#i am going to hell for numerous things maybe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cap-trio · 3 months ago

Text

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)

summary: After a bad fight, Matt ends up in a coma. Unsure if he's going to make it or not, you decide to finally get something off your chest. It feels safer to confess assuming he most likely can't hear you, but when Matt wakes up, you find out you were wrong.

pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

tags: Angst, fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions

tw: Mention of a coma and hospitals

word count: 4.5K | Read on AO3

You get the phone call on a Tuesday night.

It started as a typical day; you got up at 6:00 on the dot to get ready for work. Matt met you at your door at 7:30 to walk with you, despite your numerous protests you could make it to work fine on your own. Not to mention your apartment was out of his way by ten minutes. But he knew about the danger that lurked around every corner of Hell’s Kitchen and when it came to you, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Foggy’s name lights up your phone. Nothing out of the ordinary, but things go south as soon as you accept the call. “Hey, what’s -”

“Matt’s in the hospital,” he interrupts. “He’s in a coma.”

The phone falls to the ground, and you ignore Foggy’s voice calling your name. You don’t care that the screen is definitely cracked. You have tunnel vision and can only focus on Matt. You hear Foggy repeatedly asking if you’re okay and that you’re still on the line.

Sinking to the ground, you pick the phone back up. “Sorry, I’m here. What hospital?”

After getting the address, you make it there in record time. You don’t even bother waiting for the elevator, instead climbing the stairs two at a time to floor five. The ICU.

Foggy and Karen greet you in the lobby. Both look disheveled, with fresh tears on their cheeks, dark circles under their eyes, and hair askew from constantly running their hands through it. “What happened? Is he…” going to make it? You can’t bring yourself to finish the question. If you don’t say it, you won’t accidentally speak it into existence. You don’t want to let your thoughts go down that path, but how can you not?

“Fisk got to him,” Karen’s voice is low. “We don’t know what Matt told them happened, or if he said anything at all.”

“He called me, and I knew this was worse than the other times. He could barely breathe and then he passed out. I called 911, then you guys. It’s just been a waiting game.” Foggy takes a deep breath. “All I could make out was something about Fisk and how he got the upper hand this time.”

It takes every last ounce of strength not to collapse to the floor. Karen notices and leads you over to the seating area. “When can I see him?”

“We aren’t sure; they haven’t left his room. No updates yet, ” Foggy replies.

You were on a mission to get to the hospital as fast as you could. Now that you’re here, everything hits you like a truck. It’s a pain you’ve never felt before, like someone carved a hole in your chest, ripping out your heart like they were pulling weeds out of a garden, leaving you hollow. So hollow you can’t even cry. Everything is just numb like the switch controlling your emotions was flipped off. It’s like an out-of-body nightmare; you’re aware it’s not real, but you’re stuck anyway, forced to live in it. What you wouldn’t give for this to only be a fucked up dream.

The three of you sit in the lobby, hands interlocked, waiting in silence. Between the fluorescent lighting beating down like the sun, the faint sound of heart monitors, and the receptionists carrying on conversations like you weren’t at risk of losing your friend, you knew you couldn’t handle it for much longer before going crazy.

Maybe that would be okay though. It would prove you could still feel something other than the shell of who you were an hour ago.

“Am I broken?” Your voice is just above a whisper. “Why am I not breaking down in tears? Or having a panic attack?”

“It’s a stressful situation. Your body doesn’t know how to respond, so it’s pretty much just…not. It’s normal to shut down, so I promise you aren’t broken,” Karen assures you.

“I’m at the same level. I don’t want this to be real, so my body is responding like it’s not. Like this is all some fucked up dream,” Foggy adds.

For some reason, Foggy’s words are what bring on the tears. Not a gut-wrenching sob like you had expected, but still something. “Shit, was it something I said?” He asks.

“No. Yes,” you let out a small laugh. “I was just thinking how grateful I am that you two are here with me. If I were alone…” You don’t finish the thought, and you don’t need to. They know exactly what you mean.

Karen pulls you in for a hug, shedding a few tears herself. Foggy tries to brush off how he’s doing the same. The receptionist notices and quietly brings over an extra box of tissues and gives an apologetic smile. The sound of the door opening separates you three in hopes it’s any sort of update, but they go to the other family waiting.

An hour passes. You don’t move from your seat.

Another hour. Foggy goes to the vending machine for snacks. You don’t eat.

The third hour is when the panic really starts to seep in. You don’t want to be one of those people, but you’re about to go to the desk and demand some sort of update. Instead, you pace around the lobby to try and release the nervous energy.

The sound of the doors opening again freezes you in your tracks. Finally, a doctor appears. “Murdock crew?” She calls out. The three of you race over, but she says, “It’s best if we sit down.” Nervous glances are shared. That’s a telltale sign things are most definitely not good.

“So, I’ll start by saying Matthew has improved since he first arrived. Vitals are almost where we want them, but he needs to stay in a medically induced coma while we continue working on him. I don’t want to make any guarantees as he’s still in bad shape. Matthew is suffering from a concussion, several broken ribs, and internal bleeding. The coma could last up to a month, depending on whether or not he shows signs of recovery.”

Whether or not. Her words ring in your ears. Or not. Or not. Or not.

“But he’ll live, right? People have survived worse. He’ll be fine. Right?” Foggy sounds delirious, not that you can blame him. It’s not the update you guys were hoping for.

“Like I said, I don’t want to make any promises. I’m sorry I can’t give any definitive answers. Just know we’re working our absolute hardest.”

“Can we at least see him?” You beg.

“Not tonight, unfortunately. We’re hoping he’ll be ready for visitors in the next few days. We’ll keep you guys updated. For now, I recommend getting some rest and making sure you’re fed and hydrated. In stressful times, we tend to shut down and not take care of ourselves. We’ll call if anything changes, good or bad.”

Good or bad. Or bad. Or bad. Or bad.

“Thank you,” Karen says with a small smile.

She leaves the three of you alone again. “I don’t want to go home,” you admit. If something happens and you aren’t here, you’ll never forgive yourself.

“They don’t let people stay overnight,” Foggy sighs. “My apartment is the closest, why don’t we all head there and at least try to sleep?”

You’re all too exhausted to walk, so Karen hails a taxi. No one speaks, not even the driver. He takes one look at your group, mumbles a “sheesh” to himself, and starts the drive to Foggy’s apartment.

He provides some pajamas for you and Karen while you all set up camp in the living room. Phones charging and on the loudest setting, you all settle into your positions for the night. Karen on the couch, you on an air mattress, Foggy on the loveseat. It would almost be a fun sleepover if not given the circumstances. Not to mention how empty it feels without Matt.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to sleep, but the fatigue kicks in and you can’t resist it any longer. Hoping to get an escape from this hell, you close your eyes and slip into an escape.

“We’re sorry. We tried everything, but Matthew wasn’t able to pull through. You’re welcome to come in and say your goodbyes. Again, our condolences. He was a fighter.” A painful sob comes from deep within you. You don’t even recognize yourself, everything feels raw and cracked. Grief fills you to the brim, like a thick smoke clouding your lungs, enough to leave you choking and gasping for air. You follow behind Foggy and Karen to say your goodbyes to Matt. The sight of him lying lifeless in the hospital bed sends you collapsing to the floor.

You wake with a scream. Foggy and Karen shoot up, immediately asking what happened. You can’t answer yet; your body takes a second to come back to reality and recognize it was just an awful dream. But it could happen, a twisted voice reminds you.

“I’m so sorry. I was having a nightmare, and it felt so real,” you sigh.

“It’s okay, we’re here,” Karen squeezes your hands. “I think we all had the same dream.”

Foggy nods in agreement. “Just wanted to get some rest, but here we are.” He chuckles humorlessly.

No one knows what to say next. Nothing can be said to make anyone feel better; trying would be pointless. It would all just feel like one person is saying what everyone wants to hear when really, no one has a clue how this will play out.

“Maybe we watch a movie? It doesn’t seem like sleep is an option, and it might be somewhat of a distraction,” Karen suggests.

It’s better than sitting in silence, especially when that silence invites dark thoughts to creep in, so Foggy fires up the TV and finds the most absurd comedy he can find.

Eventually, the three of you are able to doze off again by the time a second movie plays. No bad dreams happen this time, but the sound of someone's ringtone jostles everyone awake. The small amount of light peaking in lets you know it's sometime the next day, but everything feels disorienting.

Foggy answers and puts the phone on speaker. “Hello, we’d like to let you know Matt is ready for visitors. Our visiting hours are from 9:00 a.m to 9:00 p.m every day. If anything about that changes, we’ll reach out.”

“Thank you so much,” Foggy says before hanging up. Everyone takes a few minutes to freshen up before catching a cab back to the hospital. Anxiety courses through you, though it's different from last night. You’re not sure what you're going to say to Matt, or how he’ll look; you feel entirely unprepared. Having Karen and Foggy with you makes it a little less scary at least.

Karen checks in with the receptionist, and five minutes later a nurse comes to let the three of you in. She pauses outside his door. “I want to warn you that he looks pretty beaten up. It won't be easy seeing him in this state, but having someone with him might be good for his recovery.”

She has everyone take a deep breath before opening the door. Matt looks similar to how he did in your nightmare, all bloody and bruised, hooked up to various machines with tubes. You’ve seen him after a fight before, even helped clean him up, but it was never like this. Not even what the nurse said could’ve prepared you.

“What should we say to him? Anything that could make him wake up?” You ask.

“Hearing familiar voices is good no matter what. We recommend just telling him about your day, or maybe reading him a book he likes. Anything that feels right for you.”

None of this feels right, you want to scream. Instead you thank her for the tips.

“I’ll leave you guys alone, but feel free to press that button if you need anything at all.” She gestures to a CALL button near Matt’s bed before slipping out the door.

It's silent at first while everyone takes in the sight of him.

“Maybe tell him a story from college?” You suggest to Foggy. “It might be good to hear something familiar.”

He launches into the avocados at law story which has you and Karen laughing. You would’ve loved to have known them back then.

“I don’t think anything I say will top that,” Karen says. “I don’t even know what to say, anyway.”

Foggy assures her anything will be better than nothing, so she tearfully tells Matt how grateful she is for her and Foggy’s help during her trial. It moves you and Foggy to tears too, and everyone ends up a blubbery mess.

“Sorry to kill the mood,” she chuckles. “What’ve you got?” She asks you.

You decide to tell him about the first day he showed up at your apartment to walk you to work. How you weren’t expecting him at all, given that you’d only been friends for a few weeks at that point and he never mentioned he would be there. How even though you poked fun at him for it at first, he makes you feel safer and you’re lucky to have him.

“I didn’t even know he does that,” Karen says.

“I always thought it was weird when he’d be late for work when it wasn’t related to his…activities,” Foggy adds, not knowing if anyone outside the room could hear. “He really loves us all, huh?”

That brings on more tears. How grateful are you all to have someone like Matt in your lives?

“Alright, I think I’ve had enough crying for the rest of my life,” Karen laughs.

“I think it’d be good to talk about our day like the nurse suggested,” you say. “Not after we found out what happened, but before that.”

And that’s what the three of you do for the next week and a half, once a day and always together. Foggy brings up the idea of doing separate visits, suggesting it might be good for some alone time with him.

Your first visit alone is awkward. Without Karen and Foggy to describe your days together, you aren’t sure what to say. It’s like trying therapy for the first time, knowing you have things to talk about, but being too scared to bring anything up, making it feel too real.

His progress has been up and down, worrying you that it might stay like that for months. Or years. And there is one thing that Matt doesn’t know about you, a secret you’ve acknowledged and thrown into a locked box, refusing to open it. The sick, dark voice from before warns you this may be the only chance you get to tell him.

“Hi, Matt. It’s just me today; we decided it might be good to spend some alone time with you. Uh, today was alright. We went to Josie’s, played some pool, and had a few beers. Felt empty without you though. I’m trying to stall here because I want to tell you something. Something big. But I’m terrified, and a wuss, so I have to do it while you probably can’t hear me or respond at all.” You laugh at yourself for being so ridiculous.

“Well, here goes nothing,” you pause. “So uh, I’m kind of in love with you? Not sure why I phrased it like a question. I know I’m in love with you, and it scares the shit out of me. We’ve known each other for years, and I don’t know if telling you is worth the risk. I care about you too much to let some feelings get in the way. So yeah, that’s my secret.”

You’re not sure if you feel better or worse now that it’s out there. It feels good to get it off your chest, but nothing has really changed by admitting it. Matt will continue to be oblivious to your feelings while you have to continue carrying them around.

Exhaustion kicks in and you slump back in the chair. Just as your eyes begin to drift shut, you hear a groan and shoot awake. Matt starts stirring, mumbling to himself, and you watch helplessly before adrenaline kicks in.

“Nurse! I need a nurse!” You shout into the hallway. They instruct you to wait in the hall; on your way out, you see Matt’s eyes open and you let out a gasp. You swear you see him reach for you, but you’re also feeling a bit delirious so it could be your mind playing tricks on you.

You call Karen and Foggy with the news. Less than ten minutes later, the three of you are standing outside of his room, playing another round of the dreaded waiting game. You fill them in on the moments leading up to Matt waking up, purposefully leaving out details of the conversation.

Thirty minutes go by until one of the nurses comes into the hallway. “He’s awake and stable. You can come in and see him, but I’ll warn he may be slightly out of it.”

Matt gives a weak smile as the three of you enter. “How do I look?”

“Out of it, my ass,” Foggy laughs. “You look like shit.”

“Ouch. Aren’t you supposed to be nice to someone in a hospital bed? A blind man I might add.”

“Little too late to be playing the blind card,” Karen adds.

He turns in your general direction. “What’s your verdict?”

“I’m with these two. You’ve looked better.”

It feels good to be joking around like this again. Things certainly aren’t back to normal, but this is a step in the right direction.

“Even though you hurt my feelings, could we talk alone for a second?”

Foggy and Karen exchange a look and turn to raise their eyebrows at you. You shrug, indicating you’re not sure what this is about.

“I better get some alone time too,” Foggy pouts.

“There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Your friends leave, and as soon as the door shuts you feel like you’re suffocating with anxiety. What could he want to talk about that he couldn’t say in front of his best friends?

“Can I ask you about something?”

“Of course. Anything.” Your voice shakes when you answer.

“Earlier, right before I woke up, I thought I heard you say you’re in love with me.”

Panic settles in hard and fast, like being taken under by a cold ocean wave when your back is facing the water, unexpected and unpleasant.

Fuck.

“That’s not a question.” Stupid. It's the only thing your brain can think of to say, trying to delay the shitstorm that’s brewing.

“Okay,” his mouth quirks up into a small smile, trying to cover a laugh. He knows you well enough to know what you're doing. “Let me rephrase - are you in love with me?”

“I uh, no. I’m not. Must've been a crazy coma dream or something!” Your laugh that follows is too loud and brash to sound even remotely convincing.

