#and then probably remark on how good I am for not being Like That

[hysteriasgarden]

*sobbing about how maybe my parents aren't that bad and I'm overdramatic and stupid and should just suck it up because really they didn't do anything terrible*

people online: Horrid Henry's parents are awfully abusive and they're the worst parents in cartoon media, they're bad parents

me:

[b4kuch1n]

one string is all that I need

[crepezinhos]

POV: They heard you talking dirty about them

He just wanted to help you unpack and place the things you had brought to your new home, but instead, met you telling to another friend in the kitchen, who was helping too, how you would easily let him fuck you after being so kind and helpful to you, and that you had a growing crush on him. He stood there for some good minutes, clueless about what he should do now, before deciding to simply continue his job there and never tell you that he heard what you said about him.

It did not work, in fact, it worsened. Now that he knew about such private secrets of a person he crushed on, he couldn’t interact with you for more than a minute before his own intrusive, pornographic thoughts about you and the things you said made his cheeks glow bright red. Of course you noticed the sudden change in behavior and went to talk to him about it, thinking that he was mad at you, and it took you five variantions of “What’s wrong?” before he finally turned to you and vomited everything out, not only the incident but also his feelings towards you. Now you two couldn’t stand each other’s presence and wanted to simply walk away in opposite directions like that moment never happened, but you had to apologize to him and he had a confession to make.

“So, hum… arewegonnadoanythingaboutit..?” He asked as quick and low as he could, really afraid of your rejection, although he had in mind you two shared the same kind of feelings to each other.

Itto, Xiao, Gorou

You and him have always had a very platonic relationship, even if you weren’t somehow brothers or emotionally connected, which always made your friends wonder if any of you crushed on each other. Now, as you and two of your common friends waited for him and the rest of guests to arrive at the private party in a bar, they decided to pull the topic up, but the slight effects of the few sips of alcohol you drank made you all of you turn into sex pests in minutes. Now there you were, describing how you would probably choke on his ‘fat cock’ as he called you a ‘good girl’ alongside with noises of you pretending to suck and choke on him as your friends cackled to death and him behind the door of the room with his beer in hands, trying to wait for a perfect moment to barge in and scare everyone.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he isn’t malicious, but it would be so fun to play with your innocence and see your face of realization when you found out that he heard that conversation. His plan of slowly giving you hints started in that same party by making slight remarks on the fact that he had been waiting behind that door for some long minutes to make his arrival scary, but you didn’t get that, or any other hint at all. After almost a week wishing for his plan to work while he lusted for intimacy with you, as you walked together to his apartment in the building, he finally decided to give the most obvious hint ever of it, by telling you a story of how ‘he heard 3 girls talk about how one of them liked this another friend in common and how they talked about many weird topics such as oral sex in a very loud tone’. You froze in place, realizing that all random, contextless remarks of him were referencing to that moment, and now it was your turn to talk since he finalized his story asking your opinion about it. He kept smirking the entire time, and the more embarrassed you seemed, the bigger his smirk was. You started apologizing in a state of panic, trying your best not to scream while you waved your hands and head and telling that it was just a joke and that it shouldn’t be serious at all, but he knows you’re just embarrassed and watched the whole scene quietly.

“Really..? Dang it… I was really getting so interested in the girl doing the ‘gulp gulp’ noises. Pfft… haha..! I’m just kidding, Y/N, I’m not offended by that at all, in fact I am actually delighted… Wanna come in and solve this matter like two adults?” He flirts while walking up to you and pulling out the keys to his apartment since you two were already at his door.

Kaeya, Kazuha Zhongli, Ayato, Thoma, Sethos, Wriothesley

Don’t ask why, but he really just wanted to make a surprise in your birthday, knowing that you were probably going to react the way he wanted you yo. He sneaked into your dorm with some others friends in common when you texted them you’d be home in five minutes, and hid behind your sofa with his confetti popper and gift in hands, prepared to explode it. He and everyone else kept very quiet when he heard you arriving, but he wasn’t expecting to hear another friend of yours coming in too. That person want involved in the prank at all, and since he was the leader of that surprise, he whispered commands to everyone, making everyone get back at their spots. Unexpectedly, the topic of the conversation changed into him and what you liked most about him. You initially described he was a very nice person and that you thought he dressed well, but surprisingly, you decided to specifically tell about how his eyes were sexy and always caught your attention. Your friend, interested in what she heard, kept the conversation going by spicing it, and the next thing you said was how making eye contact with him during sex would make your orgasm come faster. Everyone’s jaw was dropped, although they recognized your tone was ironic, including you after they revealed themselves very suddenly.

After that moment of shock and happiness, the first thing he did was walk up to you when he saw you lonely with his arms crossed in much confidence, who and self-stern.

“Wow… between all the parts in my body that could make you cum faster, what turns you on are my eyes?! Such a lame answer… I was expecting more, I must say.” He joked as he stood beside you and leaned against the wall, which made you finally panic in embarrassment as you apologized non-stop.

He would never ever tell anyone that he had to hide a slight, increasing boner in his pants during that entire surprise party.

Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Heizou, Cyno

It was midnight and he was trying to sleep, but he kept failing since the noises coming from all the girls in your dorm didn’t allow him to relax. You were doing a girl’s night in your dorm, a silly sleepover, and he was hating every bit of it as he switched his position for the hundredth time. But as soon as he heard one of your many visitors mention him and ask you about him, his eyes opened. He might be a frank, honest, cold soul, but come on… who doesn’t like to at least know what other people thought of you?

Well, since everyone except you, thought of him as a weird, rude, creepy man… they started making questions about how would he possibly fuck a pussy. The majority of girls thought he would need lessons before doing it, some thought that he was just an average fucker, but some few, including you, thought he might actually be good at it. Most girls didn’t understand why, so you described how you thought he probably has some sort of weird kink that most people don’t like, so he has to hide it, but might’ve actually made many girls see heaven. Then… you started to scene a weird role-play sex scenario of a tutor and his student by asking easy math questions, like he was the one saying it, then tuning your voice to a girly one answer the question, which made you suddenly clap your hands and go back to the manly voice to say ‘Wrong!’ and some punishment orders, making all your friends cackle like a group of hyenas.

“Ew.” That was all he thought.

He was so shocked and disgusted with the absurdity of the conversation that he decided to get up and go to your door to ask for a better silence. Luckily, you were the one to answer it, and as he described that he couldn’t sleep because of the volume, he mentioned that he could hear every single word coming out of everyone’s mouth through those thin walls, which obviously made you internally worried. After that, all he mostly heard was some dirty jokes about ‘punishing Y/N in bed after disturbing the hot nerd’s sleep’ and giggles, then silence took in. He sighed as he laid down again and closed his eyes, knowing that his attempts to sleep would better, but now… his mind was the problem. Those suggestions of role-play sex between him as a tutor, and you as a mere student was keeping his mind more awake than before. Slapping your buttocks whenever you got a wrong answer doesn’t seem like a bad idea to make someone as stupid as you focus, but then he gives up on that excitement because he’s the kind of person who’ll try his best to do it only with someone who truly deserves it and despises kinks.

