#Get my true love back at any cost
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snow-and-saltea · 7 months ago
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sometimes replacing an emotion with a perhaps-equally-worse-but-for-different-reasons emotion works (even if its not healthy. we're not getting to healthy right now we're getting to what Works). today i was so pissed off about how the day was going and i felt so guilty for the kitties that i haven't been able to feed yet that day that after i cooked i just got into the car and drove to get cat supplies. and i didn't feel anxious as i usually did when i drove, and that is because i felt Angry instead. and it helped move things a lot
i understand how people fall prey to using anger as a motivator now. my mind was empty except for getting cat supplies and getting out.
at least i got to go to the bank today, so i'm able to make donations that i haven't been able to recently. head in hands. so, you know. silver linings
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maikaartwork · 1 year ago
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Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers
There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.
How they begin
Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.
What to look out for:
Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.
Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know. 
They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.
They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.
Where the scam actually happens
If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible. 
Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.
A few things can happen here:
They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again. 
They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.
The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions. 
You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account. 
Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.
You can find more info on that method HERE.
What to do when you encounter a scammer:
Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.
Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance. 
Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.
Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info. 
Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn. 
Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it. 
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Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!
Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.
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bedcchem · 2 months ago
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knight!iwaizumi who knows it’s so wrong to be feeling this way, to be doing this right now…
but he just can’t bring himself to stop.
“oh, god, princess,” he groans in your ear at the drag of his thick cock in and out of your tight, sopping pussy. his hands grip your plush thighs, his lips pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, careful to not leave any marks on your skin.
you gasp, chills running down your spine as his hips roll into yours at a slow, deep pace. “oh, hajime—” you whisper in his ear, your voice soft and saccharine as your lips brush against his lobe.
everything about this is so wrong. you are to marry another man—a wealthy duke—in a week’s time to fulfill your role as the nation’s princess and future queen.
and yet… your heart belongs to another.
“i love you,” you softly whine, your eyes glazed with both pained and pleasured tears.
iwaizumi’s eyes squeeze closed as he feels so damn close… “fuck, princess, i love you too—” he chokes out, “more than anything in this world…”
it seems as if the world is getting smaller, where nothing else matters besides the two of you, pretending that you are not a princess and he is not your guardsman. pretending that this illicit affair couldn’t cost iwaizumi his position and, possibly, his life. pretending that this forbidden love will not taint you—where every other experience you’ll have will just pale in comparison to the way iwaizumi makes you feel…
“hajime—!” you softly cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as everything became so damn tight. and as you fall into the throes of ecstasy, iwaizumi cannot hold himself back any longer, letting out a reserved, strangled groan as he paints your insides a creamy white.
your knight shall always be there. he has sworn an oath to the crown to protect you with his life, his entire being. and even if you must marry another man, you know the true gentleman who has your heart.
the one who holds it in his rough, calloused, armored hands.
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a/n: knight!iwaizumi has me in a chokehold istg
enjoy my masterlist!
mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bedcchem 2024.
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dragon-ascent · 1 month ago
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Imagine being able to see people’s elemental aura. If they bear a vision, the energy around them takes the color of the corresponding element. So Pyro users have a burning red-orange energy flickering about them while Dendro wielders are draped in a calm deep green. Only you can see their aura, perhaps just a special (but mostly useless) gift you were born with.
Which is why when you start working for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and are introduced to Zhongli, you’re freaking out that you can’t tell anyone he’s actually the Geo Archon who is supposed to be dead.
Shimmering golden rays with a glare so intense they may just be exploding stars suspended in sunlight…yes, the aura around him is simply unmistakable. The Dendro Archon’s wavelength was of a similar intensity back when you attended the Sabzeruz festival. The appearance of the Raiden Shogun during Irodori had you beholding a similar feeling.
Zhongli’s every action only confirms it, not that confirmation was ever needed. His knowledge is too vast to be that of a young man, his mannerisms more ethereal than worldly, his gait steadier than stone.
Soon enough, he takes notice of the way you’re always so jittery around him – but he chalks it up to you being a naturally skittish thing. So he tries to alleviate your nerves by talking to you any chance he gets…not that that helps because his every word has you even more on edge.
“So true, bestie!” you blurt out after he’s told you something that’s gone in one ear and out the other. “Speaking of, isn’t it so sad that Rex Lapis is dead?”
Zhongli pauses, eyeing you curiously. “My dear, this is the third time this week you have brought up the topic of the Geo Lord’s death. Has it affected you so? Please take comfort in that He remains in all our hearts, watching over us common folk from the afterlife.”
He’s mocking me, I just know it! you think, your cheeks heating up as you try not to stare at the divine golden aura crackling around him.
One time, as (un)luck may have it, you accidentally bump into him and spill coffee on his beautiful suit. “Oh gods! Forgive me!” you wail, getting onto your knees. This time…this time he’ll certainly show you his godly wrath…maybe skewer you with his spear…or summon a fissure to swallow you…
But Zhongli is chuckling softly, dabbing at the stain with his lovely embroidered handkerchief. “Please do not fret, my friend. This is nothing a wash will not fix.”
You then insist you’ll cover the cost and get it cleaned, to which he eventually accedes. Holy…when he takes it off to reveal his cream-coloured shirt underneath, it’s like his aura gets even more blinding. It takes everything in you not to just throw yourself at his feet and sing his praises.
(How gorgeous he looks as he works the rest of the day with his coat off.)
He warmly invites you over to his place for tea when you come to return his coat, now cleaned; the house is as well-kept as he is. As night falls, the glow around him only strengthens in response. You can’t stop yourself from asking, mid-sip of your well-made tea:
“What’s Rex Lapis doing working a salaried job?”
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velvetcrimsonkisses · 6 months ago
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Blind Gojo adjusting to his new life…
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The fight against Sukuna took a lot from everybody. With everyone making sacrifices, it was only right Satoru did too. He wanted to win, he was the strongest right? He had to win, no matter what. Losing the six eyes was just the mere cost of winning the battle. It was worth it right?
Satoru believed he didn’t deserve to live, but he had too now for everyone who died. Ultimately, deciding to now live his life as Satoru Gojo and not "the strongest” anymore. Losing the six eyes initially lead to frustration and anger, as he tried to adjust to being blind. He felt useless for a while, not being as efficient as he was. But over time, this loss lead to his personal growth. Gojo developed a deeper sense of humility and empathy for others, finally understanding the struggles of those who are not as gifted as he once was.
It wasn’t until he met you that he started to feel a sense of normalcy. And here he was at almost 30 learning how to live as a human for the first time. You taught him what true genuine love was and you patiently taught him how to reciprocate it back to you. He learned how to express his feelings to you instead of bottling them up inside. You created a safe space for him where he could unveil the true side of himself. Trust and intimacy forming between you two. Both of you navigating the complexities of loving each other.
He also didn’t know exactly what you looked like, not that he cared. His other senses were still in top shape and keen allies to him. That’s why his hands are always on you, he could feel you. Feeling the warmth of your body against his fingertips, large cold hands always coming to your face. He liked tracing your bone structure with the pads of his fingers, caressing your cheeks, and especially savoring your lips against his own. With each caress, he discovered new assets of your beauty, not defined by your visual appearance but by the sensations that awakened within him.
He could also smell your scent. He knows when you walk into a room when the sweetness of your perfume fills his nostrils, causing it to twitch like a bunny. He buries his nose into your hair because he loves the fresh fragrance of your shampoo. He loves when you bake him all his favorite sweets, the aroma of brown sugar lingering on you makes you smell even sweeter.
The sound of your voice. Satoru could never get tired of it. For once in his life, Satoru found himself not being the talkative one in a relationship. He cherished all the words that would leave your lips, each word a symphony to his ears. In the mornings Satoru would always lay in bed until you woke up waiting for the sound of your voice to be the first thing he heard each day.
All these aspects combined Satoru knew he was finally living the life he finally dreamed of. Every touch, every word, every moment was filling his deepest desires. In your presence, he found the reason why he deserved to live. He found peace and joy, a sense of completeness that he had long yearned for all in one person.
Even though he couldn't see anymore he felt things he didn’t before. He made up his mind that he didn't want to waste any more time. Satoru was now certain that his blindness didn’t stop his ability to love or to commit fully to you and he was more than grateful that you showed him that. It wasn’t long before you both decided to marry.
“She’s perfect…” you utter softly, handing the baby gently into an anxious Satoru’s arms. He cradles the baby just like you taught him, careful to not get too excited and accidentally hurt her. The baby babbles as she feels the comforting warmth of her father.
“The little sounds she makes are my favorite thing to hear,” he says, poking the baby’s cheek. “Describe her again to me, will you?” Satoru looks up from the baby, trying to decipher where you were.
You walk over to join him on the couch. “Of course, she has your beautiful blue eyes…” You noticed Satoru smiling, still holding his daughter close to him. “And your white hair…” you continue, Satoru’s finger coming up to her head, feeling the softness in her hair.
You describe every detail you could about the little baby to Satoru. You tell him about how her eyes seem to gaze into his soul full of love, and the way her tiny nose wrinkles when she sleeps just like his. A lone tear falls down Satoru's face, filled with heartache knowing that he will never be able to see her with his own eyes.
In that vulnerable moment, you hold Satoru close, letting him know that you were there. He smiles at you as he feels your touch, sniffling. There was determination in Satoru’s eyes. He was going to cherish every moment with his family.
"I'll be there for both of you," Satoru whispers, his voice filled with quiet resolve. His words carry a promise.
Thank you @suguwife for this lovely idea and the discord server as well!
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remlionheart · 12 days ago
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up against the wall
୨ৎ MDNI. this is the first fic i've really posted that's come with a caution sign, but dark content ahead, you have been warned ♡ this was originally an oc x dazai but i converted into dazai x fem!reader for all of you who wanted to read it ♡ a bit yandere on both dazai and reader's part. full submission. degradation and praise. gunplay. dom!dazai ((fucking yum)). lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡୨ৎ
take me, take me back to your bed i love you so much that it hurts my head. say I don't mind you under my skin i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in... ─★ now playing: degausser
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You had always known what and who Osamu Dazai was. The parts of him that he’d given you and the parts of him that he tried to hide– they were both engrained into your mind. Clawed and carved into your heart no matter how much he attempted to conceal off pieces of himself that he didn’t want you to have access to.
He'd learned pretty early on in your relationship that there was no such thing as avoiding you, not just because of your Mind Glimpse, but because of who you were as a person. The sheer lengths that you'd go just to get to him were hopeless and absolutely devoid of all logic. 
At 16, you'd tattooed his initial on your forearm when Mori tried to put an end to your relationship. Nearly killed yourself a couple of years later when you somehow managed to teleport all the way from Port Mafia to his apartment, collapsing in his living room from overusing your ability all because he wouldn't answer your calls. There was no obstacle or barrier strong enough to stop you from gravitating towards him the way you did and the worst part was, Osamu... liked your earth-shattering devotion to him.
He'd never experienced love before and he'd certainly never experienced… whatever it was between the two of you before either, but there was something about your raw and unapologetic honesty that captivated him. He’d spent so much of his life being conditioned to lie and manipulate to get others to bend to his will and yet, you... would happily break yourself for him just because.
You'd do anything, really. Any request, no matter the cost. Any command, no matter the risk. Any hoop, no matter the height– you'd always find a way, finishing the task with with wide eyes and a smile. “Like that? Was that good?” You might as well have been a puppy with how you obeyed him so thoroughly. It was equal parts amusing and… something else entirely. Something that Dazai wasn't quite ready to face.  
