and his lips, your hands coming to rest against his chest softly, just enough touch to tease, yet enough to make him chase after you for more. “Then let’s take it for a spin, hmm?” He asked, making you giggle softly before a light gasp left your lips as he leaned down, planting sweet kisses to your neck, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your arms held him tighter, pressing your chest against his as his teeth found all your weak spots, being sure to exploit them to work you up even further and hear those beautiful sounds he loves so much. “Cooper…” you sighed, your head falling back at the feeling of his rough hands running along your body, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. Between kneading the pleasantly soft flesh of your ass, to fondling your breasts, he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always look so pretty for me, sugar” he said, making you smile at his heartfelt compliment as he worked at the straps of your hand-tailored nightgown. “I always do my best for you” you replied, making him chuckle. “Don’t need to, you’re perfect as is” he responded, watching as it fell off of you with ease, the fabric pooling at your feet as he kissed you. He felt your hands smooth over his shirt as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the gin and sweet cherries you had with dinner, making him groan. You always tasted so damn sweet, so addictive. Sugar-Bombs be damned, you were 100% of his daily value of sugar and he wouldn’t want it any other way. When he noticed you had nothing on underneath, he couldn’t help but grin. “Look at you, you’re just so damn gorgeous, what’d a bastard like me ever do to get so lucky?” he complimented, making you smile giddily at his continued compliments. “By being you, Mr. Cooper Howard. Wouldn’t want you any other way” you replied, making him give something between a groan and a chuckle as your lips came to his neck. “The bed looks awful empty, what’dya say we change that?” You asked, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed as he chuckled. “I like the way you think, sugar” he replied, watching as you sat down on the bed before him, looking to him expectantly. “C’mon don’t be shy now, tell me what you want” he said, but rather than speak your mind, your hands spoke for you, finding their way to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up to where he’d take it off. He chuckled. “How ‘bout these? Want these off too, sweet pea?” He asked with a grin, knowing the answer before you even shook your head yes to confirm it. “Go on, take ‘em off for me. I know you like it more when I let you do it” he said softly, bringing your dainty small hands to his belt buckle, watching and helping you undo it and the button to his pants before taking a hold of his zipper with your teeth, and bringing it down. He groaned watching you toy with him, his fingers gliding through your hair, scratching your scalp before moving down to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “Eyes up here, darlin’” he teased, a grin on his lips as your pretty little doe eyes squinted with your smile, completely love drunk. He watched as you placed your fingers to his hips, helping pull down his pants and briefs as you looked him in the eyes the entire time. “Good girl, so good at it you ain’t even gotta look” he said, making you bite your lip and giggle as excitement was nearly tearing you apart, but you were being good. Patience was key, he loved drawing things out with you to where you were left absolutely crazy for each other.

“Sit your pretty self back some, let me have my dessert” he said, making a pleasant tingle flow through you straight to your throbbing clit. You did as you were told, scooting back a little and resting back on your hands as you spread your legs for him. “There ya go, nice ‘n wide for me, perfect. Look at you, so pretty for me. ‘f I had film in that old camera I’d snap a picture just to keep around of this sight” he said, making you grin up at him, the look in your eyes full of need as he got down on his knees at the edge of the bed. His lips trailed searing hot kisses up along the insides of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most before placing the most feathered light kiss to your clit. Your hips bucked up involuntarily out of need and anticipation, a moan leaving you before you whined as he lavished the other thigh with kisses. He gave an amused chuckle. “Patience sweetheart, you’re doin’ so good for me. I promise it’ll pay off” he said, trailing back up to your soaking cunt where he’d placed soft, searing kisses to your clit, making your eyes flutter shut once more and your head drop back with a moan. He groaned at your taste, at the way one of your hands rested on his bald head to tell him how good he made you feel. He looked up at you as he let his tongue lull out, running it up your slit to your clit, flicking the tip of it against your sensitive nub. You keened at the sensation, your chest rising and falling drastically with the harsh inhales and exhales of your pants and moans, a small smile turned the corners of your lips as your eyes were shut. “Cooper…” you moaned, and it was music to his ruined ears. “Taste so good sugar, I swear it’s like you’re made of it” he said, placing a playful bite to the inside of one of your gummy thighs, earning a louder, surprised yet pleased moan in response. “Fuck…” you panted, making him chuckle as one of his fingers prodded your entrance, sliding in all the way to the knuckle as his tongue flicked against your clit in a rhythm that had you bucking your hips to meet his mouth. “Feels s’ good, please..” you begged, feeling him curl his finger inside of you to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves. He was going to be the death of you one of these days, you swore it, he was too damn good at this. He watched as you looked down at him, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him eating you like a man starved. He gave a wink at you as your gazes met, smirking into you as he felt you get closer and closer. “That’s the spot, ain’t it sugar? That’s it, doin’ so good for me, I know you’re close. Let go for me honey, I’ve gotchya” he said, keeping that delicious pace with his tongue and fingers rubbing that spot inside, it didn’t take long for you to do just as he asked. With a moan you came on his fingers and his tongue, a low, feral groan leaving his throat and rumbling his chest as you did. “Good girl” he praised, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers. his mouth and chin shining with your slick and his spit. He used his fingers to wipe it off, looking you in the eyes as he sucked on his fingers to remove it, groaning at the taste as he licked his lips clean.

He climbed up on the bed over top of you, leaning down to kiss you which you graciously accepted, unbothered by the taste of you on his lips and tongue. “Ready sweetheart?” He asked, making you shake your head yes at him, enjoying how desperate you were for him. He leaned back to rub his tip through your slit, collecting your slick and mingling with the pre-cum that beaded out from it. “Don’t tease, Coop..” you begged, making him chuckle. “I know, I know, just makin’ sure I don’t hurt ya” he said, before easing his way into your tight cunt. Didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, the stretch always burned at first but subsided into nothing but absolute bliss. “Doin’ so good for me, doin’ okay sweetheart?” He asked once he was fully sheathed inside you, waiting for you to tell him when to move and making sure you weren’t in pain. You looked up at him, that smile that he swore was the brightest thing in the universe eased all his worries. “I’m good, Coop. You can move whenever you’re ready” you said, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you again, starting a soft, slower pace. He didn’t want to fuck you tonight, didn’t want to have sex with you, no. He wanted to make love to you, show you how much he loves you, show you how much he worships the ground you walk on. He wanted to give you everything you ever wanted and more just to see that pretty little smile in return, it’s all he ever asked for. You both moaned into your shared kiss, his one hand holding yours by your head, fingers intertwined with each other as the other rested on your hip. Your free hand roamed along his scarred back, your head tipping back as his thrusts were deep and calculated. You shut your eyes as his lips roamed your neck, once again abusing the sensitive skin to hear your voice sing for him. “Feel so good honey, like you were made for me” he said, making you hum at the thought, you certainly liked to think so. “Maybe I- hah~ was” you said between moans, making him chuckle dryly. “Maybe you were” he said, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, his tongue laving over one of your nipples as his other hand toyed with the other between his thumb and finger. You moaned as your head fell back against the pillows, hair fanning around your head like a halo. You were ethereal, he swore it. His perfect little angel to keep him out of too much trouble, but just naughty enough to keep him on his toes.

“I love you so much, darlin’. Love everything you do for me” he said, making you smile warmly. “I love you too Cooper, and everything you do to- I mean *for* me” you said playfully, making him laugh at your witty joke, feeling the way your gummy walls hugged him tight, fluttering around his cock as he kept a good steady pace. “Felt you tighten around me, go ‘head, let go for me baby. I’m here” he said, bringing his thumb down to rub tight circles against your clit, leaving your back arching off the mattress and a wide O shaping your lips. “Fuck…Cooper, cum with me, please…inside” you said, making him groan into your neck as he buried his face there. “Anything for you sweet pea” he replied, moaning into your shoulder as you held onto him for dear life, knowing your orgasm would hit you hard. And that it did. You saw white stars flash in your vision, as your body arched up from the mattress once more, pressing yourself to him as your walls clamped down around him, milking him of everything he had to offer you as he painted your walls white. You panted as you rode out your highs, his lips coming to yours for a sweet, gentle kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

As you both lay there, basking in the after glow, he couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked teasingly, making him chuckle. “Just that I found the love of my life” he said, so casually as if it were common knowledge, making you give him that beaming smile he loved so much. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing the irradiated skin with your thumb as you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his once more. “Good, because I’ve been lookin’ at mine for a few months now, wondering when you’d finally admit it” you said, making him laugh along with you as he pulled out, got you both cleaned up and hooked you up to some RadAway. “Maybe I’ll go down to the market and getchya that ring you were eyein’ last time we went” he said, making you look at him astonished. “Oh Cooper, you ain’t gotta do that! You know how many caps that’ll run you?” You asked, making him laugh. “Does it look like I care? Besides, if it’s that ridiculously expensive, no one ever said anythin’ about spendin’ the caps if the person sellin’ it ended up missin’ somehow” he said with a grin, making you grin as you kissed him, only he could make murder look so good.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #asks

[eff4freddie]

Touch | Part Five

You struggle to re-establish a purpose in Jackson. But the Miller brothers will always keep you on your toes.

Words: 5.2k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: smutty smut smut, oral (m receiving), kind of subby Joel maybe?, like shades of subby, whimpers and groans, carpentry

Minors DNI

You envied people who didn’t remember their dreams. Yours lingered with you, so much accumulated horror for your brain to draw upon. The crunching of dried-out fungus under boot. The squelch of blood running over clenched fist. The screams of your sister, reverberating with the screams of your dad, of your mum, of yourself. Formless and vacant of hope, a belligerent and unrelenting slideshow.

You woke with a start in your own bed, alone and trying to piece together how you got there. After Joel had taken care of you on the coffee table you had slumped towards him, head on his shoulder, and took in all the air your lungs could get. The exhaustion was overwhelming and you had felt yourself go limp in his arms, dimly aware of him lifting you, carrying you up the stairs. You’d had enough presence of mind to worry he was going to hurt his shoulder before he had you wrapped up in your blanket. You didn’t hear him leave.

You supposed you should be happy, but you had long started to suspect that it wasn’t really an emotion you were capable of. Even before outbreak day you’d had too much to worry about. You had already come to terms with the fact that happiness just wasn’t something your mind could do. Terror, though. That was your speciality.

At the bottom of the stairs, you peered through the front window at the rest of Jackson going about their day. Ordinarily, you would have been setting up for your first client, but you’d already cancelled them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into the treatment room, hadn’t been in there since your table collapsed. The excitement of Maria delivering, the thrill of being somewhat useful, had allowed you to forget for a second that your vocation, the one thing that had got you into Jackson and probably saved your life in the process, was over. Without the table you were limited to straddling grumpy men in your kitchen, and that was a whole different job.

You glanced in at the living room, eyeing the coffee table suspiciously. You were running out of safe rooms in your house.

—

You kept your eyes down at the mess hall, only glancing up once or twice to ensure that the coast was clear. You weren’t surprised to see that Ray wasn’t there, assuming that he was manning the radio with Simon trying to scout any danger for Marla and the crew. The expedition was expected to take several days, longer if the weather turned. There was no cause for alarm, no reason to assume anything was amiss. But you knew Ray, and that that wouldn’t stop him.

Halfway through your porridge a tray dropped onto the table in front of you, and you startled, snapping your head up. You felt your stomach flip, the rolled oats no longer sitting comfortably beside the acid and bile in your stomach.

‘Mind if I sit?’ Ellie asked, already settling into the chair. You shook your head, swallowing heavily.

‘No, course,’ you said.

‘You looked lonely, you always look lonely.’

‘You’re very observant,’ you said, not sure if this was truly a compliment.

‘We just got back to Jackson,’ Ellie said, undeterred.

‘So I hear.’

‘I think we’re staying for a while,’ she went on largely without you. Her eyes had drifted to the middle distance, and you could see that she was thinking.

‘And how do you feel about that?’ you prompted. Her gaze shifted back to you, and she shook her head as if the thoughts were clinging to her clothes.

‘I’ve seen you around,’ she said, and you got the feeling she was starting the conversation over again, to see if she could improve it a second time. You let her.

‘Yup,’ you said.

‘You touch people,’ she said simply, and you blinked, had no idea what to make of it.

‘Umm…’ you started, and she interrupted you.

‘Dina says it helps people feel good,’ Ellie continued, as did your concerns.

‘What exactly did she day I do?’ you desperately tried to clarify.

‘You rub people and they feel good.’

Nope. Not better.

‘Massage,’ you spat out abruptly, ‘it’s a kind of therapy, physical therapy…but not like, it’s not…it’s good for your muscles, for your spine.’

‘Right,’ Ellie said, as if this was obvious, and you were very relieved to have got that sorted out at least.

‘You massaged Joel,’ she went on, and you wondered how hard it would be to jam your butter knife into your eye socket and remove yourself from the conversation, if not the planet, completely. ‘He told me it helped. Well he didn’t tell me, but he was all angry and sore…more than normal…then Tommy made him see you and he was better after that. He was his normal grumpy self, not his sore grumpy self.’

‘I’m happy to have helped,’ you said. You had given up trying to predict where the conversation was going, and now you were just tagging along behind her.

‘You did help,’ she said, leaning forward on her chair, up on her elbows on the table. ‘I want to help, too.’

‘You…do?’

‘Yeah I thought I could…I thought I was going to but, it didn’t…’ She looked around the room, flustered, and dipped her head lower to murmur underneath the sounds of the other tables. ‘I thought that I could help people one way, but it didn’t work out, and I just want to see if there’s another…fuck it actually, this is stupid.’

‘No, it’s not stupid,’ you said, and you reached out to put your hand on her arm, but she pulled it back like you had burned her.

‘You probably think I’m too young,’ she said, rolling her eyes but also really seeming to mean it.

‘I was your age who I started learning,’ you said, and watched as her eyes lit up, finally rising back to meet yours.

‘You were?’ she asked, and you nodded, grinning at her.

‘I think so, yeah. I mean, how old are you, Ellie?’

Like a shot her smile dropped, and she slunk backwards and away from you, receding into the chair and appearing to you to deflate to half her size. ‘What, what did I…’ and then you realised, cursed yourself and your remaining three brain cells. She hadn’t told you her name.

‘Who’s been talking about me?’ she asked, so quietly you only just heard. You swallowed. You remembered what it was like to be a teenager, to be relentlessly comparing yourself to your peers, to the women in magazines and on tv, to be relentlessly self-conscious, to be convinced everyone is talking about you and also worse, that no one is.

