#ANYWAY... I just have so much to do that I both REALLY want or need to do - so it's perpetually frustrating that I just can't for whatever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

megamindsecretlair · 2 days ago

Note

hey i just need something real nasty between husband and wife with mr.aaron (i say it key and peele😂😂) with some angst before the actual plot🤭

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive, beautiful.

Made You Fall For Me

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, teasing (fem and male receiving), PIV, oral (female receiving), Reader is able to be picked up, use of pet names, angst. Mentions of death of a loved one, trauma. All consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: It had been two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death and Terry still beat himself up over it. Tired of Terry not letting you in, you join him in the shower and show him that he has a life to lead right here and now with you. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog

Word Count: 5,371k

AO3 Link

A/N: Thank you so much for dealing with my hiatus. I'm stronger mentally than I have ever been. Definitely worked on myself and stopped being so hard on myself. The kind asks really helped me find my way back, so have this smutty fic as a giant thank you! Thank you so much for all your continued support! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry sighed as he entered the bedroom. You looked up from your phone to watch your husband.

His tall frame moved fluidly around the space, taking off of his pants and his shirt. It was soaked through having just finished at the gym. He sat on the edge of the bed to fling off his socks and toss it in the knit hamper.

“Hey babe,” you said.

“Hey baby,” Terry sighed.

You stared at the back of his head as his shoulders drooped the longer he sat on the bed. He looked so…dejected. Like someone sucked the air from his tires. You leaned up and let your powder blue throw blanket fall from your shoulders.

This was the second week in a row that your husband was still in this funk. Two weeks since the anniversary of Mike’s death where it seemed like Terry relived it all over again. It started with a dream, the very moment he ran into the hospital carrying Summer. Hopped up on adrenaline, a bullet in his shoulder, and him looking for the next threat.

Then he would slowly withdraw mentally, checking out of conversations. Floating through the motions of going to work and getting back home. You were worried that he would get into an accident but he was able to operate on auto-pilot, navigating the world just as he normally would.

It was both sad and amazing that he was able to do so. But this wasn’t your husband. This was a guilt ridden man who sometimes realized that he had no family. You were his family, of course, but he had no living blood relative alive. Mike was his one and only connection and that was severed by hate and pride.

“Baby, will you please talk to me?” You asked. You fiddled with the edge of your phone. He wasn’t facing you, but you were still nervous to look at his face. You didn’t know which would be worse. Hearing you and choosing not to speak or not hearing you at all because he was lost somewhere you couldn’t reach?

“I-I’m trying,” he said. He tilted his head to the side. You longed to comfort him, hold him, console him in some way. But every time you reached out, he would stare at you as if he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel you.

You didn’t know how to help him through this. You’ve lost people, sure, but you always had enough family and friends to fall back on. You didn’t know what it was like for him and he was too stubborn to let you take some of his pain.

You moved forward and crawled on the bed towards him. He stiffened as you got closer and you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You held on and placed your hand over his heart. It beat rapidly beneath your fingers and you inwardly sighed in relief. He was still in there. His heart still beat.

“You have to stop beating yourself up about this. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself forever,” you said. You kissed his back and rested your cheek on his skin. He was always so warm, like your own personal fire pit. But due to the sweat, he was cold and clammy.

“I was supposed to protect him. That was my one and only job,” Terry said.

“You were supposed to love him. But what happened was out of your control,” you said.

Terry sighed and stood up, breaking your embrace. He hung his head as he walked to the bathroom. The door closed decisively and you flinched from the harsh sound. The light turned on underneath the doorway. The shower turned on and you didn’t hear anything further.

Some days you wanted to knock your husband’s teeth in. His overprotective instincts went into hyperdrive, past the point of what was healthy. He refused to think of himself and the consequence be damned. Other times, you just wanted to wrap him in a floofy blanket and never let him out of your sight. You couldn’t very well fault him for wanting to keep you safe when you were the exact same way.

But this…it varied on when he’d be able to pull himself out of this. Sometimes you’d say or do something to bring him back. Sometimes he’d take a deep breath and release that dark cloud. And sometimes, he’d disappear for a whole day and return back to the sweet, loving man you married.

But fuck this. You missed your husband. And you were tired of seeing him walk around like a zombie. You got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom.

Steam rushed out and passed over your exposed skin. You closed the door behind you and noted the discarded underwear on the floor and a red towel on the edge of the sink. Terry’s silhouette moved just behind the foggy glass doors.

You quickly stripped, flinging your lavender sleep set to the ground with his briefs. You stuffed your bonnet beneath a shower cap and slid the glass doors back. Terry looked over his shoulder at you and you entered the spacious shower behind him.

The custom shower with tiles painted in different shades of brown was roomy enough for about three people comfortably if they were all intimate. Water cascaded down from a waterfall shower head, pouring down over Terry’s strong body. Water dripped from the edge of his wide nose, his full lips, and his well-defined chest. You followed the trail of water down his belly and over his long, thick dick. Water fell down in his long legs and huge feet.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m taking a shower,” you said. You shoved past him and grabbed your wash cloth, pulling it under the spray of water to get it wet.

Terry huffed. “Had to be now?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘P’. Instead of grabbing your favorite soap, you grabbed his and lathered up the wash cloth.

“C’mon,” Terry said. He tugged on your arm for you to turn around.

You did so and slapped the wash cloth against his chest. “I miss you,” you said, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He closed his mouth and grimaced, jaw flexing.

You flattened both of your hands against his chest and stepped closer. Water hit your back at a lukewarm temperature. You had no clue how he could shower like this but that wasn’t the point. “I miss my husband and I need you to come back, right now,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes and his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something but the words never came. Whatever he wanted to say lodged in his throat and he couldn’t choke it out.

“So after this shower, you better step out of it and remember that you did everything right for Mike. And he made his own choices. That’s not your fault. It has never been your fault. And it’s time you accept that,” you said.

You moved the wash cloth over his skin, scrubbing him down. Soap transferred to his body in thick suds, falling down his skin. He watched you and shut his mouth as you scrubbed him all over his chest and moved on to his arms.

His eyes never left yours as you massaged the cloth between his fingers. He sighed and hummed as you found tense spots. You rubbed him deeper in those areas, working out the tension.

You maneuvered behind him so he could rinse and then washed his back, creating big circles of soap. You moved down to his ass, teasing him a bit. He grunted and then chuckled. Well, that was a good sign. If he was chuckling then at least he was starting to relax.

You washed down his legs, tickling him in areas. He danced out of your way and you warned him to be careful in this slippery ass shower.

“If you die, I’ll bring you back and kill you again,” you warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and smirked.

You worked your way back to his front. His dick twitched and bobbed in your face. You looked up at him and his head was tilted to the side as he looked down at you. Fuck, he was pretty like this. Above you, staring at you, and in all his naked glory.

He needed to walk around like this more often. For your eyes only. That beautiful male body needed to be on display 24/7.

You looked at his dick and then slowly dragged your eyes up his body and back to his striking ocean eyes. He took in a deep breath as his mouth curved upward. The rise and fall of his chest had an answering throb in your clit. You dropped to your knees on the hard flooring but it barely registered in your mind.

Your husband worked his way back to you in the best way you both knew how. Sex was everything to the both of you. The one way you knew you were on solid ground. From the moment you two met, it had been electric and consuming. Always finding ways to touch each other or be near each other and breathe each other’s air.

You dragged the wash cloth over his dick. At the first press of your hand, he hissed and jerked his hips towards you. You steadied your left hand on his hip and then stroked him with your right.

He lifted his head towards the showerhead and let the water run down his face. Since he leaned back, water fell on top of your head and face but you kept looking towards him and the look on his face.

He was hands down the most beautiful man you had ever met. And the kindest. He wasn’t always nice. He had more than enough words to say about folks that crossed him. But he was always kind, always treated people with respect. And he was a gentleman on top of it. Always opened your doors, always stood on the side of the street closest to danger. Every day, you found new ways to fall in love with your man. You only wished he’d forgive himself.

“I love you. And I miss you. I need you to come back,” you told him. You increased the pressure, giving him long, slow strokes. All the way down to his base, squeezed, and then worked your way back to his tip.

He groaned and rolled his neck, moving his hips. Your pussy throbbed seeing cum leak from his tip. He leaned one hand on the side of the shower, fingers pushing into the grooves.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“You have to let me in when things get dark, Terry. I don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside,” you told him.

Terry nodded his head and his eyes turned darker. But he didn’t look so far away now. His eyes were clearer, more present. “I hate feeling like I failed,” he said. His jaw flexed and you matched him stare for stare.

“You did everything you possibly could. You deserve a life too. Not to punish yourself for the life Mike doesn’t have,” you said. You paused stroking and let the sound of the shower fill the room.

Steam rose to the ceiling in wispy clouds. Soap and water rushed down Terry’s body. His chest rose and fell in heaving sighs but then evened out. Once his breathing returned to normal, you began stroking him again.

He groaned and dropped his head as you increased your strokes. You watched his face and watched the emotions play across his features. His lush lips parted and he moaned, deeply and guttural. “I’m gonna bust,” he moaned.

“Give it to me,” you whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the spray of water. You kept your same pace and three strokes later, Terry’s dick throbbed and his cum splashed onto your neck and titties.

Terry’s moans were sweet music to your ears. You grinned evilly and kept stroking. He jerked and stuttered with chuckles and reached out to still your hands. He huffed and chuckled, giving you a saucy wink.

He pulled you up by your arms and crushed his lips to yours as soon as you were within reach. He grabbed the cloth from your hands and hung it on the lip of the shower door. He cupped your neck in both hands and angled your face to meet his rough kisses. You moaned into his mouth. You missed this. You missed him. So damn badly.

The ache in your chest finally lifted now that your man was back. He healed and soothed with every kiss, every swipe of his tongue, every caress of his thumb on your wet skin. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered between kisses.

“It’s okay,” you whispered back.

Terry pulled back and looked into your eyes. He narrowed his and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “I will call and get help later today. There’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You deserve better from me,” he said.

You tilted your head and kissed his wrist. “I do. But I also know we’re in this for life. So I need you to let me in more,” you said.

Terry nodded. “I promise. Thank you, for sticking with me through this shit,” he said.

“That’s what wives are for,” you said with a giggle.

Terry took a deep breath and then a mischievous gleam made his hazel eyes twinkle. A smirk curved his lips and he began to massage your neck. You hummed and your eyes drooped. “Husbands are for protecting you and taking care of you, right?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said slowly, eyeing him. He was up to something…

Terry flipped you around and pressed your chest against the glass shower doors. You cried out from the sudden cold on your nipples as he pushed until your titties flattened against the doors. He kicked your legs wider to spread for him and your body shivered from his casual roughness.

“T-Terry,” you sighed.

Terry locked your arms behind you, hooking his arm around your elbows so that you were unable to move. Terry licked the shell of your ear and you shuddered. He slipped his free hand around your throat to pull your neck back and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna make up for my bullshit,” he promised with heat laced through every syllable.

“Terry, you don’t–”

Terry cut you off by moving his hand from your neck to his dick. He ran the tip through your dripping folds and then plunged inside with a rough thrust. “Oh shit!” You cried out, twisting your hands to try and slow him down. But because he had your arms trapped, you had no choice but to take his dick.

He angled your hips into a more comfortable position and then he slipped his hand back around your throat. He grunted with every deep thrust, filling you up, and making you take it.

“Too much, too much,” you whined, trying to lean away from him. Terry pushed into you harder, pinning you to the door, while he continued to fuck you. Your forehead leaned on the doors and your breath fogged up the glass with your moans and sighs.

“You can take it, baby,” he said, sinking you deeper and harder onto his length. He kissed your neck, licked and nibbled in areas, and moved upwards to your ear. “I love you so much. And I know I’ve been an ass. I haven’t been fair to you,” he whispered in your ear while he continued to dig into your guts.

You weren’t quite prepared for him to be so sweet and so nasty all at once. He gave you no time to fully hear his message or fully focus on his dick inside you so you were stuck in a twisted limbo. Suspended between absolute pleasure and your heart swelling with emotions.

“That ends today, okay? I’ll prove that I’ll do better,” he said. He grunted and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned.

“That’s my job as your husband. And it’s a job I take seriously,” he said. He smiled against your neck and then pulled you into a rough kiss over your shoulder. Your lips danced and played with each other as your orgasm rushed to the surface.

You began to cry and stutter as it washed over you. Terry moaned as you squeezed around his dick. “Fuck, that’s it,” he panted into your ear.

When you came down, Terry let your arms go. He slipped out with a grunt and stepped back. You missed the heat of him instantly. He rubbed the feeling back into your arms from having them bent back for so long. He grabbed the discarded wash cloth from the top of the shower and rinsed it out.

He lathered up with his soap and then carefully washed down your back and your ass. His finger slipped between your cheeks to tease as he washed you down and you giggled with him.

Terry turned you around and washed down your front. Washed the cum from your chest that didn’t rinse off from the water. You smiled at each other, finding your way back with every swipe of the cloth across your titties, your tummy, and down your thighs. He ran the cloth between your legs, careful not to get soap in between, and you moaned just from having his hands on you again.

His lips on yours. His eyes seeing you again after weeks of zoning out. Hints of your husband poked through that barrier he erected and now you were let in behind the wall. You grinned at him and leaned on your toes for a kiss.

The kiss was meant to be innocent and sweet, just something to show that you loved him. That you were there and never letting him disappear again. But Terry kissed you deeper, grabbing you about the neck once more and crushed his lips to yours.

His tongue slipped inside and then he gently nibbled on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Terry,” you sighed. Your stomach flipped with desire. Pussy throbbing. Once wasn’t nearly enough.

