#I have to live to see a free world. I have to see it with my own two eyes. I have to see people free from fear. I don't know how to live wi
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omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox
what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭
Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask.
Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back.
“Hotch?”
“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately.
“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”
You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now.
“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.”
“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.”
He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required.
“I’ll get it for you,” he promises.
“Thank you, Aaron.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”
He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”
“I can’t eat.”
“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”
You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say.
“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.”
You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake.
You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved.
You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all.
Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?”
“I’m being quick!”
“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?”
“Yeah, dad.”
“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?”
“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”
“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?”
“Yes. Please. Hug?”
They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi baby. You hungry?”
“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.”
You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder.
“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur.
“Pretty please.”
“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.”
“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I won’t. Thank you, babe.”
Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?”
“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.”
You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture.
“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.
“I can go get dad.”
“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.”
Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin.
“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?”
“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.”
To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want.
Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?”
You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.”
“I’m fine. My hands are full.”
“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.”
He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”
“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!”
“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.”
Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Breathe (SMBU part 5)
4k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller x raider
Series summary: you’ve been kidnapped by raiders, Joel is their leader. Women who don’t “behave” are locked in a place you call “the shithouse”. You live in your own house, “freely”. You and your roommate, Vic, became girlfriends. Joel, Tommy and the guards have free use of the women in the camp, while respecting Joel's strict rules.
Chapt summary: Joel wants to make things clear, if you ever decide to oppose him again.
Him and Tommy use you for an "initiation"
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dead dove. Dark - noncon (captivity, threat) / dubcon
Gangbang, dvp, oral (f/m), spitting, spanking, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, size kink, piv, rimming, anal, creampies, angst
a/n: Heed the warnings. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. I don't condone any of this.
Thank you @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for beta-ing 💕🫶
The Prodigy - Breathe | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist
Main masterlist - Part 4
The next morning while you and Vic were still sleeping, Joel brushed your cheek to wake you up. He asked her to go to her bedroom then changed your bandage gently so as not to hurt you, asking if it was painful. He placed medicine and bandages on the dresser, and left saying he was letting you rest. You didn't see him or any guards for two days, until one of them came and told you to follow him. You tensed up when you approached the shithouse, but you didn’t ask why you were there. You knew it was pointless, the explanations would come in due time, probably from Joel, not from a guard. You approached one of the bedrooms and you heard grunts and moans. Your discomfort grew.
“Stay here,” he told you, after letting you into the room. The smell was terrible. Still made of cum and piss. You tried to look away as she tried to catch your gaze, silently begging for your help. You wanted to cry knowing there was nothing you could do for her. Nausea seized you. Three guards took turns between her thighs. Tears ran down her cheeks but there was nothing human in these men’s eyes or words. They were taking, taking, taking. Raping. Feeding on her fear as much as her body. The mattress was even dirtier than the first time Joel had brought you there, the day you had to choose your fate.
When all three had come inside her, they passed by you, staring at you from head to toe and you placed your hands in front of your chest as an illusory protection. Once gone, you moved closer to her after grabbing a dirty blanket from the corner of the room to cover her.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m sorry.” She was crying and was ashamed, as if it was her fault. You hated them. The door opened and Joel entered.
“Having a good day, Julie?”, he asked.
You hated him now, and he saw it when your eyes met. He grabbed your elbow and led you out of the room.
“You’re gonna get her killed.” You were so shocked that you were shaking, barely managing to keep your composure. You hoped not to show him but your guts knew better than your mind. This man felt the slightest emotions that emanated from a person, and he used them. Whether to make them feel bad or good, depending on what he wanted. He was way too good at this, and it was probably why he was still alive, running raiders camp in the lost world.
“Getting fucked ain’t gonna kill her.”
“Come on, Joel! She is poorly nourished, probably has lots of deficiencies and perhaps an infection. Not to mention a psychological damage. Have you really lost all humanity?”
You were trying not to cry. You imagined far too easily how you could have been in her place.
“You know I don’t. You're still there”, pointing with his chin at the house where you lived. “In your pretty bedroom. With your pretty girlfriend.”
The way he said it made you shiver. You showed him your bandaged hand, to make him think about you, rather than her.
“What’s your point? You think those guys, the one that railed her, wouldn’t have done worse?”
“What do you want me to say? That you're less of an asshole than them? Still an asshole to me.”
You wondered if you were going too far but you were too upset by what you had just witnessed. “Why did you show me this? Those guys? You’re gonna threaten to send me there again?”
“No. No I won’t. We both know it wouldn’t work.” You looked at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. He spoke first.
“You think you have leverage on me, that I love your pussy too much to throw you to these men. And maybe it’s true. But now I have leverage on you too. I know how much you care about her. So if you piss me off again she’s gonna be thrown here and fucked an entire day by these guys. To teach YOU a lesson. She doesn't need one, she knows her place.”
"You disgust me."
“Oh, baby. You hate me now, but you love my cock as much as I love your cunt. You may have forgotten it for now, but you’ll remember it when you’ll moan, bouncing on it. Go back to your house now, lesson’s over.”
You insulted him in every possible way in your head, while he looked at you with his arrogant smirk. Fully aware of what was on your mind. Your heart sank thinking about Vic, and you went straight to your room, hoping that sleep would make you forget everything else.
Footsteps woke you up in the middle of the night, just before a guard entered your room and asked you to follow him. It was unusual. When one of them wanted to fuck you at night, he would do it in your bedroom and then leave. As if they wanted to leave their scent in your bed. You were even more surprised when you saw that he wasn't taking you to the fuckhouse. Or the shithouse. For a moment you couldn’t help but be afraid that Joel would “teach you” another lesson there.
The guard led you to a house you had never been in and knocked on the door. You heard Joel shoot “come in”. The man closed the door behind you, and Joel told you to go upstairs. He was lying on a bed, in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Is it…?” you started to ask.
“My bedroom, yeah.”
You looked around. The furniture, the way the room was organized. Everything was clean and tidy. You looked at the window, illuminated by a nearby lamp. Pink, blue and purple paper butterflies were hanging there, moving with the breeze that brushed against them. Everything was minimalistic in his room, and this childish touch of color stood out from everything else. You turned to him with a confused expression and he took a moment before responding.
“A reminder of my daughter.” A veil formed over his eyes. Your heart sank when you heard this confession. With those words, you suddenly realized two things. He had experienced a loss that broke his heart, and you had a special place for him. A part of you had already known it, but now you couldn’t deny it anymore. And somehow, it complicated things for you. From the beginning, you wanted to hate him. But your heart wavered because of Joel's behavior. You knew you were suffering Stockholm syndrome, you knew that your instincts were doing what they could to help you survive, at almost any price. But it wasn't just that.
And now, you didn't know why or how, but this special place you had, was there. Even if he was capable of acting like an asshole, to fuck you with three other guys or to throw you out to all his men. Or to cut your fucking pinky. But he decided to tell you that and your heart was racing. His constant hot and cold behavior was driving you crazy.
“How’s your finger?”
“Great, for a cut off one.”
It made him smile. You, not so much.
He stood up and came up to you, and surprised you again when he asked if he could hold you. You considered saying no to him, but that wasn’t what you wanted. Even if you hated yourself for it. So you nodded and he took you in his arms, and for a few minutes your body relaxed, enjoying the security he was offering you. Your body was lost in his arms, and you loved that feeling, that strength all around you. And not directed against you, for once. He took your chin between his fingers and lifted it towards him. His brown eyes, which sometimes turned black. But not there. And he kissed you. He’d done it before, while he was fucking you, but never like this. His lips were soft and warm. His hands slid down your body, brushing against your breasts, and you shivered. He removed your top and slid his hand between your breasts, rubbing their curvature. Then your pants, getting on his knees to remove them from your feet. Your panties, while he was still kneeling in front of you. He looked at your pussy and brushed your folds with his thumb.
“Lie down on the bed,” he said.
“Can you…” you stopped, not daring to go further in your request.
“Can I what?”
“Take off your clothes? I’d like you to be naked, like me.”
“Ok, baby,” he replied.
“Can I do it?”
He nodded, and let you take off his t-shirt, pants and boxers. He was barefoot.
“Thank you”, you breathed out, before going to lie down. He knelt at the foot of the bed, sliding you over to him. He was calm. Different from the other times when he had fucked you alone. As if he was less harsh. As if he was human, at least a part of him. The emotions were so strange in that new world. And even more so when you were in captivity. Used.
When he placed his lips on your pussy, you forgot the rest. His tongue brushed against your folds up to your clit, before his lips gripped it, sucked on it, kissed it.
“Open up for me,” he said.
You folded your legs further, resting them against the bed. He spread your folds with his hands and spat on your clit then on your folds, before sliding his thumb on your delicate skin. “Joel…” you whispered. He didn’t respond, preferring to slide his tongue into your pussy, groaning between your thighs. Fucking you with it and collecting all your wetness. Digging as far as possible. His thumb twirling over your clit. Sometimes he would let his saliva flow onto your clit again. The feeling of it flowing over you, before he spread it with his thumb, electrified you.
“Good girl,” he said, just before he moved his tongue up to your clit and buried two of his fingers in your pussy. His other hand was on your stomach, caressing your skin. As if he wanted to feel your stomach moving up and down, following the pace of his fingers or tongue. You felt your orgasm building. He spat one last time, knowing the effect it had on you. You came on his fingers, your pussy clenching on them. You heard him moan, tongue resting on your clit. Feeling its jolts.
Then he crawled over to you, a firm hand around his hard, thick cock. He nestled it at your entrance and pushed in without waiting. Eyes staring into yours, until you had to close yours, trying to get used to his size. He was spreading your folds with his cock, without forcing but without slowing down either. Until he bottomed out.
“I love to fuck you, you’re right”, he confessed in your ear. “Best pussy I’ve ever fucked, maybe. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good.” You whined against his neck.
“Told you, baby. You love my cock as much as I love your cunt.” You didn't want to think about it. You were there because they had captured you, because you were forced to let him, them, fuck you. As if he knew what you were thinking, he added, "yeah, since the beginning, you're getting off on being fucked by raiders."
There he was again, that Joel you hated. Your whole body contracted as you tried to push him off of you but he tightened his grip, continuing to fuck you slowly, growling in your neck.
And you hated it but you couldn't deny the heat that rose in your core, his cock rubbing against your g spot, and his lower stomach against your clit.
“Yeah, baby, just like that. You’re gonna come on my cock.”
“Yeah…I…fuck, Joel…”
“Come on, baby, I missed your cunt these last days. I missed stuffing you full of my cock.”
He wrapped his arms under your shoulders and pulled you close.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you feel.”
“I…I feel it coming. Growing in me. It’s so good, so warm. Why do you…Oh god…I’m gonna…Joel, Joel…”
“Why do I what?”
“Shit…why do you make me feel so good…”
He growled, and added “come on, baby, squeeze my dick. Come on it, then I’ll fill you up.”
You put your legs on his lower back, allowing him to fill you deeply, completely, as he was thrusting in just as slowly.
“Yeah, fuck, yeah…just like that baby.”
You dug your nails into his flesh as the wave hit you. He kept his body against yours, his cock buried deep inside you without moving, just to feel the jerks of your pussy on his cock. Until he came too, just by being clenched by your folds, and shot his cum deep inside you. He lay on top of you for a few minutes, then he withdrew. He told you the guard was going to take you to your house. You picked up your clothes, put them back on and left. On your way back home, you tried to stop your tears from falling. As if your heart expected that he would treat you differently, less harshly, after that moment. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. What you were thinking, how you could be so naive. He was just a raider.
The days passed. The multiple fucks too.
With time you learned to keep yourself busy. Learned to sew, knit. Tinkering, refinishing furniture. The men brought back various things from their raids. Women were not allowed to leave the camp of course, to avoid the risk of them escaping. At first, time passed agonizingly slowly and you were bored, but refused to participate in activities with other people. To meet other people, chat with them. As if that would mean you were giving in. And then you broke down and took some seeds available in the warehouse. You planted them in the vegetable garden. It was the first activity you got involved in.
Loads of books were available and you had discovered many authors. The days were passing faster now. Sometimes you couldn't help but wonder what you would do if you could leave this camp. If you could survive, and how. If you would come across worse than the men there.
