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seancekitsch · 2 months

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Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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bueckerslover · 11 days

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SWEET LOVE - CAITLIN CLARK

summary𞠬: hiii could you write caitlin clark x reader where she has a crush on a singer in the same level as taylor swift (like super famous, eyes on them all the time etc etc etc) pls and thank u!!

- warnings: none? at least i don’t think so

-taglist: @patscorner @wintersstan @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @breeloveschris @endereies

masterlist | navigation

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THE FLASHING LIGHTS of cameras being as blinding as it could be, people were shouting your name to get your attention and snap pictures of you.

as you made your way to the entrance of the building you were stopped by an interviewer “y/n! i’m john winston, is it okay if i ask you a few questions?” he asked pushing the microphone towards you.

“of course!” you replied with a smile “alright first question, who did your hair and makeup today?” he started “my stylist linda did my hair and makeup she really knows what she’s doing” you replied with a smile.

they asked you typical questions you’d always get in these events. “okay one last question before i let you go, we’ve noticed recently that you have been watching women’s college basketball who would you say is your favorite team and players?” he questioned looking up from his paper.

“my favorite teams and players?” you repeat the question “that’s a difficult question for players i would say either caitlin clark or kate martin, now for teams i don’t know actually i don’t have a favorite just yet” you replied with a smile and nodding your head. “there you have it guys she doesnt have a favorite team yet! thank you so much for your time y/n” he replied with a smile before walking off.

caitlin was scrolling through tiktok when she came across clips from last night’s interview, she paid attention to everything you had to say until the last question “that’s a difficult question for players i would say either caitlin clark or kate martin, now for teams i don’t know actually i don’t have a favorite just yet” your voice rang from the phone in her hand. “woah what” she said sliding her hand to go back to that specific question.

“i’m her favorite player? wait she knows who i am?!” she thought a smile creeping into her face. this was something big for caitlin you’ve been her crush since 2018, she loved everything about you from your music to how you interacted with your fans.

this was her chance, “should i dm her? no she probably gets too many dms and mine would get lost” she said responding to her own question before she could do anything she got a notification; “your.username just posted.”

liked by madisonbeer and 1,200 others

your.username: thank you toronto! 💕

user: best concert ever 🫶

user: i think i lost my voice 😭

↳︎︎ user: frrrr my throat hurtsss 💀

user: come to iowa next !

↳︎︎ your.username: 👀

user: what city/state next??

︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ↳︎︎ your.username: cleveland, ohio 😛

↳︎︎ user: doesn’t iowa have a game there ??

you arrived at your hotel room, dropping all your bags by the tv jumping on the bed. a loud sigh escaped your mouth, the flight was so long and there was a kid behind you kicking your seat like his life depended on it.

you were slowly falling asleep but your phone buzzed then lit up with a notification.

“we’re getting food downstairs, join us we have a few things to speak to you about”

your manager texted, you sighed getting out of bed and putting your shoes on. you head to the elevator, clicking the button that heads to the first floor you send back a quick “omw” text to your manager the door opens you accidentally bump into someone who was getting out.

“i’m so sorry” you say looking up to see those dazzling brown eyes, the ones you’ve only seen on tv. “it’s okay don’t…worry” she said softly looking down at you.

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a/n: surprise surprise this is me introducing a new mini series for caitlin i hope yall enjoy this one:)

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wlw post #wlw #wlw love #lgbtq #lesbian #wcbb #wcbb x reader

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fleuraimer · 5 months

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Overstimulation blurb pls

I love how Harry is so obsessed with her pussy so he keeps on making her cum / squirt but still not getting satisfied despite how overwhelming and teary eyed she got after 5-6 times she orgasms

sorry for the wait bestie 😭 i hope you like it!! 🩷

wc: 665

cw: smut, minors dni, 17+, overstimulation play, baldrry (he's so hot idc idc idc), and more. not proofread.

Harry has been sucking Y/N’s clit for almost two hours now. The only reason she’s consciously aware of that fact is because of his phone, bright blue light illuminating their bedroom ceiling, blurry numbers scribing one hour and fifty-two fucking minutes. His favorite torture device—a sage bullet vibrator that should be criminal for having so many settings—sits, unused, beside her shaky form.

He set a stopwatch. For what reason, she does not know. She honestly doesn’t have the ability to, though. It’s actually kind of hilarious to expect anything from her expect incoherent huffs and puffs, and garbled curses.

But Harry just loves to laugh.

“C’mon, Sweetheart, talk to me; tell Daddy how it feels.” His palms press down on the backs of her thighs, keeping her spread for him—he’s made her smear her messy pussy open for him too, though, for extra measure—her poor clit exposed to every sensation. The AC turning on makes her twitch, let alone Harry’s own hot breath.

“S’g—ood, Daddy,” she gasps, her eyes as puffy and red as her sensitive cunt. “Feels—” She mewls through the rest of her sentence, his tongue back on her button, laving over it, petting softly with the very tip.

It tickles a part of Y/N’s belly that sets the rest of her body on fire. How something so faint, so delicate, can be so utterly disgusting at the same time makes her head spin, in the best way.

Her head falls back on the mattress with a subtle bounce, her chest arching away for the sheets when his lips wrap teasingly her clit, toes wiggling as her feet flail, precious cries involuntarily slipping from her pouty lips.

“H,” she soughs, her hands abandoning post and finding the back of his head, nails scratching through the soft peach fuzz from the nape of his neck to the top of his head. Her head lolls around until her eyes find Harry’s once more, his cheeky, practically delighted smile felt before his slick mouth and pearly teeth (and sinful tongue) register through her vision.

Her brows draw to the center of her forehead as he flattens his tongue against the whole of her, the slippery tip dipping into her weepy opening before working back up to swirl over her swollen button until he feels her twitch, then starting all over again.

He repeats the action enough times for Y/N to lose count, her hearing staticky, vision blurry, thoughts nonexistent. It would explain why she doesn’t notice Harry’s hand falling from the back of her thigh, explain why when he starts fucking his tongue into her neglected hole, she whines at the loss of contact to her clit, fumbling to pull back on the hood with one hand as the other remains petting over his soft, clipped hair, as if to say Don’t forget about your pretty button, Daddy.

Though, forgotten is the last thing her poor overused clit is. It’s probably at the forefront of Harry’s mind, as a matter of fact, if the sudden touch of silicone to her pretty button is anything to go off of. Not to mention, the resounding buzz that quite literally rocks through her entire system.

Her soft cries are no longer soft. They’re loud and whiny, some guttural, but most sad little uh uh uh’s that get slurred through babbled curses. She doesn’t think of how pathetic she might look to Harry right now, she can’t (a fact that she’s wildly grateful for). All she can fucking think about is his tongue stuffed in her drippy pussy and the toy pressed directly on her clit.

She whimpers when he starts moving the vibrator from side to side, pointlessly smearing her arousal and his spit into her throbbing cunt. It fucking hurts.

“Stop with the crocodile tears, Princess,” Harry mumbles into her, scowling at the sight of her wet cheeks. “Cut it out before Daddy gives y’somethin’ to really cry ‘bout.”

He just had all the jokes today, didn’t he?

#writing #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writng #smutty fic #blurb #ask #requested

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actual-changeling · 7 months

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Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner - although today it is less unhinged and more of a watertight analysis.

What I am about to present you is something most people have probably already noticed, but it has been three months and I still lose my mind while going through the final fifteen frame by frame (which is a normal thing normal people like us do, right? right).

You literally cannot convince me my following meta is wrong, and the only person whose criticism I will accept on this post is Michael Sheen and Michael Sheen ONLY. If you're not Michael Sheen (hi Michael Sheen who probably has a secret tumblr account) then your guess is as good as mine, though again, I think mine is solid.

So.

We all love and hate Aziraphale's "I forgive you", but what I find even more painful is the fact that before that he almost said "I love you". Then he stops himself and changes it, and the amount of micro-expressions on his face as he makes that decision is my current cause of death.

Here's the clip as evidence #1, and while it can definitely support itself, let's dive into the pain a little more, shall we?

One important thing I noticed is that Aziraphale doesn't look at Crowley while he stutters his way through his initial reaction. He blinks up at him for a few frames before averting his eyes again and only holds eye contact after the almost-confession (from here on referred to as IL-).

This is Aziraphale holding eye contact with Crowley (left) vs. him looking away (right):

The frame on the left is from the I forgive you (IFY) part of the scene, the other one from right before IL-. If we go through the above clip little by little we will find that he avoids Crowley's face the entire time and his gaze slips further and further down, which I interpret as him overthinking/trying to come up with something to respond to this entire situation.

He is overwhelmed and surprised, caught between his two main desires: Crowley and being a Good Angel.

Combing through the frames, we can actually nail down exactly when Aziraphale first makes eye contact before the IL- and when he stops. Keep the above comparison in mind! The angle is slightly different because his chin is lower and he straightens up throughout the scene.

So! This is where he starts looking at Crowley:

And this is where he stops:

Hard to see? Let's zoom in on his eyes (numbers are the file names):

Now, you might ask me "Alex, this is all fine, although a bit insane, but why is any of this important?"

Because, fellow tumblr user and good omens enthusiast, I think that looking at Crowley is what changes his mind about what to say.

He doesn't look at him -> about to confess his feelings.

He looks at him -> says the absolutely worst possible thing.

Partly to hurt him because they're both lashing out at each other during this argument, but he looks at Crowley, looks at the person that just kissed him, that told him they could have been an us, that wants him and has always wanted him, screw everyone else.

He looks at Crowley and he wants to say l love you but then what? Once he says those words, he can't leave. He just can't.

We have to remember that they have existed within a complicated dance, a game that they have been playing for centuries without ever telling each other what that game actually is, what the rules are - because they couldn't. It was based entirely on trust and knowing the other person well enough to play it safe.

Crowley just flipped the playing board. Nothing is the way it should be, he is refusing to do their dance, refusing to play. He is looking at him and daring him to stop trying to put the pieces back on the board. The only thing neither of them has done yet is actually say I love you out loud.

Saying those words would mean stepping away from the playing board and acknowledging the room they have been playing in. It would mean saying fuck you to heaven, yes, but it would also force Aziraphale to finally define himself outside of the role he has been playing for both Crowley and heaven, and he isn't ready for that yet.

Additionally, there is the fear and/or knowledge (depending on what else the Metatron might have said or done that we did not see) that heaven will retaliate against him and Crowley if he disobeys them now, and he does not want to risk that either.

All that is what, in my opinion, happens in his head when he averts his eyes and interrupts himself. I do kinda what to make a whole different post about his facial expressions leading up to the IFY, so I will end this one with one more bit of pain.

Ready?

Firstly, the face he makes when he makes his decision.

Look at the tight line of his lips, the pain etched into his face, the pure pain in his eyes.

This is the face of someone who knows exactly how badly he is going to hurt Crowley and himself. This is an apology, an I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, this hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm sorry but I have to.

And then he winces afterwards. I don't know about you, but this is exactly the kind of face I make when I'm emotionally torturing myself with my own thoughts. For the final blow, please look at the picture very, very closely, especially the last frame, because Aziraphale isn't just sorry and he isn't just in pain.

