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no-144444 · 2 days ago
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farm girl- o.piastri
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summary: what's a better way to a guys attention than shouting at him for being too slow?
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! clarkson farm, farm-hand!! reader
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You weren’t the biggest fan of Jeremy’s reality show, but you enjoyed working the farm, so, as per your agreement, you wouldn’t be featured in episodes as much as possible. You were so far removed in fact, that you didn’t even know that someone else was driving the tractor when you shouted for them to ‘stop being shit’ at driving it. 
“Y/n!” Jeremy shouted. “Stop being rude!”
“What?” you scoffed. “I swear to god, if Finn doesn’t fucking speed up I’m going to-” you started, but stopped yourself when you saw none other than Oscar fucking Piastri in the driver’s seat with an embarrassed and guilty smile on his face. “Sorry,” you offered, internally cursing yourself. “Continue on!” you announced before turning back and continuing on with more of your duties. 
Oscar looked after you as you walked, an amused smile on his face. “Who’s that?”
“Y/n, one of our farmers,” Jeremy explained, a chuckle on his lips. “She’s… fiery.”
“She’s damn good at her job!” someone from off-camera chimed in, making everyone chuckle. 
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As his day went on, he caught glimpses of you. You were tending to animals, or showing someone around, or just generally being beautiful and mysterious. He was desperate to know more. He asked a million questions about you, and he was sure everyone was aware of his not-so-secret crush on you.
“You should ask her out, she likes F1,” Jeremy advised as they sat down to lunch. “You’re one of her favourite drivers.”
He still got surprised when people knew him, forgetting sometimes that he is, in fact, a public figure. “Yeah?”
Jeremy laughed. “Yeah,”  he scoffed. “Kids these days…”
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When his day of hard labour came to an end, he made it his plan to seek you out, humoring Jeremy’s theory. 
“Hi,” he smiled, standing just behind you. 
You startled, jumping up from whatever it was that you were doing and cursed. “Fucking hell! Announce yourself!” You let it slip before you could really stop yourself, but you didn’t feel all that bad, he should have announced himself. 
He laughed. “What did you think I was trying to do?!”
“Scare the shit out of me?” you scoffed. “I don’t know.”
“I’m Oscar,” he held out his hand to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”
You took his hand,shaking it quickly. “Y/n. Sorry about the whole…  tractor thing.”
“Nothing but a bruised ego,” he chuckled. “So what do you do around here?”
You shrugged. “A bit of everything, I guess.”
He nodded, and you both stood in silence for a minute. 
“Did you need something?” you questioned. “-Not to be rude, or anything, I just… I've got to get back to the rest of my stuff so… yeah.”
He smiled, enjoying the fact that you were as awkward as him. “Can I get your number?”
You stared at him for a second, then you broke out into one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. “Why?”
He stepped closer to you. “I think you’re really pretty,” he explained. “And I want to get to know you more.” 
You nodded. “Give me your phone.”
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highvern · 2 days ago
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Red Card
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader
Genre: smut/fluff, non-idol au, 80s au (aesthetics only), childhood friends to lovers
Warnings: drinking, weed use (not reader tho), skinny dipping, non-graphic injuries (sprained knee), mingyu gets a booboo and reader kisses it better, oral (m & f receiving), face sitting, penetrative sex, protected sex. all of em's biases in one fic
Length: ~12k
Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS MS @gyuswhore EVERYONE TELL HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY thank you for dealing with all my tomfoolery on a daily basis. i hope this is a nice treat after the trenches of academia. thank you @haologram and @tomodachiii for beta reading!
Summary: Mingyu's been there through everything. From childhood to now. What happens when he gets hurt and someone else has to step in and play the hero?
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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You’re going to kill your roommate.
Maybe not this second, when you’re still waking up and the sun has barely started to filter through the blinds and the alarm clock is blaring in your ear. It’s difficult to strangle someone when he’s smothering you with his entire body weight, completely unaware of the fact you can’t breathe because of it.  There's heat and then there's sweating out of your skin because your roommate doesn’t understand ‘what’s mine is yours’ only extends to the food in the fridge.
You’ll strangle Mingyu one day, but right now you’re late for work. 
“Get off!” you fume, pushing at his shoulder with all your strength. 
Mingyu smacks his lips sleepily and burrows further into your neck. You pinch his nipple between your finger and twist.
“Ow! What the fuck?” he screams, shuffling off you and into the wall, eyes wild and clutching his chest like a scandalized old woman
Rolling off the mattress, you navigate the dark of your room looking for your work clothes. “How many times have I told you not to sleep in here?”
“My room is so hot!” Mingyu whines, digging his face into the pillow.
“Yeah, well now my room is too.” You find the floral green and pink dress of your Pier Club uniform. Facing away from Mingyu, you swiftly change into it and look for the matching skirt. It’s offensive, even in the dim predawn. “Do you have work today?”
Mingyu stuffs himself further beneath the blankets, only the very center of his face visible. “Yeah. Covering for JJ.”
“Get up then. We’re gonna be late.”
Mingyu scrambles to his room to get dressed. The bathroom is wedged between his room and Soonyoung's, so you hear a thud, and a curse followed by another louder thud and a grunt of pain. He joins you in the bathroom, dressed in his uniform: pink polo, white pants, and white golf shoes. Like an incredibly tall and sleepy flamingo.
Two people becomes four in a blink, each of you reaching over and under for whatever is needed from the small shelf in the mirror. Your elbow meets Dokyeom’s eye, and someone steps on your foot. 
Soonyoung is pouring coffee into a mug in the kitchen, foot tapping against the linoleum while Dokyeom rushes around trying to find his pants. You’ve lived like this for two years. It doesn’t even phase you.
“If you’re not in the truck in five you’re walking!” Mingyu calls and disappears.
One by one you file out. You detour for the kitchen. The toaster takes two minutes and the coffee pot four but you’re still faster than the other two and get an actual seat in the cab of the truck. There's really no decent way to get in and out of a truck in a skirt anyway so you take the small blessing that comes in the form of cracked leather seats and a door you have to roll down the window to open from the outside.
Dokyeom chases the green Ford down the driveway six minutes later and Mingyu slows down enough for him to hop into the flatbed next to Soonyoung. You’re only two minutes late in the end.
The club is packed with guests all day. By the time dinner service is over and you’ve counted your tips, all you want is to go home and pass out but it’s Seungcheol’s birthday. Despite what he explicitly asked everyone for (an Atari 7800), there’s a bonfire at the beach and if Mingyu is there then you are too. Someone has to pile him and the other boys into the bed of his truck and get them home.
The private section of the beach reserved for locals only is packed. Someone blasts a Bowie track, drunk party goers dancing around the massive bonfire while others relax on logs or sit in the sand and watch. A few people stroll down by the water, splashing through the shallows in the dark.
You stay planted in one of the few real chairs, sipping on a beer while your roommates do who knows what. It’s not that you don’t like parties; but your feet hurt and more than a few people stiffed you today so you’re tired. And now, after a few drinks you’re tired and drunk. But no one is ready to leave so it’s either wait or walk and the five miles back to the house is daunting enough you stay firmly planted.
“Ooo, got any more of those for me?” Jeonghan plants himself in the sand next to you, reaching for the cooler.
You slam the lid down on his hand and pull it out of his reach. “Fuck off, you still owe me for last time.”
He tries cozying up to you; pretending the arm around your shoulder is meant as a sweet hug and not a means to get his hand back in the ice box behind you. “Look, I didn’t drink your vodka. But if I did, it tasted like shit.”
“I’m not talking about the vodka, I’m talking about when you fucked some bimbo in my bed!”
He’s already drunk on someone else’s booze; Seungcheol’s no doubt.  
“Oh. That.” Jeonghan scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, it was a big misunderstanding.”
“What misunderstanding? Your dick couldn’t stay in your pants for three more feet to fuck in Soonyoung’s room?”
Jeonghan balks, eyes glazed in the fire light. “Have you tried having sex on a waterbed? It’s not easy.”
Mingyu, as always, is honed in on your bad mood and comes up the beach smiling, hair a mess in the wind. You don’t stare and focus on slapping Jeonghan’s hands away. “Everything okay?”
“I’m gonna kill Jeonghan,” you mumble. 
“I asked her for a beer.”
Mingyu arches a brow. “Didn’t you fuck some girl in her bed last time we had a party?”
“You’re focusing on the wrong thing. She is drunk and acting like the beer czar. Where is the hospitality?”
“If I give you one will you leave?”
“Yes,” Jeonghan responds immediately.
Mingyu passes him two beers and snaps the cooler shut before the older man can get greedy. Jeonghan salutes Mingyu and then sticks his tongue out at you before leaving for the other side of the fire.
“Eat shit and die!” you call. You love Jeonghan but he’s got a way of grating on your last never. Especially after the girl he hooked up with stained your sheets with fake tan even if he offered to buy you a new bed and sheets.
Jeonghan waves the hand full of beers over his head. “Eat shit and live!”
“Alright, let’s get you home,” Mingyu chuckles. 
In his truck, the radio hums one of his fifty million cassettes. He only breaks the comfy lull at a deserted intersection. “One to ten, how mad would you be if we took a detour?”
“At least five, but it depends on where.” You eye him sceptically. Truly, all you want is to get home, shower, and sleep. But Mingyu had a way of convincing you to go along with whatever plan he’d cooked up.
“Chocolate shakes at Joe’s and then the lookout.”
It’s hard saying no to that. Even harder when Mingyu stares at you like a hopeful puppy. 
Your eyes roll. “Okay, maybe like a two.”
“I’ll get you chili cheese fries.”
“Negative one.”
Mingyu turns right, humming along to the next song the entire way to the drive in diner. Your eyes are heavier each minute but greasy food sounds fantastic and your grumbling stomach keeps you from falling asleep against the door. 
Joe’s sits in all its neon glory, like a little beacon of light in the otherwise quiet beach town. Most of the picnic tables littered outside are covered in people; out of towners, teenage locals with sun bleached hair and frizzy perms, old couples who’ve been coming since milkshakes were invented. Almost all of the workers rushing through the diner in red polos are still in highschool and then there’s Vernon manning the cash register at the window like the captain of a ship. He doesn’t even look like he works here; white cut off tee and neon green swim trunks don’t really match the fifties aesthetic but no one says anything, even the owner.
Vernon doesn’t bother ringing the order up, yelling at the line cooks it’s on the house. He thrusts two paper cups and a greasy paper bag across the counter and greets the next customer in line.
Twenty minutes later Mingyu is parking his truck on the side of the road and trailing across the dunes to the even more secluded beach, one only the most local townies know about. Since most of those are few and far between, it’s just you two planted in the sand, chilli cheese fries and chocolate shakes filling your bellies in no time.
“I think I’m gonna get Joe’s logo tattooed on me.”
“He’ll probably leave the place to you if you did.”
“Vernon is literally named in his will, I’ve seen it.” Mingyu lays back in the sand and closes his eyes.
The waves crash on along the shore, the perfect soundtrack to lull you closer to sleep now that your belly is filled. Beneath you, the sand is just warm enough to be cozy against the chill rolling off the ocean.
“Wanna swim?” he asks.
Sinking deeper, eyes closed, you’re only thinking about how amazing your bed would be right at this very moment. “I want to go to sleep.”
“Studies show you sleep better after swimming.” Mingyu rolls up to his feet, grabbing you in an attempt to get you to agree. He knows you will. Wherever one is the other is sure to follow. It’s been that way since you two were in diapers and Mingyu started walking seconds after you only to chase you around the living room.
You’re deadweight in his arms as you respond,“How would you know? You didn’t go to college.”
“I’m just academically inclined.”
“My apologies,” you gasp. A swim does sound nice for your aching muscles. It’s been so long since you just enjoyed the water. Last time you swam was when you picked up a life guarding shift and an old man screamed bloody murder because he didn’t know how to swim; never mind he was in the shallow end of the pool. 
You finally rise to your feet and shrug off your shirt.
Mingyu joins. He doesn’t shy away as he drops his pants, his shirt floating to the ground next to it. You don’t stare. There’s no need when you’ve seen him nearly naked a million times. But you do catch him staring when you bend over to fold your shorts.
“What?”
Blinking out of his daze, Mingyu bolts for the ocean. “Last one in the water is a rotten egg!”
“You fucking cheater!” you scream and sprint after him. 
He’s far out by the time you catch up, where the waves are just starting to curl in on themselves. You both bob along to their rhythm as the tide pulls in and out. 
Mingyu dives beneath the water, breaching with his hair sticking to his face. His lips are wet and slick. Mingyu pulls you a little, brings you into his chest so the next wave you coast over together. 
You want to kiss him. 
It’s not a new thought; doesn’t surprise you one bit. His mouth probably still tastes like that last sip of chocolate shake. The first and only time you’ve ever kissed Mingyu you were both two out of it to actually appreciate it. It was poetically cruel to give your first kiss away to your best friend only for him to forget it the next day.
It’s easy to ignore the urge to kiss him. You’ve wanted to kiss him again for years. Touching him is an entirely different matter. You can touch Mingyu as much as you like, he likes it when you do and pouts when you don’t. You rarely shy away from a chance to let him touch you either. It’s never enough though.
You twist around him, clinging to his back. Ankles locked across his stomach, Mingyu pulls your hands in front of him and holds your hands; his thumb traces the knob of your wrist over and over in tiny circles. He definitely feels the way your nipples harden through your bra but has the courtesy to ignore it; lets you hide from the cold water in the curve of his neck.
“You need a haircut,” you say. You tug on one of the long locks hanging at eye level, and Mingyu shivers. With so much bare skin pressed against each other you feel the goosebumps blooming on his skin, and when you pull again to see what’ll happen he snatches your hand away and changes the subject.
“Are you gonna be good for the Open this weekend?”
“I’ll be fine,” you yawn. Mingyu pulls your legs tighter around his waist, bobbing you both amongst the waves. It’s dangerously relaxing. “I’m not losing to Seungkwan again this year.”
“We’re not losing to Seungkwan this year.”
“Damn straight.”
You float in silence. Mingyu keeps both of you above water. When you signal you’re ready to go he carries you out of the water, right up to where your clothes lay. He doesn’t let you down as he scoops them up and goes for his car. 
“Show off,” you mumble.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
You’re deposited on the ground next to the driver’s side door. Apparently he can’t hold you and dig up the spare towels he keeps packed beneath the seats. There’s no point in putting your clothes back on over your wet underwear so you ride back to the house wrapped tightly in a towel and Mingyu’s around his waist, chest completely bare.
You blast through a shower, done before the crappy water heated even has time to reach full potential which isn’t much because rent is cheap and your landlord cheaper. But you’re clean and that’s all that matters before you dress and crawl into bed, the door of your room still open. You catch Mingyu passing by on the way back to his room, towel around his neck and the cut sweat shorts he swears don’t need to be thrown out hanging low on his hips. 
“Where are you going?” you call. 
His head pops in, covered in shadow from the hall light. “You said, literally this morning might I add, ‘sleep in my room one more time and I’ll kill you.’”
“Yeah well,” you huff. “My feet hurt. So you can sleep in here if you give me a massage.”
He does and he doesn’t even complain while doing it. Mingyu closes your bedroom door, locks you both in the dark; sits at the foot of your bed, tugging your feet across his lap and setting to work. His thumb digs into the arch of your foot, malting all of your muscles into straight goo. You’ve never been more happy for his overly abundant body heat as he works his hands up your calves. He’s frustratingly attentive as you shiver and wiggle in blissful agony.
In the dark of your room, brain hazy with fatigue, you don’t care you’re moaning at the pressure of his palms working the knots out of your muscles. Mingyu doesn’t acknowledge it but he does knead a little bit hard and you sigh from relief. And then the bastard digs his thumb into that place behind your knee that's painfully ticklish.
“You asshole!” you scream, scrambling away. 
“What’s wrong? I thought you wanted a massage?” he laughs. You try to kick him but he catches your foot and pins it to his stomach. 
“I swear—Mingyu! Stop!”
Thankfully, he does after a few more pleas. You can’t even see him in the dark except for the reflection of the moon through your blinds that clues you into his silhouette. But you know he’s satisfied because he starts humming while massaging once again. It’s nice. You start nodding off to the soft strength of his hands and the rich sound of his voice.
Mingyu prides himself on doing a thorough job in everything so once your ankles and calves are worked into submission his hands reach higher. Almost like he doesn’t realize exactly where he’s going; who he’s touching as he grips just above your knee. Your legs part and Mingyu keeps going. 
Your best friend is beautiful and you love him. Of course, you do. Like every other time you’ve been turned on by him, you staunchly pretend it isn’t happening. Make up some excuse; biology, you’re in love with him. the fact you haven’t been laid in nearly a year, you’re in love with Mingyu, you’ve been drinking, your best friend has his hand beneath the hem of your pajama shorts and you’re in love with him.
“Good?” he asks.
Mingyu lingers there for a second. Then another one. You decide feigning sleep is the less awkward option than begging him to finger you until you can’t see straight. It doesn’t take much pretending; you’re bone dead tired and the second you let it filter in it takes control. Ever the gentleman, Mingyu removes his hands and climbs up to lay next to you.
You actually fall asleep curled against his back. It’s still too hot even with the ceiling fan on high so you both lay above the covers. 
The next morning you wake up the same as always, legs tangled, his chest to your back because Mingyu doesn’t understand personal space – especially your personal space. It’s fine. You’re used to it. It’s your day off which means it’s too early to be awake because it’s still dark in your room. If you try really hard you know you can fall back asleep until noon.
But then you feel exactly what woke you up.
Mingyu has a boner.
You reach back and pinch his side to wake him. You know he’s at least semi-conscious because he whines and tries to hide in your hair as you admonish him. “Get your dick off me.”
“Ignore it, he’ll go away,” his lips smack next to your ear.
“Mingyu,” you whine. “It’s gross.”
He falls back asleep without moving anywhere. If you had pushed at him he would’ve rolled over and given you his back to cuddle up against but you don’t so he doesn’t. You try not to think about how big he is. Or how your underwear are still a little sticky from last night. Or the fact your shorts rode up during the night and the only thing separating your ass from his cock is those damn threadbare sweatshorts. There is also the placement of his hand just below your boobs. Over your shirt because the universe isn’t that cruel.
It’s fine. It’s not the first time he’s gotten hard while sharing a bed. The first place you two rented - freshly eighteen and just starting to have a world without parents breathing down your necks - there was only enough money between you to split one bedroom and have enough money to afford a bed. Thankfully, Mingyu is the cleanest person you know so it worked without bloodshed but it left some very uncomfortable moments in the morning when you’d wake up from dirty dreams about your childhood crush only to find his face a few inches away. Or the other, more awkward, days when Mingyu’s body reminded him he was a hormonal teenager sharing a bed with a girl with zero supervision.
You both refuse to talk about it. Or the times either of you walked in on the other masturbating. 
True to his word, his dick softens against your ass and you try not to be a little disappointed. A world of possibilities if you weren’t terrified of ruining a life long friendship. You could roll over and kiss him. And if he let you kiss him then you’d want to touch him. If you touched him then he’d probably touch you back. In all the years you’d know him you didn’t take Mingyu for a selfish person; or a selfish lover. If he reduced you to a puddle with a simple massage last night then what else was he capable of? 
But you don’t want meaningless satisfaction. You want Mingyu. Everyday, all the time. One hundred percent completely yours. 
Eventually your alarm clock blares and Mingyu rolls out of bed; leaving you all alone as he heads out to work with the other two. You fall asleep once the front door slams shut.
Ten hours later, Mingyu isn’t home. No problem. He probably got roped into doing an extra shift or the last group he caddied for insisted on treating him to a drink. It happens. Often. 
You don’t worry until hour twelve rolls around and Soonyoung and Dokyeom aren’t home either. The restaurant  is closed by this hour, the last tables cleared out and reset for the next day. The pool is closed too. One of them should be home.
The house is too quiet without them. You try reading. Watching TV. Listening to music. Cleaning the kitchen. You try everything you can think of to make that horrible feeling in your stomach go away but it doesn’t.
Then the phone rings.
“Hello?”
The line cracks with a familiar voice. “Hey, it’s DK. Umm…”
“Where the hell are you guys?” you ask.
“Promise me you won’t freak.”
“You saying that pretty much guarantees I’m gonna freak.”
“Okay, listen, everything is fine. Mingyu is okay but—”
“But what?”
“He hurt himself on the course today and we’re at the hospital. Hoshi is on his way to get you right now.”
“What the hell happened?”
“Something twisted wrong or something, I don’t know I flunked out of med school.”
It takes Soonyoung fifteen minutes to get to the house but once he does you feel a little better. You don’t even get to ask before he’s talking.
“He’s fine,” he promises. “Just doped up on painkillers.”
“Did they say what’s wrong?”
“Something with his knee, nothing super serious but he’s supposed to stay off it for like a month or something.”
Soonyoung looks guilty as you take the keys and leave him behind but he has to be up in four hours when the rest of you don’t.
The hospital is nearly deserted this late at night, a few nurses in the parking lot smoking during their break but otherwise you're pretty much alone. Inside the reception area is all sterile lighting and pleather chairs in pastel pink and teal.
