#i have a handful of projects for me up there

[trulyhblue]

STARGIRL

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.

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Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.

The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.

“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”

“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.

The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.

It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.

Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.

Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.

Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.

“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.

The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.

“You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”

You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.

“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”

“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.

It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.

The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.

“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”

You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”

Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.

“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”

You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.

Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.

You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.

At least for you.

Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.

“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”

Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.

“I'm driving home.”

Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”

If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”

Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.

“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”

Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.

Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.

Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.

“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You first.”

“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”

You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.

“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.

Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.

“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.

She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.

Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.

“Wait, so, I don't remember-”

“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”

Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”

“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”

The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.

You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Give it here.”

It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.

“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.

“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”

You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.

After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.

“How are you feeling, Baby?”

Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.

You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”

Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”

Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”

“What is it, baby?”

You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.

You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”

It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.

“Looking so good tonight, darling…”

“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”

“So perfect for me, all to myself…”

In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.

You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.

“Feel so good, don't you?”

“Georgia, please.”

“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”

You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.

She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.

“Can we go, Gee?”

“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.

You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”

“Want me? But I'm right here.”

“Georgia, please. I need your help.”

That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.

She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.

You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.

“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”

You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.

You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.

“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. “Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”

“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”

“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”

You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”

Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.

You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.

“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”

You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.

The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.

You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.

Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.

“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”

You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.

“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”

You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.

“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.

“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.

“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”

You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.

“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”

In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.

But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.

That made it all click.

“Are you jealous?”

Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”

She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.

“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.

“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”

“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”

“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”

“Georgia…”

“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Fuck, please Gee.”

“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”

You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.

“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”

Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.

“Chelsea.”

“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”

That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.

“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”

“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”

The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.

You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.

“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.

“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”

She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.

“Gee, can you move?”

Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.

With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.

Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.

“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”

“Fuck, Georgia-”

“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”

You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.

“My pretty girl.”

You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.

You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.

“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”

“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”

You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”

“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.

Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.

_______________________

[purplesuitcowboy]

tw: incest (older brother x younger sister), and rape

“Are you sure that I have to sit like this for you to work on your knot tying? This is a really weird class project.” his baby sister asked from her position on the floor. Sophie awkwardly sat hunched over on her knees with her hands clasped together under her ass.

“Yeah, that’s what the instructor said,” Cade told her, tying her clasped hands tightly to her feet. She gritted her teeth as the course rope dug into her skin.

“Be careful! That hurts."

He tugged at the ropes, and when he was satisfied with their tautness, he moved away from her to look over his handy work.

“Okay, try it now," he continued, like he hadn't heard her. "Can you move?”

She squirmed, trying to get free, but she only managed to lurch forward, landing on her shoulder and her cheek. While she struggled, her brother sat back on his haunches, admiring her tight ass as it wriggled in his face. Her little denim shorts were pulled tight over her cunt highlighting the shape of her pussy lips. Absentmindedly, he palmed at his hardening cock through his jeans.

“Alright, I can’t get up,” she said to him as she continued to struggle against her bounds. “Can you untie me now?”

“In a minute, I just want to try something first,” he told her.

“Cade, no,” she replied annoyed. “Untie me, now.”

Instead of untying her, he leaned forward and grabbed the rope that bound her hands to pull her towards him. She grunted as her knees and shoulders dragged against the rough ground. If this situation wasn't bad enough, she was going to get grass in her hair. He positioned himself between her legs. He placed his hands on her ass, rubbing at the soft flesh appreciatively. He slapped one of her ass cheeks and then the other, enjoying the way her ass shook in response to his actions.

"Ow!" she exclaimed. "Cade, let me go."

Her brother laughed as he rubbed at the reddened skin. "I don't know, Sophie. I think, I prefer you like this. It suits you."

"That's not funny," she told him which earned her a snort from her brother.

"Who said that I was joking?" To the best of her ability, she gawked at him. He treated her to a smile in return. His precious baby sister, she had no idea that'd been day dreaming about fucking her for months. She lounged around the house in her skimpy tank tops and short shorts, seemingly inviting him to bend her over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck her until she couldn't stand. He'd say that she was doing it on purpose if he didn't know how she was. She was innocent. Their parents had always been protective of her, shielding her from the world through homeschooling. It was a shame that they couldn't shield her from him.

He rested one hand on her ass, and over the denim of her shorts, rubbed at her pussy with his thumb. She felt a warmth bloom between her legs as he continued to rub at her pussy through her shorts. She wasn't entirely sure why by his touch was making her feel weird. She squirmed in her bonds, trying to make the feeling go away but it didn't work. Cade pulled her back him, grabbing her by her bound hands and yanking her closer. He rooted around in his pockets and pulled out his utility knife. At the familiar sound of the knife edge releasing from its sheath, Sophie relaxed, expecting him to finally relent and cut her free. She was confused, however,when he slipped the blade under the crotch her of her shorts. She could feel the cool metal through her panties and it made her shiver.

"Cade," she asked him, cautiously. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her question, focusing his attention on cutting open the crotch of her shorts and then her underwear. He pulled at the fabric, getting it out of his way. Finally, he could see her sweet pussy. The juicy pink flesh reminded him of ripe summer strawberries. Entranced, he dipped his head down between her legs to suck on her clit. Sophie gasps at the sensation, and tries to wriggle away from him.

"Wait, no. Don't put your mouth down there. That's gross."

"It's okay," he said, easing a finger into her hole. "It's just the two of us. You don't have to pretend that you don't like it."

She gasp at the intrusion, clenching her pussy around his finger. He dipped his head back down between her legs, licking and sucking while he slowly pumped his finger in and out. The taste of her was almost addictive. He wasn't in such a hurry to fuck her, he'd spend all day like this with his mouth on her cunt, lapping up her juices. He added another finger, scissoring them to stretch out her hole, which earned him a whine from his sister. Despite her earlier resistance, she kept trying to rock her hips back onto his fingers and tongue.

"Uh, Cade," she told him, amid her pants and whines. "You gotta stop. I feel weird."

He didn't stop, though, just continued to fuck her with his fingers and his until her words had turned into unintelligible babbling. She quivered and shook while she came, her toes curling and hands clenching around nothing as her body was wracked with pleasure. Cade was greedy. One orgasm wasn't enough. He wanted to watch her come apart at his hands. He kept licking her, kept pumping her pussy with his fingers until she came again. He liked her tied up like this, at his mercy and unable to do anything to stop him.

Unable to resist any longer, he removed his fingers from her cunt to release his cock from the confines of his jeans. She craned her head to see what was happening but through the haze of pleasure, couldn't really decipher what she was seeing. Why was he taking his man-thing out? Rubbing the head of his cock against her slick lips, he coated himself in her juices. He positioned the head at her entrance, and in one stroke, filled her completely.

She let out a yelp, surprised by the sudden painful intrusion. She felt like she was being split in half. She felt like he was trying to plow through her pussy and straight into her guts. Her eyes began to well with tears as her body was overwhelmed with sensations. Cade grunted from his position above her, as he fucked her. She felt even better than he thought that she would. He should have given her a moment to adjust, he knew she was a virgin, but he couldn't wait any longer. He'd go easier on her the next time.

Gradually, she began to adjust to the sensation and it stopped being painful. She still ached, but it was accompanied by pleasure. She was chanting her brother's name as he fucked her. Her voice spiked into a pleasured squeal as his fingers found her clit.

"Come on, I know you have another one in you," he told her.

She didn't believe him. She was so achy and sensitive but she felt warm beginning to grow in her gut. It grew and grew until it overwhelmed her and she came again. His orgasm quickly followed. He pushed his cock in deeper and deeper until the head kissed her cervix. With a loud groan, he filled her cunt with his cum. His cock felt uncomfortably sensitive as he pulled out of her cunt, it seemed to cling to his shaft like it didn't want him to leave. His cum leaked out of her cunt, dripping onto her bound hands and feet.

"Okay," he said, trying to catch his breath. "Now, I think that I can let you go."

[muddyorbsblr]

curiosities

See my full list of works here!

Requested by: Anonymous | view request here

Summary: Loki's interrogation tactics left you curious about his powers, and he's more than happy to give you a little demonstration while you worked on your reports.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning/s: 18+ | slightly smutty (think limes not lemons…but still, minors & pearl clutchers leave right now); thigh riding; hand necklaces; naughty use of Loki's powers; semi-public [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: nothing explicit but proceed with caution starting from "Quiet, darling"

"Darling? Are you alright?"

The sound of Loki's voice broke through the hazy thoughts you'd found yourself lost in for the last few minutes, making you realize that your fingers hovered over the keyboard for so long that your computer screen went on Standby. And the text fields of your interrogation report remained blank.

"Sorry what?" you mumbled, realizing too late that the reason you lost yourself in your thoughts in the first place was from recalling the events of the interrogation from earlier. Specifically the way your lover's voice and overall aura darkened as he threatened a variant of reminding them specifically what kind of person he was on the once Sacred Timeline.

Of showing them a sampling of the terrible awful things that he could do, especially now given that the magic barrier had been switched off. You had only the slightest whispers of an idea, given what you'd read from his file and the files of multiple variants of him.

Shadow casting. Duplication casting. An entire pocket dimension filled with who knows what. And then there was the telepathy. The telekinesis. The illusion projection. The mind control.

Which powers did your Loki have, you wondered. And which ones would he utilize in the name of those terrible, awful things?

And why did the prospect of him using those powers on you stir something in you that currently had you struggling not to squirm in your seat from the arousal?

"You look as if you keep drifting off, darling. Are you feeling alright?" Loki reached out to cup the side of your face in his large hand, the contact hitting him with a barrage of the thoughts that had been swimming through your mind since the interrogation. "Oh…" he rasped, moving his hand to weave his fingers through your hair. "I see now what has stolen your ability to focus on this…simple tedious task."

"Hmmm?" you replied absently, soft whimpers escaping you once the god leaned in and started pressing kisses from your temple down to your neck. This wasn't helping your wandering thoughts in the slightest. And then he wrapped his arm around you, lifting you up from your seat and maneuvering you to straddle his thigh. "Loki," you whined, a sharp gasp escaping you when he nipped at the spot between your neck and shoulder.

"Quiet, darling," he told you in a low teasing tone. "You wish to know which powers I possess? I'm more than happy to give you a little demonstration." He brought a hand up to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly at the sides. "I've cast an illusion wherein our colleagues are none the wiser to our…current predicament. All they see is us, sitting side by side, your lover patiently waiting for you to finish your report."

He flexed the muscles of his thigh, the motion causing a delicious friction between your legs. You let out the start of a moan before his fingers tightened around your neck for a fraction of a second.

"Much as I would adore to hear those beautifully filthy sounds from you, my love, I'm going to have to implore you stay silent. See, if you make any noise that could draw people's attention to us, the illusion breaks. And we'll be disciplined." With a wave of his hand, your jacket disappeared and reappeared neatly folded on the table in front of you. He kissed at your now exposed arm. "Can you breathe alright?"

Butterflies fluttered violently at your stomach at the question, choosing to nod instead of voicing your answer.

"Good girl." A rush of arousal pooled between your thighs at his words. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from making a sound when he nipped at your skin. Another wave of his hand and you suddenly felt cool wispy tendrils grasping at your waist and moving you to grind on your boyfriend's thigh. "I must admit, dear Y/N, I rather enjoy finding these more…pleasurable uses of my abilities. Especially with how deliciously responsive your exquisite form is under my touch." He kissed his way up to your ear. "I look forward to using them all with you. Perhaps later tonight, in our home."

The tendrils held you tighter, pressing you down harder against his thigh before proceeding to undulate your hips. The increased friction, along with how he was kissing and nipping away at your earlobe, had you letting out a strangled moan before his hold tightened on you again, your head swimming from the pressure.

"What did I say about breaking the illusion, my darling?" he growled, the gravel in his voice making you even wetter. "Do you wish to give every soul in this library a show of how desperate and wanton I can make you? Is that it?" He flexed his thigh again the same time that the wispy tendons ground your hips harder against it, a barely muted whimper coming out of you before you bit down hard on your lip and shook your head. "Then stay quiet, sweet mortal. Lest you wish for me to find something within my pocket dimension to stuff that beautiful mouth of yours with."

You did what you could to look down at what was moving you, your mouth forming in an 'O' when you saw that it was his shadows. You let out the tiniest whimper of his name, the pressure on the side of your neck lessening when he stroked at your skin with his thumb.

"I'm going to lift this illusion and then you shall finish your report so that I may bring you home and we can move on to a more…thorough demonstration," he rasped, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "With a little help from a few friends of mine." A flash of Loki's green magic from the corner of your eye caught your attention, his shadows grinding you down even harder on his thigh once you caught sight of two duplicates of him waving and smirking at you. One was wearing that ruffled tuxedo that on paper looked unremarkable on the average man.

But Loki was no average man. He was a god. Your god.

And the other duplicate was dressed exactly as such. With the gold horns and the black and green leather, his usual obsidian curls straightened and slicked back with a menacing look in his eyes as his gaze roamed your body.

The feel of his thigh flexing against your slit had you bringing back your attention to the Loki that held you in place. Your Loki. The real one.

"But first, I want you to soak my thigh."

A/N: Anon, whoever you are, I hope you're having the absolute best day because getting this in my asks had me staring at the ceiling and immediately typing down a lil note in my writing schedule to make this 🫠 Hopefully I did your thot justice

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[moondirti]

sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.

cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI

he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.

the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.

for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.

if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.

the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.

maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–

your dog's cute. what's his name?

it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.

you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.

unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.

he's tired of holding back.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time

I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.

CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish because I’m projecting 😋, Kisses

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”

“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”

“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“

And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.

You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.

Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.

It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.

You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.

You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.

You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”

You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.

“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”

Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—

“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”

Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;

“I love you.”

…just like that it was a pause.

It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.

“What?”

Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”

You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.

“Go—?”

He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.

“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”

He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.

“What are you doing, you okay?”

“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”

Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”

He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”

It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”

You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“

You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.

“Say it again.”

You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again, but in Spanish.”

“Oh brother.”

“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”

“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”

If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closeted would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.

Just Satoru.

Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.

You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.

However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“

You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”

Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.

Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.

Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.

Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;

To feel human.

[starkwlkr]

the sound of my voice will haunt you | mark webber

part 1 part 2

Grace sat in a chair watching you and Mark talk. She was so bored that she started to imagine herself as you. She found a head set and slipped them over her ears. While she played pretend, you were facing reality talking with Mark.

“Does she know about me?” Mark asked.

“She only knows your name. I never talked to her about you. Why would I? You threw it all away so easily, Mark. You broke my heart.” You snapped at him. You had to calm yourself since your daughter was just a few feet away.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and the amount of times I say I’m sorry isn’t going to fix it.”

“If this is you telling me you want to be in Grace’s life, you have no right.”

Mark knew that. It absolutely broke him that he had a daughter and he couldn’t be with her, but he had fucked it all up. He looked over at the young girl and saw how she played with the head set. She was a miniature version of you.

“I know and I won’t ask for forgiveness of any kind, not from you or Grace. You’ve done an amazing job raising her.” He continued. “Maybe one day you could tell her about me? If not, i understand.”

“As if you told anyone about me in your book. Mark, I did everything for you. I got in trouble for driving you to races, my parents almost took away my keys! I worked day and night in a shitty restaurant, I almost missed my own graduation because of you! A little note would’ve been nice, but it’s as if I never existed in your world. It hurt me.” You held back tears. Suddenly you’re a teenager again hearing all the loud yelling coming from your parents for driving Mark to his races.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to mention you at all. . . ” He said quietly.

“You’re my past now, I would love to stay away from the past. So when you do attend any of the upcoming races and Grace is here, don’t talk to her. It would be better if she didn’t know about you. Please.” You stated.

My own daughter won’t know about me

Mark understood. It would be better after all.