‘I asked Maria who you both were who you arrived,’ you said, deciding it was safer to talk about Maria then it was to talk about Joel. ‘I saw how Tommy reacted to Joel, and to you, and I didn’t understand what was happening so I asked.’

Ellie nodded, considering this, and you could see she had already worked out that it wasn’t the whole truth, but you hoped it was enough truth that she didn’t disappear on you.

‘What did she say?’ she asked, and you thought very hard and very fast to think of a good answer. You would have preferred a minefield.

‘Just that you were Joel’s kind of adopted daughter and that you’d been out of town for a while…and that she was super happy to have you back.’ You prayed the last part would ring true in some way, that it would be enough to reassure her. ‘Maria cares about you a lot.’

‘Maria doesn’t know me,’ Ellie replied. I don’t trust that he’s not keeping her in the dark.

‘She doesn’t need to, she just cares anyway,’ you said, and you meant it.

A loud group of teenagers, slightly older than Ellie if you had to guess, pushed into the mess hall and you watched as she pulled away from you even further, taking up residence about three centimetres back from her own skin. Her eyes were hard, vacant. You had seen the same look on Joel, and you knew then that she was a quick learner.

‘Ellie-‘ you started, but she was pushing her chair back.

‘Never mind,’ she said over her shoulder as she hurried away.

—

The mood in the town shifted over the next few days. Neither Marla nor any of the other crew had radioed in since reaching the third checkpoint, and there had been heavy, low-hanging clouds threatening the mountains. You had wondered about going in to see Ray, but you weren’t sure what you could say that would be any consolation. You worried, perhaps unfairly but also perhaps not, that you would say the wrong thing, that in your haphazard if well-intentioned way you would lose him, too. Instead, you stayed away.

You also avoided Joel. You felt the urge to keep a respectful distance, to try and pretend like it had never happened, like you hadn’t grasped his shoulders and come harder than you had in literal decades. You weren’t sure if you remembered ever having felt the way he had made you feel in an embarrassingly short period of time, but also you weren’t sure what it meant, if anything. If this was just something that Joel did, how he kept himself busy at the end of the world. You didn’t want to be his distraction, and you didn’t want him to distract you, especially when you had so much to pointlessly worry about.  

You’d had boyfriends, one before outbreak day and two and a half in the years after. A lot of the time it was convenience, sometimes protection, but never passion. You’d read that during times of national crisis birth rates skyrocket and you’d never been able to understand why. Nothing about a brain-obliterating fungus was all that attractive to you. You wondered if what had happened with Joel was just about you finally feeling safe. If it was less Joel and more Jackson. You felt better about things, if that were true. You hoped it was.

You took the short walk to Maria’s, a tray of lasagne in your hands that you’d begged and borrowed at the mess to be able to make. There wasn’t any oregano or basil, so you just got generous with the salt and hoped for the best. You thought about your mum’s cooking, which wasn’t really all that great either. Her method was throwing Italian herb mix in to any pasta sauce in the hope that it would make it taste better than the sum of its parts. It rarely worked, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.

You stood on Maria’s porch, not sure if you should knock. You were worried about waking the baby, or waking Maria, or that the wrong Miller brother would be home. You worried that you wouldn’t be welcome, that you’d done too much at the birth, that you had overstepped in some way that you weren’t aware of but that would make it impossible for Maria to now be your friend.

Just as you were about to leave the lasagne on the front porch and make a break for it, the door swung open, and you were met with Tommy’s surprised face.

‘Umm, hi,’ you said, taking a step away from the doorstep without even noting. Tommy looked down at your hands, took the lasagne from you and put it gently on the console inside the door, then wrapped his arms tight around you and pushed all the air out of your lungs. You couldn’t even gasp in surprise.

‘You…’ he said, and he trailed off, and you felt the warmth and the comfort of his arms, and you suddenly thought you might cry. You pulled away, fast.

‘How are they?’ you asked, and Tommy beamed. Looking at him now, you realised he was absolutely exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.

‘Come see,’ he said, pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. You could hear humming, contented gurgling, and followed it into the lounge room. Maria was sitting up on the couch, son at her breast. She smiled when she saw you, and you looked down at the baby in her arms, and felt love physically enter your body.

‘Oh Maria,’ you whispered, and she grinned back at you.

‘I am so fucking tired,’ she stage-whispered, and you had to try hard not to laugh too loud. His little fist was balled up and resting on her chest, and you could see the tiny thumbnail, purple and deep red, and it was too small and too precious for the world around it.

‘I have to go…run an errand,’ Tommy said quietly from the doorway. ‘Will you two be OK?’

Maria waved him off.

‘I ran off the other night before I asked you his name,’ you said, coming to sit beside Maria so that she didn’t have to turn her head to talk to you. She leant into your shoulder, and it was peaceful and warm and the kind of thing you do with a good friend, and you wondered if she’d object to adopting you.

‘We were going to go with Joel Junior,’ she said, and you wrinkled your nose.

‘Too alliterative,’ you said, and she nodded.

‘Also still not convinced about him,’ she said, and you felt something shift in your belly.

‘He was good the other night, with Tommy.’

‘He saw a lot of me I never intended him to,’ Maria said, and your heart sank. Should you have got rid of him? He was there for Tommy, you realised, not Maria. Should you have objected, said something? Had Maria been trying to telepathically tell you to do something, and you missed it? ‘It’s OK,’ Maria said, sensing the way your body had tensed. ‘I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, in fairness.’

‘You were kind of busy,’ you agreed. You listened to the baby suckling quietly, little contented grunts coming from his throat. ‘So, it’s not Joel Junior,’ you prompted.

‘Robin,’ Maria said. ‘There are so many here in Spring, and I love their little songs.’

You reached a hand out to cup his head in your palm. ‘That’s perfect,’ you said. For a long moment you just watched him, the peace of him, so wrapped up and warm and safe in the arms of his mother. You ached for your own for a second, before you pushed the thought away, told yourself this wasn’t the time.

‘It feels different out there,’ Maria said. ‘I can even tell, and I haven’t left the house in days.’

‘Vibes aren’t great,’ you agreed.

‘Tommy’s worried, but he won’t tell me.’

‘The expedition is just taking longer than it should,’ you said. ‘If there was anything to tell I’m sure he would.’

Maria regarded you for a long moment, and you realised she wanted more answers, but you had none to give her.

‘He’s like Joel, like his big brother,’ Maria said eventually, and you felt heat up the back of your spine. ‘Protective,’ she added. ‘To the point of locking you out in the cold to save you from the monster under the bed.’

—

You kind of wished Maria would stop dropping truth bombs on you, then leave you to work through the rubble on your own. You walked the long way back to your place, down behind the hall and past the lake, just to see if you could push her words out of your body through your feet.

It meant that you arrived back on your front step just as the sun was setting, and you were surprised to see the lights in your house on. You were sure you wouldn’t have left them on in the daylight. You pushed the door open, trying to remember if you’d locked it. No one did in Jackson, but you liked to when you were going to bed, partly to believe that you could do anything that might prevent some kind of harm.

‘Hello?’ you called down your hallway, thereby alerting any potential attackers to your exact whereabouts. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Jackson had definitely made you soft.

There were no weapons in your entry way. You considered whether taking your boots off and throwing them would cause enough of a head injury to get away, but it would be harder in your socks. In Chicago you’d kept a baseball bat beside the door, and used it only once.

‘That you?’ you heard a voice call, and you paused. Were you ‘you’?

‘Maybe?’ you called back, and you heard two sets of laughs. One deep and huffy. You’d recognise it anywhere. Your feet moved all by themselves.

Joel and Tommy were standing in your treatment room. The broken table was gone, and in its place a brand new, clearly custom made, massage table stood. Thin enough so that you didn’t need to climb on top of it to rearrange the towels, and just the right shape to give a body a warm and safe place to rest.

Your hand flew to your mouth, and you felt tears pushing hot onto your cheeks. Tommy grinned at you while Joel watched, careful and reserved. You didn’t have words, could barely wrap your head around what you were seeing.

‘You helped so well with Maria, kept her going when anyone else would have quit,’ Tommy said, while you were trying hard to breathe. ‘You did so good, so we wanted to say thank you.’

You let out a gasping, gulping, tearful laugh, nodding your head at him. ‘That’s OK, you’re welcome,’ you said, but you were laughing and crying simultaneously, so it was hard to know if you’d made any sense.

‘It was Joel’s idea,’ Tommy said, smiling at his older brother, who promptly blushed and looked ready to murder him. ‘Come look,’ Tommy said, extending a hand towards you and pulling you by the arm further into the room.

The massage table had built-in padding under a leather cover, that was attached to the wood with studs along the edges. The leather had clearly been something else in a past life, the stitching haphazard and criss-crossing over the base, but you would cover it with towels anyway. You pushed a hand out and pressed down on it, finding it delightfully spongey, and soft. You wanted to lean down and put your nose to it, inhale the leather, the warm sunshine on swatches of yellow and green fields. Inhale a different life, an older one long passed.

‘And here, this is the headrest,’ Tommy said, continuing his tour. ‘It sits in its own little track carved in here, see? So you can remove it or slot it back into place. Maria said that’s what the proper tables used to have, so you could lie face down.’

You nodded, confirming that this was indeed true. You reached out and put your hands on it, let your fingers reach underneath to feel the joins in the wood. They were smooth, carefully crafted. You knew they were Joel’s, carried his strong but gentle touch, his precision, his care.

You gazed at him, completely blindsided by the craftmanship and the generosity. The moment hung in the air, the two of you watching each other. You wanted to tuck your head under his chin and cry into his chest, wanted to rip his shirt off him and shred it with your teeth so he could never wear anything ever again, wanted to hold his face in your hands and keep it, not let the moment pass, let your hands on his skin secure the warmth there, hold the look on his face, for eternity.

‘I should head back,’ Tommy said, and you pivoted immediately towards him and threw your arms around his neck. He laughed, wrapping his arms around you. ‘Now we’re square,’ he said, and you gurgled your acceptance.

After he left, you worried Joel would go, too. Worried that all of this had been obligation, had been at Tommy’s insistence, had been a way of winning Maria over. Worried at how badly you wanted him to stay, worried that it wasn’t just Jackson but that it was him, that it was always going to be him, and that right now every nerve ending was on fucking fire just because he was looking at you. You waited for him to grunt or nod at you and turn his back, but he stayed standing, his brows knitted together, one hand on his hip.

‘It’s beautiful,’ you said, because the tension was starting to mount now that Tommy had gone, and if he kept looking at you like that you were going to combust. Your voice wobbled, and you swallowed glue and razor blades to try and steady it. ‘Where did you get the leather?’

‘Found an old couch lying around, no bother,’ he said. His voice was low, like he thought you were going to run from the room, but in that moment you didn’t trust your legs. You nodded your head because words were failing you, but then suddenly you had too many of them, and they were all going to come out right now, all at once.

‘Its just that the massage table, I know it’s silly…but it was what I used to do before outbreak day, and it was kind of who I am or maybe I just think of it as that, but I just worry that if I don’t have anything to offer no one will keep me.’

Jackson. You’d meant to say you were worried they wouldn’t let you stay in Jackson. But that wasn’t at all what you’d said.

Joel took two steps forward, grabbing your face and rubbing at the tracks of tears on your cheek with one hand, the other snaking behind you to hold your back. You gasped, staring up into his brown eyes, the salt and pepper of his beard, the lower lip you wanted to nip with your teeth. You waited for him to say something, anything, but holding you was also enough. Under his patient gaze your breath slowed, you stopped feeling your heart thundering in your chest, felt your shoulders drop.

‘Joel…’ you whispered, and he was on you then, head dipping down to bite at the skin behind your ear, hand roaming over your hips to cup your bottom, grind you into him, where you felt him hard and heavy against your core.

‘Let me-‘ he started, but you stopped him, gripping him by the shoulder and pulling away.

‘No, let me,’ you said, suddenly bold under his wanting touch. ‘Table’s fixed now, so there’s no excuses.’

He cocked and eyebrow, blinking at you. ‘You want me on that?’

‘What’s the matter, don’t trust your craftmanship?’

‘Baby, a massage isn’t exactly what I-‘

‘Down to your boxers and face in the hole,’ you said, grabbing a towel from a nearby stack and putting it down on the leather.

‘You could at least help,’ he said, grumpy again, and you grinned happily at him.

‘I’ll step out and let you get ready,’ you said, in full-blown professional mode, just to fuck with him. He sighed, but he did as he was told, and you really fucking liked it, actually.

Once he was on the table you draped him, making sure he was comfortable. You rubbed your hands together to make them warm, then poured some cooking oil – the best substitute you’d found so far even if it did make the residents of Jackson smell like fried chicken – into your hands.

‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you warned, and Joel grunted. You were glad he was face down so you didn’t have to see the expression on his face.

You started with his left leg, draping the towel over his hip and tucking it between his thighs. Straight away you could feel the tension there, the tightness of the calf, the hamstring ready to snap. You ran your hands in a vee-shape, thumbs tucked one over the other, up the back of his leg, stopping just below his glute, which you briefly considered leaning over and sinking your teeth into.

Joel’s skin was soft, and unbelievably hot to the touch, and you had to try hard to focus on what your hands were doing so that you could ignore the little whimpers, the little gasps, as you found and massaged away a knot. You ran your hands up the outside of his thighs, felt the muscles jump and tremor under you, dug your fingers into his hip flexors and heard him exhale, an almost sigh, as they released.

You got into trouble when you got to his back. You were aware of the fact that you were soaking your panties, worried that he would smell your arousal, worried that if he kept making noises like that you were going to drown yourself. You worked hard to keep your breath steady, remembered your lessons and imagined dousing yourself in freezing cold water, jumping from your back porch into the frozen lake below Jackson, hoping that might give you some relief.

The wide planes of his skin were marred by scars, by shadows of pain and hurt and memory. He carried a scar, an old one, on his right side, a graze that looked like a bullet, that you decided to ignore. As you pushed hard along his spine he grunted, the muscle seizing under your touch, and you worked against it, kneading at them like dough, lifting the fascia and breaking it down, working the adhesions, until it was buttery and smooth. You focused on Joel’s breath, saw the way his chest expanded as he inhaled, felt the enormous man, so scary and so gruff, so mean and so soft on the inside, gradually give in to you. You felt him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders as you worked them, careful to release the deltoid, to ease off the trapezius now that you could finally get at it properly.

You were tempted to leave him there, relaxed for maybe the first time in years, but you roused him, rolled him onto his back, put a folded-up towel under his head and another over his eyes to protect them from the light. With his face covered you could take your inventory of him. The scar on his right side, jagged and angry and new, the reason he’d been favouring it finally clear to you. The soft smattering of chest hair leading down to a light trail on his pelvis. The towel covering him, but not enough to hide the fact that he was hard, that he had tried to tuck his cock into the waistband of his underwear but that it was too thick, too long to stay fully hidden.