A woman in scrubs and feathered blowout sits at the desk answering phone calls and scratching through paperwork.
“I’m here for Mingyu. Mingyu Kim.”
“Room eight.”
You thank her and head back to search for wherever your best friend is holed up. It takes only a few walks around the corridor because unless he aged fifty years, the elderly woman in room eight is not him.
You find him and Dokyeom with their eyes glued to the TV, Scooby Doo reruns stealing their attention. You hover in the doorway.
Mingyu has his leg wrapped from mid-shin up his thigh, knee resting on a stack of pillows. His eyes are glazed from whatever pills the hospital staff gave him before your arrival.
Someone clears their throat behind you. By the scrubs you assume she’s the doctor. “Another friend of Mr. Kim’s?” 
“Yeah,” you nod. “Is he okay?”
“He sprained his knee. Nasty work but not fatal.”
“How?”
She shrugs, pen clicking in her hand. “Over use, stretched too far either side. Good news, he doesn’t need surgery.”
“So he’ll be okay?”
“Since he didn’t tear any ligaments I’d say a few weeks until he recovers, longer if he doesn’t rest properly. And I mean actually rest. At least a week in bed, and then two on crutches. Maybe three but he’ll be okay.”
Mingyu is fine. As fine as he can be with a bum leg for the next few weeks but fine nonetheless. You feel like you can actually breathe again, the anxious part of your brain proclaiming the worst finally silent.
“Alright, thank you.”
Weight off your chest, you enter the room. Dokyeom sees you first and bows out. He knows you’re planning to rip Mingyu a new one. Or cry. You don’t really do well when he’s hurt or vice versa.
Mingyu only notices your presence when you’re standing next to the bed, arms crossed, breath shaky.
“You’re mad,” he whispers, chin tucked to his chest like an upset toddler.
“I’m not mad.”
“Really?” He sounds hopeful, dumb puppy eyes round and wet like he’s ready to cry at the first sound of your disapproval.
“I was mad when you broke your arm because Jungkook talked you into boogie boarding drunk. I was mad when Wonwoo gave you a black eye from his Atari controller. I was mad when you, tweedle dee and tweedle dumb almost flooded the house. Now, I’m furious. What the fuck were you thinking?”
You’re mad because he’s in a hospital bed and you thought he died. And it terrified you.
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
You break, shoulders sagging in defeat. It isn’t his fault. Freak accident, an overdue inevitable. “I know, I’m sorry. I just… you really scared me.”
“Do you want a hug?”
“Your leg is broken and you’re offering me a hug?”
He stares at you, eyes pretty and dark with huge pupils. “Dude, I’m so high you could tell me you crashed my truck and I wouldn’t care.”
“A hug would be nice.”
It’s uncomfortable to bend at the waist but Mingyu makes it worth it. Sweeps you into his chest, doesn’t comment on the hot tears that damp his neck and shirt but that might have to do with the fact he’s out of his mind. But he also brushes his hand through your hair and kisses the top of your head so it isn’t so bad.
“You didn’t crash my truck, did you?”
“No,” you snort.
You soak in it for a few minutes, let Scooby Doo fill the silence while you sniffle into his collar for a little while longer. And then you're shoving it all away with the realization Mingyu can’t work if he can’t get around the resort.
“Doctor said you’re out of work for at least a week. And after that you’ll probably be stuck in the laundry room because I doubt Jin wants you hobbling around the cabana with crutches.”
“Fuck,” he whispers.
“Yeah. Fuck,” you agree. “I’ll figure something out, take more shifts. Josh needs more surf instructors too so I can pick those up. Hoshi probably owes one of us money.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. It's just gonna be a tight winter is all.”
“What about the Open?”
“Jungkook can fill in for you. If we win, he takes half of your share. It’s better than nothing.”
He mutters something you don’t hear. Probably more high protests and apologies. It smells like antiseptic.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
It takes three nurses, Dokyeom, a wheelchair, and an infinite reserve of your patience to get Mingyu in the bed of his truck. His knee is bandaged in the split so thickly he can’t move it and he’s too tall to sit in the passenger seat with his leg straight so the truckbed is the only place for him to go. You try to drive responsibly but it’s late and you're burnt out from a long day.
Back home, Hoshi is passed out in his room, the stink of weed warning you not to wake him. Dokyeom offers to help but thankfully, even high on painkillers, Mingyu acclimates to crutches enough to get from outside to his room.
“You smell,” you say to cut the tension.
“How am I supposed to shower like this?” He gestures to his leg. You know the warning signs of his temper. Mingyu will pretend it doesn’t bother him but it clearly does; having to ask for your help to do something as simple as shower.
“I could hose you down in the yard.”
He pouts. The meds must be wearing off at this point. “I’m sure that would make you feel better.”
“Nah, I’d be the one who has to clean you off the driveway afterwards.” You shake your head. The bathroom is small, the shower stall smaller but Mingyu needs a shower. “Give me a second.”
One of the plastic lawn chairs from the back porch fits perfectly in the stall. You lay out everything he could need: soap, towels, a trash bag to wrap over the stint. Then you head back towards your room to get him.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Mingyu hobbles alongside you, easily maneuvering the hallway but the bathroom is more difficult. There isn’t space for his crutches so he slumps into your side, way heavier than the time you had to drag him home higher than a kite. 
It’s claustrophobic with him basically on top of you but he’s capable of underdressing when you park him against the counter and focus on angling the shower head so he doesn't end up accidentally waterboarded. 
“Underwear stays on. I don’t want to see your dick.”
“Yeah, well, he’s pretty scared of you right now anyway.”
After helping him into the chair you leave him to his business with strict instructions to yell for you when he’s done. You use the time to clean your room. Clothes off the floor, bed made so he can sleep with a few extra pillows you snagged from his bed where you’ll be sleeping.
He’s got a bum leg, the least you could do is give him the better room.
You do everything the nurses told you. An ice pack and a hot water bottle all sit on the side table ready for Mingyu after you fish him out of the tub.
A yell of your name is your cue.
Mingyu sits soaked and pathetic. He couldn’t reach the towels you laid out, so you have to hand them to him. Turns out it’s also more difficult getting him out than in, you have to touch and pull and push him. His skin lingers with warmth from the water and a little slippery so it’s even harder. Mingyu is no help at all. A Great Dane who thinks he’s a Chihuahua.
He’s out like a light once he’s in your bed. Dead asleep beneath the covers with his leg sticking out to the side. You tuck him in extra tight, snagging the forgotten provisions and returning them to the kitchen. 
You come back to grab clothes and leave but Mingyu sits awake with the covers pulled back for you to join.
“Come on,” he beckons.
“I’m not sleeping in here.”
His eyes shoot open, attempting to sit up, “Why not?” 
“Your knee—” you start.
“Let me worry about my knee.”
Sure. Like that’ll happen.
“Physically impossible for me not to worry.”
“The doctor said it’s bad for me to be lonely.” He pulls the covers back again and your chest aches. 
“She did not.”
“She did too,” he grunts. 
“Fine. Close your eyes, I need to change.”
He zips them shut. Throws an arm over his face for dramatic effect. You rush into a clean shirt (his) and shorts and dive beneath the covers.
“You’re so far away,” Mingyu whines. 
“Mingyu stop!”
He doesn’t. He uses all those muscles against you and drags you up his chest. “Come here.”
“Happy?”
“Yep.”
Your head is cradled heavy on his chest, the argument dying out. He falls asleep quickly and you follow right behind.
In the morning, Mingyu complains about his leg until you leave for the last minute shift you begged off Chan. The next two days are the same. Mingyu stays on the couch or tucked away in your room while everyone else scrambles around him. Until the weekend comes giving all of you time off.
Saturday is the Open. The biggest doubles volleyball tournament on the beach, boasting a first place prize of two grand. Seungkwan and Seungcheol won the last two years and never let either of you forget it for standing a foot below them on the podium, firmly in second and a thousand dollars poorer than them.
Two years in second place buys you into the semi-finals. Thank god, because Jungkook and you haven’t played together in years and he’s an even bigger ball hog than you remember.
“Talk!” Mingyu calls from his chair like a washed up coach. You argued with him for hours over whether or not him coming to the beach was a good idea given he’s done everything but what the doctor recommended. But he’d be damned if you beat Seungkwan and he wasn’t there to gloat about it.
Dokyeom and Soonyoung serve as his assistants, hitting over the net while you and Jungkook scramble to dig every single one up like it’s do or die.
“That one was clearly mine!” Jungkook argues.
“It was going out of bounds!”
“It was close!”
It’s been like this all morning. While the other courts are playing to qualify you and Jungkook try not to rip each other's throats out. It’ll take a miracle to win a single point let alone the two matches you need to win.
You just want the day over with so you can drown your sorrows in a chocolate shake and think about how satisfying it would be to launch it at your friend’s head at warp speed.
The first game is hard and fast. Jungkook saves your ass more times than you can count, committed to winning even if it sends him crashing into the line of spectators sitting courtside. It doesn’t help you win the first set one bit. Jaehyun successfully blocks nearly every attempt Jungkook makes at the net and the ones that do slide through fly out of bounds.
You don't take well to failure and neither does Jungkook. 
Somewhere around the third rally of the second set you two find a cohesive back and forth. Jungkook digs a cut shot, you set him up and he’s there with a kill. It happens again. The third time Jaehyun gives up on sending it deep and drops the ball right over the net and the miracle you needed happens because you get it up enough for Jungkook to return it and earn the point. 
It starts to feel good. Adrenaline lifting you to the next level, vision narrowed down to you and the game. Lung straining, muscles burning, your skin hot from the sun. Your swimsuit leaves plenty of skin exposed to collect more sand with each impact on the ground. The wind picks up slightly, and turns the sound of waves and the crowd into one dull murmur..
You and Jungkook win two sets to one.
He’s sweaty and covered in sand when he sweeps you into a hug, a victory cry loud on his lips. It isn’t the final match but it’s the small victories that count. Jungkook loves winning, he only likes you and mostly for Mingyu’s sake. The friend of my boyfriend's friend is my friend too, or something like that.
Mingyu and Jungkook are the boyfriends.
On the side lines, Mingyu looks happy. Tired but happy. He’s like a king holding court, friends and strangers circling around him for an ounce of attention. Most of the people at the resort haven’t seen him since he busted his knee and check he’s okay. The others are out of towners attracted to a pretty boy with a sad cast and tendency to talk a mile a minute with anyone who’d listen. 
You push them all out of the way and celebrate with him.
“We did it!”
“Yeah,” he nods. That’s all the celebration you get from him before he’s on to the next game set to start in five minutes. “You and Jungkook need to keep Kwan from hitting. Serve short, hit deep.”
It's weird but you don’t focus on it. You need water and to get back on the court.
“Got it.” 
Seungkwan doesn’t shit talk. It’s mostly Seungcheol at the net trying to bait you into an argument while Jungkook readies to serve.
“How’s your boyfriend?” he jabs.
“How’s yours?” You focus on the sand beneath your feet, the breeze off the wave. He’s been trying to get under your skin with that line for years. It won’t work now. 
First point, you and Jungkook.
The next five, Seungkwan and Seungcheol.
The score goes back and forth, a slim margin for error as the number climbs closer to twenty-one. 
You hit the next set, aiming for the wide gap between Seungkwan and the line. The ball sliced across the net, Seungcheol misreading it by just a hair and the momentum of his block swinging him the opposite direction. It’s perfect. It heads straight for the line and lands without Seungkwan able to save it in time. 
The crowd breaks into applause. The official blows his whistle…
And calls it out.
“That was a touch! Are you fucking blind?” Mingyu yells.
You wince at the next whistle as she flashes him a yellow card.
Fuck. 
He’s up at the perimeter of the court fuming, hands on his hips through his crutches. You march right up to him, identical scowl.
“Mingyu, I swear if you get a red card, I will shove my foot so far up your ass—”
The whistle blows and Seungkwan serves without waiting for you to be ready. It’s a rocket right where you should have been standing.
Seungkwan and Seungcheol take the first match by four points.
The second match starts worse. You’re out of rhythm, fuming at blowing the last set. Jungkook fills in the best he can and keeps you two from totaling blowing it. Fifteen to seventeen with your serve.
You pop it over the net, Seungkwan reading it easily. But a last second gust pushes it of course.
Ace.
Lucky isn’t as strongly on your side for the next serve but it’s good enough. Jungkook passes. With a quick set, he rises above the net, hanging midair. A quick snap of his arm delivers a hit neither opponents on the other side of the net can reach. The ball slams into the sand right before the line.
It’s tit for tat. One up one down. Your body hurts, covered in bruises from diving over and over again but you don’t stop. Jungkook doesn’t either.
Match point comes swiftly. Seungkwan tosses the ball in the air and unleashes a deep serve. It’s fast but you’re underneath it but the angle is wrong. Jungkook dumps it over the net out of Seungcheol’s reach but Seungkwan is there. 
No one’s giving an inch. Just when the ball nearly drops someone picks it up. Everyone plays ugly, scrappy. 
A break comes when Seungcheol passes too high, right on the net. Seungkwan knows it, you know it. You race to joust. Pushing with everything you’ve got until the ball gives. It falls to the sand.
On the other team's side.
Everything blurs. You tackle Jungkook to the ground, cheering. Your friends race onto the court shouting. There’s a dog pile someone has to pull you out of because you can’t breathe underneath them all but you don’t care. Your ears ring, eyes nearly shut from how wide you smile.
You’re carried away for the podium ceremony, Mingyu nowhere in sight. It feels pretty damn good being on top. The heavy weight of the gold medal keeps you grounded. But your best friend is missing and a part of you is gone with him.
You don’t find him until the after party at the locals only beach. He’s got a red cup and a scowl on the tailgate of his truck. 
“Where’d you go? I didn’t see you at the podium.”
“You seemed fine on your own.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” he mumbles into his cup.
“Why are you being such a Debbie downer? We won!”
“You guys won. I got to sit there and watch.”
“Okay? You’re still five hundred richer than this morning.”
“Party over here?” Jungkook interrupts. He’s got a joint between his fingers and a beer bottle. “Before I forget, this is yours.”
He shoves an envelope into Mingyu’s hand, taking the open spot on the tailgate next to him before laying back and looking at the stars.
“I’m gonna grab another beer.”
Mingyu moves surprisingly fast when he wants to. Even with crutches on loose sand he’s back by his truck and waiting for you to leave.  
“What’s got sand in his swimsuit?” Jungkook asks. 
“He’s just… bummed about not playing. It’s fine.”
Jungkook snorts in disbelief. “You think that’s why he looks like a kicked puppy?”
“Then enlighten me, wise one.”
“Why do guys do anything?”
“Because you all lack basic brain function?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another drink. “To impress girls.”
“I’ve seen your belching contests. Not exactly panty dropping material.”
“Okay obviously not that.”
You had no idea Mingyu meant to impress anyone today. He hadn’t mentioned it, usually he doesn’t need to. Some tourist in for the summer hanging off his every word gave clear intention where his interest laid but since his knee you saw all of zero prospects.
“You two are so fucking stupid,” Jungkoook snorts. “You, YN. He wanted to impress you.”
“That makes no sense.”
“He hasn’t had a real girlfriend since you two started living together.”
You take a long sip before answering.. “So? You haven’t had a real girlfriend ever.”
“Bitch.”
“Slut.”
“Mingyu wanted you two to win. Together,” he emphasises. “Because guys want to impress the girls they like.”
“Oh…oh.”
“Get it now?”
“How do you know?”
“If I have to have one more bro chat with him on how to tell you I’m going to take his crutches and beat him to death with them.”
“Got it.”
You despise the tiny part of you that screams like a little girl finding out her playground crush knows her name. He likes me! He likes me! She squeals, bubbling around your stomach like champagne. 
Drunk on the power itching at your fingertips, you turn to find Mingyu. He’s right where you know you’d find him, a log near the fire, tossing in tiny sticks and watching them disappear in the flames.
“Ready to leave?”
Mingyu nods and gets to his feet, crutches carrying him to his truck. You take the driver's seat and peel out of the lot. 
“How mad would you be if we took a detour?” you ask.
“I wanna go home,” he grunts, staring out the window.
“I want to celebrate with just you,” you share. “Please?”
He melts but clings to the stubborn tone. “Okay.”
Another night at the lookout except this time you’re the one cheering him up. You park his truck closer to the water, he can’t very well get in but you want him to be able to at least see the ocean. He hobbles around to the flatbed and plants his ass on the tailgate.
“I think I’m gonna swim.”
“Okay.”
You tug off your shirt, then your pants. Then your bra.
That’s what freezes Mingyu with bug eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Swimming,” you shrug. He catches your swim bottoms as you launch them at his chest. 
“Naked?” he squeaks.
“Who's gonna see?”
“Uhh, me?”
“So? Maybe I want you to.”
You step closer, hands on his spread thighs and squeeze. 
“What?”
Mingyu doesn’t look beneath your collarbone and you smirk.
“A little birdie told me you have a crush.”
His lips form around words but no sound comes out. Maybe you’re being unfair by standing between his legs completely naked, eying him expectantly.
“Do you?”
“I…” he chokes.
“Think about it,” you whisper. His lips are warm against yours, soft and yielding. Then, you turn to sprint towards the ocean.
Mingyu apparently comes back to himself quickly, sputtering and laughing as you disappear beneath the waves. “You can’t just do that!”
Late night swims aren’t as fun without him around to keep you warm. You dip under the water and come up with soaked hair. You only last five minutes before heading back to where he waits, all your nudity on display but Mingyu keeps his eyes on yours, beaming like an idiot.
The second you’re close enough he tugs you into his chest and kisses you. For real this time. There's more to it than simple payback. He kisses you long and hard, pours all his want into it and takes what you give him in return. His tongue rolls across your lip before you open your mouth, a moan bubbles from one of you.
“I can’t believe Hoshi got to kiss you before I did,” he sighs.
You nestle closer. Right into the warmth of his chest, the soft fabric of his baggy shirt and cologne better than anything else in the world. 
“What do you mean Hoshi kissed me before you did? You were my first kiss dingus.”
“What?”
“Ninth grade, Dokyeom’s parents went out of town and we raided the liquor cabinet.”
He stares back at you blankly. You’re still naked.
“You literally begged me to kiss you because you thought you had alcohol poisoning and would die.”
“Oh my god.”
You kiss his cheek and he loves it, pushing into your lips for more with a happy smile. 
“I knew you didn’t remember.”
You nuzzle down his neck, savoring the warmth of his skin against your mouth; nipping until he shudders. You want him as naked as you. But despite the beach being secluded it’s very much public and you don’t need to be caught the first time you get to kiss him.
“In my defense, I thought that was a dream.”
“How often do you dream of me kissing you?”
“Pretty often.”
“How often is that?”
“Almost every night.”
“You’re such a sap.”
He doesn’t deny it. He’s too busy cupping your face and kissing you again, less tongue and yearning; slings an arm around your waist forcing you infinitesimally closer. It’s sweet at first, lingering touch against your naked back. Catalogues the knobs of your spine with painstaking slowness. Lower. Your waist, the sway of your hips. Then he’s got his hand on your ass, a gentle squeeze of exploration, and you feel a little bit guilty such sweet kisses turn you on so much.
“Come on, let’s get home.”
You back away, snagging the blanket he pulled out earlier and hiding your body as he trails behind. “Are you gonna drive home naked? Because that’s a new fantasy I didn’t know I had.”
“How many fantasies do you have?”
“Where do you want me to start?”
“Calm down, Casanova,” you snort. You tug on the spare clothes collected in his truck; a holey, oil stained t-shirt and a pair of sweats. They smell like him.
“Hey.” Mingyu tugs your hand across the center seat and brings it to his lips. He’s blushy but it might just be from a long day beneath the sun. Or from the boner he’s not even attempting to hide. It’s cute. 
“Hey.”
“I do have a crush on you.”
“I kinda figured.”
“Since like high school.”
“Good,” you comment. “Same.”
An anticlimactic confession but it fits between the two of you. You’ve always been the black cat, a little more out of reach in terms of affection but Mingyu has enough words of affirmation for the both of you. You’re much more adept at showing him how you feel anyway. It’s why you’ve been playing nurse for the past week. 
He keeps your hands tangled the entire way home, slides closer on the bench seat so his side heats against yours. There aren’t many stop signs on the way home but the ones you do hit last longer than needed because Mingyu uses it as an excuse to tilt your face towards him and kiss you again and again. Your lips, your nose, between your brows; slowly, savoring every second.
He’s used to his crutches so getting into the house and locking the door takes only a blink. The other two aren’t home which is a blessing in a curse because in the dark of your room you realize it’s just you and Mingyu. No more barriers in the way, no one to interrupt. It’s unbearably awkward in a way it’s not been since you were nineteen and walked in on him rubbing one out of your shared bed at four in the afternoon.
“Um…”
“Yeah—”
“So,” you stutter. 
Mingyu takes it on himself to reign things in.
“You like me, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “And I like you. Well, love you and not just as my best friend but I probably shouldn’t say that—wait! Shit! I didn’t mean that. I mean I did mean that but I didn’t mean to say it.”
“Gyu.”
He collapses onto the corner of your bed, freaking himself out. Ripping his hands through his hair, continuing to panic. “Of course, I love you. You’re my best friend and—”
“Gyu.”
