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#and i was like *in my head* dammit mother
rotisseries · 1 year
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p.s. the el hard times edit was almost a willel edit bc i feel like it sums up el's relationship with brenner And will's relationship with henry. I'M TIRED OF YOU!! STILL TIED TO ME!! but there aren't enough s4 will clips that were relevant bc they sidelined him and didn't let him do anything except be gay s4.. rip </3 perhaps i can make one after s5
OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO FUCKING REAL FOR THAT. JESUS. NO STOP WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THIS😭😭😭
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#guess who fucking fried 3 very fucking expensive machines today. me. i did#bc a fucking cabled decided to burn out and there was only one little symptom so i switched out the sensor head and inadvertently fried#another instrument. then when i was wait. hang on wtf happened here? and i was trouble shooting. i fried another one. so im down to one#machine. fucking holy christ. one mother fucking cable. a problem i cant fucking control and then i just fucking spred the problem#god dammit. which means i either have to do 20 additional days or we cut the number of reps to 7 or 8#and because of this. ive Disrupted the plans of 4 different labs bc it takes at least 3 months for them to do calibration#ugh. i was so angry. whatever. its fine. these things happen in labs and u kinda just have to deal with it. i dont really feel bad on a#personal level bc ive been working with these things for like 4 years and if i mishandled the problem something was pretty fucked up#bc ive fixed a lot of fucking problems on those machines. bleh. and as im like simmering with rage my family is texting eachother like#yayyy vacation soon ☺️#ugh. its just so frustrating bc i onlu had like 7 days left and i could have got thru all 10 reps. its gonna b maddening on one machine#ans ill have to do more when i fucking get back from vacation when i want it fucking done now but whatever ive bought#my fucking plane tickets and i leave in less than 2 weeks. plus ill get to spend at least one day at home#god im gonna be such a fucking bummer tho. im gonna get of the plane and my fam will b like how r u? and im gonna b like not fucking great#i am barely a functional person and im sure ill b so stressed abt thr fact i have to come back here that ill b on edge the whole time bc#thsts what happened over winter break. whatever. next weekend ill b fucking outta here for like 11 days#and just a few more months until i can leave for good. never walk into thst fucking building again. not that i have anything ready for thst#move. bc again. im barely a functional person#god. now i have to fucking ask for thr stupid bottom of the chamber for this last machine. i swear to christ if i have to fucking drive#down to [redacted] i fucking dont even kno#unrelated
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archivalacryptid · 1 year
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People that suggest meditation as a grounding technique for Intrusive thoughts: Go to Hell.
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beenbaanbuun · 2 months
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brothers best friend w/ yunho
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this isn’t proof read so sorry for any typos… i’m just too tired to do that right now 😓
you’ve been pummelling the door of your brothers apartment with the side of your fist from at least a couple of minutes now
whether he’s deciding to play a practical joke and leave you hanging is a mystery to you
you can only hope he somehow manages to grow up and let you in soon
it’s an emergency, and the strap of your overnight bag is digging into your shoulder rather painfully
“mingi, i know you’re in there,” you call as you slam the palm of your hand loudly against the wood, “let me in or i’ll tell mum you’re being a bitch!”
threats of your mother usually seem to work; it’s mingi’s fear of your younger sibling privilege, you suppose
he knows that no matter what, he’ll always be the one to blame since he’s older
a system you’ve been abusing for years, you have to admit
the door swings open after a few seconds, and you gear yourself up to give your big brother an earful for being a dick
but just as you open your mouth, you notice that the man that opened the door is in fact not mingi but his roommate and best friend instead
yunho
he’s leaning against the door frame, gaming headset around his neck and plaid pyjama pants hanging low over his hips
it would take a much stronger woman than you to avoid looking at his toned chest, so you let your eyes do a swoop over his smooth skin
“hey, kiddo,” you can hear the smirk in yunho’s voice, “what’s got you banging my door down at 10 minutes to midnight? you know my neighbours won’t appreciate this, right?”
you ignore him
“is my brother in?” yunho shakes his head before leaning himself against the door frame
the way he effortlessly towers over you even when he’s relaxed sends shivers right the way through you, all of them congregating at the apex of your thighs
trust you to be harbouring a debilitating crush on your brothers best friend…
“where is he then?” you urge
“with his latest conquest,” yunho just shrugs like it’s obvious
like you should know that your brother was busy sleeping around in your time of need
you’d gag if you didn’t have more important things on your mind; more important things like what the fuck you’re going to do now
“dammit,” you mutter before readjusting the strap of your overnight bag on your shoulder, “i was hoping he’d let me crash for the night…”
he snorts out a laugh, digging his tongue into the side of his cheek as he stares you down
“doesn’t the guy you’re fucking live like… 5 minutes away from here?”
yunho knows as well as anyone that you and taehyun are not fucking, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you just to see that angry look on your face
the way your forehead scrunches and your lips purse into a tiny little pout
holy fuck you’re adorable; what he wouldn’t do to just—
“me and tae fell out,” you spit, your voice muffled through your upset frown, “and we’re not fucking…”
yunho laughs, “not anymore, anyway.”
he dodges the kick you aim at his shins with ease, sliding to the side just in time for you to lose your balance and fall through the doorway
you catch yourself before you can faceplant in front of the man who had been single-handedly ruining your life since you first met him
god knows that the devilishly handsome man would never shut up about it if you tripped in front of him
“enjoy your trip?” he teases as he shuts the front door behind you, trapping you inside of his apartment
he makes a show of locking it before slipping the key into his pyjama pocket
it’s a clear show of dominance to let you know exactly who is in charge
you roll your eyes at him, letting him know that his performance is redundant; you’re in his apartment, of course he’s in charge
“mingi locks his door when he’s not here so you’ll have to sleep on the couch,” he points to the ratty leather thing that sits in the centre of the room
you grimace at the sight of it, knowing that this might just be the worst night sleep of your life
the pealing leather is bound to scratch at your skin, and you just know you’re going to have to peel your skin off of it when you wake up in the morning
you can’t help it when you groan in complaint
“or you can sleep in my bed,” yunho offers, that mischievous smile rising to his face again, “it’s warm and comfy; much nicer than that old thing.”
“are you just trying to get me into your bed?”
he scoffs, “i would dream of it, kid?”
he knows you hate that nickname… he says it with an arrogant look written all over his features
you want to punch that annoying hot smile right off of his annoyingly hot face, despite the fact that mingi would kill you
you want to sleep on the couch just to spite him, despite the fact that you know you’ll wake up feeling half dead
you want to leave and sleep on the cold, wet tarmac outside, despite the fact that that would be an even worse night
a deep breath of air fills your lungs and you let it out with a sigh
“i’ll sleep in your bed, but be warned; i carry pepper spray!”
again, yunho finds it a struggle to hold his laughter in
how can he when you’re so cute? so adorably naive with your little pout and your fucking pepper spray
you’re dumb to think that he can’t see the way you look at him; like he holds your entire world in the palms of his hands
if it weren’t for your brother, he might’ve done something by now
it’s hard to hit when the girl you so desperately want is your friends little sister
“i’m sure you do, sweetheart,” he hums out through his smile, “go get changed, alright? ill be in my room when you’re finished.”
you nod and drop your bag to the floor, your little hands immediately going to unzip it
he wonders what they might look like wrapped around his cock, your prettily manicured nails glittering as your fingers dance up and down his shaft
he looks away for the sake of his own sanity and slips his hands into his pockets in the hopes of hiding the tent that’s forming
god, he needs to get a grip
“bathrooms over there,” he clears his throat before continuing, “take your time; it’s not like i’m rushing to get to sleep or anything.”
and then he leaves you in the sheer hopes that turning his back on you and heading back to his PC will clear his head of all the disgusting thoughts he’s having
the gaming chair creeks under his weight as he flops down into it, slipping his headphones over his ears straight away
his finger moves over to his keyboard to unmute his discord and—
“i did not make us lose,” he hears the shrill screech of wooyoung, “if anything it’s san’s fault for not res-ing me! i was in need!”
“yeah and i had other priorities!” san scoffs, “jongho is a better player; obviously i’d res him first!”
“i can’t belie—”
“hey, yun,” jongho calls out over the argument, “i’m assuming the knocking wasn’t a mass murderer since you’re still alive.”
the other two shut up pretty quickly, both uttering their own cheerful greetings to yunho as if they weren’t at each others throats two seconds prior
yunho chuckles
“it was mingi’s sister,” he hums, “she’s in the area and needs a place to stay for the night.”
he’s met with a symphony of appreciative hums from the three of his friends; yunho had learnt a while back that he wasn’t alone in his feelings for her
“it’s so unfair that she’s off limits,” san sighs dreamily, “if i got my hands on her, even just for one night… i’d put those pretty lips to work, that’s for sure.”
san’s right, your lips are pretty; like two flower petals begging to be touched and appreciated
“sure, dude,” jongho interrupts, “her lips are pretty and all but have you seen her thighs? i’m pretty sure she could crush my skull with those things…”
“and you’d be into that?” san questions, a shocked laugh evident in his tone
“hey, don’t shame him,” wooyoung cuts in, “i’d love for a little brat like her to sit on my face; i could tease her for hours down there…”
there’s a swift knock on yunho’s bedroom door and he immediately presses deafen on his headset before sliding it off once more
his cheeks are covered in a deep red flush, his friends words echoing around his skull as he turns in his chair to watch you slip into the room
oh fuck
he can’t help the way his jaw drops, but then again, even the strongest man on the planet would have a difficult time
especially with you in those tiny little shorts
for someone who claims not to be fucking the guy you were supposed to be staying with, your outfit choice sure is… something
they’re thin and cover next to none of your thighs; jongho was right about them, yunho muses to himself
thick and plush and your flesh jiggles with every step you take towards his bed
he’d be happy to lie between them, he thinks, face in your pussy as you squeeze his head with those gorgeous limbs
he swallows the lump in his throat as you sit politely on his mattress
“i’m sorry about my shorts,” you mutter, a little self conscious with how intently yunho was staring at them, “i know they’re not really… appropriate.”
yunho shakes his head, dazed, confused and horny
“they’re perfect,” he mutters before he can realise what he’s saying, “i mean they’re fine… just fine…”
“they’re fine?” you confirm
he nods
“i mean they look comfy; that’s all that matters, right?” he shrugs nonchalantly as if he’s not thinking about how it would feel to rip the flimsy material off of you
he’s starting to regret asking you to share a bed with him
how the fuck he’s going to sleep with you laying next to him, he isn’t too sure
yunho takes a deep breath before clearing his throat
“if you want to head to sleep, i’ll be right there. i just want to play another round with the boys.”
you nod before crawling into his bed… crawling
he can’t even focus on how sweet you are when you’re obeying his every command
not when your ass is facing him and those tiny shorts are doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re clearly not wearing underwear beneath them
they cling to your sticky—holy fuck you’re wet?—core, the white material going translucent as your slick soaks into it
he can’t tear his eyes away from your hole, which he can fucking see clenching around nothing through those teeny-tiny shorts
it’s a good job he doesn’t have to; before he can lose his mind and rip those shorts from your body, you’re covering yourself with his thick quilt
the way you wrap yourself up and tuck the material between your knees would be cute if he hadn’t just had his soul destroyed by the sight of your pretty pussy
a few deep breaths, and he finds the courage to turn back around to his pc and press un-deafen once more
but even with the sounds of his friends chattering in the background, and his fingers eagerly dancing across his keyboard, he can’t help but let him mind wander to you
what you’d look like underneath him, your face all screwed up in pleasure as you beg him for more
how you’d sound when you beg him for more
how your fingers feel as they dig into the plane of his back
fuck, he’s in so deep
and the worst of it is, it’s not just fucking you that he’s daydreaming about
he wants to know what you’ll look like in the post sex glow, when he has you tucked into his chest so soft and gentle
he knows you’ll be beautiful; so soft and pliant in his arms
he’ll whisper sweet nothings to you just to see you smile and blush
he’ll press soft kisses to your lips just to make you squirm and giggle
god, he needs to be fucking sedated
a quick glance behind him lets him know that you’re asleep; good, he doesn’t want you to hear what he has to say next
“guys,” he helplessly calls out, “what the fuck am i supposed to do?”
“what do you mean?” jongho asks, “is this about mini mingi?”
mini mingi… you couldn’t be further from your brother in yunho’s eyes
he doesn’t want to fuck mingi into the sheets before helplessly confessing his love to him
“yes, this is about her,” yunho relents, “what the fuck am i supposed to do when she’s explicitly off limits?”