Aziraphale is scared because he knows* that he might lose Crowley over this. He knows that saying I forgive you is (almost) unforgivable. He KNOWS.

He does it anyway because he will lose Crowley either way but he'd rather have him alive and hating him than dead.

With that I am concluding today's unhinged meta corner, thank you for your attention and you're welcome for the pain.

Also: If you want to call me a 'tin hatter' or insane or otherwise make fun of me - this is very much a girl, what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament moment because you read my meta post all the way to the end. <3

*authors note: what Aziraphale thinks he knows and what is actually real is not the same thing but that's a different post

#alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens kiss #good omens 2 meta #no nightingales

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no-nameno-face · 1 year

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Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)

TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC.

Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)

Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!

I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home.

Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head.

My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip.

“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound.

She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch.

“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.

“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?”

“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side.

I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters.

“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”

“With Jesse right?”

“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach. “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.

I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!”

“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.

Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her.

“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.

“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”

“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts.

“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles

“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.

She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.

“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman.

Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”

Jesus Christ.

“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words.

“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.”

Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection.

“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously.

“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.

She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds.

“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!” I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face.

Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects.

Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it, encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.

“All right. Your turn.”

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie smut #ai audios #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n

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bitchb0ybunny · 7 days

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LONG READ, BUT WORTH IT!!!

COD FANS, PRO-PALESTINIAN PALS, LISTEN TO ME FOR A SEC. I know this might be crazy, but hear me out. Just for a moment, I promise it'll be worth while. I thought for like 5 minutes on whether or not I should post this, but I say fuck it. My account isn't big, I'm not popular, but I know this will at least get on one persons page and get one persons attention and that's what matters.

THIS MAN! THAT MAN UP THERE ^

COD besties love him, some people might not know who he is. His name is Johnathan Price, he's a fictional character played by Barry Sloane in the Modern Warfare 2 Remaster. Friends, take a close look to that thing around his neck.

Some of y'all think it looks familiar, right?

Me too. I might be slow on this, some people might've pointed it out on different platforms already, but I'm bringing it to attention anyway. It looks like a Kuffiyah. (Kuffiyeh? Kuffiya? Keffiyeh? I'm still a little confused on which spelling of the name is correct, so I'm using all of them). I might be crazy here, but it looks like one to me. If you don't know, a Kuffiyah is a Palestinian garment that, in very simplified terms, symbolizes their culture and freedom. I'm sure everyone already knows that that freedom has been threatened and that the people of Palestine are currently being slaughtered like cattle, no matter their age, sex, gender identity, etc. It's pure bloodshed of innocent people, a genocide, a holocaust if you need more terms.

I have a very simple theory that I don't think is hard to believe, but first let me show you what a Kuffiyah looks like for those who don't know.

Protesters at University of Michigan in the US, this month. Photograph: Anadolu/Getty Images

The black and white garment these people are wearing is a Kuffiyah. You can find numerous videos on TikTok and other platforms showing up-close images and videos of a Kuffiyah and explaining what the pattern symbolizes.

Now, if you need a second look at that scarf-like garment Captain Price is wearing around his neck, you can scroll back up. There also should be a video below, a clip taken directly from the game, that shows that same garment at different angles if you need a better view.

Now back to that talk of a theory.

Farah Karim, another Icon from the Modern Warfare games. Again, some of you might not know her, here's an image of her.

She's an occupant to a made-up Arabic country called Urzikstan that is located near the Black Sea. She's a solder, and leader, of the Urzikstan Liberation Force, which is an army that fights against the occupation and invasion of her country. In this case, Russia. Farah Karim and John Price are close and, in the games, team up to fight common enemies often. If you look at the country of Urzikstan on the map, in the COD universe, I believe it looks like the same area Palestine should be located on a map if it weren't for Israel's 70+ years of occupation and colonization on Palestinian land.

According to the games lore, the invasion and occupation of Urzikstan from Russia started in 1999, and I'm not sure if its confirmed but I believe it's at least once it's alluded to Price having helped the ULF (Urzikstan Liberation Force) fight off the Russian occupation and free the country.

By this point, I'm sure at least one of you incredibly intelligent people reading this post have figured out what my theory is exactly:

Urzikstan is Palestine in the COD Universe. Or, at the very least, is modeled after and has its history inspired by the very real horrors Palestine has been facing since around 1947 when one of the first/the first attack(s) on Palestine took place on December 31st (Here is an article you can read about that, and there are plenty of similar articles from that outlet). Some of you probably have stopped reading, or think I'm crazy, or something along those lines, but hear me out for a second.

That Kuffiyah that Captain Price is wearing, remember that? People who are in support of Palestine are buying and wearing those to help financially aid Palestinians who can still sell their goods and show their support. I believe that is exactly what Price did, and why he's wearing it.

Now, I raise a question to those who weren't in support before. If Captain Johnathan Price can do something so basic is show support for a population and help fight for a countries freedom, why can't you? It's not hard to reblog a post, or sign a petition, or attend a protest in your area, or at the very least educate yourself on the matter. So, if you aren't, why? If someone who I know most, if not all, of the COD community here on Tumblr loves can do it, can go to war and fight for it, then why can't you do something that's real?

Free Palestine, and have a nice day/night to those of you who actually read all of this to the end.

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banquetwriter · 1 month

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can u write a smut of an insecure plus sized goth reader x johnnie please? she's a virgin and after being together for a few months she asks him could they do it, and he eats her out n fucks her n stuff 🙏🙏 make it really soft pls and thank u i love ur work btw 🖤🖤

୨୧ Batty love ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ goth!fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ smut, losing virginity, getting eaten out, general shenanigans

summary: ʚ johnnie isn’t gonna let you being inexperienced stop him from devouring you ɞ

Words: 2234

An: i know this isn't the best but I'm legitimately do sick rn 😔

You haven't stopped looking at your phone for at least two days. Johnnie, your boyfriend, had just hard-launched your relationship for the first time on Instagram. And to your shock, 95% of the comments were so positive. Everyone complimented your goth appearance.

This much praise was addicting. Being plus size meant a lot of insecurities made by the pathetic losers of society. There were of course a few nice comments… those weren't the ones you kept staring at. Criticizing your looks or body.

Johnnie had warned you about this happening, and you promised him the world knowing about you two was worth it, and it was, but god did it hurt. Johnnie Was out streaming with Jake today so that left you alone for a good few hours.

It was useless trying to wait around crying over some loser online who couldn't handle the fact their celebrity crush didn't pick them. You sat up rubbing your face carefully not trying to hit your piercings at all. You scrolled around on your phone’s playlist before connecting to a speaker.

You started to shift through your closet to come up with an outfit. Maybe you and Johnnie could go out tonight? It was hard to get dressed in full goth normally, especially when you weren't feeling good about yourself.

You settled on a long black skirt with silver shiny bats that were sporadically speckled on it and paired it with an ‘i ❤️ emo boys’ t-shirt with a corset. You put your outfit on by pairing your black stockings and fishnet top for your arms.

You sat down at your desk singing along to your beloved playlist. You turned your light on your mirror searching for your hair clips. You managed to locate them by clipping your hair out of your face. Your music was briefly interrupted by a text notification.

You pick up your phone and it is from Johnnie, ‘should be done soon. Just filmed for Jake's, we're gonna do mine now. Probably just dick around Walmart or something. See you soon love 🖤’ you smiled at his text.

You responded back within seconds ‘Have fun filming (but not too much fun without me lol) 🖤🖤’

You sat your phone down, adjusting your shirt, and you started on your makeup. You put on primer, then foundation, the concealer, and to finish your base off you pack on some powder letting it sit on your face. You pulled out your phone and snapped a selfie of your half-done make-up.

You stuck your tongue off a little for the picture. You posted it on your main Instagram story with a goth song of course. Your Instagram gained quite a few followers from Johnnie’s post. It was exciting and also very scary.

You decided the powder baking on your face was about done so you brushed it off. You grabbed your contour brush and packed some onto it. You started to carve your face onto the white base using the black powder.

Now it was time for your eye makeup. It was the hardest part. You spent a good while meticulously adding your eyeliner and eyeshadow. Once you were done, sufficiently looking like a bat, you finished it off with black lipstick and some setting spray.

You put on accessories and teased your hair to high heaven. And you were all ready. You sprayed some perfume on and looked in the mirror. Fuck did you look good. You posed a little admiring yourself, you took your phone out again and decided to take a few pictures.

This time you posted them as posts and not a story so anyone could say anything. It scared you but you couldn't hide forever. You were dating Johnnie and no one could change that.

It took only a few minutes before the comments came rolling in. All of which were positive, it made your heart soar with all the compliments. You were smiling until you read one: ‘Johnnie eating good tonight’ . It was a nice comment and funny naturally.

There was just one issue. You and Johnnie haven't had sex yet, and furthermore, you have never had sex. Ever. Sure you used a few toys here and there but never has another person shared such an intimate moment with you. You had already worried yourself sick about this. Johnnie Was sexually active and therefore, inevitably he would want to have sex with you.

You were ready… you think at least. You wanted to, of course you did, have you seen your boyfriend? He was such a fucking hottie. You had plenty of dreams of ripping his clothes off and going under the covers. You were just nervous.

You did actually weigh a lot more than your boyfriend and no offense to him he wasn't exactly built to handle all you could offer. The nerves rattled through your body. But you were a full-grown woman and there wasn't anything wrong with taking your time to have sex.

If Johnnie didn't understand that (which you're sure he would) then this wasn't the relationship for you. You shook your thoughts of breaking up with Johnnie away. This wasn't a time to worry.

It was only a few more minutes before Johnnie came home. He stepped into your apartment, and he stopped when looking at you. His jaw faltered open. “Wow, how are you mine?” he asked, closing the door, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“From your strapping good looks and charm of course.” you purred, moving a strand of his hair from his face. You planted a small kiss on his now-exposed skin. “Yeah sure,” he murmured against your hair, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.

You smiled at him, your eyes holding each other. His eyes seem to almost darken looking at you. You pull him into a kiss, one he gladly returns. His hands are holding onto your corseted waist. Even through the thick fabric, you can feel him clutching your body.

Your kisses got more heated as he started to move his hands down your body. You had done this with him before. It didn't scare you much anymore. Of course it was nerve-racking, but not scary. His touch felt so nice even if it was through your clothes.

He slowly moaned into your mouth as you gently tugged his hair. “Fuck,” he muttered slowly pulling away from you. He wrapped his hands into your pulling you towards your couch. Your nerves jumped into your throat knowing what was coming.

And yes you wanted to so fucking bad, you needed your hot boyfriend inside you. He gently pushed you onto the couch, you fell back ruining your cute decorative pillows. He positions himself between your legs, his mouth hungry to devour all of you.

You wanted to enjoy him you really did but your heart was pounding out of your chest with nerves. “Johnnie-” you asked quietly against his lips. He pulled back sensing your worry. “We haven't done anything yet-” you started, unsure how to keep going you stayed silent.

