#i hate my knees why do they look like that
Note
Hiiiii I love your writing!! May I request Azriel x Reader, where reader gets amnesia. She’s Illyrian and was hurt by Illyrian men, so she’s scared of Az because she doesn’t remember him. Then wonderful angst because he never thought she’d be afraid of him, so he avoids her and is heartbroken. Then something happens, maybe he’s forced to interact with her or he says something specific, and her memories come back, so happy ending! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write this, thank you!💙
Hi lovely! Thank you so much for reading my work and for your request! I hope you like the story! 💙
Divider is once again from @tsunami-of-tears, eternally grateful to you for your creativity!
Dazelroot Daze
An Azriel x Reader imagine
Warnings: angst, poisoning, swearing, allusions to abuse / previous SA.
"Rhys, I am not cut out for this kind of mission - why did you not send Nesta!"
You huff to yourself as you climb the uneven stairs through the prison, following closely behind Rhys. You hated coming in here, and hated having to interact with the Bone Carver even more. You patted your back pocket, checking your gifted bone for him was still there, before climbing yet another stairwell.
"Y/n, you know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessary. I can't exactly send Nesta in here even if she's only early in her pregnancy, they would sense it a mile off and she'd be a target. Not to mention, I don't fancy getting pummelled by Cassian for letting his pregnant mate in here".
You knew he was right, but it didn't make this any easier. You struggled through another narrow doorframe, trying to avoid smacking your wings against the wood, and stood in front of a metal gate. You hear Rhys hum to himself.
"What's wrong?".
"I've never seen a gate here before, this should be an open walkway".
You begin to feel uneasy as you see Rhys take a step back.
"Rhys?"
Before you can get another word out, you feel a powder cover your face, filling your nose and mouth, causing you to choke. You try to call out for help, but you can't get anything out, breathing becoming harder and harder. You hear Rhys distantly calling your name but you can't respond, can't move, all you can do is drop to the floor, your legs giving out from underneath you.
"Get Madja, now!"
Rhys' voice bellowed through the River House as he winnowed in carrying your lifeless body and placed your down on the living room sofa. The rest of the Inner Circle descended on the pair of you, including Azriel. When he saw your pale body, arm hanging off the sofa, his heart sank. He grabbed Rhys by the collar.
"What the fuck happened?"
Rhys didn't have time to answer before Madja appeared in the room, pushing everyone to the side and leaning over your body. Silence descended on the room as she ran tests, took bloods, checked your vitals - all the while your eyes remained closed and your body limp.
"She has been poisoned with a plant known as Dazelroot. It is highly toxic and can only be found in some very remote parts of the Spring Court. Thankfully, it looks like this particular strain was either incorrectly handled or extremely dried out, as it hasn't taken hold quite as potently as it should have. She will be ok, in that she will live, but we won't know the consequences until she wakes up".
"The consequences?", Feyre asks.
"I have never seen a person be poisoned with Dazelroot and live to tell the tale. We won't know what it will do to her until she wakes".
Feyre sobbed silently, her shoulders shaking. Nesta joined her, the sisters holding each other through their sadness. Cassian could only watch in horror as Azriel fell to his knees next to your body and cried into your shoulder.
"Madja, what can we do?", Rhys asks, wringing his hands.
"There's nothing, Rhys. We have to let her wake, and see what happens next. I'll be on hand, as will my assistants. Call us as soon as she wakes up".
Rhys shook Madja's hand and allowed her to leave, his grief weighing down on his shoulders heavily. It was his fault that you were in the prison, that he hadn't seen the trap beforehand, that you were the one to be poisoned. He tried to reach for Azriel, but Azriel swatted his hand away.
"Don't touch me", he gritted, his face still buried in your shoulder.
Rhys could do nothing but watch as his family fell apart in front of him.
It took 6 days for you to wake. 6 agonising days of your family watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that you would never again open your eyes. But you did.
Your eyes opened, and fell on Feyre's face.
"SHE'S AWAKE", Feyre called to your family, reaching out for your hand. You let her take it, but she couldn't overlook the confusion she saw in your eyes, the hesitancy of your body to let her touch you.
The room filled with your family and your eyes settled on a pair of Illyrian wings. Male Illyrian wings. Trauma racked through your body, memories of your life at the Illyrian camps, wing-clipping, assault, and you couldn't hold back your scream as you pulled your body up the bed, as close as you could get to the headboard.
"Y/n?", Azriel said gently, attempting to approach you. He froze when he realised it was him that you were trying to get away from.
Madja burst through the door at that moment, having been summoned by Rhys the moment he heard Feyre's shouts. She saw the blankness in your eyes the second she looked at you, and her eyes fell pityingly to Azriel.
"Hi y/n, I'm Madja, a healer here in the Night Court".
Your family looked at each other in pure confusion. You knew who Madja was. She'd been the family's healer for centuries. Why was she acting like you'd never met before?
Madja carried out her assessment before providing you a sleeping tonic. Once your body settled back into the pillows, looking more at peace than you had when you had woken up, she turned to Rhys.
"The Dazelroot has caused amnesia. She doesn't remember anything after her life after the Illyrian camps".
Rhys shook his head. "Ok, but when will her memory come back?".
Rhys saw the look on Madja's face and his stomach somersaulted.
"Will her memory come back?"
Madja placed a hand gentle on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Rhys, there's no way to know".
She turned to Azriel, tears falling down his cheeks. He had realised that you had forgotten him, forgotten your mateship, the love you had shared for centuries. You only remembered the trauma you had faced at the hands of Illyrian males, males that bore the same wings as him. He had realised, seeing the look on your face, that you were afraid of him.
"You can try to offer her gentle reminders. It might break through the amnesia cloud. But there's nothing more we can do".
Madja departed, leaving your family to process the news. You didn't remember any of them.
17 months later
It had been 17 months since the incident, and your memory hadn't come back.
Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Mor had made it their mission to rebuild the friendship that you had had with them - regularly taking you out for brunch, shopping, and nights out at Rita's. Over time, you developed a new bond with them, and had started to trust them.
You had also re-kindled your friendship with Rhys and Lucien, the males giving you distance but engaging with you as often as possible, mostly through Feyre and Elain.
But Azriel and Cassian, you couldn't be near. Their wings reminded you too much of the trauma you had faced in the camps. Reminded you that your own wings had been clipped. Reminded you of the males that had used you for their own entertainment. Anytime they tried to approach you, their wings pinned as tightly as possible behind their backs, your body began to involuntarily shake and your eyes would fill with tears.
It had broken Azriel. He had become a shell of the former male he was. He started to withdraw from family dinners, he gave up his morning training. Azriel had slowly started to descend into a downward spiral, feeling the mating bond cold on the other end. His family had tried their best to help, but Azriel wanted for nothing but you. He locked himself in his bedroom most days and nights, seeking solitude in the shadows.
That was why, when his family decided to visit Sevenda's restaurant that evening, Azriel had ignored the inviting knock on his door. He didn't want to make it harder for you seeing him sitting at the other end of the table. He waited for the footsteps to pad away before grabbing a bottle of Whiskey from the shelf and pouring himself a generous glass.
-
Several hours later, Azriel was sat in bed with his book when he heard commotion. It sounded like crying, but it was pained. He sat up, listening out, when he heard it again - this time closer to his door. He thought everyone was out at Sevenda's, or maybe Rita's now, but there was unmistakably someone wandering through the hallway.
Azriel cracked open his door and peered out. At the end of the hallway, gripping the window pane, he saw your small frame huddled over. The scent of blood filled the air. Azriel panicked. He knew how bad your cycles were from the centuries you had spent together, that you needed help desperately, but right now he was the only one in the house with you, and you were terrified of him.
"Y/n?", he called out gently, trying not to startle you with his presence. He watched you turn slowly, your eyes wide in alarm.
"It's ok, it's just your cycle", he whispered, raising his arms to show you that he was not going to hurt you. You whimpered slightly, clutching the window pane so hard your knuckles had gone white.
"Can I help you?", he asked, not daring to move. You looked at him, his wings, your body shaking. But you knew you were helpless, not sure you could get yourself back to your bed even if you tried with all your might. So, you took a deep breath, and gave him a timid nod.
Azriel walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, and when he reached you he carefully put a hand forward to touch your shoulder. You shuddered, but didn't pull away.
"I'm going to take you back to your room, ok?". You could only nod as Azriel scooped you into his arms and walked you slowly back towards your room.
He placed you down carefully at your dressing table and silently walked into your bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. Whilst the bath ran, you watched him strip the soiled sheets from your bed and replace them with fresh ones, putting a pair of your pyjamas neatly folded at the end. He then offered you his hand and guided you to the bathroom.
"Do you need some help?".
You didn't want to admit it, but you did. You could barely stand up under your own weight.
Azriel turned away from you to allow you to undress, holding a hand behind his back for guidance as you carefully lowered yourself into the bath. Once you were in, and hidden under the bubbles, you turned to look at him. At his wings. You had never known an Illyrian male to be so gentle. So calming. Even sat here alone in a bath with him in the room, you felt comfortable. You felt safe.
"Azriel?", you whispered.
"Would you like me to leave you be?" he asked, his back still turned to give you privacy.
"No".
You saw Azriel's shoulders sag slightly with relief, but he still kept his back to you.
"Please could you pass me that bottle over there, the green one?"
Azriel walked over to the counter to pick up the shampoo bottle and attempted to hand it to you behind his back, still not facing you. You giggled as he offered the bottle out to the empty end of the bath.
"It's ok, I'm hidden in the bubbles".
Azriel turned, his eyes not leaving your face, as he handed the bottle to you. You took it, pouring some into your hand, and he watched you wince as you raised your arms above your body to your hair, stretching your stomach.
"May I?", he asked quietly. You nodded, handing the bottle to him. Azriel knelt down behind your head, pouring the shampoo into his hands and massaging it into your hair. The moment his hands touched you, you felt a calming peace descend over you, and you closed your eyes to bask in it. You were about to ask him to rub it into the nape of your neck, your favourite place, when you felt his hands move there instinctively. A jolt went through your body, and Azriel jumped backwards.
"Are you ok?"
You turned to face him, his leathers covered in water, bubbles and shampoo suds, and looked down at his scarred hands. Visions flew through your mind of his hands in your hair, his hands offering to feed you grapes on your honeymoon to the Summer Court, his hands touching your body, his hands placing a ring on yours at your mating ceremony, his hands holding out your cup of coffee to you every morning - black, just how you liked it.
You reached out to take them, feeling every emotion come flooding back to you. A tug at your chest made you look up, as Azriel's filled with tears.
"My mate", you whispered.
"My mate", he replied, his head moving to rest on your forehead.
