#and you’re gonna die if you remain One of Those

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Witnesses when they see someone going through a life-altering crisis:

[Text ID: The “It’s free real estate” meme, captioned with the words “It’s free service time.” End text ID.]

[abyssruler]

TROPES

ft. jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!reader

JING YUAN - reincarnation

They say the Arbiter General of the Luofu only takes a lover every few decades, each one doomed to end in the tragedy that befalls that of a love between a short-life species and a long-life one. It’s widely speculated why the famed general chooses to continue taking short-life species for lovers, knowing the ending that would come about such a union. Jing Yuan cares not for idle gossip, save for the fact that people spread misinformation about him taking multiple lovers, but he can hardly tell everyone that he has only had one lover throughout his centuries of life. It’s just that you always happen to die far too soon for his liking. He fears sometimes, during those first few years after your death, that you’ll never come back, that one day he’ll wake up and realize that hundreds of years have passed without you. But you never fail to appear decades later with a smile on your lips and an apology on your tongue, soothing years’ worth of worries with a few measly words. Sorry, Yuan, I’ll be sure to live longer this time.

DAN HENG - soulmates

The Imbibitor Lunae was not only tasked to bear the responsibility of being the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he was also destined for a love that spanned beyond lifetimes. Dan Heng knows of the story between the previous incarnations of you and the Imbibitor Lunae. Reincarnating at the same time, falling in love, and repeating it all over again in a never ending cycle that Dan Heng had been sure to end—that was, until he met you. Jing Yuan told him of your decision to forcefully reincarnate as well after Dan Feng’s crime, so it stands to reason that you shouldn’t feel anything for Dan Heng at all, what with this incarnation of yours having never met him in this lifetime. And yet, you keep looking at him with such softness, something like nostalgia in the tone of your voice as you spoke with him, that he can’t help but feel as though he, like his previous incarnations before him, can do nothing but fall into that never-ending cycle of love and being loved.

BLADE/YINGXING - time travel

Yingxing thinks you’re strange. Not in a bad way, of course, only that your mannerisms and way of conduct when it comes to him and his companions is odd. He’s caught you almost calling Dan Feng the wrong name, Dan He-something. You keep demanding Jing Yuan to spar with you for what you dubbed was a ‘rematch’, though Yingxing has no recollection of any instances of you and Jing Yuan fighting before. But it all pales in comparison to the way you act with him. You’re overly familiar, smiling and talking to him as though you’ve known him for years instead of a single month after he discovered you wounded on an alley with a broken blade. He still remembers the look of relief on your face when he crouched in front of you in concern. Blade, Kafka’s gonna kill me, this is the fiftieth sword I broke this month, was all you said before passing out. Despite the oddity of your first meeting, he found himself getting close to you, drawn in by your smile and your laugh and the tender way you looked at him. He imagined spending what remained of his life with you, but you disappeared a day before he was supposed to confess his feelings. It isn’t until many years later, when Elio is introducing the newest member of the Stellaron Hunters, that Blade connects the dots amidst his fractured memory. And it isn’t until another few years that you confirm his suspicions. Blade, you won’t believe what I just went through—or rather, when!

[palajae]

eastside.

PAIRING... agent!riki x agent!reader | GENRE... partners! au, romance, angst, mentions of violent, blood, guns, death implications | WC... 1k | “i’m not doing to die, you idiot.”

it’s pretty simple, really. 

you and your partner were sent out on an undercover mission—as a couple on vacation. you thought that last bit was unnecessary, but for some reason your partner insisted on the cover story. it made it all the more believable. 

whatever, you were used to it. after all, working together for four years made your teamwork and bond the best of the best. it wasn’t everyday that you were assigned to a s-class mission. that is, until your cover was blown. 

luckily, everyone had been evacuated before the resort had gone under fire, leaving you two to deal with the remaining mess.

“when’s backup coming?”

“it’s gonna take at least thirty minutes. we’re not exactly in the most accessible of locations.”  his voice sounds rather exasperated through the earpiece. 

everything seemed clear, it was just up to you two to get out of the place. you duck down, avoiding as much crashing and falling debris as possible. you needed to get to him. stealthily, you’re able to make it to the exit, peeking around the corner to spot your partner. 

right as you’re about to run over, you feel the hairs on your arm rise. quickly, you scan the area, only to spot a flash of movement from above. there was still one straggler remaining. you curse when you notice the gun in his hands.

you were just out of his view, but your partner was in his plain sight. and he was completely oblivious, you knew he looking around for you like always. 

“ki, i need you to fall back.” you try your best to keep your voice steady and calm, although the slight quiver at the end of your words gives you away. 

“what?” he stops in his tracks, glancing around in confusion. 

“do it!” you beg. he falters, having never heard such desperation in your voice. 

“you trust me.” 

it wasn’t a question, but a statement. everything you needed to say, everything he needed to hear, was conveyed in those three words. 

you inhale, rushing into the open area and aiming your gun at the guy. he spots you as soon as ni-ki begins to retreat. 

please, you beg. 

for what exactly, you’re not sure. 

as soon as the shot goes off, ni-ki spots you and rushes to your side. heart pounding, he scans the area. since when was there another guy left? either way, the man is effectively taken out. 

“fifteen more minutes, guys.”

ni-ki could care less. he brushes a few stray hairs off your clean face. 

“y/n, you-“

why are your eyes closed? 

his blood runs cold when he pulls his hands back.

all he sees is red. 

“o-oh god y/n? listen, you’re fine. right? you’re okay.”

ni-ki tightens his hold around your limp body, eyes never leaving the sight of the red continually blooming from your stomach. he keeps pressure on the wound, doing his best not to freak out even more, but when he doesn’t receive any sort of response or reaction, his mouth dries. 

he calls out your name again and again, placing a hand on your face and shaking slightly as if that would immediately wake you up. 

"no, please! you just…you can’t leave me like this-“ his voice cracks. 

your eyes fly open in annoyance. “ni-ki! will you just shut up for a minute? i’m not going to die, you idiot.”

you sigh. you can feel it. 

he’s trembling. even worse, it’s the first time you’ve seen unshed tears in his eyes. 

you place your hand over his on your cheek, squeezing slightly as if to comfort him. that action is enough for you to allow your eyes to flutter shut. 

you felt really, really exhausted. so much to the point where everything seems to fade away, the sound of your partner’s panicked cries and the throbbing pain coming off in waves from your side.  

you put in countless years and years of hard work with no rest or relaxation—all the blood, sweat, and tears—just to get to this point. 

maybe, just for a brief second, you could rest. 

a/n ▸ so like… sorry? hope you enjoy this gift tho lovelies <3

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[msafterhours]

Play

Male Reader x Rocket Punch / EL7Z UP Yeonhee

~4.7k words

"You're overthinking this."

"No, I'm not!" you argue. "If I sneak over there, I can—"

CLANK!

A sudden bang silences your sorry excuse for hesitation as a shot glass appears in your line of sight and splashes liquor all over your arms.

“Apologies for the spillage,” Yeeun says to you. Her eyes tell an entirely different story as they roll: one of an identical exasperation that’s found in Yeoreum’s expression beside you. “A gift from the lovely lady at the end of the bar.”

You follow her gaze, eyes skipping along the bar stools until they reach the far side, where you hear hints of a giggle from the other side of the curtain of blonde they hide behind.

A sigh rips itself from your chest—not at Yeeun, mind you. Mostly at yourself, because you shouldn’t have assumed Yeonhee would let you host a party for the group without stirring up at least a bit of trouble. Then again, you didn’t expect her to put her plan into motion this early into the night.

“Ah, I see. Thanks, I guess.”

After another roll, Yeeun’s eyes turn to Yeoreum, capturing her in a conversation and leaving you entirely with no options other than to follow up on your gift. You rise, scoot in your stool, and walk around the countertop until you reach the end, where a certain someone awaits. “What are you doing, Yeonhee?”

The curtain parts as she flips her hair with a professional grace, revealing those twinkling eyes and slight smirk that refuse to ever leave your heart and mind. “Oh hey,” Yeonhee says, running a finger along the rim of her own shot glass. “You come here often?”

“This is literally my kitchen.” You remain standing, refusing to sink to her level and take the bait.

“So that’s a yes?”

You chuckle, you grimace, but most importantly, you cave. “Yes Yeonhee, I come here often.”

“Interesting …” she says, stretching the word out long enough that you almost believe her. “I would have guessed you’re the type who’d die without food delivery.”

“Hey!” you scoff, nose scrunching in indignation as you relent and pull up a stool beside her. “Who are you to talk when you’re constantly begging for me to make you midnight snacks?”

“Shush, not so loud,” Yeonhee murmurs, pulling you in closer as she leans in. “So … that means you know somewhere private we can go together?”

Her question tells you two things:

What exactly she’s trying to do with this little performance

That you chose a terrible time to try to take a drink of the drink she’d so kindly gotten for you

You fall into a fit of coughs as the burning liquid goes down the wrong pipe, leaving you gasping for air as everyone else in your apartment turns and grimaces at the sight. “Hey, you alright?”

A large hand slaps against your back, finally allowing you to inhale as Nana’s boyfriend looks at you with concern. You turn, still struggling to form words as you tell him, “Thanks, I—” but it gets cut off as another cough rips through you.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asks, leaning in closer.

You grab him by the shoulder, pulling him even closer as you finally regain the ability to string together words and whisper, “Name a number and I’ll pay you it if you can get the other six out of my apartment right now.”

“What? I—”

“Right. Now.” You silence any further questions with a slight smirk of your own, conveying everything he needs to know.

“₩200,000—”

“Done.”

“... and a favor,” he finishes.

You grimace, but in a split second and a single glance, your mind is made. Because you see her. Yeonhee. Eyes trained on you, expectations clear as day even as she’s so casual about it all: blowing a bubble with her gum—when the hell did she—hand in her hair as she twirls it around. 

“Done.” Turns out her hair’s not the only thing Yeonhee’s got wrapped around her finger.

“A pleasure,” he says, then turns to face the others. “Alright girls, first round at karaoke’s on me! We’re gonna give this guy,” he says, with a pitiful glance in your direction, “a chance to rest his vocal chords and Yeonhee a chance to play nurse. Everyone ready?”

It’s a pitiful excuse with all the subtlety of a freight train, but it seems you’re a sorry enough sight for the other members to let you off the hook. A few minutes later, once all the goodbyes are said and done, they finally depart and take their judgemental eyebrows with them, leaving you solely in the sights of Yeonhee’s fuck me eyes.

“Hey stranger,” she calls out, crossing her legs as she lounges against the countertop. “Looks like it’s just you and me now. Alone.”

“Looks like it,” you say, striding around the island to the excessive amount of alcohol intended for the party that was supposed to happen tonight. “Can I buy you a drink?”

A spark of pleasant surprise tugs at the corner of her mouth, mirth filling her expression as you play along. “Please do.”

You reach down, opening the cabinet and pulling out another pair of shot glasses—ones much bigger than you'd ever use for “responsible” social interactions. Two heaping helpings of hard alcohol later, you slide a glass across the countertop and into the expectant hand of your houseguest.

“So, what are we toasting to?” you ask. “Our good health? Family? Friends—like the ones we just kicked out?”

“Nah, nothing like that,” Yeonhee responds, the sparkle in her eye shining as bright as ever. “How about something even more special?”

“To us?” you suggest, offering your drink to her.

She leans forward, as if she’s intending to indulge and take a sip, but instead, she leans further in. It takes a moment for you to realize that she’s kissing you—subverting your expectations seems to be her specialty tonight—but as soon as the realization sets in, you’re all too eager to indulge. Your hairs stand on end as you melt into the contact, losing yourself in the connection and cursing its loss when she pulls away.

“To us,” Yeonhee confirms when you reopen your eyes and stare into hers, tipping her own glass to your lips as you both down the other’s drink, savoring the saccharine burn as it flows down your throat. You waste no time pulling Yeonhee into another, deeper kiss before she can take a breath. The faint hint of strawberry from the flavored vodka remains, but the softness of her lips is even sweeter. Your mind spirals as the kiss deepens, and the lids of your eyes shut, allowing you to focus on the other sensations overwhelming you.

The needy scrape of her teeth against your bottom lip. A moan, barely escaping her lungs and echoing against the inside of your mouth as she leans into you. Her scent: hints of vanilla hidden amongst the overpowering scents of alcohol that have long since overtaken your kitchen. Another taste entirely emerges as the kiss deepens further and her nibbles become more insistent, nipping at your skin and drawing the taste of iron from your veins.