“You’re lying.” There isn’t any uncertainty in his voice. He says it like it’s a known fact and not an educated guess.

“Wow, I feel like I should be offended,” you huff. You’re not sure why you’re angry at him when he’s right. Or maybe you’re angry that this conversation is even happening when you vowed to take these feelings to the grave. “I promise I’m not.”

“You are.” The way he emphasizes the word sucks all the air out of the room. That one word makes everything feel different. It’s confirmation you can’t brush this conversation off. Matt isn’t going to let it go.

“Jesus Matt, can we just drop it? I told you, I never said it. I don’t know why you can’t believe me. And is this really the most important thing to be focusing on right now?”

“To me? Yes, it is that important. And I can tell you’re lying.”

You roll your eyes. He knows even though he can’t see it, because he knows you. “Because of what, my laugh? I admit I sounded weird, but -”

He cuts you off. “It was your heartbeat.” He’s frustrated that you can’t understand, as if this is some normal thing people can do, or like he’s mentioned it before and it’s something you just casually forgot. Like you would ever forget something like that.

You snort at how unbelievable this situation has gotten. “My heartbeat? What the hell are you talking about?”

Surely this is a weird side effect of the concussion. Maybe he’s hearing things now? Or he’s playing some weird prank on you? You should probably call the nurse back in.

“I can hear people’s heartbeat. When they lie, it changes rhythms. When you said you aren’t in love with me it got faster. So I’m asking you again, are you in love with me?”

“Matt, you can’t just brush that off like it isn’t the most insane thing I’ve ever heard! You expect me to believe you, especially when you can’t prove it? Look, I’m gonna call in the nurse and have her check your head because clearly, the concussion isn’t any better.”

You reach for the call button but he grabs your wrist before you can press it. Warmth spreads across the spots where his fingers are touching you. Now is not the time you try to relay that message to your body. It doesn’t listen.

He lets go of your wrist and sighs. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“Yes. You constantly made up excuses when you’d show up to work with mysterious bruises or cuts. Not gonna work in this argument.”

“I didn’t realize we were arguing,” he raises an eyebrow. “But to be fair, that was only to keep you safe. Have I ever lied about anything else?”

“I don’t know, I can’t hear your heartbeat.”

Now he rolls his eyes. “I know you’re trying to avoid talking about it. But please know I wouldn’t make something like this up. After the accident, my senses got heightened more than what would happen to the average person. I know it seems like I’m an asshole for keeping something like this private, like I use it to take advantage of people, but I don’t. Even when someone lies, I don’t force them into telling the truth. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

He sounds exhausted, and can you blame him? Having to live with this gift, but knowing he can’t really do anything with it, would take a toll on anyone.

But he’s also putting you in an uncomfortable position, despite claiming he doesn’t use it against people. “So why are you doing it to me now?”

“I’m sorry. We can drop it, but don’t you want to know why I’m so hung up on this? Why I’m seconds away from getting on my knees and begging you to tell the truth?”

Yes. No. Because admitting that makes this all too real. Too scary. It opens up a door you want to bolt shut because it allows too many what-ifs into the mix. What if things don’t work out? What if you work better as friends and break up, making everything complicated? You could write a whole book full of different scenarios.

But there is another possibility: what if Matt loves you too?

It’s enough to make you want to unlock the door and throw it open. “I do.”

Time seems to stand still. You both know what’s coming, and it scares the hell out of you, but it’s worth it. He’s worth it.

“Tell the truth. Please, I want to hear you say it.”

You already did, you want to point out. But now isn’t the time to be a smart ass, not with the way his gaze is piercing you and the tension rising with every second unspoken.

“I’m in love with you, Matt.”

Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound is music to his ears, better than any song he’s heard. If he wasn’t ruined by you before, he sure is now.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“Good, or else that would’ve been really embarrassing.”

He laughs. “Now was that so hard to admit?”

“Oh please! You didn’t give me much of an option.” You deepen your voice in a terrible attempt to mock him, “I’m Matt and I can hear people’s heartbeats, so I know when they lie. I’m in love with you too, but instead of saving time and saying that, I’m gonna make you do it first. Even though I clearly heard you before.”

You both erupt into laughter; you can physically feel yourself getting lighter as the crushing weight of tension leaves your body.

“I’m never going to get over hearing you say that,” he admits.

“I won’t either.” You pause, feeling a shift in the conversation tone. “I honestly never wanted you to know. I only said it because I was scared of losing you, and it was a cowardly way of getting it off my chest. I tried convincing myself maybe you also felt that there was always something more between us, but then I’d get in my head and decide you didn’t. Decided it wouldn’t be worth losing you if I said something and you turned me down, but then I thought I’d lose you in a different way.” Your voice cracks at the end, and you force the tears back in, hating that you’re making things serious again.

“I’ve always felt it,” Matt confesses. “I never wanted to pressure you or make things weird if I misread the signs. Am I happy this is what it took for us to be together? Of course not, I pictured this moment a million different ways, and not one involved a hospital. But I am happy it happened. So unbelievably happy.”

“I am too. I’ve wanted this for years.”

“I really want to kiss you, but…” he gestures to his current state.

“We can make it work. We’ll just be careful.”

“I’ll make it up to you when I’m healed,” he smirks. He gets a little cocky from how he can make your heartbeat quicken, and how intimate it is that only the two of you can experience it together.

“Such a tease,” you roll your eyes, leaning down inches from his mouth.

“You’re one to talk.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

His hands cup your chin while yours rests on his hip, careful not to apply any pressure. You can both feel the other holding back; his lips are just grazing yours, but it’s enough to feel like hot lava is coursing through you. If his lingering touches over the years left sparks in their wake, kissing him is like being electrocuted. It’s delicate and sweet and you’re overwhelmed with how right it feels. The only thing on Matt’s mind are you and more, but he knows this is just the beginning.

So instead he focuses on the now, mentally adding this moment to a scrapbook of memories filled with you.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil born again #cassie writes

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cybermannete · 29 days ago

Note

Any kind of trans male reader x Chance smut..? Maybe?

-Guy that has fallen for that D20 so hard

havent we all fallen for this d20? im this close to buying a red d20 just so i can carry it with me ;;

(contains: porn with somewhat plot, obviously smut, chance ofc being a sweetheart, reader is a trans male, and has had top surgery. whether they have had bottom surgery is up to you, my dear reader. this is my first time ever writing a trans reader so please correct me if i do anything wrong.)

He meant it when he told you you were perfect. No matter what you looked like, no matter what your name was. He loved you. Your smile, your creativity, how eager you seemed to play G&G with him, and how you let him sit and do his fun little villain monologues that he worked so hard on.

When you told him you were exploring your gender identity, he was immediately supportive and accommodating for you. He fired off numerous questions for you, asking if you wanted him to call you by a different name, if you wanted him to change your character to fit whatever you were envisioning, etc. He even offered to come with you the first time you cut your hair.

He started calling you "handsome" instead of beautiful, he started calling you his boyfriend, anything he could to make you feel comfortable and happy.

After your top surgery, he was all over you. He refused to let you get up for anything during recovery. He'd run down to the kitchen to get water, he'd grab any snack from the pantry, and he even moved all of his tabletop stuff to your bed so you both could play games. Hell, he even rolled your dice for you!

When it came time to remove your bandages, Chance didn't' want to do anything unless you asked him to. After all, this was your thing. He didn't want to intrude in any way on letting you have your time to yourself. But, you asked him to come with you and help.

He saw the look in your eyes, the sheer nervousness and anticipation as you look in your bathroom mirror. He gave you a soft smile, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Take all the time you need.. I'm right here."

You gave him the go ahead, and he tenderly helped you remove your bandages. Slowly but surely, your chest was coming to view. You blinked, feeling emotions well up in your eyes and lodge in your throat as you got a look at you. The you you loved, and the you that you had dreamed of for so long. Chance couldn't stop his smiles as he removed the last of the bandages, sighing as he rubbed your arms.

He wanted to stay strong, be supportive and emotionally strong. But seeing how happy you were, how perfect you looked. He noticed that the sparkle in your eyes came back. He hadn't seen you sparkle like that in so long. It was just like when you first met him.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. "Well..? How do you feel?"

You nod, a smile quirking at your lips. ".. I feel.. so happy. Look at me." You laugh, looking over at Chance, who's eyes were filled with warmth and pure adoration.

"I am.. I always am. I will never stop looking at you." He put his hand on your cheek. "You look so happy." He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You bring your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Chance's hands immediately found your waist, sliding around your back and touching your bare skin. You were warm and soft to the touch, and touching you would never, ever get old. He touched you like he would never touch you again.

Your fingers brushed over the hair on the nape of his neck, eliciting a soft groan against your lips. You breathlessly laugh, as Chance's kisses began to grow more hasty and desperate. He couldn't help it. He loved you. He pushed you up against the bathroom counter, pulling away from the kiss. "Uhm.. is this okay? I-I don't want to hurt you or.."

You nodded, "Nono.. it's okay.. it's okay.." You whisper, pulling him back in for another kiss. His hands tighten on your waist, and he grew more desperate with his lips. Nervously, he trailed kisses to the skin of your jaw, before latching onto the skin of your neck. Your fingers grip onto the back of his shirt, biting your lip to suppress the noises that came from your lips.

"You can be loud.. if you want to, that is.. I don't think anyone's listening in.." Sure Chance, surely the other 100 people in the house wouldn't have eyes or ears everywhere. Your eyes glance over to the toilet. Jean Loo, you will never speak of what you saw in this bathroom. Right when you snapped out of your thoughts, Chance bit down onto your neck, causing you to jump and make a small yelping sound. Chance murmured, "S-Sorry.. I couldn't help it." He rutted his hips into your thigh, the tent in his pants growing more noticeable. He whimpered at the back of his throat, humping your thigh like some kind of puppy. It was cute to watch, really. How he fell apart at your mercy.

His lips began to trail further and further down, before they kissed the space where your top surgery had taken place. He gazed up at you through dark lashes and hooded eyes.. He then pressed a featherlight kiss on the scar, and he murmured. "I love you so much.. you look perfect.. and so happy.." You curl your fingers in his hair, a silent praise for him. His breathing hitched, and he hooked his strong arms under your thigh to hoist you up onto the edge of the counter. He whispered. ".. n-need to fuck you now.. please? Can I do that..?"

You nodded, your fingers working sloppily to tug down your pajama pants, Chance struggling (and failing) to take off his own. Your legs were shaking, and your heart pounded in pure anticipation. Chance's nerves were through the roof. No matter how many times you've had sex, he always treated it like the first time..

He tugged you closer, before hoisting your legs higher up. He whispered, "If this hurts.. let me know.. and I'll be careful.." He swallowed your lips in a kiss as he angled himself juuust right.. and with a push of his hips, he slipped comfortably into you. The head was enough to make you tense up and whine. You still had.. what, 6 more inches to go? Might as well be a foot long.

He pushed more and more into you, his kisses muffling your simultaneous moans and quiet grunts the more he nestled himself into you. He pulled away from the kiss, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he gripped your waist so tight his fingers dug into your skin. "Oh my God.." He whispered, like a passionate prayer. His puppy dog eyes looked at you. "Can I move..? Is that okay?" He whispered, his cock already twitching inside of you.

Before you can even say yes, his cock slipped in and out of you painfully slow..

mm i love cliffhangers for smut.. :)

#reader insert #x reader #self insert #date everything #date everything x reader #chance date everything #chance x reader #smut

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edenspoem · 1 year ago

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YES PLEASE. BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE?? 90’s?? SIGN ME UP. WHERE DO I PUT MY NAME??😖😖🙏

- 🩵

a/n + cw; OMGG AN EMOJI ANON i haven't seen you guys in a hot minute, but YESSS BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE!! specifically x customer reader. it's a cute duo! and let me relay why from my very scrambled 3 am jot-down. was going to make this a blurb, but it better translates through something more structured. ++ SFW! kinda mean!reader tbh (but ellie likes that), very fluffy you might squeet, quickly written, awkwardness, ellie being a nerd. [first pic from amoaeIIie on pinterest]

Imagine Ellie, in her blockbuster getup, leaning her butt into the edge of the register counter, jamming to whatever is playing on her hand-me-down walkman; earsbuds in, eyes downcast, head bopping slowing - soundly unaware of you awaiting service on your over-due rental. "Hello?" your volume divides the soft ambiance of the store, but it isn't enough to rope Ellie's mindspace from the clouds. Calling out again, "Hell-looh?" you extend beyond the cash register and wave your hand - nothing, nada.

How the hell has this girl not gotten her ass fired yet?

After numerous roadblocks, a brazen last resort comes into play. You cut around the counter briefly to take things into your own hands (literally) because you have not the time, nor the patience, for her slacking off.

Beryl eyes drop sharply to the walkman in her pants pocket when a single earbud is spooled from her ear, assuming it fell - but to her surprise, it hung low from your finger, and a glance above that finger was your face. Risen of one brow, flat-lined of your lips; impatient.

And her entire focus blanks out when you begin to speak, curtly and satirically, "Hey, I know busting out your Dad's old walkman in public makes you feel cool and whatnot, but you're on the clock." handing the slim cord back over to a stunned girl, flushed behind the pop of her freckles. Maybe your tone of voice sent her higher into the clouds, past a coven of angels, because her lips part narrowly and remain still for a single second - save two or three. Or maybe it's 'cause you specified it as her 'Dad's' which was.. spot on.

And whatever excuse she had quickly cherry-picked for you, hesitated audibly in her throat before it split from it, "O-Oh, right, shit sorry - was about to end my shift n' thought the store was empty. My bad." scrambling to stuff the other earplug in her pocket and avert all attention to you. Very eagerly.

"Looks like you've got a late fee on this one.." her pitch pummeled deeper, and coarser as she concentrates on the clunky screen she hunches slightly to use. Scrunching the freckles of her face together, hogging the blue-lit screen. Poor girl probably forgot her glasses at home. "Annnd are you looking to rent the sequel?" she peeks her auburn head from the screen and holds up the cased movie, tracing her index over the plastic cleft, tapping twice. "To this - it has a second part."

There's no denying it: she is cute - and guilt rolls your guts around for being so snippy and sullen to her earlier. But based on her demeanor growing enthused the second she saw what movie you had in hand - she doesn't seem to care a hoot.

"Out of stock," replied you, indifferent-sounding - and strking; crossed arms, bent knee, stiffly-standing. Comparable to a millpond. "Guess I won't be the only person with late fees." you take a breath to jest, shaking loose strands of hair from your eyes.

"Haha," you're no world-class comedian; that joke wasn't all that funny, but the need to hurl any affirming noise at you, was necessary. Relenting to reflex. What can she say? Love at first sight! "Yeah, that seems like the agenda these days," Ellie sighs out, molding the plump of her lip under her teeth and reshapes it into a dorky smirk. Isn't she just a sweet chocolate-box of adorability?