One day you noticed a new soldier. Young, early 20s. And your heart sank thinking of those young people who had only known that violent world. What would their life be like, in another universe? He wouldn’t become a raider, who learnt that women were only a resource. You hated this world so much.
Several times you felt his gaze on you. A look still pure, despite everything.
“You like her?” Joel asked him.
“Well…she’s pretty.”
“Yeah, she is. Wanna fuck her? You had the talk with Tommy, right?”
“Yeah, but…I don’t know, I’ve never done that.”
“What, you’re a virgin?”
“No. But…I’ve never fucked a woman who didn’t want it.”
“Yeah well, it’s not a problem here, kiddo.”
You knew they were talking about you even if you couldn’t hear them. Joel wasn’t exactly discreet.
When a guard came for you that night and brought you to the fuck house, you knew what was going to happen. Joel, Tommy, and the young guard were already there, waiting for you.
“Hey sweetheart, always a pleasure to see you”, Tommy said, grabbing your ass and kissing you, as he always did. “This kid here has some things to learn about the camp. You’re gonna be a good girl and help him with that, ok?” As if you had the choice. You shrugged.
“But well, once he tastes this pussy, the others will seem bland to him.”
“Don’t be rude, Tommy. We have other good pussies to fuck. Her roommate, for example.”
They both sneered. “Assholes”, you thought. Tommy laughed, seeing your face. “Ok, sweetheart, let him taste your mouth.”
You knelt in front of the guard, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He smelled good. He was semi-hard, looking down at you. Embarrassed. As if you were in a position of strength against him. You wondered how long it would take before it would change.
You took his cock in your hand and let your saliva run down his tip. Spread it with your thumb, then jerked it gently.
“I wonder how long it’ll take him to paint her face,” Tommy chuckled.
“No, no no. Not too fast, kiddo. We like to fuck them when they’re full of cum. Stuff her at least long enough to cum inside.”
You saw him blush. At least women weren't the only victims of their degradation, and somehow that made you happy. You moved closer to him and licked his tip gently, tasting his precum. He jumped and you smiled, before taking him in your mouth, continuing to jerk him gently. His cock was an average size, and you didn't need to get used to its thickness between your lips. You moved down his shaft, keeping your fist clenched at the base of his cock. Picking up the pace slightly, you began to suck him at a steady pace. His precum flowed down your throat, and you heard him moan.
“How does that feel, kiddo?”, asked Joel.
“Good, fucking good”, he answered. “And you…really fuck her, all of them, when you want?”
“Yeah. Day, night. You can fuck them alone, or with other guards. As you wish. But you do it the way I say. You make them cum, you don't hit them. You can slap them a little, we all like it when our cock is buried in their pussy, but not more than that. You have the ones from the shithouse if you need to let off some steam.” You stiffened when you heard him speak like that.
“Fuck…ok, ok.”
Your saliva ran down his shaft and you licked it.
“Oh fuck…ma’am…” Tommy and Joel snickered, hearing him.
“He’s cute”, added Tommy. The guard didn't even hear him.
“Wait, or I’m gonna come, they said I couldn’t do that uh…in your mouth.”
“Come lie down on the bed, baby. He's gonna fuck you. How do you want it, man?”
“All fours? Is that ok?” he asked, looking at you.
He was sweet and cute, and despite the incongruous situation you wanted to counterbalance the attitude of the two brothers.
“Of course”, you answered. You settled onto your hands and knees, waiting for him to come behind you. He knelt down and hesitated.
“But uh…what if I can’t make her come?”
The brothers laughed. You couldn’t imagine how he must feel, having to fuck you in front of both of them, as if it was something normal, while they didn’t even hold back their laughs. He was still so pure.
“It’s ok, kiddo,” Joel replied. “You’re young, you gotta learn. We’ll make her come, don’t worry.”
“Are you two gonna...make love to her, after me?”
“Oh yeah…my brother and I, we’re gonna make love to her. Don’t worry ‘bout that.”
The guard moved closer to you, placing his hands on your hips before grabbing his cock and sliding down to your entrance.
“Oh, fuck”, he said, when your pussy clenched against his shaft.
“Yeah, she’s tight. We still don’t know how she manages to take both of our cocks at the same time, in that tight pussy”, said Tommy.
“Two? Are you both fucking her at the same time? In the same hole?”
“In the same hole, yeah. Or one in her cunt and the other in her ass. Depending on what we want.”
“Oh, man…”
He started to fuck you. He was clearly not experienced, his movements were clumsy. But he wasn't abrupt, wasn’t hurting you. He spread your ass cheeks slightly, probably looking at your ring.
“Ever fucked an ass before?”
“Oh, fuck…I’m gonna…shit. Oh damn it was close. No, never.”
“You’re gonna love it. Even tighter than her pussy. Much tighter. The first few times you'll probably cum just from digging your tip into that hole.”
You heard him moan, and he came in your pussy, grunting, clinging to your hips.
“Ok kiddo, not so bad, but you gotta practice. Ever ate a pussy?”
“Yeah, well…a couple times.”
“You gotta learn to make them come that way. And when you’re really good at it, you'll make them cum by rubbing their clit while you’re fucking them. And then, just with your cock. Right, baby? She loves that.”
You blushed with this allusion to the night at his house, and the guard pulled out.
“Ok kiddo. Lesson number 2. You’re gonna watch us fuck her.”
“Come sit on my cock, baby. Hurry up, don't waste his cum, wanna fuck you through it”, Joel told you, spanking your ass. He sat against the headboard and you straddled him. His gaze was unfathomable, but it wasn't the same man who had fucked you missionary in his bedroom. He was good at compartmentalizing, much better than you. You grabbed his cock and impaled yourself on it gently. “Fuck”, you mumbled. He was thick, much thicker than the guard, and you needed to lower yourself onto it slowly.
“You missed my cock, baby?” he asked you with a smirk.
You dug your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, as you gradually sank onto his shaft.
He smiled and grabbed your shoulder, and added “I missed your cunt too. God, I love to fuck you when you’re full of cum.”
The guard’s cum helped you get used to his cock. Joel grabbed your ass with his hands and started bouncing you on his cock. You bit your lip. Tommy was sat in a chair by the bed, his dick in his hand, and said “you look so fuckin’ pretty bouncing on my brother’s cock, baby.”
He came closer, jerking off, and said “suck my dick, baby. Make it wet, we’re gonna need it.”
You wondered how he was going to fuck you, but whether it was in your pussy too or in your ass, you knew you had to make it easier for you. He slipped his cock into your mouth without waiting.
“Shit, yeah, you’re hot baby, suckin’ my brother’s cock.”
He had slowed down the pace to allow you to suck Tommy properly.
“Look at that Joel, the kiddo is already hard again.”
“Nice. You’re gonna have another lesson today. Sharing a cunt with another cock. I hope you’re not one of those who doesn’t want two cocks touching?”
“No…no I don’t mind.”
“Good.”
Tommy kept thrusting into your mouth, while Joel's hand on the back of your head accompanied your movements until he shifted it to stroke your clit with his thumb. His cock was rubbing your core, filling you perfectly, as his finger was swirling your clit. Every time they both fucked you, you always forgot at one point or another the situation you were in. Only focusing on your sensations, and theirs.
“Look at that, kiddo. She’s gonna come soon. She loves taking our cocks so much, like a good little whore. Right, baby?”
You nodded, your mouth around Tommy's shaft.
“Yeah she’s so good at this. Prettiest mouth and prettiest cunt. Taking us so well”, Tommy added.
Your pussy contracted more and more on Joel's shaft, as his thumb gave you what you needed, until you came all over his cock.
“There we go…you’re doing great, baby.”
Tommy pulled out of your mouth, holding your cheek with his hand while you came down from your orgasm. Joel pulled you towards him, leaning forward to offer you to Tommy, who was already kneeling behind you.
“Ok, baby. One more dick”, he said.
“Yeah, that's what you want, baby, right?”
You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. You were used to both of them taking you by now. Used to the feeling of your pussy spreading on both of their cocks. Even if it still stretched painfully, as the second one thrust in. And somehow, taking them both, that abandonment, strangely made you forget your life in the camp.
You felt Tommy’s hand on your hip, and the head of his cock pressing against the dick already inside you. Using it to slide his member in.
“Oh fuck, men…that’s so hot,” said the guard who had moved closer to watch.
“Relax, baby…let me in. Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”
Tommy's praise had always helped you to relax, to turn you on. Today, like any other day. He usually did it in a lighter way than Joel, perhaps less degrading.
“Breathe, sweetheart.”
You did as he said, breathing slowly until his tip slid into your pussy, spreading you completely. You whined into Joel’s neck.
“That’s a good girl”, he praised you.
“Look at you takin’ these cocks baby”, added Tommy as he continued to thrust in. “Yeah, just like that. One more dick in that cunt.”
They slid into you slowly, then gradually increased the pace. You heard them growl. Joel against your ear, Tommy on the back of your head.
“Gonna take my place after I fill her, man?” Tommy asked the guard.
“Yeah…fuck…Sure.”
“We’re stretching her good, damn…”
Tommy grunted and you felt his hot cum fill you, then some of it leaked out of your pussy.
“Thank you baby, another great fuck”, he said, kissing your shoulder.
You whimpered when he pulled out. Joel remained still and the guard knelt behind you again.
“Take it easy, don’t hurt her. Lean against my cock and slide gently.”
“Ok, sir”, he replied.
He rested his cock against Joel's, covered in Tommy's cum, and thrusted his tip in.
“Oh, fuck, she’s so tight.”
“Yeah, she is. That's good, uh? Come on kiddo, slide in. Slowly.”
The guard placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, holding on for leverage. And they started to fuck you. Sometimes sliding together, sometimes alternating rhythms.
“You’re ok, baby? You’re taking our cocks so good, fuck…”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m ok.”
“You’re such a slut, baby…Always ready for more” you heard Tommy say.
“I’m…I’m gonna cum”, the guard whined.
“Come on, kiddo, fill her up. Then I’ll fuck her like she needs to get fucked”, Joel said as he looked at you, grabbing your cheeks in his hands and keeping you facing him.
You heard the guard grunt then freeze, adding his cum to Tommy's.
“Ah fuuuuuck, that’s hot, baby. You never disappoint”, Joel said.
The guard pulled out, and so did Joel, as he told you to stand on all fours while he knelt behind you.
“Yeah, I finally got this pretty pussy all to myself. I'm gonna fuck you rough baby. I know you want it. Hope I'll feel something. We really ruined you, uh?”
He slid into your pussy without waiting, hands clinging to your shoulders. Fucking you hard, without respite. Then he spat on your ass, rubbing your ring with his thumb, his other hand on your waist.
“Gonna fuck that ass. Pussy’s too ruined.”
“Wait, Joel!”
“Calm down, ain’t gonna hurt you.”
He pulled away, licking your ring and spitting on it as he jerked off. Then he positioned his cock covered by your wetness and the other men cum at your entrance.
“See, kiddo…that ass” - he thrust his tip in - “is so good” - pulled back - “that I can never stay too long” - he thrust in totally - “without fucking it. Oh fuck!!”
You laid your head on the pillow, moaning and fisting the pillow, as his hands were buried in the flesh of your hips, fucking your ass hard and deep. You heard him growl more and more.
“Look at that kiddo, she’s taking it so good”, Tommy praised you.
Joel thrust in a few more times, hands frozen on your hips, then he stopped, flooding your ass with his cum. He stayed there while he caught his breath, then withdrew.
“Kiddo, go pick up her girlfriend in 30 minutes.”
Then he looked at you and added “we have to keep teaching him how to fuck”, smirking.
You went back home.
When Vic finally came home that night, you were waiting for her to go to bed. But the guard didn't leave, and told you to follow him, from the front door.
“Jesus Christ…how many times does he need to fuck today?” you mumbled, looking at her.
He didn’t accompany you to the fuckhouse, but to Joel's house, once again. You went upstairs and heard the shower running. You sat on Joel’s bed waiting for him to finish. When he came out a few minutes later, in boxers and a towel around his neck, his hair was still wet and drops of water were beading on his curls. He was magnificent, from head to toe. You looked at his body as he walked towards you. Several scars covered his torso.