Some foolish sense of self-preservation forces you to pull away, leaving you stunned by the sight of Yeonhee, eyes focused on you as she drags the back of her hand against her lips, wiping away any evidence of her misdeeds as she smiles all too sweetly. “You wanna like, get out of here?”

“Oh yeah? And go where?”

“You could take me back to your place.”

“Yeonhee, we … sure. Let’s go back to my place,” you accept, eyes too wide to roll as she stands and saunters over to you.

“Wonderful. Mind giving me a ride?” Yeonhee asks as she closes the distance, stunning you once more as the scent of her perfume reaches your senses.

“Of course,” you say, sweeping her up into your arms. Your heart melts all over again as she yelps in surprise, wrapping her arms around your neck as you hold her close against your chest. You circle around your living room once, twice, thrice, and while the sound effects of screeching tires and honking horns might be a bit unnecessary, the melodious laughter that rings out from Yeonhee makes it more than worth the effort.

Finally, you set her back down, but make sure to pull her into a hug, keeping her close as you whisper, “Alright babe, we’re home. What now?”

“We could do another round of shots,” Yeonhee offers, though the suggestion’s a formality at best when she pulls away from you and sits down on the couch with legs so invitingly spread. “Or …”

“I could taste something even sweeter,” you finish. A quick glimpse at her eyes gives you all the invitation you need, gives you that last bit of confirmation that your thoughts couldn’t be more aligned.

You settle into a familiar position: seated between Yeonhee’s creamy thighs, head shaking in disapproval at the sorry excuse for a pair of shorts separating you from your desires. It’s with a practiced poise that your fingers hook into the waistband of her shorts and then further still, capturing her panties and removing both barriers in a single tug.

“So eager …” Yeonhee murmurs, corners of her mouth curling as giggles slip past her lips. You lose any chance you might have had to respond as you look up into her eyes and your train of thought is completely derailed by the sight of her bottom lip, captured between her teeth as she wordlessly begs for you to continue.

Unfortunately for her, instead of diving into the main course, your exhales serve as an appetizer, cascading hot breaths across her glowing skin. Your fingertips trace symbols alongside the insides of her thighs, spelling out names, places, and whatever the fuck else your imagination can come up with as you send faint shockwaves across her synapses, triggering the slightest of shivers across her body. Any hints of laughter died many moments ago, replaced by her best attempt as disinterest as she mumbles and grumbles and asks can’t you just get on with it?, but her words quiver and die on her lips as she whimpers in frustration.

Her hands find a home in your hair and dig into your scalp, growing more insistent by the second as she stares at you through half-lidded eyes, letting out impatient, exasperated sniffles as you just barely miss her most sensitive areas. In the dim glow of your apartment, you see a faint sheen of arousal coating her folds, but it’s nothing compared to the torrent of pleas and promises as Yeonhee asks why? and please? and begs for you to stop teasing me …

Part of you wants to acquiesce, give your beautiful girlfriend what she wants like you always do, but instead, your hands clamp down on her thighs, capturing them in a firm grip, denying Yeonhee the friction she so desperately craves even as she squirms and kicks and struggles to bring herself over the edge. You’re perfectly in tune with Yeonhee’s desires, reading her shudders and shakes like notes on a sheet, using her body as the instrument of your desires as you play her a symphony of suffering, a cacophony of crescendos that you cut short before they can ascend all the way up the scale.

The performance sends ripples across the rest of her body, sending waves of tension along the tight muscles of her stomach before ascending further upward. One of your hands follows the path up to her breast and its painfully hard nipple, capturing it between two fingers and tweaking the sensitive nub, earning another heavy gasp through gritted teeth as Yeonhee loses further control of her labored breaths.

A sigh.

A plea.

A moan.

A scream.

All of it mixes together in your ears, just another drop amidst the river of incoherent muttering spilling forth from Yeonhee’s lips. There’re curses and cries, requests for mercy and hopes that you die, a spate of stammered and slurred syllables that grow your smirk ever wider as you oh so slowly inch closer to her core.

Another exhale, a brief brush of the back of your knuckle against her clit, another pinch of her nipple—you employ every tactic available in your arsenal as she slumps back against the couch, reveling in the raw desperation on her face as arousal overwhelms her ability to fight back. You’re sadistic enough to keep her teetering on that precipice for a few minutes longer, just long enough for her cloudy eyes to fog over and for every single muscle in her body to clench.

It’s at that pinnacle of tension that you pounce, lips latching onto the swollen bud of her clit and sucking hard as you slip a pair of fingers into her dripping folds. Immediately, her whimpers turn to wails then die in her throat, her voice breaking as little raindrops of relief spill from the corners of her eyes.

Yeonhee melts into the couch as the tremors overtake her and waves of pleasure crash over her body. The gasps of breath she breathes in between her sobs are your favorite song, an orchestra of overwhelming release that you demand an encore of. Even as her back arches, her toes curl, her eyelids shut and her fingertips dig into your scalp, your hunger persists, driving you to demand more.

Another thrust of your fingers. Another kiss on her thigh. Another brush against her clit. Then another. And another. Her fingers dig deeper still, clinging to you like you’re her only tether to reality even as you’re the one bringing her to the brink of madness. Her moans climb an octave, then higher still, offering little affirmations of fuck and yes and please as you chase your shared desire.

The second orgasm comes quicker and hits much harder than the first, sweeping over Yeonhee like a hurricane and leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. The way she spasms, the way she shakes, it’s picturesque how her juices leak out and coat your face. Her walls clamp down on your fingers and force you to slow your pace to a crawl, allowing Yeonhee to come down from the high you’ve brought her to.

With that, you finally withdraw from her, mesmerized by the sight of her chest rising and falling in time with the heavy breaths she desperately sucks into her lungs. “So?” you ask, shamelessly smug as you lick the juices off of your soaked fingers. “Was that everything you were hoping for when you saw me from across the bar?”

“Not even close,” Yeonhee fires back, eyes burning bright as she stands and meets your eyes. “But it’s a damned good start.”

She leans in before you can reply, capturing your lips with fervent need as she pulls you close. “You know what I think?” she murmurs.

“What?”

“You, my dear,” Yeonhee murmurs. “Are way too overdressed.”

Yeonhee punctuates her point by dropping your belt to the ground—when did she even—and skating her hands up your stomach before hooking her fingers into the waistband of your jeans. With an insistent tug, she catches your eyes, pouting oh so prettily. Her teeth catch in her lower lip, pressing against it so, so softly as even as her desire threatens to set the room ablaze. And just in case that wasn’t enough—

“Please?”

No’s never an option when she asks so nicely. You do as she desires, lifting your shirt above your head and plunging the room into darkness for a moment. As your vision returns, you’re met with the sight of an empty room, save for Yeonhee’s shirt fluttering in the wind, acting as the sole hint as to where she’s gone. Well, that and the melodious laughter echoing down the hallway.

A soft smile spreads across your face as you follow the sounds of her footsteps, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake as your mind races. Part of you wants to play this slow, deny her desires even further, but that single syllable echoes throughout your head. Please. It’s unfair, really. She’s unfair. But that’s also what makes it so fucking fun.

At the top of the stairs awaits the entrance to your bedroom, and within lies an image that stops your heart for a swift second: Yeonhee, lounging atop the bed, her golden river of hair cascading over the pillows as she licks her lips at the sight of you.

“So.”

“So?”

“So,” you deadpan, taking slow, measured steps until you reach the foot of the bed. “What now?”

“I had an idea … if you’re willing to humor me,” Yeonhee offers, recapturing her hair around her finger and twirling it around, just like she did at the start of all of this.

“I’ve been doing so all night, no reason to stop now,” you jest, earning a mirrored smile that manages to just barely hint at Yeonhee’s adorable charm beneath the sultry expression.

“So … what if I laid back?” Yeonhee asks as she twists herself on the bed and hangs her head off its edge. Her eyelashes, still damp from your earlier torment, flutter up at you and send your stomach spiraling into knots. There’s this magnetism to her, something about those doe-like eyes that sends you into decision paralysis as you ponder whether to lean down and kiss her on the nose or shove your cock down her throat and see just how messy your pretty girl can get for you.

“What if you took this incredible cock,” she purrs, warm breath cascading over your cock and sending shivers down your spine. She tilts back and parts her lips, mirth lurking in the corner of her smirk as she asks:

“And fucked my face like this?”

Your body reacts before the words even register in your mind, one hand cupping her cheek as the other guides your cock closer, positioning yourself right above her face. Her eyes widen in both desire and delight as she opens her mouth even wider, allowing you to push yourself forward into her waiting warmth. Yeonhee wraps her lips around you, enveloping you and sucking you even deeper as her tongue darts forth, exploring every available inch of your shaft as you continue ever deeper.

A deep, guttural groan rips itself from your chest as Yeonhee bobs her head back and forth, sending waves of boiling crimson through your veins. Both of your hands find a home amidst the silky strands of Yeonhee’s hair, gripping tighter with every withdrawal and subsequent thrust of your hips. Your eyes keep glancing downwards, checking for fear in your lover’s eyes, but Yeonhee meets your stare every time with a mirror of the desire and arousal she evokes in you so effortlessly.

As your breaths shorten, Yeonhee’s tongue grows more daring, more insistent. Her intoxicating presence quickly overwhelms your senses; the sight of her in such a vulnerable position, the scent of her skin so tantalizingly close to you, and the downright vile symphony of chokes gasps moans and more as she struggles to withstand the intensity she demands of you. Even with her words taken from her, the way she claws at the inside of your thighs and the seal her lips have on your cock—she makes every single movement and action with the single-minded focus of bringing you to an orgasm just as intense as the ones you’ve given her.  

Your pulse quickens, pulses, and rises, pounding at an elevated, erratic rate as you approach the edge. As you look down and catch one last sight of the beauty giving herself wholly for your pleasure, you do nothing to fight the oncoming storm, instead allowing yourself to tip over the edge into bliss.

The first of your senses to go is sight. Your view of the room goes dark as your head feels light, disconnected from the only part of your body demanding attention.

The next is sound. Any chance you have of hearing the harsh and heavy groans of pleasure reverberating out from your gasping lips is lost, swept up under the current of the sanguine rush pounding in your ears.

Touch spares you no such mercy. Your teeth grit as shockwave after shockwave pulse up your spine and to each and every one of your extremities, turning what would otherwise be an already incredible orgasm into a full-on out-of-body experience.

You remain unmoving, barely keeping upright and at the mercy of the merciless mess before you. Yeonhee refuses to let up even for a moment, oxygen unimportant as she laps at your shaft, gulping down each drop of your cum until she’s drained every ounce of pleasure from you.

Only then, when your sight is barely coming back into focus, do you see her: a single string of saliva connecting the corner of her lips to your cock before breaking off and glistening on her chin. With a coy smirk, Yeonhee wipes it away, making a show of lapping it up off of the back of her hand as her eyes sparkle with sultry satisfaction.

A moment of silence passes between you two, one you’re more than willing to spend admiring the aftermath of your shared desires. Yeonhee’s face is an absolute fucking mess, cheeks flushed with pleasure, lips reddened and swollen, altogether a perfect image of debauched beauty.

There’s something about Yeonhee like this, eyes half-lidded as she awaits her well-deserved praise that kick-starts your heart in a way no one else has even come close to replicating.

“Fucking hell, Yeonhee,” you murmur as you climb into the bed beside her and take her into your arms.

“Wasn’t that fun?” she asks, words light and airy as her eyes sparkle, faux innocence painted on every feature as if she hadn’t nearly sucked out your soul. “Pretty good idea, right?”

“Oh yeah babe, 11/10, no notes,” you respond with a huff, flopping onto your back like a starfish as your eyes close and you take a deep inhale.

The opening notes of your favorite song play as laughter overtakes Yeonhee, sending her into a fit of giggles that leaves you short of breath all over again. A small oof escapes past your lips as she lightly hits your chest, letting out one last bit of playful energy before she snuggles up against your side and wraps her arms around your torso. “The night’s still young, you know. I bet the others haven’t even finished their first round of drinks at the karaoke bar.”

“Oh?” you ask, eyebrow arched even as your eyelids remain firmly shut. “Were you hoping to join them?”

“Of course not. Do you want to be the one who has to explain that you faked an illness just because we were too horny to wait any longer?”

“What do you mean ‘we’? You were the one who just had to play out their filthy fantasy right then and there,” you fire back, opening up your eyes just enough to glare at her.

“I don’t seem to remember you putting up much of a fight,” she responds, shrugging as she looks away to hide her smile.