“And if you don’t want to try dating me that’s fine! I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to. I don't think I could, you’re pretty stubborn. Which I like! But—”
“Mingyu!”
“What?”
“Take a breath,” you command. You’re freaked out too but Mingyu’s worse at hiding his feelings. Always has been.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, just relax a little. Please. You’re freaking me out.”
A crash echoes from outside the door. Glass breaking and some loud curses of one drunken roommate and a decidedly sober sounding Dokyeom shushing him. 
“Sorry,” Mingyu whispers.
“So you love me, huh?”
“I—” he chokes, and then cuts himself off to nod.
Mingyu, who likes to pretend he’s cool and smooth, reduced to a tight bundle of nerves as he sits on the edge of your bed and waits for your response. He looks at his hands. They flex anxiously together as the silence stretches on. You decide on mercy.
“It’s okay. I love you, too.”
Mingyu’s head shoots up so fast you’re afraid he gives himself whiplash. All you can do is smile, embarrassed by the way he stares at you in awe.
“Really?” He’s already pulling you closer
Biting your lip to control the grin attempting to split your face in half, you nod gently. In his lap, you wrap your arms across his shoulders and say it again. It’s quiet outside the bubble you two have made for yourselves but you like his childish giggles as the only thing tickling your ears.
Innocent touching turns lewd in slow measures just like the beach. Your both more deliberate because getting Mingyu out of his pants is a team effort, underwear firmly in place because you haven’t decided if you’re going to fuck him yet. You want to. But they serve as reassurance you don't rush to a good ending. 
Your shirt comes off, then your pants. You shepherd him to the headboard. Fully naked in his lap, Mingyu traces his fingers over your softest parts. It makes you squirm enough you kiss him to break the itch in your gut from nearly innocent touching. But it only makes it worse. He kisses you with just enough vigor to tease; pulls you closer, a tight grip on your waist you’d struggle to break out of if the thought crossed your mind. A tug encourages your rutting against the hard tent of his underwear.
It’s so much better than anything else before. Mingyu seems to agree, panting and grunting against your throat. You could just do this. It’d be enough to come; more than, as Mingyu sinks down further in the pillows and sucks your nipple gently between his lips. His tongue rolls flat and hot against it before switching to the other one. Your jaw slacks, mouth dry from heavy breaths.
“F-fuck, Gyu.”
He sucks harder and your hips follow, the line of his cock beneath his boxers nothing short of incredible. You’re a little embarrassed from how wet you are. Wet enough to soak his briefs a shade darker. But Mingyu takes charge, manhandles you across his cock with painful friction that makes you limp and pliant.
“Oh my god, Mingyu,” you taper off in a moan. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“‘Mingyu, it’s gross!’” he mocks and then hisses from your teeth on his neck. “Not exactly a confidence boost.”
“Yeah, well, I only said that because I wanted to you to—fuck—fuck me.”
Fishing his cock out from his underwear, you lazily jerk him to full mast which takes only seconds. Mingyu bucks into the swipe of your thumb. You move to suck away the mess collecting there.
“Shit! Ow! Ow!” he winces.
Immediately, you’re off him. “What’s wrong? Is your leg okay?”
Mingyu grits his teeth, head falling back against the pillows. “You hit my leg.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!”
“This isn’t sexy.” He sinks into the mattress, hands hiding his frustration. 
He’s laying in your bed, in only his underwear and the pale moonlight sneaking through the window. You couldn’t disagree more.
“I don’t know.” You kiss his cheek. “It's kinda hot.”
“Oh yeah, it’s great that the first time I get to do anything I can’t even make it good for you.”
“Now, that’s just ridiculous.”
“Stupid fucking leg.”
“Alright, calm down.” You can’t help but laugh. You try to stifle it but he hears it before you do and pouts even harder. “Maybe we should wait.”
He's got you back in his lap, wincing through the sudden pressure on his knee. “No, it's fine! I promise!”
“If it hurts it’s not fine,” you admonish. Mingyu doesn’t let you go though. You don’t really want him to. “Just lay back and relax, okay?”
“What are you gonna do?”
“I’m gonna blow you  and then I’m gonna fuck you.”
You say it like a promise. Mingyu’s eyes widen, jaw dropping at your lewd threat. His cock twitches against your palm and you soothe it with a quick stroke. He ruts into it again.
“Oh.”
“Sound good?” you ask, another slick glide across the leaking tip. He’s shaking.
“Sounds great.”
You kiss down his front, raze a nipple with your teeth until he whines. Even with the order to relax his hands can’t stay still. On your back, in your hair, pulling at the sheets as you tongue across his abs. You’re nearly sent crashing to the floor while bruising his hip bone. 
This time, you’re extra careful when kneeling between his sprawled legs. Your ass high in the air for his pleasure, him sprawled out on the pillows for yours. He’s pretty. The moonlight slipping between the blinds casts him in a pale glow, lines of light crossing his body and illuminating all the best parts: tangled hair from your hands, swollen lips from your kissing, a splotchy hickey on his hip claiming him as yours.
His cock spills from the band of his underwear, hard and waiting. You keep watching as you suck the tip of it. His eyes open at that, watching you watching him and he can't decide if it's heaven or hell right there beneath you on the mattress.
“Oh my god.”
It’s slow work to roll his underwear down without jostling his bad knee but you distract him with teasing caresses of every newly revealed inch of skin. There isn’t much you haven’t seen but you’re eager to get reacquainted. Fingers, then lips, then soothing the sting of your teeth with some wet pecks. And then you draw his cock across your tongue for the first time and he jumps.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” you garble around a mouthful of cock. 
There isn’t really a good angle with his knee in consideration so the rhythm of your hand is lackluster at best. You make up for it with hollowed cheeks he can’t look away from, and he actually throbs between your swollen lips as your tongue traces every ridge and vein meticulously. Each time he starts to answer your question you suck the head until he whines.
“You’re…” he sighs. “this is gonna sound weird but I’ve only dreamed of you doing this since we were like sixteen.”
A brief break for the sake of your jaw gives you time to joke, “No pressure.”
“It’s already better than I thought if that means anything.”
“Stop being cute, I'm trying to suck your dick.”
You cut off his rebuttal with a swallow and his eyes nearly bug out from his skull at the sight. His hand rests on the back of your head, gathering your hair to keep it out of the way. “Is this…”
You nod enthusiastically before he even finishes his thought, mouth watering at the possibilities. You ache for it. You want him to call the shots and let you follow merrily behind, bent to his whim.
“Open your mouth, baby.”
You open wide for his cock to brush the back of your throat softly. Not too much just yet while he gathers the confidence to maneuver you the way he needs; the way he’s apparently been dying to for years. 
He’s got one hand on the back of your head, the other tangled in the sheets as you suck him rigid. Brace for a gentle gag, just enough for him to hear, and the taste of sticky pre-cum floods across your tongue. You get a few more drags of your tongue up the head of his cock before he leverages to grip in your head and pulls you off.
“Okay, okay. Stop.”
“What’s wrong? Is it your leg?”
Mingyu ignores your question. His only response is a sloppy kiss with too much tongue but you can’t fault him for it with the pleasant heat of his hands on your ass once more. 
“Wanna eat you out,” he grunts.
You snort at his optimism. “I can see some issues with that.”
He lifts you up his chest. It’s horrible that someone with a face like his is also a muscle pig who can bend you anyway he wants even with an injury; Jungkook fully to blame for too many workouts on the beach. Mingyu has you up his chest before you realize where this is going.
“Sit on my face.”
“I—” you blink. Porn isn’t a good reference for sex, not that you’ve seen much since the only TV sits in the living room. You’ve seen the magazines your friends buy as gag gifts though and the thought of Mingyu smothered in your cunt makes you sweat. “Are you sure?”
Apparently it’s a stupid question because Mingyu just pulls you further up until you’re kneeling over him and he’s got enough room to deliver soft licks to your core.
You don’t care how loud you’re being or the fact you share a wall with Dokyeom who doesn’t deserve to hear your pathetic moans in surround sound. Mingyu abuses your clit, sucks and licks and kisses with lewd vigor until you rut down into it.
You need a break. Just a second to regain sanity but Mingyu isn’t that generous. He holds you by your ass, palms it so hard you squeak as he moves you against his mouth, drops one hand when he’s confident you aren’t planning to run away again. The stretch of two thick fingers crook just right to have you seeing stars.
“Th-there.”
Mingyu hums into the sloppy mess of your cunt, holding steady as you fuck yourself along his face, tongue out to swipe messily at your clit. His head shakes back and forth and makes you whine to the ceiling fan. You savor the rhythm he sets, thick fingers working to prep you, stretching and spreading until your stomach dips. He knocks every tight noise in your chest out with each rush.
“That’s…Just like that. Gyu, please.” You nails scratch against the wall aimlessly. He stretches and stretches, molds you to him and every one of his whims. 
Until all you can do is snap.
You’re wobbly on jelly knees, clit numb even while Mingyu suckles against it softly for your come down. You roll off carefully to sit bubbly and golden back in his lap. Eyes closed, you lean blindly into his space and squish his cheek with yours.
He’s just as messy as you feel. Face wet, choked breaths and racing pulse, you deflate against each other. The bloodlust for satisfaction lulls to a simmer. You use it to enjoy all the warm skin on skin contact.
Aftercare comes in the form of lips dragging over wherever either of you can reach, no energy for real kisses just savoring the lazy motion. The hands that plucked you into a whimpering mess massage your thighs, your back; pull and tangle his fingers between yours.
“When my knee is better I’m gonna do that for an hour.”
“Lucky me,” you huff. 
You find his mouth, suck his bottom lip between yours until he demands more. His cock rests against his stomach, hot to the touch. Gentle at first. Teasing with a light brush of your fingers. Then getting a tight grip around him until he bucks.
“Want you,” Mingyu groans, pulling you further up his thighs. “Wanna fuck you.”
On your knees, you position over him to do just that but he stops you.
“Condom?” 
Good thing at least one of you is thinking because you didn’t even think about it. Your nightstand drawer is barren, not even an empty box left. Not a single condom wrapper in sight.
“Fuck. Do you have any in your room?”
He doesn’t. Which means you’re at the mercy of your roommates and their ability to practice safe sex.
You tug Mingyu’s shirt over head but even if it hides your nudity you smell like sex and have the glow on your features to back it up. There’s flaking pre-cum and spit against your chin.Whatever, you’ve heard your roommates howling like dogs enough times to earn your own night of debauchery.
“Hosh.” You rap on his door but he doesn’t answer. When you open it he’s face down in the pillow, trash can close by. You watch just long enough for his chest to expand to make sure he isn’t dead before prodding him in the side.
“Wha? What?” he mumbles through drool.
“Condoms?”
He stares at you with all the sentience of rock before answering. “I can’t sleep with you, Mingyu will kill me.”
“You stupid bitch,” you sneer, slapping him with his own pillow. “Where are your condoms?”
Soonyoung buries himself back into his sheets. “I don’t have any.”
“Oh my god.”
You fly out of his tiger den and to Dokyeom’s door down the hall.
“Kyeom?” You knock. “Dude, are you awake?”
He actually answers the door. His bedside light is still on, some comic book left open on his bed. “Is someone dead?”
“No. Do you have a condom?”
“For who?”
Your eyes roll. “Me, dumbass.”
“Who’s the guy?” Dokyeom looks at you like he doesn’t believe it. Maybe the walls are more soundproof than you thought.
“Mingyu.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, really! We can have girl time later, but I need a condom. Now.”
He forces his entire stash, an unopened 32-count box, into your hands before pushing you back into the hallway with a quiet ‘good luck.’
Your roommates are fucking weird.
Tucked back in the dark of your room, Mingyu is waiting.Blanket wrapped around his waist, propped against the headboard just like you left him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he smiles. He looks a little pathetic. 
“Did you know Dokyeom keeps a thirty-two pack in his room?” You hold up the evidence as proof.
“Apparently, he’s seeing some waitress at the Kellerman.”
“Enough times he needs a bulk box of rubbers?”
“Clearly not if he gave them to you.”
“I think it’s more like a ‘congrats on finally getting together’ present.”
“How thoughtful of him,” he snorts. “Now come over here. I missed you.” 
“Can’t have that, can we?” You kneel on the bed next to him. His hand sneaks up the back of your leg, beneath your shirt to cup your ass.
“Yeah, the doctors said it was bad for me.”
“Well if the doctors said…” You lose the thought in a gentle sigh against his mouth. Mingyu peels your shirt - his shirt - over head and banishes it to the floor. You're naked in his lap and he’s naked beneath you; it makes you clench.
He covers every inch of your naked skin in soft kisses, puffs of breath heating your neck as you stroke his cock hard enough to slip the condom on.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
You balance on shaky knees, sheathing him inside you in a slow descent. He wants to fuck up into you so badly. You can feel it in the way his hands squeeze on your hips, his stomach dips as you take more. Everything about Mingyu is big, including his cock. Big enough you could sit there all night and never get used to the stretch, or the way he whispers sweet praises into your temple.
Good girl. My favorite. Perfect for me.
When you finally bottom out, ass flat to his thighs, pressed tight to his chest, you whimper, “M-Mingyu.”
He groans into your cheek. “Love how you say my name.”
It’s all on you to make this good. You rock forward, instantly dissatisfied with the emptiness of your core and immediately moving to end the feeling. You grind on him and that feels better. He wedges deep and stays there; presses your buttons from the inside out as he mouths across your shoulder.
You’re so wet, soaked from his mouth, and his thumb takes advantage by gluing to your clit, tight circles that make you spasming. He guides you while nipping back up to your mouth, one hand heavy on your ass. 
“Oh, keep doing that,” he moans when your nails dig into his chest. 
The slap of skin against skin is background noise to grunts and groans and pathetic whines that meld between your mouths. Lightheaded, you aren’t even kissing, open mouths brushing against one another with narrowed vision. 
“Is it,” he gasps. “Is it bad if I ask you to turn around?”
“D-depends why you’re asking.”
“Wanna fuck you from behind. Wanna watch you take my cock.” He squeezes your ass to punctuate the request.
“Watch me like this.” You lean back, carefully to balance on the mattress and not his legs. Mingyu glues onto the unobstructed view down your front: your throat, your breasts, the way your cunt clings to his cock on the upstroke. “You like it?”
Hips finding a jilted rhythm, Mingyu snakes a hand up your chest and twists your nipple until you nearly collapse. “So good, it looks so good.”
“Next t-time,” you hiccup. “You can fuck me however you want. Want you to…fuck me from behind.”
He tugs the back of your neck. You collapse with the strength of his muscles and land nose to nose with him. 
“You’re so good— fuck, so tight for me. For me, yeah?”
You give a dumb nod, voice mute with the deep rhythm battering your walls.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
You can only nod again. Hair sticks to your sweaty face, a few rogue tears joining the mess Mingyu’s left on it.
“Say it, wanna hear you say it. Please.” He’s lost somewhere. Some desperate place that needs your validation.
You chant exactly what he wants to hear. Yours, yours, yours. A second duller bolt flashes through you, tensing every last muscle. Mingyu jolts from the tight squeeze gripping his cock. You give him the last sweep of your energy, bouncy wildly, fucking him quick and hard until your eyes cross.
“I’m—Mingyu, oh,” you whimper. You don’t stop even though your muscles object. Thrashing as you seize and come hot and wet. 
Mingyu’s got his hands to move you when your joints lock, a desperate race to his own end. He rubs you raw and red right to the core. You let him; still sobbing through the last pulses while he manhandles you over his cock roughly, slick with no resistance.
“Baby, fuck, feels so good,” he grovels, fucked out of his mind.
Your legs try to close, run away from the rush of even more stimulation, but Mingyu keeps you firmly pinned in place. He bites your neck, your shoulder, coming in thick breaths, hips stuttering while you sit there and take it. His fingers take advantage of the mess of your core but there's nothing left for you to give. Maybe later.
Mingyu gasps for air like he just did a deep dive. “Holy shit fuck.”
The touching doesn’t stop. You sweep your hands over his shoulders, cup his face, trace fingers of his stomach. Mingyu’s got one hand to keep you from pulling off his just yet, the other glued to the dip of your spine. Places forbidden to touch as just friends, now unlocked.
Condom in the trash, tissues for a quick clean up. You’re sticky in all the worst places but it’s a problem for later.
“So…when's our first date?” you ask him, cuddling back into the crook of his neck for the rest of the night.
“You. Me. Patty’s tomorrow morning.”
“Are you actually gonna pay for our food this time?”
Mingyu squeezes at your side, lips against your hairline. “You’re the one rolling in dough, Ms. Champion.”
“So I’m your sugar momma now?”
“That’s hot.”
The rebuttal dissolves on your tongue. You’re both deadweight. Sweaty and glowing in a pile of limbs, shivering beneath the ceiling fan. Mingyu is happy as your pillow, sweeping his hand over your back and hair as you crest sleep.
Turns out your room doesn’t get too hot with Mingyu sleeping in it if you’re both naked.
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taglist: @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi
@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts
@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially
@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy
@lukeys-giggle @aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee 
@bokk-minnie @cookiearmy
@AliceFortescue @moonlightwonu @Ateez-atiny380 @LexyRaeWorld @melonacco
@lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope @whrryuu
@wonrangwoo @xchaenx @nuttywastelandmentality @champagnenoona @kyeomofhearts
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2amriize · 3 days ago
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.ᐟ friend!RIIZE flirting with you ༉‧₊˚.
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req: I js discovered your blog and im obssesedddd😭 could you do riize as friends flirting with you on party and being very bold? thank youuu
pairing: friend!riize x reader —masterlist
⭑.ᐟ shotaro
Your group of friends had decided to throw a party to celebrate the end of your first year at university. The party was pretty crowded, and although you didn’t usually enjoy these events, you were having a good time. At one point, Shotaro, one of your closest friends, came over to talk to you, and the two of you spent a long time chatting while sipping your drinks. You weren’t sure if it was because the music was so loud or because Shotaro had had a bit too much to drink, but he kept moving closer to you, leaning in to your ear every time he wanted to say something. You didn’t expect him to place his hand on your hip and whisper:
"You look too good tonight, and you smell amazing... Should we find somewhere more private?"
.ᐟ eunseok
Since you arrived at the party, you’d been hanging out with your friend, dancing and having some drinks. The moment you noticed Eunseok watching you, you couldn’t stop wondering why he was staring. When your friend stepped away, Eunseok wasted no time approaching you to start a conversation, offering you a drink while his eyes swept up and down your figure. After a few seconds of silence, he brought his hand near his lips and said:
"Wow... I've been waiting all night to come up to you, and I don’t know if I can wait any longer to get even closer."
⭑.ᐟ sungchan
One of your friends suggested playing truth or dare during a small party your group had planned. After some time drinking, you all decided to make things more exciting with the game. The questions and dares grew increasingly bold, which made the situation even more interesting. You didn’t expect that one of the dares would result in you spending five minutes alone in a closet with Sungchan. It felt strange being so close to him, and you couldn’t help but notice how he was looking down at you.
"People will probably think we’re doing something in here..."
"I mean... I wouldn’t mind giving them something to talk about if it’s with you."
⭑.ᐟ wonbin
Although you’d known Wonbin for years and were part of the same friend group, the two of you had never really talked alone, so you didn’t know much about him. One night, your group decided to go to a nightclub together. You spent a long time dancing and drinking with your friends, but gradually, they began pairing off with others or heading off with their significant others. At one point, you stepped outside for some fresh air and ran into Wonbin. You ended up talking for a while about how it seemed like everyone had someone except for the two of you. After a moment of silence, he surprised you by saying:
"If we were together, everyone would be jealous of us... Don’t you think? I think we’d make a great couple."
⭑.ᐟ seunghan
You weren’t a big fan of parties, but Seunghan had spent weeks convincing you to attend one that a classmate was hosting, so you finally agreed. You didn’t plan to stay long, but at least you could keep Seunghan company for a while. When you arrived, you went over to him, and he offered you a drink. The two of you ended up talking for a long time. You were good friends and got along really well, but something about the way he was looking at you that night felt different. Every chance he got, he’d touch your cheek or your shoulder. When Seunghan stepped away to grab some snacks, a guy approached you to ask for your number. As soon as Seunghan returned and saw what was happening, he placed his hand on your arm and said:
"Hey, back off. I saw her first, she’s mine."
⭑.ᐟ sohee
It always surprised you how much Sohee’s personality changed after a few drinks. You were at a party he’d organized at his house, and although he was usually calm and adorable, just one drink made him outgoing and energetic, chatting with everyone. But for some reason, Sohee had stuck by your side all night. At one point, you stepped out into his garden to get some fresh air, and the two of you sat on the grass. After a few seconds, you noticed Sohee was staring at you.
"Mgh? Is something wrong Sohee?"
"I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or you, but my heart’s been pounding all night when I’m around you. I can’t stop looking at you, y/n."