The nickname “little ghost” that he'd gifted you expanded well beyond your ability to vanish, it rang true in all aspects of your relationship. You were his shadow. His mirror. Your curiosity just as relentless and unwavering as his own. Your determination and shamelessness just as dangerous when it came to getting the things you wanted and he was always the thing you wanted most.
You saw him, even when he didn’t think you did. Not just the flippant exterior that he presented to the outside world. Not the hollow cut-out version of himself that he used to blend into crowds. No, you saw him– the full scope of who he was and who he pretended not to be, and you still clung onto him like your life depended on it. Craved him. Haunted him. Trusted him. And worst of all, loved him. Really, sincerely, desperately loved him.
In your first year at Port Mafia, Dazai had written you off as entertainment. A fun, fragile little toy that he could pick up and dissect whenever he got bored and he got bored a lot. But you were happy to oblige, often catching him off guard with how excitedly you would offer parts of yourself up to him without him even having to ask.
You were an enigma in your own right. Something he’d never really seen before. So starved for attention but so infuriatingly stubborn when it came to letting yourself receive it. So obsessed with the idea of love but so tragically clueless when it came to actually being able to identify it. So in-tune with the emotions of everyone else around you but so completely unaware of your own. You were dangerous– Mori’s worst migraine and Dazai’s best asset with the way your ability would spiral out of control when your feelings became too much for you to bear.
Dazai was hardly solid, made up of nothing more than loose-leaf ideas and questionable personality traits that he’d stolen from others and pieced together for himself over the years. But to you, he was so much more. He was the very foundation beneath your feet, the gravity that kept you standing and upright most days, never letting you float too far into your mind. He was the only thing that could stabilize you and not just from his nullification, but from simply being there. As Chuuya had pointed out so many times, the two of you were “a match made in hell”, but you both seemed to find more comfort than threat in the flames you created together.  
Four years ago, if you would’ve asked Dazai how it happened– how your relationship with him had morphed into something that bared such an eerie resemblance to that of trust and understanding, he would’ve dismissed it, but now…
His eyes narrowed, amusement flickering across his face as you circled him in your makeshift training room. “Careful. I told you I’m not gonna let you win this time.”
A spark of silver and blue electricity cracked into the air, your small frame vanishing from where you had been standing across from him, only to reappear right beside him. Your breath hot and tantalizing against the shell of his ear, “Be rough with me then, I can take it.” The smile in your voice was palpable and then– gone.
Now… there was no denying how much he loved chasing and breaking you, his favorite little toy.
He let you have your fun for a few more minutes, folding his arms over his chest with a smirk as you teleported across the abandoned warehouse with precision, pressing soft kisses against his cheek before disappearing into a snap of iridescent energy.
You hid behind a crate, concentrating as your gaze locked onto one of the heavy industrial light fixtures before pulling it down from the rafters, letting it crash next to where Dazai was standing.
"Wow," he mused, giving you a fake clap. "Had I been 12 feet closer, you might've actually gotten me."
He didn't have to know where you were hiding to know that he'd struck a nerve, a smaller lightbulb bursting in one of the overhead lights indicated that you heard him.
"Come here," he said, his voice softening a bit as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight. He barely had to side-step to dodge the tire that had been hurled his way. Your emotions were erratic but always predictable.
"Baby, c'mon. It's not my fault you have terrible aim. That's why we're here anyway, remember?"
There was a crackle of energy, another flash of steel blue before you finally reappeared in front of him, a pout that he was all-too familiar with looking back at him.
He bit back a laugh watching you sink into yourself.
"Look, it's about focus, okay?" His tone transitioned into something more serious as he took a slow step towards you. "As long as Mori sees you as his own personal project, I need you to be prepared for anything. You're gonna start getting sent on higher ranking missions sooner than later and I need to know that you're ready for that."
There was something about the way he said it– about the genuine concern coating his words that made your chest tighten.
You let your eyes meet his again as you nodded. "Okay," you breathed, the bratty rebuttal you had lined up promptly dying on the tip of your tongue as you took in his features. "What do you want me to do?"
"Teleport to me, we're going to go over intuition and reflexes."
You drew in a sharp breath before closing your eyes, electricity dancing along your skin as you accidentally snapped yourself directly in front of him so that you were chest to chest.
"Surely you wouldn't get this close to an enemy," he smirked, "but for argument's sake, let's say you did. Let's say you landed right in front of them, just like this and they –"
Without any time to think, Dazai had already reached into the inside of his coat pocket, the cold metal of his Beretta suddenly resting easily against your temple. “What now?” He whispered, looking down at you with provoking curiosity. "What are your instincts telling you to do?"
It wasn't the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you, but it was definitely the first time you'd had a gun drawn on you this... intimately. Your body betrayed you, displaced warmth migrating to your cheeks as you blinked back at him through heavy lashes. Your instincts were certainly there, they were just... all wrong.
Dazai caught your reaction immediately, the fleeting but unmistakable flicker of lust that washed over you.
"Oh?" He quipped, leaning down while pressing the barrel further into your delicate skin. "What’s this, huh?" His stare was equal parts predatory and incredulous as his eyes trailed over you, zeroing in on every small, subtle shift you made. The way your breathing had slowed, the goosebumps that decorated your arms, the way your hips couldn't help but tilt towards his ever-so slightly. "You like it, don't you? Like the way it feels when your life’s in my hands?”
"No, I'm–" You faltered, your words completely stolen by the knowing smirk that had cut across his face. "I'm just– thinking, is all."
"Thinking” he echoed, his other hand gently cradling your jawline as he forced you to keep your eyes locked with his. “And what exactly are you thinking about? Please, enlighten me.”
You had to bite back a smile, trying your best to mask your flimsy composure though you knew he could already see straight through it. "Strategy." You lied, jutting your bottom lip back out in faux innocence.
Dazai couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he tilted his head towards yours, closing the already small gap between you. "Is that right?" He mused, his lips just barely grazing yours. "My diligent little ghost, always so focused."
You nodded back at him helplessly, his grin razor sharp as his hand trailed from your jaw to the back of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcefully cocking your head to the side.
It earned him a yelp as he continued to hold his weapon to you. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His breath fanned across your skin, leaving a delirious static in its wake while his body pressed against yours, pinning you between him and a metal crate. "Your eyes give you away every time."
"Dazai..." It wasn't quite a moan, but alarmingly close to one as his lips found the nape of your neck, his teeth lightly sinking into you.
"This opens up all sorts of doors for us though, doesn't it?" His curiosity was reaching new heights, dangerous ones that he'd always tried to keep at bay, but now... the glazed over eyes staring back at him were giving him all the confirmation he never needed to keep going.
You nearly moaned into his mouth when he finally kissed you, your hands desperately tangling into the collar of his shirt as you pulled him in closer. Your movements urgent and beyond your control.
"Spread for me." He said between breaths, using his leg to coax yours apart. "I wanna see something."
You were so lost, so needy and overtaken by the feeling of him that you merely whimpered in response, not caring about anything else except for the feeling of his lips back on yours.
"Good girl," he exhaled, hiking your skirt up as he slowly began to slide his gun down along your face. "You trust me, don't you?"
“Always.” You said despite the way your legs were trembling, your nerves dancing with a vicious mix of excitement and fear as he traced the barrel of the gun over your puffy lips.
He angled his knee just right, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while you gradually parted your lips for him, welcoming the cold metal into your mouth.
Dazai had never been one for big acts of commitment, but watching you moan into his loaded Beretta made him realize that maybe he did need to know your ring size after all. Just in case.
"Look at you," he groaned, nearly losing himself to the sight of it. "So fucking gorgeous when you're at my mercy like this."
The praise went straight to your center, your body humming with dizzy want and unrelenting need as he carefully retracted it, his mouth dropping open watching the trail of spit that connected you to it break and drip graciously down your chin.
You were fulfilling fantasies of his that he thought he'd only ever get to dream of as he leaned into you again, letting you cling onto him tighter. The two of you worked in perfect feral synchronicity, him pulling the thin fabric of your underwear down over your thighs to help you step out of them before you kicked them out of reach.
"Osamu..." Your voice had been reduced down to a heady plea, one that he'd do anything in his power to satisfy.
"I’m right here.” He lulled, his grip tangled straight back into your hair while his mouth returned to yours, his other hand working on something much more... nefarious.
"Relax for me,” his voice was soft but commanding, laced with something that made you trust him though you knew you shouldn’t. “That's right. Just like that.”
Your pupils doubled in size as you felt the harsh metal begin to slip between your sensitive folds, your words suddenly eviscerated by the way he was staring down at you through dark, clouded eyes. How completely and utterly lost he looked as he spread you apart, a sense of desperation that you'd never quite seen from him before radiating off of each move he made.
"Oh...my god," Every last bit of logical thinking you had was gone, your mind and body both succumbing to the foreign sensation as he kept up a firm but gentle pace, running it uppp and dowwnnn in a way that made yours legs threaten to buckle.
"Dazai," you whined, your nails tearing into his shoulder for support as the motion became more fluid, your arousal acting as a shameful lubricant. You were almost embarrassed by how noticeable it was, how easy it was for him to glide it across you and how loud you’d gotten as you tried to bury your face into his chest.
Dazai, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. Only ascending further into the heavens with each lewd, begging little whimper that spilled out of you. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" He soothed, kissing and nipping at your collarbone while you started to find a rhythm, the steel still sending chills down your spine each time it brushed across your overstimulated clit. "I don't think you do," he groaned, "I really don't think you fucking understand what you do to me."
Getting praised by him to any degree always had a way of bringing you to the edge, but this... this was a type of euphoria that you didn't even know existed.
“You know the safety’s off?” He purred against your neck, his heart slamming into his chest as he watched the pouty, pleading look that had taken over you. The same one he’d seen so many times before but never quite like this.
Your slick was practically dripping onto his fingers the more he taunted you, your center greedily searching for release as your hips rocked up towards him.
“All it would take is one little slip, you know.” He was tortuously intoxicating, bringing you to your breaking point by whispering the most infernal little nothings. “With how soaked my fingers are, it’s almost like you want me to. Like you’re just begging for me to-”
Your entire body shook by his last threat, your brows knitting together while you frantically pulled him closer, repeating his name like a prayer in the small space between you. In all his time with you, he'd never seen you this undone before, this fucking beautiful and pathetic. There was something about it, about knowing that he was the only one who would ever get this type of blind obedience out of you that made something inside him ache.
“Dazai ~!”
The whine you let out was so heavy your eyes nearly crossed, more incoherent obscenities bouncing off the concrete floors.
Your cunt was pulsating, absolutely desperate for something to fill it as the orgasm hit you in waves, the rigidness of his gun still sending shockwaves through your thighs. There was a sense of pride and awe that crept over him at how well you responded to him, how overwhelmingly easy it was to break you.
"You're so pretty." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead as he meticulously drifted the weapon back up over your stomach with a small grin. "Fucking insane, but so, so pretty."
You smiled breathlessly back at him, the loaded gun against your body completely forgotten by the weight of his compliment. “You think so?"
“Oh, I know so,” he smirked against your neck, freeing himself from his pants as his teeth sank into your skin. "You just came to the idea of me killing you and now you're all heart-eyed asking me if I really think you're pretty or not." He let out a semblance of a laugh, propping you up to wedge you against the crate again while your legs wrapped around him for support, his Beretta now resting tenderly under your chin. "My sweet girl... you're almost as deranged as I am."