“Okay.” Was all he managed to say. He nodded and lanced one last time at Grace. “Goodbye.”

Before he could leave, Grace looked at him. She wondered why he looked sad. “Why are you sad? Is your favorite team not winning?” She asked Mark.

“Grace. . . It’s time to go.” You hoped Mark wouldn’t start a conversation, but he did. Of course he was making it harder for you.

“Actually, I used to drive for the team that’s winning and I was okay for a number two driver.” Mark crouched down to talk to Grace.

“Did you win lots of races?” She asked.

Mark let out a chuckle. “I won nine races.”

Grace gasped. “My dad won nine races too!”

At that moment, you wished you were anywhere else. Why couldn’t Mark just leave? Why did Grace have to be nice to everyone and be so curious? And why did you tell Grace that her dad was a driver?

“Your dad? He drives?” Mark questioned.

Grace nodded. “Well I think he doesn’t anymore. Mom said my dad was a driver and that he won nine races, but that’s all I know. I had to make a school project about my family and I asked mom about my dad. Do you know my dad?”

Before Mark could reply, you stepped in. “Sweetheart, it’s time for him to leave. Come on, we’ll get ice cream on the way back.”

“Bye!” Grace waved to the unknown man as you grabbed her hand and walked away from Mark.

He felt a little okay knowing his daughter knew something about him. Maybe one day you would change your mind and let Grace know the truth.

MIAMI 2024

Mark wouldn’t see you or Grace until the Miami Grand Prix. He honestly didn’t feel like even going, but Oscar insisted. At least he wasn’t going to be alone, Jenson was also going, but the British man would be conducting interviews. He kept busy looking at his phone until found him in the Mclaren hospitality. He wasn’t sure why you were even looking for him in the first place.

“Can you look after Grace? My friend couldn’t make it and she was the only person I trust to look after her. I wouldn’t ask if I had another option.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of her.” Mark nodded, putting his phone away. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Oscar in his driver’s room. Just please don’t mention the obvious.” You demanded.

“I won’t, but can I ask one thing?” He stared at your eyes that he still loved after many years. “Why did you tell Grace that her dad won nine races and that he was a driver? You could’ve lied.”

You didn’t want to lie to your daughter, you just couldn’t so you told her part of the truth. Technically, you didn’t think she would even meet Mark ever.

“I can’t lie to her. She knows when I’m lying anyways.” You said.

“What’s her favorite color?” Mark suddenly asked. “I want to know at least some stuff about her so I can talk to her. What if she gets bored halfway through the race?”

You hesitated even telling Mark, but you did anyway. “Her favorite color changes everyday, but today it’s purple. She loved coloring with chalk, she wants to have a puppy and name it Goose like the character from Top Gun, her favorite book series is Junie B. Jones and she tells everyone that she’s tall for her age.” You listed several things.

Mark smiled as he listened to you. “Top Gun? We watched Top Gun on our first date, you know?”

“You’re so annoying.”

You and Mark walk back to the Mclaren garage, which obviously made several people confused. Were you back together? No, you couldn’t be . . . right? By the time the race was close to starting, photos of you and Mark were everywhere. Even Sebastian had texted Jenson wondering about you and Mark.

Grace was sitting next to Mark when the race began. She occasionally glanced at him then grabbed his paddock pass and read his name.

“You’re here with Oscar?” She asked.

Mark nodded. “I’m his manager.”

“So you’re like his dad when his dad is not here?”

“That’s one way to put it.” He chuckled. “Your mum told me you like want a puppy.”

Grace’s eye lit up with joy. “Yes! The puppy is going to be named Goose and they’re going to sleep in my bed.”

Mark hardly payed attention to the race. He kept asking questions in hopes that he could learn more about her. Once in a while, you would look back only to see Mark and Grace laughing.

“One time, my mom almost lost her necklace because she was dancing too hard to her favorite song. It fell and we looked everywhere for it but we couldn’t see it because it was a small letter. But I found it!” Grace said which made Mark question if it was the same necklace that he had given you years ago.

“What letter was it?”

“I think it was M?”

The ‘M’ necklace was a gift from Mark on your first anniversary. It was old, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it. If anyone asked what the M stood for, you lied saying it was your middle name or for someone in your family.

“Does your mum always wear it?” Mark asked.

“Not anymore. But I think it’s pretty.” Grace replied. “Your name starts with M!”

All Mark did was nod.

The race had finished and soon you were back to your daughter. She had told you how Mark has dogs and invited her to meet them.

“Grace, can you go sit over there for a little while? I need to talk to Mark.” You pointed to the seat that she was sitting during the race. She obeyed and now it was just you and Mark. “Thank you. I really hope she wasn’t too much to handle.”

Mark shook his head. “She’s very talkative when it comes to her favorite things. She’s a great kid.” He debated whether to tell you about the necklace story that Grace had told him. Finally, he decided he would keep that to himself.

“I wanted you to hear this from me instead of the media. I’m leaving the team after this season.” You said only loud enough for him to hear.

“But you’ll be back, right? I mean the team is doing well, Lando just won his first ever race, obviously it could’ve been better for Oscar, but you are the heart and soul of this team.” Mark could see a frown forming on your face.

“I love this team, but it’s time for me to be a mom. Grace needs me, Mark. I already told Zak and it’s final. They’ll announce my departure soon. Thanks again for looking after Grace, this is the last time you’ll see her.”

He was glad that he could at least spend some time with Grace. She was a joy to be around. Their time together was something Mark would cherish forever.

For the rest of the 2024 season, Mark stopped calling you the Mclaren team principal and, instead, used your name. He praised you, gave you the credit you deserved and defended you any time. Mark had even made a statement about the person who had leaked the information about you and him when he talked with Fernando. It was rumored that a photographer had leaked it. He knew nothing was going to change, but he needed to correct his wrongs. It all started with an instagram post about you.

INSTAGRAM

(this is just for fanfic purposes, you can use any faceclaim)

liked by oscarpiastri, f1 and 837,377 others

aussiegrit everyone i meet will have to know you, to understand me. anyone that truly knows me, knows your name.

comments are limited

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[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary:Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, somnophilia, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cream pie, consumption of drugs (weed and coke), angst, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 5.7K

A/N: Sorry this chapter took forever. I had finals and a research project I had to finish before I could finish this chapter. On a good note I'm done with the school year so I have update more. I hope that y'all enjoy it!

Chapter 5: Don’t go breaking my heart

The sun shining through the thin curtains glows on your face, the light seeping through your eyelids. You started to stir awake, there was a warming tingle in your lower abdomen that kept getting more intense. The more you woke up you could feel hands on your hips, a tongue licking up your folds slowly before circling your clit and giving it a suck. Cracking your eyes open, you look down your body to meet Rafe’s blue eyes. You moan, hand reaching out to brush your fingers along his exposed cheek and then grabbing the back of his head.

Rafe’s tongue separates your folds, probing at your entrance and going up to your clit again. His right hand glides over your hip, under your leg to find your pussy. His ring and middle finger circling your entrance to collect your slink, pushing forward into you and curling upward. “Been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes. I made you breakfast.” His head tilts to the side, leaning down to give you a quick lick, his fingers pumping in and out of you. “But I think I’m gonna eat my breakfast first.” The end of his sentence being muffled as he buries his head in between your thighs.

You moan, throwing your head back, the feeling of his mouth and fingers causing your eyes to roll back. Moving your head to the side you look at where he pointed to, sure enough there is a tray sitting on the bedside table. Rafe’s fingers give a particularly hard thrust, scrapping your g-spot in the process. Your gaze goes back to him, his eyes are closed, humming into your pussy as he shakes his head side to side. You can see him grinding down on the bed, his pace matching the one of his fingers pumping into you.

All you can do is moan at the sight. He looks beautiful between your legs, the closed eyes just adding to your pleasure, just knowing he is enjoying this as much as you are. Rafe’s eyes open, locking into your face. “You gonna cum for me, beautiful? I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” His words vibrate around you; it sends shock waves to your clit, pushing you further off the cliff you were on the edge on. “Be a good girl and cum.” 

Your body convulses as your orgasim crashes through your body. “There you go. That’s a good girl.” His fingers don’t let up, slowly fucking till it’s too much for you to handle. He pulls his fingers out from you, licking you clean before kissing up your body. Stopping just to take your nipples in his mouth and giving them a few sucks. His body covers you, his arms caging you in. “Good morning.” He says bringing the fingers that were inside you to his mouth, moaning around the fingers as he tastes you again. “Fucking delicious.” The compliment makes you blush.

“Good morning to you too.” You whisper at him, bringing him down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Mhmmm I still think you taste better. Miss it really.” Your hand goes to pull his shorts down but is met with a wet spot on his shorts. You glance down and look back at him with a questioning look. Rafe buries his head in your neck not wanting you to see the embarrassment written on his face. “Sorry. Came in my fucking pants like a horny pubesent teen.” The words are mumbled into your skin. You take your hand and rub the back of his head, nails raking his scalp, relaxing him.

“It’s okay. I think it's hot that you did. Means you were enjoying it as much as I was.” Your lips are brushing against his ear, your other hand rubbing his back. “Yeah? How much were you enjoying it?” His tone was teasing, his fingers digging into your sides causing you to giggle. Rolling off you, Rafe gets up to grab the tray and hand it to you. “Here it might be cold but I thought you should eat something.” Rafe walks over to you, covering you with a blanket, placing the tray on your lap.

Looking down you can see that he made you. There’s a plate of scrambled eggs and two slices of toast with grape jam on them, a glass of oj along with it. But what really caught your eye was the pack of plan b that was laid out on the tray. “Rafe what’s this?” You ask, holding the package. He turns to look at you while pulling up new sweats. “Oh I got that last night while you were getting the food. Um I thought it’s better to be safe than sorry. You know, since we haven’t been using a condom.” He shrugs making his way back over to you, laying down next to you as you pick at the food.

“The safest option would be us using condoms. But that seems to be out of the question.” You munch on a piece of toast, bringing it closer to him so he can take a bite. Rafe licks his lips, the jam getting all over them. “Good that you know it’s not an option.” His fingers start to trace your arm, wrapping around your wrist to bring you hand over, placing a kiss to the palm. “I got us a few boxes. Didn’t want to run out.” You push him off of you, his lips leaving a slight warmth to your skin.

“Very funny Cameron. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You stuff another piece of toast in your mouth, hoping your chewing will hide the fat your heart is racing. You don’t know why you said it, you know you mean it but still. He’s never going to let this down, he is always going to remind you that you had called him pretty. “Hmm pretty. Haven’t heard that one.” He has a little smirk on his face when you look at him. “I think you’re pretty too Sunny.” The words followed by a sweet kiss. 

Pulling away you both can’t help but smile, Rafe leaning in once again to steal another kiss from you. “Finish up here and get ready. I’m gonna hop in the shower and then we are going out.” He shuffles off the bed, hunching over to peck your legs making you giggle. “I would finish faster if I had some good food. Like some chocolate chip pancakes.” You tease him. “You’re not six babe. You can’t just eat sweets for breakfast.” You gasp. “Of course I can. They are the best things ever created.”Wrong, he thought you were the best thing created. His thoughts had shocked him, he can’t be thinking like this. He would only ruin you with the cloud of violence that followed him. 

“Going where?” Your voice breaks his thoughts, he looks up at you for a second, hands massaging your calves. Rafe needs the moment to bury the thoughts deep down the vault he keeps the rest of his emotions in, locking them up so they can’t crawl their way out. “I’m taking you out on the Druthers. Wear that little bathing suit I like.” He winks at you before disappearing into his bathroom. You sit there on the bed, finishing the last bit of food before taking the plan b and getting up. 

It didn’t take you long to get ready, the shower being quick and picking out clothes wasn’t hard. You already knew Rafe wanted you to wear the lavender bathing suit you recently got. He went crazy when you first wore it by the pool, he wouldn’t leave you alone the whole afternoon. Always asking you if you needed a refill of whatever drink you had and even going as far as offering to add more sunscreen to your skin. Rafe was never shy when it came to flirting with you but that day too the cake, it wasn’t just flirting it was desperation at that point. The thought alone makes you squeeze your thighs trying to dull the throbbing between your legs.

You pull on shorts and a crop top, checking yourself out in the mirror you see a hickey on the side of your neck. A whistle catches your attention, you can see Rafe leaning on your door frame. “Now isn’t this a view.” He uncrosses his arms, pushing off the door and walking up behind you. He brushes your hair to one side kissing up your neck. His eyes are watching you through the mirror, focusing on your smile. Rafe leans his head forward capturing your lips, his hand making their way to your neck, placing a delicate chain around you. 

He pulls back, clasping the necklace in place and fixing your hair. You look down at your collar bone noticing the sun pendant resting there. “What is this?” The question barely leaves your lips, your eyes fixated as you play with the charm between your fingers. “I made another stop yesterday. I wanted to get you something pretty.” He’s not looking at you, eyes trained to your fingers playing with the sun charm. He clears his throat, eyes flicking up before moving back down. “It’s a sun because you know… you’re my Sunny.” 

His eyes are staring back at yours now. The two of you frozen in your spots waiting for the other to say something. Your eyes move back to the mirror, seeing writing on the other side of the small charm. You lean closer, flipping it over to see a cursive R on the back. “R?” You look back at him, turning around to face him. His left hand reaches to rub the back of his neck, scratching it. “Um… I just thought. I” He looks at you for a moment gathering his thoughts. He can feel the word vomit about to start and he wants to just change the topic, but then he looks at you. Your wide doe like eyes shining up at him, your hand reaching for his, fingers slotting together. “I wanted you to have a piece of me. I don’t know it’s stupid I just. Fuck I don’t like it when guys come up to talk to you, that they think they can have you. Just needed you to have me with you so you know you're mine.” 

“Do I need to give you something now so you know you’re mine?” His lips twitch into a smile, you’re just as jealous as he is.  Rafe wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “Why would I need another girl when I have all that I want right in front of me.” He whispers, his lips crashing onto yours. He admitted he’s yours, in his own way he dulled all your worries. You pull away from the kiss, looking at him, loving the goofy smile on his lips. “I love it baby. Thank you.” 

Rafe’s thumb caresses your face, pecking your nose before dragging you both out of your room. “Come on, we should get going.” You pull back causing him to stop on the stairs, at this height you are taller than him. “Wait. I… I am yours, just so you know. I don’t just go sleeping around with people.” Rafe releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He pulls you down, kissing you. “I would really hope not. Don’t really want to be arrested for murder.” You giggle walking ahead of him. “Come one big bad wolf, you promised me a boat day.”

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The wind was blowing your hair all over the place, you had to keep swiping it away from your eyes. Rafe was in the boat's cockpit steering the both of you further out to sea. You were sitting on the bench looking out to the water, watching as the boat crashed over the waves.  A smell infiltrates your nose, it's pungent, you glance at rafe your suspicions confirmed. Rafe is standing there, left hand on the wheel, the right hand has a blunt pressed to his lips. You watch as he takes a puff, his hand resting on the wheel as he exhales. “What are you doing?”

He looks over his shoulder to look at you, turning ahead again and taking another hit. “Just having a quick smoke. Don’t worry I want to go off killing us.” He jokes, throwing you a little smirk taking a hit just to blow the smoke at you. You giggle, flapping your arms around to get the smoke out of your face. You stand up walking over to him, your arms wrap around his waist from behind, his beck to your chest. “I would hope not, I’m not close to being done with you.” Standing on the ball of your feet, you nip at his ear.

Rafe lets out a little groan, moving around to stop the boat, turning around to have you in his arms. “I like the sound of that. What do you want to do with me Sunny?” He taunts, walking around you to anchor the boat. “Well if you wouldn’t walk away you might be able to find out.” You are playing with the hem of your top, exposing your stomach. Rafe looks at you taking another hit before walking back to you. “Well maybe I don’t want us drifting out to sea. I don’t know how the sharks would feel about our show.” 