“fuck her,” wooyoung says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “what mingi doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“he’s my best friend,” yunho groans, sounding pathetic even to his own admission
“okay and?” wooyoung scoffs
yunho slams his head down on the desk in exasperation
it’s soft enough to not make too loud of a noise; he doesn’t want to wake you up, after all
but it’s also hard enough to let the headset slip loose from his ears
and he hears it
something that makes him perk up and rip his headset off for what seems like the hundredth time that night
no… it can’t be
“yunho…”
your voice is small from the other side of the room, but he hears it as if it’s clear as day
you moaned his name
“yunho, need it,” you whine again, every so slightly louder this time
yunho gulps as he spins his chair around to see you, jaw slack, face screwed up and hips bucking into his quilt that you’d secured between your legs
he freezes
“yuyu,” you mewl
yunho can’t help the involuntary groan that comes from his lips
it’s now or never, he decides
he shuts off his pc, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends—they’d understand—and takes a second to compose himself
sweaty palms rub against the material of his plaid pants as he rises from his seat and takes a few tentative steps towards the bed
the floorboards creek, but it doesn’t wake you
“yu,” your voice is so sweet, he thinks to himself as he comes to a stop by the bed
a hand on your shoulder shakes your body awake, and before yunho knows it, you’re staring up at him with your big wide eyes
fuck, he’s going to destroy you
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girlrotterr · 3 months
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Ultraviolence.
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farm!ellie x fem!reader TW!: references to alcohol and substance abuse, along with instances of emotional and verbal abuse. Summary: Years after returning from Seattle, you and Ellie chose to adopt a baby, hoping to rebuild your lives after the traumatic events. However, several months later, Ellie began struggling emotionally, haunted by her past, expressing her pain through cold and distant behavior. a/n: AHHH!! soo excited to finally share this!! lmk if you angels would like a pt 2!
*⁀➷read part 2!
───── ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ ─────
The silence of the house was abruptly broken by a cry that echoed through every corner. It was a sound you recognized instantly, a heart-wrenching feeling that never failed to make your chest tighten. Those cries belonged to your child. 
As you stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing away residues of dinner from the white porcelain plates – the very ones Ellie had lovingly chosen for you – memories flooded your mind. Each sponge stroke brought back moments shared with Ellie, her attention to detail in every aspect of your life together.
The kitchen, once a place of laughter and shared meals, now felt empty. The soft glow of the overhead light cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the solitude that enveloped you. How you longed for Ellie's presence, her warmth filling the space with love and comfort.
Yet, she wasn't physically absent.
She simply wasn't present.
"Go check on him," ellie muttered rudely, not even looking in your direction.
"Already on it," you replied, setting the plate down and drying your hands on a nearby cloth. 
Making your way upstairs, the cries of your child grew louder as you approached his door. Your heart ached as you recognized them all too well. Taking a deep breath, you knocked and opened the door.
Before you could utter a word, he began pouring out his troubles. He knew it was you even before the door opened, aware that you were the only one who came to check on him. His other mom…hadn't done so in a long time.
He was sobbing into his teddy bear, his red and puffy eyes avoiding your gaze.
"Why is my mommy like that?" he asked, tears staining his teddy bear. "Why is she not playing with me? Does she not love me anymore?"
Closing the door gently behind you, you settled on his bed. His voice choked with emotion, he questioned why his mother seemed distant.
"Oh honey, she loves you.” you tried soothing by rubbing his back, “she’s just… been busy, but soon enough, she'll play with you again, okay? I'll talk to her.." you assured, pulling him into your arms.
"Promise?" This time he raised his head to look at you with those wet eyes. You'd been playing the mother role for the past half a year now. How many times had you made that promise to him? 
"Pinky promise," you affirmed, feeling the weight of your words as you made yet another pledge to ease his worries.
"Thank you mama.."  He smiled weakly, clinging to you with a sense of reassurance. 
A voice in the background called your name – Ellie.
Abruptly, the heavy thuds of footsteps echoed up the stairs, her sharp voice vibrating through the silence of the hallway. 
"What are you doing?!" she snapped, her tone laced with irritation as she barged into the room, a cigarette dangling from her fingers.
"What the fuck are you staring at?" Ellie snarked,  her words cutting through the air. Her cold glare pierced through you. "Kid, go somewhere else."
As Ellie's coldness unfolded, you began to bite the inside of your cheek, a surge of anger towards her lack of empathy. The lack of interest she showed towards everyone's feelings aggravated you, you were growing exhausted. 
"Stop it.” you intervened, hoping to convey to Ellie the need for a gentler approach toward the child. As expected, Ellie brushed off your attempt, a complete disregard for how her words affected the child.
"I said fucking go!" Ellie yelled.
Your child, tears swelling, quickly left the room, the echoes of his sniffles fading behind him. Dammit, Ellie...
You shoot her a glare filled with frustration, immediately getting up to exit the room. However, Ellie quickly grabbed your arm, her grip tight and nails digging into your flesh, causing you to wince and forcefully move toward her.
"Where the fuck are you going?" she snarled.
"Argh- Ellie, I'm not.. dealing with you right now-" you remarked..
Ellie tugged your arm harshly, her stare growing more aggravated. The scent of cigarettes lingering, the scent so familiar that you had become numb to it. This was the only time Ellie would even attempt to touch you, always using it to assert her control. In all other instances, you existed as nothing, always unnoticed.
“You don’t get to decide that.” She released your arm, shutting the door firmly and positioning herself in front of it to ensure you couldn't leave. Taking another drag from her cigarette, she exhaled the smoke.
Maintaining your glare, you scoffed and went to open the window, refusing to let the smell of cigarettes fill your child's room. 
"What the fuckk are you doing?" Ellie asked, displaying no intention of stopping you, her annoyance being clear. She didn't bother pretending. 
“What does it fucking look like?” you snapped, not bothering to turn and face her. You hated it when she tried irritating you. 
Instead, your focus drifted toward the view outside the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky with hues of warm gold and soft pink, casting a gentle glow. The fields surrounding the farmhouse with lively flowers, their petals swaying in the evening breeze.
The farmhouse itself stood as a sturdy, its walls covered with trailing vines of ivy. In the distance, you could hear the faint sound of cows softly in the fields. 
Ellie remained silent, simply taking another prolonged drag of her cigarette. She didn't spare the time to respond to your snarky remarks.
“..he wanted to play with you today,” you mentioned, leaning your head against the window, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt. “He thinks you don’t love him.”
It had become routine for Ellie to try and get any information about what your kid shared. His troubles and worries seemed to be a curiosity for her. You never questioned it, always holding onto the hope that, in some part of her, she still truly cared.
"So?" she replied nonchalantly, walking over to you and flicking her cigarette out the window. "What's one of his little feelings to me? He's too attached anyway. It'd be good for him if I ignored him for a while." 
Ellie's gaze drifted toward the window, her eyes captivated by the familiar view. The  golden glow over the farmstead, a sight she had always cherished. It was one of the main reasons she had chosen this farmhouse for her family to live in. 
You gazed at Ellie, taking in her features. Her heavy bags from the countless sleepless nights on the couch, her once-soft pink lips now only meeting the cold bottles of alcohol she consumed in the dead of night.
“He’s not the only one who feels that way..” You remarked, still staring at her, hoping that her emerald eyes would meet yours.
Ellie's heart sank, a flicker of emotion appearing on her face.
"Shut up," she muttered coldly. She didn't bother turning to look at you; your words had clearly affected her. 
"I don't want to hear you talk. I'll do whatever I want. If I don't feel like playing with him, then I fucking won't."
She stormed off, and the moment of silence shattered. Her heavy footsteps descended the stairs. 
Without a moment's hesitation, you rushed out of your son's room, your only focus being to find him. You swiftly walked down the hallway, your pace quickening. Leaving him alone, particularly when upset, was something you hated. As you walked down the hallway…
There he was. 
In the bathroom, seated on the black and white tiled floor, clutching his teddy bear, with his face buried into his knees and headphones covering his ears.
He didn't want to witness his mothers arguing. He understood that whenever Ellie interrupted your time together, it signaled something bad. 
You observed him from the doorway painfully knowing that he didn't deserve this, enduring the harsh environment that the house had become. It pained your heart to see that he had developed coping mechanisms for these moments.
He glanced up at you, his eyes red from crying.
You gave him a soft smile, walking over and lifting him into your arms, gently wiping away the tears from his face. “I’m sorry honey, mommy needed to tell me something-”
“I know,” he said softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. He already knew all your apologies.
You kissed the top of his head, tenderly stroking his hair and swaying side to side. Your mind raced, searching for ways to lift his spirits and make up for Ellie's behavior.
“Hey, why don’t we-”
"Mama... I’m tired," he interrupted, his gaze staring off as if he was drifting from this moment. It wasn’t just physical fatigue; he was tired of it all, exhausted from feeling this way.
You nodded gently. “Okay, let’s head to bed then…”
You walked over to the sink, sitting him on the nearby stool where you usually did to brush his little teeth. The tap gushed water as you applied toothpaste to his green toothbrush covered in tiny dinosaurs, a choice Ellie had insisted upon a while back. You remember her begs of "pleaseee!!" throughout the shopping trip.
With the toothbrush in hand, you gently brushed his teeth, being careful not to hurt his sensitive gums.
“Okay, now you can spit.”
Ptui!
“All clean, mama!” he exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together and flashing you his newly cleaned smile.
You leaned down, planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Good job, honey!”
He carefully climbed down from the stool, making his way towards your bedroom. Sleeping with you always made him feel safe, and he eagerly headed for the bed, emitting little grunts of tiredness along the way.
Finally settling onto the bed, he lay down next to his teddy bear, giving it a small pat.
“Mama will join you after she’s done cleaning, okay?” you assured him, tucking him into his space-themed blanket. The blanket, a dark blue adorned with various planets and stars, was one of his favorites.
It was a gift from from grandpa Joel, who had been thrilled to learn about your and Ellie's news of starting a family. He couldn't contain his excitement, bombarding Ellie with endless parenting tips and even purchasing books on child development in preparation.
Joel never got to meet him. 
“Okay...” he said softly, turning away as you walked towards the door. You stared at his back, an ache overwhelming your thoughts, and all you could think about was saying, "I’m sorry." Though you knew you weren’t responsible for Ellie's behavior, you felt like you owed it to him.
You and Ellie were eagerly excited on the journey to adopt a child together, ready to try again. Jackson had many kids in need of a loving home. When you adopted your kid, you promised him a life filled with love and joy, but that promise crumbled far too quickly. 
You stepped out of the room and closed the door behind you.
Heading downstairs, you found Ellie sitting on the couch, smoking a joint and watching Breaking Bad, an episode she had already seen twice.
Resuming your routine, you began cleaning up the kitchen. Drying dishes, sweeping the floor, and wiping the countertops. All tasks you were now accustomed to doing alone.
 Ellie gradually stopped helping, a gradual drift. The same snarky excuses: “I’m too fucking tired” or “I have some work to finish up.” Eventually, she left you alone in the silent kitchen, where everything felt still.
“Goodnight,” you said, looking towards Ellie as you headed towards the stairs.
Silence.
Ellie remained motionless on the couch, smoking her joint and staring blankly at the TV. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, trying to detach herself from the world.
You took a deep breath, attempting to control your emotions and suppress the ache that surfaced every time she responded with silence. Placing your foot on the first step, you began to ascend the stairs.
"C'mere,” Ellie said, actually looking at you for once.
Your heart raced at her sudden attention, her piercing gaze catching you off guard. You walked over to her, standing in front of her. Up close, you couldn't ignore the mess she appeared to be. Her eyes were puffy and red, a foolish smirk plastered across her face.
“c’meree..” she said, motioning you to come closer. 
Ellie brought the joint to her lips, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke right into your face, giggling at how it was causing you to cough. 
She started laughing, “you look stupid.”
Irritated, you smacked the joint out of her hand. Causing ellie to jolt at the sudden movement. 
“Be fucking stupid and pick it up,” you snarled, glaring at her, your eyes piercing through her.
Ellie simply looked at you, no words, no movement, her gaze fixated on you. You couldn’t decipher the emotion behind her gaze there were thoughts behind those eyes, but you couldn’t recognize them.
Scoffing, you turned away, no longer wanting to be near her. Heading upstairs, you headed straight for the bathroom. Closing the door behind you, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears welled up, but you refused to let them fall. I need to be strong..she can’t..can’t win…
You couldn't help but feel stupid. Stupid for thinking she would offer you even a shred of affection. Her undivided attention, a drop of care.
Turning on the faucet, you splashed water on your face, feeling its cool touch soothe your heated skin. It was as if the water washed away the tension, calming your mind. Each droplet felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, easing the ache you carried.
Taking a deep sigh, you began your nightly routine, another task you were accustomed to doing alone.
Slowly opening the door to your bedroom, you found your child fast asleep, clutching his teddy bear tightly in his arms and cocooned in his blanket. His gentle breaths filled the room with a sense of tranquility, a small smile gracing his lips as he slept peacefully.
In that moment, he appeared like a peaceful, angelic child, as if he were innocent and free from life's worries.
Closing the door behind you, you approached the bed, gently laying beside him, fingers caressing his soft hair, humming a melody –a melody Ellie used to sing to you back then. Never missing a chance to soothe you with her singing whenever you couldn’t sleep. 
He appeared so innocent, carrying that light within him. The idea of him being exposed to Ellie's behavior filled you with guilt. He was the reason you tolerated Ellie, not demanding for more.
You had an urge to fight for his safety and his right to happiness. All he deserved was love and affection, and ellie failed to provide it.
Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you closed your eyes, letting sleep envelop you as you tried to quiet the endless thoughts swirling in your mind.
Thud.