“It's fine if you don't wanna, you know, tonight.” he spoke softly, “No trust me I want to. It's just that I've never done that before. I've never had sex before.” you confessed. You could see his eyes widen. You felt like you were holding his breath.

“Woah, really?” he asked, leaning towards you, a small cheeky smile plastered on his lips. “Yeah, not that I’m waiting for marriage or something but I don't know I just haven't yet,” you said shrugging. “That's ok, are you still down to or?” he asks, staring at you sheepishly.

“Of course I am, I just need you to be slow I guess,” you whispered to him. He glances at your lips for a minute, “I can do that.” he says before your lips crash onto one another.

His hand crept down to your ankle and slowly started to run his hand up your legs, he reached the end of your stocking. He hooked his fingers over the clothing and pulled them off your body repeating it for your other leg.

He looked into your eyes as he slipped his hands back under your skirt, hooking delicate fingers over your panties and slowly pulling them off your body. The feeling of his hands on your thighs was sending waves of pleasure to your core.

You've been horny before but nothing compared to the feelings you felt as your boyfriend slowly lowered to his knees. Kissing up and down your legs. “Are you doing ok?” he asks between kisses up your thighs.

“Y-yeah I'm good,” you said quietly, eyes watching Johnnie like a hawk. He smirks against your skin. He slowly pushes your skirt up your body revealing your bare legs. He placed a tender kiss on the top of your cunt.

You swore you could see stars with the amount of pleasure That coursed through you. The end of your fingers and toes felt tingly and cold. Johnnie moved up to face again, he slowly started to kiss you again. “M’gonna move my hand now. Like my fingers ok?” he said against your lips.

“Ok,” you whispered back, and you spread your legs widely for him. He slowly dipped his finger into your sopping cunt. You let out a gasp at the sensation. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. It felt good but it wasn't enough for you.

As if Johnnie could read your mind, he pumped out of you once again. When he entered back in he had two fingers this time. It stung for a second or two then pleasure returned to your body as he started to curve his finger into you.

“Oh fuck.” you moaned out, you can guess how people get addicted to this feeling. You felt like a little pervy teenager with raging hormones. The feeling of Johnnie hitting your G-spot repeatedly was sending you over the edge.

“Johnnie.” you mewled out, to nothing in particular. “I need more please,” you begged, having a sense of missing something. “If you insist on it my love.” he pulled out of you, his fingers dripping wet. You watched as he crouched down further.

He kissed slowly on your thighs before reaching your clit. He pressed a soft kiss right on your spot. You felt yourself clench over nothing and it drove you wild. He continued kissing down until he reached your hole. He slowly prodded his tongue into you.

Very gently at first to help you get used to the feeling. You felt the pleasure tenfold as soon as he began to rub your clit, fully pumping his tongue in and out of you. “Oh fuck hold on,” you murmured to him.

He stopped cocking his head slightly. You quickly snap off your corset, immediately releasing tension in your gut. You quickly pulled your shirt off, your bra going with it.

You were now naked minus the skirt bunched up around your waist. “M’fuck.” he whispered looking at your tits. He had what looked like a painful erection at this point. His skinny jeans looked like they were gonna burst open.

“You ready?” you asked him, gesturing to his painfully hard erection. “Fuck yeah,” he whined undoing his studded belt, he started to further undress himself. You followed suit pushing your skirt down.

Once he was completely naked, he leaned down and started to kiss you again. He wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped a few times attempting to get ready for your body. After about a minute he lined up his leaking cock to your entrance.

He slowly pushed into you. You let out a wanton gasp as he bottomed out. “Fuck.” he growled into your ear. He fumbled around trying to find your hand and brought it down to your clit. You started to rub to your pleasure.

At the same time, he started to push into you slowly at first then after a minute he began to push into you at a quicker pace. “Fuck your so tight. So glad I get this pussy all to myself,” he whined into your ear. You couldn't hold yourself anymore. The coil in your stomach was going to snap.

You felt The familiar feeling bubbling in your stomach and your limbs. “Im gonna fucking cum.” you whined out, grabbing at his torso and leaving a long scratch. Johnnie held your eye contact nodding at you.

The coil finally snapped, your walls clenching around him. “Johnnie-” you whined, your back arching. Your body shaking from your orgasm, sent him completely over the edge.

Hit ropes of cum splattered inside you as he fucked you through his own orgasm. Your breath slowly returned back to your body as you saw Johnnie cleaning your body up with a damp towel.

“Are you ok?” he asked quietly, tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He misses but he just took his girlfriend's virginity so he isn't particularly worried about where it landed. “Yeah I'm fucking great right now actually,” you murmured.

He giggles pulling his clothes back on. You did the same, pulling out your phone to see your makeup completely fucked. Your eyeliner and mascara dripped down, the sweat sucking your makeup into your skin, your lipstick beyond fucked.

You pulled out your phone and snapped one last photo for your Instagram

#johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie x you #jake and johnnie #johnnie x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x goth!reader

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darylbrainrot · 4 months

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CHAPTER 01: WIP

AIYGIWGWY || GOJO X READER

How would you—a part time guitarist and streamer, react when an upcoming streamer known as gojo admitted to liking your music and streams?

As he sat down on his chair with it dipping with his added weight, he reached to his PC to start it up. He was about 20 minutes early to stream so he had to get his streaming apps ready. He wanted to keep this stream chill, he was probably some background music playing to make his stream calming (as calming as possible with his screams from playing fortnite.) As he made the sudden decision to play music on his stream, he opened Spotify as soon as his computer turned on.

He opened one of his designated playlists for streaming, some relaxing music ranging from different artists. He made sure this playlist wasn't going to get him flagged on his Twitch, something he didn't want to happen again.

He finally had his necessities opened, his discord and Spotify opened on his first monitor, his Twitch ready to stream on his third monitor, and finally his main monitor with his game loading up. When he looked at the time, he had around 6 minutes to spare before starting up his stream. With his extra time, he decided to go out of his room to his shared dorm with suguru to grab some snacks.

As he made his way to the shared kitchen, he just decided to grab a Gatorade and some random candies he had stored for when he was craving them. As he was going to retreat back to his room, he heard his fellow roommate's door open.

"Suguru, you should join my stream please." He said, dragging out the please for dramatic effect.

"Hell nah, ima go to sleep anyway." The black-haired man says with a blank stare, passing Satoru as he makes a b line towards the restroom.

"What the flip man." Sighing as he made it back to his room to start up his stream.

—————————

"BROO, no fucking way he got me. He literally only got me for 50 shield." He said, falling back in his chair as his 2nd place ranking got displayed on his screen. His hands now going through his face, raking through his white hair. The soft melodies of 'Cologne' by Beabadoobee fill the stream when he is quiet. The song finished up when one of your songs replaced the quietness, it was a cover you made of 'Paul' by Big Theif.

This is when his chat started flooding with new messages, ranging from questions asking him if he liked your music to how long he's been listening to you. As his arms finally fell from his hair, he looked at his chat when he saw the flood of new texts.

"I didn't know you listened to y/n's music... of course, I listen to their music, she's like one of my favorite artists." He said after reading some questions in his chat. Snickering at his chats surprised reaction, "I'm surprised some of you guys didn't know this, I follow them on twitter and on insta and I know some of you guys stalk my following and shit" He said as he was going back to the home screen of his game, deciding that it was enough of fortnite for him after playing around 10 rounds.

“Have you seen shes working on a new song? She posted about it on her twitter” he mumbled, reading one of the texts that caught his eye. “Yeah I saw her post, hopefully she posts a clip of her song. I know it’s gonna be good though.” He grins, exited that one of his favorite artist might release a song soon.

"Anyways, ima stopping the stream here, I'm done with fortnite for today. I might stream again in the weekend though, I'll tweet about it if I do." Waving at his face cam as he ended the stream, making sure to double-check it was off. He closed off any extra tabs he had open before shutting down his PC. Once he was finally done with his computer, he stood up and went to scroll on his phone on his bed, finally relieving the ache in his back due to his bad posture.

< prev || masterlist || next >

Interact with this post to be a part of my taglist.

this isnt proof read so lmk if theres any mistakes D:

------------------

TAGLIST: OPEN

@bakananya, @lysaray, @reagan707, @cccccccccccleo, @samutoru, @sunaluvrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, @sur-i-ki, @rybunnie, @ramchu,

#gojosatoru #gojo #satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smau #jjk x reader #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen #smau #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk text #jjk tweets #jujutsu kaisen posts #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk ff #jujutsu kaisen ff

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spadesolace · 7 months

Text

polaroid love - bonus chapter. the shade

spade speaks: ANOTHER LATE POST BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY HANNI! MY WIFE FR, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES.

while y/n waits for her flight from korea to japan to leave, scrolling on her phone, she stumbled upon a video about her and hanni. it wasn’t like the public didn’t know they’re close, after the mama performance everyone sort of assumed that the groups that participated became close.

10 minutes of nmixx y/n and newjeans hanni acting like a married couple

clip 1: mama behind the scenes

in the somewhat back of the dance practice, a very blurry clip of y/n and hanni can be seen talking to each other. hanni is holding something somewhat clutching it in fear of possibly losing it while y/n is taking pics of her. with the pictures of hanni holding onto her koala plushie and y/n with her miffy plush can be seen being next to each other.

the scene was then changed to the pair still in the mama practice room talking, some may consider a bit too close for comfort as y/n hands her an onigiri.

these two acting like a married couple in front of my kimchi

clip 2: hanni’s vlog in LA

it starts off with hanni holding the camera close to her face, she’s inside a car, a bit unfamiliar as it is not the usual car bunnies see on their contents.

“you think if i played some songs the company would be mad?” hanni looked at the owner of the voice with a teasing smile, as if she knows what they’ll do even if she tells them off.

“don’t even try.” a somewhat familiar chuckle is heard but it could be easily mistaken for someone else.

ok, it might be a stretch that this is y/n.

“what if i played the songs i’ve written and produced?” hanni looked like she was thinking it through and she nodded.

as the familiar beat of love countdown starts to play, hanni is heard screaming and stopping the radio. which quickly revealed y/n laughing while driving.

“maybe not that.”

“alright, how about this?”

polaroid love lowly plays in the background.

confirmed that it was indeed y/n driving!!!

clip 3: hanni’s vlog in LA, GUCCI campaign

hanni starts off the vlog with her in the outfit chosen for her, showing her entire fit on camera, with little to no idea that someone had entered the frame. wearing a blue checkered coat with a bit of leather padding and pocket covers, with her hair a bit slicked back and a few strands of bangs popping out.

hanni shouted upon seeing y/n, who only laughed at her [girlfriend].

“you look stunning.” y/n was in awe, seeing hanni despite having somewhat similar fits for the campaign, she is just left standing there admiring the girl.

“thank you, you look amazing as well.” hanni opened her arms as y/n hugged her looking at the camera with a teasing smile.

i’m surprised the company kept the clip

it was then cut to hanni and y/n in different outfits, a part of the campaign just to get the ambassadors close. some of which are being directed that they get a bit touchy as the pair are known to be somewhat best friends already. y/n being the playful person that she is, as the wave goodbye to the end of the content being filmed, she kissed hanni’s hand that was holding onto hers.

