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cocainerehabs · 8 months
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Cocaine Addiction Help: Your Path to Recovery
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Picture this: life as a journey. A journey through the thickets and thorns, where the path seems unending, and the weight on your shoulders feels insurmountable. Cocaine addiction can be that relentless jungle you find yourself lost in. It's a winding labyrinth that many individuals across the United States grapple with daily. The good news is that, just like any challenging trek, there's help available along the way.
In this article, we will be your compass, guiding you through the tangled terrain of cocaine addiction, and illuminating the beacons of hope and support on your journey to recovery. Let's embark on this expedition to a brighter, Cocaine Addiction Help.
Understanding Cocaine Addiction
Before we dive into the deep waters of addiction help, it's crucial to understand what we're dealing with. Cocaine, often referred to as "coke" or "blow," is a powerful stimulant drug. It acts on the central nervous system, producing a euphoric high by increasing the levels of certain neurotransmitters, such as dopamine and norepinephrine, in the brain. This intense pleasure can lead to frequent use, often spiraling into addiction.
What does addiction to cocaine look like?
Cocaine addiction isn't just a matter of casual use or recreational indulgence. It's a monster that can take hold of your life. Signs of cocaine addiction may include:
Compulsive cravings: You find yourself thinking about or needing cocaine all the time.
Neglect of responsibilities: Prioritizing the drug over work, family, and social obligations.
Tolerance and withdrawal: Needing more cocaine to achieve the same high and experiencing physical and psychological symptoms when you try to quit.
Risky behaviors: Engaging in dangerous activities while under the influence.
Financial troubles: Spending excessive money on the drug, often leading to debt.
Cocaine and the Brain: The Battle Within
Cocaine addiction is not merely a choice; it's a complex interplay of chemicals and neural circuitry within the brain. Understanding this battle within can help you appreciate the gravity of the situation.
Imagine your brain as a finely tuned orchestra, each neuron playing a specific role in harmony. Cocaine barges in like an unruly guest, disrupting this symphony. It hijacks your brain's reward system, making you believe that cocaine is the only path to happiness.
But what happens when the orchestra's conductor - the cocaine - goes rogue?
Dopamine overload: Cocaine artificially floods your brain with dopamine, creating a high that's almost impossible to resist.
Desensitization: Over time, your brain becomes less responsive to natural rewards, like food and love, making you increasingly reliant on cocaine for pleasure.
Compulsive seeking: The drug's influence becomes so potent that your brain becomes a relentless hunter, searching for that next high.
Now, here's the good news: your brain has an amazing capacity to heal, to rewrite its own score. This is where cocaine addiction help comes into play.
Cocaine Addiction Help: The Map to Recovery
Recovery is a challenging, yet entirely feasible journey. It's like climbing a steep mountain. The path may be treacherous, but the view from the top is breathtaking.
Step 1: Recognizing the Problem
The first and most vital step is acknowledging that you have a problem. This is like finding your bearings on a map; without it, you can't begin the journey.
Rhetorical Question: Do you want to break free from the chains of addiction and rediscover your true self?
Step 2: Seek Professional Help
You wouldn't navigate a dense forest without a guide, and addiction is no different. Professionals, such as therapists, counselors, and addiction specialists, can be your guiding stars.
Rhetorical Question: Would you cross a turbulent river without a sturdy bridge? So why try to overcome addiction alone?
Step 3: Inpatient or Outpatient Treatment
Inpatient rehab is like booking a cabin in the woods. It's an immersive experience, providing a controlled environment where you can focus solely on recovery. Outpatient treatment is more like a day hike, allowing you to continue with your daily life while attending therapy sessions.
Analogy: Think of inpatient treatment as a cocoon where you transform into a stronger, drug-free butterfly.
Step 4: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT)
CBT is like a compass, helping you navigate the psychological maze of addiction. It equips you with the tools to identify and modify the behaviors and thought patterns that fuel your addiction.
Rhetorical Question: Would you try to climb Mount Everest without proper gear? In the same vein, why tackle addiction without the right cognitive tools?
Step 5: Support Groups
Recovery can be a lonely path, like trekking through an uncharted wilderness. Support groups are like fellow travelers who share their experiences, providing companionship, guidance, and inspiration.
Analogy: Think of support groups as fellow sailors on the vast sea of recovery, helping you navigate the storms.
Step 6: Lifestyle Changes
Just as an explorer must adapt to the harsh terrain, you must modify your lifestyle to avoid triggers and temptations. This involves changes in your social circles, activities, and habits.
Rhetorical Question: Would you set up camp in the heart of a thunderstorm? Similarly, why remain in environments that feed your addiction?
Step 7: Relapse Prevention
The journey to recovery might encounter setbacks, but these are not dead-ends. Think of them as detours on your path. Relapse prevention strategies are your map to get back on track.
Analogy: In a road trip, when you take a wrong turn, you don't give up. You reroute and keep moving forward.
Step 8: Aftercare
Recovery doesn't end when you leave the rehab center or complete therapy. It's an ongoing process. Aftercare programs ensure you have a safety net as you transition back into the world.
Analogy: Aftercare is like a safety harness when you're learning to rock climb - it's there to catch you if you slip.
The Power of Family and Friends
Your loved ones are your allies in this journey. They are your travel companions, your support system. Their love and encouragement can make the path less daunting.
Just as a team of sled dogs can help a musher traverse the snow-covered tundra, your friends and family can assist you on your journey.
Educate Them About Addiction
To help them understand what you're going through, educate your loved ones about addiction. Knowledge is like a lantern in the dark; it dispels fear and uncertainty.
Seek Their Support
Your family and friends can be your anchor. Share your progress, challenges, and goals with them. Let them be your cheerleaders.
Communicate Openly
Addiction recovery is like a boat on choppy waters. Clear communication with your loved ones is the life jacket that keeps you afloat.
Holistic Healing: Body and Mind
Recovery isn't just about breaking free from addiction; it's about rebuilding your life. Consider it as reconstructing a crumbling house, brick by brick.
Healthy Diet and Exercise
Think of your body as the foundation of this house. Nourish it with a healthy diet and regular exercise. A strong foundation supports a solid structure.
Mindfulness and Meditation
Your mind is the architect of this reconstruction. Practicing mindfulness and meditation can help you regain clarity, focus, and inner peace.
Hobbies and Passions
Just as you'd decorate your rebuilt house, find hobbies and passions that bring joy and fulfillment. They're the artwork that makes your life beautiful.
The Journey to Sobriety: Take Your First Step
Recovery from cocaine addiction is like embarking on a grand adventure. There might be hurdles, but there are also breathtaking vistas, newfound strengths, and a rekindled zest for life.
Picture this: the sun rising over the horizon, casting a warm glow on the path ahead. You're not alone; you're surrounded by guides, supporters, and a future brimming with possibilities.
Summary of the Journey:
Recognize the problem.
Seek professional help.
Choose inpatient or outpatient treatment.
Embrace cognitive behavioral therapy.
Join support groups.
Make necessary lifestyle changes.
Learn relapse prevention.
Embrace aftercare.
Engage your friends and family.
Prioritize holistic healing.
So, are you ready to set foot on this transformative journey towards a cocaine-free life? Remember, every step you take is a step away from the shadows and towards the light. The path is challenging, but the destination is worth it. Start your journey today. Your future self will thank you for it.
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Seeking Help: Treatment for Alcoholism Near Me
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If you or a loved one is struggling with alcoholism, you're not alone. Alcohol use disorder affects millions of people in the United States. The good news is that help is within reach. In this article, we'll explore the options for treatment for alcoholism near you, guiding you through the journey to recovery.
I. The First Step: Recognizing the Need for Help A. The Spiral of Alcoholism Alcoholism often begins with casual drinking, but it can spiral out of control, affecting all aspects of life. Recognizing the signs of alcoholism is the crucial first step. It's like acknowledging that you're lost before you can find your way.
B. What Are the Signs? Common signs of alcoholism include:
An increasing tolerance to alcohol Drinking in larger amounts or for longer periods than intended Unsuccessful attempts to cut down or control alcohol use Spending a lot of time obtaining, using, or recovering from the effects of alcohol Craving or a strong desire to use alcohol Failing to fulfill major obligations at work, school, or home Continued alcohol use despite social or interpersonal problems Giving up or reducing important social, occupational, or recreational activities because of alcohol use Using alcohol in situations where it's physically hazardous Continued alcohol use despite knowledge of a persistent or recurrent physical or psychological problem likely to have been caused or exacerbated by alcohol Needing more alcohol to achieve the desired effect (tolerance) Experiencing withdrawal symptoms when alcohol use is stopped or reduced If you or someone you care about exhibits these signs, it's time to consider seeking help. It's like recognizing the warning signs on a winding road.
II. The Search for Treatment for Alcoholism Near Me A. Local Treatment Centers One of the first steps in finding help is to search for alcoholism treatment centers near you. Many cities and towns have dedicated facilities that offer a range of treatment options, including inpatient and outpatient programs. These centers are staffed by professionals who are experienced in dealing with alcohol use disorder. It's like finding an oasis in the desert when you're in desperate need of help.
B. Online Resources In today's digital age, the internet can be a valuable resource for finding local treatment centers. You can use search engines and online directories to identify treatment facilities in your area. It's like having a map at your fingertips, guiding you to the nearest exit.
C. Support Groups Support groups, such as Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), play a significant role in helping individuals overcome alcoholism. These groups provide a sense of community and understanding that can be a vital part of the recovery process. It's like having fellow travelers on the road to sobriety.
III. Types of Alcoholism Treatment A. Inpatient Treatment Inpatient treatment, often referred to as residential treatment, involves staying at a treatment center 24/7. It's an immersive experience that provides a structured and supportive environment for recovery. It's like entering a rehabilitation retreat, focusing solely on your well-being.
B. Outpatient Treatment Outpatient treatment allows individuals to receive therapy and support while living at home. This option offers flexibility for those who need to maintain their daily responsibilities. It's like having a guiding hand while navigating your everyday life.
C. Medication-Assisted Treatment (MAT) Medication-assisted treatment involves the use of medications, such as naltrexone or disulfiram, to help manage alcohol cravings and reduce the risk of relapse. These medications are often used in conjunction with therapy and counseling. It's like having a shield to protect you from the siren call of alcohol.
IV. The Importance of Therapy Therapy is a critical component of alcoholism treatment. Individual therapy allows you to explore the root causes of your alcoholism and develop coping strategies. Group therapy provides a supportive community of individuals who understand your struggle. It's like having a toolbox filled with tools to help you rebuild your life.
V. The Role of Family and Friends Alcoholism doesn't just affect the individual; it impacts family and friends as well. In many cases, involving loved ones in the treatment process can be incredibly beneficial. Family therapy can help repair relationships and provide a strong support system. It's like mending a broken bridge to connect with those you care about.
VI. The Journey to Recovery Recovery from alcoholism is a journey that requires dedication and support. It's not always an easy path, but it's a path worth taking. Each step you take is like moving closer to a brighter future, free from the chains of alcoholism.
VII. The Decision Is Yours The decision to seek help for alcoholism is a personal one, but it's a decision that can change your life. If you're asking yourself, "Is there treatment for alcoholism near me?" the answer is likely "yes." The next step is to reach out and take that first brave step toward a healthier, happier, and sober life.
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seithr · 6 months
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illness talk / medicine / family associated stuff i dont know
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enchantressiren · 2 months
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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐌𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐌𝐲 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠.❞
What is sexually appealing about you? + channeled song(s)
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Subliminal channel | Masterlist
Tips | Paid Readings
Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition. Question credit: @earthling-cravings, thank you
Normal intuitive readings: @sefinaa
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Pile I
I hear your tongue is sexually appealing, so my intuition tells me that you have a tongue piercing or that it’s split. For those who split their tongue, you did it unintentionally while drunk and regret it, but people think it is hot. You are attracting a lot of people because of that, especially if you are into women. My intuition tells me that it is a great way to please someone with a pussy because it is similar to having two tongues. For those of you who have a piercing on your tongue, people like the feeling or texture when you give oral. People will find it very sexy if you do not do one-night stands because you are defying society's norms and doing something completely different. Right now, I am horny and have heat around my thighs, and when you are near others, you do the same to them. You make others instantly turn their heads at you because you ooze a rebellious, confident nature; it’s very visible even if you cannot see it. Some of you lack confidence and do not understand what I mean, but that’s because you don’t see your own worth. Intuition tells me that you let others decide for yourself whether or not you should be comfortable in your skin. Do not do that, and stop doing so. I am telling you that you are worth the attention and love given in this reading. 
I hear, "I have never had a thing for piercings or split tongues, but whenever I see you coming or walking past me, I get instantly horny and can not control it, so I will go to the restroom or somewhere private and masturbate because of you. What are you doing to me?” The overall energy I feel from other people is that you are an aphrodisiac brownie. Aphrodisiac brownies are a drug that causes someone to increase their lust, pleasure, and skills during sex. You make those around you so horny and sensitive that they cannot control themselves, but do not mistake me for those who have assaulted you. That is not what I meant (please stay safe since I have channeled it has happened before). You make others addicted to that confidence, or, in some cases, since some of you are shy, ''the fake it till you make it’’ confidence. Aphrodisiacs was named after Aphrodite, the goddess of love. You have the same energy as the Greek goddess.
My intuition tells me that people go crazy for you because you go against society. You show intelligence with what you say. You guys are book and street smart at the same time, which makes others want to seek your knowledge and advice. When people do seek your knowledge, you use your gut feelings or the small details they hide—that you have noticed—and see who is worthy of it. As if you are the magical wizard who lends others knowledge they seek. You used to struggle to help everyone with your advice, but you learned how to balance your desire to help others with respect for yourself. You have made a boundary with yourself to never become a doormat again. You are also able to get anything you want. I see a scene appearing in my head where you get arrested by a cop and they push you on their car door. They tell you that you have to remain silently, but you simply mention something to them with a cheeky tone, and they have no choice but to let you go. You can get anything you want by doing nothing; think of it like Simon says, and people will follow through. Even if you were shoplifting, for example, they would have let you go with a simple apology.
Channeled song
Why do you always call me when you’re high? - Arctic Monkeys
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Pile II
Your energy is so sexually appealing that I am blushing and breaking into giggles, wow.