"Hmm, bummer."

That hum and word trips into her ears, knocking some brain-cog, and an idea limns her features; they glow wide. "Actually - um, I've got a copy of the sequel at my place. Technically it's my Dad's, but.." her pitch fluctuates, mindlessly thumbing the case between two fiddly hands. "Maybe you can - if you want, not pressuring you or anything - come over?" she throws a pointed thumb backwards, motioning a potential future. "Watch it? If you weren't planning on watching it with somebody else."

Slick trick to seeing if you're single; of course you'd watch movies with your boyfriend - or girlfriend.

"Hmmm.." you hummed longer this time, and this time it admitted the mushrooming of an almost aggravating anticipation in her belly. Like you meant to torture her with 'hmms' and nothing but 'hmms' as your answer hung high in cloudy abeyance, until, "What's the name on your tag - ah, Ellie."

"Yeah?"

"Ellie," you confirm her name twice, and speak it to enthrall her full-scale attention. Made it sound fucking sugary sweet, through a swirly whisper and a twist of your head. "If you can give me a discount, or a full wipe on that late fee, then yes. It's a date."

Light panic ensues. "Date?" she croaks and laughs it off, "I mean - pshh, guess that's one way to put it." backtracking to her hunched, elbows-on-the-counter pose.

"You put it that way."

"Yeah, I just.. didn't wanna admit that." immediately, she uncurls her spine again, relaxing her muscles to somewhat peer at you. "Sure. No more fees." Rounded eyes lost - adamant on indirectly staring at you and the space below you, because Goddess forbid a stroke of idiocy flickers through her while gawking at you.

The store runs dead-quiet in the background of your conversation, leading you to one golden question. "Your shift over after this?"

Oh damn, her cheeks are pink. "Uh-huh," bet she's oblivious to that red-hot beam nearly bursting the seams to her face, too. Nasal lines fold as a severe smile tugs, shadowed by her bent thumb poking at it. "Takin' my car?"

And that's how you pick up girls at a video store in the 90s - the Ellie Williams way.

this isn't even the full idea

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nottivagos · 6 months ago

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i love art student danny im begging for more🙏 literally anythinh

Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Friday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: can this be classed as filth? i don't know. NONNIE, I AM GONNA BE SO HONEST WITH YOU, THIS ASK MOTIVATED ME TO FINISH THIS SO TYSM<3<3 this was originally going to be called "Crude Drawing Of An Angel" but i couldn't commit to a full fic, sorry! :(

The droning bell signalling the next period droned over Daniel’s campus. The lights were dim in the typically busy art department in his college. All the students had left after the lesson had ended, but here he still was, with you sitting pretty on his lap.

He didn’t understand why he was so nervous about it. You’d done this numerous times before, just when you actually had clothes on. Adjusting his glasses, he pushed them up the bridge of his nose before exhaling deeply, feeling the breath fan against his face slightly from his nostrils.

Maybe it was because you’d given him your time of day. You were special to him, not like he’d fully tell you that, as you’d been becoming his muse subtly. The way he hid his sketches around you explained that in more ways than others. Danny was used to just hiding in the shadows of the college art studio, left to his own devices to doodle in his crisp sketchbook or to play around with a new set of oils he’d bought due to him running low, but not this.

He’d completed many real-life pieces beforehand, but that was using models as references out of an odd Playboy magazine he used to keep hidden from his parents before he’d moved on campus. But having one on his lap? So intimately too? It was enough to make him drunk on the intense nerves he was feeling.

“Have you never had a naked lady on your lap before?” you whispered smoothly, eyebrow raised as your bare tits brushed against his clothed chest. Lazy arms rested on his shoulders, a knowing smile on your face as Danny looked on edge, unsure on where to place his own frantic palms to keep you stable in his lap.

Danny’s face fully flushed at the question, breathing hitched before he chuckled awkwardly, flashing a bashful smile that revealed his shiny braces whilst his brown doe eyes studied your own features. He let the question simmer in his mind for a moment, a gulp following as he tried to remove the embarrassment growing in his throat.

“N-No. Never,” a croaky voice replied, stuttering and fumbling on his words as his growing nervousness became more palpable.

“First time, huh,” you mumbled, a soft hand trailing from his shoulder to cupping his burning cheek with a smirk. “Makes sense why you’re so jittery then,” you added, brushing a soothing thumb over the scorching apple, making Danny divert his gaze elsewhere meekly.

He swallowed timidly again, squeezing his eyes shut briefly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly at the harsh gulp. Bashful and fidgety hands moved to hold your bare torso’s sides ever too tightly, nails piercing the flesh, as the grip on your body felt like a clammy vice.

Giggling softly at his skittish body language, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of cuteness in your stomach. He really was a nervous thing. “You’re so cute, Danny,” the compliment rolled off of your tongue sweetly, your thumb coming down to trail his freshly shaven jawline. “All bashful like this…” you trailed off, thumb now pressing against his bottom lip with a gentle ease, “makes me wanna keep you like this forever,” you continued with another small, giddy smile.

He didn’t dare look at you. If anything, he didn’t know where to look. Did he look at your bare tits or at your face? Both ideas made his brain fuzzy— a flurry of frantic thoughts jumbling together— and his insides jump with excitement.

Danny was painfully hard. The tension of his erection in the confines of his boxers didn’t help. It was embarrassing, really. How the hell did someone get hard from a woman just sitting on their lap? His giddiness was the equivalent of a horny teenager having their first partner kiss them for the first time, and if anything, that made him more cuter in your eyes.

“Someone’s a bit excited,” you giggled, eyes flicking down to his clothed hardness before looking back down at his face from above. His eyes had followed yours, as your hand came to guide his gaze back up on your own when you cupped his jaw, flashing a knowing smile.

“I-I’m not!” He protested, practically blurting the words out in desperation but failing miserably to convince you. “I’m just not used to it, that’s all,” he added with another bashful mumble, his doe gaze fixed on yours.

“Keep telling yourself that, Danny,” you teased lightheartedly with a small scoff. “I bet if I whispered in your ear right now that you looked beautiful, you’d come in your boxers,” you added with a smug smile, to which Danny replied with wide eyes. “Or maybe if I taught you how to touch my breasts properly you would too?”

“I mean, is that really necessary? I don’t—” Danny messed up his words dramatically, his cheeks pricked a deep crimson colour as you looked down at him with that cheeky glimpse in your eye. “—think it’s necessary, that’s all,” he tried to protest again with a low voice as slow hands came to place his hands on your soft breasts, the intimacy of the action electric.

“That’s better,” you mumbled quietly, half-lidded eyes darkening at the sight. “Such a good boy for me, aren’t you, Danny?”

“Y-yes,” he muttered almost instantly, following your eyes so intently. Such a good boy for you, following your every movement like an eager little puppy. It made you adore him more really, he was useless like this, and that’s what made it endearing.

Danny shifted uncomfortably on his stool, the stifling hardness of his erection fighting his boxers was becoming torturous. It created some friction that made you gasp softly on your own part, before you giggled at Danny’s discomfort.

“Who knew you could get hard just from looking at a naked woman, Danny?” you teased, giggling as you came down to rest your lips against the shell of his ear. “You look so pathetic right now,” the purr rolled off of your tongue so intoxicatingly for Danny, as his thumbs came to graze against your nipples almost hesitatingly.

You gave him the nod of affirmation, and almost instantly he started to roll his thumbs in circular motions until your nipples became hardened peaks. Danny could feel his body burning with an overwhelming passion he’d never felt before. Something about touching a bare body for the first time made him ever so pathetically aroused, and God did it look good on him.

“Good boy, Danny,” you praised ever so seductively into his ear, hot breath hitting it ever so harshly. “Just like that, mhm, that’s right,” you added whenever he stopped, (a subtle prompt for him not to stop) to which he quickly started to do the motions again.

His hips started to buck pathetically as he whined when you pressed a searing kiss onto his mouth. You began to move with him, his trembling hands still groping your breasts with a sort of palpable passion now. It was no doubt that he was close to coming, the way his movements became desperate and erratic was in no doubt because he was chasing his inevitable release.

Tongues twisted together in your mouths as you silenced his moans when they dissipated from you two making out with each other. You devilishly smiled as you felt his head tilt back and his eyes shut whilst you trailed your kisses down his neck. He groaned out in his response, a guttural one, as he became overwhelmed whilst riding out his high.

Panting as you tried to gain some composure at the same time as Danny, you laughed breathlessly as you looked down at him again, removing your lips from his neck. “Did you just come in your boxers?” you asked whilst amazed that he’d actually come in his boxers as Danny’s eyes widened at the uncomfortable stickiness he was now sitting in.

“For fuck’s sake…” Danny muttered, laughing meekly. “I’m sorry, I just got carried—”

“No, Danny,” you cut him off, pressing your pointer fingers against his lips. “That was fucking hot”, you continued, before letting your hand rest against your side.

“I-It was?!” He exclaimed dumbfounded, eyes wide as his breathing was still a little unsteady. “Yes, it was,” you murmured, brushing a gentle hand against the side of his face. “And next time we’re like this…” you whispered against his lips, “I’m going to make you even more excited so you come harder.”

like art student!danny? fancy sending me an ask so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

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talesofanarchy · 3 months ago

Text

Sweet Emotion

Anonymous requested: Could I have some smut with Happy maybe some rough smut 😆

Author's note: Sure thing, little anon! Happy drabbles are my favorite. What can I say? I am biased.

WARNINGS: 18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT! Read at your discretion!

The clubhouse was at full capacity, music loudly playing as people meandered with one another. She could feel the bass pulsate throughout her body, nearly making her want to start dancing. However, she wasn't that buzzed, and she wasn't about to make a fool of herself when she would remember it the next day.

A hand was loosely coiled around a glass of whiskey, her gaze fleeting between the crowds of people before finding her husband. He stood across the room near the pool table with his back to her. One of his hands was tucked into a front pocket, while the other held a cue stick. Tig stood on the other side, a large smile etched on his face as he began to line up a shot.

She took the last sip of her drink, licking the remnants of alcohol off her lips before setting the glass down. It was a night of celebration, one that honored Opie and Lyla's marriage. Y/N was ecstatic that Opie could find someone else to love after Donna's death. She didn't know if he would ever move on; she wouldn't blame him if he didn't. Hell, she knew she wouldn't have ever gotten over Happy if the roles were reversed.

A hand unexpectedly landed on her shoulder from behind, gently squeezing it. Quickly, she turned around, only to find Lyla standing in her wedding gown and a glorious grin worn proudly on her face.

"Thank you so much for helping with all the planning," Lyla spoke, nearly having to shout over the music.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile before leaning and hugging Lyla. "Of course, I am so happy for you and Ope. You both deserve the best." She said.

Lyla pressed a gentle kiss into her friend's cheek. "You're still the greatest. I'll catch up with you later, though."

Y/N watched the newest old lady saunter off to her newly branded husband, making her yearn for her own husband's attention.

Yet when she turned to try to locate Happy, she saw a croweater had found her place beside him at the pool table. Lips were pursed with agitation; this one was new; Y/N hadn't seen her around Charming before. Most likely, she came from another charter, likely going through all the men there first.

Happy's face was devoid of emotion, never allowing his thoughts to be easily readable. Nonetheless, Y/N knew how temptation worked with these croweaters. They were like the latest drug, alluring, intoxicating, addicting. Once they sunk their claws in, it was like the men lost all common sense.

She watched as the woman batted her eyes and cozied up to Happy's side. The once feel-good buzz was gone. Instead, it was replaced with numerous emotions: jealousy, anger, hurt, and betrayal. Y/N wasn't just some booty call; she was Happy's wife, and the fact that he allowed this display only angered her more.

With little to no control over her emotions, she made a beeline for the croweater.

She shouldered past the unknown woman, causing her to stumble forward.

"What the fuck?!" She spat angrily.

As the croweater stood up straight, Y/N cracked an innocent smile. "So sorry I didn't see you there."

The croweater scoffed before stepping closer, her voice coming out in a sharp whisper. "If I were you, I'd back off. This one's mine." She pointed towards Happy.

A short, noncomical laugh came from Y/N as she stared at the unknown woman. "Yours? Really? Our marriage license would prove otherwise." She closed the distance between them, rage nearly boiling over.

"Enough, little girl." Happy gruffly said from behind her.

The croweater cackled, her head shaking side to side. "You think a marriage license is going to stop him from being in my bed at the end of the night?"

That was enough for Y/N to see red. Her hand immediately shot out, palm thrusting upwards into the bimbo's nose, causing a sickening snap.

She could feel the cartilage crumble beneath the force of her blow, her instincts to fight going into overdrive. The croweater let out a loud wail of pain, her hands going to her face, attempting to tend to her shattered nose. Blood oozed out, only proving the severity of the attack.

"You bitch!" The unnamed woman screamed, causing a mob of people to encircle them.

Just as Y/N was about to finish the job, she was hoisted over a pair of strong, sturdy shoulders. She struggled in her husband's grip, desperately wanting to rearrange the face of the bitch who thought she could so easily fuck her old man.

"Let me go! She needs to learn her fucking place." She spat loudly, the crowd parting as Happy lugged her outside.

The next day

After being forcibly removed from the clubhouse the night before, Happy had taken Y/N home. He didn't speak to her, didn't even look at her. Despite his silence, she knew he was pissed off. But what for? She hadn't done anything but put a croweater in their place. He was off limits; they were married.

Eyes slowly pried open as she stared at the empty spot beside her in bed. It was untouched. Happy hadn't even slept in the same bed as her last night.

Groggily rubbing at her eyes, she would push the blankets down before rising out of bed. The dull ache in her head urged her to get some Tylenol from the kitchen. Quietly, she trekked down the hallway before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

Happy sat on the stool at the island directly in the middle of the room. His kutte was hung over the chair beside him, his bare back presented to her. Y/N stood there briefly, pondering how to approach the situation. Exhaling softly, she would walk over to the coffee maker and press the brew button.

"You didn't come to bed last night." She stated.

"Didn't want to be around you." Happy retorted.

A pang of hurt echoed in her chest, feeling like she was the issue last night. When she only did what Happy would have done if some guy had tried to make a move on her.

"That's a little unfair, Hap. You just stood there, letting some random bitch hit on you. Were you going to sleep with her once I left?" She asked.

Happy leaned back in the stool, his brown gaze landing on his wife. A flash of irritation crashed over his face before he resumed drinking his coffee.

"So, what, you'll give me the silent treatment?" She asked.

His eyes locked with hers, his shoulders tense. He knew just how possessive she was; it was one of many things he loved about her. But there was a time and place for everything, and her little temper tantrum was poorly executed, especially in front of his brothers and everyone else. It was a night of celebration, and she caused a scene.

"We've had this conversation before; you're an old lady. Start actin' like one." Happy spoke sternly.