⭑.ᐟ anton
Your friends had decided to celebrate the end of exams with a night out at a nightclub. You were with a big group, and you’d spent hours dancing and drinking with your friends. At one point, when you went to the bar for a drink, you ran into Anton, one of your friends. You chatted for a few moments while waiting for your drinks. Once they arrived, you turned to leave, but you felt Anton grab your hand. Confused, you turned back to face him. Pulling you closer and placing his hand on your arm, he leaned in and whispered:
"I’ve been watching you all night, y/n, and I need to know if I have a chance with you or if I should just pretend I’m not obsessed with you."
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masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess
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andikiramman · 19 hours ago
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your little girlfriend thinks i'm pretty
caitlyn x vi x maddie
word count: 5.7k
A/N: y'all i did it... but jsyk i started writing this before the finale so unfortunately this isn't the hate sex some of y'all were hoping for, but i mean if y'all really want it i wouldn't mind making it happen(◠‿◕)
MEN, MINORS, AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
Ever since Vi became an Enforcer, she knew that there’d be those that wouldn’t want her there. Entitled Pilties that think she’s leeching off the head of the Kiramman household for whatever stupid reason they came up with. Honestly, she was okay with that. She spent her entire life being judged and discriminated against by Topsiders; at this point, she really couldn’t give less of a fuck.
However, even she had her limits.
Vi barged into Caitlyn’s office (being the only one in the entire precinct with enough audacity to do so), kicking the door shut and plopping down in one of the chairs in front of Cait’s desk. She was visibly fuming, her arms crossed tightly in front of her as her leg bounced with agitation. 
Even though she wasn't looking at her directly, Vi knew Cait was watching her, waiting for her to justify her behavior.
“Cupcake, I’ve had it up to here with your little girlfriend, okay?!” Vi sneered.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes at that, sighing and dropping her pen onto the desk.
“Vi, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling her that? Maddie is not my girlfriend, you are!”
“Then can you please remind her so she can leave me the fuck alone?!”
Cait went silent for a moment as she took in Vi’s words.
“What do you mean by that? Has she been giving you problems?”
Vi scoffed. “Uh, yeah! I swear, ever since you broke things off with her, she keeps… staring at me!”
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “Staring…?”
“Yes, staring!” Vi repeated. “I swear, it’s like she has some sort of problem with me, or something!”
“And since when did you care if someone had a problem with you?” Cait frowned.
Vi prepared to say something, but she just sighed, rubbing her temple.
“Look, typically I really wouldn’t give a shit– I wouldn’t have even come to you if it were anyone else but, you know…”
Vi gave Caitlyn a genuine look, and she finally understood.
“Alright, I’ll… I’ll speak to Maddie myself, okay? I’ll see what’s going on.”
Vi nodded silently, standing up to leave. “Thanks, Cupcake.”
“Oh, and Vi?” Caitlyn called just before she left.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Vi smiled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “I love you too, Cupcake.”
Feeling a sense of relief, Vi opened the door, only for a body to come tumbling down from the other side.
Vi jumped back, her fists instinctively came up to shield her face, ready for a fight.
“What the- Maddie?!”
The junior officer brushed herself off, grabbing the beret that fell off her head and fixing it back on. “Oh, Vi… top o’ the morning…”
Cait silently observed in confusion, but at this point, Vi was enraged.
“Do you see what I mean?!” she shouted. “Why the fuck is she here?!”
Before Cait could offer an answer, Vi was picking up Maddie by her collar, the smaller woman’s feet dangling in the air as she yelped.
“What’s your fuckin’ problem with me, Nolen?” Vi questioned aggressively. “What is it about me that’s bothering you so damn much, huh?!”
Maddie spluttered, struggling to find an answer as she fought to find some sort of footing. 
“I don’t… I–”
At this point, Caitlyn was growing increasingly frustrated that she was being inhibited from completing her paperwork, so she decided to put an end to the shitshow immediately.
“That’s enough!”
Vi and Maddie both froze, turning their attention to the Sheriff.
“Vi, please put Junior Officer Nolen down, now.”
The redhead did just so, setting Maddie down gently (though she felt more inclined to just drop her).
“Maddie, close my door.”
Maddie gulped, wordlessly turning and closing the door to Caitlyn’s office.
“Now,” the sheriff sighed, clasping her hands together, “from what I understand, there seems to be some sort of dispute between the two of you.”
Maddie furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t have any problem with–”
“Yeah fuckin’ right!” Vi interrupted with a scoff. “Ever since Cait dumped you you’ve been eyeing me like I got something that belongs to you!”
Maddie blinked a few times, her cheeks starting to redden in a blush.
“I… I have?”
Vi rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that shit, Nolen. Every time I happen to glance your way, you’re staring right at me!”
Maddie averted her gaze as she began nervously playing with her fingers. “Oh…”
“Oh, so you’re not even gonna deny it?” Vi sneered, marching right up to Maddie and harshly grabbing her cheeks to turn her face back towards her. “What’s your fucking deal, Nolen?”
Maddie gasped, her blush spreading to the rest of her face. She gulped, seemingly steeling her resolve, before opening her mouth to speak.
“You’re pretty…”
A beat of silence.
“W-What…?”
Maddie took a deep breath in to cool herself down.
“I-I have to admit Vi… at first, I was kind of jealous of you. I guess at first, I really was glaring at you.”
Vi finally let go, taking a step back and raising her eyebrow. “But…?”
“But,” Maddie spoke again, fiddling with the edge of her shirt, “the more I watched you, the more I found myself becoming… attracted to you.”
Caitlyn was still eerily silent. She’d never imagined the scenario before her ever happening but she wasn’t going to complain about it, either. If she played her cards right…
“A-Attracted… to me?” Vi rasped out in shock. Her breathing became heavy, and she couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or anticipation.
Maddie nodded. “You… you’re very pretty, Vi. I never considered you to be my type but–” she turned to Caitlyn– “I see the appeal.”
Caitlyn said nothing as she looked between Maddie and Vi, letting her girlfriend attempt to handle this situation on her own.
After being paralyzed with shock, Vi finally let out a scoff, which turned into a chuckle. She stuck her hands in her pocket, slowly making her way over to Caitlyn’s chair.
“You hear that, Cupcake? Your little girlfriend thinks I’m pretty…”
Caitlyn side-eyed her, waiting for the redhead to continue.
“…So much so that she couldn’t keep her eyes off me for months. To top it all off, she even followed me to your office, for who knows why.”
Maddie gulped, keeping her eyes glued to the floor in front of her. She gasped when her chin was suddenly forced upwards, being met with Vi’s cloudy grey eyes.
“So now what, Nolen?” Vi muttered huskily. “You told us exactly how you feel, n’ you got us both right where you want us, so what now?”
Maddie’s breath quickened, her eyes dropping to Vi’s lips for a brief second before returning her gaze.
“I… I think this is something we could maybe talk about another time…?”
Before Vi could answer, Caitlyn stood, cutting the conversation short.
“You know what? Officer Nolen is right,” she announced. “Do keep in mind we are still on the clock.”
This time, Caitlyn allowed herself a slight smirk, turning her attention to Maddie.
“Maddie, why don’t you come pay us a visit tomorrow?” The taller woman offered. “I feel the relaxed environment would be more suitable for this sort of dilemma… how does that sound?”
Maddie, visibly stunned, stuttered for a moment, before finally finding a response.
“Uh… y-yeah, sure.”
🢝 🢝 🢝 🢝
“O-Oh fuck… Vi…”
The redhead simply hummed in response, her mouth occupied on Maddie’s neck. She alternated between kissing, biting, and sucking, anything to elicit those cute little sounds she’s been making since Vi got her hands on her. Vi’s hands in question were roaming Maddie’s body, shamelessly groping her ass as she pulled her ever closer.
The warmth building up within Maddie’s body was starting to grow unbearable, despite the slightly revealing spaghetti strap dress she currently had on (she had to admit, though she’d have no problems with simply coming over to talk, she prayed that her visit would lead to something a bit more… physical).
“Sure you don’t wanna join in, Cupcake?” Vi asked Caitlyn from the crook of Maddie’s neck. “I'm sure our little guest would enjoy her visit more if we both showed her a bit of hospitality…”
Oh my god, yes please! Maddie begged in her mind.
Caitlyn was currently seated on a chair efficiently placed in front of the bed, which happened to offer a splendid view of the two women making out on the mattress before her. She took a sip from the cup of tea she poured herself, humming at the sweet taste of organic raspberry leaf.
“I’m quite alright at the moment,” she respectfully declined, “I believe the two of you should spend some time working out your differences first. Though, I may feel more inclined to join a bit later on.”
Vi only shrugged before bringing her attention back to Maddie. She grabbed the smaller woman’s neck, pulling her in for a nasty kiss full of tongue. She swirled the muscle around Maddie’s own for a few seconds before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching out between their lips. 
“Why don’t you take this off for me, sweetheart?” Vi muttered as she tugged at Maddie’s dress.
Maddie nodded, wordlessly tugging her dress off of her body and tossing it to another part of the room. She nervously bit her lip when she noticed Vi’s teasing stare.
“Lace?” she questioned. “Oh, you really came here hoping to get fucked, huh?”
Maddie shrugged. “Guess there isn’t a point in denying it anymore, is there?”
The younger woman grabbed Vi’s face, pulling her in for another kiss as they fell back on the mattress. Vi growled into Maddie’s mouth, rough hands coming up to harshly palm at her breasts. A whimper turned into a gasp as black lace was torn apart, dusty pink nipples hardening as they were exposed to the cool air.
“Vi!”
Vi hummed as she kissed a trail down Maddie’s chest, the tip of her nose following the trail her lips left.
“Sorry, ‘m getting a bit impatient.”
Maddie let out a curse as she felt the wet warmth of Vi’s tongue envelop a nipple, her back arching off the bed as her legs wrapped around Vi’s waist.
“Fuck, so am I… just fuck me already…”
Vi scoffed, and Caitlyn simply offered an amused huff.
“Don’t think you can boss me around just ‘cause you’re getting what you want,” the muscled woman grumbled, punctuating her warning with a bite to Maddie’s breast.
Maddie yelped, her body flinching from the pain. Still, that didn’t stop her audacious behavior.
“What I want is for you to stop fucking talking so much and just eat me out or something!”
At that, Vi pulled away, sitting back on her heels as she glared at the ginger in front of her. Maddie, realizing she was a bit out of line, shrunk in on herself, her face turning a deep shade of red.
“P-Please…?”
Vi squared her jaw, before shaking her head and sighing. “Y’know, I see why Cait likes you so much,” she mused as she tugged Maddie’s black panties down her legs. She had half a mind to shove them into Maddie’s mouth, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, she grabbed Maddie’s thighs to pull her closer before holding her by the back of her knees to keep her legs spread open.
“It’ll be fun to get you off that damned high horse of yours.”
That was all that was said before Vi finally dove into her, her tongue tasting all that Maddie had to offer. She groaned as her tongue delved into Maddie’s hole, relishing in the sweet essence that was her arousal. And fuck, was there so much of it, the anticipation building up over the last two days keeping the woman soaked. Vi ate Maddie out like she was her last meal, her strong hands keeping Maddie’s legs firmly tucked against her chest.
Maddie, on the other hand, was absolutely losing her mind. She’s dreamed of this. Touched herself to the thought of this. Nothing, absolutely none of it, could’ve actually prepared her for the real thing. Vi was inexplicably good at giving head. Every time Vi decided to slip her tongue into her pussy, her nose nudged her clit, sending a hot jolt down her spine that had her thrusting her hips into Vi’s mouth. And when Vi decided to finally give attention to her aching clit— holy shit, it was like Maddie’s third eye opened, the pleasure alone had her feeling on top of the world. She kept one hand tangled in Vi’s hair and the other bunched in her own, sweet cries of pure bliss escaping her slacked jaw and spit-covered lips.
“Oh my– o-oh my god, fuck… Vi!”
Vi only responded with a whine of her own; she was clearly enjoying herself down there, eating Maddie simply for her own pleasure and nothing else.
Cait quietly watched the scene before her, one leg crossed over the other as she began pouring herself another cup of tea and adding a spoonful of sugar. Her scrutinizing blue eyes traced the curves of the women’s bodies, especially zeroing in on where Vi’s mouth moved diligently against Maddie’s core. It was as though she had front row seats to her own private show, everything on such clear display for her viewing pleasure. She couldn’t tell whether the warmth sizzling inside of her was from the tea or the two women making a mess on her bedsheets, but what she did know is that she’d feel the need to join them very soon. She pried her eyes away from the main event for just a moment to examine Maddie’s face. Her fucked out expression, her scrunched eyebrows, her eyes that were squeezed shut, the staccato breaths that left her lips… Maddie was going to cum, and very soon.
“Vi… Vi, please I’m so close… I’m, I– oh, ohfuck!”
Maddie clawed at the bedsheets as her orgasm rushed through her, her entire body quivering with the white-hot rush of ecstasy. Vi didn’t stop, though. She didn’t even slow down her ministrations against Maddie’s cunt. She ignored the sporadic twitching of her hips, Maddie’s whines from overstimulation, and even her unsuccessful attempts at closing her legs against Vi’s strong hands.
Maddie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as both of her hands tangled themselves in Vi’s hair. Her back arched with each insistent swipe of Vi’s tongue.
“Oh my– Vi, shit… Vi, I already, mmph oh my fucking–”
Maddie went tumbling headfirst into another orgasm, this one knocking the wind out of her. Yet, Vi didn’t stop, nor did she show any signs of stopping. The stimulation was bordering on overbearing at this point, and Maddie turned her head to Caitlyn in hopes that she could talk Vi out from between her legs.
“Oh, I’m sorry dear,” Caitlyn apologized, despite the obvious lack of sympathy in her voice, “Vi’s enjoying herself so much that I don’t believe she plans on stopping anytime soon.”
And Caitlyn could not have been more right in that moment. One, two, three orgasms later, and Vi was still devouring Maddie from the inside out. At this point, Maddie was barely present, her entire body going slack on the bed. Her eyes couldn’t even focus, and all she could muster at this point were pitiful whimpers.
“No…” she whined weakly. “Vi…”
Caitlyn let out an amused hum, grabbing her teapot in hopes to pour another cup of tea, only to find that it was completely empty. She tsked in annoyance, finally standing from her seat.
“Vi, be nice.”
At the sound of Cait’s authoritative voice, Vi finally lifted herself up from between Maddie’s legs.
“Just look at the poor thing,” Cait mumbled, “I fear you may have broken her.”
Vi put Maddie’s legs down, and the ginger woman immediately took the chance to squeeze them shut, whimpering a small fuck as she did so.
“‘S not my fault,” Vi grunted, “she was getting arrogant.”
“Oh yeah?” Cait challenged as she began stripping down herself, until she was left in just a camisole and panties. Her pebbled nipples poked through the sheer fabric, and Vi couldn’t help but lick her lips at the sight. Her eyes moved down, taking in the entirety of Cait’s lithe figure: her long legs, her gentle curves, and a face with looks that could kill.
Damn, how did she manage to get so lucky?
It was seductive, the way Caitlyn’s hips rocked as she stalked over to Vi. She cradled her girlfriend’s cheek before going in for a kiss, sweet yet deep and full of passion. Once they pulled away, Cait bit her lip, looking Vi’s up and down.
“Go get the strap, love,” she commanded softly.
At that request, Vi’s cheeks reddened in a blush. “You’re gonna let me…?”
Cair raised an eyebrow at Vi’s implication. “I believe you’re mistaken, dear. I plan on folding you up just like you had our friend here,” she clarified with a motion towards Maddie, who was laying with an arm slung over her eyes.
“Now hurry up and go get it,” Cait reiterated. “I’m feeling a bit… energized. In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s comfortable.”
Vi nodded rapidly as she stuttered out an affirmative. She was quick to scurry off the bed, going into their large walk-in closet in search of the toy and harness.
In the meantime, Cait made her way over to Maddie, signaling her presence with a soft brush of her hand.
“You okay, honey?” she hummed.
Maddie groaned, her arm falling away from her face.
“Vi is fucking insane…”
Caitlyn chuckled. “Vi’s a munch,” she corrected. “You were doomed from the second you told her to eat you out. Go on and get comfortable on the pillows, you can rejoin when you’re ready.”
With a grunt, Maddie moved herself up to settle on the mountain of pillows. Today was going to be a long day…
Vi came back just seconds later, the jet black toy in one hand, a harness and bottle of lube in the other.
“Good girl,” Caitlyn praised, taking the items from Vi and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I want you on your back.”
“Yes ma’am,” Vi replied, finding her place on the bed and resting back on her elbows. She could feel Maddie’s eyes on her, probably admiring her physique. She ignored her, instead focusing on Cait tightening the harness on her hips and strapping up.
When Cait finally turned her attention to her, Vi’s throat immediately went dry. The sight of the strap-on sitting perfectly on her hips had her body firing up from the inside out. Cait mounted the bed, crawling towards Vi until she was in between her spread legs.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” Caitlyn muttered sensually, “all ready for me…”
Vi swallowed the lump in her throat, but all that came out was a strained whimper. Cait grabbed Vi’s calves and placed them on her shoulders, leaning in closer until their bodies were flush against each other. Vi let out a gasp as she felt the tip of the dildo run through her folds, and Cait hummed in response.
“Fuck, you’re so wet, Vi… Maddie’s got you all riled up, doesn’t she?”
Vi’s ears blushed a deep shade of red, and she turned away from Cait’s lingering stare. Cait bit her lip at Vi’s sudden shyness, deciding to tease her by grinding her hips forward. Vi squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth falling open at the toy catching against her clit.
“Fuck… Cait, please…”
Caitlyn smirked. “Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.”
Cait pushed her hips forward again, and this time the dildo went inside, stretching Vi out with each inch that gradually slipped into her.
“H-Holy shit, Cupcake,” Vi whimpered once it was all the way in. The position Cait had her in had the dildo reaching so fucking deep, it was like she could feel it in her stomach.
Caitlyn slowly pulled back a few inches, before snapping her hips forward again. Vi cried out in response, rough hands coming up to grab Cait’s shoulders.
“Please! Holy fuck, Cait, I need you to fuck me please!” she whined in desperation.
Caitlyn chuckled. “Gods, I love when you beg for me, Vi…”
Cait decided to give Vi exactly what she wanted, setting a brutal pace with the strap and being sure to bury herself to the hilt each time. She knew she was fucking Vi good, too, the redhead’s eyes glazing over as sweet whimpers and gasps escaped her lips. Fuck, what Cait would give to be able to feel Vi’s pussy in this moment. She’d stay here forever, just buried in Vi’s warmth.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so damn good, Vi,” Cait growled huskily as she roughly grabbed Vi’s face. Vi’s eyes finally focused (barely), and she keened at the sight of Cait above her.
“Mmh, shit, Cait you’re– oh fuck– you’re in my stomach,” Vi slurred in between loud moans.
“Is that right?” Cait teased. “This pussy can get so fuckin’ deep, huh?”
Vi nodded rapidly. “Mmh, yeah…”
Meanwhile, Maddie watched the scene before her like a hawk. Vi and Caitlyn… it was so rough, yet so intimate. She never thought Vi would be the type to beg, nor be the one to let someone pin her down and strap her the way she was, but since it was Caitlyn, she guessed that anything was possible. She had to admit, even though she wasn’t currently included, the two of them fucking like this was so hot. She swallowed, bringing a hand down to rub light circles against her clit. Her hips twitched; she was still a bit sensitive, but growing more aroused the longer she observed the couple in front of her. She used her other hand to pinch a nipple, rolling the rosy bud between her fingers at the same time. She let out a soft whine, the light pleasure she was giving herself had her rolling her hips against her hand. Shit, I wanna get fucked like that…
“Open your fucking mouth,” Caitlyn growled, and Vi did just so, allowing the taller woman to spit onto her tongue. Vi swallowed, opening her mouth again to show off her obedience.
“Good girl,” Cait muttered, leaning down to press her lips against Vi’s as she fucked her harder and faster.
“Ooh– oh Cait, Cait, Cait, fuck!”
Caitlyn groaned against Vi’s lips, not daring to stop her brutal pace for even for a second. 
“A-Ah, Caaaait, Cait, I’m so close, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Vi screamed. Just seconds later, she was cumming, her strong legs locking Caitlyn in place as the rest of her body shivered violently with her release. After a few moments, Cait finally slowed down, leaning back and letting Vi’s legs drop to the bed below her.
“Fuck, you did such a good job,” Cait praised, pulling out of Vi to reveal the slicked up toy, drenched in Vi’s arousal. “You took me so well.”
Vi sniffled as she came down from her high. “T-Thank you…”
Caitlyn smiled down at her, so genuine and loving, before turning her attention to Maddie.
“You. Come here.”
Maddie, taken aback at the sudden shift, was stuck in place for a moment. The way Caitlyn watched her, one hand on her breast, the other in between her legs, she suddenly felt so… exposed.
“I don’t have all day, you know.”
At that, Maddie scrambled forward, until she was face to face with the Sheriff herself. Caitlyn grabbed her, kissing her in a similar fashion to the way Vi did earlier. It was nasty, sloppy, and full of tongue. To top it all off, Caitlyn started sucking on Maddie’s tongue, making the younger woman shiver with arousal. Before she could get too comfortable, however, Caitlyn pulled away. This time, she grabbed her roughly, positioning Maddie on her hands and knees right on top of Vi. Maddie gasped, now right in between the two, her heart was pounding at a mile a minute. She felt hands on her waist, which caused her to jump a little, before hearing snickering coming from below her.