But why is his mind filling him with the most pornographic imagery of you ever..? He can even feel his tip slightly touching the sheets, like his mind is keeping him awake to get rid of that need for sex… but he’ll never ever reduce himself to those animalistic thoughts.

“God, no, why am I even thinking about this kind of stuff..?!” He asked to himself, switching his position in the bed for the fifth time.

Maybe he doesn’t hate kinks, he has never tried one anyways, but his ego doesn’t want to live with the fact that for once in your life, you predicted something correctly about him despite his intelligence and awareness of intimacy or identity.

Diluc, Wanderer, Albedo, Tighnari, Neuvillette, Al Haitham

Taglist: @alatusorrow @kindofshyent @kindofscenic @the-stinky-winky

(More silly thoughts cuz why not 🙏)

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 1 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Your ex-boyfriend gives you his dealers number, but you don’t expect for him to be so fine. And you certainly don’t expect him to be so goddamn flirty. (3.4k)

WARNINGS: descriptions and dealings of recreational drugs (weed), little bit of swearing, slight sexual themes and lots of shameless flirting. THIS IS A MODERN AU!!

A/N: the first part is here and I’m so excited!! Im still unsure how many parts this is going to be, but there’s a lot I want to happen in this series so probably (I’m guessing!!) six or seven, but we’ll see!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Your patience was wearing thin. Very fucking thin. Those three grey dots mocked you as they bubbled at the bottom of the screen—disappearing and reappearing again—until they were replaced with another less than satisfying message.

Brandon: are you taking the piss? Why didn’t you just ask when you were here earlier?

You scanned the message over, swallowing back the groan at the idea of another potential argument. You needed to nip his attitude in the bud, you weren’t entertaining his bullshit anymore. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, your fingers quickly typed a response.

You: I didn’t realise I was out until I got home. Can you get any or not? Just lmk

The dots appeared again after a few moments of silence, and you prepared yourself for the snarky remark he was most likely to give you, and took a deep breath to compose yourself in advance.

Brandon: no. I can’t get you any. Sort it out yourself for once.

There was no way in Hell you were going to let your frustrations show. Despite the pure anger and annoyance that began to bubble even more within you.

Brandon could be a lot of things. A liar. A cheat. And a fucking asshole. In all honestly, the only thing he was truly good for was the occasional above par fuck and the fact that his dealer had the best weed you’d ever smoked.

But when they were the only two good things he had going for him, it was hard to justify the disgusting behaviour he showed throughout almost your entire relationship. You broke up every few weeks as it was, but if you’d known about the cheating before, you would’ve left for good sooner.

Instead, you found out a year and half into the relationship, coming to the deafening conclusion that he had, in fact, never been faithful for a single moment of his adult life.

Fuck him. And fuck his shit sex. The weed, you could get yourself.

You: lmao ok. What’s his number?

A heartbeat after he read the text, he was calling you. And the moment you answered the call, he was his usual, un-charming self.

“What the fuck do you mean what’s his number?”

“Hello to you, too.” You murmured, tucking yourself under the blanket on your couch.

His clipped tone didn’t startle you, didn’t worry you about any form of consequences. He wasn’t scary, even when he tried to be. He was just a douche.

“What do you mean what’s his number?” He repeated himself, that agitation growing thicker and thicker with every word he spoke.

“How else am I supposed to get any?”

“Find your own dealer.”

He was being bitter now, pathetically so. You picked at the aged edges of your book, a novel you’d read five times over but one you couldn’t get enough of. Your love for it could be seen by the fading print of the front cover and the severely broken spine—despite how careful you tried to be with your readings.

“Brandon, I’m not going to find a random dealer. Your Azriel guy has good stuff and I know it’s safe. Besides, me going to the same person as you is not going to affect you in any way.”

He was silent for a moment, mulling over your words. Despite his dreadful personality and lack of love and care and compassion, he knew how little you knew about marijuana. He was the one that taught you to roll, after all.

You’d barely smoked before you met him, and on the rare occasions you did get high, it was usually in the form of gummy edibles your friends had. And you weren’t addicted or reliant on it in any way. You just enjoyed a smoke every now and then if you’d had a long day.

Alcohol had never been your favourite, and you much preferred to feel the chilled buzz from a joint than cradle a hangover for two days after a soirée.

“Fine. I’ll text you his number. Say Marco gave it to you, it’s a code he made up—had cops on him a while ago. He can be a bit of an ass, don’t let him shit talk you. Ask for a 3.5, he usually charges 40 for it. It’ll last you a couple weeks unless you’re planning on smoking heavy.”

It was easy to be pulled back in when he was like that. When he did the bare minimum of offering advice on things he knew you weren’t too sure on. But you were better than that now, smarter. You weren’t going to fall back into your old ways again.

Not with him. Not with anyone.

“I’m not. Thank you.”

The line went dead as soon as the words left your mouth and a few moments later, he texted you Azriel’s number. You would’ve appreciated a reminder of what you were supposed to ask for but at least you got his number. Small wins. You weren’t his responsibility anymore.

It took you a few minutes to figure out what to say, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed and erased, typed and erased. Until you settled on ‘Is this Azriel?’ and finally sent the message.

Ten minutes passed and you didn’t get a response. Your nose was tucked back into your romance novel as you chewed on the drawstring of your hoodie. In all honesty, you could’ve quite easily slipped into a peaceful slumber under the warm golden glow of your lamps.

That was another thing Brandon couldn’t respect. Your No Main Light rule. The vibes were always immaculate with gentle warmth from lamps. The main light was not allowed on under any circumstances. You much preferred the cosy feeling of golden hues that accentuated the deep green leaves of your plants and vines that scattered the walls and crevices of your home.

Your phone chimed from your lap, a small surge of anxiety pulsing in your chest. You unlocked the screen and read over the message.

Azriel: depends who’s asking.

Ah, Brandon did warn you. You considered fucking the whole idea off. Maybe cracking open a bottle of wine and snuggling on the couch with a book or tv show would be better than having to meet this asshole, but the bottle of White Zinfandel wouldn’t give you the mellow buzz you wanted.

Not unless you had at least four glasses which was usually paired with a hangover the next day. Something you did not want to entertain. So, you bit the bullet and typed your reply.

You: y/n, got your number from Marco. You about?

The more you let your mind wander, the more you realised how little you knew. You had no clue how this sort of thing worked. Would he come to you? Your home? Would you meet at a location of his choice? Or would he just stash the weed somewhere for you to collect and you don't cross paths at all?

But the burning fire of the what-if anxiety was quickly trampled and extinguished when another text came through and instead of him deciding for you, you were given choices.

Azriel: sure, I can meet you at old tower in 20 if that’s good for you? If not I can drop to your location.

He didn’t seem as much of an ass now. No, quite the opposite. But you supposed that offer was something he probably gave to all new, female clients. If he truly was an ass or not, you couldn’t fault him for the consideration.

Old Tower was the old old watermill tucked slightly away in the centre of the city. It had been derelict for years, but due to its location—so close to all the necessities and right opposite the police station—no one ever tried to break in or set it alight like the many other derelict listed buildings had been in the past.