You moved up to his head, to his salt and pepper hair, and carded your hands through it, lifting his head and holding it in your fingertips. You watched as his eyebrows knitted together again, unsure, but then releasing, his mouth dropping open, as you heard his breath, ragged, escaping through his teeth.

‘Let me take care of you, baby,’ you whispered to him, right above his ear, mimicking what he had said to you on the coffee table, what had made you instantly wet and aching. You gazed down his body at the way his cock jumped. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

You let your fingers dig in a little to his scalp, a quiet little moan escaping him, the covering over his eyes giving him a sense of privacy as you unravelled him. You wanted to lean down and suck his bottom lip into yours, wanted to climb on top of him and sink your pussy onto his Roman nose. Wanted to come on his face and his fingers, wanted him to splash his come onto your chest.

‘This body that protects us,’ you whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, on his cheek beneath the towel. Putting his head back down and moving to massage his left arm, lifting it by the wrist and rubbing your hands over his bicep and onto his chest. He glistened, the oil mixing with his sweat under the overhead light, and you couldn’t stop yourself, then, couldn’t help but to bend and place a kiss on his clavicle, licking up to nip at his neck. You felt him shiver, a soft whimper escaping with his breath. You moved your hand from his wrist to his palm, held his hand with yours.

‘This body that serves us all so well,’ you said. ‘Let me take care of this body.’

He gasped when you kissed his belly button, licking and nipping down his happy trail to where his cock was now straining hard against the towel. You pushed it away, taking his cock out of his underwear and pulling them down on his hips, so that you got your first proper look at him.

As you expected he was thick, the veins on the underside pulsing, straining against his want for you. The head was so red it was almost purple, and you wondered how long it had been since a woman touched him like this, since he’d been touched at all. His hand grasped yours, the other fisting the towel underneath him.

When you slipped him into your mouth, inviting him into you, he groaned, grunted obscenities flowing from him. His cock was hot on your tongue, salty as he dripped pre-come into your throat. You kept your eyes on his face, his still covered, as his stomach rippled and his body tremored underneath you. With your other hand you steadied him, reaching up and holding the shaft while you bobbed, sucking hard on the head. You took a second to breathe, leaving little kitten licks on his frenulum, feeling his free hand let go of the towel and grip you by the hair.

‘Fuck, baby’ he grunted, his hips thrusting, pumping up into the air.

‘So strong, Joel,’ you said, before reattaching your mouth to him. He threw his head back, and you considered the irony of him breaking the brand-new table he’d built just for you by coming so hard he splintered the wood beneath him. His body was quaking, his hips bucking up into your wet, warm mouth and it was everything you had dared imagine it would be, right down to his gasping encouragement, down to his needy little whimpers that turned into moans of outright pleasure, of the feeling hot and electric right down to his toes.

‘Jesus, you’re gonna make me…’ he gasped, and you looked up at him, the towel having fallen from his eyes and him staring down at you between his legs, his hand on the back of your neck gentle and guiding, supporting the muscles as you worked him. You kept your eyes on his and your mouth on his cock as he shook, hips rolling, rutting against your pumping hand.

You slipped him from your mouth. ‘Just let go, baby. I got you,’ you said, covering him again as he did just that, shooting ropes of hot salt and desire across your tongue, holding your hand, groaning at the relief of it, at the release, and in that moment you had him, in that moment he was yours, gasping for breath and so soft and languid, looking down his body at you in awe and in wanting, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.

Taglist:

@orcasoul

@archofimagine

@hiroikegawa

@littlemisspascal

@ilovejoel-andjavi

@giggly-otter

@harrysrosetatto

@Hjzghi-blog

@daddy-dins-girl

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller

[nori-the-cat]

can u do sungchan as a bf

Why is this so high in demand? Ladies and gents, are we collectively thirsty for him??? (Me too.) and yes, I'm doing this reading for us curious and thirsty ladies and gents.

RIIZE Jung Sungchan as Your Boyfriend

Was he okay with me doing this reading? Yes. But he was at first a little hesitant and ironically shy and pretty sweet.

Remember, this is just my interpretation based on the tarot spread. All of this are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. Take it with a grain of salt.

So, what is Sungchan like a boyfriend?

Cards: knight of cups, five of cups, the chariot, page of cups, the hierophant, seven of cups, ten of wands, the empress, three of wands, ace of wands, six of swords, the devil, and eight of pentacles.

I said he's sweet, right? He is actually a sweet guy. There are cup(s) cards in this reading. I often associate the cup(s) card with emotions and Sungchan is an emotional guy.

Is your type a man who is in tune with his emotions? Someone dominant and masculine? The kind of guy who takes the lead and initiates things? A reliable man? Well, Sungchan is a total keeper.

He seems like the kind of guy who really gets you, you know? Like, for example, he can tell when you're feeling down and will always be there to cheer you up or just listen if you need to vent.

He's aware of you and your surroundings. You won't have to worry about feeling neglected. He's most likely going to notice if you change your hair or make-up. The kind of boyfriend who is super supportive and sweet.

Imagine this scenario: You're having a tough day at work or university and feeling discouraged. You meet Sungchan for coffee and vent about your frustrations. He listens patiently, validates your feelings, and offers words of encouragement.

When things get rough, Sungchan's the kind of guy who totally gets it. He's there for you, no matter what. He would make you feel supported and safe in his arms (and biceps).

Not only that Sungchan seems like a super chill and supportive guy. He's a great listener, so you can vent about anything that's bugging you, and trust me, everyone needs that sometimes. Plus, he totally gets vibes, you know? Like, after a rough day, he'd be the first person to offer a giant hug and words of encouragement that make you feel ten times better. Sounds like a dream boyfriend, right? That's what Sungchan want to make you feel. He wants you to think he's the partner of your dream.

However, it's not easy to be with Sungchan. I also think he knows it's not easy for him either.

Sungchan wouldn't go into a relationship just because he's interested or finds the person attractive. In terms of love, he's not much of a risk-taker. He values tradition and commitment, and seeking other's opinions is important to him.

So, he might be the type to consider his parents' or friend's opinion before dating someone. I'm assuming he wants to be validated for the decision he makes. But it could also mean the person he dates is not just someone he loves and cares for. For Sungchan, his partner is a part of his life and someone he integrates into his daily routine. He wants them to be accepted in his surroundings or community.

I would say, being in a relationship is a pretty big deal for him. Regardless of the validation or not, he will most likely ask his closest ones about their opinion on his partner (you).

When Sungchan loves, he loves hard. Hence, valuing the opinion of others and not just his own is something he would do. Maybe he was raised that way? Is South Korean society influencing him? I don't know. But, for him, this leads to overthinking and indecisiveness as well as the tendency to people please.

In a relationship, this aspect of him would cause some friction. There could be miscommunications and arguments. Imagine you and Sungchan are planning a weekend getaway. You've both researched different destinations and activities, each with its own appeal. Sungchan might get overwhelmed by the options and have difficulty picking just one. He might spend a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of each location, even after you've discussed them together.

He is also overly responsible and takes on too much. I'm sure the fans know how many times his members have said he is the reliable one. So in a relationship, it is like he might be taking the burden when the relationship goes sour and causing him to be overwhelmed.

Personally, in a relationship, I find Sungchan to be a great guy, but sometimes he could go into overdrive. He might try to fix everything, which can be a bit much, you know? Also, he is a little bit of a perfectionist. He might want the relationship to feel and look perfect. But, no relationship is perfect? Well, tell that to Sungchan.

In another light, his perfection could translate to him feeling unsatisfied or often worried about the future. So, think about planning, like him planning a future together with you.

As a partner or significant other, he isn't just in it for a good time. He's looking for the real deal, someone to build a future with. We're talking relationship goals, not just Netflix and chill.

He's the 'I'm in a relationship to get married'. He is in it for the long run.

Despite preferring a long-term and serious relationship. Sungchan gets bored pretty easily. He needs the relationship to have some dynamic. He likes routines, but he much prefers to have some unexpected plan once in a while. Whether it's a morning road trip or going for mountain climbing, Sungchan needs excitement in his life. This is because he enjoys trying new things with his partner (you), keeping the spark alive and creating lasting memories. Basically, he wants to keep the relationship exciting.

Now, say, he's in a long-term relationship with you. Sungchan is all about being a good boyfriend. He's got your back no matter what, and your happiness is his number one priority. He is really about making the relationship feel good and look good, so making you happy is a part of his plan. Like, he wouldn't dream of ditching plans for guys' night if you needed a Netflix marathon and takeout.

Another side of him that I notice in this reading and around Shotaro is how clingy and somewhat possessive he is to the people he is close with. This side of him might be visible in a romantic relationship. Sungchan might get a liiittle jealous sometimes, you know? Like, maybe blowing up your phone when you're out with the girls or needing some reassurance every now and then. Nothing major, but just something to be aware of.

Sungchan's love language:

Sungchan's love language is most likely Acts of Service.

Being there for his partner: He's dependable and reliable, taking the initiative to cheer someone up or lend an ear.

Prioritizing his partner's happiness: This could involve things like cancelling plans to spend time together or planning exciting activities to keep the spark alive.

Taking responsibility: He takes on a lot and tries to "fix" things, demonstrating his commitment to the relationship's well-being.

Additional information:

Sungchan's energy is pretty overwhelming for me. I'm not going to lie that I feel a little intimidated. It's like he's trying to scare me away? I'm not scared, but intimidated? Defo. I had to take a break from doing this reading by distracting myself and doing other things.

I also think his intimidating face or cold-looking expression is a mask. He might be a super sensitive guy and uses the least unattractive expression to hide this side of him. He's also SUPER masculine. SUPER DOMINEERING too. His dominant energy was very much felt during the reading.

As the reading progresses, he gets more comfortable and that's when I realised it was okay to do this reading.

Also, him as a boyfriend reminds me of Taylor Swift's song Fearless and in particular the line "But you're just so cool. Run your hands through your hair." I'm pretty sure I've seen it somewhere. A picture or fan video of him running his hand through his hair and he looked hot. That's how I thought of Fearless as the song that matches his vibe as a boyfriend. The song Baby I'm Yours by Artic Monkeys also reminds me of him.

#kpop #riize #kpop tarot #riize tarot #riize sungchan #sungchan riize #nori tarot #riize x reader #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize fluff #jung sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan imagines #sungchan fluff #kpop reading #tarot reading #tarot

[gardenschedule]

Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia

“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””

Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.

Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.

Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)

Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’

Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)

“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.

The Q Interview, 2007

Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.

The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)

“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.

Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’

The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.

The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)

Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”

Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)

“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released—in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”

Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)

JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…

Sept 1980 – John

“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”

May Pang, Loving John (1984)

John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.

McCartney by Chris Sandford

But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.

Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #i wonder how much of their issues were due to john suspecting paul of things that just weren't true #then again maybe paul is secretly an evil mastermind #can't put it past him

[howi99]

"Didn't you hear? Didn't you know? Today's the day! The Queen will rise once more and the puppeteer may finally be reunited!"

"Those are rumors, a delusion. The knight of old lost his mind and kept chasing dreams and nightmares alike. Anything that could give him hope."

"Maybe they are but dreams, but isn't the ever after the land of magic and mystery? Where the impossible becomes the norms? We should have faith, faith in him, faith in his righteous mission to save his loved ones. Maybe after all these years of saving everyone but himself, someone else will be able to help him out?"

.

.

.

"Oh Jaune~" said the cat "It's time to meet your friends~"

" *sigh* And even after all those years stuck in my head, you keep being as annoying as ever." Jaune sits at his desk, looking at an old picture of himself and Penny hugging Alyx and Lewis with a bunch of paper pleaser all around them " It took far too long, but i finally fixed your mistake, Cat."

"Aw~, are you getting sentimental?"

" ... "

____________

J..ne?

Roman: Jaune!

The Puppeteer: Gah! *Falling down from his chair* What!? Can't you see i was sleeping!?

Roman: *roll his eyes* I don't really care about what you did, but your little girl is at the door. She's been very vocal for a muted girl.

The Puppeteer: *massaging the sleep out of his eyes* I'll go, i'll go. Gee, I don't remember raising her to be like this *sigh* i should really take a break and let my kids do the work for once... *Look at Roman* You can wait for me in the lab, it won't be long.

Roman: Fine. Oh, and you will need new ice cream, Neo took all of it.

The Puppeteer: I don't remember having... *Sigh* Elise will be pissed.

Roman: How many kid did you make?

The Puppeteer: A lot, why?

Roman: No wonder you fell asleep when you were alone.

#jaune arc #rwby #rwby au #jaune is a genius au #curious cat #roman torchwick

[q-gorgeous]

Wing-Bully

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 5267

No one knows au except dash baxter @xscarletsakurax

this is a rework of something that was gonna go write some other writing i did but then i split them into two different fics because the halves didnt vibe with each other kjhgvcf

hidey hey

“Dash, you’re here so we can work on our project for Lancer’s class. We’re not supposed to be down here.” 

“Come on, ghosts aren’t even real. How dangerous can it be down here?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Dangerous enough that we should really be wearing jumpsuits to protect us from ecto-contamination.”

He walked over to the closet that was down there and pulled out his jumpsuit while Dash laughed at him. 

“Matching outfits with your parents? Lame.”

“Don’t complain to me if you get ectoplasm poisoning then.” 

Danny pulled on his jumpsuit and groaned at the sticker on his chest. He pulled it off and tossed it away. 

“What’s this?” Dash pointed at the deep hole in the wall. Danny walked over to him.

“That’s my parent’s ghost portal. It didn’t end up working though.” 

Dash pushed him towards the portal. “Why don’t you go check it out?”

Danny frowned at him and tried to catch his footing. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I can’t-” 

“Haha, go in.”

“Dash, stopping pushing me-”

Danny tripped backwards over the threshold of the portal. He tried to catch himself on something on the wall but all he ended up doing was pressing a button that for some godforsaken reason was on the inside of the portal. It hummed around him and after a few moments everything went green. 

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

“Glad to see you’re not dead, nerd.” 

Danny looked up to see Dash. It was too early in the morning to deal with him after yesterday. 

“You already knew I wasn’t dead.” 

“A man can dream.” Danny rolled his eyes at Dash’s comment.

“I remember someone crying a lot of tears yesterday when they thought I was dead.” 

A blush rose on Dash’s cheeks. “My adrenaline was running like crazy! It’s not my fault your screams triggered some kind of primal response in my brain!”