“I know,” he said. He lifted your chin and brought you in for a sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss even as he maneuvered you towards the shower wall. He lifted you by the ass to wrap your legs around his hips.

“Fuck,” you cried out. It never ceased to amaze you that he was so strong. He worked hard in the gym to take care of himself but also to lift every pound you had. He lifted without effort, without strain, and grinned when he caught the look on your face.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Terry said. He stared into your eyes as he pushed back into you. Back into your warm, wet heat and you both groaned as he pushed in slowly, all the way down to the base.

Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, clutching on for dear life. He was huge and thick. Long. He pulled back and then sank in once more, repeating this over and over to make you feel every last inch of him. Feel his mushroom head push against your soft, spongy walls welcoming him in.

Your mouth dropped open, needing to release something. A cry, a moan, a word. Nothing came as he stroked into you, increasing with each one. Soon, he was slamming into you. His wet, loud strokes echoed in the tiled shower and your cries soon joined it.

“You feelin’ me?” He asked.

You nodded. You adjusted your arms around his neck and he dropped his forehead to yours.

“Look at me,” he whispered. You locked your eyes with him and it somehow made his strokes even more intense. He throbbed inside you.

“You feel me. Right here and now. I’m not going anywhere. I’m never going away again,” he moaned while he stroked.

“Terry,” you sniffled.

Fuck, this was all you ever wanted. You didn’t need him to be perfect. You didn’t need him to be a textbook definition of a husband. You just wanted him present and with you. Sharing his pain and his joys. Sickness and health. Better and worse. Those were the vows you swore before a room full of your close friends and family.

“I feel you. I feel you right here,” you promised.

Terry switched up his strokes, getting deeper than before and bottoming out. You both groaned and threw your heads back, getting lost in the sensation of him filling you up. Connecting the both of you. As close as you could possibly be to another human being.

Terry leaned down and kissed you, playing with your lips, even as his hips slammed into you over and over. Pressure built in your belly, making your thighs quake and your arms tremble. “Terry, please, I can’t,” you begged. It was too much. It felt like you were out of control, out of your norm, unrooted.

Terry only continued exactly what he was doing. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You can keep going,” he said.

Your eyes swam and your vision turned blurry as you clung to him and came undone on his dick again. Your cries were loud enough to echo and bounce off of the tiled walls and ceiling, giving you a feedback loop of your own pleasure. It amplified your orgasm and you shut your eyes and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling.

Terry kissed you all over your face, neck, and shoulders. He pumped you into you until his own hips stuttered and shot loads of thick cum into your pussy. You whined and shivered as he fucked his cum deeper and deeper.

He slowed to a gradual stop and you stayed connected like that while you both recovered. Water still pelted the both of you and you kissed on each other, soaking up the moment. Terry leaned over and turned off the water, still holding you.

He smiled and kissed your lips. He nuzzled your nose. “Missed this,” he said.

“Me too,” you said. You kissed his cheek.

Terry carefully stepped out of the shower with you still wrapped around him like a spider monkey. You were glad. Because now that you had him back, you weren’t ready to let him go. As if you would keep him here with you by sheer force of will.

He moved the towel from the edge of the sink and placed you down, slipping out of you. You kissed and loved on each other while he dried the both of you off. Greedy for more, you reached between you to play with his heavy balls.

Terry groaned and tilted his head down at you. “You sure you wanna do that?” He asked.

You continued fondling his balls, rubbing them between your fingers, and making him moan. His hips canted towards yours and you bit your lip, needing him back inside. Two orgasms weren’t enough. No number would satisfy you.

“It’s been too long,” you pouted and looked at him.

He chuckled and kissed you, taking possession of your poked out lip. He suckled on it and you moaned, feeling your pussy respond and ache from just this small action.

“Get that sexy ass on our bed. Let me clean up in here and I’ll take care of that,” he said.

You pouted again and whined but he bit your lip. “Now.” He deepened his voice and arched a perfect eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes and his eyebrow lifted higher. You grinned and hopped off the sink. While being punished for your attitude would be fun, you just wanted him right now. No extras, no games. You wanted to enjoy him and enjoy his body.

He smacked your ass as you walked out and he chuckled after you shrieked and hid your ass behind your hands. You skipped to your bedroom and laid down on your bed. Cool air blew across your damp skin but it wasn’t freezing or uncomfortable.

The temperature was just right to make you hyper aware of your body. Of the feel of your skin and the thorough fucking Terry just gave you. Your pussy was still sensitive but you couldn’t resist teasing your clit. You ran your other hand along your skin, your belly, and your titties. Squeezing your nipple between your fingers and moaning from the dual sensations.

“Terry…” you called out, drawing out his name. If he didn’t get in here soon, you were about to take matters into your own hands.

The afternoon sun was setting low, rich oranges and golds slanting through your curtains and casting a warm glow about your room. Most days, you hated that your place faced east and west, but on lazy days like today, it was perfect.

Terry moved about the bathroom, you had no clue what he was doing. So you closed your eyes and continued to play with yourself. You grew wetter by the second, your mind filling in with images of Terry’s broad chest. His narrow hips. That monster he had between his legs and the unbridled pleasure he managed to provide every single time.

God, you loved that man. In every which way you were able to get him. You didn’t have the words to convey it but you’d spend the rest of your life trying to find them.

You moaned as your imagination took over. Replaying what happened in the shower, the look on his face, the fire in his hazel eyes. You sighed as Terry entered the room.

“Oh, you bold,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t stop though. You spread your legs further and shifted on the bed so that he could get a clearer view. “All warmed up for you,” you teased.

Terry’s eyes dropped to the core of you, at the way you held your pussy lips open. Your other hand teased around your clit in figure eights, dipping into your pussy every so often to gather up more essence.

Terry’s tongue swiped out to lick from one side to the other. Your fingers lost their rhythm. “Keep going,” he commanded.

You whined and started up again but you couldn’t think straight. Not with him leaning against the wall looking at you like you were a five course meal and he was a starving man. When you just couldn’t find that spot again, Terry smirked and walked closer.

“What happened?” He asked.

“You,” you said.

Terry smirked and took his time kneeling at the edge of the bed. He grabbed your thighs and pressed his thumbs to your inner thighs, massaging them. “Fuck,” you moaned and twisted, trying to close your legs and trap his hands there.

“Naw. Open back up. That’s what you get for trying to handle it yourself,” he said.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you,” you said and smirked. Terry lifted an eyebrow but his eyes were still on your throbbing pussy. He had to see how you were clenching around nothing. Clenching and reaching for him.

He leaned down and kissed your clit. He retreated too quickly for your blood and you whined, pushing your hips back towards his face.

“I’m still apologizing so I won’t make you beg this time,” he said. Without further ado, he dragged his pink, juicy lips through your folds, hunting for your clit. His tongue darted out and teased, dragging the tip through your folds. His tongue was warm as it flattened against your clit and he licked.

“Fuck!” You screamed out.

Terry smiled between your legs before getting down to business. He suckled and licked and nibbled while he feasted on your pussy. Your pussy throbbed and ached while he slurped up your essence noisily.

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” you moaned.

Terry locked in to the spot and swirled his tongue around in tight circles. You clutched to the covers, nails digging in for dear life as you twisted and jerked. You reached down to grab onto the back of his head and push his head deeper.

Terry placed his hands to your thighs and pinned them to the bed while he ate you out, never stopping for breath. He just ate like a man possessed until you were twitching and crying out on his tongue, reaching your climax in record time.

Terry continued to eat you out through it, whispering into your pussy how perfect and sexy you were. How much he had to make up for. Your throat was scratched raw from all the moaning you were doing, too spent to respond. To tell him that he didn’t have a damn thing to make up for. His pain was valid and he had a right to see it through, but he had to see it through. Not just disappear into his head.

None of that came through. Your vision swam as you looked at the popcorn ceiling, too blissed out to form a coherent sentence. Terry replaced the view of the ceiling, leaning down on his fists, as he smirked at you.

“Still with me?” He asked.

“Always,” you sighed.

He chuckled as he climbed onto the bed. It dipped beneath his weight, jostling you a bit. His knees pushed your legs on top of his thighs. His eyes sparkled as he slipped into you, meeting no resistance from your pussy.

“Shit,” you grunted. You pushed feebly at his chest. Not necessarily to make him stop, but fuck, you needed time to recover. Time to catch your breath. He stole the motherfucker, the least he could do was let you gain it back.

“Nothing feels better than this,” he said. He sank deeper into you, making you curl into him and squeeze his hips with your legs. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, poking your chest out for his lips to capture your nipples.

He suckled on them, going back and forth between the two, while he fucked into you lazily. Unhurried. Like he managed to pause time long enough to focus on delivering you pleasure. His eyes found yours and he smiled, his dazzling grin turning you stupid and pliant.

He groaned as he felt your body relax and he dug into you, harder, deeper, faster. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” you moaned.

“Cum with me, baby,” he said.

You whined and focused on cumming with him like he said. You could feel him throbbing inside you, close, oh so close. You panted, sweating, legs trembling, back bowing. He leaned to one side so that he could slip his free hand between your legs to play with your clit.

Your moans increased to a near panic as your orgasm came running at his beck and call. You cried out and your squeezing pussy milked him. He moaned and dropped his head as he spilled into you over and over, his body trembling from the force.

He kissed your cheek but you otherwise laid there and enjoyed the feeling of him crushing you to the bed. Who needed oxygen anyway?

Your stomach rumbled, breaking the beautiful silence after such a powerful moment. You both laughed as it rumbled again. Terry released your hands and you covered your tummy. He pushed your hands away with his chin and then kissed your belly.

“We’re gonna need another shower and then I need to feed my wife,” he said.

“Feed your wife or feed your wife?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows. You were spent and tired but you could find another round in you for him. Always for him.

“Both, nasty ass,” he said. He stood up and then pulled you with him to stand as well. He gave you a sweet, tender kiss and promised over and over with both his tongue and his actions that he would become a man worthy of your love.

The end.

I love you all. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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m-ayo-o · 2 days ago

Text

call me !

ft. 21+ bf Toge Inumaki

Thinking of 21+ Toge Inumaki who calls you up at work just to make you...

"come"

Not here, no no no no--

Your body struggles to resist his power, but after a few seconds you're squirming in your office chair.

Bringing your hand to cover your flushed face, you start telling him that it's not funny and that his lunch break check ups were really sweet..

Until this started.

It's not as if you two can talk much anyway, it's just nice to hear him on the other side of the phone; even his breath, or his laugh.

But when he gets into this mischievous mood you know he won't stop.

"Toge, I'm hanging up I have to--"

"stay on the phone"

"Ah- Toge--!!!" You scream, alerting your co-workers who start looking over their desks.

"Toge.." you shout whisper, cupping the phone to your face, "you can't keep me on the phone all day- I have to work!!"

You hear him giggling from the other side, making you wonder what the hell he's planning next.

"go to the bathroom"

For fuck's sake.

You groan and your body gets up by itself, taking you to a private bathroom stall where your arm rises and opens the door.

Having your body move like this was very unusual the first few times, but you're getting used to the feeling of being completely controlled, and realistically you do trust him.

"lock the door"

You can't help but think he's wasting his power, messing with you like this.

"touch yourself"

"Toge..."

Your face heats up immediately as your free hand starts roaming around your body, undoing your blouse, feeling under your bra.

It's like he's actually here, touching you himself.

"touch your clit"

"ah.. Toge.."

He wants you to feel it.

Making you come on command is fun and all, but it's over so quickly and he really loves to build you up.

He wishes he could tell you so many things.

But right now he would love to tell you what a good girl you are and that he's imagining how pretty you look.

And with your skirt pushed up and your blouse undone, looking all hot and bothered.. he isn't wrong.

"take a picture of yourself"

"Oh~ Toge.. really?" You're moaning and complaining about the matter but you've already opened the camera on your phone.

Your finger presses the screen and a series of cute, filthy pictures are taken. Between your hand down your panties, rubbing yourself, and your boobs spilling out of your top, you do make a very pretty picture.

He doesn't have to tell you the next part.

You send them to him immediately and hear him moan from the other side.

"Ohh.." fuck, he wishes he could thank you for those.

But instead he just pushes his hands down his shorts and starts stroking himself.

You can hear him starting to breathe heavier and you know exactly what he's doing.

"Toge.. I.. have to.. get back t--"

"Uuhh.." another moan comes through the phone and you know you're staying on the line till you're both done.

You know what he wants.

"Toge.. will you help me come?"

You can hear his breathy panting from the other side but not a word in a reply.

But he's focusing on your voice, the way you're whimpering his name, the shortness of your breath. The precum is just dripping out of him at the sight of your pictures and he needs to hear you a little more.

"Toge.. I wanna come.. now.." your finger is circling around your wet clit, just like you would do if you were alone. But you haven't been alone in so long, having such an attentive partner as Toge. He would never let you do this by yourself normally. And now you're here, locked in the bathroom at work, fingering yourself weakly, you're having trouble.

"Toge.. I need.. help.."

You admit, you sound pathetic.

But it's getting him harder.

"Ugh.." you hear him grunt and he's biting his lip on the other side, gripping his phone to his ear so he can hear your every breath.

He needs more, though.

"beg"

Your thighs start trembling now, your head rushes with the feeling of his power, once again, and your mouth opens automatically-

"Please.. please let me, let me come, Toge?" you plead down the phone, afraid that any second the bathroom door could open and one of your hapless colleagues could walk into you whimpering to yourself.

"Toge.. I'm begging, please, please tell me to come..."

The embarrassment overwhelms you with the words spilling out of your mouth, but he has got exactly what he wanted.

Oh, how he wishes he could stroke your hair and give you a kiss for begging him so nicely.

But instead he will reward you with pleasure.

"come"

"I-- ahh-- Toge.. th- thank you.."