Anyway, everything makes you sexually appealing. Your fashion is amazing—your hair, your nails, your aesthetic, your voice, your charisma, your honesty, etc. Do you know the word perfection, and how have other people said there is no such thing? You are the such thing. I am not sure what it is, but while listening to your channeled song, Unholy by Sam Smith and Kim Petras, I kept blushing, feeling giggly, laughing, and looking away from my wall as if it were someone else, which in this case would be you. I don’t know what you guys do, and I feel like I cannot channel your reading that well because I am blushing, which is funny because others feel the same way. They cannot form words around you because you ooze sex appeal. They are always flustered around you; you could slip and fall, and instead of a negative reaction, even if it’s toxic people around you, they would want to help you and then ask for your number. Like holy shit, your energy is crazy, crazy good. 
You earn a lot of compliments because you are known as perfection, or the beauty queen, or the beauty king; this is like the most amazing person in the world, etc., but no one seems to compliment you on your personality, so allow me to be the one. You are aware of how it is with your appearances, but your personality is very sexually appealing because instead of allowing your wrongdoing and your pride to take over, you take accountability and apologize when you are in the wrong. Instead of saying to somebody that you know so much about a specific topic, a field, or a job that you work in, you admit to somebody that you do not know, even if they tell you that you’re lying about this or that you’re not intelligent. Instead of allowing it to hurt you, you just let it go, and you know your worth, and that is what makes you even more attractive. I do not know what it is with you, but my intuition says you were made from the gods, like the shape or sculpture, into one of those Greek gods/goddess statues or beautiful mythology statues. I hear that you are both beautiful inside and out. You are, but your personality is overlooked because, if you are so attractive, how can you have a beautiful personality? Society is very picky with what it wants, and sometimes you get the short end of the stick because no one really appreciates your intelligence. You know how someone can be smart and beautiful at the same time while having an amazing personality? But it doesn’t make sense for society’s term because you must have only one, and if you don't, then you’re weird. This pile is an anomaly for society or for people. When you do readings for yourself or you read the piles, they don’t explain what you’re looking for or what you need to look for, so instead focus on not seeking other people's validation when it comes to your personality traits. You know your worth. Make sure to trust that feeling around others. When the time comes, you will find the magic you wanted for a while.
Coming back, what makes you sexually appealing? Your aura. Your aura is the color of a purple moon that glistens on a riverside. I see people watching the beautiful moment as it calms even the most heartbroken ones, so my intuition tells me that what pulls people in like a moth towards you is your aura, or in this metaphor, you. You take care of yourself, you help others, you don’t seek revenge, you show forgiveness, you are intelligent, and you have healthy morals. You are beautiful both inside and out, or you watch what you eat. Either way, you’re very aligned with your intuition, as you will not admit it, but despite all of that, your aura is being taken care of by all of these activities. And because it is being taken care of the way that it’s supposed to be, you’re able to amplify those beautiful moments that you do with yourself as you push outwards and ooze this sexy energy. I am getting an image of a siren dancing sexually to attract their prey and then leaning in for a kiss and stepping back. A poisonous gas appears in the shape of a skull. The kiss you give to your prey is the genuine love you show others. The poisonous gas is making others addicted to you; they keep coming back for more. Poison takes time to kill someone, and in this example, you are people’s poison, and it slowly affects them into their grave of ecstasy. You are their sexual experience without doing anything but breathing.
Channeled songs
Unholy - Sam Smith and Kim Petras
MORE - K/DA
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Pile III
You guys are great singers. Your vocal cord's range is similar to that of a siren. You draw people in, and they cannot fight it. Think of your favorite singers and those who you admire, and the way you kind of copy their vocal range because you have a desire to have the same music as them. And then imagine being on stage with over 1,000 people watching you in your ideal outfit—something that has been on your mind for years—and you get up and sing just like that person. And as you sing in a way, you control people like you are the puppeteer, and they are your puppets. My intuition tells me what makes you so appealing are your singing abilities. Even for those of you who are shy and do not sing in front of others, people have heard you, and they do not think badly of you. They see you as an amazing singer, with great vocal cords that can beat most singers nowadays, and sometimes they always imagine you singing in front of them in a way that you guys are the most calming person for them. You guys are their ASMR. Instead of meditating or doing a hobby, they would rather just listen to you in general. Another thing that makes you so appealing is the way that you can instantly show confidence, even if you are shy. My intuition tells me that about 95% of you guys are shy people, but when it comes to singing, you instantly become the most confident person in the entire universe. You guys just know this is something that you’re actually passionate about, and sometimes you wonder if you guys are gonna become big, but the thing is, you can only become big if you truly want it.. My intuition tells me, “you must be your own light. You must have your own goals and your own desires. If you do not seek those goals, then how can you become big? How can you gain a positive community if you do not show it to yourselves? The only way you can become big in the music industry is if you open up your heart and allow your happiness to come within.” So my intuition means that you guys sabotage your own happiness and fear of love that comes your way, but in order to achieve your goals and desires, you must open that part of your life and let go. And you must learn to accept that when you guys become big, you do not have to change who you are and follow the trends. Instead, stay true to yourself and appreciate your own beauty, especially your music style. When you do that, that is how you explode into positive fame. I say positive fame because if you were to go down the path you are on as of now, you will have a rocky start, and it’ll be harder to find what you’re looking for. So you must focus on self love, okay? Okay.
The song I channeled for you is Imma Be by the Black Eyed Peas. As the song starts, it keeps repeating “imma be,” my intuition tells me this is you telling your negative thoughts that you’re gonna become this star you desire, and you keep trying to push these thoughts away. Instead, fight them and tell them to fuck off because you deserve better. Try to bring that same confidence you show when singing into your life. Then the song mentions “imma be on the next level.” Intuition tells me that once you are able to achieve these two, you will be on the next level, aka going to your goals and having them with you. You truly are going to become big, but you must work on yourself first. You cannot manifest well if you do not love yourself and focus on healing. It becomes harder since listening to doubts becomes easier for the brain, so focus on healing. I know this is supposed to be a sexy reading, but it’s advice, I won’t apologize since this is what you guys need to hear. Anyways, the song says “imma be the future” and that’s how you guys will be. The future person that changes the music industry with you desires “doin’ whatever you like.” So.. keep going forward with your goals and keep healing, and then eventually you guys can make people become fucking aroused by your singing voice because that’s what intuition is telling me. Also, when you guys do become popular, I hear that you guys will be known for having one of the hottest singing voices.
Channeled songs
Imma be - Black Eyed Peas
Closer - Ne-yo
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lewisvinga · 5 months
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carmen | lando norris x fem! reader
summary; y/n was addicting to everyone, the boys and the girls. lando was just another one in her path to become ultimately addicted.
warnings; mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, reader is sometimes referred to as carmen by others
notes; lana ate w carmen
‘born to die’ series masterlist.
f1 masterlist !
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“Who is that?”
“Carmen?” Max questions after Lando had gestured to a girl standing by Lewis. Her long blown-out hair, the red dress, and the matching red lip immediately caught Lando’s attention when they stepped into the club to celebrate their podium.
“Her name is Carmen? Like George’s girlfriend?”
“Not really, it’s Y/n, but many people call her Carmen,” Max shrugs. “She’s friends with Lewis though, I see her often in these kinds of scenes. Quite popular in Monaco.”
“Really?” Lando questions with a raised eyebrow. “Never heard of her.”
“Yeah, good. Everyone, they all like Carmen, obsessed with her even.” The Dutch driver began as they made their way to where the other drivers were. “But she hooks up with everyone and leaves them heartbroken. So be careful.”
The McLaren driver shrugs in response, keeping his eyes on the topic of the conversation. Something about her made him attracted to her. Possibly it was the way she would throw her head back when she laughed at a joke Lewis said or the way she’d flip back her long locks.
Lando simply couldn’t keep his eyes off her even when he was at the front of the dance floor in front of the DJ stand. Y/n had noticed him staring earlier at night and standing near him. The Brit signals her to come over to him.
Her red-painted lips curled into a smile, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached him. “You’ve been starin’ all night.” She says with a melodic laugh.
“Can’t help it when I see a girl like you.”
“You’re a special one, Lando Norris,” Y/n says with a raised brow and a smile. The Brit flashes her his signature smile as he pulls her closer by her waist.
The rest of Y/n’s night was spent by Lando's side, even while he was DJing. Even if girls tried to gain his attention, she stuck out and shone like a diamond. No one could get him to move his eyes from her.
Later that night, they were walking hand in hand back to his home. All it took was her batting her cartoon-like eyes for Lando to rush out of the club and drag her out. “So, what do you do for everyone to be obsessed with you?” The McLaren driver curiously asks.
Y/n lets out a laugh as she shakes her head. “Just street walking by night and a star by day, and y’know lookin’ for fun and gettin’ high for free.” She says with a shrug, her heels making clicking sounds as they hit the pavement with each step. “But trust me, you don’t want to get this way. It’s tiring.”
And she left it at that. Lando was still intrigued by her, thinking they had something special between them. He didn’t listen to what Max had told him and he invited Y/n to his hotel room where they spent a very restless and lust-filled night.
The bright sun shining in his eyes caused Lando to wake up with a groan. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up against the headboard. He turned to the side, expecting to see Y/n but instead saw an empty spot beside him.
She left without a trace. Her clothes, shoes, everything about her was gone like she had never come to his room. He makes a mumble of curses as he reaches for his phone, remembering how they exchanged numbers.
He immediately pressed on her contact. It led straight to voicemail.
Lando lets out a frustrated groan, now realizing what Y/n’s reply to his question meant. He finally understood why she was called Carmen after a certain song, since all the boys, the girls, were all obsessed with her exactly like how he felt.
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cameronspecial · 3 months
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I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao
So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind
You Deserve Better
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
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The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.
Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.
———
Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 
He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.
“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”
“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”
“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”
Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 
———
She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 
———
By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 
He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 
“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.
She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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selineram3421 · 7 months
Text
*giggles like a psycho*
First Day
Part 2
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Part 1
Alastor and Child Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ children (lol), reader being a menace ☺, blood/gore, ALL CAPS Bold red Italics = SOUND AFFECTS, red italics= Alastor's thoughts, fake crying, food mention(desserts), mention of murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, murder of test demon ⚠
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You saw the school bus and it was filled with shouts and screeches of other demon children. Making sure you of the item in your pocket, you readied yourself to begin the plan.
Stage one: Have some control over the school bus.
The door opened and you hop up the steps, the screams even louder now that you were inside.
It was absolutely unhinged.
I can do better. You thought, taking a quick glance to find a seat.
"Hurry up and sit down brat.", the bus driver yelled.
"Quiet before I cut you open.", you said to them without missing a beat and walked towards the back of the bus.
You were calm as the other children were acting like drug addicts.
One was bold enough to try and trip you with their leg out. Looking at them, you see that they have a cocky grin.
"Can you please move your leg? Its in the way.", you ask.
"No. Just go over it.", they laughed.
With a shrug you do just that, they try and lift their leg up higher to trip you but you jump at the last second and aim for their knee.
SNAP
They scream like bloody murder as they cry, grabbing the attention of the other children. All eyes are on you and the broken leg that's spewing out blood.
"I did ask nicely.", you say before continuing on your way to the open seat in the back.
Finally, you arrive at the school and find your classroom, now you were standing next to the teacher as your new classmates make a mess with paper planes and other items.
"Everyone SHUT UP! This is the new student.", the teacher Ms. Mayberry introduces you to the class. "Go on and say hello, then take the empty seat over in the middle."
You nod and smile as you face the children.
"Don't cross me or you might end up like Mikey!", you say cheerfully and go sit down.
Stage two: Assert dominance and be kind to those who are kind to you. *weed out any snakes*
.
Alastor got ready to pick up his little demon.
I wonder if they had fun. He thought before leaving the hotel.
On his way over, he picked up some pastries from their favorite bakery. Now the Radio Demon was just a few feet away from the gate that had a few lingering children, that's where he saw his little one waiting with the teacher who was smoking.
They spotted him and lit up.
"Alastor!", they cheered before running up.
The teacher had backed up a bit after noticing who he was.
"Good afternoon mon petite!", he said and picked them up. "Did you have a good time? Hm? Were there any pests?"
"I took care of it! But all of them went home alive.", they replied as he began walking back to the hotel. "Bye Ms. Mayberry!", they waved to their teacher.
They had started to tell him what happened on the school bus as they got closer to the hotel, that is when the deer demon reminded them to look sad.
"I don't think I can keep a straight face but I can still cry like I'm sad.", the little demon said. "I know what to do."
They hid their face on his shoulder and started shaking their shoulders, making convincing sniffles and sobs.
Alastor opened the hotel doors, finding the princess and her partner, one of them holding a cupcake.
"Oh no, what happened?", Charlie asked after noticing the little demon's shaking shoulders.
"There was a bully that harassed them today.", he answered and made his way over to the stairs, lifting up the bakery box. "I've already bought them sweets to cheer them up but you can leave the cupcake for dessert after dinner."
Once in the hotel room, he sets them down and put the box of sweets on the small table near the door.
"Wash your hands before getting your sweets.", he says before helping them take off their school bag.
"Ok!", they nod and run over to the bathroom.
Taking the box, the demon in red snaps his fingers to conjure some plates on the coffee table. He sets up the table before putting the pastries on the plates. Making sure to get their favorite cup for their drink.
They went to their room before coming back out with no coat and taking a seat on the couch.
"Now, tell me all about your day.", he said giving them a plate with a slice of cranberry pomegranate curd tart. "What kind of drink would you like with your sweets?"
They ask for their favorite drink and proceed to tell him about what happened after the "tripping" incident.
The deer demon prepares a cup of coffee while getting their drink.
"Some of the kids tried to act tough and pick a fight with me during reeses. The supervisors don't care if there's a fight as long as no one gets killed.", they said before taking a bite of the tart. "I broke a lot of bones today.", they add.
"Don't speak while chewing dear.", Alastor hands them a napkin, placing their cup next to their plate before sitting down.
They go into detail of all the injuries they caused with a wide smile. Telling him that they want to learn more tactics of intimidation to scare some of the staff.
"Finish your homework and I'll take you out so you can have hands on experience.", he says and sips his coffee.
"Really!?", they ask excited.