“Crying is a primal response now?”

Dash rolled his eyes back at him and crossed his arms. “Have you figured out your whole ghost thing yet?”

“It’s literally been one day.” Danny stared at him. “How could I have figured anything out yet?”

Dash leaned in close to Danny and he glanced at Dash’s lips for a moment before his gaze darted back to Dash’s. “Maybe your parents have some sort of cure. Or maybe it was a one time thing. I don’t know.” 

“Why do you care so much? It’s literally your fault this is happening.”

Dash raised a hand and looked like he was reaching to place it on Danny’s shoulder. “I just-”

Dash was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. They turned around and were met with Sam and Tucker. She was glaring at Dash with her arms crossed. 

“What are you friends with him now?” Sam asked, angrily gesturing at Dash.

“Woah, so what if he wants to be friends with me?” He asked, stepping towards her.

She barked out a laugh. “Come on! You’ve been bullying him the entire time I’ve known both of you. Why would he want to be friends with you? You must be blackmailing him or something.”

“Sam, he’s not blackmailing me.”

“How can we trust that? You could be lying because he’s blackmailing you.” Tucker frowned at him and reached out a hand, placing it on Danny’s shoulder. “I don't want what happened in elementary school to happen again.”

Danny shrugged it off. “That’s not what’s going on. Why can’t you just trust me on this?”

“Because this isn’t smart.” Sam said. “Why do you guys need to be friends?”

Danny threw his hands into the air. “Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’ve literally only seen us have this one conversation and you’re already mad at me. For all you know we could have been assigned a project together or he’s asking about his tutoring sessions with Jazz. Maybe he had to reschedule and wanted me to tell Jazz.”

Tucker shuffled where he stood but Sam still stared at him with crossed arms. 

“Yeah but are you going to tell us the real reason?”

“Does it matter, Sam?” 

Out of the corner of his eye Dash saw Danny start slowly sinking. He panickingly grabbed Danny’s arm to prevent him from sinking any further into the ground. Danny tried to keep his expression neutral but Dash could tell he was shaken. 

“Oh. Is that what’s happening?” Sam looked between the two of them. 

“Is what happening?” Danny asked, frowning at her. 

“What kind of enemies to lovers bullshit is this?” Dash’s eyes widened at her outburst. What was she talking about? What did she think was happening?

His gaze landed on where his hand was still wrapped around Danny’s upper arm and he pulled it back like he’d been burned. Sam scoffed. 

“Sam-” Tucker started but she interrupted him.

“Do you even realize how toxic that kind of relationship can be? He’s just going to hurt you.”

Danny recoiled at her words. “What are you even talking about?”

“The fact that you two seem to be getting real cozy with each other? Are you dating or something?” 

Dash stepped in front of Danny. “How shallow do you have to assume the only reason I’d be talking to him now is if we’re dating? For your information, we used to be friends as kids.” Dash frowned at her and watched as she backed up. “Just because you’re self conscious about your major crush on Fenton doesn’t mean you have to take it out on us because we’re having a simple conversation.”

A blush appeared on Sam’s cheeks before she angrily stormed away. 

“Sorry.” Tucker said as he looked between them again before he followed after her.

Danny watched them as they walked into the school. He was quiet for a few moments before he turned his gaze back to Dash.

“Sam has a crush on me?”

Dash groaned. “That is what you’re focused on?” He started walking towards the school.

Danny followed next to him. “But I didn’t know that! How did you know that?”

“You’re just about the only person who didn’t know, Fenton.”

Dash pushed through the front doors of the school. Danny had a dazed look on his face. 

“Is that why everyone calls me clueless?” He whispered. 

“Clueless strikes again.”

Danny frowned up at him. “Oh what, you’re so observant, are you?”

Dash pushed open the front door of the school. It swung closed behind them. “More than you. I’m not even friends with Manson and I could see the blackened heart eyes she was giving you.” 

Danny shuffled his backpack on his shoulders as they walked down the hall. “I’ve just never seen her that way. I don’t like her like that.”

Dash’s brows shot up on his forehead. “You don’t?”

Danny shook his head. He veered off to the right and Dash followed him to his locker. “She's just a friend to me.” 

Dash leaned against the lockers while Danny tried to open his but his hand just ended up passing through the dial lock. He groaned.

“Maybe you should tell her that, then. Get it over with so she doesn’t try to kill anyone that even thinks to get close to you.”

Danny rolled his eyes. He finally got his locker open. “She wouldn’t kill anyone for getting close to me.”

“I don’t know.” Dash drawled. “She looked like she was gonna claw my eyes out back there. Like a creepy bat girl.”

Danny slammed his locker shut and turned to look at Dash. “You know, if we’re going to be doing whatever this is, I would appreciate you not making comments about my friends like that.” 

“But she can talk to me like that?”

Danny frowned. “No. I literally told her there was no reason for her to be talking to you like that for having a simple conversation with me.”

“But she’s allowed to not like me?”

“That’s your own fault.” Danny rolled his eyes. “She has every right not to like you.”

Dash huffed. He was about to say something but then Danny started sinking into the floor again. Danny panickingly grabbed Dash’s forearm to prevent himself from sinking any further in. Dash pulled him up and when he set him back down, his feet were solid again. Dash looked around them and miraculously no one else in the hall saw what happened. 

“I’m already over this.” Danny mumbled as he let go of Dash. 

“Do you think you’ll get control over it eventually?” Dash asked him. 

“Hopefully. Otherwise I’ll probably have no choice but to ask my parents for help. I really don’t want to do that though.” 

“Maybe we could do some training? Or practice? You won’t get used to your powers if you just try to ignore them. If you try to do it, then maybe you’ll understand how to not do it.”

Danny nodded. “That makes sense. I guess that’s what we’ll have to do.” 

They came to a split in the hallway. Danny looked up at him.

“Well, I’m going this way.” Danny hooked a thumb over his shoulder as he turned to face Dash.”

Dash nodded. “See you later. Hopefully you don’t drop anything today.”

“Hopefully. We’ll see.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty four beakers. 

Danny was finally getting ahold of his powers and all it took was thirty four dropped beakers and a lifetime ban from handling anything fragile while he was at school. 

Aside from the frequent ghost sighting, things were starting to look up.

“Manson!” 

If only Dash could learn to keep his thoughts to himself when it came to his friends. 

“What is this garbage?” 

He stomped up to where the three of them were sitting at their table in the cafeteria. Sam frowned at him. 

“It’s not garbage! It’s recyclable organic matter.”

“It’s garbage.” Danny and Tucker said together. 

Danny gasped out a breath of cold air. He looked around him. He saw a lunch lady ghost behind the food counter. 

Dash followed his gaze to where the ghost was. He saw it just as she walked behind the wall. 

Dash looked back at Sam and held up his plate of mud, pushing himself between Danny and his friends. “When I asked for a mud pie, I thought I was gonna get a mud pie. Not a literal mud pie!” 

“Actually, it’s topsoil.” 

“Whatever. Are you going to actually eat this garbage?”

Danny slipped away while Dash argued with his friends. Maybe Dash arguing with his friends could actually be useful for something for once. 

He found somewhere to hide and transformed. He flew invisibly back to the cafeteria to the room the lunch ladies worked in. She was floating there looking around and the food and the lunch trays. She kind of looked like Tucker’s grandma. 

She caught sight of him. Danny was ready to bolt as she floated up to him, but she wasn’t making any moves to attack him.

“Hello.” She said sweetly. “Can you help me? Today’s lunch should be meatloaf, but there’s not any here. Did someone change the menu?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. They’re trying something new this week.” 

Danny jumped back as her hair suddenly flamed up with her anger.

“The menu has been the same for fifty years!” She shouted at him. 

“Wait-”

She levitated some plates and shot them at him. Danny dodged and caught them, avoiding getting hit. What was up with this lady? Why was the menu so important? 

“The menu is sacred! Lunch is sacred!” She spoke in her sickly sweet voice again. “Would you like some cake?”

Danny looked at her, confused. “If you’re offering-”

“No one gets cake until the menu is changed back!” 

She held her arms up and meat started flying towards her from every direction. It engulfed her and turned her into a meat monster.

“Meat is the most important food group! Without meat, you’ll remain puny and muscle-less!” 

“I’m not arguing with you there.” Danny mumbled. He geared up for a kick but she grabbed his ankle and sent him flying across the room. 

“I will restore the sanctity of the lunch menu! As soon as I find out who changed it!”

She disappeared in a tornado of meat.

The ghost was gone for now. Danny flew through the wall of the school and collapsed onto the ground. He transformed back and tried to push himself up. He was so tired. He’d never used his powers like that before. He groaned. 

“Hey.”

Danny opened his eyes and looked up. Dash was standing there with his hand outstretched to Danny. He looked at it for a second before he reached up and grabbed it, pulling himself up with Dash’s help. 

“Thanks. That ghost wiped me out.”

“No problem. I wanted to make sure that ghost didn’t kill you. I was trying to find you when I saw you fly through the wall and hit the ground out here.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah that wasn’t fun.” He looked down and saw that he was still holding onto Dash’s hand. He pulled it away and coughed. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I should go check on Sam and Tucker though. I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“The ghost attack was pretty contained.” Dash said. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah.” Dash said. “That’s fair. Sorry about dragging out that argument with her.”

Danny shrugged and started walking away. “It distracted them long enough to let me slip away for a bit so. No harm done. At least not to me.”

“Good luck. Hopefully she doesn’t chew your head off.” 

Danny pulled the door Dash had walked out open and stepped back inside the school, shaking the hand that had been holding Dash’s. He made his way through the hallways to find Sam and Tucker. 

Sam slammed open the cafeteria doors as Danny stumbled down the hallway. 

“I still can’t believe you’re talking to that meathead.” She shot at him with no preamble. “He literally antagonizes all of us. And then you ditch us to go meet up with him? I saw you two outside.”

“Sam-” 

“What can you say to defend him?” She turned to look at him. “He beats you up all the time.”

“Not anymore.” Danny said.

“What?” Sam stopped walking.

“He doesn’t beat me up anymore.”

She didn’t say anything to that for a few moments. She shook her head. “I still don’t trust him. I don’t get how you could forgive him so easily.”

“I-” He stopped. Had he forgiven Dash?

Sam shook his head. “Let’s just get to class.”

Danny looked around them. “Where’s Tucker?”

She rolled her eyes. “He said he smelt meat so he went to track it down through the hallways. I don’t know if he’s found it yet.” 

Danny scrunched up his nose. He knew exactly what meat Tucker was smelling. “He’s just gonna go eat whatever random mystery meat he finds?”

“Apparently.”

Danny didn’t respond after her last stilted reply. He followed behind her to their next class. When they walked in she went straight to her seat but he looked up and made eye contact with Dash. Dash gave him a questioning look and Danny just shrugged at him before sitting back down.

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

Dash walked into the Nasty Burger. Football had just ended and he was hungry. 

As he was walking to the counter he saw Danny sitting at a table with his friends. Dash smirked and walked over to them.

“Hey, nerds.” He placed a hand on the table and leaned his weight into it. 

Sam rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” 

“I just came to say hi to my favorite nerds. Is there a problem with that?” 

“If we’re your favorite does that mean you’ll stop making fun of us?” Tucker asked thoughtfully. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, Sam.”

“He’s not going to stop making fun of us, Tucker. The two of them are over there ‘trying to be friends.’” She said with air quotes. “And he still picks on us all the time.” 

“I’ve tried talking to him about it, Sam, but he has a hard time with it.” 

She shot Danny a look. “So why be friends with him? Why give him a chance? What do you see in him?”

“Just because he doesn’t like you-”

Sam scoffed. “Maybe you’re too insecure about your own crush on Danny.” 

Danny whipped his head to look at her. 

“What?” Dash laughed it off. “What are you talking about, Manson?” 

“Yeah, Sam, what are you talking about?” Danny stared at her. 

“Isn’t that what’s been happening this whole time?” She shot back at them. “He’s got some kind of weird feelings for you, he’s trying to get into your pants. Get on your good side. The pulling the girl’s pigtails because you like her bullshit? Don’t you see how weird his sudden change in actions towards you is?” 

“What about your sudden change in actions?” Danny shot at her. “Do you realize how much of an asshole you’ve been lately?”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t friends with-”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “God forbid if I make new friends! Or try to get along with someone instead of fighting! Or even make decisions for myself.” 

“Danny-”

He cut her off and stood up. “No I’m-” He gasped and Dash saw his ghost sense fog out of his mouth. He frowned. “I’m going home. I need some time alone.” He turned and started walking towards the door. 

“Danny!” Dash followed behind Danny out of the Nasty Burger. 

The ghost was flying above the parking lot shooting ecto-blasts every which way. 

The door slammed behind Dash and Danny turned his head to look at him. 

“I need some time to think. Please just go back inside.” 

He called on his transformation rings. Once they passed across his body he jumped up and flew into the air towards the ghost. 

He watched Danny fight the ghost. He could tell he was angry. He was sloppy today. 

Danny missed a dodge and got hit through the air by the ghost. He ended up turned facing the opposite direction so he didn’t see it start to charge at him. 

Dash’s heart raced as he watched the ghost fly up to Danny. His heart stirred with feelings he wanted to push down. He didn’t need to put himself in danger for Danny. He didn’t feel that way. Danny didn’t feel that way about him.

But as the ghost got closer, Dash couldn’t help as the anxiety skyrocketed. His resolve broke and he picked up a big piece of asphalt off the ground and chucked it at the ghost. It turned to look at him. 

Dash froze when the ghost’s eyes landed on him. What was he doing? Was Danny really that important to him now?

The ghost’s mouth filled up with ectoplasm and shot it towards.

He wouldn’t be able to move in-

Danny knocked Dash out of the way of the ecto-blast just in time. His arms wrapped around Dash’s chest and he flew back. The blast hit the ground where he’d been standing just a moment before. 

Dash wrapped his arms around Danny as they slammed into the ground. He groaned as his back slid across the pavement and Danny looked down at him. He started feeling the back of Dash’s head, running his fingers through his hair. 

Dash opened his eyes and looked up at Danny. He looked panicked. Like something was wrong, but he literally just prevented anything from being wrong.

“Dash, are you okay?”

He nodded. “Back hurts. Head’s fine.”

Danny leaned down and lay his head on Dash’s chest. Dash’s hands slid down Danny’s back and rested at his side and he closed his eyes again. He really didn’t like this whole ghost hunting thing. 

The ghost roared behind them and Dash felt Danny’s head shoot back up. 

“Shit! How did I forget about the ghost?”