“You’re staring, baby”, he said with a smile.
“Yeah, well…not only men can do that.”
He smiled even more when he heard you. He brushed past you without touching you, and went to bed. “You’re gonna sleep with me tonight.”
“What…I…didn’t bring any sleeping clothes.”
“You won’t need them.”
*************
Thank you for reading 🙏
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#tlou#pedro pascal#joel miller x#joel miller x you#tlou fanfiction#joel x you#tw non con#tw dead dove#dark!joel#dark!joel miller
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Okay yeah I think I need to talk about that last Luz-Eda interaction, because it lives in my head rent free.
I feel like some people might consider that a Mama Eda moment, and I think that isn't really the case. It's not about Eda having a parental moment, because she has no idea Luz drew the picture.
Rather, for the whole episode, we see that Luz has repeatedly been told that she is lesser, a loser, weird, not good enough, living in a fantasy world, etc. And it's clear she has internalized this and felt the full brunt of RSD when Amity trashed her art. So obviously she's on edge when she sees that Eda is looking at it and fully preparing for another session of being talked down to.
Instead, we get an honest statement of appreciation of her work, and a rebuke of anyone who would discard it. By referring to it as "beautiful," Eda isn't just complimenting Luz's handiwork. Here, quite possibly for the first time from a non-family member, she's hearing someone genuinely admiring her expressing herself. That what she has to share with the world has value. That she has value.
Small wonder she becomes a sobbing clingy mess.
Fuck, I wish we got that in the final show, this fucking slaps.
#the owl house#luz noceda#eda clawthorne#the owl house pilot#toh analysis#i am so fucking back and it feels good
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Simon Ghost Riley x Female Civilian Reader
The feeling of falling in love.
He sees hundreds of people throughout his Military career. Murders, drug addicts, sex workers, terrorists, children, women, men, monsters, angels, and the spiral of personality types in the streets of foreign countries. Maybe the job would be more desirable with the perks of traveling the world if it was less dangerous.
So why of all places did he have to fall for someone? Your face in the crowd of many watching the sky light up with colorful firey explosions raining through the stars.
He catches a glimpse of your delicate smile, or maybe not so delicate at the time as you marvel at humanity’s show.
He stares.. longingly, drowning out the noise of cheers and screams. You glance at him too. At least that’s what he wished happened until time began to speed up to reality.
“Simon!”
Price grips his shoulder, breaking him out of his day dreams.
“The object is in AO, stay alert”
“Understood” Simon nodded, trying to focus up.
But how? He looks back, but you were gone.
Deep inside he hoped you stayed gone, but he couldn’t help but look for your face again. Unfortunately and fortunately you disappeared, becoming a ghost in the crowd he'd wish to forget
So why in all places were you here? In his arms?
As he franticly ran through the battlefield, your limp body was tight against his straining chest. Simon was never a man to rely on any higher being, but for the first time in what seemed like decades, he begged.. no prayed for you. A random stranger he merely glimpsed at, a woman with no name or title to him, capturing more than a poor man's heart.
And so the tale as old as time went, a man stricken with Cupid's arrow unable to let go of a woman who lived another side of life. His world is so far from the pleasant life you lived. You cherished your experiences, the people, and the memories as he cherished you.
You slowly healed from the wounds afflicted, your home destroyed and your memory scattered. With nowhere to go, Simon offered you a place, a home closer to his reach.
Small graces and brisk touches filled his head, he was smitten with love, confused, and awkwardly frustrated due to his inability to confront you. And you? Well, you weren't stupid but you were oblivious. The man sheltering you, doting on you, was quite the catch, you couldn't help but feel the same way. But there was no way you'd know the ironic truth.
"I got it Luv"
"Oh no! Its okay I-"
"Hands off, don't be stuffy"
"Nu uh!"
He grabs your hands in his, swallowing your whole mitts in his.
"Dove"
He whispers in your ear, his hard muscles leaning against the small of your back. Your face burns with a red tint, gosh he was so close, you could feel his sigh. You comply and slowly release your grip on the bags, letting him carry all of them in a single hand.
He hums, using his free hand to cup yours, holding it up to his lips before gently kissing the soft skin.
"Thank you. Angel."
He walks to the kitchen, leaving you utterly in shambles wondering if he was flirting or he was being a gentleman as he is a very respectful British.
While Simon had his heart racing hoping maybe that was a step in the right direction, or many steps in the right direction.
Because in his mind he's an awkward flirt, while to everyone else (you especially). DAM BRO GOT U SWEATING *FANS SELF*
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#cod#ghost cod#call of duty
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the genocide in gaza has been going on for 6 months and there is rarely a day i don't think about it or post anything on any of my social media accounts.
i can't not post about gaza and bring awareness.
and i can't believe that none of my friends have shared anything, and i'm upset with how little my siblings and mother have.
i've known about isntreal's violent treatment towards palestinians for years. and even back then i was shocked people didn't give a shit or know about it, which wasn't their fault. western media is bullshit propaganda that purposely does not educate... so i was like "ok i can see how you wouldnt know about this."
but now day after day, we are witnessing this ethnic cleansing, while palestininas are living it and for people to say they "don't know much" about it, or they aren't educated enough or blah blah.
you have 0 excuses. people are protesting all over the world, palestinians are sharing what is going on all over social media. students are setting up encampments, people have blocked ships, disrupted political events, set themselves on fire..
you had 0 excuses at the beginning of this and you have even less excuses now at month 6
i am so sick of people being willfully ignorant and playing dumb, just admit you didn't care at the start of this, and you don't care now. your apathy is disgusting. your indifference is vile.
free palestine.
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Fuck A Title (Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem Reader) (1/5)
SYNOPSIS: Lewis and his former FWB try to navigate the murky waters of being official.
PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem reader
WARNINGS: cursing, sexual content, angst, racing vroom vroom stuff. RATED R (minors DNI/18+)
SONG REFERENCE: "Title" by Kiana Lede
TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @omgsuperstarg @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @xoscar03 @blveeeeee @everywherea11thetime @blckgrl-sunflower @whoreforjjk @blowmymbackout
A/N: Not back fr, but had this in my drafts for a minute, so..... [Please comment & reblog]
You sucked in a sharp breath as Lewis pulled you flush against his rock-hard body, his intoxicating male musk enveloping her. "Damn, Lew..." you husked out as his full lips trailed searing kisses along your neck.
Lewis rumbled a low chuckle against you skin, the gravelly timbre shooting tingles along her spine. "You know you want to stay." His mouth found yours, kissing you with a slow, hungry intensity.
"I can’t," you mutter as you arched shamelessly against the solid wall of muscle, whimpering into the heated kiss. These intimate nights used to be your steamy little secret - just two badass workaholics blowing off steam as commitment-free FWBs whenever you craved each other's bodies.
"I'll have your breakfast waiting in the morning, baby girl," Lewis purred in that panty-melting accent, charming and rugged all at once. "Let me take care of you like you deserve."
Your thoughts went to last season; it was stress-free, almost reminiscent of an endless vacation with you being flown out to see Lewis at some of his races — Monaco, Japan, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi, to name a few. There was also that two-week getaway to Turkey during summer break with his close guy friends.
But nothing could ever prepare you for how quickly things changed between you and Lewis. Just a few weeks ago, he wanted to make things official.
You blame that Brazilian girl. Jackie, Josie, Julia-something-or-the-other. Lewis's other sidepiece. The one who didn't know how to be discreet.
She's been kicking it with Lewis and his inner circle since 2019, and their off-and-on cycle can put anyone's head in a tailspin.
But, it wasn't your problem to deal with.
As messed up and unusual as it may sound, you knew what you had with Lewis. The conversations were always on par, the sex was bomb, and his friends were nice.
It wasn't until JuJu leaked his whereabouts to a tabloid journalist during his winter getaway to Brazil that Lewis finally put the nail in the coffin for whatever situation they had, and in return, it was you whom he had invited to join him in Paris, testing in Bahrain, and even a race in Saudi Arabia. It was you who he eventually grew close with, closer than what you envisioned, causing him to have an epiphany or midlife crisis moment, but he wanted you for some reason.
You and only you.
Against your shot-caller instincts, you had agreed to try monogamy with your long-time friends-with-benefits partner, yet could you really live up to the ride-or-die girlfriend role?
In the racing world, Lewis was F1 royalty - the kind of megastar talent that sparked a panty parade from groupies with each arrival. At thirty-nine years old, the British race monster had already stacked up multiple championship wins, the insane looks of a cologne model, and a net worth balling enough to buy a private island.
Cradled against his frame, you almost forgot your doubts about your newly-minted relationship status.
Almost.
Lewis was a whole meal with his tattooed body: wide shoulders, chiseled chest and biceps, and a tempting vee that disappeared beneath his form-fitting Tommy Hilfiger briefs. It almost felt criminal for one man to be so incredibly attractive.
"You're doing it again," that baritone washed over you as Lewis smirked knowingly. "Getting thirsty for me. This is why you need to stay." He flexed his pecs in a ludicrous muscle-man pose, making you throw back your head and laugh.
"Bye, Lewis," you shot back, eyes sparkling with mirth as you ran an admiring hand along his sculpted torso. "My mind was on work."
The lie was smooth, but he knew better.
"You think about work more than I do," Lewis chuckled richly, catching your roaming hand to tug you close once more. His skin glowed temptingly in the dim light, and you felt your resistance swiftly melting as his lips crashed into yours again. He tasted like your ultimate indulgence. But soon, much too soon, Lewis drew back with obvious reluctance. "Best not keep tempting me, baby girl. Let me walk you to your car like a good boyfriend."
And there it was - that word reminding you of your new reality. Boyfriend.
Swallowing hard, you began gathering your scattered clothes. "I should really go," she said, aiming for a breezy tone that fell flat even to your own ears. "But raincheck on the morning cuddles and all that, yeah? I've got an early call time."
Lewis watched you with that panty-dropping stare, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Will you call me when you get to work at least?"
"Of course," you replied, sliding into your dress and avoiding his intense gaze. "I'll see you later," you said with a forced smile before turning and making your way out of the bedroom.
Like a dog to a bone, Lewis followed closely behind in nothing but his briefs and that all-too-obvious aroused bulge that he proudly sported. Bending over to put on your heels, you flinched slightly at the unexpected touch from behind.
His hands flattened against your spine, trailing downwards until it reached your hips before settling on your ass.
With a sharp intake of breath, you turned around to face him, eyes wide with shock and arousal as his fingers squeezed the plump flesh of your backside. "You can’t just grab me like that," you protested weakly, even as your body leaned into his touch.
A devilish grin crossed Lewis’ face. "But you like it," he murmured huskily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"
"Nope."
Lewis pouted playfully, his hands still lingering on your hips as he leaned in for one last kiss. "Fine," he sighed dramatically, before pressing his lips to your forehead and releasing you with a parting slap on your ass. "I'll see you later, then."
You grinned up at him as you straightened your dress and made your way towards the front door. "Bye, Lewis," you called over your shoulder.
As soon as you stepped outside into the cool London air, reality hit hard. Your mind was a cyclone of emotions.
Why were you still craving the easy detachment of your previous arrangement? Surely you were just going through an adjustment period of cold feet. A big part of you felt skittish about going from independent and free to somebody's boo'd up ball-and-chain, especially with someone who equally enjoyed working as you did. Though you weren’t on Lewis' level of fame, you still had clout as a fashion stylist and worked with prominent magazines, such as Vogue and Vanity Fair. You faced plenty of trials and trepidations in your life, yet navigating this new realm of commitment would be your ultimate challenge.
The drive to your hotel was quiet, with your mind filled with thoughts of Lewis and the budding relationship between the two of you. Shaking off those thoughts for now, you focused on reaching the hotel safely and getting some rest before another long day on set tomorrow.
The next morning came far too soon for your liking. Despite having only slept for a few hours due to work calls and texts from Lewis throughout the night (something he did often but never seemed to tire), you dragged yourself out of bed when your alarm blared loudly.