THAT’S SUSPICIOUS!

clip 4: y/n gucci campaign behind the scenes

“hello nswers, i’m currently at LA, just finished doing the campaign and i’m about to head out to get dinner with someone.”

y/n is showing her fit in front of the full body mirror in her hotel room, strutting like a model until she almost tripped.

“probably should have looked where i was going. ANYWAYS! nswers, i’m trying to match my fit with my uh-” y/n paused placing the camera down and sitting in front of it, thinking of the right term for it.

“ah yes, my date. you’ve probably seen some clips but i’m with newjeans’ hanni.”

with like… together in a relationship or together like just within the same vicinity?

“we’ll go sightseeing, just hang out and take a few pics here and there. our managers are with us so we’ll be safe, no need to worry nswers.”

the clip showed the pair from a fan’s point of view where the two are holding their cameras with managers a bit behind and holding each other’s hand. followed by another clip of the pair without cameras and just the two of them still holding hands and laughing.

maybe they’re just really… really… really close friends.

hanni had seen an octopus hat with y/n and joked about buying it just to have matching hats. the faint “why not?” turned out that one has to win in the fair in order to win the hats which they both said no as to not waste any money.

i swear these two are the most practical and chaotic pair.

clip 5: nmixx midsummer dream behind

y/n is seen beside hanni as she teaches the choreography to super shy, while lily and danielle are conversing on one side with kyujin and haerin. although the camera focuses on haewon talking about the challenge being done by the two aussies and the 06 liners, one could see the two messing with each other.

“for someone who produced the song, you sure can’t keep up with the fast choreo.” y/n could only give hanni the side eye as the group settled and prepared for the challenge.

“with the amount of things i have to do, han, this is the least of my worries.”

“stop bantering like a married couple, we get it.”

just kyujin’s comment alone says a lot about the pair’s dynamic.

the behind the scenes showed y/n wrapping her arm around hanni’s waist as they watched kyujin and haerin do the challenge with cat paw gloves. looking like a married couple and adoring their children who are having fun and playing around.

married couple for real, i don’t make the rules

clip 6: last one, gucci milan fashion week

blonde hanni has made her appearance during milan fashion week, with that many cameras, it was no surprise that many would capture y/n’s reaction to it. as hanni made her entrance before y/n, walking inside the venue being followed by the nmixx member who didn’t recognize the girl right away.

“y/n! have you seen hanni?” the idol smiled as she gave the signed cd back to its rightful owner and shook her head as a response.

“sadly, i haven’t seen her.”

“Y/N!”

the nmixx member turned around to see hanni walking towards her along with her bodyguards behind. y/n seemed frozen in the clip, touching hanni’s hair and jaw dropped being aware that it’s the real deal. putting hanni’s hair behind her ear as y/n admired the girl, forgetting they’re in a public area and people are taking videos of the interaction.

“wow…”

“you like what you see?” y/n nodded as hanni hugged her and the fans were losing it. the two continued on with their interaction with fans, even taking pics.

if these two aren’t dating, i’ve lost all faith in the world.

bonus clip: y/n’s birthday live

y/nbunny: unnie, did any of your friends greet you?

y/n is seen looking at her manager if she can talk about it. her smile got brighter as if she got approval to talk about idols that weren’t under the same company.

“yeah, quite a lot greeted me but you know that feeling when you’re waiting for a specific person to greet you?”

the chat flooded with agreement, some were talking about their experience and y/n could only laugh at the comments.

“i’m waiti-” y/n looked down on her phone where she read comments and fell quiet. looking at her manager for confirmation, sliding her phone towards them.

yoothebest: what do you think she got?

hae_stressed_won: im worried for y/n

bae_stie: maybe its a surprise???

lily.potter: lmao imagine if it’s the person she’s waiting for

tricksterynn: IMAGINE ITS AN IDOL COMING OVER

“sorry about that, just had some technical difficulties. going back, yeah i’m wai-” the lights turned off and y/n looked up and out. “i can’t even finish my statement without something interrupting me.”

the abrupt singing of happy birthday from the staff startled y/n but what surprised her more was the person holding the cake and placing it on the table. her mouth moving with now a brighter smile on her face.

anyone who can’t lipread, y/n just said what are you doing here. han?

“i- uh- wow. there’s a note.” y/n showed the camera the two notes, one from newjeans and the other from nmixx. her smile brighter than before and looking at the staff.

there’s no confirmation whether it actually is hanni, but just the cake and a brighter smile after that. they’re my parents, i want them to stay that way.

END.

the video ended just at the right time as the plane was about to leave. y/n put her headphones on as watched the scenery change from her seat, patiently waiting to see and greet hanni for her birthday, just to surprise the girl.

taglist: [CLOSED]

@lesbianslovesminji @sserajeans @trsrina @invusblog @haerinstolemyhrt @txtbrainrot @ddenoudepression @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @lcv3lies @rd0265667 @somsomishy @dream-chasers-things @captivq @limbforalimb @dmndtears @buuhsworld @oshyci @ksnu @falling-intoo-deep @sserafimez @hyukasverse @forever-in-the-sky2 @cixl-writes @wolfimini @j-wyoung @jisooftme @justme-idle @myahwritesss @paranoxic @edamboon @iluvhanni1

#newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans #pham hanni newjeans #nwjns #hanni #newjeans smau #pham hanni #hanni pham #hanni x reader #newjeans hanni #hanni imagines #polaroid love smau

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thesupreme316 · 7 months

Note

Can you write how the AEW guys would react to the reader playfully smacking their ass like Bucky did to Seth Rollins that one time (please include MJF hehe)

AEW Stars React To: Their S/O Smacking Their Butt

Pairings: MJF x Reader, Max Caster x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Nick Wayne x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Hook x Reader

Word Count: 750

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, here you are and i hope you all enjoy it. I should have another react post by tomorrow. lemme know what else yall want to see. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none i think, suggestive content

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @batzy-watzy @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff

I think this is the most I have ever written the word ass

MJF:

Mans would feel accomplished

Like that finally, someone has acknowledged his ass is on another level

We all know how much pride he takes in his ass just look at the edits on TikTok

If you do it in private, he will definitely laugh and try to slap your back

(Honestly he might twerk like a drunk girl)

If in public, he might be embarrassed or confused for a split second…but he’ll go right back to being arrogant

He’ll tweet about it, tagging Max Caster so he can get jealous

Will start wearing more tight-fitting pants so he can tease you more

Eddie Kingston:

Mans finds it funny but is always confused about why/how you do it before he can do it to you

Full-on laughs and cracks a smile when/after you do it

Now you two are in a competition to see who can smack the other’s ass more often

You typically drive-by slaps or wait until he’s reading/watching wrestling to slap it

He does it when you are on the phone or talking to friends

Eddie loves it because it’s y’all’s way of PDA or showing good vibes

I don’t think y’all would do it out in public like in front of fans

But the one chance you did…boi was he a mess

Christian Cage:

Christian would just stare at you with no expression

He was just looking at you as if he was saying “Really”

OR he’ll stare at you in an offended way

He’s surprised that you did it

“How dare you?”

I can totally see him “scolding” you

Says his ass is off limits and promises to “punish” you the next time you did it

To test your luck…you did it again…and let's say you couldn’t sit down for a good while

Nick Wayne:

Lil boi is so cute and he gets all shy

Immediately he blushes and gets all whiney

Face all red while saying

“I can’t believe you did that”

I think he would be too shy to smack yours back

Prolly would chase you around

Would stop after you smacked his ass twice more

Ever since then, he just accepted the smacks….with a red blushing face of course

Hook:

Nonchalant as a mothafucka

But to him, it’s a normal thing, so he doesn’t care

He just continues talking to his friends after he smacks yours as you walk away

To Hook…it’s equality

Mans just loves to have his hands on you in general

If you did it to him while y’all were in the ring…he would break character and laugh

The internet would have a field day with the clip, making it go viral

Now if you slap it extra hard, Hook would just simply pick you up and show you how a real master of the booty slapping arts does it

Ricky Starks:

Alexa…play Bongos by Cardi B

Like Hook, Ricky’s not fazed

In fact, he eats it up and then some

I can see Ricky just winking at you..and ever so gently…SPEARING YOU ON THE BED

He slaps yours back twice as hard

In public….he would pull you towards him and tell you all the things he’s gonna do to you

Particularly finds it funny when you continuously smack his ass while ya’ll are laying down

I def see it as a postcard or a couple Christmas card (merry smackmas)

Max Caster:

THIS HORNY FUCK

Would deadass put his ass out even further for you to slap again

“I can see you’re getting a little handsy”

Looks at you suggestively, probably would moon you

Probably would chase you down just to slap your ass back

If you do it in public, he’s throwing ass like a real one

OOOOOOO I BET HE WOULD LET OUT VERY LOUD AND EXAGGERATED HIGH PITCH MOAN

Which causes you to become embarrassed and swiftly leave the scene

He would at the rest of The Acclaimed and wiggle his brows…looking for someone else to smack his ass

bonus: I truly think he would be like Richard from Wasabi Productions (back from like 2011)

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #all elite wrestling imagines #aew hook #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #eddie kingston imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks imagine #max caster #max caster imagine #aew mjf #maxwell jacob friedman #mjf imagine #aew nick wayne #nick wayne imagine #christian cage #christian cage imagine

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Only Lovers Left Alive

cowboy!vamp!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

He offers her another option between life and death. How could she refuse?

warnings | 18+ smut, slight dubcon initially, gore, blood, dark themes in general, you've been warned muah hahahaha

wordcount: 4.5K

a/n | vamp!joel has me by the throat (pun intended) and though this is my last fic before my two month break, i have decided to turn this into a series that will span the decades! i already have 1920s, 1950s, and 1970s vamp bb waiting in the wings for when i get back in august :) BTW this first one is set in the 1870s ish - ALSO, @toxicanonymity posted a mind-melting vamp!joel fic last night that y'all should check out if you have a taste for the ~darker~ things in life. k, love you, bye

.........................................

A condemnation. An exile. Execution and exultation all wrapped up in one. She knew that if she rode out of town she need never look back. A white dress hanging on the bureau in her room the last thing she saw before she slipped out into the night. Her daddy’s gun and her brother’s horse and a scrawled note for her mama left behind. Do not look for me, I am already gone.

She has every intention to be dead by the time the sun unfurls over the plains. The only true escape for a woman in this world, a loveless marriage nipping at her heels on her way out. She rides hard in the inky darkness until the flickering lanterns of the town are only a blink in the distance.

Her hands are shaking as she dismounts, eyes skittering over the lip of the canyon she stands above. A bullet and a fall. If it’s so easy, why can she feel the cool slip of tears as she presses that steel mouth to her temple? Just like she learned from her daddy, thumb back the hammer to load that single, sweet bullet. And a pull, as easy as a loose tooth snapping free.

But before she can, her horse lets out a nervous chitter, head swinging side to side. A man, silent, palms open and up, comes inching toward her out from behind a copse of sagebrush.

“Don’t come any closer!” He stops dead in his tracks, lips parted, eyes wide and glinting in the moonlight.

