#now we smoke together lmaoo

[katanaski]

I smoked a bowl with my ex's brother so I'm feeling pretty good rn

#i 'raised' this kid since he was 10 😭 #now we smoke together lmaoo #he has this pretty girlfriend he brings around sometimes and omg he treats her so so good #his mom has not been around since he was young #and so he came to me when he was thinking of giving his gf a promise ring #🥺🥺🥺 #i helped him put the surprise together for it when he did #i filmed everything and cried the whole time #he is now 21 #11 years i was with ol dude gave me a small yet good family #sigh now I'm sad #yeah nobody asked but... #need another bowl... #deleting

[archangeldyke-all]

Subtop amab sevika please? Making her beg to fuck you and call her a good girl when she makes you cum 🥺

hehehehe gonna combine this with another ask i got too

sevika begs to eat you out ? 😋

i'm gonna continue the amab ceo trend we've got going on, because i've become emotionally attached to her lmaoo. thank u @love-sugarr for the inital prompt that started it all <3

enjoy!

men and minors dni

as much as she likes taking charge, and as good as it she is, sometimes sevika needs to turn her mind off.

she works really fucking hard during the days. you're constantly impressed by her knowledge, her ability to read situations, her quick decision making and her mental math. she's incredible.

and sometimes, she gets burnt out.

sometimes she comes home from work and collapses into a heap on the bed, groaning and wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and turn her brain off.

before you were together, she'd spend these nights drinking and smoking and flipping through shitty tv shows.

but now, she's got a much better way to turn her brain off.

it doesn't happen often, but when it does, you can always tell.

like today.

by lunchtime, sevika's eyes had glazed over with exhaustion..

on the drive home, she was completely silent, not even teasing you when you hit the curb pulling out of the parking lot.

at home, she walked right past her home gym, heading to the bedroom to starfish out on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

and now it's dinner, and sevika hasn't even tried her food.

enough is enough. it's time for you to take care of your girl.

sevika's got her head in her hand, her eyes glazed over and staring off into space. she doesn't even register you getting up from the table.

sevika blinks back to reality when you pull her chair out from the table and sit yourself down in her lap.

"wha?" she asks. you grin.

"hey, baby." you say. sevika blinks and gulps.

"hi." she whispers. you lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. sevika's eyelashes flutter.

"you okay?" you ask. she hums.

"'m fine." she says. you smirk, reaching up to scratch against her scalp. she sighs.

"you're spacey." you say. "and tired." you add on.

sevika huffs. "i'm okay, really." she says, always hesitant to admit her weaknesses. you glare at her and she sighs, rolling her eyes. "fuckin' hate it when you do that." she says. you laugh.

"do what?" you ask.

"see right through me." she grumbles. you lean forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

"you like it." you say. sevika's lips twitch up at the sides. "plus, you're not hard to read. 's just that everyone else's too scared to call you out on it."

sevika chuckles. "and you're fucking insane and have no sense of self preservation." she says. you laugh.

"or i'm smarter than all those stupid fuckers and i know a catch when i see one." you say, winking. sevika snorts and winds her hands around your waist.

"something like that." she says, nuzzling her head against your chest.

for a few minutes, you just hold her against you, letting her nuzzle against your tits and breathe in your scent. you scratch at her scalp, kissing her hair every other minute.

when the tension in her shoulders disappears, and she's putty in your hands, you know you can start the next phase of your plan.

winding your hand through her hair, you gently tug sevika's head back so you can look in her eyes.

"wanna turn your brain off for a bit?" you ask. sevika blinks up at you.

"it's too early for bed." she says, confused. you laugh and swoop down to kiss her lips, swiping your tongue over her bottom lip before nipping it, pulling away when she gasps.

"i was thinkin' about something else. the bed'll be involved, but we won't be sleeping." you say.

you watch as sevika's mind slowly catches up to you, her eyes growing wide, her lips parting. she gulps, then speaks.

"yes, please." she whispers. you grin, and kiss her again.

dinner grows cold on the table, forgotten as you and sevika make out on your bed.

she's always so sensitive when she's like this. right now, she's shivering beneath you as you suck on her tongue and gently scratch your nails down her sides.

it takes a while for her to melt into her subbier head-space, but you know she's there when she starts whimpering beneath you, unable to take her eyes off you each time you pull away, her hands clawing into your hips and her thighs squeezing together beneath you.

"you okay?" you tease her. she whines.

"i-- i--"

you kiss her nose, and sevika's eyes cross as she tries to keep her gaze focused on you. when you pull away, sevika gulps.

"i'm okay." she whispers, her voice shaky.

you giggle. "you seem a little flustered, babe." you tease her. she blinks, too far gone to defend herself.

"want you." she admits. you smile.

"yeah?"

"so bad." she says, nodding.

"how do you want me?" you ask, starting to grind little circles against her bulge from where you're straddling her lap. she takes a shaky breath.

"however you'll have me." she whispers. you laugh.

"gonna have to be more specific than that, baby. i got about a million things i wanna do to you at any given moment."

sevika doesn't answer, she's too busy squirming beneath you. you laugh and flick her forehead.

"i asked you a question." you say.

"i, uh, what was it?" she asks, a blush blooming on her cheeks. you smile.

"what do you want from me?" you ask. sevika gulps.

"your cunt." she says honestly. you grin.

"i know that, honey, you gotta tell me how you want it." you say as you slowly begin to unbutton her shirt.

she's distracted again, panting like she's run a marathon as she watches your fingers slowly free her chest of her button up. you pull it over her shoulders, then unclasp her bra, freeing her tits. when she still doesn't answer, you flick her nipples. she squeaks and jumps.

"answer my question." you demand. sevika takes a shaky breath and shakes her head to clear it.

"on my mouth." she says. you smile.

"there you go honey, there's my good girl."

the nickname does something to sevika, and suddenly the distracted cloudy look in her eyes vanishes, replaced by pure desperation and lust. you laugh at her.

"gotta tell you though, baby," you continue, "that's a pretty big ask." you tease.

in reality, you're soaked. your clit's throbbing at the prospect of getting sevika's mouth on you, and you'd never deny an opportunity to get head from your girl. sevika knows this, too, or at least, she usually does.

right now, though, she's all subby and sweet and stupid, licking her lips as her big puppy eyes look up at you, waiting for your next command.

"you might have to beg for it." you say.

sevika whimpers, and in her pants, her cock twitches.

you slide off her lap and she pouts at the loss. you take your time laying against the pillows, seductively spreading your still clothed legs, and beckoning sevika forward with a crooked finger.

she scrambles to get between your legs, desperate to be near you again. you laugh and sling your hands over her shoulders, pulling her down for a kiss.

she moans against your mouth, sinking her hips against yours to grind her clothed cock against your cunt. you tug her hair and she whines.

"who said you could do that?" you ask, glaring up at her. she gulps and looks away.

"'m sorry." she whispers. you smirk and press a kiss to her cheek, then shove her away from you.

"get naked." you command. sevika nods and almost falls on her ass with how quickly she scrambles off the bed to pull her pants off. you have to reach out to grab her elbow and steady her as she trips over the legs of her pants, eager to get back to you on the bed.

when she's back between your legs, you can practically see her tail wagging in excitement as she awaits your next command. you smile and lean forward to peck her lips, then pull away to take in her naked form.

her cock's hard and twitching, bumping against her abs each time it pulses. there's a very tempting little bead of pre forming on the tip, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself that you're the one who's in charge tonight.

"now strip me. but no touching." you say, pointing at her. she nods, then shoots forward to tear at your clothes.

you hear a few seams rip in her hurry, but decide not to chastise her. at this point, you're way too fucking horny to care about your clothes.

in a flash, your naked beneath her, and sevika's licking her lips as her eyes trail up and down your body. you laugh.

"see somethin' you like?" you ask. sevika nods, not taking her eyes off your tits. "wanna touch?" you ask. sevika nods again.

"yes, yes, please." she whispers. you smile.

"where?"

"anywhere." she replies. you laugh.

"gimmie your hands." you demand, reaching out to take her hands into yours. you slowly trail her hands down your sides, until they're on your hips. "keep 'em there." you say. sevika nods so hard a piece of her hair escapes her tiny ponytail, falling into her face. you smile and reach up to tuck it behind her ear.

"there's my baby. my pretty girl." you praise her. you watch in fascination as sevika's hips hump the air and her chest trembles with the shaky breath the words bring out of her. "you like that?" you ask. sevika nods.

"yes." she whispers. her hands are clawing at your hips, her lip between her teeth.

"you still wanna taste me?" you ask.

"yes." sevika says desperately, her eyes snapping back up to yours. you smile.

"beg for it." you say. sevika blinks, then her mouth falls open and the dam breaks.

"please please please lemme taste you. want it so fuckin' bad you look so fuckin' good i need it baby, fuck i need it. please, i promise i'll be good-- i've been good, haven't i?" she asks, her voice wobbly. you smile and cup her cheek.

"you've been so good." you say, nodding. "but i'm gonna need a little more than that."

sevika whines and trembles, and you reach down to play with her tits. "i don't-- what do you-- please!" she whines.

there are tears forming in her eyes, and you decide to take mercy on her.

"go ahead." you say.

sevika doesn't even wait until you finish your sentence to flop down on her stomach between your legs and get her mouth on your cunt.

fuck does she have a good mouth. it's wicked-- she's been touching you for approximately twenty seconds and you're already on the brink of orgasm.

she's messy, especially when she's like this, not caring about the drool leaking from her lips or the cum covering her face, just absolutely devouring your pussy and moaning into it like she's the one getting head.

you tangle your hands in her hair and tug. "slower!" you demand.

sevika whines, but complies, her harsh fast sucks easing, becoming long, languid licks up and down your cunt.

"there you go, baby." you whisper. "good girl."

sevika moans against your cunt, her eyes snapping up to look at your face, begging for more praise. you smile down at her and scratch at her scalp, admiring the way her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"so good sev, so good. 's is all you need, huh? just need some pussy? need me to take charge, let you turn your brain to mush?" you ask. sevika's trying her best to nod against you, her nose bumping your clit with every bob of her head. "you're so perfect. such a hard worker-- fuck like that-- so fuckin' hot in your suits 'n ties... oh god, your mouth, baby. perfect fuckin' mouth."

below you, sevika starts humping against the sheets. you tug her hair harshly.

"cut it out. that cum's mine, you understand?" you ask.

sevika pulls away from your cunt to let out the most delicious, pathetic little whine you've ever heard from her. you grin, then push her face back against your pussy.

"you're so fuckin' cute. 'n you're all mine, aren't you?" you ask. sevika nods again, her nose bumping your clit repeatedly, making you gasp. "fuck, 'm close. 'f you make me cum, i might let you fuck me." you say.

sevika buries her face even further against you at your words, her eyes looking up at you, big and wet and watery, reverent and desperate.

"my perfect girl. my baby. fuckin' love you baby. love you so much. you're mine." you grunt out as your orgasm draws closer. "mine, mine, mine." you continue.

between your legs, sevika's nodding fervently and moaning against your cunt.

she pulls away for just a moment to suck in a gasp and whisper, "yours," before diving back down and sucking your clit into her mouth.

that's all it takes for you, and you cum with a loud gasp. "oh, sevika!" you groan as your orgasm washes over you.

she growls against your cunt, her fingers digging into your hips so hard you're sure she's drawn blood, her hips starting to hump against the bed again.

when you catch your breath and realize what she's doing, you tug her hair harshly and pull her up your body until she's hovering over you.

her face is soaked. there's even some drool or cum in her eyebrows, which makes you chuckle. you reach up to wipe her clean, and she keeps her big, eager eyes on yours the whole time.

"such a good girl." you whisper. sevika lets out a happy little sound and nuzzles against your hand.

"thank you." she says. you smile and pull her down for a kiss, moaning at the taste of your cum on her lips. she hums against you.

between your legs, sevika's cock is poking your thigh, swollen and wet and angry. your stomach clenches.

sevika's seemed to completely forget her own arousal, happy to just cuddle against you, but you haven't. you reach down to grab her ass and laugh at the little squeak it pulls out of her.

"now be a doll and fuck me. 'f you make me cum, i might let you try 'n knock me up. but only if you're good."

sevika's eyes nearly cross in excitement and lust, and she lets out a small whimper as she remembers the lower half of her body.

"really?" she asks, disbelieving, like you've ever denied her an orgasm before. you haven't, you don't have the heart, but it's cute the way she seems to completely forget everything else when she gets like this.

"maybe." you lie.

she nods eagerly and then pries her eyes away from your face to line her cock up with your hole, looking back up at you the second she's got herself situated.

when she pushes in you sigh and sevika whines, collapsing on top of you and burying her face against your shoulder.

"f-fuck!" she whimpers.

you reach up to wrap a hand in her hair, the other wrapping around her back, holding her in a half hug and rubbing in small circles against her as she collects herself on top of you.

"you okay?" you ask, clenching your cunt around her.

"ah!" she squeaks. you laugh evilly.

"i asked you a question." you remind her.

sevika takes a shaky breath. "'m tryin' not to cum." she whispers. you laugh again, wrapping your legs around her hips and squeezing them, pulling her impossibly closer to you.

"now fuck me." you command.

sevika whines against you. "but--"

"fuck. me." you demand.

sevika lets out a shaky whimper against your shoulder as she starts slowly thrusting in and out of your cunt. she starts with shallow little thrusts, teasing you while she tries to collect herself.

eventually, she gets herself under control, and her thrusts get harder, quicker, deeper. you sigh.

"there you go, that's a good girl." you say. sevika grunts against you. "y' always know how to fuck me just right, don't you baby?" you ask. "such a good fuckin' girl for me, so perfect."

sevika sinks her teeth into your shoulder at the praise, trying to keep from cumming at your words. you giggle.

"awe, 're you close?" you tease. sevika whimpers.

"n-no." she lies. you laugh.

"you're a bad liar, babe. can feel your dick throbbin' inside me." you say. sevika whimpers again.

"y' just feel so good." she whines.

"awe, i know. 's like this cunt was made for you, huh?" you ask. sevika whines and nods. "like your cock was made for me." you whisper. sevika nods again. you press a kiss to her hair. "'s all yours, baby. all for you." you say. "and who are you?" you ask.

she pulls away from your neck to stare down at you.

"yours." she whispers. you smile and nod up at her.

"say it again." you say, reaching down to fiddle with your clit.

"yours!" she says, gasping as your cunt starts twitching and clenching around you. "y-yours, momma, all yours. 'm yours." she says.

"oh, baby, i love you." you say.

suddenly, sevika tenses up, her face scrunching and a pathetic little "no!" escaping her lips as she cums inside of you.

you gasp at the sensation, then let out a full belly laugh as sevika buries her head against you, her hips still grinding against you as she fills you with her cum.

"'m sorry." she mumbles. "'m sorry, felt so good, 'm sorry." she says.

you kiss her hair. "keep going." you say.

"wha?" she asks. you tug her hair.

"keep. going." you say. "still gotta make me cum."

"but i--"

"better hurry before you go soft." you say.

sevika's eyes go wide, and she gulps, before she starts fucking you again.

she's whimpering with each thrust, her dick sensitive and overwhelmed, her arms shaky where they hold her up. each time she humps into you, she lets out a sweet little, 'ah!' she's adorable.

you start toying with your clit again, you've been close since she got inside you, but now, with her cum leaking out of you with each thrust and her sweet little over-stimulated whines in your ear, you're on the brink.

"that's it, baby, keep goin'." you encourage her. sevika bites her lip, her brows furrowed as she nods. "you're so perfect. such a good fuckin' girl. so fuckin' cute-- can't even control yourself. cummin' the second you get inside me, you're pathetic. fuck i love you." you ramble as you get closer. above you, sevika's gasping at your words.

"'m sorry." she whimpers, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes from her overstimulated cock.

"don't be sorry. say 'thank you' for letting you fuck me." you demand. sevika nods.

"thank you, thank you, thank you so fuckin' much. feels so good. so warm so wet, fuck, thank you." she grunts.

you cum from her words, your clenching cunt pulling a pathetic, pained wince out of sevika as she collapses on top of you while you fall apart beneath her.

for a few minutes, the two of you just lay together, catching your breath. then, when the stars in your eyes fade and sevika's shuddering breaths even out, you reach down to smack her ass. she jolts against you and giggles.

