#if you need any triggers tagged lmk

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

Agust D 'Amygdala' MV

[pumaskulls]

i could've sworn i posted this one before...but im not seeing it 🤔

[yamachizuu]

Why does it hurt.

[dangaer]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE(S) .

SHIN.

brutal - olivia rodrigo.

i feel like no one wants me / and i hate the way i'm perceived / i only have two real friends / and lately, i'm a nervous wreck / 'cause i love people i don't like / and i hate every song i write / and i'm not cool and i'm not smart / and i can't even parallel park / all i did was try my best / this the kind of thanks i get? / unrelentlessly upset (ah, ah, ah) / they say these are the golden years / but i wish i could disappear / ego crush is so severe / god, it's brutal out here.

posthumous forgiveness - tame impala.

you didn't know that i suffered / what a thing to discover / if there was time to recover / one-on-one with each other / just a boy and a father / what i'd give for another / everything that i have / wouldn't need this for long / never speak of the time / that you left us alone / me and [steve] on our own / (this time) i wanna say, "it's all right" / (i know) you're just a man after all / and i know you had demons / i got some of my own / i think you passed them along / wanna tell you 'bout the time / wanna tell you 'bout my life / wanna play you all my songs / and hear your voice sing along.

did it to myself - orla gartland.

i woke up to empty bed / i took a walk to clear my head / i wished you were there instead / but then i shook it off / what the hell did i used to do / i'm even starting to speak like you / and now you're living in my memory / living in my mouth / living in the four fucking walls of my house / i feel like a let down to not be your friend now / i feel like a let down and now you're gone, gone, gone / i know I did it to myself (x3) / i know i / i know i did it to myself (x3) / i know i-

dna - lia marie johnson.

dark as midnight / six pack coors light / you don't look the same / past my bedtime / blue and red lights / come take you away / hate to see you like a monster / so i run and hide / hate to ask, but what's it like to leave me behind? / i won't be, no, i won't be like you / fighting back, i'm fighting back the truth / eyes like yours can look away / but you can't stop dna / no, you can't stop dna / are the pieces of you / in the pieces of me? / i'm just so scared / you're who i'll be / when i erupt / just like you do / they look at me / like i look at you.

i always thought i would be okay - hotel books.

when i finally feel at peace and make sense of all these things / it's in that moment that i miss everybody who ever loved me / and this pain may not be escaping, and i may still be hurting / but that's okay, because at least i'm living / and i can see that someday it will be ending / even if it's not today, i know i'll be set free / so forgive me, i'm usually much more encouraging / but until then, just promise me you won't leave / 'cause my heart may feel empty / but every time i tell myself I'm alone / i know that i'm just lyin / 'cause even though my heart feels empty / the walls hold photos of beautiful memories.

you're not there - lukas graham.

i only got you in my stories / and you know i tell them right / remember you and i, when i'm awake at night / so give it up for fallen glory / i never got to say goodbye / i wish i could ask for just a bit more time / every step i take, you used to lead the way / now I'm terrified to face it on my own time can heal your wounds if / you're strong and standing tall / i've been doing all of that, it didn't help at all / they say you'll grow older, and it'll get better still / yes, I will, but no it won't / they don't get it / 'cause you're not there / to celebrate the man that you made / you're not there / to share in my my success and mistakes / is it fair? / you'll never know the person i'll be / you're not there / with me.

SHU.

burned - grace vanderwaal.

you tell me that i'm crazy / doing this alone / you don't need to save me / oh, how i've grown / i am capable of everything you can see / but now i want to change / you didn't blow out the candles / oh, little boy, you'll never learn / you don't play with fire / but you're already burned / you're already burned / blow out the candles / oh, little boy, you'll never learn / you don't play with fire / but you're already burned / you're already burned.

cold skin - to kill a king.

(place your head on my own) i stare at you, waiting for these damn bombs to fall / (place your head on my own) we're waste with love, like our parents did years before / (place your head on my own) you look strange to me, glowing with our life's certain end / (place your head on my own) we're silent now, save the warning of the radio / they know, we know / we're not kidding anyone except ourselves / stop this world for five minutes / what kind of chances do we give ourselves?

self fulfilling prophecy - maria mena.

self hatred grows in me like cancer / i can't locate its whereabouts but it's feasting on its host. / i expected him to have the answers. / i thought i taught him how to love me now / he fears me like a ghost. / self-fulfilling prophecy / you never fail to comfort me / in this town, filled with / violent mothers / cheating fathers / leaving lovers / angry brothers / starving daughters / starving daughters / worried lovers / i swear to you, i'll never trust again.

wine red - the hush sound.

who shot that arrow in your throat? / who missed the crimson apple? / it hung heavy on the tree above your head / this chaos, this calamity / this garden once was perfect / give your immortality to me / i'll set you up against the stars / we lied, we can't go on / this is the time and this is the place to be alive / the sea is wine red / this is the death of beauty / the doves have died / the lovers have lied.

amsterdam - imagine dragons.

i'm sorry, brother i'm sorry, i let cha down / well, these days you're fine / no these days you tend to lie / you'll take the West train, just by the side of amsterdam / just by your left brain, just by the side of the tin man / but the rain won't fall for the both of us / the sun won't shine on the both of us / believe me when i say, that i wouldn't have it any other way / your time will come if you wait for it, if you wait for it / it's hard, believe me I've tried / but i won't wait much longer 'cause these walls they're crashing down / and i won't wait much longer 'cause these walls they're crashing down / and i keep coming up short.

cringe - matt maeson.

lover come over / look what i've done / i've been alone so long, i feel like i'm on the run / lover come over, kick up the dust / i've got a secret starting to rust / she said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal / she said my spirit doesn't move like it did before / she said that i don't look like me no more, no more / i said i'm just tired / and i said i saw you in the water / (do i make you cringe?)

tagged by: @redemptioninterlude (thank you Z I LOVE THIS STYLE OF MEME SO MUCH ... )

tagging: anyone who has a vowel in their url <3

[underdarkwaters]

Recovery from an ED never really ends, I think. I’ll be doing fine and then see someone online and my brain flips to “why aren’t your arms like that, your jawline could be like that by now if you didn’t give up” and I shoo the thoughts away but then when I go to make lunch I can’t move my arms to grab ingredients. When I finally do after staring into the fridge for long enough that the motor kicks on I hold them in my hands and then put them back and walk away because I don’t feel hungry anymore anyway and THAT is exactly how every attempt at eating would go while I was actively engaging in my disorder, the “this isn’t necessary you can just go sit down” and my body so eagerly following through with that thought after being completely disobedient to the thought of making myself food.

My ex would never want to talk about it. If I needed help it was “just eat” or “I don’t want to listen to this”. He would encourage me to get be smaller or replace my meals with protein shakes and buy tiny bowls to eat from so I can’t overfill my portions and it was painful

She is like this though. She wants me to be the way I am and she wants me to eat and she wants to help me however she can and doesn’t put it down or make me feel like it’s not a big deal or unimportant. I asked this because I needed reassurance after not being able to make lunch and I knew she would be nice to me but I wasn’t expecting her response to feel like I was shot by a barrage of bullets all at once all over my body and in my heart, I immediately started crying and felt loved and it is just completely amazing how the body reacts to real love. She is real love and I am so god damned blessed to have her in my life.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 3.2k

taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!

an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...

You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...

These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.

Rafayel's stare was intense.

Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!

...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.

"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.

You were torn, somewhat.

You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.

...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.

Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.

You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—

"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."

You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.

However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.

Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.

Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—

But you felt like it was.

It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.

You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...

And his eyes.

God, his eyes.

Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.

It was visceral.

It sent a tingle down your spine.

You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—

Was a siren's allure truly so confining?

You had nowhere to run.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...

Intentional.

"Little muse, you're blushing."

If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.

Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.

"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.

"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."

And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.

Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.

You couldn't take any more of this.

You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—

A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.

"Hey. You tired?"

Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.

It wasn't helping.

"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.

And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.

A smirk spread over his features.

You were in for it.

"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."

"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"

He grinned.

"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."

You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.

"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."

You wished you could slap that smile off his face.

Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."

You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.

And he noticed.

"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."

The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.

"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.

You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.

"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."

For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—

Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.

"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"

He was infuriating.

A menace.

This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.

You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.

"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."

Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.

It was foul play.

Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.

It was as if you were... a show.

"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.

His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.

"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."

You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.

You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.

"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.

You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—

"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"

Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.

Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.

"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"

Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."

The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"

"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.

"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.

But you did as he said, anyway.

The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.

"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."

It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.

And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.

Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.