Y/N clenched the coffee mug tightly; what he said had rubbed her the wrong way. Yes, she was his old lady, but she was also his wife. The fact that Happy was trying to blame her for last night pissed her off.

"I am also your wife. Or does that not matter? Should I just let any bitch throw themselves at you and fuck you? Should I not care anymore?" She growled.

Happy pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Her flair for the dramatics annoyed the shit out of him. It wasn't like he was going to sleep with the bitch last night. Sometimes, he just liked to entertain the thought.

"Cut the shit, little girl." He warned, growing tired of the conversation.

Y/N slammed the mug on the counter, the liquid sloshing out and landing on the granite.

"Fuck you, Hap; if roles were reversed, you'd kill any man who even looked at me wrong, let alone touched me." Was all she said before storming out.

It had been a few hours since Y/N left, putting Happy on edge more. He didn't like that she left when they were fighting, and he didn't like that she hadn't even tried to phone him to check in.

Grumbling uncomfortably, he would run a hand over his face. Where the fuck was she?

He reached for his phone on the table nearest the couch, flipping it open to find Juice's name. Dialing his number, he brought the phone to his ear and listened to it ring.

A few moments later, Juice picked up. "Hello?"

"I need you to check Y/N's tracker and tell me where she is." Happy said blandly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the receiver before Juice cleared his throat. "Everything okay, Hap?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me where she's at." Happy responded.

He could hear distinct shuffling in the background as he waited for the word from Juice. Who the hell did she think she was, just up and leaving without even letting him know where she was going? That wasn't how their relationship worked. She knew better.

The tracker was placed in Y/N's car when they started messing around long before their marriage. There was just something about her that he couldn't let go of, and he wasn't about to let a guy swoop in and try to claim her. Not when he had already laid claim. Not when he already viewed her as his property.

"Looks like she's at the grocery store in town." Juice uttered, clicking away on his computer.

A breath of relief was silently exhaled before Happy spoke up. "Aight, thanks." He clicked his phone shut before rising to his looming stature.

He strode to the kitchen, where he easily slid his kutte on. Reaching for his keys, he'd shake his head with a growing aggravation.

He had a few choice words for his wife, especially with her knowing there was shit going on with the club. He understood her desire for independence and the need for air after their fight. But it had been ingrained into her not to leave anywhere without telling him.

Did he have to fuck it into her for her to grasp the demand?

The Dyna roared as he drove into the parking lot that belonged to the grocery store. Pulling near the curb, he would balance himself with both feet planted firmly into the ground. The bike idled as he removed his helmet, his brown gaze fixated on the store entrance.

Cutting the engine off, he would resume his normal, overwhelming stature. He silently assessed the cars in the parking lot, quickly finding Y/N's car.

Good, she was still here.

As he walked into the store, he began frantically scanning the aisles as he passed them. The metal chain that hung from his pocket rattled audibly as he took vast, predatory strides.

Happy wasn't a patient man, and he didn't play around regarding his wife's safety. Just as he was about to call Y/N's phone, he caught sight of her conversing with a man he didn't know. He immediately slowed his movements, inching closer to hear what was being said.

"Yeah, I am new to town. How long have you been living here?" Said the man who clearly didn't know that SAMCRO ran Charming.

Y/N fidgeted uncomfortably, taking a step back to create some distance between her and the man who had been hounding her for the last five minutes.

"A little over 5 years. My husband and I are originally from Tacoma." She enunciated husband, trying to drive the point of her being taken into the unknown man's head.

However, this didn't seem to phase the man; he cracked a ridiculous grin before running a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"Wow, Washington, that sounds amazing. Could I maybe have your number? Maybe you could show me around town?" He piped.

Happy's overwhelming need to stake his claim began to rear its horned head. The balls on this guy, didn't he hear that she was married? Or did he not care?

"Little girl." The Tacoma killer rumbled loudly from behind her.

Y/N quickly turned and faced him, a flash of relief washing over her face. Despite their earlier argument, she couldn't have been happier to see him at that particular moment.

The unnamed man glanced between them before shooting a questionable glare at Happy.

"Who is this?" He asked.

It didn't take more than a second for Happy to swarm in, his right shoulder cocking back before he unloaded his fist into the guy's face. The man fell against the shelves, canned goods falling in a loud clatter around him.

"Her husband." Happy growled possessively.

"Happy! What the hell?" She exclaimed, looking distressed.

But he didn't respond. Instead, he snatched her delicate wrist in his calloused hand, dragging her behind him as he stormed away from the scene.

Y/N struggled to keep up with him, finding herself tripping over her feet. "Baby, please slow down." She whimpered.

It didn't take long before Happy found the restroom and locked them in it. He stared down at her, his dark eyes swirling with a multitude of emotions. The need to dominate her echoed violently within. He needed her to know that she belonged to him. He needed everyone to know that no one could have her, not while he was living.

"What the hell was that Happy? That was completely unnecessary." She rambled on.

"Was it? That piece of shit wanted to screw you." He roared, causing her to flinch backward.

She scoffed softly, eyes rolling. Did he finally understand what she had to deal with when it came to random women trying to pick up on him?

"Oh, you mean like how the croweater tried to get you in her bed last night?" Y/N snapped.

Happy narrowed his gaze before stalking towards her. "You're mine."

Before she could respond, he was holding her head between his hands and violently claiming her lips with his. He didn't wait for her approval; his tongue had found its way into her mouth, tightly coiling around hers.

She briefly fought his advances, hands forcibly shoving into his chest. But then the anger and confusion melted away when she inhaled his scent. When his tongue seductively rolled around with hers. There had been built-up tension between them, and she was tired of fighting over the same thing.

They both needed this right now. They both needed to know that they belonged to one another.

One of his hands slowly trailed down her side, eliciting goosebumps in response. Fingertips moved across her abdomen before slipping underneath her t-shirt. It roamed further up to meet her unrestricted breasts. A murmur of approval rumbled in the depths of his throat.

His thumb teasingly rolled her nipple around, causing the nub to pucker underneath the pressure of his actions. Their mouths continued to move together in sync while her hands began to explore his taut stomach.

"Mine." He proclaimed once more.

Nails found the small of his back, digging ever so lightly into the skin. Her tongue roamed on the outskirts of his lips, teasing him. Slowly, she took his bottom lip into her mouth, teeth hovering over the vulnerable tissue. Y/N could taste this man forever if time allowed it. The way he overwhelmed her senses was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

As his hands trailed down her sides, she bit down on his lower lip, causing him to inhale a shaky breath. No one could unravel him the way she did. She knew how to touch him, how to please him. There would never be another her, never.

Her hands moved from his back to the front of his jeans, locating the belt. Fingers quickly undid the belt before moving to unbutton his jeans. Lips, finding his neck and leaving feathery pecks down to his collarbone.

In moments like these, everything ceased to exist. It was only the two of them, wrapped up in their own little world. Their bodies were in tune with what the other needed, as if it were embedded deep within the cells of their beings to please the other.

Happy's overwhelming need to bury himself deeply within her began to grow. But the need to prove that she was his took control. A hand swiftly found its place around her throat, where he applied a firm amount of pressure. The sweet sound of her greedy inhale of oxygen made him smirk.

He forcefully moved her towards the bathroom counter, his intentions becoming abundantly clear. She remained captured by his hand, her gaze swooping over his body in one clean movement. Their sex life had never been vanilla; normalcy wasn't in the books for them. Missionary was far between and usually reserved for the moments of lovemaking. Yet, this wasn't an occasion for lovemaking. This was pure carnal, unfiltered need.

"Who do you belong to?" He questioned, his hand slowly tightening around her throat.

Y/N swallowed dryly, nerve endings buzzing to life as her senses rose to their full magnitude. While Happy loved to dominate, she loved to submit. But submission never came easily; she liked to make a game of it. With a wicked grin, she would speak teasingly. "Tig, or possibly Chibs."

Happy found no amusement in her bratty retort. The idea of her being fucked by one of his brothers made him want to commit murder. With an unexpected movement, the palm of his hand collided harshly with her cheek.

A yelp of surprise echoed within the restroom, the sting of his assault making her eyes water. As the pain began to fizzle away, excitement started to unfurl in the deepest parts of her belly. She looked up at him with wide, doe eyes, trying to guess his next move. But that was the thing with Happy Lowman; everything he did was always unexpected.

The outlaw reacted purely instinctually, his body moving on its own accord. His large hands found her hips, digging into the meat that lay there. He didn't linger there long; soon, he flipped her around so her back was nestled into his front. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of her hair, reminding him of honeysuckles. His dick twitched to life in his boxers, excited for the impending satisfaction he would surely feel.

His dark eyes traveled up the length of her backside, mesmerized by the sight of her plump ass in some floral, mid-length skirt. A hand was quick to smother an ass-cheek with a gratifying swat. Y/N couldn't help but lean forward, a moan tumbling past her lips.

Happy shoved her upper torso down along the countertop, and one of his hands tightened around the back of her neck, effectively keeping her pinned in place.

"Good girl." He praised, his other hand roaming up the backs of her legs.

She shivered with anticipation, instinctively pressing her thighs together. She needed some friction between her legs; Happy had the tendency to draw things out in hopes that it taught her a lesson. Bunching up Y/N's skirt, he would let out a low whistle as he found her to have no panties on underneath. Smirking, he'd adjust his boxers so his cock was able to spring free.

Y/N squirmed underneath Happy, her hips teetering side to side, hoping this would entice him to hurry. All movements ceased when she felt his cock slide in between her folds, a feral excitement pumping through her veins. "Baby." She cooed needily.

Everything that happened after those words was done hastily. Happy allowed his saliva to coat his cock, his hands pumping up and down his shaft a few times before he aligned himself at the entrance of her pussy.. He didn't give her the time to brace. Instead, he slammed his hips forward, causing his dick to tear through any resistance.

The moment he was inside of her warm, slick walls, he groaned. Nothing compared to the way pussy felt. Not drugs, alcohol, or even murder. Happy allowed her to adjust to his massive size, his cock pulsating in the familiarity of his wife's womb.

"H-Happy." She stuttered, reveling in how it felt to be stretched out to the point that it hurt so deliciously.

He didn't respond. Instead, he tauntingly pulled out his dick so that it was at her entrance. His fingers flexed into the back of her neck, solidifying his hold. When he saw her incessant wriggling, he slammed his hips forward, guiding his cock back inside of her. Y/N flexed her pelvic wall, causing her pussy to tighten around his shaft. Happy nearly crumbled at this move; it was the one thing that almost always made him cum.

His available hand pushed up her shirt, searching for his mark. His thrusting picked up in intensity and speed when he found his crow etched into her upper left shoulder. His balls slammed against the base of her ass as he edged further and further inside of her tight little cunt.

Unified moans of pleasure hummed throughout the restroom, signaling to any passing bystanders just what was going on. Y/N was pinned down and a victim to whatever her old man wanted to do to her. Not that she minded, she would always submit to him.

Happy let his fingers roam from her neck to the center of her skull, fisting her hair roughly. He tugged her head back, causing her back to arch inward. His hips snapped forward repetitively as he was set on filling her up with every bit of cum he had.

Both of them began to pant, their chests rising and falling as they tried to gain their breath. While she was positioned closer to him, he would lean forward and sink his teeth into her shoulder, right next to his crow. An animalistic growl rumbled in his chest as his dick slid in and out of her, savoring the overstimulation it offered.

Soothing the bite mark with his tongue, he half-assedly laid his stomach across her back. His arms wound themselves around her waist, supporting her and his weight.

"Tell me who you belong to." He demanded.

Y/N moaned loudly, her climax nearing closer and closer as he continued his brutalization.

"Yours, Hap." She replied breathlessly.

He gingerly kissed the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck, their bodies moving together perfectly.

"Cum for me, little girl." He ordered.

It was like a switch that opened the dam. Every single muscle of hers began to spasm, her walls tightening once more around his dick as he ushered those magic words.

Y/N's head fell forward, and every sense of hers heightened tenfold. Her eyes were clenched shut as her orgasm rid her like a bucking bronco. She could feel her pussy coil tighter around him, attempting to milk him for everything he had.

Happy's finale was quick to follow, only ever cumming after she did. He jerked forward a few times, allowing his sticky, white load to coat her womb. "Fuck." He exhaled. His hips continued to roll forward but at a much slower pace as he emptied his balls into her.

The two were a heap of sweat and nauseating euphoria.

Y/N could already feel stiffness and pain in her overworked body. It would be a welcomed reminder of her husband and his rough affection. The counter was uncomfortable and pressing into her ribs, but she didn't want to disturb Happy.

Slowly, he pulled out of her and stuffed himself back into his boxers. After buckling his belt, he admired Y/N's bare ass. The skin was red and welted from the erratic thrusting. Gently, he smoothed his hands over her ass cheeks, murmuring.

"Probably gonna be sore." He said.

"It's alright, babe." She replied.

Allowing her skirt to fall back into place, he would help her stand up straight. His fingers grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. They stared into each other's eyes momentarily before Happy pressed a small kiss to the center of her forehead.

"Never forget that you're mine, little girl." He whispered against her skin.

"Never." She vowed before kissing his lips.

#fandom #happy lowman #jax teller #samcro #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #fanfiction #juice ortiz #happy lowman fanfiction

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ambiguous-avery · 4 months ago

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Untamed Soul

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You x Sam Winchester | WC: 1270

Summary: You’re down bad for two guys who aren’t even yours. Then again... they’re not technically not yours either...

Tags/Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, female masturbation, no wincest, no use of Y/N, pining, PWP (Plot? What plot?), unsatisfying ending, no beta we die like men

A/N: Third piece to complete the trifecta. But clearly I can’t just leave it here. Sorry not sorry, but my brain has decided that there has to be more. Just know that I am a little gremlin behind the screen, rubbing my grubby little hands together because I'm excited about this. Read about Dean’s Sly Grins and Sam’s Careful Stares

Three Hearts, One Flame Masterlist

The job hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected, and for once, the only injury between the three of you was your chipped nail from the damn shovel you had passed Dean so they could dig up the grave. If the case had wrapped up any earlier, then you might’ve thought that you could’ve been enjoying your shower back at the bunker rather than the motel room with the discolored walls. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. And while you weren’t particularly covered in grime, a shower was probably going to be the closest thing you could get to having some time alone.

The problem with having the Winchester brothers as hunting partners was privacy. Specifically the distinct lack of it.

So when the most recent hunt had wrapped up and the three of you weren’t beat up, bloodied, and skulking back to the motel room to lick your wounds, you had happily leapt at the idea of some much-needed ‘you’ time while the boys went out to the bar.

You sighed contentedly, tipping your head back into the spray and reveling in the warmth. The rhythmic sound of the water hitting the tiled floor was a steady background noise as the tension melted away from you. It was a rare luxury to have a moment of peace. A moment to indulge in your thoughts.