“What’s wrong? You’re so jittery all of a sudden,” Vi teased. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Mads? Both of us…?”
Maddie gulped, letting Vi wrap her hand around her neck and pull her down for a kiss. It was slow, sensual, missing all the roughness from earlier. She could feel Caitlyn touching her, her slender fingers dipping in between her legs and inside of her. Maddie moaned against Vi’s lips, rocking her hips in tandem with Cait’s fingers. Vi’s free hand was aimlessly roaming her body, feeling the goosebumps along her back, the dip of her waist, and the swell of her ass. She could easily get lost in this letting the two women touch and play with her body however they pleased.
Then, she felt Caitlyn’s fingers leave her, only to be replaced by something much thicker. She gasped, turning around to look at Cait.
“Caitlyn…”
“I know how you are, Maddie,” Cait warned. “Don’t bother trying to run.”
With that, Caitlyn slowly pushed in, stretching Maddie out on the toy. Though it was well lubricated with Vi’s own release, it was still a tight fit.
“Oh my god!” Maddie cried. “Caitlyn, that’s too big!”
She tried lifting her hips forward to alleviate the pressure, but Vi was quick to stop her, using her strength to keep her in place.
“Didn’t she just say not to run?” Vi muttered. “Gonna disobey the sheriff?”
Before Maddie could muster a reply, Caitlyn was pushing forward again, gripping Maddie’s hips tightly to make sure she didn’t try moving. Maddie’s jaw dropped, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she was stretched to the limit. Her head was spinning; the toy was hitting every spot inside of her. When Cait finally bottomed out, Maddie felt a shiver run up her spine, tears welling in the corners of her eyes from the stretch.
“Aw, don’t cry,” Vi taunted. “You’re taking it so well, Mads.”
Maddie whined, sharp nails digging into Vi’s broad shoulders as Caitlyn started a slow pace, sheathing herself completely with each deep thrust. Maddie couldn’t help but try to pull away each time the tip kissed her cervix, but Caitlyn made sure to keep her in place so she wouldn’t go too far.
“Fuck,” Caitlyn groaned from behind her. She could see everything from her angle: Maddie’s walls fluttering around her cock as she tried to accommodate the size, strings of Maddie’s arousal stretching out between her pussy and Cait’s hips each time she pulled out, Vi tangling a hand in Maddie’s hair as the pair in front of her sloppily made out, one of Maddie’s own hands slipping between Vi’s legs to play with her clit; the straps of the harness rubbing oh so well against her clit wasn’t making her situation any better. Shit, if she didn’t make Maddie cum before she did, she wouldn’t be able to fuck her the way she’d liked.
Caitlyn quickened her pace, fucking Maddie with short and deep thrusts that had the sound of skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. Her nails dug into Maddie’s waist, pulling the woman’s hips back to meet her with each push forward.
Maddie pulled away from Vi’s lips to look back at Cait.
“Fuck… Caitlyn you’re so deep…”
“Takin’ her like a fuckin’ champ,” Vi replied before Cait could, grabbing Maddie’s hair and pulling her back to her lips.
Caitlyn huffed, breaking her gaze away from the two women to focus on the strap fucking into Maddie. She was dripping onto the sheets at this point, and the dildo had a white ring around it.
“Damn it,” she grunted under her breath. She slowed her pace down, giving herself a chance to come down before she reached her peak too soon. 
Maddie whined against Vi’s lips, pushing her hips back as a wordless plea for more. Cait smacked her ass in reply, causing the ginger to yelp.
“You really are an impatient one, aren’t you?” Cait grumbled. “If you want to finish this prematurely, just say the word. I can grant you that request.”
Vi chuckled, pulling Maddie away from their kiss.
“Aw, you’re being so hard on her, Cupcake.” Vi grinned as she took in Maddie’s expression, heavy with unabashed desire, lips wet and bruised from their harsh kissing. “You’re fucking her so good, and she just wants more, isn’t that right, Mads?”
Maddie nodded, a strained sigh escaping her lips.
“Mmh, I can give you that… say aah…”
Vi slipped two fingers deep into Maddie’s mouth, biting her lip when she gagged on them. Vi didn’t leave them in there for long, pulling her fingers out and smirking when a string of saliva stretched out from her lips. Then, she slipped her hand down Maddie’s back and right in between her ass cheeks, using one of her fingers to circle the place Maddie’s never been touched before. Maddie gasped into the crook of Vi’s neck, whimpering as the redhead’s finger continued rimming her ass.
“Yeah, you like that, huh?” Vi smirked. “Wonder if you’d even let me put it inside…?”
It was only a taunt, a teasing suggestion, but the way Maddie reacted to the possibility of having a finger in her ass turned it into a reality.
“Please,” she begged. “P-Put it in, Vi, please!”
Vi scoffed. “You’re something else, you know that, Nolen?”
Cait leaned forward just a bit, letting a dribble of spit fall right onto Maddie’s pucker. Vi teasingly pressed her middle finger against her, until Maddie pushed her hips back once more, showing that she really did want this.
Vi didn’t make her wait any longer, slowly pushing her middle finger into Maddie’s ass, right down to the knuckle. Maddie keened, her nails digging into Vi’s shoulders. At the same time, Cait gradually picked up her pace, fucking her pussy while Vi fingerfucked her ass.
Fuck, Maddie was on Cloud 9 right now. She couldn’t even think straight, the dual stimulation making her absolutely melt from pleasure. She was letting out incoherent babbles into Vi’s shoulder, completely unable to form full sentences. Suddenly, she felt a harsh hand tangle in her hair, and she was being pulled upwards. She had to hold herself up with her own hands, whimpering at the stinging sensation on her scalp. It was Cait’s hand, using her grip on Maddie’s hair to fuck her harder, deeper.
“I can’t believe one of my own subordinates turned out to be such a slut,” she huffed. “Letting Vi stick her finger in your ass? Needing both of us to satisfy you? You’re just insatiable, aren’t you?”
Maddie couldn’t even reply, each thrust of Cait’s dick and Vi’s finger knocking the wind out of her.
“Just look at her, Cupcake, she’s fucking addicted,” Vi added, “won’t be surprised if she starts following us around like some lost puppy.”
Maddie should’ve felt insulted, she really should’ve… but the couple was right. Her tryst with Caitlyn was quite enjoyable while it lasted, but having both of them… ‘fucking amazing’ couldn’t even begin to describe it.
Vi’s free hand snaked between Maddie’s legs to play with her clit, and it was over for her.
“Haa… I-I’m gonna cum!”
Maddie’s orgasm was powerful, so much so that she ended up squirting and soaking the bed sheets (and Vi) with her release. She trembled violently, wave after wave of aftershocks had her body pulsating. Caitlyn let go of her hair, and Maddie slumped against Vi’s chest, eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to catch her breath. Vi slipped her finger out, using both hands to massage Maddie’s waist.
Caitlyn, however, was not finished. After staving off her own orgasm for so long, she was right at the edge of release. She leaned over Maddie, grinding against her ass despite her weak whines of protest.
“Just take it Mads,” Vi shushed, “Let her cum first, she’s almost there.”
Maddie started to sob from overstimulation, one of her hands reaching back to grasp onto Caitlyn’s leg. Cait ignored her, squeezing her eyes shut as she only focused on getting herself over the edge. Her hips stuttered the closer she got, and she lost her rhythm, but soon she was groaning with bliss, her orgasm washing over her. She fucked herself through her orgasm until she physically couldn’t take it anymore, and she pulled the dildo out of Maddie with a slick ‘pop!’
Maddie slumped forward, dropping her hips to rest her entire weight on Vi. Caitlyn, on the other hand, slumped onto the mattress, silently catching her breath. 
“Well, that was fun…” Vi finally spoke after a while.
Caitlyn hummed, her lips forming into a tired smile. “Certainly…”
“What about you, Mads?” Vi asked the woman on her chest, only to be met with silence.
“Maddie…?”
Nothing but soft snores left Maddie’s lips, and Vi let out a soft chuckle. 
“Well, what do you know, we fucked her right to sleep.”
Caitlyn lifted herself up onto her elbow, resting her head in her hand. “I’m glad she enjoyed herself.”
Very gently, Vi turned to lay Maddie on the bed, before standing up. She put a hand out to Cat, who took it to stand as well. She helped Caitlyn take off the strap-on, even though she could very well remove it on her own.
“Let’s get cleaned up.”
As their legs were still feeling the effects of their long fuck session, even the short walk to the bathroom had the couple walking funny.
“To be honest, I’m glad we did this,” Vi said as she turned on the warm water. “But y’know… really is a shame I didn’t get to eat you out myself…”
Cait was silent for a moment, her heart beating loudly in her chest at the flagrant suggestion. With a sigh, she poked her head out of the bathroom door, noting that Maddie was still fast asleep, before shutting the two of them in.
“Make sure you don’t wake her up,” Cait muttered, as Vi was already descending to her knees.
“Well, that’s all up to you, now isn’t it?”
okay so what did y'all think...? was it bonita?
83 notes · View notes
kkuzushi · 20 hours ago
Note
May I request a Popular kid Scaramouche x Nerd reader (basically a power bottom scaramouche)
Also can I be 🐀anon
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“ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 ”
✦ characters: powerbottom!Scaramouche x amab!reader
✦ cw: no nut November, college setting, academic rivals (sort of), handjob (receiving & giving), slight praising but mostly humiliation, riding
✦ word count: 2.549k
✦ notes: I’m inexperienced with writing power bottoms so this took some time, I hope I did it right despite being more used to sub-bottom characters. Welcome to my blog as well, 🐀 anon! <3
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You sat cross-legged on the couch, your laptop opened and displaying an earlier announcement. The debate competition you had joined was held today and your opponent? It was no other than the confident and quick-witted Scaramouche. However he was no match to you as always—when it comes to academics, you were simply 1% better, and that’s on being humble.
In your dorm, there was another competition being held. A staring contest between you and Scaramouche, both engulfed in silence. He glared at you, most likely sulking in his defeat.
“Fine.” Scaramouche sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “You won, enjoy while it lasts.” His voice was laced with irritation and amusement. It’s not like he’ll deny that you did good but he won’t admit you were better.
You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.
You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.
Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.
You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.
He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”
You blink, “Lose what?”
Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.
“Since you made me lose–”
“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.
He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.
You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.
“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.
You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.
Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.
Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?
“You don’t dare–”
“Oh but I do.”
Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.
Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.
Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.
He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.
The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.
The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.
You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.
But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.
And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.
Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.
His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.
Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.
“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.
Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.
“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.
As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.
He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.
There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.
Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.
Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.
Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.
Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”
“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.
“Fuck– Scara, wait–”
“Gonna cum already?”
“No! That’s not–..”
It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.
After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.
The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.
“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”
You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.
Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”
Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.
The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.
He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.
Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.
Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”
Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”
Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.
“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.
His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.
“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.
You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.
"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.
With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.
The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.
As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.
“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.
Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.
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melancholicstation · 2 days ago
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FRAT!JACK SCHLOSSBERG SFW AND NSFW HEADCANONS
imagining COLLEGE SWEETHEART!READER who loves the outdoors, is the best in her harvard polo team, is a criterion channel SNOB, spencer hasting's archetype, vacations in miami, aspen, ibiza and saint tropez, is the president of many student clubs, buys hermēs blankets for the dogs kennel blanket and keeps an elegant stack of erotic, cheesy novellas under her .
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tags: @obsessedwithjohnjr @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl
fyi: I have not edited this nor looked over it too closely so if there's spelling/grammar mistakes je m'excuse please!!
you cross each other's paths at institut le rosey in year 13 because you guys are unfortunately wealthy teenagers of highly successful family dynasties so it'd be sacrilegious to go anywhere else... where else would they go to get their educational chops that they can brag about at dinner parties?
super rich kids by frank ocean is both of your respective spotify wrapped no.1 song
you guys don't formally meet until harvard law school
always immediately goes to you for any fraternity parties where they need to be all gussied up for it and whines until you do his makeup... and of course he wants you to use your expensive chanel, byredo, chantecaille make up
jack uses your own la perla thongs as bookmarks to keep track of a certain page in a law textbook when studying at your place cause he left all his stationary at home
when you both found each other you guys were both in your slut era and weren't looking for anything serious
tries to make you beef tartar in the confines of your tiny dorm like this one chick on tiktok does in her bed
after a couple days of not seeing each other jack comes back with little gifts and trinkets cause he has the instinct to gather in his bones, baby!
you both eat like a 17th century king despite being college students
classes were cancelled for a day due to a particularly aggressive blizzard that sought to reek havoc on anyone in its path--or in this instance trying to get to their econ major on time for once so you two are held up in your dorm end up watching 'secretary' (2002), one thing leads to another and you and jack's have ended up recreating this scene except jack is lee... and the saddle is an old hermēs vivace jumping saddle that you got for an early christmas present one year back (something like this) and the carrot is slightly dirty cause its been in your farmers market tote since your last run to whole foods... but you both enjoy it all the same cause you guys are F.R.E.A.K.I.S.H.
he has a very intense samurai sword obsession to the point where his dorm closet holds all the medals he won for the best sword in local competitions... and gets extremely territorial if you want a drawer in his closet cause where are the synthetic fabric medals supposed to go??
always buys you lingerie whenever ssense has a sale
you both buy each other maison margiela shoes for a joint graduation present from law school
you both always have a ritual of buying mint and lavender lemonade at different harvard athletic games
you guys broke up briefly during mid term hell-week and you genuinely observed him re-connecting with nature in the harvard yard to ease his anguish
you guys practice parenthood by adopting a few sylvanian families and putting them in a house
your matching boat n' totes (top: yours bottom: jack)
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on holiday break from college you guys go on so many sketchy facebook marketplace hunts to the point where jack films with his phone just for evidence purposes
your dream that makes you crash out over imessage to jack:
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NSFW UNDER THIS CUT 🧵✂️
he definitely wears a hat while you guys are fucking making beautiful sensual love
foreplay is stimulating conversations with jack
as foreplay you make jack recreate that one cmbyn timothee chalamet scene with the peach
eroticising studying and giving each other orgasms when you've memorised a topic correctly
two beers at a beer garden and you guys are in each others pants immediately. stat!
they are delicately perverted
he loves giving you some clavicle kisses... like that is his shit!
jack loves to be lightly tapped with the hermēs crop but he'd never admit it what?? who said that??
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awwitschuu · 8 hours ago
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THE SECRET DESIRES OF A HUNTER
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☆*:.。 as a hunter of your caliber, you’ve sworn to serving and protecting your community from the likes of wanderers and those that’s don’t hold Linkon City’s interest at heart… but there are things that you yourself want as well…
note from chuu: i found this in my docs and wanted to rework it and sylus needs to be fucked so! here we are lmaoo!! wc is about 1.1k no minors and no ageless blogs pls n thanks!!
cw: groping (breasts), f! reader, titty sucking, clit pinching, sylus refers to himself as “papa” (twice), calls reader princess, missionary to mating press, hint of oral (f! receiving)
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as a hunter, your duty is to protect and serve for the greater good of linkon city. fighting and slaying the likes of corrupted wanderers, going underground and gathering information that could disrupt the fabric of the community you hold dear. as a hunter, you hold a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, you’re to set an example for those looking to fill your shoes once you’re one with the universe. at times you enjoy what you do, but you can’t help but to have certain…needs.
you’re always protecting and defending, but at the end of the day who is going to do the same for you? who’s going to satisfy your wants and desires when you find yourself alone at night, that specific hunger pooling deep in your core as you try to satiate it yourself…that is until you met the annoyingly charming silver haired leader of onychinus with a lust for blood. and you.
he always manages to toy with you at your most vulnerable. sylus has you sat in his lap, broad chest pressing against your back as he snakes his hands under your thin lace camisole. his calloused palms once covered in blood now eclipsing your bra. “you’re squirming, something wrong?” he purs teasingly. “your hands…” you sigh softly, anticipating his touch as he slips the cups of your bra off to reveal your breasts. “what about my hands? you don’t like it when i touch you like this?”
sylus takes his time with you, eating up the way you whine for his touch, the pathetic look in your glazed over eyes begging for him to do something, anything!
he finally makes contact with your supple skin, massaging the softness of your tits meticulously and brushing against your pebbled nipples. “i can stop, just say so”. he nips at the shell of your ear, groaning and whispering his darkest desires for you. you really can’t help but melt into the palms of his hands, your thighs pushing and rubbing together as you try to satiate that need building in your core. you’ve been craving this kind of attention, hungry for his touch and that feeling of pleasure he pulls out of you every time the two of you are alone.
“poor thing, panties probably soaked” he chuckles deeply, continuing his assault groping your tits and tugging at your sensitive nipples. “you just needed papa to take care of you” he whispers before pinching a little harder, smiling devilishly as you writhe in pure ecstasy. “t-took you long enough” you whine, pout melting as you succumb to the pleasure.
he has you on your back now, crowding your space as he slots himself in between your supple thighs. sylus takes a nipple into his mouth, slowly sucking on the sensitive peak as he massages the other in his hand. his tongue is hot and sticky, swirling around the puffy bud until he takes it into his mouth, sucking until he releases with a pop. whines for him leave your pretty lips, your hands gripping at his bicep. he smirks at you as his thumb rubs small circles around your nipple. “tell me what you need, princess.”
you need him where it aches most, you’re tired of being toyed with, tired of waiting. locking your legs around his waist, you stare him in the eyes with a seriousness and hunger he hasn’t seen from you. “s-stop toying with me and fuck me already!” the sexual tension that smothered the atmosphere of the room thickened, so still and quiet you could hear a pin drop.
with a swiftness sylus now has your legs thrown over his shoulders and your hands held over your head. his eyes are a radiant crimson red and his voice is lowered and rasped. “and here i was trying to be a gentleman,” he rips your panties to the side, revealing your soaked cunt. spreading your slick folds, he rubs your clit before pinching it, ripping a squeal from you. “meanwhile you just wanted to be fucked stupid, is that it?” before you can spit back an insult, the tip of his cock pushes through tight rings of muscle until he’s in fully.
you gasp in shock as his hips move at a rapid rhythm, cock pumping in and out of your sloppy cunt as you moan and writhe from the intensity. he pushes your legs back to your chest, large hands gripping your pillowy thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t help that you’re sucking him in, velvety feel of your heat welcoming every inch of him. “mmm she needed this huh?” he groans, bending down to leave pretty blotchy marks on your neck. “you can hear how much she needed papa to take care of her, listen.” he stops talking and slows his thrusts so that the only sound is the lewd squelch every time he pushes in and out. “she’s got so much to say.”
the way he refers to your cunt like you’re not even in the room should have pissed you off… but your mind is clouded with every stroke. his condescending timbre unfortunately excites you, your pussy tightening anytime he teases you. you can feel yourself getting close, each stroke massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves within you. you stammer over your words and whine as your fingers fumble to play with your clit. the added sensation sending you over the edge as you moan louder, the high pitched cry at the end shushed with a sloppy kiss. sylus continues fucking into you, biting at your tongue and puffy lips like a starved animal.
“cum on it, that’s it. fuck!” he groans into your mouth as you mewl into his. euphoria radiates in your core until it finally bursts, shooting waves of pleasure through your body from your toes to your fingertips. you’ve never felt this kind of high, so overwhelming that you can’t help to babble mindlessly. “c-cumming! w-wait!” but it’s fallen on deaf ears, sylus himself lost in pleasure continues thrusting into you until he’s bored with the position. “awn now don’t give me that, i know you have one more in you.” he’s quick, turns you over so that your face is in the sheets and your ass is in the air.
you’d be lying if you told him you didn’t. you wanted more, the adrenaline rush so intoxicating that your fingers spread your slick folds for him without a thought. “d-don’t just gawk at it, either stick it in or eat it…” you weakly demand, whining as you start to play with your buzzy clit. sylus can’t help but laugh, you’re so cute when trying to assert yourself. it’s laughable that you said either, he thinks to himself as he spreads your pussy with his thumbs. he plans on ruining you the entire night, everything from devouring your sweet cunt to fucking you in every position imaginable until sunrise. but you don’t have to know that, before he’s nose deep he bites at your thigh. “yes ma’am.”
☆*:.。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆thank you for reading! if you enjoyed feel free to like, reblog and or comment! send an ask if you want, i don’t bite :3!
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cripplecharacters · 2 days ago
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Hey folks, fully abled writer here! I've got a question about nicknames/descriptive names related to physical differences and abilities. I write a lot of fantasy fiction with differing name and language systems than the real world. I'm also fond of using compound names, such as "Dawnbringer, Hardcutter, Bluemark, Bearhunter, etc." So in a fantasy world where much of this society has given names and clan surnames following a specific theme of strength and durability, I have a character that has both his given name but also a nickname many people call him. This nickname is "Firebrand," and I invented him many years ago when I wasn't very critical of my writing or biases and just wanted a cool-sounding fantasy name. He is is a city guard in a city that is regularly attacked by fantasy animals for plot and environment-related reasons, and as I developed this character more I decided that rather than his original dark edgy backstory where he was called Firebrand because he was tortured, he now gains the name Firebrand because he survived a dragon's fire breath and came out of it with burn scars up his chest neck and arms, particularly on his hands that limits some of his movement and dexterity. I intend to make it clear in the story that it isn't a derogatory name, it's part of their society's theme of having names that signify how people survive things.