"you're so perfect." you say. "i love you so fuckin' much, baby."

"lub y' too." sevika mumbles against you, already half asleep. you laugh and push at her shoulders and she groans as she flops onto her back. you crawl on top of her, her cum dripping out of your cunt and onto her abs, and pepper kisses across her face.

sevika giggles like she's high, her whole face scrunched up as you assault her with smooches.

"i love you i love you i love you i love you!" you say between kisses. sevika's giddy beneath you, the cute little gap in her teeth on full display with her grin.

"i love you too." she says. you smile down at her. "thank you." she adds on. your smile turns into a smirk.

"y' don't have to thank me anymore, baby. i should be thanking you." you say. she chuckles.

"i mean thank you for lettin' me turn my brain off. 's nice. you're the only one i can be stupid around, 'n you still take care of me."

you melt, leaning down to press your lips against hers, sighing against her as she wraps her arms around your back.

"i'll always take care of you, y'know?" you ask. sevika nods, sincerely.

"i know."

"i love you." you say. she smiles and reaches up to tug you back down for another kiss.

"i love you too." she mumbles against your lips.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss

#this was way longer than i intended hahaha whoops #it's my bedtime now so no more requests tonight #but i have another free day tomorrow so i'll be finishing catching up then!! love u guys <33 #sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

[yeyinde]

omg if you could, would you please write literally anything about soap?? If not then would you possibly write some jealous ghost? (,,: maybe the reader and Soap are really close and fuck around together and ghost just watches from a distance until it's taken a little too far and he does something drastic ? Reader and Soap are goofing around and end up in a compromising position and ghost just yanks them apart and at first they're like "that was so unprofessional I'm in trouble oh no" but it turns out ghost was just enraged with jealousy lmaoo

i absolutely write for Soap (and Price, and Alejandro, and Gaz, and "Alex"... honestly, all these COD boys got me simpin something fierce). 

i'm so sorry this took so long—i had a lot of ideas about Soap, but i mostly wanted two pining idiots in a pub! i tried to add elements of the Ghost request as well (messing around, blink and you'll miss it Ghost jealousy), but i really just enjoyed that almost comfortably claustrophobic feeling you get when you're with someone who ensnares your full attention until everything just completely goes away. that "oh, are we still in public?" dazed feeling.

i really hope you enjoy this! 🖤

tw: none, mostly just fluff and banter; gratuitous use of Scottish slang

Ghost’s Version

He slides you a glass filled with amber, eyes dancing in the low, golden glow of the pub. Fairy lights. They catch on the green in his irises; a boscage in hazel. 

There is something warm in the air—the taste of victory, of scotch (Price insists, buys two bottles, and offers up Maduro cigars to anyone who looks at him)—and you cling to it, wrapping your hands around this feeling, and tucking it close to your thudding heart. It's comforting. 

Everyone is together again. Price knocking his hand against Gaz's shoulder, loudly telling anyone who'll listen about the time the kid was hangin' out a helo. Fuckin' nutter. Laswell nursing a glass, pad in her hands. Ghost beside her, eyes drawn to the names of men you'll eventually have to go after flashing in his dark eyes. 

Gaz shoots you a glance. Help me, it says. 

Your return smile, a wave. No way. 

If you get close to Price now, you'll never get loose. You'll end up walking away with the taste of a battle on your tongue, scotch in your belly, and cigar smoke clotting inside your lungs. He always leaves you feeling dazed, whiplash sick. 

It's best to avoid your captain when his voice is a raw scrape, a wheeze, after yelling in the trenches for so long. 

It might, of course, be said bottles of scotch that permeate inside of you; a low heat in your belly. You feel giddy with it. 

"A'right, bonnie?" His voice is a thick fog in the morning. A blanket of white over the pastures. Sun peeking through. 

"Aye," you murmur, riding a very thin line between that confidence only being a shade away from drunk can bring, and coy—coquettish. Teasing. It's been like this all night. 

(Maybe even longer—ever since he knocked his knuckles to your shoulder, bottom lip between his teeth to stem a grin, and said, not bad for a bonnie lass.)

Soap's hand jerks. The glass scratches across the tabletop. 

"Oh, aye?" He thickens his accent, lets the twang of the highlands congeal in the space between you. 

"That's it, bonnie."

He's close—leather, plastic; he smells of polymer and oak—and the flecks of caramel in his eyes remind you of the sun. So close, you can feel the rays scorch your cheeks when he leans in, when his white teeth flash, blinding, in your periphery. 

"That right?" 

"We'll make a Scot out of you, yet." 

It happens in between everything. 

A break in the clouds between rainfall—turadh. 

That's how most things happen with Soap, you find. Small moments here or there; little snippets. They stack up slowly, a steadily filling dam until the levee begins to crack, and crumble. 

It spills over; a splash. A lull.

He's meant to be teaching you cuss words that you can hurtle at your enemies, or a secret language meant for the two of you if you'd ever gotten into a tight spot together. Maybe, even a way to annoy your Lieutenant. It's slipped in somehow—between it’s a dreich day and whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye! —and sits heavy in your chest.

Turadh. 

(Is there even a word out there more beautiful?)

His chin is pointed up toward the arching ceiling when he mutters it softly, a ghost, perhaps, from his childhood. It slips out like it wasn't meant to. Like it was lost somewhere in his mind, his memories, and slowly buoyed the surface, captured between trembling hands. A forgotten piece of home dipped in the evanescence of nostalgia. 

It feels like the end of a storm when his eyes drift to you. A crooked smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. 

"Heard it from me granny," he says, shrugging, bashful. "Heard a lot more than that, too. Cussed like a sailor." 

He says nothing more. His past, like most of the men whose company you keep, is a secret. Held tight to the chest under a thick bulletproof vest. Untouchable. Unreachable. 

Your fingers itch all the same.

"She definitely raised you well."

"Is that an insult?"

You flash a light smile his way. "If I wanted to insult you, I'd call your haircut naff."

"Cheeky little—," Soap huffs. "No one appreciates the mohawk anymore." 

"Did they ever?" 

He leans down, eyes honeycomb golden in the gloaming, and smells of alder and wych elm. "I happen to think so." 

The fissure splits. Water leaks. You wonder if he'd taste of the highlands. 

"You happen to think a lot of things," tremulous words, barely above a whisper, slip from the seam of your wobbling lips. "Doesn't mean any of them are right." 

"We'll see, bonnie." He motions for you to take your drink. "I'm sure you'll find I'm always right."

"Is the clause in that always ironclad?"

"Aye, and you best know it, lass."

Another word is learned— fadachd —when he smiles at you; a soft crook of his lips, shadows catching on the jut of his mouth. His eyes are warm honey; molasses. If you stare too long, you think you might just get stuck. 

A shudder, then, rolls through you. 

(You've had worse ideas, really.)

"You're not teaching me the good stuff," you pout, thumb brushing over the curve of the cup, dragging through the impression of your mouth left on the rim. 

"I'm not much of a teacher," he shrugs, bringing his glass to his lips. 

Your throat is dry. Eyes locked on the way his Adam's apple buoys with his swallows; on the smooth column of his neck, on the stubble that falls beneath his chin, jaws. 

You can't look away quick enough when he turns to you. His eyes burn into yours. The glass clinks against the table. 

"What do you want to learn?"

"Everything—," you choke, fingers curling over the cup. "I—I mean… what are some, y'know, stuff I can use on a date."

His voice is thick, raw from the alcohol he drank. "A date?" 

You nod. The glass is cool against your palm. You bring it to your lips, and let the sharp liquid sit on your tongue. 

"With who?" 

You mimic his shrug, swallowing. His eyes are on you. You try not to tremble. 

"Anyone. Just—," your voice is a rasp; a shade under a whisper. 

You take another swig—liquid courage—and try not to grimace. The alcohol burns through you. 

(His eyes are suns. Dizzying. Blinding.)

When you turn to him, you flash a slow grin; eyes lidded. Teasing. Kittenish. You feel a little bit like an imposter. "How do I get myself a Scottish man?" 

You can see him swallow. Hear the click in his throat. 

Beside his sternum, you watch his vein tick. Wonder, dazed, what it would be like to sink your teeth into his skin. To mark him as yours for the world to see. 

Soap— Johnny —MacTavish: all yours. 

You shiver. 

"A Scottish man, aye?"

"Well, if you teach me right, I'll know how to seduce one."

His elbow rests on the tacky tabletop, knuckles pressed into his chin. He leans over you until all you can see is him. 

"And if I teach you wrong?"

In the triangle of his arm and jaw, you find Ghost in the corner—sitting beside Price and Laswell (you wonder, for a moment, if any of them ever really stop) as they pour over documents—and tip your chin toward him. 

"I might end up with an Englishman."

Soap raises his head, peering over his shoulder. He pauses for a moment, eyes darting between his Captain and Lieutenant.

It's satisfying to hear him huff through his nose. A heavy exhale. You wonder if he's jealous. 

It makes you think of Madrid. Of that stunning woman draped in Chantilly. 

Aye, lass. It was a pleasure to meet you. 

You turn to your glass, mulling over what he might say in response, your comeback, but his grip on the glass catches your eye. 

His knuckles are white. Nails red, flat against the surface. 

"Soap—"

He turns back to you. The tight grip around the glass eases. 

When he smiles, it feels like a cloud cover, hiding away the blaze. "Lt? Might be good for him."

"Yeah…" you murmur, words quiet in your slurred panic. You don't know how to salvage this. The teasing, the banter—it was bordering on flirting, and now—

Distance. 

He's just Soap. And you're just you. 

(Aye, lass—)

It stings. Prickles between your ribs and your heart, and the ache of it makes the alcohol in your gut churn. 

"I doubt he'd go for it." 

"What? He's been keekin' you all night." There is a divot between his brow. When he turns his head, the fairy lights behind make his stubble look darker. "Yer aff yer heid!"

You blink, a small smile growing. "D'unno that one, yet, professor."

"It means: you're talking rubbish. He can't stop lookin' at you." 

He enunciates the words for you, even adapts a spiteful English accent to go with it, but it's the burn in his gaze that makes you feel like you're floating. Bubbly and light and reaching for the stratosphere. 

You don't want to lose this.

(The ever in that is ironclad.)

"How do you say I'm drunk?"

Soap shakes his head, tension dissipating. It's a relief when humour cuts into his grin. "Too many ways to count, lass."

"C'mon," you slide forward on the barstool, elbows perched on the table, palms cupping your warm cheeks. They feel blistered, sunkissed. "Just one? It'll even be the chef's choice."

"Oh, aye?" He mimics your pose, leaving only one hand to grasp the glass between his palm. He rolls it between his thumb and fingers for a moment, eyes downcast as he thinks. "Yer mad wae' it." 

You roll the words around your tongue. "Mad with it?"

"Aye." 

"I like it."

"Are you?" 

"Am I…?"

"Mad wae it?" 

"Just a little…"

Soap levels you with a look that knocks the wind from your lungs. "You're blootered, bonnie."

"Awa' an bile yer heid!"

Something sits in his brow at the sharp words that spill, unpractised, from your lips. A rumble in the distance warning of approaching rain. 

You think the deluge might drown you. 

"Careful, bonnie," his breath smells of scotch. Tastes like a sunburn. "You might just bite off more than you can chew."

The burn of the alcohol does little to abate the itch in your throat. 

"Bonnie," you murmur, numb. You can't hear much past the thudding in your chest. "Why'd you call me bonnie?"

(Aye, lass—

Bonnie. Bonnie. Bonnie—)

His head drops when he huffs, a soft laugh spilling—almost reluctantly—from his chest. He stays like that for a moment, head bowed and the corner of his mouth twitching. When he raises his head, his cheeks are stained rubescent. 

The alcohol, you think, dizzy. The world spins, and then narrows into a pin-drop where only the ruby smear on the bridge of his nose exists. 

"'Am no diddy, but—"

"Sergeant." 

There is a misty cloud surrounding you; a gossamer spooling over your eyes. You blink the cobwebs away, but they're stuck to your retinas. 

Ghost stands shrouded in the smog. His dark eyes slide to you. Endless black. Unfathomable. 

"Soldier." 

The command is clear. Stop muckin' about.

His voice is a warble when he speaks. Gruff, low. "Lt, comin' to learn some Scottish, too?" 

"Negative." He says, clipped. Then: "can barely understand these pissed Glaswegians as it is." 

"It's a lovely accent," you murmur, grinning. Stupid, dopey. It feels like waking up after a long nap on the beach. 

His eyes are liquid pools of black when they slide to you. "Bloody hell. Must have knocked your head one too many times if you think that's lovely."

"It was more of a smack." 

"Christ. With a rifle?"

You like it when he's loose like this. Relaxed. When he isn't barking out commands, and orders, and keeping a chasm between everyone. 

"No, with a hand." 

"Better see the medic. Don't need you suffering any more brain damage."

It's on the tip of your tongue— aw, you do care —but his words stick to the gummy lining of your scotch-filled head. Any more. 

You pout. "You're a stone-cold bastard, you know that?" 

Somewhere under the mask, you like to imagine that he's grinning. "Never said I wasn't." 

"What do you need, Lt?" 

Liquid eyes slide to him. "We're heading out. You stayin', MacTavish?"

He nods, sharp. "Aye. Might wander around Glasgow for a 'mo."

"And you, soldier?"

Ghost stares down at you. Soap's words surface—keekin' you all night—but you see nothing when you match his stare. When the heavy brunt of his full attention falls on you. 

Soap glances at you, eyes a half-sun. Your hands prickle. You wonder if wandering around might include a trip to the Cairngorms. 

(You imagine you could reach up and kiss the sun. 

Maybe, him, too, if he'd allow it.)

"I—," you tilt your head, nervous suddenly. "I'd like to learn more Scottish. If you wouldn't mind the company." 

"Aye, bonnie." There is victory in his grin. 

Ghost gives a sharp nod, and doesn't wait. 

You watch him leave, suddenly tense. Soap hasn't looked away from you yet. It simmers inside; another fissure. Another crack. The levee wobbles. 

"So…," he says, his voice a tickle in your ear. "About wantin' to seduce a Scot…"

"Not just any Scot," you murmur, eyes low. Framed by the hazy fairy lights, his grin feels like the sun cresting through a storm cloud. 

"Got my heart flichterin‘," he mutters. His hand is warm when it touches your wrist. "Wanna feel, bonnie? Feel what you do to me, hen?"

It feels like you're underwater when you nod. Like you've been dragged below the surface, then spat back up on the sandy shores, drenched in the rays. 

The heat kisses your palm when he presses it flat to his chest. His pulse hums under your lifeline; the grand wings of a bird fluttering in his ribcage. Your nails sink into his shirt, curling over the fabric until it's knotted in your fist. You could hold on to him forever. 

His eyes feel like a dawning sun when they land on you, wrapped in that equinox between day and dusk when you can still bask in the warmth that curtains over you. Liquid honey. Melted wax. It seeps over you, filling the cracks. 

(You, the earth; him, the sun: a perfect perihelion. You bloom under his cosmic heat.)

When you were younger, you'd stand on the hills, and gaze up at it in the aether. Your eyes narrowed into slits, watering from the blaze. The smile on your face was warmed under the rays. 

They warned you, then, when you'd come home with a headache, rubbing your tender eyes, that you'd go blind for it. That the sun would ruin you, that it wasn't meant to be stared at so nakedly. 

You think of it, now, when your eyes begin to crease. When the blistering intensity of him—luminous, bright, blinding –stares, open and raw, back at you. 

—you fucked in the upper car park at the Cairngorms, nestled near the base of a hill. he took you under the setting sun, and whispered how pretty you looked bathed in ochre and desperate for him

—it was Price who bailed you both out after getting slapped with public indecency ("haven't you two ever heard of doggin'?")

—he takes you to a football game for a proper date, your well-won Scottish man, but spanks your ass at home when you cheer for ManU over the Celtics; it's blasphemy in this household

—Gaz doesn't even want to know why you're barely able to sit in the chair, and why Soap looks so damn satisfied whenever you wince

(you tell him, anyway.)

translations (forgot these, oops)

—turadh: A break in the clouds between showers | dry spell

—it’s a dreich day: miserable day

—whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye: what’s meant to happen will happen, or what will be will be

—naff: boring, rubish

—fadachd: yearning, longing

—keek: looking

—yer aff yer heid: acting stupid, someone that's too drunk or talking nonsense

—blootered: drunk

—diddy: coward

—flichterin‘: soft fluttering, as in the wings of a butterfly, or the flame of a candle.