Sometime later in the night, you heard Ellie stumbling her way up the stairs. Her movements were unsteady, the effects of alcohol. It seemed like she hadn't slept at all. The only evidence of her rest was the blanket and pillow on the couch.
You heard the sound of ellie turning the doorknob and entering the room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The room filled with the sound of Ellie rummaging through drawers and opening closets. You had no idea what she was looking for, but she appeared determined to find it.
You tried to catch a glimpse of Ellie in the darkened room. Your eyes adjusted, and you could make out the outline of her figure as she searched. She stood there in a tank top and boxers, her arms revealing prominent veins, and her hair ruffled messily around her face.
“El’s?..” 
Startled, she jumped and stopped her search, clearly taken aback by the sudden sound of your voice. She turned around with a scowl, not bothering to whisper back.
“What?” she snapped, clearly annoyed.
"What're you… doing?" you asked sleepily, being awoken by her rummaging. 
"Nothing," Ellie replied with a heavy sigh "Go back to sleep."
You looked into her eyes, your eyes glistening in the gentle moonlight. 
Ellie was startled for a moment at the sight of the eyes that met her. But snapped herself back into reality.
"Don't… give me that look," she muttered before turning around and going back to rummaging through the drawers.
You gently extended your hand towards Ellie, wanting her to sleep with you. Your fingers moved slowly, reaching out for hers. 
She paused, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a sharp inhale of air. She sighed and then looked at you. She didn't pull away from your touch, her demeanor appearing softer as if she was trying to resist you.
"No," 
You stayed silent at her response, silently hoping for her to change her answer.
"I said No. Go… back to sleep." She tried to say firmly but her tone was softer now.
You turned away from Ellie, silently acknowledging her rejection. Each time your attempts were turned down, the familiar ache grew duller, as if numbed. You wrapped your arm around your child, closing your eyes in an attempt to drift back into sleep.
Your child's peaceful breathing filled the room, a comforting reminder of his presence. Though still awake, you could hear Ellie's silent breaths nearby. She lingered by the bed, her presence still even in the darkness. It felt as if she was trying to find a way to be near you without you knowing. 
You resembled an angel in the soft moonlight, your skin radiant. Ellie couldn't help but admire you, considering you the most beautiful sight she had ever seen—as if you were kissed by the moon. 
The night was warm, the gentle wind gentle and comforting. In this moment, you hoped to never wake up. 
Your soft hair laid on the pillow like soft and silky thread. Your gentle breathing was soothing. Your body looked like a painting created by heaven itself. You were its beautiful muse and the moon was the painter showing its admiration.
Ellie couldn't help but gaze at you, her eyes lingering on your lips for a moment longer than usual. She then looked down at your child, peacefully nestled with you For an instant, a longing for love stirred within her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a very long time. It reminded her of the days when you both were deeply in love.
Your body was so peaceful, ellie found herself entranced, her eyes tracing every curve and line. Ellie felt an overwhelming desire to simply…admire you, to preserve your presence. 
Without a second thought, Ellie found herself slowly lying down beside you, her body acting with impulse. The comfort of the bed and the softness of the cotton sheets gave her a warmth that she had long forgotten.
She pressed her body as close as she could get it against yours. Her hands folded under her chin, as if she was too afraid to touch you. 
She found herself lost, aching for a connection she feared to ignite. 
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wardenparker · 3 months
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Congratulations on the incredible milestone Connie!!! You are amazing ✨ I would love to request -“Put me down!” With either Dave York or Oberyn Martell or Javier Peña please 🥰
Oberyn Martell. 1,319 words. "Put me down!" (Warnings: mentions of sex work, arguing as foreplay) Co-written with @absurdthirst
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"Put me down!" Beating on his back does you no good as the damnably stubborn and terribly broad man has you thrown over his shoulder on his way through the halls of the palace. The whole morning was an uproar, then this presentation at the afternoon meal and suddenly you’re being carried off by the prince.
Oberyn chuckles and reaches up with the hand not banded around the back of your knees and smacks your ass sharply, pleased that you are no longer wearing the sufferable undergarments that you had on when you arrived. "When you are in my bed, where you belong." He tells you, after your screech of surprises bounces off the stone walls.
“I can walk, dammit!” There’s no guarantee that you’ll walk in the direction he wants you to, of course. But you do have working legs and this whole charade is very akin to stealing a maiden off of a battlefield.
He caresses your ass and chuckles again. “But I would prefer to know you will be in my bed, Dove.” He coos, smirking to himself when you wiggle against his palm.
“Then you ought to have asked,” you hiss, doing your very best to get out of his grip even knowing you’ll fall to the floor when you do. “Rather than commanding.”
“I do not ask.” He reminds you, his tone light and playful. “You should know that by now.”
He usually does not need to ask. You know that. The prince is handsome, charming, and seductive in innumerable ways. Typically, all he has to do is smile and all potential lovers melt. It isn’t that you don’t find Prince Oberyn attractive — after all you have eyes — it’s that you don’t take well to having your life decided for you. “Then you’re a brute,” you decide with finality.
Oberyn hisses, annoyance making him quicken his steps until he is bursting through the door of his large chambers and dumping you in the middle of a bed large enough to hold several grown men. “Only when fighting, my salty Dove.”
“Why me?” It is a demand of your own, as you struggle to maintain any kind of dignity while being thrown backward and bouncing in a highly unbecoming way.
“You would rather be at the whorehouse your father was going to sell you to?” Oberyn snorts as he stares down at you. “I assure you; they would not be a kind as I am.”
“The—what?” Your eyes blow wide, mouth falling open in horror as you stare up at him. This is the first you’re hearing of any whorehouse and you can feel all the blood drain from your face from the shock.
Oberyn tilts his head, sure that you had been made aware of the circumstances of your arrival to his household. “Your father could not cover his debts.” He informs you. “He was at the whorehouse in Braavos, attempting to sell you to them, sight unseen.” He shrugs. “I paid for you instead.”
“You…” There is not, unfortunately, any doubt in your mind that he is telling the truth. Your father is an insensitive man who outlived his wife and was burdened with many children. As the youngest girl, you are essentially useless to him. A fact that you have been told many times before. Too high born to be able to find work but low enough that the absence of a dowry means you will never be married, apparently this is the solution that your horrible father decided on instead. To sell his daughter for her body. Your mother would be absolutely horrified. “I hope you did not overpay.” Is what you say finally, when you can shake off the cloud of disbelief and dismay.
“I have yet to determine the value of the purchase.” He is joking, not liking the look of horror and sorrow on your face. “You will not be mistreated. Or forced.” He adds. “I do not enjoy fighting and fucking at the same time.”
“That makes you more civilized than most men,” you huff, sitting up on the large mattress and trying to get a hold of your composure. “Even if you do purchase and transport women like a side of beef.”
Oberyn snorts and shakes his head, admiring your spirit. “You will do fine here.” He predicts. “Though you should wear less.” He hums. “Sunspear is hotter than your province.”
Of course he wants you to wear less. That would have made you laugh if you weren’t so distraught. Instead you swallow your pride for a mere few seconds and look up at the prince. “What will you do with me if I refuse to come to your bed?”
“Then you will sleep in a very large bed by yourself while I find my pleasure elsewhere.” Oberyn smirks. “Though you will be welcome to join. I know my lover will find you exquisite.”
The second prince of Dorne’s appetite being legendary, you tilt your head at his choice of words. “I was under the impression you never have just one lover.”
“There are lovers and then there is Ellaria.” He explains. “My paramour. Mother to four of my girls.”
“The woman who does not want to be princess.” Nodding slowly, you try to sit up again and end up feeling very off kilter. “I have heard of her.”
“We have others in our bed.” He explains. “She is happy to have others, men and women. Finding pleasure with me and on her own.”
“So you…will not force me?” The idea seems unfathomable, since the prince literally bought and paid for you. But so far he has not lied. That you know of. “Truly?”
“I would kill any man that forced my daughters, if they did not kill him themselves.” He rationalizes. “After I separate his cock from his body.” He shrugs. “Why would I let them believe it is acceptable that I force someone?”
“My father has daughters and look what he did.” Shifting to the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang over and cover them with your skirts while you try to gather your thoughts. “Very well.” After a few long moments of silence, you press out a sigh. “I suppose this is where I live now, so…would you be kind enough to show me to my quarters without hoisting me like a sack of grain?”
“Dove, you are sitting in your chamber.” Oberyn chuckles and gestures around. “Your trunks will be delivered as soon as they arrive. I made your father have all your things packed.”
“But this is your chamber.”
“Very astute, my lovely girl.” He winks at you and strolls over to a bowl full of nuts and berries. “I will not force you to take my cock, but you will stay here and become close with me and my paramour.”
“I will have no privacy?” A very well-appointed prison, it sounds like. Although you cannot complain about the view.
“You wish to sleep elsewhere?” He asks, surprised that you would. Most would be thrilled to share a chamber with him.
Realizing from his surprise that you might be the first proposed lover to ever ask for such a thing, you sink into yourself a little. “I simply wish to have a choice,” you tell him honestly.
“Sleep wherever you choose.” Oberyn shrugs after a moment and pops another mouthful of nuts into his mouth. “It does not matter to me.”
“In that case?” For the first time since this all began, you feel yourself begin to relax slightly. “This may not be such an arduous arrangement for either of us after all.”
Oberyn lifts and brow and smirks, aware – even if you aren’t – that you will fall into his bed on your own accord within the week. He doesn’t voice that, just chews on his snack and admires the beauty of the woman he had bought.
______
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intoxicated-chan · 9 months
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Be With Me
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Robb Stark x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ When Robb over hears of your potential marriage, he cannot stand the idea of loosing you to some random lord.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Be with Me” by Ramin Djawadi. It was heavily inspired by the cave scene with Jon and Yigrette. P.S… IM BACK!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, sexual content, swearing, injuries, mentions of death, oral (male receiving), discussion of marriage…
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(I’m saying it again! This was heavily inspired by the cave scene that involved Jon and Yigrette!!)
You walk out of the medic tent with a limp, It’s more than obvious that you were injured, and you feel the stares from other soldiers as your eyes are narrowed.
Robb caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to make you turn around, “What was that?” Robb immediately said, “You thought it best to throw yourself into a fight?”
“A sword was coming from behind, you were too bothered to even notice.” You shake his hand off your shoulder and continue walking.
Robb grumbles a couple of words before speeding up to catch you, “I saved your life.” He piped up.
“No, I did.” You corrected him, you kept your eyes forward as you walked to your tent, “If I didn’t throw myself into the battle… You know I’d die for you.”
It makes Robb scoff rather loudly, ignoring your last words, “Let’s say you saved me. What about the other time or the other one?” Robb lifts an eyebrow, “You still owe me two more.”
“I owe you quite a lot, my lord.” You tell him, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check the horses.”
He grabs your cloak tightly and pulls you back, nearly making you fall to the ground. You look up at him confused and angry.
He suddenly snatches your sword out of your scabbard, “I’ll take your sword as payment.” He then scurries away, you can hear him laughing.
“W-What?” You stand shocked for a moment before realizing what is happening, “Robb! Come back here, dammit!” You shout, chasing after him, “Robb fucking Stark! Give me my sword!”
You run after him, tumbling on a few rocks but don’t fall… Somehow. As much as you’re a fighter, Robb was a runner.
He ran so easily and didn’t take a second to look back and stop to give you some kind of better start.
“If you want it back, you’ll have to steal it back!” He runs from the camp and into a random cave. A random cave to you. You didn’t know the North like he did.
The cave is heated by a natural hot spring, which forms a waterfall and a pool. The rocks glistening from the humidity from the water and the light shining through.
Robb sets his sword against the rocks and begins to undo his armor. He starts with his gloves, crumbling them up and tossing them besides the sword.
Your peer your head into the cave, you rush into the cave when hear him, “Seven fucking hells, Robb-!” You loudly shout, but stop in your tracks.
“I heard from my mother that you were supposed to marry some random Lord.” He spoke with a hint of venom in his voice, he pulls off his brown leather boots, “Which means you’re a maiden.”
You choke on your words as you feel your face become warm at his bluntness.
He unties and unbuttons his armor, setting it down carefully, “I always wanted to beat the lord dead, just imagining you in his grasp made me feel so angry.”
Robb turns his back to your as his arms cross and grab the hem of his dirty shirt, he’s swift and impatient, tearing free from the constraints of fighting and riding.
His hands come to the strings of his breeches, “I wanted to be the one to marry you… To kiss you…” Until his breeches drop to the ground. He steps out of them, “To love you…”
Robb turns back to you, he is completely bare in front of you. You could see light bruises and scrapes on his body but little scars. They were faded but still there, it added to his muscular body. He was so beautiful… So perfect… So flawless…
Your eyes flicker around the cave and your eyes only set sights on him once. They move to the ground and you hear his soft steps against the wet stone.
He slowly closes the space in between you both until his face his near yours.
You feel Robb’s breath, one of his hands comes to your cheeks and cups it. But when he leans into you for a kiss, you pull back.
You swallow thickly and turn your head, “We shouldn’t, Robb.” You mumble under your breath, “We can’t be doing this.”
“Then look me in the eyes and say it. Tell me that you don’t want to go any further.” He says, and he slowly turns his head to eventually look at him, “Go on, tell me.”