You held each other, the bath water turning cold and the bubbles melting away, allowing all your love and devotion to flow to each other through the bond. Forgotten, but never gone.
#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#a court of frost and starlight#azriel x reader#acotar imagine#acotar oneshot#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel#azriel shadowsinger x reader
379 notes
·
View notes
Text
demonstration
originally on ao3
based on this post by @fantasylandloser
pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]
word count: 1.9K
warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, college era art AHHH, friends to lovers, first time together, mostly smut, oral sex (reader receiving), art is a munch obviously, reader wears a bra and skirt
summary: Catching Art up on your adventures gets hard when he doesn't get your explanations, or your hand puppet examples. Looks like you just have to show him exactly what went down. Based on this post that i could not stop thinking about. :))
☆
“Oh my god, fuck you!”
Art chuckled from where he stood, watching as you tossed the t-shirt he’d balled up and chucked at you back in his direction. It fell harmlessly to the floor a foot from him, and you glared at him as he snickered, picking it up and putting it away.
You were visiting Art, your close friend from high school, at Stanford. At that moment, you happened to be explaining how an interaction at a party at your university had gone a couple weeks before. Art never really liked listening to you talk about guys- hence, the shirt thrown directly at your face when you’d started describing this particular frat boy to him in detail- but he’d given up complaining a while ago. It was either that or be honest about why he hated it so much, and that was never going to happen. So, he tidied up his room as you explained the lead up, the flirting, the stumbling up the stairs. He fell back parallel to you on the bed as you got to the “good part”, his head by your legs and an arm over his eyes, like he could block out the imagery.
“Anyway, I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, like when we were flirting, but then I was on him, kinda like-” You took a moment to sit up straight, grinning as art groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to see you better. He watched you attempt to mimic the position with your hands, your left hand being the guy you were talking about, your right being you.
To Art, it just looked like you were mashing your hands together. He looked up from your hands to see you raising your eyebrows at him, as if to ask if he was following. “Huh?” He said.
With an exasperated sigh and without another thought, you pushed yourself up on your knees and waddled over to him, swinging a leg over his body and hovering just over his torso. For a moment, Art just watched, bewildered, as you steadied yourself with your hands on either side of his head. He let himself fall back from his elbows, hands sliding up your hips and settling at your waist, catching momentarily on the fabric of your skirt. His fingers peeked just under the hem of your shirt. Your skin tingled where he touched you.
“... Like this,” you said finally, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, uh.” You moved your hands to his chest instead, careful not to push too hard (though with the muscle he’d acquired since he’d started playing tennis for Stanford, you were sure it bothered him much less than you thought). “More like this, I guess.”
Art nodded, quickly licking his lips before asking, “Then?”
You tried not to look at his mouth. “What?”
“Then what did you do?”
It finally hit you then: what the fuck were you doing, climbing all over your best friend to ‘show him’ how you and some guy had been fooling around a couple weeks ago? That would just mean fooling around with him, obviously. That wasn’t really the plan.
But, it was too late for your common sense to kick in now. There you were, your hips hovering over his, not quite touching yet. You watched his eyes dart down to your lips, then drag slowly back up to meet your gaze. You couldn’t wait here and think about what you’d gotten yourself into and how this would change your friendship forever, though you got the feeling he’d let you take as long as you wanted.
Then what did you do?
You steeled yourself, biting your lip and watching his lips part slightly as he tracked the action with his eyes. Then you took that moment to fully sit on his lap.
You could feel his chest expand beneath your hands with his sharp inhale, his eyes snapping down to your hips, then back up to your face.
“This,” you murmured. You’d intended for it to come out cocky, maybe even a little seductive, but you could hear the breathlessness in your own voice. You were trying your best to ignore the growing pressure where your hips met his, though really, it was hopeless.
Art’s ears were burning a bright shade of pink. The urge to gently nip at them crossed your mind, just for a moment. He cleared his throat. “Then?” His voice was almost a whisper, chest rising and falling unevenly with his nervous breathing. The way he was looking at you, like he wasn’t sure you were real…
Fuck.
You leaned forward, trying not to let your breath stutter at the friction caused by the movement, until your lips hovered just over his. Then you kissed him.
You pressed your lips together gently, lingering for a moment before pulling back by centimeters. His lips chased yours, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly, and you were right back on him, lips falling open against each other. A soft sound escaped him as your hips shifted against his, along with a contented sigh from you. You repeated the motion, reveling in the low groan he let out, followed by your name murmured into your mouth.
Art’s lips were soft. And he’d shaved recently, you thought, hands cupping his face. The smooth skin of his cheeks was a stark contrast to the calloused hands he was now raking over your thighs, your skirt pushed up around your hips. You broke away from his lips, kissing down his neck instead, listening to the noises he made whenever you left a mark, whenever you ground against him just right. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re- You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” You left another kiss just below his ear, before murmuring, “What is it?”
You could feel him all but shudder beneath you. “Fuck,” he groaned, then your name, before he looked you in the eye. You resisted the urge to dive right back in. “Let me eat you out,” he said, suddenly determined, though still flushed and dazed. “Please.”
All you could say was “What?” because, surely, this was one big dream.
“Please.” His hands hadn’t stilled, still rubbing shapes into your thighs, his hips rolling up against yours. “Can I?”
Your entire body was on fire. “Okay, yeah. Yes.”
He wasted no time flipping the both of you over, laying you against the bed so he could kiss down your neck. You barely had a moment to process, your hands moving to tangle in his hair, one of his knees slotted between your legs. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, prompting you to lift yourself slightly and help him get it off. Your bra came next. “You, too,” you murmured, pulling at his shirt and making him chuckle. He reached behind his head, tugging it off in one swift movement and abandoning it beside your shirt and bra on his freshly cleared floor.
One of his hands slid down your chest from your shoulders, enclosing one of your breasts, the thumb circling your nipple. You bit your lip and sighed, pulling him down for another kiss by the back of his neck.
Art let his hand trail from your chest down the sides of your stomach, then slotted his palm right between your legs, over your underwear. You gasped quietly, pulling away long enough for him to return his lips to your neck, your shoulders, your collar bone. You murmured a couple choice words as he started to move his palm, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. The dulled sensation was almost enough on its own, paired with the kisses he left against your chest. “Arthur,” you whined, tugging at his hair. “Don’t fucking tease me.”
A grin overtook his face at the use of his name, his hands only slowing down, tracing torturously slow circles over you. Art only snickered at your glare before hooking his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down and leaving you in your skirt pushed up to your waist. He watched you carefully as he slid further down so that his head was between your legs. His finger only traced a line from your clit to the bottom of your hole before whatever restraint he had was gone, and his mouth was on you.
Art’s tongue flattened against you, the warmth and friction making your head fall back as your eyes fell closed. “Fuck,” you moaned, hands threading into his hair as he answered with an equally obscene noise, muffled against you. ‘Hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe him, his mouth falling into a vague rhythm, eyes closed blissfully, whining into your pussy like it was doing him just as much good as it was you.
You thought about asking him to finger you while he worked, but his tongue prodded at your entrance and almost immediately, words escaped you. You brought one hand up to your face, clasping it over your mouth to muffle your moans, but Art stopped suddenly, watching your face. You whined your confusion, and he reached out to tug at your hand. “I wanna hear you. Let me.”
You blinked at him, chest heaving, and murmured “Alright,” before watching his head dive right back between your thighs, one hand still intertwined with yours. You had no choice but to moan unabashedly, your other hand busy pulling at his hair. His free hand was wrapped around the outside of your thigh, pushing it in towards his head, so tightly you were sure it couldn’t be comfortable. But there he was, continuing to move his tongue against you like there was nothing else he’d rather do, whining and whimpering like you were his first meal in weeks. “Fuck, Art,” you cried, barely keeping your eyes open so you could watch him move. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
He groaned at that, relenting the pressure of your thighs against his head just long enough to reply: “That’s it, baby, please.” If he had anything else to say, he couldn’t keep himself off of you long enough to finish, already pushing your thighs back against his head, nose bumping against your clit as he bobbed up and down.
It seemed like that was all it took, really. You squeezed his hand and his head embarrassingly tight as you felt yourself tip over the edge, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Art kept up his rhythm as you cried out his name, your hips rolling against his face. He didn’t stop even when you’d come down, chest heaving, until you basically pushed him off, desperate for a moment of relief.
He kept a hand on your thigh, the other untangling from yours to push his blonde hair out of his eyes and look at you. He was breathing as hard as you were, you noticed. His mouth hung open as he panted, the entire bottom half of his face coated in saliva and your arousal. Fuck, he was pretty like this. “‘S good?”
You shook your head, beckoning him toward you and pulling him down by the back of his neck when he was close enough. “You’re unbelievable,” you murmured, lips against his almost before you were even done speaking. You didn’t mind the stickiness. You pulled back to look at him, then glanced down to the tent in his pants. “Lemme return the favor.”
Art let out a breathless chuckle. “I don’t think I’m gonna last that long,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. “Not if you’re the one touching me. Not after this.” He gestured to the shine still on his face, to your thighs beneath him. Your face burned, and your smile was so wide that your cheeks hurt.
You shrugged. “Lemme try anyway,” you said, before bringing his ear down to your lips, nipping at the lobe gently. “Please?”
He couldn’t say no to you.