Rafe has the blunt hanging on his lips, removing his snapback he places it back on so it backwards. It distracts you for a moment, entranced by just looking at him. Sharks. Rafe just mentioned sharks. “Do you really think there are sharks?” You ask, eyes skirting around the water to see anything. One of his hands cups your face, forcing eye contact. “Hey. I’m sure there are no sharks around. Plus we’ll be on the boat anyway, nothing’s going to hurt you.” He’s right. The irrational fear you had of sharks and the creatures of the sea couldn’t harm you from up here. Unless there’s a freak storm and the boat collapses. You need a distraction, a change of topic.

You look down at the blunt Rafe is holding, there’s still half of it there. “What’s it like?” You’re genuinely curious. You always wondered what could possibly be so great about weed, all of your friends praised it but you just didn’t understand. “Getting high?” Rafe is confused by your question, he thought you didn’t care for this stuff. You turned down Benny’s offer when he asked, yet again he was being a creep so it’s probably a good thing you did. “Yeah, I always wanted to know.” He’s staring at you trying to think about what to say. “It’s like feeling on cloud 9. The thoughts in your head get blurred in this haze. Everything just feels better.” 

“Can I try it?” He watches your face for a second, trying to see if you are serious. When he doesn’t see any sign of you joking he straightens a little, shifting the weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, okay. Um how ‘bout we try this. Open your mouth for me baby, yeah just like that. Now when I exhale you inhale okay?” You nod telling him you understand. Rafe brings the blunt to his lips, taking a puff before leaning in. His lips are right against yours as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. You inhale coughing a little towards the end due to the smoke tickling.

“How was that?” Rafe asks, taking a hit for himself as he looks down at you. “Good. Can we do it again?” You step closer to him, grabbing his hand to bring the blunt to your mouth, ready to take a real hit. “Nah baby. Let's try one more time. Gotta make sure you know how to do it properly.” He smirks as he takes the hit, lips crashing to yours as the smoke rushes into your mouth to your lungs. He’s devouring you with this kiss, his hand going for your hip, squeezing it as he backs you into the wheel. He breaks the kiss looking down at you. “Good?”He whispers.

“Fucking amazing.” He slowly brings the blunt to your lips, watching as the wrap around the end as you take a pull. You wince from the slight burning pain, exhaling rapidly to release the smoke. “Alright I think that’s enough for you.” Rafe laughs out, taking the final pull before putting the blunt out. He’s probably right, your body feels so light. As if every step you take is actually on a cloud. You feel great. A giggle slips past your lips. “What’s so funny?” Rafe questions, pulling his shirt off to combat the heat.

“Nothing, I just feel great.” Another giggle leaves your body. There are tingles shooting throughout your body, everything just feels hazy. Rafe watches you with a smile, admiring the way your smile lights up your whole face. His eyes catch the necklace, liking the fact that in some way you're his. That’s why he really got it for you. You may not know it and the world may not know it but you’re his. The nagging thoughts start to claw at his chest, his throat tightening from discomfort. She’s not yours, this means nothing. The words swirl in his mind, you really aren’t his, you never will be. There’s no way that someone as perfect as you would want to be with someone as broken as he is. Rafe turns around making his way down the stairs to get to the little kitchen, trying to escape the raw feeling he has. “Want anything to drink?”

He’s gone by the time you try to talk to him, confused you follow his lead. “Sure, I’ll just have water.” Nothing else is said in return. You find him going through the fridge, his back is to you ducking down to get a view of what’s inside. You walk up closer, laying a hand in the middle of his back, doing a small soothing circle. He tenses at the feeling of your hand, handing you the water bottle and putting a distance between you two. “Is everything okay?” Rafe looks at you, noticing the wide eye worry look you have. It’s usually reserved for Wheezie or Sarah but now here you are, giving him that look. “Yeah, just got in my head for a second.” He tries to brush it off, change the subject before that look breaks his resolve.

“You know you can talk to me. What did I say about communication?” You got him, he knows if he voices his concerns, how he worries he isn’t good enough. That he would never deserve to be with you, how he can only hurt you in the end like he always does. He knows you would comfort him and tell him he’s more than that. But he can’t bring himself to do it, all the times Ward yelled at him for voicing his feelings, come rushing in. Be a man, this isn’t how men act Rafe. Grow up. So he does.

“Nothing to talk about, just something about tonight. Gotta figure out who I want to push to.” It looks like you believe him, for a slight moment the worry dissolves from your face. If you don’t believe him you don’t say anything, trusting his words you let it go. “Why don’t we go sunbathe? It’s getting pretty hot don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, setting the water down so you can remove your shirt and then the shorts. Being left in the lavender bikini you make your way out to the deck to lay down. Rafe’s footsteps can be heard following you, tilting your head you can see he took his shirt off. You stare at him, smirking when you see he left the backwards snapback on.

“You wore the bikini.” He states, laying down next to you. “It’s a good bathing suit. You should try it on.” You giggle, seeing Rafe shake his head and chuckle. “I don’t think it would look good on me. But you baby, fuck, it looks great on you.” He turns to his side facing you, his hand skimming along your skin, lightly pulling at the bottom of your top. “Let me rephrase, I suggest it because it requires you to remove it from me.” You turn now, looking at him, enjoying his arm pulling you closer. “I like the sound of that.” He leans in kissing you. Your senses are heightened by the weed, the kiss tickling your lips. 

You roll on your back, taking Rafe’s arm as you go. The sun gets blocked when he comes into your eye line. “You’re perfect Sunny.” His lips crash to yours, the kiss deepening as you spread your legs letting him get closer. His left hand slides up your side, cupping your breast, playing with it. You are just so perfect, made for him in every way. Your hips start to grind up, wanting to feel Rafe, wanting him inside. Soon he gets the message, grinding his hips down to meet yours. Through his shorts you can feel his dick start to get harder, he lets out a groan. Rafe pulls at the strings at your top, slipping it off of you making his way down to your chest. “Rafe please.” You whine grinding harder on him, the barely there bottoms makes it feel like there’s nothing between you. “Please, what baby? Hmm?” He latches onto your right nipple, his hand pinching your left one. He starts to rub it between his pointer finger and thumb, a moan escapes your mouth, your back arching up. 

“I don’t hear any words coming out.” he mumbles, pinching your nipple harder. “Please baby. I want to feel you inside me. Don’t you wanna fuck me?” He glances up through his eyelashes, his eyes locking to yours. “Been wanting to fuck you since I met you. I’m never going to give this up.” There are tingles spreading through your body at every kiss he gives your skin, making his way down until he reaches your bottoms. “God this bikini has been killing me.” His finger tugging at the strings and removing it. “Gonna do something about it.” You moan out as he kisses your thigh, licking a strip along to get a taste of you. You are glistening, the sun making your wet pussy look drench. Well you were, the weed made you feel horny, making out with Rafe definitely didn’t help. 

“Fucking soaked, Sunny.” He spreads your folds, licking up to your clit and placing a kiss there. “Rafe?” Your voice caught his attention. “Fuck me.” He gives you another kiss and goes back up to kiss you. “Your wish is my command.” You pull down his shorts, giving him a few strokes, teasing his tip with your thumb. He swats your hand away, lining his tip but not entering you. Rafe starts to rock his hips, his dick gliding between your folds. He goes on like that for a minute. Try to have you break, he uses his thumb to hold him closer to you, his tip hitting your clit each time. Every whine that escapes you sends shivers down his spine, he wants to fuck you but he needs you to beg him. “Please.” the airyness of your voice does him in.

The feeling of him pushing in is ecstasy, setting everything in your body on fire. His body is covering you, your face buried in his shoulder to block out your noises. You bite into his shoulder, fingers digging into his biceps as he rocks into you. The pace is nice and slow, different from the other times. Rafe’s dick drags slowly, every vein of his dick can be felt. Opening your eyes you are blinded by the sun, squinting them to adjust to the light. “Rafe” you moan out. His head moves, pecking your cheek, your nose, then your mouth. “I’m here baby.” His hand brushes your hair away from your face, holding you head, stabilizing himself with his arm. “I got you.” The words tickle you, his breath fanning over your lips.

The sounds of the waves crashing on the side of the boat fades into background noise. All you can hear is the sounds of Rafe’s groans and your own moans. The squelching of your pussy getting louder the more you get lost in the feeling. The feeling was too much, getting overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your g-spot. “It’s okay baby, you can come.” The confirmation was enough to send you overboard. Your orgasim crashes down on you, shocking your whole system. “That’s it. Such a good girl for me.”

Rafe grabs one of your hands, bringing it over your head and intertwining your fingers. His other arms wrap around you, your head resting on his forearm as you are pressed together. “You feel so perfect. Fucking amazing.” He moans out, ready to cum at any moment. “Cum in me. I need you to fill me, baby.” You whisper into his ear. His hips start to flutter, losing his rhythm. “Come on, be a goodboy a fill me up.” He was done for. Cumming in you was just something that he’s been playing into, liking that he’s marking you in a different intimate way. Hearing that you want it, hearing you asking to be filled up by his cum was like winning the lottery. At least it was for him.

As he reaches his orgasim, Rafe’s body starts to shake. This is the strongest he’s ever cum, his arm and fingers tightening around you. You both lay there, bodies pressed to another. Rafe doesn’t let you go as he fills you, staying there until you tell him to move. Slowly he moves away, looking at your flushed face as he pulls back. He uses his shirt to wipe away the mess between your legs. “How are you feeling?” He asks standing over you causing him to look down. “I feel great.” Your hand blocks the sun from your eyes. Getting up you put your bikini back on and walk back to the steering wheel to head back home. The sun is setting now making the water look like it’s glowing.

Rafe makes his way over, starting the boat and costing off to get back. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” Thinking about Rafe’s question, you don’t see the harm in going. It could be good to get out of the house, be around people other than each other. “Sure why not.” You shrug. “Good gotta show my girl off.” His hands reach for your waist pulling you in, his heading going to the crook in your neck, placing delicate kisses along the flesh. He’s doing it again. Messing up the lines, knocking down the walls you keep putting up. “Your girl?” You question tilting your head to the side, giving him more access. “Yeah my girl.” He mumbles against your skin.

 A warming sensation can be felt in your chest, going straight to your cheeks. You giggle pulling away, getting your clothes to put them on. “Okay play your cards right and that might be true.” You step on the balls of your feet, getting closer to his lips for a kiss. It lasts a few seconds, lips molding against each other. Pulling away you both smile. “I’ll meet you there, yeah? I gotta meet some people who are buying off of me.” His eyes are shining, it must be the light, but they look fuller, happier. “Meet you there.” The rest of the ride back to the dock was filled with silence. Both of you are enjoying the moment and thinking, everything seems to be working out. You don’t know why you were worried in the first place.

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Rafe got to the bonfire an hour ago, spending the time talking to some people and selling to others. He ran into Topper and Kelce around twenty minutes ago, catching up about what happened after the country club. The two boys not believing that you of all people would even give Rafe a chance. They knew he had a thing for you, he would tell them all the time what he would do if you gave him a chance. So hearing he got it, especially after that scene they don’t buy it. “There’s no way you are sleeping with her. She looked like she wanted to kill you the other day.” Topper laughs while taking another sip of his beer. Kelce starts to go in a different direction, calling him crazy for even going for it in the first place. Sure he thought you were hot and would do the same, but Rafe is crazy if he thinks this would work.

“Dude do you really think that would work out? She literally works for you.” Kelce laughs out. “She works for my dad, not me.” Rafe tries to argue. “Exactly. Imagine Ward finding out you’re banging the nanny. He’ll blow a casket once he finds out.” The rest of his words are lost on Rafe. Fuck he’s right, Ward would kill him. Ward would never trust him again, further making him the black sheep they labeled him as. “She always brushed you off this year. Don’t you think this is just something fun to pass the time? I mean she literally only slept with you because no one is home. What’s going to happen when the fam gets back.” Kelce’s words snap him from his own thoughts. You’re only sleeping with him because everyone is out of town. Of course this was just some dumb hookup, he’s the king of them why would he think differently.

Rafe walks away going straight to the keg to fill his cup, chugging it just to fill it once again. He can’t do this right now, his thoughts screaming at him at how much of a fuck up he is. He’s left alone for a week with you and he’s fucked up the rest of his life. An over exaggeration but that’s how he feels. He can already see his dad’s reaction, Ward screaming at him with that disappointed look that's only reserved for him. The negative thoughts keep whispering in his mind, confirming to him how messed up he is. He goes through the motions of the atmosphere around him, taking bumps of coke to chase the high he craved. Each bump clouds his brain, he hasn’t done coke in a couple of days. Not needing it to help him get through the day, to lay the thoughts to bed.

The coke makes him forget he completely promised to meet you here. At this moment he doesn’t care, only wanting to get high and forget about what is happening with you. He doesn’t know how it happens but soon enough he’s sitting off away from the party, on some log with this girl on him. She’s kissing him, grinding into his lap clawing at his head. Something feels off for him not really getting into it like he normally would. He blames it on the coke, since he hasn’t taken it in a while all the bumps are getting to him. It doesn’t matter to him, this is just something to distract him, that’s all he needs.

That’s how you catch him, sitting on the log with some girl on top of him. You got here almost ten minutes ago a little late due to you taking forever to get ready. You spotted Rafe’s truck when you got here so you thought finding him would be easy but you were wrong. There were a lot of people here, there normally is but this party seems larger. Bodies of people push up against you as you walk past them. You had seen Topper asking if he saw Rafe. He looked around saying he left a little bit ago not making eye contact with you. You knew he was lying since you saw his truck but brushed it off to continue looking for him. Shortly after you made your way to the outskirts of the party, away from most of the people, that’s when you saw them.

You just stand there and watch as he puts his hand on this girl, making out with her, practically fucking each other for everyone to see. You walk closer to them, your mind begging you to turn away but the other part needs to know if it really was him. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you, it’s too dark to even be sure. The girl pulls away from him “Why don’t we get out of here?” She asks, grabbing his hand as she stands, and you watch him nod to her request. Standing his eyes locked onto yours, tears streaming down your face. “Sunny?” You don’t want to hear what he has to say, you turn around trying to put as much distance between you and them. Rafe’s voice calls out to you, people turn their heads to look at the commotion. The sight being Rafe standing there frozen in place with a girl wrapped around him and you running off to where the cars are parked. 

You recognized the girl, she was one of the workers at the country club, Sofia. How dumb could you have been? Of course he was fucking other people, you weren’t exclusive. Thinking that all those moments and sweet words actually meant something to him like they did to you. The necklace feels like it’s burning into your skin, feeling heavy around your neck. You thought that it meant he actually cared for you, that he wanted you to be his. Fuck. You told him you were his, gave him a piece of you that no one has touched. You were stupid to think he would actually want to be with you. It didn’t matter what he said to explain himself, from this moment on Rafe Cameron is dead to you.

[watchyourbuck]

It’s so interesting to me that this entire season has been about ghosts. Both physical and metaphorical, but also conceptual and even made up. Hear me out.

We literally start off with the ghost of Shannon reading Christopher the letter she left for him. A letter Eddie gave to his son in hopes to somehow reunite them. The ghost itself doesn’t appear to Eddie, just to Chris, and we – the audience – can tell it’s her voice that they’re trying to emulate, considering that ‘I can’t remember her voice anymore.’

On that same episode we see the ghost of Athena’s and Bobby’s fears. I know it sounds like I’m reaching but think about it. Athena’s haunted by the fear of having made a mistake by marrying, while Bobby’s afraid he pressured her into it. It looms over them like some kind of shadow, pushing them apart.