—bonnie: used by older gens; used to describe someone pretty or attractive (is actually gender neutral - could be bonnie lass or bonnie lad)

—hen: used for a younger lady (can also be patronising) but kind of like sweetheart or honey)

#requests #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap x you #john mactavish x reader #john MacTavish x you #john mactavish #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #soap call of duty

[starrvsn]

☆ going public on national boyfriend day

with urban wyatt and jack harlow

liked by jackharlow, milomanheim, i4yn, neelamthadlani and others

ynmiller happy national boyfriend day to the man i call mine @‘jackharlow 🩶 thank you for making my life better and being the one to show me what true love looks like. i admire everything about you, youre hardworking and passionate in what you do and even though we aren’t together right now i just want you to know how much i love you darling 💞 pls come home i miss you and your cute smile !!!!

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jackharlow don't make me cry now sweetheart 🥹

i4yn this is so cute what

druski jus know i was the first choice

jackharlow @'druski no you were not man

lomljackman im so happy that jack found someone that loves him sm 🥹🥹

daydreaminyn why am i just hearing about this now ????!???

claybornharlow only y/n can say corny ass words and make it work

ynmiller @'claybornharlow the backhanded ass compliment >:^(

comments are limited

—

liked by urbanwyatt, lauraharrier, gardenofyneden and others

yneden happy national boyfriend day to my one and only @‘urbanwyatt 🤍 my forever smoke buddy and my biggest supporter thank you for being there for me whenever i need you and always showing me the most love. you always know what to say and know how to have the most fun !!! i don’t know how i go through most days without you and even though you’re sitting next to me while im writing this, i love you sweet cheeks <33

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urbanwyatt love you forever and always baby 🤞🏼

gardenofyneden sweet cheeks :''')

lomljackman couple of the century tbh

jackharlow TRAITOR

edensource eden and urban together ???? i can die in peace now

jackharlow i helped them get together yall, jus know that

urbanwyattupdates @'jackharlow LMAOO MATCHMAKER JACK ?????

sereneeden can't wait for the photo dump urbans gonna post of y/n now theyre official

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star left a message! jus know that i put them in the same post just for the sake of it and i wanted to do something for my baes hence why the usernames for the reader are a bit different and urbans the reader goes by eden :)

make with love, star ♡

#i need to lay down after this #…is this my excuse to post a smau on boyfriends day ?? #yes #i’ve never wrote anything so corny in my life #but i love how this came out hehe #jack harlow #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x you #jack harlow instagram au #jackman thomas harlow #urban wyatt #urban wyatt social media au #urban wyatt fluff #urban wyatt imagines

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

The Blessing To Your Curse - Part 3 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hoo boy this one is a doozy, I hope you're ready because shits about to go downhill uphill and all around lmaoo. I'll try to be more consistent with this series, I'm trying to split my time evenly between this, the royal au, and just doing oneshots but it's gonna be hard with uni starting up again in a few days

Part 2 here

Warnings: blood, gore, descriptions of death, descriptions of self harm

Word Count: 3.9k

“YUJI!”

“NANAMI!”

“ANYONE?!”

You knew it was dangerous to intentionally draw attention to yourself, but you called out for aid nonetheless. You’d reluctantly split off from the group to distract a first grade, being left alone with it before you could blink, and now you’re curled up against a wall while pressing a hand below your ribcage and desperately reaching into the well of your energy to patch the wound. It hadn’t gone horribly wrong, but you couldn’t deny that it hurt like a bitch and you were already tired.

Perhaps there was some remnant of the physical weakness you possessed in your past life after all, some chronic illness that chased you beyond death and rebirth.

“Motherfucker,” You growl, ripping at the side of your shirt to expose more of the wound to your eyes, feeling the skin stitch together as you hiss profanities through your teeth. After purging it of the last of the cursed blood you had been coated with during the fight, it seals up and you slump back, the patch of skin tingling with remnant energy.

Gotta get moving, find Yuji again. You push yourself to your feet, repeating these words as your nails scrape the wall and your hand drags past neon screens and through trails of the gross purple blood. You’re trying not to put weight on your ankle, which twisted in an awkward fall while fighting the first grade, but deciding you can’t afford to lose more time you push on until you reach a set of stairs.

Residuals of cursed energy leak up through the air in your direction, one trace you recognise to be Yuji’s, and a second trace, this one stronger, more potent and reeking of blood. You scrunch your nose at the tangy smell, forcing your feet to take you down the stairs where you find yourself amongst the remnants of a fight. “Yuji?” You call out, coughing slightly as a hint of smoke pierces the air.

You make it further down the hallway when you hear voices, and suddenly a wave of malice washes over you, forcing you to your knees. “I’ll give you one second,” You hear his voice around the next corner and crawl to press your back against the wall, making yourself as small as possible, “Move,” Heavy breathing near you catches your attention and you finally notice the two girls in an alcove across from you.

You press your hand to your mouth as they stare at an unknown figure that you’re now almost certain is Sukuna, the special grade curse that moves to stand at their side equally terrified but trying not to let it show. They’re like statues, and Sukuna’s footsteps ring out in the still air like shots from a pellet gun. Your eyes travel to the figure walking towards them and away from you, its Sukuna alright, his face stoic and empty of emotion as he approaches the group of three.

“You hold your heads quite high,” He rumbles, brushing the pink hair up from his forehead, and you watch as he takes a chunk off the top of the special grade’s head with a single thought, missing the two girls because they duck far enough to the ground. Smart girls, you think to yourself in passing, perhaps I should step in and save them.

He may be amicable now, but you know he can turn on a dime at any second. “Did you believe taking one knee would be enough? The boughs that bear most hang lowest, yes? But I guess you guys are pretty lightweight,” He looks to the girls, “You kids first, you wanted…” He trails off, his head angling slightly towards you and you see his nose twitch before he turns and you meet his ruby red gaze, “What have we here?”

Your heart is thumping practically through your chest as you drop your hand from your mouth, taking low deep breaths to try and calm yourself, “My lord,” You murmur, his power overwhelming you into submission. He’s in front of you in an instant, but you can see his unwillingness to bend down and assist you in front of an audience.

You hear a protestation in your mind at your term of address and you relax your shoulders, pressing yourself against the wall awkwardly to pull yourself to your feet, “Sukuna,” You murmur, low enough so as you cast your gaze over his shoulder at the special grade you know they cannot hear you, “Forgive me, I tried to find Yuji before anything could happen,”

He shakes his head, “No matter, I have business with these three anyway,” He looks over his shoulder, following your gaze, but you place a hand out of sight over where Yuji’s heart lies. “Spare the girls,” You whisper, looking away, “For my sake. Let me fulfil their demands,” He lets out a bark of a laugh, catching you off guard a little, “Will that leave you strong enough for what I need?”

You look back into his eyes, see the flash of concern passing through his gaze and his hand hovers over yours for a moment, the twinge in your ankle disappearing in an instant. “I will be,” You steel yourself, dropping your hand back to your side, “For you,”

After a moment of gazing into your eyes he turns and walks back to the girls, “What did you want to ask? I’ll grant you a finger’s worth of time,” He inspects his nails and then brushes them on the front of the supremely fucked up jacket that almost barely covers his torso at this point, allowing you a glimpse of the tattoos on his back, “Now talk,”

One of the girls, the mousy brunette, glances up at you for just a second, letting you see the tear tracks running down her cheeks as she speaks, “Below us, there’s a man in monks robes, with stitches across his forehead,” She mumbles. You flinch and look away, you know exactly who she speaks of, and it’s the man who’s been haunting your prophetic dreams since you were a child.

You knew through your time at Jujutsu High that Suguru Geto would turn his back, and after his death you thought it was over, but things are never that simple. “Please, kill him,” Sukuna glances back at you and you can feel his essence behind your eyelids as his manifestation enters your mind, “Is the roleplaying monk the one you dream of?” You nod, digging your fingernails into your palm as the other hand clutches at your chest.

You feel rather than see him roll his eyes as he breaks eye contact, “What an asshole,” He grunts, turning back to the girls. “And also, please free Geto,” The other girl whimpers, making your eyes water. You can still sense Geto beyond death, he may not be strong enough to free himself, and you know someone like Sukuna or Gojo or Yuta could, but Gojo is nothing but a liability when it comes to his former best friend.

“We know the location of one other finger-“ “Quit whining,” Sukuna snaps, and both girls are silent as mice, “Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?” He pouts slightly, “How insulting, you’re lucky my queen is present, or I’d have your heads where you kneel,”

He regards them with a look you can only describe as voracious and then nudges the dark haired girl’s forehead with the toe of his shoe. She keeps her eyes firmly shut as her head is forced into a more upright position, her face turned up towards his, “You see her standing there?” He asks quietly.

The girl opens her eyes and locks them onto yours though you’re quite sure she cannot see you through the veil of her tears. “She’s the only reason the two of you are still alive, if I were you I’d be thankful and go to her before I change my mind,” His tone is mocking, he’s enjoying this, and some small part of you is too.

But you barely have a chance to protest before they’re stumbling to their feet, heads still bowed, and they’re by your side in an instant, tucking themselves behind you so you stand between them and your ferocious lover. “If you wish for them to live that badly then get them out of here, it’s about to get… a little hot,” His voice rings through your mind and you turn obediently, looking between the girls for a moment.

They appear to be equally as afraid of you as they are of Sukuna, and you have a fleeting memory pass through your mind of seeing them with Geto before the Night parade of a Hundred Demons. “Come on,” You say flatly, “It’s not going to be safe here much longer,” Not that you can claim it ever was safe for anyone but you, putting you between Sukuna’s technique and them doesn’t change a thing because his technique can’t hurt you, but you’re not going to tell them that and shatter their hope.

“Geto will die,” You murmur as you nudge them in front of you, “I have seen it,” Again, you’re not going to tell them how much time there is until the day comes, but you want to at least reassure them that something will happen. “How do you know?” The mousy brunette looks back at you and you stop walking, having made it far enough down the hallway that you would no longer see Sukuna if you were to look over your shoulder.

You meet her gaze, blinking slowly, “And why would I reveal that? What have you done besides demand from my king?” She flinches as if remembering who you are to him, “What are your names?” “Nanako,” The one who spoke murmurs. “Mimiko,” The other adds quickly, “We’re sorry, please, we thought maybe if we helped him then he would help us, he’s so strong that surely killing Geto would be nothing for him,”

You let Mimiko finish her little spiel before pushing between them and continuing to walk, remaining quiet. They don’t follow for a moment before deciding you’re the lesser of two evils and then catching up to you. “You never make requests of Sukuna,” You murmur, “Not if the fate of the world depends on it,” “What is it that you know?” Nanako murmurs.

You spin to face them, making yourself dizzy for a moment before you fix your glare on her wide brown eyes, “The last person to make a request of him and live to tell the tale beyond his grasp was the only person he ever loved, over a thousand years ago, and through no fault of his own he failed to fulfil her request,” You snap. Sometimes, now that you remember, you’re forced to relive your own death through your dreams.

The spray of razor sharp barbs hitting your back from the insect-like curses chasing you, dragging through your skin and shredding your insides like serrated knives. Your heart weakening with every beat, legs still running despite the fact there was a steady ooze of blood from around each point that cruelly stuck out from the front of your robes.

You remember you tripped on the path as his house came into view, falling to your knees, you nudged one of the barbs, it’s pointed edge taunting you with the rosy shine of your own blood. You remember the sound of your own screams drawing him from his house, only for you to bleed out in his arms, his face twisted and streaked with tears.

Tears that bound your soul to his in a futile effort to keep you alive, only succeeding in delaying the inevitable for but a few moments, allowing a proper vow to fall from his lips. You still feel the chains he put there, still feel his soul on the other side.

The girls eyes are fearful and you wish you could be sure if they know exactly what you’re trying to imply, but you won’t dwell on it any longer. “I’m going to get you to our healer, and you’re going to stay there without complaint, or I’m going to kill you myself, you understand?” They nod, eyes filled with fear as you grow deadly, feeling Sukuna’s gleeful bloodlust flood your senses.

Seething with quiet rage you escort them back to Shoko who, despite looking at you like you’ve grown a second head, lets you attempt to return to the fight. Although you aren’t entirely sure where anyone is anymore, you’ve somehow managed to get caught up in Sukuna’s domain, the slashes glancing harmlessly off your skin as you search for the epicentre.

“SUKUNA!” You shout, pressing forwards through the spray. It’s almost like rain, and you shake your head to clear your thoughts, trying your hardest to see anything. Finally in the darkness, you catch a glimpse of the shrine that lies at the centre of Sukuna’s domain, the jaws wide open and ominous as always.

This happens as the domain subsides, and you see his pink hair across from you at the edge of the destruction. “SUKUNA!” He looks towards you as you stumble in his direction, pulling yourself out of the hole as your chest heaves. “I thought I told you to get out of here,” He growls, hauling you to your feet by your upper arm.

You cough as you inhale some concrete dust, “If we want to do this body thing, now is the best time we have,” You croak, “Nobody else is around,” Sukuna smirks and looks past you for a moment, “Just wait a moment will you,”

You fall silent as he steps around you towards the hole, “Make sure to savour this for me brat,” Sukuna’s energy softly fades and you whip your head around, “Sukuna!” You growl, “You moron!” The tattoos fade and you see his hands start to shake.

Yuji grabs his face and you’re afraid to touch him, but he falls to his knees and you’re quickly by his side, “LET ME DIE!” He screams, dragging his fingertips along the rough concrete and shaving chunks of viscera off, “ONLY ME!” You make a mental note to chew Sukuna out later, this isn’t how you wanted to proceed.

 “Yuji listen to me, you made me a promise,” You grunt, pulling him back off the ground into your arms with yours hooked under his shoulders to prevent him from hurting himself anymore. “He can have my body,” Yuji sobs, burying his face against your arm, “I don’t deserve to live!” He wails.

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” You growl, grabbing his chin and making him look up at you. You know your eyes must be a reflection of Sukuna’s, you can see how terrified he is, “You promised me that you would assist me, and I promised you I would protect you,”

“Innocent people died!” He pulls away from you, “And it’s all my fault, I’m not strong enough, I just…” He trails off, breathing heavily, “I can’t understand how or why you love him, I just can’t,” Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, leaving trails through the dust and dirt, “Yuji, I…”

You know what you want to say, you want to remind him that you’re technically a thousand years old, you knew him before he was like… this… and you’re sure you can return him at least to a more docile state, but he’s like a caged wolf right now. Fulfilling an oath that has no purpose anymore other than to feed his bloodlust.

Instead, you take his hands in your own disregarding the state of his fingers to just hold him. “I will readily accept that this is partially my fault, I probably could have stopped him in the subway and I didn’t, but right now I need you to let me do this. The sooner he is out of your body the sooner your body is your own again,” You plead softly.

His shoulders droop and he nods, “Yeah, yeah, go on then,” He murmurs. You steel yourself, you hadn’t had the chance to practice this step because you couldn’t risk accidentally cloning Sukuna, so you had one shot to get it right.

You shift so you’re on your knees, still holding his hands, and using the blood from his fingers you paint a small chevron symbol on his forehead. It begins to glow as you reach deep into your soul, the well of energy within you stirring.

His eyes are full of tears as he looks at you, and you have to blink away your own again as the two of you begin to glow. There aren’t words in any language that can properly describe what exactly it is that you do, you suppose if your modern day clan had survived then you’d know what it was you were doing, but you could only follow your instincts and hope that everything went smoothly.

A trail of strange white energy, formless and malleable, pulls from the wounded tips of Yuji’s fingers, trailing out like blossoms in the wind and eventually forming something resembling a human beside you. You reach one hand towards it, maintaining your connection to Yuji and pressing your other to the pale form that is gradually taking on colour.

It occurs to you as Sukuna’s form begins to take shape before you that you have no clothes for him, you really hadn’t thought as far ahead as you should have, and Yuji averts his eyes, emptying the contents of his stomach away from the strange new body.

It takes a few more minutes and some small adjustments but soon the body is finished, and it looks just as you remember from before your death. “How the hell do we get him into the body now?” Yuji asks?” “Like this,” You turn to him, pressing your hand to the side of his face as his eyes widen.