You opt to let silence be your response because, well, she’s right, but honestly, when you pull her close and feel the way she nuzzles her face into your chest and you catch a whiff of the floral scent of her conditioner, you realize you have higher priorities.

“So.”

“So?”

“Round two?” you ask.

“Wasn’t that round two?” Yeonhee asks, eyebrows scrunching together in deep thought.

“I’d argue that was the second half of part one—evening things out, if you will.”

“I think the pause and change of location means it’s a whole new round.”

“This whole thing started because you pretended my kitchen was a bar and that we were complete strangers. Is this really the time to argue semantics?”

“Actually, yes; I would argue immersion is integral to—”

“Yeonhee.” You cut her off there, interrupting her mid-sentence as you shift your weight atop hers and pin her wrists to the headboard. Your other hand finds a home in her hair once more, twirling those golden locks as you let the silence speak volumes.

“Yes?” she whimpers, eyes wide and breaths heavy.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Another moment passes. Another. Her pulse pounds in your grip, her lips part, her chest heaves, yet you let the silence linger. The air grows tense, making it hard for even you to breathe, but you hold your tongue, patient enough to make her ask, “Why?”

You free your hand from her hair, instead using it to position your cock as you line yourself up with her sopping heat. As you’re about to slip inside her, you lean forward, letting your lips brush against her ear as you whisper, “Because I’m going to make you lose count.”

With that, you push forward into her once more, eliciting another gasp that dies in your mouth as you claim her lips with your own. Her body presses against you, back arching in a truly exquisite display of the pleasure overtaking her. Bit by bit you press onward, breath tight in your chest as you pull away from the kiss and her velvety interior suffocates your cock.

Yeonhee’s breaths come in short, desperate puffs, ragged and scarce as you ruin her further; her teeth find a familiar home in her lower lip as she tries to suppress the signs of satisfaction showing across every inch of her immaculate form, but fails spectacularly.

“More than you bargained for?” you tease, running your thumb over her bruised bottom lip. She opens her mouth obligingly and sucks on your thumb, tongue tickling the pad before moving on to nibble on your knuckle.

“It’s never too much for me,” Yeonhee pants out, words still shaky as she rolls her hips up to meet yours, issuing a further challenge.

“You’re insatiable,” you chuckle. Yeonhee begins to respond, but you silence her once more by capturing her hips in your hands and slamming them down against the bed. You keep her pinned there, perfectly in place for you to achieve your pleasure. Each thrust becomes more insistent, finding a deeper depth inside of her as her hands grasp and claw at your scalp.

Everything feels too close yet not enough—the curve of her body molds against yours, legs clasping around your waist and pulling you ever deeper; she looks at you through tear-stained lashes, eyes unfocused as she tries to keep sight of you. Her fingers weave into your hair and pull, sending tingles of ecstasy and agony into your mind as she clings to her only tether to reality.

Somewhere in the heat of these moments, time fades into irrelevance, seconds slipping past like grains of sand through your fingers. You pin her to the bed, push her up against the headboard, pull her into the shower, bend her over the sink, toss her onto the bed once more, and drown her in the waves of euphoria all over again. Long after the clock ticks forth into a new day, you sink into the silky sheets alongside Yeonhee. You look over and you’re mesmerized by the sight of her, skin shining with the sheen of sweat as she wears your cum as a point of pride.

“Tired yet?” she challenges you, smirking as she trails her delicate fingertips down your chest.

“Fucking exhausted,” you admit, smiling just as wide as her eyes sparkle with mirth. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t go another round if you’re desperate for more.”

“Oh god no, I still need to walk out of here in the morning. Hold me though?”

Yeonhee tries to rest her head against your chest, but you’re quick to pull away and respond, “Go clean up first, you’re a fucking mess.”

“And whose fault is that?” she huffs, crossing her arms in protest.

Your eyes roll, but you sweep her into your arms as you stand, chuckling to yourself as she yelps in surprise and wraps her arms around your neck. “Fine, we go wash up and then we can snuggle as much as you like. Deal?”

“Deal.”

…

…

…

“You're such an idiot, I can't believe you got Yeonhee sick,” Yeoreum huffs from the other side of the phone.

“What do you mean? She seemed fine when she left earli—last night.”

“Really? She's been complaining all day that her throat hurts!”

“O-oh,” you stammer, badly masking your surprise with a cough as your phone dings. “That is … yeah. My bad then, sorry.”

(My most genuine gratitude to @capslocked for their assistance in making this fic far better than it would have been otherwise and for just being significantly more helpful than I could have ever hoped for. I have two other short story ideas in mind that I'll likely try to finish before diving into a mid-length project, after which I think I'm going to try and fully tackle the Saccharine rewrite. As always, thank you so very much for choosing to spend your precious time reading my work, it means everything to me.)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Make You Work

Sequel to Work It Out

Warnings: noncon, body insecurity, minimal editing.

Trainer!Clark Kent x short!chubby!reader; we didn't think this one was gonna happen, did we?

To those who read, I’d love a thot or two of what you think!

You press your back to the lockers. You can’t breath. Your skin speckles in a new sheen of sweat as you stare at the beast before you. The man with his damp curls and flushed cheeks, stone set in his jaw. The flames in his eyes scald you. 

“Clark?” You croak, terrified. 

He moves, too fast for you to react. You cry out, your feet tangling as you throat out your arm and drop your jeans onto the floor. He catches your arm and pulls you back, pinning you to the lockers as he snarls down at you. You brace yourself, whimpering as grabs your other wrist and forces your arms straight above you. You wriggle and flutter your lashes as tears sting in your eyes. 

“Clark, please, what are you doing?” You puff breathlessly. 

“I need you,” he growls as his humid breath fans over you. 

“No--”  

Your voice snags in your throat as his eyes drop down. He looks down at himself and you follow his gaze to the front of his shorts. You see the bulge beneath the dark fabric, twitching as you gasp. You tug on your wrists to no avail as he pushes them together, squeezing them tight as he wraps them in a single hand. 

His other roams down to your shoulder and his fingertips brush up your neck. You squeak as traces the line of you chin and pushes his knuckle against your lips. You stare up at him through welling eyes. You might be flattered if you weren’t so damn scared. 

He drags his hand back down, trailing down your throat and along your chest. His fingers rest over your ragged heartbeat and he tilts his hand to cup you through your bra. You shiver as he gropes you. 

“Please,” you beg in a willowy whisper, a tear riveting down your cheek. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you. There’s a tint to his eyes that makes you doubt he can. He slips his hand around the band of your bra and forces his between you and the metal doors. He pinches and swiftly unhooks the clasp. The fabric slacks and lifts as your tits drop out the bottom. It stays strung across your chest as your arms remain locked in his clutches. 

He brings his touch back to your chest, jiggling each tit, rolling his thumb around your rigid nipples. He purrs and dips his head. You cry out as he takes a bud in his mouth abruptly, his warmth seeping in you. Your sneakers squeak on the floor as you shift helplessly. 

He nips and you babble, more tears flowing as you shake your head. This isn’t happening. He can’t do this. He wouldn’t. Not to you. You’re not... good enough. 

He flicks his tongue around and sends a thrill down your spine. His hand wanders down your stomach and you suck in, conscious of your extra cushion. He tickles along the top of your panties, the one’s he said were so cute only moments before. A compliment you took as a taunt. 

He pushes his fingers flat against you and slips beneath the cotton. You tilt your head up and gnash your teeth, staring up at his grip still firm around your wrists. It isn’t as nice as you once fantasized. All those years when you thought you would die to have a man like him look your way. This just feels... suffocating. 

He grazes along your glossy curls and you squirm. You squeeze your legs together against his touch and he growls against your skin. He teethes you as his breath stains your chest. He nuzzles between your tits as he pokes two fingers between your folds, curling them as he forces them against you. 

Your knees buckles as your hip pangs suddenly. You whimper as the shock that zips up your leg, feet slipping apart as you try not to collapse. You don’t think you actually would, just dangle from his grasp like a puppet. 

He pushes further, his hand lodging between your thighs as he feels along your cunt. He drags his fingertips back and forth, rubbing you as your insides coil. A slick layer coats your lips, smearing around as lifts his head higher, burying it in the crook of your neck as he prods around your entrance. 

He drags his fingertips back and toys with your clit, flicking, swirling, swiping, teasing until your puffing wildly up at the ceiling. Your lip trembles as your chest burns. The sensations meld into a store of horror and delight. 

He snarls and bites into the tendon of your neck, pinching as the tension builds inside of you. Your thighs strain shake as you arch your back. A whine rises from your throat as sparks scatter through you and orgasm rents right up your middle. Your stomach muscles knots and your eyes roll back. 

It’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t and won’t stop him. 

He pants against you, in time with you, as if he could feel the same release. He unlatches his mouth from you and raises himself up. He looks down at you and jerks you forward away from the lockers. You yelp as pout helplessly. His eyes creep up and down your body as he slips his hand free of your panties. 

He spins you suddenly, releasing your arms as you exclaim and flail towards the bench. You catch yourself on the metal, bent over and breathless as he closes you in from behind. He grabs your hips and you try to stand. He grips the back of your neck and holds you down, your ass up as he presses his crotch against you. 

He rocks his hips, simulating his intent as he grunts. His fingers crawl around your waistline and he rips the elastic down your ass. You yipe and squirm as the fabric falls just above your knees. He kicks your feet further part as he squeezes your neck till it tweaks. 

He feels along the front of his shorts and yanks them down. You fill him spring out against your ass, the rigid flesh rubbing between your cheeks. Your knees touch the bench and you lean forward, only for him to pinch your neck tighter. You relent as he guides his tip along the curve of your ass. 

You close your eyes and grit your teeth. Your hang your head as he bends his knees. He rubs himself against your folds, pausing to push against your entrance, before repeating the motion. Down, up, down, up, then he stops, poking until you feel your cunt stretching around his tip. 

He splits you in half slowly. That’s what it feels like. He rocks patiently, inch by inch, dipping deeper and deeper. The hot invasion has you moaning and mewling as your head lolls back and forth. His hand slides to your shoulder and his fingers curl into the muscle there. 

He leans into you until you’re on your toes. You whine as his pelvis presses to your ass. He wiggles as he buries himself completely in your taut walls. He groans and holds himself there. 

He exhales as he pulls back and your insides clench. As he slides back in you whimper. How do you feel even more full then before. 

He grabs your hip and pulls your ass higher as he thrusts again. Still slow, still patient. His deep groans drone through the air.  

His hand drifts down your back as his rhythm slowly builds. He brings it to your other hip, holding you in place as he rolls his hips against your ass. He growls and bucks harder, jolting you as you cry out. Your shoulders wrack as his nails dig into your flesh. 

He snaps his pelvis again. You mewl and he lifts your feet off the ground, holding you just off it as your bodies clop together. He rams into you, harder, deeper, furiously battering you as he loses all control. You keep your hands on the bench, dangling helplessly as he uses you. 

He slides his hand away from your hop and hooks his arm across your stomach. He pulls you up flush to him and your head falls against his shoulder. He clings to you, keeping you hovering as he ruts wildly, puffing over you as he bounces you against him. 

“You’re so sexy,” he snarls, “can’t you feel it?” 

He pounds harder and harder as your voice fizzles out and you reach back to latch onto his thick shoulder. His fucks you furiously as you bite down on your tongue, spasming. You cum again, even less ready for it than before.  

He turns and pushes you against the lockers. He crushes you as he jerks his hips up, over and over, grunting and growl as his hand runs up to knead your chest. He presses the tip of his nose to your grown and groans as he quakes. You feel him cum inside of you, fucking it into you until he’s whimpering. 

He stills, urging himself as deep as he can go. You gurgle and press a shaky hand to the metal. He lifts his head and kisses the top of your head. Slowly, he lowers you to the floor and slides out of you. A gush spills down your thigh as only your gasping breaths meet your ears. 

You lean, trembling, on the lockers and stiffly roll to face him. Your panties droop to your ankles as he pulls his shorts up. He cracks his neck, one way then the other, and shakes out his arms. He blows out a sigh and pushes back his curls. He smirks at you as his blue eyes glint. 

“Good work out,” he chuckles as he wipes his forehead, “don’t forget to stretch.” 

He spins on his heel, whistling as he struts away. You stare after him, stunned, and slide slowly down to your ass as your knees finally give out. You bow your head and reach under you, feeling along your swollen lips as you flinch.  

You feel empty and torn. You snatch your hand away and mop the tears from your damp cheeks. You didn’t even realise you were still crying. You fix your bra and reach back to hook it in place. Every muscle in your body hurts. 