Dash waved his hand above him. “Go. I’m fine. I’m just gonna get my bearings on the ground here.” 

Dash listened as Danny finished fighting the ghost. It ended quickly and he could hear Danny’s footsteps as he walked to stand over Dash. Dash opened his eyes and his heart jumped at the way the sun shone on Danny’s white hair. 

Danny held his hand out to Dash and he slowly reached up and grabbed it. Danny pulled him to his feet and looked at their hands. He let go a moment later. 

“I think we need a new rule. No interfering with ghost attacks.”

“What?” Dash frowned at him. “That thing was about to gobble you.” 

Danny crossed his arms. “Yeah, but if I didn’t get to you on time you could've gotten very badly hurt. I thought I knocked your head on the ground when I knocked you out of the way.” 

Dash shrugged. “But you didn’t.” 

“We can’t rely on that.” Danny looked away from him. “Just promise you won’t interfere like that again?”

Dash wasn’t sure if that was something he could actually do. But one look at the expression on Danny’s face told Dash he should at least try. 

“Yeah. I promise.” 

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

Danny was nodding off in the middle of class. They were given time to work on their homework today but all Danny wanted to do was sleep. Having to fight all these ghosts all the time was making his life way too stressful. He wasn’t to sleep or get his homework done or even get to class on time. It was starting to get to him. 

He yawned. While his eyes were shut he heard someone sit down next to him. He opened his eyes and saw Dash in the next seat over. 

“You look tired.”

“Thanks, captain obvious. I didn’t realize.” 

Dash shrugged. He slouched back in his seat. “Your friends are whispering about you back there.” 

Danny turned and looked over his shoulder at where Sam and Tucker sat at the table in the back of the classroom. When they saw him looking Sam turned back around. Tucker just waved at him awkwardly. 

Danny waved back at him. “I wish they’d just sit over here with me.” 

Dash waved them off. “Who needs ‘em if they’re going to be treating you like that.” 

Sam snorted behind them. Dash turned to look at her. “You got something to say Manson?”

“As if we could treat him any worse than anything you’ve ever done to him.” 

Dash shrugged as he faced back towards the front of the classroom. “Hey, at least my character arc is positive. I’ve made amends.” 

“You’ve hardly even done anything. What kind of character arc have you actually had?”

“I-” Dash started but then he stopped. His brows dropped down and he looked at Danny. 

It hit Danny then that the only thing that really changed with Dash’s behavior was how he treated Danny. He didn’t pick on him anymore and he had cared about him, but he immediately resumed the same habits with both of Danny’s friends. Any time that Dash covered for Danny’s whereabouts during ghost fights, the only thing he could think to do was antagonize Sam and Tucker. He could never think up any actual excuses that wouldn’t cause more problems. 

Danny missed part of the conversation. By the time he tuned back in, Sam was glaring at Dash from across the room. 

“Just because he’d rather spend time with me than you-”

Danny’s ghost sense picked that moment to go off and he couldn’t think of a more convenient time for it to have happened. He stood up sharply and made his way out of the classroom quickly. The door slammed behind him as it closed and he was a couple steps down the hallway when the door opened behind him again.

“Danny, wait-” 

“Why do you do that?” Danny turned and frowned at him. 

“What?” Dash’s brows furrowed.

“Why do you dig at them like that? Make them feel bad about what’s going on?”

“Manson-” Dash started but Danny interrupted him. 

“No. Sam and Tucker are mad at me because of you. They think I’m always ditching them to go hang out with you instead.” 

“That’s not my fault!” Dash shouted back at him. “That’s the ghost’s fault!” 

“But they don’t know that!” Danny stared at him. “All they know is that I’m on good terms with you now and I disappear all the time. They know something is up.” 

Dash shuffled where he stood. He knew he was causing a rift between Danny and his friends. No matter how much he liked to antagonize them, he wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t trying to put distance between them. 

Danny sighed. “She keeps making jabs about us being together like it would be crazy. Like it would be the worst thing in the world.” Danny looked up at Dash. “I would like it if it wasn’t the craziest thing in the world. If it could actually be true. But with the way you treat my friends-” He shook his head. 

Everything around Dash stopped. What? 

“Danny-”

A blue mist came out of Danny’s mouth again. He shook his head.

“I gotta go.”

“Wait-”

Danny ran around the corner away from Dash.

“What did you do to him?” 

Dash looked down the hallway to see Sam glaring at him. Tucker stood next to her. 

“What?” He asked. 

“He just ran away from you? What did you do to him?” She stomped her way over to him.

“Nothing!” Dash held his hands up in a surrendering motion. “We were just talking and he had to go-”

“We’re in the middle of class. What else would he need to be doing right now?”

“Yeah. Why would he be leaving?” Tucker asked. 

“He, uh, went to-”

Sam ran past him and around the corner Danny went down, Tucker close on her heels. Dash followed behind them knowing Danny would already be gone but they didn’t stop there. They ran down the hallway and out the door leading outside. 

“Danny?” She shouted. “Where are you?”

Dash was the only one that noticed Danny floating in the sky. He was fighting an animal type ghost.

“Uh, guys, I think we should probably go back inside.” 

He pointed up at the sky and Sam and Tucker followed his finger. Sam’s eyes widened and she looked around the front of the school again. 

“Danny!” 

Phantom must’ve heard that one because he turned his head to look down at them. The ghost took that moment to hit Phantom, sending him flying through the air. Now he was much closer to them. 

This ghost looked horrifying. It was animalistic but it looked uncannily like a person. Stringy, hair looking fur and teeth curved into a creepy smile. 

“Get to safety! Now!” Phantom shouted down at them. He shot another ectoblast at the ghost. 

“We have to find Danny first!” Sam shouted in a panic. 

“He’s not out here.” Dash turned to go back inside the school. “Let’s just listen to Phantom and get somewhere safe.”

“That hallway doesn’t lead anywhere except outside! Where else could he be?” Sam asked, still turning around looking for Danny. 

“He didn’t-” 

“Danny!” Tucker shouted. 

Dash growled. Why didn’t they just listen to him? 

The ghost let out a shriek and Dash squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. 

“Go inside, now!” 

Dash’s eyes opened at Phantom’s shout. He looked back up into the air. 

Dash stared at the ghost that was hovering in the air in front of them. It was cackling, its head thrown back into the air. It looked back at the ground directly at Sam and promptly shot an ectoblast out of its mouth. Dash saw Sam’s mouth open the slightest bit and everything slowed down. Danny turned, following the path of the blast but when he tried to fly towards her the ghost grabbed onto him, trapping him. 

This was one of Danny’s best friends. She might hate Dash’s guts but Danny cared for her more than she hated him. 

Without another thought, he pushed himself into a run and sprinted his way across the grass. He put himself between her and the ghost and grabbed her just as the blast hit him in the back.

He could hear Sam scream as they fell to the ground. Tucker was shouting from somewhere else but Dash couldn’t make much out past the ringing in his ears. He could hear scuffling in the air above him but it was muffled. The pain in his back radiated out and he could feel it in every jostle as someone shook his body. 

Everything started fading away and Dash hoped he wasn’t dying. Distantly, he wondered if this is how Danny felt when he died in the portal. 

The voices fell away and so did Dash.

~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, the world came back to him. The first thing he noticed was the steady beeping nearby. The second thing was how bright the lights were against his eyelids. 

He groaned and he heard some shuffling to his left. Someone placed a hand on his arm. 

“Dash?”

His heart skipped a beat and he slowly pried his eyes open. He was laying in a bed in the hospital and Danny was standing to his left. 

“Danny?” Dash croaked out. He tried to sit up but Danny pushed him back down against his pillows. 

“You shouldn’t move too much. You got hit pretty bad.” 

“You got the ghost though?” Dash asked. 

“Yeah, he got the ghost.”

Sam and Tucker walked into the room and stood next to Danny. 

“Uh, no I asked if Phantom got the-” Dash fumbled, trying to cover it up.

“It’s okay, Dash.” Danny said. “I told them. I thought it might be better if they knew.”

Dash looked at Danny’s two friends. They didn’t look like they were mad at him anymore. Or like they hated him. It was relieving that they knew. Danny didn’t have to keep avoiding them or keep secrets anymore. 

“If we’d known in the first place we could’ve helped, you know.” Sam said, shooting both of them a look. 

“Yeah. A team always needs a tech guy.” Tucker crossed his arms in mock frustration.

“But we do understand why you guys have been acting weird for the past couple months.” Sam turned to look at Dash. “Thank you for helping him even though you didn’t have to.”

Dash nodded, dumbfounded.

She stared at him a moment longer and pulled her gaze away. “And thank you for knocking me out of the way of that hit. Sorry it landed you here.”

Dash shook his head. “You’re Danny’s friends. You’re important to him. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of all this ghost stuff.” 

“That’s a nice thought, but you should also try not to get yourself hurt.” Sam said. 

“Yeah.” Danny frowned. “You promised.” 

Dash shrugged. “We can call it karma.” 

Tucker stepped forward. “We need a name.”

“A name?” Danny looked up at Tucker.

“Yeah, like a cool ghost hunting team name.” He waved his hands in the air. “What about Team Phantom?”

Sam snorted. “That sounds dumb.”

Tucker planted his hands on his hips. “Well, do you have any better ideas then?”

Danny’s hand slowly made his way down from his arm to his hand as they talked. He entwined his fingers with Dash’s and gave him a squeeze. Dash squeezed his hand back. 

Everything would be okay. Everything was okay. 

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #dash baxter #sam manson #tucker foley #swagger bishie #kinda #phic phight 2024 #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #phic

[ectobabble]

Glitter Roots Fic Snippet

✨Glitter Roots✨<- // I started this in January and it didn't do well, I wrote way too much, so I'm spamming it. Sorry.

---

Rate: PG | Sunshine x Sunny | Tooth Rot Fluff + Comfort

Reader/MC has Dissociative Identity Disorder

Glitter Roots is a prequel to 'The Imposter' from Shiny's perspective. Expecting to work with Sun and Moon in the theater, Shiny is disappointed that they were locked away in Parts and Service.

Shiny's existence is based on external validation and performing for others, essential for survival as a child but a hindrance as an adult. They pour their heart and soul into the daycare and the well-being of Sun/Moon, regardless of their own needs. Sun/Moon struggle with the memories of the reprogramming and virus but learn how to be a person again while sprouting a relationship with their new handler/assistant.

----

Meeting Sunny:

“SUNNY!” They exclaimed like a child, running up to him and dropping everything that they were doing with the technician.

Sun startled at the noise but eagerly stood up to greet them. “Hello! WOW. Your outfit? It’s exciting!” He pressed his hands against the glass. “Are you from the daycare?” He tapped his fingers on the glass nervously.

“I’m going to be at the daycare. It’s my first day! And then I went and talked to my boss, Lydia about what I’d be working on and she said that I’d be working mostly with you because she said that I remind her of her daughter and she said that we’d be good working together. Maybe her daughter is good with kids, she didn’t want to talk about it. You know her? Or remember her, I mean. She said she worked at the daycare before it closed down. Now it’s opening again and…” 

Shiny had to stop to take a large breath. You’re talking too much. Too excited again. Stop. Stop it. That didn’t stop their mouth from running. “I have been waiting to meet you for so long. I used to watch you perform back when you did theater! You were amazing!” 

Sun put up a finger, to try and wedge his way into the one-sided conversation but failed. 

“You can call me Sunshine. Lydia said we could put nicknames on our pins for the kids and I thought that was awesome! My friends used to call me Sunshine at summer camp! I wanted to keep it since it’s less serious and I thought it’d be cute. Actually, maybe I should have asked you first? Is that okay? I hope that’s okay! I should stop talking. Sorry. Talking. I’m talking more… It’s good to meet you. I hope we can hang out sometime!”

“Ho-Ho Ho! Aren’t you quite the chaaaatterbox! You say you’re in summer caaaaamp?! That sounds like so much fun! How old are you, little superstar? You look so tiny!”

Sunshine immediately lost all the charisma they had built up, so much so that Sun flinched at the sudden change in expression and tone. “I’m old enough to have a job… I like what I like and age shouldn’t matter… I heard you’re not a fan of adults either. I hope it’s not a bad thing.”

“Wow, really?” He cocked his head, though there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. “I can’t tell with the face paint.” He didn’t say whether it was alright or if he liked it… now that Shiny was thinking about it, he didn’t say if their name was alright either. They weren’t making a good impression with anyone… 

Sunshine: …I gotta fix it. It can’t end like this, they’ll take over and I’ll lose everything again. I can’t go BACK. This has to work so they can’t get mad at me.

If Sun didn’t like it then they could tone it down! Lydia seemed to think it was too much. The little kids liked it… Sunshine started analyzing everyone’s reactions during the day. Maybe their other was right, they weren’t cut out for this. They quit their only job, their safety net, and took a risk on a stupid dream-. “I’m glad you can’t tell. That’s good.” 

“Did you do face painting today?” Sun tilted his head, tapping the glass. “I would have loved that! Who painted you? Did Lydia?”

Sunshine winced, their voice had gotten much weaker. “I uh… did it before coming over. I figured it was okay because… kids… daycare.”

“It looks so happy! Like flower freckles!” He chuckled. “It matches the clips in your hair. I bet the kids liked it. It reminds me of the theater costumes we used to have! Ah, memories…” It sounded like it was sad nostalgia.

“Lydia got a little upset about it since the kids wanted to face paint too… I had to promise to not do it on days when we’re not painting. That’s my bad. I don’t think before doing things… I wanted it to be extra special. I really really really want to make this job work.” They closed their fists and and shook them to punctuate their words. They needed to be liked. They needed this job. They needed friends and have people depend on them. 

They couldn’t go BACK.

“I do remember Lydia! She is one of the nicer staff. I didn’t mind working with her… She’s such a nice granny. Do you know when I’m scheduled to get out? I have been very good. They say I’m all better now! Healthy! Tip top shape.”

Sunshine frowned. “I - uh - don’t… Actually, I’m not supposed to really be here. I came down after work… and the technicians are ignoring me right now so I think it’s okay?” Behind them were the technicians tolling away at some service bots, unbothered by Sunshine hanging around. 

“Rulebreaker.” He gasped.

“Not really. See, I got a pass!” They showed Sun their security badge. “My workday ended and I just came here because Lydia said that you were here and I really wanted to see you. I’ve always wanted to work with kids and never got the opportunity to apply.”