Tattoos form on his skin and his eyes waver between brown and red momentarily, before Sukuna responds to your power and pushes forward. “You called?” He tilts his head with a smirk, grabbing your chin and inspecting the tear tracks on your face, “Did the brat make you cry?”

You shake your head, “No he didn’t, now will you hurry up and do whatever it is you have to do to switch bodies?” You murmur, exhaustion gripping at your limbs. He looks down, nodding with approval as he lets you go, “Your craft is immaculate as always,” He murmurs, trailing his fingers over the unblemished skin.

You rub your jaw, clicking your neck momentarily as you look around, spotting a somewhat intact clothing store a few doors down from you, “I’ll be right back,” You haul yourself to your feet, stumbling towards the shattered glass and into the shop. It takes a few minutes but eventually you find all the essentials to just cover him up, underwear, sweatpants, and a simple t-shirt that has a generic band logo you don’t recognise on the back.

Making sure it’s all in a larger size you lurch back out onto the street, noticing the new body sitting up and flexing his fingers, his body adorned with tattoos and his face changed, returned to the half-twisted state. Yuji is trembling on his side a couple metres away, his back facing the two of you as you return to them.

It only takes you a moment to realise what happened, Sukuna made the new body eat one of Yuji’s fingers, and you frown at him sternly, “Heal him,” You grunt, hitting his shoulder with the back of your hand. He snatches the clothes off you without responding, you fall back onto your butt and shuffle over to Yuji, “Oh Yuji,” You murmur.

“You heal him if you care so much, he’s just a brat,” Sukuna growls and you whip your head back to look at him, fury giving you a shot of adrenaline, “I just used up almost all of my energy reserves to create a new body for you from nothing, you fucking owe me, I don’t care how much you hate him,”

His face remains stoic and you stand, poking his chest viciously, “I brought you into this world, I can fucking take you out of it, I don’t care, you better not make me think I just wasted everything I had for nothing,” He rolls his eyes, pushing past you and bending down, his hand on Yuji’s side frightens the boy for a moment but he relaxes as Sukuna’s reverse cursed technique flows through him, growing back the finger he stole and healing his other fingertips.

“Are you happy now?” He growls, standing up and looking down on you. You spit off to the side, saliva mixed with blood, “I won’t be happy until you stop treating me like a fucking worm, I gave you your own body and now you think you can treat me like this? Is this how you show appreciation to someone who you’ve apparently lied to every time you’ve told them you loved them?”

His demeanour is softened the moment you accuse him of lying and you feel a momentary sting of regret, but you just spent all of your energy giving his own body. It’ll take you weeks to recover from this. If he isn’t willing to fight in your place, then what was it all for?

You want to cry again, you want to burst into tears and fall to your knees, you want to stay by Yuji’s side and just give up hope. This isn’t the man you knew, you should’ve been more careful, shouldn’t have so readily trusted him when he showed you his memories. He’s changed too much, and you’re afraid you’ll never get him back.

You do eventually tire of Sukuna’s solemn silence, slumping down on the rubble next to Yuji and apologizing softly, repeatedly. You know that no amount of words will ever make up for what he’s gone through, but as long as you stay with him he might have a chance of getting through this.

“Y/n,” Sukuna rumbles. You look back to him, he’s sat casually just beside you, “You’re the only thing I want in this world, without you I am nothing but a curse seeking endless vengeance,” You feel Yuji roll over and press his face against the side of your thigh, “You give me a purpose, and if you don’t trust me that’s ok, just…”

He reaches for you and you let him take your hand, looking up into his eyes, “You made me human again,” He murmurs, “I… I remember what it’s like to love, and I will stay by your side until you believe me and you love me too,” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, choosing to remain silent but nodding slightly.

His eyes close and your free hand rests on Yuji’s back. It will take time, and this fight is far from over, but you’re sure that things will begin to heal. Even if you end up on the run from Jujutsu society for the rest of your life, at least you have him back. At least you can go about trying to save some of your friends.

I think this takes the prize for my favourite chapter so far, maybe it's just the whole 'writers are their own worst enemies' thing (is that how that goes? idk) and because it's the most recent one lol

also i hope yall dont mind me saving characters who died in shibuya, but i mean it's my fic and i get to choose who lives >:)

Part 4 coming soon

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #yuji itadori

[hyunsvngs]

hey baeee

so im def a stonerslut and im glad we have established hanji as the designated stoner of skz, maybe felix too w his special brownie recipes lol,

but i was wondering if we’ve established any other stoner hc’s for any of the other boys? one of mine is definitely hyun, mostly taking place in a college au (dare i say stoner hyunsung roommate bffs) LMAO bro def sparks up and finishes his art projects in the dead of night <33

oh felix and his special brownie recipes. i'm also a stonerslut getting stoned tonight actually and i know this has been sitting in my inbox for a while but it feels RIGHT answering it right now.

so because i'm delusional and a stoner ANYWAy. (also please please send me more stoner skz asks because i really want to write more about these) and thank to bby mayu @jyu037 for helping <3

chan who definitely smokes regular joints and is a fucking master at rolling them. has the fun coloured papers and swears to god that weed makes him make better music. he also swears it makes blowjobs better so obviously you have to give him one everytime you're both high despite the cotton mouth LOL. likes to bottom when he's high!! always cums so quickly but he just keeps going, he just wants more. not too loud, quiet little whimpers here and there.

minho who smokes in his room to destress at night and definitely ends up jerking off. when you two get together, you both hit the bong together and fuck stoned regularly and it changes your lives. he'd have a stupid little smile on his face and just be grinning at you like a freak. soft giggly sex with minho when he's high and he'd be moaning so loud like a fucking pornstar because it feels so good! hyper focused on your ass. smokes strains that make him kinda lazy so he just likes to lay there and use lots of toys on u <3

changbin who would just be so fucking sexy smoking man. like imagine him sat relaxed in a tight fitting t-shirt smoking a j? no i'm literally clenching. i can imagine him with one of those cute little pipes too and i also think changbin could be a bong man. definitely wants you on his lap when you smoke so he can put the joint to your lips and also smoke you out lol. probs shoves his hand up your skirt while you sit in his lap with that sexy little downturned smile. definitely hits it from the back while he smokes his joints and probably rolls FAT blunts too

hyunjin who yes 100% does get high and finishes his art in the middle of the night. i see hyunjin with a small little glass bong orrr a crystal pipe? and he likes to get high and finish his paintings because in the morning it's probably just a bunch of colours on the page but he swore it was a masterpiece the night before. definitely gets all giggly and blushy too! and gets extreme munchies. also high hyune who paints on you because he likes the colours. drools all over you when he fucks you high and gets so sloppy, keeps cumming inside and just can't stop fucking you

jisung who's a horny high. can't roll for shit and makes chan pack the bong for him too lol. he weirdly knows everything about every single fucking strain and would love to grow a few plants of his own just for personal use because he somehow knows everything about that too. CERTIFIED STONER. probs palms his cock unashamed in the studio when 3racha get high and chan and changbin r just used to it. if you two got high together he'd NEED to eat you out, not above begging for it and gets so pussy drunk!! if you fucked high he would cum two pumps in and not even be ashamed, groaning all "that's what good pussy does." and continues to fuck you senseless LMAOO

felix with his weed brownies yeah!! he'd probably make weed cookies too, or like little weed red velvet cupcakes?! he's so cutie. i honestly think he prefers edibles to actual joints or smoking it in general, but if changbin's got a joint going he'll steal a few tokes. maybe changbin smokes him out too lol idk (i'm going fucking crazy). likes to watch cute little cartoons and disney films when he's high and get all bundles up in blankies :( alsooo usually not horny but then he tries a strain like wedding cake and gets so hard. just starts rocking ur shit and won't stop until ur shaking and empty minded and he's still hard. it's like viagra

seungmin who is definitely a very chill stoner. definitely does it to de-stress and everytime you piss yourself laughing over something he just does a little chuckle he's not bothered. and he definitely talks about the meaning of life and conspiracy theories. meeeean sex like he's usually mean but when he's high he's so much more condescending. takes it as far as stepping on you and spitting on your face. miiiind blowing sex and then the aftercare is him asking you how you think stonehenge got there

jeongin who is confused at first but an absolute menace after you smoke him out a couple times. you teach him how to roll if not only just to watch his hands and his tongue when he does it. definitely a pre rolled joint type of guy and only rolls when he's with you because you see it as foreplay. flirty, says the nastiest fucking shit when he's high and probably fucks your throat while smoking a pre roll, maybe even finishing it when he's got you on all fours for him... (might put it out on your asscheek). so loud, sloppy, messy. when the horny subsides he's got the munchies and begs you to make him instant ramen and then probably spills it on himself and burns himself with the soup

#juno’s asks ♡ #sweet baby anon #stoner!skz

[ryusuisloveinterest]

hallo!! may I please request hcs with stanley snyder being your commander? like, you're in the military and in his unit and he's quite fond of you and develops and crush on you that you later reciprocate, and he like, tells Xeno abt it lmaoo thank you!! love your writing!!

hello anon! I’m not sure if you’re the anon that normally requests so you’re now officially 💙 anon lol. There was so many things I wrote that it might as well be a scenario in hc format if that makes any sense at all. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Stanley Snyder’s crush on his subordinate 💓

OH BOY WHERE DO I BEGIN

I think the first thing that would’ve drawn him to you is how you’re not afraid to speak your mind

While all of his other subordinates just mindlessly follow orders, you need to know why and don’t have a problem saying no

“On our next mission we’re going to have to take over a town until there is a peace treaty.”

“Why?”

“Because the enemy has to know we are serious about our demands.”

“Then what’ll happen if they still don’t agree. I’m not going to kill innocents commander!”

“No one is killing innocents. We’ll discuss it more when the time comes.”

Then of course you carried out the mission perfectly 

You’ve never once let him down 

From then on he thought you were the hottest person to ever exist

He tried to talk to you about personal things time to time but he found it hard because he has a hard time sharing things with people in the first place 

“So…do you smoke?”

“No commander, I value my lungs.”

The only exception to this is Xeno

Xeno and Stanley love talking to each other no matter what about, but they get even more excited when their friend talks about the thing they love

Every time Xeno hears Stanley mention your name he smiles to himself for his friend’s happiness 

“Found them changing an old man’s battery for his car today.” Stanley tells Xeno as he lights his cigarette. “When I asked them about it they told me they wanted to learn so they can teach their little sister.”

Xeno chuckles as he finishes mixing his concoction. “Maybe they can help you when you need to change your oil again. God knows you nearly flooded the Earth again with the amount of oil that spilt everywhere.”

Stanley never really asked you out, but it was clear that that’s what he was trying to do 

There was a military ball being held and Stanley was supposed to get an award and give a speech

He wasn’t nervous, after all he’s gotten plenty of awards. But the minute he saw you in your dress/suit, everything that was in his head instantly left

“Good evening (y/n). If I may say, you look absolutely stunning in your dress/suit.” 

You chuckle. “Thank you commander. And if it’s not out of my place I must tell you that you look very handsome in that suit. But of course you seem to look handsome in anything you wear,” you tell him as you place a hand on where his medal will be. “Congratulations on your award.”

With that you try to walk off. Notice the try😉

He instantly grabs your arm. “Dance with me.”

You raise an amused eyebrow. 

“It’s an order soldier.”

And with that the whole night the two of you were together. He introduced you to Xeno despite him basically knowing who you are. You dance with him, drink with him, talk laugh and everything else!

He almost forgot he got an award and has to make a speech lol

After the ball he insists he should walk you to your room 

When you get there, you both tell each other how much fun you had tonight.

Blame it on the alcohol or Stanley just being so sick and tired of wanting to be with you that he just kisses you

To his surprise you kiss back

You two kinda sorta make out in your bedroom for a hot minute but you push him off 🫢

“G-goodnight commander, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When tomorrow comes and he starts assigning chores for his subordinates to do when I he can’t find your name of the list

He checked it again and again and again and again and you get the idea

He asks someone about it and they tell him you’re leaving the regiment 

He’s so shocked and mad he just storms to your quarters

“(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU DROPPING OUT???”

Your sister that you’ve mentioned before is standing with a box in her hand as you tape another

“This is who you’ve settled for (y/n)?” Your sister asked you.

You chuckle and send her out to give you and Stanley some privacy

Stanley, arms crossed, waits there with a pout on his face

“I’ve found a job as a personal body guard for a new big singer. The pay is good but I won’t be working under you anymore so-“

“Is this about last night? Look I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or overstepped your boundary. I just couldn’t contain my feelings for you! But please you don’t have to le-“

“Will you let me finish commander? I’m leaving so I can pursue a relationship with you without all the other subordinates talking shit!”

His face is blank, but then he tried to hide the dumb smiling that’s just trying to form on his face 

He coughs. “Very well. I’m glad you want this as much as me.”

You stick your empty gun at his throat 

“Don’t make me regret it.” You tell him

Man he’s so in love with you 

#dr stone #dcst #dr stone headcanons #stanley snyder x you #stanley snyder headcanons #stanley snyder x reader #stanley snyder

[cantchoosejust1]

Cardinal Sins - A Different Route

[I’ve decided to actually bite the bullet and write my own smut, Iord knows I’ve driven @gimmethosedaddymilkers mad from all my horny prompts LMAOO - this is a continuation of “Cardinal Sins and Other Desires” except the reader gets to dom Arthur (at first) hehehehehe - while I know the reader is wearing a nun outfit, I will be making them gender neutral, I didn’t use Y/N or any pronouns - sorry if the body description feels awkward, it’s been a while since I’ve written and I only know the perspective of AFAB!reader, so bear with me! I’m not good at adding tags or warnings either, feel free to let me know what I missed - have fun!!]

taglist stolen from the original post lmao:  @mrsarthurmorgan7 @kieropal @photo1030 @pcotarelo @6kaja9

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: sex, priest kink, bondage by rosary, edging-ish, descriptions of demons, this shit is freak nasty in my opinion so just be cautious

This fic is 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You roll your eyes but your hand finds its way to his thighs, patting along the robe in an attempt to find said matches

Of course he has matches on him, he can’t go more than an hour or two without a smoke. 

“Mhmm…careful, you’re gonna hit somethin’ else while you’re down there.” 

“Why the hell are you so horny right now, I’m not even wearing anything revealing-”

“Maybe I’ve been possessed, need some holy water…” 

“Arthur please, can we find the money?” 

“I’m sure we can, but I’m sure I’d be a lot more focused after…”

“Alright, thats it-” you growled. Twisting the rosary in your hand, you harshly place it around Arthur’s wrists and grip them together, startling him. With quick steps and momentum, you push his body backwards until his back hits a wall. Arthur grunts upon impact, a random object clattering to the ground.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you try to focus on Arthur’s face and mutter, “Keep it in your pants Father, or I’ll have to discipline you later.” 

You huff in frustration, the heat blowing across Arthur’s face. Wanting to play along with his silly game, you brought your lips to the exposed skin of his neck. Where you going to admit this was a secret fantasy of yours too? Hell no. Wetting your tongue, you lick beneath his jaw and finish off by flicking his ear lobe once. You laughed inwardly at the idea of Arthur’s so called “demon” having been transferred to your body. The hairs of his sideburns tickled your cheek as you placed your lips tentatively close to his ear.

“Then again, maybe I should exorcise that demon out of you before it corrupts your poor soul. Would you like that, Father Morgan?”

Your vision was able to focus in the darkness, giving you the chance to semi-clearly see Arthur’s face. His eyes wide open, his lips quivering and taking quick shaky breaths, his body shivers harshly as he peers into your lust filled glare. After a few seconds, you press his hands onto his chest near his heart, which is beating wildly. He whimpers as the rosary starts to cut into his skin, but he ignores it as he’s only able to focus on the feeling of your knee pushed between his legs.

As he’s distracted and unable - or rather not daring - to move, your free hand wanders down, exploring his body.

Arthur knew better to not act this way, especially in a church. But in this moment he didn’t give a damn, not with the way your hand quickly brushed against his hip and thigh “searching” for his matches. And he knew this was exciting you too with the way you purposely brush against his clothed heat, eliciting a high pitched sigh from his throat.