The other problem with having the Winchester brothers as hunting partners was your attraction. To both of them.

And being in such close quarters with them for prolonged periods of time was bound to have done some irreparable damage to the way you looked at any other guy ever in your lifetime. Not that you wanted to look at anyone else.

You had two handsome-as-hell men who were each willing to lay down their lives for you. And you’d do the same for either of them. That sort of commitment was hard to find anymore. Well... maybe that level of commitment was a bit too much. But the point still stood.

But they weren’t yours. Never had been. Maybe could be?

It didn’t help that you had a good idea of what they thought of you. The funny thing about boys was that they always thought they were so subtle. But you were a hunter. A damn good one, at that. And very little escaped your keen eye. You could see it in the sly grins Dean would flash you. In the way you’d catch Sam’s careful stares out of the corner of your eye when he thought you weren’t looking. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you were a little surprised that neither of them had made a move.

Dean and you flirted plenty, made numerous allusions to actually hooking up but never gone through with it. And the kind of chemistry you shared with Sam was the kind that Hallmark movies could only hope to capture on screen. Really, any way you cut it, the three of you were a symphony, and any sort of change might throw off the harmony you had somehow managed to achieve. Things were better off staying how they were.

But no matter how many times you tried to push those thoughts aside, they always snuck back in, especially in the quiet hours.

You slid your hand down your stomach, fingers tentatively slipping between your legs and imagining that it was a hand far larger than your own. Rough and calloused. With fingers longer than yours. The air in the shower was warm, steam rising from the water turned as hot as you could get it. You could imagine an unsteady breath near your ear.

Imaginary lips pressed against the side of your neck, and your lips parted as you dragged your fingers over your center. It should’ve been alarming how easily thoughts of your hunting partners could consume you. But here in the privacy of the bathroom, it was all too easy to lose yourself in the fantasy. You let out a shaky breath as your fingers danced over your skin, each touch more electrifying than the last.

In your mind, Dean’s strong hands roamed over your body while Sam’s soft voice whispered sweet promises in your ear. Your back arched slightly and you bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your fingers ghosted over your clit. You leaned back against the shower wall and propped one leg up on the edge of the tub, heart rate quickening. You could almost feel Dean’s rough stubble against your skin as he kissed you, tasting of whiskey and leather. You imagined Sam’s lips trailing tender kisses down your neck before finding your breast and teasing your nipple between his teeth.

Through the haze of desire, you could hear Dean’s voice, deep and gravelly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” It was a promise. A promise you knew you could believe.

“That’s our girl. You can let go for us,” Sam’s voice wrapped you in a sense of safety and security.

You knew without a shadow of a doubt: you belonged with them.

You belonged with Dean, with his rough exterior and kind heart. You belonged with Sam, with his soft words and gentle touch. To Dean and Sam. Would you be too greedy to ask them to share? The universe would truly be cruel if it made you pick just one.

You pressed two fingers into yourself. They were a poor substitute for what you really wanted, but they would have to suffice. Your breath hitched as you pressed them against that soft spot, eyes fluttering shut as you imagined two sets of eyes on you. Hazel and green. Their hands. Their mouths. Their cocks.

Holy shit.

You hadn’t even begun to imagine the way they’d feel inside you. The way they’d move in tandem. Never leaving you fully empty. The thought of them filling you completely. The thrill of it all made your head spin, and those thoughts wound the coil in you tighter and tighter. You could imagine their hands grasping your hips. Your thighs. Wherever they could find purchase to pull you closer. Their mouths devouring you as they took what they wanted from you.

So close...

Sam’s large hands splaying across your back as he presses you down. His blunted nails scraping across your skin as he presses deeper and deeper with each slow thrust.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

Right there...

Dean’s green eyes, bright and in awe as he sinks into you in one fluid motion. His lips on you, tasting your skin while you come apart in his hands, around his cock.

“Look at you. Taking us so well, sweetheart.”

Closer–

A heavy knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts, and you nearly slipped as hastily pulled your hand away, startled back into reality. The abruptness of the sound echoed in the small room, shattering the illusion you had weaved in the steam.

“Got a six pack with our names on it, sweetheart!” Dean’s voice rang through the door.

“Fuck!" Your heart pounded in your chest, breaths still heavy, eyes wide from shock. "Give a girl a heart attack, why don’t you?”

“Could give you more than that,” he responded with a mischievous chuckle, and you could clearly visualize the shit-eating grin he wore, even without seeing his face.

“I’ll give you a black eye,” you muttered under your breath, the words tinged with irritation as you dipped back under the water for a quick rinse. The cascade of water washed away the remnants of your interrupted tranquility.

So much for your privacy.

---

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dean taglist: @aylacavebear @globetrotter28 @bettystonewell @supernotnatural2005 @maddie0101

Both: @jollyhunter @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @voodoochildthings @sir-thisisadndserver

Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

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komohine · 20 days ago

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My sleep schedule is so fucked and i am so behind on work. whatever. heres a hopefully shorter drabble-dump

Lance knows keith doesnt like him back, never has and never will, but stupidly it doesn’t stop him from trying. Even as James’ frostly glares begin to turn downright hateful, even as seeing Keith alone without James got much rarer very quickly (James was onto him. Keith, uncharacteristically, wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Magbe he didn’t want living in their dorm to be unbearably awkward, maybe he almost felt bad because GOD this was really pathetic.)

While this is happening, a new point of tension arises between Keith and James. Keith frequently slept in James’ dorm because his dorm was much closer to the academic buildings (Keith had the misfortune of being poor, and the poor kids dorm was situated at the furthest end from campus. It was a nearly 20 minute walk to get to class, while James lived right next to the academic buildings. Yes, this meant James would walk 20 minutes every morning to Keith’s dorm and then 20 minutes to class) and Keith couldn’t afford to waste 40 minutes walking when he could be sleeping. Not that James or Ryan minded. Point is, Keith spent a LOT of time in James’ dorm. Meanwhile, James had never stepped foot inside Keith’s room.

James knew it was silly to ne upset over such a thing, but he was curious, and then he was hurt that Keith didn’t trust him enough to show him his room. He always made up some excuse that it was too far or that it eas too messy inside. Meanwhile Keith didn’t know how James would react to him being an independent journalist investigating his father’s mysterious death. But Keith thought that James would probably just see him as some crazy conspiracy theorist, and his reaction to that could not be good.

But it was a big damn secret, and Keith could see the way James deflated slightly every time he wasn’t allowed in. He’d never dated before, but he knew that this couldn’t be healthy for the relationship. So one day after a not so reassuring pep talk from Pidge (“Yea he’ll probably think you’re crazy but he also doesn’t seem like he would care”) he eventually, finally, lets James into his dorm. With his corkboard covered in newsclippings and red string, scattered papers all over his desk, and also Pidge’s insane computer setup in her own little corner. James didn’t mention or question the corkboard, and Keith was glad. He wasn’t sure he wanted to explain everything right now.

The rooms were small enough as is, but it was made so much more claustrophobic with the sheer amount of stuff in it. James was surprised Keith could find anything in this mess. Hell, even his bed was half taken up by papers and unfolded clothes. At least Keith wasn’t lying when he said that his room was too messy to go in. James would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him at least a little. His abd Ryan’s room was impeccable compared to this, and also quite a bit larger. Keith and Pidge were forced to share a bunk, whilst he and Ryan got two separate beds and a pretty decent amount of floorspace.

James gave Keith a wide eyed glance. Keith caught it. “You want to clean this, don’t you. Yea, okay, go ahead. Just don’t touch any of Pidge’s stuff or she’ll freak. I’ll be in the living room.”

And then James proceeded to completely reorganize Keith’s half of the bedroom for the next four hours. He put all the clothes away, sorted the sheets, and meticulously sorted papers into a few neat piles. This included the numerous news clippings Keith had saved. Half were all about the incident that killed his father: he had rushed into a burning factory, claiming he was hearing cries for help despite the factory being supposedly empty, and he had died in the blaze. The factory collapsed shortly after. The other half was a mix of clippings about the company that owned the factory. It was a large engineering company that made specialized replacement parts for the machines used on oil rigs. It was his father’s company. It was about to be James’ company. Oh god.

James walked out holding the news clipping with his father’s company’s name printed in bold. He looked up to Keith, who’d turned around and was clearly about to say some sarcastic remark about James finally finishing cleaning, but he’d stopped himself, reading James’ worried expression.

“I think we need to talk.”

okay i need to go work now 💔 bye 💔 not super happy with this but i need some sort of mystery plot to keep my stories going or else it will stagnate

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #jaith #james griffin #james voltron #keith kogane #keith voltron #shipping #headcanon #silly college au save me #college au #voltron au #2000s au #au #alternature universe

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ascenari0 · 4 months ago

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JANUS & VIRGIL LONG POST

so I’m just going to write this all down as I listen to the recording of myself talking about it with key notes (edit note, this is just me writing things I say on the recording so if it’s random or whatever ignore it)

Virgil and Janus’ relationship is probably one of the most intriguing things about sanders sides to me right now. I’ve always wanted to know more about the two (and Remus included) and their dynamics of when they all we’re “dark sides”. We’ve never really gotten that but hints and slips of things.

“Just Like old times.” - Remus to Virgil in DWIT

“You’re so Funny Virgil, you always have been.” -Janus in end card scene, embarrassing phases

I find that these two possibly had a bit of a parental relationship? It’s referenced in the Five Yr AnniversaryVid with Remus and Janus being the Aunt and Uncle and Virgil being the cousin of the light sides family. (If that makes sense.)

I find that Janus is quite mean but in a not super direct way..? (Yes i know he is being purposefully mean). He is very sarcastic and give quick quips to the sides, (Roman especially oof-). He is like this to Virgil too yet on Virgils side, Virgil is very direct and sort of hateful to Janus to the point of literally hissing at him when he enters the room. (Are there Healthy Distractions?)

It really makes me wonder what MADE Virgil hate Janus the way he does now.

Another thing I end up ranting ab in my recording is the theory of what their relationship was like before Virgil joined the light sides. I begin to talk about how Virgil is much more immature and shows more.. teenage-ish behavior in the beginning, to where he was more of a menace and less of someone trying to help. (This changes as the series goes on to accepting anxiety.) Virgil in the beginning (I believe.) had no intention of being a light side, he merely presented himself and just did his job, before slowly but surely just trying to help. He was mean because that’s what he thought he had to do. (His job)

…

I wonder who he got that idea from.

So before he went over to the light sides (it is shown numerous amounts of times the sides communicate off screen) that Virgil definitely complained or maybe vented to Janus (and Remus) about the light sides as janus possibly gave him advice on how to get his methods across.. (idk I was spitballing in the recording) to a point where when he began to grow.. he did less of those methods.. slowly saying things like.. “I’m not always the bad guy..”

Soon (possibly) resenting Janus for it? But anyway.. I say that their beginning (of series) relationship was and I quote “a teenager complaining to their parent about their terrible day at school..” which makes sense I think.

I don’t know. This recording and this post was made at 3:30 am. I just really want to know more ab these two.

Like it’s SOOO implied they know each other (obviously) and Virgil knowing Janus’ behaviors and quirks to the point of Virgil recognizing Janus in “Can Lying Be Good?”, Like..?!

Another last bonus thing, as a youngster I did NOT trust anxiety AT ALL. Little me really had beef with him for some reason. Point for this one is I definitely thought something was going to happen with Janus and Virgil when they met up or something, I don’t know where that theory came from, it kinda reminds me of Kovu and Zira? Random ik (I warned you) but how she raised kovu to defeat simba, like we know kovu had no intention of being good or falling in love, like I said earlier I used to think Virgil had no intention of being a light side or wanting to actually contribute, but ended up caring for this group and his new family, that when Janus in the end of embarrassing phases showed up and said “very well done virgil” I almost lost my shit ready for it to be a “well done kovu, just as we planned” moment, but Virgil proved younger me wrong by not like.. turning? Or revealing he was secretly evil which tbh would’ve been cool as hell but I’m happy he didn’t. Idk. I just wanted to bring up the Kovu Virgil parallel that lives in my head. (Remus is Nuka no?)

That’s all I’ve got. Thanks for reading. I have more if you want on others. (Or I’ll make that video idk.)

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #ts virgil #anxceit #sanders sides analysis #sanders sides rant #sanders sides theory

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wolfeyedwitch · 5 days ago

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The Heart and the Hunger, Part 16

WIJ 2025 Day 24: Frozen @whumpmasinjuly-archive

In which Tobias, a sex repulsed asexual, deals with being hit on by a very traumatized, very injured, very young-looking vampire.

Note: while Tobias refers to the vampire as a 'child', she was turned at age 19 and has been alive longer than that. She is not a minor; he's just freaked out.

CW: referenced former non-con/NSFWhump, panic attack

Masterlist

---

“Stop,” Tobias choked out.

He felt like he’d fallen through the ice on a frozen lake. Shock hit him first, followed swiftly by icy numbness. He staggered back a half-step, hand falling from the vampire’s face. He was frozen, limbs stiff and uncoordinated.

His skin was crawling. She was a child! And she was expecting him to—

What— what the hell—

The girl immediately obeyed. Her body language shifted abruptly, from— temptress? What the hell had she been…?— It shifted back to her usual timid obeisance.

Fuck.

He ran a hand over his face. He—

He couldn’t deal with this.

“Stay there,” he told the girl, and then fled the room.

His limbs were uncoordinated, his eyes unfocused on his surroundings. Through some miracle of muscle memory, he ended up in his study. The smell of ink and leather from the numerous books was grounding.

“What the fuck am I doing,” he muttered quietly.

He was entirely out of his depth. He was a bounty hunter! It wasn’t exactly a job that required being the most in touch with your emotions, meaning that it attracted asshole loners like himself! He didn’t know how to deal with…

With whatever the fuck that had been.

What had that been?

She had been offering herself to him. That much was clear. What he didn’t understand was why. She had been so skittish the day before, flinching away and seeming to lose herself in memories when he even touched her leg.

The image of the dried blood on her inner thighs flashed behind his eyelids.

He breathed slowly and deliberately, reminding himself that he couldn’t go find Emmett Harding and punch him in the face. Not without it causing far more trouble than it was worth.

Besides, Harding might have been the vampire’s last ‘owner’, but he wasn’t her only one. If Tobias was going to punch all of them in the face, he would have a hell of a job tracking them all down first.

Fuck.

Tobias grabbed his journal and pen. If he was going to figure this out, he needed to write things down.

He’d already written up all that had happened on the job, up to and including how the vampire had saved him after Harding’s hired goons wounded him. He started jotting down his notes of the vampire’s behavior since then, using his personal shorthand for privacy.

He wrote down everything he’d noticed, handwriting nearly unreadable as his hands continued to shake. He started with the vampire’s appearance, then her injuries, both old and new. He wrote down how she’d been afraid to have him take the muzzle off, and how she’d expected him to pull her fangs when he finally did.