The pink that swept across your face only added to the long list of reasons you were able to hold his attention. You were innocence mixed with sin. Naivety mixed with lust. He was holding a loaded gun to your head and you were all but saying “thank you.”
Your blush deepened as he prodded at your entrance, your eyes glazing over at how thoroughly his tip stretched you. “Dazai –” you whined, both of you reeling from how faithfully your walls sucked him in.
“What is it, angel?” His tone was thick with mockery, his finger resting lazily on the trigger as your nails met his back again. “Feel good?"
You nodded back at him, lips parting the deeper he went. “So good,” you exhaled, your back arching to invite him in more as he thrusted into you. “So fucking good.”
He watched you intently, his dark eyes nearly burning holes into your skin with how fervent his movements had become.
He was drowning in you, both physically and mentally– sinking further and further into the way you welcomed every part of him, both the good and bad. Even with the possibility of death looming over you, your only focus was him. The rest of the world, the threat of your life ending with one easy slip of a finger– none of it mattered as long as it was him that pulled the trigger.
"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" His voice was venomous, gentle enough to subdue you but still poisonous enough to seep into your veins without detection. "You'd let me be the one that to make that fragile heart of yours stop beating."
The answer was written all over of your face, evident in the way your core clenched around him the further he pushed.
You were soaking him, letting out the most gorgeous fucked-out noises he'd ever heard as he continued to wrap around your mind like the serpent that he was, robbing you of the last bit of dignity you had left.
"Say it." Dazai commanded, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Let me fucking hear, it baby." He was just as lost as you were, riding a high he'd never experienced before as his hips met yours with untamed urgency.
"I –" Your vision blurred, your thighs trembling while his tip relentlessly slammed into your sweet spot. You could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, his dark stare the only thing keeping you tethered to the room. "I– would." you finally choked out, almost drooling from how deep he suddenly was. "Dazai please, I'd– let you. I'd let you do anything, any... thing."
It wasn't the first time that he'd had someone beg while under the scope of his gun– some had begged him to spare their lives. Some had begged for him to just end it altogether. But no one had ever begged out of... love.
The noise he made was guttural, primal as his lips crashed into yours, his resolve crumbling entirely. His forehead pressed against yours while your walls spasmed around him like a vice, your core unravelling in a way that made him forget all of his senses.
You were smothering him, your nails tearing into his skin as your broken voice sang out his name like he'd trained you to do.
"There it is," he almost wasn't sure if it was you or himself he was saying it to as he began to twitch inside you. "There it– is, baby. Keep going. Don't stop." He was falling straight into the same abyss you were, the two of you tumbling hand in hand into a seemingly never-ending void of bliss.
"You're mine," he promised, letting his body seal the vow he was creating as he watched a desperate kind of sincerity settle over your features.
"Yours." you repeated softly, eyes full of conviction.
His chest heaved as he buried the last of his logical thinking and carnal desires into you at once. A damning warmth suddenly coating your walls while he slowly retracted the gun away from you and replaced it something much more sinister– affection.
His fingers gently traced over the side of your cheek as your uneven breathing mingled together. "Deranged." He panted with a faint smirk, "Certifiably insane."
You merely smiled as he pulled out of you, carefully getting you back to your feet. "And yours." You reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah," he teased, kneeling down to grab your discarded underwear. "Just stay still for me." He was tentative as he helped you redress, adjusting and smoothing down your skirt while stealing proud glances at the mess he'd left dripping down your leg.
You quietly admired him, noting the tenderness in the way he handled you as you stood perfectly still, only moving when he’d guide you.
Your brows furrowed slightly when he stood back up and pulled his Beretta out of his pocket again, opening the chamber to let a bullet fall into his hand. "Here," he said, offering it to you, "a little keepsake. Maybe you can turn it into a necklace or something."
You held it up to the light like it was a precious stone, your jewelry box back at Port Mafia suddenly calling your name as your brain danced with ideas of how to turn it into something even more beautiful.
Dazai couldn't help but grin as he watched you twirl it between your fingers with all of the delicacy in the world, your eyes wide with wonder.
It was fitting, he thought, the way you were able to make art out of even the most broken things.
⋆.𐙚˚
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personapeters · 4 days ago
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✰ 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭-𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
— frat boyfriend rafe if he turned to college instead of crime (lol)
rating: sfw — cw: a little suggestive, language
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— frat!boyfriend rafe who… during the day wears his regular rich boy attire: a polo, fitted shorts, and sneakers worth more than a semesters tuition. after hours, you’ll find him casually dressed in a university branded tee that hugged his biceps oh-so perfectly, gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a backwards snapback that held his long hair out of his face — perfection.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… is supposed to wear glasses but rarely does, saying they make him look like ‘a fucking geek’. eventually, he became comfortable enough to wear them around you and only you in the privacy of your dorm, and you’d tease him about how he’s the hottest ‘geek’ you’ve ever seen.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… never lets you walk back to your dorm alone, no matter the time or circumstance. whether it be broad daylight or the middle of the night, he makes zero exceptions — he’s seen the way some of the guys interacted with the girls on campus and he’ll burn the place down before it happens to you.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… isn’t really fond of coffee unless its fully black, but occasionally brings you your favorite cream filled and sugar loaded latte when you have an early morning class, loving how much sweeter it makes your mouth taste.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… begrudgingly walks (practically drags) your drunk friends back to their dorms whenever you ask him to, though he couldn’t care less how they got home. as terrible as it sounds, he only does it for you.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… enjoys to show you off to his frat brothers but simultaneously hates when they look at you. it didn’t make sense, and he was well aware of that, but it’s true — in a ‘look how hot my girl is’ yet a ‘she’s mine, don’t look at her’ way.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… met you at the campus library, as cliche as it is. he was only there to make quick deal outside, but when he spotted you through a window as your fingers grazed the spines of the books on the shelf, he knew he had to go inside.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… loves when you wear his university branded t-shirts and hoodies, loving how they swallow you whole as your sleeping gowns or when you roll them up, paired with leggings: “fuck, keep that one — looks so fuckin’ good on you.”
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… insists on covering any and every cost that your scholarships don’t and more; books, supplies, dorm furniture, food, clothes, gas, fees, whatever. of course, you were bewildered as to how a college student had enough money to fund someone else’s life, let alone their own, but once you learned the entirety of his lengthy backstory, it all made plenty of sense.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… has gotten into his fair share of fights over you, feeling it’s mandatory that everyone on campus knows who’s girl you are and what happens when they challenge that. let it be a suggestive comment or a lingering touch, rafe’s always quick to set shit straight. typically, that type of behavior would result in expulsion, but with the cameron family’s high status and money, rafe was never actually punished for anything.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… only made it into the same university as you due to his wealth. sure, he was smart but wouldn’t have made it in without his monetary advantage. he’d often get angry and frustrated whenever doing work he simply couldn’t master, but you were like his personal tutor, reassuring him that he can, he just needs to take the time and study (with your help, of course).
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… has your schedule memorized, often casually leaning outside of your classroom with his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for you to emerge so he can shamelessly perform some p.d.a. before escorting you to your next location.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… once brought you to visit his home town on a break, the outer banks, taking you to all of his favorite spots and, hesitantly, introducing you to his close friends and family. he even explained the whole ‘pogues vs kooks’ thing, emphasizing his distaste for the latter — you honestly thought it was insane: “y’know… if i grew up here, i’d’ve been a ‘pogue’, too,” you reasoned. “yeah, well, you didn’t,” he stated stoically.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… only went to college with the plan to build his credentials, promising his father he’d soon join in on running the family business. his father was impressed to hear that, saying, “really? wow… m’proud of you, son,” hugging him firmly in a way he seldom did; all rafe’s ever wanted was to be loved and accepted by his dad, and this was his way to do it.
— frat!boyfriend rafe who… is very aware of and annoyed by how other girls throw themselves at him during parties or in the halls — instead of it fueling his ego, it only angers him because he knows they can see you standing right next to him: “swear the bitch is fuckin’ stupid… like she doesn’t see my hand on your ass.”
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 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist
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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months ago
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Prison-tech company bribed jails to ban in-person visits
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!
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Beware of geeks bearing gifts. When prison-tech companies started offering "free" tablets to America's vast army of prisoners, it set off alarm-bells for prison reform advocates – but not for the law-enforcement agencies that manage the great American carceral enterprise.
The pitch from these prison-tech companies was that they could cut the costs of locking people up while making jails and prisons safer. Hell, they'd even make life better for prisoners. And they'd do it for free!
These prison tablets would give every prisoner their own phone and their own video-conferencing terminal. They'd supply email, of course, and all the world's books, music, movies and games. Prisoners could maintain connections with the outside world, from family to continuing education. Sounds too good to be true, huh?
Here's the catch: all of these services are blisteringly expensive. Prisoners are accustomed to being gouged on phone calls – for years, prisons have done deals with private telcos that charge a fortune for prisoners' calls and split the take with prison administrators – but even by those standards, the calls you make on a tablet are still a ripoff.
Sure, there are some prisoners for whom money is no object – wealthy people who screwed up so bad they can't get bail and are stewing in a county lockup, along with the odd rich murderer or scammer serving a long bid. But most prisoners are poor. They start poor – the cops are more likely to arrest poor people than rich people, even for the same crime, and the poorer you are, the more likely you are to get convicted or be suckered into a plea bargain with a long sentence. State legislatures are easy to whip up into a froth about minimum sentences for shoplifters who steal $7 deodorant sticks, but they are wildly indifferent to the store owner's rampant wage-theft. Wage theft is by far the most costly form of property crime in America and it is almost entirely ignored:
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jun/15/wage-theft-us-workers-employees
So America's prisons are heaving with its poorest citizens, and they're certainly not getting any richer while they're inside. While many prisoners hold jobs – prisoners produce $2b/year in goods and $9b/year in services – the average prison wage is $0.52/hour:
https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html
(In six states, prisoners get nothing; North Carolina law bans paying prisoners more than $1/day, the 13th Amendment to the US Constitution explicitly permits slavery – forced labor without pay – for prisoners.)
Likewise, prisoners' families are poor. They start poor – being poor is a strong correlate of being an American prisoner – and then one of their breadwinners is put behind bars, taking their income with them. The family savings go to paying a lawyer.
Prison-tech is a bet that these poor people, locked up and paid $1/day or less; or their families, deprived of an earner and in debt to a lawyer; will somehow come up with cash to pay $13 for a 20-minute phone call, $3 for an MP3, or double the Kindle price for an ebook.
How do you convince a prisoner earning $0.52/hour to spend $13 on a phone-call?
Well, for Securus and Viapath (AKA Global Tellink) – a pair of private equity backed prison monopolists who have swallowed nearly all their competitors – the answer was simple: they bribed prison officials to get rid of the prison phones.
Not just the phones, either: a pair of Michigan suits brought by the Civil Rights Corps accuse sheriffs and the state Department of Corrections of ending in-person visits in exchange for kickbacks from the money that prisoners' families would pay once the only way to reach their loved ones was over the "free" tablets:
https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/03/jails-banned-family-visits-to-make-more-money-on-video-calls-lawsuits-claim/
These two cases are just the tip of the iceberg; Civil Rights Corps says there are hundreds of jails and prisons where Securus and Viapath have struck similar corrupt bargains:
https://civilrightscorps.org/case/port-huron-michigan-right2hug/
And it's not just visits and calls. Prison-tech companies have convinced jails and prisons to eliminate mail and parcels. Letters to prisoners are scanned and delivered their tablets, at a price. Prisoners – and their loved ones – have to buy virtual "postage stamps" and pay one stamp per "page" of email. Scanned letters (say, hand-drawn birthday cards from your kids) cost several stamps:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve
Prisons and jails have also been convinced to eliminate their libraries and continuing education programs, and to get rid of TVs and recreational equipment. That way, prisoners will pay vastly inflated prices for streaming videos and DRM-locked music.