“Easy, miss. Don’t want any trouble. Just wanted to offer my help.” It’s such a strange thing to say to a woman with a gun nosing at her temple that she finds herself letting out a humorless laugh.

“Do I look like I need any help right now?” It surprises her, the smile that softens his features, eyes crinkling up, soaked in kindness, and understanding.

“With all due respect, miss, you seem perfectly capable. But you should know that pistol of yours ain’t loaded.” She almost doesn’t want to check, a hot rush of embarrassment skittering up her spine when she does and sees that the man is right. She can already feel the tight sting of tears, something uglier and more desperate than frustration settling in her stomach.

“You probably think I’m a fool, don’t you?” The man takes another step forward, still with his hands up, still with that kind look in his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re a fool. Think you’re hurting like a lot of other folks out on these plains.” Another two steps closer and he extends his hand out to her, and for some reason, she takes it.

“Name’s Joel Miller, miss. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, even under such circumstances.” Deep, dark brown eyes that swallow her up. She finds herself telling him her name before she can even think not to.

“I ain’t gonna try to talk you out of anything. What I can offer you are some bullets, and maybe a meal if you’d like to stick around a little longer.” All charm, the quicksilver of his smile crooking in the pale light and she has to force herself to let go of his hand. She tries to take a few stumbling steps back, oblivious to the cliff-side her heel skids right over, a clipped yelp jolting through her chest before strong arms are wrapping around her waist and tugging her back from the edge.

“Woah there, miss. I think you’d prefer a bullet to a fall like that.” The way he so easily talks about it makes her stomach flip, something slippery settling that isn’t altogether unpleasant.

“I don’t have money and I ain’t that type of girl if you’re thinking you’ll get something out of helping me.” He laughs, a low thrumming thing, his palms still gripping her waist, his legs brushing against her skirts.

“Ain’t that type of man, miss, I promise. Just another lonely soul like yourself.” His hands slip away from her, stepping back, a chill running up her spine that makes her flush.

“Tell you what, I’ve got a camp a few yards ahead. A quick ride on that horse of yours. You can think on it and when we get there, I’ll get you your bullets and if you’re inclined to it, a warm meal.” She knows she can’t go home, not now, something worse than death waiting for her there. And something about this man, Joel, is making her want to say yes.

“Alright, you have a deal. But just because my gun isn’t loaded doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use it in other ways so you better not try anything.” A grin, all teeth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, miss.”

He’s strong, she can feel it in the bulk of his thighs settling behind her on her horse, the steady, solid front of him pressed against her back. By the time they canter into a small rock outcropping, her mind is hazy with the feel of muscle pushing and pulling against her.

True to his word, the first thing he does after helping her down from her horse is to rustle around in his pack, taking out a silvery pistol and giving her two bullets from his own barrel, palms brushing in the trade.

“Those oughta work just fine in that gun of yours, though I am waiting on your answer.” That same slanted smile of his, eyes flicked up with the tilt of his chin.

“Please, miss. Pity a poor, lonely man. Just a bite.” How could she say no to that?

In the warm glow of the fire, shadows and light reveal just how handsome he is. The strong hook of his nose, the cut of his jaw beneath that patchy scruff of his. And those eyes, flickering in the flames, watching her every move.

She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, and though it’s sparse, rough fixings, she finds herself scraping up every last bite. No one to tell her to chew with her mouth closed, no table to get her elbows smacked off of, just this strange, silent man staring at her.

“Aren’t you hungry too?”

“Oh no, miss, I’m quite alright.” It makes her pause, her breath hitching, as she stares down at her already empty plate, her stomach rolling in a quick lurch.

“You– I–”

“You worried I poisoned you?” He says it with that same grin, and she’d like to scramble onto her feet and onto her horse and get as far away from him as she can. But the cool prickle running up her spine keeps her seated right where she is, trying to stammer out some sort of response. Joel is quick to silence her stumblings with another laugh though, teeth glinting in the swerving light of the fire.

“That’s alright, miss. But you should know I don’t want to harm you. I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Uh-huh. What if I told you that I could offer you another way out that doesn’t involve putting a bullet in that pretty head of yours?” Those eyes of his are catching her again, soothing the stilted beat in her ribs.

“W-what would it involve?”

“Well that’s a bit hard to explain, miss. But I assure you, it’s nothing you wouldn’t enjoy, thoroughly.” His hand reaches out, fingers tracing along the hinge of her jaw, brushing down the side of her neck before dipping under the neckline of her dress, flickering back and forth, back and forth along her skin.

“If you ask me, a sweet thing like you deserves more out of this cruel, cruel world.”

“M-more?” Shifting closer to her, his arm draping over her shoulders, pulling her into the haze of him, that silvery grin up close.

“Don’t you want to feel good, miss?” His lips so close she can feel the brush of them along her cheek, his fingers curling tighter around her shoulder. And then, with a stuttered nod of her head, she sinks into him completely.

She’s only had frivolous, playground kisses before. Quick, daring pecks followed by a fast dash away before anyone could catch them. This is not that. He devours her, licking into her mouth in a way that both shocks and soothes, his palm coming to hold her jaw firm in place as his lips move against hers. And she takes it, all of it, letting him move her to his will, his lips a wandering drag beneath the hinge of her jaw, lingering along the arc of her neck before dipping down to the tops of her heaving breasts pressing against the neckline of her dress.

“How sweet you are, my darlin. Sweet everywhere, ain’t you?” There’s nothing she could possibly say to that, her mind spinning in jagged gasps of sensation when he brings his hands to the front of her dress and rips clean down the front of it, corset and all, leaving her in just the thin gauze of her slip. She finds something like courage, a small ember of it smoldering enough for her to start tugging at the shoulders of his leather coat, earning a chuckle from him when he finally gets the hint and shrugs out of it.

“I need your words, darlin, else I can’t do this. Do you want this?” She’s not even entirely sure what this is, only that her mind is swimming in it, in him, and she wants more of it.

“Yes, Joel, I want this, I do.” He pulls her in for another bruising kiss, lips curled in that grin as he coaxes her to lay out on the cold desert ground, though she doesn’t mind with the way her body is burning up beneath his touch.

She’s never done this before, guided only by the sharp tug in her belly, that aching want intensifying as he rucks her slip up beneath her collar bones and begins a salacious trail down her skin. His lips close around the peak of one of her nipples, a gasp dragging through her throat as his tongue laves over the bud. But it’s a rattling shock when he dips just a bit lower, teeth sinking into the full curve of her breast before his tongue sweeps over the sting, soothing, soothing, soothing.

Lower and lower, a path of his open mouth mapped across her skin until he’s settled between her thighs, the broadness of his shoulders spreading open the hinge of her hips.

“No one’s had you like this, have they, darlin?” His eyes are blown black, unwavering, turning her shy and small beneath his question, her chin tucking into her shoulder as she shakes her head. He lets out a low groan at her response that makes her thighs clench, jolting in the wide grip of his palms.

“I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is let it feel good.” That’s about all the warning he gives her before his tongue drags a flat stripe through her cunt, her spine arching with the dizzying sensation as he settles his lips over a spot that makes her gasp. Over and over again, his tongue swirls against that aching point of pleasure, his palms turning harsh in their grip on her thighs as her muscles start to shake from it. Her eyes roll back, up to the stars in the pitch-black sky, ears thrumming with the obscene sounds of his lips smacking with her arousal. And it hits her all at once, everything going tight and hot with sensation before she unfurls for him with a sigh of his name, body languid and liquid as he continues to lap at her dripping cunt.

“Feels good, huh, darlin? Can make you feel so much better though.” She groans when his mouth meets hers again, open, wanting, receiving, the taste of herself on his lips making her mind swim. It’s primal, pre-human, the want she feels for the thick heat of him that’s settled between her legs, her hips canting up to chase that pressure.

“Please, Joel, I want to feel good.” She’s almost crying with it. Nothing has felt like this, ever. And he’s more than willing to give her what she wants.

“Gonna take my time with you, darlin. Make it feel real good.” He plants one palm next to her temple in the red earth, his other hand fumbling to unfasten his pants and shuck them down enough so his cock can rest, heavy and flushed against the soft inside of her thigh. She has to bite back a whimper just looking at the sheer size of him.

“Don’t you worry, darlin. Remember what I said, huh? Not gonna harm you, just help you. Relax for me, that’s it.” A stretch, a searing, sick pleasure as he begins to drive his cock into her fluttering cunt. But he’s gentle, so gentle, a slow spread that has her mewling beneath him.

“There you go, taking all of it. Made for me, ain’t you? My angel, all mine.” She can’t help the moan that tears through her chest when he grinds his hips deep and driving, a pulsing, aching fullness that has her digging her nails into his shoulder blades. But that ache bursts into a snarling fire of want when he drags his hips back, only to roll them forward on a much faster, much deepers thrust, already settling them into a dizzying rhythm of push and pull.

“Joel, please I– feels so good, oh my go–”

“Just my name, darlin. Say my name and nothing else.” She does, long drawn out preens of it as he fucks her, that same pleasure pulling taut up and down her spine.

“Again, darlin, just like this.” His words are murmured into her throat, that beating, pumping crook in her neck, and her body responds in kind, unraveling for him all over again as he continues the hot drag of his cock through her cunt. As she starts to come, those open-mouthed kisses snap into something else. Teeth, a graze, and then a sinking, startling pain. All she can do is hold on, her whole body going limp in his arms as that pain radiates into a burning singe. A rushing settles into her ears, dark pinpricks around her vision, barely registering the warbled moan he lets out as she feels something warm smear against her stomach.

“I think I’ll keep you, darlin.”

And then perfect darkness.

…

Like fingers skittering up her throat, she wakes up to a thirst so singular, so consuming, she actually brings her hand to her neck, wincing when her fingers brush what feels like a bruise across her skin.

“You’re awake.” It startles her so badly she jumps, curling up and scrambling back until she’s pressed against a large boulder. Joel sits, crouched, studying her, face schooled and steeled.

“I– how long was I asleep?” Her voice cracks, that thirst making her words weak and warbled.

“About two days. Slept like the dead when I was done with you.” His words crackle with his grin and she has to shake her head to refocus on figuring out where the hell she is. Looking down at her body, she finds herself in men’s clothes, slacks and boots, a button up, all too big for her, most likely Joel’s. And then she remembers what he had done to her dress and her thoughts go hazy again.

“W-where are we, Joel?”

“Just a few miles west. You hungry?”

“No, I’m– I’m thirsty.” His grin goes big and bright at that, silvery slick in the moonlight.

“I bet you are, darlin. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll give you something to drink?” The promise of this need, this burning urge being slaked is enough for her to close the distance between them, letting him maneuver her shivering body into his lap.

“Just give your body what it wants. Easy as reaching out and taking it.” Her palms press against his chest, a futile struggle as he guides her face into the crook of his neck with his hand cupping the back of her head. But something else takes over in her, a fire flickering up her throat when her lips press against the thin skin of his neck. And it is what her body wants, lips parting, teeth snarling and sinking in.