You knew what was waiting for you back at home, you knew that the second you stepped foot back into your home, your life would be over, even more if your parents found out.
“Do you want to marry that lord?” Robb whispers in your ear, “Do you want a marry a man with selfish desires?” You could hear the pain in his voice, “Because my heart would not stand the idea of it… My heart is yours, it has been from the start, ever since your mother met mine, ever since you watched me train that day. Do you feel as I do?”
“I do.” You shakily answer him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close and then you feel his lips on yours.
As your eyes shut and kiss him, you can feel yourself crying. You don’t know but he sees it, he does his best to keep you distracted and focused on him.
But you seem to have other ideas…
Once you manage to calm down and enjoy the kiss for a few more minutes, taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath before returning… Your hands move down his body and you slowly begin to kneel, planting kisses down his chest.
Robb chuckles, “Come back up, I wanna-” A sudden moan leaves his mouth when he feels your mouth wrap around his hard cock.
He throws his head back and allows himself to moan loudly. He was confined in the cave, just with you and no one else to see or hear. He closes his eyes and his hand comes to your head to move faster.
“F-Fuck!” His voice cracks as he curses, “H-How are you so-” He grunts and hisses, watching you close as you get him off.
Moments later, Robb is lying on the warm stone ground with you by his side… His fingers graze over your skin as he listens to the water pouring, feeling the warmth coming from the hot spring beside them.
Robb looks down at you with a grin, “How did you know to do that?” He questions you with an eyebrow raised.
You shrug, “I didn't learn it from anyone, I just wanted to. You looked like you enjoyed it.” You drag your nails over his chest.
“Surely there must’ve been a man you practice with.” Robb sits up, he’s genuinely curious but still playful, “Was it Theon? Or Jon?”
You swat at his leg and he snickers in response, “I swear, Robb. There wasn’t any other man.”
“So you are a maiden or were.” Robb stands and grabs your hand to help you up, “Join me, would you?” You didn’t need to say anything, he could see the answer in your eyes.
He leads you into the hot spring, feeling the warm water make contact with your skin. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest.
“They may be looking for us.” You tell him, unsure what to do now as you are held in his arms.
“I know.” Robb huffs as he rubs your back, “But let’s stay for a little longer…. I don’t wish to leave.” He holds you even tighter and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I do not wish to lose you once this is all over.”
“I… I’m sure I can convince my parents somehow. My mother could easily be swayed, but my father-”
“I’ll deal with him.” Robb interrupts you, “I’ll talk to my mother about it. There’s no way I cannot lose you to that man.”
Robb then moves to cup your face, swiping his thumb over his cheek, “Let’s not leave for a little longer.” He pulls you into another kiss, adjusting you comfortably on his lap.
You shudder and shiver, feeling his cock enter once more, “Don’t let me go.” You say to him, your hands hold grab his shoulders, keeping yourself up.
Once he was sheathed inside of you, Robb finally answers, “There’s no way I’ll let you go. Even if they try to pry my dead body off you, I’ll never let you go.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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a-fandom-reimagined · 6 months
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< PREVIOUS PART
"Diana, you have exhausted valuable resources and the skills of our healers for one woman. To what end? She will die anyway. Maybe not today or tomorrow. Maybe not a year from now or ten but she will die. You're just delaying the inevitable."
Diana had few moments in her life where she could truthfully say she was angry with her mother. But in that moment she almost hated her. The Amazons were supposed to be messengers of peace and truth and justice. What happened to her mother while she was away? What happened to the fearsome woman who raised and taught her to stand for what was right? This wasn't the first time they'd had this argument and as your life hung in the balance, Diana doubted it would be the last.
You hadn't uttered more than a few sentences since arriving on the sandy shores of Themyscira and that was two weeks ago. You'd been in and out of consciousness every since. Never awake longer than a second or two and no one could tell Diana why. The healers had done all they could. The rest was up to you.
Diana gritted her teeth and rose from your bedside. "You and I are not having this conversation again, mama. Y/N is staying here until she wakes up. The healers will attend her for as long as she requires their attention and that is final. You gave me your word and you will stand by it."
"Perhaps I gave it too hastily."
Fire and hatred burned in Diana's eyes but the Queen of the Amazons did not--would not--falter. "I know you've formed something of an…attachment…to this girl--"
Diana laughed, tearfully. Attachment. What a paltry word to describe what she felt for you. This all-consuming yearning and devotion that kept her up nights and drove her to kneel at your bedside for hours with no regard to her own hunger and comfort. "Attachment," Diana repeated, laughing again.
"She is not like us, my daughter" the queen continued. "She is not like you--"
"She doesn't have to be! I don't need her to be like me. I don't need her to do anything but live, mama!"
"I do not mean to be cruel but if this is what her ailing has done to you…I don't want to know what would become of you if she perished."
Diana for the first time since coming home was inclined to agree with her mother. She opened her mouth to speak, some of her earlier anger dissipating, when a sharp breath stole away her words.
Diana whirled.
You rubbed sleep from your eyes, wincing as you struggled to get comfortable in the narrow cot on which you lay.
Diana stumbled to your bedside and fell to her knees.
You gave her a weak smile, bleary-eyed smile. Your hair was a bird's nest atop your head and yet to Diana, you'd never looked more beautiful.
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You hit the ground hard not for the first time today.
"Dammit," you hissed.
Diana leaned into your line of sight with an apologetic smile. "Are you alright?"
"No I'm not alright!" you snapped. "A toddler could have blocked that kick and I just…I just," you screwed your eyes shut and breathed through the pain, the embarrassment, and frustration. "I'm not the same, D. My body…it's not the same."
She dropped to her knees and gently straddled your waist. Taking your face in her hands, she kissed your lids again and again until you opened them. "It's only been a week, my love. It could take months even years to remind your body of what your mind never forgot. Give it time."
It had been four months since you woke up in Themyscira's infirmary. Four long grueling months spent trying to remember how to walk and care for yourself. Fighting off pain and infection with strange herbs and medicinal techniques you'd never heard of and you were tired. So, so tired of being weak and fragile on an island surrounded by women who were the very definition of everything you used to be.
"But I don't want it to take months or years!" tears of frustration filled your eyes.
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice." Diana carefully rolled off of you and into the grass.
"Someone did this to me, Diana. I could have died."
"I know… And when you are well my love, we will find them and you will have your justice. But whether you like it or not it will take time. And if you will have me, I will be here with you. For every step of the way. And every step after that."
REQUESTED! | REQUESTS: OPEN | REBLOG DON’T REPOST | GIF?
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starry-bi-sky · 5 months
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Just the idea of clone Danny and clone Talia working out much bette then him and Talia would confuse poor Bruce. And best part all 4 of them don'T believe he is batman Danny: "We know he is your Sugarbaby, Mom and dad talked about it." Clone Talia:" So no fear, my OG liked a Himbo. And well Danny is a one too."
FR THO AND THEN THERE’S BABY DAMES IN THE CORNER SWEATING BECAUSE HE KNOWS. HE KNOWS. THE LoA TOLD HIM. He’s not saying SHIT though because this is hilarious. He’s silently laughing in the corner. And yessss Clone Danny and Clone Talia working out much better is exactly why I thought of it -- because one its funny and two the potential angst. the could have been.
It doesn't ever occur to Bruce to tell them he's batman but that conversation still comes up during mealtime one day while Danny's recovering (he has to be tied to his chair because he found the gym and nearly dislocated his shoulder trying to train. Dammit Danny your bones are made of glass right now from destabilizing, let your cells repair before doing anything!) because the four of them were talking about Batman and his clan of kids.
Danny, frowning: im not a himbo?
Nasra: reportedly when you first met Damian, your first response to his attacking you was to... grab the blade with your hands, multiple times. This resulted in you slicing a nerve in both hands and permanently weakening your fine motor control.
Danny: well--
Nasra: even now you're rubbing your palms, you only do that when your hands are bothering you.
Damian, snapping his head up: what!?
Danny: you noticed that?? also i learned. I didn't repeat myself when you attacked me when we met, did I?
Nasra: i. suppose not. you're still a himbo, however.
also Danny does his usual 'run on negative sleep' bullshit while in the manor except now he has not only damian but also Nasra tag-teaming his bullshit. Like no, Danny. you need sleep to recover your strength. your ghostly investigation can wait until you're not about to pass out and break your nose on your laptop. They have whole ass arguments in arabic - all three of them - as damian AND nasra drag danny to the closest soft horizontal surface. Danny returns the favor to the both of them when those two are also doing their 'negative sleep' stuff.
Dick at bby Dames: so do you....
Damian: know that you guys are Batman and his family? Yeah. Grandfather and Mother told me before I was living with Danny.
Tim: how come Danny and Nasra don't know then?
Damian: I didn't think it was important to tell Danny that his original was Batman. He does know of the League, however. He calls Grandfather my "super evil, ecofascist grampa and his cult of killers" and doesn't want to know more out of worry of needing to get involved.
Dick: I - really?
Damian: yes, he figured that since grandfather had yet to successfully wipe out my original, then that whatever Damian Wayne was doing was working. And that if he knew more, then he might have to get involved, and he has own problems to worry about than the League of Assassins.
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myveryownfanfiction · 6 months
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Rickmas day 8: rosemary for holly
18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
tags: @illiana-mystery, @cassieuncaged, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @deepperplexity
warnings: swearing
warnings: swearing, snape is emotionally stunted
I stood watching Severus dig through the box of Christmas decorations, a scowl etched on his face. He was muttering to himself, occasionally pointing his wand in the box and muttering a summoning spell.
“dammit.” He groaned and pushed the box away from where he was seated. “Where the fuck is it?”
“where is what?” I asked as I fully stepped into the room. Severus looked up at me and frowned.
“The holly. My mother…” he broke off, turning to stare at the box. “She always put holly out. Always. But I can’t find any.” Severus kicked out at the table, watching it move an inch. “I feel like I’m losing my mind. Over a little piece of holly.” He laughed as he looked back at me.
“you aren’t losing your mind.” I assured him as I sat down next to him, a hand on his back. “It’s a family tradition. Something you hold dear. It makes perfect sense.” I rubbed his back as he put his head in his hands.
“what am I going to do? It’s too close to Christmas to try to find it in the shops and I can’t grow any. It takes too long. There’s no way to get back to hogwarts to go through my stores…” Severus trailed off.
“and besides that holly is better used for potion making rather than decoration.” I finished for him. Severus nodded and sat back to lean his head against the couch. I looked at him carefully. “What about rosemary?” I asked. Severus turned to look at me.
“Rosemary?” He asked. I nodded. “Use rosemary? For holly?” I nodded again.
“holly has meaning at Christmas. And rosemary has it own meanings.” I tried to reason. Severus nodded.
“it could work.” He breathed out. “Although…I don’t know where I’d find…”
“I do.” I said with a smile. “Come on.” I held out a hand and Severus took it, letting me pull him up. We walked into the kitchen to the tiny garden I had been cultivating in the window while he was at hogwarts. I grabbed the little planter with rosemary and presented it to Severus.
“you’ve been growing this…” he said, staring at the plant in his hands. “While I’ve been away?” I nodded.
“I needed something to do. And it’s useful in both cooking and potions.” I shrugged. “I…” Severus cut me off, planter clattering on the counter as he grabbed my waist and pulled me into a kiss.
“fuck.” He breathed. “I love you.” I laughed as I ran my fingers through his hair.
“I love you too.” I smiled at him. “What…” Severus kissed me again.
“rosemary means fidelity and remembrance.” He whispered against my lips. “Remembrance of my mother. Me. Those we’ve lost. And fidelity.” He kissed me again.
“What about fidelity has you so worked up?” I giggled as I pushed his hair back.
“loyalty. Faithfulness. To me. Supporting me.” Severus leaned his head against mine. “Everything I wanted as a child but never got in this house. Something I only dreamed of at hogwarts instead of mistaking it for being used. (Y/N) darling, you’ve given me everything I could ever ask for.” I cupped his cheeks as he gazed into my eyes. “I love you more than you could ever imagine.” Severus kissed me deeply again.
“I love you too.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Let’s go hang this up.” I grabbed the planter and his hand to pull him back to the living room. “And then we can go test that fidelity.” Severus laughed as he followed my lead.
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lavenderslabyrinth · 5 months
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A Sacrificial Game
King!Dragon x Reader
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Masterlist
This is my first post since deciding to kick off this new account. It’s rewritten from an old story I had posted on here long ago once upon a time. I hope you enjoy~
CW: ♢ Mention of Near Drowning ♢ Blood/Injury ♢ Abduction ♢
The coos of morning doves and the gentle brushing of branches against your bedroom window were quickly drowned out by the boisterous laughter and squabbling of your many siblings. Your attempt at trying to drown them out via the trusty quilt-over-head technique was quickly plundered as they burst through your sacred doorway. With energy only children can manage to conjure from the depths of hell at 8 in the morning, they jostled you around roughly, stealing away the comforting warmth you'd had. Surely, you'd thought, this was an act of merciless torture. Your skin prickled with goosebumps and, irritably, you managed to croak out a yip. "Ow! Off!" Your anger did nothing more than make them giggle as they lightly bruised you with their rough play. "Lemme sleep, dammit! Off! Get off!" Taking evident joy out of your misery, the damn gremlins only gave you a round of smug looks. They did relent, however it was truthfully only to avoid your flailing swats at their heads. “Momma said we ain’t eatin’ breakfast till you get up. So get up lazy" A chorus of agreements and more jostling only drew a strong eye roll from you. But, nevertheless, you shooed them off and sat up, groggily rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
Normally they'd just eat without you, leaving the leftovers warmed in the oven to be picked at by whoever passed by, but today was a special occasion. It was your birthday. Normally birthdays were happy events full of gifts, smiles, and all things merry-making-- but this one was different. While the younger whelps scurried off to the old wooden table, none the wiser to the fate that you now had to face, a heavy weight hung over the heads of the adults in the house. The thickness of the air palpable as you stepped into the kitchen and saw the grim look on your mother's face.