Your relieved and happy moans take him over the edge, as he gets his own release, sighing down the phone as he finishes with a grin on his face.

A few seconds pass as you both catch your breath and regain your senses.

"Toge, you're a menace," you roll your eyes, buttoning up your shirt and pulling your skirt back into place.

You laugh together over the phone and you hang up, getting a text shortly after-

see you later for round two ^^

toge

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #21+ toge #toge inumaki #toge #toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

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Title: "Three's a Party"

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x Aubrey Griffin x fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: three's not a croud if you're with the right people...

Taglist: @elalfywhore @paxaz535

The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears as I leaned against the lockers in the women’s basketball locker room, waiting for KK. The team had just obliterated Seton Hall, 96-36, and the energy in the building was electric. I’d come to every home game this season, partly to support KK and partly because… well, I might’ve developed not one but two massive crushes on two of her teammates: Paige Bueckers and Aubrey Griffin.

They were both captivating in their own way. Paige was smooth-talking and confident, with a sly grin that could make anyone’s knees weak. Aubrey was quieter but no less magnetic, her quiet strength and warmth pulling me in. And as much as I tried to play it cool, KK had caught on to my predicament weeks ago.

“You good, Y/N?” KK’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts as she appeared beside me, still in her jersey and with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

“Huh? Yeah, totally,” I lied, standing up straighter.

“You’re lying,” she said, giving me a knowing look. “Is this about the dynamic duo?”

“What? No!” I squeaked, but KK just raised an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She shook her head, clearly unimpressed. “You better figure it out before they drive me insane trying to one-up each other.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

KK smirked. “Oh, nothing. You’ll see.”

It didn’t take long to understand what she meant. Paige caught up with me in the hallway as I waited for KK to finish changing. She leaned casually against the wall beside me, her smile disarming.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice smooth. “You coming out to celebrate tonight?”

“I was thinking about it,” I replied, trying not to get lost in those piercing blue eyes.

“Well,” she said, leaning in slightly, “if you want something more low-key, I was thinking we could hang out. Just the two of us. You know, celebrate properly.”

My cheeks heated. “Oh, um… I’ll think about it.”

“Cool,” she said, her grin widening. “Let me know.” With a wink, she sauntered off down the hallway, leaving me flustered.

Before I could fully recover, Aubrey appeared. Her approach was quieter, but the intensity in her gaze made my heart race.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “You were great cheering tonight. We could hear you.”

I laughed nervously. “Thanks. You all didn’t really need it, though. That was a blowout.”

“Still,” she said, her lips twitching into a small smile. “You always show up for us.”

I shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “Of course. KK’s my cousin.”

“Not just for KK,” Aubrey said, her eyes holding mine for a moment too long. “Anyway, I was thinking… if you’re not doing anything later, maybe we could grab a bite. Just us.”

My heart did a flip. “Oh, uh… maybe. I’ll let you know.”

She nodded, her expression unreadable, before heading back toward the locker room. I watched her go, my stomach twisting into knots.

Later, as KK and I walked back to my dorm, I groaned. “What am I supposed to do? Paige wants to hang out. Aubrey wants to hang out. I can’t choose, KK. They’re both… perfect.”

KK snorted. “Perfect? Please. Paige talks too much, and Aubrey broods too much.”

“KK,” I whined, smacking her arm lightly.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, Y/N, you don’t have to pick. You could just… I don’t know… make it a group thing.”

I shot her a look. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t be awkward.”

KK shrugged. “Whatever. I’m just saying, you don’t have to stress about it. Besides, it’s obvious they both like you.”

“Thanks, that helps so much,” I said sarcastically.

She laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop meddling. But seriously, they need to chill before I have to beat them up.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I’d pay to see that.”

What I didn’t know was that KK wasn’t done meddling. When we got back to my dorm, she excused herself with a suspiciously vague excuse and disappeared. Thirty minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find both Paige and Aubrey standing there, looking equally confused.

“What…?” I began, but KK appeared behind them, grinning.

“Three’s a party, right?” she said, winking at me before walking off. “Y’all figure it out.”

Paige and Aubrey exchanged glances before looking at me. “So… this is awkward,” Paige said, scratching the back of her neck.

“No kidding,” Aubrey muttered.

I sighed, stepping aside to let them in. “Come in. I guess we’re celebrating together.”

They both hesitated before stepping inside, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward they looked. For two people who were usually so confident on the court, they seemed completely out of their depth.

It didn’t take long for the tension to ease, though. We ordered pizza, turned on some music, and started talking about everything from basketball to embarrassing childhood stories. By the time the food arrived, we were all laughing like old friends.

“So, Y/N,” Paige said, leaning back against the couch. “Be honest. Who were you gonna pick?”

Aubrey shot her a look. “Smooth, Paige. Real smooth.”

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I’m curious!” Paige said, grinning. “Come on, just tell us.”

“No way,” I said, shaking my head.

“Fine,” Aubrey said, smirking. “We’ll just have to guess.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Game on.”

The two of them spent the rest of the night playfully competing for my attention, from seeing who could make me laugh the hardest to who could stack the most pizza slices on one plate without it toppling over. By the end of it, my cheeks hurt from smiling.

As the night wound down, I found myself sitting between them on the couch, my head resting on Aubrey’s shoulder while Paige played with the hem of my sweatshirt.

“Okay,” Paige said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “I have an idea.”

“Oh no,” Aubrey said, though she was smiling.

“Why don’t we just… share?” Paige suggested, looking between the two of us.

I sat up, my heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Paige said, her grin mischievous, “why does it have to be one or the other? We could all hang out. Together. No pressure.”

Aubrey considered this, then shrugged. “I’m not opposed.”

I blinked at them, my mind racing. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Paige said. “Besides, three’s a party, not a crowd, right?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Aubrey said, smiling softly. “But we mean it. No matter what you decide, we’re here for you.”

In that moment, I realized that maybe I didn’t have to choose. And with Paige and Aubrey by my side, I knew one thing for sure: this was going to be one hell of a ride.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

#support the writers!#gabi writes #gabi answers #oneshot #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #aubrey griffin #aubrey griffin x reader #wbb x reader

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xhda1449x · 1 day ago

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okay so I have Opinions TM about this because. well. am asexual. know asexual people. Been Like That before.

I had a friend. She's not my friend anymore. One of the reasons why is that she was a very sex negative asexual. Not repulsed, negative. Sex negative means Against It As A Concept. Repulsed means "ew, I really don't want to hear about any of it and I'm kinda disgusted by the way sexual attraction seems to run the world but yknow, that's me, y'all do you", right. It's a different thing. Some aces don't understand that.

I've known aces who think it's the identity for sex negativity. Aces who are attracted to people in an allo way (!!!) but think sex is gross. The friend I had was like that. Afaik she just... hated men so much she decided that wanting sex with women As A Guy is disgusting behavior so all sex is like that. Because she'd only use the "sex repulsed" card when interacting with guys. Because she was a lesbian and identified as such. Now yeah there are ace lesbians. I've also known a few of those. But that's not the point, the point is that so many people who don't want to have conventional PiV sex find the ace label and think it's for them.

Now uhhh my personal experience with the sex negativity excused as being sex repulsed mindset. So I have ocd. something most people around me know about. Over the years of Me Having It (so like... since I was 8 ig) it manifested in different ways. One of the most annoying intrusive thoughts I'd dealt with was just... my friends, my family members, in sexual situations. Not with me, just kinda... abstract, I guess, but one time I had a wholeass flashback because my friend told me he did indeed sleep with his girlfriend regularly so that's something. It's not really fun, imagining your two platonic-and-nothing-else friends Having Sex In Your Head and not being able to stop it. Also yeahhh the trauma def played a role too. Like, that's most likely what triggered me to Have OCD in the first place, and it took me a long time to get over that (mostly because I couldn't really tell anyone about it. I'm not gonna get into details but let's just say people don't really like to think that a young girl could hurt someone like that).

So now I'm in a relationship. First I've ever had. And I had to deal with Everything by being thrown head first into it. The first year was Hard, with another aspect of the ocd (it's always the ocd) being that I'd question my identity a lot. Sure I was dating someone but I was still ace because I didn't want to have sex with them right? Sure I don't mind the thought but I'm still ace because I wouldn't do it irl? SURE I CAN IMAGINE MYSELF DOING IT IRL BUT I'M STILL ACE, RIGHT, ACES CAN HAVE SEX?????? on top of dealing with Gender Questioning, too. Fun times!!!

But uh. yeah. turns out that I needed some help processing the trauma and now I'm like... the kink-cyclopedia for my friends or something. Like the person in the tags said, it's mostly theoretical. And funny thing is I've Been Like This even when I was a teenager!!! But I both pushed it down because That's Not How Aces Are and overplayed it because I wanted my friends to like me and at the time it seemed as if their only interest was Talking About Sex (idk, teenagers can be like that sometimes, or it can feel that way if you don't relate).

Anyway, yeah. For anyone who's like this (thinking ace is the label for sexual trauma survivors; thinking you're ace because you don't want sex; thinking being ace means being above sexual desires and that somehow making you better than everyone else), I've been there. And it was miserable. I'm still ace, because guess what, I'm still not sexually attracted to anyone besides maybe my partner and even then I'm not sure. But like... the reason why puritans are miserable isn't just because they're all horny and repressed. Building your whole identity on top of Hating Something will always make you miserable. Try to avoid that if you can.

I am both.

#exclusive rin lore for anyone who wants it ig #sorry for going off like this. it's important to me #i'm also sick so Bad At Wording #asexuality

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 3 days ago

Note

Hello I have more Welsh questions I hope that’s okay!

As always, the Duolingo disclaimer because some of their choices seem suspect. Like the first word they made sure to teach me was draig and it did seem a little racist to suggest to me THIS IS GOING TO COME UP A LOT IN WALES YOU HAD BETTER LEARN IT. Of course maybe I’m racist for assuming that’s connected to the Welsh mysticism nonsense and not the flag, or maybe draig does come up often on the streets of Aberteifi. I am here to learn with an open mind and minimal ego.

Anyway. Question one is indeed about places.

1. How do you decide whether a place needs a y with it? I can’t seem to tell, some countries have it and some don’t which confuses this dumb American. Plus it seems like no cities have it?

2. Also on the topic of cities, I can understand that there are places in Wales that have English names and that some don’t. Looks like Abertawe : Swansea v Aberystwyth : Aberystwyth. Two parter - part one, why did some get renamed while others stayed Welsh? Part two, is it preferred to just use the Welsh name? I’m wondering what common practice/preference is.

3. On the topic of common practice, I have a question that I am desperately trying to make as inoffensive as possible because it’s really about the trustworthiness of Duolingo than anything else. But it’s teaching me words that I want to make sure are appropriate. Ysgrifenydd/ysgrifennyddes and gŵr tŷ/gwraig tŷ. Are these still appropriate to use?

Thank you so much! I know you’re not the Welsh ambassador to the internet (or are you??) so I appreciate you being so generous with everyone 💛

I am, of course, 100% the Welsh ambassador to the internet. Or at least, I work in the Tumblr consulate. Ignore the people who say I'm just some random with airs and graces, they're just jealous and you're not to listen.

Okay, so:

1. Definite Articles and Placenames. It's not so much a thing you need to work out grammatically as it is just... part of the name. This sometimes happens in English too - Netherlands is an acceptable country name now, but originally it would have been the Netherlands, just because that's what the name meant. The lands that are low lying.

Welsh just has more country names than English that mean something like that, I think. Some are the same, e.g. (the) Netherlands/(yr) Iseldiroedd; that's a fairly one to one translation, in fact. Some are the same, but a bit more literal than the English has become; Switzerland (the Land of the Swiss) has lost the "the" in English by now, but in Welsh it still clings on as y Swistir.

And then sometimes, we have a very different word for somewhere, but it's no longer clear what the fossilised grammar was. I suppose the biggest example of that is Scotland - yr Alban. It's a bit lost to time, now, but 'Alban' has the same Old Irish root there as the word 'Albion'. Why the definite article? Unknown.

But, we do it for smaller places too, including cities. Welshpool's Welsh name is y Trallwng, which means, like, "the boggy pool", and I suppose it was once a notable enough bog that it was THE bog when giving directions, so the article stayed. This also spills over into Wenglish - the Hafod and the Gower in/around Swansea should both more correctly be Hafod and Gower, but at some point it was THE hafod when giving directions, and the Gower is the abbreviation of the Gower peninsula.

Anyway: TL;DR it's just part of the name, rather than a grammatical choice.

2. Translated Placenames. Part 1:

The short of it is, "Did enough English people settle there that they needed an English name/ the Welsh became Anglicised?" That's usually the rule. Sometimes this meant Anglicisation (Caerdydd-Cardiff), sometimes a ropey-to-exact translation (Penybont - Bridgend), and sometimes a completely new name (Abertawe - Swansea), depending on how easy the Welsh was to say and whether or not there was feature of note that the English focused on.

Occasionally, though, you get the opposite - Wrexham was Wrexham first, and got Cymricised to Wrecsam. It's a rare example of an English city we nicked, see. Founded by the Saxon house of Mercia, on land they'd nicked from north Wales, and then the Welsh reclaimed the area and went 'Ooh, nice city, was this here before?' It's possible it was first called Caer Fantell in Welsh, but it was Gwrexham by the 13th century, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Part 2: You use the name in the language you're speaking, UNLESS it is under active contention for some reason. The national parks are currently pushing to only be known by their Welsh names, for example, ditto a few of the mountains; so, Eryri instead of Snowdonia, Bannau Brycheiniog instead of Brecon Beacons, and yr Wyddfa instead of Snowdon. Also, in recent years they started inventing English language names for villages in Gwynedd for English tourists to feel more comfortable with, which has caused the outrage you'd expect; but those won't be coming up on Duolingo.