“That’s it, darlin. My angel’s a natural, huh?” When she finally pulls away, eyes hooded and heavy with satisfaction, she finds herself smiling up at him, something slick and sweet simmering in her veins.

“Thank you, Joel.” Teeth, all teeth.

“Of course, darlin. Gonna be you and me from now on.”

…

He offered her another option. Something between life and death. That is where she lives now. This is how she lives now. With him.

When they must, they travel in the day, wide-brimmed hats tilted down, bandanas tied over their faces, long leather coats and gloves. Otherwise, they move in the night, over the vast, whimpering plains, whetting their particular appetites whenever they can, jumping towns before their faces can be known.

A year, maybe two, maybe even three. What use do they have for time? Caught in an endless tangle, just the two of them, and that blazing thirst.

But there is one thing they have their sights set on. Making their way back, retracing their path, her path to him, until they find themselves on the outskirts of a town she swore she’d never see again.

No guns, they don’t need them. Horses set loose, they won’t be needing them either. As the sun dips down over the plains, they walk through the main drag of town. He let her call the shots, agreeing when she insisted they come for the men only. Let the women and children run so long as they stay out of their way.

It’s a long night. One that ends in her childhood home. And by the time the sun is coming up, one would find the ranch house with the front door ajar in a silent yawn, her mama and her sisters having fled. And on the porch, still holding his shotgun, her daddy’s splayed out body. Perhaps luckily, she didn’t have any brothers. Just the man she was supposed to marry.

“I’m so full, Joel. I don’t know if I can have another bite.”

“Hmm, you wanna save him for later?”

“I think I can make room.” Fear, like the cream top on a fresh gallon of milk. So, so sweet and rolling in waves off the man’s trembling body, Joel pinning him against the wall of her childhood bedroom as she paces back and forth. They haven’t had this much to drink in ages, and she feels dizzy, drunk off it, smacking her lips with the lingering taste.

“What are you people? W-what happened to yo–” Joel cuts off the man’s blubbering by jostling him back against the wall, teeth bare, something like a growl pulling from his chest.

“Now, Joel. Didn’t your mama teach you not to play with your food?” She grins, and he mirrors her in turn, looking over his shoulder at her. A hum in her throat, she glances around her old room, eyes settling on the wardrobe, her hands itching with a small want. She’s already moving over to it, opening it, and sure enough, that white dress is tucked inside.

“That’s pretty, darlin. Why don’t you put it on for me?” It’s nothing for Joel to hold the man against the wall, one forearm pinning him by his neck as he turns to watch her, her fingers already flickering through the buttons of her shirt. She strips completely bare, savoring the two sets of eyes trailing her every move as she slips the simple white frock over her body.

“Look like an angel, darlin. Doesn’t she, boy?” Joel punctuates his question with a harsh press of his arm into the man’s windpipe, making him wheeze out a stuttered yes.

“All this talk has worked up my appetite again.”

“This one’s all yours, darlin.”

Blooming red flowers all down her dress, a trail of it down her chin that Joel laps up with a satisfied groan. They turn greedy with it, desperate to get the other bare, and when every thread of clothing is in a pool around their feet, he circles around her, his lips pressing into the striped scars on her back, a mapping of her history that she finally got to repay.

“How’s it taste?”

“You were right, Joel. There’s nothing sweeter.”

“Except for you, darlin.”

She’s not that shy little girl anymore. She knows how to take her pleasure, how to pull it from her man. And tonight, both of their bodies painted and slick with their feast, she does just that. All teeth, sharp, scraping nips when her mouth meets his, her hands tangled up in his hair to tug him closer with a low groan. Push and pull, a stubborn tangle onto the bed, her hands splaying out on his chest, nails digging in enough to make him hiss beneath her. Their skin sticks and slides with all the dribbling blood. They’ve always been messy eaters.

“Look at you, darlin. Like a fucking painting in my lap. So beautiful.” He swipes his thumb over her nipple, collecting a stray trickle of red and sucking it into his mouth with a thrum in his throat. And she in turn dips down to lick up the line of his neck, salt and metal on her tongue. So perfectly sated, she feels dazed with it, a slow-flickering want rolling in her belly as she drags her dripping cunt along his cock, just a taste of the pleasure they’re both chasing. But they’re both too far gone, too full of that ache for her to tease much more, sinking down onto him slow and smooth with a preen curling her spine.

“I’m so, so full, Joel. Fuck, so good.” Her whole body hums with it, the harsh press of his fingers into the curve of her ass, his eyes watching the tight bounce of her breasts each time her hips drop against his, and his cock grazing so deep inside her, that pleasure that snarls with just a tinge of pain.

“Take it, darlin. Fucking take all of it. My angel’s so good, always so good for me.” Planting his feet into the mattress, his thighs settle against her back as he starts to meet her thrusts, a broken cry dragging from her chest as she lurches forward in his hold.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m so close, Joel. Please don’t stop.” Words she presses against his throat, collapsed on top of him as he fucks up into her, chasing that pleasure with snarling teeth so he can lay it at her feet. It snaps all at once, her whole body going tight and taut around him, a close cry of his name as he fucks her through it. She doesn’t drink, just a simple creature comfort to sink her teeth into the curve of his neck, a lick of pain that sends him right over the edge with her.

They lay like that for a while, chest to chest, mouths sliding lazily together until sunlight starts to flicker through the window. She gets up with a sigh, his softening cock finally slipping out of her as she steps off the bed to close the shutters tight.

“I need a little taste.”

“Reckon there’s some left over, darlin.” The body is still warm, slumped on the floor. She crouches over it, still bare, flecks of red drying and flaking off her skin. His wrist, pale and perfect, untouched, just the place to sink her teeth and pull. Sweet satisfaction singing in her bones, she hums as she slips back into bed, curling up against her man and letting him lick the remnants from her mouth.

The story goes that a town lays somewhere tucked in the rolling dips of the plains that one day went dead. Women and children fleeing, and a fate far worse for the men. You can go searching for it in the daylight, when all lays still and silent, maybe catch a glimpse of a skeleton long picked over by some larger predator. Just don’t stay long enough to see the sun slip over the hills unless you’d like to meet a pair of lovers with a taste for a violence so pure, and an appetite that surely can’t be human.

“You and me, darlin. Forever.”

“Forever, Joel.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller series #joel miller imagine

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ivantillz · 25 days

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find me;

ivantill, 4.1k, inspired by this post by @ivanttakethis Ivan returns - alive - after round 6 despite all odds but something is different about him. Wrong. Till is on his own to figure out what happened and how to fix it.

Till didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling – that wasn’t quite true; he had an idea. He was numb. He thought he’d been numb, before, but after watching Ivan die… now he knew what true numbness felt like.

He might not have expressed it enough, looking back. Just how much he appreciated having Ivan around. Maybe, he hadn’t even known yet how terribly empty this place would feel without him.

And now he would never get to tell him. He would never even get to talk to him again.

It was over, and frankly Till was too tired to keep fighting. It didn’t matter. His next opponent was Luka and he wasn’t naive enough to think he could win.

Strangely, he felt an odd sense of calm alongside the numbness. He was ready to go. He was ready to see if the aliens were truthful about this one thing, at least. Was there much of anything after death or just eternal darkness?

Nothingness?

Maybe that really would be better. To feel nothing. Be nothing.

Till heard a familiar bell; it was dinnertime. He curled up tighter, hugging his knees and closed his eyes. He wasn’t hungry.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when he was finally jostled awake. He blinked, once, twice, eyes having a hard time adjusting to the brightness of day.

When he lifted his head, he was met with the face of a girl about his age, dark hair and dark eyes. Unassuming. He was pretty sure he’d seen her around once or twice. They’d never talked.

“I thought you might, um.” She was wringing her hands nervously. Till shouldn’t care. He had given up caring about anything, especially whatever she was struggling to tell him.

He sniffed. “If you have nothing to say, please go away.” He just wanted to go back to sleep. Sleeping was the only time he didn’t feel completely hopeless. At least in his dreams, he wasn’t alone.

“I know we haven’t talked much or anything,” she continued, speaking just a little too fast, “but I thought you might want to see this. You, um. You were close to him, right?”

She didn’t say his name. She didn’t need to.

Till didn’t even bother answering. He just blankly stared at her. Apparently, that was answer enough.

“You really need come see this,” she said again, this time with more urgency.

Till frowned. He should just ignore her. He didn’t want to entertain whatever game she was playing.

“I’m serious,” she was fidgeting again. “Please.”

He could’ve ignored her, but he didn’t. Even now, he supposed his curiosity had a way of getting the better of him. Standing up, he winced when his back cracked and his knees popped.

She smartly didn’t say anything and just led the way. Till followed slowly. It was only when she stopped abruptly that he finally looked up, barely avoiding running into her.

“Hey,” he barked. “Watch it!”

She stepped to the side, opening her mouth, probably to retort, but he couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears.

There, in the middle of a small crowd, was Ivan.

He didn’t even know what to focus on first – his hair, brushed back with a small clip on the side to keep it out of his face. His clothes, pure white and pristine. The smile on his face, warm and sweet.

But none of that mattered, really. Nothing mattered but the fact Ivan was here.

Ivan was alive.

Till didn’t even wait to see if the girl had anything else to say; he rushed past her and joined the crowd, pushing people out of the way. Some of them glared at him, some yelled, but he didn’t care.

He needed to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He needed to know Ivan was real.

When he finally reached the center of the crowd, he let out a shaky breath and just stared. Ivan was really there, standing right in front of him with a confused tilt of his head and an unnervingly polite smile.

Then Ivan opened his mouth and asked possibly the dumbest question he could:

“Are you okay?”

Till felt anger rush to the forefront of his many conflicting emotions, red hot and burning. “Am I okay?” he repeated in disbelief, and suddenly grabbed the collar of Ivan’s shirt. Ivan blinked, but didn’t move to stop him. “You seriously think you can do all that and then just ask me if I’m okay?”

Ivan stared back at him with a familiar blankness before suddenly he was smiling, soft and kind, “I’m sorry,” he said, and Till couldn’t remember ever hearing him apologize, before. “I don’t know what I did but I assure you I didn’t meant to upset you.”

He reached up and gently touched Till’s hands, still clutching his collar.

“If you would let go, maybe we can go somewhere private and talk.”

Till blinked, once, twice, before suddenly letting go like he’d been burned, his hands curling into fists at his sides “You don’t know what you did?” he repeated, slowly, icily. “Is this some kind of sick joke to you?”

His heart was thumping in his chest too fast, too hard. He felt like he was struggling to breathe.

“I really don’t,” Ivan replied softly. It was unnerving, hearing him talk like that. “But I’m assuming I did something to hurt you, and if I did, I really am sorry.”

Till bristled, fists tightening. He could feel something wet in both palms of his hands; blood, maybe, from where his nails were digging too deep.

“You really don’t remember?” he asked, terrified of the answer.

Ivan smiled again; it was too sweet. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Okay.” Till swallowed, forced his hands to relax at his sides. “Okay.”

Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned and ran.

For a while, he isolated himself and just tried to figure out what had happened. Maybe some kind of head trauma? That would’ve explained the memory loss, maybe, but Ivan was acting like a completely different person.