The icing on the cake? If the prison changes providers, all that data is wiped out – a prisoner serving decades of time will lose their music library, their kids' letters, the books they love. They can get some of that back – by working for $1/day – but the personal stuff? It's just gone.
Readers of my novels know all this. A prison-tech scam just like the one described in the Civil Rights Corps suits is at the center of my latest novel The Bezzle:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
Prison-tech has haunted me for years. At first, it was just the normal horror anyone with a shred of empathy would feel for prisoners and their families, captive customers for sadistic "businesses" that have figured out how to get the poorest, most desperate people in the country to make them billions. In the novel, I call prison-tech "a machine":
a million-­armed robot whose every limb was tipped with a needle that sank itself into a different place on prisoners and their families and drew out a few more cc’s of blood.
But over time, that furious empathy gave way to dread. Prisoners are at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve. They endure the technological torments that haven't yet been sanded down on their bodies, normalized enough to impose them on people with a little more privilege and agency. I'm a long way up the curve from prisoners, but while the shitty technology curve may grind slow, it grinds fine:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware
The future isn't here, it's just not evenly distributed. Prisoners are the ultimate early adopters of the technology that the richest, most powerful, most sadistic people in the country's corporate board-rooms would like to force us all to use.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch
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chxrryhansen · 10 months ago
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2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).   
-💎
ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・��✧
you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.
rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.
rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.
“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.
“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.
“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”
you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”
he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.
“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.
“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”
a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.
rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.
“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.
he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.
“cum.”
he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”
your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”
rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.
your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.
“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.
he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”
if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.
“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”
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mariaace · 4 months ago
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What's this? Affection...Do it again.
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A/n: So like our precious bllk men. Talked with my bsf about these idiot and ugh got to writing.
Summery: how they react to affection. Do they return it?(gn!reader)
Pairings: Isagi, Rin, Reo, Bachira, Chigiri, Sae
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Isagi Yoichi
Isagi loves your affection. He adores it!! Would never stop you or push you away. He most likely like hugging you, because that's when you are the closest to him. His hand is usually around your shoulder or waist, especially if you are around his friends from blue lock. He loves running to you after a match, when you are in the front line of the audience, watching him. People around you are screaming. Like y'all are kissing in every photo of his matches. Forehead kisses are his to go for when you are in public. He loves when you run your hand through his hair whether that be in public or private. In general, he would return your affection right away, and he loves it.
Rin Itoshi
Rin likes your affection, but he doesn't show it. Okay, he may return it, but way more silently than you. He would brush his knee against yours when you are sitting, walk you from the paparazzi by putting his hand on your back, give you his water bottle to drink. He, most of the time, acts annoyed when you show too much affection, or when you ask to kiss him in public he'll say no, hoping you would ask again. In public tho, he would react a lot. Especially with the paparazzi around you. Overall, you are definitely the more affectionate one and he acts annoyed on it, but don't worry, he appreciates it a lot <33
Reo Mikage
Reo falls in love with you again everytime you show his affection to him in public. He is also most likely more affectionate than you, doesn't matter if in public or private. He'll jump on you the moment he sees you. He really loves your affection tho, especially if you aren't the one to show it a lot. Here, you'll have to be the one to return his. Nagi is telling you that you are gross, while you are wrapped around Reo. To the paparazzi? Oh ho. He's showing off, he is not hiding. Of course, if you feel uncomfortable with that, tell him. The last thing he wants is for you to be uncomfortable.
Bachira Meguru
Bachira... We'll he's Bachira. If he doesn't return your affection, there is not a person who would. Keeping that in mind, you two don't leave each others sides. Like two puppies in love (it kind of is). He will shower you with affection three times bigger than yours, but it was your fault for kissing him on the face. He isn't trying to purposely show you off in public, but he does in unintentionally! Or he is just all over you and people already know. If you don't return his affection, he will think you're mad at him :( please tell him that's not true
Chigiri Hyoma
Now this pretty princess, looooooves the attention you're giving him, like genuinely loves it. ESPECIALLY if you two are in public, because he can show how much his partner loves him!! Would he return the affection? Yes... eventually. Don't get me wrong okay? He will return it, but probably behind closet doors (yes i believe Chigiri can sometimes be not much of a PDA person) or he'll show it in his own way that is unfamiliar to others, but not to you, so only you could now. Still, he loves having you close all the time no matter what. In front of paparazzi? Quick! Pose! You gotta steal the light!
Sae Itoshi
Oh this bitch, where so i start with him. Does he like your affection? Hmmmm he tolerates it... I'm kidding, yes he likes it, he wouldn't be dating you otherwise. He just would never admit it even if it cost his life, but you know he does. But he isn't returning it in public at all. Like no freaking chance, especially if they are paparazzi. He gotta keep the reputation you know? In closed doors tho? If he's exhausted, clingy or you just ask him enough, yes he would. But you gotta be more pushy. (More passion, more energy)
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© mariaace 2024 pls do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!
@dazailoveschuuya
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iateyourparents · 1 year ago
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MORE JAKE PLS
Maybee like doing a stream with him in the car or filming a video where he takes us shopping and buys everything for us kinda like the vid where he ‘becomes’ johnnies ‘sugar daddy’ and we share a lil kiss hehehehe :3
sugar daddy | j.w.
pairing: jake webber x fem!reader
summary: jake records a new video for his channel with you.
warnings: use of y/n, short, jake being little rich boy, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)
an: thankss love! i’m not sure if i’m content with how it turned out but i hope you like it <33
pictures are from pinterest :)
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“Today I’m gonna be the hottest American sugar daddy once again!” Jake started his video “But today my sugar baby is my girl, y/n!” you waved to the camera “How do you feel?”
“Already spoiled.” you laughed.
“Yeah, cause he totally doesn’t buy you everything you want without camera too.” Johnnie snorts from behind the camera and you laugh at that too.
It’s true, Jakes loves to spoil you without any reason. It’s tuesday? Here’s earrings that you were looking at on Monday. You’re on your period? I ordered you those shoes that you said were pretty. You loved it about Jake but also it made you feel bad that you don’t buy him as many things as he buys for you, but like he always says, if he wasn’t supposed to spoil you then he wouldn’t have so much money.
“Everything for my baby.” Jake shrugged with wide smile “So where do you wanna go first?”
“Zara?” you offered and he nodded. Then he took your hand and started to lead you towards said shop while talking to the camera about how buying you pretty things, somehow makes him happy.
“Alright, any plans on what are we looking for?” Jake asked you.
“Yeah actually, I saw this pretty skirt on their website and I would like to try it on.” you said “Also, I saw the cutest sweater with little hearts.”
“Aww, let’s get it, I’m sure you will look great.” Jake stated and on your way to the sweaters area he took few things that he thought would look great on you. And well, he wasn’t wrong.
Your next stop was at hot topic where he bought you some things without even consulting it with you first but like he said, he wanted it to be a surprise for you.
Then you went to eat something and you were sure his fans would be making a kiss count in the comments with how many kisses he stole from you and how many pecks he left all over your face.
Few more stores and you were done recording. You had seven bags with things he bought you and you really felt bad for his wallet but he only waved his hand stating that it was a pleasure for him and he wouldn’t mind doing it again, but you obviously didn’t agree for that. He already bought you too many things and you weren’t sure if you ever would be able to pay him back for how much he spoiled you, both with material things and with love and kisses.
He was perfect.
So when next day he came back home, you surprised him with a dinner, dessert, few presents and much love.
“You know, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you.” He stated when you were cuddling in bed.
“You? I don’t know what I did so right that I got you.” you giggled.
“You’re just perfect.” his smile couldn’t be wider “I actually ordered you those cute heels with bows.”
“Jake…” you squinted your eyes at him “You’re insane, did you see how much they cost?”
“Yeah. But it’s just money. It will come back but you deserve it.” he kissed your forehead.
“You should cancel the order anyway.” you lightly slapped his chest.
“No way.”
And well, Jake wouldn’t be opposed spending all his money on you if you would pay him back like that.
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hug-your-face · 10 months ago
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Insight today while washing the lettuce and thinking of my friend who doesn't want to vote.
They are an otherwise intelligent, responsible, generous person, who appears to be socially conscious. They have worked hard and long for their position in their profession. They express concern for the planet. They get twitchy if you use too many paper towels.
But they don’t want to vote for Biden for reasons, and quote "doesn't like the whole system where the parties take turns swinging things back and forth" unquote.
I have been dumbstruck at their attitude for about two months now. I've been thrashing back and forth trying to reconcile this person I love with their attitude:
If you care abt the planet enough to conserve paper towels, don’t you care enough to stop a Repub administration from raping the land?
If you don’t like how things can swing back and forth, don't you want an administration that's going to work to shore up, rather than dismantle, more lasting democratic systems of governance?
If you understand the value of the long game, why are you only satisfied with instant results from a single election rather than viewing that election as a single move in an ongoing process?
The insight came to me as I used an extra set of paper towels to dry my lettuce:
These people are not motivated by outcomes. They are motivated by how their choices make them FEEL.
Not how the outcomes of their choices will make them feel. But how the action associated with their choices makes them feel.
In terms of outcomes for the environment, saving paper towels doesn't do shit compared to pushing for restrictions on oil companies. But using half a paper towel is an instant dopamine hit: "Ahhh, I am caring for Mother Earth. I care. I am a good person. Ahh yes that's the stuff."
This model fits for voting too. We know that The Only Votes That Count Are Those Cast. We know that Dems Go Where The Votes Are Not Where The Votes Aren't. We know that voting in every election, every time, in numbers, is a very low-effort way to contribute to moving the Overton window farther left.
But in the moment, for people who are motivated by how their action associated with their choice makes them feel... the absolute best move for their dopamine supply is to abstain: "I am NOT supporting an old fart; I am NOT supporting genocide; I am Challenging The System; I am a good person. Ahh yes, that's the stuff."
At the time, when I challenged my friend on their position, they held up their hands and said "look, I'm not saying I have any answers, I'm just saying I don’t like how the system works."
They didn't like how participating in the system made them FEEL in the moment.
For those of us who think this is madness, hey, we aren't off the hook entirely. We are basing our choices and actions off of outcomes, true. But there's probably a feeling/dopamine component in there too. "I am holding my nose and voting Blue; I am doing my part to actually affect the future even if I hate some things abt my choice; I am a good person. Ahh yes, that's the stuff."
So maybe the difference isn't in the motivation (my feelings and self-image) but in what motivates us (my action vs the outcome of my action).
I don't have an answer to the question at this time and this post is already long enough. But I'll think on it. And I invite you to do so as well:
For these people (who seem to be a sizable part of the population), how to outweigh the choice where their action preserves their self-image, doesn't cost them dopamine for having to take a "bad" action, and maybe even gives them a happy boost for "not being part of a flawed system?"
For these people, how to help them connect more to the outcome?
Off the cuff, I can't think of any means other than cognitive-behavioral therapy. :/
EDIT: Apparently there's a term for this and it's called Emotivism -- ethics isn't abt effects but abt feelings.