Later, with the bi Buck’s arc, we see the ghost of Buck himself. Not the same way we did in the coma dream, though, rather like a devil on his shoulder. A ‘ghost’ in the way of a metaphorical reflection of his inner struggles to finally free himself. It looks for a while there like he’s haunted by the expectations of others and the weight of societal norms, all of which return to him, considering no one else is imposing them (and that’s literally what Tommy tells him: ‘no one’s looking at us, Evan.’).

By the wedding ep, the concept of ghost gets more literal. We see Chimney struggle between his life and his death, represented by Kevin and Doug, respectively. This is insane, actually, because it happens in so little time, but it’s so intense. Doug tries to drag him into the abysm, threatening him with the pain of the woman he can’t remember just yet, but loves to bits. His brother, on the other hand, leads him back home; their home.

Finally, we have Eddie literally hallucinating the ghost of his dead wife and projecting her onto another woman — whilst cheating on his current girlfriend btw. This one’s bonkers actually and it’s so clear to me that Eddie’s not well and that he’s living a delusion that’s gonna come back to bite him in the ass eventually. But alas, it’s the clearest form of ghost we’ve seen so far.

+ 1: Maddie and the ghost of her past (the girl on the passenger seat) on the domestic abuse call that turned out to be a little different than she thought.

[lyjen]

Bad Luck, Good Luck

Summary: Evan and (Y/n) are neighbors, nothing more, nothing less. At least that’s what Evan thinks they are, (Y/n) sees him more than that. When (y/n) discovers that Evan has a girlfriend, she knows she can’t handle seeing him with another girl and decides to move. But what if Evan finds her diary?

Request by: anonymous - The request

9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley 

An annoyed groan fell off (Y/n)’s lips as she felt her phone buzzing and the ringtone sounding through the air. She searched the small compartments of her bag, finally fishing out her phone out of the bag as she swipes her finger along the screen to accept the phone call. She pressed the phone to her ear “(Y/n)” she said with a little annoyed tone overruling her voice.

Everything that could go wrong, went wrong this morning. She had overslept, couldn’t seem to get her hair into form, stained the outfit she had gotten on but didn’t have time to put anything else on and at last but not least, being stuck in Los Angeles traffic on her way to work.

She was now on her way to pick up the coffee order from some colleagues from the office she worked at. Her hand reached out for the door of the coffeeshop, as she pulled the door open and stepped over the threshold. “I’m sorry sir! I just entered the shop to get your coffee, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She said, An annoyed male voice replied back through her phone and abruptly hung up the phone.

Another sigh fell off her lips as she slid the phone back into her bag and got in line to pick up the coffee order. (Y/n) didn’t like the job she did. But it paid well, and she really didn’t know what kind of job she wanted to do. She never knew. No job really spoke to her..

“Sounds like you have a rough day already” a familiar voice sounded through her ears as she scanned her surroundings to find the voice. It wasn’t until he turned his body towards her as she could connect a name to that voice. It was Evan, her neighbor.

With a small smile projected on his face, his eyes found hers. “Tell me about it” she sighed as she slid her hand through her hair, trying subtly to make it look kind of decent. “Slept through my alarm and stained my outfit, not really my best day and look” she said as she pointed at the stain on the chest part of her beige button up shirt.

“Yet this is one of your best looks” Evan says before he could even realize what he said. Maybe a little bit too flirty than he wanted it to sound. “N-Not that you’ve ever looked bad!” He tried to correct himself as he felt his cheeks starting to burn. “And not that I always check the way you look when you walk out the door..” he sighs as he realizes he’s making a fool of himself.

“And.. god I should stop. I sound like a stalker..” he awkwardly smiles as he rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

A smile was spread over (y/n)’s face as he tried to save himself. It was kinda cute the way he was trying to talk himself out of it, the way he smiled at her when he knew he couldn’t talk it right. A small giggle fell off her lips as she nodded. “It’s okay, I know you’re not a stalker..” she smiled down at the ground for a second before she looked back at Evan again. “Just… a neighbor..” she continued.

“Good” he chuckled softly as he dropped his hand down to hold the strap his radio was attached to. “Anyways, if you’re already late.. Why are you here getting coffee?” he asked, confused as he pointed to the signs of the shop hanging around in the space.

She laughed “Part of the routine, and one of the tasks I got from my boss” she nodded, she wasn’t too proud of that part of the job either. “Hmm, assistant job?” Evan asked her as he saw the way he looked back down again. “Yeah.. nobody at the office knows my name but whenever they need coffee, they suddenly know where to find me” she laughs it off as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hey, It’s okay if you still have no clue what you want to do for work.” Evan said as he noticed the way she wanted to get rid of the subject. ”I didn’t know I wanted to be a firefighter until I was twentysix, and after I traveled the country trying out so many jobs.” he continued as he tried to motivate her to not give up. “You traveled the country?” She asked, not sure if he was for real or not.

“Oh yeah, I was a mixologist, construction worker, worked at a ranch and I even joined the Navy Seals for a bit” he said. “You? Working at a ranch?” she laughed. “Yeah, not my finest moment. But I was just trying to figure out who I was” he laughed with her as he held up his hands.

When the laughs stopped filling the space, it went silent. It was nice to talk to someone who also had the same problem as she has right now. But except, he found his calling and she didn’t.. At least not yet.

It was silent, but not the kind of silent where it’s awkward. It was comfortable.

“Order for Buck?” The barista behind the pickup counter said, as his head shot towards the pickup counter as he heard his name. “Yeah that's me” he said as he stepped forward, taking a step towards the counter.

(Y/n) looked around as she waited for her order to be made. “I’ll cover for whatever she orders too.” Evan’s voice sounded through her head as he handed over the money to the barista.

“No.. Evan. I really can’t ask you to do that..” she said as she saw Evan getting the two trays filled with coffee. Evan glanced over to (Y/n) as he balanced the coffee on both his hands.

“You didn’t ask, I offered it. And.. it seemed like you needed some good luck today” He gave her a small smile as he connected his elbow softly with her upper arm. “Guess I owe you now” she smiled.

“Yeah.. I guess you do. But I have to go now.. the team gets grumpy when they don’t get a cup of good coffee before a call” he laughed. She gave him a nod, “See you around” he said as he walked past her.

The entrance bell rang as he pushed the door open. “Oh and by the way..” his voice sounded through the coffeeshop as he was standing in the doorway. ”You can call me Buck”

______

(Y/n) opened the door to the archive room, her boss gave her the assignment to go and clean the archive room since it was a mess. And he was right. Her eyes slowly scanned the space before she stepped over the threshold, and looked around the small space that wasn’t much bigger than a janitor's closet.

A smell of stale, like she walked into an old person’s home was floating through the air and made its way up her nose. There was no window, so she let her hand feel against the side of the wall and searched for the lightswitch. When she found the switch, she flicked it on

It was like she went ten years back in time when she stepped over that threshold. As if she stepped into a time machine. There were loose papers spread over the floor, folders with important documents spread over the small table, boxes with more folders and papers stacked into a storage rack.

A sigh fell off her lips as she looked around. She was an assistant, she wasn’t a warehouse employee or a maid. But she needed this job to pay for her rent, she could look for her dream job or purpose while she worked. The best she could do right now is: do her job, do what they ask to do and nod and say yes.

“Where to begin..” she mumbled as she closed the door behind her so she wouldn’t be a burden to anyone. She decided to start with clearing the table, so she had space to organize lost papers which were everywhere.

But after a few minutes of starting she decided to grab her headphones out of her bag to make it fun. Music always does the trick. She folded out the headphones as she turned the wireless headphone on and put on some music and continued organizing the papers.

One by one she went through all the boxes and started to reorganize them. When (Y/n) carries another box from the shelf, suddenly the lights turn off. “What the hell?” she mumbles with a confused frown projected on her face, she looks around. She placed the box she was just carrying on the ground and slid her headphones off her head and ears and let it rest on her shoulders and around her neck.

Alarms were beeping and screaming as she pushed the headphone off her ears. She felt her heartbeat racing as adrenaline was floating through her body. Her hand found the doorknob, when she turned it and pulled the door towards her the whole floor she was on had already been evacuated. “For fuck sake” the words fell off her lips as she looked around the floor and the light smell of smoke entered her airways.

She ignored the smoke smell and walked fast towards the indicated emergency route. But when she swung the door open a smother of thick gray smoke was blown into her face. Multiple coughs left her mouth as she closed the door as soon as possible. She was trapped. The fire probably came from a few floors below her, and there was no way she could get through that smoke, not even with a piece of fabric in front of her mouth and nose to filter out the smoke.

(Y/n) slid her phone out of her pocket, and her fingers went straight to the green button with a phone projected on it. She dialed the three numbers everyone in the whole wide world had memorized. 9-1-1. and held her phone against her ear.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a female voice spoke over the phone as she picked up. “I’m stuck on the nineteenth floor of the Hound co. office on central street! A-and I don’t know what to do” a small cough interrupted her sentence as she spoke to the lady on the phone. (Y/n) was starting to panic as she came to the realization that there wasn’t a way out for her.

“It’s okay, we’re gonna get you out of there. Units are already on their way.” The woman on the phone tried to calm down (Y/n). “What’s your name ma’am?” The woman continued as she tried to gather as much information as possible. “(Y/n)” she coughed, the smoke was entering the room more and more. It was stinging her eyes and made it hard to see.

“I’m Maddie, Is there anything you can hold in front of your nose and mouth to prevent you from inhaling smoke? A fabric like a t-shirt, jacket, maybe a towel?” Her voice was so calm and reassuring.

“Yes I think I have a scarf tied around my bag” she coughed. “That’s great. If you have it, hold it in front of your nose and mouth” Maddie, the woman on the phone instructs her. (Y/n) unties the scarf from the bag and does whatever she told her to do.

“Now, we want to get you as far away as possible from the smoke. Do you see a fire escape? There must be some kind of stairwell” Maddie asks through the phone. “I looked there just a minute ago and it was filled with smoke. I can’t go through there!” (Y/n) spoke as she walked back towards the staircase.

“(Y/n) I know it's scary, but I need you to go higher.” Maddie’s voice spoke through the speaker of the phone. “I’m here with you and I’m not leaving until help arrives.”she continues. (Y/n) closed her eyes for a brief second as she looked up at the ceiling. She squeezed her eyelids together as she shook her head. “Okay'' she cried as she felt her eyes burning, not only from the tears, but from the smoke in the room.

“Now, go and look for the fire escape” Maddie ordered, and (Y/n) went straight towards the door of the stairwell. “Okay, I’m back at the door of the fire escape” she said as a small cough left her mouth. (y/n) pulled the door open and a wave of smoke was blown again into her face. Immediately she looked down, searching from what floor the fire was coming. “I think the fire is coming from one of the floors below me!” she tried to say between coughs and she pressed the fabric tighter to cover her nose and mouth. “(Y/n) I need you to go up”

Just as (Y/n) wants to turn to go up the staircase, her eyes fall down onto something that probably wasn’t supposed to be there. It was a hand. Quickly (Y/n) stepped down the stairs to make sure there wasn’t anyone else trapped. “Oh my god” she mumbled through the fabric of her scarf as her eyes found a woman’s body down onto the ground, lifeless.

“There’s someone else down here!” she said as she kneeled down next to the woman. “In the stairwell?” Maddie asks. “There’s a woman, I think she may have fallen when she tried to get out of here!” she coughed as the smoke became thicker and thicker with the second.

“Can you tell If she’s still breathing?” the voice on the phone asked. She held her hand which was holding her phone in front of the woman’s face as she felt a small breath of air tickling her skin. “I think she’s still breathing!” she concluded as she held the phone against her ear again so she could hear Maddie talking.

“Okay, we’re not leaving her behind. Here’s what you need to do..” Maddie spoke as she explained the way to help and rescue the unconscious woman. Maddie gave her the instruction to tie the scarf she had pressed against her nose and mouth, around her head so it would still hold back some of the smoke.

(Y/n) rolled the woman onto her back and pushed her up so she was sitting up. She got behind the woman as she grabbed her wrists and lifted her up to her feet. The chest of the woman was pressed against (Y/n)’s back so she could bend her knees and lift her weight onto her shoulders and back.

“What now?” she groaned as she carried the weight of the woman on her back and shoulders. “Move, as fast as you can. Go up, there should be less smoke a few floors up.” Maddie instructed her. “Okay. Heading up!” she groaned at every step she took.

“I’m at twenty one” she coughed, with every breath of air she felt her lungs take less and less air. As if the smoke that went into her lungs had taken the place of the oxygen. Her world was spinning around her, black and white dots were dancing around her vision at every step she took. “Just a few more (Y/n). You can do this.” Maddie tried to motivate her.

“I-.. I can’t..” she stumbled over her words as she felt her knees cave in. “I’m sorry Maddie” she coughed and cried. “It’s okay. If you can, exit the stairwell and find a wall to slide the woman down off your back.” she said.

But before she could do that, her vision went totally black, her vision was taken over by the black and white dots. She could feel her body fall down onto the concrete stairwell, as the body of the woman fell down onto hers, completely crushing her body.

“(Y/n)? Are you still there?”

“Captain Nash, be advised, there are two women in the stairwell on the twenty first floor, unconscious. Name of one of the women is (Y/n).” Maddie’s voice came through the radio as the team stepped out of the truck.

Evan’s hand reached out to the compartment door to get out the oxygen tanks but froze, as his heart dropped down in his chest. That name. That damn’ name. He knew it could be a hundred or thousand other people with that name, but something told him it was her. His neighbor.

“Copy that, dispatch” Bobby spoke into his radio as he pressed the button to speak. “Chimney, Buck and Eddie, you three go in and get those two victims. Hen, you go and start triage, Chimney will join you after.” Bobby ordered his team that was nodding.

Evan, Eddie and Chimney all three put an oxygen tank on their back as they got ready to get into the office building.

“Almost there! One more floor!” Eddie said as Evan was still full speed stepping on those stairs as if it did nothing to his breathing. Chimney was panting as he was pulling himself up with the help of the railing like it would help him gain more energy and oxygen.

“(Y/n)!” Evan called out as he almost reached the twenty first floor, trying to get a reaction out of her. There was still a chance she would’ve gained consciousness in those minutes they were rushing up the stairs. “LAFD! Call out!” Eddie’s voice followed up Evan’s yell.

Evan’s eyes fall onto the numbers written on the wall. Twenty one, with the door towards the office floor next to it. Evan’s eyes scanned the stairwell as he stopped in his tracks, but when he heard a groan his eyes shot up and he let his legs carry him a few steps higher.

“Ma’am LAFD, we’re here to help!” Evan said as he could see two female bodies collapsed on top of each other. Slowly the woman gained consciousness. “Oh my god” she stumbled as she realized she was crushing (Y/n)’s body.

“It’s okay, let's get you out of here and checked out, alright?” Evan said as he helped the woman to her feet so she wouldn’t be crushing his neighbor anymore. Evan grabbed both of the woman’s hands to support her weight, as he handed her carefully over to Eddie.

Evan quickly kneeled down next to (Y/n) “(Y/n) can you hear me?” he said once more. But when he didn’t receive a reaction to his question, he took off his glove and slid the scarf she had wrapped around her nose and mouth down to her neck.

He pressed his index and middle finger tight against each other and pressed them against her neck. After he found her pulse and it seemed normal, he held his hand in front of her nose as he checked her breathing. “Pulse seems normal, but her breathing is short” Evan says as he looked at Chimney.

“Must have been because of the amount of smoke. Let’s get them both out of here!” Chimney concluded, as he helped Eddie to support the woman. “You got her Buck?” Chimney asks as Eddie and the other woman slowly start to make their way down. “Yeah, I got her.” Evan says as he nodded at Chimney.

Twenty one floors to carry someone was a hell, but if she was unconscious he had no other choice. They couldn’t get the gurney up there, not when the fire was still roaring over one of the floors. Evan carefully turned her so she was on her back, and slid his left arm underneath her lower back and his right arm underneath her knee cavity.