Even now, at almost midnight, that part of the city would still be bustling with city-natives and tourists alike. And you appreciated the safe and public meeting spot he suggested.

You: old tower in 20 is fine.

As quickly as you sent the message, you received another reply. A text describing his blue Mustang and his licence plate. You shook the nerves off as soon as they came. Azriel was respectful and well known. He dealt to make his money and that was that.

But the facts didn’t stop you from sharing your location with Brandon just in case, nor did it stop you from double checking you still had your little pepper spray clipped to your keychain.

The walk to the Old Tower wasn’t a bad one. There were many ways you could access it, most of them leading you through the city, but here were a few that hid you behind back roads and alleyways—those were routes you never took. Not on your own and certainly not in the middle of the night.

The air was still a bit sticky from the summer heat, and while the denim shorts you wore kept your body cool, you were grateful you kept on your hoodie—just that extra layer that protected your arms and shoulders from the chill of the breeze that your legs never seemed to experience.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the Old Tower, and it took even less time to spot the electric blue 2022 Ford Mustang. Small tufts of white smoke emitted from the exhaust as it sat in its standstill, headlights facing the opposite direction of what you came in, but you could still hear the engine humming from your short distance away.

You double checked the licence plate to the number Azriel texted you, and slowly made your way closer. While you didn’t know much about drop offs, deals, and weed in general, you did know the unspoken rules of picking up. And if you were picking up from someone in a vehicle, most people got inside for a few minutes before leaving.

Azriel must’ve noticed you from the rear view mirror because just as you approached the back of the car, the passenger door opened wide, inviting you in. You sucked in a breath but accepted the invitation, keeping your eyes forward as you settled into the warmth of the leather seat and closed the door shut.

You finally let your body shift and your eyes met his. And you were fucking done for.

You’d never seen a man so strikingly fucking beautiful before. He was tall, lean and muscular and oozed pure sex and charisma. Tan, golden skin and dark, luscious hair that swept loosely down his forehead and curled gently around the tops of his ears.

His face was chiselled not too sharply, a subtle gentleness to the stark contrast of the cold, brooding aura he carried. And those eyes. Christ, those fucking eyes. Hazel iris’ that dripped with a golden hue of honey.

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and willed your lips to part so you could finally speak. “Thank you for meeting me so late.”

And Azriel was absolutely hooked.

When you’d texted barely thirty minutes ago, he did not expect to be meeting with someone so fucking gorgeous. Your soft hair was twisted in a loose braid that hung over your shoulder, wayward strands having fallen from the updo and framing your face mesmerizingly.

Your eyes were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen; rich in colour and wide with slight anxiety, despite the sleepiness he could slightly notice beneath them. Your voice sounded like a fever dream. It wasn’t sickly sweet like most women he knew or dealt to. Perhaps it was just the sleep, but there was a rasp—a very slight ruggedness—in your tone and Azriel was certain he’d never heard something quite so sensual in his life.

He cleared his throat, that all too cheeky grin teetering on the corners of his mouth. “I was already out,” he shrugged, nonchalantly. “How much are you after?”

His voice was a perfect blend of sweet and rough. A deep depth to his tone that skipped hand-in-hand with a sweeter note. God, he was unreal, and the sound of him had you forgetting entirely what exactly Brandon told you to ask for.

You pulled your lips between your teeth and offered a very sheepish—but mostly embarrassed—smile. “Um… I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologising for the second time tonight. “My ex used to do this part, so I have no idea how this works.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks at your own admission, couldn’t handle being the subject of his firm gaze, and you absolutely could not fucking handle the soft rumble of rich laughter that chuckled through him.

“Do you smoke a lot?” Azriel finally asked, a slightly amused smile on those full lips of his. His pink tongue swiped out to wet them and your heart thundered against your ribcage at the sight.

“Not really,” you cleared your throat. “Just every now and then. Semi-regularly, I guess.” There was no such thing as semi-regularly when it came to drugs and alcohol. To someone’s own self, sure. But not the general mass that consumed whatever it was they did.

Some considered three joints a day ‘semi-regular’, while others considered it as a joint every few days. Azriel had a feeling you were the latter, but he didn’t say anything about his thoughts or what you’d said.

Instead, he hummed and chewed at the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t laughing at you or your lack of knowledge or understanding. Usually, he’d have kicked a new client out of his car by now and told them to figure it out on their own—he was a dealer, not a fucking private tutor—but with you, he didn’t seem to mind explaining or breaking things down so it was easier to understand.

Neither of you quite understood why he was happy to explain, but you didn’t complain. You’d much prefer this than the alternative version of him that you’d been warned about.

“A 3.5 would probably be best for you, then.” He decided.

Yes, a 3.5… that sounded very familiar. You nodded, slowly, considering your next words carefully. You had already disclosed the most embarrassing part of not having a fucking clue how this worked, one more probably wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous,” you chuckled nervously, scratching at the nape of your neck. “But can you break that down in joint terms?”

Azriel laughed again, softer this time, through a breath. It was odd, really. He wasn’t laughing to be cruel or to embarrass you further. It seemed to you that perhaps he found it endearing—your innocence on the matter—and maybe, just maybe, you reminded him of himself when he too at one point, had no idea either.

“It depends on how strong you have them. Do you smoke blunts or just joints?”

Your eyes widened animatedly. “God, no. Just joints. I think a blunt might wipe me out.”

A glint of warmth and light fluttered through his eyes for a split second. “So, a 3.5 would get you like seven joints.”

“Yeah, that would last me like a week, two weeks.” You nodded. “I’ll have a 3.5 then, thank you.”

Azriel hummed in agreement, and it was only when he reached for the centre console and flipped open a compartment that you saw his hands. His golden skin was marred beyond belief, etched in burns and an array of pigmented colours. Your stomach lurched at the sight. Not from fear or pity or disgust, no. Your stomach twisted in agony, your brain couldn’t comprehend a reason for scars like that.

You looked away as quickly as you clocked them, not wanting to stare and not wanting him to notice. You supposed he was used to lingering gazes, but you would not be a name added to that list of people.

Azriel did nothing but make you feel comfortable in the brief few minutes of meeting one another. He was kind enough to not laugh in your face and kick you out of his car after your admittance. You were not about to make him feel uncomfortable either.

He pulled out a small plastic baggie stuffed to the brim with forest green nuggets and handed it to you between two scarred, pinched fingers. You took it gratefully, a full and genuine smile on your lips now as you thanked him, reaching into the back pocket of your denim shorts for the cash.

“Did you want me to roll them for you, too?” Azriel’s teasing voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes snapped to him with a stern look. “‘Cause that’ll cost you extra.”

“I know how to roll, thank you.” You bit back, and while your voice and tone held all the conviction, the amused glint in your eye and the corners of your mouth told him he hadn’t offended you in the slightest.

“It’s twenty-five.” Azriel chuckled from beside you.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled out two twenty’s, meeting his gaze again. “Isn’t it usually like forty?”

The air now smelt of that tangy, vile scent, something that you don’t think you’d ever get used to. Or enjoy. He shrugged, flipping down the lid of the compartment between you. “You’re a new client.”