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grandline-fics · 5 months ago
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Can I just say I LOVE your writting? 'cause I do! And I'm so happy requests are open! 🥹 Here I am wondering if you can indulge little old me with a request. I went through your prompts and picked two! If you can combine them, I'd be delighted! If not, it's okay!
Here:
Jealousy fuelled kiss with the sentence:
"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"
My request is a Fem reader and I would love to read Ace, Zoro and Law, if you don't mind! Throw in more if you'd like, I always love me some feral Kid, for instance... But whatever tickles your fancy! I just like some jealous boys! 🤭😋
Thank you again for sharing your gift! 🫶🏻❤️
DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Jealousy fuelled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”
WARNINGS: jealousy! but nothing else apart from that
CHARACTERS: Ace, Zoro, Law, Kid, Rob Lucci
WORDS: 3,531
A/N: Thank you for this request! I added Kid for you and also did one for Lucci because why not haha. I tried to make each scenario different and interesting and I hope you like what I came up with.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST
———————
ACE
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“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” You looked over in the mirror in front of you to see Ace appear in the doorway, arms folded and pout heavy on his lips. You let out a satisfied laugh and finished getting ready for a night out on the island the Moby Dick had just docked at. As you adjusted your outfit-the one Ace loved you in the most- you noticed how his hands twitched. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and do exactly what he’d just confessed and ordinarily you would have let him. However tonight was different and Ace only had himself to blame. Earlier in the evening just before you’d gone to get ready you made a comment about hoping Ace wouldn’t be as flirtatious with the locals this time. He in turn responded with an idle wave of his hand and a comment that. “It’s just harmless babe, you know you’re the only one I want.”
While you knew that was true, the fact that Ace hadn’t even taken a second to consider how you felt was what annoyed you. You weren’t even asking him to stop flirting with others since it sometimes worked in the crew’s favour, you just wanted him to tone it down a little. So after that comment you’d told Ace that from now until you both returned to the ship you were both to pretend you weren’t a couple and you could also flirt with the locals too. Ace had initially grinned and shrugged, happy to play along since it was only flirting and you’d be his again when you both returned to the ship at the end of the night. His grin dropped though when you reminded him that this meant he wasn’t allowed to kiss or touch you at all.
The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard when it was less than hour had passed in the bar and he could barely concentrate on those he was talking to. Try as he might to be laid back as normal he couldn’t help but have his gaze pulled towards you every time the smallest movement occurred in your direction. You’d drawn plenty attention when you’d arrived and he’d expected it. Ace had always counted himself the luckiest man alive you have been the one you chose and jealousy was a foreign feeling to him so to feel it now was unsettling. Over and over he’d reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything. 
Then he heard you laugh and watched when the person talking to you stepped just a little closer. At the same time, the glass in his hand exploded and he looked at his hand engulfed in fire and slight scorch marks on the table. Ace rose and handed money to the barman to cover the cost of the minor damages before stepping out into the cool air to clear his head. He got as far as the fountain in the town-square and sat down, closing his eyes. “Not as easy to be on the watcher’s side is it?”
Ace turned his head sharply to see you sitting down beside him. Immediately he wasted no time in leaning forward. With his fingers pinching your chin and free hand sliding into your hair he claimed your lips, pulling you dizzyingly into one of the most intense and fiery kisses he’d ever given you. Surprised, you managed to recover and return the kiss with equal fervour while letting your boyfriend dictate the pace until you felt you couldn’t breathe. Finally you reluctantly pulled back just enough to catch your breath while Ace pressed more kisses against your jaw and throat. “Lesson learned.” He rasped against your skin, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Jealousy sucks.”
“I dunno…” you laughed, securing your hands on his shoulder and chest. “Has its uses if I get more kisses like that.”
ZORO
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Zoro normally has no problem voicing his own thoughts. Someone’s being a moron? He’ll tell them to shut up and get out of his way. Someone fought fiercely and strong enough to earn his praise? He’ll do so and even make it a point to name something specific he witnessed to ensure them he is being genuine. Zoro prided himself in being upfront and unfortunately he had to call himself a fucking coward. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he felt and anytime he considered it, he backed out just as fast. Instead he had to subject himself to the self-inflicted torture of being close with you but not in the way he fully wanted while also trying to convince himself that he only sees you as a friend because at the moment that’s all he can see you being with him.
“That drink say something to piss you off or something?” Zoro glanced out of the corner of his good eye to see Nami appear and lean against the railing he was also using to brace himself against. “You’ve been glaring at it instead of drinking it and I got concerned.”
“Nothin’ to bother yourself about.” He answered gruffly, forcing his gaze to look out at the lower section of the deck and sipped his drink as if to prove her worry wrong. Though now he had to look at the one thing he’d been trying to avoid; you talking and laughing with the others.
“You should just tell them how you feel already.” Nami hummed, her knowing smirk hidden by the rim of her glass. “Better do it soon too before your chance disappears.”
“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Zoro tried to sound casual but her second remark had made him tense. “Definitely don’t know what you mean about my chance either.”
“Oh please, most of us know you have a feelings for them, we’re just shocked you never made a move yet.” Nami kept her gaze steady on the swordsman, trying to get him to finally see sense. “But now Sanji’s patience has run out. Says if you’re going to be such a coward about it all he’ll finally do what he’s wanted to for ages.”
“Hah!?” Zoro shouted a little too loudly, even drawing the attention of the group below. You looked up at Zoro curiously, watching as he abruptly looked away from the collective stare to focus on Nami with a harsh stare, turning his body slightly to face her. “What’s that shit cook think he’s planning? When the fuck did he call me a coward? I’m gonna slice his smug face off.”
“Wow…for a second there I’d think you were jealous at the thought of them actually falling for Sanji’s charm.” Zoro scoffed and rolled his eyes. The only charm the cook had in his opinion would barely fill a thimble. There was no way you’d fall for that over the top, dramatic, overused nonsense that he threw at anyone with a pulse. Would you? 
Cautiously Zoro looked down at the scene again and his face contorted in disgust to see Sanji’s arm loosely over your shoulder as the two of you laughed at something Usopp was telling the group. Feeling his stare, Sanji glanced up and smirked at Zoro, lightly squeezing your shoulder in affection to you but in also brazen challenge to Zoro. Sharply Zoro turned on his heel and walked down the small staircase, approaching you silently. You looked up at Zoro with a smile, excited that he was finally going to join you all but your smile lessened and became a look of concern to see how serious he was. You were about to ask if he was okay but he spoke first. “I need to talk to you in private.”
Immediately you got to your feet. You knew Zoro well enough to understand he was a man of few words and if he needed to speak to you in private then it was serious. Silently you followed him below deck, only stopping when he felt he was a safe enough distance away from the nosy crewmates left above. You let the seconds tick by, allowing Zoro take his time in voicing his thoughts but seeing him so tense made you worry. Gently you lay your hand on his arm in a way to reassure him that you were there. A gasp left you as Zoro turned suddenly and pulled you against him. His hand fell to your waist as he stared at your parted lips with growing hunger.
“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” The words dropped from his mouth barely a whisper but he was so close each syllable lightly grazed your skin. Unable to speak you could only nod in consent and sank headlong into the kiss Zoro secured on your lips.
LAW
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When Law was captivated by his research, medical procedures, and all over Captain duties, you had to take it upon yourself to keep yourself busy. Normally that was no issue when you were on the Polar Tang and had your own duties and routine to occupy your mind with. This time was different. After running into the Strawhat crew on Punk Hazard you could only sit back and watch as Law proposed an alliance with the rival crew in order to take down one of the four Emperors. You’d been taken by surprise seeing as your Captain and boyfriend didn’t tend to play well with others who weren’t on his crew. Quickly you saw him begin to regret his offer when events began to unfold and Law found himself being dragged along by Strawhat’s whims rather than his planned course of action. 
Everything had worked out in the end though and now you and Law were on the Thousand Sunny, set for Dressrosa. Even though Law wasn’t on his own ship, he quickly made himself at home in the ship’s library and began to indulge in the large collection of books now at his disposal. Knowing you wouldn’t see him anytime soon you had to explore the ship for something to catch your attention since according to the allied crew you were a guest on board and didn’t need to do chores. It went against your nature. You wanted to help and be useful so you still offered each day you were on board. “Aren’t you tired wearing that all the time?”
You turned at the sound of Nami’s voice and immediately you looked down at your boiler suit. It was your normal clothing for the Polar Tang so you really hadn’t considered wearing anything else. Plus being on another crew’s ship it made you feel more at home, unable to stop yourself from missing the others that you knew you would reunite with at some stage. Casually you shrugged and smiled at the red-haired woman. “It’s comfy.”
Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next thing you knew, Nami had you dragged to her room and was throwing clothes at you to try on while telling you that you were far too good looking to hide everything under so much fabric. Mostly you went along with her whims because it would be a way of taking up your unending free time on the ship. Another part of you also got drawn into how nice some of the clothes felt and looked and it was harmless fun.
Law finally dragged himself from his spot in the library and stretched out his stiff limbs. Despite his medical knowledge, he still ended up sitting in the most unwise positions that would leave his back aching and neck tensed. With a groan he made his way out onto the deck only to stagger to a halt when he saw you wearing something completely different to what he was used to you wearing but he was in no way complaining. He loved how you looked regardless but you were breathtaking. His adoration for you was suddenly soured when he saw the others fawning over you. The cook he had no issue with, but to see the sniper blushing and even the swordsman openly talking to you made him glare. Then Strawhat had to push his luck too. “You’re so great! You know you should stay on my crew!”
Law’s room activated and you were promptly swapped to now be pressed close against Law’s side. Before you could reprimand your boyfriend for being rude you were pulled below deck to the library once more and pushed against the door as it closed. You looked up at Law with widened eyes and quickened heart rate, the look in his eyes making your mouth dry and skin warm.
“It’s bad enough that I see you looking so good. I mean do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” He began lowly and you shuddered slightly. “But then I have to see them trying to get too close to you and Strawhat thinking he’s worthy of having you? Ridiculous.”
Law quickly closed the distance, using his frustration and jealousy to spur him on, kissing you passionately.
KID
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Kid had no problem with people looking at you appreciatively. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Look at you. It was clear to anyone with any sense in their skulls that you were one of the hottest people about. For him to see the looks you deserved filled him with a smug sense of pride because you only had eyes for him. He was the lucky bastard that got you all to himself in the ways that it mattered. So they could take their pathetic glimpses and live with the fantasy of picturing what it was like to be with you because he got the real thing. However what he didn’t like was to watch anyone to touch you in a way that wasn’t friendly. 
On this occasion he sat in the darkened corner of a bar having to watch as you were being talked to by some drunken lech. You’d gone to the bar to collect the next round of drinks for the crew when someone approached. At first Kid had shook his head and smirked at the poor fool’s attempt to flirt but then he drew too close to you that Kid disliked. Still he knew you could handle yourself so he just had to grind his teeth and wait for you to expertly disengage yourself like you normally did. However you seemed drawn into the conversation with this man and Kid’s eyes narrowed. 