With that said, it's sometimes a Welsh Nash signal to only use the Welsh placenames even in English, so don't be surprised if you see people do it.

3. Appropriate words. Not sure what you mean by appropriate here, but I'm guessing you mean because they're gendered terms?

Welsh is a gendered language; that's how it works. In the modern day, there is a slide towards a lot of the old 'feminine' endings being dropped in favour of the masculine becoming used as a gender neutral term, but that's still under development; officially and formally, you still gender it.

I certainly prefer Not doing that. My first two graduate jobs were Conservation Officer and Conservation Manager; my preference was to use Swyddog Cadwraeth and Rheolwr Cadwraeth in Welsh. But others (usually older generations) would write Swyddoges Gadwraeth and Rheolwraig Gadwraeth sometimes, which I personally thought was a bit old fashioned and patronising.

But, I know middle aged women who prefer it, because it makes it clear that it's a woman doing the job. One person's oppression is another's liberation and all that. Also, cis though I am, I am admittedly not always comfortable with the strict trappings of gender, and that probably plays a part.

Bonus answer: dragons are the national animal and very much a symbol of identity, so that's just them being cute lol

Anyway! Thank you so much for trying to learn Welsh! Croeso a diolch.

#asks #wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #linguistics

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fixyourwritinghabits · 2 days ago

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Editing Part 4: Worldbuilding Pass

Next up, worldbuilding! We're tackling this before structure, because you don't want to get too far into the weeds, realize a critical component of your story is wrong, and then throw your computer out the window in frustration.

Anyway, when it comes to worldbuilding, there's a lot of moving parts. There is no right or wrong way to worldbuild, but my preferred approach is to worldbuild as the story goes along. Any method works, and you can check out the worldbuilding tag for more. In editing your worldbuilding, you want to think about:

Trimming Front-loading/Info Dumps

When writing fantasy/sci-fi, getting down how the world works can take over the story. In first drafting, this is fine! But when you're trying to clean that draft up, it's better to weave this information in as you go.

Need to explain how the giant mechas guarding the city operate? Maybe your main character is trying to steal some precious alloy from one, giving you opportunity to explain how they work and how society feels about them. Have a magic system that relies on singing tunes? Show that off by having students practicing, or dueling rivals taking it too far.

You probably know by now that the thing you should avoid the most is "as you know" dialogue dumps - characters explaining concepts to each other that they both clearly understand. Another, weaker version of this is the "magic class" trap, where things are explained to the main character and the reader. A classroom environment is fine, but pair worldbuilding with action - demonstrations get out of hand, spells go wrong, etc. Make it fun!

Your World Needs Clear Rules (Sorry)

Listen, this is the part I hate. I have a WIP with the word "Rules" in the title and I'm still figuring out what those rules are. Argh. But the sooner you know the rules, the easier editing will be. The more clear those rules are to the reader, the more impactful breaking them will be.

If the rules of the world (you can't use warp speed too close to a planet's gravitational pull, the same type of magic cancels each other out) and the consequences of breaking them are clear, the pay-off will be satisfying for both you and the reader.

Use Your Environment to Your Full Advantage

You've no doubt heard 'make setting a character' and that's evergreen advice. Some of the best books out there are those where it feels like you could step through the page and into a real place, be it your childhood middle school or Narnia. Getting that feeling, however, is more than just describing a place really well.

Mood - How does the location make you feel? Does a dark, cramped room leave the characters with a feeling of dread? How would that feeling change if it was an overstuffed library with comfortable chairs?

Weather - Beyond the 'dark and stormy night' descriptions, weather impacts our daily lives and is often overlooked. A rain-drenched funeral scenes seems like it's the way to go, but how differently would that scene feel if it was a sunny day with birds singing?

City Versus Countryside - These books are a great reference for description, but also take a step back to compare how different situations would feel both in the setting and to your character. Quiet can mean very different things depending on where you are. A morning fog in the countryside might feel comforting to someone used to it, but to someone new to that environment, it might feel creepy. Think about both your environment and how your character reacts to it based on their backstory.

The Empty Room Problem

This is always a big challenge when moving from the first draft bare bones basics to fleshing things out. How much description is too much? (As a note, it's always okay to overcorrect - you'll have a chance to fix it later!) This post from @novlr has a lot of great questions - but you're still going to narrow it down to the most important details.

Escape the Movie Setting - You cannot describe the room like it's a movie set. Trying to do so is going to be overwhelming, and important details will be lost in the attempt. If you were to describe your room or your favorite coffee shop and could only highlight four or five details, what would you focus on? What gives the reader the essence of the place rather than a list of things that exist there?

Establish the Essentials - Is this your first character's first time in this room? Is it going to be key to several plot-important scenes? Some big, sweeping details when entering - how big it is, what's in it, where the windows are, how it feels, etc - are good to start with. Your character can briefly admire a full bookshelf in the first scene, and then study it in more detail in the second. If you have one scene in this place and spend too much time describing it, you're going to make your reader think it's more important than it is.

Engage the Senses - Does an old room smell musty? Does the coldness of the woods have a sharp taste? Does touching a shelf bring up a lot of dust? How does the lighting in the room make the main character feel?

Getting down the description of a room or setting is not something you'll nail in one shot, but if you approach each scene asking yourself "does this feel like a real place or a white room?" you can narrow down what's missing.

#editing #writing advice #writblr #writerblr

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d3v1ls4dvocat3 · 12 hours ago

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Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

#smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #winter soldier #marvel #reader #bucky smut #marvel fic #marvel comics #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #bucky mcu

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snakesafraidtodie · 10 hours ago

Text

Danny stops mid rant once he realizes that Bruce Wayne is looking at him like he's crazy. "Ehh... never mind. It's just been a rough week. Ignore everything that I said. Obviously I'm alive. I'm just... uh, saying what my parents expect I'd say. Because they think I'm dead."

"You're used to indulging their delusions." Bruce stated, more than asked.

Danny sighed. "Look. I'm really sorry about them. But did you have to publish the name of the dead boy you thought was your son? Even if it's not me, that's gotta be some sort of privacy violation. Did you get permission from the family of the dead Danny?"

"...I'm sorry, I don't know how the body's identity got released to the press." Bruce had a genuine look of guilt on his face. "But you're right. That information should never have hit the news."

"Well, I guess it's not your fault then." Danny shrugged. "Um. This is a long shot, but do you know how to get in contact with Batman?"

"..."

"It's just, now that they're convinced you have my body- my parents... are kinda single-minded? And I wouldn't put B&E to steal what they think is the remains of their son past them. So. I wanna talk to Batman. To discuss how best to handle their brand of... them-ness. They're a lot, but they're good people! And they're grieving me, as misplaced as it is."

--------

The Fentons want a dead body that doesn't exist.

The Waynes want to keep their cover and not blow their identities. (No, Tim. You are not allowed to clone Daniel to make a fake corpse for his parents.)

Danny wants his parents to accept that he's both dead and alive and stop harassing a rich fruitloop for the corpse of a rando kid he mistook for his son. And he'd like to get that without having to out his identity to more people, but at this point it seems unlikely.

So.

When Bruce Wayne agreed to set up a meeting for him with Batman, Danny decided to tell the truth. Because who could he trust with it if not a fellow hero?

------

Ok. Batman was way more intimidating in person. The mass of shadows stared him down. Danny didn't know how to break the silence.

Luckily the Dark Knight took mercy. "Wayne told me you wanted to discuss your parents' potential future actions."

"R-right. Um. Yeah. Ok." Danny took a deep breath to quit his rambling and get to the point. "So. Some background info. Mom and Dad are ecto-biologists and ghost hunters. They spent their career inventing tech that runs on ectoplasm and publishing papers on the evils of post-human-consciousness. Their magnum opus was a portal to a theoretical dimension of ecto and ghosts. They built it in our basement. And."

Danny let the rings of transformation form. He began to float and at Batman's tensing, crossed his arms and legs to appear smaller. He looked away. "It killed me. Kinda. I am dead, but not. I'm a ghost, but I'm alive. I didn't tell them when it happened. They're ghost hunters, y'know? I grew up hearing the evils of my kind. But then the other Danny Fenton was announced dead, and they figured I was a ghost anyway."

Danny set his feet on the ground and turned human. "So I told them the truth, that I'm both, that I've been protecting Amity from the ghosts coming through the portal as the hero Phantom. But. Well, I don't know how much Mr. Wayne told you, but they're convinced I'm fully dead. They want me to move on. That's why they want the body."

Danny clutched at his hair in frustration. "And. I can't convince them otherwise! I don't- this reveal is already going so much better than I could've hoped. They're already rethinking their 'all ghosts are evil' stance. But. I can't keep living with them. They think I'm DEAD, Batman! That I'm haunting them or something. I can't do that to them! I can't make them believe me-!"

Large hands wrapped around Danny's own to gently uncurl the fingers fisted in his hair. "What do you need, Danny?"

Danny sniffed. His hands still held in Batman's own, Danny ducked his head, turning to self consciously wipe his face on his sleeve. "I don't know." He said in a tiny voice. "I want them to get better."

"..."

"Everyone always said they were mad scientists, growing up. I- I don't want them to- to end up at Arkham. But I can't convince them anymore. They need, like, a professional. But it will only work if the professional knows what's actually going on, and that means revealing my secret identity to more people, end even if there is someone trustworthy, I'll still need someplace to stay while we're doing this fucked up supernatural family therapy. So maybe I just gotta... fake my death. Let them move on. Wayne can tell them the other Danny got cremated already or something. And I'll... go... somewhere."

Danny pulled his hands out of Batman's grasp and stood up straight. "Yeah. Ok. Batman, will you help put Danny Fenton to rest once and for all?"

It's a Terrible Cover Story, Really :/

DP x DC AU where, when trying to make a cover story for why Jason is suddenly legally alive again, Bruce (and the rest of the fam) come up with a story that they had found the body of a child that looked just like 15 year old Jason after he had gone missing and went straight into greif stricken panic and assumed to worst! Jason had come back to them later (let's say he's 22/23 here) after recovering from amnesia, and DNA tests confirmed it's him. They claim they exhumed the body and had the DNA tested and it came back (and they make this name up, completely believing that, since enough people have similar names, this won't come back to bite them) as Danny Fenton.

It's plastered all over the news and it makes it's way back to Jack and Maddie fast: who are now completely convinced their son died on a breif trip they took to Gotham 7 years ago and came back as a ghost who just didn't know he was dead. When they try to bring up the topic with Danny, as gently as they could, they wind up learning that he's Phantom and start to think it's a split personality type deal. One is their son trying to greave his own death and failing because he thinks he's still alive, and the other is their son trying to live up to them as ghost hunters and trying to be the hero his kid self must have thought they were. They're torn up and grief stricken and try contacting Bruce about retrieving their sons body.

Bruce is freaking out because he thinks he just convinced people who may have been looking for their son for years that their kid is dead (and maybe he is! Oh god!) And Amity Park nonsense is keeping him from finding anything about the (half) living Danny, now attending community college.

Jack and Maddie are freaking out because they don't want to let go of their son, but also this can't be healthy for any of them or for Danny's soul, he needs to move on and they need time to rethink everything they've ever thought about ghosts to grieve.

And Danny's freaking out because he thinks Brucie Wayne, ditz extraordinaire (unless his kids are involved), clueless to a fault, Brucie, somehow figured out he was a ghost and outed him to his parents???? Not cool man!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #batman #Danny fenton #jason todd #bruce wayne #maddie fenton #jack fenton #Danny is not having a good time

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fuck1ng-queen · 3 days ago

Text

Better than the series

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: light discussion, you being a bit shitty, jealousy, oral sex, Noah using that damn mustache

Author comments: hi bestiessss, how are you? if you follow me, you may have seen a post i made about mustache!noah a few days ago and honestly, i didn't think that post would get so many notes (which makes me think that mustache!noah is something everyone is interested in). anyway, i'm going to hell for thinking about noah like that and i'm taking all of you with me, kisses!

"It was great, guys! Thank you so much! See you next week!" You said, pretending not to be so enthusiastic.

You finished your work and lowered the screen of your laptop with excitement. Friday afternoons were always full of expectations. The daily stress of adult life kept you away from your boyfriend much more than you would have liked, so the closer Friday night, the sacred moment for both of you, got, the more butterflies danced in your stomach. Of course, you weren't a little girl anymore, and you weren't in the "getting to know him" stage, but damn, when you realized who you were dating, it was hard not to feel like jelly.

You took a quick but strategically effective shower, dressed comfortably, perfumed your hair with Noah's favorite scent, and quickly ordered a car to be there as soon as possible.

With a backpack on your back and a smile on your face, you arrived ready for your special evening with Noah. It didn't matter what you were going to do, what mattered was that you were together. The door opened and he greeted you with a warm hug and a kiss before you snuggled down on the couch. How good it was to be with him, you felt as if the week hadn't passed you by, as if being in the warmth of his arms dissolved all the pain and worry in your life. You just wanted time to freeze so you could stay there forever, just you and him.

"I counted the minutes until today. Our Fridays are sacred, but some weeks are so exhausting that they make it even more special," you smiled and patted Noah's cheek. "What do you want to do today?"

He kissed your forehead, the mustache he had invented to keep on lately tickling you slightly and making you giggle.

"I love our Fridays too. But there's one thing… the guys are organizing a gaming session tonight," Noah replied.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, just for you to see him more clearly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row. "But today?" you asked, confused. "Noah, it's our night."

Noah scratched the back of his head, knowing his explanation wouldn't go over well, but he tried to explain himself anyway.

"It's Jay's birthday. He's alone at the exchange and we want to give a little joy to his day. I promise it won't take long."