“Juuuust because you have the means, does not mean that it is right.” Sunny crossed his arms and looked away dramatically, then he completely dropped the act and leaned down to be face to face with them and whisper, “I am glad you visited though. It’s been a while since I’ve talk talk TALKED with someone new. You look like a rainbow threw up on you!” He giggled. “You must like color a lot.” Sunny prompted them, trying to continue the conversation. He probably was just as attention starved as Sunshine was.

But he didn’t like it, did he?

“I do.” Sunshine was afraid they were going to slip from being out again. If there was one thing their other fed off of it was insecurity and doubt, and they could get a full meal out of something as small as this.

Other: Did you put this shit in our hair again? Oh man, where are we? Are you playing dress up? Are we out in public looking like a clown?! Against their will, Sunshine began to take the pins out of their hair. It was a losing the battle. As they lowered the head to pull the clips out, the light caught on the glitter roots.

Sun gasped. “You got glitter glue all up in your hair!”

Sunshine was shaking a little. People liked it though, right? They made people smile today and the kids seemed to like it… “Oh. I did that on purpose. It’s hair gel mixed with glitter. It’s a trend.. Or it was…” That was a scary thought too; it was a trend eight years ago and yet they remembered seeing it like yesterday. “I saw it online and I thought it’d be cool to try. It’ll wash out… and its biodegradable. Team Mother Earth! Haha…” Sunshine cleared their throat, pulling another clip out.

“No no no! I’m sorry, new friend! It looked good! I haven’t seen a person that colorful before. You look like a little fairy. Heh!”

“I realize now that I overdid it…” Sunshine was getting self-conscious, a foreign feeling.

“You look perfect for the daycare! Don’t listen to the sticks in the mud! I’m sure the kids loved it! Avant garde! Inspired! You look like arts and craaaaafts.” Sun sang as he spun his rays. “That’d be great at parties - we should play dress up with the kids sometime to do plays! I’d love that! We should definitely do that.”

“I want the party on the inside to match the party on the outside.” Sunshine was gaining their confidence back, if only a little. “I hope, uhm, we get along when you come back out.”

Sun clapped his hands. “We shall see! I’m so excited to see the kids again! We’re going to have so much FUN! We should add face painting sometimes! I miss fingerpainting. My ballpit! It’s still there?”

“It is!” Sunshine suddenly jumped, remembering something important. “Here! I wanted to give you something anyway. I got this for you because it’s my first day and I figured ‘Hey, this would be cool! Maybe he’d like it as a welcome present back to the daycare.’ I used to watch you do theater before and it really helped get me through some dark times. That’s pretty much the reason I wanted to start working here is because I wanted -.” They took a much needed deep breath. “Sorry. I meant to say: I got you this.”

Shiny lifted up a little party bag they had prepared and impatiently waited all day to give to him. 💖

#fnaf au #fnaf security breach #fnaf fanfic #daycare attendant moon #daycare attendant sun #fnaf daycare attendant #pluck my heartstrings #tooth rotting fluff #sundrop #dca #sun x reader #sun x oc #sun x y/n #dca fanfic

[esmes]

don't mind me - just some rainy day musings bc sweeney todd 2023 has rotted my brain

someone's tags on a gifset got me thinking about 2023 revival lovett and todd and the special something their dynamic has. there's something about this particular iteration of these characters and their relationship, especially as we see it evolve throughout the show (even as we've seen it evolve throughout the show's run), that just makes mrs lovett's betrayal and her death at his hands hit hard. i know, i know - she deserves it. she lies! she's a lying liar. her deceit is no small thing. any one of us would be incensed to have been misled the way she misleads sweeney. even if a small part of her may have done it, as she says, to spare him having to see what became of his lucy, the larger part was certainly to serve her own interests.

but there's something about how close mrs lovett gets to bringing sweeney around to her this time that just gets me carried away. they're not just business partners - they're lovers, they're co-conspirators, and they're sort of each other's only friend in the world. at this point, he indulges her flights of fancy. they know each other intimately. they joke with each other! he's likely had to listen to countless hours of her prattling on about her thoughts, hopes, and wishes. this is a man who, at this point in the show, is slitting people's throats without remorse. and yet he spends the evening on the sofa cleaning his pipe while he patiently listens to his girlfriend rave about a seaside wedding. when she takes his hand, he doesn't wrench himself from her grasp like he used to. he doesn't get up and walk out, which he could do. he accepts her - her presence, her company, her warmth. he may struggle to admit it to himself, but he does. he can concede that he loves her - just a little bit, though he can't quite bring himself to say the words. sweeney is fiercely loyal to lucy's memory, so much so that he clearly couldn't ever wholly give his heart to someone else, but, in that moment after "by the sea", you can see that he's softened toward lovett. they were both alone a long time before this, after all.

it's not the stuff of great love songs, but it's something. it's almost enough.

this is what ultimately makes the final living moments between them all the more heartbreaking. mrs lovett has always been a sympathetic character to me - a villain, sure, but not without her reasons. she's a woman alone in a brutal world. whether the character is an older or a younger iteration, she's been alone for a desperately long time. when sweeney returns to her after all this time, she sees her moment and she takes it. she's not letting her second chance at life get away from her without a few claw marks.

when sweeney kills her, he sheds no tears over it - but the grudging fondness we'd seen him beginning to feel toward her only serves to emphasize how monstrous of a deception it is. his "you LIED to me" comes out in an anguished roar. when he throws her in that oven, all the light goes out from the world. it takes my breath away every time. though it should, it doesn’t quite feel like justice.

i know not everyone loves annaleigh's interpretation, but i have maintained from the first time i saw this revival that the warmth she brings, the honeyed, deluded, comical sweetness that lures sweeney into believing life with her could be tolerable, if not ideal, was a brilliant choice.

that's why the leap into hell together works for me. some productions have had sweeneys that barely tolerate their lovetts, so a cold diverging of paths makes sense. these two definitely fall into a different category. it makes sense to me for this sweeney and lovett's ultimate fate to be each other. who else would it be? lucy did nothing wrong - she's not going where he's going. having made lovett pay for her lies, they can head on down (hand in unlovable hand!!!!!!!) to live out the almost-enough life they created with each other. and sure, her chirping his ear off for eternity would certainly make an appropriate punishment for his crimes.

#sweeney todd #long post #lord but i do go on! #mrs lovett and i have this in common #i've enjoyed them since i discovered the show in 2006 and they are very much My Brand #but i really do just feel a deep fondness for j&a's todd/lovett antics #and any other production whose sweeney/lovett Go There #also soz to reference the movie but #the moment where hbc's lovett echoes sweeney's 'life is for the alive my dear' back at him? perfection #'maybe not like i dreamed. maybe not like you remember. but we could get by.' perfection. no notes. #anyway the girlies that get it get it #otp: if you only knew

[crossbackpoke-check]

do u ever speak too soon & immediately regret it.

#yes this is about the trade that just happened three minutes ago #clown shoes of prophecy in the tumblr tags #no i am not Doing Well #I THOUGHT I WAS GODDAMN SAFE FROM THE BRUINS #to be deleted but i am literally resisting the urge to screech like a feral animal in the gym right now i am being soooooo normal #WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME PERSONALLY SPECIFICALLY I’M GOING TO CRY INTO A HOLE I CAN’T DO THIS NARRATIVE IT’S ONLY DYLAN LEFT YOU TOOK HIM #i have to pretend to be normal :) i have to take an exam :) and function as a human being :) instead of crouching like a bug on the floor #and then i will come home and open up the notes app i made two (?) years ago that says ‘if tyler bertuzzi ever gets traded it’s-’ #& everyone will be suffering with me. sorry not sorry for the influx of sad bertuzzi posts that are coming like i have Such a relationship #with him as a player &i know he’s the worst but also it really sucks to watch every guy you thought was the core of ur team get traded away #purely narratively speaking in all bemoaning etc etc etc except for the part where we don’t have a gritty net front presence now & #who’s gonna be larks & lucas’ winger & i just cried about tyler in a fight the other day because mickey said ‘i’m sure he wants to protect #those hands but sometimes you can’t you gotta do it for the boys’ & i think mickey said ‘they’ as in the team wants him to not hurt his hand #again but he has to fight & if that isn’t also v much a part of the old gods detroit it was always tyler champion of blood & guts & giving #& regardless of hockey (EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT IT WAS FOR DRAFT PICKS I HATE DRAFT PICKS WHAT ARE U GONNA DO WITH THOSE like at least if #it’s for a guy i could maybe learn to love him but you never remember who you traded to get those draft picks unless it’s narratively r #relevant later but right now it feels like it’s for nothing & i don’t want to learn to love some new guy in five years i miss tyler already) #anyway. ik full well this won’t cause me to actually finish tyler borzoituzzi bc i haven’t even properly started it but i can dream of spite

[wingsandpetals]

i had a good dream!

#well maybe it was meant to be a scary dream but it turned into fun #i was trapped in an irl like. game where you had to bypass various horrors in order to get to the next level #like one level you had to fight horrid beasts with whatever you could find and somehow it had an angelic vibe. like i think there where two #kind of angel-like people who you had to follow for protection but they were also kind of scary #and there was rotting wood and plants everywhere in that level and some kind of lore about a wedding party dying because their bones #were everywhere #and i picked up some kind of bone whip i found but the less friendly of the angels yelled at me because apparently it was his #sacred relic or something #and one was a hospital corridor full of blood and twisted bloody creatures and you couldn't look at them or aknowledge anything #you just had to keep your head down and walk no matter what (i ACED that every time. im so good at not responding and not meeting eyes) #and the other one i remember (i think there were 7 levels? maybe) was like the floor was kind of a mosiac that kept changing #and if you didnt step on the center of a 'tile' you would die (again; an easy and fun one) #*clarification the floor didn't shift or anything although that would have been cool. the pattern evolved into different materials and shape #s as you went on #anyway i dreamed it once and was scared but then i dreamed it again and wasnt so scared and beat everything fast and then dreamed it again #and brought my whole family and we had a fun time and i woke up because i cleared the mosaic level fast and sat down in between to look at #my phone #our post comrade.

[capfalcon]

listen to dermot kennedy music.....go slightly insane.....listen to dermot kennedy music.......

#HIS FUCKIN LYRICS???? HIS FUCKIN VOICE??? #'when she kissed me i felt a new freedom of something' #'i found a moment to be brave so i let her know. and she said how could i love you back #you who dropped your dreams in the gutter' #'in my winters shell be burning slow' #MAYBE IVE LOST COUNT OF THE ROOMS YOURE TALL IN. MAYBE IVE LOST COUNT OF THE NIGHTS IM ALL IN. #'but i still get to see your face right? and that's like nothing they can take right?' #'i remember when her heart broke over stubborn shit thats no way to be living kid the angel of death is ruthless' #'the scream tore sea and sky apart/ so you want fears? we've still got several' #'the hero did it for days where you dont know if the moon will even come and then it lays down #and im telling you man its sweet when it does' #so the hero did it for the summer....for the phrase please dont ever leave me #'you smiled and looked down when i told you it aint bad to be me' #'you call arrows to fall short. because the snow is at our feet.' #'but its alright because you cause laterns to light' #'take me back to places i feel loved in/maybe failing that take me to boston' #'i learned theres beauty i cant keep. so stunner dont ever move softly' #'wanna be king in your story. everything i hold dear resides in those eyes' #'when everything was broken the devil hit his second stride but you remember what i told you someday ill need your spine to hide behind' #'wasnt if love as soon as we knew each other properly?' #'now when im face to face with death ill grab him by the through and ask him how does it hurt' #AHHHSHSHSBSBSBSHHHHH #jordan rambles #dermot kennedy

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

#sometimes i get really sad about my life you know? like. really sad about it lmao. for various reasons. #like it would be really cool to be normal. very often i just wish i was normal lmao. #but then i remember meeting this guy while i was homeless&he had everything that i late 20s/early 30s college grad would want #stable&well paying job in the field he actually went to college for #rented part of a banging a duplex that had a yard allowed dogs&was a five minute walk from downtown bar crawl area #had both one of my fave motorcycles-- an r6--&one of my all time dream cars-- a 6speed cts-v. #i presume a dating life from the tampons that were in his bathroom. #&yet. he was miserable from what i could tell lmao. &it was weird bc it was like he didnt realize that #until he met us lmao. i would be more annoyed by that. i was v annoyed by it at the time lmao. the amount of weird jealousy i dealt w while #fucking homeless+sick is disgusting&ill never forgive fucking anyone for it&a part of me will always be dead+rotted bc of it lmao. #but for him it was different in the way of. i could kind of understand it lmao. #he had come from a rough background from what i understand&was a success story. #&yet he clearly felt trapped in his own life. clearly felt like he was surrounded by things he should be more grateful for while none of it #filled the hole in him ppl like him are PROMISED success will fill. being apart of the status quo but on the good end will alleviate. #he had been in one accident&never rode his bike again. when i asked why he lied&told me the bike was unrideable bc he didnt know me lmao #&when i asked if there had been any damage past the obvious dent in the gas tank he got red+quiet+changed the topic. #he worked at some big bank&didnt bother trying to brag bc the one thing he DID know about me is that i am v anti bank+leftist lmao. #he considered himself a leftist too until he talked to me&realized he was actually v centrist in basically every view he had #&that centrism came from a desire to keep his privileges as a cis white straight man-- something that made him openly embarassed. #he used to deal thru college&when i met him he couldnt keep up w one round of dabs w me something that also obviously embarassed him. #he had surrounded himself w ppl just like him&was jarred upon meeting anyone outside of that bubble who wasnt a far right asshole. #&he didnt like what he saw about himself. &that was really obvious. #when we left his place after the brief week we were staying there he was literally in tears about how much he wanted to come. #to help&see where we ended up or whatever idk lmao. i guess im still actively annoyed by it lmao. #but i still get it on some level. when you reach the top&realize youre not fucking happy where do you go from there? #will a house do it? will moving to a different location for your same bullshit job do it? will meeting a girl exactly like you do it? #&when i want to be normal so bad it physically hurts i remember him&i think maybe things arent so bad lmao. #like it could be worse i guess lmao.

[twinkodium]

I might have shoot myself in the foot with that pool pic reblog 🫣

(Nsfw tags incoming 👀)

#I had a dream about exactly what I’ve written in the tags 🫠🫠🫠 #I was mad when my alarm went off and I had to get up 😩 #but since I work from home on Fridays I give myself another 20 mins to maybe get back to the dream or whatever #and guess what I had another one 😭😭😭 #him in that room with the red lighting but not wearing much apart from a boxer 😭 #we might have discarded the clothes before I dunno #but whatever I deffo remember having him against the wall while on my knees 🤭 #and fucking on the new car cuz we could 🤷🏻‍♀️ #but not breaking anything didn’t want to give extra work for the mechanics before the weekend #and Lando was there too…. almost walking in on us like??? #I know you’re into Oscar but fuck off honey 😩 #you can’t ruin it for me in my dreams too

[lymtw]

Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...