You put your hand down and lean forward, groaning as you lift yourself to hands and knees. You crawl to grab your jeans the shift towards the bench. You grab it and push, forcing your feet under you, one then the other. 

You stand, swaying, and shake out your pants. It takes you several tries to step into them.  

When you finally get them buttoned, you pull on your jersey shirt then the zip-up you wore over it. You zip up your gym bag with your phone inside and ball up your gym clothes. You care them to the bin by the door and waver at the threshold. You drop them into the garbage and make yourself leave. 

You stumble through the gym, looking straight and no where else. Is he there? Is he watching? Will he follow you again? 

You walk faster and faster, unsteady and clumsy as you rush towards the stairs. Your fear bubbles up with the humiliation. You don’t let it boil over it, fighting desperately to outpace it as you clamour down the flights. 

You’re never going back. Never, never again. You tried working out. It’s not for you. 

[bauhaus-bae]

Those Fucking Eyes

Based off Crazy bitch-Buck cherry

Daryl Dixon was a total sweetheart, to an extent.

When it was for you, he would do anything and everything. If it came down to it, he would die for you.

So of course it baffled you to your core when you saw the way he was looking at Leah on the other side of the fire. Who has the audacity to do right in front of your face? Leah Shaw that’s who.

Now, you were usually a very calm, composed and understanding individual but this, this threw you over the edge. All month Leah had been trying so desperately to get your man’s attention and you weren’t having it.

You push the woman off the stool she was setting on grabbing her by the jacket collar slamming her head into the dirt. “You stupid whore!” Before you could do any real damage Daryl grabbed you off Leah pushing you in front of him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” You glare angrily at the two who were minutes away from practically face fucking one another. He looks back and forth between you and Leah extremely confused. “I don’t know what you mean?”

You roll your eyes grabbing Daryl before turning back to glare at Leah “I’ll be back for you bitch.” She throws her hands up as a way of saying she surrenders before stepping away.

“Woah now, what’s wrong with you?” Is he for real? I’m gonna jump this man’s bones at any minute. “You know Daryl, you’re a very sweet man..” he looks confused as he urges you to continue “sometimes a little too sweet.” He just remains confused, shaking his head “I really don’t know what you mean.”

Of course he doesn’t “It’s always such a problem when I’m with Noah” I state slowly reaching my hands towards his chest “or Rick, even Glenn but, you’re allowed to give Leah Shaw those fucking eyes.” He frowns pushing your fallen hair behind your ear “What’s goin on in that pretty little head of yours, hmm?” You grab his neck pulling him closer to you “The way you look at her, how you look at me. I don’t like it.” He smirks rubbing his hands up and down your arms slowly leaning in for a kiss “You absolutely do not have to worry about her. I only have eyes for one pretty lady.” He swiftly switches your positions leaning you onto the wall. It was your turn to look away blushing like a mess. “Yea, I get it.” You stutter out.

But did you really think he’d let you get away with that? Absolutely not. After all, he doesn’t like to be accused of things.

“You are one crazy bitch and you’re mine. Don’t forget it.”

Tag list:

(Lmk if you wanna be on it!)

@zaddy1864

[joeyalohadream]

I’m gonna say “cold” for the WIP word guessing game 🤭

Send me a word, any word, and if it’s in my WIP I’ll answer your ask with the sentence or line it appears in.

Are you hoping for a Cooler Fic part 3 snippet with that word choice? Lol

If so, you're in luck!

“Hey, c’mere,” Bucky softens his gaze, forcing the fear of what’s coming next off of his face. Gale’s still watching the guards, eyes sweeping from one to the next before lingering on the doorway that more no doubt are roaming behind. “Buck, c’mere.” Gale’s head dips for a moment and then Bucky is the focus of those tired blue eyes. Bucky’s throat tightens and there's an uncomfortable stitch in his chest that makes him have to think about actively taking his next breath.  He lifts his arm and Gale only hesitates for the second it takes to scan the room and see that all of the other men are huddling together to try to find a fraction of warmth. He slides the remaining inches, hands planted on the grimy factory floor to drag his tired body over to Bucky.  When Bucky feels the warmth of him under his shoulder, he lowers his arm and pulls Gale as close as he can. Gale’s posture stays tense and he lifts his head and cranes his neck, looking at that open doorway again.  “I gotcha, Buck,” he whispers into his hair, warm breath melting the ice still stubbornly clinging to the long strands. Anger simmers under the surface of his skin, wanting an outlet. He stepped over a guard today, cold and dead on the road. Left behind like he’d never leave Gale. He could get away with it. They wouldn’t miss one more, wouldn’t even notice he was gone. He’s willing to die for Gale, he’s more than willing to kill for him too. “Try to get some rest, I’m here. You’re safe.”  He tightens his arm, brings his other around to try to rub some warmth back into the smaller man, even though he doesn’t have any left to give.  “Don’t leave,” Gale mumbles into the folds of his coat, head finally coming to rest on his chest. “Stay.” Exhaustion and pain paint his words, his movements. He can’t take much more of this. None of them can. “I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Bucky soothes, closing his eyes against the heat he feels building in them. “Just relax. You did so good today, Gale. I’m so proud of you.”  Gale’s breathing hitches a bit, but he folds himself impossibly closer and Bucky feels him relax against his side, tension leaking out as sleep comes for him.  Bucky turns his head and watches the doorway.

[sytoran]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍' 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘 ⌇ wanda maximoff

summary: wanda maximoff is practically unreachable, far out of your league. or at least, that's what you thought until that friday night at tony stark's party.

☰ PAIRING: sub!wanda x dom!gn!reader

☰ TAGS: college!au, smut (18+), oral sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, rough sex, lingerie, squirting, begging, drunk sex, rough oral sex, so much oral sex, you're ravenous but who wouldn't be

this is part one of a two-part fic. here's part 2. | masterlist

it was another one of those frat parties thrown by tony stark. though he was an arrogant asshole of a college student, he sure knew how to have fun.

with flashing lights blinding you, some mainstream pop song making your eardrums bleed, and the scent of alcohol invading your every sense, it felt like the epitome of a friday night.

shameless, that’s what your college friends were. some were going at it on the couch, shoving their tongues down each others’ throats; some were laughing loudly while playing truth or dare, except that both truth or dare would end up in raunchy positions or sloppy make-out sessions.

well, for you, you weren’t quite that drunk. slightly tipsy, maybe, but definitely sober enough to think straight and make logical decisions.

however, logic didn’t quite apply when it came to wanda maximoff.

she was unreachable, in every sense of matter. gorgeously breathtaking, but far too out of your league. at least, that’s what you thought until now.

“you’re not gonna drink?” a sultry voice captured your attention.

you turned around slowly, feeling a hand trailing over the expanse of your shoulder blade and down to tug at your collar. your eyes traveled down to meet hers, throat drying up almost immediately.

oh fuck.

it was wanda maximoff, in all her divine beauty. a figure-hugging blood-red dress hung onto her curves in the sexiest way imaginable, tight against her ample chest. but you weren’t the only feasting on the sight for what it was worth: she herself had eyes trailing all over you, much less shy in letting her hands wander.

she was holding a glass of red wine in one hand, bringing it to her lips as you watched, in a trance.

“i don’t plan on drinking too much,” you murmured softly as you pulled the redhead closer, hands on her hips. she seemed to enjoy that, a coy smirk painting her pretty face.

“why? too afraid to let loose, are you?” she teased, a hand now on your chest.

“i don’t think so,” you breathed, taking the glass from her hands and taking a sip for yourself. “just don’t wanna make a bad decision. is that wrong, maximoff?”

you watched as her pupils dilated at your actions. you were both now impossibly close, but yet so far apart. she let you touch no more than her hips, keeping your hands at bay. your foreheads were almost touching, being able to hear each others’ breathing. you swore she would be able to hear your pounding heartbeat.

“no,” she answered finally, taking a long swig of that glass. “but i think it would be wrong, if you didn’t fuck me stupid right here.”

shit, i’m gonna die tonight.

just as she was about to pounce on you, you snatched the glass away from her hands and tilted her head up.

“drink up, baby,” the words left your lips in a near whisper, pouring the liquid into her awaiting mouth. she somehow managed to remain eye-contact during the whole procedure, doe-like eyes wide yet challenging, and you felt wetness pool in southern regions.

a drop of red wine escaped her mouth, dripping down her mouth and to her collarbone, and you were more than ready to lap it all right up. she groaned, fingers grasping at your hair as you moved to suckle at her neck, tasting the alcohol right off her very skin.

wanda’s skin was burning, and you were sure the same was happening for you. “please,” an honest-to-god whimper left her lips, and you were damn sure you chest vibrated with a low growl escaping your mouth.

and then your hands were everywhere, all over her, as she kissed you for what the universe was worth. you could taste the goddamn wine in her mouth, hands moving to grip at her ass.

she moaned into the kiss, hips moving to grind against your thigh, pressing herself as close as possible. your dug your short nails into her hip as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head to gain better access to her pretty mouth.

“u-ungh-upstairs,” she groaned in between a kiss, a pant sounding in your ears.

words were left unspoken as you tapped on her thigh as a signal to let her jump up and wrap her legs around your torso. you easily held her up while continuing the feisty kiss, making it up the stairs to the many bedrooms stark had.

though many were occupied with others carrying out the same activities as you, many were also left unoccupied. you walked into one of them, kicking the door shut with your foot and letting her fall onto the bed.

with her arms wrapped around your neck, wanda finally ended the kiss, nevertheless keeping you in close proximity. you were laying on top of her, effectively pinning her down with your leg on each side of her lithe figure.

her eyes were swirling with a haze of lust, tongue coming out to dart at her lips. your heavy breaths sounded around the room. you reached out to swipe a thumb against her tantalizing lips, before she caught your finger between her lips and began slowly sucking.

you nearly lost your mind then, watching the wanda maximoff putting a show just for you.

“maximoff, you’re driving me insane,” you breathed, watching your fingers disappear inside her mouth. she smiled sweetly against your hand, then slowly removing your fingers with a string of saliva connecting them.

“i know,” she said simply, before guiding your hand up her little dress. you fought back a suppressed moan when you felt the sheer wetness of her dripping sex through her panties. “fuck me, please,” she whispered, eyes meeting your own.

a hand of yours went to harshly unzip the back of dress, nearly ripping the garment off her. she laughed breathily at your eagerness, before it became a loud moan when you began massaging her tits.

you swallowed at the sight of her black lace lingerie, wondering if she had already known her eyes were set on you before coming to this party. well, you sure as hell weren’t complaining.

your hand reached underneath her to unclasp the bra, as it fell off to expose her pretty tits. unable to wait any longer, you attached your mouth to a hardened nipple. her nipples felt like ruby, and you used your other hand to pluck at the other.

her whimpers and whines escalated into unashamedly loud moans when you were playing with her gorgeous tits, trying to fit the entire thing in your mouth. you switched sides soon after, making sure both tits were paid its due attention.

“y/n,” she gasped, back arching up when you twisted one of her nips were rough fingers. “need you down there, please. p-please.”

your chest rumbled at her neediness, pinning her down even harder to prevent her squirming. “need me down where, darlin’?”

she shook her head, a light flush covering her cheeks at the embarrassment of how badly she needed you. or maybe it was because you were still playing with her tits to your heart’s content.

“use your words, sweetheart,” you said, gentle enough but a hint of harshness behind it that she dared not to disobey.

“my pussy,” she finally managed to gasp out. “need you inside.”

“good girl.”

you finally gave her what she wanted, ripping off her panties with your teeth in a swift motion, to which she moaned at. you were greeted the sight of her dripping sex, all wet and throbbing with her clit swollen.

“fuck,” you groaned, placing kisses all over her thighs. “you’re so pretty.”

before wanda could even manage a response, you dived in, burying your head between her thighs. you lapped at her nectar, taking up every single drop that escaped. your name fell from her lips like a chant, toes curling as her legs tightened around your back.

she tasted divine. absolutely divine, sweet but in the best way possible, better than any dessert you’d ever tasted. you couldn’t get enough of it. lapping and sucking and the occasional biting at careful spots left her a bumbling mess, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

your tongue delved between her folds and latched onto her clitoris, sucking on it as wanda screamed. her hands were digging into your shoulder blades, and you were sure she was drawing blood.

the filth that fell from both your lips echoed around the room, and into the hallways. “m’ gonna cum,” she cried, needy whines escaping from her. “m’ gonna cum.”