You glanced up, your eyes hooded, pupils dilating, watching Arthur slowly unravel. He looks at you with hazy eyes, taking deep breaths. Squeezing his right thigh once, you slowly drag the back of your fingers upwards, deliberately placing more pressure on his erection. Arthur couldn’t stop the moan from escaping his lips, his voice reverberating against the walls.

The basement door opens. “Hello?”

In a second, you shot up and placed your hand over Arthur’s mouth, trying not to slap him by accident. You hold your body against his and look into his eyes to communicate a silent warning.

“If anybody is down there, the church is closed!” the voice yells, taking a second to listen for any noises. The person hummed in confusion, “Must’ve been my imagination then.”

The door slams shut and footsteps recede, but you wait a few more seconds to be absolutely sure the person has left. Huffing, you back away from Arthur to give yourselves some breathing room, the stress of almost getting caught making your heart thrum with worry and excitement.

Arthur takes his time to control his panting, goosebumps fluttering across his body at the chill from losing your heat. His head perks up at the sound of you shaking his matches. You smirk, “Found them.”

The mission didn’t take long after that steamy ordeal. The object that conveniently fell on the floor was a lantern, which you gladly used Arthur’s matches to light. As he gained his composure back, Arthur removed the rosary from his wrists - seeing in the dim light some welts forming on his delicate skin - untangling it and placing it in his pocket.

Wasting no more time, you were both able to locate the money and figured out a plan of escape that didn’t involve going back up the stairs, assuming the person locked it behind them. By then, it had gone dark, the sun hidden away to allow the moon to shine its lovely light and the stars to shimmer against the dark sky. The sounds of your running footsteps hitting the stone road were covered by the noise of a nearby rowdy bar and its even rowdier patrons. You and Arthur were able to reach your horses without worry, bags of money hidden beneath clothes and stuffed quickly into empty saddle bags; whatever money didn’t fit was placed into a separate bag that you carried on hand, making sure to check for any rips or tears as not to risk losing any money and potentially upsetting Dutch.

Arthur took the lead on the way back to camp, avoiding any main roads, trying to get out as fast as possible. When he figured y’all were a few decent miles away did he spur his horse forward, startling you into an unexpected race. You began laughing at the thrill of it all, Arthur joining in with a big belly laugh. As you began nearing camp, Arthur slowed down his horse to a trot, allowing the chance to catch a quick breath.

“I can’t believe we managed to do that,” he said, his smile reaching his ears, hair whipped from the wind, twisting every which way (like he even cared).

You snorted, “I told you, confidence is important when it comes to missions like these.” You gave a mad huff and smacked his left thigh, making Arthur yelp in pain and surprise. “We could’ve been done sooner if you didn’t get riled up! My skin ain’t showing and yet you’re over here acting like a bitch in heat.”

“Oh come on, darlin’, could you really blame me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll admit it was bad timing. I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing your right hand to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “I’m sorry… that you look so fine in that get up-”

You yanked your hand away, yelling, “Arthur Morgan!!”

He laughed once more, urging his horse to pick up more speed as he neared the path heading into camp. He could hear the crackle of the fire and smell the burning wood, the sound of a bottle being opened spurred him to go a tad bit faster. Nearing the stables, Arthur swiftly greeted Charles and jumped off his horse to head over to the crate holding said bottles. Grabbing one by the neck, he made his way over to an empty table and popped the bottle open. He found himself feeling so thirsty, but the idea of water didn’t appeal to him; rather the sensation of his nostrils burning, tasting the bitter alcohol coat his tongue as it ran down his throat. 

Before meeting you, alcohol was a comforting friend to Arthur, one he could always lean on for any kind of situation, bad or good. Eventually, having now formed a strong bond with you, he began to drink more socially. Except for the times he goes back to his old friend to help him forget, like he’s doing now. He ignored the sounds of everyone around him, letting himself focus on the golden liquid, trying to push the mission’s events to the back of his mind. But the feeling of your hands on his body haven’t left, making him hungry, just not for food.

 As he went to take another gulp, Dutch patted him on the back and stole the bottle from Arthur’s hand.

“Easy there, son, don’t go celebrating just yet.” Arthur almost grabbed the bottle back, but Dutch took it farther from reach, waiting for a response, to know if his wondrous plan had blessed him with riches.

Arthur growled, abruptly standing to go around Dutch, back toward the stables. His shaking hands struggled to grab the bags filled with money, his annoyance puffing out in smoke through his nostrils. You came up next to him and helped to remove the bag, giving Arthur the chance to turn back around and forcefully slam the money on the table. Dutch stared in awe as some bills spilled out, a few coins rolling out before settling on the table. He almost started yelling in excitement before he saw your form coming toward him with the other bags of money, letting out a grunt as they slipped off your shoulder and landed on the table with a thud.

“This better be enough to last us a while ‘cause I don’t feel like dressing up again, Dutch,” you said. Placing your hands on your lower back, you pushed your spine forward until you heard a crack, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“This- hehe..” - he grabbed a couple wads of cash - “is more than enough. Thank you, both of you! HAHA, can you believe it, Hosea?!” 

Dutch ran off to find said man, leaving you to take a seat beside Arthur, who has long since finished his liquor and just stared at the money, absentmindedly.

“Hey,” you whispered. Arthur glanced up. 

“You’re not still thinking about earlier, are you?” Cocking an eyebrow, you failed at suppressing a smile from forming, the corner of your lip curling at the thought of seeing Arthur look upon you as if you were his god, so defenseless beneath your touch.

Arthur felt his cheeks begin to burn, he clenched his teeth and turned his head away from you to stare at the ground. He made no effort in trying to respond, the feelings from earlier starting to creep into his nerves, his cock twitching at the memory of feeling your hand pressed against it. You watched his shoulders shudder and took that as a ‘yes.’ You stood from the table, placing your middle finger on Arthur’s right shoulder and dragged your nail slowly to the left, watching as his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck straightened out.

Leaning down to Arthur’s left ear, continuing to whisper, “My offer still stands, Father Morgan. I’d love nothing more than to fuck that demon out of your poor, aching body.”

You lick the shell of his ear, scratching his shoulder before removing yourself and walking off to your tent, once again leaving Arthur cold. And horny.

Arthur knew better than to keep drinking, if he was going to experience this pleasure with you, he wanted to do it (relatively) sober. He’s already drunk with lust, maybe even love, but that’s a topic he’d rather discuss with his head and not the raging boner crowding his already tight pants.

Luckily, everybody in camp was too focused on the win, already thanking and congratulating Arthur on the glorious bounty. They all celebrated by drinking and dancing around the formed bonfire, their throats sore with the amount of alcohol being consumed and their loud singing. Javier wasted no time in strumming his already tuned guitar and led them all into a song about love and riches, making sure to wink at Arthur specifically as he sang the verse about love.

Knowing Javier saw their interaction, Arthur looked away in embarrassment, dreading the idea of hearing Javier’s constant teasing. About how Arthur is wrapped around your finger, a tough cowboy now whipped by someone who outwardly looked weaker than him. But that’s what Arthur loved about you; behind your seemingly quiet demeanor was a smart, quick witted, stubborn yet loyal person Arthur was proud to call "his." He knew you both loved each other equally, yet he couldn’t bring himself to the idea of being this vulnerable with you!

…But like hell was he gonna lose this chance. He regrets a lot of things in his life, and this interaction will not be one of them. Having waited long enough to where everyone was too drunk to notice him, he slipped away from the table and made quick strides toward your tent, sending a wink back to Javier on his way over. He was lucky your tent was farthest from the bonfire because he knew this was going to get loud and messy.

Standing a few feet away from your tent, Arthur reached into his pocket and dug around to pull out your rosary. He clenched it around his right hand, stepping once… twice… inching closer to the flap of your sacred space.

“Have you come to confess your sins?” you said.

Arthur sucked in a breath, his heart accelerated when hearing your sultry voice. The idea of touching your skin sent the blood rushing from one head to another, the flaming passion igniting in his body gave him the final push to go through your tent.

Ohhh…. Shit.

There you were, sitting on your knees upon your bed, stripped free of the nun costume. The soft blue glow of the moon peeking in through the cracks of your tent being the only thing covering your bare skin. With one more shaky step forward, Arthur fell upon his knees, a priest before his god. He grasped the rosary even tighter, the cross pressing deep into his palm. Without clear direction on your part, Arthur wrapped his wrists between the beads. Clasping his hands together so tightly they turned white, he offered them to you.

“Please… forgive me, for I have sinned,” he panted, voice dropping an octave on the last word. Licking his lips and swallowing, he said, “It has been a few weeks since my last... confession.”

Placing your hands on your knees, you opened your legs a bit and leaned an inch further, watching as Arthur’s eyes bounced from your sex to your perked nipples before landing on your pouty lips. He swore the shadow behind your head was painted with the biggest devil horns imaginable.

“I know of your sins, Father Morgan,” you said. He inhaled quickly at the sound of his name, staring at you wide eyed. “And no amount of prayer will absolve you.”

Arthur hung his head low, choking back the apology he was going to say for his earlier actions in the church basement.

“However-”

“Yes?!” he said briskly. The whiplash he got from lifting his head too fast was painful, but he chose to ignore it, opting to focus on your wicked smile. 

You let out a giggle, “While, I am a firm believer that actions speak more volume than words ever could--”

You lift yourself off your legs and plant both feet on the floor, sitting comfortably on the cot. Arthur stared as you spread your thighs apart to show yourself fully before him, your sex leaking with arousal. You place your dominant hand in front of you, slightly blocking the view to show him your index finger beckoning him. Without question, Arthur moved swiftly but clumsily to you, abruptly stopping when you placed your palm on his sweaty forehead.

The sigh he let out as you pet the top of his head changed to a groan as you suddenly grasp the hairs atop his crown. You push his head back to make him look at you, saying, “You get one chance to repent. Make it count, Father, or your soul will suffer until your next confession. Do I make myself clear?”

He nods diligently, his voice a whisper among his heavy breathing. “Yes!… Yes, yes, I promise.”

With his final consent, you push his head forward, moaning as he makes first contact with your sex. His mouth was wet, saliva collecting on his tongue as he licked from bottom to top, making sure to focus his movements on the spots he knows you’re most sensitive.

“Oooohh~ ffuuck, yes Arthur!” you gasp. “Good boy, good- AH!” One lick upon a special spot made you push his face closer.

He repeatedly ran his tongue over the same spot, studying your facial expressions painted in ecstasy. The way your eyes were tightly closed as you focused on the pleasure he gave you, your mouth gaping open, the air making it dry.

“SHHIIIT-- just like that! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!!” you chanted, head swung back, using the arm behind you as an anchor to prevent yourself from falling backwards. 

By now, you threw your legs over Arthur’s shoulders, digging your heels on his back, feeling your toes curl and uncurl every other second. A wave of pleasure bloomed from your sex and spread across every nerve in your body, signaling the arrival of your climax. You let go of Arthur’s hair to plant it behind you for more balance, trusting him to finish his prayer. He knew you were getting closer too, hearing the way you took bigger breaths in anticipation, your nails scratching the covers. Keeping the same pace, he continued to drink your arousal like a man thirsty for water. His erection throbbed at the sounds of him devouring you; slurping, sucking, lapping and moaning like a madman.

“Ar-- thur, ’m gonna… cum” you wheezed. You tried to swallow but your mouth was painfully dry. “I’m-- ahh… really close. Please, please don’t stop!”

As the pleasure was starting to become painful, your first instinct was to close your legs, even if Arthur was still between them. Feeling your thighs closing in on Arthur’s face caused him to moan, the vibrations being the final strike in making you cum.

All at once, your body was hit with the force of a powerful orgasm. Goosebumps extend up from one arm and across your chest, making your nipples even harder, then down the other arm; starting at the base of your neck gliding to the bottom of your spine and up your tightening abdomen, and finally, coursing through your legs, making your toes unfurl. You felt your head fog up with a misty cloud of joy and desire. Your sex pulsed, your arousal like a flowing waterfall, cascading water into Arthur’s awaiting lips, him swallowing everything with utmost desperation and gratitude. Softly removing himself from you with a small pop to prevent any overstimulation. He started licking up anything that fell from his mouth, then left a few delicate kisses onto your left inner thigh, his little ‘thank you’.

Regaining your composure, you peered down at Arthur, him resting his weary head on your thigh and gazing up at you with a hint of a smile. You put your dominant hand back onto his head, petting and fixing any misplaced hairs back onto his scalp.

“Very good, Arthur.” You caressed his cheekbone with your thumb, using your other fingers to scratch against the side of his head. “For your dedication, I will reward you. But.. you’ll have to earn it.” 

Pinching his chin, you force his head up. “I’m going to bring you to the peak of ecstasy three times,” - you hold up the same number of fingers - “But, you’re not allowed to release until I tell you.”

He became distressed: eyes darting between yours, eyebrows creasing, his smile turning into a frown. As much as it pained him to wait longer, if it meant he can unload inside you, he’ll be patient. Just this once.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes I do,” he answers.

You hum in approval. “Lay your ass on this bed, Big Boy.”

If there really was a god, Arthur thanked it for blessing him with your presence in his life. He was able to last until the third round, almost losing his composure on the second. His head was spinning in a heavy fog of desire, whining with every exhale, merely seconds away from tapping out. His body was beginning to tire out because of the way he tensed his muscles trying to stop himself from cumming too soon, his shoulders and biceps burning as he held his tied hands over his face.

“Look at you, my love,” you say, running your hands over his pecs, teasing his nipple between your fingertips. He let out another whine as he bit his lower lip, wondering how much longer he must endure this.

What a sight he was to behold: his arms flexing above his head, elbows pressed together to hide his expressions from your sinful stare; his face, neck, ears, and collarbone blushing a vibrant shade of red; his lips swollen from the rough way you kissed him when he got too loud; his chest rising with every inhale, his stomach pushing out with every exhale; his cock - wet with your spit and his precum - stood at your command, much to your surprise, figuring at this point he’d have gone soft, but grateful he hasn’t; his legs were extended, feet firmly planted on the cot, quivering beside your hips, his knees bumping slightly against your waist. 

Starting at his ankles, you caressed your palms up the back of his calves, then slowly brought them down his thighs. He tensed upon feeling your fingers brush against his V-lines.

“You’re almost done, I promise.” Squishing the flesh of his hips, you raise your dominant hand a good distance away before delivering a harsh slap to Arthur’s ass. Both of you moan in sync, his speaks of pain, yours speaks of adoration. 

“Oh, how I love to worship you like this!” Bringing your head lower, you kiss the inside of his right knee. “You are my favorite thing to walk among this Earth,” you say, proceeding to move your lips further down his leg.

Giving one final kiss to his heavy balls and another to his perineum, his body jolting with each one.

“Tell you what. Since you’ve been good thus far,” he parts his elbows to look at you clearly, “I’ll let you cum inside me now, okay?”

Arthur sighs in relief. “OH! Oh…th- thank you, oh my god--”

“Don’t thank me jus' yet, Pretty Boy.” Leaning forward, you grab the rosary and untie his wrists, bunching it together and haphazardly throw it over your shoulder to where you think your nun costume went, wishing to preserve it for future use.

He laid there in shock, not knowing what to do now that you released him. Moving his arms down from the uncomfortable position, he rolled his shoulders to relieve the ache before settling his arms at his sides. You smack the side of his right thigh, gaining his attention.

“How ‘bout it cowboy? You want me to ride you… or do you wanna take the reigns and fuck the demon out of me?” You grip his shaking knees, holding them in place to stare at his leaking cock, then bring your eyes back up to look at him.

“Tell me your desires, Father Morgan.”

Dumbfounded, he asked, “I… I get to decide?”

How cute, I left him speechless. You exhaled a laugh, caressing the top of his thighs, “Yes, my love. Ravish me with your cock, I need it. Fuck me Father Morgan, I beg of you!”

Collecting his bearings and gaining newfound energy, Arthur pounced. He startled you with how quick he shot up, his strong arms opened wide to show his impressive wingspan. In an instant, he caged you in his grasp, lips embracing in a fiery kiss. When you gasped for air, he stuck his tongue inside, wishing to push his love further into your mouth. The sounds of both your moans, cries and whimpers created a symphony, the song of worship.