The saying goes that a starving savage is less likely to ravage your home if you give it a single meal-- and such began the gruesome, superstitious tradition... Once a year, one unlucky village that bordered the human kingdom would be chosen to place the names of all it's unmarried, of-age residents into a box and perform a drawing. Whichever sorry soul was picked would be ripped away from their homes by the temple, never to be seen again. The nobility liked to call it one of the "highest of all honors" a commoner could receive. The common people? You call it human sacrifice.
At least, most of your people do. Despite that being so, the vast majority of the population feared the very notion of abandoning the ritual. Why? Because the entire purpose was to "sate the otherfolk's thirst for human blood." One sacrifice, one year free from their wrath.
Your skin crawled at the very idea of it all as you leant down, clumsy hands tying up the laces of your worn leather boots.
As a child, you believed every word that hung off of the elders' tongues down near the pub. The fascination and wonder of another terrifying world outside the kingdom's tall, stone walls ignited your naive little heart. But with age, it grew evident to you that they were no more than simple old widows and drunkards with nothing better to do with their remaining time than talk stories and scare little children with tall tales. How were you supposed to believe beasts, much less entire civilizations of them, would be satisfied by the blood of one person if they truly wanted to attack a meager village, much less an entire country? Who decided they even wanted that blood? It was an argument you’d tried to raise countless times with your village council only to have it shot down with a simple “Well the Chosen never return, do they?” It pissed you off to no end. It didn't even take two wrinkles in the brain to conclude that it was more likely the animals of the woods, the elements-- or worse, other humans that caused the sacrificed to meet their demise; but no point you made would ever change their stone cold hearts.
And as though your age wasn't enough to make this birthday sour, the drawing was to be held this evening. The irony of someone losing their life on the day of your birth was palpable. Taking your usual chair at the kitchen table, you noticed the way two of your brothers squabbled over the last roll. With spiteful retaliation, you plucked it from between them taking a slow, mocking bite right in front of their faces. Maybe next time they'd think twice before ganging up to practically assault you out of bed.
"(y/n)?" Your head snapped up to attention, meeting your father's gaze. "How are you feeling?" You swallowed the fluffy bread quickly shooting a quiet reply. "I'm alright. Would feel a little better if you guys would stop lookin at me like I'm headed to the gallows." The laugh you were awarded from him was dry, but it eased some of the tension in his weathered shoulders nonetheless.
"I suppose it is a bit stuffy in here for a birthday, huh?" Your mother piped up sheepishly, wiping her hands on the dishtowel that hung from a belt on her hip. "Say, why don't you go visit Alikar? Trade some of our tomatoes for a basket of peaches-- bring those back and I'll make a pie we can all have after the drawing, how does that sound?" The little heads in the room visibly perked at the idea of getting their grubby little paws on something sweet. It wasn't often you had the sugar for such things after all.
Dismissing the idea of having to attend the black box event, you gave her a gentle nod. "Sure, I can do that. Need anything else while I'm out?" You inquired, stuffing the rest of the bread into your mouth before your youngest brother could snatch it from your hand. "No, dear. Just finish your breakfast and we'll handle the rest."
After practically beating your siblings off the table with a stick to get your fill, you quickly washed up and plucked the basket from the floor. “I’m off!” You called, getting no discernible acknowledgement as the chaos in the house never ceased. No matter to you-- the pie would be well worth the trip ahead.
Uncle Alikar.
The man was a huge part of the reason you didn’t believe a lick of all that ‘savage otherfolk’ nonsense. As your feet scuffed along the well worn path, old memories bubbled up to the surface like froth from the babbling brook that ran beside you.
You were the eldest of your siblings which, consequently, meant that when you'd been a rumbling little runt there were no older kids to show you the ropes and your parents' first trial run at raising a whole little person. This always resulted in you tumbling headfirst into trouble, but one day it had gone a little too far. Your tiny body approached the ledge of the stream. The same edge you would use every summer to hunt tadpoles. But, unbeknownst to you, the soil that was far too saturated with yesterday's rain to hold your weight. Without warning, it crumbled beneath your little feet sending you hurtling down into the rushing waters below. The merciless current carried you faster downstream than your father could run and just when your little head was wrenched under the raging current, a large beast sprung into the water after you. Before you could even process what had happened, your little lungs were hacking up the water they're inhaled, the coughing doing little for the burn in your lungs.
At first it was all a blur, you could hear your parents shouting as well as another rumbling voice above you responding back to them. Your little legs dangling far above the ground as a muscular arm stayed firmly wrapped around your waist. Someone was... holding you? You blinked away the tears, looking up to be met with a mouth full of razor-like teeth, thick sopping wet fur, and bright, slitted eyes. Misunderstanding what was going on, you began to cry out in fear. You were absolutely terrified you were about to be eaten by the ravenous river monster your mother warned you about countless times in attempt to dissuade you from wandering near the water when they weren't watching you. Only when those large paws handed you off to your mother ever-so-gently did you begin to quiet back down "Are you alright now, sweetpea? Ol' Alikar didn't mean to spook ya. Poor thing." He was some kind of rakshasa or tabaxi, evident by the sopping tail that swayed in the water behind him and round, fluffy ears that tilted back with concern. Speaking of...
Your knuckles rapped against the wooden door, sending warm clunks into the cottage. It was a serene place far from the human village which was always surrounded by the sweet smells of fruit and scents of warm, freshly made bread. Not but a few seconds later the upper half of the door swung open and there, in all his striped glory, was Alikar himself. “There’s the birthday girl!” He greeted you, his smile full of sharp teeth. A sight that originally took some getting used to but was now synonymous with a second home. “Hey Uncle Al. Mama sent me down to get some peaches for a pie.” You raised your basket of tomatoes.
He only chuckled in reply. “Oh, I know, how else was I supposed to give you your gift?” His paw pushed the lower part of the door open, welcoming you inside-- the scent of herbs and butter wafting much stronger from within. Surprised, you could only follow dumbly after him at first, setting the basket down as you took a seat on his kitchen table.
“A gift? Since when do you have the extra funds to get me gifts?! Aren’t you saving for the wedding? What about--”
    “Would you hush, child?” He laughed, taking amusement in your fretting. “You’re still new to the whole womanhood thing, what do you know about adult troubles?” You gave a halfhearted growl at him but had no argument to fire back at him. Even though you'd been considered an adult in human standards for quite a few years, Alikar did have more experience than you in that department.
"You get onto me about my finances but I don't see you moving out of your parents' home yet." He teased, carefully unloading every piece of fruit from the wicker basket with care. "Don't bully me! I'm plenty experienced in other things!" You whined. Snatching one of the many apples he'd left unattended. The crisp sweetness did little to nurse your slightly bruised ego but the coolness of the juice as it dribbled down you chin quenched plenty other, more satisfying needs. "Yeah? And what would your area of foreign expertise be? Apple thieving?"
You glared at his back, cheeks tinting "No! Like conversation! And courting."
"Pah!" He scoffed, soft paws stacking the soft, pink fruit into a neat arrangement. "Much good your 'experience' has gotten you, I am the only one getting married here out of the two of us." Okay. Ouch. "And I converse plenty well, thank you very much!"
The afternoon passed with similar banter as you stuffed yourself with whatever fruits Alikar let you get your hands on. In the end he had given you a carefully carved wooden totem of your favorite animal, peaches, and sent you on your way. Whatever wood the little figure was made from gave a faint, sweet scent when wet with water. A bit ironic considering how you met all those years ago but you appreciated it nonetheless.
You had asked him if he’d have wanted to come and celebrate with you and your family but, regretfully, he had to decline. As charming and kind as he was, the path to your home was far too close to the village for his comfort and the idea of one of your acquaintances or friends coming to celebrate as well and reporting him sent the hairs on the back his neck straight upward. It was no secret the village wasn’t excited about strange, new creatures given the black box tradition, so it was doubtful Alikar would be in the public eye anytime soon, as unfortunate as that was…
   You didn’t realize how much time you’d wasted until the shadows began stretching longer, snuffing out much of whatever light the day had left for you. “Ah shit.” You mumbled. You'd definitely missed the drawing, and at this rate you wouldn't be able to eat sweets till the next morning. Speeding up from a mozy to a quick trot back up the hill was unpleasant to say the least, but damn if those thoughts of peach pie didn't motivated you to haul ass.
However, as you drew closer your eagerness was smothered.
Hunching down, you quickly used the cover of the thorny brush to peer out at the scene below-- The terrified cries of your siblings pierced through your chest.
“Where’s the girl?!” A man demanded, spear to your father’s throat and eyes unwavering as your mother pled, voice breaking with fear as her children clung to her skirts.
“Dunno what you’re talkin’ bout.” Your father replied curtly, looking the assailant back in the face with matching fury and anger. “I've only got sons.” The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Only once before, in your entire life, had you heard such a chilling tone come from that man. You'd been no older than 12 when a suitor equal to your mother in age offered to pay a hefty sum for your hand in marriage. The cruel chill in his voice as he sent the man away stuck with you-- but it didn't seem like this scenario would have the same outcome.
“Have it your way.”
A pit knotted itself in your breast as your family’s pleas turned to screaming cries, the spear cutting into you father's shoulder without mercy. Everything seemed to move so slowly after that...
First, you'd prayed he'd give in, relenting your location to the angry mob that surrounded him-- but your father stayed silent. That same fury in his eyes unwavering as he stayed on his feet.
Second, you though, maybe, the crowd would believe they'd truly made a mistake. Maybe a (y/n) didn't live in this village. Perhaps they'd been mistaken-- but that hope was quickly snuffed out as the spear-wielding man reeled the weapon back again, poised to strike.
You hadn't even known what you were doing as you pushed through the thorny brambles. Didn't even register as your fingers curled around a plump peach from your basket. And certainly didn't realize the strength you'd shot through your arm as you slung the fruit straight into the back of the man's head.
The hard impact followed by the splatter of sweet juices dripping down his neck was followed only by a second of silence.
Then two.
Then three.
All heads turning in your direction....
Run.
It was nothing more than instinct as you dropped the precious wicker basket your mother had weaved to the ground-- Alikar's carefully nurtured peaches bruising in the dirt. You shot back through the thorns. Dress skirt shredding, legs practically minced as you rushed through the uncaring wild.
Everything blurred.
Heart racing, the sound of shouting, the thundering of feet right on your tail. It was so much, too much-- too soon. There was no where else you could go. You didn't even know where you were going. Run. Run. RUN.
And run you did, even as your calves burned and blood dripped down your skin, you flew through the woods in a desperate flurry. It was fruitless though. Your wreckless abandon being brought to a halt with a blistering pain that shot through your ribs. The last thing you saw was the sight of the ground coming right at you, and then? Darkness.
I was going to wait till I finished part 2 to post this part but I'm too excited and part 2 is about halfway written anyway :) Stay tuned!
pt. 2
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s-4pphics · 1 year
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let the rain sing. prologue. (a.a.)
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wc;cw: 2k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap(oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi <3, mentions of insomnia and prescriptions, brief mentions of familial death, brief mentions of weed, alcohol, smut l8r y’all know wassup
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You were exhausted. 
You haven’t gotten one second of decent shut eye for the last three days, and you could slowly feel yourself slipping into insanity every second that passed. 
Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words—
You’d been silently gnawing through your now rubbery everything bagel when your mother’s speaker rang through the kitchen. You jumped slightly, glancing over to your parents as they eyed each other with bright smiles across their faces. Despite the pounding of your head from the volume of the Fugees, you couldn’t help the softness you felt whenever you saw them in each other's company. They were still so in love after all this time. 
When they heard that you passed the LSAT two years ago, they were ecstatic, even more so than you’d been. You were glad to know that your restless hours of studying had paid off, but you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you when you thought about finances, employment, living arrangements. All of the things you didn’t have to worry about at university because your parents were that giving. These responsibilities started to hit you the closer the start of your first semester got, but you thanked god every day for blessing your parents with their intuition. 
They’d been quick to ease any tension that you’d developed over the summer, inviting you to live with them as you finished your schooling. You lived on campus when you were in university, and even though you were disappointed by not having another full experience like you did previously, you refused to pass up the opportunity of free… everything. 
You knew law school would be difficult—your first year rocked you like no other, and although your peers had gotten accustomed to the rigor, you were struggling just as badly as you were back then. 