“you won’t,” you responded with roughness, wanting to prolong her pleasure, slapping her thigh as she cried out again.

“need to! please, please, please,” she begged, tears forming in her eyes as you didn’t stop your devilish ministrations, breathing in all of her.

just as she thought she had seen the end of it, you entered your tongue into her sopping pussy, thrusting in and out of it with vigor. you didn’t show any mercy, you couldn’t physically get enough of wanda maximoff.

“let go for me, sweet girl.”

she screamed again as she saw white, transported into a higher plane of existence, spurts of her white cream lapped all up by your awaiting mouth.

instead of letting her ride out her orgasm, her first had only spurred you on further. despite her cries and screams and sensitivity, you spread her legs open wider and pushed your tongue in deeper than wanda physically thought was possible.

if this night was one in a million, fucking the one and only wanda maximoff, you knew damn well you would make it one she would never forget.

you wanted to be the one she thought of when she touched herself under the sheets, when she was in the shower and wishing her fingers were yours, during every second and hour of the day. hell, you wanted her to come up to your dorm room with lust in her eyes and only one thing on her mind.

soon enough, you were brought back to the present.

it wasn’t long till she was brought to her next climax, and this time you slowed down your pace. though it took a lesser amount of time, wanda’s second orgasm was as passionate as the first, squirting all over your face still between her thighs.

after a few minutes of getting down from her high, she looked down at you between her legs, your face covered in her juices. she was panting heavily, her face crimson red and a sheen of sweat covering her pale skin. her hair was all tousled up, messy but hot, and you slowly stood up.

“d-don’t go,” she whispered, voice hoarse, trying to grab out to you.

“who said i was going?” you asked, innocently cocking your head to the side. you unbuckled your belt, letting your dark pants pool on the ground to expose the underlying appendage. wanda’s mouth physically watered at the sight of the ivory strap.

“the night is still young, maximoff.”

if you liked this, here's part 2 | masterlist

if wanda maximoff was a drug i would be an addict

[weirdsht]

Hello! Good morning lol. I hope you're doing well :₱ i gotta say ur writing is good and addicting. I keep coming back it's eating me alive

I have a thought abt ur recent yan!cale post :₱

What if Cale actually got sum magical jewelry on the reader that prevents their risky, suic1d∆l powers from working? The reader realizes it's basically stuck to them and is unable to take it off, remaining stuck unless someone powerful in magic, like Eruhaben, removes it personally. They feel off about it at first, though they eventually accept it because it was Cale who really wanted it on them, and they believe that he's someone who wants nothing but the safety of his loved ones. But then---

Reader gets kidnapped, gets harmed in the worst way possible-

Lol sorry, idk why but yandere cale is so-

😆💞

Blood-Red Garnet - Yan!Cale/Reader

notes: my visualization for the bracelet

tags: gender-neutral reader, yandere cale, torture and injuries (nothing too graphic), hints of possessiveness, hints of unhealthy relationship and dependency but reader doesn't realise it

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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A shiny gold bracelet with a piece of blood-red jewel in the middle was dangled in [name]’s face by Cale. It was a gift, or so he says. Told the ability user that it’s both an accessory and a preventative measure.

“Preventative measure? For what?”

“For your abilities. I don’t want you dying on me because of your reckless power.”

[Name] wore the bracelet even though they were hesitant at first. Their ability was their primary way of fighting. However, Cale was right. That ability is too dangerous. Plus, they still know how to wield a sword and fight hand-to-hand combats so they should be fine.

“By the way you can only use your abilities if I allow it or if a dragon dispels the magic on that thing.”

Right..?

Apparently not.

[Name] desperately stares at the three pieces of garnet in their bracelet. As if it would magically come off if they stared at it hard enough.

When the ability user first got the bracelet they were happy whenever they looked at the garnet it holds. The colour reminds them of Cale’s hair. Reminds them that the young master gifted it to them because he was concerned for their well-being.

However, now the jewel brings them frustration. The enchantment was placed on those three small circles. If only [name] can remove them.

Then maybe they won’t be subjected to this torture anymore.

“Your beloved commander won't save you. Just tell us where he is right now and whether or not his unconscious. We’ll let you have a quick death once you do.”

“If I’m gonna die either way then I’ll gladly keep everything to my– AHHH!”

[Name]’s words got cut off as another one of their fingers was broken by the torturer interrogating them.

“Are you sure you can take more of this? I can still break your toes if you’re so adamant.”

The torturer mocked them. Gently caressing his fingers over their feet before looking back again at their messed-up fingers.

[Name] merely laughs. They might be beaten up and have no way of fighting as their ability is suppressed, but they won’t say anything. Not now, not ever.

“Torture me all you– keugh! All you want. You won’t get an ounce of information from me.”

Despite being beaten up and coughing up blood, the ability user still had a smile on their face. A mocking smile that seems to rival their torturer’s mocking tone earlier.

The torturer’s face contorts in anger. He looked as if his ready to kill the ability user. Honestly, [name] thinks that would be better. They were getting tired too, they didn’t know how much more pain they could take.

Craaaaack! Psshhh

Just about when the torturer was raising a sword to inflict more pain on [name], a red thunderbolt suddenly fried the man. He was thoroughly burned to a crisp, almost like chicken deep fried in oil.

It was so strong that everyone within the vicinity could feel the anger of those thunderbolts.

And [name] didn’t need to see where it came from to know that it was Cale who did that.

“[Name]! We’re here to rescue you! I’m sorry for being late, I’m sure Saint Jack can heal you…”

Raon spoke in their head while supporting their back. His voice sounded as if he was crying. [Name] could also feel their back becoming wet.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine”

The ability user comforted the toddler. They want to pet him but it’s impossible due to the state of their hands. Raon nodded, his cheeks squishing on [name]’s back. Once he regained his composure he used flight magic on them so they could get out of the cell.

Crash! Bang! Tak!

Outside was chaotic. At the centre of that chaos was Cale and all of his ancient powers running rampant. His face was contorted in something that can only be described as fury. All their other friends had to keep their distance because it almost looked as if the redhead was not in the right state of mind.

“The human has been like that ever since you got kidnapped! I don’t think I’ve seen him that angry.”

Raon tattled as they went closer to Cale. Despite looking like his out of his mind he had enough sanity left to create a path for [name] and Raon.

Cale’s face softened for a moment when he was face to face with [name]. However, it didn’t last long once he saw their state. There’s blood flowing out of their mouth. Wounds of varying degrees littered across their body. Not to mention the absolute wreck of a state their hands are in.

“I’ll be fine.”

[Name] tried to assure Cale who was stroking their cheek. But he isn’t having it. He could see how the ability user is using every fibre of their being to not wince. Probably so that Raon won’t cry anymore.

“Yes, you’ll be fine.”

Cale will make sure of it.

But for now, he must take care of these lowlifes that dare touch what’s his.

“Sleep. When you wake up we’ll be back home.”

Following Cale’s words, [name] closed their eyes. Succumbing to sleep as if the chaos happening behind them didn’t exist.

“Raon, Saint Jack is down there with Rosalyn. Tell him to make sure not a single scar will remain on [name]’s body.”

His negligence already allowed someone else to take his [name], he’ll be damned if he allows another man’s mark to linger on their body.

“Once we get home let’s ask Eruhaben-nim to put some defensive spell in that bracelet.”

“Let’s do that human! We’ll be going now! Be careful, I know you’re angry but you can’t cough blood!”

With that, the toddler used his magic to [name] to where Jack is. Leaving Cale to run wild.

Best to say that no enemy got out of that place alive after Cale was done with them.

[rpmemes-galore]

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals ... sentence starters

"What an ass!"

"Join us and die."

"Should we kill him?"

"Death isn't optional."

"What's in your soul?"

"Show me those hands."

"Did you hear the word?"

"No, I need you to want!"

"(name), you piece of shit."

"You'd better shape on up."

"Let go of this grip on me."

"I'm not your girl anymore."

"I'm still the man you trust."

"God, we were young once."

"Sorry, I don’t have anything."

"Why does it hurt to love you?"

"I used to want to kill them all."

"All the world is paved in gold."

"Tell me what you desire to see."

"Got myself a new perspective."

"You gotta believe in something."

"It's worse than you could imagine."

"I love you, too, but I can't let you go!"

"A man so vague just can't be trusted."

"I really don't wanna die alone in here."

"Is my integrity worth anything at all?"

"Look at the fun we're having already!"

"You've just got to give up your choice."

"There's only room for right and wrong."

"Ma'am, I need you to take a step back."

"The time for chaos is long past overdue."

"You tied up my heart. You tied me down."

"I'm losing my last remaining hope for us."

"Time to swoon at his leading man essence."

"Check your mirror, you'll find hell has arrived."

"Isn’t that worth a show-stopping fiesta, yeah?"

"I'm looking for someone with strong ambition."

"I want you to hear this, if you leave, you're fired."

"Time to say our goodbyes at the end of the road."

"Here's how it’s gonna go: we're gonna kick your ass."

"I'm gonna go get some coffee, do you want anything?"

"Oh fuck, I'm fading fast, I think you better come quick."

"Will you ever forgive me? I'll crawl on my hands and knees."

"Well, then how's anyone supposed to sympathize with you?"

"The greatest stories ever told have a hero who must be bold."

"What have I done? What have I done? Oh, what have I done?"

"No! Get away from me! You’re not (name), you're one of them!"

"What's that one concrete goal that motivates all your actions?"

"Yes, everything's fine, I promise. I just wanted to tell you something."

"You left me out of your sight for one second, and look what happens."

"Uh, what's going on here?! I'm very confused and concerned by all this…"

"I don't know, I want what anyone wants? Money, a partner? Kids, someday, maybe?"

[icycoldninja]

I’m feeling angsty today so I came up with the idea.

Can you write the DMC men when they’ve been in a relationship with the reader for a relatively long time and they thought that they’ve been truthful to one and another and understand their flaws and uniqueness but one night, while in bed, the reader mutter under her breath:

“ You’re too good for me, how? And why? To be loved and desired…is one’s closest feeling to being immortal in this vast universe yet…why me? Of all those out there?”

She muttered as she thought they were still sleeping, but in fact they’re listening very carefully what she says, the quiver in her voice and the cracked tone of one’s suspension of crying

Then they turned to ask her why she thought she didn’t deserve to be loved, she kinda replies that it feels wrong to be loved and feels wrong to love someone knowing you can’t return the gesture how you want due to wither their financial limitations or emotional limitations, even though one should never be deprived of such feelings disregard of race, gender and class

Then she muttered that:

“If anything were to happen to me, you need to move on, forget about me, fall in love with others and treat them like how you treated me and start a family with them, okay?”

“You should not bind yourself in the past for my sake…even though it pains me to see you with others…but to not let you move on would be my biggest guilt”

How would they initially react?

This one's gonna be a bit different since they're more like reaction headcannons than anything else. Enjoy.

Sparda boys + V reactions headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante cannot believe you just said that. He's shocked, genuinely, undeniably shocked.

-He loves you because you're an awesome, sweet person who dared to get close to him despite all his issues and emotional baggage; someone who stuck with him through his crazy highs and depressed lows, and he'll forever be grateful for that.

-Then he hears you yammering on about how you want him to move on if something happened to you, and wonders if you've gotten amnesia.

-What kind of monster do you think he is?! He could never get over you even if he tried, and besides, with him around, nothing bad could possibly happen to you.

-That's it, Dante can't stay silent any longer. He decides to wake from his pretend slumber like Dracula and tell you all this straight to your face.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil, the ever alert insomniac, heard every word you said and was quite upset about it.

-He chose you because you had the strength to stand before a son of Sparda and not quaver in your boots. You accepted him for what he was, and loved all of him equally, from Urizen to V.

-He was insulted by the next string of blasphemous words that left your mouth. How dare you suggest that he, the King of Motivation, would allow you to get hurt? Did you really have such little faith in him?

-He would not let you die--he would sooner kick the bucket than let you meet your demise, and even if you did pass away by some unfortunate turn of events, Vergil would never get over it.

-He could see it even now, how he'd lay his remaining human half to rest alongside your corpse, fully embracing the demon within him and going on to conquer the world, disregarding his brother and all that you'd built together.

-Vergil probably should have told you this, since the only reason you were saying such depressing words was because you needed comfort, but decided to keep silent. After all, he wasn't supposed to hear what you said, so he'll pretend he didn't. However, he will snuggle up to you so you can at least feel the comforting warmth of his presence.

□ Nero □

-Nero was awakened by your mumbling and managed to catch most of what you said. It took him some time to process everything since his brain was foggy, but once he understood what you meant, his heart broke.