#wrote this instead of doing my final paper <3#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#challengers#art donaldson x you#art donaldson#art donaldson in stanford save me#art donaldson/reader#art donaldson/you#art donaldson fic#art donaldson imagine#challengers x reader#challengers imagine#challengers smut#challengers x you#mike faist x reader#mike faist smut#zee writes#my writing#challengers movie#challengers 2024#ao3
298 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kiss and make up ¡!
pairing: bnd legal line x gn!reader
warnings: smut +18, some toxic behaviour (ig idek atp), cursing, unprotected sex (be safe y'all 😔) and I think that's about it, lmk if I missed anything.
genre: smut. ♡
summary: how would be make up sex with boynextdoor members (legal line - everyone but woonhak)
note: I was going to post an ask I got ready for today but tumblr kinda glitched and it delete half of it so I need to re-write and edit it again :'( please enjoy this as an apology <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
sungho; make up sex with him can be overwhelming, and it most likely will, there could be two reasons for it: he is sooooo sorry for everything that he keeps whispering little "sorry, baby" into your ear or he's still kinda mad and just fucks you out of despair. either one you will feel so good and full that you will forgive him for anything you got mad for in the first place. it was sungho and his strong body and gifted cock against you, tbh who would go against that? his pretty foxy eyes looking down on you with so much appreciation, his lips glossy due to your own saliva and his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. he was so hot and it was just a small disagreement anyways, nothing you guys couldn't talk about after you were stuffed full like a pillow.
riwoo; i see him into some dynamic type of sex, nothing crazy but something that would consume lots of energy, like fucking you in some odd yet pleasant position with no rest, your knees numb and your arms trembling, but when it's make up sex he would be the sweetest and most cliche person, laying you on your back and caressing your cheeks while he left a trail of kisses all over your face, neck and your collarbone, mumbling how pretty you were and how much he hated to fight with you. he's just so sweet and good for you :(( you guys definitely talk about things and get to a solution together, it might be even faster than with other members since i feel like riwoo will understand and make his point clear so that it can be solved accordingly and fast.
jaehyun; he's crying. but not like a few tears shed, he's crying his eyes out whenever you guys have an argument about anything and everything and he really doesn't wanna see you afterwards because he feels so wronged. but when you knock on the door of your shared bedroom after giving him some space, he would make a light pout, looking away so you can know that he's still mad. it only took you two minutes of "baby, I'm sorry, it was not my intention to yell at you. It's not your fault that I'm stressed and I'm sorry I let it out on you, can you please forgive me?" and he will, cause jaehyun is like a little puppy to you, he would never say no, better yet, his answer was "i forgive you, y/n, how 'bout I help you getting rid of that stress, hm?" and then he made you come around his cock twice, giving you a third orgasm while eating you out and softly giggling at your wasted look, kissing you before helping you get a relaxing bath and then tuck you in bed.
taesan; I think I've said this before but I don't see him as a highly sex-drived person, not really understanding all the hype about it, yes, it was good and he loved to fuck you and make love to you, but it was not his top priority. yet I do believe he has his triggers. so when you guys got into this heated argument he realized something: he found your angry self very appealing, the way you yelled at him and pushed his chest making him grin a little bit at the fact that he could tower you and stop you in any moment but you felt that you controlled him. the whole discussion was about some girl that held his arm earlier and he did not move her, you were furious cause you knew how much he hated physical contact with most people and letting that random girl do it like that? you raged. "is this funny to you?" you said, getting him back from his thoughts. "she's no one, love, but I can show you why you are mine right now" you were confused, not following his words are they were so out of place. "you're so hot when you get cold" was the last thing he said before taking you into a deep kiss that ended up with you crying out his name while he made love slowly to you, pounding your cunt full while his soft and wet lips kissed your face. taesan was yours, all yours, no else mattered to him, he did not have any interest in other girls. it was you, you were his one and only.
leehan; where do I even start? he would listen to everything you have to say, quietly nodding to the points you're making and chewing his cheek to avoid saying anything stupid that would interrupt your failed version of an apology, because right now all he can think about is the away your boobs wiggle under your loose large tshirt with every move that your hands do, your tights looking so pretty that he couldn't avoid staring and you noticed, snapping your fingers in his face and rolling your eyes when he just smirked at you, throwing his hair back and sitting comfortably in the couch before spreading his legs a little bit. "if you're so sorry you could show me with actions, y/n" he was so cocky that you couldn't even be mad at him, straddling in his lap and moving your panties aside when he took his dick out and aligned it with your soaked entrance. "you're going to fuck me so good, aren't you, baby?" a soft kiss was pressed in your lips and he leaned back to let you ride the shit out of him. the so called argument long gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hope you guys enjoyed!! <33
#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor smut#boynextdoor x reader#leehan smut#leehan x reader#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader#riwoo smut#riwoo x reader#taesan x reader#taesan smut#sungho x reader#sungho smut
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
My enemy - Matt sturniolo
Dont like? Don’t read.
Summary: Matt sturniolo and y/n have hate each other for basically forever. Nick and Chris hate their bickering, they think y/n and Matt should just date. Y/n and Matt think that’s disgusting till….
Paring: fem!reader + dom!Matt
Warnings: use of y/n, SMUT, cursing, fingering, blowjob, handjob, p in v, a little dirty talk, rough sex, pet names kinda (like.. good girl, and I don’t know SO LOOK FOR YOURSELF.)
A/N: I broke my fucken phone like 2 weeks ago and just got it fixed yesterday 🙈
————————————————————
Y/ns pov
I’m sleeping over at the triplets house today, cause…..why not? I miss Chris and nick. Definitely not Matt. He’s a total asshole to me, but all sweet and charming in their YouTube videos. Pathetic. I open my phone and text nick. “Hey can I come for a little sleep over today?” I text. Almost immediately I get a text back. “Yeah sure. Just don’t be so fucking annoying with Matt.” He texts with an attitude. I think he’s pissed off.. I text back. “okay, I’ll be there in an hour.” I text. All I get is to be left on opened. Alright…
I grab all my shit for a sleepover. I get in my car and drive to their house. I get to their house but I’m not a fuck ass person to just walk in so I knock. Guess who opens the door. Matthew fucking sturniolo. “great.” He says. Asshole. He walks upstairs just leaving the door open for me to come in. I walk inside and take my shoes off and go and put all my shit in nicks room.
I walk into nicks room. Nobody.. what the fuck? I question. I put all my shit down and walk over to the couch where Matt is sitting. “where’s nick and Chris?” I ask. He looks up at me and sighs. “They’re out getting a bunch of shit for the store for a YouTube video.” he answers. “How long have they been gone?” I ask, considering nicks phone is right by Matt. “Like 2 hours, an hour ago?” He tells. huh? I texted nick 30 minutes ago and they have been gone for apparently 2 hours? Weird.
I sit on the couch, about 2 cushions away from him. “what the fuck are you watching?” I ask while confused. “Some random ass documentary, I’m not even watching it. What’s with all the questions?” He asks with an attitude. “I was just asking.” I tell. He gives me and weird look then goes back to his phone. I lay down and curl into a ball on the couch.
He glares at me and looks at me confused. “Why are you laying like that?” He asks me. “I don’t know, I’m comfortable..”I answer. He gives me a shrug and goes back to his phone. I pull my phone out of my pocket and go on it. I go thru my camera roll and find a sex tape of me for a while back, with my 2nd ever boyfriend. I forget my phone is on full volume. I click on the video and it blasts moans, the sound of me and his body’s slapping together.
My eyes go wide and I turn my phone off and Matt looks at me with wide eyes. “what the fuck were you watching…?” He questions. “nothing…” I say out of embarrassment.
End of y/ns pov
————————————————————
Matt’s pov
I hear y/ns phone blasting a sex tape of… sounds like her…? “what the fuck were you watching…?” I ask her. “Nothing.” She says almost immediately with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. We go quiet for a while, while I have a big ass tint in my pants from my dick… it’s bad from the last couple times this has happened. I let out a slight groan for only me to be able to hear.
God this fucking hurts. But I can do it here or get up cause she’ll think I’m fucking disgusting. Which it is…. She rolls over and looks down and sees my bulge thru my pants…
End of Matt’s pov
————————————————————
Y/ns pov
I look down at Matt’s pants and see he has the biggest boner ever.. “fuck… I’m sorry y/n. Im really fucking sorr-“ I shut him up by smashing my lips into his. I climb onto his lap, feeling his boner on my legs. He pulls away. “Please y/n..” he groans out. I know exactly what he wants. “Please what?” I tease him. “Use your mouth or anything..” he continues. I get off him and get on my knees in front of him.
I undo his belt and slide his pants down along with his underwear. His dick springs out, slapping his stomach. I grab his dick and kitty lick his tip. He groans to the feeling. I go down and start bobbing my head. He’s a moaning mess at this point. “F-fuck y/n..” he groans out. I let out a little groan to him moaning my name, sending waves of pleasure through his body.
“P-please..” he begs me for more. I look up at him and smirk. He makes a makeshift ponytail with his hands for my hair. Matt pushes my head down a bit, making me gag a little. “Oh fuck y/n..” he groans again. I start pushing my head a bit more down, making me gag more.
“Fuck! I’m going to cum!…” he moans but also yells out. I bob my head on e last time and he shoots his warm load down my throat. “g-good girl…” he whimpers. I smile at the nickname. He grabs me and picks me up and walks to his room to continue. He lays me down on his bed and closes and locks the door even though no one’s home.
He crawls up towards me. He hovers above me. He kisses me all around my neck. I lift my head up for him to be able to kiss my neck more. He kisses all over till he finds my sweet spot. He sucks and licks my pure skin. He leaves a big purple hickey that’s very noticeable. No one will know.. right? He slides his fingers down to my aching core. Sliding my pants down along with my underwear. He starts pulling my shirt up revealing my purple lace bra. He smirks when he sees my bra. “Cute bra…” he smiles. I blush from his compliment. He slides his fingers along my curves.
He gets down to my core, slowly rubbing my clit. I let out a very soft moan. I kiss his soft lips as he fingers my core. He shoves his two fingers, the middle and ring, right into my core, I let out a moan making him groan. I kiss him deeply as he kisses me back.
He pumps his fingers in and out of me making me whimper every time he pumps his fingers. F-fuck Matt…” I moan. I bury my face into his neck. He pumps fingers in and out of me faster making me and whimpering and moaning mess.
“Sh-shittt” I moan. “M’ close!” I yell out. He pumps his fingers about three more times, hitting my g spot each time. “Fuck! Please! Matt!” I scream out. I release all over his two fingers. He pulls out his fingers. He licks off all of my release off his fingers. “mm you taste good.” He tells me while smirking.
He gets on top of me again. He kisses me on my neck. “All fours, ass up.” Matt says with a controlling tone. “Hmugh please…” I moan out. He lines himself up between my wet folds. “P-please don’t tease Matt.” I whimper out. “Be patient.” He tells. I nod my head and he slides him self in. I let out a moan as he burys his length into my core.
“so tight.” He whispers out. He thrusts his hips at a fast pace, his hips smacking into mine making an echo in the room. “Fuck…” he groans. “Mhughm fuck! Matt!” I moan loudly. He groans from me moaning his name. He pounds into me like theirs no tomorrow. I make a little noise every time his skin slaps mine. “are my good girl!?” He yells out at me. “Y-yes!” I yell back. He shoves himself deeper. I moan louder, my eyes going to the back of my head. He smacks my ass, making an echo sound around the room. I bury my face into the pillow. F-fuck..y/n.” he groans softly.
He pounds me till I yell out “fuck I need… fuck! I need to cum!” I yell out. “just wait.” He dominants. “W-what?..” i whimper. “just wait.” He says. He pounds me a couple for times till the point where now I’m feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated. “M-Matt please!” I yell. “be a good girl and cum all on my dick.”
He finally tells me. I feel the knot snap in my stomach. I release all over his dick. I feel his dick twitch inside of me. “F-fuckk!!..y/n!” He moans loudly. Digging his nails into my hips while shooting his hot load into my cunt. Painting my spongey walls white.