"R-Rafayel..."

Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.

"Keep going, princess, I'm here."

Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—

"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"

In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."

His words proved enough.

"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.

"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."

His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."

You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.

He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.

"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"

You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.

"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.

But he smirked.

A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.

"R- Rafayel...?"

"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."

Don't mind me.

He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.

"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."

The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.

Your eyes went wide.

"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.

And he didn't dare stop there.

He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.

"Look at me, princess," he whispered.

And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.

Your breath hitched.

Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.

"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"

He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.

It had you moaning almost immediately.

"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.

You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.

It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.

Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.

"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"

"Yeah? Need what, hm?"

Oh, he was having fun.

"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"

The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.

All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.

You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.

Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."

⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[painsandconfusion]

Forced Comfort

Because who doesn't like a little bit of intimate whumper vibes?

[Prompt Masterpost]

Whumpee wrapped up in a blanket. The soft fabric hides the fact that their hands are still bound behind their back.

Gentle fingers brushing the hair from Whumpee’s face - carefully peeling it back through the sheen of sweat that’s left.

“Shhh…you’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you anymore..”

Kissing tears from the corners of Whumpee’s eyes.

Whumper keeping Whumpee sedated between sessions to 'help them cope'.

“Hold still- hold still or I’ll start again.”

Pinning a squirming Whumpee in an embrace. Grip tightening the more they struggle. 

Whumpee being so tired. So so so very tired. They can’t help but lean into the gentle touch. 

Whumper ignoring every shiver and twitch that accompanies the gentle pets they give their broken toy.

“Nnnnono-sst…d-on’ t ouchme-!”

Whumpee thrashing to the point of hyperventilation as Whumper wraps them up in blankets. The panic in their eyes ever so slowly fading as they realize they’re not being hurt anymore.

Whumpee desperately not trying to lean into it or accept the comfort. They don’t want it from them - don’t want to melt into the hands that ripped screams from them just a few minute before. But they need something. And Whumper knows it.

“Look at you. Pathetic little thing~”

Shoving Whumpee into a bath to trigger some kind of calming response. Whumpee just thinks they’re going to be drowned. …….maybe they will be. Just a little bit.

Whumper combing a hand through Whumpee’s hair - soft and rhythmic and sweet - as they carve into Whumpee.

“Shhh..just focus on me. Don’t look at  it- just look at me. Listen to my voice. You’re doing so good, little one.”

Kisses peppering over Whumpee’s cheeks, lips, forehead, brows, jaw, etc as their face puckers up, trying to twist away. 

A hug that looks gentle until you notice Whumper’s hand fisted in Whumpee’s hair. Keeping them exactly in place.

“Don’ don t t-ouch me- STOP-”

Drugging Whumpee to ‘help with the nerves’. Watching their panicked sobs slowly peter out into nothing as they stare miserably at their captor. 

“Make the most of this. We start again in the morning.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35 @scribbelle)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bloody

PART TWO: RABBIT HEARTED

Also on AO3

Part One // Mini-series masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Bounty Hunter!Reader

WC: 3.8k words

Chapter Summary: During your journey, tension rises between you and the ghoul... but not the kind you expected. You'd built a solid enough rapport, but you found that you both wanted so much more than just that. And so, you let him get a taste.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, THIS FIC IS 18+, Dead dove: do not eat, canon typical violence, the ghoul being the ghoul, swearing, drug mentions/use (chems), enemies to lovers, animal hunt at the beginning of chapter, nudity (both sexual and non-sexual), masturbation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, dirty talking, sorta dom/sub dynamics, a little bit of chasing, outdoor shenanigans, a little bit of degradation, not really any aftercare in this one but pls always practice it irl, aaaand for now that’s all i can think of but lmk if another tag is needed.

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A flash of brown fur slipping through the underbrush immediately made you still. You kept your eyes peeled for the smallest movement, breathing as quietly as possible… and there it was, a little rabbit. Nose twitching, ears standing at attention, eyes dark and wide. 

Slowly, you raised your crossbow – which you had luckily been able to recover along with part of your pack, another little courtesy of the ghoul – and aimed at its throat. A slow breath expanding your lungs as your finger came to rest on the trigger.

A reedy squeak as the makeshift bolt pierced through, and it slumped on its side. You smiled to yourself victoriously, bending down to retrieve the carcass, hooking it next to the other one already hanging from your belt. It wasn’t much, but it’d get you through the next day if you rationed it well.

The ghoul had, of course, made you the one in charge of food. You’d been hunting for yourself for as long as you could remember, so it wasn’t an outlandish order, but that didn’t mean you weren’t huffy about it.

At the very least, it meant he wouldn’t keep you tied to him at all times.

A few days of strenuous trekking had passed, and while you were keenly observant of your surroundings, you had not attempted escape once. In fact, you never strayed too far, knowing he could find and retrieve you with ridiculous ease.

But it wasn’t just that. This was the closest you’d ever been to finding  Axl, and even if you knew you couldn’t — shouldn’t — fully believe the ghoul’s word, the fact that he had saved your life had to mean something.

Then again, he probably just wanted someone to keep him fed, but only time would tell. For now, you had to keep pushing forward, taking the days as they came.

Tired, you stalked over to a rock outcropping that overlooked the sandy wasteland below. The silence was only vaguely punctuated by a breeze that made you all too aware of how your tattered clothes clung to your sweaty skin. 

It was spring, so the sun wasn’t at its most brutal, but walking, and climbing, and hunting for hours every day still took a toll on you. Not to mention, nearly being brutally killed.

Oh, how you yearned for at least a bucket of clean water to wash yourself off.

The last time you’d been able to do so was when you’d stopped in Filly to restock on some supplies. You were running dangerously low on caps, which prompted the ghoul to offer you a loan.

“We could figure out the interest later,” he’d said with a wink. “I can be a generous fella, believe it or not.”

But you had declined, already knowing well what loans in the wasteland entailed. Perhaps you could take an odd job or two at your next stop, but that depended on how long the ghoul would be willing to linger.

In the meantime, you chose the temporary reprieve of sunning your bare skin and letting the breeze caress it. It wasn’t like you were in a huge rush, anyway, and you desperately needed some time to yourself. You glanced around and kept your ears open to make sure you were alone.

Deftly, you stripped and laid your clothes out so they could also get some sun. You kept your old, wide-brimmed straw hat on to shield your eyes as you looked out at the horizon for a lingering moment. 

You closed your eyes, letting yourself forget the world was an unfair shithole… save for small instances like this one, feeling something akin to peace. You weren’t sure how much time passed, briefly entering a meditative state.

Then you heard it, heavy footsteps emerging from the sparse treeline.

“Jus what the hell is takin’ you so lo— Oh, my. Well, lookie here…”

Your entire body froze, every single one of your nerve endings tingling with awareness. Still, you didn’t try to cover yourself — if anything, as an act of defiance, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing how he rattled you. Plus, nudity wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary in today’s society.

“See something interesting?” You asked casually, glancing at him over your shoulder.

You were startled by the hunger in his gaze, a sly, brazen smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes snagged on the sweat dotting the small of your back, the smooth expanse of your legs, and the curvature of your ass. 

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen, darlin’,” he drawled. “But, boy, if that ain’t a sweet lookin’ peach…”

You turned to face him, crossing your arms below your chest. He let out a low whistle at the sight, hairless eyebrows raising. You could feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, threatening to break through.

“Can a lady not have some privacy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in return and trying not to squirm as his eyes continued to roam.

He huffed in amusement. “You out here in your birthday suit like we at a fuckin’ meat market, what’s the difference if I’m watchin’?”

A small, traitorous thought slipped into your head then — the difference is, I don’t know if I mind too much that you’re looking at me like that… but that can’t be right.

Desire was not uncommon in the wasteland. You’d seen it glinting dangerously in the eyes of strangers as you’d passed, leering grins and rapacious hands sometimes following. You’d heard the sounds of it coming from abandoned places, in little nooks and crannies that were just right for a tryst.

It was a marvel, at that moment, that even a monster could be affected by it…  while also managing to affect you in return.

You had experienced it only a handful of times, but it had rarely been fulfilled. Somehow, though, the ghoul’s gaze had left a fiery imprint on your skin, clinging like an afterthought. Or perhaps a promise.

Instead of insisting he leave, you began redressing, not too quickly as to seem desperate, but also not too slowly as to make it seem like a seduction. You strapped on your pack and your crossbow last, walking past him without a word, bumping your arm against his.