He brought a hand to the back of your head, protecting it as he shifted your bodies, and you instinctively enveloped his torso between your legs. Wrapping his other arm around your waist, he lifted you with ease to place your back against the cot as cautiously as he could, kissing the middle of your collarbone before lifting himself off you. He felt like the luckiest man on this planet, an angel in the flesh! His precious angel, his soul, his world.

There you rested, arms thrown beside you, showing Arthur you were surrendering yourself to him.

Arthur kept staring at you beneath him, his hands on either side of your head, taking his time to adore every single beautiful feature on your face. 

The way your lashes curtained over your eyes, the curve of your delicate nose, your luscious lips so warm and inviting, your cheeks painted with your years of life - freckles, dimples, beauty marks, oh my!

He felt your legs move along his ribs, briefly taking him out of his thoughts, seeing the way you cocked an eyebrow at him in confusion - the demon was growing impatient. And so was he. Hooking his elbows beneath your knees, he forcefully pushed your legs to your chest leaving your feet dangling in the air near his shoulders; the perfect position for him to see your warm, wet, inviting hole. Oh, he was going to ruin you.

He lifted his right hand to his mouth, sticking his ring and middle finger inside to coat them with as much spit as he could. Satisfied with the amount, he took them out and abruptly pressed them to your entrance. With a bit of resistance from the insertion, you moaned as he was able to insert his fingers with ease the rest of the way in.

“So needy,” he groaned.

“Only for you, Big Boy,” you said.

He moaned as you squeezed his fingers, “Don’t go saying that, darlin’.”

“Well why not? It’s true. You drive me wild, Father Morgan.”

“No more of that! I only wanna hear you scream my name by the end of this. I ain’t no saint, and you sure as hell ain’t one too,” he answered briskly, curling his fingers on your soft walls. You cried at the sudden wave of pleasure, driving your heels into his shoulders.

“OOH~ I will, I will, I swear! Jus'… please, Arthur, just fuck me!” you begged, heat starting to flood your face.

Swiftly removing his fingers, he prodded your entrance with his tip, running it up and down, slowly teasing you. He wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine, however, his plan backfired when he pressed too far in and the head of his cock breached inside. The feel of finally getting what he wanted made him almost collapse on top of you. He shivered and gripped the sheets tightly.

Collecting himself, he closed his eyes and continued to push himself deeper, lubricated by his own spit - he was gonna lose his mind! 

When he was fully sheathed inside, you squeezed his cock once, feeling his veins prod against your walls, trying to memorize everything. He whined at the sensation, tears beginning to form beneath his closed eyelids. If there was one moment he would want to relive for the rest of his life, it would be between first meeting you and this very instant.

Arthur opened his eyes, a few tears escaped to land on your cheeks, one hitting your top lip. Maintaining eye contact with him, you stick your tongue out and licked it up, the salty flavor tickling your taste buds.

“Mmmm…” you moaned.

He snapped. He slotted his right hand against your throat, using his left to grasp the meat of your thigh. Pulling out before slamming his cock back in, his balls slapping your ass lewdly.

You whined at the harsh movement, relishing in the look on Arthur’s face as he unleashed his own demon. He held a stern gaze and an angry scowl, while you held a mischievous glint and a devious smile. Two horny hellspawns, locked in a duel to see who gets to make the other cum first.

As his hips set about a hard but steady pace, Arthur moved his fingers along the side of your neck to find your pulse. He soon made contact with it, feeling the fast beat of your heart on his fingertips, he squeezed his hand with enough force to cut your airflow. Loving the way your eyes bulged for a second, feeling you swallow hard against his palm. He enjoyed letting you control him from time to time, but he’ll never get over the feeling of your body writhing from the pleasure he gives you.

He removed his hand from your neck, moving it down to one of your nipples, pinching it and rolling it for what felt like forever to you before focusing his attention on the other one.

While he was preoccupied with you perky nipples and the filthy sounds coming out of your mouth, you dropped your sight to where your bodies connected. Hypnotized by the way he fit inside you, so perfectly connected. There was no way you would be able to walk tomorrow. With nowhere else to grab, you bring your hands to the flesh between your thighs and ass, squishing it for some sense of stability.

Arthur refocused on your face, having his view be blocked by your arms. With no other choice, he hooked the free hand beneath your other knee, keeping you in place.

“Look at me,” he growled. His voice reverberated against your ears, your sex pulsed in arousal at hearing his demanding tone.

“Fucking LOOK at me, darlin’, you know I don’t like to repeat myself.” You do as you’re told, gasping for air as you sense your climax slowly approaching.

“You close, ain’tcha? Mmm, I can feel it,” he said.

Nodding, you say, “Please, Arthur! C- cum with me…! I want us to cum together!”

“Nngh!” he grunts. “You keep… squeezing me like that, I’m gonna-- FUCK! I’ll cum soon.”

“Yes, yes! Give it to me, I wanna be dripping with your semen!!” Your moans grew higher in pitch, the muscles in your thighs tightening at the feel of your orgasm rapidly approaching.

Both of you were gasping, hearts beating as one, the smell of sex permeating the air in a dense fog of filthy love.

Wanting to savor this special moment, Arthur took his hands in yours, making sure to interlock fingers before setting them on either side of your head. He pushed his body forward, your legs pressed against his chest in a painful way, ignored by the amount of pleasure building.

The pace Arthur set combined with the forced mating press allowed you to experience his cock in the most delicious way. Free to feel every vein and ridge; his cock leaking so much precum he was able to effortlessly slip in and out without issue; overall an impressive girth, giving you a satisfying stretch.

All the love you had for him was projected into your eyes, Arthur easily recognized it because he looked at you that way every single day, even in his dreams.

“I love you,” he whispered, inches away from your face.

Happy tears began to form in your eyes, a shy smile forming. “I love you more.” 

As soon as he reached down to share a kiss, your orgasms exploded simultaneously, moans harmonizing with the loud squelch between your bodies. 

Arthur removed his lips from yours, tongues connected by a line of spit. Taking his hands from yours, he lifted himself up and brought your legs to rest at his hips. He watched you get comfortable before collapsing from exhaustion, making you grunt at the force of his body weight. He kissed along your left shoulder and settled his cheek against it, proceeding to lace one hand back to yours and snaking the other arm below your body, imprisoning you with his massive frame. You sighed with content, head still reeling and feeling your eyelids become heavy.

“Arthur?”

“Mmm?”

“Can you get off me?”

He lightly shook his head ‘no.’

The moonlight invaded your vision as it peered into your tent, painting the side of Arthur’s tired face, sculpting his chiseled back with cool lights and dark shadows. You watched his torso rise and fall with each deep breath, the noises of the night mixing with his huffs, the little critters chirping in the wind.

You laughed, out of breath. “Arthur?”

“...mmm?”

“I love you,” you whisper against his temple, placing a soft kiss on his heated skin, the taste of his sweat invading your lips.

“...’ove you… mo’...” he sighed. With the sound of your heart beating in his ear, the rhythm of your breathing matching his, Arthur succumbed to sleep.

Nothing but silence is heard for the next three minutes, until Arthur's soft snores fill the air. Lost in thought, you began to brush his hair with your right hand, the soft locks flowing between each finger. You tried your best to pepper as many kisses to his face as you could, but you weren't able to reach much, only his temple and forehead.

A thought crossed your mind, and you glanced at the chest placed at the foot of your bed. Inside, there was a pistol you owned long before you joined the gang, gifted to you by your great aunt before she passed away. You were the closest thing she considered a child - since either she was unable to carry or simply chose not to have any, you didn’t know - so she told you to give the pistol to the person you intended to marry, in place of a ring. At that time, you thought it silly since you believed in the magic of a ring, that soon changed when you met Arthur.

Having now been in the gang for a few years, you knew most of his past as he gave you little information at his own time. The days dragged on and you soon found yourself falling in love with the cowboy, going on missions together more often, inside jokes and food shared between each other. Until one mission separated the two of you, pulling Arthur to find a random target or whatever, you weren't given much information, which made worrying for his return even worse. A week prior to his return, Arthur had sent you a three-page letter reminiscing of your friendship, how worn out he was, and a shared moment you both had where you almost kissed at the river, having been interrupted by Uncle and his problems. At the very end he proclaimed his love for you, rereading it over and over again with tears in your eyes, the same letter tucked in the holster of the gun. The moment you spotted his figure in the distance walking beside his horse, you took off running and met him halfway, colliding with him in a hug stronger than a python. Thankfully he was unharmed - apart from you knocking the wind out of him - so you had no issues smooching his whole face, pulling apart for a second to tell him that you loved him too, and finishing with a passionate kiss to his lips, finally becoming a couple.

With each passing day since then, you wondered if there will ever be a chance to ask him! Ask him to be your spouse, your lover for the rest of your lives. As long as it was by his side, you didn't care where you'll end up. Closing your eyes, you dreamt of this new life, praying he'll say yes, hoping you'll be able to live a calm life far from the one you were living.

Unbeknownst to you, Arthur smiled against your skin, thinking about the ring he has tucked away in his own chest, dreaming of the same future.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #arthur morgan priest #arthur morgan sub #arthur morgan dom #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfiction

[river-summer]

Top is still trash.

This episode was like an attempt of a redemption arc for top but he cheated. I think you can’t hold someone’s hair when they vomit or do that whole cleaning up a drunk person scene and some how we are meant to believe that if this person does these things they are not going to cheat again in the future. Most cheaters can do the most loving things/ care for you and still cheat.

Which is why writers shud be careful with the cheating storyline.

I don’t think top should have even hugged Mew in that bed whilst he was unconscious. It’s creepy.

Also, the whole police coming over cos of the noise complaint, are we sure Top didn’t call the police?? They had a party last time and no police where called… Also Cheum or whatever her name is running to top for help like he is now the saviour of everyone and somehow top has this envelope full of cash when I would imagine most rich people don’t even carry cash with them….hmm

All of these little redemption arcs don’t cancel out cheating. I think the trust is gone and they will probably end up together but they will always be that part in the back of Mew’s mind that Top might be cheating again.

Mew Mew Mew, I just remember the beginning of the series and he was like I’m going to make Top wait and again a cheater can wait, can do all these romantic stuff until he gets what he wants. In the meantime Mew fell hard and he has gotten his heart broken for the first time. And he wants to forget/ is basically self sabotaging himself.

With heartbreak you still think and have fond memories of the person who broke ur heart. But ur still pissed/ angry at that person and want to hurt them i.e using Ray and that whole kiss.

Drinking at uni, a lot of uni students drink its part of the culture. Partying and drinking even everyday it happens, smoking, people try smoking, it’s not the end of the world. Drugs are a big Nono.

Mew is deffo going through it but I hope he finds himself and I would love it if he ends up with some one else but I predict Top will be like a parasite that will block anyone from talking to Mew and so their relationship is gonna get boring again.

Ray is a mess, his friends knew this before and what did they do? Ray is kinda the bad guy this episode and I’ve just realised the joker outfit is very fitting. Good on Sand for standing up for himself and not being a second choice.

I would love to see a conversation between Ray and Boston. They were friends and I would love to see them making up. Boston apart from his messiness and being a hoe seems chill (even tho he caused all this lol)

I love Boston, I don’t know who my fave character is, is it Ray or Boston.

Boston is a messy queen and but he is a confident messy queen. Like the thing with him and Nick is Nick still wants Boston, is ready to forgive anything he does.

Boston on the other hand has a boundary which is someone recording him during you know what without his consent and if you break that you are done to him. This is something Nick did. I remember people going awe poor Nick but he wiretapped his car and secretly recorded him. That’s creepy and an invasion of Boston’s privacy.

It will be interesting to see what will happen with this new guy, the little brother of the girl. I don’t trust him only because every single role I have seen this actor play has been horrid. Maybe he will be so horrible to Boston and ruin Boston’s father career that Boston will return to Nick who also has a new love interest daddy Dan Lmaoo I cannot.

Let’s see what happens next episode.

#only friends the series #only friends #I had to rant somewhere lol #rambles

[consul-valerius]

Tell Me How it Felt (it felt the same for me, too)

In which mama and son share a joint and the same, morbid story, starting with the simple question: Can you remember how you died?

Rating: T for a good ol smoke sesh and discussions of death & dying

Characters involved/mentioned: Donna & Damien; mentions of Valerius, Valdemar, and a brief discussion of Lucio

Words count: ~2760

Content warnings for: casual drug use, descriptions of insects and body horror (in the context of the plague), implied abuse, discussions of sickness/the plague, discussions of death, general references to past kidnapping (this is Damien’s go-to warning lol)

A/N: I apparently had this finished for AGES and just never posted ? LMAOO but some good old morbid family bonding times lmao or when Damien realizes that time is a circle, and Valdemar may not be all they seek to be lol very dialog heavy and more of a character study

Damien held his breath, swallowing down a gasp. No matter how often it happened, his mama always surprised him at these late hours. He was always so sure that if he waited just enough, his late-night walks would go unnoticed. But no, no matter how late the evening grew, he was sure to find his mama sitting out on the veranda, a joint wilting away in their small hand.

The first time had been awkward; Damien hadn’t known what it was, the smell foreign and nauseating. Donna had fumbled to explain themself, to justify that it wasn’t tobacco, that it was better than that if he could believe it. He knew how much his father hated cigarettes—which never stopped Damien from smoking them, but the idea of his mama smoking them was initially alarming. Damien's logical conclusion was to ask for a hit if it was so much better, his curiosity buzzing inside his gut.

It was difficult for Donna to tell him no—standing before them was a young man, older than they had been when they had started smoking. He wasn’t their baby boy any longer; how could they say no? There was plenty to share, like that could ever be an excuse. Better he does it with them and not one of those snotty rich kids. They would probably give him something laced, the sickos.

That was the beginning of it; be it morning or night, they would pass a joint back and forth, mostly sitting in silence or humming or weaving stories together. Some real, some fantasy, most a mixture of the two.

“You got enough for a second person?”

“For you, mi vida? Always.”

Donna was always prepared; once Damien finished the rest of what Donna was smoking, they were already beginning to roll another. They had tried countless times to teach Damien. Every time ended the same: they suggested he marry someone who could roll for him whenever he wanted. Still, he watched them closely, his eyes wide as they worked. They didn’t mind this; by now, they were used to his staring. It was a new habit, one that typically put off others. But never Donna.

“Does father ever do it?”

“Do what? Roll? Gods no. He can’t even pack me a bowl!” Donna snorted, their laughter a bit wheezy. It made Damien smile. “He prefers edibles anyway. He can make a mean pot brownie—you can barely taste it.”

“Gods, it’s been so long since I’ve had papa’s desserts…”

“We’ll make some tomorrow! It’ll make him happy if you ask him. Did I ever tell you the story?”

“Of how he won over Titi Dominique by making her flan?”

“Yes! We thought he’d win her over with sangria, but it was the flan that did it. She said it was almost as good as my abuelo’s. Almost. I’d never tasted it, but can you picture that? Your old man beating out someone who grew up making it?”

“No wonder he liked making it. Must have given him a big head.”

“Huge. But he earned it.”

“That time anyway.”

The two giggled at that as Donna passed Damien the joint. Damien raised his eyebrows, frowning.

“You rolled it, mama.”

“I smoked more than you. Go, it’s for you.”

Damien smiled, his chest swelling. I love you. He had never realized how much his mama said without saying it. And so clearly too; nothing ever felt like a secret. Most times he had to consult some higher power to figure out what his father was saying sometimes, what he actually meant. But, and Damien could admit this, he was almost the exact same way. Glancing up at Donna, he summoned a flame to his fingertips. They smiled and shut their eyes, reclining into the padded bench.

Are you my mother? Am I really yours?

“Mama?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you remember how you died?”

Damien almost immediately regretted the question. He winced as if he was hurt, his hands shooting up to pull the roots of his hair. Donna’s eyes were wide open, though their lips were a tight line. In the low light of the moon, Damien could see the raised scars along their mouth and cheek. Three gashes. One more trailed to their neck. He had grown up looking at them, it was never out of place. But he knew his father had known them before it. Had seen their face before they were his mama. Before everything.

“I… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying, it’s late I—“

“It’s only a little morbid.” Donna tried to laugh as they ran their hand over their face. “But I think we’re both a little morbid. You gotta be, I think. In this family anyway.”

“You really don’t need to answer. I was just talking. I’ll be quiet!”

“No, no, no,” Donna sighed, bending forward to place their arms on their knees. “You’re your father’s son. You can talk to me, Damien. And you can ask me things.”