He pulls out and claps beside me. “damn.. didn’t think you were that good.” He tells. “Me either..” I agree with him. We hear the front door open and hear yelling. “Matt! Wer- what the..? Y/n!?” Chris yells from the front door. I look at Matt. He looks back at me. He starts getting up but kisses my lips. He finishes putting his clothes on. He winks and leaves and closes the door behind him. I just had sex with my enemy.
————————————————————
IM DYING.
idk I’m bored now🙂
NOW I HAVE TO GO WRITE MORE😔
BYE.
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
COOPER ‘THE GHOUL’ HOWARD X MALE READER
Headcanons!!
I really recommend watching fallout, I’ve been so in love with it and especially my man Cooper.
Warnings!! ⚠️ Some headcanons will include smut!! It’ll be a mix of fluff and smut!!! And some will before the nuke. Includes Gn, FTM of Afab reader, and male reader. ⚠️
— He has a hate and love relationship with you whenever you mock his accent. It really throws him off during a argument. It makes him lose his thought process.
— When your not doing it in a middle of a argument he finds it cute and attractive. He starts chuckling and smiling like some teenage girl.
— He threatens you sometimes saying he’ll tie you up and leave you for dead or raiders or scavengers to find and kill.
— He’s been protective of you even before doomsday. He hates anyone even standing to close to you, or when you help survivors.
— Often puts his cowboy hat on you and tells you the ‘Cowboy hat rule’ and you fall for it every time
— You and him making out while his bounty is on the floor tied up. You and him disappearing off somewhere leaving the bounty just to come back with clothes a mess and wrinkly with either you or him with a limp or wiping the corners of yours mouths.
— Him manhandling and being rough with his bounties to show off to you and to get you jealous.
— He often called you inside his dressing room to make out one last time before he went out and got on camera or two have a quick fuck trying to stay quiet so no one hears.
— He kisses you during an argument to shut you up.
— He really has a small temper and accidentally says something either hurtful or goes off on. He apologizes by going on his knees and taking your hands apologizing with his accent.
— When having sex and he gets all overstimulated he whines and his thick southern accent becomes all cracky and whining becoming completely pathetic.
— He loves it when you become out of no where dominant.
— He secretly gets off to you just holding his lasso or any type of rope. He himself doesn’t know why it turns him on so much at the sight.
— When he’s being the dominant one he would humiliate you with his harsh and cold words forcing you to accept them and sometimes when he wants you to repeat them for him. Telling you what you are.
— Him finding a cowboy hat not exactly like his but it’s something as you two walk around in the wasteland in cool cowboy survivor like outfits.
— Really good with his fingers.
— You probably found him first after the nuke and such looking at the damages to the his body and skin. You comforted him for years telling him that he’s still the handsome dashing movie star Cooper you first met.
— He really hates when you two have to spilt ways, even if it was for months or the smallest a day or hour. He really is attached to you and wants to be at your side every second wanting to make sure your okay. He wants to the one to protect you.
— Since you two are living in the apocalypse he rarely sees you completely lean. So the first time he saw you without dust, or blood or dust he fell in love with you all over again. Touching your body carefully and worshipping you and also like some damn dog rubbing his hard on against you.
NOW VAULTER AND TRANS (FTM) AND AFAB READER.
— If you were a vaultie he often called you it and makes fun of your outfit. He treats you exactly what he thinks of the vaulters.
— He was the first person in years, ever since you got in the vault to have sex with. It was like losing your virginity all over again just to now some bounty hunter.
— Duding a argument he always has this one like that “Your a vaultie, you wouldn’t understand.” He knows it pisses you off but he doesn’t care especially during an argument but at the end of it he always feel regret.
— He lasso’s and drag you you around since your a vaultie and doesn’t trust you enough to be in the Outland by yourself. He treats you like some newborn baby.
— The first time you two met you two were always going back and forth over and over to the point you got him so angry he shoved you down and forced you on your knees and fucked you right there in the outside in the middle of the open it wasn’t like anyone would see. But you were fresh out of the vault and hadn’t had sex in forever you had orgasm and orgasm he felt like the king of the world.
— He helps you with dysphoria by finding the most masculine clothes he finds off the people he kills and gives it to you as some sort of gift.
— Doesn’t hesitate for a second and shot someone the moment they misgender you went off their tongue shooting them right in the chest then head.
— He would wrap your chest with bandages.
— Whenever your feeling down he would and very willing to eat you out whenever he can. He would bury his face in it licking and sucking your clit while he fingers you like his life dependent on it. He wouldn’t even care about his own pleasure and only focused on you. He calls your clit your cock and loves to suck it.
— He loves seeing his cock move in and out of your pussy, he loves rubbing it against it. Always promises just to do the tip but ends up slipping it all inside. He fucks you while rubbing your clit and loves getting you all wet and excited to make you put your clothes back in.
— He would stay up all night comforting you whenever you have second thoughts about being a man.
THE END
#x male reader#x top male reader#x reader#x ftm reader#x trans male reader#x transmasc reader#x trans reader#fallout#fallout series#fallout tv show#the ghoul x reader#The ghoul x male reader#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper Howard x male reader#the bear club#The bear club
82 notes
·
View notes
Note
okok idk if you've heard the spoiler happening where colin is upset with pen and ends up at a brothel?? i've seen it twice now and uh. im really hoping it isn't true. it made sense in the first part when he was still figuring things out, but after? i really don't think they will cause that's not in colin's favor at all, but why would someone say it if it wasn't true??
do you have any other information on it and do you think it's true?? (really hoping you can quell my irrational anxiety about this lol)
thank you!!
Girl dm me about this please cause I wanna hear what you’ve heard.
But in all seriousness- I am incredibly anxious about this too! I got my information about it from a Nicola and Luke interview where they imply something happens in part two that Nicola hated, and then Nicola goes “it’s not like he’s cheating on her..”
And then Luke said something like, “but he’s had to watch her all season..”
My hope is that it’s maybe at a ball and he dances with someone else in front of her after the Whistledown reveal. I would still dislike it because we’ve seen pen look longingly at Colin dancing with others for two seasons already, but it’d be far better if it meant nothing and was pointed, then it being an actual consideration.
If they did decide to do something with the brothel, even him just considering visiting a brothel, I am going to be so incredibly pissed off. I don’t care how upset or betrayed he is- cheating or even just considering cheating is so so disgusting and so unlike Colin.
Also I’m sorry but Whistledown is not that bad. I understand where the anger and feelings of betrayal would come from, but she has reasons. She was young and silly and went about it the wrong way but she at least has reasons for what she’s done.
If Colin were to do anything, however small, even if it was just implied possible cheating, there’s no reasoning there. There’s no ‘I did it for the grand scheme of things’ or ‘I was young and naive’ or even, ‘I felt powerless and overlooked.’
But in happier news (because a lot of this is just me spiralling) I think they’re clever enough not to do that. Bridgerton is kind of the ‘man on his hands and knees for woman he loves’ show, and it’s been extremely praised for embracing the female gaze in romance and sex alike.
.. and If they do go through with any of this, trust that the polin fanfic legends WILL be writing some great canon divergence, so there’s always that.
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
He didn’t know what possessed him to blurt it out, but the words spilled from his lips, “You’re attracted to me.”
The cold blue eye flicked up, and then back down at the book. “You’re attractive.”
A frustratingly typical non-committal answer.
“You know what I mean,” Dick snapped, releasing his stretch and pushing up on his knees. Slade didn’t look at him, not even when Dick loomed above him. “Slade.”
“What are you fishing for?” Slade asked, still intent on his book.
“You said—you told them,” Dick started, and stopped. He remembered the day they’d come into the cell, and the way Slade casually talked about him like he wasn’t right there—“You told them you wanted me. It’s true. You do want me.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere, kid?”
“You don’t—” Dick didn’t know how to make the right words come out. Slade was staring at him now, attention off the book, and even if Dick shut up, he knew that the older man would tuck the memory of his flustration away. “If you really wanted me, you’d fuck me more often,” Dick said bluntly.
Slade’s eye narrowed. “Do you want me to fuck you more often?” he asked blandly, and Dick immediately snarled. “Don’t give me that, kid. You’re the one who started this conversation.”
Dick breathed, in and out, and resisted the urge to try and punch Slade. He wouldn’t succeed anyway, collar or not.
“Why don’t you fuck me more often?” The question was quieter than Dick intended, though at least he hid the rawness. If Slade was a monster, it would’ve been easier to endure. If he was the manipulative jackass Dick knew he was, taking advantage of the opportunity of Nightwing at his feet, Dick could understand. But Slade kept the fucks almost military-precise, like they were just another thing to check off his schedule. Meals, shower, training, and every other day, fuck Nightwing.
Slade’s face tightened, and Dick prepared himself for another sarcastic non-answer, but Slade just turned back to his book. “Because being forced to put on a show is not my idea of a good time.”
Dick made a high, unamused laugh. “I didn’t realize my consent mattered to you so much.”
“I wasn’t,” Slade said evenly, “Talking about you.”
Dick stilled. Something hot was burning in his stomach, tight and furious. “Not enjoying yourself?” Dick asked, his tone dark and poisonous, “Not getting off to dominating me—oh wait, you are. I have proof of that.”
“I mastered control of my body a long time ago,” Slade said, disinterested again, and Dick’s fingers itched with the desire to reach out and claw out his remaining eye.
“Do you really expect me to believe that this isn’t entertaining for you?” Dick spit out.
“I like a challenge,” Slade said levelly, not looking up at him, “I like a fight. Fucking someone who’s limp and sobbing is unappealing.” His tone took a harder edge, “One of us is wearing the collar, kid, and it isn’t you.”
That hit more painfully than if Slade had reached out and slapped him. “Why do you fuck me if you hate it so much, then?” Dick hissed.
“Why do you let me fuck you if you hate it so much?” Slade turned the question back onto him. Let me fuck you. Jesus fucking Christ. Like Dick had a fucking choice.
His fingers curled into fists as his heartbeat throbbed angrily in his skull. “The choice is rape or death,” he said more evenly than he felt.
Slade tilted his head, as if to say ‘there you have it’.
“You won’t die if you don’t fuck me,” Dick snarled.
“No,” Slade looked up at him, ice blue eye pinning him in place, “But you will.”
~#~
Dick opened his eyes to meet an icy blue one, the one he’d been dreaming of in the stupor exhaustion dragged him into, more sticky and draining than actual sleep. The only thing he dreamed of, because all the others were too implausible in this hellhole, unable to coalesce even in his imagination, but this was close enough to hope for.