"Of course! Its the best way to learn."
After dinner (and their desert), they headed out and found a demon to test on.
"The best way to intimidate someone is through fear. Give them something that will always remind others not to try anything. Breaking the boy's leg was good, but remember that it is on school grounds that you cannot kill.", he says as both of them watch the test demon scream as they are being taken apart limb by limb. "Of course you have my permission to kill anyone that tries to kill or kidnap you. Or other terrible things.."
"Can I torture them a little bit?", they ask.
"Yes, but don't let your guard down.", the Radio Demon says, using the tendrils to rip the test demon's head off. "Remember mon petite, prey can bite back."
On the way back to the hotel, he got them a new plush, a small mouse to attach to their school bag.
"Mr. Squeaks."
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Tehe.
~Seline, the person.
Extra: Dessert image
Extra EXTRA: Art
Taglist@
@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @roo-bi @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
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zxvmp · 12 days
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FWB (Childe x Fem!Reader)
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tags: friends with benefits, unprotected sex, overstimulation, rough rex, use of childes real name, modern au, childes obsessed with you basically, breeding kink(?), childe likes family’s cmon
summary: your late night hook up turns out to be a session of messy feelings for one another
a/n: childe obsession is creeping up on me again…. um message me if you want me to write about anyone 😊
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It was a problem. Your late night hook-ups were supposed to be nothing more than fulfilling your needs and wants. You and Childe had been inseparable since elementary school. He was your best friend, and you were his.
You always thought he was attractive, but you didn’t say anything. That was until he made his move on you your sophomore year of high school. The two of you came to agreement that you should keep it unofficial for the time being. Nothing more than fuck buddies. Basically, friends with benefits.
Now, the problem was that you wanted to be more than that. Each time you made love with him, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper. He was like an addictive drug. You couldn’t get enough of him. It didn’t help it was the same situation from him. He loved you, but not in the way you wanted it.
He loved fucking you.
It hurt, but you didn’t want to loose your friendship with him. Other than fucking him, he was the person you told everything to. The person you cried on. The person you laughed with. He was everything you’d ever wanted.
You couldn’t lose him. Not when you were about to finish high school together. So, when you got your daily text from him asking to meet up, you didn’t hesitate on getting ready. You didn’t bother putting on a bra since it’d be taken off anyways.
As you slid on a hoodie he gave you, his scent filled your nose. A scent you’d never forget. A scent you loved. You didn’t bother dressing up cute, so you kept on your plaid pajama pants and slid on your Ugg slippers. It’s not like you were going out anywhere fancy.
You sent a text to him letting him know you were on your way as you started your car up. The drive was short considering how close the two of you lived.
Nobody Get Me by SZA played, which completely summarized your life with Childe. All of your friends told you it was an unhealthy situation you were in, but they didn’t understand. Childe took care of you and understood you in a way no one else could. Sure, he didn’t have feelings in a way you did for him, but that was okay. As long as you were near him, it’d be okay.
You let out a huge sigh before knocking on his front door. His parents’ cars weren’t in the driveway, so you guessed they went out to dinner. His parents were rich and always went out, which is why the two of you always hooked up at his place.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, you know?” Childe shot you his signature smirk as he leaned against the doorframe.
You eyed his muscular body that was dressed in nothing but grey sweats. His V-line peaked out of his waistband, already sending a wave of heat across your body.
“When do you not?” You tease, pushing past him. “You’ve been texting more often, something up?”
It was strange on how frequent Childe had been texting you to come over. Usually you’d come over about two times a week or so, but now it seems like he needs you everyday.
The front door closed. Soon after you could feel his hands resting on your hips as his head cradled in between your head and shoulders. He began to plant subtle kisses along your neck and jawline.
“..Ajax?” You whisper his name. Saying his real name always had an effect on him, and you knew it.
He paused and flipped you to where you were facing him. His eyes were filled with lust and need. “You’re on the pill right?”
You nodded.
In the blink of an eye, he was dragging you up the stairs and down the hallway towards his bedroom. Your back met his bed and his lips met yours. His hands were trapping your wrists on either side of your head, making you whine. You wanted to run your fingers through his soft ginger locks, feel his soft skin; you wanted to touch him.
His movements were frantic as he suck and bit on the skin of your neck. With each marking, you felt yourself getting more and more aroused. It was like he was marking you as his. Something you’ve always wanted, to be his.
“You have no idea, (Y/N)…”His hands left yours and traveled down towards the hem of your hoodie, “Raise your arms.”
You hesitantly obliged. You didn’t understand the first part of his sentence. The cold air attached to your exposed skin, making your nipples harden. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Normally you wouldn’t feel so different at your occasional hookups. But this wasn’t an occasional hookup. You could tell. His demeanor and mood was way different.
He muttered things under his breath as he took in the upper half of your body. “So beautiful,” he whispered, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead, “all mine.” His hands crept up your stomach, making butterflies form with each inch he gained. Once they reached your breast, he began to fondle them and continue marking your skin.
Your thoughts were all over the place. He was driving you more crazy than he regularly did. His touches became more rough, making you gasp.
“Say it, say you’re mine (Y/N).”
Your panties were beyond soaked at this point. One more move from him and you might as well come undone.
“I’m yours, Ajax.”
What was going on didn’t seem real. Did he mean what he said? Or was he just so horny he was spouting out nonsense.
Your shorts and panties were ripped off of you and tossed to the floor. Childe’s eyes traveled from yours down to your soaked entrance. He ran his middle finger up and down your slit before inserting two of his slender fingers.
Soft moans escaped your mouth from each thrust of his fingers. Childe was enjoying every bit of it. His dick twitched with every sound or move you made. The way you chased your high by grinding against his fingers was what really did it.
Your release coated his fingers as he pulled out of your hole. It was so filthy, watching him lick his fingers clean. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. Your lips were slightly parted and your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace.
Even with the delicious orgasm Childe always manage to rip from you with his fingers, his dick was a thousand times better. You and him both knew that.
He wasted no time in ridding himself of his sweatpants and freeing his cock from his boxers. Precum leaked from his tip as he fisted his erection a couple times. You expected him to get up to grab a condom from his nightstand, but he didn’t. Instead, he began to rub his dick between your folds, gathering your slick.
“You’re not gonna grab a condom?”
He shook his head, “I want to feel all of you tonight. No barriers, yeah?”
Him fucking you raw was always a dream of yours for years. The two of you always used a condom. He said it’d be more safer, even though you were already on the pill.
“Well?” He began to prod at your entrance, teasing you.
“..Yes.” You panted out, overwhelmed with him and your feelings.
His hips snapped forwards. You could feel every vein and muscle of him inside of you. It felt way better this way. Like he belonged there.
The two of you groaned in union at the feeling. Childe was holding on by mere strings from how tightly you wrapped around him. It felt so good. You eventually relaxed, which allowed him to set a solid pace.
“Fuck, you feel so good around me,” His hands intertwined with yours on either side of your head, which made your heart swoon.
His pace increased, and he began thrusting at an even deeper angle. Your interlocked fingers tightened around his as you moaned.
Childe was so focused on the way your expressions changed with each roll of his hips. He loved it. He loved how your nose scrunched up when you were coming close to your high.
Ever since the two of you started fucking, he’d pick up on everything and anything. What felt good and what didn’t, what sent you over the edge, and most importantly, your limit.
You had a high sex drive like him, which made him like you even more than he already did. He didn’t know when he started to develop feelings for you. Maybe they were always there and he just didn’t know it. Whatever the case was, he was unbelievably obsessed. With you, with your body, your voice, your hair, everything.
“Ah—Ajax!”
Your screams snapped him out of his trance. A white ring had formed at the base of his dick and you looked like a complete mess. He made you come without even realizing it. However, he wasn’t done. He wanted to make you his that night. And to do that, he wanted you going dumb on his cock. The only thought that was going to be on your mind was him. Nothing else.
His hands left yours and took place on your hips. Gripping your sides in a way he knew it was going to bruise. The air was knocked from your lungs when his hips snapped forward.
“You’re so perfect,”Childes voice was low. “perfect for me.”
Broken sobs of pleasure was the only sound you could make. Your mind was foggy and your eyes struggled to stay open. You could feel your conscience slip away from you with each thrust.
Childe was in awe. He watched as his dick disappeared into you, how it formed a bulge in your tummy when he was balls deep. It was beautiful to him.
You had lost count from how many times you came. It shocked you on how much stamina he always had in bed.
His pace hadn’t slowed the moment he entered you. You clawed at his back and tugged on his hair as you moaned his name. You knew you needed a break, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. He felt so good ramming his and your release back into you.
Childe leaned down and rested his head on your shoulder, “I love you.”
Your eyes rolled back and for what felt like the tenth time that night, your orgasm took over your body. This one was much stronger than the others. Your body shook violently as your cum coated his cock. Nothing but ringing could be heard. Your vision was blurry and you could feel your body tingle all over.
Another harsh thrust of Childes hips snapped you back awake, “Say it back.”
Tears fell from your eyes from both pain and pleasure, “I love you! Fuck, I love you, Ajax!”
Your words made him feral. With a thrust, he emptied his load into you, coating your walls white. The two of you caught your breaths for a while before Childe pulled out of you.
If you weren’t so drained of your energy, you would’ve gotten up to take a shower, but your entire body was numb. Childe said something to you, but you were too tired to listen. You fell asleep and decided to talk to him about things in the morning.
~~
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wutheringcaterpillar · 2 months
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I’ll Always Be Your Boy
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Summary: Tommy reminisced back to his lost love, his first and only love. It had been years since he’s seen you, and one night when he pulls into your driveway, it all becomes too much for far too long. He needed to be reunited with you, even if the cost was his life.
Warnings: Suicide, drug addiction (opium), trauma, flashbacks, mentions of death, mention of tommy’s mom, mention of miscarriage
Partially inspired by the song below, be prepared with tissues y’all🥹
The brisk midnight air rolled in through the foggy car window as he pulled into the rocky driveway, still trying to figure out what the fuck he was doing here. Tommy hadn’t seen you in years but yet you still crossed his mind, he still worried about you even though he had taken the most vulnerable part of you and shattered it into a million tiny pieces. Now here he was staring at the damaged, once white house that he once promised to fix up before the argument. The wooden fencing now fading, the deteriorating paint now detailing the uncut grass, green vines covering the width.
Pulling out his cigarettes, he brushed the unflamed end over his plush, chilled lips.
The trees bristled, whistling and bellowing through the atmosphere, scattering leaves around the yard.
Tommy thought back to a a particular afternoon, reminiscing the way you laughed when he tripped and fell into a mud puddle, the way you smiled brightly whenever he would partake in hobbies you enjoyed such as creating masterful works of art out of chalk on the stoned sidewalk. 
You were graceful, mesmerizing everything Tommy could’ve asked for in a woman, most of all you cared for him. Making him soup when he was feeling ill, running a warm bath to a temperature of his liking, knowing how to calm him from an angry fit or a stressful day. 
God did he miss you, he’d do anything for the chance to take it all back, to treat you kindly and cherish you, give you anything your little ecstatic heart desired, but he fucked it up and he blamed himself every second of every passing day.
He wished and prayed that you knew there was no moving on, you held his heart and he was still that boy you fell in love with all that time ago.
A day hadn’t passed where he didn’t think of you but times were becoming tough. The business was failing, any woman that approached him, he simply ignored, only wanting you back.
Stepping out of the car, he approached the house ignoring the silhouettes of storm clouds rolling in accompanied by a deep, rumbling thunder. 
Scanning the rooms, he stopped near the kitchen doorway, glancing at the stove where he had partaken in baking sweets with you. He didn’t like desserts himself but what you made you happy made him happy, and he’d always at least taste whatever you made. He would try to help, to assist in rolling dough, gathering ingredients and putting trays in the oven but you always shoved him playfully away after burning a batch of baked goods, putting him instead on the job of decorating. 
Smiling softly, he carried on, stopping every now and then as he walked down the crooked, abandoned hallway, glancing at the dusty photos that still stay portrayed on the walls.
A photo of your first date in a milkshake shack, splitting a chocolate shake while giggling with one another, this was just moments before you had convinced him to go rollerblading and he can still say to this day, that was the most fun he’s ever had, for some reason it made him feel alive.
As he carried on scanning the house, he’d heard objects moving while the abandoned floor boards creaked. He could see the shapes of shadows in the distance but he didn’t feel scared or endangered. Perhaps it was you.
“It’s just me love, nothing to be afraid of.” He wished he could see you, he had missed you tremendously but still blamed himself for your death. He should’ve been there, he could’ve stopped it, and now he was reaping the consequences with a broken heart.
When he approached his final destination, he was greeted with a hole in the rickety old door, flashing back to the time where you’d had your first and last fight over what now seemed to be a pointless event, an event he regretted. If he had knew that would be the last time he saw you, the final thing he’d said to you, the frigid, cold words would’ve never escaped his lips, and he knew very well that the argument was a misunderstanding.
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Dragging his feet over to the bed, he removed a bottle of opium from his jacket. That was the only thing getting him through this. He had tried to off himself multiple times, just wanting to see you once more, they even had to confine him in the draft which was nearly unheard of.
Pulling out a needle, he punctured his arm after increasing the dose. Almost instantly he could feel his thoughts slowing, a euphoric rush running through his veins causing him to feel tired and lay down on the abandoned bed. The awful fight replaying in his mind.
Bursting through the door, you jumped in the sitting position of your bed, the book in your lap tumbling down onto the floor from being startled. 
Tommy stood in the doorway, bottle of whiskey in hand with drenched, disheveled hair from the pouring rain.
“Where have you been? I needed you, and you weren’t there!” Tears brimmed at your eye lids seeing him in this state, knowing that you should’ve been there but you couldn’t. 
Standing up while the tears streamed like a river down your heated cheeks, you closed the door and turned to Tommy.
His angelic blue eyes had a clear perception of pain, himself also crying. Tommy never asked you for anything, not once.
“Y’know not everything is about you, maybe if you stopped and looked around every once in awhile you’d realize that but I guess it was stupid on my part to believe you ever truly loved me. You are just a selfish girl, and I can’t believe that for a moment I thought you gave a shit about me.” You tugged at his arm, begging and pleading for him to hear your side of the story as to why you weren’t present at his mother’s funeral but he wouldn’t listen. Hearing your excuses only fueled the anger and extreme upset inside of him but he didn’t know you were dealing with a loss of your own.