His chuckle trailed after you as you made your way back towards the small camp you’d set up in an abandoned building. While you’d been off hunting, he’d scoped out the place to make sure there were no fiends or mutants lurking about. 

Down in the basement, he built a fire as you skinned the rabbits, only preparing one of them for cooking. You already knew he mostly preferred his meals… raw.

He ate quickly, ravenously even, as you waited for your strips of meat to finish cooking. Then you heard him inhale chem – RadAway, by the looks of it – from a canister, coughing a few times before letting out a long, relaxed sigh.

You watched him sidelong, still trying to figure out the riddle of the man whose name you didn’t even know.

“So… are you ever gonna tell me why you’re looking for Axl?”

“I already told ya, girl, it ain’t none of your goddamn business,” he said slowly, not looking at you as he settled back against the wall. 

You scoffed. “Don’t I have the right to know at least a little bit more about who is herding me along?”

“Y’ain’t got the right to much of anythin’ ‘round these parts,” he said. “Ain’t you a surface dweller?”

You nodded, inclined in part to get defensive over your knowledge of things, but at the same time… It had been so long since you’d had the opportunity to confide in someone else. Not that he was ideal for it, but you had to admit that having company was quite nice.

It highlighted your loneliness, too, and you had to believe that he wasn’t all too different from you in that respect. You stared at the licking flames in front of you, your mind wandering further away.

“My father was a courier for one of the vaults. We only had each other, so he didn’t like leaving me anywhere. Not even when the vault’s overseer offered to take me in so they could care for me,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “He taught me everything I know, even how to fight.”

“Sounds like he was a smart man,” the ghoul commented idly. “Not leavin’ you to rot in them underground prisons.”

You smiled ever so slightly, pleased and surprised to hear his small praise for your father. You felt yourself relax, having been prepared for a fight. Finally, you were able to start eating, making sure to do it slowly as you were distracted down memory lane.

“He was, and I’m grateful for it,” you said. “Shitty as it can be out here, I like the open air, the sun, even the damn rad rains that leave me sick the next day.”

He grunted at that. “What ‘bout ghouls? You like us, too?”

You looked back at him, your smile turning cryptic. “Not all of them.”

A flash of teeth, tongue darting between them. “Well, ain’t much a mean motherfucker like me can do to convince ya.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve.”

“You betcha, I do. Gonna ask me for a demonstration, smoothie?”

At this, silence, coiling tight like a viper readying to strike. You stared at each other, challenging, willing one another to break first. To what end, though? Your stomach flipped at the possibilities.

Before you could think it through — knowing deep down you ought to shut it down completely — you said, “Not tonight.”

You quickly looked away, hands trembling slightly from an influx of adrenaline, your heart racing once more. You painstakingly put away the rest of your rations of rabbit, stomach still feeling hollow. Though you were distracted by the stirring of something unnameable within you, all too similar to curiosity. 

He was loose and languid, in a better mood than most of the time. Bantering like this was more fun than you’d thought it would be, only making you want more. It seemed he was full of surprises, which meant you couldn’t be too unguarded, no matter how much he might make you laugh. 

Or how he seemed to be drawing you in slowly, like a moth to a flame.

———————————-

Those confusing feelings followed you into sleep, plaguing your dreams with images that had you restless and whimpering. Your body felt hypersensitive and warm all over, but still, you didn’t wake.

The ghoul, who didn’t really need to sleep, was privy to all this. He watched from his spot against the wall, the way you tossed and turned, little noises in your throat. He knew it wasn’t nightmares, not with the way your thighs would rub together. You weren’t exactly a peaceful sleeper, but that was the first time it was due to something else — Something he himself had caused.

All the rest of that day, he’d been stuck thinking of the moment he’d found you. The instant lure of your soft skin, the challenge in your eyes, and your raised chin. Distantly, he remembered the myth of an ancient goddess ordering hunting dogs to tear their own master apart, merely for looking at her naked form. 

Wouldn’t that be an interesting fate? he thought to himself, not at all put off by it, especially if the goddess happened to look just like you. 

Throughout the darkest hours of the night, he’d tried palming himself to ease the building ache, but to no avail. So, as quietly as he could, he’d relieved himself listening to the sounds you made, his eyes closed. Imagining his face buried in your cunt, head nestled between your trembling legs. It didn’t take long at all for him to finish.

In the morning, by the time you’d woken up, he had returned to his usual self. He made you share your rations, arguing that you’d go hunting later, anyway. Barely gave you any time to reorganize your pack before he was dragging you out of the basement to check the perimeter for anything salvageable.

Neither of you addressed the previous evening, but there were still lingering looks, excuses to be in each other’s space, and twice as much bickering. The fuse between you two was short, you knew it, but it was all a matter of who lit it.

“How many more days north?” you asked as you’d finally set off, a long day of walking ahead of you.

“A week, then we shift west for another week,” he said, walking behind you as usual. “I better not hear you start complainin’. You slow me down, I’ll leave your ass behind, perky as it may be.” 

You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up a little at that. “How do you know I won’t drop you first?”

“Oh, I know. You need me, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently. “In more than one way.”

You rolled your eyes but had no retort, since he wasn’t altogether wrong. Then your mind pivoted in a more devious direction, wanting to test another theory. It was a foolish risk to take, one that made adrenaline tense your muscles, rabbit heart jackhammering inside your ribcage. You glanced coquettishly at him over your shoulder, and by your grin, he immediately knew something was up.

“And if I ran?” 

“Don’t go actin’ stupid now, I think you know the consequences of that, too,” he said, his tone somehow both a warning and a dare. 

You hummed pensively, covertly making sure your pack was securely strapped to you. You let the silence hang until you rounded a corner up the path, and then your legs were pumping as hard as they would go. A broad, exhilarated smile on your face, nervous laughter bubbling up your throat. 

You heard his yell, followed by his heavy footfalls, approaching much faster than you would’ve liked. A shot burst against a tree trunk as you passed, but you knew he was just trying to scare you. Wincing, you kept running, winding left and right in a zig-zag pattern. 

Not that you were actually planning on going anywhere, but you had always had a thing for pushing the limits. No matter how much trouble it might get you in. 

Spurs clinking growing louder, then the swish of something being thrown. The lasso encircled you, tightening around your midsection before yanking backward. The world around you pinwheeled, disorienting you for a moment.

Your pack braced your fall some, but you exhaled sharply as you landed. Chest heaving as you panted raggedly, your vision suddenly filled with the ghoul smirking down at you.

“Well, I guess stupidity can’t be helped, huh?” He drawled, propping his revolver pistol on his shoulder and crouching down. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d wager you were just tryin’ to get me all riled up…”

“Me?” You said innocently, betrayed by a teasing grin.

And oh, if that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back. He grabbed you by the shirt and lifted your torso to meet him halfway, your faces inches apart. 

“Think I’m playin’ around, sweetheart?” He husked.

You shook your head and  licked your lips, drawing his eyes there. You saw the hunger in them again, flaring to life brighter than before. You felt a pulse deep in your core, the flint striking to start the fire.

You bit your bottom lip, keeping yourself from squirming, and he grunted.

“Hm. No, I don’t think I’ve convinced you well enough, actually.” He tilted his head to one side, eyes returning to yours. “I think I oughta give you more proof.”

His grip on your shirt tightened and you realized too late what he was going to do.

“Wait!” You gasped, but the thin fabric had already given away, messily ripping in half.

You glared up at him. “That was my only backup! Couldn’t you at least let me take it off?”

“Fuck if I care,” he said with a shrug, a low sound in his throat as he pushed the rest of it off of you. “It was in the way.”

He withdrew his hands only to slowly tug his gloves off, dropping them unceremoniously on the ground along with his pistol. His hands were warm and callused as they roamed over the expanse of your abdomen, heading upwards. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned as he reached your bra, but he only tugged it down, revealing your breasts. 

The sound he tried to conceal made your spine tingle, shoulders drawing together, pushing your chest out.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. Such a nice pair of tits,” he husked, pulling a shuddery sound from you as his hands cupped them.

A little bolt of electricity shooting down to your pussy as he pinched your nipples, hard. Brows furrowing with the combination of pleasure and pain. 

“Take this fuckin’ thing off before I rip it off with my teeth,” he growled, a desperate edge beneath his biting tone. “Matter of fact, take the rest of your clothes off.”

You did quick work of unsnapping your bra and wiggling out of the straps of your pack. He shrugged off his coat and moved back to sit against the base of an old, gnarled tree, watching you closely as you kicked your boots off. The shift of your hips as you pushed down your pants, surely teasing him by keeping your cotton panties on.