Slade would not come, would not protect him, would not help—
“Robin,” cracked past bloody, crusted lips, a rasp of a whisper that Dick forced out.
But he might kill him.
Dick didn’t want to die. He wanted to go home, back to his family, back to his life, but he was dying anyway, and he preferred Slade’s instantaneous option over being raped and torn apart, again and again and again until his body just gave up.
In his dreams, Slade always agreed. He looked angry or gentle or blank, but he cupped Dick’s face in his hands and jerked—and then Dick woke back up to his hell.
This time, Slade hesitated. He blinked in what looked like shock, before it flickered through upset and hardened into grim determination. “Okay, little bird,” he murmured, oh-so-soft, and one forearm braced against his shoulders, not cupping his face, and the other fit around his jaw.
Wait a minute.
Dick squinted at this uncharacteristic change, why—Slade’s face was splattered with blood, and gaunter than he remembered.
Fingers tensed on his jaw.
“Stop,” burst forth, his heart suddenly hammering as he raised a shaky hand to grab Slade’s arm. “Stop, no, Slade, don’t.”
Slade relinquished him easily, and Dick propped himself up on an elbow and tried to blink the exhaustion from his eyes.
The room was a bloodbath. Most of it was concentrated near the open door, the bodies outside, but there was also a spreading stain on the bed, where Adams’ mutilated corpse was strewn over the sheets.
Freshly mutilated, because Adams had definitely used him just hours before, and yet he was dead and Slade was covered in blood.
Dick snapped his gaze back to Slade, who had retreated a couple of steps, watching him silently. The sling was gone, the broken cheekbone healed, all the injuries vanished like they’d never been there, but there was something broken in his expression, and Dick didn’t know what it was.
He did know one thing.
“You came,” Dick choked past the growing lump in his throat, struggling to straighten upright with weak, spasming arms. He hadn’t dreamed—sparing his life the first time had been a whim, but this—this destruction Slade had wrecked to get Dick back—
Dick was all out of tears, but the harsh gasps shuddering through him were the closest equivalent of sobs his battered body could manage. “You came,” he whispered again, reaching out a trembling hand, and Slade closed the distance between them and allowed Dick to tighten a hand in his shirt as he slowly, carefully, gently picked him up.
Dick wanted to tell him it didn’t matter. Every part of Dick ached and burned, Slade’s care wouldn’t make a difference. But he just buried his face against Slade’s shirt and held on tight.
~#~
Dick never left Slade’s reach.
At first, he was injured enough that it wasn’t apparent, Slade hovering solicitously over him as he recovered his strength, bit by bit, spooning soup into his mouth, practically carrying him to the bathroom, dressing his injuries. Soon, Dick had enough strength to be able to walk shakily to the far wall and back, though he frequently had to pause along the way.
Before, he would’ve taken the opportunity to sit in the far corner, as far away from Slade as he could get, back turned to show his visible displeasure. Even later, when the days settled into a rhythm, Dick grew more comfortable with the space but still kept away, anger churning inside of him after each of their public fights.
Now, he stayed on the bed, Slade in sight if Dick wasn’t already pressed against him, and Slade escorted him to the bathroom for every trip. The handful of times Slade had gone to the training arena, Dick had sat on the nearest bench and kept his white-knuckled grip on the wood, barely even daring to blink.
Every time he did, every time he looked away, he remembered the door buzzing open, too many hands overwhelming him, fighting punished painfully, the high, shrieking thought that if Slade had been there, Dick would’ve never gotten hurt. It made his breaths run fast and high, his chest squeeze painfully, and his heart pound in his ears as terror blanketed him.
He knew it wasn’t healthy, knew that Slade wasn’t his white knight, wasn’t even a good person, that the man had stained his hands with more blood than anyone he faced in the arena, but to Dick’s traumatized senses, he registered as safe.
Slade’s patience with Dick’s clinging, however, finally ran out.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Dick said quietly, his gaze focused on the strings he was weaving together. Red and black. Maybe he could impress Jason with his bracelet-making skills when he got out.
“So go,” Slade rumbled from beside him, “You don’t need me holding your hand anymore.”
The strings fell through suddenly trembling fingers. Dick looked up, and Slade turned to look down at him, raising an eyebrow.
He wasn’t breathing too fast, wasn’t shaking, but Slade must’ve seen something on his face because he lowered the book to look at Dick properly. “I’ve gone over every inch of that bathroom,” he said, calm and even, “No one can get out, much less in.”
That...was true. The ensuite had only one door, and no windows. Slade would stop anyone who tried to enter the cell. Dick was as safe as he could get.
His throat was still locked up. He didn’t know why. He stared up at Slade, mute, pleading for something he didn’t understand, and Slade’s expression roiled before it settled to a fractured blankness.
“I can’t protect you, kid,” Slade said quietly, and it sounded like it hurt him to admit it.
Not like this, his furrowed brow told him. Not with a collar around his neck, suppressing the meta powers that made him one of the deadliest people on Earth. Not locked inside a fighting ring used for someone’s sick entertainment. Dick had gotten a crash course in the fact that Slade wasn’t invincible and couldn’t be everywhere.
Dick’s eyes were beginning to prickle.
Slade sighed, and closed his book. “Fine,” he grumbled, getting off the bed, “Let’s go.”
~#~
“Did you get injured worse in that last match?” Dick asked, curled up in Slade’s arms and still coming down from the panic attack he’d gotten when the door buzzed open to admit Slade post his infirmary check-up.
Slade healed ridiculously fast, Dick couldn’t think of any injury that would’ve kept him out for days, and yet he hadn’t been there when Adams and the others had come prowling.
“They kept my collar on,” Slade replied, his tone terse.
Dick twisted to look up at Slade. “What?”
Deathstroke was one of their most valuable fighters, a great draw for spectators, and they usually took off his collar—while he was completely drugged up—to allow him to rapidly heal any injuries he got. It was one of the main points of vulnerability that existed in the whole set-up, and if Dick could just figure out how to use it, they’d be free.
There were very few problems that couldn’t be solved by pointing a determined Deathstroke in its direction.
It was also unfortunately the reason Slade stuck to his no-holds-barred fighting style, willing to tank attacks to keep on the offensive, and some part of Dick went cold as he remembered how easily the cell door had opened.
Like someone had unlocked it.
“They did it on purpose,” Dick said distantly, his grip tightening on Slade, “They—me—they did it on purpose. Why?”
“Could be several reasons,” Slade said levelly, and he maneuvered Dick until he was curled up more tightly in Slade’s lap. “They wanted to get back at me, put me in my place, remind me that I’m not in charge.”
Well, that backfired spectacularly, then, every single one of their fighters was now utterly terrified of Slade.
“Or they could’ve despised you. Thought that you were too unbroken.”
Partially succeeded on that account. All it took was a goddamn door opening to send Dick into a panic attack.
“Or,” Slade said quietly, “The ones that fancy themselves as intelligent, they probably wanted to see what I’d do.”
How Slade would act, to come back and discover that his plaything had been stolen. How attached he was to Dick. Possessiveness didn’t equal protectiveness, after all, and Dick had the sinking feeling that they revealed too much with Slade’s rescue and care.
“And that doesn’t bother you?” Dick whispered, “That they’re studying your actions?” That they know they can use me against you?
“No,” was the casual response, “Because I’ll kill them all.” A callused thumb brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen into Dick’s face. “The cleverer ones would’ve argued against provoking me at all.”
Dick could’ve said something, about murder and justice and one not equating the other. He didn’t.
Justice—trials and laws and enforcement—was the privilege of a civilized society. The arena didn’t meet the list of requirements.
“And the cleverest ones?” Dick asked, resting his head against Slade’s chest, “What did they do?”
“Run,” Slade murmured, “The moment they saw me in the arena.”
#my snippets#sladick#captivity au#gladiator au#they're both captured by *handwaves* in some sort of alien gladiator circle#fuck or die#protective slade#suicidal ideation#these are snippets from different parts of the story
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
More of older Kate and younger Anthony. It's a tragedy we don't have more fics of that age gap. It's always older Anthony - which is great but I would like to see how it could work with older Kate. So many possibilities. I hope one day you wiil be brave enough to give that trope a try. Maybe you will inspire other writers to do so too.
Here's a little more!
--
“Hey, Kate.”
She really wished he wouldn’t use that fucking voice on her. The soft, rich one that made her knees go a little weak and blood rush to her face, as if he literally wasn’t just saying hello.
“Hi, Anthony,” she said evenly, taking a sip of her Moscato. “Good to see you.”
His warm eyes flicked over her body, subtly, but not fast enough for Kate not to notice. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Truthfully, she felt a bit awkward. She hadn’t worn this dress in at least eight years, on Tom’s arm at some work event. It was drapey silver fabric, with jeweled straps and a high slit in the back. Kate knew it still looked good, knew her figure hadn’t changed much in that time, but she felt a little like she had then. Like she was playacting to fit in among a bunch of people she had nothing in common with. “Thank you. You look nice as well.”
Nice was a hilarious understatement. He was wearing a white button-down, rolled up to his elbows, and navy trousers that made his arse look like a work of art.
Well. He’d obviously worked hard for that arse; he did deserve to show it off, she supposed.
He smiled crookedly, resting his elbow against the table, and Kate took a breath. The last thing she needed was for Anthony Bridgerton to pay any actual attention to her. His glances from across the room were enough to fuck with her head. If he was going to linger around her and tell her how beautiful she looked, things were going to fall apart quickly.
“You didn’t look like you were having a great time,” Anthony said, some of the artificial charm leaking from his voice, replaced with genuine curiosity. “I thought you might like some company.”
Kate met his eyes. He was watching her intently, as if he had honestly been concerned about her, and-
Fuck, he was good. It was no wonder that women were burning their knickers for him left and right. He had multiple tricks up his sleeve - if they didn’t fall for the swagger, he swung to personal interest.
“I’m having a great time,” she said with a shrug. “Thank you, though.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been standing in this corner half the night.”
Kate’s jaw tightened. No way he had been watching her that closely. It was true, though - Violet had pleaded with her to come, but she had hostess duties and could hardly cling to Kate’s side all evening. “I think there are other people here who are actually seeking your attention.”
He frowned. “Who, the people from my father’s company? It may not surprise you to learn that they’re all dicks.”
That did not surprise her, but Kate scoffed anyway. “I was thinking more like your girlfriend over there.”
Anthony’s eyes shot to where she had gestured - the pretty young brunette who was wearing a skintight black leather dress and flashing a truly impressive fuck me gaze.
“Siena’s not my girlfriend,” he said, seeming annoyed at the insinuation. “She’s a friend of the family-.”