“Listen to me, please! I love you Tommy I do, you just don’t understand I-“
“No, no don’t do that. You don’t get to do that I have a crystal clear understanding that I can’t be with someone who doesn’t and never has given a shit about me. Enjoy your life Y/N, because I’m not sure if I want to be in it anymore if all it’s going to be is excuses. I really thought you were different, but you’re just like any other useless whore.” Slamming his fist through the door in aggravation and immense upset, the sound echoed through the house. His words stung like a bee, a sharp and direct hit to your heart.
The following morning Tommy woke from a deep slumber, arm reaching for you only to realize you weren’t there, half of the bed was empty.
He had regretted those things he said, he should have heard you out but all of his withheld emotions came crashing down on him like a hurricane. 
Getting up and dressed, he decided the best way to apologize was to go and retrieve your favorite flowers and take you out on the town. He could be such an ass sometimes but he was still learning. 
Heading to the kitchen Pol was shocked to see him out of bed, bright eyes and bushie tailed, dressed to the tens.
“I’m surprised you’re up so early given the events of last night. If you need anything don’t be frightened to reach out Thomas, we all need a little help sometimes. Sweet girl she was.” 
“Who are you talking about? If it was that Lee girl I’m not surprised, bat shit crazy she was.” Tommy poured himself a cup of tea, adding only cream before reaching for the paper and sitting at the kitchen table.
“No one told you?” Tommy looked at his aunt confused while taking a sip of his tea. Pol relaxed her tone knowing full well this would break her nephew’s heart. With sympathetic eyes, she settled her hand atop of his.
“There was a fire last night. Y/N didn’t make it.” Tommy froze, this couldn’t possibly be true. Pol could see the panic and disbelief in Tommy’s baby blue eyes. When she tried to walk over and console him, he bolted for the door needing to see for himself.
In a fiery fit of anger and sadness he sped over to your house, seeing the damage that has been done. In that moment his heart shattered into a million pieces and he punched the steering wheel repeatedly.
“Fuck!” The thick walls of his mind were closing. If he had controlled his temper, he would’ve been there, he would’ve been able to pull you out of the fire and save the most important piece of his heart. Why you? Why not him? He had nothing to live for without you. He never even got the chance to apologize.
The only thing that seemed to be intact was your car parked in the grass near the mailbox. Stumbling out of his car, he needed to know, know what it was you weren’t telling him that day. What it was he didn’t even give you a chance to say.
Rummaging through clothes, and misplaced papers and pens, he opened the glove box only to find something that changed everything the day of his mother’s funeral.
Pulling out the small piece of paper, his hands trembled as he stared down at the ultrasound of what would have been your bundle of joy. 
All of your emotions from that day seemed to seep into his mind. You must’ve been so scared, felt so alone. Why didn’t you tell him?
Flipping the paper over he noticed writing.
TIME OF DEATH: 11:25 am.
11/20/1913 
10 weeks old.
You had miscarried just two hours before the funeral and he was too busy shouting out you to know. The tears sprang freely, his heart aching as he wept in the passenger seat feeling the world crashing down him, accompanied by the profound loss of someone he loved.
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As the opium kicked in, he lay his dreary, spinning head onto the singed pillow, clenching his fists in what was left of your crisp sheets.
His eyes became heavy, limbs weak while his head span in a euphoric frenzy. Your face flashed through his mind, memories and moments shared together. 
The sun was rising through the window peering in through the burnt curtains as Tommy’s vision became blurry and he could see sparkling orbs forming aside him a figure kneeling on the floor with what looked to be a child.
“Come daddy, mommy’s waiting.” The young girl’s voice was subtle, calming. She lay her delicate small hand on her father’s.
Through his clouded perception he could see she had his bright blue eyes and your facial features. She was beautiful just like her mother.
Beads of sweat formed upon his temple, the rush taking over his body bringing a sense of tranquility. Just before he stopped breathing, your voice spoke melodically through his head, bringing a sense of comfort.
“I’m here now. You can let go. We’ve been waiting for you.” He had never felt more at ease then he did now, drifting off into unconsciousness, awaiting his sweet descent into his lover’s arms being reunited as a family, forever content.
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diejager · 5 months
Text
First Cw: Smut, sex work, porn, cam girl, dildo, riding, dildo mount, self-hate, depressive thought?, whorshiping, tell me if I missed any.
Part 4
He watched your live, your body writhing in your sheets, back arched and head thrown back in pleasure. His body unmoving, body rigid underneath his armour, eyes unblinking and back straightening against the backrest, as he stared at his screen. He never touched himself when he watched you from afar, eyeing your hips rolling against the mount you strapped to a pillow, riding the dildo you suctioned to the plastic stand.
You rode it slowly, chest heaving while you ran your hands over your breasts in a sensual way, your finger running over your glossy lips, caressing your jaw and down the curve of your throat, your sweaty and shimmering skin. Your hands travelled down the valley of your tits, pinching your perky nipples with painted nails, a pretty red, powerful and vibrant —sexy in every manner. His eyes followed the hand that dipped down your stomach, over your slick mound and spreading your lips to show your viewers the silicone cock that stretched you out.
His hot breath sounded loudly behind his mask, it would've fogged up his glass if he wore any, his laboured breathing coming out in shoulder-moving puffs. His cruel eyes dilated, pupil rounder than usual as his eyes stuck obsessively at your cunt, his ears ringing with the loud, echoing squelch of your cunt and the eerie silence of his locked room, and body strained with self-restraint, fingers curled into a fist. He felt dazed, mind numbed to all but you and what you brought out of him: his slurred reaction, his oversensitive nerves and his increased heat.
You were like a drug to him —addiction, ascension, delirium. Your mewls breaching his broken mind and your bouncing body burning itself into his eyes, hearing and watching you gush around the toy, cunt fluttering wildly as you shuddered, hair sticking to your forehead and skin flushed. Despite his growing needs, the swelling that tightened his pants to an uncomfortable extent, he made no move to chase it, to soothe the pain and ache that filled his body, like a wave crashing against his scarred and disfigured body, and the wind blowing him away like the insignificant specks of sand that caked the earth.
He wouldn’t touch himself after the show, sending you money for the perfect show and drowning himself in a freezing shower to wash off the sin, his greatest mistake of loving something so precious and beautiful. He let his cock grow soft under the water, the occasional jump of his cock reacting to the arousal that still lingered in his bloodstream and the coolness of the water.
He couldn’t help himself, he promised, he fought, he glared, but nothing could stop a wandering mind, a needy and vulnerable shell of a broken man that wanted nothing but a fleeting moment of love, of affection —of utter devotion.
“Hello?” The voice was as sweet as the last time he heard it, the softness and affection that deepened his scars, “Nikto?”
“Милая,” his voice came out in a low rasp, throat dried and muscle dehydrated. He spent too much time hiding himself than caring for himself, “You did well.” [Sweetheart]
You laughed, your gentle and angelic chuckle at his compliment —fitting the stage name you used, Seraphim. He was reminded again why talking to you felt like a sin, blasphemy committed by him to his goddess. Perhaps he shouldn’t have called, daring to be so near a being much greater than him, pure and fragile. For all his self-restraint, he was a weak, weak man, always chasing for more when he’s already lost so much.
“Thank you,” you sighed. He heard sheets shuffle, your body rolling to your stomach, face propped up on your chin while he spoke to you on the phone, “When are you coming back?”
“Cкоро.” [Soon.]
Part 6
Taglist: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan @blackhoodlea @daisychainsinknots @under-the-dirt @moansteur @iamnotfinedaddy @0alk0msan @katzarantos @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @artemeow @nes-kopi @notspiders @waves-against-a-cliff @brokenpieces-72 @princessboohaloo @petwifed @craxy-person  @aldis-nuts @randominstake @yanderestory @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @redeveryflower @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @cummunistcat
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legitalicat · 3 months
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Too Sweet - Modern!Aegon Targaryen ii x reader
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AN: Hello my beautiful people! I hope you enjoy this story. It started as a little love note to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier because I feel it's very Aegon coded. It then became kind of an amalgamation of a few different stories. My own story and journey with alcoholism and recovery played a big part in this, and as I wrote it parts of my feelings about my older brother, who is in active addiction, came into play. Please know that this is not everyone's story. Recovery from addiction looks different for most everyone. I truly overcame my addiction through building community and connections. I know many people who have to work a program to succeed. I know a person who actually did get a degree after a near lifetime of addiction and now he does a lot of things to help our local community in treating addiction. So really, this is a love letter to people like me and my brother. There is hope and I believe in every one of you.
Link to the TED Talk mentioned.
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TW: blatant talks of alcoholism and substance abuse, talks of rehab, family issues, abusive family subtext yet never explicitly stated, gonna say it's kinda angsty, FLUFF
Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x reader
Word count: almost 3k
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The soft pads of her feet made barely any noise as she walked into his bedroom, carrying a mug in each hand and wearing nothing but his MCR tee-shirt. Technically, they should both be in a deep sleep by now. It was fast approaching four in the morning and neither of them had bothered to close their eyes once. It was all he could to not hold her close in bed and stare at her captivating beauty.
When Aegon first saw her, weeks ago, he was stunned. It was the first time he had gone to the new bar right down the road from his apartment and it just so happened it was karaoke night. He had been tempted to turn around when he heard a horrendous rendition of his favorite Hozier song. But then she took the mic from her drunken friend, and it was as if the heavens parted and the gods showed him the future Mrs. Aegon Targaryen.
“Your coffee, sir,” she said to him as she handed him a mug. “No worries, it’s as black as your soul,” she added with a teasing grin.
“Thank you, beautiful,” he said as he took the mug from her.
She was truly a lesson in divinity for him. Aegon didn’t truly believe she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. There would be people who would think she was average looks, maybe even less than that, but he didn’t need her to be more beautiful than anyone else. He wanted her exactly as she was. Beautiful like a spring day, teeming with beauty in the most natural of ways. Like one would think of a cherry blossom tree, or their favorite flower. Simple and breathtaking, a reminder of life and truth on a fundamental level.
He knew it the moment they locked eyes in that bar. Her voice shook from nerves as she sang in front of the crowd of strangers. When she looked at him, and he at her, he felt joyful for the first time in years. All of the stupid shit with his family, the years of drowning his sorrows in whiskey and wine and any other drug, none of it mattered.
If he were honest, he couldn’t remember how he got so lucky. He knew he approached her once she was done singing and complimented her. By the end of the night she was nestled beside him in bed, and he’d be damned if he ever let her leave.
“Gods, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he watched her. He knew she was drinking hot chocolate, finding the taste of coffee much too bitter.
“What was that?” she asked him when she pulled the mug away from her face. She had a bit of whipped cream on her upper lip, making his heart feel like it was on the brim of exploding.
He leaned forward, just barely, and lifted his hand to wipe the cream away with his thumb. She gave him a cute little smile when it brushed against her lips, puckering them to press a kiss to his skin. When he pulled his hand away and sucked the cream off, he heard her giggle.
“This is why you’re so sweet. Where most people drink whiskey and coffee, you put sugar in your sugar and drink it until the sun comes up,” he told her. Of course, he was teasing her.
“Because unlike you, Mr. Listen to Sad Music Even When I’m Happy, I like to enjoy things. The good things. The sweet things, like whipped cream and hot chocolate and fruit loops in bed on Saturday mornings. I just think I live a better life than you,” she told him. She was grinning from ear to ear.
If Aegon wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would tell her how he loved her. He loved that she wanted to eat sweets at all times. He loved that she teased him for listening to My Chemical Romance or Asking Alexandria, calling it all sad music, even when she would listen right alongside him. He loved that she would start crying at the Wonka movie near the end, unashamed about feeling overwhelmed by the backstory.
If he weren’t so afraid she didn’t love him, he would tell her. He knew it had only been a few weeks, that all logic points to love at first sight being nothing more than him just getting turned on by her appearance. But how could he not love her when she sat in bed with him like this after making him a cup of coffee before the sun had even risen? How could one resist the gentleness of her touch when they watched TV together and she insisted on holding his hand? How could he be expected to watch her hyper fixate on a book or a video game, talking about it for hours on end with so much passion she always ended up wound up and breathless?
“You’re too sweet for me,” he told her as he laid back against the head board. He gently pulled her into his side, wanting to have her as close as humanly possible.
His words were met with an amused chuckle. She didn’t fight his hold on her, instead melting into him as though it was where she had always been.
“Tell me about your family,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’ve not been further than ten feet from you for weeks and you haven’t said the first word about them.”
He could feel his jaw clench as she asked him. His family was a complicated and sensitive subject. Even though he wished he never had to speak to her about them, he knew he had to if he had any hopes of them becoming more than just a passion fueled fling.
“Not much to really say. Dad ran Draconic Industries. My older sister, Rhaenyra, is my dad’s daughter with his first wife. He made her next in line to take over the business. Me, my younger siblings, even my mom, we never really mattered much to dear old dad. He died when I was nineteen. I don’t really matter much to any of the rest of them,” he told her, tracing shapes on her bare thigh as he spoke.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said quickly.
“It is,” he told her without any uncertainty. “Helaena, my younger sister, hasn’t spoken to me in a few years either. I haven’t spoke to my youngest brother Daeron since we were kids. And my brother Aemond…he was the last to hold out hope for me and I burned that to the ground a long time ago. I think it’s been at least a year. My mom completely disowned me about four years ago, when I was around twenty-two, cause I refused to go to rehab again.”
She frowned softly but said nothing. He could only imagine what was going through her head at this point. If roles were reversed, he would probably be planning his exit strategy. All it felt like he told her was a sob story about a poor rich kid who can’t live off mommy and daddy anymore. He felt pathetic.
“What did you go to rehab for?” she asked him.
“Started partying when I was like twelve. Alcoholic by age fourteen. Lead to worse shit, as it does, and I overdosed when I was eighteen on some coke. My mom and grandfather checked me into rehab the following week. Have done two more stints since. Never really stuck, and I haven’t been sober for more than a few days since I was like fifteen.”