After a quick shower and a strong cup of coffee, you were dressed and ready to head to the set for another long day of styling. As you arrived at the location, you were greeted by familiar faces - the models, photographers, and other crew members whom you had worked with countless times before in the last couple of months. You were currently on a six-month contract for Schön! and even though there was some shoots that required long work days, you appreciated the flexibility of the work.
Everyone was scurrying around, setting up equipment and making last minute adjustments before the shoot began. You made your way over to the fashion rack where designer clothing was carefully organized and ready to be styled on the models.
"Morning, Y/N!" A voice called out from across the room.
You turned to see one of your bosses, Tara, walking towards you with a smile on her face.
"Hey, Tara," you replied. "How's it going?"
"It's going good," she said, glancing around at the busy set. "Looks like another long day ahead of us."
You both chuckled, knowing that long days were just part of the job.
"So, what are we working with today?" Tara asked curiously as she looked over at the fashion rack.
"A mix of high-end brands and some vintage pieces," you replied, pulling out a beautiful Dior dress from its garment bag. "I'm excited to see how this looks on one of our models."
Tara nodded in agreement before getting pulled away by one of the photographers who needed her assistance. You went back to organizing and styling the clothes for each look on your mood board.
As the day went on, you couldn't help but feel a little distracted by the constant buzzing of your phone. Every few minutes, another text from Lewis would come through, each one more persistent than the last.
"Come with me to Australia," one read. "I'll book your flights."
"Wasn't it your fantasy to be bent over the railing of a hotel overlooking Hobsons Bay?" another said.
You sighed as you set your phone down on the table next to you, trying to focus on the task at hand. The shoot was going smoothly but with every text from Lewis, it became harder and harder to concentrate.
One thing was for sure: this nigga was extremely persistent.
You couldn't deny that a trip to Australia sounded tempting - it had been on your bucket list for years now. But at the same time, it wasn't practical for you to just drop everything and go away for an undetermined amount of time.
Or could you? an intrusive thought bubbled in your head. The hoe side of yourself was speaking, coming out from the depths of her hoeness cave. It often appeared whenever Lewis was involved, and let's be honest, it was probably the reason why you found yourself in this weird ass situation in the first place.
Think about that tongue of his, girl! ‘Member how he had you walking funny for three days straight after finishing in eighth place?!
You couldn't forget it, as it would always be ingrained in the fiber of your very being. You enjoyed seeing Lewis angry, especially when there was a mistake during race weekend. Not that you blamed him for losing, as the car wasn't up to par, but he had a unique way of channeling his anger through sexual pleasure.
A familiar shiver ran down your spine as you hit send on a three-letter response to him.
Well, there goes the idea of keeping my distance and any modicum of self-respect.
Bitch, you know you can't resist that dick, quipped your inner hoe.
And as usual, she was correct.
The hotel didn't have a direct view of Hobsons Bay, but the Yarra River and Botanical Gardens could still be seen from the balcony. It was nighttime, and as Lewis moved in a steady rhythm, your vision may not have been top-notch, but the sparkling city lights served as a focal point amidst the familiar feeling building up in your pelvic region, signaling an imminent orgasm.
You couldn't help but moan loudly as Lewis hit that spot inside of you that always made you lose control. He had you bent over the railing, one hand gripping your hip while the other played with your aching nodule. Each thrust sent bolts of pleasure shooting through your body.
"Fuck," he grunted in your ear. "You feel so good."
You couldn't respond, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. As his pace quickened, your moans grew louder and more desperate. The height from the penthouse's balcony was both terrifying and exhilarating, deafening in its intensity. It was a common choice for him whenever he visited Australia, as if being that high up meant less chance of encountering any spiders.
Just as you were about to reach your climax, Lewis stopped to bend down to bury his face in your core, working that sinful mouth of his. Your legs began to tremble as two of his fingers pushed inside you, matching the movements of his tongue.
He had always been a master at eating pussy, and it didn't take long for you to reach your climax. You cried out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you breathless and satisfied. Lewis stood up, a smug grin on his face as he saw the effect he had on you. He turned you around to kiss you deeply, tasting your own essence on his lips.
"You're still the best I've ever had," he whispered against your lips.
After catching your breath, you put a smirk on your face. "That's because I am the best," you teased.
"You’re right 'bout that," he concurred, leading you to the patio couch.
He sat next to you, his hands running up your sides and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his hands on your body.
"You always know how to make me feel good," you murmured.
"I aim to please," he replied with a wicked grin, before leaning in to kiss you again.
Without breaking the kiss, Lewis maneuvered you so you were now straddling his lap. His lips moved down your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine. Your hands roamed his muscular back, feeling every ridge and dip of his body.
His hands traveled to your hips, guiding them as you began to grind against him. The friction between your bodies was building a delicious heat, making it hard for you both to control yourselves.
"God, I need you," he growled against your skin.
You moaned in response, eagerly meeting his lips again. Lewis thrust upwards, filling you to the hilt and causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned back slightly and rocked your hips faster against his. The pressure was building between the two of you and it was becoming harder to keep quiet. Your nails raked across his skin and he hissed in pain.
"Mmm...easy there, baby girl," he rumbled out a low warning, giving your earlobe a gentle nip of reproach. "Can't have you mauling me before the big race this weekend. Need to look pretty for my adoring fans."
You scoffed and ground harder against him in sweet retaliation, making him curse roughly. "Please, I'll mark you up anyway I want," you husked.
Lewis chuckled and tightened his grip on your waist, holding you still as he thrust up into you with more force. Your head fell back in pleasure, a loud moan escaping your lips.
"Jesus Christ," he groaned, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chased his own release. He reached between your bodies to stimulate your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with your moans and Lewis' low curses.
"That’s my girl takin' this dick so well," he croons softly. "You’re so fuckin' wet, baby. You like this dick, huh? This yours?"
Lewis' words only spurred you on, as you continued to ride him with reckless abandon. The pleasure was building inside of you, threatening to consume you completely.
"You know it's mine," you gasped out, your nails digging into his shoulders. "No one else's."
"Damn right," Lewis growled, his own release approaching fast. He gripped your hips tighter and slammed into you one last time, pushing you both over the edge.
Your walls clenched around him like a vice as you came undone, screaming his name as he followed suit shortly after.
Panting and sweating, the two of you collapsed onto the couch in a tangled heap. Lewis held you close, kissing your forehead gently.
"You're amazing," Lewis murmured, voice rough with satiated desire. His arms tightened around you, pulling your flushed body flush against his sweat-sheened skin.
You hummed out a breathless laugh, nuzzling your face against the solid warmth of his chest. "So are you."
For a long while, the two of you simply held each other close, basking in the post-coital glow. Lewis traced idle patterns across the exposed skin of your back, his touch reverent and tender.
Finally, with obvious reluctance, Lewis stirred beneath you.
"As much as I hate to move right now, we should probably get cleaned up."
The two of you stood up, still tangled in each other's embrace, and made your way to the bathroom. Lewis turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature before pulling you under the warm spray with him.
You leaned back against his chest, feeling content and blissful as he washed your body with slow, gentle movements. His hands lingered on your curves and crevices, eliciting soft moans from you.
"I could get used to this," Lewis murmured against your neck, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear.
You chuckled and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. "Me too."
And even though you are apprehensive, there is no denying that Lewis was still the best thing in your world, but it all can't be butterflies and rainbows...
TO BE CONTINUED.....
#emjayewrites#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fanfic#sir lewis hamilton x black!reader#lewis hamilton x black!reader#formula one!black reader#formula one x black reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton fanfiction
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so I realized that around this time of the year is already past my 1 year anniversary of being hyperfixated on Rob?? time flies
this is the timeline of how it happened according to some vague memories:
1. i happen to see some random video of The Rerun on like, YouTube I think
2. me: hmm i think that one eyed guy is giving some real gender envy– wait. oh no. its happening. he's the new Chosen One, isn't he
3. im not hyperfixated im not hyperfixated im not–
4. I AM SO FUCKING HYPERFIXATED I LOVE ROB FROM TAWOG HE MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!
5. rob is a major part of my life and my headspace now. i couldn't stop if I tried, because some part of my brain views him as an actual close friend, and therefore abandoning this hyperfixation would feel extremely cruel. i would never do that to him and therefore he will be my imaginary bestie/adoptive son forever. i will never grow out of it. i am perfectly okay with that
#its always been gender envy that gets me hyperfixated on a character. like i dont think its ever been anything else lmao#and by his gender i mean the fact hes kinda just a Funky Creature Thing Whose Species We Cannot Quite Identify. that is the gender#this actually might be the longest character hyperfixation ive had so far... he really is the Chosen One#i used to watch this show when i was in elementary school but i didnt have access to every episode#so maybe thats why i have no memory of him from when i was that young?#or maybe seeing him in that video unknowingly gave me deja vu which is another reason why he initially caught my attention?#5 or 6 years later... the irrelevant forgettable side character from that one weird cartoon crawls out of the deep recesses of my brain#and ends up living in my head rent free#for over a year#and he shows no signs of moving out anytime soon#top 5 comebacks of this past decade-and-a-half (my life)#this is so weirdly poetic in a kinda fucked up but also funny way#wow this whole post is basically just me screaming “I HAVE AUTISM” over and over#rob tawog#tawog#the amazing world of gumball#tawog rob#dr wrecker
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hii! omg so i rlly love your writing its incredible. i have two requests but you can choose whichever one! the first one is an imagine w steve and the reader based off of call it what you want by taylor. orr a hurt/comfort imagine where the reader is basically comforting steve maybe aft he’s had a fight w his parents or something? again i rlly love your writing literally look forward for new writeups all the time!
at least we did one thing right
a/n: this one has been sitting in my inbox since forever and i managed to stir up this cute little thing. ciwyw is one of my favorite tracks of reputation and i can't wait to get the re-recording of this (hopefully soon!!!)
The party was in full swing, and by party you meant all of your close friends who are gathered in Steve’s living room and kitchen entertaining themselves while you and Steve hid away in his backyard like a routine.
His gaze flickered through the sliding doors, mock concern etched on his features as he mutters under his breath, “I swear to god, they better not pick the pineapple off the other slices.”
You turned your head to see what he was going on about, and sure enough the teenage boys were ravaging the kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days. At this rate, they were like bottomless pits, and you weren’t quite sure how they were able to put away a portion of food without blinking.
Still, you snorted, swatting a hand over his thigh and garnering his attention back to you.
“They’re growing boys and their appetites are different from when they were twelve. We can order another if they’re still hungry.” You shrugged.
He shook his head, shifting to pull your legs over and across his lap.
“I ordered pineapple for you, and you should at least get to have one slice of it.” Steve insisted, though your orbs were too clouded with heart eyes to see the irritation he wore for the innocently selfish boys.
You pursed your lips into a tight smile, hooking your arm over his bicep, tugging yourself closer to him, “You’re so cute for someone who hogs all the blankets at night.”
He looked down at you, shaking his head with a mushy smile coming over him, “Hey you’re the one who likes the house freezing!”
Steve rumbles a string of laughter into the air, using his free arm that’s not being clung onto, to drape over your frame, practically wrenching your whole body onto his as you begin joining in the amusement. You give up on trying to get the upper-hand, letting yourself sit comfortably in his lap, your joined hands resting on either side of your bodies and you lean down to lay your head on his chest.
You snuggled deeper into the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. It’s a simple pleasure of yours to be wrapped up in his arms, high above the whole scene, in your own little world like nothing else mattered.
“You’re my portable space heater, got all the warmth I need,” you declared, pressing kind kisses over his chest feeling his lips brush over your hairline.
Steve thought he must have done something right in this lifetime in order to give himself to you in a way he hadn’t given anyone else before. He doesn’t care that it’s simply you two sneaking away just to act like corny teenagers again. All of that fades into nothing when you look at him the way you do.
But before you could savor the moment, a familiar voice interrupted from above, followed by the squeak of rusty wheels gliding across the frame.
“Are you guys having fun out here without us!” Robin shouted, ringing out closer as she approached you both, but of course not without the presence of Eddie by her side.
You sat up, laughing, while Steve groaned and craned his neck to greet them. “You guys have to stop sneaking off to do whatever this is,” Eddie teased, gesturing between you both with a lighthearted smirk.