Her body became heavier at every step he took to get from the twenty first floor back to the ground floor. His arms were losing power, but he couldn’t stop, he had to push through the pain. He could hear soft groans and falling from her mouth.

“I need a gurney over here!” Evan panted as he got out of the doors of the building. Chimney comes running down with the gurney, and Evan carefully places (Y/n) onto it. Once she was on the gurney, Evan ripped off his oxygen mask, revealing his blonde curls and sweaty face.

“Let’s get her into the ambulance.” Chimney said. Evan placed one hand down onto her knee as he placed his right hand onto hers, giving her a slight squeeze to let her know he was there, walking next to the gurney to help her get to the ambulance.

A groan fell off her lips as she tried with all her energy to open her eyes. “It’s okay.. I’m here with you” Evan’s voice sounded through her ears. She could feel Evan’s hand softly squeezing her hand.

Her hand tightened around Evan’s hand as she felt his hand loosening around her hand. Evan wanted to let go, so she could get to the hospital.

“Buck..” she stumbled as a loud cough left her throat, and she looked at him through the small space between her eyelids.

The way she tiredly called out his name, made his heart skip a beat. Evan had a feeling she wasn’t going to let go of his hand sooner or later. He felt the eyes of Chimney burning into his skin as they waited for Evan to make a choice.

“I’m here (y/n). I’m not going anywhere.” He softly said as he got in the back of the ambulance.

She didn't know him at all. Only that he was her neighbor. But she trusted him. That was all that she needed right now.

_____

(Y/n) closed the door behind her as she held the garbage bag in her other hand. In the corner of her eye she could see a silhouette appearing, when she turned around to proceed her way to get rid of the garbage bag she met those ocean blue eyes again. He was holding a moving box in his hands, as a spooked look was projected onto his face. As if he had seen a ghost, or something or someone he didn’t want to walk into.

There was a silence between the two of them, “You’re not moving out right?” (Y/n) decided to break the silence as she pointed at the box Evan was holding. “What?” Evan said as a confused look took over his face now, but quickly remembered that he was holding a moving box. ”No! It’s just..-” his sentence was cut off by a female voice filling the space of the hallway. “Hey we probably have to cull as we unpack. Oh-” The female voice stopped speaking as she walked into the hallway, finding Evan talking with (Y/n). With her keys in her hand she stopped in her tracks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were chatting with one of your neighbors” she said.

(Y/n)’s eyes wandered from the woman she didn’t know, to Evan and back, trying to connect the dots. Evan just stayed silent as he held his eyes locked onto the box he was holding. “I believe we haven’t met yet..” The woman came closer to (Y/n) “I’m Taylor, Buck’s girlfriend.” she says as she reaches out her hand, inviting (y/n) to shake hers.

Her eyes went wide as she surprisedly repeated the one word that triggered her. “Girlfriend?” she said as she collided her hand into Evan’s girlfriend and shook it. Her voice sounded surprised, but she tried her best to sound as normal as possible, even if that was possible. Not after he dropped a bomb on her like that. She smiled awkwardly as she glanced over to Evan and back to Taylor. “I’m (Y/n), Buck’s neighbor and just a friend” she said as she gave Evan one fast glance again.

“So you’re moving in?” (Y/n) asked Taylor as she pointed at the box Evan was still holding. “Seems like it, doesn’t it?” Taylor smiles as she takes place to stand next to Evan. (Y/n) could swear she was going to be sick. How did Evan not mention this to her? That he had a girlfriend who was going to move in with him? How is that something that you’d keep out of your conversations?

(Y/n) smiled at the both of them “So, how did the two of you meet?” (Y/n) asked as she felt a silence coming up. “Well, Buck and his team rescued me from a crashed helicopter a few months ago actually. Just another day on the job, isn’t that right?” Taylor answered as she smiled at Evan, curling her hands around his upper arm.

“Wow, I’m sure that must’ve been scary for you” (Y/n) said as she glanced every now and then at Evan, he was quiet. That was nothing for him, he always wants to join in with conversations. “Yes it was, but luckily we’ve got LA’s finest fire and rescue to save us. It wasn’t love at first sight, but we found each other back” Taylor said as she glanced up at her boyfriend, who was pretty much focussed on the cardboard box which he was still holding in his hands.

The smiles and awkward laughing came to a stop, as a silence filled the room again.

“How are you? How are your lungs?” Evan suddenly asked after a few loud minutes of silence. (Y/n)’s eyes wandered towards Evan’s. “I’m doing fine, thanks. I’ve had some extra follow up exams but my doctor says that my lungs sounded clear” (Y/n) explained to Evan. “Good, happy to hear you’re going good” Evan nodded as he could feel himself slip away and drown into her eyes.

Taylor’s face had gone from smiling to a confused look. (Y/n) guessed Evan probably never mentioned rescuing his own neighbor from a fire. “I got stuck in a fire a week back..” (Y/n) said as she looked at his girlfriend, explaining the situation. “And Buck.. well he saved me” she continued as she quickly glanced at Evan. (Y/n) received a quiet “oh” from the woman and she nodded.

“Um, did they find some kind of emergency building to work in?” Buck asked as he clarified the situation to Taylor. A small laugh left (Y/n)’s mouth “Funny you should ask.. Um, I don't know. I quit the job” she said as she looked down at the floor, which was really interesting to her right now.

Evan’s eyebrow furrowed, he didn’t expect her to drop her job like that. “Oh.. I’m so.. sorry. I had no idea.” Evan apologizes to her. “It’s okay.. really. I wanted to quit anyway.” she quickly said as she wanted to get rid of the subject as soon as possible.

Another silence filled the hallway.

“Anyways! It was so nice to meet you Taylor.” (Y/n) said as she gave her a small nod and slowly backed away from the couple. “But.. I’ve got to.. uh go.. do that.. uh.. thing!” she continued, she quickly slid the key to her home out of her pocket and unlocked the door. “See you later?” Buck quickly asked as she opened the door to her apartment. (Y/n) hummed a fast “yes” and closed the door with a bang.

She was still holding the trash bag in her hand, but threw it through the room to release her anger. She let her back fall against the front door of her apartment and slowly let her head bounce against the door. With her eyes squeezed closed, she bawled her fist along her side of her body and let it bang against the wooden door.

This couldn’t be happening.

______

Evan slides the oven rack with the dish filled with fresh lasagna towards him, checking if his dinner is ready to be served.

But his head shot up at the sound of his doorbell ringing. He quickly slides the rack back into the oven as he shuts the door close and throws the towel he used onto the kitchen counter. He quickly walked to the door, and swung the door open as he was within range.

His eyes spotted an older man standing in front of his door. Evan simply greeted him when he saw the man. “Hello, my name is Wright, I’m your new neighbor from next door.” the man says. Evan’s eyes furrowed in surprise. “Oh yeah, I’m Buck. Welcome to the neighborhood” Evan introduces himself to the man.

It has been months since (Y/n) moved out of the apartment next door, she told Evan that she found a new job and had to move to Berkeley. Which wasn't a lie, technically. After everything that happened to her, she found a new purpose, and needed a new beginning.

But the one thing she didn’t tell anyone was her main reason why she left. She left Los Angeles, and her apartment was because she knew she couldn’t bear to see Evan with another woman. She knew that she would be suffering every awaking second, as she saw Taylor and Evan together.

After the office building fire, she was desperate to help people and to show people that she in fact was intelligent and useful. The people at the office treated her like she was stupid and used her for the most simple tasks. She wanted to prove herself, so that is what she’s going to do. She moved to Berkeley to start medical school at the University of California.

Evan has also broken up with Taylor a couple of weeks ago. Taylor promised Evan that she wouldn’t run the Jonah Greenway story, but eventually betrayed him by doing it anyway. After they spend some time avoiding each other, Evan and Taylor parted ways.

“I came here to ask if you knew the previous neighbor?” Wright asks Evan. He nods as her smile flashes through her mind again. “Yeah, I did” he says with a soft smile projected on his face.

“Good, because he or she left this behind and I wanted to give it back to its rightful owner” the new neighbor says as he holds up a book. The book he’s holding looks used, as if it had lived a long life.

His soft smile morphed into a confused look that was written all over Evan’s face. “I was wondering if you could get in touch with the owner to return it.” Wright says as he fiddles with the book in his hands.

“Oh yeah, sure. I can do that.” Evan answers Wright as he nodded. ”Really? That’s awesome, thanks” his neighbor says as he hands over the book to Evan, who gladly takes it off his hands.

“I’d better get going, have lots to unpack. Let me know if you got it back to the owner” Wright says with a smile written on his face. “I will. Oh and once again, welcome to the neighborhood” Wright sends Evan a small smile and walks away from the door. Evan gives the door a slung so it would close on its own.

Evan inspects the book that was in his hands. It wasn’t like a book to read, it looked more like a notebook to him. When Evan turns the book around to look at the back, he stops in his tracks as something hits the floor. A folded piece of paper.

Another confused look was on his face. He squats down and grabs the piece of paper from the ground. Evan wants to put back the paper in between the pages of the book, but then his eyes fall onto his own name. Written down onto the paper. What the hell?

He had so many questions. Why was his name onto this piece of paper? What was this book? Was it some kind of diary or was it just a book? Was she writing about him? And if so, why was she writing about him? A thousand questions were running through his mind right now.

Evan stands up straight again as he places the book onto the kitchen island. He leaned with his forearms onto the island as well as he turned the piece of paper multiple times, as if it was magically going to show something new.

He can’t open this, right? It’s someone’s private property. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to find this after all. Evan is in a fight with himself, but after minutes of debating and a hundred times turning the folded paper, he decides to open it. His heart was starting to race as he unfolded the paper and he let his fingers trace along the ripped off side of the paper.

Evan,

I don’t even know where to begin, I don’t even know if I will have the guts to send this to you. Maybe this letter will always stay in my diary. I have written this letter already a hundred times, but I can’t seem to find the right words. I have so many things to say, but yet, I can’t get them on paper. Everything I write down seems to be wrong.

Maybe it’s the feeling of seeing you with her, while I try to push my real feelings down. Only to see you happy. Because that’s what I want. I want you to be happy, because that’s what you deserve.

I wanted to be happy for you, when I walked into you and Taylor in the hallway. I wanted to tell you that seeing you and her together, didn’t do anything to me. But I’d be lying if I said that. The truth is… every time when I see you glance a smile at her or even holding her hand, a part of me is dying on the inside. I tried to put on a mask, and to turn into someone else every single time when I walked past you. But it just got harder from time to time.

It’s like I’m underwater, I’m trying to hold my breath and I’m not coming up until this all is over. But I’m suffocating. And that’s why I’m leaving Los Angeles.

I hate the way my heart makes a jump when you glance back at me, or the way my name falls off your lips. The feeling you give me by only standing there, and telling me it’s going to be okay. Or the way you somehow managed to become my lucky charm.

There’s a lot more I want to say… But I’m ending this letter. Because, how could you ever feel the same, we were just friends. Neighbors. Nothing more, right?

- (Y/n)

Evan let his free hand press against his forehead as he reads the last sentence of the letter he found. He felt so stupid, how could he be that stupid and miss all the signals…

______

(Y/n) grabs her cup as she takes a sip from her tea and writes down the last important thing from her study book. A sigh falls off her lips as she hears a knock on the door. She quickly places the cup of tea on the wooden dining table as she pushes the chair back and starts walking towards the front door. Another loud knock on the door was sounding through the apartment as the person in front of the door apparently became impatient. “Yeah yeah! I’m coming!” she spoke loud enough to reach the front door. “Jesus” she mumbled under her breath as she reached the door.

“Buck?” his name fell off her lips as she opened the door and she was once again drowning into those ocean blue eyes. The one she recognizes out of a thousand. “Hey” he simply said, as she leaned against the half open front door of her new apartment.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, with her eyebrows furrowed. How did he find out where she lived?

“I think you forgot something when you left Los Angeles” Evan says as he magically pulled out her book and held it up like it was some prize she could win. "My diary.." She sighs as a smile develops itself onto her face. He holds out her diary, waiting for her to accept it.

She gently accepts the diary he was holding in his hands, “How did you find this?” she asks as she opens the diary, scrolling through the pages, searching for the letter that was meant for Evan. “My new neighbor came to me. Claiming that he found something, and he wanted to give it back to its rightful owner. So he asked me to give it back, since I told him that I knew you.” he explains as a confused look was spread over Evan’s face, while hers looked like she was about to panic.

“Something wrong?” Evan softly asks her as she continues to hurriedly go through all the pages of her diary. A nervous laugh exits her mouth as the panic was written in her eyes and all over her face. “I’ve looked everywhere for my diary, there was something important in it” she said as she closed the diary.

Evan looked down at his feet, as he nodded. “You mean this?” Evan asks as he slid out the ripped piece of paper out of his pocket. The panic in her eyes remained as she saw what he was holding up in between his index and middle finger. “You found it” she sighed as she silently with only a motion asked Evan to come inside.

“You weren’t supposed to find that..” she mumbled as she placed her diary onto her dining table, which was covered in study books and notebooks. “And I suppose I wasn’t supposed to read it either?” he asks as she suddenly starts to close all of the books on her dining table.

The only sound right now sounding through the room were study books and notebooks which were closing. “(Y/n)..” Evan sighed as she closed another book with a bang.

He firmly placed his hands onto the book she wanted to close, as he tried to make eye contact with her. “When were you going to tell me this? or send me this?” he asks. (Y/n) doesn’t make eye contact with him as she stopped in her movement. “Never…” she mumbled, barely audible.

(Y/n) let go of the book as she turned her back to Evan. Both her hands were curled up in fists. She squeezed her eyes closed as she felt Evan moving closer to her. “That letter.. was only to vent. Nothing more, nothing less.” she says.

A scoff left Evan’s mouth. It wasn’t just a vent. Everything she wrote down on that piece of paper was real, every feeling, every emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me that Taylor and I were your main reason you left Los Angeles?” he straight to the point asked her.

She softly closed her eyes, trying anything to stop the tears from leaving her eyes. The silence was deafening. Evan didn’t want to start a war, he just wanted answers. He placed his hand onto her shoulder, to give her some comfort. “I wanted you to be happy, because you deserve that. But I couldn’t stay, because if I did it would’ve ruined me even more” her trembling voice said as she turned around to face Evan.

“You were one of the things that makes me happy. The way you make fun of me. Or the way you never fail to make me smile. Sometimes you’d make me nervous and I’d forget what I wanted to say or I would stumble over my words..” He says as he placed his hand on her upper arm. “You are the one that makes me happy.” He continued.

“Buck…” she sighed as she sobbed through her smile. “It’s okay” he said as he took a step closer to her, they were so close. He could feel her breathing tickling his skin, and hear her breathing become faster within the second.

“There’s something else you forgot in Los Angeles..” he panted as their foreheads touched and their noses were inches away from each other. “And I’m not talking about your diary..” he continued as he softly traced his thumb over her cheek to get rid of the tears.

“Buck I-” but without any warning, Evan’s lips crashed into hers, completely cutting off her sentence. Her chin was caught between Evan’s thumb and index finger, as her hand found its way to the back of his head, pulling his short curls.

This was the right person, with now the right time.

[pervcoded]

DOG-EARED AND DOUBTFUL starring yuuji itadori. part iii.

──☆*:・ﾟcontent warning: amab!reader (referred to as a boy), canon divergent, college au (18+ characters) inside of the hybridverse. artist!reader, sukuna is related to yuuji. awkward meet-cute, but yuuji is implied to be (and is) slightly unhinged. reader is human and yuuji is a doberman hybrid. fluffy, safe for work-ish. nude modelling. bashful , sorta pushover reader. reader has a stutter. invasion of privacy (yuuji goes through your sketchpad and gets comfortable fast). british use of trousers (pants) and pants (underwear). scent stuff going on, yuuji has a good nose. yuuji is sorta feral and reader's not in a position to (nor does he quite want to) argue. mdni! reblogs and comments appreciated!

wc: 4.2 words.