You understand that Jay is alone and he misses his friends, especially Noah since they've known each other for so long, but you can't hide your frustration and immediately cross your arms in disappointment.

"You're always talking to them, we hardly have time for each other."

"But we're together every week, we see each other all the time, and Jay? Look at his side, the guy's all alone there. I bet you don't want to feel alone."

You stand up, getting off Noah's lap and reply, still frustrated, "Alone? That's how you're leaving me, alone. You should pay attention to me. It's Friday, Noah, our day!"

He stands up, and although you love that look on his face, his already closed face gets on your nerves. You hated it when Noah did that.

"Fuck, am I not here? I don't leave you alone, have I ever left you alone? I understand that today is our day, I really do, but you could put yourself in other people's shoes a little," Noah sighs, trying not to be a jerk and get into an argument with you. He thinks of better words to say to you before he continues. "He needs it today, he's been feeling very lonely lately."

You exchange glances: from his side, the silent plea for you not to be as angry as you already seem to be; from yours, the growing tension and frustration. You sigh, not wanting to start a fight, but feeling deeply annoyed.

"Fine," you just give in, seriously. "But I'm not happy about it."

Noah kisses your lips and only replies, "I promise it'll be quick. You can stay in the room with me while I play, I don't want you to feel left out."

You enter the room together, but the atmosphere is still charged. Noah begins to set up the computer for the game while you sit on the bed, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Gotta call Emma so we can watch something on call. At least that way I won't be totally left out and I'll have someone to talk to."

"Sure, good idea. Just don't be too mean to the character on the show," he replies absent-mindedly, but trying to be nice.

"Don't worry, he'll have all our attention," you reply, giving him a cynical smile.

Noah nods, a little relieved, as you pick up the phone to call your friend. He sits down in his gaming chair, turning on the neon light in the room, and off the regular bedroom light to make the room comfortable for both of you. He adjusts the headset to start while you lie on the bed fiddling with your cell phone, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Okay, guys, I'm here. Let's get started before Jay shows up."

You call your friend, and she somehow comes over to keep you company. You sit down on the bed with your laptop next to you and start watching the show. Noah, next to you, remains focused on the game, occasionally casting a furtive glance at you. A scene begins, highlighting the show's main character. He's handsome, wearing a shirt that, despite its formal appearance, is brightly colored and has some of its buttons undone, tight jeans, and aviator glasses that hide his deep brown eyes. But what really catches the eye is his distinctive mustache.

"Look at that man, that mustache is quite a sight," Emma jokes, her voice electronically present in the room. "This guy definitely knows how to use it to his advantage."

Noah, between the music playing and the laughter of his friends, hears you both burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room, and he makes a point of very discreetly removing one side of the headset from his ear, curious to know why you're laughing.

"The mustache is like… a sign of confidence. I bet he must be amazing in bed."

"Totally! Do you think he's good in bed just because he has a mustache?"

"Absolutely! He must know exactly how to use it. Just think, a guy with a mustache like that must have tricks we can't even dream of."

Noah finds himself increasingly interested in the conversation and can't help but mute the sound of his headphones, trying his best to pay attention, one eyebrow raised in excitement to know how far your conversation is going, and just pretend to play.

"It must be the kind that takes your breath away in seconds," you say, unaware that Noah is listening. "The kind that knows what they're doing, the kind that's… experienced."

"A lot more than most. If a guy with a mustache like that paid attention to me, I wouldn't care about anything else, I'd just need him and a glass of water to live."

You laugh at Emma's comment, but then you look at Noah out of the corner of your eye and become serious again. "Yes, but some people prefer to play."

Noah continues with his temporarily forgotten game, pretending not to be hearing, but his expression with his back to you shows that he heard every word you said. "To play, huh?" He just moves his lips, speaking silently.

The conversation between you continues, full of laughter and bold comments about the character on the show. Noah keeps the microphone muted for long moments, discreetly observing the interaction.

The show ends and Emma says goodbye to you. Your phone vibrates with a message from your friend:

"It was fun, but I'm going to leave you to sort things out. Good luck!"

You reply with a few words: "Thanks. See you, Emma."

You get into bed, feeling a little better for the laughs with her, but still annoyed that Noah's game is taking longer than he promised.

"Good night, Noah," you say, turning your back on him, then mutter something inaudible, still slightly annoyed, but mostly frustrated. He should have at least warned you that the evening was going to be like this and that you'd be ready to do something else.

Noah doesn't answer, otherwise you might think he was listening the whole time. He sighs, knowing it will take an extra effort to get your attention again.

(…)

The night stretches on and Noah finally shuts down his computer and takes off his headset. He looks at you lying on your back, and even though you're asleep, he knows that you're clearly distant. Without forgetting how you've been thinking about the man in the series, he laughs softly, touches his own mustache, and something in him is ignited.

He slowly moves closer, snuggling up to you under the covers, already pushing your hair aside to make room to kiss your neck, deliberately brushing his facial hair. You slowly stir from the tickle you feel and finally wake up when you feel Noah's big hand playing with the nipple of your breast under your clothes.

"Noah…" you sigh, still sleepy. "What are you doing?"

He keeps tracing long kisses down your neck, making you shiver, and in a low, teasing voice he says in your ear, "You think I'm not paying attention, don't you? Those comments about the guy on the show… Do you think he could make you feel that way?"

Your sleep begins to dissipate as he kisses you, making you sigh, feeling your resistance melt away.

"Did you hear that? I was just kidding…" You turn your face to find his almond eyes staring at you with desire, your ass beginning to feel his bulge growing behind you.

He pulls the blanket off you and turns you over on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling off your shorts and panties together. He pushes your legs apart and you moan softly, already completely surrendered to the moment.

"Kidding?" His laugh makes you throb. "I'm going to show you that I'm much better than any guy you see on TV."

And he dives between your legs, ready to taste you, but mostly to tease you. He kisses one side of your groin, then the other, making a point of brushing his facial hair against you, noticing how wet and thirsty it makes you.

"Noah… Please…" you moan, trying to move your hips closer to Noah's mouth. He smiles smugly and runs his tongue along your folds, which are throbbing with excitement.

He turns his attention to your clit, sucking and sucking, making everything hotter and wetter. The hairs on his mustache, which you had just imagined tickling you while watching the show, only made you feel more pleasure. Noah tastes you like a hungry man and brings you closer and closer to coming apart.

"Look at you, you tremble every time I run my mustache over that needy pussy… I don't think I'll be shaving anytime soon. Do you want me to shave, babe?" he asks, laughing and rubbing his nose against you.

"N-no Noah, I don't want you to…" and you moan as you feel two of his long fingers penetrating you, unable to finish the sentence. "Noah, please…"

He is relentless in the way he moves his fingers inside you, knowing every point of you, knowing exactly what to do to turn you on. Without much effort, he feels you clenching against his fingers, your thighs shaking in spasms, and he hears your voice break into a loud moan calling out to him as you cum hard in his mouth.

He pulls away from you and kneels in front of your still-spread legs to appreciate your throbbing folds and your flushed, orgasmic face. "You're such a silly girl sometimes." He smiles and runs his fingers, which were inside you moments before, through his own mustache and ends up sucking on his own fingers. "This is for you to learn to appreciate what you have."

And then he just gets up and leaves the room, laughing at the incredulous way you look at him, trying his best to maintain the idiotic character he's just created, even though he knows he'll be buried inside of you in a few minutes, making you cum a few more times to live up to your special Friday.

Masterlist | Send me an ask to join my taglist

@lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm

#noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #luna writes

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suzukiblu · 1 day ago

Text

WIP excerpt for Waywren Truesong behind the cut; "interdimensional whoring for Timkon". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Was it as good as you thought it’d be, sweetheart?” he asks gently, giving the back of Kon’s hair the lightest little tug, and Kon clutches at the hanging edges of his other’s self’s cape and tries to kiss him harder past a stuttered moan. His kissing is still all clumsy and messy and out of sync, and Tim isn’t above taking the opportunity to admire him so easily sunk into that state as the rare and pretty sight that he’s always considered it to be.

“Kon,” his other self mumbles between their mouths; between kisses. “Was it?”

“Y’re b’tter,” Kon mumbles back, sounding drunk or concussed or maybe just both at once. His other’s self’s grip on his face tightens, just barely, and Kon shudders harder under pressure that couldn’t feel like actual “pressure” to him if he wanted it to. “B’tter. B’tter. Pl’se–pl’se jus’–”

Tim’s other self kisses him again, long and lasting, and Kon whimpers and whimpers and whimpers into it, and shudders and trembles under it, and then comes right in his suit for it all over again with a desperate choking sound that might’ve been supposed to be a word.

Or a name, maybe.

Normally Tim would think it was possible that Kon might’ve been touching himself with his TTK to get himself off just then, just like he’d momentarily wondered if he’d been doing before. His own Kon doesn’t have any shame or hesitation about doing that kind of thing–though admittedly this apparently is, again, the sexually-repressed alternate reality–and also has super-sensitivity on top of that. At least when he’s paying enough attention to his sense of touch to focus it the same way he can focus his other senses, anyway. Kon probably has a more sensitive sense of touch than any other Kryptonian, in fact, given the nature of tactile telekinesis and also the amount of touch-deprivation his body went through in development.

But in this case, even if it’d been his own Kon who’d been down on his knees getting the kiss he’d earned by gettting come all over his S-shield while drooling all over a mouthful of cock, Tim already knows the other wouldn’t have needed to touch himself at all.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he sighs appreciatively, twining a few of Kon’s curls around his fingers. His other self leans back from the kiss, and Kon makes the exact same disappointed whine he’d made when Tim had taken his cock out of his mouth.

Goddamn adorable.

“Hell,” Tim’s other self says roughly, letting out a sharp exhalation without taking his hands away from Kon’s face; half-reflexively wiping away the spit around his mouth and chin with the heels of his gloves. Tim pets Kon’s hair again. Kon’s face is still upturned in his other self’s hands as his other self cleans it up, and there’s a look on it that his own Kon definitely, definitely takes longer to give up.

Well, his own Kon’s much more experienced with this situation, so no surprise, Tim figures.

“Told you he’s the sweetest to kiss after he’s had his mouth fucked,” he hums, and his other self shoots him a dirty look. Tim smiles back at him blithely. “You’re welcome, on that note.”

“Drop-kick you through that fucking portal,” his other self mutters sourly. Kon’s still just staring up at him with a dazed, dreamy look on his face. Tim pets his hair a little softer at the sight of it.

“Good boy,” he murmurs quietly to him. Putting Kon down that far that fast definitely means it’s time to take a break and do a full check-in. “Come on, Kon needs some attention. That doesn’t involve our dick, I mean.”

“What?” His other self blinks at him, confusion flashing across his face. The sexually-repressed reality needs to work on its kink education, clearly.

Well, not like that’s really a surprise.

“We just dropped him through the floor with basically no lead-up and then made him come in his suit multiple times before coming on his shield,” Tim says. “He definitely needs some attention that doesn’t involve our dicks.”

“I–what do you mean ‘dropped’?” his other self says with a frown, glancing down at Kon in concern. Kon leans right into his hands again, still wearing the same dreamy daze of an expression. “. . . Kon?”

“Uh-huh,” Kon breathes, sounding even more dreamy and dazed than he looks, and then just tips straight forward and buries his face against the other’s hip, wrapping his arms around his thighs as he just nuzzles into and melts against him. Tim gives his scalp a light scritch or two and earns a low, carrying purr for it. His other self . . . blinks, and then glances up at Tim, his eyes narrowing warily behind his mask.

“What did you do?” he asks, voice flat and expression edged with suspicion.

“If you seriously think I managed to drug a half-Kryptonian with my dick, I’m flattered,” Tim replies wryly. His other self glowers at him. “Relax. It’s normal. I did mention your best friend having some submissive tendencies in the bedroom, didn’t I?”

“You said ‘tendencies’,” his other self says, his eyes narrowing a little more.

“Yeah, I more meant ‘desperate burning need to feel like he’s good enough for once in his life, especially if it makes someone proud of him’,” Tim says, stroking Kon’s hair a little more gently. “But to be honest, I kind of assumed that was obvious enough that I wouldn’t need to spell it out to you?”

“He doesn’t need to prove he’s good enough to me,” his other self retorts accusingly, gripping the back of Kon’s neck as he glowers at Tim. Kon goes even meltier against him and lets out a breathy little sigh of a sound that makes the other’s face flush. Tim understands the reaction, for obvious reasons. Like, both the accusation and the flush, he means.

“We know that, and he knows that,” he agrees, wondering if he’s got a basic kink primer anywhere in his files that he can leave with his other self, since he doesn’t really want to recommend any titles that might’ve been written differently in this reality. Or possibly, like, any titles that were written in this reality at all, given his suspicions about the whole sexual repression thing. It just seems like it might be a good idea, is all. “Doesn’t mean that half-Kryptonian cock doesn’t go full manhood-of-steel for hearing ‘good boy’.”

“You are such an asshole,” his other self seethes.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: interdimensional whoring for timkon #dom/sub #waywren truesong

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alastor-x-reader-stories · 10 hours ago

Note

Could you do a one-shot where alastor is super nervous when meeting reader, not really on his face but more his body language where when she shakes his hand he continues shaking it or doesn't let go immediately. nervous smile too lol, thanks love your stuff!!

Heeey I wrote it hope you don't mind some interpretation on my part! You didn't mention why Alastor was nervous so I just did whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tags: Oblivious Alastor, Cartoonist Writer, Humor, awkward affection, Alastor is either oblivious or in-denial, Nifty is Nifty and you should all love her

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

Alastor’s introduction to you was not a willing one. Charlie had started a bit of a bookclub at the Hotel as some odd attempt at bonding. Alastor wanted no part of it, but after the 532nd time Charlie asked him he said something particularly scathing and the princess was cruel and told Vaggie, and the ex-exorcist would NOT stop stabbing his door until he finally relented.