He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.

He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.

"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.

"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.

"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.

"Did you cum?"

Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.

"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"

"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"

"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.

"I did...'nt. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."

"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"

You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.

"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."

"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.

"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.

"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."

Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"

"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.

You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.

"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"

You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."

You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."

"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.

"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."

"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."

It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.

Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"

You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."

It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.

Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."

"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."

You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"

"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.

#fanfic #toji fic #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #dilf toji #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk scenarios #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[strawhbrrries]

Movement

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

summary: a double date that leads to mike schmidt coming home with you in the name of "helping your friend" and he ends up fucking you.

warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, creampie??, female pronouns, slight degrading??, pet names, heavy cussing, mike being hashtag v hot, no established relationship, porn with no plot, not proofread

word count: 2.1k words

author’s note: listen to movement by hozier for the full experience!!! I know this fic wasn't voted to be the first mike one to be posted but I had to do it okay!!!! he's so hot n sexy in this and i need him badly...please enjoy! mwah!

Your eyes scanned the restaurant in front of your car, you were promised a very nice dinner with a very nice man and the place you ended up might as well have been a denny’s. Gia somehow managed to rope you into a double date and as the amazing friend you are, you obliged. Now, you wanted to take it back. If the guy you were set up with wasn’t just an absolute heartthrob you might consider strangling her in the bathroom.

“Gia, this better be the best damn food and the hottest men you have ever experienced or I’m never doing you another favor ever again.” You teased, getting out of your car as she walked up to it.

“I swear he said this place was nicer! Thank you so much babes, I owe you one!” She responded, slipping her arm inside of yours to walk inside. “Maybe the inside is really nice and it’s just a shady exterior.”

You’d never seen the man Gia was seeing tonight so when the two of you arrived at the table you weren’t sure which man was yours, but you knew which one you wanted. He looked gentle, shaggy hair untamed almost like he wasn’t prepared to go on a date tonight. 

“I suppose I’m your date.” He smiled softly, getting up to pull your chair out for you. “I’m MIke, you look uh, really beautiful tonight.”

After the introductions and small talk the two of you hit it off right away, it helped that Gia and her date were more interested in each other than remembering that the people they brought also existed.  The more you talked the more Mike came out of his shell, he wasn’t as shy as you first pegged him to be. Your heel was slowly caressing his calf, neither of you were quite sure when it had ended up there but he wasn’t complaining.

“A man in uniform is hot.” Your flirting was a little rusty, but it seemed to be working just fine for you.

“It’s just a security gig.” He shrugged it off, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. 

You grabbed the straw of your drink, wrapped your tongue around it, and took a sip. Mike choked slightly but covered it up with a cough, adjusting his pants under the table at the same time. 

“She’s not going to go home with him unless I go home with you.” You whispered in his ear as you leaned over the table, tangling your fingers in his hair to trick Gia into thinking you were whispering something dirty. “I’d really like to go home with you.”

You could feel the heat creep up his neck, his face was flushed. His heart might as well be on the outside of his chest with the intensity that it was beating, it’d been a long time since he’d been on a date or even gotten laid but Abby was at home and that just wouldn’t work.

“Uhm, my sister’s at home, can we go to your place?” Mike’s saliva was thick and pooling in his mouth, it felt almost impossible to swallow. He had to be dreaming, this just didn’t make sense otherwise. He was just doing his friend a favor and now your breath was hot on his neck and his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

The second the two of you walked outside he got fidgety, like he was going to take off the second you let go of his hand. Frankly he was surprised you hadn’t let go of it the second you picked it up, he was dripping sweat from the moment he realized you were his date. He quickly made a mental note to send a letter to the company who made his preferred deodorant, the fact that he didn’t smell absolutely putrid spoke volumes on their product.

“So did you mean what you said inside? Because I’m perfectly okay with just going home.” 

“I meant it, don’t be so nervous.” You smiled back at him, handing him the keys to your car.

The tension was thick, his knuckles were white as he tried to keep his focus on the road ahead and making it back to your place safely and not the fingers drawing figures on his thigh as you spoke about something he couldn’t quite grasp. 

Your place wasn’t too far from the restaurant that Gia’s date had picked, that Mike was thankful for. The longer he had to endure the torture that was your fingers on this thighs, the less his ability to be a gentleman and control himself existed. If it was up to him, he’d probably just pulled over and fucked you in the backseat of your own car but it wasn’t. He was a gentleman, he’d just met you all of a few hours ago, he knew better.

“This is the place.” You smiled softly as he pulled into your driveway.

“It’s nice.” He stated, handing your car keys back to you and taking your hand. “Suits you.”

Mike’s eyes wandered the walls, taking in every aspect of you, as you led him through the house. It didn’t take him long to notice that you lived alone, another thing he was now thankful for. His fingers trailed the zipper of your dress as he stood behind you in your bedroom, his other hand rubbing your arm and leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“Are you going to take it off?” Your voice was shaky and quiet, for the first time tonight you were nervous. 

“And you thought I was the eager one.” He chuckled, tugging your hair back softly to give him just enough access to your face to make eye contact with you. “Do you get off on bringing strangers to your home and having them fuck you?”

A soft whimper escaped your lips, blessing the ears of the man behind you who responded with a groan. His lips made contact with your neck, biting and sucking at any of the skin he had access to. The hand that was holding your hair back made itself busy drawing the zipper of your dress further and further down until it couldn’t go any further, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. 

Mike detached himself from your neck and took a step back, briefly admiring how disheveled you looked despite still being fully dressed, he made a quick motion for you to turn around and you obliged almost immediately. If you got his dick any harder it might’ve fallen off before he ever got the chance to use it. 

He backed you into the bed, laying you down and sliding your dress off and into a pile on the floor. Another deep groan was emitted into the air as he took in the sight in front of him, you hadn’t worn a bra and the underwear you’d chosen left nothing to the imagination. Mike immediately started thanking whatever god was above for you and the experience he was about to have. 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Truthfully, you hadn’t planned on sleeping with anyone tonight but then you saw him and your entire plan was flipped upside down. You lied about your friend not going home with her date if you didn’t leave with him, you didn’t want him to think you were desperate but he knew now. The second he touched the zipper of your dress, anything left of your facade was gone. You needed him.

“If you weren’t so fucking wet I would’ve thought you were only doing me a favor.” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing his finger over your folds through your underwear. “ Or maybe you’re just a whore? Huh?”

“For you.” You choked out, words getting caught in your throat over his words. 

At the beginning of the night you would’ve placed money on the fact that he wasn’t capable of things like this, it was like another side of him had come out during the drive to your house. You weren’t complaining, his words were getting to you in a way you’d never experienced. 

“Yeah? For me? Mikey’s own personal whore.” He slipped your underwear to the side and slid his finger through your folds, collecting your juices and bringing them to his mouth. “You’re as sweet as you look, need a honey jar full of you.”

You cried out at him softly, trying to use anything you had to stop his teasing. He was winding you up but edging you right before you could pop, he could’ve said anything and you would’ve agreed just to get him to fuck you. Being this desperate for a man you hardly knew was an exhilarating experience. 

“Please, I need you.” You whined, grabbing at his shirt in a desperate plea. “Please.”

“Good job using your words, pretty girl.” Mike praised, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down, throwing them in the same pile as your dress.

His clothes soon joined yours on the floor, a small pout emerging when you realized you wouldn’t be able to suck him off, his eyes catching yours as he climbed up your body. He kissed his way up, biting occasionally. Fingers tracing your skin just as you had done to him earlier in the night, lighting a fire on your skin as they went. It was like his body was made to fit yours, like your souls had searched for each other through every lifetime and yet this was the first time they had met.

His lips finally met yours for the first time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away to breathily whisper something in your ear. You shook your head in agreement at whatever he said, as long as he kept touching you like that and making noises in your ear you’d agree to anything he said to you. 

Shaking your head yes was the best decision you’d made so far, you felt two fingers slip inside of you. Thrusting for a few moments before they were replaced by the tip of his cock, slowly pushing in as his mouth found one of your nipples. The gentle man you had once perceived had been replaced by a god who was hung like a horse, splitting you in half with the cock fit for a god.

“Fuck.” Mike moaned, tipping his head back when he bottomed out, taking your legs and placing them on his shoulders. “So good, pretty girl.”

Anything you had planned on responding with quickly dissipated the second he pulled out and thrusted back in, a low groan coming out insead. His fingers were digging into your thighs as he held them up where he wanted them, all you could hope for was the imprints bruising as a reminder that this actually happened. What hair that wasn’t sticking to his skin from the sweat covering it was dangling backwards freely, all his focus was on not cumming too soon and if he continued to look at you he definitely would.

Your eyes had glossed over a long time ago, tears streaming down the sides as a byproduct of the blissful state his cock had put you in, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets and your tits bouncing with each thrust. He was once again praying to every god that he would get to do this another time, then he could sear the image of you under him into his mind.

“Mike, Mikey I need..” You whined, the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, threatening to spill before you could even finish a coherent thought.

“C’mon pretty girl, you can do it, let it go.” He praised you, bringing his thumb down to your clit and drawing figure eights in time with his thrusts to help your orgasm spill over.

His words were the final piece in the puzzle, your orgasm hitting you soon after he spoke. Legs shaking, mind blowing, tears, and silent moans was all your body could do at the supernova your orgasm had proved to be. You’d never cum this hard before but if every orgasm after didn’t measure up, he had ruined you. 

“You did so good.” Was all you heard as you came down from your high, Mike’s hands soothed down your hair as he whispered into your ear. 

His thrusts continued at the same pace for only a few seconds before his hips stuttered and he painted your insides white. 

“I guess tonight wasn’t a total waste.” You joked quietly, turning to the side to smile at him as he laid down next to you. 

“We need to do this more often.”

#maddies fics #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt imagine #vanessa afton #steve raglan #fnaf mike #william afton #michael schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf 2023 #fnaf smut #fnaf

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 8)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

-

Now a nocturnal animal emerges into the daylight hours.

A week becomes two and your shoulders untense. It’s not something you notice at first because you’re used to an ever present strain between your shoulder blades and an ache in your jaw from grinding your teeth at night. Then a fortnight goes by without so much as a missive with your name on it floating across John’s desk or a stranger appearing in town after tracking you down, and you wonder if maybe the world really is big enough to hide in. 

It sure feels that way at times. The woods beyond the bounds of John’s property stretch out farther than the eye can see and even walking it feels like you could disappear into another realm. Old spruces shoot up high into the clouds, and deeper into the woods, huge rock formations grow more and more prominent as you near the mountains. John takes you through the woods on horseback, following the rough trails carved into the dirt by a century of wagons and carts using the same path. The footprints of a different time. 

Up in the trees, birds warble and chirp, talking to one another in songs that you’ve never heard before. A woodpecker drills into the side of a tree. Pinecones snap out of the upper branches and drop to the forest floor. 

There is only a single trail and it’s easy to lose. You grow a bit nervous when John takes you off the trail and deeper into the woods, but he does so with the confidence of a man that knows these woods like the back of his hand. You go quiet when he stops Buttercup to let a herd of deer wander by, the stragglers hurrying to catch up with the group, throwing the two of you nervous glances before they disappear into the thicket. 

“Should we be out this far?” you ask in a whisper, reluctant to disturb the silence. Though the woods are full of animals that bleat, chirp, chatter, and hoot, the sound of your own voice feels preternaturally loud and shrill. 

“We won’t get lost, darlin’. I know my way around,” John reassures you, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. These days, you hardly worry about tumbling off the horse. Not with him at your back anyway. 

“That wasn’t really my worry,” you mumble, trailing off.

“Then what’re you getting all worked up about?”

“Aren’t there wolves out here? Or bears?”

He snorts, the sound making you jolt. You don’t topple over because he has such a firm hold around your waist. “They don’t usually come this close to town. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That sounds like something mothers tell their children to stop them crying,” you say flatly. You draw your legs up automatically when John directs Buttercup through a shallow basin, a shortcut back home. It makes you anxious for a moment, but the water barely goes up to her ankles, so you relax when you realize that you’re in no danger of being swept away by the current.

“That doesn’t mean a bear or wolf can’t wander by, but it’s rare.”

“And there it is.”

You can feel the heat of his glower on the back of your head. “We could spend the night out here if you want to see for yourself.”

At that, you shut your mouth. Even if he were to prove his point, you have no interest in camping out in the woods now that you’ve become accustomed to the luxury of a soft bed. Granted that you’re forced to share that same bed, still you’ve never slept half as well as you do these days. You wake up rested after nine hours of blissful shut eye, a sleep so deep that your dreams only come in half-remembered flashes. Often they involve the man you wake up wrapped around, and for that you’re grateful that they remain submerged. 

A new desire has started to burrow its way into the back of your mind in recent days. It starts out as a thought so brief that you hardly notice it before it skitters away. 

And then it lingers. 

You wake up in the middle of the night hot, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and a fire burning in your loins, a red-hot coil wound around itself, fit to burst. Pulsating. At some point throughout the night, you must have thrown a leg around John’s waist because it rests there now, your hand planted in the middle of his chest and your sex all but rubbing up against his thigh. Under your hand, you can feel his heart pump strong and steady.

You hold very, very still, waiting for him to wake. But John sleeps on, his palm loose where it rests along the curve of your hip, fingers curling into the flesh of your backside. 

You can hardly look at him these days without shaking. You’ve come to fixate on the sway of his hips when he walks and the flecks of silver in his beard. The grooves in his weathered hands. The way your head fits in the palm of his hand when he cradles it to his chest. The fond glimmer in his eyes that shines the brightest when he puts his hat on your head and it slips past your eyes, too big for your head. 

When you tip it up in order to see, the folds around his eyes become more pronounced with the force of his smile.

“There you are, bug,” he says, taking the hat off your head to set it back on his and reeling you in for a kiss. 

Bug, love, honey, darling. The constant flux of endearments makes your head spin. John never calls you by the name on your marriage license. It’s like that name means nothing to him, cast away at the first opportunity and replaced by an endless stream of pet names.  

He hasn’t touched your sex since making you come on the porch swing the week before. He pulls you into a chaste embrace at night, the only evidence of his own desire being the stiff shaft nestled against the small of your back in the early morning hours, which he takes care of on his own in the bathroom downstairs after pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel robbed of something, though you don’t know quite what. 