Immediately he stood with the intent on breaking things up but stopped when you quickly met his gaze. When the drunk turned his head to order another drink you had time to mouth ‘Marine’ to your boyfriend. Kid remained standing and glanced at the man warily, now seeing why you were being careful with him. Slowly he drew closer, making sure his movements were careful and silent while you kept the Marine’s attention effortlessly. Kid knew it was an act but seeing you indulge the man more made his anger grow. Just as Kid stepped behind the Marine, he drunk set his hand on your thigh and squeezed it while leaning closer to your face. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”
Kid had planned to just give the bastard one quick hit to knock him out but seeing that and hearing the words spill from his mouth, he snapped. Reeling his metal arm back, he tapped the Marine on the shoulder. When he turned, his hulking fist connected with the man’s face sending him launching off his feet and slamming painfully against the bar’s wall with the impact smashing the glasses and bottles. Seeing the Marine slumped on the floor helped Kid’s pent up rage but it wasn’t enough. Quickly he grinned at you and pulled you into his arms so he could throw you over his shoulder and leave the bar, no longer in the mood to drink. You stayed happily on Kid’s broad shoulder with a growing smirk as you listened to his jealous mutterings the closer you drew to the ship. 
When you were finally set on your feet on the ship you turned in Kid’s hold that he refused to let you out of and smiled up at him expectantly. When Kid got like this you could practically time the sequence of events and this was your favourite part. Kid stooped down and with a low groan kissed you, devouring your taste and consuming your thoughts with only him while letting your magnetic presence and intoxicating touch leave him wanting more. You were the only one for him and by the morning should anyone look your way in appreciation again they’d spot some pretty marks on your neck to admire too.
LUCCI
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Lucci was a master of his emotions for the most part. He could adopt a personality and live it perfectly for the purposes of a mission and then discard it when it was finished. He could keep his true nature at bay should he need it but in the freedom of Cipher Pol’s base he can just be himself. With powerful strides he walks down the corridors only to stop outside one of the training rooms in time to see you land a kick against Jabra’s stomach. Quickly he recovered and sent an attack your way. You managed to dodge it in time but Jabra caught you by surprise by sending a followup attack and knocked you to the ground, his hand at your throat to keep you pinned down.
For a moment you let your body go slack in a sign of surrender and the second you felt Jabra’s grip loosen you acted, disentangling out of his hold and attacked, taking advantage of his moment of surprise. Just as you were getting into the rhythm of the fight another agent appeared beside Lucci. “Jabra! We have a mission! Did you forget or something?”
You and Jabra paused your fight and you scowled at your sparring partner. You wouldn't have asked him to train with you had you known he would have to cut it short for a mission that he apparently knew about. Jabra briefly glanced at Lucci and quickly threw his arm around your waist before answering his mission partner. “Nah, didn’t forget. I just got a much better offer.” his wolfish grin spreading when he spotted Lucci’s eyes narrow at the comment. You however rolled your eyes and stepped out of the older agent’s hold. “We’ll pick this up when I get back, right?”
“We’ll see.” You told him dismissively which only earned you a quick wink before he left, leaving you alone in the training room with Lucci who remained leaning against the door, looking at his shoulder in disgust when Jabra had the nerve to brush past him on his exit.
“Didn’t know your standards were so low when picking a sparring partner.” He noted, watching you critically. You tilted your head at him curiously and slowly smirked. 
“I’ll be fighting degenerates and unsavoury people out in the field, I wanted someone as close to that as possible for authentic training purproses.” You explained with a light shrug. “Jabra fits that closely, don't you think?”
Lucci allowed himself a low chuckle and pushed away from the doorframe, while pulling the door closed behind him to grant you both a moment of privacy. Your relationship with Lucci was one ou both didn’t feel like putting a real label on. For now you merely enjoyed the physical and social benefits it brought. You remained still as you watched him approach, your eyes alight with interest and mischief that not even he could find himself immune to. “I can see the logic but I can smell that filthy mutt all over you.”
“Jealous?"
“I don't get jealous.” Lucci growled, his hand setting on your waist, merely a coincidence that his hand covered the precise spot Jabra had touched. Your lips twitched into a disbelieving smile and you playfully nodded, pretending to accept his claim. Lucci’s free hand reached up to skim along your throat, again pure coincidence at the placement before he curled his fingers under your jaw to coax you to tilt your head up. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now to get rid of that mutt’s stench?”
“Then do it, Chief.” You said stepping a tiny bit closer. “Let Jabra come back and know for sure that I’m a cat person.” 
With a growl Lucci kissed you possessively, hungrily with purpose of doing just as you suggested. His main goal was to wipe any lingering trace of Jabra from your skin and wipe the other man’s name from your mind. He was very aware that you didn’t see the wolf man that way but still it brought out that animalistic conflict in him, the need to be better than him and from your reactions to his kiss he knew for sure that Lucci was the clear winner.
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becauseicantthinkwritings · 6 months ago
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Objects in Motion
Part 3
Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader
Hey, I hit 4k followers! That's pretty cool, thank you everyone!
Part 1 // Part 2
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A snip taken from Le Printemps, by Eugène Bidau
.
It takes you too long to pick a dress the next morning. There was an issue with all of them, one was too tight around your chest that you could barely breathe, the other had a hole in the sleeve that you hadn’t noticed before.
You'd ended up picking something you hadn't worn in a while- sage green with little flowers on it. 
Halfway to the museum, you'd noticed a small stain on the skirt, that had made you frown.
It wouldn't lift with the wet wipe you'd pulled from your bag, and you'd have to settle for hoping he wouldn't see it.
Your stomach flips at the thought of him.
You'd worn a dress in hopes that this was a date- you didn't understand why you wanted it to be a date so badly.
Okay, that wasn't true, you knew you liked him, even though you shouldn't.
It probably wasn't a date, why would he be interested in dating you?
I haven't had a clear thought since, he'd said, you knew the sentiment, wondering, if he was just like every other Alpha, nice at first and then demanding later.
The other Alphas you'd been with- you try not to shudder- they'd been awful, love bombing until you let your guard down, and then getting angry when you tried to deny them something.
The last one had gotten upset that after only knowing him for two weeks, you didn't want to share your heat with him. 
The scorn he'd shown you when you reinforced your denial instead of caving, it had made you curl up and never want to see another Alpha again.
This Alpha could be worse, he could be cruel, waiting to get you alone to trick you into something you didn't want because you'd stolen his coat. The thought sent an uncomfortable wave of nausea over you.
You see your seedy reflection in the window, everything moving too fast for you to focus on except your own gaze.
You would not be taken advantage of.
.
There’s that too much feeling again, everyone is so busy around you as you stand outside the art museum waiting. You see children running past, and dogs, a delighted scream in the distance that makes your chest feel like it’s on fire with the too much of it all. 
Why did the world have to be so chaotic? Why couldn’t it be warm and quiet and peaceful with hints of cracked pepper and bergamot-
You blink, realising you’d been thinking about the Alpha again.
Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. To get involved with someone that made you feel this way, like you wanted to give in to his demands. At which point would he ask for too much?
Your shoulders drop, you check the time, quarter to twelve.
You turn to leave.
Someone says your name.
You raise your head to find the Alpha approaching. He’s wearing a beige shirt, with large threads that look almost knitted, paired with black pants and another coat that definitely costs more than you can afford. 
Too late, your stomach twists.
You nod your head in greeting.
“Hi,” You acknowledge shyly, “You’re early.”
“Hello, I thought I told you to call me when you got here?”
Your chest squeezes in fright. Was he already making demands?
You keep his gaze, trying to show him a braver you than you were.
“I only just got here.” You challenge, wondering why it was such a big deal.
He nods, raising a hand to push his hair back. You watch him scan the area before letting out a soft breath.
“Sorry, I just didn’t like the idea of you waiting all alone here.”
Was he worried about you?
“I can manage,” You inform him, “I come here all the time.”
He studies you for a moment, looks as though he wants to say something, but decides against it.
“My apologies,” He turns to stand beside you, “Shall we?”
Your stomach flips at his words and you try not to focus on it, or him, and definitely not his smell.
You begin walking.
You try not to touch him, keeping a respectful distance, not wanting to take any part of him he might not be willing to give.
As you walk through the museum’s outdoor park, a lot of people glance your way. Men and women alike, want to steal a look at the man standing beside you. It makes you feel incredibly conscious of yourself, and you feel like the stain on your skirt grows ten times its size in that time.
You wonder if any of their staring has to do with the assumption that you were a mated pair- the thought makes you shiver- the idea that you would be mated to a person that looks like him.
“Cold? Want my coat?” He offers.
You shake your head, not wanting to touch this Alpha’s coats ever again.
“I’m alright, I’m overheating anyway.” You reply, hoping he didn’t ask any follow up questions. Your period would be upon you soon.
“Poor thing.” He soothes.
It almost makes you stumble.
Your eyes widen and you feel a sharp pang in your stomach, his easy comfort swirling in your hindbrain, begging you to curl up with this man in a cozy nest- not a man, you correct yourself, an Alpha.
You’d only walked a few minutes beside him and already you were thinking about bringing him into your nest? Had you gone insane?
You refuse to think about it, focusing on the trees, and the people passing by with dogs on harnesses leading the way-
“Did you grow up in New York?” He asks, his voice breaking into the whirlwind in your head.
You swallow, shaking your head before looking over at him.
Damn- looking at him was a mistake.
You tell him where you grew up on a shaky breath, asking him to reciprocate.
He smiles, calmly responds that he grew up here, bounced around the city a bit. Something about his response, the tone of his voice, tells you that there’s a key part of the story missing.
You don’t pry, knowing better than to ask intrusive questions.
You swallow, smiling at him politely when he looks at you, still trapped in the moment when he offered you his coat.
You catch a group of women with their eyes on William, and when their gaze falls on you, you watch their collective expressions switch from interest to disdain.
You drop your head, finding that maybe the floor is safer to gaze at than your environment.
What were you doing here with him? Why had you done this? You should have just stayed home where you were safer.
“What do you do for work?” He asks next, breaking into the din in your head. 
You turn to look at him with wide eyes, unsure as to why he was so interested in you.
“Uh- I’m- I work in customer service… somehow. I have no idea how I ended up there.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, the tone of his voice sounds genuinely curious.
You glance his way, giving him a smile.
“I’m not exactly a person that’s comfortable around people. I like… being alone.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Not really, but it’s better than nothing.” You let out a breath, “Can’t complain.” You finish with a mutter.
“Something else you want to do?”
You shake your head sadly. You couldn’t very well say that you’d rather not work at all- it would look like you were after his money.
You think for a moment, trying to make something up, and falling short.
“Honestly, I don’t know, I guess I haven’t found my calling yet.”
He nods in understanding, and it gives you the opportunity to ask about his line of work.
“What about you? What do you do?”
“I'm in security,” he answers, “I handle asset and individual protection, and I even get contracted by the government occasionally.”
You listen intently, nodding along to his words. You'd already looked him up and had some idea of what he did, but it was interesting to hear it from him.
“That sounds really cool. Is there a lot of danger?”
He grins, and abjectly, you feel as though you've asked something stupid.
“It can get dicey sometimes, yeah, especially with protecting people.”
“Right, yeah, sorry, dumb question.” You mutter, looking down.
“I like your questions.” He says lowly, angling his head in your direction so that you hear him.
Like a fledgling omega, your heart skips a damn beat.
His eyes are very dark, you try not to trip as you get caught up in them, pools of obsidian, pulling you into him.
He gazes right back, the soft look in his eyes fills your head with delight, makes you forget about breathing for a few moments.
It's something so primal inside of you, a whisper in your head that this… this alpha, might be special. 
You breathe out a short sigh, inching closer, until you're close enough to breathe him in. You close your eyes, taking a deep, slow breath, bergamot and citrus chasing your anxieties away.
You lean in more, hindbrain in control, desperate for more of his scent, his hand is rough on the back of your neck. 