Of course, his choice of book was one called ‘Blank’. It was a notebook with nothing written in it. Very easy to discuss at a bookclub.

Charlotte was not impressed and Vagatha once again starting throwing vague threats in his direction. How tempted he was to just kill both of them, but alas this hotel has been the greatest form of entertainment he’s had in years (is what he tells himself.)

Darling Nifty came to his rescue, offering up a variety of different light-reading to be discussed in the future. Most of which were….not to his taste. Nifty’s interests highlighted most definitely, but Alastor quickly chucked the books out the window when the story turned to ….that.

As the number of books dwindled, he was just about prepared to give up on this stack entirely and fetch something meaningless to pretend to read (who’d check, anyway?).

He picked up one, a flimsy comic-book like thing and rolled his eyes once before giving it a go. The story wasn’t anything particularly interesting. The plot was just two bunnies going to get some ice cream. But the wordplay, the exaggeration of all the smallest obstacles, how self-aware and absurd it was gave him a good laugh. The Radio Demon’s first introduction to your work.

Although the bookclub idea ended up going nowhere, Alastor found himself seeking out more of your works. Another about a man just making a taco, one about a woman folding her laundry. So many little, day-to-day situations amplified to a ridiculous amount. Clever one-liners and humorous puns sprinkled throughout kept it intelligent enough for him to maintain interest despite the absurdity of it all.

Eventually he got a cartoon you drew that seemed just the same as the rest. Some random cute cartoon raccoon drawing some random little cartoon things. There was a scene in it though that stuck to Alastor’s mind (and dare he say, heart) like glue.

In it, the raccoon was confronted by a shark. “Why do you bother making these?” the shark sneered “No one reads these but you, no one looks at them but you, there’s no point.”

“Why does there need to be a point?” The raccoon said. Alastor’s ears straightened up on their own accord as he read “Even if no one sees it, it’s something I made and it’s some I enjoyed making.”

“Even if you put it out there, no one will care about it.”

“Someone will. They might not say anything but there’ll always be at least one.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound? No one gives a crap about your ‘passions’!”

“I do.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound-“

And then the raccoon pressed a button and an anvil fell onto the shark, comedically turning it into a pancake. “Your argument doesn’t have any depth.” The raccoon said. The story moved on from there.

It struck a bit of a chord with Alastor, he could admit that much to himself. And the raccoon’s way of dealing it was something he’d keep in mind for his next encounter with an annoyance. He didn’t put much stock in it, as storytellers and their stories don’t always agree on all things.

Your comics were a little joyful distraction when he needed them, that was all. Nothing deep and profound.

“BOSS!”

Alastor slammed shut the book he was reading, his grin never faltering though his twitching ears indicated a slight nervousness. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Nifty! Did you need something?”

Nifty scamped up his chair and onto his lap, settling down andstaring up at him with her one big eye. “BOSS BOSS BOSS BOSS I MET THE DEMONESS WHO DRAWS THOSE CARTOONS YOU LIKE”

Alastor’s eye twitched “Oh? Well, that’s neat.”

She stood up, squishing his face between her hands and stared more as her grin grew wider and more manic “Did you want to meet her?”

Yes

“Now, now, Nifty.” Alastor said as he removed her hands from his face “There’s better ways to waste one’s time.”

Nifty tilted her head, staring at him as though it would allow her to see into his mind. Her expression shifted into….One he hadn’t seen on Nifty, admittedly. The best way he could describe it was ‘smug’. But what would she have to be smug about?”

“If you say so, Boss!” She chirped, hopping off his lap and trotting off “But yeah I was at the Evermore Book-Store and she was there working ‘cause I guess that’s what she does for a livng….” Nifty’s voice faded away as the little maid walked off, not caring her rambling were being said to no one.

After Alastor had finished his errands for the day, he happened by that very store…for…Reasons. Upon entering it, he realized he had no idea who- what- he was looking for. The store itself wasn’t large. A couple patrons, one large hulking demon with tiny spectacles at the desk and a much smaller one organizing shelves.

One of the workers, then?

Not that he cared.

“Pardon me!” Alastor chirped to the desk demon. Their big eyes seemed to move in slow motion to him, a low grunt accompanying the acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone, yes? The author of some silly comics?”

The demon slowly narrowed their eyes, lips curling up into a snarl as a growl emanated from them.

“Ah, so she is here?”

The demon planted their very large hands on the desk, pushing themselves up to stand at their full height. They were taller than Alastor by a good three feet, and much more muscular as well. Their nostrils flared, blowing hot air into his face.

Alastor wasn’t the slightest bit phased. (He found it funny, actually). “So may I speak to her?”

The large demon opened up their gaping jaw-

“That’s me, hi! How can I help you?” The shelf-stacking demon interrupted, getting between Alastor and the clerk demon. A nervous little lady with a wobbly unsure smile and bags under her eyes that looked like they could carry the entirety of Hell in them.

Alastor held up one of your comics- a book that has been very obviously well-read “You’re the creator of these splendid little things?”

“Splendid…?” You repeated him, trailing off into an amused snort “Er. Yeah, I wrote and drew those.” The Clerk behind you closed their mouth, setting back down on their chair and adjusting their spectacles. The glare didn’t leave Alastor.

“Well, my dear, I find I quite enjoy them! It’s quite a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor said, not paying the larger (glowering) demon any mind. He found himself wondering why you were so tired and so timid. A woman like you should be so much more cheerful! Alastor was a tad offended….Because you weren’t smiling like he did. That’s it. Really.

“Well. I’m glad you like them.” You said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You offered your hand for him to shake.

One of his ears twitched. You must be fairly new to Hell, to offer a handshake so easily. Or perhaps a bit sheltered or on the naïve side. Alastor briefly considered making a sly deal to take your soul, but… Well, there was no need for that.

He took your hand and gave it a firm shake. Your hand was so much smaller than his own, but it felt as though it warmed his entire body. This was strange. Perhaps you were casting some spells on him? Why was he finding it so hard to focus- why did he feel like he didn’t know what to say next- why-

The Clerk gripped Alastor’s arm in between two fingers, gently but assertively pulling it away from you. You took half a step back, cradling your arm to your chest as if he burned you. Alastor glared up at the Clerk “Is there a problem?”

The large demon growled. You intervened again “Er….You were just. Holding my hand for a while. It was……kind of weird.”

“Ah.” Alastor cleared his throat, straightening his posture with a flourish “My apologies! Mind was elsewhere, you know how it is with us creative types.”

You blinked. Then your timid smile turned a bit more confident. A bit more…like a smirk. “Er. Yeah, I guess so. Well. See you around, I guess?”

“If I have the time, I suppose!” Alastor grinned “Well then, I must be off! Ta-ta!”

You watched as the strange demon disappeared into shadows and slivered off. As soon as all trace of him was gone, you laughed quietly into your hand “Well, I can certainly say for certain I know someone ‘awkward as hell’ now.”

Your friend groaned, gently pushing you over as they continued their own work.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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codenameregnar · 20 hours ago

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Ok so, I've been in the process of writing a post beta canon fic, and a lot of what you've said strikes me as extremely relevant to the things I've been ruminating on in that process. And so bear with me but I'm gonna go through these points one by one, because while I think they all tie into the same central thesis, they are also compelling as standalone points and the worms demand I expound upon them in detail.

"I simply don’t see a world in which that kind of relationship dynamic/approach [of them abandoning their respective worldviews and convictions] would fit with their characterizations." So one of my favorite scenes in A Stitch In Time is the bit where they are having lunch with Odo, and Julian is essentially pushing Garak to (if he would come to be a leader of Cardassia postwar, which we know is exactly what happens) adopt a more Federation adjacent mindset based in democracy and freedom. And Garak gets upset. Irrationally so. And it's because he's on this precipice of great change and understanding within himself, at conflict with his more Hebitian values and worldview vs what he's been taught and brought up to believe in. He is actually very inclined to take a Federation approach for how his world (both his internal world and Cardassia as a planet and people) should be rebuilt, though still distinctly and independently Cardassian—or rather Hebitian, in it's construction and core principals. And coming to terms with the dismantling of his previous principals, ones that have always been necessary for Garak's survival, if ill-fitting, is a terrifying prospect. And so I love that scene, because that is the closest we get to seeing Garak feeling attacked and genuinely shaken up at Julian's convictions and how much they resonate with him. And so in rebuilding Cardassia as a more democratic society (even without losing some of their core and more alien beliefs) that is a middle ground I think Julian could understand and come to even appreciate, especially given his experiences with the Federation's dark underbelly. And let's not forget the central theme of the beta canon, which is Garak remaking himself and by proxy Cardassia in Julian's image specifically. Him finding in himself what Julian saw in him all along and rebuilding his world with who he truly is—with what Cardassia truly is, at the root. And so while I don't think they would be willing to abandon what they believe in for each other, they very much would be willing to shift their worldview to meet in the middle. And furthermore, I think Garak is the one doing the majority of the shifting in that theoretical. Especially given that it's less of a baseless shifting for Julian's sake alone and more of a growing into himself. Something he could only ever have done with Julian's forgiveness, patience, and unwavering sense of compassion and justice to help reveal himself to him. And I think my entire point here is the underlying reason why so much fic and fannon characterizes Garak as the one willing to bend over backward for Julian. He is more aligned to Julian's way of thought (deep down and under years of trauma and brainwashing) than he's wiling to admit in canon.

"there are never any situations involving these characters in which their fundamental values or institutional loyalties are challenged as a result of their relationship." I agree, and the lack thereof is forever a great disappointment, but as illustrated in all of Robinson's writing on Garak, their relationship causes an internal shift in Garak and causes him to see himself in Julian in ways that are uncomfortable and jarring (the same goes for Julian in the opposite direction, I believe) and causes him to question everything he grew up believing, and through that questioning he finds his true values, as he sees them, as indictive to his personhood, without the coloring of Tain's or The Union's influence. And so while there are never any situations which challenge their values, the relationship as a whole does. And again, I do think that is true for Julian, but eons more so for Garak. He does have to chose between Cardassia and Julian, but in a very abstract way. He has to chose between the old Cardassia (that traumatized him and eroded his personhood) and the core of himself that Julian not only saw so clearly but embodied in it's most flattering composition. There is a bit in Enigma Tales in which he ruminates on the way secrets destroy a person, specifically in reference to Julian. And I think that says, without outright saying it of course—in very Garak fashion, that he saw the best of himself in Julian, and he consciously chose that best moving forward, with Julian as a sort of guide.

"their friendship in the early seasons is usually framed as a respite from their serious responsibilities or moral dilemmas." Which is exactly the space Garak needs in order to work through the things I've outlined above. For the first time since his very early childhood he can be unguarded and find comfort—as opposed to paranoia, however mild—in companionship and learn to grow into himself in ways that don't seem very consequential at first (casually saying he "joined the wrong intelligence agency" in OMB comes to mind. It seems like a funny throw away line but given his character and history it is a HUGE admittance of personhood if you read between the lines) but that stack upon themselves to elucidate to him his own values and the harm done to him that snuffed them out over his lifetime.

"[Julian's] righteous anger at seeing those morals trodden upon is one of his most defining character traits" Which is exactly the type of push, in tandem with the aforementioned mirror that Julian is for Garak, that I think he needs in order to come to these realizations about himself. Garak has always been angry. But he had that righteous anger beat out of him from such an early age, and by the time he could recognize it (the Edosian Orchid assassination saga) he had no choice but to suppress it. To see it so unabashedly on display in Julian is not only invigorating to him, but vindicating too. One of my all time favorite aspects of their relationship and what Julian's friendship does for Garak is that he sees, for the first time, his sentiments ('the greatest weakness') as a weapon to be honed and thus wielded as opposed to a liability, which is what his own have always been for him, precisely because he was never allowed to explore that part of himself and learn how to use them to his advantage as Julian does.

"if we’re imagining them in a long term committed relationship? It wouldn’t be sustainable, and it doesn’t feel in keeping with Bashir’s character that’d he have endless reservoirs of patience and understanding specifically for Garak." But he would be vastly more patient and understanding, simply for the fact that he sees Garak, down to the bones, and he understands (especially after that novel length letter) the depths of Garak's internal conflicts. And (if he would come to Cardassia after reading such a letter) he would see that he is trying. His reservoir of patience wouldn't be endless of course, but it would be extended simply for the fact that he and Garak have lead such similar and parallel lives. The main reason they like each other so much is because they see themselves in each other, even if they're not exactly sure why at first. It's an immediate if inexplicable and intrinsic understanding that they have upon meeting that they are looking at another person who maybe doesn't fully understand them, but has the life experiences that equip them with the capability to.

"one very fundamental thing they have in common is how passionately devoted they are to their respective causes [...] I don’t see any version of Garak in which Cardassia is not his first love" Cardassia is absolutely his first love, and even after this internal shift that takes place in him he would never compromise or sacrifice her for Julian or anyone else. However, because of what Julian has been able to give to him—this painful rebirth of the self—he is the perfect person to understand what is necessary to lead Cardassia into a new and generative age. And so in helping Garak, Julian has been able to serve Cardassia as well, and in the capacity that it needs most desperately postwar. He shows Garak the need for one person to fall out of line in order to reinstill the fundamental core beliefs of the First Hebitians as applied to Cardassia's modern age, thus saving—if forever changing—the Union which his love for is defining. And so, in that framework, they can come together for a common goal: healing Cardassia. Garak wouldn't be equipped to do so without Julian's support and guidance, continually reminding him of who he really is and who he needs to honor moving forward. And so to me that is the most believable basis of them getting together postwar. They are both following their convictions and respective life paths, but in ways that they would never be able to without each other.