Could this attempt to throw herself at him something similar?

He frowned down at the paper. He let his thoughts flow onto the page with the ink.

She had been trained, somehow, to act as a pet. He didn’t know what they were, but she had been taught some kind of rules for how she was supposed to act. She had set ideas for what she needed to do and what punishments would come with certain actions.

Something she had done would have merited her fangs being pulled, with her former owners. Maybe it was that she had drunk his blood? He’d been a little more focused on how she had saved his life in the process, but he doubted that would have been allowed. She’d also taken off the muzzle to do it, and put it back on afterwards.

Whatever the reason, she had expected him to pull her fangs. Maybe this… attempt at seduction, for lack of a better description, was something similar?

He re-read what he’d written, trying to make sense of it all.

She had little mannerisms he didn’t understand.Things like offering her hands for him to bind, kneeling and making herself vulnerable when she thought she’d done something wrong, offering up her fangs for him to pull.

It was like she was following a script, written out by whoever had hurt her again and again and again. She had things linked in her mind as cause and effect. If she acted out, she got punished. If she behaved, she got… less harsh treatment, he supposed? She played one part, and expected him to play another.

The problem was, Tobias wasn’t reading from the same script. It was clear how confused she was by his actions, by what he considered to be basic human decency, that she was expecting something entirely different.

Something in their interactions had made her think she needed to do… that. Made her think that she was required to offer herself up to him as payment. The idea was horrific. Could she really have been subjected to such horrors for so long that it was what she considered normal?

It was somehow still a better option than thinking that she honestly expected him to—

Just thinking about it too hard was making him feel nauseated. The idea that he would take advantage of someone so injured and vulnerable, so young?

Did she honestly think he was that kind of man?

He shook his head. This wasn’t about him.

He put away the pen and closed his journal. No matter what the reason was, he had a person who expected horrific things to happen to them. Who was willing to offer up her body as payment, as a sacrifice to appease him.

Which meant it was now his responsibility to explain that he didn’t want that. He had to make her understand that she didn’t need to do such things with him.

It suddenly occurred to him that he’d left her alone. He’d left the traumatized, frightened vampire alone after reacting badly to something she’d done.

She was probably terrified out of her mind.

“Fuck,” he said, quietly but with feeling.

He had to fix this.

Taglist:

@kim-poce @cupcakes-and-pain @nonbinary-disaster @onlybadendings @neverthelass

@its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @ghostfacepepper @someonesnamesblog @rainbowsandwhumperflies @extemporary-whump

@thecyrulik @myhusbandsasemni @heart4brains @kixngiggles @whumpsday

@whumppsychology @elrysdoesstuff @towerlesskey @inkkswhumpandstuff @whumpycries

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @haro-whumps @pigeonwhumps @cc1010foxy @bloodinkandashes

@secretwhumplair @i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis

#the heart and the hunger #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #tobias the bounty hunter #celeste the vampire #implied past nsfwhump #whumpee tries to seduce caretaker #caretaker deals poorly with that #panic attack #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #implied past torture #previously:#celeste: he seems like a good owner! i want him to keep me! i must offer myself to him so he will keep me around!#tobias (asexual): *does not like that*#tobias is a sex-repulsed asexual

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sweeter-than-teafood · 11 months ago

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Texting

AN: I was inspired by the artifact for Amy and Sitri’s card, and thought up the silliest thing lmao.

Tw: A lot of swearing from these devils. Also, this is going from what we’ve seen from Day 3 of the Unsightly Guy event. So it may be ooc in the future. Or not. Yeehaw.

✨—————————————————————✨

-3am, Gehenna’s Palace-

Bzzt!

A new message? Sitri glared at his phone as the lit screen illuminated his entire bedroom. Who could be texting him at this ungodly hour?

————————————————

-Hell-Oh Talk: 1 new message-

Amy (Online now)

Status: Ew 2 drinking tea. Can’t b me, I’m manly as fuck.

————————————————

Sitri rolled his eyes at the violent devil’s status. Of course he’d think that, he has no patience to enjoy sophisticated hobbies. He probably couldn’t even pour from a teapot if the instructions were written on the bottom.

He opened the message, expecting to see some pathetic diatribe of how canned coffee is superior and that tea-making yields zero-rizz.

Amy:

Lol, maybe MC would lyk u if u weren’t 2 busy 😭 over their dead gramps. Solomon! Solomonnnnnn… Wot a loser u r! Enjoy ur left hand, buddy! 😂

…

Crunch!

Sitri ground his teeth, pissed off by the message. How dare he! The Descendant of Solomon liked him just fine! Who was he to comment on their relationship, when he hadn’t even met them yet?!

Fingers started typing away with a fury that wasn’t usually displayed by Sitri. He hit send, and decided to head to the tearoom for a cup of black tea to calm down.

-Meanwhile on the outskirts of Gehenna-

Amy smirked at the message he had just sent to Sitri. Sure, he would block his number because that fancy prick had nothing useful to say to him, but sometimes it was fun to unblock him and send an insult just to ruin his day.

Bzzt!

Oh? A reply so soon? Well, whatever it said, Amy was certain that it was complete and utter angelshit.

————————————————

-Hell-Oh! Talk: 1 New Message-

Sitri (Online now)

Status: Only a fucking idiot would use a stick as a weapon. Have some diversity, you caveman

————————————————

Amy scoffed at Sitri’s status. Of course he’d think that! He thinks he’s hot shit just because he trained in many weapons! But nothing bashes in angel skulls better than what he uses! Sometimes simple is better!

He opened the message, ready to read some sad sob story about Solomon.

Sitri:

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch?

I'll have you recall that it was I who graduated top of our class in the Gehenna Military Program, and how I am an esteemed alumni of the Hades Intelligence Student Program, I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Heaven, and I have over 666 confirmed kills.

I am trained in guerilla warfare and I'm the top pistolier in the entire Gehenna Miltary Forces. You are nothing to me but just another measly target.

I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in this Hell, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over a simple text? Think again, fucker.

As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across Hell and your GPS location is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, you lowly maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life.

You're fucking dead, loser. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands.

Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed and armed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Gehenna Capital Military Force and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the country, you little shit.

If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "funny" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot.

I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. I’ll use your tears to steep my tealeaves in, because nothing will bring me greater satisfaction than to see you snivel and beg for mercy. You're fucking dead, you cowardly bitch.

Amy let out a harsh laugh. Did this dickhead get ahold of some dank shit from Abyssos? The levels of delusion were incredible. His finger hovered over the textbar, before he decided against it.

“I have better things to do than to entertain this butler wannabe. Maybe later.”

-Sometime later, in the Palace of Gehenna-

That damn bastard.

>>Seen 16hrs ago

Sitri grits his teeth in annoyance at the ever increasing hours on the small bar. First that meathead talks shit about him, and now he can’t even form a response?

‘He’s probably masturbating to this, that fucking asshole.’

Sitri shuddered in disgust at the mental image and quickly threw himself into his paperwork as a welcome distraction.

-Gehenna’s Outskirts-

Amy decided to finally reply to Sitri’s lengthy text. He ponders for a second; there are so many things he could say to further fuel this tea-drinking bastard’s aggression. But he opts for something simple that will infuriate him.

-Palace of Gehenna-

Bzzt!

Sitri looks up from his paperwork to see his phone light up. He immediately grabs it and clicks on the notification.

—————————————

-Hell-Oh! Talk: 1 new message-

Amy (Online Now)

Status: Bitches b mad lmao

Sitri chose to ignore the devil’s pathetic status for now. He opened the message.

Amy:

Nice CV, loser. Still get no bitches tho.

Sitri stared blankly at the text, before he closed his phone. What a waste of time.

“I’m not even going to reply to that.”

Little did he know, he would pick up his phone ten minutes later to start typing away.

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb #wihib #whb sitri #whb amy #whb bad company card #whb an unsightly guy event #whb gehenna #teafoodwrites #teafoodshitposts

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panboba · 5 months ago

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This is a random thought, not from the story. What if tfa Sentinel meets SG BA or Whitearachnia? I figured Sentinel would want nothing to do with her until he realized she isn't so bad. Yeah she does have an attitude but she isn't cruel as the one from his universe. He slowly starts losing fear towards her, and her goodness reminds him of Elita One. Whitearachnia also starts leaning towards Sentinel when he tones down his stupid "I hate organics" attitude. I want to add angst that BA sees Sentinel being comfortable with her SG version which makes her very jealous and angry. Sentinel hated her for being organic yet he's over there chatting with her SG version who's also organic. What does she have that makes the blue mech in not hating her? She starts having numerous questions inside her head. In the end, she tries to follow her revenge plan, however she's going to take out her SG version first.

Blackarachnia: HOW THE HELL DID YOU MAKE HIM IN NOT HATING YOU!!!! YOU'RE AN ORGANIC JUST LIKE ME!!!!

Whitearachnia: Umm you ever thought that maybe it has to do with your personality? Yours reminds me how I used to act in my full Cybertronian form. Plus I'm not stealing your girl(Sentinel). Jeez calm the frag down.

Blackarachnia: I'm this close in killing you

Whitearachnia: See this is what I'm talking about. You're an organic that does EVIL things, you didn't think that would absolutely terrified his spark? Especially you claiming to be Elita one?

Blackarachnia: HE TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DIED!!!! HE SHOULD HAVE ACCEPTED ME THE WAY I AM!!!!

Whitearachnia: My sister in Primus, he caught you experimenting on a bot which you turned that poor bot into a killing feral monster.

Blackarachnia: SO???? I was going to turned the little guy back. I think he's just exaggerating and being very stupid, which is why I'm going to make him pay.

Whitearachnia:...*Sighs* Whatever

Bonus

Whitearachnia: Also I heard from Sentinel that Optimus did accepted you?

Blackarachnia: Yeah and?

Whitearachnia: AND YOU STILL DIDN'T WENT WITH HIM???

Blackarachnia: I don't need Optimus. I am better off alone anyways

Whitearachnia:

#tfa sentinel prime #tfa blackarachnia #tfa #transformers animated #blackarachnia x sentinel #oprachnia #Whitearachnia just wants to go home #She too tired to be dealing with this #BA lowkey fumble Optimus ngl #Still ship it tho lmao

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okkos-ferrum · 2 years ago

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some alien stage design parallels

I am always captivated by alien stage's designs so here's me likely over thinking small design details between character parallels

Sua vs. Luka

These two are directly paralleled due to both their similar personalities (on the surface level) but opposing relationships with mizi. sua is mizi's universe, but luka manipulates mizi by imitiating a confession by sua during round 5

anyway here are some fun details in their official artwork designs

Both have white their dominant color, with black as a compliment, compared to ivan's all black, hyuna's various colors, ivan's grey and red, and mizi's multi-color hair. however while white/light colors are predominantly in luka's top half, masking the black underneath, sua's black hair frames her face at the top, while she is dressed in all white underneath

Sua's bow is at the front of her chest, meanwhile Luka has a ribbon tied to his back. They aren't the same thing, so it might be a stretch, but to me shows sua's more honest intentions with her affection to mizi, while luka is more duplicitous in his "kindness" to mizi

though contradictory but maybe a connection, sua has her hands gloved, meanwhile luka does not cover his hands at all.

Sua's sleeves are puffed out -- im no fashion person so idk if there is a name to them -- making her top heavy design-wise, while luka's sleeves have the extra frill for a more bottom heavy design.

speaking of which, the one-sided trail follows luka around, giving asymmetry to his design. It's pointed and dynamic, giving a sense of instability, and in luka's case, distrust. It's like a snake in how it follows him around. meanhwile, sua has perfect symmetry to her design, displaying how she was a relaible support for mizi.

Sua & Mizi

Obviously these two are built as strong contrasts. but while the subtler differences between sua and luka's similar designs are to depict their clear distinctions, mizi and sua's strong contrast is to instead show how they perfectly fit together ahhh i love them sm

from the get go, there are numerous differences, both to establish the contrast in their personality. Similar to luka, there is asymmetry in mizi's design through the gloves as well as the multi-color hair, while sua has a sharp bob and symmetrical clothing to show how sua is the calm to mizi's excitement

There's the obvious black to sua's pure white, another show of mizi's spirited nature in comparison. mizi's puffed skirt is a contrast to sua's puffed sleeves, sua's boots contrast to mizi's thigh highs, and mizi has a covered shoulder while sua's dress is an off shoulder dress. Hell, even their eye colors are complimentary colors on the color wheel (just realized luka also has yellow eyes haha). in every respect, these two characters share zero similar features which can tie them together. But it instead shows how they compliment each other as polar opposites!

in terms of the only connection i can pull, the gem mizi often is featured with is shown here at the center of her chest, the exact placement to sua's both. perhaps representing their love for each other being their centers???

Till vs. Ivan

The other major relationship ... the more tumultuous of the two -- also have the heavy contrast to link them together. but both share an intrstic desire of wishing to be with another they can never have, so there is a strong parallel there. in a lot of ways, it is similar to how contrast is played up between mizi and sua, with one being the refined, calmer one while the other is far more hot-headed

To get over the obvious, ivan's fitted trenchcoat is in all black while till is seen with a oversized white t-shirt. till's rebelliousness is seen through his lack of shoes or sleeves, showing both how open he is regarding his emotions as well as his lack of care for himself. meanwhile, ivan is knee high boots and gloves over his long sleeved coat, representing his closed off intentions/desires

ivan's collar (seen also in the flashbacks when they were kids) is symmetrical and close to his neck while till is always choosing an off shoulder look, the real collar (not a shirt collar, like ivan's) always a seperate piece on his neck. again, showing ivan's supposed submission to the system while till is blatant in his hositility against alien stage, only controlled through force.

however, while it can be pointed out till is primarily in white, he isn't and thats what is the contrast between the two. while ivan wears only one color, showing his undying devotion to till (whether that may be love or trying to let him go when going into round 6), till has his red underneath, which shows his split in motives.

till similarly wants to escape from alien stage, seen through round 3's flashback in him accepting ivan's escape. but due to it meaning leaving mizi, till has to reject ivan to return to the system he hates so much, all for mizi. from basic color psychology, red is the color of passion and temper, which is clear in how till makes decisions. he makes his hatred for alien stage known, but he is fueled by his desire for mizi to keep him from leaving.