You raised a brow now, a taunting smirk creeping at the corner of your mouth. “Do you always undercharge new clients, then?”

Azriel liked you. Very much. You didn’t shy away or hide your personality from him, even after only knowing one another for barely an hour in total. He had a feeling he was barely scraping the surface.

He matched your stare, only he wasn't teasing. “Only the pretty ones.”

There was no hiding the heat that crawled up your neck and sat heavy on your cheeks. It had been a long while since you received a genuine compliment. Let alone one so forward and from someone so unexpected. You averted your gaze from him, looking at the two twenty’s in your hand. Raising them, you pursed your lips.

“I only have two twenty’s on me. So you may as well take the full forty.”

Azriel didn’t listen. Instead, he pinched one note from your hand, his skin brushing yours but you didn’t falter, didn’t shy away. He was warm, and despite the scars and marred skin, his skin was softer than you expected.

You huffed, not ungrateful for the discount but this was his livelihood and taking away from that felt wrong to you.

“Let me know when you’re out.”

You smiled appreciatively and nodded, stuffing the bag and cash into your hoodie pocket and reaching for the door handle. “I will. Nice to meet you, Azriel.”

He watched you climbed out of the car, offering another warm smile as the cooler evening air kissed at his skin. He wanted to ask how you were getting home, if you’d be walking alone or if you needed a ride. But Azriel couldn’t cross those lines, especially not with someone he only just met.

So he bit his tongue and prayed to the Mother above to get you home safely. “You too, Y/N.”

He started up the engine again as soon as the door closed, but he didn’t drive away. He watched you through the rear view mirror until you were out of sight and when he finally looked down, he found his jeans tight around his crotch and a painful erection.

“Fuck.”

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If you enjoyed it, please give it a like and reblog and let me know what you thought!! Thank you for reading <3

Smoke & Light ONLY Tags

@smalljasper289 / @sttvrdustt

Azriel Tags

@serxndipity-ipity-blog / @erencvlt / @azswife / @lili-of-the-wildfire / @dreaming-unafraid / @dr4g0ngirl / @coconut-dreamz

[fresalana]

you told me your new man don't make you nut that's a damn shame.

synopsis: showing caitlin what it feels like to feel.

warnings: referring to c*nnor, sex. idk how to write warnings.

type: long blurb?

a/n: new tag. first time writing smut. i hope y'all missed me, because i missed y'all.

you knew caitlin wasn't cumming the way she deserved to. c*nnor was definitely not making that happen. she was constantly working hard, giving but never receiving. you wanted to help your friend relax; you wanted to her show her what it was like to feel. you wanted her to understand that dick wasn't the only thing that could make a woman cum. not that she was getting any real dick, anyway.

caitlin's back arched involuntarily off of the bed, a whimper leaving her lips as her hands gripped the bedding tightly – she was going to rip holes in it if she continued gripping it any harder.

"i feel like i'm gonna die, please," caitlin whispered, the desperation in her voice evident as she looked down at you, pleading with you to do something.

"you're not gonna die." you replied, rolling your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. she had squirted at least eight times on the towel beneath her. your fingers were deep inside her pussy, massaging her g-spot, forcing her to cum again and again. your thumb was rubbing her aching clit.

she knew she wasn't going to die, but you were driving her so insane that it felt like she was. "i feel like i am," caitlin whined quietly, her body shaking slightly, her head falling back against a pillow.

you leaned down, kissing her aching clit. "again, you're not gonna die, cait" with your voice muffled against her wet pussy, you licked a stripe up her clit, causing her hips to chase after your mouth. your teasing and condescending remarks were driving caitlin insane – and it wasn't the good kind of insane.

"yes i am," caitlin whimpered, shaking her head. "please, oh my god," and even caitlin could admit that she was being totallydramatic.

"all you can say is please." you scoffed, pumping your fingers into and out of her pussy at a rapid, steady pace with a wet plap! the fact that you had so much power over caitlin was irritating, she'd never admit that. she would never tell you, but there was a certain level of irritation when she was so desperate for something only you could give her.

"mmm," caitlin whined in response, her back arching and hips bucking into your hand, her head falling back against the pillow. "i - i can't, please please-"

"can't what?"

caitlin had no idea what she was even capable of saying and doing at this point, the only thing she was thinking about was what you could do to her. she had completely lost control of her body and was completely at your mercy, and it was killing her.

"i can't take it, i - i really can't," caitlin's words were cut off bay a whine, her hands still gripping the bedding on the bed.

"you want me to stop?"

there were many things caitlin wanted to say and do – but she was too busy feeling the pleasure and overstimulation that you were giving her, which made it difficult to form sentences.

"no, no, keep going, don't stop – oh please -"

"you don't even know what you're saying." you sighed, massaging her g-spot faster.

"your boyfriend ever make you cum before? hm?" your words were, once again, incredibly annoying but arousing to caitlin, who really didn't want to think about c*nnor. being with you was nothing like the relationship she's in now.

"no, god, never," caitlin responded through a whimper, looking down at you. "never like this." your words were incredibly true, and they bothered caitlin; her boyfriend was nothing like you. with you she felt so much more comfortable, free to lay back and have north care for her without having to worry about anything.

"mhm. he probably didn't even fuck you. made you do alll the work. you don't have to do that here, baby. just lay here and "feel .." as you planted a gentle kiss on her stomach, you quickly moved your thumb in tight, fast circles over her clit.

"i love you," caitlin spoke quietly, her eyes shut tightly as she trembled, her back arching as she came again that night. safe to say she'd be coming back for more, and more, and more..

[kaiser1ns]

𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: in an attempt to win once again, rin is betrayed by his own children who seemed to love their mother more.

╹contents :: domestic life with rin, characters are 25 years old, FLUFF, the kids betrayed rin wopsie, personal headcanon is that when he grows up he tends to be more gentle but only for you tho <3

╹notes :: posting this and going into hibernation again , I am cooking up some fics and drabbles tho

Never in your life would you have guessed and expected that you would have a family not with anyone, but with Itoshi Rin. The sixteen year old boy who ignored your existence but always gave you his English notes. The boy who always listened to your complaining during breaks, that you are thirsty or hungry and when you left the classroom and came back there was always a strawberry milk with a chocolate cupcake on your desk.

The boy who is now your husband, a successful young footballer who at only 25 years of age has a lot of achievements — in career and personal paths of course. Winning another treble with his team, he had a break during the summertime where he could spend more time with you and the twins — Haruto and Hinata.

Rin had never thought he would be a good father, that he would be a father at all if he was being honest with himself. But the miracle happened and now there are two little nine-month-old babies waiting to be fed sitting in their high chairs.

You sit at the kitchen table, feeding Haruto and Hinata their breakfast while Rin sips his coffee, a soft smile adoring his now more matured face as he watches the three of you. He was smitten by how fast you adapted to parenthood because just twenty years ago you were kids playing house taking care of the many baby dolls you had and now the game came into life.

"He's trying to stand again," you say, glancing over at Haruto, who's attempting to pull himself up on the edge of his high chair.