Steve grunted, “You’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend to love on,” he shot back, pulling you down by the wrists to meet his lips in a messy kiss that left you giggling.
Eddie feigned revulsion and quickly retreated back inside, while Robin settled beside your bodies, her eyes twinkling with affection. “I still think you guys are adorable, even though this sneaking off thing is getting old.”
Robin had always been rooting for the two of you — there was just something about you both that made perfect sense, and when you finally bit the bullet, it was safe to say she was celebratory about the whole thing.
“We just don’t want to bore you guys with our public displays of affection,” you teased, sharing a knowing smile with Robin who threw her head back and laughed at all the times your friends would scold you both to cut out the lovey dovey acts.
Steve interjected, “Last time we cuddled on the couch you kicked us out of movie night…in my house!”
Robin rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s because we could all smell the sexual tension between you guys. Seriously, just get it out of your systems before we get here.”
You slapped your hands over your flushed face, groaning behind them, “Noted. We’ll remember that for next time.” You promised, shaking your head.
Steve couldn’t contain his laughter, his eyes crinkling as he turned to his best friend with a pleading look. “Now, can you please leave and let me make out with my girlfriend in peace?”
She rose up out of the lounger with a grin, “If there’s one thing you guys did right, it’s each other… and I don’t mean sex!” With that she disappeared back inside, leaving you both to yourselves.
Steve gently pulled your hands away from your face, his soft smiling easing away any idling embarrassment that you knew was all in good fun. He brought your hands closer to his lips, spreading kisses across your knuckles that made your stomach flip with warmth.
“Well, at least did one thing right,” He murmured, raising his brows up at you as you blushed and nodded.
“We sure did.” You whispered, before cupping his cheeks and bringing yourself down to him.
Your eyes fluttered shut, closing the distance between your lips, fitting themselves together like a daydream. The jokers and the drama queens could take all the swings and call it whatever they wanted to — as long as you and Steve knew it was love.
💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
#munsonsreputation#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve stranger things#steve harrington#taylor swift x stranger things#steve harrington x taylor swift
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Rage, rage | two
prologue | one | two | three |
Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she knows who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: violence, injuries, description of injuries, PTSD, bad language, again The King of Hybern...
A/N: so here it is, the second part. I really hope that you're all liking it. It's starting to settle, our protagonists are meeting and it's getting more interesting!! As always, any kind of support would be greatly appreciated! Thank you all for your time❤️
Nimue stands in the middle of her enormous room: a chamber so deep within her father's castle, it is carved directly into the mountain rock. She doesn't see natural light, hear the ocean waves, or watch birds fly.
Not that she has ever seen them. She simply knows they exist, how they sound, how they smell, because the Cauldron has told her so.
She observes her own reflection in the huge mirror on the wall. The girl she sees is truly beautiful. She possesses an ethereal beauty that seems to emanate from within her, as if she were imbued with the same magic that created her. Her long, silky hair falls in wavy cascades of silver, with flashes of light that seem to dance with every movement. Her eyes are of a hypnotic color, like the whitest of pearls, shining with ancient wisdom and fierce determination. Her skin is pale as the moon, yet it gleams with a radiant glow that seems to illuminate even the darkest night. Her figure is slender and elegant.
The reflection the mirror returns is that of an ancient, wise, powerful being.
However, she only feels like a child, surrounded by things she knows from others' words.
When her father isn't listening, Nimue asks the Palace cooks to recount to her what the world beyond the walls is like. In particular, it's the words of old Ferlan that she enjoys hearing the most: she describes the landscape beyond the cliffs on which the castle stands, the dense enchanted forests, the fertile plains where people live in beautiful villages, the beaches of black sand and cold water, the cliffs where giants were said to have once dwelled...
It's those stories that comfort Nimue's lonely heart, that shed light on her shadow-filled world.
Before she knows it, she's wandered so far in her daydreams that she doesn't even know what time it is.
That's when she feels it in the air, even before hearing it. That sweet scent that accompanies The Voice...
"You have everything in your power to be free, child," it whispers in her ear. The scent, the presence, like a smoke-shaped entity, swirls around her, caressing her cheeks and tucking strands of hair behind her ears. "No one would dare stand in your way. Once you decide, the world will bow to your will. Your father will submit to your will..."
Nimue violently shakes her head. The Voice steps back, but when she becomes still again, it clings to her skin once more.
"But father... what has he done to me?"
The Voice laughs, and Nimue feels like she's going to be sick.
"What has father done to you? You're foolish, child. Foolish. Foolish. Innocent. Foolish," it spits out word after word, and Nimue feels them like daggers.
"Father brought me into the world, father gave me life. I owe everything to father, and he asks me to fight in his name. To protect my people from those who wish us harm."
Nimue clings to her own words like a mantra.
"Father loves me..." she whispers into the air, for The Voice is no longer there with her. She wonders if it was ever really there at all, or if it was just feverish imaginings to soothe her own loneliness.
Father loves her. But she knows he's not a good person. Nimue knows what lies beyond, and she longs to see the sunlight, to see the sea, to feel the rain on her skin...
Nimue knows her father isn't a good person. But neither is she.
She knows she has to kill her father. But where will she find the courage? She only knows these four walls that surround her. What will she do when she kills him? Will the Cauldron be angry with her? What kind of child kills their own father?
She spins, and spins, and spins with the same questions for years. Since the moment she gained enough awareness in her fae body to realize that her "father" wasn't the hero of the story, and she was just another puppet in his conquest game.
The only thing she was sure of was that she wouldn't be the good one either. That she wouldn't let her father win that game.
With light steps, she leaves her room and decides to wander around the castle for a bit. Curiosity is what moves her.
In these past weeks, her father's castle has been filled with various guests of all kinds, a very diverse selection. The legions of the attor, her father's elite soldiers, the highest-ranking officials, there were even two males from Prythian and a few simple humans.
Humans. Nimue had been smelling them for weeks in every corner of the castle. That stale stench that seeped into her pores.
She wondered what reasons the King would have to bring humans into the cleanliness of his castle, but as always, even if she asked, the answer would be the same: politics is not Nimue's concern. Nimue only fights, fights, fights.
However, today the hallways were surprisingly empty. Empty of humans, attor, and even the guards.
Where was everyone?
And it was right at that moment, in that desolate and gloomy hallway, that Nimue noticed the silence.
There were guards all over the castle. Magical guards isolating something, someone. There was something blocking her senses, and no matter how much she extended her magical perception, she couldn't feel the Cauldron.
The Cauldron.
Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she was alone without the presence of the Cauldron. If until then she had felt lonely, she realized it was nothing compared to the pressure she felt in her chest.
What was happening?
She began to run, like a lost child in an enchanted forest.
While she had never seen the Cauldron after she emerged, she had always lived with its constant presence in the castle. She knew it was there, it comforted her, it kept her company. Sometimes she even believed that The Voice she heard was the Cauldron itself, seeking to keep her company.
She kept running, and running, and running, not knowing where to. As she turned a corner, she felt the need to grip the white stone wall so tightly that she felt a nail break.
What was that pain in her chest? By the Mother, she had never experienced an arrow to the heart, but she imagined that's how it must feel. What was happening to her?
As soon as she caught her breath, she continued running somewhere, with that throbbing pain between her ribs.
And she heard it:
My creature, my sweet creature.
She stopped abruptly, all senses alert and panting like a racehorse.
Come, princess. I have gifts for you. Follow my voice, sweet girl.
Nimue almost sobbed. That voice, sweet, like a mother's... The Cauldron was calling her.
She finally saw it clearly: she knew which doors to open, which stairs to climb, which corners to turn. She saw it so clearly that for a moment she was blinded by all that power that the Cauldron emanated.
"I'm coming!" she cried, desperate.
She knew which door it was behind, and when she opened it, the wave of power that greeted her completely stunned her.
And then she began to process her surroundings: in the throne room, there were all the guards, all the creatures that formed her father's court. All surrounding a truly grotesque scene.
Nimue put on the intimidating mask she had practiced so much, while her gaze danced from figure to figure: an Ilyrian (an Ilyrian male, she hadn't seen any!) lying on the floor, its black and powerful wings now nothing more than torn limbs and patches of skin. A little further away, another Ilyrian male (by the Mother, two in one day!), this one with an arrow lodged in his chest and kneeling in a pool of his own blood, next to him a beautiful blonde female with tears streaming down her face.
She kept looking, there was everything in that room. When everyone recognized her presence and turned to look at her, she felt as if time stood still as she advanced, making her way among the guards' armors. With her head held high and her curious gaze, she tried to calm her own nerves and continued observing.
There were humans there, those women her father had once called queens. Queens of what? Also that hateful Jurian, with whom she had coincided a couple of times, enough to decide he was nothing but trash. And two females...
Her gaze returned to the group beyond, where behind the Ilyrian she found a pair of fae, and unwittingly she recognized him, his darkness.
Rhysand.
She frowned and continued walking towards her father, circling the whole scene while feeling all eyes on her, following her graceful movements.
Come, child. And look at the gift, look at it...
And she set her eyes on the Cauldron.
She forgot about that phantom arrow lodged in her chest, and stopped next to her father, her gaze fixed on the Cauldron.
She felt her father's accusatory gaze on her, but putting that aside, he spoke:
"You arrive at the perfect moment, my dear daughter," and after those words, she felt as if everyone in the room breathed again after her untimely interruption.
What the hell was going on there? What was the High Lord Rhysand doing in her castle? Who were those accompanying him?
"You arrive at the perfect moment to witness the miracle of the Cauldron. To witness the demonstration these humans will perform for it..."
Her father continued speaking, but Nimue completely ignored him. She just stood there, next to the King of Hybern, and analyzed the whole situation.
The two fae males who had been hanging around her house for weeks, the blonde and the redhead, bound by her father's magic. Weren't they allies? Why was her father imprisoning them?
A little further away, the two guards holding one of the two human girls began pushing her towards the Cauldron.
She heard screams, pleas, denials from all sides. The King spoke, the human Queens, the fae female next to Rhysand, some of them shouting at each other.
But Nimue only had eyes for the poor human they were pushing towards the Cauldron.
What were they going to…?
And as if she were a feather, they lifted her above the edge of the Cauldron and submerged her in a single motion, plunging her until she lost sight of her.
Nimue felt pure terror. Memories that weren't hers flooded her.
Skin dissolving, bones breaking, desperate screams.
She screamed into the air, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that escaped her chest. Her father stopped her by pulling on the leash, even before she had thought of throwing herself towards the poor girl.
Rage, rage, rage, rage, rage.
Everything that happened afterward was like a blink.
The Cauldron spat the girl onto the flagstones as if she were a fish out of water.
Look, child. I have given you a sister. I have created a sister for you.
Nimue breathed so fast she thought she was going to faint.
The people present were saying things, shouting, crying, laughing.
The other human fought tooth and nail against the guards, her screams piercing Nimue's eardrums, who only let herself be infected by the rage of that poor human.
Her rage. Rage. Rage.
The rage that boiled in every nerve of her being. It bubbled at the tips of her fingers, beneath her skin, in her eyes, everywhere.
If she opened her mouth, she felt like her own rage would burst forth in torrents, like a river after the snows.
Her rage was going to burst out, all over her father.
The second human kept fighting. Nimue never imagined the human spirit could be so untamed.
And the hand of that woman pointing at her father made something change in the air.
Nimue felt her leash loosen, felt her father getting a little nervous.
And she saw the moment.
She saw the weakness in the air, the King's doubt.
And she embraced it.
The second human emerged from the Cauldron, transformed into something.
And Nimue exploded.
A beam of white light burst from her chest, throwing her father backward. The King's head hit one of the columns, and everyone present in the room recoiled at such a wave of power.
What rage. What immense rage. It consumed her inside, burned her. So much, so much rage.
She raised an arm and pointed at her father, feeling how, again, energy rose from her feet to the tips of her fingers. She struck the King again with all that rage.
"You're a monster!" she shouted. She shouted it again and again, while feeling that with every pulse of power she directed towards him, she was gradually breaking down his shields.
However, the King of Hybern laughed, kneeling on the flagstones and trying to regain his composure. A venomous, disgusting laugh that made bile rise in Nimue's mouth.