He was laying in all our there for her. He wanted her to know so she could decide if she thought he was worth the trouble. He couldn’t blame her if she ran away from him. Why would she stick around? All of his family had washed their hands of him and they were family. She was just someone he met in a bar a few weeks before.
She stayed quiet for a long time. Longer than he would’ve liked. The silence weighed on his heart like an elephant pressing against his chest. He wanted to beg her to say something, anything, just so he knew where her head was at.
Though, he noticed, she didn’t move away from him. She stayed right there, comfortable tucked into his side, occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. His own mug, still filled with coffee, had gone near forgotten in his hand. He was too focused on her.
“You know, the opposite of addiction is connection. Watched a TED Talk one time about it. They found when addicts are treated like people instead of criminals, integrating them into society instead of isolating them, they show less of a struggle with addictions. Allow their basic needs to be met, give them a community, and they thrive,” she said softly after several moments.
She sat up, her warmth leaving him. He felt lonely without her touching him even though she was still well within arm’s reach. She was all he wanted, all he needed.
“I’m not saying I can fix you. I’m not saying the cure to all your problems is me giving my heart to you. I am, however, telling you that I haven’t once seen you drunk or high or anything and we basically haven’t been apart in weeks. If you want to develop healthy connections, create a community, be a person, I am more than willing to be part of it,” she said.
His heart started beating rapidly against his chest. He knew she was right. Since being with her, he hadn’t really felt the need for anything. He had physical cravings, sure, but no mental desire. Aegon didn’t want a moment with her to be a hazy memory that he may be able to recall when he's older.
“Why?” he asked her.
“Because I love you,” she said.
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The weeks and months following that night, Aegon really put in the work. Y/N had made it clear to him that she was not going to just give him everything. If he wanted this, it was on him. She was only helping him.
Together, they had found a group therapy program for him. It was ran by a man who had gotten his psychology degree a few years before, but had struggled with addiction for most of his life. That was the first step, a step Aegon felt proud he had taken once he realized he didn’t feel so alone anymore.
The next step, he decided on by himself. The group program was all well and good, but he felt a need to find a deeper explanation into himself. Once a week he found himself sitting in a therapist’s office, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They spoke about his family, his self imposed isolation from them and how that lead to them cutting off, his hopes and dreams for the future.
Through this, he found out about opportunities for volunteer work in the community. He realized he quite liked working at the local secondhand store that helped people in need. He even brought her with him on the Saturdays he worked a shift, turning it into something they enjoyed together.
Even at work, he began reaching out more. If the opposite of addiction was connection, then by the gods he was going to make connections. His coworkers were enough to give him a good laugh. All of them were extremely proud of the progress he made, always encouraging him. He found that little bit alone made it easier for him to be more himself. In the conversations he was able to have with his coworkers, he talked about shows, movies, and music he liked and became friends with a few of them.
It was with this progress, along with the support Y/N provided, that Aegon found himself at the door of his family’s estate. He hadn’t been here in years. He knew all of his younger siblings still lived here. Helaena’s bright yellow VW Beetle sat parked in the driveway, Aemond’s motorcycle probably laid in parts in the garage, and Daeron had always been more content taking a town car than actually driving himself anywhere.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Y/N told him as she held his hand tightly. He had asked her to come with him so she could at least meet them. They needed to see how he had changed.
“I do have to. If for no other reason than to show them I’m not who they remember me to be,” he told her.
“Did you talk to Dr. Wilson about this? I mean, I just, I don’t want you to,” she said, trying desperately to find the right words. He silenced her with a kiss to her forehead.
“And I love you for it,” he said to her, holding her hand as tightly as she held his. “I’m okay with whatever happens in there.”
He knocked hard on the door. It wasn’t long before his mother answered. The ever looming presence of Alicent Hightower, never Targaryen, filled the entire space of the door frame. Her auburn curls were tied neatly back into a bun, her brown eyes widened in surprise.
The woman before him, despite being in her forties, showed no true signs of aging. There were no gray hairs scattered around her head, no fine lines or wrinkles. The only indication of a less than flawless appearance were the almost invisible lines that came from the outer corners of her eyes, put there by the fact that just like Aegon, her eyes would always squint up whenever she smiled.
“Aegon,” she said quietly. She looked at him like she saw a ghost.
“Hi, mom. Can we come in?” he asked her, biting his lip. Y/N gave his hand a small squeeze as if to remind him she was with him. He had her support every step of the way.
Alicent nodded silently and stepped to the side, allowing them entrance. The house was the same as the last time he was here. All of the old family photos hung on the walls of the hallway to the living room. The air smelled of cedar wood and spiced apples, giving it the perpetual scent of fall. It was warm and inviting, the plush couch so comfortable beneath him it was almost indicative of how much money his mother spent on it.
In a lot of ways, the house felt like his family. It was the epitome of warmth and love on first glance. When you looked closer, you could see how some of the picture frames were void of glass, having been broken in one family argument or another. There was a coat the hung on the same rack, day in and day out, hiding the hole where his head went through the wall in a drunken stupor. The paint on the walls were beginning to chip away, revealing the yellowing walls that proved how much his dad had liked to smoke. It was haunted, irreversibly scarred by the past.
A maid came around and asked the three of them if they wanted a drink. Alicent requested a glass of wine. Aegon noticed how surprised she looked when he just asked for a soda, like Y/N was having. He also noticed how she kept looking at his hand that held Y/N’s.
“And who is this?” She asked, nodding her head to Y/N.
“This is the woman I’m going to marry, Y/N,” he said confidently.
They hadn’t spoken about it, there wasn’t a ring on her finger. But he had no doubt in his mind that he would marry her. He was certain that she was who he was made for. The gods had her in mind when they designed him, knowing how much he would love her. She truly was his soulmate.
“And so you came to show her how terrible we all are?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. “Or did you come for money? Because you’re not getting a dime.”
“Neither,” he said firmly. “I just wanted you to see me, mom. I wanted to see you.”
She was surprised at his words. The last time he had spoken to her, he had been begging for money. Crying, begging. When she refused, trying to help him in the best way she knew how, he screamed at her about all of her faults. The last words he spoke to her was how he could only hope that he had the courage to kill himself before he turned into her.
“I’m sorry for…for everything,” he told her. “It wasn’t fair of me to blame everything on you.” Y/N squeezed his hand again. He looked down at their hands and he knew he was okay. He would be okay. “I’m like, eight months sober from everything. Not a drop of booze, no drugs. I have a full time job, I volunteer on the weekends at a secondhand store. I’m doing good, mom.”
Tears flooded to her eyes as she looked at him. Her oldest son, the first person she ever truly loved in a selfless manner. She had thought he was completely lost to her. The vicious creature he had been when they last saw each other had melted away entirely.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked him. He could only wordlessly nod, allowing her the time to stand from her chair and walk over to him. She hugged him tighter than she ever had.
He looked over Alicent’s shoulder at Y/N. The woman he loved was watching him with tears of her own, a smile on his face. She was good, too good, for him. She had opened his eyes to a reality he had been scared to face. But she had never once made him face it alone.
And that made all the difference.
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soxcietyy · 5 months
Text
Addicted to you
Yuta x reader Aged up
Two academics rivals see eachother at a frat party. Little does the other person know how badly he wanted you.
It takes him not even a second to recognize you by the faint sound of your laugh. Even with the loud music blaring into his ears he wouldn’t be able to miss such a sound. His eyes scanned the room full of people as he searched for you. Looking at every person until he found those beautiful eyes of yours. There you were, standing in thoes dirty tennis shoes you always wore. Standing in a cute tight dress that suited you perfectly. With a red solo cup in your hand as you laughed and danced with your friends.
"Yuta! Pass me the bottle next to you." Someone yelled trying to get his attention.
He grabbed the closest alcohol bottle and handed it to whoever asked for it. He didn’t bother to turn to look at them because he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you as much as he wanted to. He was surprised to see you here. A person who was an academic achiever, who wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat party. Someone who held themselves at such a high standard and would supposedly never snoop down so low. What could you doing here at all places? Especially on a school night.
His breath hitched when the both of you made eye contact from across the room. Your bright eyes quickly turning into glaring ones.
The both of you had some sort of rivalry going on. An academic rivalry if he had to be exact. Both of you had a few of the same classes together due to you guys being in the same major. You and Yuta were the top in all the classes you shared. Sometimes you would score higher or sometimes it was the other way around. This all started since high school and it carried out to junior year in college.
It didn’t help that your teachers would put you guys up against each other every time. He remembered how back then you guys were best friends. You would go out to eat, hang out, and study together. Now every time you were near each other tension could be sensed. If he had to be honest he hated it. He missed how you guys used to be and missed being around you. Everything about you was so perfect and yet you hated his guts.
Why did people have to put you up against each other? Why did they have to convince you that he was a bad guy.
He wanted to show you how much you meant to him. How much he thinks about you daily. How much he misses you and needs you so badly because he’s never met anyone like you. He didn’t want anyone but you.
He would ask around to figure out the classes you were going to take. Your schedule for the semester, when you would go out to eat or go to the library. He made sure that you would know he was also there but make it seem like a coincidence.
You had no idea how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.
He lazily threw his head back as he took a shot that his friend handed to him. Hopefully it was enough to give him some courage to approach you. When everything went down he threw the cup onto the table and started making his way to you. Maybe the shot was a bad idea because he had already been drinking for a while. Plus he was already feeling it by the time he made to you.
You didn’t seem to notice him until your friends tapped your shoulder. When you did you frowned at the sight of him. He looked at you with his dark eyes intensely before stumbling a bit. You roll your eyes realizing he was drunk.
"Go back from where you came from Yuta. Dont tell me you came to boast about your recent exam grade. I don’t have time for you to ruin my night." You say as you turn back around to your friends.
Your scent hit him as you turned around making him want you more. Fuck a drug or alcohol addiction, your scent was his worst addiction and he was afraid he would act up because of it. Sadly the alcohol in his system made him act upon his thoughts. He wrapped his arms around you as he buried his face into the back of your head. He took a big whiff of your smell as your body suddenly tensed.
"Yuta?! What do you think you’re doing?” You say as you try to get his arms to release you.
"M’ so sorry, I don’t want to ruin your night but I need you so bad." He said as he hugged you tighter.
You could hear as your friend giggled and awed about Yutas actions. You had no idea if he was drunk or accidentally got something slipped into his drink. He must be confusing you for some other chick because when would Yuta Okkotsu be interested in you?
You somehow manage to slip out of his arms and grab him by the face.
"You want me to call you an Uber? You’re going to be embarrassed tomorrow when you find out that you were saying all this stuff to me. Can’t believe you mistook me for someone else." You say as you pull out your phone.
Your eyes were forced to look back up while trying to get onto the Uber app. He looked at your face for what seemed like a minute trying to figure out who you were.
"No, I could never mistake y/n" he said as he swayed a bit.
You looked at him stunned at what just came out his mouth. Before you could say anything he leaned in and kissed you on the lips. It was a long kiss that turned into a full on make out session. You could taste the drinks that he had been consuming tonight. You could also taste how desperate he was to be kissing you. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you in closer. One of his hands grabbing onto your chin so he could have you in the perfect possession.
You melted into his embrace as the kissing kept going. He was going at it non stop until you pushed him away from a breath of fresh air. When you did he decided you attacked your neck by smooching all over it.
"Oh he’s so going to be embarrassed tomorrow." You heard your friend say only to realize that she had recorded the whole interaction.
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2kiran · 1 year
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“I CAN BE A BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM”
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pairing: könig x reader genre: smut, light angst reader is a male. dom!reader x sub!könig cw: lowercase typing, jealousy, implied fwb, german words, slight thigh riding, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, anal sex, slight overstimulation, mentions of threesome a/n: i changed my theme and layout are u proud of me
könig can’t stand seeing you with another guy, especially with your lieutenant.
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könig seethed from the corner, his gaze on you and your lieutenant. his arms were crossed and his head hung low. his eyes peeked from his hood, eyebrows furrowed and hands balled into tight fists.
his eye twitched, watching intently on your amused expression. a smile on your lips before a cackle erupts, most likely to one of ghost’s terrible jokes. he didn’t enjoy this feeling. he wanted to be the only one that could make you happy. what made his anger worse, was it being your lieutenant that you were with. he found ghost attractive, so why wouldn’t you?
he was near tears. it overwhelmed him how his anger threatened to overcome his entire soul. he was careful not to let any of his personal feelings interfere with his work, but you always tore the façade. he opted to protect you in every mission you were on with him, almost forgetting about your teammates. he hated how you simmered underneath his nerves only to end his anger as quick as it began. another cackle of yours snapped him to the present, seeing you put your hand on ghost’s shoulder.
he wanted to strangle the lieutenant right there, but he knew there’s a high possibility of you hating him once he does that. he knew that you weren’t his, but he was yours and he made sure he wasn’t going to give up his spot so easily. he made it obvious to you that he was wrapped around your finger, metaphorically and literally, with the amount of times he begged to suck on your fingers while you fuck him from behind.
he knew that you weren’t his, but he couldn’t help acting like you were. the thought of you being with another man didn’t sit right with him. he can treat you better than anyone else you laid your pretty eyes upon. no one else can be as good for you as him.
glaring eyes follow the lieutenant’s movements, watching as the man finally leaves. you turned around, facing the colonel’s direction. you had an eyebrow raised, attempting your best not to let a smirk take place on your lips. he suddenly grabbed your forearm, practically dragging you to one of the hallways soldiers barely visit. he pinned you to the wall, hot breath going through his mask and onto your face. you were like a world-altering drug; his drug. you were his addiction, and he knew that he couldn’t overcome you. he whispered your name as if it was a prayer and you were the god who responded. “something wrong, colonel?” you teased.
he buried his head on your shoulder, taking a whiff of your scent. “missed you.” he murmured. “i think there’s something way more to that.” you angled your head down to his, leveled with his helmet. “c’mon, admit it. you were jealous, no?” he whines in response, embarrassment and guilt seeping into his chest. “i can’t help it.” he ruts his hips on you, locking his thighs on one of yours. you chuckled at the display. “did you get turned on from the feeling?” he shook his head, a low moan wanting to burst from his throat.