"For Bashir, there’s the problem of not only reconciling himself with what Garak has done, but also of choosing to be with someone whose impulses and entire cultural belief system places duty and institutional loyalty above personal feelings. And for Garak, there’s the fact that the most devoted and emotionally intense relationship he’s had in his life thus far has been with Tain, who embodied Cardassia for him" And I think here is where the most potential for conflict lies. Garak, and of course Cardassia by proxy, is still in that process of a painful rebirth. He is learning that having the permission to explore one's personal feelings and even act on them can be more generative to the individual and thus to the state than not. But he still has a lifetime of deeply ingrained understandings that tell him otherwise. And so, as his relationship with Tain mirrored his relationship to himself and his devotion to Cardassia, so does his relationship with Julian, but in a fresh and utterly inverse way. This is all still very new and at times very scary for him, and so I think he would need Julian's continued guidance and support so as not to fall back into old and safe patterns of thought and behavior. So to me, the central conflict between them post beta canon would have more to do with the two of them questioning if Garak really is capable of change, if he even wants to change, and what that change would actually look like. I think that, by the time Julian would go running off to Cardassia, he would have a fundamental understanding that Garak is trying, and in order to have even the inclination to go he would have had to already reconciled who Garak has been with who he is becoming/always had inside of him. The discord arises out of questions as to whether or not that internal shift in Garak is sustainable and if Garak can successfully break a lifetime of conditioning.

I feel like this has gotten a bit rambley on my end, so I hope I've been making sense. And I know this has all been very Garak POV skewed and that's my own brainrot and identity talking, and as with all headcanons and interpretations of media feel free to completely disregard everything above if that doesn't jive with what you see in their dynamic, but tldr: to me Garashir is about Garak learning how to find the things that were stolen/beaten out of him and how to honor his own personhood through the at times uncomfortable but always understanding mirror that is Julian Bashir. And through that lens I think them coming together post beta canon is a lot more understandable and fitting for Garak's character (as it's him doing more of the growing and concession making, imo) than is initially illustrated in canon. This coming together wouldn't be Garak abandoning his ideals for Julian's sake, but rather growing into his own long held if deeply repressed convictions that he is only able to see and embrace because of Julian and his own firm belief structure.

I’m trying to untangle The Problem of Garashir (not the least because, well, I’m writing the pairing) -

and I think honestly one of the biggest… roadblocks? bits of untapped potential in the pairing? is that we never really see their relationship put a strain on their ideological convictions.

Which is to say, “the societal institutions we’re subject to are corrupt, but our love is pure, so we’re going to abandon those institutions for each other” is, whether implicitly or explicitly, a common framing in fanfic featuring them (such as I’ve seen) - and to be fair, it’s a common romance trope in general. But I can’t say it works for me for these characters. And part of that is that imo the show doesn’t sufficiently set that up with its development of the relationship between these two characters, but another part of that is that I simply don’t see a world in which that kind of relationship dynamic/approach would fit with their characterizations.

To address the first point - there are never any situations involving these characters in which their fundamental values or institutional loyalties are challenged as a result of their relationship. At no point does Garak, for example, have to choose between Cardassia and his affection for Bashir. (I’ve seen people read The Wire that way, but I don’t think the reading works - The Wire is a fantastic showcase for Garak’s worldview and value system and the cracks and contradictions therein, but even though Bashir’s unwavering commitment to helping him despite what he’s done is certainly unprecedented and moving to him, his underlying value system hasn’t changed by the end of that episode.) And while Bashir’s faith in Starfleet and the Federation does get rocked quite a bit over the course of the show, it’s never because of his friendship with Garak.

Instead, I’d say that with some exceptions (like The Wire), their friendship in the early seasons is usually framed as a respite from their serious responsibilities or moral dilemmas. This especially true of Garak, who is likely not used to someone simply enjoying his company with no ulterior motives whatsoever, but the narrative maneuvering of the show also does a lot to shield Bashir from the reality of who Garak is. Yes, he gets a taste of that in The Wire, when Garak goes out of his way to impress upon him what the reality of his life as a spy truly was. But that’s still only verbal testimony, and only confined to what Garak has done in the past. Bashir is largely absent from all the shit that Garak pulls during the show!

And I’m not complaining that, say, the events of The Die Is Cast take place between Garak and Odo, because it makes thematic sense for it to be Odo for that arc. (And I love that friendship.) But Garak and Bashir do not get a plot like that, or like In the Pale Moonlight, where Bashir is directly exposed to or complicit in Garak’s immoral behaviour. The closest we get to an actual serious ethical clash between them is in Our Man Bashir, which is a goofy comedy episode. (And it’s worth noting that Bashir calls Garak’s bluff and shoots him in that confrontation! Yeah, he likely missed on purpose, given what we later learn about his magic hand-eye coordination, but he’s still unwilling to compromise on his heroism for Garak’s sake. It’s actually a pretty Cardassian gesture, which is probably part of why Garak loves it so much, but it does say a lot about where their priorities are re: their commitment to their values vs. each other.)

And I think the lack of more serious, plot-relevant ethical conflict between Garak and Bashir is a real loss for the show, because one thing I find really interesting about their relationship is that - in contrast to the examples of Odo and Sisko up there - Bashir is the person in the cast most able to hold Garak accountable. He’s repeatedly established as one of the most firmly moral members of the cast, and his righteous anger at seeing those morals trodden upon is one of his most defining character traits in the later seasons. His unconditional forgiveness of Garak in The Wire is lovely, and it is an important moment in the development of both their relationship and Bashir’s character. But in the long term, once we get into actual serious, consequential war and espionage plots? And if we’re imagining them in a long term committed relationship? It wouldn’t be sustainable, and it doesn’t feel in keeping with Bashir’s character that’d he have endless reservoirs of patience and understanding specifically for Garak. And it’s precisely because Bashir is uniquely able to grant Garak forgiveness that he’d also potentially be uniquely able to chastise him.

(This is why, by the way, my headcanon as to the in-universe reason why they don’t seem as close in the later seasons, paternity deathbed reveals and occasional flirty bantering notwithstanding, is that Bashir was seriously fucking pissed at the stunt Garak pulled in Broken Link, both in terms of the personal betrayal and the destructiveness towards sentient life, and that it created a significant rift between them.)

All of that is to say - my biggest regret with the show’s sidelining of their dynamic isn’t the fact that their relationship never becomes romantic (not a chance of that in the 90s, and also these writers were pretty terrible at writing romance) but that they never get to have an argument. An actual serious, non-flirtatious, two-sided, genuinely-angry-at-each-other-argument. I want to see conflict! (I honestly think that their exchange in What You Leave Behind comes the closest to the kind of conflict I’d like to pick up on in post-canon fic - where they are conciliatory in the moment but still have this really wrenching chasm between them, and unresolved frustration as a result of that chasm.)

So as an extension of these thoughts, I actually really like that we’re not given the basis for a traditional “us against the world” style romance plot. I like that these characters are clearly deeply fond of each other and significant to each others’ development, but have other important connections (Garak especially, since despite being only a recurring character introduced through Bashir, he integrates into the broader cast) and other priorities besides each other.

Furthermore, despite the significant differences in their value systems, one very fundamental thing they have in common is how passionately devoted they are to their respective causes. For Garak, it’s Cardassia. And while his idea of what it means to serve Cardassia, and what Cardassia needs, undergoes a lot of change over the course of the show, I don’t see any version of Garak in which Cardassia is not his first love. For Bashir, it’s altruism and helping people, as well as his intellectual curiosity - aims which are reflected in Starfleet and the Federation for him but ultimately higher ideals.

And I don’t think either Garak or Bashir would admire the other nearly as much if they were willing to let go of everything they hold dear for the sake of romance. They’re both far too committed to being a part of the world. Garak may have some fun with trying to shake Bashir of his optimism, but ultimately Bashir’s goodness, his fierce conviction that no one deserves to suffer, are among the most compelling aspects of his personality. And if Bashir is ever going to actually enter a serious relationship with Garak, he’s got to move beyond flirty intrigue and literary banter and see Garak as someone who’s proactively committed to goals that Bashir can respect. If they’re coming together as a couple, it’s because their aims and beliefs have come into alignment in some way.

And to be fair, a lot of post-canon Cardassia stuff is doing the latter. But I also want more… conflict within that framework, I guess? I don’t want a romantic relationship and the act of getting together to be the endpoint of whatever reconciliation of values they need to work through. And that’s part of what I’m trying to untangle in planning this fic of mine - especially regarding how fraught romantic commitment feels for them. For Bashir, there’s the problem of not only reconciling himself with what Garak has done, but also of choosing to be with someone whose impulses and entire cultural belief system places duty and institutional loyalty above personal feelings. And for Garak, there’s the fact that the most devoted and emotionally intense relationship he’s had in his life thus far has been with Tain, who embodied Cardassia for him - and as a result, I doubt he quite knows what to do with the possibility of a serious relationship with Bashir, who is very emphatically not Cardassia. He’s not used to being divided in his passions!

It’s not that I’m never capable of being moved by post-canon stuff that involves Bashir being charmed by how slippery Garak is, or them generally being quippy and fond of each other (I’m not made of stone here). But I’m never satisfied with just that, because that escapist element never feels like it translates well from the early seasons of the show to post-canon, and because it never engages with what I find the most fascinating about what’s set up with their whole dynamic. (And I especially dislike it when it feels like Bashir’s character is getting shortchanged in terms of his complexity and moral convictions being excised in order for Garak to get everything he wants.)

#yea. like I said Ive been ruminating on the idea of julian healing cardassia by healing garak. and how the fate lines demand that he end #up on cardassia. not purely for garaks sake. but for cardassias. this fic is huge and the themes have been crushing me but i find that read #of their relationship and the cosmic weight of it so compelling. and like op said them getting together for the sake of just wanting to isn #quite enough for me and requires a bit of suspension of disbelief. so in my mind they would both have to feel that their union is not only #supported by their convictions but in service of their convictions as well.#but yea. i think that by coming to the understanding that they both need to buckle down and make this work. not just for themselves but #for an entire planet. it could work. but absolutely not without strife. self discovery is always painful. however love really is enough.#not necessarily on its own merits but because it gives you the incentive to do the hard unfun work of healing #anyway. yea if i think about this much more right now i will get a nosebleed im sure of it.#regnarposting #garashir

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eclipseberrycake · 2 days ago

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Funhouse (Looey x Reader)

AN: Hey guys guess who's a new Sprout main? Me. A Rodger kept taking tapes right in front of me, literally calling me over only to take them the second i was close enough. His friend was playing as Bobette. You took something I loved Rodger main, I'm taking something you love. Since I can't draw her pregnant, she's the new villain until someone else pisses me off. Not yet though. I will bide my time.

Anyway.

☁ Looey. Looey. He's such a guy. A goofy lil' goober.

☁ If you don't think he's with another circus based toon, you're crazy. He's a little too...crazy for lack of a better term. Looey I think really needs someone to match his energy, so another circus toon would be perfect!

☁ Stay with me- A Healer! Toon, who's special ability is kind of like a tightrope. It attaches them to the nearest wall and let's them cross an area without being spotted for like 5 seconds.

☁ I think it's neat especially with Looey.

☁ He's a distractor, evidently, and if you haven't picked it up I love the Distractor X Healer Trope.

☁ Imagine he's running and for some reason nearly gets snapped by Twisted Scraps only for a thing of cotton candy to fall in front of him? I've only ever seen Goobs and Scraps really catch Looey mains tbh.

☁ ANYWAY

☁ They probably use circus foods instead of cupcakes or cookies. And you KNOW Looey loves his circus foods. My personal hc is that he wasn't always part of Gardenview and was part of a circus at some point, so he gets a little homesick :(

☁ Maybe you two both came from the circus in fact and found refuge in Gardenview and joined their cause! That would be cute! Just two sweethearts looking for a safe haven for themselves.

☁ Speaking of which! Looey is so sweet! And cheeky too!

☁ He's constantly giving you little flowers with a cheeky little grin, pecking your cheek and running off before you could even reciprocate, or tapping one shoulder is to make you look only to round around the other side.

☁ He also loves rubbing against you to make your fur/hair all puffy from the static electricity.

☁ He also has so many cool little skills. Like, he can juggle on a unicycle kind of things. He can make balloon animals and is scary good at those scammy carnival games. If you ever get the chance to go to a carnival with Looey, you should know he's pinpointing the largest teddy bear there and you're walking out with it.

☁ On runs, since he's distracting, he doesn't stress too much about you. He trusts you can handle yourself! He only struggles when he knows he's teetering the edge of becoming a twisted and you come to heal him. Your ability makes it easier on him though!

☁ He's always eternally grateful when he hears to deployment of your line, and sees the treat, but never sees you! Not that he doesn't love you and seeing you! But not seeing you while he's distracting is truly best.

☁ He takes the healing well honestly. He's sits with a cheeky, "Alright alright." Gazing at you lovingly the entire time, even if you're scolding him.

☁ The kind of dude to play pranks on his lover for sure. But not mean, tiktok incel pranks, but the confuse don't abuse pranks. :) Like that one husband with his blind husband! He's adding shampoo while you're in the shower and trying to wash it out. He's adding more fries to your plate every time you look away so you think it's an endless plate. He's such a menace.

☁ And he's quick too! So you can't even get him back! Like that one video where the girlfriends dumps cold water on her bf in the shower and he grabs her before she can escape and pulls her in? That's y'all.

☁ You guys probably have a whole lotta activities you do together. Small little hobbies he sees somewhere and wants to try at least once.

☁ Baking turned into some sort of adventure! You've seen Sprout and Cosmo do it with their sweethearts and they always end the time laughing, covered in flour and icing and feeding each other desserts.