And it mainly had to do with your inability to fucking sleep. 
You… could not stay sleep for longer than twenty minutes at a time, and it was killing you. Literally. Your friends had been making comments about how worn out you seemed. 
You tried everything: upping the milligrams of your prescription, indica, giving yourself lack-luster, unfulfilling orgasms, and none of it worked. 
Your parents knew about your insomnia since you were a teenager, but you never fully expressed to them how bad it’d gotten since this semester started. Your prescribed sleeping aids were not helping you in the slightest anymore, and you spent most of your nights staring at the ceiling of your childhood bedroom, counting the little glow-in-the-dark, star-shaped stickers that your dad had stuck to your ceiling when you were little. The longer you stared at them, the brighter they seemed to glow, even though you knew that they’d lost their shine a decade ago. 
You had another day of diligent notetaking and highlighting ahead of you, but all you could think about was fucking sleep. 
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Hi baby .Some friends from work will be over today when you return from class .Sorry for the last minute warning .I love you & be safe .🥰❤️
You sighed heavily as you read your father’s text, your instructor's voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard as you sent your dad okay. love you too. 
You always loved your father’s vibrancy: you’ve never known someone as social as him. He loved to speak, to make friends, to learn the inner makings of their mind with genuine curiosity. He had such a comforting and attentive aura, and it lured people to him like they were on strings, and he was a puppeteer. 
But having company over tonight was the last thing you wanted right now. 
And your favorite pen was running out of fucking ink. 
Dammit. 
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You pulled your front door open and was instantly met with the sound of laughter and glasses clinking. It was almost nine, and they were still here. 
… Great. 
You stepped in and shut the door behind you, immediately kicking your shoes off and walking towards the steps. 
“And where’re you going, young lady?” 
Your mother’s voice made you halt, and your head dropped in surrender. 
You turned towards the group spread out across the living room, and you smiled as widely as you could manage, adjusting the heavy bag on your shoulder. 
“…Hey, y’all,” you said awkwardly, raising your hand up in a stiff wave, earning some chuckles and warm greetings. 
You inspected the room as they all greeted you. You recognized most of the faces from small gatherings that your parents had in the past, but your eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar woman sitting on the love seat near the television, glass of wine in hand. 
Her cheeks were tinted pink, her blonde locks draping over her… broad shoulders and back. She was dressed in a white, floral sundress with strappy sandals, and you couldn��t stop the flutter in your chest when she wiggled her fingers at you in a wave, gently saying Hi, I’m Abigail. I don’t think we’ve met.  
“… No, we haven’t. Nice t’meet you.”
“You, too,” she said, her smile brightening. 
Your father cut in, “Baby, tell her about your law student endeavors! Abby used to attend!” He turned to her to continue his boasting, “She’s almost done with her schooling, I can’t even believe it!”
Abby nodded as she sipped her wine, her eyes darting to yours in curiosity, encouraging you to tell her about your education. You shrugged, “Uh, yeah. I’m almost done. Trying to be done… I’m dying inside.” 
The room rang with laughter, Abby's soft giggles filling your ears. You squeezed the strap of your bag tighter at the sound. 
“I know the feeling. You’re better than I was, for sure. I was two seconds away from becoming a gravestone.” More laughter shook the room as she shook her head as she reminisced, taking another sip of wine. 
You nodded, urgent to get upstairs and shower, “Yeah, it’s rough. But, uh… I’m exhausted. I’ll leave y’all to it.” 
You turned to rush upstairs, only trekking one before your mom’s voice stopped you again. Your legs were this close to giving out. 
“Wait, honey! Can you help Abby make the charcuterie board before you go? Maybe she can give you some advice about getting your Master’s!” 
… What advice would she give? She didn’t even finish school!
Your body was begging for you to lay down, but you spun towards the guests, “Can I change first?” 
“Sure, hon!” 
You caught Abby’s eyes one last time before you left, her gaze… hard to read. It made your hand grab the rail of the stairs tighter before you bolted up the steps as their chatter picked up again.
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Abby was… very nice. 
You’d only been working on the charcuterie for about ten minutes, but you felt comfortable talking to her. 
You’d been curious as to why you’d never met her before, and you were eager to know more about her: how she met your dad, what her role was at the office, her… failed master’s program. She went into detail about her short-lived adventure at Harvard Law, and you couldn’t eliminate the shock on your face as she retold the story.
She’d received almost a full ride in scholarship fund due to her remarkable academia, but even with her suffocating schedule, she found time to fall in love with somebody. 
Then fell—
“—pregnant. Perfect timing,” she said with light sarcasm, and she neatly placed the crackers on a China dish. You shook your head at the mention of children, grabbing a plate from the cabinet above you, “Couldn't handle school’n and being pregnant, so I dropped out.” 
“… I don’t know if I should say congrats or sorry,” you huffed a laugh, suddenly feeling guilty about your judgment of her earlier. She shook her head with a grin. 
“Don’t say either. I’ve gotten both responses and I hate them equally,” she said with a playful glare, her mouth raised slyly. You chuckled gently, placing grapes on the plate. 
“I get that, at least you had time for a partner n’all that. Don’t tell my parents but… I haven’t talked to anyone since I started,” you said with slight embarrassment. 
“Shit…” you saw her eyes widen from the corner of your eye as she crunched on a cracker. “Yeah… you’re superhuman. I don’t know what the hell I woulda done if I didn’t get… yeah. Sorry.”  
Your cheeks ran hot as you huffed awkwardly, “It’s, uh, fine. I’ve just been really busy’n I’m sooo tired. I’m just… not thinking about that right now…” 
“I can tell…” she turned to look at you softly before continuing, “I can tell you’re working really hard. You looked like you were gonna hit the floor when you walked in.” 
Because you were. 
“I’ll be fine,” you stared into her soft eyes, studying her face. You couldn’t help but memorize the curve of her nose, the soft dots and small scars on her face, her rosy lips. You saw her eyes flicker down your face before looking down at the tray. You quickly changed the subject.
“So, how old's your kid?” you asked curiously, reaching for and opening the new pack of fresh mozzarella. You heard her breath catch in her throat. 
“She, um… she would’ve been around your age,” she barely whispered, and you nearly shot yourself in the foot.
You whipped your head to look at her, immediately setting the food down on the tray, your heart saddening at the implication.
“Abby, oh my god, I’m so sor— “
She shook her head at you with a sad smile, “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t know. I’m good.” 
“Still, I’m so sorry, that’s awfu— “
She placed a light hand on your shoulder, “Hey, you didn’t know. I’m fine… I’ve been fine since it happened.” 
You could feel her thumb rubbing into the fabric of your t-shirt, your bra-strap moving with her caress. You could feel a chill building at the base of your spine, slowly creeping up your neck. 
“Not to brag,” her voice got surprisingly low, a teasing grin creeping onto her face. You almost shuddered. “But I think I’m doing pretty well given the circumstances. I’m making a fucking charcuterie board like some rich auntie. If that isn’t proof, I dunno what is.” 
You gasped out a laugh. You hadn’t realized how good she smelt, like a fucking rose garden and Cabernet. You noticed her slightly leaning into your space, just barely, and your heart pounded against your chest. You averted your gaze down to the floor.
“You’re so tense,” she whispered out between you two with furrowed brows, evident concern in her voice. “And you look exhausted. Are you doing okay?” 
You felt the hand still planted on your shoulder massage into it, her thumb gently pressing into the skin above your collarbone, and you sighed at her touch.  
“… No— “
“Giiirls, what’s the hold up! We’re feelin’ peckish!” 
You heard your father’s mischievous voice call out from the living room, and you pulled away from the woman who’d gotten way too close to you. You skittishly returned your attention to the loaded food tray, finishing the last bit of plating before grabbing the handles and rushing out to the crowded area, leaving Abby in the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine from the fridge. 
Your parents’ friends hooted at the sight of the tray as you set it down on the coffee table. You hurriedly turned to say goodnight to your parents, but you accidentally bumped into a flushed Abby with an unopened wine bottle and cork in hand. 
You brainlessly grabbed the bottle from her, your fingertips brushing against hers. You could’ve sworn you felt her grip tighten around the neck. 
You took it from her grasp, setting it down on the table before pushing past her, your arms brushing. You bent down to peck your parents on the forehead with a shaky call of goodnight to everyone. 
You quickly raced up the stairs trying to convince yourself that eyes were not burning holes in your back, rushing into your room and shutting the door softly. 
What the fuck was that! 
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those pics r not eating omg
im mad late my bad yall lol
taglist? :0
mwah bye
part one. part two. part three. interlude. part four.
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Text
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Five: An Uneasy Peace
The armistice between you helps your shelter materialize, but is it enough when an unexpected rainstorm nearly floods the beach before it's finished?
CHAPTER WARNINGS: some peril, I guess
MASTERLIST
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Summer was reaching a peak in the Southern Hemisphere. The next day, as you began the construction of the shelter, the air was so humid every step was like wading through a pool, and every breath felt like it stuck to the back of your nose if you inhaled too deeply. You were sweating before Loki even awoke. 
The first thing you did was find two large rocks, one heavy and blunt, the other at least beginning to show an eroded point. For hours, you beat away at it like a caveman, only to yield very little results. The rock was way too hard to fashion into a tool without hacking away tirelessly for days. This was going to be a dead end. 
You looked over your shoulder, where you noticed that Loki was finally awake and out of sight. Probably luxuriating at the lagoon again. What a lazy bum! 
However, as your frustration began to take an audible form by way of grunts and curse words, Loki came up behind you, watching with snide satisfaction as you lost your battle against the stone. 
“I have a secret for you,” he said quietly. 
“Not interested,” you immediately snapped. 
“Very well!” he said simply, chucking something onto the ground beside you and backing up. “You’re the one who turned it down!”
It was a bamboo pole, freshly and perfectly sliced on both ends. 
“Dammit! Wait, Loki!” you called, leaping to your feet and following him close to the shoreline. 
“You said you weren’t interested!” he joked, kicking at the waves lapping by his feet. 
“No, fuck! Please tell me!” you said, the desperation and exhaustion in your shouts were enough to move his heart to give you another chance. 
“I did that in about twenty seconds,” Loki said, indicating the pole he’d left on the beach. “I used some magic that I learned about years ago but had nearly forgotten.”
“A spell?” you asked warily. 
Loki nodded. “Seidr is illusion magic, typically not for battle. My mother thought with my particular potential, I would be able to manage a few simpler, physical spells in addition to my inborn talent, including a basic cutting charm. Something I haven’t done in centuries, of course, not when I have my beautiful, graceful daggers instead. Besides, it isn’t very strong…it likely couldn’t cut more than a carrot, and the cuts are shallow and short. I never practiced it because it never impressed me. These stalks are easier because they are hollow within.”
You sighed, realizing the error of your ways yesterday on the lagoon. “You really didn’t use a rock.”
Loki smiled and shook his head. “How does the humble cake taste?”
“It’s humble pie, Loki,” you said, unable to hide that the corner of your lips turned up in amusement. “And…ugh…I guess I owe it to you to at least say that I’m…”
Loki’s grin turned darker, like a villain about to declare checkmate. “Go on.” 
The words felt like a nasty chunk of old cheese crumbling between your tongue and palate. “I’m sorry, Loki. I should have believed you.” 
Even though I had every reason not to…
“You had every reason not to,” Loki admitted. “I enjoy watching you squirm, Chickadee.”
You rolled your eyes. “So…will you help me build this stupid thing or what?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Will it be big enough for two?” he prompted.
Sighing, you knew you were backed into a corner on this one. “So long as you keep your pants on while inside. I’m not one of your girls who fawns over you. I don’t want to get too close to your little scepter.”
“Very well, I suppose I can concede on that one term,” he acquiesced, setting your mind at least partially at ease. 
Of course, Loki couldn’t just leave it at that. “Unless, of course, you ask for me to remove them.” 
Instead of blowing up at him once again, you sucked your breath in, restraining yourself well. “Loki, the day will never come. Get used to disappointment.” 
“Already am, Chicka--”
“--stop calling me that,” you said grumpily. “We have a shelter to build!” 
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After the temporary armistice was agreed upon, at least for the sake of the shelter, you ate a mango while Loki stoked his green fire, deciding to strategize over breakfast. You had to admit, the emerald flame was quite pretty, the simmering embers beneath even more exquisite. 
“Is all seidr magic green?” you asked out of curiosity. 
Loki perked up. He clearly liked talking about the old ways of Asgard. You figured the more you got him talking about it, the less time between words he’d have to make you miserable with more quips and cheap shots.
“Not at all, in fact colored magic is quite rare,” he explained.
“I imagine it makes you feel important, then,” you replied. “To have green magic.”
He shrugged with a neutral sigh. “Actually, the only thing that affects coloring is the manner of the spell and the kind of magic it uses. If I was a standard warlock, it would be gold or white like everyone else’s, and the fire would have a natural color.”
“I see.” 
Loki put the smallest of his clay pots onto the bamboo grate, letting the water within begin to steam to a boil. “We’ll need a lot of drinking water if we plan to work in this humidity all afternoon.” 