-Why is that even a question? Why do you sound like you're about to cry? Are you considering leaving him? Are you terminally ill? What would make you say such a thing?

-Nero loves you because you're sweet and you care for him in ways no one else can. You're ready to die to protect him, and so is he--no one else could replace you.

-How dare you ask him to move on if something happened to you? He loved you, and only you! If you died, Nero would be inconsolable, he'd probably fall into a deep, deep depression and overdose on painkillers or something, but this is all speculation.

-Nero would sacrifice anything and everything if it meant keeping you safe, do you should have nothing to fear.

-Nero knew the only reason you were mumbling such things was because you thought he was asleep, meaning you intended for these words to be kept private. As much as he wanted to keep that illusion alive for your sake, he couldn't let you say these things and go to sleep thinking so negatively. Thus, he arose from slumber and pulled you into his arms, repeatedly reminding you of how much he loved and needed you until you fell asleep.

● V ●

-V happened to flutter awake at the exact moment you began your nocturnal lament, mumbling about how you didn't deserve him, or something like that.

-V was taken aback, wondering why you would even think that when it was clear he was the one who didn't deserve you.

-Then you started muttering about how you wished he would move on, forget about you, and start a new life if anything was to happen to you. This made V's heart shatter.

-He could believe you would say that; you were the love of his life, the one woman who cared enough to stay with such a weak, physically pathetic, borderline invalid for so long and enjoy the experience. You'd left a lasting imprint on him, one that he wouldn't forget anytime soon.

-The very fact that you'd suggest such a thing was not only heartbreaking but also insulting. V wouldn't let you continue thinking like this any longer.

-He got up and immediately wrapped you in the tightest hug he could muster, whispering sweet words of affirmation into your ear until you broke down in tears, then covering you with kisses till you calm down.

[beom-pyu]

my wips! ★⋆⁺˚⋆｡ °₊*️

see what's coming soon:

(more under the cut!)

I CAN'T SWIM, IDIOT (choi beomgyu x fem!reader) POSTED.

SYNOPSIS:

your best friend just so happens to enter you both into a married-couple-greece-resort-stay-all-expenses-paid giveaway hosted by some random insurance company he found on twitter. but those things are always scams—there's no way you'd end up having to pretend to be beomgyu's wife for one week in a foreign country. and there's absolutely no way you'd end up seeing your childhood best friend in a different light after your stay. nope—not a chance.

RESET (kang taehyun x fem!reader)

coworkers to lovers, rivals to lovers, fluff, comedy, smut

SYNOPSIS:

working as a game developer has been your dream for years. you fought long and hard to work your way up to the top, and you've finally secured a stable, well-paying position at one of the lead gaming companies in the country. things are going well—until your head hires a new programmer to work alongside you for a new campaign. while you are excited to see fresh faces in the office, a problem quickly arises—you can't seem to get along with your counterpart. his know-it-all attitude rubs you the wrong way from the very beginning, and each day, you find it harder and harder to get anything done when he's over your shoulder, critiquing your every move. you don't know how much longer you can put up with his nagging until you downright lose your mind... and maybe your job as well.

(current word count: 3.24k)

TEASER:

“um, hello! nice to meet you. i’m y/n y/l/n, lead character designer,” you introduce yourself with a small bow, looking up to see taehyun smiling at you with those pretty wide eyes.

“i specialize in character design as well. i guess we’ll be working side by side this year,” taehyun shoots you with a blinding grin. your heart stutters a bit at his unwavering eye contact, nodding with a small smile.

“i guess so. you sure you can keep up, though?” you playfully flirt towards him, a low and quiet ‘ooooo’ coming from soobin and yeonjun on either side of you. taehyun remains unfazed at your comment, shrugging slightly at your words with raised brows.

“i’d like to believe so. i’m looking forward to seeing what you got, y/l/n.”

you smile a bit, your gaze unbreaking with his cat eyes.

“likewise, kang.”

END CREDITS (choi yeonjun x fem!reader)

underground boxer au, exes to lovers, heavy angst, fluff, smut

SYNOPSIS:

yeonjun feels as if he's stuck in a loop. every day is the same, boring, painful drag—work, fight club, dinner for ma, and repeat. he's completely numb to everyone and everything around him. why shouldn't he be? the only person he's staying alive for is his mother—if he were to die today, earth would continue to spin without a second thought. that is, until you pop back up into his life—and now everything he knows is flipped onto its head. you left him because of the way he is... so why are you staying this time?

(current word count: 4.6k)

TEASER:

“i think i’m just gonna head home. ma is probably waiting for me.” yeonjun forces a small, strained smile towards beomgyu, watching as the younger’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“you are so lame,” beomgyu huffs, pushing yeonjun’s shoulder lightly. “dude, just come celebrate with us tonight. i swear i won’t ever ask you again.”

yeonjun shakes his head, shrugging on his gray zip-up before turning back around to walk out of the locker room, beomgyu still hot on his heels. “don’t feel like it, beomgyu. just drop it.”

beomgyu chases after yeonjun as he walks back into the crowded arena, shoving his way through all of the sweaty bodies as another fight starts up.

“you’re the most boring person i’ve ever met,” beomgyu shouts.

“and you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met,” yeonjun shouts back, not even bothering to turn around and face the younger.

to be added:

rockstar!yeonjun x lead singer!reader - exes to lovers

farm boy!taehyun x city girl!reader - strangers to lovers

soon-to-be-married!soobin x wedding planner!reader - exes to lovers

[cultofdixon]

Protective of One Another

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The Saviors war ended, and everyone has been doing their part to rebuild the communities. A project being the bridge. You have been assigned to watch those building the bridge and help where you can. You just didn’t expect to end up in the infirmary • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Anxiety / PTSD

Requested by: Anon

“Hey, you coming to work on the bridge?” Aaron asks Daryl who was preoccupied with sharpening his knife.

“Nah. Why?”

“Eh just thought I’d ask…” Aaron started to walk away from the tent the archer was currently occupying. “Y/N will be there”

Aaron now with a satisfied smile on his face worked beside Daryl who was hammering away at a panel they just placed while Y/N walked past them every now and then.

“Bitch”

“Hey it got you to work today. At least I didn’t lie”

“Mm. Fair” Daryl scoffs looking up for a moment seeing Y/N talking to Rick about the progression of the bridge they were working on.

________

“You sure can hold your own”

Y/N turns toward Daryl after setting another Walker on the pile with T-Dog’s help.

“Yeah…okay” Y/N brushes her hands off on her blue camo pants seeing that he was still standing there. “Yea need somethin’ Daryl?”

“How come you know my name but I don’t know yours?”

“First, it’s Y/N. Second, you’re not a very social person. Or you weren’t until that Grimes guy came and told yea he ditched your brother on a roof”

“Mm. Fair I guess” Daryl frowns watching Y/N step over one of the dead’s legs and extending her hand out to him.

“It is nice to finally meet you though”

“What’s with the blue camo?” He asks while shaking her hand as she laughs slightly.

“Navy. Blue is for the navy. I had just gotten home from discharge when the outbreak happened”

“Then I guess you weren’t part of the dumbasses that kept the virus under wraps until it started killin’”

“Oh I would’ve deserted and told the whole world if it meant this outbreak not happening”

“Wouldn’t have met yea though”

“Already liking me, D?” Y/N teased before going to help T-Dog with the rest leaving Daryl a bit of a blushing mess.

________

“You’re crazy yknow”

Daryl turns to the beautiful voice that matches the woman he’s been pining for for years as Y/N held up a canteen.

“Crazy for what?”

“Wearing all black in Virginia air. Or at least all dark clothes” Y/N gestured to his outfit before crossing her arms and still having that gorgeous smile remain. “What am I gonna do with yea, Dixon?”

“Beat my ass if I pass out from heat stroke” Daryl jokes getting that laugh of hers to roar out of her. “You’ll never see me in shorts”

“I would pay good money to see that one day” Y/N laughs a little more. “Shorts are great” she gestured to her own dark blue denim shorts as it wasn’t the only thing Daryl looked at. She was wearing a black tank top and red flannel over it with the sleeves rolled up, very different from her old Navy camo pants and the long sleeve when they first met up until the farm. But she always had the signature combat boots, something from her past that she won’t get rid of.

“On others maybe” He makes one last comment on the shorts listening to her laugh die down a bit before patting him on the shoulder.

“Least you can do is go inside one of the tents in the shady forest to cool a bit with that canteen.”

“Yea ain’t the boss of me, woman” He smirks watching her glare playfully.

“Last I checked. I was assigned to oversee those working on the bridge today…so the least you can do…is follow my orders” Y/N smirks getting up in his space as the archer covers his ears to avoid the blush rising.

“Yes ma’am” Daryl states watching her go back to working.

As he made his way back to the little tent city they have up for those working on the bridge, Carol immediately got up from her tent with a smile on her face.

“Hey buddy”

“Buddy?” Daryl scoffs to the nickname.

“What? You want me to go back to pookie?” She smiles deviously listening to him groan. “Anyway, I saw yea chattin’ it up with Y/N. Did you finally ask her yet?”

“Ask her what?”

“Oh come on!” Carol shoved him playfully as Daryl almost pushed her back but decided against it and sat on one of the outdoor chairs she has set up. “You know exactly what I mean Dixon” she took the other empty seat listening to the man groan even more. “She’s a catch. If you’re not going to say anything, someone else is gonna swoop in”

I don’t even want to think about that Daryl rolls his eyes turning his attention to the bridge. “The fuck am I supposed to say that I should’ve said years ago?”

________

“You’ve seen Y/N?”

“Oh my god. Are you actually going to finally do it, Dixon?” Carol teases handing him a bowl of breakfast which was whatever meat the archer hunted for that morning.

“Shut up” Daryl grumbles taking his bowl and going to sit with Rick at the table he was at with Judith in his arms.

“Waiting for Y/N?” Rick smirks watching Daryl glare as he was about to get up and leave. “Woah Woah. I surrender…sorry man. Just never seen someone so close to our navy officer and well. Connecting the dots here…”

“How’d yea tell Lori yea liked her?”

“Geez. You have no experience just from that question alone”

“Rick—-“

“Right right. Well. I kind of just went up to her asked if we could talk somewhere more private and then told her how I felt” Rick shrugs, it wasn’t exactly rocket science. “Then one thing lead to another”

Daryl hums in response to such as he watches the gates open showing Michonne returning on the horse they found and Y/N walking beside. They have been going on runs together that would last days or weeks and the archer would be stuck sticking around hoping to run into Y/N just for a second.

“You wanna tell her. Just tell her” Rick smiles picking up Judith and heading inside leaving Daryl to sit there watching Y/N draw closer.

He straightens up and in that moment he decided today was the day to tell her how he feels. But once she got closer to him, Daryl noticed the bandage on her arm and his worry got the best of him.

“Long time no see, Dixon” Y/N smiles warmly even if his neutral expression didn’t exactly cover his tense body language. “It’s just a scrape. Gotta see Hershel to see if it needs stitches”

“You better”

“Oh I will, and then I can tell you about the run I just went on” She smiles patting his shoulder in passing leaving him stuck in his thoughts once more.

________

So many opportunities.

And this was the time he chose to take it head on.

Y/N heard commotion going on between a few Saviors and some Oceanside on the other side of the bridge. She quickly apologizes to Eugene who she was talking to about the progression, to go handle what was going on.

“We shouldn’t have to work with scum like you!”

“It ain’t my fault the old man is making us work with weak ass people like yourselves”

“We’re weak?!” One of the Oceanside men got up in the Savior’s face. “Whose fucking leader is caged like an animal?”

“Woah guys let’s break it—-“ Y/N’s words didn’t reach their deaf ears as the Savior grabbed the Oceanside’s collar tossing them down. “Hey! Stop it”

“Back off!” The Savior yells pushing Y/N aside as she was resilient. “This fucking weakling needs to know his place”

“Oh yeah?!” He snaps back rising to his feet and with an unexpected play of drawing his gun which none of the crew that day thought anyone was armed. Even Y/N.

“Hey—Who told you you can—“

“Shut the fuck up! I ain’t listening to you” the gun pointed at Y/N temporarily before going back to the Savior who seem to be standing his ground. “And I’ve had enough of you Saviors walking all over me”

“Really? Then pull the trigger”

“Hey let’s not escalate this any further” Y/N sternly states to the two while standing in between them as she suddenly felt her hair get pulled to bring her back out of the way of the now nervous Oceansider. “Excuse me—-“

“Nah I wanna see if this fucking pussy will actually pull the trigger” He snaps in the nervous one’s face as Y/N tried to push him back because this wasn’t going to end well regardless.