“Those too,” he grunted, one hand on his pistol, the other palming the prominent bulge in his pants. 

You let them drop with the rest of your things, slowly approaching as he beckoned you, patting his thigh. He pulled you down onto his lap when you were close enough. Raising his hips as you settled, pushing his bulge against your cunt.

“Now look at me,” he said as your mouth slackened, grasping your chin. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, pushing it down, fighting back the ravenous urge to kiss you. “I ain’t gonna take you today, but I will get myself a taste.”

The tip of your tongue darted over the pad of his thumb. A lazy drag of your hips against him made your breathing hitch, but still there was mischief in your eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be able to resist?”

“Oh, I’m positive, honey. I don’t fuck brats,” he said, grinning roguishly. “Not ‘til I tame ‘em first.”

One of his hands came to rest between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward. The other hand cracked down against your ass, making your body jerk. Then he had his mouth on you, lips closing around the hardened peak of your left nipple. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you moaned, clenching around nothing as he nipped at the sensitive flesh. He continued sucking and licking at your chest, the hand that had spanked you tracing lower. The tips of his fingers reaching your cunt from behind, teasing the entrance.

“My… you’re soaked already,” he rasped against your skin, moving to give your collarbones some attention. “Y’like the idea of being punished, don’tcha? Filthy girl.”

He felt your walls flutter at that, cunt sucking a little more of his fingers in. 

“Please,” you gasped mindlessly, knowing you would beg if it came down to it.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he gruffed, making you yelp with a bite to your shoulder. “On your back.”

It was said as an order, but he manhandled you onto your back, on top of the coat he’d shrugged off earlier. Rough hands pushed your thighs apart, putting you on display for him. A ragged sound, and his fingers were parting your soaked, glistening folds. 

“What a feast,” he rasped. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you said, nodding quickly. “All yours.”

“Atta girl, that’s what I like to hear.”

With that, his head dipped and you felt the first exploratory drag of his tongue. A puff of warm air against your cunt as he groaned, the tip of his tongue circling around your clit teasingly.

Your hips bucked, gripping the fabric of his duster beneath you for dear life. His tongue dipped into the source of your ache, the taste of you pulling another long groan out of him.  

“Fuck, such a sweet little pussy you’ve got. And I think it likes me, too,” he said before smearing his saliva and your fluids all over, making a mess of your inner thighs. “Jus’ keeps getting wetter and wetter for me.”

“Keep going, please,” you panted, looking down at him through fluttering lashes. “Feels s-so good…”

“Oh yeah? Does it now?” 

You keened as you felt two of his fingers pushing inside of you. His other hand pressed flat against your navel, keeping you from bucking away from him. He couldn’t help himself, his tongue flicking against your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

He felt you start to tremble, your thighs threatening to shut around his head. He started going faster.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…” the expletive fell from your wanton mouth like a plea, for mercy or… otherwise. “I-I’m… I’m gonna…”

He grunted his approval, feeling you clamp tight around his fingers. His fingers curled, hitting that textured spot inside you that had stars dancing in your vision. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you practically cartwheeled over the edge, ripples of ecstasy numbing all other senses. 

It was the hardest you’d ever orgasmed, and he helped you ride it all the way through. Languished in the cradle of your thighs for a moment longer as your loud moans tapered out into soft whines. When your soul started to slip back into your body, head still swimming, he pulled away and stood up.

He angled his hips away so you couldn’t see the mess at the front of his pants. Heart pounding in his chest in a way that made him feel alive and whole again, erasing the last two hundred plus years from his mind for a mere moment in time. 

But he gave no indication of it. Nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just entirely shattered you, he walked towards your clothes and tossed you your underwear. 

“Clean yourself up and get dressed,” he said, his voice still ragged as he commanded you. “Quickly now, we ain’t got all day. I’ll let ya rest when we get to the next spot.”

Dazed and wobbly-legged, you did as told, wondering how you were supposed to hike for hours after that. He watched you stumble to get your canteen, water dripping down your chin as you drank.

Chuckled to himself with self-satisfaction, the taste of you seared into his mind.

“Maybe you are starting to change my mind ‘bout what I put in my mouth,” he said as you finished dressing. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll need to try again to confirm.”

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[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

Agust D 'Amygdala' MV

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.5 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Blushing

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, Rex being cute, firing practice, target practice, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag list (I am so happy people want to be tagged <3): @heavenseed76 @arctrooper69

Minors DNI

You had to be honest with yourself. 

Your aim sucked. 

As a field surgeon, you technically weren’t supposed to be anywhere near droids. Your main purpose was to stay behind the forces and perform surgery and intensive medical care to those with severe wounds.

Kix would be on the front lines and keep the injured alive as long as possible until he could get them to you. 

You could hit your targets, if they were big enough. Like a tank. Or if they were about 5 feet in front of you…

Ok, you couldn’t really hit your targets. You’ve been with the 501st for months now and you haven’t gotten any better. 

You debated going full clone trooper and just punching the droids. After all, the soldiers had just gotten proper armor for their hands. Maybe you could get a pair of armored gloves…

“Everything alright?” 

You perked up hearing the question from Rex, snapping your attention back to the present. You had zoned out, staring at the same datapad for several minutes now. 

Right, you had come to his office to help a supply crate mix-up. Someone hadn’t properly labeled the crates, so there were blasters mixed with medical supplies, and bandages mixed with armor…It was a mess. And to make sure nothing was missing, you and him were supposed to go over the numbers so no helmet or tube of bacta was out of place. 

You sighed, “Yea, just…thinking. That's all.”

The Captain raised a brow, silently encouraging you to continue.

Over your time with the 501st, you’ve been able to read Rex more than anyone else. You understood what he was thinking through his expressions. You could guess his feelings based on his stance and body language, even when he wore his helmet.

Perhaps it was your training as a doctor that allowed you to read him so easily. 

Or…maybe it was the growing affection you had for him.

It’s a passing crush, that's all. You told yourself, Clones aren’t allowed to have romantic relationships. This’ll pass. Don’t get your hopes up.

Shoving that thought out of your mind you put the datapad down, “I’m a terrible shot.”

Rex let out a soft and surprised chuckle at your blunt statement, “Well…you're technically not supposed to be.”

“No, I mean…even if I need to defend myself or the wounded…I miss almost every shot with a blaster.” You responded, “I’ve tried to practice but…I just can’t aim very well…”

He had a small smirk on his lips, “You can’t be worse than a clanker.” 

“I assure you, I am.” 

Rex laughed again, “I can teach you, if you want. Besides, I’m sure a break would be good for us both.” 

Your heart fluttered. 

“I’d like that.” 

Which is how you found yourself in the hangar, standing about 20 meters away from an empty crate with a painted target. There were scorch marks dotting the metal and yellow paint, indicating that you weren’t the first person to need aim training.

The makeshift target range was mostly out of the way and out of sight of everyone else in the hangar, offering some privacy.

“I didn’t know this was here.” You admitted, staring at the target. 

Rex shrugged, “Some shinies set this up. The General didn’t mind, so I kept it for anyone who wanted to practice their shooting.”

You nodded in understanding. Usually if something didn’t make sense, the answer was always ‘shinies’.

“Alright, now, pick up your blaster.” He took the tone of a commanding Captain. His arms were crossed as he watched you get your pistol ready. You wrapped your hands on your blaster, and got into the stance you were trained to be in. 

You didn’t even put your finger on the trigger before Rex spoke up, “Already, I see the issue.” he stepped towards you, putting his gloved hands over yours. He changed the position of your hold, moving one of your palms from the bottom of the grip to over your other hand. 

You blinked, “Oh, I was holding it wrong.” 

Rex had a relaxed smile, “It's a common mistake.” He stepped back and nodded, “Fire.” 

You pulled the trigger and the blaster kicked back as it fired. However, you managed to keep the gun relatively steady. Your shot missed the target, hitting the upper corner of the crate. With a sigh you looked over at the captain. 

He kept his arms crossed, “Focus on where you’re aiming. Where you look, that's where you’ll hit.”

With a steadying breath, you looked down the sights of your gun and pulled the trigger again. Your shot was closer to the target that time, however, still not a hit. 

“Better.” Rex approached again. This time, he got closer, putting his hands over yours and stepping behind you. You felt the plastoid of his chestplate on your back as he leaned into your body, “Raise the blaster a little higher and try again.”

Don’t get distracted. Don't get distracted. 

You swallowed and pulled the trigger. Again, your shot had gotten closer to the target, barely hitting the yellow of the first ring. Frustration hit you and you huffed. 