He likes the nickname and the meaning it has in his culture, because to him it means he's good at his job and he has survived hard times. Right now, the story is told through third-person P.O.V, and he is primarily referred to in non-dialogue narration as his nickname. In dialogue, he usually introduces himself with his given name and surname, but many people including the rest of the city guards refer to him with the nickname . His family and boyfriend will use either name for him depending on the context and company. At a later point in the story, when he and some others end up in a situation where they are dealing with fairies and the magical rules about giving them your name, his nickname gives him an advantage against the fairy rules.
Is this a reasonable concept at all, or is it all very weird to use an injury and acquired physical difference to identify someone with? Or, if the concept is alright but the name itself is bad, do you have any suggestions for how I might want to come up with a different nickname? I'm thinking if the use of the word "brand" in the nickname has too much of a negative connotation, I could try to replace it with something like "Firehand" or "Firebrave" that might have a clearer positive connotation to readers as well as his in-story society.
And although it's not the purpose of this question, I have been doing research about burn scars and treatment; this blog has been helpful! Since the burns were deep and he has limb tremors and cramps as well as scars, he has exercises and ointments to keep his scarred skin flexible, and he takes care not to take long tasks that will strain his hands with fine motor skills or whatnot. When on duty, his uniform includes gloves and a high collar for protection, but in casual clothing his hands are bare and his clothing doesn't hide his scars unless it's for weather protection. I may come back in the future with more questions about that, but I've determined what I need to start with about the physical effects his injuries have on him.
Thank you, and I hope you're all having a good day!!
Hello!
This sounds fine and pretty cool to me. The most important part is that the name isn't intended to be derogatory and that he actually likes it.
As a different disability-related example, "Wheels" and all its variants is a surprisingly common nickname that wheelchair users use (mostly younger guys). Sometimes you have a few of these dudes in one group and three people look at you when you try to call for one of them, it's just a fun nickname. Could it also be a cartoon-bully level derogatory insult if it was used for a character that hates it? 100%. It's very context dependent.
That's the same sentiment that's crucial here I think. Your character likes it and is proud of it? Go ahead. It makes sense in his cultural background and his nickname falls under a similar naming convention so it fits. I like the mention of how it reminds him that "he has survived hard times", since it's something that I've heard from burn survivors who explain why they choose "survivor" over "victim" to refer to themselves.
To answer your actual question: yes, I think it's a reasonable concept that makes sense in the character's setting. In another context yeah, it could be weird to identify with an acquired physical difference like that, but other people will do it anyway, you could as well make it "yours" and be proud of it, wear it as a positive. I don't think it's something that is an automatic "no" even if kinda weird. I'd go case-by-case and in your character's case it seems great.
As for the actual name, I agree that "brand" does have a negative connotation in English, all the criminal/cattle/label associations are less than ideal. I don't think it's detrimental to the concept like some other potential nicknames could be (looking at all the No-Faces and Half-Faces, which I do think are strictly derogatory) but if changing it to something less loaded wouldn't be an issue I'd probably do that. Both -hand and -brave are pretty awesome (the latter kinda reminds me of a warrior cat name but that's definitely a me problem), since they're either neutral or very positive in their connections.
Personally I care more about the fact that you're researching your character thoroughly, don't think that him being a burn survivor comes with some intrinsic negative traits, nor seem to put him in one of the Four Boxes. That's more important than terminology and vice versa - one could use the most up-to-date correct terms to refer to their OC and still make them into an offensive nightmare with bad execution. It doesn't mean that specific words aren't important but they (generally) aren't what breaks or makes representation that people want to see.
You seem to be doing good: my advice is to rethink the -brand part due to its connotations, and just keep researching as you write him.
Hope this helps,
mod Sasza
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captain-pheonix · 3 days ago
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Hello. I will call you Phoenix because that sounds very cool and you are cool and I platonically like you and enjoy your works.
Anyways I have come to request an all mercs + Pauling if you’re comfortable and want to write that. (If not maybe just Medic +whoever else you want to write for.) with a reader who has Schizophrenia? I’ve been going through some moments with it and the TF2 mercs are my comfort characters and your blog just feels nice.
If you aren’t comfortable with this feel free to block me or just ignore this ask entirely! Thank you very much!
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A/n: GAHHH ILY PLATONICALLY TOO 🫶 ty for sending in a request, I’m so glad you enjoy my works! I try my best! I made sure I did some more extensive reasearch about schizophrenia/the real experience with it before I wrote this, please let me know if I should make some edits! (And other ppl reading this, also don’t be afraid to send an ask about making edits!)
Mercs + Pauling w/ reader w/ Schizophrenia (headcannons)
(Platonic or romantic!)
Pauling:
- will have some guilt about how she works all the time and can’t be there for you
- might send some gifts and call you in between jobs/travel, asking how you’ve been, asking if now was a good time or if you needed a distraction
- as soon as she gets the chance to come see you, she takes it
- asks over and over if you’re okay, because it’s been keeping her anxious on her jobs
- she’ll comfort you with sweet words over the phone if you call her for help
- reminds you to take your meds
Scout:
- absolutely clueless
- buys into stereotypes
- “the voices” type shit
- this guy is gonna need a thorough explanation as to how you feel all the time
- probably asks you how you’re feeling all the time too
- might be a little too quick to do his sneak-attack hugs
- likes hugging you a lot, so that could offer some grounding if you’re having delusions/hallucinations
- words of affirmation 10/10
- expect a lot of words…
- speaking of a lot of words, need an auditory distraction? The scout-o-matic is here! (Only $69.99)
Soldier:
- clueless prick
- thinks you’re some spy or something
- it might take the entirety of the team to convince him otherwise and try to explain it to him with your help
- might also buy into the stereotypes
- if you say you hear or see something that man is going to run around screaming with his shovel trying to chase them off for you (believes they’re real, but only you have magic powers to see them or something)
Medic:
- #1 meds administer
- does not buy into stereotypes, since he may know something about it
- (fw researching you heavy)
- dude is taking notes as you’re straight up not having it
- jk he goes to comfort you if he can after a bit
- you WILL be staying in the infirmary with him (sorry I don’t make the rules)
- will look into techniques to help you
Demo:
- you already know he’s offering alcohol to take the edge off/distract
- you have tried many times to tell him that that will not work
- if you had alcohol with your meds things would not end well
- offers himself as a napping space for being really exhausted (I’d take him up on that)
- he might already be passed out when you go to ask if you two can nap
- might wanna just scootch in there
Heavy:
- will protect you from the bad things (or at least try)
- if someone hurt pookie that’s no good it will not do
- offers protective bear hugs if you need something/somewhere/someone to cuddle up to and be distracted/grounded
Pyro:
- if you’re describing what you see to them, or have in the past, they might try to draw them with good old fashioned crayons and printer paper
- also schizophrenic 😭
- huge empathy from them
- but uhm they might also just straight up not know they’re schizophrenic, so bro could just be like “same”
- alright enough Gen z talk from me (there can never be enough)
- even if just hanging out with them makes you feel more comfortable
Sniper:
- probably feels bad for you
- opts to hang out indoors if hallucinations/delusions are not fun outside
- comforts you when you think you see or hear something
Spy:
- if he’s attempting to be subtle you might expect some noise cancelling headphones and other helpful tools show up at your door
- if you need a break from certain rooms he’s definitely gonna offer his smoking room
- gets you pill organizers for your meds if that’s something you struggle with
- offers lots of gentle comfort
- let’s be honest, this guy was clueless before you started talking to him about it and what it was
- now he just wants to offer help
Engie:
- probably pities you a bit
- gives you that Texan hospitality but may take a bit to understand you better
- will 10/10 make you something if there’s something he can make to help and if it’s possible
- gonna try everything in his power to make your life easier
————————
Hopefully I did okay 😭 ty for sending in your request!!
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enemiestolovershoe · 2 days ago
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Can you write an X reader with JJ Maybank where the reader has loved him and been kind since they were kids so when he shows interest in kiara they are upset. They get into a into a situation where they have to confess that to JJ, and he kind of confesses back that he was only interest in kie to try and get over y/n? Maybe angsty a bit, happy ending fluffy. Thanks you! Love ur blog btw
All this Time
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JJ Maybank x bsf!reader
Summary: Y/N and JJ finally confront their feelings after years of tension.
Words: 2880
Warnings: minor fighting and crying
A/N: I got a new Theme for the visuals! What do you think?
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The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting its golden rays over the docks where you and JJ Maybank spent most of your days. The familiar scent of saltwater and the rhythmic creak of boats bobbing against the tide had been the backdrop of your friendship for as long as you could remember. JJ was your constant — wild, reckless, and impossibly charming.
Growing up on the Cut, you’d been inseparable. Late-night bonfires, daring each other to jump off the highest dock into the cold water, and sneaking into abandoned houses had become second nature. It was in those moments, with the stars reflected in the ocean and JJ laughing beside you, that you realized your feelings for him ran deeper than friendship.
You tried to suppress it. JJ wasn’t the kind of guy to settle down or even notice subtle changes in your behavior. Still, you found yourself lingering in his presence, soaking in every grin and every teasing comment he threw your way.
One late afternoon, you sat side by side on the edge of the dock, legs dangling over the water. JJ leaned back on his hands, squinting at the horizon. “You ever think about leaving this place?” he asked suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
You glanced at him, surprised. “What, like forever?”
“Yeah. I dunno.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I think I’d be better off starting fresh somewhere. But then I think about you guys—” He caught himself, quickly correcting, “—the Pogues. I couldn’t leave y’all behind.”
Your heart ached at the thought. “I can’t imagine you anywhere else,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
JJ smirked, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You’d miss me too much, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself, Maybank.”
His laughter filled the air, and for a moment, it was just the two of you against the world. But as summer rolled on, something shifted.
“JJ, where the hell are you?” you called out, pushing through the dense trees that lined the edge of the beach. The sound of voices and laughter drew you closer, and you froze when you saw him.
JJ was sitting with Kiara on the sand, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. He leaned in closer than necessary, gesturing animatedly as Kiara laughed at something he’d said. It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed the two of them together, but this time, it felt different.
“Hey!” you called out, plastering on a smile as you approached. JJ glanced up, his face lighting up at the sight of you.
“There you are!” he said, waving you over. “We were just talking about heading to the wreck for a swim. You in?”
Kiara gave you a friendly smile, but her posture didn’t shift, her focus still half on JJ. “Yeah, it’s perfect weather for it,” she said.
You hesitated, feeling out of place. “Actually, I was gonna head back to the Chateau. I need to talk to John B.”
JJ frowned. “You sure? You’ve been ghosting us lately.”
“I’m not ghosting,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just… busy.”
He didn’t look convinced, but Kiara spoke up before he could press further. “Well, maybe we’ll catch you later, then.”
You nodded, forcing a smile before turning on your heel and heading back up the path. Your chest tightened as you walked away, the sound of their laughter fading behind you.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked later that night, finding you sitting alone on the Chateau’s porch. She plopped down beside you, handing you a cold beer.
You sighed, taking a sip. “Yeah. No. I don’t know.”
Sarah arched a brow, waiting.
“It’s JJ,” you admitted after a long pause. “He’s… into Kiara.”
Sarah’s expression softened. “And that bothers you because…?”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Because I’ve been in love with him since we were kids, and now it feels like he doesn’t even see me anymore.”
“Y/N,” Sarah began, her tone gentle but firm, “JJ’s an idiot, but he’s also… JJ. He doesn’t notice things until they slap him in the face. If you want him to know how you feel, you’re gonna have to spell it out for him.”
You shook your head, frustration bubbling over. “He’s already made his choice, Sarah. It’s not like I can just tell him now.”
Sarah didn’t respond immediately, her gaze thoughtful. “Maybe you should,” she said finally. “Before it’s too late.”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you stared out at the dark waves rolling in, wishing more than anything that JJ could see you the way you saw him.
Sarah’s words lingered in your mind, no matter how much you tried to push them away. Tell him? You couldn’t even imagine the humiliation that would follow. Besides, JJ had been spending more time with Kiara lately, their bond growing stronger with every passing day. It was a losing battle, so you avoided him.
Two weeks had crawled by since that night. You’d become a master at dodging JJ. When the Pogues planned hangouts, you either claimed you were busy or conveniently showed up late and left early. At first, it seemed like he didn’t notice, but JJ was sharper than he let on.
It was a blazing summer day when it all came to a head. The Pogues were sprawled out on the beach, soaking up the sun. The scene was idyllic — John B and Sarah were locked in their little world, Pope was reading a book under the shade of a palm tree, and Kiara was tossing a frisbee around with JJ. You sat further up the shore, your legs crossed as you pretended to be engrossed in scrolling through your phone.
“Hey, Y/N!” JJ’s voice cut through the sound of crashing waves. You ignored him, keeping your eyes glued to your screen. He called again, this time louder. “Y/N! You gonna sit there all day, or are you actually gonna hang out with us?”
You sighed, barely glancing up. “I’m good here, thanks.”
JJ’s carefree grin faltered, replaced with a flicker of irritation. He jogged over, kicking up sand as he approached. “Alright, what’s your deal?” he asked, standing over you with his hands on his hips.
You blinked up at him, feigning confusion. “What deal?”
“This,” he said, gesturing between the two of you. “You’ve been acting weird. Distant. Did I do something, or are you just having a rough couple of weeks?”
The others were starting to notice now. You could feel their eyes on you, the weight of their curiosity settling heavily.
“Can we not do this right now?” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
JJ crouched down, lowering his voice. “No, we’re doing this. You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” you snapped, your tone sharper than intended. “Maybe I’ve just got other things to worry about besides whatever game you and Kiara are playing.”
The words were out before you could stop them, and JJ’s face twisted in confusion and frustration. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
You stood abruptly, brushing sand off your legs. “Forget it.”
JJ grabbed your wrist, stopping you from walking away. “No, I’m not forgetting it. Talk to me!”
You yanked your arm free, your voice rising now. “Why do you care so much? You’ve been glued to Kiara’s side for weeks. Go bother her!”
“Are you serious right now?” JJ exclaimed, throwing his arms out. “You’re pissed because I’ve been hanging out with Kie?”
The commotion had drawn the attention of nearby beachgoers. You could hear the snickers of Kooks lounging under their umbrellas, their whispers cutting through the air.
“Maybe if you weren’t so busy being oblivious, you’d understand why this bothers me!” you fired back, the heat of your frustration bubbling over.
“Oblivious?” JJ repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. “I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with you for weeks, and now you’re blaming me for—”
“God, JJ, you’re impossible!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air.
“And you’re being ridiculous!” he shot back, his face reddening.
The Kooks’ laughter grew louder, the sound twisting the knife in your already fragile composure. You felt your face burn as you realized how much of a spectacle you were making, but you were too far gone to stop now. JJ looked just as flustered, his hands raking through his blond hair as he struggled to piece together what had caused this fight.
“Whatever,” you muttered, shaking your head as you turned away. “I’m done.”
JJ’s voice followed you, tinged with anger and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m done too!”
The tension in the air was unbearable, thick enough to choke on. You stopped in your tracks, your body trembling with frustration and pent-up emotions. With a sharp turn, you faced JJ again, your chest heaving as tears began to blur your vision. The suddenness of your movement made him pause, his anger replaced by a flicker of concern.
“What the hell is wrong, Y/N?” JJ’s voice softened, his brows furrowing. “Talk to me. Please.”
Your lips trembled, the words caught in your throat, but the dam finally broke. “I love you, JJ!” you shouted, the confession tearing its way out of you with a force that left you breathless. “Why can’t you see how much it hurts me when you hang out with Ki this close?”
His eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know how to respond. The weight of your confession hung between you like a storm cloud, and suddenly, all the anger, all the jealousy, all the heartbreak you’d been bottling up spilled over in waves.
“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” you continued, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face. “And every time I see you with her, laughing with her, looking at her like that—it feels like someone’s ripping me apart from the inside.”
JJ stepped forward, his face etched with something you couldn’t quite place. “Y/N…”
“No, let me finish,” you said, wiping at your face as sobs wracked your body. “I’ve been by your side through everything. I’ve defended you, fought for you, and loved you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And you—” your voice cracked, “—you’re so busy chasing after Kiara, you don’t even notice what you’re doing to me.”
Your knees buckled slightly under the weight of your emotions, but JJ caught you, his hands gripping your arms as he steadied you. His touch sent a jolt through you, but you were too exhausted to pull away.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “I swear to God, Y/N, I didn’t know.”
“How could you not know?” you cried, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I thought I was obvious.”
JJ’s hands slid down to your wrists, his grip firm but gentle. “Because I’m an idiot,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought I didn’t have a chance with you. So I—” He hesitated, looking ashamed. “I spent time with Ki because I didn’t know how to talk to you, Y/N. I was trying to distract myself.”
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “What?” you asked, barely able to process what he was saying.
“I love you too,” JJ confessed, his voice trembling now. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t know how to say it without screwing everything up.”
Your heart stopped, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. Before you could respond, JJ closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. The warmth of his embrace was overwhelming, his scent—saltwater and sunscreen—comforting and familiar.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured against your hair. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I was scared.”
You melted into him, your sobs quieting as you clung to him like he was your lifeline. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.
“Because I didn’t want to lose you,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I almost lost you anyway, didn’t I?”
Pulling back slightly, JJ cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of your tears. His blue eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of fear and hope. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability.
You nodded, unable to find the words. JJ leaned in slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t. When his lips met yours, it was everything you’d imagined and more. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, both of you pouring years of unspoken feelings into that one moment.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, JJ rested his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dumbass,” he said, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “But I promise, I’m not gonna screw this up again.”
You couldn’t help but smile, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “You’d better not, Maybank,” you teased, your voice still shaky but laced with warmth.
JJ chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “You’re stuck with me now,” he said, his tone soft but resolute.
The warmth of JJ’s arms around you was something you never wanted to lose, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore was drowned out by the steady rhythm of his breathing, and you clung to him as if the tide might carry you both away. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, but when you heard voices approaching from the direction of the Chateau, reality began creeping back in.
“Would you look at that?” Sarah’s voice rang out, filled with teasing amusement.
“Finally!” Kiara exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. “I thought we’d need an intervention.”
You pulled back slightly from JJ, still wrapped in his embrace, and turned to see the rest of the Pogues standing a few feet away, all of them wearing varying expressions of amusement and smug satisfaction. Pope had his arms crossed, shaking his head with an exasperated smile. Sarah was grinning widely, nudging John B, who looked equally pleased. Even Cleo, leaning casually against Pope, raised an eyebrow and smirked knowingly.
“Don’t mind us,” Cleo said, her accent laced with humor. “Just here to enjoy the show.”
JJ groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally released you, though his hand lingered at your waist. “Seriously? You guys were spying?”
“Not spying,” John B said, holding his hands up in mock defense. “We just heard the yelling and figured someone was about to beat the shit out of JJ.”
“Honestly, I kinda hoped she was,” Pope added with a grin. “Would’ve been entertaining.”
“Very funny, Pope,” JJ shot back, though his tone was light. “Glad to know I’ve got so much support.”
“Can we just take a moment to appreciate how dumb you two have been?” Kiara said, stepping closer. “Because, seriously, everyone knew. We’ve been waiting for you to figure it out for years.”
You felt your face heat up, glancing at JJ, who looked equally sheepish. “Years?” you asked incredulously.
“Oh, yeah,” Cleo chimed in, her smirk widening. “Y’all weren’t exactly subtle. The looks, the ‘friendly’ touching, the way JJ turns into a golden retriever whenever you’re around? Please.”
JJ groaned again, dropping his head back dramatically. “Okay, we get it. You’re all geniuses.”
“Hey, at least it’s finally out in the open,” Sarah said, giving you an encouraging smile. “And, for what it’s worth, I think it’s cute.”
John B clapped JJ on the shoulder. “Don’t screw this up, Maybank.”
JJ gave him a mock glare. “I don’t need the advice, John B.”
“I mean, you kinda do,” Pope muttered under his breath, earning a laugh from Kiara and Cleo.
Rolling his eyes, JJ turned his attention back to you, his expression softening. “You good?” he asked quietly, his voice so low that only you could hear.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Better than good.”
His grin returned, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were in your own little bubble again, despite the teasing and laughter from your friends.
“Well, now that this is settled,” Kiara said, breaking the moment, “can we get back to enjoying the beach? I came out here for some sun, not a soap opera.”
“Sure, Kie,” JJ said, smirking as he slung an arm around your shoulders. “But don’t act like you weren’t loving every second of it.”
“Don’t push your luck, Maybank,” Kiara shot back with a grin.
As the group started to disperse, Cleo caught your eye, her expression softening slightly. “About time, Y/N,” she said with a wink. “Good for you.”
You smiled at her, a wave of gratitude washing over you. For the first time in weeks—no, years—it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.