Rin looks over at his son, who looks exactly like you, but can't get by without the genes and the visible lower eyelashes. "Hinata's been babbling non stop. I swear she probably got that from you." Setting his cup down wiping the mashed potatoes from his daughter's mouth. As for her, she is Rin's copy , as you sometimes tend to joke that Rin and Hinata look more like twins instead of her brother.

Rolling your eyes at his comment as Haruto took another spoon of the puree. "Well, it's good that she is trying to say her first words." Looking at your husband with this glint in your eyes that now spark and he just knows that this stare is up for no good. "But with you always staying quiet, I think, it will take her way more time to say the two syllables."

Rin raised an eyebrow. "Careful who you are challenging now." As the babies giggle and play with their food, you and him engage in a staring contest, each silently daring the other to back down.

"I bet Haruto will walk first," you declared confidently, eyeing the little boy as he was just playing with his food along with his sister. Rin scoffed, furrowing his brows as he crossed his arms. "Hinata will definitely beat him to it. She's already trying to stand on her own and talk."

Just then, amidst the 'fight' a glob of potato puree escapes Haruto's grasp and lands on Rin's shirt, much to your amusement and his dismay.

"See, even your son disagrees with you," you replied, unable to contain your laughter as you got a napkin to wipe the mess off your husband's shirt.

Rin's expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his annoyance. "Looks like Haruto is already making his own statements," he remarked, glancing down in an attempt to be angry at his son for throwing the mashed potatoes but he just couldn't. Not when he looked so cute, with his little baby eyes that were the same color as yours, it was really scary how each of you had a little copy of yourself.

"Maybe he's trying to tell us that he's ready for solid foods," You joked, reaching for another napkin to clean up the rest of the mess on your son's chair.

Rin shook his head, going to take a sip of his cold coffee, "Or maybe he's just following in his mother's steps to be a troublemaker." he teased, earning a playful swat on the arm from you making him nearly choke. "Oh, please! Just because I had detention twice in highschool doesn't mean anything."

"And why did you have detention?" That you didn't like to answer because he will again make fun of you for doing it when you were kids. "You know why, Rinnie."

He actually doesn't know because they didn't want the reputation of the school to be tarnished and kept it secret between the teachers and people involved.

"How lukewarm, and I wanted to show our kids who not to take an example from." Rin said, reaching out to tickle Haruto's chubby cheeks as if seeking his son's support in his quest for answers. A small smile playing on your lips despite your attempt to stay neutral. "Fine, fine. I may have... uh, taken matters into my own hands when some idiots decided to talk shit about you," you admitted shyly, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation.

Rin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You got detention for defending me?" he couldn't believe it, actually he can, sometimes you get aggressive, be it because of people who shit talk him, a video game, or the fact that your favorite flavor of ice cream was out of stock. "That's... You are actually insane."

For once you expected something romantic to come out of his mouth but having big expectations can only let you down. You didn't mind though, that was his way of showing his appreciation and apparently it was sarcasm with witty remarks. "Well, you know, I couldn't just stand by and let them bully you," you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning up Hinata's highchair now, trying to avoid further discussion on the topic. "At least they stopped messing around with you."

Rin reached over, gently lifting your chin with his finger to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Y/N," the tenderness in his voice and the love in his eyes told you enough. And you felt sixteen again when you got your first kiss. Leaning closer his nose touching yours, his lips barely brushing against yours , suddenly the babies started crying, interrupting the moment. With a soft sigh, you pulled away, smiling apologetically at Rin before rushing to attend to the crying babies. Rin glared at the twins for momentarily stealing his wife's attention. And he wonders, from where did they get to be so clingy?

Changed and cleaned, Haruto and Hinata played with their toys on the soft rug in the living room, as you and Rin sat on the couch, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation and not changing diapers or removing food from your clothes but instead watched Mickey Mouse Club House.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to Hinata, who was attempting to pull herself up using the fence of their playing crib. "Look, Rin, she's trying to stand!" Y/N exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice. Didn't Rin bet on Hinata being the first to talk? “Quick open your camera, if I don't have this moment recorded, I swear Itoshi!”

Rin quickly reached for his phone as you went inside the mini playground. "It's recording, calm down," he said, already tapping on the record button.

Hinata wobbled on her tiny legs, her little giggles with a gasp of surprise, she took her first uncertain steps, stumbling slightly before falling into Y/N's waiting arms.

Your heart swelled with joy as you hugged Hinata close. "You did it, sweetheart! You took your first steps!"

Meanwhile, Haruto, who had been watching his sister intently, seemed to be trying to do something. Suddenly, he blurted out, "Mama!"

You and your husband exchanged stunned glances, eyes wide with disbelief. "Did he just...?" Rin trailed off as he was trying to process everything.

"I think he did," you replied, voice trembling with emotion. Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you looked at Rin, Haruto crawling to you as you placed Hinata on your left.

Rin's expression mirrored yours as he stared at the children, phone still in his hand, "I can't believe it,”

“Me too… Our babies grew so fast, oh my I need to call both of our moms and tell them about this!”

“They prefer you instead of me...” As you reached for your phone, Rin pouted "I didn't know I had 3 babies instead of 2." His mock hurt expression made you burst into laughter.

Grinning, you teased, "Well, Haruto seems to be leaning towards Mama, but don't worry, I'm sure Hinata's first word will be Dada."

As if on cue, Hinata reached out towards Rin, her tiny fingers curling around his shirt sleeve. Rin's heart melted at the sight, and he scooped her up into his arms, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek. "Looks like she's already practicing saying 'Dada'," you said, unable to hide the happy tone in your voice. One thing was for sure that Hinata was daddy's girl and you will practice saying da-da just for Rin to have his moment of glory.

“Do you want to go to call Isagi and brag about our kids?"

"Absolutely.”

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[mygnolia]

A HUNDRED HIDDEN KISSES | s. jaeyun

୨୧ -› so, the story goes that you’re supposed to feud with Sim Jaeyun, with his perfectly handsome face, his foreign exchange student accent, or his flirty remarks. but the story has a plot twist; somewhere along the way, you fell for his winks and charm.

pair -› (BLONDE.) soccer player!jake x top student!fmr | trope -› one sided enemies to lovers | wc -› 1.7k | cw -› kissing but idk how to write two ppl kissing oops anyways downbad HORRENDOUSLY down bad jake here | library

the weird thing about a crush is, it happens unexpectedly. 

maybe not so unexpected- because your heart has an attraction to the lamest soccer player on the team before your head even tolerated him. you hated sim jaeyun and you swore you did- but maybe you didn’t swear hard enough, because at some point, you could see your sense of rational floating above your head before it pops like a bubble and disappears into thin air. 

see- you’re supposed to hate sim jake. he’s obnoxious and loud and always says ‘no’ in the accent that makes it incredibly clear that it’s him (and only him) who’s said it. and not just that- he’s become best friends with sunghoon in an instant. park sunghoon, aka, your study buddy since beginning of high school. so yeah- maybe you hate that sunghoon has started hanging out with jake more and you swear you always catch the new exchange student looking in your direction whenever he’s with sunghoon. he definitely talks about you, but sunghoon is as quiet as a mouse when you two study for exams- which is infuriating, and so unlike him. but there’s another huge huge problem. 

jake is probably the prettiest boy you’ve met in your life. 

he came to the school with shorter hair, but sunghoon’s ability to change someone’s entire look is blessed by the gods- and sunghoon himself was kissed by eternal beauty, so of course, when they started hanging out, you noticed the change in clothes to be more baggy, his walk to be much more confident, his grin to be sly, and his hair to be so much cuter when styled. you were royally fucked from the day you saw jake wave in your direction when he entered class, with a confident smile that you weren’t sure he only showed to you. 

and that made you all the more irritated with him. “I am not going to teach him anything, hoon.” you state firmly. “he’s like- the most annoying younger brother you could ever ask for.” and there’s a worrying look that flashes in the boy’s eye, leaving you confused and pondering on the way home. “why don’t you teach him art history?” 