Rex laughed softly and it struck you how warm his laugh was. How lovely.

Stop it. Grow out of your crush, you're not some grade school student. You are a grown ass adult. Act like it.

“Just look at the target. Not the sights on the blaster.” The clone captain was rolling incredibly well with your failures. He kept his hold on you as you calmed your emotions to focus. You did as he told, staring at the bright yellow target meters in front of you.

With another breath, you fired. 

This time, you hit the target. Not a bullseye at all, but at least you hit inside the last yellow ring.

“Oh, hey I actually got it.” You perked up, smiling slightly. 

Rex, sadly, let go and stepped back, “Good, now do it again. I want to see you hit the target at least 4 more times.” He put his helmet on, crossing his arms to watch you. He was tense now.

You tried not to let his sudden shift in attitude bother you. He was probably worried that someone might turn the corner and see him so lax and uncaptain-like. Rex did have to be professional after all…

Still, you did miss the warmth he gave. 

Again, you pulled the trigger. Without him holding your gun steady, your shot veered slightly and hit the outermost ring, “That counts.” you stated, looking over to the clone. 

He nodded, “It counts. I’ll be nice this time. But just this once.”

You couldn’t hold back your grin and you shot again. Another hit. Still no bullseye, but you got closer. 

Hey, 3 for 3. One more.

Without getting over confident, you took a steadying breath and pulled the trigger. 

Again, no bullseye, but your shot landed inside the second ring. You were improving. Or this was just pure luck. Either way, you’ll take it.

You smiled and turned to look at Rex. He nodded in approval and stepped towards you, “Very good. You learn quickly. Better than most troopers who step off Kamino.” 

“Aw, you think I’m better than a shiny?” You joked, hoping to help him relax.

He huffed under his helmet, but you could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s not a high bar, Doctor.” 

“I’ll take the compliment, Captain.” 

He was about to respond when your and his coms both beeped. He answered his and you answered yours. 

“Doctor, there's a patient in the sick bay.”

“Captain Rex, you're needed at the command bridge.”

With a sigh, you shared a look with Rex and rolled your eyes. You gave him a grateful smile, “Back to work, then?” 

“It never ends.” He sighed, “If you want…if you want to practice again, just let me know.” 

Your answer was kind and sweet, “I will. Thank you, Rex.” 

As you parted ways, you tried to calm your beating heart. 

It's a crush. It's a crush. Grow up. Just grow up already!

Rex, on the other hand, kept his helmet on as he walked away, because he was certain he was still blushing like a damn cadet.

He’s a captain. Captains shouldn’t fucking blush!

[sokoviansimp]

The Package

✒  Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Child!Reader (platonic)

✒  Tags & Warnings: child taken by hydra, neglect

-lmk if im missing any

✒ A/N : I’m planning for this to be a series :) I’m open to requests or suggestions for other parts

✒ Summary: The team is sent off to retrieve a dangerous package from Hydra, instead they find a child. 

✒ Word Count: 3373

Masterlist | The Package AU | Part 2

“If all goes to plan, this should be textbook stuff,” Steve explained to the team waiting to unload from the Quinjet, “we get in, get the package, and then get out. Understood?” The team consisting of Wanda, Tony, Clint, and Nat all nodded on queue.

At that point, they felt the landing gear make contact with the ground just a couple miles out from the Hydra base they planned to invade. The exit door began to lift and they all filed out of the vehicle to get into position. Wanda and Tony took to the sky for surveillance while the other 3 followed behind on 2 motorcycles.

The plan was to be as discrete as they could for as long as possible. They knew it wouldn’t be a stealth mission, but to draw the least amount of attention until they had the package was ideal. 

Wanda took out the guards at the gate before they could trigger an alarm while Tony blasted the surveillance cameras. The ground team was free to move into the base, all was going according to plan. It didn’t take long for them to draw attention to themselves once they infiltrated the entrance. The opposing team sprung into action, sending as many goons as they could to slow down the invasion long enough to escape with what they needed most from a helicopter on the roof. 

Tony saw the blades of the helicopter slowly start to spin as they warmed up and quickly blasted them off with his repulser to prevent them from leaving. Quickly making his way to the helicopter to retrieve the package, that he assumed they were trying to escape with. 

“Oh, no you don’t” he quipped toward the scientists as he took them out and snatched their briefcase. 

“Steve, I’ve got the briefcase, time to boogie,” Tony exclaimed over the comms. 

“Briefcase?” Steve repeated, confused. 

“Yea, in my hand. Let’s go,”

“The package won’t fit in a briefcase, Tony.” Steve rebutted, “Does it say HS12?” 

The briefcase was silver and had no distinct markings on it other than the hydra symbol at the top adorning the combination lock, “er- no, but they were trying to leave with it so I just-” 

“Keep looking Stark” Steve commanded. 

Going through the same doors that the scientists came through on the roof, Wanda went in to search the building for the real package they were after. The only thing she knew about it, is that it’s labeled HS12 and it’s extremely dangerous. Making her way through the dimly lit halls of the base, she saw weapon labs labeled with a W and corresponding numbers. Initially, she went into one hoping to find what she was looking for but everything in the room began with a W so she knew she was likely far off from her target. 

Coming up empty handed she decided to ask for help. The room that she went into initially was empty, so she found one that wasn’t, “Excuse me?” she said with feigned innocence, “I’m looking for something specific, can one of you help me?” 

The scientists tried to scurry away knowing exactly who they were speaking with. Wanda Maximoff was spoken about widely throughout Hydra, she was one of their greatest successes after all. With little effort; Wanda trapped the men in the room with her, locking the doors shut with her magic, “HS12, Where can I find it?” Wanda sternly queried, she hated being back in the house of hydra after being experimented on by the same people just a couple of years prior. Reminding herself that she was a misinformed volunteer helped quell the hatred she held for them in her soul. Some of these people may be of the same fate, thinking they're changing the world for the better, only to be helping the wrong team. Or even worse, some of these people may not even have a choice in the matter at all. Doing work to protect a loved one from threats of torture or even death. 

As silence stained the room, she decided to give her audience some incentive to answer. Using her magic, she lifted the scientist with the most badges displayed on his lab coat up into the air. Judging by the badges, he’s likely been there a while, meaning he should have the information she’s seeking. While in her grasp, the red wisps moved up to his throat as they squeezed into each other, cutting off his oxygen supply, “I won’t ask again”

Merely seconds later, the scientist was already squirming, “th-” he tried to gasp out, Wanda loosened her hold on his throat just enough for him to speak the answer, “third fl- floor” he squealed out; desperate for air, and scared for his life. Wanda wasted no time, abruptly dropping the scientist to the linoleum tile that sat below him as she turned to head for the staircase. 

The entrance to the third floor from the stairwell was locked, needing a keycard for entry. The door read Authorized Personnel Only in bold red letters. This didn’t do anything to stop Wanda, as she blasted her magic through the door swinging it open. Similarly to the rooms on the upper floor, each one was labeled with HS and a corresponding number. The first door to her left reads HS37, so she continues down the hall to look for 12. The first chunk of rooms are empty, it isn’t until she gets down around 15 that she realizes they aren’t weapon rooms, they’re cells. Then it clicks; HS = Human Subject.

Her heartbeat picks up as her mind starts to conjure images of what type of monster could be waiting for her behind the door. Whatever it is, whoever it is, she’s sure she can handle it, in fact, she’s slightly relieved that she’s the one to find it because she’s probably best suited out of the current team to face a dangerous creature. With only a few doors between 15 and 12, she arrives quicker than her mind can prepare, so she stands there for a couple of seconds, inhaling deeply before blasting the locked door with her magic. 

As she enters, the building starts to tremble, shockwaves radiating from the room. She’s met with quite the opposite of what she was expecting, a small child scurrying to huddle into a fetal position in the corner of the room terrified of the stranger that just entered. Most of the time, people visiting your cell were unwelcomed, but at least they were familiar. Their visits often resulted in needles being poked into your arms which made you dread the sound of the hinges on the door. 

Wanda’s features immediately softened in an attempt to calm you, “Hi there, it’s ok malyshka, I’m not going to hurt you,” she gently assured 

You nuzzled your head deeper into your legs seeking any comfort you could get as tears threaten to spill from your eyelids. 

“Steve, you didn’t tell us HS12 is a child,” Wanda said angrily over the comms to the super soldier. 

“A what?!” Natasha chimed in confused

The increase of Wanda’s voice jarred your nerves even more, and it was noticeable by the way the shake of the building picked up. 

“Wanda, what’s your location?” Steve queried

“Third floor.”