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Smutty Shorts- Thanksgiving Edition
Curtis Everett x Honey (Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Series)
18+ Only Blog
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You were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, your legs held apart while your hands tried to hold onto a buzz-cut head buried between your thighs. He already had you on the edge, wanting to come for him while he kept you perched on the counter. 
“Curtis, You’re running out of time.” You couldn't help but push his face in closer, urging him in other ways. He lapped at your clit quickly, making you wriggle in place till his hands clasped harder against the roll of your hip, making you still while he pulled his head up, all your slick glistening in the darkness of his beard, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. That high slowly started to dull once more. 
His blue eyes had a mischievous look, glancing at the timer and clicking down on the stove. “You wanted me to lose three minutes of you?” two thick fingers filled you, making your hips arch to meet his thrusts, his fingers curling to stroke you. 
So quickly did your arousal start to coat his fingers. “What was I thinking?” you gasped as he rose to a stand, his thumb pressing against your clit. This time you grasped his chain, yanking him in close as your mouth pressed to his, desperate to finally reach that bliss and unwilling to let it end quite yet. 
You refused to let him go even after the timer started going off. You could care less if the rolls for Tanya’s Thanksgiving burned.
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blackberrybuds · 3 days ago
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Hi! Genuine question, could you explain what crohns is? I saw from your blog that Kamimura apparently has it and he's my favorite so I was hoping you could explain it and how it affects him. Thank you! /nf -🎱
YES anon i absolutely can i LOVE getting disability asks
okay so crohns disease is an inflammatory disorder that affects your digestive tract. its super super crazy painful and comes with like a billion symptoms but to keep things simple: the main things are stuff like severe diarrhea, fevers, severe fatigue, and weight loss/malnutrition stemming from those. having crohns makes it really hard for your body to absorb nutrients so its normal for people with crohns to be really exhausted and underweight, which like.......
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erm yeah this guy is pretty small. look at those legs. he weighs nothing.
with that in mind lets get into HOW IT AFFECTS KAMIMURA SPECIFICALLY!!!
as we know, kamimura's blood doesnt clot. that makes crohns especially dangerous for him, because there can often be a lot of bleeding involved in crohns. if crohns inflammation gets particularly rough, there can be quite a bit of blood passed, which is obviously bad for him so i hope hes TAKING SOMETHING. there can also be a lot of issues with ulcers or fissures that bleed as well, so im not surprised kamimura has anxiety problems, because he basically has to be constantly on edge about this kind of stuff.
one of the classic wonderful fun things about crohns is episodes of very sudden, very urgent need to use the washroom. like, within the minute. non-negotiable. very fun!! especially fun when you are kamimura kazutoshi and you get a decision game punishment that bans you from the dormitories and all the bathrooms are locked at night!! its no surprise that he made a comment about all the motives feeling like they're specifically meant to target him, because this one was particularly harsh for him. this is actually why i headcanoned him as a diaper user in my other post because god i fking hope he is if he had to be locked out of the bathroom for like nine hours a night. diapers/incontinence products in general are fairly common for crohns users so i wanna think he is not SO stubborn that he would refuse to wear them but........i mean youve seen how he is. also considering he has cataplexy episodes that cause him to lose all muscle tone i would HOPE he has something on in case of emergencies
i think we sort of see kamimura's first in-game flare up (crohns episode) way back in chapter one, when he's acting really sick in the morning and ends up hiding out in his room during breakfast and cant really get out of bed and just wants to be alone. crohns is genuinely so painful and uncomfortable and for someone like kamimura who is very private it would probably be pretty embarrassing to be flaring up in a group of strangers so it makes sense that he'd just wanna fuck off and hide out in his room for a while and hopefully ride it out. we also find out in the second investigation that he gets up really frequently during the night, which is another thing thats common if youve got crohns because unfortunately your bathroom needs do not care abt your sleep needs. hooray.
we are all rooting for this little diseased freak!!!!
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ghouljams · 2 days ago
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how does one become free of insecurity? i’m already doing therapy but i feel i’ve only moved away from hating myself so much i want to d*e into just thinking everyone’s better than me
It's a long journey, but well worth it.
I don't think anyone is ever truly free of insecurity, but I think there's also a lot that is unpacked simply through the language we use to describe ourselves and the jokes we allow other people to make at our expense.
Therapy is great at helping you deal with the big feelings, but sometimes little things get caught in your head and it's hard to shake them. Here are some things that I do to keep myself feeling good, and also some things that I'm working on:
No suicide jokes. I make it a point never to joke about "oh I'll just kill myself" or anything like that because ultimately it just makes me feel worse and nobody finds it funny. It's also a good way to change your thinking and direct your solution brain away from "I'll just end things when shit gets hard." This one is a constant battle.
I compliment myself whenever I have the chance. I take every compliment someone gives me. I pretend to be vapid and self-absorbed. I make kissy faces at myself in the mirror. I tell other people how pretty I am, and I don't fucking care if they think I'm a stupid bimbo because I'm trying to love myself and that's more important.
Being kinder to my younger self. This one feels weird but I found myself being mean to little Ghoul when I was really sad. It feels easy to take out your anger on a kid that didn't know any better, and it doesn't guilt you because that's you that you're hating. But look. You were just a kid. You weren't stupid or ugly or unlovable or evil, you were a kid. I just caught myself calling my teenage self ugly the other day on my way to visit my mom and I had to stop and go "why am I saying this? I was just a kid." And it made me cry a li'l bit ngl, but if felt... idk it felt good in a way.
Don't let fucking anyone tell you, you're not worth it. Does your friend make jokes about how dumb you are? Or how you're so cringey? Or so embarrassing or bad at something or forgetful or WHATEVER? Yeah, fuck that noise. Tell them to stop doing that. Tell them it hurts your feelings and if they still don't stop they aren't your friend, they're your bully. I fucking hate bullies. Don't let anyone talk down to you, I don't care if it was a joke at first, it's not funny anymore. Fuck them.
This is something I'm working on, but when you start fixing one insecurity another will probably pop up. I've been working for a long time on liking how I look, and it's gone really well. But now I'm insecure about my intelligence. So I have to stop myself from calling myself stupid or not answering questions. I just fucking rocked my work trivia party, and Mr. Ghoul thinks I'm smart, so I just gotta keep track of my wins. Sometimes you realize that making yourself secure in one thing makes you insecure about another, but that's ok! There's a learning curve to all of this.
Everyone thinks everyone else is better than them. You don't have to be the best at everything, you don't even have to be the best at one thing! What's important is that you're doing your best. People notice when you're working hard, even if you're not churning out the best product because it means you care about it. Which brings me to
Done is better than perfect. Sure it would be great if you were God's most specialist soldier, but think about how much work that would be! Ok so you're not the world's best knitter, but the scarf you made your friend is their favorite scarf anyway because you made it. So you're not a world class writer, but you had a story in your head and you wrote it down. That's better than it never being written at all. Also just because you think it's bad doesn't mean other people won't think it's a masterpiece. Hell, half of the fics I wrote when I first started this blog I could write better now but that doesn't make them bad, it just means I've gotten better.
We as humans are constantly improving and evolving. Don't let who you are no stop you from striving towards who you'll be in the future. Taking one step down the path towards loving yourself is better than giving up and hating yourself forever. It's slow going, but man I've been doing this shit for a decade and I'm so much happier than I was at 18.
You might think that the more you improve the harder and faller you'll fall back to the bottom, but the lows don't get that low again. You're doing great. I'm proud of you.
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drakorn · 1 day ago
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Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens
Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons
Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.
Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Grey Wardens
So before we start, I would like to notify you of three minor changes I made to my previous blog entry regarding the Shadow Dragons:
Varric no longer tells us about Solas straight away. I believe that’s a bomb that would be more effective when dropped later, otherwise poor Rook might just be a tad overwhelmed.
Neve stays in Minrathous rather than accompanying Rook and Varric. Yeah, as much as I like the idea of your chosen faction determining your first companion, I don’t think it’s really doable given the circumstances a few other companions find themselves in at the start of the game.
The Dreadwolf title card does not appear just yet. I found a better spot to use it later.
Now that we have dealt with the Shadow Dragon origin story, let us move on to the Grey Wardens. And here, we are going to have some fun because boy do I have ideas for this one.
The Grey Wardens were kinda the faction I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to playing at first and there’s a reason for that. You see, we already played a Grey Warden in DAO, and I actually like each game’s protagonist being someone very different. However, when I think about it now, there is some narrative logic to it. If DAV truly is the last Dragon Age game (which is very up in the air right now), it makes total sense to have this choice to bookend the story. You started as a Grey Warden, and now you’ll finish as one. Plus, with the Blight giving us its last hoorah in this one, it only makes sense to put the Wardens in a more prominent position once again.
So, without further ado, let us jump into the Grey Warden origin story!
Creating Rook
We start a new game, Varric gives his opening narration about the overall state of Northern Thedas, and this time, we click on the Grey Warden origin. The little blurb reads as follows:
“You are a Grey Warden. An ancient military order sworn to battle the ever-present threat of the Darkspawn, the Wardens undergo secret, unbreakable rites that grant them supernatural powers against the Taint. As the last surviving member of the Dornen outlaws, you joined the order after a passing Senior Warden invoked the Right of Conscription at your execution and gave you the chance to fight another day. But what you will do with it, that is up to you.”
Right there, we have a great canvas to paint with when it comes to sheer roleplay. We are a former criminal, the last survivor of a group known as the Dornen. Our group wasn’t, like, evil, but we were enough of a presence in the area in and around Hossberg to cause some proper trouble. The Anderfels is a dangerous land, the most dangerous one in Thedas. People don’t live, they survive. This means that many turn to unlawful ways to make ends meet. But being a former outlaw beautifully lines up with the theme of second chances the Order gives to so many people.
In DAV, our Warden’s name is Thorne. “Dornen” is the German words for “Thorns”. The Anderfels’ linguistic and etymological side is mostly based on German (“Anderfels” meaning “Other Rock” or “Weisshaupt” meaning “White Head”). So wouldn’t it be a fun idea if “Thorne” isn’t really the Warden’s last name but just the name they ended up going with? They arguably never knew their family name and the Dornen were as close to one as they could have gotten.
Unlike Mercar, your racial choice won’t really have that much of an impact here as the Wardens accept everyone into their ranks, as long as they can fight. However, if you choose to be a Qunari, it will add a few unique dialogue lines about how few Qunari there are in the order. You are probably one of the only ones.
For this hypothetical playthrough, we shall pick a dwarf warrior, and I’m giving him a big ginger beard. Just going full Lord of the Rings here.
Alright, so we just generated our Thorne, and now we get to hear Varric’s continued narration. We get a series of those beautiful tarot-styled illustrations with Varric’s voice telling us what’s been happening with the Wardens for the last decade. The Wardens in the North specifically have been all gradually returning to Weisshaupt Fortress, by order of the First Warden. They have become much more reclusive and secretive than they already were and are sharing practically nothing with the outside world. Something’s definitely going on. And Varric thinks it might be part of something larger.
Weisshaupt Fortress
And now, for the first time ever, we get to see Weisshaupt Fortress in all its glory, a gigantic fortress carved into the very mountains, the great headquarters of the Grey Wardens that withstood for over a thousand years.
I really like the way Weisshaupt is portrayed in DAV, my only gripe is that we never get to actually properly explore it. I was…surprised by that, actually. So what better way to explore Weisshaupt than have it be part of the Grey Warden origin?
This is place filled with such incredibly rich history. Just imagine, this place has existed since the First Blight, an event older than Andraste. This is an absolute field day for lore enthusiasts such as myself.
As soon as Weisshaupt appears, we get a grand reprise of Inon Zur’s DAO main theme, establishing it as the Warden leitmotif. Now that we are able to properly play as a Grey Warden again, we are just eased back into that feeling. We might not be playing the Hero of Ferelden anymore, but we can definitely bring back the nostalgia. Music is such an important part of storytelling, it’s insane how much a well-chosen theme can do.
Meeting High Constable Janos
Thorne arrives at Weisshaupt after a recent patrol through the mountains and we are greeted by High Constable Janos, the second-in-command to the First Warden. For some reason that rank never comes up in DAV, so we’re just going to include that here.
Here we’re going to establish that Janos was the Warden-Commander who invoked the Right of Conscription during our execution all the way back in Hossberg a few years ago. But why would the Right of Conscription even work in a time without the Blight? Well, this is a fair question for any other nation than the Anderfels. But the Anderfels is constantly threatened by darkspawn incursions, making it the only nation where the Right of Conscription still holds weight without a Blight. Given how the First Warden is often seen as an advisor to the King/Queen, one can also say that the Wardens’ whole “no politics” spiel doesn’t really apply in the Anderfels, either.
Janos informs us of an upcoming mission, assigned by the First Warden himself. Thorne is to meet him, Janos, and a few others in the war room later that day. It is something quite urgent.
NOTE: Throughout the prologue, Rook is still referred to as Thorne, given that “Rook” as a nickname does not exist yet.
Exploring Weisshaupt
Before we head off to the war room, we get a chance to properly explore Weisshaupt for the first time. And there are some interesting things to be done here:
Thorne can walk in on a recruit training session hosted by Davrin. Yep, if we’re a Grey Warden, we get to meet Davrin a little earlier than every other origin. We won’t know anything about his secret griffon mission yet, so for now we just meet him as a trainer. We learn that Davrin and Thorne joined the Wardens at roughly the same time and initially disliked each other due to their different pasts. But over the years, they grew to a mutual understanding since that’s just what being part of the order does to you. In this encounter, we get to train the recruits with Davrin for a short while, even do a sparring session between the two of us.
We come across a few recruits who are yet to undergo the Joining. From here, we learn that there hasn’t really been a great influx of Wardens recently as people just don’t see the necessity. And while the Right of Conscription applies in the Anderfels outside a Blight, it does so only when the alternative is a crime verdict. The recruits know about the Joining already, so we can either reassure or prepare them for the possibility of dying.
We learn from the general chatter as we traverse Weisshaupt that many of the older Wardens are getting ready for their Calling. Since there’s such an unusually high number this time, they are organising something akin to a massive group exodus into the Deep Roads. From the same chatter, we also learn that there has been a staggeringly smaller amount of recruits every year. Some of the older Wardens are worried.
We can enter the library and meet Valya from the Last Flight novel. Instead of just leaving the Wardens for an unspecified reason like in DAV, here she stayed, survived her Joining, and has since been promoted to Chamberlain of the Grey, the order’s chief archivist after her predecessor embarked on his Calling. Her role in rediscovering the griffons had a huge part to play here, but we don’t know that yet. She has also entered a relationship with Caronel who has been promoted to Warden-Commander of the Anderfels. From Valya, who is also in charge with gathering reports from Wardens all around the world, we learn how the Wardens in the South are doing, and it’s quite something. Nathaniel Howe is now the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and operates from Vigil’s Keep. Yes, all Wardens have been ordered to return to Weisshaupt, but Ferelden is an exception to this summon as the First Warden deems Amaranthine  being an actual Arling and two Grey Wardens ruling the country as too valuable of an asset to just drop. The same can’t be said for Orlais, though, as we learn that the Orlesian Wardens, currently led by Stroud and Thom Rainier, have fortified the Warden stronghold outside Montsimmard and are currently acting as peacekeepers. In addition, Bethany is currently overseeing the still-standing Griffon Wing Keep. The First Warden looks at them with disdain for refusing to obey his orders, but he also can’t, in good conscience, declare war upon them as every Warden is valuable.
NOTE: Here we see some of our World State shine through. In this playthrough, Hawke was left behind in the Fade, allowing Stroud to be a force for good among the Wardens. Blackwall took back his original name of Thom Rainier and became a proper Grey Warden. Since Hawke took Bethany and Anders to the Deep Roads in DA2, Bethany was made a Grey Warden. Nathaniel Howe was recruited and both Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine were defended properly, allowing the Wardens to once again maintain a strong presence in Ferelden. As mentioned in the previous post, Alistair and Cousland currently rule Ferelden. And, as we're about to see, Avernus has been left alive and allowed to ethically continue his research.
While still in the library, we get to read a few letters sent to Valya. One of them is from Cousland, dating back a few years now, stating that she is close to making progress on how to stop the Calling but that this is the last letter she’ll be able to send as she’s embarking to places where communication just isn’t possible. Another is from Stroud, stating his regret for how things turned out. Here we get some hints as to what happened when he came to Weisshaupt during DAI. Apparently him and the First Warden clashed on ideals, the First Warden insisting on staying distant and secretive and Stroud being in favour of change. The third letter is from Ramesh, the Warden from Tevinter Nights who discovered one of Ghilan’nains labs and is now searching for the other eleven. The fourth and final letter is a report from Avernus and concerns the progress of his superior Joining ritual. All of these are just codex entries as I doubt we'd get to see this publicly.
Meeting the First Warden
After exploring Weisshaupt, we enter the war room, where Jowin Glastrum, the First Warden himself, awaits us. Joining us in the meeting are High Constable Janos and Warden-Commander Caronel.
Now, let me make something very clear about the First Warden. I like that he’s old-fashioned and traditionalist in DAV, I think it was very in-character of him to act distant and dismissive towards people outside the order. However, he is also a Grey Warden first and foremost at heart, he has Thedas’ best interest in mind. He isn’t here just because of status and standing, no, he clawed his way up the ranks through valiant deeds. We know that many Wardens in the Anderfels come from noble lines and still have ties to those. While the First Warden is of a noble house, he doesn’t use that as something to flaunt over the Wardens. His idea of having ties to noble families is a strictly pragmatic one: the more ties, the more aid, the more recruits. While he might not get along with outsiders, he absolutely respects the Wardens under his command and, while not always agreeable, would never meaninglessly sacrifice them. He’s harsh, strict, often an asshole, but still a Warden at heart.
The First Warden briefs us on a mission: A strange crack into the Deep Roads has opened near the village of Lavendel and a darkspawn horde is gathering for a full assault. Wardens Evka and Antoine are already on-site, preparing the defences.
The First Warden orders us to take charge of the village’s defences alongside Caronel. Under no circumstances are we to abandon post. High Constable Janos will arrive with reinforcements to secure our victory. The idea is to lure the bulk of the horde out of the Deep Roads so that we can slay most of them.
We can inquire why Thorne was chosen for this, since our presence alongside the First Warden, the High Constable, and the Warden-Commander is pretty insignificant, to which the First Warden answers that we are very much due to becoming Senior Wardens ourselves, it’s just this one last assignment left until our promotion.
After the briefing, we leave the war room and encounter Davrin again, with whom you can share in your either excitement or humbleness. In any case, Davrin congratulates us on the soon-to-be promotion, claiming how deserving of it we are and how he would have never thought so upon our first meeting all those years ago.
If we wonder why Davrin wasn’t chosen to head to Lavendel, he’ll tease that he has something else going on, equally important, but won’t tell us what it is just yet as it’s top secret (wink wink caw caw).
Reaching Lavendel
We depart Weisshaupt and leave for Lavendel, a small but significant village not far away from Hossberg. We take a few newly joined Wardens with us, a group consisting of the recruits we met earlier at Weisshaupt.
Upon entering Lavendel, we are approached by Evka and Antoine, who have been busy preparing the defences. From the ensuing conversation we gather that Thorne is very well-acquainted with them, similar to Davrin, having shared in many patrols across the Anderfels with them.
While Caronel takes charge of the mission, he trusts your judgment on matters as it is your time to prove yourself further in the eyes of Weisshaupt. High Constable Janos leaves you be now and heads off to prepare the reinforcements on the other side of the hills.
In the distance, a faint dark red cloud indicates the approaching darkspawn.
Preparing for Battle
Before the darkspawn assault begins, we have the chance to explore Lavendel a little and engage in its defences. During this short segment, we have a few encounters to experience:
Naturally, we can talk to Evka and Antoine and reflect on some of our past adventures together.
We can speak to the new Wardens we’re supposed to co-lead with Caronel, either inspiring them or telling them to be realistic and not too hasty. It’s obvious many of them joined because of the heroic notion surrounding being a member of the order.
We can encounter Mila and her father, Lavendel’s blacksmith. Yeah, I haven’t made them occupants of Weisshaupt just yet, you’ll see why in a bit.
We can inspect the defences, which boil down to barricades, a few ballistae, and, of course, the Warden stronghold just outside the village. If we explore enough, we see a very large and lose rock on a jagged edge right next to Lavendel. Maybe this will be useful later? Since we took the extra time to look around, we can now have that in the back of our head. We can also spot a crack in the stronghold’s basement and encourage quick repairments to be made.
We can speak to Caronel and share in thoughts about the coming fight. All of us Wardens can sense the approaching darkspawn. Caronel isn’t too worried as it’s just a minor skirmish, albeit with a larger-than-usual horde. And why worry? We’ve got Janos swooping in with reinforcements, anyway. We can talk about Caronel’s promotion to Warden-Commander, which was very recent. It is surprising how one so young climbed the ladder so fast, to which Caronel responds that it’s really not so uncommon anymore, given how Ferelden’s Warden-Commander got the title only a year after joining. Well, granted, she took down the Archdemon and somehow lived to tell the tale, but the point stands.
Before we commence the battle, there is one big choice to be made about our position and that of the villagers. While Evka and Antoine suggest to pull all Wardens and villagers into the stronghold and brave the storm there, Caronel would rather only keep the villagers in there while us Wardens head out into the open and prevent the darkspawn from getting to them in the first place. We don’t really have enough Wardens to divide, so we must make that choice now.