Hyuna vs. Luka

last one just cuz these two now have a confirmation over what their relationship was (my guess: hyuna showed a very isolated luka some affection, luka grew obsessive and plotted to kill hyuna's brother to have her attention on him) with luka being alien stage's biggest success and complacent with the system, hyuna stands on the opposing side by taking hold of her own freedom, even if that comes at the cost of her safety

(side tangent: i really dont like hyuna's design here. like its the color placement between the top and bottom and the weird gradient of blue to muddy green to cool yellow. dont even get me started on those shoes ... hell she doesnt even her outspoken nature. ear them in her own music video. but im including it just since its official artwork and hypothetically what she preformed with)

honestly hyuna sticks out so much more compared to everyone just due to the abundance of colors in her design. She only has some black, but there are various hues used throughout her design. Just about all the official art work for the other character depicts them in outfits with some black or white, with luka the most apparent by the balance of both colors.

luka looks almost artficial in how he wears only whites and blacks. its only furthered by his blonde lashes -- the only character with such a trait -- and especially the blues at his fingertips. hyuna in contrast is the only brunette of the series, and colors like brown are often associated with more earthly tones, making her seem more human than luka.

hyuna, like till, has no sleeves, showing some part of her outspoken nature. but to me, what hyuna and luka both share is their strong asymmetry. Hyuna through her sleeveless (???) tank top and luka aforementioned trail thing. they are at such polar opposite ends taht it could almost fall into instability

anyway off to manifest round 6 ending with hyuna and mizi rescuing till and ivan and then luka randomly exploding on the spot :3 (its probably gonna kill off till or ivan)

apologies for any bad grammer im too lazy to revise this

#alien stage #vivinos #alien stage sua #alien stage luka #alien stage mizi #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alnst #character rambles

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theitgirlnetwork · 1 year ago

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Better

Ch. 15: A Gallagher (Happy Birthday Charlotte Part 2)

Note: Helloooo! I'm backkk! Thank you for all of the love and appreciation you all have been showing this story. I took a break and now, it's time to get into act two, married life with Lip and Charlotte. As always I love the interaction and am extremely inspired by it so thank you for all of the reblogs, notes, and messages. It's a short one while I get back into the swing of things, but I'm excited for what's next. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Love ya! <3 MDNI!!!!!

Warnings: Mild sexual content, strong language

“Go ahead, baby.” Lip says smugly, his head cocked back in arrogance as Charlotte bounces up the steps, keys jangling in her hands as she twists open the lock.

“It’s…it works, s’ours?” she gasps, whipping her head to look back at them.

He follows her up the steps at a slower pace, relishing in her happy squeal when he lifts her into his arms and carries her inside. The place is big, but not too big. There was room to spread out. To grow. It looks like what she’d described to him, her dream starter house. Maybe it was smaller. A townhouse and not a big four floor home like the one she was used to. But it was the one she pictured them in.

“Ready? Go ahead and press it, babe.”

The little junkyard robot (if you can call it that) whirs to life and starts spinning in circles in the small space Lip and Charlotte had cleared on the floor. Charlotte gasps and leans forward, leaving Lip’s chest cold as her back bends to look at the little invention closer. “He’s like a real robot. That’s so cool, bubba.”

“He’s a piece of shit model. Lost me a hundred bucks when I took him to one of those fights, embarrassed the fuck outta me.”

“Aww, he’s so cute though. Like Wall-E.” Charlotte hums, poking at the moving scraps and smiling as the machine rolls backward again. She turns to face Lip, shifting in his lap while wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re so smart.”

“Yeah?” he leans in, lips just a breath away from hers, cheek dimpling with his smirk. “Say it again.”

“No, your head already too big”

“Yeah, okay, c’mere.” he grunts, pulling her weight completely against himself, trapping her with his arms as his fingers start tickling her sides, dodging her flailing limbs. “Say, ‘Phillip, you’re so smart.’”

“Ph-phillip-” she giggles, catching his hands in her own and lowering them to her waist, rolling her eyes as she feels their descent to her ass. She brings her own hands up to his cheeks, rubbing his nose with her own before pecking his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he murmurs, blue eyes locked on brown as he leans forward to capture her lips again.

A crash sounds from downstairs and the pair jolts apart, Charlotte immediately crawls out of his lap and holds her hand out to him to help him off of the ground, only to squeak when he tugs her back against him. “Leave it, Fi and Ian are home.”

“Yeah, but, if we don’t check they’ll come up soon to get us anyway.”

It’s true. Lip thinks through all of the times people have just barged in on him and Charlotte. His siblings. Frank. Monica. V or Kev. The cops. He’s realized for the first time that he’s tired of it.

Obviously, it's not the first time that he’d considered the concept of privacy with the thousands of children Monica and Frank dump off here, the constant inward and outward flow of fuck buddies until Charlotte and Mickey and the tendency of people to just run up into their house with no consideration. He’d come to the conclusion that he needed to escape numerous times. College was one. His professor’s house was another. Hell, sometimes depending on how old he was, his little stints with foster families when CPS got wise to their living conditions served as a nice little break from his family. Ultimately, Lip was not new to the idea of trying to get away. But he’d never thought of it in this way before. Never where he had someone he wanted to take with him.

“Hey, Bunny?”

“Hm, yes, baby?”

He glances away for a moment, willing away the blush that forms on his face when she says stuff like that. “You, uh, you ever think about where you wanna live?”

Charlotte tilts her head in confusion, absently brushing something off of his cheek as she thinks over his question. “What, like choosing between here and V’s?”

“No, like, when…uh when we move. Just us.” The girl damn near headbutts him. Her hair smacking his face as she buries her face into his chest, making a shriek-like noise and kicking her feet against his legs. “Uh, what the fuck?”

She lifts her head with a smug look on her face poking at Lip’s forehead, “You wanna live with me?”

His brows furrow as he smooths his thumb over the spot on her forehead she’d hit his chest with, “Fuckin’ careful, gonna knock yourself out. We already live together-”

“But it’s not enough.” Charlotte sings, continuing to poke at him. “You want me to yourself. That’s so cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Lip laughs, smacking her ass with one hand, pushing off of the floor with the other and lifting her with him, walking them over to the bed with one of her legs dangling as he carries her with his arm hooked under the other. “I take the question back.”

“Nuh uh,” she hums, grunting a little as he drops her onto the mattress, pretending to ignore his hands sliding up her shirt. “You put the offer on the table. I want our house to be green.”

Lip stops and looks down at her as she smiles up at him softly. Keeping one hand on her chest, he slides into the bed behind her, resting his head next to hers. “Yeah? What else?”

“Phillip.” Charlotte pouts, turning back to her husband after taking in the room. There’s no furniture, but it’s decorated with little lights and a blanket and pillows on the floor along with all types of different kinds of snacks and more flowers.

“Uh…I figured you’d wanna get the furniture with me. And…we’re gonna have to wait until our next paychecks to get some. But…uh, I had Ian and Mickey help me set this shit up. And then I kicked em out because…Mickey’s an asshole and wanted to control everything. He’s into this shit you know…but…um…happy birthday, Charlotte.”

Charlotte continues to gape at him in disbelief. Her eyes are wide, mouth opening and closing. She’s speechless as she stares at the man in the doorway.

“You, uh, you like it?”

It’s a good thing he can carry her. Because the way she launched herself at him with no warning would’ve brought someone else to the floor. Instead he relaxes in her hold, wrapping his arms around her waist as she wraps her legs around his.

Smoothing her hands over his blond curls, Charlotte looks at Lip. Really looks at him. She gives him that look only she’s ever been able to deliver him. The one he works for every time he busted his ass at work, or chose to skip out on getting a beer. Scraped together every spare penny he had for that look. “I love you.” she breathes, smiling at him. “You gave me a house.”

“You…you gave me a home so…it was the fuckin’ least I could do.”

All Charlotte could do is bury her face in his shoulder.

But it was true. She saved him, gave him a purpose. She made Lip want to be a man. One that his family deserved. One that deserved her.

“Wow.”

Lip glances over at his sister from his spot in the empty kitchen, closing the fridge door before making his way over to her. “You like it?”

“This is…really nice, Lip.” Fiona slowly makes her way through the pace, peeking her head into the bathroom. “You can afford this?”

The blond shrugs noncommittally, crossing his arms. “Close enough. I never gave Charlotte’s dad back the money, and I’ve got my promotion, plus the money she and I have saved up…we’ll be straight.”

“Good. Good.” Fiona hums, looking around the room. She rolls her lips inward, taking a deep breath. “That’s good, Lip.”

Lip’s eyes narrow as he watches his sister’s demeanor as she takes in the extremely large decision he made and immediately feels a wave of insecurity wash over him. “Fuckin’ what?”

“What?”

“Why’re you actin’ like that? All…like what you don’t think she’ll fuckin’ like it? Or…or-”

“She’ll like it! Jesus! What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lip huffs, dragging his hands over his face. “Like, you think I messed up or somethin’?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I’m proud of you, asshole!” his sister whips around to face him, pale face flushed pink as she sniffs, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m…I’m really fuckin’ proud of you.”

Lip stops, feeling the anger and embarrassment he had building drain from his body as it turns into concern for his eldest sister. He slides onto the wooden floor, leaning his back against the island and quietly pats the spot on the floor next to him. “And?”

Fiona sighs, dropping her purse to the side before slipping into the spot next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you and…it should be me.”

Lip nods silently as he digs in his pants pocket and pulls out a pre-rolled blunt he’d been keeping to celebrate with Ian later. Fiona needs it more. Flicking his lighter to life he christens the townhome with the scent of weed, praying the neighbors wouldn’t complain before he even got to move Charlotte in. “‘Kay.”

“Like,” Fiona sniffs, grabbing the blunt and taking a deep drag. “I feel like all of a sudden you’ve got this normal ass life. Got a wife, a house, a real job. And I’m still here, still working bullshit jobs, still taking care of kids that aren’t mine, still fuckin’ the same losers-”

“Uh, that one guy had some money right? The uh…the drug addict’s brother? Jimmy-” Lip adds, glancing at her out of the side of his eye to see if he’d effectively lightened the mood.

Fiona nudges him with her shoulder, passing the blunt back. “Dude, fuck you, for real.”

Lip chuckles, nudging her back before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “But uh…for real, I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t have been able to get here without you, like caring about us not bein’ complete hoodrats growin’ up. So…um…thanks.”

The brunette looks at her brother with an amused grin, shaking her head as she takes in the man before her, barely able to recognize him as the snot nosed little brat that used to get the shit kicked out of him at the playground for conning kids out of their ice cream money in order to get them one to share. “God, you better hope you never fuck things up with her. Wasn’t me. That girl raised your ass.”

The pair spends the night wrapped in each other. They eat in their new house and it feels surreal. The quiet. The comfortability. For the first time since they got married, they got to feel like husband and wife, not two teenagers with promise rings shacking up in their parents’ house.

They make love on top of the blankets on their living room floor, sharing air and clutching each other close. The only sound echoing in the empty house is their heavy breathing and there’s no sense of urgency.

And when they’re done they shower, peacefully and in hot water.

As he watches his wife drift off to sleep next to him, his body serving as a cushion for her from the hardwood floors all he can think about is how maybe all of the shit he tolerated earlier in life was to prepare him to really be able to appreciate this.

“You’re gonna live here?” Debbie frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares up at her oldest brother.

“Uh, yeah, Debs, me and Charlotte are gonna be stayin’ here from now on.”

The day after Charlotte’s birthday the couple invited the remaining Gallagher siblings, Mickey, Kev and V over to see their new place. They were all sworn to keep the new address a secret from Frank and Monica if she ever rolls into town again. Some of their family members were taking the news of the move better than others.

Debbie loves Charlotte. She’s the girly, fun older sister vibe that she’s always wanted. While she loves Fiona, she’d always acted more as a mother figure than a sister, so she couldn’t necessarily be the fun one. But the real heartbreak was Lip. Debbie had always been a Lip girl. Carl had Fiona, Debbie had Lip, that was the way it worked. How could he help her with her homework, or pick her up from the bus stop everyday from out here?

She’d been glad he’d gotten a girlfriend at first. She was nice, and pretty and made Lip nicer. And happier. She didn’t think she ever saw Lip smile as much as when he was with Charlotte. And then he married her and it was even better. But now…now it felt like Lip was becoming a part of something that had nothing to do with the rest of them.

“Great, so Lip gets to take Charlotte and gets to move out of our shit house, what do the rest of us get?” Carl huffs, kicking a box that was clearly marked ‘Lip’s shit’ causing the vein in his brother’s neck to pop.

“Make your own damn money, how about that, shithead.” Lip slaps the back of his brother’s head before picking up a box and carrying it into the kitchen.

Distantly he could hear Charlotte promising the kids that they would get to visit the house all of the time and that she and Lip will visit them so often it’ll feel like they hadn’t moved at all. He rolls his eyes to himself in some fake showing of irritation, but is inwardly proud to be with someone so kind to his siblings.

They’d moved the bed they shared at V and Kev’s house to theirs early this morning. So, now, they officially had one singular piece of furniture. They plan to work their way to getting more as time develops, mainly because Charlotte was not okay with looking over the shit people had thrown away before it hit the junkyard. Lip had tried to explain to her that it wasn’t technically trash until it got there, but she was strongly against it.

Kev gifted them a hot tv that one of his customers dragged into the bar about a month ago and was currently mounting the small screen in their living room. The place was sort’ve coming together. At least to their standards.

Lip’s siblings stay for a couple hours and decide to head home when the second bus heads out. As Fiona slings Liam’s diaper bag over her shoulder and Ian picks him up, Charlotte and Lip exchange a look.

“Hey, uh, Fi, can we talk to you really quick?”

Fiona places the bag down, shrugging “sure.” before following Lip and Charlotte into the kitchen. The latter pushes her way up to sit on the counter and Lip stands between her legs, her hands resting on his chest as he leans back into her, facing his sister. “What’s up?”

Lip hesitates slightly. He knows this topic is gonna piss her off. He rolls his tongue in his cheek as he thinks about how to approach the conversation in the least damaging way possible, rubbing his thumb along Charlotte’s thigh for comfort. “We uh, has CPS reached out yet?”

“Not yet.” Fiona starts, tucking her hair behind her ear, wrapping her arms around herself. “The house is…pretty cleaned up, so as long as Hurricane Frank doesn’t hit before they come we should be alright this time. But, uh, when they come I’ll call you.”

“Right, we were thinking. That um,” Lip sucks in a breath, scrubbing down his face before deciding fuck it he was gonna have to get it out sometime. “Maybe, maybe Liam should stay with us for a while. We talked about it yesterday, and we’ve got room for ‘em so-”

“Why?”

There it was. The kicked puppy, ‘are you tryin’ to say I’m not doing a good job’ look that he wanted to avoid. And now here come the dramatics.

“Fi-” he sighs.

“No. No, why would he stay with you? He’s been perfectly fine with me at our house. You’ve got this place for like, two seconds and you already think you’re better than somebody?”

Lip can feel the irritation building under his skin. His jaw works as he breathes out heavily and he feels Charlotte’s hand tug lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“It was just a thought, Fiona.” Charlotte cuts in. “Phillip is his legal guardian right? We just thought it might make things easier for the CPS visit. Easier on everyone, you know? We just wanna help.”

Fiona’s lips twist as if she was forcing herself to hold her tongue. She opts for shaking her head, moving away from the pair to leave the kitchen. “Help yourselves. That’s what Lip wants to do anyway.”