Before he had seen Ivan again - before he had gotten confirmation he was still alive - he had gone over all the things he wanted to say to him, good and bad.

Now he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. He avoided even crossing paths with Ivan for the first few days but then he realized something:

Ivan was avoiding him too. Not on purpose, it seemed, but somehow that realization was even more terrifying.

He used to do anything to get his attention - steal his things just to return them, start trivial fights, ask him to teach him about music (he never paid attention). Now he barely looked in his direction most days, too distracted with the handful of other contestants who were seemingly glued to his side.

Before, he hadn’t had any friends. Not for a lacking of trying - many people wanted to be friends with Ivan - but he had never even bothered trying to act interested.

Eventually they had stopped trying, of course, but now that had changed. It was like people could smell he was different, and they were right.

To make matters even worse, Till had overheard a few of Ivan’s conversations with some of the contestants. He wasn’t sure if Ivan meant it but when they would flirt, fluttering their eyelashes, pouting a little, Ivan would seem interested, smiling coyly.

That was possibly the most obvious sign something was very, very wrong.

Ivan didn’t do friends - not beyond what championship he had been able to forge with Till and Mizi, possibly Sua (before) - but he certainly hadn’t flirted with others.

He hadn’t even flirted with Till prior to their round, despite seemingly having some kind of feelings for him. Or maybe he had, but in unconventional ways. He certainly hadn’t been obvious about it.

(He wanted to talk to him - the real Ivan - understand what he really felt, but now he couldn’t. The Ivan of now apparently felt nothing for him.)

Could a head trauma do that? Till wasn’t educated in that kind of stuff; some of the others were, the way he was interested in music, but even they hadn’t had many chances to explore it with their limited resources. So when he asked, they simply apologized and said, honestly, “I don’t know. Maybe?”

He was grateful for the honesty but it had brought him no closer to figuring out what was going on, or how to reverse it (if that was even possible. He really hoped it was possible.)

Till finally reached a breaking point after Ivan won round 7.

(Since nobody had expected him to survive, and it was unprecedented, they had decided to add two new contestants to the lineup; one to go up against Till and one to go up against Ivan, extending the season to 9 rounds overall. The finale would make history as - for the first time - three contestants would go up against each other at once. Till really didn’t care about dissecting what that meant for them, in the future.)

Obviously he was glad he had won - he had been watching the broadcast with bated breath - but he had won by singing a new piece. Till felt an odd sense of comfort, hearing his voice again (maybe the only thing that hadn’t changed) but then he had started to pay closer attention to the lyrics.

And it was wrong. All wrong. Since when did Ivan sing of birds flying through clear blue skies, free and fearless? Of requited love, sweet and true?

It might’ve been his voice, but those weren’t his words. Something was wrong. Ivan was here, but he wasn’t.

Then finally Till made a realization. It was a working theory, of course, but at least it was a start.

It started with Till watching Ivan even closer (something he didn’t think was possible). He started to slowly notice other details that were wrong.

Just little things. Things that might not have been noticeable to other people. Like the way Ivan’s laugh was a little off (slightly too high-pitched compared to before). The way his eyes were brighter, now, but somehow lacking life at the same time.

Till realized he reminded him of a doll. Too happy. Too polite. Even Mizi - sweet as she was - hadn’t been nearly as perfect. It was unnerving.

Once - still testing his theory - Till had even spilled his soup on him during dinnertime. Just to see. Ivan had barely spared him a glance, a polite smile. “Don’t worry,” he had said before disappearing to change.

He returned with another white shirt. Laughed with everyone else at a joke that was objectively not funny.

That was when Till was certain he was on the right track. They had done something to him. It wasn’t surprising, in a way. They had experimented on Till many times before, after all, but this was different. This was Ivan; the pride and joy of the season.

It was risky to mess with him, but he supposed if it was that or his death, the aliens had weighed their options and decided this was the better outcome.

And truthfully, it had worked out for them. Ivan had gotten even more support than ever after his latest round; brands were lining up to work with him, he had a new interview being published almost every week.

But Till wouldn’t be so easily satisfied. Even if this Ivan was easier to deal with. Even if he smiled more. Till missed tussling and rolling around in the grass with him. He even missed the times Ivan would steal his things just to return them a few days later.

He missed Ivan, his friend, and possibly something more, one day. He still wasn’t sure; wouldn’t be until they could actually talk about what had happened on that stage. But either way, he would find a way to snap him out of this.

Easier said than done. Now it was hard to even get a moment alone with Ivan, seeing as he was always surrounded by people.

Finally Till did what he had to do (and he wasn’t exactly proud of it): he pretended to be hurt, and Ivan - this new version of him, at least - couldn’t resist the bait. He helped him to his room and stood there, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Till pretended to massage his ankle.

“Thank you,” he said, and a part of him meant it.

Whether or not this was the Ivan he knew, he still didn’t like him looking so lost. It was jarring, compared to the easy confidence he usually carried himself with. Before and after. The confidence had always been the one consistent thing across both versions of him, although it had certainly manifested in different ways.

Ivan smiled then, looking more sure of himself. That smile - bright and full as it was - still didn’t manage to quite reach his eyes. Till knew this was it. He had to take this chance and find out a way to reverse whatever they had done to him, if that was possible.

(It had to be; he didn’t know what he would do if it wasn’t.)

For now he just had to keep him here with him, separated from all the others.

“Can you sit with me for a second?” he asked, and Ivan didn’t even hesitate before joining him on the bed that felt more like a concrete slab with a blanket over it.

He even sat politely, hands together in his lap, back a perfectly straight line. He was still smiling. “Did you need anything else?”

Till hesitated for a moment, mentally scrambling for an excuse to keep him here longer. “My ankle really hurts,” he blurted, “even worse than before.” He paused, biting his lip, still thinking. Then he thought of it, the perfect excuse. “Could you maybe look at it?”

“I’m not sure I’d be able to tell you anything,” he replied despite already moving to the floor. Till watched, heart pounding in his chest, as Ivan gently touched his ankle, lifting his foot a little.

He should’ve prepared a bit more, maybe, because his ankle was perfectly fine. No bruising, no cuts. Still he winced, frowning. “It’s sore,” he said, pointing to a random spot. “Around here.”

Ivan nodded, softly running his fingers over the spot with pursed lips.

Till knew he should’ve been thinking more, formulating a plan. He couldn’t just keep Ivan here forever looking at his ankle, and he was no closer to finding out what the aliens had done (or how to reverse it.)

Until he saw it:

A ring, perfectly discreet, around Ivan’s finger. It wasn’t quite silver but an odd hue that nearly blended into the color of Ivan’s skin. Like he - or someone - hadn’t wanted others to notice it.

Till felt his heart beating a little faster. There was no way, right? Surely it couldn’t have been that easy. All these weeks - all this pain - had been caused by a ring?

“Your finger,” he said, voice thick. He hoped Ivan wouldn’t notice; he didn’t, seemingly, still focused on Till’s ankle. “Where did you get that ring?”

Now Ivan looked up. For a long moment he just stared before finally he blinked, once, glancing down at the ring around his finger. “It was a gift.”

Till nodded slowly. “From who?”

“I - ” Ivan stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he idly spun the ring around his finger. “I don’t quite remember, it seems.”

Till knew this was it. He was onto something. He slid off the bed to join Ivan on the floor; Ivan gasped, just a quick breath, gesturing at his ankle with eyes full of concern. Till didn’t know if it was real - his concern. He didn’t know what was real anymore but in this moment he liked to believe it was, as unfounded as it was.

“I’m okay,” he assured him. “I just, can I - ” How did he ask for this, he wasn’t really sure. Finally he gave up and just grabbed Ivan’s hand.

Ivan let him, even as his eyebrows furrowed again, watching as Till gently turned his hand in a few different directions. It was a simple ring, no stone or decorations. It was loose enough for Ivan to spin it around his finger with ease, but too tight to fall off by any accident.

“Do you mind…?” he asked as his fingertips brushed the ring. Surely it wouldn’t be so easy, but it was still worth a try.

Ivan blinked; there was something lost in his gaze, almost like he wasn’t quite seeing. Then suddenly he was pushing Till back with enough force he yelped as his back hit the edge of his bed.

“Don’t touch me,” he said, icily, as he stood and turned toward the door.

It was all wrong. The Ivan that had been, here, for the last few weeks would’ve never reacted like that. So aggressive and cold. That was when Till knew there was no other option: that ring had to go. Whatever was going on, it was clear the aliens had put in some kind of safety measure to keep Ivan from letting anyone take it off.

Whether or not it would magically fix everything was unimportant. It was a start, at least. Till scrambled back to his feet and grabbed Ivan by the arm, yanking as hard as he could. Ivan stumbled, for just a second, but it was enough for Till to get the upper hand he needed.

He spun them around and pushed Ivan onto his bed; he fell with a huff. Before he could fully recover, Till was on top of him, pinning his arms down by his sides. Ivan had always been stronger than him but thankfully with the element of surprise and whatever adrenaline was coursing through his veins it seemed he had managed to subdue him.

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked; his voice no longer had that icy coolness to it, but he was obviously still not happy.

Till squeezed his wrists, hard. “I know you don’t remember me or - or what happened,” flashes of that night on the stage, painful and sharp, played through his mind, “but I know you cared about me and I don’t know if you knew at the time how much I cared about you too.”

Ivan just stared up at him, unblinking. Till took a shaky breath.

“I wish I had let you known, before that night.” His eyes burned but he forced the urge to cry back, swallowing thickly. He needed to focus right now. “Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Maybe we could’ve found another way. You had always been the smartest out of any of us. If anyone could’ve done it, it was you.”

Ivan finally blinked, his mouth pressing together into a thin line. Till couldn’t spend too long wondering if any of this was getting through to him. He just had to keep talking.

“Instead you felt like the only way to save me was through sacrificing yourself, and - ” It was too late; his eyes watered, blurring his vision just a little. “I was so mad at you, at first. I was so angry I was sick. You - ” Till paused, shaking his head, hard. “You had no right to do that. To decide for me what I needed.”

He paused, took another shaky breath. Ivan still didn’t say anything.

“I missed you so much, Ivan,” his voice wavered with each word. “I thought I was never going to see you again and I was so numb. I realized I cared about you, more than I ever realized and - and you weren’t even here for me when I needed you the most.” He sniffed, squeezing his wrists even tighter. “You selfish asshole.”

Finally Ivan opened his mouth to say something. His eyes looked shiny, glistening. Till didn’t even bother waiting to see what he had to say; he surged down and slammed their lips together so hard their teeth clanked together, sending a jolt of pain through his jaw.

Ivan made a small noise in the back of his throat. Surprise, maybe. Till used the moment to let go of his wrist and feel for the ring; as soon as he found it, he yanked it off without hesitation and threw it across the room. He heard the distant clattering and then Ivan was kissing him back with fervor, taking his face in his hands.

Till felt something warm in his chest - hope - as he shifted, deepening the kiss. He was almost afraid to stop, afraid that he’d been wrong and nothing would be changed. Afraid he was kissing a stranger, not the Ivan he knew and desperately needed back.