“Stay there, we’re coming. Be careful, she’s dangerous.” Steve warned

Deciding not to heed Steve’s comment, Wanda continued on with her attempt to calm you down, “Shh, it’s ok. What’s your name?”

“y-y/n” you squeaked out

“Y/N, such a pretty name. I’m Wanda,”

“Wan-da?” you tested the name on your tongue, still unsure about the woman standing before you. 

“Yes!” she exclaimed excitedly, “I’m here to help you,” she conveyed with a genuine smile. Her brows raised slightly as she spoke.

“No poke?” you whimpered, wanting to trust Wanda because she felt motherly but still reluctant.

“No, no poke.” she reached for you, “come on.”

You hesitantly took her hand as you stood on grounded feet beneath you, “where we go?”

“Home,” Wanda assured

Confused, you furrowed your brows and looked at the redhead, “I no have home”

Hearing you utter the words broke her heart, not only the fact that it may be true, but it was the way you knew it to be true that left her heart in little pieces, “That’s going to change, dorogoy.” 

“No, no leave,” you shook your head side to side as you removed your hand from hers and backed up until you made contact with the wall, “I be good, no ouchies,” you stated, worrying what they would do to you if they caught you trying to leave. 

Wanda kneeled down to your level, “no one will hurt you, ill make sure of it.”

Within a couple of seconds, the rest of the team arrived at your doorway. Seeing Steve and Clint in the doorway was enough to send your nerves into overload. Men, in general, scared you, everyone that you recalled causing you harm had always been male so you were much less likely to trust them. Their suits and weapons only helped to give you more anxiety that they were there to cause you pain, “NO! PLEASE!” you screamed as sounds of stray items hitting the floor echoed through the hallways.

“Wanda, we have to get her out of here” Steve stated in a stoic tone 

“Y/N, I need you to calm down for me, can you do that? Look at me,” she said trying her best to diffuse the situation without subduing you. 

All you wanted to do was cry out for your mama, you wanted to be held and told it will all be ok but you knew that wasn’t an option. You lost your mother and she’s never coming back, no one was coming to help ease your emotions, you’re all on your own and you only have yourself to protect you.  

At that moment, a crack bellowed through the ceiling causing a chunk to fall above your head. Without a second thought, Clint drew an arrow from his quiver and shot straight through the debris, breaking it into smaller pieces in an effort to protect you. From your point of view, you saw a man draw an arrow on you and miss just above your head, who knows what he’d do next? 

The action, in an involuntary attempt to protect yourself, caused shockwaves to erupt from your tiny form as you squealed and folded in on yourself. The building had already started crumbling, but this was the final straw that rained trauma on every support in the structure.

With the building on the verge of swallowing you all whole and Wanda’s attempts to calm you falling short, she knew she had to stop you, for your own safety. The crimson tendrils of magic flew out from her fingers to seep directly into your mind, quelling your thoughts instantly and leaving you in restful sleep. The building stopped shaking the second you were out, some damage remained but the structure was still standing. As your legs gave out underneath you, Wanda was there to catch you from the impending floor and bring you straight into her arms, holding you tightly. 

Wanda held you in her arms the entire flight. How could someone do this to such an innocent child, she thought. A part of her felt guilty for ever being a part of an organization that would go to such great lengths. You were sleeping, but the dreams swirling around in your head were far from quiet. To be truthful, being asleep was one of your favorite things, you were free to explore your own imagination in 4 dimensions instead of being confined to the cell the Hydra held you captive in. 

Natasha, knowing how hard this must be for Wanda, made her way over to sit next to the Sokovian. She placed a reassuring hand on Wanda’s thigh to show her that she’s there for her while Wanda zoned out, deep in thought. 

“She’s lucky you found her,” Natasha gently stated.

“I just, I don’t understand how someone could hurt her,” Wanda sighed, “To look into that little face and lock her in a cell,” her bottom lip quivered as tears threatened to spill over but she held them back. 

“I know, but now we can make sure no one ever hurts her again,” Nat offered. 

Wanda pulled her lips together and lifted her cheeks slightly to form a neutral expression of acknowledgment. After a beat of silence, Natasha wrapped her left arm around the redhead. Wanda melted into the Russian next to her, allowing her head to lean back onto her chest, “I’m not giving her up to Fury,” Wanda whispered. 

“I know.”

When the team lands, they immediately bring you to the medbay and Tony gets to work on an inhibitor for your powers. They gather a little blood so they can run tests and the only reason Wanda even lets them is that you're asleep and won’t be bothered. Once they've released you from the medical unit, Wanda takes you to her room to get cleaned up. 

“Don’t get too attached, Maximoff. We have to give her to Fury,” Steve called out as Wanda ignored him and made her way up the stairs with you. 

She gently lays you on the bed as she leaves to start running the bath water. As the water fills, she returns to your side and begins to shake you gently. The redhead was nervous to wake you before Tony finished the inhibitor, but she was confident that she could soothe you enough for a bath, “Y/N” she hummed to your laying figure on the bed, as you began to stir awake, “wake up, malyshka, it’s tubby time” 

The words rang into your ears, and in your waking stupor, you imagined you were back in your home with your mother. You stretched your arms above your head before opening your eyes to the sight of a smiling redhead looming above you. The same one from your cell, she told you her name, what was it? Oh right!

“Wana” you blurted

“Yes! Wanda,” the sokovian punctuated the d in her name that you had missed, “Come little one, let’s get you all cleaned up,” she said taking you in her arms and bringing you both into the bathroom. 

To her surprise, you had no negative reaction to waking up in a completely different environment. You felt safe with Wanda, and the room you were in was so much nicer than the cell you had been confined to that you didn’t see a reason to be scared. 

“Where are we?” you questioned, knowing you were no longer at the Hydra base, or at least nowhere that you had ever seen. 

“We are at the Avengers Compound,” Wanda explained, “This is my bedroom,” she continued as she took your clothes off, plopping them in the laundry bin and getting you settled into the tub. 

“A-bengers?” 

“Yes, have you heard of them before, Y/N?” Wanda wondered how much you knew

“No, neber”

“Well, the Avengers are superheroes, they save people.”

You let the words sink in as Wanda lathered soap into a cloth, “Abengers saved me?” you tried putting the pieces together. 

“We did,” Wanda began, rubbing the soft soap-filled cloth along your shoulders, “and no one will ever hurt you again.” Your gaze traveled upward to meet hers as a small smile crept onto your face. 

The feeling of being in a bath again made you so happy. The last time you had a bath, you were with your mother. Just being in the tub again brought back feelings of comfort. Wanda took her time to be gentle with you as she knew it was going to be a long bath. You had so much grime build-up in your hair from being neglected in a cell that she wasn’t sure if it would be best to just cut it off. Even though you needed extreme cleaning, she didn’t want to overwhelm you on your first day either. As long as she could get you clean enough to feel comfortable she would accept it for the time being. 

You continue to learn more about the avengers throughout your bath as you asked Wanda lots of questions. Your personality was finally getting to show itself, after almost a year of being buried.

“Friday, can you ask Nat to bring Y/Ns clothes upstairs?” Wanda called out to the AI intercom, “Sure thing, Ms. Maximoff!” it quickly notated.

Your eyes widened and your face lifted at the robot's voice, “Who’s dat?” you pointed in the air to try and pinpoint the direction of the voice

“That is Friday, she’s like uh- a robot assistant”

It doesn’t take long for Natasha to arrive with your clothes, “How’d it go?” she asks peering into the bathroom before walking in. 

“It went great! Y/N did so well!” she says beaming you with the brightest smile. The two girls get you dressed and bring you back into the bedroom. 

“She's a weapon and she needs to be handed over to the right people.” the three of you overheard Steve’s take on your custody as you entered the common room in Wanda’s arms. The redhead felt your body tense up as soon as the other Avengers came into view, “it’s ok malyshka, no one will hurt you here” she whispered toward you in an attempt to calm the anxiety that she knew was brewing within you. You nuzzled into her neck in response, feeling safe in her hold. 

“She’s not a weapon, she’s a child,” Natasha cut into Steve’s conversation with Tony, better her than Wanda for Steve’s sake, “have some compassion, Rogers”

“-with unchecked powers that could destroy this planet” Steve added, 

“So we keep them in check,” Nat stated without hesitation. 

“You’re not seriously considering keeping her here?” Steve shifted his weight to turn his attention to Natasha. 

“Why not? It’s the perfect place for her to learn how to control her powers.” A wave of relief washed over Wanda to see that she wasn’t the only one wanting to keep you around. 