While you gracelessly picked the fibers of mango pulp from between your teeth (it was already getting to be unbearable not being near a roll of toilet paper or a toothbrush!), you set the shared goal of having the poles set around the tree by noon, and have two of the four sides of the floor tied together by dusk. 
“I’ll give you one thing, Chickadee,” Loki said as he began to head toward the grove of bamboo, “wrapping it around a tree is a good idea, at least for now. Added support to prevent collapse, yes?”
While he cut stalks, you began gathering vines. You knew you’d need many of them, and after a while, you imagined your crop would run out. Luckily, they were very strong and fibrous, like thick woven rope. Some were stubborn, and you had to put all of your body weight into pulling them down from above. One was so difficult to harvest that you began swinging on it, both frustrated and amused. You even giggled for a moment. 
Loki took intermittent glances down the beach at you, and when he saw you playing around on the vine, he couldn’t help but chuckle. She’s pretty when she’s not scowling like a school mistress. 
Loki cut the bamboo at an angle on one end, creating a point that was easily injected into the sand. He’d cut the thickest ones for the support poles, they were consistently about 10 inches in diameter. His superior strength didn’t require your help in setting them. 
You worked in silence for a while, the tension clearly not gone as you’d hoped when you suggested the temporary truce. 
“So…what’s your favorite animal to turn into?” you asked. 
He waited a moment before answering you. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t particularly like doing so at all?”
“Really?” You would have thought that would have been among Loki’s favorite powers. “You can sneak up on anyone you want, you can fly around like a bird or swim on the bottom of the ocean!”
“It’s painful,” he explained. “Magic isn’t just sprinkles and sparkles. Physical changes to the body cause physical pain. The further away a creature is from myself on the evolutionary scale, the more painful it becomes. I did it more as a child. When one is young and silly, they can always take more of it than after they grow up.” 
“Is that so?” you asked with disbelief. 
“You saw me briefly become a chimp the other day to gather fruit. It felt like pins and needles through my skin and veins. Were I to choose the form of a whale, or a bird, you’d likely hear me scream in anguish as I turned.”
“What about when you split yourself in half? You do that frequently to mess with me back home.” Your mind flashed back to the many times Loki would place a projection just outside the bathroom to await your exit, or having one streak naked around the conference room, just waiting for you to come in. 
“That is not physically splitting my body,” he mentioned, “that is a projection, Physical objects fall right through them, and you would not feel anything if you reached out to touch it. I cannot manipulate matter as a projection either.” 
“Oh.” 
Something on the shore caught your eye. Something foreign. “Oh my god, it can’t be another body…”
“What?” Loki’s head flipped around. “There was no one else on the jet with us, it can’t be.”
“We should call this place Death Island!” you moaned. “I don't want to waste more vines on another--”
“--it’s a container,” said Loki, getting up for a closer look. 
“From the wreck?” you asked. 
Loki quickly fetched the floating box and dragged it up to the tree. He was able to use his chopping spell to jimmy it open. By the time you caught up to him, he’d opened it and was examining the contents: what looked like an overstuffed backpack, a waterlogged flare gun that would be of no use to you, and what appeared to be an emergency radio, also dampened beyond use. 
“FUCK!” you cursed. “This was the emergency kit from the quinjet. That radio and gun would’ve gotten us out of here!”
“What’s this?” Loki took the heavy knapsack. 
“A parachute, I think,” you murmured. “Would’ve been more useful three days ago. Nothing else in there?”
“No,” Loki said. “But if this is a large white cloth,” he said, thinking out loud and pointing to the bag, “We absolutely can use this!”
Your mouth fell open. “An overhang for the shelter!” 
Smiling, Loki nodded. “I always knew you were smarter than you looked.”
Ignoring the backhanded compliment, you went back to tying the floorboards while Loki freed the silk parachute and unfolded it to determine its size. He reported back after a few minutes. “I think we can wrap it around the tree and tie it off to the railings once we construct them, don't you?” It will go all the way around the circumference with leftovers.”
You got another idea, looking down woefully at your disheveled appearance. Your silky cami was stained and yellowed, grimy, with a torn right strap. The navy skirt was also tattered at the hem, and the fabric was thick enough to become uncomfortable in the heat of the day. The only thing that kept you from ripping the bottom half off was Loki’s inevitable attention to it. 
“Loki? Do you think there would be enough for me to make something else to wear?” you asked modestly. “Like, a shorter--?” You stopped yourself, not wanting to tempt Loki to make a remark that would throw off the uneasy peace you’d adopted. 
You expect a snide comment anyway, or perhaps an unwelcome wink, but all Loki did was nod and look down at his own appearance. “Regrettably, heavy winter denim is proving most uncomfortable in this climate. I think that might be a good idea.”
“Wow.” 
“What is it?” Loki asked, surprised by your widened eyes. 
“Say that again.”
“That again.”
You resisted the urge to groan. “I mean, the part where you admitted that I had a good idea. I need to capture this moment for posterity!” This made him laugh, and the sound of a genuine chortle from Loki was oddly agreeable on your ears. 
Loki used his cutting spell to slice away two panels of the parachute, giving one to you and keeping another for himself. You’d fashion some kind of sundress later. The shelter was more important. Loki, however, wasted little time ducking behind a tree trunk to remove his jeans and tie a kilt-like garment around his hips. Once he emerged, he went back to his work as if nothing had changed about his looks. 
You stifled a laugh. It looked like a lacy skirt. Combining that with the bare chest and frizzing hair, Loki was a sight to behold. 
You both were relatively quiet and focused on building as the day wore on, so it was almost too late when you finally looked up and realized that the sky out over the western horizon was casting over with threatening, black clouds. The second thing you noticed was that the temperature was dropping, but the humidity was only going up. The wind was just starting to whisper above its normal, casual breeze.
 It was the increased sea spray that hit your face that finally drew your attention away from your work. “Uh, Loki?” you asked with uncertainty, pointing out the change in weather. 
He looked woefully at the lack of progress you’d made. All eight poles were wrapped around the tree, but only one of the floor panels was finished. The other had a frame and two bamboo stalks tied onto it with vine. 
You were looking out at sea, and at the shoreline, which was already starting to creep inward. The waves were beginning to get choppy and irregular. 
“We need to abandon the plans and go inland until it passes,” Loki declared.
You shook your head. “No, no, we worked all day on this! The beach won’t completely flood, not this high up!”
“Don’t count on it! Come on before it starts!” Loki raised his voice, looking concerned. “Even if this isn’t a typhoon, any storm could wash us out to sea!”
“Maybe we have time to stash the materials!?” you shouted as the wind finally began picking up. You quickly began trying to lift the completed floorboard by yourself. “Help me!” 
A strong, bright bolt of lightning struck a few hundred feet off shore, the crack that followed deafened you for several seconds. Your instinct sent you to your knees on the sand, ducking for cover. 
“We don't have the time! Get to the lagoon!” Loki grabbed your wrist. You attempted to struggle against his grasp, but he was too strong. He dragged you into the trees with relative ease. After a few moments, he let go. 
You immediately began to go back. Loki shouted, “Where the Norns are you going?”
“If the beach floods and we aren’t here, we’ll lose everything! The bamboo! The pots! The parachute!” 
Loki rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. “If the beach floods and we are here, we’ll lose our lives!” 
You suddenly felt yourself being hoisted into the air and heaved over something lumpy. Loki had apparently found the nerve to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes so that he wouldn’t have to chase you back to the beach as the storm came in.
“Where are we going?” you shouted over the increasing wind. He didn’t answer. “Loki, put me the fuck down!” 
“Only if you promise not to go back!” he insisted. “I mean it!” 
“FINE! JUST PUT--!”
He acquiesced before you could protest further, and the two of you ran in the same direction. 
Around you, branches and tumbleweeds began to whip up and block your way to the only natural shelter the island had to offer: the cove. More specifically, the cavern behind the falls. As the sky continued to darken, your visibility began to decrease. In the increasing danger of the inbound storm, you hadn’t noticed Loki take your hand. In turn, he hadn’t noticed that you’d accepted his hand without a fight.
Heavy plops of rain began to fall, they almost bore the weight of small hailstones as they began to hit the canopy, as well as the tops of your heads. The wind wasn’t yet strong enough to toss them around, but their size was soaking you quickly. 
You moved around the pond once you found it again. By the falls, you dropped Loki’s hand, hoping he didn’t notice that you’d been touching him at all. If he did, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to you and held out a hand, his face wearing a rare expression of complete earnestness. 
“It’s not an easy passage to swim through,” he said, his voice raised against the wind. “Can you hold your breath?”
You nodded. “Yes!”
“Hold onto my fin…”
Before you could ask what the hell he meant by ‘fin,’ Loki sucked in a large breath and jumped feet-first into the water. The pool, which was normal crystal-clear, was too obscured by the gray clouds above reflecting their darker coloring. Thus, it surprised you enough to send you falling backward when Loki re-appeared as a breaching dolphin. 
You smiled. “Show off.” 
You weren’t afraid of going under water, so grabbing Loki’s dorsal fin and letting him swim you under the falls and through the tight cavern behind wasn’t much of a problem. After about thirty seconds of being dragged through black water, you surfaced in a large air pocket deep within the cliff. You couldn’t see anything until Loki resurfaced as an Asgardian Prince once more, and began filling both of his palms with green fire to illuminate the space.   
“Hey how did you know this was here?” you asked. 
Loki’s face looked vaguely threatening with the harsh shadows and flickering green light against his facial features. “I explored it the other day while you were having your annoying tantrum on the beach.”
You shrugged off his clear tone of disapproval. “Oh.” 
“You seem to be coming around a bit,” Loki added softly, murmuring something under his breath and gently handing off his fire to a stalagmite, which remarkably remained ignited sitting on the rock. Upon seeing your surprised face, he mentioned, “Illusionary fire isn’t physical fire. Didn’t you notice the lack of kindling in our pit?”
He did a lap around the cavern, littering the walls with magic flames until the place was aglow in gentle, forest green. “Hopefully the storm won’t last. I don’t think it’s a typhoon.” 
You couldn’t find a particularly comfortable spot among the rocks and stalagmites, so you sat by Loki around one of his hovering flames. You could hear the loud crashes of thunder from deep inside the cave. Whatever kind of storm this was, it surely wasn’t showing your half-baked shelter any mercy. 
“Um….Loki?” you decided to break the awkward silence. 
“Yes?”
You looked away from him and straight into the fire. “You said it hurts when you change into an animal.”
“Yes.”
“Why’d you do it just now? I can swim, you know.”
Loki sucked in his breath. “I didn’t want to waste time asking. The storm was coming in too quickly. Are you offended?”
You shook your head. “I just didn’t think you’d go through that just to…you know…give me some help.” 
“Well, like it or not, I can’t exactly turn up without you. They’d assume the worst and likely send me back to Asgard to face something terrible.”
“Death?”
“No. There are worse things than a swift execution, believe me.”
“What would your father do to you?” you asked softly. “That’s worse than that?”
Loki bit his lip at the thought of what he narrowly avoided. “Eternal imprisonment in the dungeons. Nothing strikes at me more than losing my freedom, and Odin knows it.” 
For the first time in your life, your heart went out to Loki, whose words were laced with sorrow. You’d grown up in the most typical family imaginable: a mom and dad, siblings, family reunions once a year where aunties pinched your cheek and cousins chased you around. You knew you’d been privileged in that aspect, but there was something in the way the memories seemed to break Loki’s hard shell that made you feel ashamed of it. 
“Maybe you’ll find a family here some day,” you said gently. For some reason, your sincerity caught Loki off-guard. He actually smiled in gratitude at your kindness. 
“Thank you, but I think I’m better off alone,” Loki said with defiance. 
You decided that you didn’t need anymore of the downer energy. “I’m going to try to sleep.” 
Loki sat up all night as you got small intervals of rest throughout, his massive shadow cast by the green light flickering above you on the wall. 
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TAGLIST: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtuffff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki
@soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14 @lokidokieokie @littlegodslut @casifer391 @free-llama-arcade @alucardsdaddyissues @pest-ill-ence @elviswifesworld @mynameiskelly @xxinvisiblexx @loreniscrying @viv-annelore @arielaufson
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tvgals · 1 year
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RYTHM AND BLUES
modern domestic! miguel o’hara x black! reader 🫶🏾
a/n - i have NOT watched the movie lol
probs ooc but it’s ok
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SCENARIO NO. 1
you wake up to the smell of eggs and bacon. a smile appears on your face. you know it’s your husband by the way he’s humming his favorite novela tune in his deep and oh so attractive voice. you slide your legs off the bed and stretch, sliding your feet into your slippers. you stand up and walk down the steps, also hearing the sweet giggles of you two’s sweet chubby cheeked daughter. “i can hear mami coming down the stairs!” miguel whispers to his daughter, shuffling somewhere downstairs. you make your way in the kitchen to see..no one?
“boo!” babbles your daughter, giggling as hard as she can. “ahh!” you fake scream, grabbing your daughter and blowing raspberries into her cheeks. “good morning, handsome.” you say to miguel, kissing his cheek. “good morning, hermosa.” he says right back, walking to the stove to pour the pancake batter onto the skillet. “smells good.” you compliment, putting your daughter in her high chair.
“thank you, cariño.” you sit down yourself and scroll through your instagram, liking photos here and then.