You’re tempted to offer your help, but you don’t know exactly what that would entail. Inexperience and fear of rejection hold you back, stay your tongue. In the two weeks you’ve been married, he hasn’t once tried to pin you down and rut between your thighs like you expected and dreaded that very first night. 

Now that that time has passed, you don’t know how to initiate that moment again. 

John promises to teach you how to ride a horse. You can’t see a reason to protest, much to your chagrin. Despite your apprehensions, even you can’t deny that it would be a helpful skill. A train only goes one way after all, confined to a single track. A horse has no such laws to obey.

The thought stays nestled at the back of your mind as the days continue on.

You flounder around in the kitchen on the day that John invites his deputies over for supper. You’ve met the big one—Simon—now a small handful of times, each encounter marked by a silence that sucks the air out of the room when he turns his gaze on you and holds it. Perhaps you’ve simply ascribed too much importance to his person, given that every time you’ve seen him, your life has changed irrevocably. His presence is always followed by revelation it seems. The archangel of vicissitude. A harbinger of uncertain times.

The other two are new. John introduces you to them when you bring out the cutlery and crockery to set the table, and you nearly go cross-eyed when they reach across the table at the same time to offer their hands. You go to meet them halfway, but flinch when John brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he apologizes to you first before turning his glare on the other two. “That ain’t proper, boys. You wait for the lady to offer her hand first—you don’t treat a woman like she’s a mutt you’re teaching to shake.”

“Ah, sorry, hen,” the one on the left says, his voice a thick Scottish brogue like a purr. He’s possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever met, but there’s something dangerous and wild in his eyes. When he smiles, it curls up in a roguish sort of way that makes you falter, like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. “Dinnae mean to offend. No’ often we get ta meet such a pretty lady.” 

“Sorry—” the one on the right apologizes in a voice far more earnest than his counterpart’s. “And sorry for him. We think he was raised by wolves.”

“What’s yer excuse then?” the Scot sneers, knocking his knee into the other man’s under the table. “Dinnae see ye waitin’ for her fuckin’ hand like a gentleman—apologies, hen.”

“Christ,” John sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. 

Simon stays silent at the other end of the table, but the whole table jumps when he aims a kick at the Scott’s leg. He hisses and blurts out a word in a language you’ve never heard before, the word unmistakably vitriolic. He clutches at his shin and shoots a nasty look at Simon, though he doesn’t make a move to retaliate. 

“Name’s Kyle. Kyle Garrick,” the other introduces himself, and you finally reach across the table to offer your hand. His hand is warm against yours when he takes it, dark skin burnished in the candlelight. There’s something inviting about him; something about his eyes, so dark that you almost fall into them. Thick lips curl up into a smile. “And this here is Soap.”

You frown. “Soap?”

The man in question runs a hand down his front, emphasizing the cut of his shirt and the way it clings to the muscle of his chest. “‘Cause of how well I clean up.”

Simon barks out a laugh at that. The sound comes so sudden and sharp that it startles you. “You got it ‘cause your mum had to wash out your mouth with soap.”

It’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him and you can only stare wide-eyed at the lot of them as they dissolve into bickering and squabbling after that. It’s almost a relief to head back into the kitchen to finish cooking. 

Dinner is a similar messy affair, punctuated by the sound of Soap practically gnawing the meat off the bone. He only apologizes when John barks at him for making a mess, more food on the floor around him than on his plate, but his table manners don’t last very long. John doesn’t seem so much embarrassed on their behalf as annoyed, but it’s an annoyance that comes with an aftertaste of warmth. You can tell without asking that they’ve known each other for years. 

There’s room enough in you for food and envy. Back home you had friends. Never close friends, but acquaintances at least. Maids you could recognize by face. Small talk while ascending single-file up the servants’ staircase. Perhaps little more than that. You’d never been particularly close to any of them, but how could you? You worked from morning ‘till night, up and down the stairs, moving in the shadows. Never making too much noise lest your employers take notice of you. 

Like he did.

You shake it off. That’s no matter now. You’re hundreds of miles away and living under a new name. A married woman, to the county sheriff no less. It only sometimes hurts your heart to think of how lonely you’d been. 

When they leave, you stand at the window and watch as they disappear into the black of the night, Simon at the front of the pack, his torchlight leading the way. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt recedes the farther they get. 

His hands warm your shoulders. You don’t know how long he’s been there, standing behind you while you stared out the window after the boys. All you know is that his hands are warm, and the kiss he presses to the back of your head makes you arch back into him, unconsciously gravitating closer to him. Needing to be near. 

In bed, you curl your fingers against his chest. On a rough exhale, you wake. You dream still of something terrible that happens somewhere else, in another city, in an old life. His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep.

John takes you to the local seamstress to have you fitted for a pair of pants and suddenly you’re out of excuses. They fit you comfortably, like a second skin, and you find yourself pulling at the legs at your final fitting as if to stretch out the material. The seamstress nearly jabs you with a pin and glares up at you until you stop fidgeting. 

You come to terms with it when he brings you into the stables and makes you fetch the saddle from where it rests on its stand. It’s heavier than you expected. You stumble back over to where John now has Buttercup standing in the middle of the stable, holding her by the lead fixed to her bridle. 

“I don’t know if—” you start, trepidation climbing up your chest until it grips you by the throat. For as many times as you’ve ridden her, you’ve never done it alone. 

John fixes her lead to a post and walks over to you, taking the saddle from your hands and letting it drop to the ground. He cups your face in both hands to tilt your head up. “Hey, honey. We’re not doing much of anything today, alright? Just a walk around the paddock so you get used to sitting on Buttercup on your own. I’m not gonna smack her ass and send you down the trail at full tilt..”

That gets a laugh out of you. “You promise?”

He smiles. “Promise, darlin’.”

And he keeps it. The only thing you do that day is learn how to tack a horse and how to properly mount and dismount her. The latter part of the lesson is devoted to you trying to find your balance while John leads the two of you around the pen at a leisurely pace. He calms you down when he sees you grow too stiff, stopping to coo and rub your thigh until you gradually relax. It’s heartwarming until Buttercup begins to tense up too for a reason unbeknownst to you and you watch in righteous fury as John calms her down the same way.

John gets you a hat to keep the sun from beating down on you, but there’s little he can do about the soreness between your thighs and the stiffness in your legs the next day. All you can do is hiss and moan in pain, hobbling around the house until he forces you down into a chair and hikes up your dress in order to apply an arnica salve to your inner thighs. 

It’s a relief and an affront at the same time. The duality of man. The salve soothes much of the ache, but you twitch nervously around John for the rest of the day, the memory of him pinning you to the chair and forcibly spreading your thighs haunting you. The lingering ache in your core is just the salt in the wound. 

It rains another day. A light drizzle while the sun is still out.

Every day you sit and you think, will it be today? And then the wash basins are emptied out in the field, the horses are taken out to the paddock, you pin the laundry up on the line to dry, and John presses a farewell kiss to your forehead when he leaves you with Kate and nothing happens. Every inch of you waits for more, anticipates more. Throbs when he leaves you wanting, only a chaste kiss and a squeeze around your waist before he’s off. 

You can feel it coming to a head. An itch you can’t shake. 

That day comes with another ache you can’t shake. 

“Please,” you beg, clasping your hands in front of you. “One day of rest. That’s all I’m asking. I can’t do this anymore, John.”

John snaps the lead in his hands. “Let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight.”

You hang your head low on the march over to the stables, John taking up the rear like he expects you to bolt. An executioner’s walk. The thought of escape has never seemed further away—not even because of its feasibility, but because all you want to do is lie down and rest.

“You can quit your moping,” he says as you tack up Buttercup, a pout on your lips. “Got something special for you today.”

That makes you perk up, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t specify what that is. Anticipation mounts in you when he helps you up onto Buttercup and then climbs up behind you himself. He steers her away from the paddock and towards the trail leading into the woods, the sun at its zenith now, illuminating everything as far as the eye can see.

You’ve ridden this trail before. A week ago, with John at your back as he is now. Through the fields and over the hills until the trees start to number in the tens and then the hundreds, no clear delineation between plain and forest. Simply there and then everywhere.

By now, after hours of sun beating down on the path, the trail is mostly dry, yesterday’s rain long since having sunk into the earth. You think it’d still be a tough hike on foot, but on horseback you cover acres of land at a brisk pace, Buttercup hardly breaking a sweat. You cross paths with a small group traveling by horse and wagon, but John breaks off from the path not too long after that, steering Buttercup deeper into the wilderness, where the only gullies are the ones carved out by years and years of rainfall. 

You only see it when the land begins to dip and you’re forced to hold onto the horn and tighten your thighs around the fenders to keep steady. At the bottom of a hill, a small stream opens up into a larger river, narrowing out at the other end where the land rises again and the water can only trickle over the pebbly riverbed. On the other side, a rocky outcropping cuts the stream off from view.

“Is this where you used to come to bathe?” you ask, recalling an earlier conversation.

John sighs. “Thought I’d take you for a swim as a treat, but if you’d rather just tease me—”

“Well now, let’s not be hasty,” you say, already trying to dismount on your own, eyes glued on the stream glimmering in the sunlight. John chuckles, keeping you pressed to him until he guides Buttercup under a tree for shade and dismounts first, helping you down after him. 

All you want to do is wade in the stream up to your ankles, so that’s what you do. Boots kicked off, Buttercup relaxing in the shade of a tree, John standing by the water’s edge with his hands on his hips and watching you tiptoe over the smooth rocks below. You roll up your pant legs, but eventually you feel the ends grow damp as you venture farther out. At its deepest, you would probably sink up to your waist.

“Don’t you want to swim?” John asks from somewhere behind you.

You splash around a bit, kicking your feet through the water. “Hard to do that with clothes—”

When you turn back around to face him, your eyes dart down momentarily at the sight of skin before you squeak and whirl back around, sending up an arc of water. Twice now you’ve seen him naked. 

“You’ve no clothes on,” you state, bluntly enough that it almost sounds stupid. 

You hear the water splash and ripple when he takes his first step in. “Right—you better think about doing the same if you don’t want to ride home soaking wet.”

“I was perfectly fine just getting my feet wet,” you say indignantly.  

“We came out here to swim, not get your feet wet,” John laughs. You stiffen when his hand comes down on your shoulder, conscious of the fact that your husband is standing right behind you, entirely divested of his clothes. “So best get to steppin’.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says pityingly. “Yes, I can.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make your way back to shore, careful not to allow yourself a glimpse of him. Your boots are stacked beneath the shade of another tree, John’s clothes folded neatly beside them. You strip slowly, attentive to the world around you; though unlikely, it’s not impossible that someone might wander by. Your only consolation is that John is still within sight, though you keep your back to him because in recent days, you’ve developed a hunger for him that even now makes your stomach hurt.  

Though the air is warm, you shiver. When you turn around with your arms crossed over your breasts to hide them from sight, you find John wading in the river up to his waist. You’ve seen him like this once before, the hearty body of a man in his prime. Sturdy and strong. The hair on his chest is darker than that on his head, wet too from the dip he must have taken when your back was turned. His hair is slicked back too, a wet hand combing it back. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he calls, beckoning you forward with his hand.

The water is a cold shock when you step in past your ankles. Ice cold tendrils wrap up your legs, sucking the warmth from you. 

You suck in a soft breath when he pulls you into his arms and heaves you up, big hands gripping under your thighs. Your breasts press against the wet skin of his chest, nipples already pebbled. The river is deeper than you assumed; John pulls you deeper in until it pools around your waist and then your chest. Cold enough that you shiver until John dips his head down and the kiss he presses to your lips melts you from the inside out. 

You can’t escape the intimacy of water-slick skin. When John drags you up his chest, your nipples brush over his and the shudder that passes through you is violent, toe-curling. You know that he can feel the heat of your core even underwater. With your legs wound around his waist, every inch of you is plastered to his front. Even your fingers play with the ends of his hair, arms draped over his shoulders. You can’t look away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, breath hot on your face. “Eyes on me.”

As if you could look anywhere else. 

He reaches down under the water to readjust himself and you gasp when his shaft is suddenly right there, trapped between his belly and your heat. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to coitus, his glans nestled between your folds. You’d only have to shift slightly for him to slip right in. The thought makes your breath quicken. 

He doesn’t make a move to take you though, even knowing that he could. How easy it would be. How it’s due to him. Your husband that’s waited a fortnight to take you as his own. John kisses you until each slick pass of his lips grows sloppier, clumsier—his lips barely parting from yours before they’re on you again, rendering you a creature of base needs. 

But his hands don’t shift from your backside where he holds you in place. His fingers dig into the flesh hard enough to bruise, but they don’t move to part your folds to make room for his manhood. You expect him to—practically yearn for it and squeeze him around the neck all the harder when he subverts your expectations, doing no more than letting you grind your heat against the base of his shaft. 

“John—John, please,” you beg, mindless for what. You don’t know what you’re asking for. 

“What d’ya need, darlin’?” he asks into your mouth, stealing your answer with another kiss. 

You fall under the swell of another wave. When the root of his cock glides over your clit, your core clenches on nothing, a sob half-bitten off in your mouth, ripped from your chest. 

It doesn’t matter how close to him you get—he gives you nothing. The heat could very well burn you from the inside out. Cold water caresses your skin as it flows past, but the center of you runs so hot that you hardly notice it. 

When he hikes you higher up against his chest, you clench your fingers in his hair, whining when he takes your nipple into his mouth. Your gasp comes out sharp and hurt when the coarse bristles of his beard rub rough against your breast. He sucks at your breast tender at first, gentle, eyes half-lidded like his mind has gone somewhere else, but there’s a glint in his eye that grows wild and dark, that turns him rough. You don’t know what to do except shake and let him use you how he wants. 

Desperation nips at your heels, urging you up the length of him. If you had more nerve, you’d reach down and grasp him under the water, notch the head of his member against your sex and sink right down on him. You need him like you've never needed anything before. Every part of you aflame, searing hot under the sun at its highest point; right overhead, right on top of you. 

His teeth sink delicately into your areola, tongue lapping over your nipple to soothe the hurt, and suddenly, you break.

“Please—” you gasp, wrenching his mouth away from your breast and whimpering when he resists at first, glaring up at you like he might bite. “Please, John—I can’t take it. I need you.”

His eyes darken, the pupil swallowing everything up. “Need me where, wife? Here?”

A hand dips between your thighs, pointer finger gliding over your sex, plump with blood. So tender that your mouth hangs open on a whine when he touches you. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper, gaze swimming. 

John’s breath comes out in a harsh, ragged pant. Completely undone in a way you’ve never seen before. “Get out, darlin’. I’m taking you home. Gonna give you what you need.”

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