“But you’ve slept with her, right?” Kate interrupted. He looked a little taken aback, and even she couldn’t account for why she said it with such disdain. “I’m friends with your mum. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me.”
Eyes growing heated, Anthony took a step toward her, until they were eye to eye and all she could smell was his citrusy cologne and the bite of whiskey on his breath. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”
“You know what my mum has told you about me. You’ve met me a few times now. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me, Kate. You’ve seen enough to decide not to give me a chance.”
Heat pricked at the back of her neck, something dangerous brewing in the static air between them. “Give you a chance to do what?”
“To get to know you,” Anthony murmured, his eyes dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “To spend time with you.”
Kate couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what else to do but laugh, at the ridiculousness of the situation, at the unbearable tension that strung them together. “You’re twenty-five.”
“Does that matter?”
“Do you even know how old I am?”
“You’re thirty-seven,” he said easily, not sounding fazed in the slightest. “And you’re smart, and funny, and fucking gorgeous, and I…god, Kate. If you had any idea, the dreams I’ve had of you.”
A shiver worked up her spine at the way he was looking at her. The face of a man dying to act out his filthiest fantasies. And something in her ached to let him.
Kate swallowed. This had already gone too far. She should have cut it off the second he approached her. “You need to stop.”
“Because you want me to? Or because you have some arbitrary reason why you think we shouldn’t?” he challenged. Reaching out, Anthony slid his large hand over her forearm, goosebumps erupting over her skin. “Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want a single thing from me, and I’ll walk away and never bother you again.”
It was so easy. To just push the words past her lips, I don’t want you. You’re not worth what I could lose. Give up on this foolish notion of us, before it bites us both in the arse. He needed to hear it, and Kate would only be giving him the out that he would seek himself, sooner or later.
Instead, she brushed his hand off her arm, shaking her head minutely. “Good night, Anthony.”
And as she slipped around him, Kate forced herself not to look back.
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
can you write an angsty smut that obviously has a happy fluff ending (because my heart wouldn't handle if it didn't) where the reader ends up getting hurt during sex and uses their safe word? You can choose the man 🤭 I was thinking loki or Jake but it can really be any of his characters
I'm gonna be honest, idk about this one, it got... personal 😖
But I hope you like it, baby <3
Warnings: blood, mentions of a terrible ex-boyfriend (implied SA, but not described), use of safeword, lots of angst with a happy ending <3
Like 2.3k words
---
You knew David had one of those days at the station by the way he barely spoke before he was all over you.
It wasn't uncommon for him to come home from work and immediately start a make out session. Somedays he would drop to his knees and eat you out for hours. Sometimes he would rip your clothes off and manhandle you like a doll... doggie style was his favorite for this occasions.
That's where you found yourself now. It was very late and you were very tired. Still, when he walked into the room, you knew you weren't going to sleep so soon.
You didn't mind. Obviously, even when he acted like that, he always, always made sure you came. Made sure you felt really good... he didn't ignore for a second the spots he knew you liked. Pleasing you was probably the part that calmed him down the most.
But tonight you didn't really... feel like it? It was weird, David always lighted up a flame in you with the touch of his hand. And that's why you allowed him to do what he needed to do. Well... you wouldn't have to do anything, just... let him have his way, and you would get tons of pleasure from it, so why not?
You weren't sure why not... why you were not wet. Why the pain was so unbearable when he entered you. It hurt more that your first time with him.
"Ouch!" You complained.
"Sorry, baby, just..." He tried to start moving, but the friction was just... so uncomfortable. "Are you okay?"
He thought all he had to do was prepare you better. He spit on his fingers and began to stroke your clit. But God, it felt TERRIBLE.
He pulled out. Shoved two fingers inside. Your head started to spin. You were almost disgusted by it all... so overwhelmed... the room was suddenly too hot and you couldn't breath...
"RED!" You yelled.
David froze. You had agreed on a safe word very early on the relationship, since you had... a little trouble with intimacy. But it never even crossed your mind using it... you never needed it. What the hell was going on? He removed his fingers quickly, and sat you up, desperately looking for any signs of bruises on your body.
"Dave..." you called, feeling sick.
His eyes followed your gaze to the sheets under you. There was blood. Not a lot of it, but still... it triggered your most horrible memories. And David knew that.
Before you were able to give yourself completely to him, you confessed that you didn't have the best experience with intimacy during your previous relationship. Your ex just didn't know how to get you into it and you were too afraid of saying no to him most of the time, scared he wouldn't love you anymore... and all that caused you to get hurt sometimes. Bleeding was almost routine in your sexual life. But it never had happened ONCE while you were with David. He was the complete opposite from your abusive ex. He cared about your pleasure more than about his own. He never forced you to do anything. He studied every little reaction from your body, to know what you liked. And he never made you afraid to tell him how you felt. But seeing that little red stain on the mattress made you sick. No, this can't be happening again...
"Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry, hey... look at me, please..." The pain in his voice was obvious. He was thinking the same thing as you. He hated your ex more than you. When you told him about all the things he did, he wanted to kill him. And now... he was disgusted with himself.
You were numb. You didn't even want to cry. You simply disconnected from reality. You weren't sure how much time passed, but the growing desperation in David's voice indicated it was a lot.
"Talk to me, please, please, baby..." He grabbed the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to grab you instead, bring you close and apologize for hours, but he wasn't sure if it was okay to touch you.
"You said..." Your voice was low and weak as you spoke. "You said this would never happen to me again."
"Angel..." Part of him was relieved that you spoke, but those were definitely the most painful words he had ever heard. "I can't tell you how fucking sorry I am."
"Want to be alone." You requested, emotionless.
"No..." He shook his head. "I can't leave you alone like this, you're not okay, baby, let me help, please..."
"Just need some time." You insisted, not looking him in the eye.
You went through so many things during these years you and David had been together. And during every single one of them, he was there to help. But how could he help now, when it was all his fault? That's all he could think of. Of course you wouldn't want him around. You're a fragile, precious flower, while he's was a violent, cruel, heartless man... he thought he could leave all that at the station everyday to come home to you, but he can't. That's who he is.
"Alright." He whispered, getting out of bed. He fixed his clothes and his first instinct was to kiss your forehead as he stood up beside you. But he couldn't do that. He felt like you would break if he touched you. And the worst part was that you felt the same way.
He walked away from the room, and you waited until he shut the door behind him to let the tears fall. You were so confused. He hurt you. Never in a million years you'd imagine that.
At the same time... it wasn't like it used to be with your ex. He stopped immediately when you asked. He didn't know... still, should he be this rough without a warning? Shouldn't he check for signs before anything? Was it fair to be the one he used to relieve his anger when you weren't the one who made him mad?
Well... it can be hot sometimes. When you are in the right mood, it's something you really enjoy... and you have a safe word for times like this, so... can you blame him? How would he know this time was different?
It was all too confusing and you had no idea how you actually felt. You didn't know what to do. You trusted David with your entire heart and you knew that he would take a bullet for you, it was obvious he didn't do it on purpose. But miscommunication is the most dangerous thing in a relationship and you can't let that happen again.
You stood up and removed the stained sheets from the bed, putting all of your anger on this task. Then you put on your clothes and sat on the floor, beside the discharged sheets. You were so mad that your past continued to haunt you. That it was affecting David, who had done nothing but help you heal. Now he wasn't there with you because of the crimes of another man.
You cried until you were exhausted, and ended up falling asleep right there on the floor.
When you opened your eyes, you were lost. You didn't remember why you were on the floor until you saw the sheets. You shivered. How much time had passed? Where was David?
You gathered all your strength to stand up and opened the bedroom door. The house was completely dark. Shit. What if he got himself in trouble somewhere? If he had left the house on the state he was earlier... he probably would.
Then you heard something. The TV. You rushed downstairs. David was asleep on the sofa. You sighed and walked towards him. Kneeling on the floor, you placed your hand softly on his face. But he was absolutely exhausted, he didn't wake up. You felt you were going to cry again. He was so beautiful... even though you hardly saw him looking this peaceful while he was awake.
You laid on top of him on the sofa, snuggling on his chest, legs intertwined with his. He still didn't wake up. It was crazy to think that man would ever hurt you... you never felt as safe as whenever you could feel him like this. You fell asleep again.
When he woke up, if it wasn't for the tears on his shirt, he would have thought it was all a nightmare and none of that actually happened. His body was tense under yours, he still wasn't very comfortable with touching you again.
"Y/N..." He called, hands slowly caressing your arms, trying to wake you up as gently as possible.
You opened your eyes, but it was quite hard to adjust... they were swollen from crying so much.
"Dave." You said, sitting up. He followed your movements, sitting beside you. "Dave, listen... I'm so sorry, I..."
"Don't you dare." He interrupted. "Don't you dare apologize."
"I overreacted." You insisted.
"No, you didn't." He took a deep breath. "I fucking hurt you. Could have been a lot worse."
"But it wasn't." You furrowed your eyebrows. "We have a safe word. I used it and... that's it, it's okay now. It didn't end up badly."
"How can you say it didn't end up badly?" He shook his head. "It ended up with you fucking bleeding and crying. Fuck, I'll never be able to get out of my head that look in your eyes... fucking scared of me."
"I'm not scared of you. If you put that gun against my head I wouldn't be scared. I trust you." You assured him. "I just panicked... got... bad memories. That look in my eyes wasn't for you, was for my past."
"I brought it back." He reached on his pockets for his cigarettes. David never smoked inside the house, but by the way his hands were shaking, you could see he was nervous.
"Well, I..." You were desperately looking for the right words to calm him down. "If I had used the safe word earlier, this wouldn't have happened. It's not your fucking fault, David."
"Yeah? Then why didn't you?" He replied, cigarette in his mouth, looking for his lighter. "Fuck..."
"Fucking look at me." You grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and threw it on the floor.
It was the adrenaline. You didn't think before doing it. He looked at you absolutely stunned. No one dared to say a word.
"Right... I can see you're not scared." He finally broke the silence.
You started laughing. Hard. Was it that funny or was that nervousness? It didn't matter, because it put a smile on his face.
"I'm sorry... I was just trying to be heard." You shrugged.
"Well..." He went back to a more serious tone. "Then why don't you answer my question? Why didn't you tell me to stop earlier? You didn't even need to say the safe word, if you just told me 'no', I wouldn't... I wouldn't have laid a finger on you, you know that, right?"
"I do." You replied. "I really do, I swear... but I... I guess I didn't realize how I really felt until it was too late, you know? I was happy that you were home and I wanted you around... wanted you to touch me and you know I like it when you're rough, so... I was confused. It wasn't anyone's fault. Specially not yours, okay?"
"I don't know..." He looked at the cigarette on the floor. "I feel like I could have read the situation a little better, you know?"