“we goof around too much.” and you roll your eyes at his lame excuse. 

and yet another problem arises. see, park sunghoon knew much more than you did when it came to jake. he knew that he played soccer in his backyard before heading to school, that his dog was a border collie, and that sim jake had a crush on you- aka- the most unavailable girl ever, who’s never dated anyone, thinks boys (especially boys who play sports) are stupid, and has a hatred for jake and only him. so sunghoon thinks his friend is utterly hopeless, and wants to tell him to give up, but when sunghoon hears how the boy raves about you and how pretty you looked in class today, he smacks jake on the arm and whines to him about shutting up and to stop being a loser. 

“do you think she’ll like it if i dyed my hair blonde?” 

sunghoon sighs, “you could dye your hair any color and she’d still want to cut it off.”

jake blinks. “but blondes are hot, right?”

and that’s how he shows up the next day, making you shrink in your seat from just how much better he looks and how much more annoying that makes him. 

jake has heard about the guys you’ve rejected for liking you because they’re shallow. and jake sees how you scowl at him- but he’s determined to make you his girlfriend, so once again, he tells you good morning with that accent of his and that grin on him, and you mumble a good morning back, wondering why the hell he’s always trying to talk to you. maybe he still wants you to tutor him for art history. maybe that’s why he intercepts you on the way out of the school gates with heavy breathing after running across campus.

“please- stay after practice.” he begs you, and you recognize a fresh ocean scent that compliments his bubbly personality with how he’s run up to you and leans down to make eye contact. and there’s only one thought in your head, one that manifests into stupid words that stupid and now blonde sim jaeyun hears. 

“you’re so pretty.” and you think if an alien ufo were to suck you up into space and carry you away from the pit of shame and embarrassment you’ve carved out for yourself, you would embrace extraterrestrial life without hesitation if it meant getting away from him. “fuck, sorry, i didn’t mean to say that.” 

and fuck, his laugh his so cute when you hear it, so much so that it momentarily distracts you from the blaring truth that his efforts to look good for you have paid off. “you think i’m pretty?” 

“pretty stupid.” and you try to say it with malice, but it comes out small and he knows you mean none of it. “i’ll be waiting with sunghoon on the bleachers.” 

yeah- it’s safe to say that jake has never scored that many times against his goalie in his entire life. but his excitement is infectious, and when sunghoon sneaks out of the sitting area to meet his friend during a break, the latter knows something is up. “she called me pretty, hoon. like, she actually meant it.”

“are you sure?” 

“and then she said i was pretty stupid, but liste-ow! what the hell?” he stops himself when he gets yet another smack from sunghoon- except this time, his friend’s eyes are shining. 

“no way. she meant it?” and jake nods in earnest. 

“that’s why she’s been waiting at the bleachers.” and sunghoon fake gags. 

“you’re disgustingly in love with her or something.” jake offers him a lopsided smile and bounces off in your direction, afraid you’ve left now that there’s no one on the field and the sun might start to set soon. but to his relief, you’re there, with your pretty hair and your pretty face and your pretty everything. 

“____!” he says running over with his bag. “sorry for keeping you waiting.” 

you close your notebook, where you’ve done half of your math homework between watching jake pass the ball and scoring. and you’re a little irritated at how long it takes for boys to run across the field to practice soccer, but you’re just more worried about getting home safely. “tell me what you need. it’s cold, and it’s getting dark, sim.” 

“you walk home?” and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t noticed something like that sooner. and you nod, packing your things slowly. “i’ll go with you.” 

“why?”

“because i don’t want a pretty girl like you to walk home alone.” he says, changing his shoes. 

“i’m not worried because it’s dark, i’m worried because it’s cold.” you argue, not ignoring how he calls you pretty. 

“then wear my hoodie.” 

“but my face will be cold.” 

“then kiss me.” he blurts. 

huh? kiss? jake? 

“kiss?” you reiterate, staring at him like he has three heads. 

jake’s eyes widen in panic. “well you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“it’s not like i don’t want to.”

“so if you want to, and your face is cold, why can’t we..”

“well i don’t know what it’s like to be kissed!” you admit awkwardly, suddenly finding the dirt on the bleachers much more interesting than the way jake is probably looking at you like you’re a loser. 

“it’s okay, i haven’t either.” and his confession makes you whip your head around, face to face with a boy who very much looks like he’s had a girlfriend- or a few. 

“but-“ and you’re definitely taken aback. “but you’re so..” 

all of the playfulness floods back into his grin as he unabashedly observes your every reaction. “so…what, ____?” and despite a frown overcoming your features, your heart thuds rapidly with the proximity between you two, and you can’t help but lose your train of thought when he’s so close. “pretty?” and it refers to your slip of tongue, making you scrunch your nose in embarrassment. 

“i don’t know.” your murmur. 

“you don’t? come on angel, you aren’t the smartest in our class for nothing.” and you hear the way his accent permeates every few words, and unfortunately, it’s just painfully unfair how attractive he looks when he chuckles and reaches up. “may i?” he says, and you nod, letting him scoot closer and grasp your chin. and you give him permission because you don’t have a reason to say no, and even if you did, all protest dies on your tongue when he leans in just a little bit more, and your eyes flutter shut, tilted slightly for your lips to slot perfectly against his. and your face burns with how much you enjoyed your kiss with jake, so much so that when you part, it’s not for long, since you place your hands on his shoulders and whisper to no one but him, “kiss me again.” 

and you kiss sim jaeyun on the bleachers for the second time, your hands pulling him close as you both enjoy the spark of the moment. and jake can’t get enough of you- it's evident with now the time you spend apart from each other far less in comparison to the time he spends with his eyes closed and with your lips against his. 

you pull apart with a giggle and a boulder of bashfulness on your shoulders, unsure of how you even got here with your lip balm smeared across his lips. and you’re one of the smartest students there, but your train of thought probably crashed somewhere the moment you could smell the fresh scent of his cologne. 

yeah- maybe you were doomed from the start. 

“let’s get you home, yeah?” 

and even though your face is still cold, you wear his hoodie and hold his hand to make sure you’re not cold anywhere else. “what did you want me to stay behind for?”

“right- art history!”

“i said it a whole bunch of times! i’m not going to tutor you, jake!”

he pouts. "still?"

reblogs + interactions r appreciated!