“Because we aren’t running a daycare” Steve doesn’t let up, “She needs to be handed over to Fury.”

“Yea, well Wanda and I both know what it’s like to be experimented on at a young age, it’s not something you just get over. We have a real chance to give her a better life, teach her how to control her gifts, and make sure no one ever hurts her again.” 

“She’s staying here, and if Fury has an issue with that, he can come find me.” Wanda snarls as she walks through the common room with you toward the theatre.

Wanda sat you down in one of the La-Z-Boy chairs in the front row as she set up the movie, “any requests, malyshka?” wanda offered as she scrolled through some options on the screen

Your face lit up at the sight of the golden dog, “Doggy!” you exclaim with an outstretched arm towards the screen.

Your reaction causes a chuckle from Wanda, “Dug Days it is.” She smiled as she started the first episode.

The show had you on the edge of your seat, excited about what shenanigans the dog would be up to. It felt so good for you to finally be able to act like a kid again. You couldn’t help the thoughts swirling in the back of your brain of going back to the bad place. Before Wanda had a chance to start the next episode, you blurted out, ”Dey want me to leave?”

“What?”

“Da man, is he gonna make me leave?” you meet her gaze with doe wide eyes.

“No sweetie, this is your home now.” she gently assured you as she rubbed your back.

“Really? Home?” you tested the word once more now that it had real meaning to you. 

“Yes, come here” Wanda lifted the armrest that separated the two of you and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder allowing you to snuggle into her side as she clicked play on the next episode.

[enluv]

003: fuck you google is free — THE GHOST OF YOU!

– warnings: dark humor (parents divorce, kms, die, etc), profanity, mentions of phroggers (if that triggers you idk), lmk if I missed anything!

MASTERLIST / PREV / NEXT

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ INSIDER’S LOOK:

– heey/n my fav broken up but still in love couple 😻

– sunghoon gets super bored since he’s always stuck at the apartment, that’s why he’s a menace to y/n

– coco is in a rush because she needs to leave to go to her last day of work !!

coco’s <3 note: ummm short-ish chapter today because i need to leave so if there are any mistakes just tell me and I’ll fix them later after work!! also I wanted to say that this smau isn’t a romance smau…idk if I ever said that but i feel like atp it’s pretty clear 😭 sunghoon and y/n will eventually come together but in a platonic relationship not much more so if that upsets you im sorry!! I’ll explain more when I have time <3

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[swagginmun]

LMK FORGED FAITH DISCLAIMER

The artist behind this work is an adult, so please bear this in mind when messaging them! All main characters within this story are assumed to be adults - If you find that uncomfortable, please feel free to stop reading!

With that in mind, you may find the following as this story progresses:

Blood, Violence, Strong and/or Suggestive Language, Psychological Abuse, Mild Nudity

As such, the recommended rating for this story is PG-13, so please bear that in mind!

With any potentially triggering material that I find needs to be warned about, there will be tags used such as tw: [content] on the pages themselves, such as tw: blood. Which pages get those tags are up to my discretion, so do not tell me how to tag!

This is a Living document; meaning things may be added or removed depending on how things go as the story progresses.

[matthewkniesys]

where do we go now? - jamie drysdale

summary:

a/n: so firstly thank you @huggybearhughesy for your help!! this is based on the lyrics of gracie abrams song "where do we go now?". the lyrics are in bold. this isn't my favourite thing but i'm trying to push through a writers block so hopefully you guys like it :)

pairing: jamie drysdale x fem!reader

good riddance fic series

warnings: swearing and angst and i think thats it but lmk if you find anything else

You and Jamie go way back. Way, way back to when you were both in your moms stomachs. Your parents and Jamie’s parents were like those friend groups you see on TV. You know, the ones where both couples meet at college and then become an inseparable friend group and then move to the same city together and then raise their kids together.

And from the day you were born (3 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days after Jamie as he always reminds you), the two of you were inseparable. If you were at the pool Jamie was probably too. If Jamie was playing tag at recess you probably were too.  If Jamie had a hockey tournament chances were you were going to be there, at every game. And then as you grew older, if you were at a party Jamie was probably too. People knew that if they were looking for one of the two of you, all they had to do is ask the other one. That was the kind of bond you shared with your best friend.

Until the string that ties you two together started fraying. And then the string snapped all together.

24th Street

Where you held me, grabbed my arm

What a mental fire alarm

'Cause a lot of that felt wrong

After high school, you moved to Anaheim with Jamie. You didn’t think anything of it. At that point in your life all you knew was that you and Jamie weren’t going to break up. You would follow wherever he goes. It’s funny how you can be so sure of something and then all of a sudden you just aren’t anymore. It starts to feel wrong.

You two bought a small apartment on 24th street and for the first year it felt perfect. It was small and cozy and all you two really needed but at some point during the second year everything changed. 

You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment you started realizing this wasn’t it for you. That Jamie wasn’t gonna work out. That this wasn’t your forever. It probably wasn’t even one singular moment. It was lots of little ones all together that came crashing down. 

What you can pinpoint is the moment you realized you had to go. That you would suffocate if you stayed in this relationship any longer.

You came home after a horrible day at University and Jamie was there waiting. Like always. He was perfect like that. He never did anything wrong and he could always pick up on the queues that you weren’t having a great day. That used to feel like everything you needed but not anymore. Now it just felt predictable and boring. It felt like there was no passion left. No fire burning between the both of you.

“Hi babe. Bad day?” Jamie asks, after you let out a long sigh dumping all your stuff on the ground.

You make a little noise of acknowledgement, not even having the energy to talk to Jamie and that’s the part where it starts creeping up on you. The fact you don’t even want to talk to the person who supposedly means the most to you. The person who should be the love of your life.

The moment it slams into you though is when he comes up to you and wraps you in his arms. It should be comforting after all these years but in reality it feels like you’re drowning. It triggers something in your brain. You’re overwhelmed with the need to escape. Since when did being in Jamie’s arms, the arms of your boyfriend but more than anything your best friend start to feel so wrong?

Like I miss you

But when I kissed you back, I lied

You don't know how hard I tried

Had to fake the longest time

 After that day you tried so hard to stay. You ignored that little voice telling you to get out and run as fast as you can. But you could only take so much. You had love for Jamie still. That much was true but you missed it when you felt so utterly consumed by him. When you constantly wanted to be around him. You missed that part of your relationship with him.

Every hug, every kiss, every word felt wrong. Felt fake. 

You always hugged him and kissed him back. You tried to salvage what was there with the two of you. You pretended to yourself that you thought you could fix it, that maybe if you faked long enough it would become real  but you always knew you couldn’t. You were lying to yourself. There had never been an ending that ended with Jamie. It wasn’t in the cards with you.

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

One January night you were laying in bed, unable to fall asleep. Next to you your boyfriend was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that anything was wrong. You toss and turn and avoid thinking about the fact that you shouldn’t be here and that Jamie deserves to know that you don’t love him like that anymore. He deserves the world, you just won’t be the one to give it to him.

Slowly you feel Jamie stirring on the other side of the bed. He gets up and looks over at you, groggily.

He yawns and says, “Hey babe, what are you doing up?”

You look into your boyfriend's pretty eyes and in that moment you know you can’t do it anymore. There isn’t anywhere for you two to go. What you have or had is over now and you need to end it.

Tears well in your eyes and you take a deep breath, knowing that in the next moment you were going to break the heart of the boy you used to love most.

“Jamie… I can’t do this anymore. It isn’t fair to you because you did nothing wrong but to stay wouldn’t be fair to me either. I have to leave. This doesn’t feel right anymore. There isn’t anywhere for this relationship to go that wouldn’t end in heartache. I love you, Jamie and I will forever but I have to do what is right for me.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything at first, just lets the tears fall. After a moment he says, “I could feel you pulling away but I wanted to ignore it but I guess I can’t anymore. I don’t wanna let you go. And I know that’s not fair but I love you. There won’t be anyone but you.”

“Yes there will be, Jamie. There will be someone because we weren't meant for each other. There is nowhere for us to go.”

I know I changed overnight

So I can't blame you for fightin'

And I'd be losin' my mind

If you lived in your writin’

The days that follow are hard. You have to keep living in the apartment until you find other living conditions and Jamie is convinced he can find a way to make work. He just can’t see that the best of your relationship was behind and that’s where you had to leave it. Nothing good would come from trying to salvage this.

“Why are you just giving up on us?” Jamie says one day out of the blue while you two eat summer in silence.