In a last attempt to take control of the situation, Nimue raised a shield in the center of the room, around the Cauldron. In two agile leaps, she positioned herself next to Rhysand.
"Show me a place," she demanded. Rhysand clung to the brunette female beside him, tears streaming down his face. His gaze jumped from Nimue to the Ilyrian males, from the Ilyrian males to the new fae females, and back to Nimue. "Tell me a place and I'll get you out of here! Quickly, show me!" the princess demanded again.
The guards pounded Nimue's white shield again and again, and behind her, she felt the King of Hybern standing up.
Her gaze met Rhysand's again, and the male, trembling, took Nimue's hand.
"To Velaris," he managed to whisper.
Nimue didn't know how, but as soon as she heard the name, she knew exactly where it was, what it was. She chose whom to take: the two Ilyrian males, the beautiful blonde fae female, the two girls who had been submerged in the Cauldron, the female clinging to Rhysand, and finally Rhysand himself, whose hand Nimue held when she let her magic transport her and everyone else away from there. Away from Hybern. Away from her home.
To Velaris.
Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading
If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! Thank you for your support 🥰
#azriel x oc#azriel imagine#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar#rhysand#cassian#azriel x female!reader#azriel x you
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Oh, nothing much, just a list of reasons why I am so excited to permashift to my ultimate 4d reality //better current reality//
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
— EXPERIENCING DESIRED SCENARIOS
I am a hardcore daydreamer just like my brother and sister shifters(you guys🫵🏾), and I can't wait to really live the silly imagines I always have in my head. Even if it's something relatively small, I will still get to live every second of them.
Idk if some of you guys will remember that one post where I mentioned Googlebox? But I'm mentioning it again🙄 because I scripted me, my love of my life, his sister who is my bff, my own girl bff and her boyfriend are part of the program teehee. I swear no one will ever understand how much of a comfort show Googlebox is to me and in general.
The idea of being on TV whilst watching TV and relaxing with my favourite people and eating my favourite food just makes me melt. It's such a core memory to me and idk I just love showing off how perfect my family is to everyone else
— FOOD
I can't wait for all the delicious food I'll get to eat. There will never be a single time where I have to eat something I don't like or don't want to ever again, because why should I have to? I'm mostly excited to have stuff like popeyes, McDonald's, seafood boils, those Korean and Japanese foods you see on mukbangs, loads of fruit bowls (I really do love fruit), basically everything meat/barbecue, pasta including ramen, and sweets too cus🧍🏿♀️🤷🏾♀️
— NO UGLY CLOTHES ALLOWED
Never will there be a day or night where I will ever need to wear clothes that don't suit me or clothes I don't like. My closet is going to be full of the cutest and gorgeous late 90s and early 2000s skirts, shirts, bellbottoms, flares, jackets, oversized ts, shorts, belts, slippers, jewelry, panties and bras etc etc
— ALREADY COMPLETED WORK
In my better cr, I scripted that I am already miles ahead of everyone in college work (and best believe all my work is at distinction level) so I have all the time in the world to do what I want until the next brief; I also scripted the date of month that I will wake up in my better cr in is the 16th April last week so I will have only 3 days of college next week (because i go in on mondays, tuesdays, wendsays and Thursdays) and 4 weeks of freedom to myself. (I also scripted my teachers let me do my own art work in my free time in class, cus sometimes all a girl wants to do is draw their ocs🥺)
— CURRENTLY IN MY MOVING ERA
In better cr, I am kind of in the planning process of moving out of my house to my apartment penthouse with my friend group. I'm thinking of moving out at 18 or 19 years old since I'm 17 rn and I still want to explore my better cr house cus it's wayyyy better than this one. But even once I've moved out I'll probably keep visiting my old home where my mum and her husband lives because.
∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘
Overall, I am so excited to experience everything I have ever dreamed of. I know I deserve my freedom and peace, excitement, and joy. Being able to just do what I want when I want and always knowing that no matter what, everything is going to be okay.
Life is so amazing, and it's so worth living. I know I will manifest my desired reality in no time, and I know all of the stress, time, anxiety, and patience won't be for nothing. Life is mine to explore, and I can't wait to do so
@4ellieluv @livingmydreamlife5555 @theshifterbear @cocozydiaries
#desired reality#master manifestor#4d reality#law of assumption#shiftblr#drself#loa#shifters#shifting#loa blog#loa advice#loassumption#loa tumblr#loa success#reality shift#shifted#reality shifting#shifttok#shifting community
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The Forbidden Five each have a uniquely-shaped hat, so we can tell that Nokt is the one who will break Lloyd’s sword. And he’d better, no offense to Lloyd, because we did not spend an entire ten episodes revolving around freeing the Forbidden Five and hyping them up as world-ending threats (ten episodes used to be the length of an entire season!!!) just for our only properly-displayed member to be made an immediate fool out of. They better make up for this in P2 by having Nokt live up to the hype. I wanna see him utterly decimate in the Tournament of Sources and make Ras look like a punk who just got lucky. I want to see Lloyd get the beating of his life and have his sword broken right in front of him, allowing Nokt to move upwards and setting up another protagonist to defeat him. I want Cinder’s beatdowns to look G-rated compared to Nokt’s.
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A head canon I have for Jason is that his favorite rogue is Bookworm. Bookworm was really only ever in the 60’s show so he’s never canonically fought Jason to my knowledge but he’s basically the Riddler but for books instead of riddles. Any time Bookworm and Jason fight it basically devolves into book club so just like
I’m imagining Jason goes for his first battle with Bookworm as Red Hood and his comms cut out mid fight so Dick and Bruce run in for backup
And they kick down the door to try and free Jason
Only to see Jason and Bookworm sitting on the floor, drinking wine, and talking about the subtextual queer coding in Jane Eyre
yeah and he 100% gives him the same kind of treatment the bats give harley (in my head). knows he's harmless and will only act out if provoked, so he gives him the benefit of the doubt + trusts him to live freely 97% of the time. (he was also single-handedly the person who protested against him being put in arkham asylum for the rest of his life)
he genuinely meets up with bookworm over coffee, although partially to check in on him and make sure he's not going to begin a 100+ murder rampage again, he's also just having a chat with a friend about the book he recommended to him last time he had to hunt him down... and the political state of the world.
when he does find himself locked up, whether that be in a ward or arkham, although jason doesn't always visit (business and all) he always makes sure the facilities can provide him with something suitable to read.
news gets out to the bats about bookworm having a breakdown and going off the radar, and jason's more insistent than he's ever been when he says he's going after him alone. he truly believes he isn't evil by nature, and knows that all it takes to bring him down is a familiar face and a well-read intellectual conversation.
naturally when jason's out of reach and bruce + dick are tasked with stopping bookworm, they think it's going to be a piece of cake considering what they know about jason's history with catching him. but god are they so wrong. they get him in the end of course, but really have to take a second and ask themselves how the fuck jason not only enjoys working bookworm shifts, but has completely TAMED a rogue like that.
#ok i know he's definitely FAR from harmless but just pretend...#i love i love i LOVE#asks#hurdy-girly#!!!!!!!!#dc bookworm#jason todd#red hood#robin#batboys#batkids#dc comics#dcu#dc#dc batman#batman 1966#gothihop speaks
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•°. *࿐ Cookie monster || NH13
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : we can’t be friends (wait for your love - Ariana Grande
Nico Hischier x Reader
Synopsis: At the end of a get-together, your cookie jar always ends up empty. You hatch out a plan to catch whoever is eating all of the cookies. Not once, did it cross your mind that they might be your Swiss neighbor friend from across the hall.
Word count: 1.615
Masterlist
I’m a sucker for neighbor au’s. Anyway, not too happy with this one and it probably doesn’t make much sense. But it’s late, and it’ll do for now.
You wouldn’t say you have a ton of friends. You simply have a select few close ones. They range from being high school friends that you’ve known for years and kept in touch with, to friends you’ve made at work, to your hockey-loving neighbor. Truth be told, you’re not that big of a hockey fan. So it’s a miracle how you became such close friends in a short time. Nico likes to say that it’s nice to have a friend who barely knows anything about the hockey world. He likes the fact that he has a clueless friend in his life for when he wants to relax after a few tough games. Of course, he’s also glad to celebrate with you when he does have some smooth-sailing games. Even though you might not know what’s going on half of the time, you’re always genuinely happy about his achievements. This he appreciates a lot. He might even love you for that, but he won’t admit that to you.
Every time you hold a get-together at your apartment. You’ve noticed something peculiar. The jar of cookies you’ve set out for your friends to eat if they decide to come over is always empty after they visit. Now, you aren’t mad about this relegation. You are just curious about who is eating all of your cookies. You’re glad someone is enjoying your homemade cookies, but you'd like to know who this cookie monster is. It’s a small jar that can only hold a few cookies. So you don’t mind it that much. If anything, you think it’s quite funny.
You’re hosting another get-together after your last one, which was a few weeks ago. You’re determined to catch your cookie eater. You’re going to try to keep an eye on your jar while mingling with friends. You put some of the newest batch of cookies in the cookie jar and set it on your kitchen counter. Free for them to take. Shortly after the silence in the apartment gets interrupted by knocking at your front door. You wipe your hands while walking over. You open your door. A smile instantly spreads across your face. “Nico! It’s good to see you again!” You say happily as you usher him inside. He chuckles softly, sending a tingle through your body. Are you crushing on your Swiss neighbor? Definitely. You can’t deny that. But will you tell him? Absolutely. Not. You’d do anything for him. “It’s good to see you too. How have you been?” He asks and sits down on the couch. You shrug, “it’s been okay. Been busy recently, it’s great to have some free time on my hands again.” He nods. He’s about to say something before he gets interrupted by another knock on the door. You offer him a small smile. “Sorry about that.” He waves it off. “It’s fine. Go ahead.” Without needing to say more you let more friends in. With a quick hug and a quick exchange, everyone is sitting in your living room and conversing with one another.
You come out from the kitchen with drinks and some snacks on a platter and set it on the coffee table. You hop onto the couch next to Nico and join in on the conversation. Time flies by quickly, and before you know it you and Nico are the only ones left in your apartment. Nico looks at the time on his phone. “I think I should get going. I need to take care of some stuff.” He says and gets up from the couch. You follow suit. “Alright. You should come over sometime soon again. It’s been fun.” He nods and smiles. “Oh yeah, for sure. We’ll talk about it. You should come over to mine next time.” You nod. “We’ll talk about it.” You say your goodbyes and he leaves. You watch him enter the apartment across from yours. He gives you a small wave before he closes his door.
You shut your door and head to the kitchen. You didn’t pay attention to the cookie jar like you said you would. You lay your eyes upon the jar, only to find it empty again. You sigh and grab the jar. You put it in the sink and clean it before storing it away again. So much for catching your cookie monster.
***
You’re holding once again another meet-up. You’re baking another batch of cookies to fill your jar. This time you have a solid plan. Some would say it’s foolproof. One by one your friends start piling in and welcoming themselves on your couch. Nico is the last to arrive this time. He apologises but you shrug it off. It's not a big deal to you. You’re just glad he was able to come. Everyone converses with each other again. You and Nico mainly talk with each other. The others don’t mind they encourage it. They know you have a thing for the 6 ft 1 Swiss hockey player. It’s as if it’s obvious to everyone but Nico. You stand up, “I’m going to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be back in a minute.” You tell him. He nods. “Alright. Go ahead.” You take that as your sign to set your plan in motion. You’re not going to the bathroom. You’re going to hide in the hallway, it has the perfect view of the kitchen. If you wait here long enough you’ll know who’s leaving your cookie jar empty.
Sure enough. A wandering Nico enters the kitchen. He sees your cookie jar. Some cookies have already been eaten by your friends. He grabs one and eats it. He smiles happily as he munches on them. He quickly eats one by one. They’re all gone in five minutes. He wipes his mouth to get rid of the crumbs and heads back to the living room. You’ve finally caught your cookie monster. It was oddly cute how he was scarfing down your cookies. You shake your head but can’t help but let out a small chuckle. You’re pleasantly surprised that Nico has been liking your cookies so much. You make a mental note to make another batch for him so that you can give him those the next time you go to his place.