Your nose almost brushes the scent gland on the side of his neck when someone walking past clears their throat loudly.
You jerk, pulling back, brain restarting as absolute horror fills you.
No way did you almost scent a stranger in a public place.
You make a sound of regret, stepping back, his hand slips from your neck, you glance up at him, the scent of desire heavy in the air.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” You vocalise, turning away for a second to catch your breath and calm yourself.
“I wasn't stopping you.” He admits, as you continue to breathe.
This was too much, he had too much of an influence on you. His words make your stomach flip.
It was a very good thing, you decided, that you'd chosen a public place. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what would have happened if you'd been alone. You weren't sure if you had the capacity to stop yourself around him.
He had the hidden ability to somehow switch your brain from rationality to instinct. And that, was the most dangerous thing of all.
“I'm sorry,” you say again, trying not to cry from how overwhelming it is to resist him, “If you- if you want to leave I'll understand.”
“Not at all, omega.” He replies almost instantly, “I want this, don't be sorry.” He reaches out to take your hand in his, giving you a reassuring squeeze.
“Come on.” He guides, taking a step forward to prompt you into walking again.
He doesn't let go of your hand.
.
The sandwich shop has an old feel to it, sitting at the center of the park with lots of seating both indoors and out for dining, the little building looks like it was built at least a decade or two ago. The roof is partially made of glass to allow natural light to spill in, blocked by trees all around except in the direct centre where a large amount of light spills in.
When Billy asks to be seated in the coolest spot, you turn to look at him in surprise, your stomach twisting, heart accelerating as you take in his casual dominance of his environment.
Like other Alphas, he knew how to command a room, though, with him, the assertion was more subtext. He was polite, and yet he always seemed to get what he wanted. It was a dangerous mix, and the implications of what that meant for you scared you a little.
“Is here okay?” He asks, turning to you when the woman at the front guides you to a table.
You blink in surprise. No one had ever-
You study the booth with a little frown, finding it a little too bright for your senses and then your eyes drift two tables down to a darker booth before looking back at him shyly.
“That one?” He asks, already moving.
“Yes please.” You say nicely, following him.
It's nice, you never sit in the booths because it's usually just you when you come here, but the seats are soft, and you can tell the velvety upholstery is clean and has recently been redone.
He slides into the seat opposite to you, his knees bumping yours for a second as he gets settled.
You giggle when they bump you again and he mutters an apology.
“Sorry, it's a little small,” you say, “And you're kind of… not.”
He laughs quietly.
“I'm okay, getting in was the hardest part, and it's not too bad.” You feel his legs extend out on either side of yours, taking up space to get comfortable. 
You can feel your heart beating forcefully as you watch him scan the little paper menu that had been placed on the table before you'd been seated. Finding difficulty in figuring out why exactly he'd taken an interest in you.
“S-so,” you murmur, getting his attention, “You didn't have the coat cleaned?”
His eyes darken, a smile pulling on his lips as he recounts the memory in his head.
“I was curious. I'd deleted the video of you taking it- didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble for you- plus I know that omegas occasionally do things on instinct- so when I got it back, wrapped so tightly, I was… just wondering about you a little.”
You swallow nervously.
“And then?”
You feel the molten heat in his gaze as his eyes roam over you.
“And then I smelled the most delicious scent. It made me desperate, made me lose control of my own thoughts for a couple of minutes. The smell of your heat was wonderful, omega. I knew I had to find you.”
You open your mouth to respond, but your eyes catch movement of a waitress coming your way.
“Hello, my name is Teresa, I'll be your waitress this evening. Are you ready to order?” She rushes out, smiling politely though you notice that her eyes linger on William for a few moments more.
“We're not ready to order yet,” he says, eyes still locked on you, “Can you come back in five minutes?” 
She nods easily, stepping away with a ‘sure thing.’
There's a beat of silence, where you stare down at your menu and read none of the words, head racing with what you know.
“What are you thinking about getting?”
You blink, glancing up at him and then back down to the menu.
“Um, I usually get the turkey on rye, so maybe that.”
“Got any suggestions for me?”
You hum, deep in thought.
“The grilled chicken pesto always smells so delicious, there's some fresh mozzarella in it too. I've never had it, but it's a popular one.”
“You should try it. Mix things up.”
You smile sadly, glancing at the price of the sandwich in question, the fresh mozzarella near triples the price.
“That's okay, I'll stick with my turkey.”
“Don't worry about anything else. If you really want the pesto, get it.”
His eyes are earnest, and you know there's another conversation happening in the subtext of this one. That he was willing to cover the cost, that it was obvious that it was the source of your hesitation.
You swallow, glancing down at the price once again, figuring that one sandwich wouldn't throw him into debt.
A little lump swells in your throat, you wonder if he would expect anything because of this like alphas before. You figure one sandwich did not give him that much leverage over you. You'd done more damage with his coat and he'd overlooked that.
“Okay, I'll have it. What will you get?”
“Steak sandwich.” He answers, with a smile, just as Teresa appears again.
“Ready?” She asks eagerly.
.
“Why did you pick this table?” He asks, studying you.
You glance over at him, having been distracted by some people walking in.
You're beautiful, he squeezes his fists, fighting himself. He wants to provide for you so badly that it tears at him. He can see how defensive you are, how cautious you act sometimes. He knows that you must have had bad encounters with Alphas to be this wary. He wants to learn you, know you better than he knows himself.
“I have a little sensitivity to light.” You respond, absentmindedly, “I can barely see in direct sunlight.”
He inclines his head, noting for later, to avoid anything that would overwhelm you.
“I'm sorry to hear that, sweetheart, it must be so hard to deal with.”
He feels delight fill his body as you give him a wide eyed look, your omega nature appreciating his sympathy to your plights. 
He bites the inside corner of his lip, wanting this sweet, timid omega to be his, very badly.
The urge to have you scent him sharpens, to press your nose to his neck, to have you breathe him in, mix your scents together so that no one would question whether or not you were a mated pair. You'd almost done it earlier, and he hadn't realized how eager he was for it until the moment you'd pulled away.
He had to play his cards right. If he scared you away, he would not get another chance.
.
You talk a lot, about where you grew up, and the schools you went to, and when he tells you about his childhood, you try not to give him any looks of pity, nodding along, eager to listen to everything he has to tell you.
You want to comfort him though, your hands clenching into fists in your lap because you want to reach over and squeeze his hand and tell him you’re sorry but logically you know that you barely know him.
Except that you feel like you’ve known him a very long time. Your face hurts with the amount you’ve smiled, the unfamiliar expression printed onto your face, where you’re usually shy or frightened.
When he asks about you, you feel a little more comfortable revealing personal information. Describing the details of your job so that he understands your day to day work.
“Does it pay well?”
“You know it doesn't.” You grumble sadly, “I would take up a second job if I could, but companies have this rule about how many hours an omega is allowed to work weekly.” You stop talking, waiting to see what stance he was going to take on this. The entire job market was designed to push omegas into the arms of alphas or betas rich enough to take care of them. 
His mouth turns down into a frown.
“They should just pay people liveable wages to begin with. Having a second job would be too much for anyone. At least tell me you get health insurance.”
You make an unsure face.
“For the most part, but there are… big gaps.”
His eyebrows crush together in sympathy.
“You get heat days?”
You nod, taking a few sips of your drink.
“Yeah, they give us three, and I usually have to take two extra sick days because I have longer heats.”
“Wait, they don’t give you days specific to your heat requirements?”
You let out a little awkward laugh.
“No, three heat days, giving more days to some people would be unfair according to them.”
He clicks his tongue, “That must be so hard.” He hums, and something primal sparks inside of you.
Yes, your mind screamed at him, yes alpha, I’m a poor little thing, please soothe me and take care of me and keep me warm and safe and full-
You clear your throat.
“I get by.” You reply.
He shakes his head, deep in thought.
“It’s still not fair.”
.
You let out a slow sigh when you take your first bite of the sandwich.
Eyes closed, you can't believe what you're tasting, that it could be so delicious.
You do your hardest not to take a second bite before finishing the first, determined to savour it.
Across from you, he makes a low hum when he bites into his, and you fight a smile, stomach fluttering, happy that he likes it.
“Maybe you can find another job?” He suggests between bites.
You blink, shoulders dropping.
“I've been trying, it's just not that easy,” You look down at your sandwich, a touch of sadness fills your chest, “Sorry, I don’t mean to complain.”
“It's okay, I want to hear about it.”
You let out a harsh breath, your stomach turning over.
“Why? Because you smelled my heat and decided I was going to be your omega?” You blink, regretting the words as soon as they come out, drawing back into yourself and waiting for him to get angry.
“I'm sorry,” you say when he doesn't immediately speak, “I shouldn’t have- I'm sorry.” You take a shallow breath, feeling the panic grip you tightly.
“Don't apologize, sweetheart, you didn't do anything wrong.”
You don't meet his eyes, still trying to get control of your fears.
You hear movement, and in your peripherals, you watch him slide out of the booth and to a stand. Oh god, was he leaving? You feel your eyes begin to swell with tears. 
You'd done it, successfully chased him away.
Your breath stutters when his plated sandwich slides in beside yours, and finally, you glance up at him.
“May I?” He asks softly, and you automatically comply without thinking, sliding deeper into the booth to give him more space.
He fits himself in, while you grab a napkin to blot at your tears, a little embarrassed now that you realize he wasn't actually leaving.
“S-sorry.” You whisper, trying to apologize for this abundance of emotion. For sure, it would definitely annoy him.
Your breath stutters when you feel the warm press of his palm to your shoulder blade.
“Breathe, omega, everything's alright.”
You suck in a shaky breath, his scent wrapping around you.
He moves slowly in your peripheral, moving his hand to brush the backs of his fingers over your cheek.
You finally look at him when he touches you, the sensation leaving tingles behind.
“One more big breath for me.” He guides, and you obey, feeling your brain respond to his gentleness.
His eyes are warm, chocolate, a feeling of ease settles into the base of your spine.
“When I smelled you on my coat for the first time, I knew I had to find you. But, finally meeting you, and slowly getting to know you, is what makes me want to stay. You're not my omega, and I'm not your alpha… But I'd like to be.”
My alpha?
Your lips part in disbelief, looking into his eyes, feeling hope swell inside of you.
Maybe he would make a good alpha, maybe he would hold you when you were scared, and kiss your cheek every night before falling asleep, maybe he would hold you tightly and talk to you after sex, and not make you feel like a used item to be discarded-
You shudder out a breath.
“I-I'm not interested in finding an alpha right now.” You stutter out, afraid of his response. 
His eyes remain kind, though there's something in them that makes you think that he's sad.
“I understand, sweetheart. I won't bring it up again.” He turns, bringing his sandwich up to his mouth to take another bite.
You follow his lead with wide eyes, surprised that this was all he had to say on the subject.
After a few bites, shoulder brushing his arm every now and again, you can't hold back.
“You're not… mad?”
You hear him exhale slowly.
“I don't think I could ever be mad at you, little one. I like you a lot, and I'm willing to… be as patient as you need me to be.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest.
“And what if it never happens? I don't want to give you false hope.”
To your surprise, he laughs, low and sweet. It brings a smile to your face though you don't know the joke.
“I'm going to have hope whether I want to or not. That's the consequence of wanting.”
Want.
“You want… me?”
“I thought that was obvious.”
“Well, yes, I guess it was, but…” You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head, “I'm sorry, this is so crazy.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why is it crazy?”
“Bec-” You couldn’t say it out loud.
He turns to you, studying you intently for a moment.