Then the gunshot rang through the nearby woods, alerting the residents in the tent city. Daryl quickly rose to his feet running over toward the bridge with Carol following shortly behind. The two noticed a small crowd was formed and as they drew near, Daryl instantly locked onto Y/N pinning the Oceansider down while Rick kept the Savior at a distance.

“What the hell happened?” Carol snaps bringing herself over to Y/N before realizing. “Let me take over”

“Just take his gun away” Y/N hissed through the pain in her side given the Oceansider was a nervous wreck, making him a nervous shot. He aimed low and Y/N knocked the Savior out of the way. Resulting in her receiving the bullet. “Get the leader of Oceanside to take care of her own, Carol will confiscate the gun and…”

“We’ll call it a day” Rick finishes for her but then noticed the shakiness in her composure. “Somebody catch her”

And that was Daryl’s cue. He caught her right as she started to faint. The archer quickly picked her up and didn’t wait another second to take her to the med-tent that currently had Enid working. Not that he didn’t trust the prodigy, he would rather have Siddiq for someone this important.

“It’s just a flesh wound”

“So no bullet?” Rick asks Enid once she finished applying the pressure bandage on Y/N’s side.

“No bullet. Through and through”

“This could’ve been a whole lot worse. Hell remember when you took a bullet?” Carol laughs a bit of the tension away referring to Daryl’s near death moment.

“Yeah but I would like to knock that son of a bitch’s teeth in when Andrea walked away”

Both Rick and Carol gave each other a confused look when Daryl said such. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed.

“What.”

“Andrea didn’t just walk away”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The archer was even more confused than ever.

But he’s not the only one pining for another.

________

“Oh you’re a fucking moron that’s trigger happy”

“Now Y/N I didn’t know it was Daryl—-“

“Don’t fucking matter.” Y/N didn’t hesitate to punch the girl square in the jaw, with enough force to cause her to stumble and before Shane or Rick could intervene Y/N held her hand up toward them. Indicating she was done after that. “Four of our men ran over to Daryl to take out the walker—if it was a walker—you didn’t have to get on your high horse and shoot the only other person in this goddamn group that understands”

“Understands fucking what?!”

“I don’t like you. You ain’t getting that out of me” Y/N knelt to her level on the ground. “But if he doesn’t pull through or you try that shit again. I’ll put you six feet under with my bare hands”

________

“She was scary” Rick laughs a bit. “Seriously. Why do yea think I don’t piss her off?”

“Besides, she was at your bedside when you slept in the farmhouse” Carol adds. “She really protective of you in some way”

“She was also the advocate to get yea out of the Sanctuary job sooner. So you didn’t have to relive any trauma left there”

The two stopped talking when they heard Y/N groan indicating she was waking up.

“We’re gonna take care of cleaning up for the night” Carol smiles giving Daryl a look as he glares back stating this isn’t the right time. But she didn’t care and insisted with her eyes.

Enid handed Daryl the painkillers for Y/N to take before giving them the room (or tent).

“Take it easy”

“I feel like shit” She crooked out with a sigh following, Daryl reached for the canteen opening it for her and taking out a few pills. “Mm. Nurse Daryl to my rescue?” She teases bringing herself to sit up which she regretted given the stitches in her side.

“Lay back down and let me actually nurse yea” Daryl got up to grab the pillow from the other cot to help her sit up a bit to take the pills with the water.

Y/N sighs once more handing the canteen back to Daryl and sinking into the cot. “Shit got out of hand”

“Yea don’t gotta talk about it right now. Just rest”

“Mm…Carol and Rick talk a lot” She randomly states receiving Daryl’s confused look as she brought her right arm under her head. “I wasn’t fully unconscious. Yeah lost some blood and fainted, but started coming too a bit ago”

Shit. “What’d yea hear?”

“Besides how you were barking at Enid for doing a simple repair because of how worried you were. The fucking farmhouse story. Guess we both have bullet scars”

“That…isn’t something to be happy about”

“Oh I’m not happy. That bitch reminded me of Andrea when she was trigger happy. Regardless…you’re missing my point here”

“I think I’m tryin’ to avoid it”

“Why?” Y/N gave him a small smile. “Because you wanna be the one to tell me you have feelings for me and not the other way around?” She continues to smile while the blush became more prominent on Daryl’s face.

“I thought…uh. I waited too long”

“We never had a quiet moment, D. Just think about it”

The outbreak in the quarry

Merle gone missing

The CDC exploding

The farm

The Governor Pt. 1

The prison illness

The Governor Pt. 2

Terminus

Grady Memorial Hospital

Old Alexandria

The massive herd

The wolves

The Saviors introduction

Daryl’s kidnapping

The Saviors demise

…Wow

“We really didn’t…” Daryl frowns watching Y/N bring her free hand to take one of his. “But I was still protective of yea”

“So was I”

“Is this finally that moment?”

“As fucked as it is” She laughs squeezing his hand a bit as Daryl leans into her pressing his lips firmly against hers. Feeling the hand behind her head move to run through his hair.

Once they parted…

“Took you two long enough” Carol chimes in with the biggest smile on her face. “Should’ve made a bet on it”

“Shut up”

[centrally-unplanned]

I saw this slightly-old post making the rounds recently by former alt-right memelord Walt Bismark, on how the alt-right "won" in the late 2010's - positing that as the cause of why it generally vanished. I agree overall with the vanishing part, its not gone-gone ofc but it waned as a cohesive movement. But I saw a lot of people (and generally not alt-right figures) agreeing with its conclusion and I am a bit more skeptical of those.

Its largely a personal essay so I wont address most of it, but it has a summary of five main points that outline essentially "the agenda of the Alt Right at the beginning" to evaluate success upon. Bismark thinks they won on all five, but overall I think this is playing a trick of inventing an enemy to claim you defeated. Anyway, the points:

1: Shift the “Overton Window” of acceptable public discourse to make it politically viable to openly discuss the interests of white people in mainstream politics, in the same way black people or Jewish people discuss their collective interests. 

This one I will grant a partial victory - there was a legitimate intensification of "white as identity" in politics, a making explicit what was implicit in the 2010's. Now ofc I consider this to be a classic horseshoe moment; the hard left at the time was also extremely interested in abandoning race neutrality and valorizing racial identity as an organizing principle, and did it in a very ham-fisted way that the right capitalized on, so it was an easy battle to win - but that is what it is, ofc the wider environment defined the goals & strategy. I mention it however because I do think this is only partial, and the gap between implicit and explicit isn't that relevant. He mentions as an example of this success:

Affirmative action was of course squashed by SCOTUS and the necessary legal infrastructure is being deployed to burn it down. Mainstream conservatives are mobilizing a lot of resources and energy to this end.

But conservatives have been fighting affirmative action for 20+ years, easily. Here is a 1999 article on precisely such a campaign, I literally just googled "conservatives affirmative action [year]" and I get results each time, 2003 had big cases (the Bollinger cases) on AA, etc. I remember "affirmative action bake sale" memes from like 2006 at my uni! What changed between Bollinger and 2023's Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard is that conservatives had just had enough time to stack courts, and wait for Supreme Court justices to die. That just...takes time to do! The strategy hadn't changed between 2003 and 2023. And meanwhile, did they win? They won that court case, sure. What do you...think the ethic makeup of the next Harvard class is gonna be? Wanna take some bets?

His other listed victories are things like:

"Vivek defended the Great Replacement Theory on national television and remained a major Trump surrogate. The SPLC would have marginalized him for that 10 years ago. Today because of polarization and MAGA closing ranks they can’t do shit."

And like, the Southern Poverty Law Center would have successfully marginalized a Republican politician in idk 2003 are you completely high right now? Strom Fucking Thurmond was an active Senator in 2003! This is the repeated tactic here, the imagined enemies - there was never a time where liberal institutions could consistently force conservative politicians to kowtow, so you can't claim it as a change.

This is why I mention the social justice horseshoe, because he has this point here:

These days you can complain about quotas etc. being unfair to you as a white man and it’s not inflammatory or low status among centrists and conservatives. Even non-woke liberals won’t really hate you for it, just quietly think you’re a bit of a chud. This was not the case in 2015. 

And this is partially correct, I agree there was some norm shift. But that is because in ~2010 there really weren't any quotas against white men, it wasn't a thing almost anywhere outside of university applications, so the complaint would make no sense. What happened was that starting in ~2012 a huge left cultural movement started that just openly supported active discrimination against whites, Asians and men. They were a small minority of course, and never had much power, but they got enough power in certain institutions like non-profits and universities that there was a string of just very obvious cases of clear racial discrimination against in particular whites & asians (both men and women, white women often got it very bad in this wave). And the large majority of people just saw that and went "uh yeah racism is still bad?" and so now you can say that because its actually relevant to say. From that lens, is this a successful cultural victory on the part of the alt-right? In some sense sure, but really its more a cultural failure of the hard left. The status quo just kept on chugging along.

Ugh that point went long, the others repeat so we will go through them quicker.

2: Elevate identity issues like anti-immigration and the promotion of traditional gender norms to the center of Republican politics. 

A fake enemy here - anti-immigration was already a huge issue for Republicans in the 2000's. It had a huge wave under Obama actually, it goes in cycles like that. And it responds to material conditions; it's a big issue again right now because the immigration numbers spiked massively under Biden, its just way worse of a problem now (primarily due to the booming economy of course). Again a partial victory for the first part, I agree its more salient due to Trump platforming it, but I'm skeptical that it is a big shift - people are memory-holing the Tea Party movement really badly here for example.

And the second point is just obviously false, Republicans always cared about that, and they care about it less now, giving up the ghost on gay marriage for example. The Alt-Right coincided with a decline of the influence of the Religious Right, and it shows on this issue, 0 points.

3: Make it socially acceptable to discuss HBD and the resulting moral implications for leveling mechanisms like affirmative action. 

Peak "log off" moment, it was always acceptable to discuss this outside of liberal/professional circles and there it still isn't acceptable to discuss it. Charles Murray wrote the Bell Curve in 1994 and his been an American Enterprise Institute Scholar for this entire span of time. This is confusing churn for change - the mid-2010's had a bunch of big, mainly online fights about HBD, and then everyone just sort of moved on with the status quo pretty much unchanged. Nothing like education policy, even in Republican circles, has shifted over this.

4: Convince conservatives to stop ceding moral authority to liberals and allowing them to determine who on the Right is verboten or beyond the pale. Make it unacceptable among conservatives to “punch Right” or purge people for wrongthink. 

Sigh, again when have Republicans ever ceded moral authority to liberals? Harvard University could not condemn Newt Gingrich in ~2009 and make him change his mind about anything. And "Republicans don't self-criticize while Liberals eat themselves alive" has been a complaint for literally decades, you would hear that as far back as say Clinton and things like the 1999 WTO protests. Its both true and exaggerated - the Tea Party primaried Republican candidates for wrongthink in 2010, and Trump did the same thing! With disastrous results for the Republicans in 2022. I really, really don't think you can look at Trump's Republican party and say they solved the Wrongthink problem.

5: Expose and dismantle the hypocritical attitude that allows neocons to militantly support Israeli ethnonationalism while brutally repressing any white identity politics domestically.

This one is just a lolwut moment, "brutally repressing any white identity politics domestically", like what does that even mean? Name the concrete policy proposals George Bush implemented in 2007 than Donald Trump didn't in 2018 around this topic. Again a fake enemy, they were never repressed by the right, and ofc are still hated by liberal institutions like universities.

Moving on from any specific point, I think its very telling that very little about free trade vs protectionism or isolationism/support of autocracy abroad enters this list. Because beyond immigration those are the big shifts the Trump movement (which is the mechanism the alt-right has to claim for making its impact) has ushered into the party. They didn't change its stance on sexual politics or "race & IQ" or anything, those haven't changed, but meanwhile the party has completely flipped on things like tariffs or opposition to Russian military expansion. But of course those don't align neatly at all with the issues the Alt-Right fought about in 2015.

The reality the Alt-Right can't escape is that they used Trump as their mechanism for change, and Trump never really cared about any of their goals beyond immigration. He used them and then pursued either bog-standard Republican policy or his own mercurial, autocratic whims, eventually channeling all of this energy into election denialism. I really don't think if you pulled aside frikkin Ryan Faulk in 2014, asked him to put down his graphs about Raven's Progressive Matrices of black Caribbean students, and said "Hey 10 years from now all of this energy is being channeled into pretending that a failed real estate mogul didn't lose the 2020 presidential election", that he would look at that outcome and think Mission Accomplished.