"You stopped when I asked you to stop, that's all you could have done." You grabbed his hand, caressing it with your thumb. "Everything else that happened... could only be avoided if you changed my past."
"I could still kill him." He joked. Or at least you hoped he was joking...
"Does that change the past?" You rolled your eyes.
"No, but it would be pretty fucking satisfying." He shrugged. "You know, I don't believe in this kind of justice. I promise I never killed anyone, but... for you? I wouldn't think twice."
"Well, you don't have to." You got closer, sitting on his lap and placing both hands on each side of his face. "What really helps me get through it all is all the love you've given me. All the respect. Just how fucking much you care... nothing else is gonna fix me. The way you made me believe that I deserve to be loved and taken care of... and that there are good people out there."
"That just can't happen again, baby... I can't do it." He sent you a pleading look.
"It won't, look..." You promised him. "If I ever feel uncomfortable again, I'll tell you right away, okay?"
"Please." His voice came out so weak. "If I hurt you I will never be able to live with myself."
"You won't hurt me. That isn't you." You assured him. "You're gentle and sweet... even when you're rough, I promise I always feel safe."
"I don't think I'll ever be that rough again." His eyes widened.
"David. Don't say that." You almost whined. "I want you to!"
"Y/N..." He sighed. "Let's just... take a break from that, okay?"
"Hm." You smirked. "Okay, baby, I'm not complaining about making sweet love to my wonderful boyfriend... it's just that... when I want it rough... I'm gonna tease you until I get it. I know how to break you, you know that."
"For fucks sake... you're a fucking menace." He rubbed his face with his hands. "Where's my cigarette?"
"Come and get it..." You giggled.
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 19: confessions - mist and aether talking about dews transition. Aether thinks she hates him, she doesn’t, and they talk about their feelings
It helps to read this piece and some of the stuff in #wrath’s ghost lore before hand, but it’s not necessary. Just know aether did dews transition.
Thank you to @forlorn-crows as always for this month <3
Warnings for small talks of mortality, it’s kinda angsty but I made it better so.
“How did you-“
“Dewdrop” aether interrupted.
Mist sat under one of the old concrete arches that decorated the back of an abandoned chapel. One of the little ones that primo had used before the clergy grew out of it. Let sit to gather vines and moss. Leaves decorated the pillars, the walkway was full of cracks and so overgrown that it was almost hard to follow.
There was a sense of tranquility in the chaos. The fresh smell of plants and old water that had seeped into the grooves of the concrete made mist feel at ease, nothing to order her around, nothing to remind her of the strict order she was to follow when in front of the other siblings.
“He’s such a snitch” mist snorted. She patted the ground next to her, motioning for aether to join her.
“He told me what happened” aether sighed, leaning back against the structure. He jumped slightly at the cool feeling on his back, before settling in completely.
“How much?”
“Said you went off on him. That you were upset he actually changed his element”
Mist cringed. She brought her knees tight to her chest as dewdrops jacket now felt shameful around her shoulders. Part of her almost wanted to just get up and walk away to avoid the confrontation. She knew dew probably told aether what she said about him, that she had partially blamed him. Words spat in the heat of the moment begging dew just to look at her.
“He told me what you said”
“I’m sure aethers real pleased with his work this time” mist bit
“If omega of all ghouls can fuck up did you really expect me to trust aether?”
“Aether I-“ mist choked. She cringed remembering her own words, bitter tasting in her mouth now that the target of her anger sat next to her.
“Don’t, I understand why you’re upset,” he sighed. The air felt thick around them, a heavy cold that encapsulated them both as the sun went down.
“Yeah but I’m not upset with you”
Mist doesn’t know who she’s upset with if she’s being honest. Maybe herself for feeling betrayed even if dew didn’t pick pride over an animalistic fate like she did. Maybe papa for letting her choose her own reality of not transitioning. Maybe whatever sick divine being cursed them to be like this. None of her feelings seem correct. She couldn’t pick an answer on what’s appropriate to feel about this even if she tried.
“No one seems to be. I kinda hoped you were the one to actually see through this bullshit " Aether threw his head back to rest against the wall, staring up at the dark patches of algae on the top of the arch.
“What do you mean? No one should be mad at you aeth”
“I did that to him, I ruined him”
“You saved him.” Mist turned to face him, a concerned look on her face. A gust of wind cut against the tears in her eyes, making her realize that she had once again started crying.
“He’s not himself anymore mist, so does it even matter?”
Aether sighed, chewing his lip in frustration. The lingering light of the sunset cast a cold shadow on him making him shiver as he moved to stand up.
“He’s more himself than he ever was” mist practically whispered. She gave him a pleading look, motioning him to continue to sit with her.
“He won’t even look at you mist”
“But that’s always been dew. He’s had a fiery personality since he was summoned. I could’ve used his favorite cup and he would’ve ignored me for hours over it”
Aether stopped to stare at her, a puzzled look in his eye.
“I would give anything for him to just talk to me, but that’s my fault anyways. He’s always been a volatile bundle of emotions, it’s just fitting he now has the element to match” she laughed.
There was a rare crack in her pride that made her feel solemn. Asking if she herself made the right decision to stay a water ghoul. The choice between staying true to herself and succumbing to a natural fate or potentially becoming a botched version of herself that was barely mist anymore.
Dew was thriving. He had his scars and sudden outbursts that weren’t exactly there before, but he was happy, and that’s all mist needed to care about.
“I just don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself” aether mumbled, sitting closer to mist while she wrapped the small jacket around his shoulders.
“You will. One day you’ll see how bright his smile has gotten and you’ll realize it was worth it.”
#mushy may 2024#mushy may#the band ghost#ghost#nameless ghouls#ghost bc#fanfic#wrath writes#mist ghoulette#aether ghoul
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Insane Ramblings to an Expired Audience
Double Down x GN Reader
TW! It's kind of violent + blood ahahah.....
“Have I got your attention?”
Of course he does. The idiot, Double Down, has his scythe balanced under your chin, prodding at your throat gently.
You’re not sure why you’re being interrogated. Everyone in attendance of this party has already been slaughtered, what more could he possibly want from you? You don’t have much time to linger on that thought. He leans closer to wipe the tears from your eyes with his free hand, smiling fondly at you.
“Hey, it’s okay! I’m not going to do anything as long as you listen.” He chuckles, moving his weapon away from your jugular.
“Oh-!” He yelps as you shove him over and attempt to run past him. He easily nips that in the bud, grabbing your ankle and watching in irritation as you tumble.
“You don’t understand,” He mutters, his tone a far cry from the caring one you heard previously. “I’m trying to help you.”
He yanks you closer by your ankle, climbing on top of you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel blood seeping into your clothes, the liquid rapidly cooling and leaving a sticky feeling on your skin.
“I hate you. You disgusting weirdo. I hope you rot in hell..” You hiss through clenched teeth, squirming at the feeling of his breath on your neck.
He pauses his sick replica of an affectionate gesture and sits up, now seated on your lower back. You have to twist your head painfully to even catch a glimpse of his expression. You wish you hadn’t upon seeing the unhinged look in his eyes.
“Take it back.” He whispers, and you almost don’t hear him over the pounding of your heart in your ears.
“No.” You reply instantly, as if on instinct. He sits with his arms hanging limply at his sides, glaring down at you.
His right hand twitches, and before you can even blink it’s entangled in your hair. He tugs you backward by the strands, your back arching as far as it can while you’re forcefully moved up.
“Apologize.” His voice cracks, tears forming in his eyes as he holds you in place. You try to choke out a reply, but before you can your head is slammed down onto the floor.
“Apologize!” His voice is pitchy and panicked, his hands shaking as blood begins to pool from your forehead. He picks his scythe back up and stands. Before you can move, his foot plants itself between your shoulder blades.
“I told you, I’m trying to help you. You can’t just…” He pants, the breath leaving his lungs. His free hand grips his shirt over his thudding heart, tugging like he’s trying to rip his own ribcage open and pull it out.
He doesn’t think to stop himself as his scythe embeds itself into your back with a crack. Once the weapon leaves his trembling hands, he buries them in his hair and stumbles backward.
“No… Hang on, I…” He whimpers, biting his lip hard enough that it begins to bleed. He falls back onto his knees, his head spinning.
“I-I love you. Please stay.” He utters, repeating the phrase softly to himself as he stares at the red-covered ground.
After what could’ve been hours, he slowly raises his gaze to your still form. You’re coated in blood, the liquid a puddle beneath your figure. He swallows thickly and crawls over to you, kneeling by your side.
“Wake up.” His voice is a soft squeak, him nudging your motionless body as tears fall down his cheeks in waves. His body wracked with sobs, he lifts you gently and lays down beside you.
“I’m here now. Don’t be afraid anymore.” He hiccups, cuddling you close to himself and hiding his face in your shoulder once again. His fingers run through your hair as he melts against your lifeless being.
Even like this, you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“I…”
He whimpers.
“...I’ll meet you in hell, my dear. I love you.”
#yandere oc#yandere#yandere boy#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere boyfriend#yandere scenarios#bpdoubledown
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Garden
Just something I wrote up really quick in one of the servers I'm in. Trying to dust off the brain and get it working again.
I am rusty. Holy moly.
~~~
Callie stood in the side yard of her house, staring at the weed-bed her landscaping had become. Thistles and onion grass had crowded out any other plant she had tried to grow--although, granted, that had been a number of years ago.
She wasn't a gardener. By any stretch of the imagination.
She had everything she needed to deal with the offending weeds. A hand shovel, a full-sized shovel, a little hand rake, and a paper bag to toss the pulled weeds into.
Everything except the motivation to get started.
She hated dealing with this crap.
"Whatcha lookin' at, Mom?"
A voice behind her, and she turned. Silver stood with his head cocked to one side, a curious look on his face. She sighed, offering him a little smile.
"Just doing some gardening, Bug. Wanna help?"
A smile brightened his muzzle, and he nodded. "Okay!"
The boy stepped forward, and the two took to their knees, looking upon the chore before them. Callie pointed out the different weeds and named them, explaining how they'd need removed by the root to make sure they didn't grow back. Then they'd have to turn the soil, remove any grubs or other harmful insects, before planting any of the decorative flowers she'd bought.
Silver seemed excited to help, and the two worked for a while, slowly pulled the weeds out.
"Greetings, Callie," a deep voice called behind them, and they turned. Knuckles emerged from the trees surrounding her home, and he nodded toward the hedgehog. "Silver."
"Hey, Knux," the redhead called. "To what do I owe the visit?"
"Mother would like to borrow your spare coffee maker. There was an . . . incident with ours."
"Sonic or Tails?"
"Tails. He insisted he could make it work faster and . . . it did not end well."