“then what’s this, huh? you just got me alone and you’re already desperate?” you feel his thighs tighten around you, a little ‘mhm’ leaving him. you lifted your leg, pressing it firmer against his crotch. you duck your hand into his hood and wrap it around his neck. you didn’t want to choke him, only using it as a leverage to force him to look at you. you knew he became flustered trying to hold eye contact, especially with you.
“könig, look at me.” his eyes softened long ago. hesitantly, he did as he was told. loving eyes boring into yours. “m close, liebling.” (darling) he slowly grinds. you run your thumb along the length of his neck, feeling him shiver. you grab his hip with your free hand, lifting him from your thigh.
he whines at the loss, his hands beside your head lowering to your shoulders. “i know, sweetheart. i know.” you coo, trying to gently manhandle him with his protests. you now had him facing the wall, his hands on it to stabilize himself and you behind him. “please.” he pleaded, aching cock straining against his pants. he pulls down his pants and boxers with one hand, impatience evident. you unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants, boxers already lowered. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your exposed form just yet. you notice how his hole glistened in the light, “prepped. i prepped myself. please fuck me already.” he pushed his ass back to you. reaching around his waist, you gather enough precum from his cock, using it as lube. before he could buck up into your hand, you pull away.
you give your cock a few strokes, letting his precum coat it. you begin to inch yourself inside him. he was quite loose, but still so tight. cries leave him as he becomes blinded with the slight pain and pleasure. he squirmed around you as he tries to relax. the both of you suddenly freeze at the sound of booming laughter. a group of soldiers were loudly chattering, a conversation about their training. they were dangerously close to the hall where you and könig are. he turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, uncertainty and excitement laced his gaze.
you abruptly slammed your hips to his, rewarded with a startled moan from könig. the sound was drowned by their deafening voices, thankfully overlooked. you set a rough and steady pace, the slapslapslap echoing off the hall. könig had both hands flat on his clothed mouth, muffling his moans. you lean over, “you want them to find you like this, yeah? knowing how rumors spread like wildfire here— oh fuck, imagine the stares you’ll get... people finding out that the colonel got fucked dumb.” you whispered into his ear and he sobs, it was enough for him to tip over the edge.
“god, look at you. do you want that? let me hear you, colonel. make sure that the.... ah, lieutenant hears you too.” he whines in response. he didn’t anticipate to enjoy the thought of ghost finding the both of you like this, maybe it’s his possessiveness that has him reacting this way because there’s no chance he’ll let the man fuck either of you. on the contrary, his hole clenches around you at the use of ghost’s rank. “awh, könig. you want ghost to fuck you too?”
he shakes his head rapidly, helmet clacking at the speed. “n-no... i don’t. too muuuch— nnng! scheiße, ‘s too muuch.” (fuck) he whines, nearing another orgasm. the conversation between the soldiers die down and they seem to have halted, directly right across from the two of you. könig’s heart nearly leaped out of his throat. “what was that?” a female soldier questions, “what was what?” another woman asked. “i think i heard something.” she replies, “you must be hearing things. you think the training took a little toll on you?” a male soldier teases the other. “it did not! but anyway, like i was saying.”
their conversation continues. but they didn’t continue walking, no, they were just standing there. the colonel whimpered as quietly as he could, the longer you didn’t move the longer he could feel every vein of yours throb. he clenched around you again, silently begging. it was too risky, possibly raising more unwanted suspicions. you grind inside of him, letting him entirely feel you. he cried, wanting the friction as much as you did. your prayers were immediately answered when you hear them respond to an unheard order with a ‘yes, sir!’ following with their footsteps scrambling away soon after. you eagerly returned to your pace as he shyly let out his moans. “where you want it, sweetheart?” you pant, “i-in me. pleasepleaseplease... mgh, i’m so close mein schatz.” (my darling)
your climax triggers his, cum dripping from the wall and onto the floor. he slumped on you, not fully resting his weight as he didn’t want to crush you. but what either of you didn’t know was, ghost had been watching the entire time with a palm on his clothed cock.
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the sequel . . masterlist
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onlyfezco · 1 year
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Surrender - Fezco
Summary: Something felt off about Custer’s unannounced visit right before Lexi’s play. Thank God you were there when things went down. 
Fezco x Reader
Word Count: 1,922
Author’s Note: This is just the season 2 finale without Ashtray dying. I hate the fact that he’s dead and Fez is probably going to jail. I don’t love this one, but I just wanted Ash to not die lol.
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Fez always tried to keep you separate from his drug dealer life. You were never over when Mouse and Custer stopped by. You didn’t go with him to see his new supplier. Obviously you knew what he did. You knew his occupation before you two started dating. But the most involved you were, was sitting on the couch next to him at a party while he was dealing. That’s it. The less you knew, the better.
He said it was for your safety, which you respected. Especially after Rue told you what happened at Laurie’s on New Year’s Eve. You were grateful you missed that, but hate that Rue had to be there for it. 
All that was why you were confused when Custer stopped by. Of course you knew a little about Custer. You had to with his girlfriend currently living with your boyfriend and his little brother. You remember when you came over the first day after Faye started living with the boys. You saw some pink clothes tossed on the couch and immediately became annoyed and confused. Fezco just told you he owed his supplier a favor and couldn’t say no. You trusted Fez, but you felt he was leaving something out. Knowing it was on a need to know bases, you left it alone. You watched enough law shows to know if you didn’t know, you couldn’t get in trouble in court for not speaking up about something. 
Something felt off. 
Your hands ran down your flowy black dress with small white flowers printed all over smoothing out the wrinkles. You should be leaving for Lexi’s play now. 
“Babe, we should really get going.”
“Aiight, let me go put on my shoes and we can go.” Fez went back to his room.
You looked around and Ashtray was sitting near Custer. The intense look on his face made you have a weird feeling in your stomach. Ash didn’t trust many people. It took him forever to get used to you being around and sharing his brother. 
You step into the kitchen with Faye who doesn’t seemed too pleased that her boyfriend came over. Weird.
Faye and you weren’t best friends by any means, but you had grown to like her since she started living at the O’Neal house. You sympathized for her situation. A drug addict with a shitty boyfriend. Nowhere else to go when she got into trouble, but a drug dealing associate of said boyfriend who she didn’t even know. Plus Ashtray who wasn’t making this living situation ideal for any party involved.
“Is everything good,” Fez asked after he looked around the room and could feel the same tension you were feeling. 
“Yeah before you go, bro, I really have to talk to you about something,” Custer said. 
Fez sighed as he leaned on the counter. “Like what man?”
Custer paused for a beat. “Everything.”
You glanced at the two men super confused. You knew this wasn’t a conversation you should be listening too.
Custer put his cigarette down on the ashtray then turned around to look at Fez. “The fucking cops found Mouse’s body.”
Faye dropped her glass and you bent down to help her pick it up. There was a body. Is that why Fez had a new supplier? You looked at Faye wide eyed. She stared back at you then lifted her finger over her lips in a shhhing motion. Bile rose in your throat. You quickly stood up.
“Uh, Fez, I think I’m gonna go wait in the car,” you said completely interrupting them. Fez nodded having seen Faye’s hint to be quiet, but you knew Ashtray didn’t know. And knowing the boy as well as you did, you needed to get him out of there. “Ash,” you said louder than you intended, “you want to come wait with me?”
Ash’s eyes didn’t leave Custer. He was pissed. You quickly walked over to the boy, only barely hearing Custer’s next words asking Fez if he heard him. “Ash,” you said placing your hand on his shoulder shaking him a little so he’d look at you and get the sense of urgency you felt, “come wait with me.” He looked up at you, anger in his eyes. “Please,” you begged. Desperation so evident in your tone it made him want to do what you said. When he finally looked up at you, you glanced at Custer to make sure he wasn’t looking then copied Faye’s earlier gesture, placing your finger over your lips. Ash squinted at you then nodded in understanding. 
You grabbed his hand, something you had never done before, and pulled him along. Fez would handle it. He always handled it. Before you got too far away, you glanced at the coffee table noticing Custer’s phone. 
Before you made it out the room, you stopped and whispered to Fez. You didn’t care if Custer saw or thought it was weird.
“He’s recording us on his phone,” you said into your boyfriend’s ear. You pulled away and you both stared at each other for a brief moment before you continued out the living area. 
“Y/N,” Ash said stopping in his tracks dropping your hand.
“We gotta go, Ash.”
“I know but look,” he replied pointing to the security screens that showed the areas around the O’Neal home. The cameras weren’t showing anything. Someone moved them.
“Shit... Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“They’re already here,” Ash said softly. You never heard him sound like such a child in all the time that you’ve known him.
“Stay here,” you said, fear in your voice. “I’ll go tell your brother. He’ll know what do.”
Walking back to warn Fez, you heard Faye tell Custer that Laurie killed Mouse. It didn’t take much for you to figure out what actually happened. Mouse was murdered and one of your boys did it. Fez never said anything to you because he didn’t want you involved. You wanted to cry, but now wasn’t the time for tears.
You grabbed Fezco’s hand getting his attention, you voice low as you warned him. “I think the cops are here.”
Fez tilted his head, his jaw tight. 
“Take Faye and go wait with Ash at the door.”
Your eyes searched his. “What are you gonna do?”
“Make sure you stay safe.”
“I love you,” you said bluntly. You eyes glossing over with tears.
“I love you,” Fez replied, his tone serious. 
You went to the kitchen and grabbed Faye not saying a word. “I think it’s time you leave,” you heard Fez tell Custer.
“What,” Custer asked. “What are we gonna do about the cops?”
“Nothin’, cause I ain’t have anything to do with that. You heard your girl.” 
“Are you high,” Custer asked frustrated standing up. That was all you heard as you went to Ash. 
Everything finally became too much for you, the tears now falling from your eyes. “Ash, I don’t know what’s about to happen, but promise me, you’ll keep your mouth shut. I have an uncle who’s an attorney, I’ll call him and get y’all out of this.”
Ash shook his head. “I don’t know if an attorney is gonna fix this.”
You grabbed his shoulders, “Yes it will! It has too. We take it day by day. I just need us to survive this. If the cops come in here, there’s no telling what they’ll do. And besides, with what Faye said, all they got is drug charges right?”
Ash wanted to believe you so bad. He really did. But the odds never really worked in his favor. His mom left him at her dealer’s house as payment. Nate had their home raided. He acted too quick, killed Mouse, and left a witness in Custer. But he hated seeing you cry getting dragged into the mess he made. So he just nodded. “Yeah, probably.”
“No, probably! It will! I don’t know anything, I can’t say I saw something I didn’t. There probably isn’t even a body! Cops say they have evidence that don’t really have all the time to get you to talk. That’s why you can’t say anything until my uncle is with you. Do you hear me?”
Ash nodded, praying to a higher power he really didn’t believe in that you were right. “I hear you.”
“Okay,” you said. You pulled him into you for a hug. “I love you. I’ve never said it, but you know that right?”
That’s all it took for Ash to start crying. He hugged you back and replied, “I love you, too.” You kissed the top of his head, closing your eyes hoping this would all go away. 
You looked up at Faye while you continued to hold Ashtray. “You did good, Faye. Thank you.” 
Faye smiled at you. She wish she had said something sooner, but she was scared. She liked all of you. You treated her better than Custer ever did. Plus, Mouse was an asshole that the world was better off without.
Everything after that happened so quick. Fez came to where you all were and hugged both you and Ash. Squeezing you both tight until he let go to focus on Ash. He leaned down pressing his forehead on Ashtray’s speaking so only he could hear. “We’ll get out of this okay. Just be quiet and keep your head down. We’ll pin this on Laurie if we have too. I got rid of the hammer and the carpet with Mouse’s blood on it. They only have Custer’s word and he’s a dumbass dealer who’d say anything to protect himself.” 
Ashtray just nodded holding his brother. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 
Fez nodded in return. He let go of his brother then turned to you. “I never wanted you in this mess, ma. I’m sorry.”
Your tears wouldn’t stop falling now. “I know,” you replied wrapping your arms around Fez’s neck holding him as tight as you possibly could. “I’m gonna call my uncle who’s a lawyer. I’m gonna get you both out of this. I promise.”
Fez just held you close. He was doubtful. He had a little hope that pinning Mouse’s murder on someone else would work. The police just wanted to put someone away. Didn’t matter if it was him, Custer, or Laurie. And if they pinned it on Laurie, any of her guys who didn’t get arrested with her would come after them.
“I love you, Y/N. Always” Fez said.
“I love you, too,” you replied, pulling back so he could look in your eyes and see how much you meant it. “And I’m not going anywhere. We’re gonna figure this out.”
Fez responded with a hard kiss. His hand cupped the back of your head, his fingers intertwined in your hair. You stayed pressed against him until he stopped. His eyes looking down at you somberly like he was trying to remember every detail of your face.
“We gotta surrender so they don’t come bustin’ in here.” You closed your eyes briefly before nodding. In a matter of 10 minutes your whole world had just gotten turned upside down. Now you were about to walk out of the place that gave you so much solace and peace with your hands up so the police wouldn’t  shoot you.
Fez let go of you, stepping away and taking one last look at you and Ash. He walked to door, his hand paused on the door nob as he took a deep breath. He slowly opened the door, immediately putting his hands up. 
“We surrender.” 
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gretahayes · 1 year
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Favourite tim drake recs? :0
Assuming you mean fanfic recs, I've got probably the most for him and this is long, so it's going under the cut;
This is genuinely one of my favorites, it's set post-Red Robin, and deals with Tim's vigilante stalking habits, his family finding out, Cass realizing there's no photos of Tim, them setting out to take/find some of him (a much harder feat than you'd think) and finally, Tim seeing the photos. It's amazing and sweet, and I can't recommend it enough. (I especially like the Bruce & Tim and Tim & Damian in this)
This is by the same author, also set post-Red Robin. This is Damian and Tim focused, Damian POV, in which Damian sees Bruce's contingency plans for him and the rest of the family, and with nobody else to turn to, runs for Tim. Canon divergent in the way Bruce doesn't have a contingency for his children, neither does Tim for his team, or them for him, but it kinda makes sense in this setting. Their interactions are amazing here, and seems so real.
In this, Tim gets a tonsillectomy. An elaboration in the form of a long fic. A must-read, I feel. It's funny and has so many feels and such good characterization.