You enter the living room. From a supposed bathroom break. You have a knowing grin on your face. Nico chuckles, “What’s that grin for?” He asks curiously. You shake your head, “nothing. I just came to a realization.” He doesn’t believe you, you can see that on his face. But he doesn’t pry you further. “Whatever you say, Schatz.” He has been calling you that a lot lately. You don’t have a clue what it means, and every time you bring it up he says it’s something they say back in Switzerland. He likes calling you that, and he has been doing that ever since he first slipped up.
Soon enough everyone leaves again. Before Nico leaves he turns to you. “Come over this weekend if you’re free. I’m going to be free. I won’t mind your company.” He says with a small smile. You let out a chuckle. “Sure I’ll come over. I’ll see you then. Is Saturday good?” He nods. “Perfect. See you then.”
***
Saturday comes quicker than you thought it would. You’re making another batch of cookies, this time it’s solely for Nico. Now that you know he has been eating them you work hard to make them perfect. You put dollops of cookie dough on the baking sheet and flatten them. You shove the cookies into the oven and set a timer of ten minutes. You clean up in the meantime. The timer goes off and starts beeping. You take the cookies out and let them cool for another ten minutes. After they cooled you put them in the jar again.
When it’s time to hop over to his place, you make sure to grab the jar and lock the door behind you. You cross the hallway and knock on his door. He opens and his eyes flicker down to the jar of cookies in your hands. He motions for you to come inside. He leads you to his living room and offers you to sit. You place the jar on his table. He looks at it and smiles at you. “It’s only us two tonight. You didn’t have to make them.” You give him a knowing grin. “I was starting to wonder where all my cookies went. I think it’s safe to say I found my cookie monster.” He stumbles over his words before you interrupt him with a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I find it rather endearing.” You point to the full cookie jar. “These are all for you. Just return the jar to me when you finish them.” He visibly relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Although you didn’t have to.” You let out a small chuckle. “I don’t mind baking you more cookies if you like them.” He smiles. “If it isn’t too much trouble. I wouldn’t mind it.” He says softly. You nod determinedly. “Then more cookies are coming up for Nico Hischier.” You tease him a little. He lets out a boisterous laugh. He winks at you. “I’ll be waiting for them.”
You can’t help but feel like you’ve gotten closer, despite him being your cookie monster. And who knows? Perhaps tonight will be the extra push you need. One thing is for certain. Your feelings for the Swiss in front of you are blooming strongly into something more than just a silly crush.
#hockey#nhl#nhl fic#nhl hockey#nhl players#nhl x reader#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier imagine#nh13#new jersey devils#nj devils#fluff
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The Silence Left in My Wake
Fandom: ACOTAR
Pairing: (past) Rhysand x Reader, Azriel + Reader, Morrigan + Reader, Cassian + Reader
Reader: she/her, High Fae, Y/N used
Genre: Angst, fluff
Word Count: 3.6k
<<request>>
For a while, you had convinced yourself they would come for you. Cassian, Azriel, Morrigan... Rhysand. It was the one hope you held onto over the years. But fifty years is a long time to hope for something that will never happen. || The world keeps spinning when we're gone. Unfortunately for you, that means when you're finally free after over fifty years of captivity, nothing is the same. Once told you would marry the love of your life and become his Lady of Night, you come come face-to-face with your new reality, and reunite with the family you had been waiting on to save you.
The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream. You had no hopes, no freedom, no choice in the life you would live.
Then came the High Lord; Rhysand. A dark force of nature, who came into your life like a terrific storm and upended everything you thought you knew. With Rhysand, you let your walls crumble, let yourself imagine a life outside of that mountain. There were politics to navigate before he could steal you away, of course, but he assured you that one day he'd sweep you off into his City of Dreams and make you his wife, his Lady.
But The Court of Nightmares was no place to dream.
Rhysand had the perfect story to spin for your father; a proper marriage alliance with the High Lord himself. Your father was not the ambitious fool your lover took him for. He knew there would be no true alliance, that marrying you off would be no better than sending you away to never hear from you again. After all, Morrigan was at his side, and Keir was no better in his good graces for it.
Cassian and Mor both advocated for taking you anyways, but you agreed with Azriel when he argued all the ways that could end badly. As much as you wanted out of that mountain, you wanted to truly be free from it. So, Rhysand continued his painstaking negotiations, with his patience whittling down to nothing. Compromise seemed impossible between the two bull-headed fae, and you began to wonder if the end was in sight.
Then, the worst came to pass.
Amarantha, who you had been carefully hidden from upon her visit to Hewn City (one of the only things Rhysand and your father could agree on), forever changed the the course of fate in one fell swoop.
It was Azriel who had visited you that morning, half-hidden in the shadows in case your father or one of his servants entered your room. He told you of the meeting Rhysand had been invited to with the other High Lords, Amarantha hoping to “make amends” for her actions during the war. He told you of Rhysand's plans to finally take you to Velaris, father be damned, before she was made aware of your existence.
"Pack only what you need," Azriel had said. "If Rhysand doesn't make it, I will come get you myself— Mor and Cassian have been preparing for you all morning."
You had laughed, sending him off with a chaste kiss on the cheek as he melted back into the darkness, his shadows curling around the hand you’d held against his jaw.
That was the last you had heard from them. For the next fifty years, you were well and truly alone.
-----
That night, your father had stormed into your room while you were getting your bag together. Grabbing it and you, he dragged you down to the dungeons and threw you in a cell with a simple “be quiet, and stay safe.”
It wasn't often that your father came to visit you himself. His visits became more and more scarce over the first few years, until you would go years before seeing him again. He looked more haggard every time. You were so lonely that you started to miss him.
You took solace in the darkness at first, but it soon became your greatest torment. Something would move in the corner of you eye and your heart would soar, thinking maybe—just maybe—those familiar shadows had found you. Maybe you would soon be free.
The wraith servants who brought you your food were your only company, and they barely said a word. The room was smaller than your bedroom, not much more than a cell with a bed, desk, and bookcase thrown in, and the bathroom had you longing for your carved tub.
No one would tell you anything. Screaming yourself hoarse got tiring after a while, and your father remained outwardly unmoved by your tears. A dread had crept into your chest, wondering if he had discovered Rhysand's plans to take you away to Velaris. He never mentioned it, but the timing couldn't have been more suspicious. No one had come for you, not even Azriel. How had he stopped even the Shadowsinger from getting to you? Surely the High Lord and his Spymaster had access to the Hewn City dungeon.
You stopped asking questions years ago. Now, you wallow in your monotony, reading every book on your shelf by dim candle light, and occasionally letting those delivering your food know that you needed new ones. They'd always bring you more the next morning, your father's scent, fir and petrichor, faint on the covers and pages. Some nights, when the isolation grew to be too much, you'd hold onto them and cry. You never thought you'd miss the days of your childhood, of him teaching you personally from his own library. You never thought you'd miss your father.
He'd never been like Keir, never treated you the way Mor was, but you'd certainly never have called him loving. And now, he'd locked you in a heavily warded cell and refused to tell you why. You started to feel an odd kinship with the monster you knew lurked beneath the stone, trapped here as you were, only seeing someone when it was time to be fed.
Time blurred together. How long had it been since Rhysand had promised to marry you, since Mor promised a shopping trip, Cassian promised to train you, and Azriel promised to make sure you made it to Velaris? Why had no one come for you?
"Who?" you ask, voice shaking as you sit up in your bed. "Why did you do this to me?"
Then, you’re woken one morning to some answers from your father.
"I'm sorry," he says, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his back to you. "I couldn't let them find you. They would have torn you to pieces just to hurt him."
A tense silence falls on the room. "Amarantha trapped the courts Under the Mountain. Rhysand stood at her side for fifty years, and his Inner Circle were unreachable."
Your heart plummets in your chest at his admission.
"I told Keir you were gone, that they had taken you before they disappeared," he continues, voice oddly soft. "I couldn't reach his daughter or the Spymaster, or even that damned General to take you away from here. He told Amarantha about you, wanting to get in her good graces, and she had that damn Attor tear the manor apart looking for you."
He runs a hand down the wall your headboard is against, and you get a peek at new scars across his skin as his sleeve falls at the motion. "This cell is warded heavily. If Rhysand knew you were in here, he was good at hiding it. But Keir kept sending his Darkbringers to check every so often, either hoping to catch me off-guard or just remind me of where I stand. This was the only place I could think of that even they wouldn’t search."
"What happened?" You finally ask. "Why tell me now?"
"Feyre Cursebreaker," he says with a resigned tone. "High Lady of the Night Court, and Rhysand's mate. She defeated Amarantha, and now we’re preparing for war with Hybern."
Nausea rises in your throat. Out of everything he said, Amarantha, Keir, war—one fact continues to ring in your head. "His mate."
“I’ve tried to get into contact with them since they reemerged, but they’ve refuse to hear me.” He looks back at you, and you wonder if his gaze has always looked so empty. “If Keir knows you are alive, he will kill us both. The High Lord’s lackeys are the only ones who can get you out safely.”
The stress of your situation settles heavily on your shoulders. “So I’m stuck here. Is that what this is leading up to?”
You watch his brows pinch as he considers for a long moment. With a weary sigh, he stands from your bed. “I’ll bring some stationery.”
He drags a heavy hand down his face, but makes no move to deny it.
“Let me write a letter,” you say. “They may not listen to you, but I may have more luck.”
-----
News of the war ending comes long before any response. A letter a month for three months, before they start getting sent back. Perhaps that in itself is a response. The first time he brings a letter back, you let yourself break down. It had been years since you had any hope hopes to crush, but you had let yourself imagine for a moment that it could all be over.
What was even waiting for you out there, now? Your future had been stolen from you the moment the High Lords put their trust in Amarantha, the moment Keir turned his gaze your way. Perhaps it was always supposed to happen like this, with you alone in the end and Rhysand with his mate and High Lady.
In the end, it's Keir who lets it slip and hands you the key to your freedom. Keir, whose mouth works faster than his brain, who looks for any opportunity to hurt his daughter. Keir who sneers, asking how Rhysand’s Hewn City pet felt about being pushed aside for Feyre Archeron.
And it's that daughter who finds you. Holed up in your cell, sitting on your bed and reading anything you can find to take your mind off of your eternal solitude.
It scares you, the way she throws the door open. Her eyes are wide, breath ragged, as if she'd run all the way down to the dungeon instead of the simple winnow she'd more likely done. You hold her gaze, eyes burning as the silent disbelief stretches between you. Setting your book down carefully, you stand from the bed slowly, as if moving too quickly would make her disappear. She stumbles forward, and you find yourself meeting her halfway as her arms wrap around you almost too tightly.
"I thought he was lying," she says, voice shaking. "I wanted him to be lying. I wanted to go back up there and tear his tongue from his lying mouth and—"
"I'm so sorry, Mor," you manage, squeezing her just as tightly.
"Rhys said you were dead, Y/N," she presses. "Your father—"
"Has been trying to tell you all."
A sob chokes its way through her throat, and you're soon joining her. You hear her try to ask more questions, most starting with why, but she seems to find the answers herself before she even gets them out.
"I'm so sorry, Mor," you repeat.
Your reunion doesn't last in peace much longer.
"We have to tell them," she says, face buried in your neck. "Cassian, Azriel— fuck, Y/N, we had a funeral for you. There's a bird bath in the garden with your name carved into it, we thought you were dead. Cauldron, we were just down here, how did we not…"
Pulling from her, you wipe your damp face with your sleeve. She doesn't let you go too far, an arm still wrapped firmly around your waist as she dabs at her own watery eyes.
"I'm getting you out of here." The words you wanted to hear all these years, feeling like a dagger to the heart.
"Mor," you sigh. "I don't know if I can go to Velaris anymore. It's been so long, but I don't know if I can stand in front of him and his mate and say I'm happy for him without breaking."
She cradles your cheek with her free hand, resolute. "Azriel should have taken you with him. He's regretted it every day, leaving you here. We won't make that mistake again. I have a place you can stay at, at least until you figure out what you want to do. But, please, don't ask me to leave you here."