[pitchsidestories]

the law of attraction II Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1880

a/n: hi, it's based off this lovely request here. On a different note, how adorable are Ingrid and Mapi in that gif ?! ❤️

“Here comes our little genius, girls.”, Mapi told her teammates proudly while you walked towards the injured defender. Their curious glances made your face turn hot.

“Maria, we’re the same height, so stop calling me little!”, you playfully rolled her eyes at her.

“Sure.”, she shook her head in amusement.

“Girls.”, Ingrid intervened smiling.

“Ingrid, hi.”, you greeted her, happy to see the Norwegian again.

“Hi. Nice to see you.”, the dark-haired woman responded, wrapping her arms around you for a hug.

“Great to see you too. Also watching you two at training is something different than Uni.”, you mumbled thankfully into her embrace.

The weight of the library books in your rucksack reminded you of what you’ve been doing the whole day. Spending too much time in front of your laptop without successfully coming closer to solving the mathematical issue you’ve been working on.

“She’s getting some distraction from a math problem.”, Mapi explained to the fellow footballers with a smug grin on her lips.

“Yes, maybe the distraction helps me to solve it later.”, you replied in a hopeful tone.  

“Worth a try.”, Ingrid nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Such a smart ass.”, the tattooed Spaniard teased you.

“Maria.”, the Scandinavian scolded the older woman before she continued beaming at you, maybe we can all grab some food together after training?”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”, you answered happily, you could really need a distraction and being in your friend’s apartment with Bagheera who loved to cuddle with you sounded delightful in your ears.

“Math nerd, it’s time for the beauties to get to work.”, Alexia reminded the three of you winking.

“I’m not keeping them from it.”, you pointed out laughing.

To her captain the defender said slightly annoyed:” Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.”

On their way to the training pitch, Marta remarked:” I mean you two have a personal supporter here so you should be motivated.”

“She's probably calculating some stuff in her head instead of watching.”, Mapi commented with a smirk.

Ingrid agreed: “As usual but she looks adorable while doing so.”

“Yeah, she does.”

Both of them watched on as you stared into space, too occupied with the equations in front of your inner eye.

Alexia shot her two teammates a suspicious look and teased: “One could almost think you two are in love with her.”

Mapi laughed nonchalantly: “Oh, please.”

“We're not.”, Ingrid protested, a pinkish hue appeared on her cheeks as she jogged off to warm up.

Alexia followed closely: “Just focus on training.”

“I am focused.”, Ingrid said.

The team captain looked over her shoulder at Mapi with a raised eyebrow: “I mean both of you.”

“Ale!”

She shrugged Mapis complaint away: “I just want to train.

Right after training, you found yourself at Mapis and Ingrids apartment. The takeaway you picked up on your way back filled the kitchen with a delicious smell of freshly cooked Thai food. You gathered around the kitchen table as Mapi started to set the table.

“You girls did so well.”, you remarked as you opened the styrofoam boxes, eyeing the food.

Mapi chuckled: “It was just a training session… or did you mean picking the food?”

“The food actually.”, you grinned, cheekily stealing a fork full.

“Of course, we're great at that.”, Mapi replied.

You started to spoon some food onto your plate and smiled: “Trainingwise, you both seemed a bit distracted.”

“Distracted?”, Ingrid echoed, almost dropping her fork in surprise.

“Yes.”

Her girlfriend swiftly changed the topic: “Tell us instead if there's someone distracting you from doing too much uni stuff.”

“No, no time for that. Besides you two do that already.”, you answered truthfully.

The norwegian blinked at you innocently: “We're not doing anything.”

“Right, we only invite you over for dinner or games.”, Mapi nodded.

“See?”, you only asked, the couple clearly already made the point for you.

Mapi gave you an unimpressed look and said around a mouthful of food: “You could just say no.”

“Yes, but I like going.”, you had to admit.

“And you can't work on your uni stuff all day round.”, Ingrid joined in.

“Exactly.”

You sighed. It was charming that they worried about you but in the end, you had chosen this career path and you loved what you did.

“It's kind of my job…”

“Yes, and we're so proud of you.”, Ingrid said, carefully reaching across the table to take your hand in hers.

You took a deep breath before confessing:” Thanks. It just gets lonely at times. Sometimes I want to have a relationship but then I again, I don’t think I would have time for that.”

“You know we’re always here for you, right?”, Mapi asked you in a cautiously tone.

You shot her a grateful glance: “I do, and I appreciate that.”

“You know, I think there might be a solution for this.”, the Spanish defender begun.

“You do?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously at her.

Turning her head to face the Norwegian, Mapi continued:” I think Ingrid is thinking the same.”

“I am.”, her girlfriend nodded earnestly.

Confused you looked between the football players:” What are you talking about?”

“Tell her, Mapi.”, Ingrid urged the Spanish woman to keep talking.

“We could provide the relationship stuff for you while you focus on your studies.”, the defender suggested.

“Wait.. are you saying..? You must be joking.”, you responded, the surprise clearly written all over your face.

“No, we’re serios, y/n.”, Mapi reassured you.

“We both want to be with you.”, Ingrid emphasized the previous words of her girlfriend.

“I thought I was the only one with the crush.”, you replied still shocked by the offer of your friends.

“Oh dear, you might be very book smart, but..”, the defender smirked.

“But not when it comes to girls.”, the Norwegian ended the sentence of the older woman equally amused.

“The laws of attraction.”, Mapi hummed.

“That’s something they don’t teach in University.”, you answered, running one hand nervously through your open hair.

“No worries, we can teach you that like you taught me math at school all those years ago.”, the defender promised in a soothingly voice.

“I think I would like that.”, you declared smiling.

“So would be.”, Ingrid grinned satisfied.

“I can’t believe that.”, you giggled in disbelief.

“You better start believing.”, Mapi said.

“She’s a mathematician, she probably needs proof, Mapi.”, the dark-haired woman reminded the older player.

The Spanish defender mumbled:” Good point.” She was the first to kiss you, Ingrid followed swiftly. Both kisses tasted like the start of something new and exciting.

“What do you think? Enough proof?”, the Scandinavian midfielder gave you a challenging look.

“Yes, I think that was enough to make me believe that you were serious about this.”, you responded with a shy smile on your lips.

“That’s what we wanted to hear.”, Mapi commented beaming.

It took you some time to get used to a new relationship but a few weeks in, you could confirm that you felt happy and safe with your two girlfriends. So, of course you were a tiny bit sad when they left for the Champions League semifinal in London while you had to stay in Barcelona and work on your thesis… Or at least that was you told them.

Ingrid stood on the perfect green grass at Stamford Bridge right before warm-up. She watched the stadium slowly fill through a curtain of rain.

With a soft sigh, she said: “It's sad that y/n couldn't come with us to London, Mapi…”

“Maybe she can join us for the final if she isn't too busy.”, the injured defender shrugged.

“I mean it's in Spain which might make it easier for her.”

“That would be great.”, Mapi agreed.

A sudden grin appeared on Ingrids face as she pointed over towards the away fans. A red and blue flag had caught her attention. “Oh look, someone in the stands has the same flag as you, Mapi.”