But finally he had no choice; he pulled back and stared down at Ivan, eyes half-lidded, mouth wet and swollen from the aggressive kissing.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please say something.”

Ivan blinked, some clarity seeming to return to his eyes. His tongue poked out, licking at the corner of his mouth where there was just the smallest spot of blood, probably Till’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and for a moment Till felt the world stop. He had failed. But then Ivan’s hands were at his sides, holding on gently. “I never even considered how you would feel.”

Till sniffed, waited. Didn’t want to get his hopes up too much.

“I can’t even lie and say I thought you wouldn’t care.” Ivan smiled, a small thing. It was nothing like the fake smiles he’d been giving for weeks now. “Because you’re you, and you care more than you let on.”

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until Ivan smoothed a hand down his back, trying to calm him.

“But one of us had to die up there, didn’t they?” Ivan’s hand stopped, low on his back. He let out a soft sigh. “And it couldn’t be you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

Till swallowed around the lump in his throat, almost too big to breathe. “You kissed me,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a quiet acknowledgment. “You asshole, you kissed me and then left me here to try and pick up all the pieces by myself.”

He wasn’t really angry.

“And you just kissed me,” Ivan said, slowly. “Good way to distract me, hm?”

Till couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let things go unsaid between them, not after everything. What if something happened again? What if this was his only chance?

“I did use it as a distraction,” he admitted, but then, “I’d been thinking about it for a while.”

Ivan’s hand twitched against his back. “You had this plan for that long?”

“No,” Till answered truthfully before leaning down a little; their noses were only a couple inches from touching. “You should’ve told me, Ivan. Given me a chance to decide what I really wanted.”

Ivan stared back at him, unwavering. “You wouldn’t have chosen me,” he said with a confidence that sent a pang through Till’s chest, and maybe he would’ve been right, once upon a time, but things were so different now.

They could never go back and change the past, as much as Till wanted to, but the least he could do was be honest with himself moving forward.

“Maybe not back then,” he admitted, because he wasn’t fond of lying and it felt important to be honest here. “But I’m not the person I was back then, am I?”

Ivan gazed up at him with an intensity that made him shiver. “No,” he agreed. “I suppose you aren’t. Because you never would’ve gone through this much trouble for me, before.”

“I always cared about you, Ivan,” he replied, softening his voice, needing him to hear it. “I think I just didn’t know how much.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. Till didn’t know what he was going to say, but that was okay. He wouldn’t push it. They had a lot to figure out over the next few hours - like how they were going to hide Ivan breaking through whatever the aliens had done to him, or if they even could hide it because Till didn’t want to risk putting the ring back on, or even where they stood as friends or more - but for now none of that mattered.

Ivan was back, he was here with him, gazing up at him like he used to, when he used to think Till was never looking (and he wasn’t, most of the time, but not all the time.) And Till knew he would do anything to ensure he never left him again.

#alnst #ivantill #alien stage #ivantill fic #alnst till #alnst ivan #mywriting #thank u op for giving me permission to use this idea #bc this is my fav ivantill fic i've written yet

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for-a-longlongtime · 6 months

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So. I accidentally ended up writing a Frankie x Santiago x reader fic...

I say 'accidentally' because I was all in on writing my Javi P x Tim Rockford fic (which is still happening!), then wanted to write a short drabble for @legendary-pink-dot's birthday - and that's how things quickly escalated. Oops.

Shouldn't be surprised though considering Frankie and Santi are, hands down, my absolute fave pairing.

Right now it's looking like the final wordcount will be near 20K words, so I'm thinking I should break this up into two parts. Also because it's been taking over my entire brain and life living in my head and Google docs for 3 weeks already, and I'm overthinking everything because ngl I'm pretty nervous about posting my first fic. So, endulge me if you don't mind...

FYI, @morallyinept is currently feedbacking the first part - she is an absolute GEM! And I have to give massive props to @sin-djarin @magpiepills @imalrightllama @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin in particular who have been so damn encouraging and patient as I've been constantly running tidbits past them for the past weeks.

Whoever catches the reference in the title wins a cookie, btw.

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Nothing That I Didn't Know (teaser)

Frankie watches you across the crowded bar, standing close to Pope as you’re talking while waiting for drinks. Something tickles in the back of his neck, raising the little hairs there, then all over his arms and everywhere else, like he’s been zapped by a little bolt of electricity. He knows he’s had plenty of tequila - probably more than enough for the rest of the night - but still he can’t help but reach for another shot, unable to tear his eyes away from what’s happening in front of him.

The liquor burns deliciously in his chest as it goes down smoothly, sinking into the rest of his body; undoing and releasing way too many safety clips that normally stay bolted down, and he has to work hard to not reach for another shot. Fuck, his head is loud. Much too loud.

Had been that way already earlier, at the beginning of the night, as he’d watched you and Pope at the bar getting shots for the table. Messing around with each other, and he’d smirked when he saw you triumphantly snag away the shot in front of him - you two were always at it. But then the tone had changed, and he knew it was happening before you seemed to register it - he recognized that look on Santiago’s face.

The set of his mouth, the way his chin would tilt up slightly, the little telltale signs right before he attacked. Watched as he’d suddenly grabbed you, sharply pulling your arms behind you as he shoved you against the bar with his body, and Frankie could feel his mind and body immediately responding in a diametrically opposed manner - his brain in loud protest, the "what the fuck, Pope" right at the tip of his tongue even though he was much too far away to even be heard - immediately protective of you. But his body betrayed him, blood suddenly rushing away from his brain as his cock stirred, immediately painfully trapped against the denim of his jeans. Fuck. Fuuuck.

He saw Santi say something against your ear as you struggled, and the roar in his head was suddenly deafening in a way that made him uncomfortable - there was the instant urge to go stop it, pull Santi off you and ask what the fuck he thought that he was doing. But the other part of him, the one that throbbed in his jeans, didn’t even want to consider interrupting this - just wanted to drink in what was happening, what was next, wanting to know how you felt being pressed against the bar by him like that. Wanted Santi to press him against the bar like that.

He swallowed heavily when the realization of that last thought fully hit him, a hot mix of guilt and desire at the same time, then felt the wave of anger that rolled right after it. It didn’t matter whether it was hot to see - Santi had no right to touch you like that. YOU, you had no right to push back against him like that, even if it was just to struggle and break free, as you ended up pressed even closer against Santi’s front - clearly though inadvertently positioned right against his dick.

Don’t touch her. She’s–

Don’t touch HIM.

Mine.

Mine mine mine.

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Tagging a bunch of you who might be interested in this (or is it tacky to do that when it's your own work? I don't know, man. Like I said, I'm really good at overthinking shit): @linzels-blog @goodwithcheese @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @goodwithcheese @undercoverpena @secretelephanttattoo @musings-of-a-rose @trulybetty @rifflovesjoey @avastrasposts @gemmahale @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @nerdieforpedro @ladybess-a03 @prolix-yuy @whatsnewalycat @ezrasbirdie @thewreckening @marisferasiop @perotovar @max--phillips @wannab-urs @idolatrybarbie @inept-the-magnificent @gasolinerainbowpuddles @alwaysmicado @romanarose @chronically-ghosted @alltheglitterandtheroar @boliv-jenta @covetyou @5oh5 @reallyrallyauthor @radiowallet @writefightandflightclub @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @anavatazes @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207 @fettuccin-e @ghostofaboy @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

Want me to tag you when the first part drops? Leave a comment or rb and I'll add you to the taglist!

#frankie morales #santiago garcia #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you

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embracing-the-ineffable · 3 months

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Good Omens, staying skeptical, and the mystery and the lie at the heart of Gravity Falls

-Neil Gaiman, 29 June 2023

I recently came across this post by @apathetic-revenant, which goes into extensive detail about a whole secret meta lie generated by Alex Hirsch, creator and head writer of Gravity Falls, midway through the show.

It went like this: the show was very focused on mysteries, codes, ciphers, etc, and early on a character discovered a mysterious journal with an unknown author, and this drove the plot. There were clues placed in the show so that people could solve the journal author's identity, or more probably so that it would all make sense in hindsight after the big reveal. However, the show ended up with a larger-than-expected fandom who started organizing online in a way the creators hadn't expected or planned for, and they were worried everyone would collectively solve the mystery too easily, too soon, and the suspense and appeal of the story gradually unfolding would be lost.

So they took a fake BTS photo that appeared to reveal the journal's author and "leaked" it online. To give it credibility, the show's creator posted "Fuming right now" and then deleted the post soon after, once they were certain it had been seen and screenshots taken. The Gravity Falls fandom then stopped trying to solve the mystery, as they believed the answer had already been revealed. It was a solution "targeted toward delaying that group problem-solving, without actually affecting the experience of any individual person watching the show."

Ok, Good Omens fandom. Are we Gravity Falls all over again? Are we also experiencing meta lies?

Is it possible that Amazon's marketing department has just released a new promotional video about Aziraphale & Crowley's "timeline of interconnectedness" (discussions here and here ) where they honestly:

got several of those timeline dates wrong, including labeling the entirety of seasons 1 and 2 as belonging to the same year?

mixed all the season 1 and 2 clips together so they're completely interconnected and out of the order they were presented to us so far?

didn't consult with Neil Gaiman for even a moment to be sure they had their facts straight? (Or literally anyone else who's spent years working on it? Or even someone who has just watched it once while paying attention?)

didn't understand the way most series tell a story by moving through time in a realistic linear fashion?

When Neil said today that "time is fine" in response to questions about the timeline of interconnectedness video, was he trying to misdirect the fandom away from the mystery that's clearly hidden throughout both seasons (and especially season 2)?

The Good Place seems suddenly more relevant than I'd imagined:

Neil has told us that his Tumblr posts aren't canon. He's also said:

"Never trust the storyteller. Only trust the story."

"Writers are liars, my dear, surely you know that by now? And yet, things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot." -Both quotes are from The Sandman [link]

So here's my plea to whichever part of the fandom might read this: Stay Skeptical. It's wonderful to talk to Neil about his characters, the worlds he's created, his writing process, his views on world events, his sense of humor, his kindness, his compassion and empathy, and his good advice & encouragement for the entire range of the human experience. I respect him very much, and I'm thrilled he's here on social media talking to all of us. (Except he doesn't have social media, obviously. He's like Schrödinger's Social Media Neil-cat.)

I'm looking forward to all the surprises I'm certain are in store for us (and Aziraphale and Crowley) in Good Omens season 3. I trust Neil (and Terry!) to deliver our beloved characters to a very satisfying ending. But I don't trust Neil to honestly answer all of our questions on social media - and neither should you.

Especially not when he's already blamed obvious season 2 changes to the Bentley on the "lighting" (as just one example).

With lots of thanks to the members of the @ineffable-detective-agency - including @bbbitchvibbbez, @kimberleyjean, @maufungi, @noneorother, @theastrophysicistnextdoor, and @thebluestgreen for all their excellent fact-checking, ideas, and discussions!

Interested in diving further into all the Good Omens mysteries? I have more posts plus Clues and metas from all over the fandom, here.

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