I don't want to fully oversell, there are for example wins Bismark doesn't mention (School choice comes to mind, the biggest conservative win of the past decade besides the protectionist swing). The Alt Right was an influential movement, it earned its place in history. But I do not think it is an example of being a "victim of its own success". I think instead it should be understood as part of the "radical froth" of the 2010's, that bubbled over and then evaporated like its more intense leftwing peers did. It made some mark and then got left in the dust.

Net ranking of the 5 points: 0.5 for Point 1, 0.25 for Point 2, 0 for the rest, 1.25/5.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Wrong One 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Raymond Smith

Summary: You get caught up in the double lives of your employers.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You’re left alone. Again. That’s worse than anything. The waiting.

When the door opens again, it’s one of the henchman. You’ve sorted them in your head. The leader with the broad shoulders and blue eyes is boss man; Henchman #1 is the tallest of the trio, and Henchman #2 is irritable and seemingly oldest of them.

He has a cup in his hand and a water bottle. In the cup is a toothbrush and the butt end of a tube of toothpaste. He puts it on the only table not covered in a sheet.

“Boss says,” he goes back to the door to lock it, “you can clean out your mouth.” He turns and nears you, “also says I can take the tape off. For twenty minutes. Let you stretch your legs.”

“Nice man,” you remarks grimly.

He snorts but does his best to hide it, “miss, you needa… relieve yourself? He says that’s permitted too.”

You drop your shoulders, “yeah, I should… hate to die with a full bladder.”

The man goes around to the back of the chair and cuts the tape without confirming or denying your suggestion. As your hands are released, he comes around to undo your ankles. He stands straight and folds away his knife.

“You’re not gonna try nothin’, are ya?” He slides the knife onto his belt.

“Shouldn’t you ask that before?”

This time, he lets himself laugh.

“Right,” he agrees, “well, you go on, get those teeth brushed. Boss wasn’t impressed by the whole puke show.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you stand up on wobbly legs and the weight in your bladder shifts. Oh, you definitely need to go.

“He don’t got the strongest stomach himself,” the man scratches through his mask.

“Well, tell him I’m sorry, I guess,” you go to the table and swig a small mouthful of water, trying to cleanse a bit of dryness. You focus on getting the toothbrush lined with paste, the minty smell almost mouth watering.

“Sure,” the man crosses his arms as he stands in front of the door. “When you’re done, I’ll take ya to the lav.”

“Mm,” you grumble as you shove the brush in your mouth.

You brush diligently, happy to have the sour flavour out of your mouth. You swish and spit into the cup and leave the toothbrush next to it with the tube. You turn to the man, nearing him tentatively. You have no intent to try anything. You have a better chance if you just go along.

“Stop there,” he orders as you two feet away.

He turns, only slightly, to unlock the door, looking back and forth between the exit and you. He opens it up and waves you forward. His other hand goes to the holster on his belt. You raises your hands and walk forward.

“Promise, I’ll be good.”

He grabs your shoulder as he lets you pass and walks with a vice grip on you down a hallway. He stops you at the first door to your right. It’s open.

“In there.”

“Got it.”

You enter and he flips the light on behind you. Before you can say anything else, he pulls the door shut. You sigh and look around. The bathroom has been stripped down. A single hand towel on the bar and a small sample-sized bottle of soap next to the sink. The curtain’s been removed from above the tub as all that remains are the tile and paint.

You undo your jeans and sit on the toilet. Your body aches stiffly from your time bound to the rigid chair. That’s crueler than anything. Keeping you bound like that. You can’t even scratch your nose. You take the chance to get a good itch in.

You finish up and wash your hands, pausing as you notice the small guide taped to the mirror. Step-by-step with diagrams on proper hand-washing. You take your time and follow them, just to extend your brief taste of freedom. You leave the tap running to dry your hands and use the towel to shut it off as directed. Strange…

You go to the door but it opens before you can grab for the handle. On the other side, Henchman #1 has been replaced by the boss man. You look up and down the hall curiously.

“We need to talk,” he says curtly.

You look at him and nod. You don’t really have a choice. He points you back the way you came. You dutifully turn and walk ahead of him. Paranoia nips at you as you imagine him pointing a barrel at you from behind. Is this some trick?

You go back into the room; your cell. The door closes as his weight creaks in the floorboards. You look at the chair but you’re not ready to sit down. You pace before you face him. He stands plaintively by the door.

“We have Mrs. Malfort.”

“What? Er, oh–” you blink, “should you tell me that?”

“So that means,” he continues as if you hadn’t spoken, “you can’t leave.”

You frown, “right.”

“Which means I need to decide what to do with–”

“Can I just… Can I leave a message? For my sister? That’s all. Please–”

“Would you let me finish?” He shows his hand, still gloved.

You nod and swallow tightly.

“This is a one time offer. You get a choice. But you have to know before you make it, it sticks. This is a one way street, regardless which you choose.”

You fold your arms and shrug.

“So, we can end this, just as you’ve been expecting, simple, fast, one bullet,” he explains, “or…” he lets the word hang before he carries on, “you can continue your work as a maid.” He clutches his hand to a fist, “here.”

You tilt your head and bring one hand to the side of your neck.

“I have to decide now?” You ask.

He dips his head and lifts his hand. He tugs on the mask until it comes off. You see long blond hair, smoothed back beneath his glove as he raises his chin. Tufts of his beard jut out from the friction of the mask, his blue eyes twinkle and he squints. He reaches into his pocket and unfolds a pair of glasses.

“Now or never,” he declares.

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt. 12

A/N: Apologies for the radio silence for so long but it's been hectic getting my dissertation finished! I only have a few more weeks of assignments left and then uni is done which is very scary. For now enjoy this part! As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or send any requests you have for this pairing!

I make no claim that my ranching knowledge is accurate, it's all made up.

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!reader

Previous part - Next part

---

The first colours of the day are starting to paint the sky when y/n stepped out of the house, hat securely on her head and cooler full of food for Gator who was waiting for her.  She dropped it next to the stone grill in exchange for two steaming mugs of coffee that she took to the barn where Jimmy was opening up.

When he got to the open door she handed him one of the mugs, “learning to do this shit one-handed is vital to starting the day properly caffeinated.”

The pair worked through tacking up the horses for the day in a comfortable routine that they had perfected over the last few weeks working together.  Despite repeated reminders that it was low man’s job to tack up in the morning, y/n just glared at whoever directed the reminder at her and insisted that it was a ritual she enjoyed.  Besides, anything she could do to help Jimmy pick up ranch skills quicker and avoid ridicule from the hands.

Comanche was the last horse y/n tacked up, always choosing to leave her own horse until the end when she could give him a little bit of extra attention (and her apple core, an important part of his day).  She led him outside of the barn in time to hear Rip calling out the start of the day.  Mourning the fact that she hadn’t had time for a morning cigarette, y/n mounted up to follow the hands out of the gate towards the herd.

-/-/-

A few hours later, the hands were moving all the cattle from their grazing with the help of the helicopter.  Y/n had Comanche positioned at the back of the group with Ryan and Colby to the left of her to keep the herd moving forward.

“I thought you’d be better to deal with once we finally got over 10 years of pining but no turns out you’re just more of a soft fucker,” Colby complained to Ryan.

She laughed at her friend, “not all cowboys are emotionally stunted like you Colby, no need to be jealous I’m sure you’ll find a real girl to love you one day.”

“A real girl?  As opposed to a what girl?”

“A blow up one,” Ryan sighed, “she’s saying you have a sex doll.”

He didn’t get a chance to insult her back as she opted to leave the boys at the back to check in at the front.  She eased to a walk next to Lloyd when Rip rode up to them.

“Y/n you’re in charge of keeping everyone on track,” he directed, “I gotta deal with stragglers.”

She saluted him and shouted after him, “take Jimmy with you!”

“You’ll take all our jobs when we retire, kid,” Lloyd commented.

Y/n laughed, “old man you ain’t ever gonna retire.  I know you’re gonna die on that horse herding cattle.”

She peeled away and returned to the back next to Ryan who smiled softly at her.  Colby gagged at his friends which earned a middle finger from both of them.  Everyone’s eyes snapped to the trees when there was a shout followed by hooves at speed.

“Ryan, Colby go get those cattle back here!” Y/n shouted, “Lloyd help Jimmy with the horse!”

Repositioning her hat to keep the sun out of her eyes, y/n groaned internally as she scanned over the remaining hands to ensure no more cattle would slip through the cracks.  John had spent her whole life preparing Lee to take over the ranch but now that he was gone, it seemed that her father was desperately scrambling.  In her opinion it seemed far too convenient that John had decided to reconcile with Kayce when the ranch needed an heir, overlooking the fact that she’d been part of the operation for 8 years.  She was pretty sure that she could handle the (legitimate) side of the ranch with her eyes closed.

“You looking deep in thought there sweetheart,” Ryan cut through the anger simmering under the surface.

She smiled at him, “just wishing that dad would see I could handle the ranch.  Jimmy alright?”

“Anyone would think that you feel sorry for him,” he joked half-heartedly.

Lucy shrugged, “I do Ry.  I was born doing this and y’all chose it but he didn’t.  Least I can do is hope he adapts quick.”

She watched as the cattle slipped into the rest of the herd, keeping an eye out for any of them that might have sustained an injury going through the woods.  They were followed by Lloyd who she gestured over to the back before he could get to Rip.

“He’s finding his hat before he comes back,” He answered her question before she got it out.

Y/n huffed out a breath, “fuck knows losing that would not go over well.”

With a nod to her, he turned his horse around and cantered back to head up the herd.  Lucy patted Comanche’s neck and turned her eyes back to the cattle in front of her.

-/-/-

With all the cattle down by the barn, y/n settled into the familiar movements of separating the herd.  Even when she wasn’t old enough to be in the pen, she could remember sitting on the fence helping  John organise the hands.  When she was 10, she’d been allowed to take part on her horse and Lloyd had spent many a evening helping so that y/n would be able to keep up with her brothers.  At this point in her life, there was a chance she could do this job with one arm tied behind her back.

In the other pen, y/n watched as Kayce’s stallion continued to give John a hard time.  She rolled her eyes and leant over to speak to Lloyd, “I question my brother’s motives for giving dad that horse unless he’s tryna get his inheritance early.”

“I think it’s gonna take a bit more than a horse with a vendetta to kill your father,” he remarked.  

Y/n laughed, “here’s hoping a concussion might knock some sense into him.  That or finally kill the rest of his brain cells and I can take over the whole thing.”

She turned her attention back to the cattle encouraging Comanche forward to cut off one of the heifers that had made a break for it.  With her thoughts back on the job and not her father, y/n quickly fell back into the rhythm of working the cattle.

-/-/-

A little while later, y/n’s attention was pulled away from the cattle to Kayce’s truck pulling up outside the barn.  She watched her brother get out before helping Tate out of the other side.  Her nephew made a beeline to the corral to climb the fence, fascinated with what the hands were doing.  Y/n sought out Rip’s gaze from the opposite side who waved her towards the fence where Tate was watching from.  With a smile of thanks to the foreman, she brought Comanche parallel to the boy.

“What are you doing?” Tate asked in greeting, reaching out to stroke the horse’s spotted neck.

His aunt glanced back at the herd, “well we’ve got to split up the herd before we can send them off to make sure they all go to the right place.  Different colours mean different things.  It’s up to us to know which colour is meant to go to who.”

“Mind if I steal your nephew from you?” John leant up against the fence next to him.

She leant down from Comanche to receive a high-five from her nephew, “he’s all your dad.  Misbehave for me Tate.”

Ignoring her dad’s groan and her suggestion, she directed the gelding around the remaining herd to where Ryan had been watching the conversation with hearts in his eyes.

“Why you looking at me like that?  Someone will see you,” Y/n teased.

He rolled his eyes at her, “you’re good with him.  That’s all.”

“For all my brother’s faults he and Mon made a damn good kid,” Y/n admitted, “I just hope dad doesn’t mess it up with how he’s gettin’ his claws in of late.  Tate practically worships him.”

“He adores you too y’know,” Ryan pointed out to her.

Y/n shrugged him off, “that’s just because I’m the only part of this side of the family that’s been around since he was born.  Dad has a lot more interest to a young boy than boring aunt Lucy.”

“You ain’t boring to me sweetheart.”

---

@child-of-of-the-sunshine @kendallroydefender @qardasngan @thecobraghost @little-diable