!!! Can't believe I almost forgot about this one! Tim is Bruce's assistant, not son, and never became a vigilante. He's incredibly overworked, but no less dedicated to the Waynes. It's heartwrenching and sweet and funny and—words can't do it justice. It's a must read. The Al Ghuls make a cameo but Tim knows how to deal with them. Tim's deeply sad but next to nobody knows and those that do just accept it (including him). Kon is the MVP. Cass. Damian and Tim have an odd bond built of mutual respect and disdain for everyone around them. Luthor tries to recruit Tim every year and fails.
This is funny and amazing—Tim lands in a universe where he's technically considered a drug addict, since coffee is a drug and in the regular universe everyone drinks it.
The YJ fic Ever. I've recced this at least three times, and I will continue to. It's amazing characterization all around—both YJ and batfam—and genuinely is so fun. I love everyone in this. When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.
This is Tim & Damian—Tim gets his overprotective big brother moment :) love love LOVE the way everyone is written here.
This is short and hilarious—Tim has amnesia after a head wound (can only remember back to his YJ days) and tries to bullshit his way out of anyone noticing. He might have succeeded if not for Cass.
This is a time loop fic, switching POVs. Tim's stuck in a time loop in which Jason always dies. The loop before the one this was set in, he accidentally kills Damian out of stress and too-fast reflexes. He breaks down when he sees Damian again, the whole thing unravels, and they resolve to help him out of it.
THIS SERIES MAKES ME FERAL. Jack, Tim and sometimes Dana, set when Jack made Tim quit from Robin. Horror-type elements and beautifully poetic, but centered around Jack's POV of the son he realizes he doesn't know, and him realizing he may be a shit dad. Dana's the best stepmom ever, and Tim's far nicer to her than he is Jack. This is the first work, in which Jack tries and fails to understand this Tim, and realizes that this Tim is Robin, not Tim. This is the second (and last) work in the series, in which Tim hasn't fully quit the lifestyle even though he's not going out as Robin, but Jack has no proof he hasn't. Just a hunch and a few odd occurrences that us, the readers, who are familiar with Tim's hero life will find obvious, but Jack does not. Dana makes Tim happier, more Tim than Tim-Robin, than Jack does, and Jack hates it. Near the end, he starts calling Tim Robin, not Tim. I LOVE it. Even if you hate Jack (like I do) you need to read this, for the Tim characterization if nothing else. Outsider POV, except he shouldn't be an outsider. But he is.
This is so fucking funny. Tim gets a matching tattoo with Kon, and hides it from Bruce. When Bruce—and the rest of his family—find out, all goes to hell.
Remember when I said the Jack and Tim series was only slightly horror? This is horror. Bruce's got a habit of picking up monsters, and this one is about Tim. If you're sensitive to horror, please read the tags and maybe avoid it, because this is delightful but not for everyone.
In this, Tim becomes an unintentional sugar daddy to the caped community. It's a bit iffy in some places, but hilarious.
This is Dick and Tim (surprised it took me this long to rec one with them as the main focus tbh) and it's Dick checking up on his little brother. Pure fluff, and genuinely amazing.
This is Tim & Bruce but also Tim & Tam in some places. Bruce forgets Tim is the majority shareholder for WE and is thus invited to shareholder meetings, Tim finds this very amusing and is generally a menace. You can FEEL the teenager in this Tim. Amazing.
Tim's de-aged to a kid in this, and re-meets his family. Fluff and feels ensue.
This is Bruce and Tim. Bruce isn't prepared for his newest Robin's neuroses.
This has Tim & Cassie meeting at an archaeologist event as kids and having to fight a monster thing :) it's cute
GODDD this fic? This fic ruined me. Beautiful Tim characterization, a gorgeous look at Bruce and how much he fucks up despite caring, and Dick being a stressed but amazing big brother with gorgeous writing. I love their brotherly affections here, and Tim's weird neuroses being shown here. Tim & Bruce is how it starts, and it's very much centered around their relationship, but it tapers off into Dick & Tim, which I'm not complaining about. Kon (and Bart!) makes a cameo and is an amazing friend. Can't rec this enough. If you read none of the other fics, please read this one.
This is Dick and Tim again. Dick forces Tim to go undercover with him to an Elvis convention in a thinly veiled attempt to spend time with the brother who he doesn't think knows how much he loves him. It's set in Tim's POV, though, so until Dick says this, Tim doesn't know. Hilarious and short.
This is Dick and Tim (who's surprised? Nobody) where Dick goes to Robin!Tim's science fair because Tim mentioned it and well, nobody else was going. Short and sweet.
This deals with the batfam finding out about the shitshow that was Tim's BruceQuest. If you're a stickler for canon I'd recommend you skip this one, but if not, it's a great read.
This is Dick and Tim again, and it's amazing. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and does something about it. It's Robin!Tim, so this is Dick, Babs and Tim. This author is amazing at writing their interactions, plus inside Dick's head is a tricky place to write and they nail it perfectly. Mostly Dick & Tim, but since he invites Tim to Babs' holiday party, Babs makes a good number of cameos.
This is Tim talking a jumper off the ledge while Damian watches. Then they talk about it. Tim from Damian's POV is always interesting, but this especially is amazing.
This is a core four fic, Tim's POV! Pure humor. Tim finds a dildo in the dishwasher and he drags them for a team meeting so he can sus out whose it is.
I've recced this before, I think, but I'll do it again. Red Robin canon divergence fic in which Bruce is actually dead, and Tim calls Dick to tell him he thinks he may have been wrong. Dick's POV, short, but the emotion in this is outstanding.
In this fic, Damian has trouble with the transition from Dick's Batman to Bruce's Batman. Tim, who's also had both, is surprisingly helpful. This has so many Tim and Damian feels that I'm literally bursting at the seams. Melancholy, camaraderie, and all the good stuff. Damian's POV, and since he sucks at so much as guessing at what's going on in Tim's head, it's all the more great.
This is Dick and Tim, a soft Christmastime fic.
This is Bruce and Tim. Bruce and Tim have a sort-of game that started when Tim was thirteen. Initially, it was Tim stealing sips (or occasionally whole mugs) of Bruce’s coffee, back when he was too young for Alfred to allow him to drink it. Now, though, Bruce is getting his own back, and steals Tim’s coffee when he can. Sweet and fluffy.
Here, Tim gets a headwound and only remembers back to his Robin days, and forgets to be awkward around Dick and Damian. Tugs at the heartstrings. Dick's reminded of how much he misses this Tim.
This is really funny. Remember that time during the YJ days where the adult heroes were de-aged and the kid ones grew to be adults? Tim didn't reach six foot. In this, he's mocked ruthlessly for it.
Here, Tim goes to high school again after dropping out :) it's core four and hilarious
In this, Tim accidentally kills his dad in self defense—or rather, thinks he does, Jack's still alive but he doesn't know that until Dick shows up—and scrambles to call Dick. He calls Jason instead. Dick eventually gets called and shows up, and the brotherly feels in this are amazing. Tim's in shock for a good portion of it, and it's his POV, so you've got to piece some stuff together. Bad dad Jack, as in worse than canon bad dad Jack. Tugs on the heartstrings, and have I said I love Dick in this? Because I do. Bruce shows up near the end, and to everyone's surprise, doesn't absolutely fuck things up and/or fail as a parent.
Here, Tim is sick and alone. Dick, after not hearing from Tim at all for three days, goes to his apartment, finds him sick, and takes care of him. Eventually he gets dragged to the Manor for some actual r&r. It's sweet, and this writer has an amazing way with words and an intriguing flow.
In this, Bruce knows Tim. They have a routine, have habits, they know each other. This is so so touching, and I love it so much.
Here, Tim and Steph give Bruce a headache. It's amazing.
I..can't even begin to describe this. Bruce is fresh from the timeline, and this is a sort of introspection/character study type thing about him and Tim and how Tim's changed. Mostly, though? Mostly, Bruce just gives his son a hug.
Here, Kon is Tim's work husband. Bruce suffers. Pure fluff and humor, with a touch of feels.
Here, Bruce takes Tim to get his wisdom teeth out. They're both worried, but together, they're alright. Tim cries while doped up on the drugs. He cries a lot.
Here, 90's!Tim Drake wakes up in his Red Robin body. Exhausted from a YJ mission, he chooses to focus on getting through a normal day so as not to disrupt things for his future self. But, y'know, his way. Hilarious and so in-character, if exaggerated for comedy.
This is Tim and Damian—Damian gets hit with truth serum on patrol, and a pissed off Tim has to come and get him. Damian resolves to not tell Tim he's been hit with truth serum. They get closer as a result. Love their dynamic in this.
This is core four again, but just general teenager superhero chaos. Can't rec it enough
Here, Tim tries to build a LEGO Gotham, but his family just can't leave it—or him—alone. He calls a family meeting to tell them to knock it off, and they do not. Fluff and humor.
Here, Tim has appendicitis and gets his appendix removed. The best mix of fluff, feels, and good old complicated family dynamics ever
In this, Bruce tries to navigate giving affection to his odd son, Tim. Touching and funny.
This is Tim and Damian—Damian crashes on Tim's bed in the Watchtower when injured, Tim finds him. They talk, and maybe bond a bit, even though they'd never admit it.
Here, Bruce hugs Tim. Really nothing else to it.
Another fic where Tim wakes up with amnesia and pretends to know his family so he's not rude. He's found out when he correctly deduces Bruce is his dad, but makes the mistake of calling Bruce dad.
This is Dick and Tim again. Tim gets de-aged into a six-month-old, and Dick takes care of him. Soft and so so sweet.
In this, Tim's trying to work in his apartment when his siblings keep showing up to distract him and get him to take a break. It's sweet of them, if very annoying.
This is Bruce and Tim. Tim's injured and lying in bed, Bruce gets him takeout. Feels fuzzy and just...good. You've got to read it to know what I'm talking about, no summary does it justice.
Here, Damian tries to make amends with Tim. He does it very oddly though, so Tim thinks he has a crush on him, and avoids him all the more for it because ew-gross-ew-ew.
In this, Tim gets his teeth knocked out and grabs Dick as a mediator so he tells Bruce. Short and funny-sweet. You can tell this is in Tim's Robin run, due to all the little hints dropped.
This is Tim and Kon, funny and nonsensical. Tim calls Kon in the early hours of the morning, drunk. Kon thinks he deserves sainthood for this.
In this, Tim has road rage and most of his family find that out in the most hilarious way possible.
Bruce and Tim—a test sort of fic? Interesting, definitely.
This is timkon, Tim has memory loss and is amazed by Kon all over again.
Core four go to a gala :)
This is Dick and Tim, Tim breaks into Dick's house, accidentally interrupts his nap, tries to leave out of guilt, and gets wrangled into hugs. So so soft and so so sweet.
Another de-aged Tim fic, but this time with six year old Tim and Bruce taking care of him. This is so melancholy and...ugh. I love them.
Here, Tim and Dick are thrown into an alternate universe and have to try and get back with no other support system and no way out. They meet this world's version of Bruce and Alfred, though.
CEO Tim, and hates it. He makes that Luthor's problem.
Timkon, in which Tim plans all his dates VIA corkboard and Kon is so attracted to that.
CEO Tim (again), except he's still a teenager and people end up thinking he's a communist. This is short and hilarious all the way through. Also, Bruce is there.
This is The kid!Tim fic ever. Tim, having found a weird hole after a storm, decides to go exploring ignoring the fact that This Is Gotham and They Probably Have Cursed Stuff Down There.Luckily, it was just a cave system that spans the entire Gotham underground. Unluckily, Tim is a very curious child. Tim's a sorta eldritch being at the end?? Amazing, 100 would recommend.
In this, Tim finds out he isn't his parents' biological son. This changes everything. This changes nothing. Can't say anything else without spoiling, but I can't rec it enough.
In this fic, Bruce is back in time in Drake Manor, and meets baby Tim. It's like you're frozen in time, and all that matters is Bruce and his infant not-yet-son.
Here, Kon and Tim date. Tim's a cryptid stalker that refuses to be photographed, Dick is a big brother that loves his little brother, and it's cute.
Sorry it took me so long to compile this list anon, happy reading!
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auspicioustidings · 8 months
Text
Mandatory Dungeons and Dragons
Summary: You have moved to a new town and really miss running D&D, good thing the nearby military base is looking for a DM.
Words: 3.9k
CW: None :)
“So I’m naw going tae go through the portal?”
“Ok so you do know from your arcana check that if you were to try go through this portal while it’s red, that a few things may happen to you and none of them are good.”
“Aye, but how not good we talking?”
“Dragged through hell before being spat back out, let’s hope someone in the party has a diamond and revivify ready not good.”
“Copy. I’ll naw go through it then sweetheart.”
“Don’t be a pussy Johnny.”
“I go through the portal!”
“...why are you all like this?”
You wanted to cry on the train home. Your first time at the TTRPG club in the city nearest your new home in a little village and it had been a disaster. It wasn’t like you didn’t know how to play Dungeons and Dragons just because you didn’t know every rule inside and out, but they had made you feel so stupid and as if that was absolutely the case. You missed your group back home and were already a bit insecure knowing they had another person DMing for them now. It was hard not to get in your head and wonder if they would like the new DM better, if their style would be more agreeable than the rules light chaos you brought to a table. And with the derision you had gotten from the DM at the club for daring to call a nat 20 on an attack roll a crit, you were stuck on the train considering just never going near the hobby again.
Maybe you really wouldn’t have if not for the brave little flyer hanging on to the edge of a stall for dear life that caught your eye a few months later when you went to the farmers market. You liked the farmers market in this little town, lots of handmade jams and local produce and baked goods. The stall the flyer was on was the most eccentric stall of the market and one where you had made a friend your first time wandering through, although Nik was not always here.
The Russian man looked every part the stereotypical gangster, but he was funny and kind and didn’t get upset whenever people from outside this community took issue with him on account of his home country. He had little hand carved animals that when you asked he said were made by a friend. Saying he sold them was sort of complicated because he’d give them away for free if asked, they were pay what you want with any money going towards a charity for helping recovering drug addicts. 
All that to say, it was entirely surprising that he would have a flyer looking for someone to run a D&D game at a nearby military base. 
“Do you know this game lapposhychka?”
“I do! I used to run it back home. I’m surprised a military base is looking for someone to run a game though, it’s generally played by… I mean it’s more a nerdy game, I didn’t think soldiers would be all that interested.”