As the couple hears the rest of their family be ushered out of the house and the door slam behind them, Charlotte pulls Phillip to her, placing his face in her cheeks. “Are you okay?”

The man sucks his teeth and shrugs. “Yeah, she’s just dealin’ with shit. She’ll get over it. She’s sensitive about the whole, me being Liam’s legal guardian thing and now she’s being a bitch about it.”

Charlotte nods, with an easy smile. “Yeah, but I mean with all of it. You’re moving out of your family home. Away from your younger siblings. It’s different, and I wanna make sure you don’t feel like…rushed or somethin’.”

“Bunny, I’m the one who got us the house. I’m fine. That’s my old life, right? This is my new one. I’m startin’ it with you.” Lip smiles, pulling her into a kiss and tugging her off of the counter, holding her up by her ass as she wraps her legs around him. “Now we have to find places to fuck in this house that we couldn’t living with all 5,000 Gallaghers.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes as Lip flips her up onto his shoulder, landing a loud smack on her ass. “My prince charming.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ better be, I bought you a damn house!”

“Ha! How long are you gonna milk that?”

Lip meant what he’d said about starting a new life with Charlotte.

It was the one thing he still believes her father was right about. He’d have to choose. Not to cut off his siblings and old life completely, but he couldn’t stay the way he was and be with Charlotte. He couldn’t have the life he wanted. He didn’t even know that he could live like this.

Good, happy homes were things of fairy tales in the Gallagher house just like unicorns and magic wands. Nothing was gonna happen to make their lives better, they just had to make do. It was a hard lesson they all learned. Hell, Debbie was starting to see now. You work, grind, steal, and have small bursts of mania where you get to taste happiness, and then you fall hard. And Monica and Frank show up to trip you on your way down to make your fall even harder.

Even when Charlotte showed up, she was the lone beam of light in the otherwise deep pit he was born into. He didn’t know there was anything else. Until he started to set a routine in this new life with Charlotte.

Somehow, waking up at 7:30 to get ready for work was easier for Lip when he was with her. Don’t get him wrong, was he a morning person? Absolutely fucking not. But, having his sexy wife laying in bed next to him, waking him up with kisses and the occasional handjob definitely helped.

“Goodmorning.” she whispers, kissing him again.

Lip smooths his hand along her jaw and just stares up in awe that this is what he wakes up to. That they can have moments like this, where there’s nothing else, no one else. Just them.

He’s at peace, spending the first few minutes of his day running his hand from the nape of Charlotte’s neck to her ass as she lays on his chest and rambles about what the fuck ever. The girls at one job or the other. Something crazy V was doing. Some tv show that it was apparently a crime he hadn’t seen.

She doesn’t try to force him to talk, knowing he’s not into talking early in the morning. He just wants her next to him. He just wants her there.

By 7:40 she’s dragging out of bed, despite his loose grip trying to pull her back into it. “Bubba, shower, you have to leave soon and I wanna have time to eat breakfast together.” she pouts.

He raises a brow, resting his arm behind his head. “Gonna be careful this time?”

Charlotte huffs, flipping him off with her bandaged middle finger. One of three injuries she’s sustained since they now have a stove that actually gets hot.

Lip chuckles as he watches her storm down the hallway and start jogging down the steps. “I’m rubbin’ off on you!”

“Yeah, that’s the only rubbing that’s gonna be going on around here, jerk.”

Shaking his head he actually gets up and showers. And its fuckin’ wild. There’s hot water. He doesn’t have to wait 30 minutes for it to come and hurry up and scrub before it turns cold again. He doesn’t have to call out to go first and race to get there anyway. He either goes first, because Charlotte heads in later than him or they shower together. Lip can take his time but he doesn’t because he knows there’s food downstairs. It won’t be spoiled. It won’t be stolen. Maybe a little burnt if Charlotte hurts herself again. And he doesn’t have to pretend he’s not hungry after grabbing his plate because he can see there’s not enough for his little siblings to eat.

Maybe Charlotte’s dad was right, there’s something to be said about choosing to move on with the person you’re in love with. Maybe there’s a reason normal people move out and get married and only see their original family once or twice a year. Maybe Lip thinks he is better than someone, everyone in the fucking hood he grew up in and God or whatever else was overlording his bullshit life up until this point finally decided he deserves more. And so they gave him his fucking wife. And now all he needs to do is not fucking look back.

So he doesn’t. He moves on. Just him and Charlotte. Aside from a few texts with Ian, who was very understanding about Lip’s new resolve to move on from their shit filled lives, he was disconnected from everything Gallagher. A full two weeks go by without him visiting their old shack of a house. Fiona never calls and the only Lip thinks to miss is the kids.

Charlotte thought the whole situation was bullshit.

“Hey, bubba, you spoke to any of your brother’s and sister’s today?” She asks, leaning in the doorframe to their bedroom. Lip is sitting criss-crossed on the floor, using the laptop the company gave him to get some work done that he hadn’t finished earlier. He doesn’t look up from the laptop as he holds his arm out, scooting the electronic to one leg so Charlotte can sit on the other.

She perches herself on his leg, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and leaning her head on his. “Uh nope. What do you want for dinner?”

“Hmm,” she hums, nuzzling her nose into his cheek. “For you to call your sister?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlotte.”

“I know you miss them. Moving out doesn’t mean cutting ties!”

“Yep, off.” He says, lifting her up and off his lap, placing her on the floor next to him. “It’s normal to grow up and not see your siblings every fuckin’ day, Charlotte.”

“Yes, but this is a tantrum, Phillip. There’s a difference.” She huffs, watching him put a headphone in, snatching it back out.

“I’m working.”

“We’re talking, Phillip!”

“No, you’re fuckin’ yelling.” Lip sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “But if you want to have a serious conversation, we could talk about your jobs.”

“Again.” Charlotte rolls her eyes, flopping back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I mean you’re still working there so…”

“It helps, Phillip. And I like the people there.”

“Oh my fucking god, yes,” Lip snaps the laptop closed, standing and crossing his arms. “Please, baby, tell me how much you like the limp dick perverts that come to your jobs to eyefuck you.”

“I’m not talking about them and you know that.” Charlotte grumbles, grabbing the blanket from the bottom of the bed and tugging it over her head. “You’re being mean and I’m just trying to help you.” she muffles.

“Fuckin’” Lip grits his teeth, taking a deep breath before sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his forehead where he knows her stomach is. “I’m sorry baby, you married a dick.”

“I know.”

“You know,” he laughs, leaning more weight on her and scoffing at her ‘oof’. “You callin’ me heavy or something?”

“It’s…like…an…elephant is stepping on me.”

“Fuck you.” he chuckles. Lip pulls lightly at the blanket. “Look at me, Bunny?” The blanket folds down and Charlotte gives him her big brown eyes, staring up at him. “Baby, I fuckin’ love that you love my family, despite the absolute shit storm that they are. But I’ve spent my life dealin’ with that shit. I’m fuckin’ tired of beggin’ and crawlin’ back to the clusterfuck I was born into. I’m fuckin’ tired, Bunny. This is the family I wanna focus on. Us, baby.”

She smiles at that, smoothing her thumb over his lips, squealing when he lightly bites the digit with his teeth. “Ow, okay, jackass. Stop being cute.”

“Where did you get that goddamn language from? Shit.”

Lip looks up from the small television as his ears hone in on the sound of Charlotte’s slippers shuffling across the wooden floor. His girl comes into view with an absent look on her face. She’d finished doing her hair, the long black silk now split into a half up half down. Her body is covered (barely) by her short, white tank top dress.

They had people over. Charlotte had insisted that Lip at least try to make friends with the guys from work if he refused to mend the bridge between him and his siblings and start hanging out with them again. After a lot of whining, nagging and actual kicking, Lip promised to invite the guys to their new house to watch the game.

The guys from work were trying to be respectful. He could give them that. Whether it be because they know about what happened with Eric or because they genuinely are trying to be his friends, as she skips into view, her thighs shining in the light from the lamp, the short dress fighting to cover her ass, they all work to fix their eyes onto the screen.

“Phillip?” she says sweetly, slipping an arm around his neck and hopping into his lap, blindly trusting him to catch her. He obviously does.

“Yes, baby?” He tugs her dress down as he brings her legs over his so she can sit more comfortably.

“Are you hungry?” She sighs, pushing his hair back, smiling when his eyes slip closed lightly as her fingers scratch his scalp. “I’m hungry.”

“Uh, no baby, m’not hungry, but uh-”

She lets out an annoyed, high pitched whine that has Lucas’ eyes darting over briefly. Come on Luc, I fuckin’ like you, hold it down. “Are your friends hungry?”

Lip peaks around her to address them, brows raised and is quickly met with several panicked versions of ‘no thank you’ ‘I already ate’ and ‘my girlfriend will kill me if I eat without her.’ “Charlotte, just eat those leftover noodles we made earlier and when the game’s over I’ll take you somewhere.”

She huffs again before leaning in and meeting Lip in a kiss, he had never realized how noisily they kissed until they were in front of other people. When she fully pulls away to pad off into the kitchen, a final smack sounds in the room that has his cheeks reddening and his hand refraining from patting her ass like he normally would.

Charlotte moving around in the kitchen doesn’t serve as a problem. She’s not loud and seems to be perfectly satisfied just preparing her snack and chilling by herself. Lip is temporarily able to focus on the game again, talking to Noah about how it’s number 9’s retirement year and how they need this win to stay in the season.

“Yeah, but he’s a fuckin’ idiot, they’re not goin’ anywhere.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re watchin’ Gallagher, let him make the play and…”

Lip waits for Noah to finish his argument, ready to scoff at whatever bullshit response he has but it never comes. He looks around at the other guys to see them all watching something over his head. He turns, following their gaze over to the counter. “Fuckin’ shit.”

There’s his wife, sitting on their counter with not a care in the world. Her dress riding up, the flesh of her thighs spread on the cool countertops. Her head tossed back, eyes closed, mouth open and tongue out as she slurps down the noodles as if it was the first meal she’d had in days, stopping only briefly in between to pop her fingers into her mouth to suck up the fallen droplets of broth. Jesus Christ could he even blame them?

He hops out of his seat as fast as his legs can carry him, blocking her from his guests' view. “Charlotte, c’mon baby, what’re you doin’?”

Her brows furrow as she fixes him a confused look, she swallows the noodles in her mouth and scoops more up with the chopsticks. “What? You said I could have ‘em, you wanted some?” she offers sweetly, bringing the food to his lips.

“Why are you eating on the counter?” He whisper yells, dragging her closer to him.

“You and your friends are in the only seats, where else was I supposed to go?”

“The bed?”

“I don’t wanna get food in there!”

“I’d have given you a seat!”

“Or you could take me to pick out more chairs.” she hums, slurping the noodles he still hadn’t accepted into her mouth, moaning dramatically as she eats them. And then it hits him. “With my paycheck. From my job.”

“You little fuckin’ brat.”

“A brat who’s getting new chairs?”

Lip points his finger in her face, pushing her forehead gently. “You’re fucking irritating.”

“I love you too.” She chirps, hopping down off of the counter. “M’gonna let you hang out with your friends. Go see what our family is up to. You want me to bring you anything back or…?”

“Just keep your purse close.” He mumbles.

Charlotte rolls her eyes, making a big show of kissing her husband before walking out of the door.

“Thanks for coming out to meet me. I know you have to work later.” Charlotte sips her water, running her finger along the cool condensation. “I’m really sorry about what happened a couple weeks ago, Fi.”

Fiona kicks Charlotte’s leg lightly. “I told you, stop apologizin’. I don’t blame you just because you’re my prick brother’s wife. I just don’t know where that kid gets off, you know? Acting like I can’t take care of our siblings, like I always have. I raised that little asshole too.”

Charlotte fidgets in her seat at that. While she still agrees it may be good for Liam to come live with her and Phillip, she also understands why the idea would hurt Fiona. Instead of arguing with the girl she just frowns and decides to address what she came for. “I understand that it’s not all on you or anything, but, don’t you feel like it’s been a while since you guys have talked?”

“Mm, not the longest we’ve gone.” Fiona says nonchalantly, eating a couple fries.

“But, don’t you guys miss each other?”

“Look, Lottie, Lip is being a fuckin’ Gallagher. He’s got something good goin’ right now so he’s jumping ship. Logging off, taking some vacation time from the job that it is to be part of this family. We all do it. Get high and mighty when we have something good we can latch onto.” She takes a sip of her soda before crossing her arms. “He’ll be back.”

“When?” Charlotte asks, shifting forward. “I know he misses you guys. I know you guys miss him. What about the younger kids?”

“This is what they know. Gallaghers get another offer and fuckin’ dip. And then we come crawling back when we absolutely fucking tank whatever good thing we had going. And the other Gallaghers know that we have to take them back.” Fiona sighs, resting her chin in her hand.

“But…what we have isn’t going to end.” Charlotte says. “This time…this time aren’t you guys gonna have to learn how one of you can be happy and still keep a relationship with the rest of you?”

Fiona stares at Charlotte from across the table, lips pursed. The rational side of her brain tells her it’s true. It tells her that her little shithead brother was changing and evolving. That he’s a man now, with a family, and their dynamic would have to change if they were going to stay in each other’s lives.

But the other part of her still has doubts. It knows that Lip is Monica and Frank’s son at the end of the day. He’s a Gallagher. They break what they touch. Property, promises and people. As much as she loves Charlotte, she can only think it’s a matter of time before he fucks up and she leaves or he drags her down with him. As far as Fiona was concerned, Lip was playing house, and the game had to end eventually.

“Fuckin’ nasty.” Lip sneers, dumping the collection of beers his coworkers had left in the living room. Now that he has a generally clean house, it was easier to notice when it’s dirty. Dumping the trash bag next to the counter and making a mental note to take it out before Charlotte got home and made a big deal about it before dramatically tripping over it and declaring that Lip tried to kill her, Lip pulls his phone from his pocket. She’s been gone for a while.

His stomach grumbles and he decides to text her to see if she ever got around to getting food or if she wanted him to make her something too when he fed himself. He’d have to feed her before he dragged her to bed and taught her why she shouldn’t tease him while his horny, idiot coworkers are interloping in their home.

As he’s sending the message the doorbell rings and Lip snorts. Taking his sweet old time as he shuffles over to the door. “Oh, someone forgot their fuckin’ keys again, huh, Bunny?” He smugly cracks his neck before pulling open the door, “How’re you gonna thank me for lettin’ you in, huh?”

“I…I just really needed to see you.”

Lip’s eyes shoot open and he immediately takes a step back in shock, almost reflexively slams the door shut.

“Wh-Mandy what the fuck?”

#oc #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #love #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #kevin ball #lip gallagher x oc #shameless #veronica fisher #charlotte fisher #better #lip gallagher x you #ian gallagher x mickey milkovich #ian x mickey

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