Hesitation grips you tight, the fear of opening your heart up to hope once more. But the look in her brown eyes, her hands warm against your cheeks, has you nodding. "Okay. I'll go."
Her lips smash against your forehead, and you wonder idly if she left a smear of red behind as she pulls away to start grabbing your belongings.
The first time she winnows you into a forest, you cry. Maybe a single tear rolling down your cheek would have felt more poetic, but you're left with the embarrassing kind of chest-shaking sobs.
"It's okay," she murmurs, rubbing your back. "There's going to be a lot of that. Just let it out when it hits you."
Her attempts at lightening the mood are mostly successful, but a lingering dread persists in your gut as you get closer to Velaris. You trust Mor not to drag you there against your will, but there was nothing your mind was better at than exploring worst-case scenarios. The journey thankfully passes without incident, and as you set your bag down on her living room floor you find yourself buzzing with some kind of anticipation.
"Tell them." The sound of your voice has her head snapping to you, eyes wide. "I need a bath first, but… tell them. I can't ask you to lie for me, not to them."
Mor shows you to your room, and you do indeed take your bath. Feeling a little greedy with the hot water, you soak and scrub a little more than usual as you watch the trees outside the window.
A pained expression crosses her face as she takes you into her arms once more. As you wrap yourself around her in turn, you wonder the last time you've ever been held this much in your eighty-odd years.
"Take your bath," she says, voice soft. "There are very few things they'd drop to be here."
How did you ever survive inside of a mountain, never knowing the world outside? Would you survive if you were ever made to go back?
-----
You help Mor set the table. Adjusting plates to hide your shaking hands, rearranging silverware to keep your mind occupied. Eventually, she perks up with a shaking breath.
“Cas and Az are on their way,” she says, slowly sinking into her chair. Relief and disappointment grapple for control at the sound of the short list. The look she gives you does nothing to help.
“Feyre just… had a baby. She and Rhys won’t be leaving Velaris if they can help it.” A baby.
You manage a smile, as painful as it is genuine. “Tell them I understand, please. And that I’m happy for them.”
Her hands reach out across the table, taking yours and rubbing circles into your scrubbed-sore skin. “I’m so sorry this is how things happened. If we knew you were in there—”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you interrupt. “Not really. But I’m out now.”
Squeezing her hands in reassurance, you watch her expression crumble. Desperate to change the conversation, a thought comes to you.
“Could we… eat outside?” Her head lifts at your words, eyes widening slightly. “I saw a table on the patio out back, and as lovely as your home is I don’t think I’ve gotten enough of… outside.”
She laughs, something happy and sad all at once as your words seep in. “Yeah. Yeah, we can eat outside. It’s nice out, anyways. Staying in would be a waste of a perfectly good sunset.”
And just like that, you once again busy yourself with setting the table. This time, however, your guests arrive before you can readjust the silverware. They sound like thunder as they near the patio, their wings covering you in momentary darkness. Then, a literal darkness as Azriel’s shadows swirl around you in a miniature tornado, checking for themselves that you’re you, and you’re alright.
“What the fuck,” Cassian begins, as eloquent as ever.
Mor comes behind you as you turn towards them, placing a grounding hand against the small of your back.
There’s a moment of stunned silence, no one knowing quite where to begin, before Cassian rushes in as he does best and sweeps you off your feet. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, holding him tightly as he swings you around. What feels like a sentient breeze plays with your hair and caresses your cheek, and you find yourself in another pair of arms as soon as your feet hit the ground.
Unspoken words hang heavy as Azriel carefully lowers you back onto the floor. From the lack of questions, you can deduce that Mor had filled them in as much as she could before their arrival. This wasn’t to be an interrogation.
“Who’s hungry?” She asks, pulling out a chair.
-----
Dinner is significantly less awkward than you had feared. Cassian and Morrigan do most of the talking, and a familiar darkness curls comfortingly around your leg whenever it feels you drifting someplace less pleasant.
“I think you’ll like Nesta,” Cassian says. “She can be a viper, but only if you’re trying to piss her off.”
You laugh as you push what’s left of your food around. “I hear she’s quite the reader. We’ll have some common ground at least.”
Mor’s breath hitches and you feel the shadows at your feet twitch in apprehension, but Cassian takes it in stride with a booming laugh. “Cauldron, I’d like to see that. Maybe you could expand each other’s horizons, start a book club.”
The topic dances around what you’re all trying to avoid; the one you’d been waiting to save you for over fifty years. Your head is spinning a bit from all the talking and laughing, but you fear if you send them home you’ll never see them again.
“Do you want to come to Velaris?” Azriel’s voice startles you so badly you nearly don’t even register the question.
“Az,” Mor hisses, all her delicate conversation work thrown out with one question.
You look at him as you consider your answer, and find he has no expectations written on his face. It’s not a probing question, no demand for a response. Just a friend asking where you stand.
“Eventually,” you say, voice quiet. “Maybe not yet.”
He nods, unwilling to press further, and motions for Cassian to continue.
“Not like we’d mind coming out here to visit,” the General says, barely missing a step. “Mor never lets us come around, now she can’t turn us away.”
She laughs, brushing off the earlier upset. “If I want to spend time with you all, I can do it at one of our, what is it, four houses in the city?”
The two continued their lighthearted bickering as you all finished up dinner, acting as if no time had passed. While you had time to mourn your lost future as Rhysand’s wife, you had truly missed the friendships that had been taken from you. Right on cue, as the dark thoughts began to creep in, you were pulled back out. This time not by the shadows lazing about your ankles, but their master himself, his warm hand covering yours on the table. His gaze is soft when you look at him, more vulnerable than you’re used to seeing him.
Mor’s words from earlier swim in your head. ‘He’s regretted it every day, leaving you here.’
Turning your hand over, you squeeze his back with a smile. “It seems we all have some catching up to do.”
“I can go into the city tomorrow and get some stuff for your room,” Mor says, clapping her hands together and drawing your attention. “This place is mine alone, so it’s home for as long as you’ll have it.”
All the laughing, smiling, and talking is starting to make your face hurt, but you can’t seem to stop. “Make sure you stop by a market. I’ve been craving blackberry pie for the last thirty-odd years, and I might just have to make it myself.”
Azriel squeezes your hand. “Elain can make one. I think she’d like to meet you.”
“She needs more friends,” Cassian says. “She might even wander off and turn that weed patch over there into a garden.”
“Hey!” Mor laughs. “Those aren’t weeds, they’re the natural flora of the area!”
You shrug. “They’re pretty to me. But I wouldn’t mind some flowers.”
The blonde smiles with a roll of her shining eyes. “Fine, she can plant some flowers.”
“Pushover!” Cassian shouts with a barking laugh.
In the morning, you’ll wonder if dinner even happened. If you were really free, if Mor, Cas, and Az were really here, wrapping arms and hands around you like the past fifty years had been a bad dream. You’ll lay there thinking about the future, about the one person you had been longing to see most who hadn’t been there at all. You’ll think about how to move forward, how to build a new life, and how to find your place in lives already built. You'll wonder why no one responded to your father, what had happened to your letters, why no one seemed to notice a cell in the dungeons being used for fifty years. Why Rhysand told them you were dead.
But for now, you think only of the people who are there, who are keeping your thoughts light and your glass full. No matter what happens, you know you’ll be able to keep walking forward, in whatever direction that may be in. So for tonight, you let those worries sit in the corner of your mind for another time.
#acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fic#arlathavellan: acotar#arlathavellan: fanwork
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𝐵𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒾 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃
🩷 My 'mother in law' is Ashwini Sun in Lahiri, but she always felt super Bharani to me- she had an extremely abusive father, and she just adores her kids and even me. She's a wonderful cook, and soo beautiful! When I first met her I thought she looked so young and vibrant to have a son my partner's age. She went through so much (had really intense childbirth too) and continues to be a nurturing powerhouse for the family, she's just a gem. She's Bharani in galactic center mid-mula ayanamsa 🌌
🩷 My own mama was similar, she was a Bharani Moon- harsh childhood and raised by nuns in an institution (I've noticed this being a theme with Moon in the 10th sometimes). She didn't get that fairytale childhood and she wanted to give that to her babies so much. She was also very beautiful & a great cook. The girls and I used to always say she should go on MasterChef lol. She had me at 42 & my youngest sister at 47- so Bharani, the theme of 'delayed gratification' and the slow moving nature of the elephant yoni 🐘 Sadly she had unhealed demons you could say and there was some darker stuff, but I always recognise how much she gave to us and devoted to us. She bared so much to bring us into this world, rip mum 🤍🩷
Both are also 'exotic' women considering where I'm from, and Venusian Nakshatras relate to rarity and exoticism.
🤍 - I also have a close friend who is Bharani ascendant- gorgeous, 'exotic' by standards of where she lives, adores cooking & her children immensely
🤍my ex roommate had a Bharani placement & willingly handled the cooking for the both of us. I never asked her to or anything, she just loved cooking and sharing her food. She also had a very abusive upbringing.
The feminine strength Bharani exudes astounds me every time I meet a native. They truly go through so much and then often go on to nurture others and go out of their way to give them what they didn't get as a kid.
I'm a D9 Bharani Moon and I do see these themes in myself- I'm not a cook however though lol. I suspect I will be when I'm older though, as D9 activates & unfolds more by means of maturity & self-realisation.
Note: I'm vey anti generalisations since every chart and human being is unique- not every Bharani native will be this way or have these exact experiences depending on other influences and in part free will, but it's definitely a theme that's just wonderful to get to observe
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instagram
In case you were wondering: are the campus protests even important? Do they matter? Are they making a difference?
Yes, yes. They are making a difference.
Video description: Bisan, a young Palestinian woman, is speaking directly to the camera. She is wearing a black shirt and a keffiyeh.
Video transcript (I did my best but missed a few words)
I’m 25 years old. I’ve lived my whole life in Gaza Strip. I’ve never felt hope like now. Never. I mean it’s magical feelings running in my veins right now. In my head, I’m in Gaza city, in the north of Gaza Strip rebuilding my city after this genocide has ended. Even started to dream that my friends from Yafa, Haifa (unsure), majdal, are returning to their cities after being displaced for 75 years. These young heroes in universities at America and around the world are stronger than the last occupation in history. And for the first time in our lives as Palestinians, we hear a voice louder than their voices and the sound of their bombs and even stronger than their control in all aspects of our lives.
In the 70s, the occupation, Prime Minister said, after decades of killing Palestinians, stealing the lands, establishing the state of Israel over the lands that “the adults will die, and children will definitely forget.”
Wait. Is that the greatest (unsure) in history? Because it’s children and youth who are leading the movement for a free Palestine. everything they have on the line to demand justice and end of the genocide, and a new era of the world, not based on oppression, exploitation or colonialism.
Do you know what the best part is? demonstrations and calls for boycott in the academic institutions are not limited to a certain people from certain religion, culture, color, religion, race, or maybe economic level. We are all different so we can no longer be accused of anti-Semitism, serving some agendas from outside, we are just different people calling for the same thing. People to people and people to justice.
200 days I’ve spent escaping death every single minute were not in vain. And those 40,000 innocent souls were killed during these days were not also in vain. And this is the first time to feel and tell you this.
Keep going because you are our only hope and we promise we will hold our ground and tell you the truth always. And please, don’t let their violence scare you. In Arabic, we say (Arabic phrase). In English, that means “they don’t have other options, but trying to terrify and silence you” because you are demolishing decades of brainwashing. You are making the change. The real change. Their violence means that we’ve begun to affect them deeply. Believe me, we are in the bottom of this bottle and we’re very very close to the end of this genocide. Maybe even closer than anytime before. Thank you. Thank you for each one of you, because you made us, me and my people feel that we are free. We are heard. We’re going back to our homes, and land.
(Through tears) I have spent the whole night thinking about every video I see, you shouting for Palestine, you protesting for Palestine, you are dancing, singing for Palestine I feel it here in my head that I am going back. And I am free, and one day, we will celebrate it in, in Gaza together. Keep going and we will too. Salaam.
(if anyone can help with my transcript, it would be much appreciated!)
#Palestine#free palestine#wizard bisan#bisan owda#Gaza#columbia university#columbia protest#campus protests#yale university#emory university#video#described video#Instagram
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