“all done. come eat.” you stand up and make a plate for you and your daughter, setting it on her high chair tray, kissing her on her forehead. “thank you, love.”
“anything for you.”
SCENARIO NO. 2
it’s just you and miguel in the kitchen dancing, your head on his chest and you two’s daughter at your mothers house. “you’re so beautiful.” miguel says, tilting your head up to face his beautiful deep brown eyes. “i can say the same about you…” you grin, standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on his plump lips.
“you’re so perfect. you gave me a beautiful daughter, a beautiful home, and a perfect you. you’re my world, amor.” he says, tears seem to well in his eyes. “are you about to cry?” you give a half chuckle, feeling as if you’re about to cry yourself.
“i know i know it’s just…i love you so much..how can i not cry when you’re so…perfect to me?” miguel picks you up and put you on the counter, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “i love you too. you’re so good to me. i’m glad to have you as my husband.” and with that, you two share a deep and meaningful kiss.
SCENARIO NO. 3
smut ahead (i couldnt resist)
you pant and moan as your husband laps at your cunt.
“shit..mig’ ,baby, slow down!” you groan, pulling his head deeper into your cunt. you can feel him pull away and you arch your back in neediness.
“dammit….so perfect.” miguel and you both perk up at the sounds of…crying. dammit. “i’ll go get her.” you say, rolling off of the bed and walk to the white and red framed nursery. “hey baby..” you coo to your daughter, putting her onto your chest. you can hear miguel walking into the nursery with you two, engulfing you two with his big and broad arms. “my two babies.” you smile, seeing your daughters loose curls splayed out everywhere.
“thank you miguel.”
“for what?” he asks, pressing kisses to your neck.
“for being a great dad.” you say, leaning your head back and kissing his cheek.
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romana-after-dark · 5 months
Text
Room's on Fire: Pilot
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Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader
Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual
Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist
Spotify playlist
Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.
Warnings and Content:
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.
This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.
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"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.
"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”
Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.
Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”
“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”
Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”
With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”
Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”
The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.
They needed their Madonna.
Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.
His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.
So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.
So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.
“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.
Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.
“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.
“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”
“So you think she’s intact?”
“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”
Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.
“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.
Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”
Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.
He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”
Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting.  Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”
Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”
“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.
“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”
“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”
Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”
*
You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…
Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…
You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?
You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?
The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.
He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”
*
“But it is, of course, your choice.”
Your choice…
This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.
There was no choice.
“I am a servant to my lords.”
Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”
The what?
“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”
“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”
“Oh. Yes, of course then.”
Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.
“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.
Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.
“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.
Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”
Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”
“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.
“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.
“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”
Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”
You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”
He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”
You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.
Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.
“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”
He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”
“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”
The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.
“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.
Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”
All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”
William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.
You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.
“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”
“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.
“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.
Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.
“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”
“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”
A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.
“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”
The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”
He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.
“My Madonna.”
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WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long
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Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!
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jessybarnes · 10 months
Text
Fixer Upper
Pairing - Mechanic!Jensen x Single Mom!Reader
Rating - 18+ Only! Minors DNI
Tags - Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, SMUT, broke down car, walking alone on a deserted road, being a single mom, mentions of an ex, mentions of abuse, NSFW gifs, unprotected sex, reader on top, Jensen on top, and I think that’s it, but let me know if I need to add more to the tags. 
Word Count -  2.4k
Beta - @winecatsandpizza
Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly
A/N - This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you enjoy! :)
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“Dammit!”
You slammed the driver’s door to your car and kicked it for good measure. A new car was definitely a need, but who could afford one in this economy? Much less a tow truck and a mechanic. To top it all off, your AAA membership you had expired a month ago. Part of you wanted to just set the hunk of metal on fire, but that would make you feel better for all of five minutes before you’d really be shit out of luck. 
The afternoon sun reflected off the hood as you reached for the release latch. As soon as you lifted it up, hot grey smoke poured out making you cough. 
“Well, that’s just fuckin’ perfect. Icing on the damn cake.”
You put your hands on your hips and turned to look at the long stretch of highway that went in both directions. Not only was your car broken down on the side of the road, but the nearest town was at least twenty minutes in both directions. To make things even more annoying, your phone had died about ten minutes before your car did so it looked like the only thing left to do was to start walking. 
Grabbing your keys and purse, you locked the car and started walking along the shoulder of the road. At least it was nice out, not a cloud in the sky, and fairly warm. The faint feeling of a summer breeze blew strands of hair out behind you as your car became smaller and smaller in the distance. A fence came into view after about fifteen minutes of walking, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was pretty inviting. 
You brushed one of the wooden planks off and plopped down on it with a sigh. Maybe your Mother was right, maybe you should have moved back in with her until you could get back on your feet. But no, you just had to be stubborn and prove to her that you could make it on your own as a single mother. Swallowing your pride wasn’t something that came easily for you. So, you’d do what you always do and find a way to fix whatever was broken. 
Just as you were about to get up and start walking again, a red Chevy truck came into view. You had never thought about hitchhiking, but the thought of it driving past seemed worse than the former. Your hands waved to get the driver’s attention and then gave him room to pull off on the shoulder of the road. What you weren’t expecting was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen get out and approach you. 
“Everything okay, ma’am?”
Your mind was still reeling from the fact that this man was talking to you when you realized he’d asked you a question. 
“Umm yeah, I uhh…my car broke down and my phone died so umm…I was just going to walk until I found civilization.”
A look of concern flashed across his face as he looked around. 
“How long have you been out here walking? I don’t see a car anywhere.”
You shrugged like it was no big deal and gestured in the direction of your unreliable hunk of metal. 
“Cars a ways that way. I’ve been walking for maybe twenty minutes? I don’t know. I kinda lost track of time.” 
The man shook his head and looked firmly down at you. 
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“Yeah, I’m not letting a pretty lady walk alone on this stretch of road. At least let me take you and your car back to my shop. You look like you could use a break.”
Did you die and go to Heaven? There is no way that you got this lucky. The one car you see on this deserted road turns out to be a mechanic and he’s this good-looking? Yeah, no, things like this didn’t happen to you. 
“Thank you, sir. I don’t have much money, but I can give you what I have for gas.”
He shook his head again and opened the passenger side door. 
“Please, call me Jensen. I don’t want your money, sweetheart. It sounds like you need it more than I do.” 
“Thanks, and you can call me Y/N.”
You smiled at him and climbed into the cab of his truck. The ride to your car and back to his shop took less time than you anticipated. You quickly found yourself warming up to Jensen. He radiated kindness and you felt like you’d known him for years. You told him you were a single mother, and how your daughter was staying with your parents until you got yourself moved into your new apartment. Mentions of your ex came up, but you tried to avoid delving too much into your past life with Tanner. He’d been abusive, and you pushed those memories to the back of your mind at all costs. 
Jensen pulled his truck into a big open yard and you noticed an arched sign that read Singer’s Auto stood high above the entrance. He lowered your car to the ground and unhooked it from the hitch before leading you inside. 
“Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, sweet tea, whiskey, rum, and any type of soda you can imagine.”
For the first time all day, your smile met your eyes. This man was too good to be true. If only you could be in a relationship with something this amazing. Jensen had to be either gay or unavailable because there was no way he was single with a personality like this. Let alone his looks. 
“I’d like some sweet tea, please. Thank you so much for doing all this. I’m sure you’ve got a family to get home to, and the last thing you probably wanted to do today was help a hitchhiker and her piece of shit car.”
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The confused look he gave you made you instantly regret your words. Here was this man going out of his way to help you, and your brain-to-mouth filter probably just fucked everything up. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t appreciate everything.
“Don’t get me wrong, Jensen. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I just have this mindset where I wait for the other shoe to fall. I’ve never really done well in the relationship department, and I’ve always been let down eventually. You’ve only just met me and you don’t need this kind of turmoil. I should probably go. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”
It took a moment for Jensen to get his bearings, but once he did you felt his hand gently grab your wrist. He slowly spun you around to face him, and his eyes bore into yours with a fire you hadn’t seen on a man before. 
“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart wait a minute. Can’t a guy just help a beautiful lady out without her thinking she’s being a burden? Y/N, listen, I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. There’s just something about you, something that draws me in, and I can’t seem to put a finger on it.”
For a few minutes, you both were silent. Staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity made you want to look away, but something stronger kept your gaze locked onto his. Ever so slowly, Jensen closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you. His kiss ignited a fire in your core that had been dormant for as long as you could remember. 
When he pulled away, his pupils were just as lust blown as your own. Soon you were pushed against the nearest wall, his work uniform becoming disheveled along with your outfit. 
“I don’t know what it is Jensen, but I have never wanted someone so much in my life. I only just met you, and the thoughts I’m having scare me, but at the same time it’s thrilling.”
Your hands came to rest on his muscular chest as his hands cupped your face. 
“It scares the shit out of me too, Y/N, but I really want this,” 
Jensen admitted as he continued to devour your body with his eyes.  
“Do you want this as much as I do? If you don’t, we can stop. I’ll fix your car and we can both be on our way.  If you’d let me, though, I’d love to show you what it’s like to have a real man, Y/N.”
Instead of answering him, you pressed your lips firmly against his. Immediately his arms traveled down your small frame and came to rest on the back of your thighs. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. His clothed erection pressed against your pussy making a small moan escape your mouth. 
Jensen began leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He grabbed one of your breasts in each hand and began to massage them gingerly, his thumbs grazing over your nipples making them harden instantly. 
“You have entirely too many clothes on Y/N.”
You smirked and stepped away, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. It sent heat straight to your core seeing the effect you had on Jensen. His eyes roamed your body like a starving man, and the arousal in his pants was hard to miss. 
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“You know, I’m no expert on lovemaking, but I’m pretty sure it’s easier to do when you’re naked, Jensen.”
A low growl escaped his throat as he stalked toward you like he was a predator. He picked you up and flung you over his shoulder making you squeal. 
“Jensen! Put me down! Where are we going?!”
“Bedroom.”
The one simple word held many promises as he climbed the stairs with ease. Seconds later you were placed gingerly on the comforter of his bed. He only left you for a moment to turn the light off and shut the door, and then he was on you again. His calloused hands pushed your shirt off your shoulders and slowly pulled it off each of your arms. 
Even though he was undressing you agonizingly slow, you relished in the fact that a man was paying this much attention to you. Your ex was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy who was only interested in getting off before going back to his video games. Your mind completely forgot about your ex as soon as Jensen pulled down your bra exposing your breasts, his lips closed over one of your hardened nipples greedily sucking into his mouth. 
“Mmmm Jay … Fuck that feels so good”
He moved to the other nipple paying it as much attention before leaving a trail of kisses down to your navel. 
“You’re so beautiful Y/N”
Jensen made quick work of the rest of your clothes before taking his off as well. If you thought he was gorgeous with clothes on, he was even more glorious without them. Perfect was the only description appropriate for the man that stood before you. 
“C’mere Jensen. I won’t bite.”
You winked at him invitingly, and he let out this full-body laugh that was contagious.
“Y/N I don’t know if I believe that.”
He climbed onto the bed and positioned his body over yours before pulling you in for another kiss. His tongue swept your lower lip asking for permission which you granted almost immediately. Your body arched up, his cock hard as a rock pressing against your leg.
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“Please … need you.”
Jensen smirked against your pulse point, grinding himself along your slick folds. 
“Gonna have to be a little more specific Princess. Where do you need me exactly?”
If you could form a coherent thought you’d make a smart-ass comment, but right now you barely knew your name. Much less able to speak in full sentences. 
“Fuck me, Jay! Wanna feel your cock inside me. Please!”
Jensen lined himself up and slowly thrust inside you, his cock filling you up inch by inch was almost enough to make you cum right then. It had been a while since you’d been with a man, and he hadn’t prepped you. 
“Unnghh fuck … you’re so wet and tight for me, Y/N.”
Your nails dug into his biceps, his forehead resting on yours as you both got used to each other. 
“Make love to me, Jay.”
Ever so slowly, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His moans were barely heard over your cries of need. The steady rhythm of his cock hitting your sweet spot made the coil in your lower belly tighter and tighter. You wouldn’t last long with him like this, and you wanted desperately to make him cum with you. 
“Let me ride you, Jensen.”
The look he gave you was almost primal. In a matter of seconds, he had flipped over onto his back and helped you sink down onto his throbbing length. 
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“Christ, Y/N, I’m not gonna last like this.”
Using the muscles in your thighs, you rose up off his cock and looked deeply into his eyes.
“Neither will I, Jay. Want you to cum with me.”
His hands held onto your sides as you began to ride him. His hips rose to meet yours, thrusting his cock deeper into your soaked cunt, and pretty soon he was completely in control again. Your cries echoed off the walls as your climax neared. 
“J-Jay! I … I’m so close baby! Please … make me cum!”
One of his hands left your side and began rubbing circles around your clit.
“Your wish is my command, princess.”
Seconds later, he felt your walls tighten around his cock, as you both fell over the edge together. Your chest heaved as you aid beside him on the bed. He covered you up before cradling your face and kissing you sweetly.
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Jensen pulled away, his smile met his eyes as he looked at you with nothing but love.
“So, how about some sweet tea?”
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