“I mean, well, look at me.” You say softly.
He raises his eyebrows.
“You're lovely.” He murmurs.
You can't help the shy smile that it brings to your face.
.
To no one's surprise, he pays.
You let him, because you were in no position to offer any kind of payment, and he was willing to lose a three thousand dollar coat on a whim. 
When he offers you a ride home, you feel comfortable enough with him to accept, looping your arm around his bicep when he extends his elbow for you to take.
The muscle below is firm, and you simmer with delight at the privilege he gives you.
You look around as you walk together, taking in the scenery around, watching as someone throws a frisbee, and a dalmatian runs to catch it.
“I take it you don’t like me, then.” He says, interrupting your thoughts.
“I do.” You blurt so quickly that your brain doesn’t have time to catch up. There’s something aching in your chest at the thought that he was unlikeable to you.
You take a deep breath, smiling sadly.
“That’s the problem. I like you, and that will cloud my judgement. My past experience has made following my heart almost impossible… and alphas…” You swallow, “Alphas can be scary, and they flip so suddenly sometimes,” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “It's dangerous to trust an alpha.”
“It hurts me to hear you say that.” 
“I'm sorry.” 
“I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry, and angry that you've had so many bad experiences with alphas. I'm sorry that they made you feel unsafe. I know it doesn't hold much weight right now, but I'd never hurt you.”
You're almost inclined to believe him.
“I guess we'll see.” You say, giving him a meaningful look.
He grins down at you.
“I like the sound of that.”
.
His car is heavy with his scent. You close your eyes, heart racing, breathing in deep lungfuls, feeling your brain go hazy with it.
Your skin gets hypersensitive, the feel of his leather seats brushing your thighs, the way it feels on your fingertips, makes you drunk in a way you've never felt before.
You don't give him your real address, but one that's a block over so that he doesn't see the hovel you really live in. 
It's hard to focus on anything outside of the vehicle, when his engine purrs to life and the sound vibrates your eardrums gently, he makes sure you're buckled in, before starting off.
He doesn't race, takes his time, moves reasonably. It makes you feel safe, settles you. You'd been a little worried he was an aggressive driver, but you had nothing to worry about.
You blink in surprise when he extends his phone to you, unlocked, his hands catching your eye, a work of art you could stare at for hours.
“Pick some music?” He offers.
You nod, fingers brushing his, and you select something soothing, lo-fi, to enjoy.
You get hypnotised by it, the bergamot and notes of citrus, cracked pepper that makes you hum, delighted. If this was what being in his presence was always like, how would you ever leave?
You wanted to press your nose to his neck, breathe him in right from the source, you wanted this scent soaked into your pores until it followed you everywhere. You wanted this smell in your nest, clinging to your things.
You're so needy by the time he pulls over, eyes glassy with want, you notice his hands are gripping his steering tightly.
“Omega,” he says, a slight tremble to his voice, “Do you want to scent me? It'll help you relax.” 
It wouldn't. You knew it from the bottom of your heart, scenting him would only make you want him more. But your hindbrain's in control now, and all you do is nod shakily, fumbling to unbuckle your seat belt.
He covers your hands calmly, doing it for you when you struggle too many times. You look at him shyly when you're both free.
He gives you a warm smile, before tilting his head up, exposing his gland to you.
Your heart pounds in your ears, a thrumming that fills your head, almost too loud as you lean forward, pressing your face to his neck.
He groans, and you reach to fist his shirt tightly in your hands, taking in a deep breath.
This was your alpha, there was no denying it, no other scent had ever took hold of you the way his did, everything else was rotten in comparison, and you were losing grip of your sanity with each passing moment.
You breathe him in, memorizing it, the extra kick, straight from the source, your hindbrain takes full control in these moments, and you're completely helpless to it.
“Alpha.” You sigh into his neck, and you feel him shudder beneath you.
You tilt your head up, lips brushing his gland, he groans loudly, the sound echoing in your ears, drowning out the thrumming of your heart for just a moment.
“That's it, omega," He guides, "Take what you need.”
You whine, if you really took what you needed, he'd already be at home in your nest, ready to make you his.
You tilt your head higher, and he turns to look at you with heated eyes, your noses brush in the quiet of his car.
Someone walking past catches in your peripheral, and you gasp, reeling back, realising where you were.
“S- sorry.” You say, scrambling away, reaching to unlock the door, stepping out and bolting as fast as your legs can carry you, too afraid to look back at him.
It takes you three orgasms in your bed before you begin thinking again.
.
.
.
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preqwells · 7 months ago
Text
cw: 18+, afab, fingering, p in v, read part 1 of mechanic konig here
mechanic! konig would definitely become clingy after what you thought was your one-night stand.
staying true to his word, your new lovely mechanic named könig followed through with teaching you the basics of a car. how to check the dipstick that was in your oil tank so you'd know when you needed an oil change, checking the tire pressure so you didn't find yourself in a situation you didn't want to end up in-- he was thorough, diligent-- he found himself caring more than usual as he explained these things to you. "so, when it gets to this mark?" you softly inquired, pressing your fingernail to the mark you assumed he had pointed to. "no, maus-- here. if you base it off where you just pointed, well… good luck." he mumbled, a tinge of amusement in his tone. he kept his thick digit on the dipstick, slick oil making his index finger glisten under the sun. you attempted to train your brain to think of anything but what it wanted to think, honestly. you let out another sheepish chuckle, nodding obediently at any pointers he was kind enough to give you.
call it luck or fate, but könig didn't have the serpentine belt you so desperately needed to have installed in your car to get to work tomorrow. könig felt a hint of excitement-- this meant you needed a ride home, right? könig was kind enough to offer you a ride… well, an actual ride which you vehemently refused at first. you had never been one to ask favors of others, certainly not a stranger you just met even if your conscience screamed at you to do otherwise. "i can't-- i can't cover any additional costs…" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes fell to the ground out of embarrassment. your helplessness was cute-- the pout that tugged at the fullness of your lips, your shy demeanor-- how had he gone so long without seeing such a sweetheart around town? "nein, it won't cut into what you already owe me. it'll be cheaper taking a ride from me than getting an uber, anyways." he insisted, catching onto the way you previously mentioned cutting back on expenses. you couldn't argue with him-- or more like, you didn't want to.
during the car ride home, könig would sneak glances at you-- whether it be at red lights or when he turned the corner. he couldn't help the way his eyes would roam your figure, and you even caught glimpses of his lingering gaze. you weren't stupid, and neither was he-- the tension was palpable, almost tangible. he guided you to your door, his hand splayed across the small of your back, thick digits bracing you. "um… well, thanks-- for everything." you quickly got out, wanting the interaction to be over so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself. everything felt so intimate-- the way he touched you, stole glances at you-- it felt out of character for you since you had only known him maybe for half the day. könig remained quiet for a moment, drinking in every reaction you had. your head tilted upward, looking up at him through your lashes as he kept your gaze. the atmosphere suddenly felt thick, intense. "no problem. couldn't let you go home without knowing you were safe." his voice dropped an octave, his head dipping lower to insert himself in your personal bubble. your breath hitched as you nodded, opening the door as his forearms leaned against the doorframe, the heavy tools on his belt exposing a sliver of skin along with a tuft of hair right above his groin.
"well… i'm safe." "are you?" "mhm." "how're you gonna get back to my shop tomorrow?"
your brain short-circuited at the heady mix of the bluntness of his words and his stature, your mouth slightly agape. he let out a low chuckle before his index finger found the belt loop of your pants, pulling you into his space. you mumbled out a weak 'i dunno'-- that answer wasn't good enough for him. "… i could stay the night… won't cut into what you already owe me, maus." he reiterated his earlier point, the boldness of his words coated in mirth. his face was brought closer to your own, his black lashes hanging low over his eyes. your hands found purchase on his biceps before his lips brushed against yours, putting a silence to any lingering tension from earlier as your eyes fluttered closed. he put every ounce of being into the kiss-- hell, he wished you could've broken your serpentine belt earlier if it meant a pretty thing like you could've stepped into his shop sooner than you did. he backed you into your apartment, his hand closing the door hurriedly. "fuck-- you just had to walk into my shop, didn't you?" he gruffed out between kisses, annoyed at the feeling of how quickly he already found himself half-hard.
you parted your lips to squeak out a half-hearted apology before könig used this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, coaxing a sweet moan from you which elicited a wicked grin from könig. könig led you into your bedroom, gently placing you at the head of the bed as his teeth nipped at every area of skin he could think of-- your neck, your collarbone, underneath your breast when he managed to get your shirt off. the whines and whimpers that escaped you only urged him to continue, didn't you know? stupid of you, really-- to think you weren't going to end the night with his fingers readying you to split you open on his heavy cock. his head lolled back when he did eventually find his length rubbing snugly against the slickness of your walls, your eyes blinking away tears from the initial stretch. he quickly caught wind of this as he halted his movements, arching down as his lips pressed against your cheek.
"s'okay, maus-- know i'm kind of a fit, eh? just tell me when it's okay to move." he cooed to which you quickly nodded, exhaling a sigh you didn't know you were holding. as you signaled for him to start moving, his thrusts were almost borderline calculated, precise-- you didn't seem to be complaining about it from the string of moans you were letting out, anyway. it didn't take long for his thrusts to grow sloppy, a mix of your wetness and the sound of skin slapping together filling the room. the way you keened, your brows knitted so closely together from pleasure, your lips swollen and red from the earlier make-out session-- yeah, this is where könig needed to be; buried deep into your drooling pussy.
the night came to an end as did your time with könig-- hell, you could barely remember falling asleep. you went to sleep with the thought that you'd wake up to an empty bed, trying to conjure ways for it not to be so awkward when you did eventually go to pick up a car. you'd never really had a one-night stand before-- how do you even face someone who was practically balls-deep in you the night before? what you didn't expect when morning came was the soft kisses that rained upon your cheek, waking you out of a well-deserved sleep. your eyes slowly opened, scanning the room and taking in the sight of yourself under the covers. you were… clean? no traces of stickiness between your legs, no sweat sticking to your skin. your head turned to the side to be greeted with the sight of könig with bed-head, his hair twisted in every way imaginable. your eyebrows furrowed together out of confusion-- you were fully expecting him to leave. könig caught on quickly to your confusion, his elbow propped up on the mattress as his palm rested on the side of his cheek. he returned your look of confusion as if daring you to say something.
"what? we have to go pick up your car today, don't we?"
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corroded-hellfire · 3 months ago
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This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?
With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"
Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?
Words: 2.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”
As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.
“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 
He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.
Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.
“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”
Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.
“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 
“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.
“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.
“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”
The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.
“It’s midlife,” she says. 
“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”
The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.
“She loves my Daddy.”
“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”
“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.
“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.
“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 
Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 
“But she loves me,” Luke says.
The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.
“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 
Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.
“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”
“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.
“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”
The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.
“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”
Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 
Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 
“That is enough!”
“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 
“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”
“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”
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The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 
Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 
“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 
Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 
“Luke got in a fight.”
“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.
Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.
“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”
If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”
Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 
“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 
“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 
Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 
Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.
It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, you.”
He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 
His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 
“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 
There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 
A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”
Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 
“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”
He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.
“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 
You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 
“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 
“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 
“About what?”
His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 
“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”
“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”
The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.
“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”
“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles. 
“Well…then he’s stupid.”
Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 
“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”
The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.
“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”
“Even after?” Luke asks.
“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.
Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”
“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.
His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 
“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”
You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.
“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”
“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”
He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 
You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 
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