“I am giving up because after spending so long trying to stay, I have to give up for the both of us. And I know to you it seems like I just flipped a switch and overnight decided this wasn’t good anymore but I’ve been thinking about us for a while.” You pause, “Honestly, Jamie I’m surprised you're not the one frustrated with me because lately I've been so caught up in my school work I barely even have time to spend with you. Isn’t that driving you crazy?”

“No, it’s not because I just need your presence. That’s enough for me. And I understand why you’re so busy. It’s not like you’re purposely avoiding me.”

“The last few months though, I have been avoiding you.”

'Cause now I'm half of myself here without you

You're the best in my life and I lost you

And we had no control when it fell through

It was one-sided, hate how I hurt you

The next month is a blur. Between finding your own place and being busier than ever with school, you don’t have tons of time to think about Jamie but when you do there’s a sinking feeling in your gut. 

You don’t regret ending it but you miss the friendship, the special bond that had been between you two since you were kids. You haven’t been apart from him for this long ever and it feels like a part of you is missing. 

Jamie has always been the best in your life. The amazing boy that every girl wishes was theirs but he had always been fully yours. Until now when you set him free.

You wish you hadn’t had to hurt him. He didn’t deserve it but you didn’t deserve to be trapped either. He had no control over the situation. He couldn’t have prevented what happened. It was one sided and it sucks but it's the truth.

If I could, I'd have changed every feelin'

Reservations were up to the ceilin'

Guess the space was the thing that I needed

But I miss you

“Hey y/n. Uh it’s Jamie. Sorry to bother you by calling. I just need to know one thing. And then I can move on. I can pretend I don’t feel like I’m drowning. Did you wish it could’ve been different? If you could've, would you have changed your feelings?”

 After a shaky breath from Jamie, silence fills the air. You’ve listened to this voice message he sent you at least twenty times at this point. You have memorized it but can’t stop replaying it.

The simple answer is yes. Yes, you would’ve done anything in your power to still love Jamie but it doesn’t matter because you couldn’t. It isn’t how the world works.

You tell exactly that to Jamie over the phone the next day  and he says nothing. He listens and then hangs up, leaving you to hope he’ll be okay.

Being apart from him has shown you, you made the right decision but that doesn’t make it hurt less. You still miss him. He was, after all, your best friend since the beginning and you no longer have each other. That’s…a lot to take in.

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

In the last month Jamie has asked himself over and over and over again what he could’ve done to make you stay. He comes up empty every time because he did everything right. Just wasn’t enough he guesses.

He doesn’t know where to go anymore because before it was always to you. You were his light in the dark. He used to follow that brightness but now that light has run out of power and he’s left to stumble through the darkness alone.

He will be okay, he just has to figure where to go now. Which way it is to escape the black and reemerge in the light.

good riddance fic series

thanks for reading🫶requests are always open for fics, blurbs, ig edits and just thoughts!!

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[meatballlady]

The Hidden Prophecy Hypothesis

Here I am throwing an idea into the mix for s2 theorizing. Maybe it has been mentioned before, lmk if there are related metas out there already!

(disclaimer to not tag Neil!!! I don't want this to be shot down if it's a real possibility)

Here's my proposition:

At its core, the idea is that there is an information disparity between A/C and the audience, based on some source of knowledge that was not directly mentioned in S2 (i.e. hidden from the audience).

Between the events of S1 and S2, A/C came into contact with some sort of information about the future/H&H's strategy(ies)/etc. I'm calling this the hidden prophecy, but it could really be anything at all! A copy of Hell's plans from Shax, human prophecies, thorough reading of past assignments, etc.*

Immediate interpretation of the prophecy: In order for the apocalypse to happen, Aziraphale and Crowley need to kickstart it together.

Another main point of the prophecy: The trigger for the prophecy's events will be that someone (some angel?) will show up alone unexpectedly and ask them for help.

Also included are some vague details/triggers for the prophecy (which end up happening in S2 but aren't clear until after they happen)

Obviously A/C are not fans of this idea. They have an ongoing disagreement about the interpretation above, in fact.

Aziraphale believes there is a deeper interpretation of the prophecy if they research it enough. i.e. that they can work together without accidentally starting the apocalypse

Crowley believes they shouldn't fuck with it - that they should avoid each other entirely once the triggers start happening, to completely avoid any risk of accidentally kickstarting the apocalypse by working/being together.

* my partner believes this has to do with the second Agnes Nutter book. There are still many many ways to get a prophecy to someone even if the pages were burnt.

Cue season 2.

Open questions this could provide answers for:

Do the characters have more information than the audience and if so, why does it still look like they're flailing? They don't know "what's actually going on", they just have different expectations/starting points than the audience.

Why Crowley reacted very poorly to Gabriel showing up, and why he was so angry about leaving "so. this is how you want to do it." He thinks Aziraphale has ruined it already by asking for his help; also he doesn't want to stop talking to Aziraphale yet (he never will ofc)

Why Aziraphale got so pissy when Crowley said he wouldn't help with Gabriel "but if you won't, you won't." He thinks they can work together on the Gabriel thing, so obviously they don't need to avoid each other yet!

The weirdness about the apology dance: There was additional context to it, even though it was, ultimately, about the Jimbriel thing. Crowley was apologizing for being wrong about needing to not work together, not for not wanting to take care of Gabriel

Why they continue to look for clues outside of the Jimbriel question. They are looking for other prophecy triggers/apocalypse triggers.

Why Aziraphale acts with urgency around the ball. He is suspicious that Crowley was right and this is his last chance to host something for him.

Why the Metatron wanted Aziraphale (and possibly Crowley) back in Heaven

The final fifteen. They finally realize that Gabriel wasn't the trigger; the Metatron was. Aziraphale is still desperately insistent on working together, despite "realizing" Crowley may be right that they shouldn't. Crowley wants to work together but thinks they can't. They're both conflicted - about being right or not, about what the prophecy actually meant, and about how they will move forward. Maybe they both now agree that they shouldn't work together (which in s3 we will find out is actually incorrect), but they also both don't want to stop.

Loose ends from s1, such as the second prophecy book, the lack of mention of A/C addressing "the really big one" (i.e. because they already have and just don't bring it up)

Why "they aren't talking" now, per Neil - they think that it would move the apocalypse along to do so.

Why I like this idea (so far):

It doesn't retcon the final fifteen (only provides additional context)

(the additional angst potential for the final fifteen)

It is easy to explain to an audience

It is an "elegant" solution, i.e. doesn't ask more questions than it answers

Understanding of S2 would not be required to understand S3 - it just provides additional flavor to s2.

Open questions this doesn't seem to provide (direct/immediate, at least) answers for:

Maggie

The flashbacks

The 25 Lazarii miracle

The Halo

What Crowley was doing in Heaven

The discontinuities

[thus-spoke-lo]

Okok is this too much? Maybe. Law removing your womb while you sleep (Maybe anesthesia if you wanna be fun about it hehehe) just to return it before you wake up. When you do, you feel tired and swollen and your tummy now has a visible bump. Hypothetically, he could put ANYTHING in there. Think of the possibilities.

First of all, a vibrator or two? Would it feel good? Idk. Would it feel weird and humiliating? Absolutely. Or how about a bell that he can hear rattling inside everytime you move? You wouldn't be able to escape his sight without the sound alerting him to you.

Or he could fill it straight up with cum so you have a lil cum bulge when he puts it back. Or he could put in an expanding toy, and torture you from the inside out.

Or he could put egg like marbles inside and make you push them out. Law sanctioned birthing simulator. Idk why I think he'd be into it. He likes talking you through things. Calling you a good girl and telling you when you're allowed to push. So embarassing.

(btw friends I tried to tag the heck out of this but if i missed something lmk)

It's interesting, I have some definite squicks/triggers about things related to this BUT they are being so overidden by how fucking fascinated I am by the concept (which is how things tend to work for me lmao).

He could do anything with that, put whatever he felt like inside you and you have no way of knowing, just living in some sort of abject terror of what happened while you were under when you notice that bulge that won't quite go away, that way you feel a little fuller but you're unsure with what. And you plead with him to know what it is, and he just smiles and kisses your forehead and gaslights you a little, tells you it's nothing to worry about, don't get yourself all worked up--you're being so unreasonable, he'd never do anything to hurt you! Which is true--this isn't meant to hurt, it's meant to enhance.

Oh my god. THE FUCKING BELL. Like you're just a pet to him and he needs to know where you are at all times--there's no way to have any privacy or a moment's peace when there's something jingling away inside you every time you try to creep down the hall, and before long, long fingers are gripping your shoulders, a low voice asking where it is that you think you're going.