“I don’t have to ask everything.”

“Do you remember what your Titi Dominique said when you were little? Of course, you probably don’t. That’s okay, I can’t remember half of the things she said to me when I was little.”

Damien held his breath as Donna softly grabbed both of his hands. He was pulling his hair. Hard, he finally registered. They guided his hands to begin twiddling the ends of his hair instead. He repeated the motion without thinking as he focused his gaze on his lap. He didn’t need to see it to know his mama was smiling. They did this with him ever since he was little—that he remembered.

Remembered clearly.

“Well, anyway, the point is she was always saying how much she loved your questions. All the time, she would have the whole inn roaring in laughter as she listed off all the things you asked her that day.”

“They were laughing at me?”

“Oh, they loved you! They thought you were the smartest little guy around! They loved how brutal you were. So to the point. They thought you were the best kid—and they were right, you know.”

Damien sat in silence, a small smile tugging on his lips. Donna smirked before reclining back into their seat.

“All of that to say that you can ask me things. Anything. Even the gross stuff. Like what’s the best lube to use for anal.”

“Mama!“

“But I can’t really remember what it felt like to die, no. Or how exactly it happened,” they finally continued, silencing Damien swiftly. “I don’t have a lot of memories of the plague. Might be the magic, might just be… it sucks to die. Especially like that. But that entire time was just… death, death, death. Everyone felt like they were dying—if not now, then soon.”

“Papa said there wasn’t enough room for the bodies. Is that… is that true?”

“It is. I remember how much we tried to make up for it. But nothing was the same, nothing would ever be good enough. The lazaret was the last choice, but we had to. You’ve talked to your father about this?”

“Only… only one time. He got a little… a little wonky.”

“It was a dark time for him. For all of us, but… but especially him.”

“He lost you. That’s when he got wonky… talking about you.”

“He lost more than just me,” Donna inhaled sharply, shutting their eyes again. Damien reached out and held their hand. They ran their thumb over his the charred top of his hand; they didn't react at all to the rough texture. “Your father… loves this city. In some ways it’s like his first child—shit, that is totally not something I should be saying to you—"

“No, no, like… I know. Comes with being the former consul’s son and all.”

“So you understand! Even before he lost me, he was losing his people. No one knew when the plague would end—if it would ever end. Entire families were dying together. A whole generation gone. Just here one day, gone another. And your father could do nothing—even Nadia, if you can imagine it, could do nothing.”

“It’s hard to picture that… that she couldn’t just like… will the plague to end with her sheer mental fortitude.”

“I think she hates that too—that she couldn’t do the impossible. And it was impossible. It didn’t matter what we did—the plague wouldn’t stop, even if we moved people to better, safer places. Even if we put a physician in every home. It wouldn’t have ended. Not with… him there.”

Damien took a long drag from the joint next. He refused to acknowledge the chill running up his spine, so much like a finger tickling him. He felt eyes burning into him, somewhere hidden, far away. Always far away.

“You don’t… you weren’t there when it happened, right?”

“What?”

“The masquerade… when… you know—“

“No. I had died before that. It’s funny, in some ways the masquerade feels like some fucked up fairy tale I was told as a kid. But it wasn’t that. And I wasn’t a kid either.”

“It’s more like a scary story for me. Like a… what’s the word? Like it’s teaching you a less—“

“Cautionary tale! Like a cautionary tale.”

“Yes! Any time you guys mention… the old count, you get that way. He’s like the bogeyman.”

“He was the bogeyman. Or he wanted people to think so anyway. Really he was a massive loser, but he was a loser with a body count. So that makes him dangerous.”

Damien swallowed, ignoring what he thought sounded like stomping feet. Like a child having a tantrum. He could only stare at the scars on his mama’s face.

“But… shit, where were we?”

“Dying…?”

“Dying! Yes. I… I really don’t remember much of it. I vaguely remember getting sick. Or at least what made me sick—this is a bit graphic. Are you sure you want to hear?”

“Yes. If I don’t I’ll… I’ll interrupt you.”

“Perfect.” Donna took another deep breath, grounding themself. Damien leaned closer, dread and excitement eating away at him. “I’ve told you already I was the head physician's assistant. We had worked together before in the palace—they were the quaestor proper, but medicine was really where their interests were.” Damien felt his blood run cold; he couldn’t read Donna’s face, their eyes far away. He suddenly felt jittery and itchy. “Or maybe not medicine. I thought it was medicine, but really it was just…” They paused, swallowing. Damien could have sworn he heard a giggle—a real giggle—and had to stop himself from gasping. “Dying. They were very interested in people dying. How it happened, what it looked like, all that shit. That meant they were very hands-on with the patients—I’ll spare you those details. Just know that I was always at their side, recording anything and everything they told me to.

It started out with just writing down their weird little rambling, then it got more… hands-on. Helping them jar specimens. Helping them prepare a body. I never questioned any of it, not after the first week. I was just so… so lost.”

I know how you feel—I felt like that with them too.

“I was still reeling from being banished—my face hadn’t even healed properly. And it was a lot of dying people all the time—it never stopped. You just… grew numb to it. That’s what makes me the most upset, I think. That I didn’t remain upset by everything, that it no longer scared me. I just… let things happen to me.”

Donna paused to rub Damien’s shoulder; he had started to tremble. He clung to their hand.

“I should stop—“

“No! No… please, you’re the only one who talks to me like… like a person. Like I’m an adult.”

Donna frowned at that; it was clear they wanted to address it, wanted to refute it. Instead, they took another long hit before continuing.

“That’s why I don’t even remember when I got sick. It just was a thing that happened to me after a lot of things had already happened to me. I remember we were examining a blister or something like that—it was ginormous and weird and… I think one of the beetles had kind of… burrowed into their skin? Something gross like that. And then. Well. That was it. It was on me and it must have bit me. The rest is truly a blur: I was okay, and then I wasn’t, and then I was taken to the lazaret and—“

“You were still alive? When you went to… when they took you? I thought just the bodies went. So they could be taken care of. Not real people...”

“I would have gotten people sick, Dami. They… they couldn’t keep me there—“

“But all the other patients stayed? Why send you then when you were alive?”

Donna’s brows knit together; it felt like Damien was shouting at someone, someone else entirely. Accusing a person who wasn’t there. Was there?

“I don’t… I don’t know. That’s just how it happened. I was so sick, I didn’t… I don’t remember anything of the island just the boat ride and then… I died there.”

“But dad? You must have been able to say goodbye. He must have… they must have—“

“No. He… I would have made him sick, Damien. Valdemar, they…”

Donna’s voice broke, finally. It was just like speaking with his father: everything was factual, to the point, until either one had to speak of the other. It was too painful for the couple to think of, to think of one without the other, to think of never being able to say goodbye. But it had happened, the memory like a scar deep inside one another. Unseen but felt.

I know. That’s how I felt too when they made me leave without saying goodbye.

“We can stop, mama. That’s… we can stop. I'm sorry I got upset--”

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t as cool of an answer as I thought it would be. I can make one up? Or you make one up?”

“You’re asking your only child to make up a story about how you died?”

“That’s… terrible when you say it out loud, yeah. I guess my maternal skills are… lacking.”

And then they were laughing. They both had the same, wheezy cackle that could shake the leaves off of trees; tears stung their eyes as both took turns hacking into their arms. Naturally, Donna’s hand landed on Damien’s back. He leaned closer to them, resting his head on their shoulder as he giggled. Donna sighed, snuggling closer to him.

“That’s… all over now, though. I mean, look! I’m here! Flesh and all! Lots of flesh. Maybe too much.”

“Flesh, flesh, flesh…” Damien murmured, a sleepy smile on his face. Donna smiled and shook their head.

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s double not a good thing to get my only son high out of his mind when we have work to do tomorrow.”

“Nah, I think that part’s fine. Every parent should do this.

“Let’s go, mi Vida. I’ll walk you.”

Linking pinkies, Donna led the pair back to Damien’s chambers. They continued whispering on the walk back, both cracking harmless jokes at one another. Once they made it to Damien’s room, he stopped them, holding both of Donna’s hands in his. They had finally registered that he was without his gloves; his charred skin rubbed against theirs, the blacks of his hands clashing with their skin.

“Are you mad, mama?”

“Not at all, my darling boy. When I say you can ask me anything, I mean it.”

Damien held their hands tighter, looking down at their feet. He looked so much like he did as a child, with the same pout and the same puffed cheeks. Despite everything, despite the years and space and grief, he was still their son.

He was still theirs.

“I… I’m glad you’re my mom. And I’m glad you’re here.” Damien swallowed, refusing to look at them. He didn’t need to see that tears were welling in Donna’s eyes, didn’t need to hear this was something they had craved hearing from him. “I love you. Good night.”

“I… I love you, too, vida,” Donna whispered before placing a flurry of kisses on Damien’s head. He snorted, finally grinning. “I’m glad you’re my son. And words can’t tell you how happy I am to have you here—that we can both be here.”

They didn’t need to see the tears welling in Damien’s eyes as he bolted to his room. Didn’t need him to say it to know he had been craving those words from them for some time. Perhaps ever since he came home.

Mother and son, both dead and rising from the grave, wishing one another good night, promising that they would see each other in the morning.

#bottom writes #the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice donna #problem child damien #the disaster family #this is also a reminder for Damien that while HES a weirdo his parent objectively has him beat with magic nonsense LMAO #in my cotemporary fiction title era #just gonna start posting really old one shots before i let them rot forever LMFAO #its lore time time for lore

[moiravim]

The Sacrifice Chapter 5

Bucky Barnes x yn

Zombie Apocalypse AU

We jog towards the smoke coming from a campsite, most likely belonging to Hydra. I look down at my hand to see it had gotten much worst.

Bucky starts to slow down as he grabs my hand. He pulls out his gun and points it at the tent, which had been shifting around. Someone was inside, and they were coming out.

When a man walks out, I look over to see Bucky's expression. He drops his gun and sprints towards the man. His eyes water as he hugs the strange person. I put together the pieces to realize it must be Steve.

I'm proved right when Bucky says "Steve! Why are you here??" To which he responds "I was helping out shield, they just recently cleared out the main Hydra base. What are you doing here?".

I awkwardly walk forwards, causing Steve's vision to shift to me. "YN- my friend.. she was bit. We need the cure. Do you know where it is, then?" Bucky spits out, rushing his sentences.

Steve skeptically nods. "Is it far out? We have a car.." Bucky adds. "Yes, that'll work," Steve responds to his best friend. Bucky smiles at me before continuing to talk to his friend as they get into the car.

I grow jealous as I see them get along so well. Bucky and I related so well until now. Now, all I want is for Natasha to be here with me. But that'll never happen.

It's not fair that Bucky gets to be with Steve. It's not fair that- "hey YN? Are you okay?" Bucky interrupts my thoughts. "Yes. Yes, I'm doing well." I say, smiling before looking down at my bite.

Red covers my wrist that has been clean of blood just the day before. "Hey. Hey! Your okay, alright? Steve says we're just a few minutes away. " He comforts me, looking into my eyes with a sincere expression.

"And after this, we can find Natasha. Everything will be alright again-" "Hey, Bucky..." I cut him off. "Yes?" He asks in a concerned tone. "Nothing, nevermind.." I respond, voice going quiet. He nods and continues talking to Steve.

Bucky was right. Only 10 minutes later we arrived at 'shield' and entered a building with eagle sketches that seemed exceptionally familiar.

"Hey, Peter!" Steve yells as a young boy runs up, shouting; "Steve, you're back! And... You must be Bucky? And... um..". "yn." I respond sharply.

"Peter, we need a cure. Can you set an appointment with Bruce for us?" Peter looks at the three of you, nervously searching for any side effects of the infected. He quickly nods before telling us; "he's not busy, come with me".

I anxiously fidget with my hands as I walk with Bucky. Bucky looks at me with sad eyes before grabbing my hand and holding it tightly. He kisses the back of my hand and keeps on walking.

I push it off as a friendly gesture, but I wonder if it had meant anything more. I'm most likely just over thinking all this. I haven't talked to anyone in almost a year now. Maybe I had forgotten some social skills.

I try to hide my smile as we arrive at shield's medical room. Peter opens the door and tells Bruce, "This is YN. They need a cure for the infection..".

He shares a small smile with me before patting the seat in front of him. I sit down and roll up my sleeve. He inspects the bite on my arm, looking at it while deep in thought. "How long has it been since you got bit? It looks pretty bad.." He asks, I respond; "yesterday, in the evening."

He pulls out a case, opening it to reveal many bottles and syringes. I cringe, looking at the needles as he prepares the cure.

He injects the liquid into my wrist before bandaging my arm. "Thank you," I state calmly. I look to see Bucky and Steve laughing with each other. I don't think I'm ready to be in a team again.. Could I leave without them noticing?

I go to exit the building when Bucky grabs my arm and smiles at me. "Time to find Natasha." He says in a determined tone. I sigh.

A/N: I'M SORRY Y'ALL, I FORGOT TO POST THIS LMAOO. Also we're finally halfway 😭😭‼️

#marvel x reader #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barns imagine

[searching-for-synpathy]

Went back to work today so thats the end of my accidental impromptu semi staycation week of Covid (tm)! Smoked a little and made brownies and binged a ton of insecure with my gf so honesyly a very very good day overall. Tomorow I think were gonna try to get out of the house and practice some driving! Im excited for that. Things are feeling good. Im feeling a little dread about going back to work on Monday (lol), but hey. What are you gonna do. Its not that i hate my job, im just scared of how fast everything is going right now. It was already last week that I was sobbing about not seeing my mom on my birthday. Wild! I havent talked to my dad in a second but i think he’s doing alright. I’ll see him in April anyway, and I do have to figure out if I’m going in May too for my youngest sib’s graduation. I should probably just bite the bullet and make the plans. I miss my family a little, but maybe it’s just that I miss people in general. I mean i love my gf so much and we have so much fun together, but its good to have other ppl too obviously. And were still just in our twenties. Its wild to think how crazy we were just a year or two ago. I wanna do weird stupid drinking nights with my gf! Just gotta find some other friends in the area to do em with. I guess this is what a lot of young adults who are scared of time passing do: create insane weekends so you can fit a ton of “living” into a couple hours on saturday night, lol. We’ll see if that really happens. i would be interested in getting into some singing, dancing, or combination of both-type activity sometime soon.

Feeling a little sad about my college time recently. I guess just wishing I’d had a little more platonic connection with people so that I could have graduated friends in the area. But im grateful for the ones I have! And I know i’m just making up some ideal of an alternate life to compare my own to. My experiences were good. I wouldnt trade anything now for all those times with lil.

Lil’s parents sent me a book as a present for my birthday, which was SO SO SWEET, but the funny thing is that the book so far sounds like it was written by an elementary schooler. Lmfao. I mean it is a book in translation about young adult/adult transitions so its a GOOD BOOK CHOICE FOR A PRESENT, its so sweet and wholesome, i love these parents, but also im cringing through this writing so oftenn 😭😭😭 lmaoo

#adrian.txt

[babyharleezy]

I used to go back and forth on them but urban just keeps on delivering 😌 so it's easy to like him more. you seen that pic he posted today right? 😵‍💫

ahhhh I don't smoke (got asthma) so I don't even have that to fall back on 😭 alcohol exists so we can get sauced together instead

i love them both equally, it’s hard for me to choose when they’re so similar yet so different at the same time. idk either one of them can get it 😭😭 and yes that picture was so cute to me 🥹

now i rarely smoke/drink, i too also have asthma lmaoo

#anonymous

[midnightmisadventures]

Hi everyone im on tour

Did somebody say new beginning? lmaooo

Im so lucky and blessed. Currently staying in my own room in an airbnb in nashville with a bunch of people who want do what i do.

Its really so cool. Trying to take it all in

But alas....ive been so busy i havent been giving dream updates, and lemme tell you theyre INSANE

One i had erikka was asking me whats Liams sisters name? and i was like lmao which one. And to narrow it down, i was like hair color? and she said brown and i was like okay brings it to two. And then she explained some post??? And i was like okay okay its def *******

Last night Liam and i were in that dormy collegey white coursey dreamscape and we had like a minor minor disagreement? so small but went back and forth for a sec but stopped so it wouldnt escalate and we were in front of ppl. So then we split off and he texted me "hey can we talk" and it was like under the guise of talking about the little disagreement but i knew that, it would mean we were finally having our deep conversation. Like this is it.