Send both the Wardens and the villagers into the stronghold and fight on close and narrow ground. The villagers are at risk from getting into the heat of battle, but the Wardens will be close by to defend them.
Send the villagers into the stronghold and let the Wardens fight in the village itself. While the villagers will be more vulnerable in terms of sheer distance away from the Wardens, the darkspawn is less likely to even get near them.
For the sake of this playthrough, we choose to evacuate the village, and ourselves, into the stronghold. We feel confident but would rather keep our charges close to us. Being a former outlaw in the Anderfels has taught us how one should never leave their goal out of sight. Our aim is to defend, not to gloriously destroy. This shows us that Thorne is willing to cast the pride of glory aside and choose an arguably safer path.
An Old Friend
Our decision made, we deliver a short speech to the villagers, instructing them to head into the Warden stronghold. We shall follow suite immediately and position ourselves on the walls and in the courtyard. Since we’re familiar with the darkspawn’s habit of digging tunnels, we’ll make sure the basement is accounted for as well.
Once the villagers and Wardens head to the keep, we are approached by a most familiar face: Varric Tethras. This is certainly a surprise. While we’ve never met him in person, we’ve certainly heard and read about him. Varric says he was passing through on an errand of his own and figured he might as well aid Lavendel’s defences with Bianca. While we can question the sincerity of this statement, we can use any help we get.
Varric comments how many Wardens would seek out the more daring and glorious path and is pleased to see that we’re not one of them.
The Battle of Lavendel
Right so we’re all hunched up in the fortress, and the atmosphere is intense. Now, all of us sense the evil just outside our doorstep. The dark red cloud is directly above us. Everyone looks to Thorne and Caronel for leadership while Evka and Antoine keep morale up. Varric, while being easy-going, is very much battle-ready now.
The darkspawn slowly creep through the village like a dark carpet of disease and corruption. We hear the deafening screeches of shrieks in the distance and see various hurlocks and genlocks make their way between the buildings. At this point, a thought comes to us, one we share with Caronel. Holy shit, that’s a lot of darkspawn. And no sign of Janos yet. Where is he? Where are the other Wardens? Surely this can’t be less than the bulk of the horde yet. This is almost like a new Blight.
A horrifying thought grips us and we quickly sense into the Taint for any signs of an Archdemon’s song. To our relief, we hear nothing. The relief is short-lived, however, as the darkspawn reach the stronghold and send in a wave of shrieks to scale the walls.
We engage in a properly gritty fight against the darkspawn and can make use of several ballistae on the battlements. But we quickly realise that this place is just not at all well-prepared. Evka and Antoine’s pre-defences, alongside our inspection, are all that’s keeping this place from being overrun. Why is this in such a shoddy condition?
We then hear fighting from the basement. Ah, so the darkspawn did attempt to dig through. Good that we halted their progress by mending that crack, giving us time to respond.
We head into the basement and confront some hurlocks and genlocks. After the skirmish, we sent several grenades into the tunnel below, causing it to collapse without damaging our infrastructure too much.
Returning to the courtyard, we see something strange. A few of the shrieks have reached a group of villagers, but instead of slaying them, they’re trying to abduct them alive. While this wouldn’t be strange if all villagers were female, given that darkspawn need broodmothers to multiply, they are taking the men, too. What…?
We make short work of the darkspawn, and at this point, some of our newly joined Wardens have fallen, but only the Wardens. Now would be a really good time for Janos to show up.
At this moment, we hear loud dum, dum, dum. Huge footsteps approach. We look at each other and have all the same reaction: Ah shit.
The gates to the courtyard break down and a huge ogre walks in. Oh boy, here we go. Now would be a really good time for Janos to show up!
We take down the ogre with great difficulty and see that another large influx of darkspawn follows. After dealing with those, the fighting ceases for a moment.
We head to the battlements and see another group on the outskirts of the village. Then we remember the huge loose rock. Oh yeah, baby.
We quickly load up a ballista and aim across the village, towards the jagged cliff. It takes three shots for the edge to become lose enough, but it works. The huge rock collapses upon the newly approaching darkspawn horde, squashing them all beneath, but taking some of Lavendel’s houses with it.
The relief is short-lived, however, as we can still sense the Taint in our heads. Further away, past the outskirts of the village, we can already see a new horde of darkspawn amassing. And still no sign of Janos.
We gather a quick emergency meeting between the Wardens, and some start speculating that…Janos might not be showing up. Evka and Antoine are of the same belief, while Caronel holds on to the hope that reinforcements are on their way. Why wouldn’t they be? Wardens stick together.
But what about us? What do we believe? Janos personally recruited us all those years ago, he personally saw to our training. Why would he…but where is he then? Why isn’t he coming? Maybe he was held up? But by what? Was there another darkspawn horde on the other side of the hills? But why can’t we sense them? In fact…why can’t we sense any other Wardens in the immediate vicinity aside from us?
Wherever Janos might be, we have to hold out on our own. But if the darkspawn keep coming, we won’t hold out at all eventually. And if the Wardens die, the villagers will be…what exactly? Killed? Or taken? No villager has died so far. Why is that? What’s going on here?
Eventually, Thorne concludes that if we are to survive, we must seal that damn entrance ourselves.
But how will we go about this? Do we take all Wardens with us, or just a few?
Take all Wardens to the Deep Roads entrance. The villagers are exposed but the darkspawn may be largely drawn to us given that they haven’t even as much as injured anyone else yet.
Take Evka and Antoine and leave Caronel and the other Wardens with the villagers.
No matter what we choose, we are going against the First Warden’s orders to not leave Lavendel under any circumstances until reinforcements arrive. And at this point, if we are to survive, we have no other choice. We tell Caronel and the other Wardens to secure the villagers’ retreat from Lavendel, while Thorne, Evka and Antoine head off to seal the entrance to the Deep Roads. Caronel is hesitant at first but comes to agree with you. In Death, sacrifice, true, but the sacrifice has to mean something. Varric offers to accompany us but since he’s no Warden, we refuse. He’s more useful with protecting the villagers without risking getting instantly blighted.
Approaching the Crack
With Evka and Antoine at our side, along with several grenades from the stronghold, we head across the dark hills. A few darkspawn break off from the main horde and try to stop us, but we make short work of them.
After a few short skirmishes, we reach the entrance to the Deep Roads, a very steep crack located between two rocky hills. It is guarded by two ogres. The rest of the horde have already departed for Lavendel. It’s now or never. We might be fewer but two ogres…we can take them. Maybe.
We throw ourselves into a fight with the two giants and slay them after exchanging some fierce blows.
Now that we have a short breathing moment, we must quickly go about sealing that entrance. However, looking at it reveals that we can only collapse it by doing so from below. No use doing it from up here. But this action would cause the Warden who does it to be trapped.
We look at Evka and Antoine and order them to give us the grenades. They initially refuse but we remind them that as Warden Thorne, we have been given charge of this mission. It’s either us or no-one. We take the grenades and bid farewell to our favourite Warden couple, ordering them to return to the others. We then recite the oath of the Grey Wardens between us. “In Peace, Vigilance,” says Antoine. “In War, Victory,” says Evka. “In Death, Sacrifice,” says Thorne.
The Deep Roads
We descent into the cavern and find ourselves immediately struck by an overwhelming sense of the Taint. There are more darkspawn here, and they are coming.
We quickly go about preparing the grenades, when we are suddenly stricken by a strange sense. It is similar to the Taint, but also different, almost…purer. Suddenly, we become incredibly aware of the cavern around us. We can sense each layer, each type, each consistency. We can sense hidden passages, the tunnels the Darkspawn are digging right now. And we feel…whole, strangely so. And this is only something we experience if we picked a dwarven Thorne, for we are experiencing Stone Sense.
At this moment, a figure approaches us from the dark, followed by darkspawn. We look up and see a tall, cloaked being, wearing dark armour that we can’t recognise. We can definitely sense the Blight in it, but it’s…weirdly different in a way we can’t describe. The figure has veins of lyrium writhing all around its form, red lyrium.
It speaks to us, but we can only hear its voice in our head. It asks us to stop, to let be done what must be done. When we ask who and what this thing is, it simply refers to itself as “The Emissary”. While the Emissary won’t tell us exactly why it wants the villagers, it hints at a great and regrettable mistake that has to be rectified before it’s all too late.
Being the Warden we are, we attempt to still go through with our grenade plan, but the Emissary casts a spell of pure, raw magic on us, causing us to be knocked against a wall. But we refuse to go down fighting and challenge the Emissary to a one on one.
Similar with Laskaris in the Shadow Dragon origin, the Emissary is a fight we aren’t meant to win. But if we lower its HP to 0, the cutscene will be a little different.
In our seemingly dying breath, we hurl the grenades against the weakest parts of the crack, which we can clearly determine due to our Stone Sense. The Emissary howls in fury as the rocks descend upon us, sealing the Deep Roads off of Lavendel for good. All turns black around us.
Saved
But strangely enough, this isn’t the end. We wake up back in Lavendel and see Varric. He says he followed us in secret as he had a feeling we might be needing assistance. When Evka and Antoine showed up without us, he increased his pace and the three made it just in time. Varric climbed down and found us in the rubble, saving us from certain death.
Evka and Antoine join us and profusely apologise for leaving our side, despite us ordering them to do so. Well, it seems the Wardens in general have a feeling for disobedience as of lately.
When we inquire about Lavendel, we are told that everyone is save and none have been taken. This is because of the time we took to explore the place before the battle. By sealing the basement and collapsing the great rock, the darkspawns’ numbers were too few for what came next.
But…what came next? We find out the moment we walk outside.
A whole entourage of Wardens hurry about Lavendel. The reinforcements arrived after all. Or so we think.
High Constable Janos and the First Warden approach us. When we remark on the lateness of the reinforcements, the First Warden orders us imprisoned. What? Why? For disobedience, of course. We see that Janos is uncomfortably silent during this exchange.
But we saved Lavendel. We repelled the darkspawn horde and sealed the entrance to the Deep Roads. What could he possibly be so mad about? It can’t just be about disobedience, right?
Well…as we slowly, horrifyingly learn from the conversation, Lavendel wasn’t meant to survive. All who were there, Wardens and villagers alike, were supposed to fall to the darkspawn.
Here we get the context: the Calling has been manifesting in more and more older Wardens. At the same time, Weisshaupt is receiving fewer and fewer recruits. This combination will eventually have the effect of the order facing extinction. And outside the Anderfels, the Right of Conscription means less than nothing now. The world has grown complacent in a world without the Blight, even though the recent one has only been twenty years ago. And the Anderfels doesn’t have a large enough population to feed the ranks on its own.
By using this abnormally large darkspawn horde, letting it consume villagers and Wardens alike, the First Warden hoped to convince the nobility to encourage greater recruitment again. It can’t be a coincidence that the Calling has been manifesting increasingly more frequent now.
But Thorne has been a thorn in this plan’s side and ensured that the First Warden’s plan backfired spectacularly.
Shocked, we turn to Janos and ask him if he was aware of this. Yes, he was. In Death, Sacrifice. In War, Victory. And the war isn’t over as long as Razikale and Lusacan still slumber beneath the surface.
Caronel has been stripped off his rank as Warden-Commander of the Anderfels and Evka and Antoine will be assigned to very far-away duties for the foreseeable future. Thorne, however, as the instigator of this chaos, is to be tried for disobedience and treason.
This is where we can lash out, accusing the First Warden of having lost his way. We can also add that Lavendel’s villagers wouldn’t have died anyway as the Emissary wanted to collect them. When we tell the Wardens of what we saw beneath the surface, the First Warden, as we would assume, does not believe us, assuming we’re using this as a convenient excuse to paint ourselves in a more heroic image. Janos, however, knows us, so he isn’t so sure.
At this point, Varric chimes in and argues against trial and imprisonment, stating it as just a waste of effort. Instead, he offers to take Thorne away for a matter of great importance. The First Warden objects, stating that Weisshaupt’s affairs are to remain its own. Janos, however, in a change of tone, takes Varric’s side. Whatever Thorne���s reasonings are, one can’t deny that we are a true Warden. NO matter the disobedience, we fought against the Blight and won. There will be other opportunities to gather more recruits, but we do not deserve a trial for doing what we joined the order for.
The First Warden eventually relents. Remember, he is still a Grey Warden, with Thedas’ best interest at heart. Him doing this whole Lavendel thing was him acting out of desperation to keep the order alive in the long run. The morality is incredibly questionable, he’s definitely an asshole, but he is not heartless. Rather than putting us in chains, the First Warden suspends us from all Weisshaupt duties and instead tasks us with travelling the lands, searching for new recruits until further notice. Dismissed.
Leaving Lavendel
When the First Warden leaves, Janos makes an attempt at conversing with us, apologising for sending us into death. We can be either understanding, or angry, or just hurt. Despite our rough exterior, we are hurt because Janos was the one who saved us from another execution in the first place. Janos definitely feels bad about it, but orders were orders. Yeah…orders were orders, we respond.
Varric approaches us and confesses that he’s not here by accident. He’s looking for someone among the Wardens to accompany him on a very special mission of the utmost importance. He heard from some of his contacts that Lavendel would have fitting candidates. And he is certain he just found the one. What exactly are we doing, now that we’re stuck with him? Varric promises to reveal everything in good time. Now, he would very much like to get out of this place. We can either go immediately or have some final conversations. Being the completionists we are, we of course choose the latter.
We can talk to Evka and Antoine and just be glad that we’re all still alive, despite being given rather shitty jobs now. Well, that’s a no on the promotion for now, right? But we’re confident we’ll see each other sooner rather than later.
Caronel honestly doesn’t even care about his demotion. He’s just glad he survived and is now able to return to Valya. But if he were still Warden-Commander, he would make us Senior Warden in a heartbeat. Sometimes, one simply has to defy orders.
We can talk to Mila, who excitedly announces that her father has taken Janos’ offer to be Weisshaupt’s new blacksmith, given that the fortress desperately needs one again.
The Wardens who were under our command during the battle look up to us in awe and call us a hero and inspiration, no matter what the First Warden says. They actually pretty much despise him now as he was so willing to just let them die.
Once all of this is done, we head to Varric and and half-enthusiastically announce our readiness to depart. Varric smiles and welcomes us to the team. What team? Oh, we’ll see. But he recommends us going by another name for the foreseeable future as the First Warden might just be petty enough to make our life more difficult by telling foreign Wardens or members of the nobility about our streak of disobedience and conspiracy theories. Well, that’s easy enough, we say, back in the Dornen, the others used to call us “Rook” for that one time we headed straight in and brought down a very well-connected Hossberg nobleman. “The strongest piece on the chessboard,” Varric chuckles. “I like it.”
Now going by Rook once again, we head off with Varric. As Lavendel is nearly out of sight, we turn around and look at the gathered Wardens one last time. This…is not how we pictured leaving the order one day. But no, we haven’t left it. We’re just…taking a vacation. With a heavy heart, we turn back to Varric and follow him into the unknown.
And that’s it for this one! Now we have our Grey Warden Rook origin story. It’s a lot, I know, but the Wardens have a lot of material to work with. And the whole plot surrounding the Emissary will make sense later, I promise.
Next time we shall be heading off into Arlathan Forest to draft a potential Veil Jumper origin story! Stay tuned!
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princessmoms · 2 days ago
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Updates & Thank you's!
Hello to all 3k+ of you lovely people! Wanted to take a moment to give some thanks, updates and promotions again.
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Huge thanks to the latest two Patreon supporters for helping to keep this blog up and running! As always, here's a link to anyone else that would like to support the artist and get to see letters and art before anyone else. [LINK]
You can also commission the artist to help support the work here. I love to draw your ocs and ships,. As a fair warning: Prices will be getting a slight increase at the end of this year. Patron supports always get a discount on commission prices! [LINK]
Traffic on the blog has been great and I just appreciate how much everyone is enjoying my OC. It's the best motivation to get so many interested questions about my characters as well as the canon ones! To help myself in streamlining the process, I've even made a dedicated spreadsheet to tracking all the letters received here from now on, including ones that unfortunately have to get discarded for one reason or another. Sorry guys, questions from your own OCs is fine but I'm not willing to take questions from people roleplaying as canon characters, even from other ask blogs/universes. It's just not the vibe here.
I have been considering using the good traffic here to promote other ask blogs I enjoy. It could be a fun way to spread the attention around.
Recently managed to upgrade my drawing tablet so you'll be noticing an upgrade to the quality of the comics from now on. And recently went into progress of buying new parts to build a dedicated workstation for art from now on. (I've worked from the same laptop I've had for a decade now so it will be like going from a flintstones car to a jet engine.) You can expect some delays once the parts arrive in December as I will need to build it and transfer many important files over to the new rig. That's all to say for today, thank you all for your time and love over this past year and here's looking towards the next one!
-Neon Yo💜 @overlordneon
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apeachty · 2 days ago
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₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀bottled up
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note : i know i keep on saying that it's not a writing blog, but beomgyu crying is an emergency. i know all moa feel the same right now, so i wanted to write a little something to comfort both myself and moablr.
i started crying while choosing the pics on pinterest, and i just miss soobin and the members' happiness so so much, i just hope they all get the support they need from each other or from other people.
so it's [platonic] beomgyu x reader, with [obviously] soogyu / bestiez, not romantically ofc. hurt / comfort, crying
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you look at the screen of your phone with a heavy heart, probably the heaviest it's been since soobin announced he finally agreed to take a break. it was beomgyu's schedule, a 'beomidio' live, but it was obvious he felt down from the very beginning.
everyone missed soobin, and the dorm was much quieter—not even because there were no sounds from soobin anymore: the cooking noise, gaming shouts, or soft bright laughs at some stupid dad joke by yeonjun—but because somehow, everyone still hasn’t figured out how to function properly with one of them gone.
but it was probably the most difficult for beomgyu. he kept joking about it in the group chat, trying not to worry soobin, who was reading everything. sometimes, he even cracked some jokes offline, but it never fooled anyone—mostly because you all felt the same way. everyone knew it wasn’t easy for him, but he shut down the day soobin left the dorm, brushing everyone off since then. he always said he was fine, just tired.
no one pried, giving him space, because that’s what beomgyu always does for others. but now, as you look at the back of his head on your phone screen—he had turned away from the camera, unable to keep his tears in anymore—you wondered if maybe you should’ve pushed him a little to open up.
you waited in the hall, sitting nearby the small room where beomgyu was holding his live. a bag with some snacks and one of soobin's hoodies—soobin didn’t even question it when you asked, just said to take what anyone needed—sat on the couch next to you.
it wasn’t surprising when a bunch of notifications from the group chat started popping up on your screen the moment beomgyu turned away, full of worry and support for him. there wasn’t any message from soobin in the chat, but you guessed he decided to text beomgyu privately. there’s no way soobin wouldn’t watch everything happening with txt.
when you saw beomgyu waving goodbye to the camera, his eyes still red and puffy, you stood up and grabbed the bag. you were already by the door when he said his last goodbyes and turned the live off, but suddenly, you weren’t sure how to approach him. it had never been a problem before, but this was the first time he seemed this low.
a quiet ringtone from behind the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you swore you heard a sob before a soft "hello." you knew it had to be either yeonjun or soobin calling beomgyu right after the live ended—but most likely soobin.
you opened the door cautiously, whispering his name softly so you wouldn’t startle him. you wanted him to know it was you, that he didn’t need to hide his tears or hold anything back. the moment he saw you, though, the sob he let out was even more broken than before.
he crossed the room in just a few steps and clung to you, his strength barely controlled. his phone was still in his hand, and you could hear soobin’s gentle voice trying to calm him, trying to soothe all the hurting feelings. you wrapped your arms around his shaking body, rubbing his back and whispering encouragements, promising everything would be okay.
you felt him hold onto you tighter, his fist gripping the back of your sweater. his forehead rested on your shoulder as he finally let out all the tears he’d been bottling up for more than a week. for the first time, he showed both you and soobin how tired he really was, how much soobin’s absence was affecting him.
as his sobs grew quieter and less frequent, you could feel his weight pressing heavier against you. it seemed like he was so drained emotionally that he could barely hold himself up anymore. you were torn between making him sit down in the chair he used for the live or just lowering both of you to the floor.
but the last thing any of you needed was for another member to get sick, so you gently guided him to the chair. beomgyu understood and sat down, his elbows resting on his knees and his forehead in his hand. soobin’s soft voice continued to calm him through the phone.
you crouched down in front of him, one hand gently rubbing his knee while the other reached into the bag. you pulled out the snacks first to get to the hoodie. as you finally laid the hoodie on his lap, beomgyu looked up at you, wide-eyed. he recognized the scent of soobin’s perfume you’d sprayed on it to make it feel even more like him.
"i brought it for you," you said quietly, smiling a little. "soobin said it’s okay."
beomgyu sniffled again, gripping the hoodie tightly and holding it close to his chest. he whispered a small "thank you," and you knew it was meant for both you and soobin. you also knew that everyone in the dorm would be all over beomgyu soon, comforting him, making sure he knew he wasn’t alone.
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