It’s beautiful, truly. Yuuji is admittedly philistine in his artistic taste, never had a muse for it; but he finds himself wholly appreciative of the opportunity to become yours- even if it’s only for the evening. He can’t control the way his tail wags, heart pattering quicker in his chest as the excitement overrides his previously projected aloofness, his hands moving faster than his mind in that moment. One more page wouldn’t hurt.

You’re just like any other boy in class, really. Maybe the round ears and lack of fur are a bit of a weird look, but Yuuji wasn’t popular when he first transferred to the university either - and some change is always good, he thinks.

“And your tongue—is it really that small?” Someone had asked on your first day in, your classmates ogling your skin, analyzing its novel texture. You’re good at acting nonchalant when you’re placed on the spot. Tone even, eyes level, posture loose and relaxed as you fold your arm over the back of your chair. You’re smarter than they’d ever give you credit for—laughed along with their jibes so they wouldn’t see how gently you swayed. Trembled. The claws of some touchy Wolverine mutt glancing at your collarbones, and you laughed it off, never once minding the sweat cascading down the apex of your temple.

But your scent is disloyal to you. He never thought to mention it. The sour notes of tangerine, key lime, crescendo in the spot where you stand, a heady cocktail of anxiety and embarrassment and horror. 

You’re quite popular for a human, however. Maybe that was your conventional appeal. Or rather stood next to them you stick out like a sore thumb, and that makes you far more interesting—purely by virtue of your association. But Yuuji likes to think you have your own redeeming qualities too. You’re an artsy type. Try and spend a lot of time by yourself if you can manage, but your peers seem intent on laywaying your silence; coveting your time like shiny trinkets in a magpie’s nest.

Still, you’re nice to him. 

You remember his name. Say “Itadori, hi,” and give him a solemn nod before going on your way. You give him your leftovers you don’t want if your class schedules happen to line up that day. You share your notes from Anthropology, and sketch him in the margins of your notebook on the days you can’t focus.

The patience of hybrids doesn’t often extend to their own kind, and Yuuji’s felt terribly lonely since his grandfather passed - what with his uncle not being much in the way of making conversation. But you’re easy to talk to.

“Ah, Itadori, can you come here?”  His tail wags a little at the acknowledgement, but if you notice you failed to comment. “Uh, yeah? What’d you want? I’m a little busy right now, so,” He smiles half-heartedly, suddenly a little uncomfortable to be seen with you like this. You move your stuff away from where you want him to sit at the table, and his eyes are acutely drawn to each movement of your hands. Gathering up runaway pencils, stacking textbooks. “You can call me Yuuji, by the way. I don’t mind.”

Your face lights up at that, and you tell him your name in kind. He tries it. Once for his pleasure. Again to make sure he got it right. He looks back down at the now emptied table, though he doesn’t go to take a seat.

Your lunch is sparse. Two pieces of bread with peanut butter and something else sandwiched in the middle. A browning apple eaten to the core. He thinks about mimicking the impressions of your teeth.

“Ah, well, I know we don’t talk and um - I’m still kinda new here and - please, you can sit,” Your hand fans out to gesture at the chair in front of you, and Yuuji settles into it uneasily. He can smell you’re afraid of something.

“Yuuji…” You tap your pencil on something he can’t see, draped over your thigh. “I.. wanted to draw you.” Yuuji tilts his head, finger absently reaching towards his chin. “Me?” “Yeah. It’s for an art assignment. We’re practicing portraits.” Your smile is disarmingly charming. “If it was okay with you, I wanted to see if… we could find some time to—y’know. Have you model for me.” Yuuji doesn’t let himself get excited so quickly, the hair on his forearm bristling a bit as he digs his nails into his thigh. Keep it from bouncing. “Okay. Yeah. Sure - that’s fine. I’d love to.” Yuuji sounds like he’s speaking through grit teeth, but his expression doesn’t expose anything other than slight apprehension. You sigh, a weight seemingly lifted off your shoulders. “Oh! Okay!” You try not to sound too happy about it, but a smile keeps weaseling onto your face. “Okay so, we’d have to book one of the art rooms, but that shouldn’t be too hard—nobody really lingers around after class. Lucky us, right?” You’re fishing your phone out of your pocket, and Yuuji nearly forgets to grab it with his unbloodied hand.

“Here. Add your number, take a photo if you’d like.” You’re teasing, but Yuuji never was good with sarcasm. He smiles big and wide for it, pointed teeth all in the front row. 

He saves his name as ‘Yuuji 😎’, and hands your tech back to you. You send a quick ‘hey’ to make sure you got the right number. When his pocket rumbles he’s off no later, barely waving goodbye as he leaves you to your own devices.  

You text out the details later. Tomorrow, at 7:00. 

He gets there at 6:56 on the dot. Campus has been largely deserted this time of day, and the few stragglers left, student and faculty, each flock to their club space or the odd, afterhour meeting. You’re all set up by the time he’s there. You’re well-prepared, graphites and eraser shavings finding a home on the floor around you. Sticks of pastels lie short and chipped on the easels mantle, your fingertips already blackened by charcoal. This wing is new to him, but the hallways look just like this rooms walls. Student made murals scaling taller than him, ferals unfurling across the unorthodox canvas; a magnificent sky. Ceramic busts settle atop storage cabinets; baked and glazed vases filled with paper flowers, tucked into empty corners. Paintings hung to dry. Thick ink stains as he sidesteps a rolling chalkboard, gently pushing it to the side.

You glanced up when the door opened, but it was more reflexive than comprehending. You saw him, then looked back at the canvas, focused. Only when he nearly stumbles do you look back up again, and you’re smiling really wide. You wave excitedly. “Hey Yuuji!” His ear twitches near imperceptably, tail high and wagging. “Hey.” He’s decent at acting, if you think he’s faking casual you don’t mention it, just gesture to the seat beside you. The chair you saved for him has tall legs and a strong, straight back; perfect for a model.

“Well, you can take this chair when you’re ready,” he’s taking a peak at the easel sat in front of you, identical setups matching yours haphazardly set up around a squat stage in the center of the room.

Your sketchpage: marked with vague gestures and dancing, people-like shapes. You’ve been practicing. You absently tug at your collar at the lack of distance between you two (forgot you were using charcoal, so you quickly stop) and a strange aura radiates from you, the smell of frayed nerves stinging his nose. His tail lulls in its movement, a tad disappointed you weren’t as comfortable with him as he thought you were.

“For a portrait, you being closer is ideal, so we don’t h..have to use the stage. I’ll just do my thing over here and… Oh! I brought some water and um, snacks.” You tilt your head in a familiar, curious motion, ”You like shrimp chips?” 

He shrugs at you and smiles. “They’re okay.” He’s flattered you considered him, mostly. He really did like that about you humans, such soft and compassionate creatures; moreso than any of the hybrids he knew. Where they-mournfully, himself included-took a unique pleasure in watching another squirm, your kind wasn’t like that at all, were they? Perhaps an underdeveloped survival mechanism. A tail to tuck in the presence of a predator’s bared fangs. Regardless, your grin crinkles the corners of your eyes and makes his heart soar, your anxiety easing out as you stand from your seat, revealing your true smell. Heat and sweet and pastry-light; a creme bruele after the top has been carefully cracked open. Tickles his cheeks pink.

“So, how long you been doing this art stuff for anyway?” You seem startled by the ask and pause before you answer, probably not used to being asked about your interests by the other hybrids. “Years now. E..ever since I was a kid I always liked art, drawing-” You curse as something rolls out of your bag and say sorry to nothing and no one. “Drawing, traditional, digitally. I was thinking about going into graphic design! - I’m still technically undecided, but I love art… It just calls to me, you know?” Oh, he has no fucking clue what you’re talking about. But he hums in the affirmative and reckons now’s a good a time as any to check. Take a peek through your lens and see the shape of your artisan mind. An artist’s sketchpad to him seemed the appropriate equivalent to their soul; so he takes the opportunity to flip through the pages on your drawing pad. 

He’s admittedly expecting something grander. Maybe the inside of an old world colosseum or perhaps something abstract and profound, the kind of things disheartened schoolchildren write essays about; A Great Wave or Thinking Man, befitting of the brand of mystery he’d superimposed on you. Nothing suitably miraculous happens. The task merely becomes more intimate by virtue of your artistic repertoire. Surely, not the fault of his plain nosiness.

All flesh upon the paper is laid entirely bare. Inscriptions of bodies wrap around the canvas from the top to the very bottom like the prayers in a holy book. Any free tarp is not spared, a bared torso and breast here, the sole of a foot en point over there. Largely unfinished yet tangible, beginnings and inbetweens and many more ends; scores of tails, teeth, tongue and claws. “Oh, wow.” You’re still digging through your bag so you don’t mind him, preoccupied second guessing kneaded erasers and rags to wipe your creativity off on.

To describe your work as a product of mere fascination would be a woefully inaccurate assessment. Not a proper acknowledgement of your time, effort, sweat, (more than a few smudges in the graphite, a whiff of salt that sticks out above the rest) and conviction. 

There’s quick notes scribbled between poses and observations, some names - none of which he immediately recognizes, but makes his head fog with some vague posessiveness regardless. Jealousy maybe. He doesn’t linger on it, instead flipping to the next page. Bodies more and more bodies, some without heads; long torsos; hips; thighs and legs and asses,

Lips, mouth wide open, teeth and tongue presenting. There’s a notable lack of vulgarity to the images. A seemingly clinical observation of how the parts move, some independent of the others; but when it all comes together…

It’s beautiful, truly. Yuuji is admittedly philistine in his artistic taste, never had a muse for it; but he finds himself wholly appreciative of the opportunity to become yours- even if it’s only for the evening. He can’t control the way his tail wags, heart pattering quicker in his chest as the excitement overrides his previously projected aloofness, his hands moving faster than his mind in that moment.

One more page wouldn’t hurt. (It’s just admiration he’d say, when the real reason he’s so riled up is because he’d been hoping for this moment; all his anxieties of pursuing you assuaged by your apparent obsession for him- er- hybrids like him—can’t get ahead of himself just yet—) His fingers move with deft purpose. 

You come back with a whole bag of stuff; chips, ramune, what smells like pocky, but he’s not looking towards you as you return. Surely, you think, a blank page can’t be that interesting, and you’re right; that’s not what he’s staring at. 

He’s found your page.

Your life drawing class encourages you to practice still lifes in your free time. There aren’t many hybrids tripping over themselves to be ogled by a human - some models even abject to posing in the room while you’re there - so when the opportunity presented itself to observe something more than a picture, someone else, removed from your wheedling peers, obviously you lept for it. 

You’d grown tired of drawing yourself.

“Ah, Yuuji-” Your inhale quick and sudden, the sharp clatter of a glass bottle twitching him out of his stupor. You stiffen up when he looks back at you despite his brevity (because he is just fascinated with your canvas all the sudden), your hands flapping anxiously as you step close, you’d collapse in on yourself if you had the option. “Um wait, please! That’s private!”

You are deeply gifted. He doesn’t have to stare it like he did the other ones cause he recognizes it as you so immediately. (Letting his eyes wander all those times seems to have payed off). Recognizes the arch and swell of your muscles, the slope of your back and the softness of the dimples in your hips, the gentle curve of your -

A hand darts over the artistic nudity before he can fully commit it to memory, and you shout: “Yuuji! I got the snacks, okay? Just- we can get started now,” He can’t read the expression on your face as you reset your canvas and flip to a blank page. He desperately tries to meet your eye; but your gaze is leagues away. An inkling of some base, carnal attraction blooms in his chest; your unwitting submission appealing to some feral hindbrain before he recalls your humanity, disappointingly gentle emotions and sensibilities. 

He feels sad for you after though it only lasts a moment, his tail drooping pathetically and eyes sagging similarly as the compunction grapples him; and in a frenzied moment of attempting to sooth your shame (smells dull and salty like wood grain) he gets a good idea. According to his standard, anyway. He smiles at you and pants a little. His finger is digging into his collar at an angle, tugging up; in demonstration.

“If you want me to get naked, I really wouldn’t mind!” His whip tail thud-thuds into your easel. “Excuse me?” You initially abject, dumbfounded. Your face feels warm and your skin tingles, the blood in your cheeks stinging it darker, body tensing up. “W-why would you..? I..I wouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. I-it’s a, well - Portraits are mostly sup..supposed to be your face, so, getting naked? Really not necessary,” 

He’s already taking his sweater off. “Yuuji, please.” His tail wags a little when you whimper and he has a mind to admonish himself for taking pleasure in such a thing.

“It’s fine, really!” Sounds so easy for him to say, when you’re on the verge of an aneurysm. “I was reading a little about it-” (and hardly did he ever read), “-and apparently, portraits can be half, or full bodies. Well, you’d probably know that better than me anyway.” His voice is dampened by the fabric, but you’re too dazed to notice he said anything. Everything is happening too fast.

He kicks off his shoes and drops trou in your choked silence, your hands tremble as dread wars in your mind and you remain uncertain of where to put them. Nevermind your eyes. The thought of trying to stop him warrs with the concept that having to touch him, see him, will surely kill you. “You seem to draw a lot of hybrids- so I assume you’re already used to seeing us naked? Though I didn’t see a lot of dogs in there…”

The room kicks up a few degrees and your blood simmers beneath your skin, your boundaries bent and bowed as you struggle to figure what happens next. Your shirt feels too, too tight. His is starting to come off. The slow drag of cotton across his body is amplified by the emptiness of the space, at a pace entirely too casual for an impromptu strip tease. “But there’s nothing wrong with trying something new every once in a while, y’know?”  He stumbles a little when it’s past his shoulders, self consciously fixing his hair after he’s gotten it slung over his arm. 

As if he has anything to be nervous about. He looks at you triumphantly when he’s finished (pants regretfully still on), and he wishes you couldn’t meet his eyes this time; get a good eyeful of how excited he is for you. In what must be respectful to you, you catch his gaze this time, with these big round prey eyes that makes the fur on the back of his arms bristle in the studio’s cool air. A vein in his throat jumps and his pupils dilate, but (too) soon you turn away.

You’ve seated yourself back on your chair and fixed up the workspace, though he has a hard time gauging this new expression on your face. Maybe apprehensive, again? Bashful? You chew your lip with this insistence, bruising the delicate skin there. Your hands move with opposed intention; flattening out the canvas and arming yourself with graphite.  “O-kay. Y..you can.. Make yourself comfortable I guess..” He can still smell you, too.

This scent is new. Near cloying and knitting to the inside of his nose as it pours off of you, slight, topping off that twinge of orange peel and grapefruit. 

“Okay!” He brusquely shoves past your apprehensions; looking mighty pleased with himself-the dog-the muse’s chair dragging agonizingly against the floor as he goes to set it in place. You do nothing at first. He is seated within seconds and after your hand suddenly is no longer your own, flexed potential in every muscle put to pause in the air, your brows furrowing in newfound frustration.

You don’t look at him, still. Yuuji’s triumph of domination having past, he finds the selfish desire to be observed and admired comes gnawing back to him. He doesn’t want to push you (so he says while shoving you) but he really is going all out. He’d like some of that signature human hospitality back, pretty please? He leans closer. 

You get infinitely stiffer and he whimpers. An honest to god beaten doggy whine, and your shock is what finally gets you to look up. He’s far more relaxed than you at present, pouting expression at odds with his slouched posture and occasional pant. His floppy ears tilt open and he momentarily mirrors your wide-eyed wonder. “Finally,” he chirps. ”I was starting to think we weren’t actually friends!” You scoff, still staring saucer-eyed. Your eyebrows go up and down and up, your forehead wrinkles. “You ge-get naked for all your f..friends?” The incredulous twang to your voice wants to read to him like jealousy, but projection is a fickle thing.