“Ha! Do not listen to these silly tv shows that tell you soldiers are very cool and tough. You are more cool than any of them.”
“Uh huh, should I ask how you would know that or is it a you’d have to kill me situation?”
Nik laughed in that way that you loved, it made you so happy how unstrained he was with his fondness for you. Such an odd man. Given that he sometimes would be away from the market for weeks and always gave vague answers about what he actually did you had suspected he was in some sort of shadowy career, at least if it was with a nearby military base you didn’t have to worry that he actually was a gangster.
“Send email to the address so you can run this silly game for them hm?”
Well, what was the worst that could happen?
“They found someone else, sending him tomorrow” Price said with a long, tired sigh to his team. 
You would think that being a task force that was entrusted with saving the world, they would be exempt from the wellness initiatives that some civilians with fancy little degrees in an office somewhere kept forcing onto them. This one had been running for a year now and TF141 had been finding ways around it. 
The base football team had kicked them off when Johnny had bitten one of the players after an argument turned into a scuffle, so HR sent them to do airsoft thinking that it would be more appealing.
The airsoft venue had swiftly asked for them not to return when Simon had made the other team get on their knees and mock executed them one by one, so HR had sent them to a life drawing class.
The life drawing class had declined to continue running for them with Gaz’s insistence that he must be naked in order to feel comfortable drawing someone else naked, and at this point HR seemed intent on declaring an all out war on Price’s team.
Their latest was Dungeons and Dragons. Price had not known what that was when the arrogant little shit of a man had waltzed in with all of his books and dice and props and complex maps and got them to make characters. He rubbed them the wrong way entirely, clearly had some sort of superiority complex knowing that he was able to tell soldiers what to do. That had been the same with every activity they had been sent to and he was getting more and more mad about it. Why did HR think it was a good idea for civilians to be giving them instructions? It always ended with a power trip and his team needing to cut someone down to size.
“Did they aye? Such a shame aboot whit’s his face, wonder why he quit.”
“Strange right? Thought the git was having fun what with Ghost getting so into character!” Gaz added, him and Soap grinning in a way that spelled danger for whoever they were sending next.
Ghost had gotten very into character. It’s not like the knife ever would have hit the little weasel behind the DM screen, it had thunked into the wall behind him just as it had been aimed to do. Price tried to smother his own smug grin thinking back to it, the look of horror when Ghost had launched the knife, walked over, ripped it back out of the wall and said ‘tell me again that it’s lodged so deep that I can’t get it out’. 
HR were changing tactics now, making them stay on the same activity and just switching around the person running it. Well, they’d soon find out that Captain John Price did not negotiate with terrorists.
“Just tryin’ to be ready for any last minute missions sir.”
Price had to hand it to Simon, the man was going all out today. Full tac gear, skull mask on, generally being the most terrifying soldier a civilian could ever have nightmares of meeting in a dark alley. No doubt whoever came in would try and feign disinterest, would try and come off as if the whole thing was beneath them. As if that would do anything but encourage his lieutenant. 
“Very good. Soap?”
“Sir?”
“The mask?”
“Aye, like LT said, battle ready.”
Gaz chuckled and Price once again controlled himself so he did not join. Soap hadn’t wore that little red skull mask in a while, but he couldn’t imagine it would go down well. The temptation to go digging through his own belongings and pull the black one he owned was creeping in the back of his head. If they could scare off this DM before they even started it would really save them all a lot of time. 
You were jittering with nerves as the soldier checked and rechecked your ID and waved you through. This was seeming more and more like an awful idea as you parked up and were escorted through the grey winding tunnels of the base, clutching the straps of your backpack like a lifeline. 
You were dropped off outside a door and left to try and control your erratic heart as you forced yourself to open it and walk inside what looked like some sort of briefing room. It would work, there was a big table. They were already here.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck, they were huge. They were terrifying. Two were wearing masks and you thought that maybe this was fine, character masks right? Maybe the setting they played in was more modern-ish and that's why the heavy tac wear as well. The other two were a younger man in a baseball cap and an older one in a fishing hat. They would have been less terrifying if not for the fact that they were also big and good looking. This felt like a fever dream, these people could not exist. Were those knives?
“H-hi!”
The nervous squeak of a greeting coming out of you made you at the very least force a megawatt smile on your face to cover your embarrassment about it as you introduced yourself, stumbling over your own name.
“I ah… I’m here to run a game!” you said, swinging your backpack off of your shoulders and holding it up as if it would suddenly turn see through and show your supplies.
You suddenly felt wildly underequipped. You didn’t have all the fancy terrains or stacks of books or intricate props. You had a PHB and a oneshot, a beaten up DM screen and snacks that would double as battlemaps. The email had said that they already had player sheets and dice and you didn’t see anything on the table. Oh God you hadn’t thought to bring stuff just in case, what had you been thinking? Was the months of going through every background check under the sun not warning enough that you should not be doing this?
“Of course, we’ve been expecting ye! John MacTavish, ye can call me Johnny” said the man in the red mask after a moment of stilled silence, smiling and holding a hand out for you to shake.
You felt like your hand must be clammy and your heart was liable to beat out of your chest with this man being in your space smiling down at you. You tried to relax as the older man took your bag and set it down on the table, leading you by the small of your back to one of the chairs. 
“Captain John Price, have a seat” he said kindly.
“Oh! It’s nice to meet you sir. Captain. Sir? I’m so sorry, I’m not sure which I should be using. I should have looked that up before coming, I’m sorry, I really wasn’t thinking” you rambled.
“Slow down sweetheart, you’re not under my command, you can call me John.”
It was so clear that they were soldiers. Not just the outfits, but how they held themselves. The Captain was so solid and safe feeling, like a hurricane could rip through the door and he would be able to fight it off before it touched you. It was strange the feeling it gave you to be in the space of that kind of person. It was stranger still that all four of them had that same undercurrent to them, even the huge man in the skull mask with a bunch of knives strapped to him. You sat and swallowed thickly, trying to get yourself together as you shakily unzipped your bag and started to pull everything out, trying to at least make brief eye contact with the others as they introduced themselves.
“Kyle Garrick, call me Gaz luv. Hang on, we have our stuff somewhere I think” the man in the cap said sheepishly, sharing a knowing look with the others that you knew meant there was something going on here you were missing. 
“Ghost. We don’t have stuff, sheets are long gone. Left the dice in a bar.”
“That’s ok! I mean we can wing it with a pen and paper, I’m sorry I didn’t bring any extra sheets. And if you have your phone there are free dice apps. And um…” you trailed off, looking between them and slowly figuring out that the thing you could see was a strange mix of pity and guilt. “...do you… actually want to play D&D?”
“No.”
“Jesus LT, way tae let her doon gently.”
“Git! Don’t listen to him luv, of course we want to play.”
You looked at the Captain in question. It was natural to see him as the leader here, so if anyone was going to explain it would be him you thought. He held your gaze and you found you could not look away from those eyes. There was just something so decidedly cosy and warm about those eyes, like being inside bundled up next to a blazing fireplace while being able to see snow out of the window. 
“Soap grab some pens and paper would you?”
“Aye sir!”
John MacTavish had been so confident when that door opened that they were about to make HR give up once and for all, that whatever man walked through that door would barely make it ten minutes before running off. That had went out the window when you came spilling through. Not one ounce of posturing or arrogance, just a sweet little thing looking at him all nervous and jittery. 
He knew it wasn’t just him that had been taken off guard, the whole room fell into an uncomfortable silence after you had introduced yourself. He had never been good with an uncomfortable silence, and he was feeling especially inclined to fill it seeing how it made your face fall more and more by the second. 
The urge to immediately tease his Captain was strong seeing that barely perceptible tick of his jaw when you had stumbled over which honorific to address him by. In all of the activities they had done, not one person had afforded Price any of the respect he deserved. It wasn’t like any of them expected civilians to follow their orders or treat them as superior, but there was something almost disdainful about it when people very pointedly refused to acknowledge it at all. When they swung the other way and tried to assert superiority over him as if to prove something. So having this sweet thing immediately try their hardest to give him his place? It was definitely affecting his Captain and it was obvious to the trained eye.
He could have spear tackled Simon for being so blunt with you. He could have kissed Gaz for immediately refuting him. And he could have eaten you right up when instead of immediately showing off all of your knowledge about lore and rules like the last one, you started out with going over all the ways you would all make sure everyone was safe and happy and having fun. 
You got so bashful trying to explain traffic lights with Simon teasing you that he couldn’t really help but put a hand on your leg to stop it from bouncing. Your bright little blush and smile at him just melted him entirely. Ah fuck, he was so screwed.
“I don’t know what your last DM used but totally open to whatever makes you most comfortable. I tend to use a traffic light system, have you ever used that before?”
Simon Riley found you wildly amusing, not least because Johnny was like a puppy with how he was trying to get you to like him. He was certain that if you put a hand to that mohawk then he might actually just bundle you in his arms and never let go. Cute. 
“Red means too much, orange means slow down, green means fuck yes baby keep going,” he answered, suggestion dripping off of every word. 
He watched how that made you shiver from your toes to your head, your leg bouncing nervously making it endearingly obvious how it had affected you. He wasn’t really looking to make you uncomfortable, just to tease a little. Gaz gave him a swift kick to the shin under the table and he fought off a laugh. 
“Ok you’re technically not wrong, same principle. That’s just for during the game if anything comes up, but we can decide beforehand what we definitely won’t have in the game. I’ll go through my list, but if there is anything at all anyone wants to add we’ll add it on and I’ll work around that.”
Colour him surprised when after thirty minutes he had indeed contributed to your little list. You explained it so gently that it made sense to mention that he didn’t really want snakes in the game, the same game he hadn’t been intending on playing in the first place. He liked that a lot. He liked that you put him in a place where he could comment on something vulnerable so easily because there was no chance that you’d judge him for it, you just wrote it right down on your list without question. 
He supposed they could do a few hours of this stupid game.
If someone had told Kyle Garrick an hour ago that he would be very seriously yelling at a magical gate that kept bloody shooting magic missiles at him, he would have said you were off your head. And yet, here he was. Well, not him. Here Elliot Knight, elvin Paladin was.
When they had played last time it was like pulling teeth. This time? The paper in front of him didn’t have a thousand things on it to keep track of, you had more or less thrown the rule book out and simplified it down to what would be easy and fun. Soap had been encouraged to reskin his sword to instead be a golf club which he was delighted about. Price was doing an outrageous Yorkshire accent that he had done briefly as a joke and then committed to once he saw how it made you grin. Ghost had fully been allowed to macgyver together a molotov in the game. And he was so bloody mad at this gate that here he was yelling at it. 
“Stop shooting at me!”
“The gate simply repeats it again. Security protocols activated, please answer all security questions to deactivate security protocol. What is the gestation period of a milk cow? It fires another missile at you and… yeah that hits. It smacks into your shoulder for 12 points of fire damage.”
“Ow! Next time someone else is playing distraction, if you fail another investigation to find this bloody book I will kill you in real life Soap.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying! Naw ma fault that Neil Ellis is a dumb fuck, I had to put all of ma points intae wisdom so he could be a proper Druid!”
“Ok so you do have a really high wisdom Johnny, and one of the skills under that is animal handling. If you wanted to, you could try to use that to see if Neil knows the gestation period of a milk cow instead of using investigation to look for the right book.”
Gaz nearly killed Soap when he managed to fail that roll as well.
This was stupid and fun. John Price found this stupid and fun. He had gotten strangely attached to Barry Sloane, his human fighter who was really just trying his best, although his favourite character had to be Samuel Roukin, absolute little shit of a bard. Simon had made a 4 foot tall dwarf who happily sat and played his stupid lute during all of the fights and yet had managed to land the final hit on every single thing they had fought so far by insulting it to death. 
It had been especially funny when the big monster had transformed into a maiden with flowing hair and a billowy white dress and Samuel had, while Neil and Barry were downed and Elliot was desperately trying to get them up and not die, told her “what’s the difference between you and a salad? The salad knows how to get dressed” and you had just buried your head in your hands when he had landed the hit and told you the damage. Another kill for the bard.
It hardly felt like it had been a full four hours when you wrapped up the session and apologised for over running. When you asked them about why they were playing in the first place and you had agreed to join the fight against HR? Oh, you were part of the 141 now whether you knew it or not.
“Wait, so they're forcing you to do an activity between every mission?” you asked, somewhere between disbelief and wild amusement.
The game went really well in the end. You liked this oneshot, it was always a hit and good for beginners, but this group had made it especially chaotic. You didn’t think you had ever been kept on your toes so much or laughed quite so hard at a groups antics. They were so ridiculous, even more so with how scary they looked in their gear. Johnny had taken his mask off during character building and you really thought you must be some sort of psycho because it had sparked your cute aggression and you barely resisted the urge to smoosh his cheeks. Ghost never took off his mask, but you got used to it. He wasn’t anywhere near as severe as he looked and he had such a stupid sense of humour that was so at odds with the spooky skull mask that it made what he came out with even funnier. 
“Yeah, supposed to somehow promote wellness more than actually catching up on sleep” Gaz grinned, clearly delighted that you seemed to find it as ridiculous as they did. 
“So what will they make you do next?”
“This again if you say yes sweetheart. You’d be the first person to not drop us after one session.”
You gave the Captain a wry smile. They had insinuated that they had been pretty badly behaved at every other activity, so you could imagine they had scared everyone else away.
“Well why don’t you just get me to come back then? We don’t have to play D&D, as long as I report that we are right? You guys can just do whatever you want for 3 hours.”
You really wanted to see them again you realised with a thump of your heart. Even if it was just a quick hello once every one or two months so they could get a sign off to say they had done their mandatory activity session. It was difficult to try and process exactly what mix of emotions you felt when Ghost laughed warmly from behind you where he had been tidying away all the drink cans and sweet wrappers you had been using as map pieces, and then dropped his arms over your shoulders in a sort of hug. He leaned down, pressing his cheek to yours so that he was looking at the others still lounging at the table. You could feel his cheek, he must have taken his mask off.
“What do you say Captain? Have her come back and do whatever we want with her for 3 hours?”
There really was only one word going through your mind and you prayed that you hadn't said it out loud.
Green.
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