"Hmm. That kid."
"Yes. Mother was not pleased."
"I can imagine," Callie said, pushing herself to her feet. "I think it's in the basement, but it may take me a few minutes to find it."
The echidna nodded. "Of course."
She turned to the hedgehog. "Silver, why don't you show Knux what we were doing. Maybe he'd like to help."
Silver nodded. "Okay."
A few minutes later, as Callie dug through the boxes in her basement, Silver and Knuckles sat near the weedy patch near the house. They stared at the many unwelcome batches of vegetation, a silence hanging over them for a moment.
"That is an impressive amount of weeds."
"Yeah," Silver said. "Mom's not really into this kind of thing. She keeps saying she'll let me make a garden, but we never get around to doing it."
Knuckles turned to him. "You would like a garden?"
Silver nodded. "I like to take care of plants and think it would be fun to grow my own vegetables."
The echidna lowered his head as he thought. "Hmm." He lifted his head, his chest pushed out. "I will help you, young hedgehog."
"Help me what?"
"With your garden. Mother has allowed me one at home, and it is very relaxing."
"Really??"
"I will help you now."
Silver furrowed his brow. "What about the weeds?"
Knuckles waved a hand over them. "They are not going anywhere. Come. Show me where you would like your garden."
The two hurried off to a spot in the yard Silver had been eyeing for his garden for months. And at first things went well. Knuckles used his claws to dig in the ground, turning the earth and preparing it for planting. Silver used his telekinesis to rake the soil smooth, giving any rocks unearthed a quick flick to send them flying into the trees. They worked quickly, and soon they had a proper garden plot prepared, ready for seeding.
And then Callie returned.
"What are you two doing??"
It came out a little harsher than she intended, and startled the two boys with her tone. Silver jerked, sending the rake and three rocks he still held in his telekinesis flying toward her.
Callie gasped, holding the coffee maker before her as a makeshift shield, before Knuckles hit her in the midsection, shoving her out of the way.
Silver came rushing over, hands over his mouth, eyes wide.
"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he cried, his forehead fan bristling in fear.
"It's okay," she said, Knuckles helping her to her feet. "My fault for startling you." She looked back at the roughly tilled earth. "What are you doing?"
"Making our garden!" Silver said, his fear forgotten in his excitement. He rushed over and gestured to it with extended arms. "Look! Knuckles helped me get it started!"
"He did?" Callie cast the echidna a raised eyebrow. "Did it occur to you to ask me first?"
Knuckles shrugged. "He said you kept promising to make one, and hadn't gotten to it. I was merely doing what you had already promised."
She narrowed her eyes. "I suppose that's fair." She looked back at the garden. "I'm not sure how well it'll do over there, though. That spot seems pretty bad with grubs and rocks."
Silver waved a hand. "I took care of the rocks, and Knuckles took care of the grubs."
At first Callie's brow furrowed. Then it cleared as understanding hit. She flicked her eyes down to the echidna.
"You didn't."
He looked back, unblinking.
"Knuckles."
He shrugged. "They have a different taste here, but it is not necessarily bad."
Callie pulled a face. "Gross, Knux."
"We're not in trouble, are we?" Silver asked, pulling a head spike forward to give a little tug. "I mean, you did say I could make one."
Callie gave a little sigh, nodding. "Yeah, I did say that." Another sigh. "Why don't you head in and grab those seeds we've been holding onto and you and Knuckles can get them planted, yeah?"
Silver smiled, one that stretched across his muzzle, and he zipped into the house with a speed that would have made Sonic proud. Callie watched him with a smile, before looking down at the echidna.
"Did you really eat all those grubs?"
He shrugged. "Should I have saved some for you?"
"Gross, Knux."
A little smile curled one corner of his lips, and he walked over to the tilled earth. He sorted through a batch of dirt, before picking something out and bringing it to her. A small white grub squirmed in his outstretched hand, and she curled her lip in disgust.
"Don't."
His smile spread wider.
"Knuckles Wachowski, don't you dare."
He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest, and popped the insect into his mouth like popcorn. He chewed twice, then swallowed, a loud, exaggerated, sound.
Callie nearly gagged. "Ohmygawd, you're such a turd."
That produced a loud laugh from the echidna, and he shook his head as Silver returned, his arms full of seed packets.
"Ohmygosh!" he cried, bouncing up and down in his excitement. "I don't know what to plant first!"
Callie gestured to Knuckles. "Ask Mr. Grub Breath over there. I'm gonna sit over here and tend to the weeds and try to forget what I just saw."
Knuckles laughed again, and the two boys began the task of setting up the different rows and sections for Silver's garden.
Callie sat before the weed patch, thankful for something else to focus on.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
sundays outfit
#likedovesdo#me#my pic#i hate my knees why do they look like that#outfit#outfit inspo#grunge outfit#mypic#pics:p
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
purely fanon jason vent below so feel free to ignore
every other fic in the jason todd tag whether its romantic or platonic or whatever just has to include something about the no kill rule or him giving up killing like is it not enough ! have we not hashed out this argument enough already ! can I not read some jason content without having to be randomly bombarded by the morality police and how “oh jasons not killed anyone for x amount of months thats great! we knew u could do it jay”
and I wish I was just joking like I really do but I have scoured the tag almost from top to bottom and it always, without a doubt, has to come up at some point. its his fucking defining character trait apparently. mind u he’s not even the only dc character that kills but yall just won’t let it go! I do not need jason giving up his stance on killing to be written out for me to be able enjoy content about him
and whether its included so that his relationships with other characters can be viewed as ‘realistic’ is just so. what does it matter. its already fan-fiction who the hell cares about justifying the universe that you’re choosing to write him in
#jason todd#dc#red hood#dcu#pls do not interact if u have issues with jasons stance on vigilantism or whatever bc this is rlly not my point#idc whether u hate him for it or not to each their own#I just wish it wasn’t treated as some sort of stain on his character that needs to be addressed in every fic he appears in or else he —#cant be liked or something#like thats a topic that has to be addressed for my love of jason todd and his character and the love other charas have for him to be valid#its giving ‘jason u cannot be loved the way that u are’#and this reiterates the point I made in a previous post about how ppl genuinely dont know how to perceive this conflict and its resolution#the other way around#and how bc of that its always jason who has to be portrayed as making amends or taking a knee#there are so many interesting facets to jason todd so why does it always have to circle back to this one thing#why is it that hes one of the only charas ive seen where a certain plot point can never be looked past when enjoying him in fandom
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
Randomly remembered the half-reason i call my oc-verse by the name it has while laying in bed. One-half of the reason i still knew, but I had forgotten what had truly, really cemented it jointly until now
(it was a song from my favourite band I haven't listened to in a while.)
(the song fit so well at the time, still does, that i needed to hold onto it for the main protagonists forever, by partially naming their story in reference.)
Does this explanation make any sense? Does anyone know why I'm tearing up remembering this. Aahh
#(I'm emotional because I've been feeling bad about it all lately. enjoying things I make I mean—art or ocs or frivilous things.)#(So remembering that song and when it came out. That I couldn't see them in person. But i held onto it my own way. As something I loved)#(Something I still do love a lot... Parts of me saying no—you don't hate it. No. I'll help you remember more. I'm a little misty about it.)#The song is just The Killers - Run For Cover. I couldn't see them in person all those years ago—family went without me.#All my new oc rework with Zin and Hunter and Caia were like a year old or so.#It's a little silly. But the character Zin's derived from was a lightning mage so I stuck to it—I like monhun's zinogre for what its worth#So there's recurring theme and imagery. Thunder's not lightning but the sound and the feeling after the flash the flame and strike.#There's that meaningful thought—the story is the aftermath of a big tragedy. It matches what I like in monsters and other chars.#And at that time—my favourite band I missed out on puts out a really good song I download everywhere and it goes like:#He motioned me to the sky/ I heard heaven and thunder cry/ Run for cover/ Run while you can baby don't look back/ You gotta run for cover#And it goes on of course. The rest of the song's still really good. There's more that fits but point is; More evocative imagery.#So there. Why my bundle of OCs—Zinadia Hunter and Caia's story—is called Thunder 20XX. minus the 20XX. That's tongue-in-cheek#About some day I'll manage to make something tangeable or broadly shareable with them. I guarentee this century!#Thunder... oh my darling Thunder. Eight years man. More than that if I really want to count pre-rework INTO the complete original work. but#I like that it's definably 8. I like that I remembered I've always loved them a lot. Always been my thing to lean on even by name...#I need to get to sleep. Ive gotten a little more emotional over one song than I'd rather regularly be. Give it a listen maybe? Goodnight#Armour clanking#I need an oc tag#What have you gathered to report to your progenitors?🎶Are your excuses any better than your senator's🎶He held a conference#and his wife was standing by his side🎶He did her dirty but no-one died🎶#I saw Sonny Liston on the street last-night black-fisted and strong singing🎶Redemption song🎶#He motioned me to the sky🎶I heard heaven and thunder cry🎶RUN FOR COVER#What are you waiting for—a kiss or an apology?🎶You think by now you'd have an A in toxicology🎶#It's hard to pack the car when all you do is shame us🎶Even harder when the dirtbag's famous🎶#I saw my mother on the street last night all pretty and strong singin🎶The road is long🎶#I said 'Mama I know you tried!'🎶But she fell on her knees and cried🎶RUN FOR COVER#Just run for cover - you've got nothin left to lose...
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tbh 99% of my ideas come from some form of BL being consumed followed by "This could be about lesbians....it should be about lesbians." *Opens google doc in a frenzy*
#i dunno why wlw cant get down and dirty like bl sometimes#and NO i dont mean the webtoon i actually hate that story#but i would kill for Black Mirror but lesbian#or mm Painter in the Night but lesbian#or BLIND PLAY BUT LESBIAN#WAIT???? WHY DON'T I DO THAT????#......killers....are hot....right....(yk when they arent real. real ones are best looking behind bars lmao)#ahahahahahahaha *digs fingers into knees*#wat if BJ Alex but lesbian.#WHAT IF JINX BUT LESBIAN???#💀💀💀 also how do yall feel abt jinx im possessed even tho i would actually stab the seme#like mmm For Garbage (yuri) is pretty up there if you're looking for toxic yaoi but make it wlw#Savior too. yk. till they fucked up the end😒#*shimmies sensually* andddd on a leaaassshhh my favorite everrrr its 1000 shades of toxicccc~
22 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dancedancedancedance100
I LOVE DANCE
spanish20-20181
Español 20 - 20181
lukasmcsbr
Aidkas rules in this blog folks
okikagugintama-blog
OKIKAGU IS DEADLY LOVE
dominikspunk
lluvia