Yuuji  genuinely thinks about your question, further astounding you. “Well. I guess only for the ones I really like.” The statement is made sincerely, the smile accompanying it darling, and could have perhaps romanticized the situation had you not been a sane-minded human man. The warmth in your face has turned to fire hot heat and you sputter on your words. “I’m fl..flattered. But humans? Don’t do t..this,” you attempt to gesture to the entire situation, “With their friends! This is, frankly, too, too-” You stutter into nothing, the thought dying on your tongue. “Too what? I mean, you don’t smell like you hate it,” he sniffs. “My nose is pretty good! If you-” you dislike the way he stresses the syllable, like you’re special some how, “-were scared, I’d smell that miles away. You have a very strong scent you know? It’s not a bad thing though, don’t worry! At least, it isn’t for me anyway. It makes you feel more.. Genuine.” He hums matter-of-factly, your pencil beginning to tremble above the page. “But aren..aren’t you cold? Or-or something? It’s always freezing-freezing in here!” Yuuji shrugs, ”Aw, it’s no worries really. I sorta run hot, so,”

You knew a lot of things about hybrids. About their keen noses, most gifted with perceptive capabilities beyond that of your kind. Still it feels no better to hear that for despite your subtlety, you never had a chance to evade their prying eyes. You sigh with a shake of your shoulders, and Yuuji takes your silence as an excuse to move closer. “Hey, don’t worry. What’d I say about new things?” You don’t feel terribly reassured, but you nod along for your own sake. “You got an assignment due, don’t you? Just focus on that. Forget Yuuji, focus on capturing..” “The form.” You finish. Yuuji would have said ‘these guns’, but shrugs. “Yeah, that.”

You look at him again, but only now do you truly perceive him, resigned yourself to capturing his image and replacing the blankness on your canvas. Your gaze is sharp and surgical, your pencil connecting with the paper as you change focus between him and it. Him, his infuriatingly cheeky grin and easy-going eyes and loose limbs. This body worthy of envy. Laid bare for you to wrangle and tame, reduce to your second dimension.

You begin to draw.

Yuuji sits in a silence punctuated by the sounds of your scribbles. Upwards stroke, down again; quick curving motions. Stare right at him, into the depths of his soul. Turn away, and sketch some more.

It’s a lot more boring than he’d imagined it. He is very excited you have your eyes on him; don’t get him wrong, but your stare doesn’t possess any of the fullbodied fascination, like he has for you. He almost wished he could give you his nose just so you could smell his pheremones, or his eyes, so you could catch every little jump of his muscles or twitch of the tail. He’d refrain for a few selfish reasons; Your changes in mood. The straightening of your spine and the twitching of your eye after you got a rhythm going. You ditch the graphite, go for the charcoal, and make some bigger shapes, Strikes some fine lines. Stillness comes simply to him, studying you as intently as you are him. 

Your movements slow to an inevitable stop after a time, “Okay…” You stare stonily at your canvas. Briefly compare in silence. “I… think I’m finished.” You don’t move away, seemingly taken by your own creation.

He shoots up from his seat and moves close. “You’re no..not gonna put your c..clothes back on?” He looks down at you with his head at an angle, suddenly peered over your shoulder. “You want me to?” Your silence is loud. “Okay then.” He smiles, finally taking a look at your drawing.

The expression you gave him is burrowing and severe. An intense glower that catches even him off guard. An unbidden hunger beneath his eyes accentuated by whisps of charcoal, a pinprick of yellow nestled into his irises. He is in both awe of it and horrified that is how you saw him. How he truly was. You define the slant of his collarbones after the fact, rounding out the muscle of his pecs. You sketch and erase, sketch and erase under his curious eye, sketch. Your palette grows. Swirled into colorless grey by your finger, pencil replaced by your finger. You draw without a model, so he no longer sees the point in teasing you with his nudity. Forgive him for expecting something more dramatic- he’s been reading too much manga, surely…

He gets dressed slow and gets as close as possible to your face whenever he has a question. 

“Is art always this boring?” He whispers close to your ear and you shiver. “M..maybe if you’re not the one…the one drawing. This.. I-I’m having fun, actually.” He tuts at you, “You need to teach me how to draw then. Next time when we do this, I can take a crack at drawing you!” His clawed finger crawls down your shoulder, you sweat a little under his attentions. 

“Y..yeah,” you swallow. “Maybe..” He smiles cooly as he eases back into the seat opposite you. “I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have the fun all to yourself, y’know?” You shoot him a look, lip pursed. “A-a lot more people would be more … excited about getting a free portrait.”

“Well, a lot more people would be more excited about getting to see me half naked.” Practically naked, to be a precise as possible. Your exasperation beats out your nervousness and you’re no longer afraid to set your brows with attitude, scoffing in irritation. Like he knows how you feel. The sheer restraint you’re exercising. How adamantly you will not allow this to get out of hand; you will not allow yourself to do something you'll regret- “G..get them to draw you, then!”

“Nah.” He drags his chair closer, but it’s not casual like before. Now the oxygen feels stuffier. Hotness that makes the air thicken and drag you down, a heat that blazes too close to your ears and seemingly makes the air tremble before you. You look toward him, not knowing what to expect (but twitching, aching for it). 

His tongue runs over his canines in a raw, animalistic fashion, the deep pools of his amber eyes threatening to drown you beneath their surface. “I don’t like them nearly as much.”

all content written by me @pervcoded is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

[kaaaaaaarf]

Saturday Snippit

So many people have tagged me in wonderful snippits lately! Thank you to @fruityindividual, @lynxindisguise, @quillkiller, @pupmotif, @messrsage,

@hiddenmoonbeam, @squintclover, @emjayeingray, @imsiriuslyreading, @sommerregenjuniluft and anyone else I may have missed!!!

To be honest I haven't really been writing much, but I've been working on my fic for the @marauderswithpalestineproject and I feel pretty good about it so far! My prompt was university, remus and sirius get paired for a project and obviously remus ends up doing the whole project but he doesn’t care bc he’s had a fat crush the whole semester:

Remus opens his notebook to grab a piece of paper for Sirius to write his number on, and immediately turns a shade of crimson never before seen by the human eye—at the top of the page in bright purple pen is MR REMUS BLACK. Panicking, he rips it out and shoves it in his mouth. Sirius watches the proceedings with a mix of shock and amusement—and something else Remus can’t place underneath. “Uh…What’s that you’ve got there, Remus?” “Nrthringk.” he mumbles. “I’m sorry, what was that?” Fuck, fuck, fuck. Remus is either going to have to swallow the paper or spit it out. He isn’t sure which is more mortifying. He starts to chew. Sirius snorts, hiding a smile behind his hand as he reaches out to grab the notebook Remus wordlessly passes to him with the other. Remus watches him scribble what he presumes is his phone number, before closing it and handing it back. “Well, I can honestly say that this has been an absolute delight, but I’ve gotta go—I told James I’d help him with some French homework. I promise to never speak of this again if you promise to help me pass this class?” Remus nods vigorously, relieved, “Mhrmrm.”  Sirius smirks at him, waving as he turns to head out of the classroom, “Perfect. Night, Remus.”  As soon as he saunters into the hall, Remus runs over to the waste bin at the front of the room, gagging as he spits out the now pulped paper.  He takes a long pull from his Nalgene, swirling the water in his mouth in an attempt to rinse out the embarrassment along with the taste of ink. He’s about to finally leave when he thinks to open the notebook to check if The Sirius Black actually gave him his number. He thumbs through the pages and chokes when he sees it. Written in Sirius’ looping, elegant script is, 555-574-4741 MR SIRIUS LUPIN.

np tagging: @kaleidoscopexsighs, @moon-seas, @colgatebluemintygel, @brigid-faye and anyone else who wants to share!! Tag me if you do <3

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... SOMEONE (Danny) had a PANIC ATTACK (it was warranted) and now he's laying low and trying not to move.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

There’s a green guy in his room.

Danny keeps eating his mush. There’s mush apple in it today, for variety. It’s probably triple-pasteurized applesauce, but it’s something, and Danny’ll appreciate it while it lasts.

The green guy and the lady are talking. Danny is happy to ignore them—they’re quiet, and careful, even if they’re trying not to act too suspicious or too quiet. Danny has the sneaking suspicion that he’s supposed to be getting used to his presence. Like a cat meeting another cat, or something.

The thing is, Danny kind of remembers him—but his brain’s been so loopy and weird, it’s kind of…hard to be certain? There are some memories of pain, and some memories of stress, and…maybe he was there for one of his star-walks? Danny thinks?

His memories are all mush. Since waking up here, Danny’s been more confused the more he’s become aware.

He sticks his spoon in his mouth.

Hello, the green guy tries, flexing some oddly solid aura, but Danny’s very busily ignoring him; the television has another news segment on weather in places Danny’s never seen, and he’s trying really hard to remember what the extra letters actually sound like.

There’s, like, an ampersand in the middle of words here. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I would like to talk, the not-ghost says without speaking, which is how Danny knows he’s not human. He doesn’t feel like a ghost, per se, and Danny’s breath is normal and as warm as his body can arrange it. It’s still weird though, since he clearly wants to communicate in some way, and Danny just.

He digs his teeth into the plastic spoon. It’ll leave little tooth-shaped dents. He focuses very firmly on the television spot. There are so many towns. Some of them have very silly names. One of them is having an asteroid shower, if Danny trusts his understanding of the icons they’re using.

Asteroids are cool. There’s a couple shots of the sky and a projected time at 8pm in some time zone. Maybe he can get the fast kid to tell his medical team he wants to see them. Maybe they’ll actually let him out of his room at night to watch…?

A hand gently fans at his sleeve so that the breeze jostles the fabric just a little bit. It’s a signal Danny’s gotten used to—a non-verbal, attention-grabbing signal that doesn’t require physical touch.

Danny looks. The lady waves.

He huffs.

“Licie,” the lady asks gently, but firmly. It’s a pretty insistent Please.

Please be polite with the guests, Danny. Your father loves Vlad, so please be nice, Danny.

…Danny doesn’t quite roll his eyes but he does. Look away. He doesn’t want to talk to them. Boundaries aren’t so… Empathic beings are…

“Do I have to?” he asks, and then remembers. Right. Different language. “Ic sceal?”

“Licie. Pleese.”

Danny’s face scrunches up. All the scarring his face probably has pulls taut. “…’Kay.”

“Min þanc.” Thanks.

Danny…reluctantly…faces the green guy.

He looks. Nice. Enough. He’d look better if he wasn’t staring—if Danny couldn’t physically feel how heavy the green guy’s attention was weighing down on him, pressing into his head and shoulders and neck, and—

Danny looks away. Again. The lady sighs.

The green guy sends waves of peace, calm, which is definitely a threat! Danny’s been smacked by Nocturn more than once! He knows what safety feels like when wielded as a weapon!

Apology wafts around the room, but Danny doesn’t want to hear it. Feel it. Smell it? Whatever. It has nothing to do with him. Danny wants to fiddle with the bits of his space station and maybe practice writing his name again, which has so far been less than a success. But he should probably introduce himself soon enough.

It’s only been. You know. …Literal months.

Questions and answers/queries and information? the green guy offers to trade, which is theoretically nice. But Danny’s been hunted for answers before—and sometimes just straight up hunted for fun.

There’s no information he wants to give.

Ask me? comes instead.

…Danny’s fingers still. Wait. He’s allowed to ask?

A bubble of amusement/worry bursts. Yes. If Danny has questions, he can apparently…ask.

Okay. Danny sets the space shuttle aside. He tilts his aura around, and bends it—if the green guy were a ghost, they’d be able to share more emotions with ­Danny’s guard slipped downwards. He’s going to bet it works…kind of the same way for whatever he is.

Who’s the lady? Does she have a name?

There’s a bubble burst of a memory—some dude in all black with little cat ears announcing This is Wonder Woman, hand out to present her to the listener. Without her scrubs on in the memory, she looks…like a warrior.

Armored. Strong. Black hair, gold gauntlets and red boots. Firm back. Like on the television

…In her scrubs, she just looks like the same lady as always. In his head, she looks as powerful and mighty as Pandora.

Danny’s heart picks up. Breathing becomes—harder. Does she fight? Does she fight all the time?

Memories of shared battles play out from the green being’s point of view: punching and throwing and whipping her lasso in the air and confidence and freeing prisoners and the power of the gods behind her, a royal in her own right—

…Will Danny have to fight?

The green guy murmurs something sad, grief flashing up against Danny’s low emotional shields. His hands reach out—but Danny leans back. He doesn’t want to be touched. He doesn’t want to feel the dude feeling bad for him. He just wants to know; will Danny be forced to fight?

There’s a deep, painful sympathy brushing up against him. Danny recoils. The thoughts of healing, doctors, naps, coming off his meds, recovery. Of concern, worry, Wonder Woman settling the patient’s blankets, his green-marred face raw and luminescent.

Healing. Resting.

Which. Danny glares. He gets that. But what happens after? Medical care is expensive, and Danny doesn’t even have hint of an idea of how long he’s been lying here. He knows that nothing comes free.

The green guy’s expression squeezes with concern. His head might be kind of funky-shaped, but the face is pretty human equivalent. Danny would have struggled to read Frostbite’s more than his. Danny doesn’t like that.

Danny misses beings he recognizes. He wants his friends. He wants Jazz. He wants Frostbite or Wulf or…or…

…Or Mom…or Dad…

Something touches Danny’s hand. Danny looks down. The green hand that reaches for him doesn’t grab, exactly, but it lets him know that the dude is there, at his side. I’m sorry, the guy says, more sentiment than thought. And then there’s a struggle to convey the next few thoughts.

…Because the guy doesn’t have as much experience of being outside as the school bell rings, children going in. Lunches in the headquarters cafeteria. The phone in Flash’s hand turned sideways, so that Martian Manhunter can see the dead-fish kiss between Rosalinda and Romero from last night's episode—

Wait, is the guy actually an alien? It’s kind of rude, but Danny. Gawks.

The concern hanging around in the air of the room turns into green-tinged amusement. The green dude and Danny have already had this conversation.

…Danny peeks at his water bottle on the side table and sheepishly rubs his nose. Ah. Whoops. They have?

Yes, the alien continues, and pulls his hand back. But they were having a conversation. About school. And healing. And recovering, and a comfortable space to rest, and an apartment on Earth and peace and family, and—

Danny shoves his emotional shields all the way back up before he. Before he forgets. His heart is pounding. He can’t look.

He can’t.

He.

…He can’t have that again.

The green guy—the martian wants to tell Danny something else, but he can’t—he can’t open himself up to that anymore.

Danny doesn’t have a mom anymore. Danny doesn’t have a dad anymore. His sister is—gone. He’s not going to hurt himself for wanting them back. There's no family and no house and no safety.

There are more quiet, empathetic presses against Danny’s emotions, but Danny pulls the covers up as high as they’ll go, and breathes through the thin cotton sheet pressed against his face.

It catches his tears, when he has them.

Someone mutters, and someone else mutters back. When Danny feels something touch his wrist through the cotton blanket, he can’t help flinching, but the speaker’s voice is familiar enough that he settles quickly enough. Danny listens to the lady—Wonder Woman, he remembers—hum softly.

…It’s a nice hum.

She hums, and she strokes his wrist, and she doesn’t go anywhere. She’s a stalwart, soft presence at his side.

It’s nice.

It's... Relatively, it's safe.

Danny eventually stops acting like a baby, and. Takes the sheet off. He isn’t crying, so there aren’t and tears to wipe away (there’s no need to check the footage, just believe him!), but it takes him a second to get himself reoriented to the room without a giant psychic presence in it.

But the whole time, the lady just…rubs his wrist, and then his mildly obliterated (but mostly healed!) hand. And hums. And lets Danny reorient himself, at his own pace, and in a safe space.