So....im not sure actually but sometime after that or during, i saw him, by elevators and i wasnt wearing pants. And we were talking about where to meet, cause we wanted to be away from people and have a place to sit down and get into it. So we picked the place and we were about to go but i was like "uh can i put on pants first" and he was like yea lmaoo

So then i went to room, i even think we rode the elevator together which is ICONIC. But i remember it feeling awkward, nervous and flightly because we both knew the conversation we were gonna have. So even though we had positive feelings towards eachother we were silent. And i could barely look at him. We hadnt seen eachother for a while and it was just so intense. So we rode in silence till i got to my floor and went to my room.

Then in my room i was freaking out like HOLY SHIT ARIELLE WE DID IT. WE'RE FINALLY FUCKING DOING IT ITS HERE, ive never waited longer for something but i still didnt expect this and im so glad he finally initiated it and wooo. its here. So....i was trying to be quick? but doing much more than putting on pants, like i changed completely was doing my hair, singing lights on etc lol. But i finished and starting heading downstairs to meet him

But i remember it was like 248 in the morning but i didnt care cause watevs. So i guess i took long enough getting ready that liam was able to chicken out and he texted me "you know what, dont worry about it, we'll talk tomorrow, its late anyway, i'll have time to smoke b4 we talk and that will be better" listed a bunch of excuses and basically just said tomorrow

And i was like nooooooooooo. pls no plsssss, i dont remember if i sent it but i drafted a text back that was like "no liam please can we do it tonight, im already downstairs, and i feel we've been waiting to talk forever can we just do it tonight"

like my heart was shattered. But then i remember being like....it is late. And whats just one more day, its tomorrow for sure, i can wait one more day

Meanwhile the next day i dont hear from him, i keep checking my phone and i was just like :(

Thats it, but isnt that crazy symbolic. That must be exactly whats going on right now. He keeps psyching himself up then backing out last minute

[honeycombstrawberry]

aaaa omgomg okok this is the 🍃 anon hehe i guess i just wanted to get someone else’s thoughts on adrian/vigilante with a reader who is a 🍃 dealer lmaoo but like strictly just a 🍃 dealer like she makes cute little edibles and packages everything so nice and pretty (shoutout to all the lady dealers out there) plus, i’m a sucker for unlikely relationships or like an opposites attract kind of thing especially cause i mean TECHNICALLY whacky tobacky is legal?? idk sorry if i’m being dumb aaa

you are absolutely not being a dumbass this is so cute i'm obsessed with this i want to do a little thread about it!!!!

adrian with a partner who's a dealer!!

as we know when 🍃 was illegal it was his duty as vigilante to kill people who partook which is absolutely unhinged but he doesn't see it that way so we're just gonna glide past that right into the thread

so now that 🍃 is legal adrian's rewired his moral compass about it but he still hasn't tried anything. old habits die hard and he also doesn't really know what he's doing so it's just easier to not bother so he never does

chris offers and john offers and memorably once emilia offers but he has not partaken before. not before he makes a new friend

he finds out that chris gets his 🍃 from somebody in town who owns a little store so he gets curious. just to see if it's somebody he maybe remembers roughing up when he was vigilante before everything got legalized

he's surprised to find it's not only somebody he's never seen in evergreen before but an actual frankly fucking beautiful person with an awesome shop that makes everything themselves

like you grow everything yourself. you have your own grow space and you make your own edibles and you roll your own prerolls. you package everything in packaging you designed yourself. a local glassblower sells pipes and stuff in your shop. like you're fully committed to the local dealer vibe and the place is so dope

this is absolutely not what adrian understood all of this to be about so he ends up asking you questions and the two of you actually spend a fair amount of time together that afternoon while you explain everything to him, and it's endearing how fascinated he is and how many questions he asks

adrian comes back multiple times. like over and over he returns to you and asks questions about the shop-- but then he's also asking questions about you, and you're asking questions about him, and then you're just getting to know each other

and then eventually you ask, since he's always asking questions, why doesn't he just want to try, maybe? and he thinks like, if anyone should be the one to show him, you'd probably be a good person for that to be. and this is when he finally decides that maybe this is worth a try and he says he'll try it with you

as it turns out adrian deeply vibes when he gets to enjoy 🍃. like it goes a long way to calming him down and letting him vibe for a second without freaking out. he enjoys his experience and a lot of it has to do with you-- how you select a strain carefully for him, how you guide him through it, how you help him with it

it becomes something you do together, and you introduce him to different strains and ways to take it, and he tries anything you'll offer to him. he just loves being with you and enjoys everything you've given him so far

eventually he asks maybe with a little help with a pipe and you shotgun smoke into his mouth and your lips brush and then you're kissing. and he apologizes but there's nothing to apologize for, and then the two of you are just kissing

he ends up reevaluating a lot of his moral code after that, since he's in love with somebody he would've beat the shit out of a few years' ago without hesitating, but he doesn't end up changing his mind about most things. he's still a lunatic and a maniac at the best of times

he does, however, fully fall in love with you and realize he enjoys 🍃 and there's a lot of merit to trying new things!! which is a lovely little lesson to take away from all this, if not the exactly correct one

i know this was silly but i had a lot of fun with it!!!! now time to partake myself i think!!!!!!!

-

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @pieriinova @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25

#🍃 anon #weed anon #anonymous #answered #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase headcanons #honeycombheadcanons #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #vigilante #peacemaker imagines #peacemaker imagine #peacemaker tv #peacemaker #dcu #dceu #dc #dc comics #honeycombstrawberry

[stopeatingwhales]

the 1995 brits (pt. 2) x damon albarn & liam gallagher

ok this has nothing to do with the brits bc now its about glastonbury 1995 i just didn't know whether i should rename it lmaoo okay enjoy x

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn & liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.495

part one

༉‧₊˚✧

The Glastonbury festival was always one of the best gatherings for music every year. All the best acts in the music would all be invited to perform, and it was amazing. It formed a unity, a connection between the fans and the artists, the creators and the consumers, morphing an atmosphere which only gentrified the solidarity and wholeness the nation felt when they all held adoration to the same album, same songs, singing the choruses from their hearts, with their whole being. It was a spiritual connection with the audience; you weren’t singing to them, you were singing with them. Nothing got as good as Glastonbury - a concert size any larger you would begin to feel detached with the audience - and boy was it a good feeling to be invited this year. Our band had blown up massively, and to be able to perform on the main stage, celebrating the summer and the true joys that music is able to provide and attain, is more than just doing your part. It’s a humbling experience; the lyrics that may have seemingly been written down as a daft thought on the back of a napkin whilst you were sitting having a coffee, relaxing in the tedious cycle that is life, being chanted back to you, shows the true connection those can have with simple melodies and lyrics. Once it’s released in any format, the music, the lyrics, the melodies, they aren’t yours; just as a book, once released, is not the authors’ anymore. It possesses the ownership of the public, that who purchases it, wears it out, listens to the songs back to back to memorise every single lyric and adlib. The songs become the nation's songs, they become the mere link to a dozen memories of each and every person, which they would take to their grave, remembering the good times, and potentially the bad. The true power of music is that it forms a connection - not just with the artist, but with yourself. You can relate to whatever has been said, you can understand yourself just that bit more which allows you to grow as a person, and mature and better into the person that you were set out to be.

I was standing backstage, currently watching the performance lead by Blur, trying to hide from any form of authority who would know that I wasn’t supposed to be back here yet. My band was on in a few hours, so I wasn’t permitted backstage, the only people allowed being the group that was on next. As I admired the performance being put on by Damon and the rest of the band, mumbling lyrics every now and again of songs that I had known from their albums, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist, the grip of the person’s palm squeezing my hip slightly. “Now how come I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while?” said Liam, who was grinning at me widely.

Since the Brit awards, I forced myself to stop partying as much as I used to, due to the addiction that had been stemming from my consistent use of drugs and alcohol. It began to take its toll on me entirely, and I hated the lifestyle that I had started to inhabit. Sex, booze, drugs... they all seem so wonderful, and seem to be fundamental elements that could provide an enjoyable time, don't they? But with repetitive use of such recreational activities, it would not only initiate the worst hangovers, but would also form a pit of longing in the body, endured with your attempt to fill it up with all the illegal pharmaceuticals to make you feel whole again, but of course, the happiness only lasts for a short while before you’re passed out on a couch, waking up at 5 in the afternoon with a raging headache and the only access to pain medication being a five minute walk to the nearest corner shop because you had finished it all. And to your surprise, the pit only got more deep and paining. It was ironic; the drugs designed for jubilation, euphoria, fulfillment, started to make me feel worse than I had already done previously. “I’ve just been caught up with working on the new album, so I’ve been too focused on that to be going out like I used to,” I replied, a grin masked over my lips. It was far from a lie; my band were currently working on our third album, and it had been quite an interesting experience as we were reinventing our sound, though wasn’t the main reason I had avoided all clubs in sight. “You miss me?”

“Course I do, you’re the only girl I know that’ll go as hard as the rest of the lads,” a frown painted over his face as he looked down on me. “It’s hot, y’know.”

I scoffed, my smile still evident on my face. “Oh Liam, you’re going to make me blush!” I joked, placing my arm around his waist. We both carried on watching the performance being led by Damon, who currently had the crowd screaming over the top of their heads at Girls and Boys. Oasis were on after - even these concerts were chipping in on the mess of their feud. “You nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Never.” Liam replied, snarling at my question.

“Really?” I asked, diverting my stare to look up at Liam, my eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner. Even though it wasn’t evident from his facial expression, everybody would be nervous. Especially if you were performing on the main stage in a few minutes.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.” He mumbled, staring at Damon with a look of disgust on his face.

“Knew it,” I grinned, allowing my hand to run up and down his back as a form of comfort to soothe his nerves. The tight grip he kept consistent on my waist proved that he felt tense. “You’ll be amazing, you always are.”

“You hitting on me?” he quickly fired back, cocking his head to the side as he admired me, his gaze flicking to my lips every now and again.

“Of course I am.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at Liam’s child-like characteristics. By now Blur had finished their set, leaving the crowd screaming and waving things in the air as a form of goodbye. Me and Liam stayed put in our place as the four boys waltzed off the stage, me congratulating them as they walked off one by one. Damon was the last to walk off, and as he began strolling off the stage proudly, our eyes connected, causing me to dart my stare away from his robust glare that had reflected off of his orbs. Knowing of his distaste in Liam, I brushed it off immediately, remembering the pettiness of their argument the last time we had all been together at the Brits. I heard Liam utter some profanity under his breath after Damon walked past us, but I chose not to question him on it, full-well knowing it was either wanker or cunt.

When the rest of the band turned up and Oasis were on cue to go on, Liam quickly detached himself from our embrace, pressing his lips to my cheek, grinning at me widely. “Don’t miss me too much!” he shouted as he walked onto the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into a fit from the mere sight of the band getting themselves ready - Liam just standing there cooly, picking up the tambourine left on the floor for him. I marvelled at the band as they began their set, instantly grinning as soon as Liam began singing the lyrics to Rock n Roll star. Let’s hope he’s not walking off stage this time.

I continued to concentrate on their performance, oftentimes laughing as the crowd progressively got more and more rowdy, screaming the lyrics as Liam sang them, as if Noel’s backing vocals weren’t enough to keep the song going to its full potential. “I wonder when you’re going to realise that you like me.” I heard a voice mutter from behind, causing me to abruptly turn my head, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes were greeted with the sight of Damon, a small smirk illustrated on his lips as he glued his eyes on mine - just like he had done before when he walked past me and Liam.

“I’m sorry?” I scoffed, raising my eyebrows at his clearly egotistical assumption, though I couldn’t help but resist a smile to contract on my cheeks as I gazed at him. Much like me and Liam, we also hadn’t spoken since the Brit awards, and it would’ve been a lie if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him again. Despite the fact that there was a certain tension between us that, from each meeting, seemed to intensify, and was something we were both clearly aware of, I ignored it entirely - even if my bandmates had teased me religiously every time they saw me have an encounter with him. Go out with him already! You two are constantly flirting!

Moving away from where I was standing, I made my way over to him to be able to talk over the loud music seeping out of the speakers, instead of shouting at one another. We then exited the backstage area together, welcoming us to the view of a plain grassland where a couple trailers had been parked, both of our bands included. Eventually, we walked to one of the random trailers, assuming it was his one, and stood against the shiny metal impediment as we shared a cigarette.

“Don’t act like it’s not true,” he replied casually, him reciprocating my grin as we began to walk further into the backstage space. “I saw the way you were eyeing me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, attempting to act oblivious towards his statement. I could feel him gawking, focused on me as I admired the blooming sunlight that casted out towards us, the light so bright that it caused my eyes to tear up slightly. The music was still very much audible, and the screams of the many thousands jammed together in the mosh pit were still extremely loud.

“Oh, but you do.” he mumbled, causing me to shift my view to look at him. He had now fixated his stare onto the sun, the cigarette softly placed between his lips as he inhaled quickly before taking it out and allowing the built-up smoke from his lungs to escape into the atmosphere. Dropping the tobacco roll onto the ground, he placed his foot over it in order to burn it out, then turning his head to fixate his gaze onto mine. A brief moment of silence passed as we admired one another, the atmosphere carrying an element of apprehension as to what was about to occur between us. Through my peripheral I saw moving his body slightly to come closer to mine as he lifted his back off the metal surface and stood in front of me, my gaze not daring to leave him. Our eyes maintained strong eye contact as I felt my cheeks began to heat up furiously, followed by my attempt on telling myself that it was simply due to the sun’s radiance that my face held such warmth, almost as if to doubt the feelings, the tensions that had constantly piled up every time we had seen one another.

Our noses touched as our faces then became inches apart, my eyes focused on Damon, who kept darting his eyes to my lips every few seconds. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned his body forward, softly pressing his lips onto mine. We stood there for a few seconds, to allow the moment to truly sink in. His hands were gently placed on my waist as I placed them on his arms, like a form of support to allow myself to stay upright. After a while, I snaked my hands around his neck in order to deepen the kiss, the warmth of his lips colliding against mine sending shocks all around my body - the moment didn’t feel real at all. It was as if this entire time of me knowing of him, interacting with him, being in his presence, I had attempted to avoid myself catching feelings, not getting myself engraved in a situation with another musician, but due to my mind forcing such a hindrance, it became an inevitability - I caught feelings for Damon Albarn.

As we pulled away to catch our breaths, Damon leaned back, sneaking his arms around my waist as he looked down on me. “You liked that.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t wait for Liam to find out about this.” he grinned, playing with strands of my hair as I glared at him. I knew he was aware of the glare I was giving him, because he seemingly began to grin even wider.

“He won’t, because you’re not going to tell him.” I replied bluntly, placing my hands on his chest as I began to draw little circles over his shirt. It felt so surreal, yet so normal - there was a certain amenity shared between us proving that what was felt in the past was indeed real, and indeed reciprocated.

“Always knew you’d give in one day.” he mumbled, a devilish grin painted on his lips.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Even when the tabloids were convinced me and Gallagher were an item?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. I noticed him frown slightly after the question left my mouth, my lips attempting to form into a smile as I broke off his smug persona.

“Well it looks like you’ve left Liam to be with me.” he grinned, our eyes connecting once again. I took his hand away from my hair to interlace it with mine, holding it close to my chest for Damon to be able to feel my heartbeat. Even though anybody could have opened their trailer door and witnessed us in such an affectionate state, none of that seemingly mattered to either one of us. Everything that had occurred between me and Damon felt so perfect, to the point that I would want somebody to come and witness the true beauty of this moment. There was a strong feeling in my chest that I wanted him to feel, to understand, that what was occurring between us truly meant something, and wasn’t just a silly little play to mess with my feelings.

“Liam’s not that bad you know.”

“I’m just joking, love, don’t worry.” he mumbled, bringing our interlaced hands to his face to allow him to kiss the back of my hand. “You wanna go get something to eat before you head on?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” I said, forcing us to detach our bodies from our embrace and walk over to one of the food stalls, hand in hand.

#damon albarn x reader #Liam gallagher x reader #Liam gallagher #damon albarn #blur #blur band #oasis band #my writing #band imagines #fluff #nineties #90s #music