☁ Funnel cakes was the treat he was craving when he walked up to you one lazy afternoon. There were no runs going on, supplies were stocked and everyone was taking the well needed break to catch up on some housekeeping, little chores they had been putting off or even just simply napping. It was a day of rest and relaxation!

☁ But Looey wouldn't let that slide. He's had a craving for the sweet treat for so long and now, he has the time to drag you to help him make it! The normal bakers were scattered, out of the kitchen, one of them napping with one of their partners while the other was folding laundry with the other next to them. So that meant it was open!

☁ You yourself were on a device, scrolling through some app that started with a T, reading silently while curled in a blanket. You looked so content there, he almost hesitated to ruin it.

☁ That did not stop him from running full speed only to jump onto you, nuzzling into your neck as you squealed at the intrusion. "Gumdrop!" He cheered while your squeals turned into laughter, pecking soft pecks to your cheeks and lips. "Let's do something!"

☁ "I was doing something." You giggled, brushing back his ears before they popped right back up. He shook his head to make them wave back and forth and tap against your hands, making you laugh again as you moved to hold his head. "But I guess I can share my attention."

☁ "Great!" His tail gave a wag. "I was hoping you and I could go on another baking adventure. I'm thinking funnel cakes!" He cheered, making you roll your eyes fondly.

☁ "Is that what you want now?" You tease, closing your device and setting it to the side.

☁ "At this very second? No. I want a kiss." He beams, making you laugh once more. You give him a sweet little peck, hearing his tail wave side to side rapidly.

☁ Once he was satisfied, he stood with a sweet bow, extending a hand to you. Once you took it, he helped you up before hooking your elbows together, rehashing the time he spent earlier while you had some alone time back to you.

☁ You listened with an attentive ear, smiling the entire time. By the time you made it to the kitchen, he was going on about the game of Crib he and Finn had been playing earlier, and how he had won- even if you knew he had been using the tricks he used in the circus to flub the cards.

☁ You pointed out as much, moving around the kitchen a little clumsily. You found what you needed well enough however, setting it out along with the utensils needed. Looey knew himself well enough to know where his limits lie, so he put a pot of oil on the stove, turning the burner on before stepping back, watching you whip up a quick batter.

☁ "You look glorious, you know that?" He teased, watching your cheeks flush as you tried hiding your smile. He loved seeing that look on your face, especially knowing it was because of him.

☁ There was something about you that just had him acting like a whole new toon! It was kind of uncanny really. He wouldn't admit, except to maybe you, but at the beginning of his time with the circus, he feared he was too different. Too much. And he hated being alone.

☁ Then you showed up and life hasn't been the same. He will forever be eternally grateful to have you in his life and fully plans to cherish you for as long as you will allow him too.

☁ It was why he insisted on having moments like these so often. He never wanted to say he wished he could've done it with you and would've rather had the memories to look back on. Especially with the twisteds. He had only been a twisted once, and could only remember running and running and running hoping to find you or any trace of you.

☁ Waking up, back to himself, and seeing you was one of the best-worst moments of his life.

☁ He knew seeing him like that must've been scary for you and tried desperately to erase that memory with only good ones.

☁ And if sifting powdered sugar onto freshly fried dough and drizzling it with your favorite sweet sauce helped erase some of those bad memories too?

☁ Well, he found he didn't mind a single bit, laughing at the powder dusting you nose as you fed him the first bite of the first treat, laughing when he got sauce all over his face.

#dandy's world x reader #dandys world x reader #looey x reader #dandy's world looey #dandy's world looey x reader #dandys world looey x reader #dandys world looey #dw looey #dw looey x reader

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kanansdume · 1 day ago

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I could swear someone else has already come up with this concept, but what if Cody and Obi-Wan DON'T fall in love during the war? They care about each other, for sure, and they'd consider each other good friends, definitely, but they're not in love with each other at all. The thought simply doesn't cross their mind and they have other priorities that are taking up a lot of time and energy.

But then the dynamic changes.

In a happy fix-it AU, the war ends and the clones are eventually given rights and citizenship and Cody has the time and space to figure out who he is without the war and Obi-Wan can move away from being Cody's superior officer and go back to being just a Jedi. They remain friends, they keep in contact, but maybe for a few years they don't see as much of each other. Certainly not as much as they used to during the war. It's not intentional, but Cody's out traveling and seeing the world on his own and exploring his options now that he HAS options to explore, and Obi-Wan is going on missions still, the galaxy doesn't just go back to what it used to be overnight after a three year galactic civil war after all, so they just don't manage to be able to meet up in person with each other often and play a lot of phone tag.

And so maybe it takes a few years to finally meet up again in person, and it's... different. Not in a bad way, at all, it's not off-putting, but they can both tell something's a little... different. They happen to get lucky enough to both be spending a little time on Coruscant without needing to leave soon and so they keep agreeing to meet up again, for lunch or just to go out and see something together maybe. And something's changed. Neither of them says anything about it or even really DOES anything about it, they just let it grow and see what happens. Obi-Wan probably recognizes what it is, even if Cody might not, not as quickly anyway. Something's just clicked now that hadn't clicked before.

After that, their interactions take on a different tone, even after they separate again. It takes months before they choose to do something about it, but the shift in their dynamic after the war allowed them to see each other in a new light that simply wasn't there before. It's not better than it used to be, just... new. A different kind of intimacy perhaps, some new options introduced into the way they interacted with each other. It's fun, it's nice, and both of them enjoy getting to explore the new path their relationship is on.

In a desert husbands AU, it's not that same slow sweet exploration of themselves individually before they can see each other in a new light. But when Cody joins Obi-Wan in his isolation on Tatooine, the dynamic has obviously been forcefully shifted. Obi-Wan is still a Jedi, but that means something very different now than it used to. Cody is still a fighter, but he's not a SOLDIER anymore and refuses to answer to anybody but himself these days anyway. Both of them have lost their usual support system and have to rely on each other for what healing is available to them. Intimacy is something that has to be rebuilt, now, after what was done to them.

And in building up their trust in each other again, something else seems to come along with it that hadn't been there before. Again, Obi-Wan probably recognizes it for what it is long before Cody does. But this time, Cody's never had the opportunity to go out and figure out who he is on his own. Instead of a soft slide into that new dynamic, it's a rockier path as the two of them figure out how to navigate the way they're beginning to feel with the obstacle that is their shared history and their current less than ideal situation. Obi-Wan doesn't want to take anything more away from Cody than has already been taken, Cody doesn't want to lose what he's just managed to regain by making Obi-Wan uncomfortable.

It takes a while, and it might be a little painful sometimes, but when they finally figure things out, it's a little oasis in the middle of the desert that is their lives, a light in the darkness that lets them feel safe, even if it's just for a moment or two. Again, it isn't necessarily BETTER than what they had before (in this scenario, they might actually have preferred what they had before since at least then they still had most of their friends and family still around them and the possibility of a home to go back to and hope for a better future, and they'd both take those things back over this new relationship in a heartbeat), it's just new, and different. It feels good to explore it, and to just let themselves feel good sometimes. It feels good to take comfort in each other when there's so little else to take comfort in anymore.

Just... Cody and Obi-Wan only finding romance AFTER the war is over and they have the time and space for those feelings to grow at all.

#star wars #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #codywan #desert husbands

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graciedollie · 2 days ago

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Sub!Grayson 🫠

(maybe overstimulated) 🤷🏾‍♀️

Sub!Grayson Drabble

Warnings: brief mention of bondage, reader is a soft dom, cunnilingus, fingering, and OVERSTIMULATION (we love to see it), GRAYSON HAS A BUSH, brief nipple play, straight up nsfw🎀

a/n: yk what…i’m fucking with y’all grayson requests.

Walk with me bby…Grayson having you perched on her lap as both of your lips work in a sensual dance, slowly roaming her warm, large hands all over your body—trying to pull you impossibly closer while also exploring every inch of your body. Both of your chest were pressed together as heavy pants and smacking of lips filled the room as the tension in the room became thick enough to be cut with a knife. God you wanted this woman so bad—needed her as if she was oxygen. You pulled away from the kiss to gaze at her with your dazed gaze, craving her more than ever as you took in the small smirk she gave you, seeing the smile line appear. “What is it, love

You couldn’t help yourself but melt as her raspy voice filled your ears, feeling your pussy throb against the soaked fabric of your panties as you roamed your hands over her arms to down her abdomen. “I wanna try something different..

“Oh really, let me hear it, sweetie.” She was always so patient and loving with you, only wanting you to feel comfortable and loved around her, especially when it came down to vulnerable moments, just as you would for her !! (we love respect, iktr) Ofc you felt comfortable and loved around her, but you couldn’t help that your nerves were a bit frazzled as you recited in your head to ask her over and over again.

“I figured you’d let me…be in charge.”

Her brows raised in surprise, but she was also intrigued. A small smirk tugged at her lips, revealing the smile line that grazed her skin—god this woman was everything. She could only chuckle at your words, giving you a small nod, “Of course. Why not, hm?”

Oh this was gonna be fun.

Heavy pants and grunts escaped her mouth as you suckled at her neck, tantalizing her with your sweet, but sharp nips on her neck—allowing the dark marks to bloom across the delicate skin of her neck. She had her arms restrained with handcuffs clasped to the headboard, assuring her that she wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. It’s not she’d ever wanna leave anyway. She’d be a fool to do such a thing. Her body was completely bare to your shameless gaze, revealing her tits and toned abs—just the sight making your soak your panties. “You’re so pretty, Gray…love you so much…” Your voice was sickening sweet to her ears, but god, she’d be lying if it didn’t make her clit throb.

You trail your lips from her neck to her lips, capturing them in a sensual, but hungry manner as you sneaked your hand between her thighs to rub her clit that peeked from the hood which was was crowded by her bush. Her legs slowly spread to give you more space, letting you slowly inch a finger in her already-sticky cunt—eliciting a small groan at the sensation as her body slowly heated up with arousal. Her lips worked steady, but hungrily with yours as grunts and low moans filled your mouth.

It was until then you pulled away to take in that look in her eyes as she panted, looking up at your with a most puppy dog eyes—oh shes been needing this. Craving. She always loved to see what you’d be like if you were in charge and so far, you were the most sweetest thing. “I love you too, baby—need you…” Her raspy voice became low and airy as she completely by your searing kiss and torturous tease—you knew she loved it.

“Say please, Gray. You know what to say when you want something, yeah?” You cooed at her with a gently tone as your voice was sultry and held that sweet sickening edge to it. Her hips bucked up to your touch as you added in another finger, feeling her tightened around your digits—earning a low moan slipping from her lips. “Love….please, s-shit..”

“There we go…..you’re so good, baby..” Your words circled her head swiftly as you slowly started to pick up the pace of your fingers while rubbing over clit, adoring how her chest heaved and stomach flex with each jerk of her body. “you’re doing so good..” She couldn’t even deny that your praises were make her clench and soak around your fingers even more—you both knew it did.

You leaned back up to suckle at your neck as you sped up your fingers, relishing in the groans and low moans becoming more quick as you felt her walls flutter around you—knowing she couldn’t last much longer. Her thighs tensed up, restrained hand pulled at the handcuffs, and toned stomach flexed as she came with a low moan with a small whimper at the edge.

• • • • • • •

“S-shit, love—wait!” Her raspy voice soon mixed with airy whines and heavy pants as you were pushing her towards closer towards the 5th orgasm of the night. You were stuck between her trembling thighs as you lapped hungrily at her clit, suckling and slurping at the swollen abused bud. You knew she was sensitive, but she didn’t wanna stop. You both wanted this + if she wanted to, she would’ve said the safeword: rose. Your eyes peered up at through her thighs, seeing her brows furrowed together, mouth hung up with groans and whines, and they were her eyes tried to desperately focus on yours as you worked tirelessly at her pussy. “please—baby, shit! too much..”

She was just being a big baby about it. Ofc she can take it. If you can, then she can.

You pulled away briefly to gaze up at her with hungry gaze as your hands splayed over her trembling thighs, “yes you can, baby…just gimme one more.” That was all you said before you dives right back into her cunt—slurping and licking at her as if you were a starved woman You slipped two fingers in her slick cunt, causing her hips to jerk at the oversensitivity as a guttural moan escaped from her mouth. The noises filling your ears were downright lewd and pornographic. The squelching noises of her cunt, the muffle moans from you as you ate her out happily, and the gasps and whines that were leaving her lips constantly—slowly getting louder as you picked up your pace and increased pressure on her g-spot with your fingers.

She tugged at the handcuffs swiftly as her body trembled with the buzzing, overwhelming sensation of pleasure and ecstatic coursing through her body—feeling as if she was on cloud9. Her eyes fluttered as she tilted her head back as her body shuddered, instinctively clenching her thighs around her head, which you gently hit firmly pushed down against the bed. “sweetheart, p-please…fuck. I can’t..”

You just simply ignored her and double down on your efforts, working quick flicks of your tongue and fast thrust of your fingers as you knew she was getting closer again l. Your eyes peered up at her through her thighs as her eyes fluttered—threatening to roll to the back of her head. It didn’t take long until her body tensed before breaking down into trembled as the orgasm hit her like a rushing wave, causing the spurts of liquid to flow freely from her spasming cunt as she tugged at the handcuffs with whines and low moans with a shaky edge, leave her lips. You eagerly lapped at her juices, not daring to waste a single drop as you moaned at the taste.

Grayson head fell back as she panted heavily with her chest rising quickly, eyes fluttering in a pure daze before she caught sight of you finally pulling away from her thighs to smuggle close to her—peppering her lips and neck with soft kisses with her essence fresh on your lips.

“Round six, baby?”

hope you enjoyed this dollies <3

taglist!!

@sillygirl-lol

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