 Danny sniffles. He hopes it’s all mucus in his sinus cavity, and not, like, more ecto. But who knows?

The lady tilts her head forward, until Danny can see the blue eyes peeking over her lavender surgical mask. Her hand comes to her chest to tap against the paper-thin PPE covering her top half.

“Wonder Woman,” the lady says, firmly and clearly. “Diana.”

…That’s a name. Danny’s nose scrunches. That's a human name. That's a very recognizable, extremely culturally familiar human name.

They never introduced themselves, right?

Maybe…well… He is in space. Maybe he’s far enough away that no one will know him if he says his name.

(Or maybe Mom won’t want him back anyway, even if she found him.)

And there’s probably a million black-haired kids named Daniel, anyway. It’s a biblical name. These people don’t even speak English or Esperanto, or anything else Danny knows; so maybe it’s. Safe?

And…maybe Danny just wants to hear his name said again.

“D…”

The lady frowns, and then eases closer. Danny—gently—tugs on a lock of her hair until she lowers, and his mouth can reach her ear.

“D’nny,” Daniel James Fenton whispers into Wonder Woman’s ear.

Diana raises herself back upright. Her eyes are wet.

“Danny,” she repeats back to him. Her callused hands gently take both of Danny’s scarred and lumpy ones. “Wel mete.”

*

“He believes that we are going to require his presence in combat as payment for his recovery,” J’onn reports diligently, and stuffs his trepidation deep into his countenance.

The league around him groans.

*

[tossawary]

So, the Jackson "The Hobbit" movies get rid of the dwarves having musical instruments, rather adding a very atmospheric humming to the "Over the Misty Mountains" song. And I like this adaptational choice just fine, I think it sounds good, and because the question of "What happens to the instruments? Are they taking clarinets and a harp and etc. on the quest?! Are the musical instruments magical?" has bugged me for years. And I do think this choice suits the general *waves hand vaguely* more "serious / grim / lower high fantasy" aesthetic cultivated by the previous Jackson "Lord of the Rings" films.

But I do like the mental image of the Company being a very literal band going on a quest, because I think it's funny and delightful and unique. If I was doing an animated movie in particular, I would not like be rid of the musical instruments during that scene. The vibe is very magical. Very whimsical. And whimsy does not have to be wholly separate from very serious subject matters! I think it would be very cool if the dwarves had more casually magical tools generally, which would do some easy additional worldbuilding for the level of craftsmanship in this world, and could fit in perfectly well alongside hidden doors and invisibility rings and mithril shirts and glowing swords and jewelry that never comes accidentally undone.

If someone did a version where all the dwarves are carrying musical instruments throughout most of the quest in this way and the creator really leaned into the music generally and audio-visual relationship in film specifically, I would absolutely watch it. That sounds amazing. It wouldn't necessarily have to be a musical or an opera as well, though that would also be extremely cool. (Personally, I would even also watch a "Fantasia" version of "The Hobbit" FOR SURE. I am an artsy dork like that. Though it might not be my first choice in my ideal creative project.)

I think you could could do some great, whimsical scenes with the dwarves singing at various points on the road, the musical instruments breaking at certain emotional points, the dwarves trying to do little musical spells at various points, and so on. A lot of this stuff could even just be other members of the Company fussing around with these things in the background (trying to play a musical spell to light a fire) while Bilbo has a foreground conversation with Thorin or Gandalf or something. I LOVE in animated (and live) movies when you can see supporting characters bickering or getting into hijinks in the background of a scene. (Also, this world was sung into being in a way, wasn't it? Why not have more magical music?)

(OHHH, the way that Smaug could be done in a more audio- and music-focused version of "The Hobbit" would be SO COOL.)

Alternatively, generally, I've also imagined that there are other dwarves with wagons nearby to take the musical instruments away again (let's say the instruments are not magical in any way and taking them along would therefore largely just be impractical), and that the night at Bilbo's house was actually also a RITUAL meal/meeting for the members of a long journey. You're going on a quest? You seclude yourself with your company, eat, drink, talk, plan, and sing a little to bond as an exclusive group the night before heading off together. Normally, this would have been done back at their own home or something, but they had to get their burglar first.

I think this would be a cool way to slip in characters like Dis and Gimli even just in the background, as family members come to see everyone off, seen fixing Kili's hair or hugging Gloin as the Company prepares to leave Hobbiton that last morning. Thorin and Balin could be exchanging a couple quick lines about how Bilbo hasn't shown up yet, and in the background, we could see Dis hugging Fili (the true purpose of a well-done adaptation of "The Hobbit" is to break my fucking heart) and Gloin's wife drawing off with a wagon full of musical instruments while young Gimli waves tearfully! You wouldn't even have to have them say anything to slip them in!

Just... I'm listening to the Andy Serkis audiobook of "The Hobbit" right now and I want to see some gloriously artsy visual adaptations of this world.

[vampbunnis]

boothill x writer&reading enthusiast!reader!!

wc: 680

tags - fluff!!!!!, hurt/comfort without the hurt, so just comfort, this is my first fanfic EVER!?!?!?, lots of projection, probably inaccurate portrayal of boothill srrie, boothill calls u darlin'/sugar, this is really really messy oops

a/n - the story kinda diverges into them just reading a simple book written by someone else but the idea was that they'd slowly work into reading more n more complex stuffs-- which eventually include reader's works !! tbh i like to think even if boothill doesn't fully understand yet he'd still wanna know what reader is writing. i'll probably rewrite this sometime in the future with the same concept, diff execution b/c this lowkey didn't turn out how i wanted it to ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

he feels bad and a little insecure about his illiteracy!! because he bets you're so so talented in what you do but he literally cannot appreciate what you write :((

sometimes he wonders if you'd be happier if you were with someone who was able to fully understand all of you-- all of your cute rambles about the usage of different literary devices in the books you were reading, all of the times you cried over dystopian novels and heart-crushing personal narratives and profound, emotional sentences that he just didn't have the capacity to understand.

when he sits you down one night and confides in you about this, your first course of action is to comfort him (obviously!!).

"trust me, i don't love you any less just 'cause you dunno how to read," you coo, peppering his warm face with loving kisses. "if i had to be with anyone else, i'd be sad forever knowing you'd still be out there. i love you, don't forget that, 'kay?"

you can see his worry-addled face relax a bit as you remind him of just how much you love him-- but you can still notice the crestfallen look in his eyes. you realize he has been worrying about this for a while; possibly since the first time you told him you were a writer.

you come up with a plan.

he's a little confused the first time you lay in bed earlier than usual with a book in hand, gesturing excitedly for him to join you under the covers. you usually read books on your own, no?

it didn't take him long to notice a difference between the book you were holding and the books you usually read.

he saw a few of the books you'd read previously-- they were thick, way thicker than the book in front of him now, and definitely way smaller in size. the covers also had pretty big differences. the covers of your usual books were much more mature-looking-- like they were meant to be read by adults. this book, however... had a fat, crudely drawn green caterpillar on the cover.

his metallic body slips underneath the sheets, relaxing on the mattress. he protectively wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"what's this, darlin'?" he asks, pointing to the book with his free hand.

"the very hungry caterpillar," you reply, a bright smile on your face. you pause for a bit before speaking up again.

"i feel like i've been making you feel bad by leaving you out of my passion for literature-- i mean, reading, and writing and whatnot. i'm not the best teacher, but i still wanna share this part of me with you."

he has to try his hardest not to explode on the spot.

"'s alright, sugar, 's not your fault," he murmurs, gently caressing your side in an attempt to comfort you. "did 'ya get this book just f'me?"

you nodded, the solemn look on your face suddenly being replaced with one of excitement.

"this book is real simple, so i can read it to 'ya and hopefully you might learn a few things," you smile, giving him a peck on the cheek as you open the book.

since he barely knows how to read, you have to read the entire book out loud to him. that doesn't bother you, not in the slightest. in fact, you'd say it's even more fun that way.

he starts to snicker as the drawing of the caterpillar slowly gets bigger and bigger, eating food in larger quantities as the pages flip.

after you shut the book closed and put it on the nightstand, you turn to him. "how'd you like the book?"

"it was so stupid," he grins. "that [beautiful] caterpillar was still hungry after eatin' all that?"

you burst into giggles, hugging him tighter as you laugh. "mhm, i guess so. it's like me whenever you take me out to get fast food."

"oh, don't compare your pretty self to that thing," he smirks, tucking the both of you under the covers.

[soccerslife227]

Is it just me or is anyone else not a fan of Rosabella and Daring as a ship? I don’t necessarily hate Rosabella, she just felt like a severely underdeveloped character with no flaws who was suddenly paired up with Daring for no reason other than being his love interest and making him a better person. There’s no character development on her end because she didn’t have that much depth to her to begin with. I also felt like she saw Daring as a project, someone who needed to be “fixed,” like her character revolved solely around fixing Daring, and that just doesn’t sit right with me.

I also find it a bit hypocritical that Rosabella claims that she’s a rebel, but if her and Daring were together, wouldn’t they quite literally be following their destinies (for Cedar, Cerise, and Maddie I feel like it’s slightly different since, in their story, they don’t end up with someone romantically)?

But with Daring and Lizzie on the other hand, not only do they push each other to be their best (and it’s not one-sided), but by being together, it’s like they’re defying their destinies, and that’s just not something you can associate with Rosabella and Daring, especially if the theme is writing your own destiny.

Plus in Epic Winter I feel like Rosabella and Daring’s romance was shoehorned. But in Dizzie’s webisode, we get a sense of the characters almost immediately. We see Lizzie being open and honest that she’s never done this before, which lets us see past her hard exterior to see the softness and vulnerability within. We also get a glimpse of Daring’s true character for the first time, and we can see Daring actually genuinely putting in effort and respecting Lizzie’s wishes, despite the injury to his reputation. Furthermore, Lizzie surprises him with unexpected responses that intrigue him, while Daring pushes Lizzie to be a kinder person who can be more vulnerable with her feelings. They both push each other to be better people and it’s not just one-sided either, which makes their relationship all the more interesting. This is a message that hits, and it hits hard, and that’s why Daring and Lizzie are my favorite ship. That’s just my two cents though, everyone is free to have their own shipping opinions.

[mygnolia]

sunghoon when you’re sick

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons!

cw: cursing, mentions of chicken noodle soup (the food not the song), married life, getting sick/colds, hoonie my bae

wc: 1k

- okay so i feel like because he’s on the ice a lot

- he’s cold

- like in en-o-clock ep 20 behind he said it had been a while since he was on the ice so he was cold but that just means whenever he’s performing he’s not cold or not that cold at least

- and he’s acclimated to ice rink temperatures right?

- (and self projecting here but i myself am very cold all the time and it takes me a long time to get warm but i never get hot-?)

- so i feel like maybe one day its raining

- or the heater is broken and you have to suffer

- and you’re both on the bed, scrolling through your phones, but you’re shivering

- but sunghoon’s used to it

- only issue? he is not a raging furnace

- he’s a block of ice

- “sunghoon i’m cold.”

- “y/n, i can’t help you.” he’s just honest w/ everything atp

- “yes you can! cuddle me.” and you’d forcibly grab his arm and tangle urself with him

- you come to the very shocking realization that sunghoon is literally colder than the temperature outside.

- you pull away IMMEDIATELY and scowl at him

- he shrugs as if to tell you “i told you so.”

- he’s not offended he just accepted that he will never be warm

- man knows you’re just trying not to become the ice cube that he is

- omg sunghoon emotional brick and ice cube look at my…shape skills go

- so you’d go back to becoming one with the blankets but it doesn’t work and you’re like “hoonie :((“

- “yes dear.” sunghoon rolls his eyes, looking over at your covered figure nonetheless abd adjusts your blankets for you

- “can we cuddle, the blankets aren’t working :((“

- sunghoon probably gets an eye workout with how many times he rolls his eyes

- but he… L words u…so “okay. come here.” and he puts his phone down on the nightstand and gives you a hug

- internally he would laugh at your antics but he knows you’re just cold and he obviously wants to help but

- mans literally -2 degrees in body heat idk what to tell u

- but after a while you warm up the blankets EVENTUALLY get hotter

- u probs fell asleep and your body heat increased so you’re warm now

- he falls asleep too

- u end up with a COLD and he’s fine btw

- through the coughs and sniffles you blame him for not being your personal fireplace

- he goes “we slept together???? and you cuddled me??? for three hours??? fyi you could have gotten more blankets”

- ‘why can’t this man just spoonfeed u chicken noodle soup like a good bf’

- “can i at least have a kiss?” you pout at him underneath your blankets, even though the heater is in perfect working condition, and sunghoon feels himself falling harder for you everyday

- you are just so DAMN!!! CUTE!!! he can only handle so much until he says fuck it and puts a ring on ur finger

- omg married life with sunghoon or wtv…. NOT blushing

- “no. i’m going to get sick if I kiss you too.”

- “I AM SO SICK OF U!” /j

- ur stupid play on words makes him laugh and he gives in w/ a small peck :>

- even though ur hating him for not being cute and cuddly he just can’t get sick

- he has a competition coming up! sunghoon can’t be under the weather when he’s already under ur spell >:

- “take your medicine goddamnit” but it’s lovingly scolding you as he pushes the weirdly cherry flavored liquid down and follows up with a cup of warm water

- always has tissues on hand

- you’re in the car? tissues. you’re in the kitchen? no babe don’t use the paper towels to blow your nose it’s too rough on your skin

- if you want to cuddle he will say no

- I MEAN EVERY OTHER TIME HE JUST SITS THERE AND LETS U DO WHATEVER U WANT

- “guess this is my life now”

- “i can’t believe you won’t cuddle with me :(“

- “i cant believe you got sick despite hugging me and still having three blankets.” NO CHILL

- sunghoon simultaneously makes fun of you but will take care of you

- if he’s not home expect a sticky note or a voicemail

- “ahh, sorry for ringing your phone so early, i hope you’re getting your sleep <33 just wanted to call and make sure you drink the water in the bottle next to you, i warmed it this morning before i left for practice, and there’s some food in the fridge that jay brought over yesterday. hope you feel better soon i love you”

- alexa play fighting bleeding losing…no matter what i do by txt

- yeah he’s so sweet he’d stop the teasing bc he knows you hate being sick and doesn’t want to make it worse for you

- sometimes you wake up and you literally can’t breathe??

- breathing through nose era when!! /j

- you’d try to get your work done, hoon alr called sick days off for u but you have nothing to do at home so you get your laptop

- “Hi honey,” Sunghoon greets from the doorway, quickly kicking off his shoes and entering your bedroom. “I brought you some tea, Heeseung said it would help you since his mom gave it to him. Do you want some right now?” You nod, coughing with the quick and unexpected movement of your head.

- Sunghoon comes back with a steaming cup of warm golden tea, and blows on the top before letting you take a sip. “Be careful, it’s hot.” And you dismiss his words before you’re hissing at your burned tongue.

- u don’t catch a break huh

- you finish the cup of tea by the end of the night and sunghoon comes to give u a little forehead kith before telling you to sleep

- tmr u wake up and you can BREATHE again

- which gods did this why do you finally feel like a functioning human being

- ANYWAYS THOUGH!! Sunghoon’s competition is in two hours you don’t have time to waste hello?

- Outfit with hoodie, giant puffer jacket, and a turtleneck, and the thickest pants known to mankind

- driving to the rink where he’s competing and watching him with a giant lovesick grin without him knowing you’re there

- you give him a hug when he’s done

- happy at first and loves to see you, but wants to make sure you’re okay

- You both go home and he’s like “half of that outfit is mine.”

- yeah. he’s not wrong. anyways.

- celebratory dinner! he kisses you many many times thanking you for coming out to see him

- happy to finally cuddle again, holding you close now they you’ve recovered

- he got sick the next day.

—

f for sunghoon. thank you.