As Mapi followed her gaze, Ingrids jaw dropped in shock: “Wait, is that y/n?”

From your place in the stands, you had no idea what your girlfriends said but the way their faces went from shock to lighting up with excitement told you everything you needed to know.

“There's no way!”, Mapi exclaimed.

“That little bi-…”, Ingrid started but was quickly interrupted by Marta who nodded in Vickys and Salmas direction. “Ingrid, not in front of the children!”

“Sorry.”, the Norwegian laughed before pulling Mapi with her towards the stands.

Laughing, you waved your Barcelona flag as they came to a stop in front of you: “Hi Ingrid, Mapi.”

“What are you doing here?!“, Mapi asked, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

You shrugged: “Surprising you girls.”

“You said you were too busy!”, Ingrid pouted.

“And I was busy but one of my fellow students reminded me that you only live once, so…” You gestured around the stadium with an innocent smile.

Mapi shook her head: “Why do you listen to them but not to us?”

“It's a scientific fact that we only have one life…”

She did not let you finish and instead rolled her eyes: “I can't with you nerd.”

“Me neither but I'm really glad you’re here.”, Ingrid smiled at you.

You grinned: “You're welcome.”

“You'll be our lucky charm.”, the defender winked and you could feel the blood rushing into your cheeks.

“Hope it works.”

Ingrid gave you a quick kiss: “See you after the match.”

“Have fun but win this.”, you called after her as she hurried away to warm up with the rest of the team.

Over her shoulder, she replied: “With Mapi and you we should be able to.”

“Ready, Mapi?”, you asked the Spanish defender smirking.

She took your hand in hers, replying confidently: ”Ready.”

“I can’t wait.”, you exclaimed as they started playing the hymn of the women’s champions league.

Despite the rain the team of your girlfriends were eager to win this and Mapi and you tried your best to support them from the stands. After the match ended in a 2:0 for Barcelona, your friend cheered:”Y/n, we won!”

“Ingrid was amazing, right?”, you wanted to know from her, your eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes, she was.”, Mapi grinned at you. Both of you were too caught up in your bliss, so you didn’t saw the Norwegian coming.

“Hey!”, she greeted you, mirroring your bright smiles.

“You were so great, Ingrid.”, you told her proudly.

“Thanks.”, Ingrid responded.

“We’re so proud of you.”, Mapi mumbled while wrapping her arms around the taller woman who lifted her up easily in their hug.

“You were amazing support.”, the younger player declared.

The Spanish defender who was pulling you into the group huddle announced with a cheeky grin:” That means you’ve to come to the final too.”

“I do?”, you questioned amused.

“Yes, absolutely, you can’t say no.”, Ingrid tuned in.

“I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

“We’ll count that as a yes.”, Mapi winked at you before kissing first the Norwegians cheek than yours.

And indeed, you were able to come to the Champions League final much to the happiness of your girlfriends. The law of attraction didn’t allow anything else. Love has won before any of the teams graced the pitch.

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 6

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.3K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, no smut, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, b*tch, etc.), fluff, dirty talk, choking, Dom/Sub(brat)~relationship established

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 5 => 🦋

*Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

“So, where yo’ man at? He still ain't back yet?” asked Monica. We had been on the phone chatting all morning. “I guess on the lake. He's still probably fishing,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Oh, so he out fishing, and you at home being all domestic and shit. Okay, housewife!” Monica laughed. “Shut the hell up,” I laughed.

I had been cooking all morning since Terry left. I packed his lunch in a cooler before making breakfast earlier that morning. “So, we cooking three meals a day now?” she said being messy. “Listen, you messy whore. Stop picking on me,” I said, smacking my lips. I turned back to the stove and stirred the pot of collard greens. “You right! I'll leave you alone,” Monnie said.

I walked to the fridge and pulled out the variety of shredded cheeses I bought. I poured all of them into a glass bowl I placed on the counter. Since it was too soon to cook it, I only wanted to start preparing the macaroni and cheese for now.

“We both know you're lyin’!” I said into the phone. “Girl, it's just crazy seein’ you like this. It's so fuckin' cute. You all soft and shit,” she said giggling. “Whatever!” I yelled back while rolling my eyes. “You and I both know you ain't never did no shit like this. I'm used to Big Mama who be pressin’ niggas. Now, yo’ ass in the house cookin’ for one,” she hollered. I scoffed at her remark. Was I really that down bad?

I opened the oven and checked on the cornbread. The sweet smell of honey wafted through the air. I lightly pressed the top of the bread checking the firmness. I put on an oven mitt and pulled it from the oven. I sat it on a towel on the counter. “Girl, I wish you could see this cornbread. It's beautiful,” I said smiling. “Only you would call cornbread beautiful. Keep teasing me, and imma pull up, bitch. I'll bring my own Tupperware, so don't worry!” she cackled. “So, you just gone show up to eat, then leave?” I asked. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? Y'all too busy playin’ house and shit!” Monnie stated.

“You know what? Fuck you! I'm getting off the phone,” I snorted. “That's right! You betta have Mister’s plate on that table by the time he make it home. Oh, and bring me back a niece or nephew while you at it,” she giggled. “Bye, and it's still fuck you!” I said, hanging up the phone.

At this point, I was floating through the kitchen— mixing Mac and cheese, stirring collard greens, frying and flipping chicken, and whipping up a banana pudding. It felt so good to be in my happy place.

4 hours later ~ around 7 p.m.

Rinsing off the day, Terry was upstairs taking a shower, and I was finishing the final touches for dinner. The mac and cheese was browned to perfection. The collard greens were flavorful and savory. The fried chicken was chef’s kiss. The cornbread smelled like heaven. The banana pudding was just waiting in the fridge. I had outdone myself. Maybe Monnie was right. Was I in my housewife era? Had Terry put me in soft girl mode? Ah, shit!

As I reached to retrieve the plates from the cabinet, I felt something press against my back. “I got it, mama. Let me,” Terry said, reaching over me. “Thank you,” I said, kissing his cheek. He put the plates down on the counter in front of me. “Shit, I didn't realize you had done all this. You really weren't playin’, huh?” Terry asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. He leaned over and started planting small kisses on my neck.

“If you wanna eat, you gotta leave me alone. The plates haven't even hit the table,” I giggled while shrugging my shoulder to get him to stop. “It’s a shame that a man can't have dessert before dinner,” he said, turning me around to face him. He pressed his body against mine and trapped me against the counter. “Terry, you promised to behave. Come on!” I said, pushing my hip towards him. “No, I promised to try. I did. I swear, but you look so damn good,” he said, placing his arms on the counter beside me. I whined and scrunched my face. Did I want to fuck Terry’s brains out? Yes! However, I had also spent all day cooking his favorite meal and dessert.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Ah, mama! Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. I asked you to cook for me, and you did just that. Thank you, love,” he said pulling me into him. His lips crashed into mine. He held my face in his hands and tilted my head to look him in the eyes. “Forgive me?” he asked flashing that devious smile. This sneaky bastard knew how to get me. “Yes, now move!” I said nudging him away from me.

Terry reached for the plate in front of me. “I said move. Didn't I? That means sit down, Terry!” I said rolling my eyes and laughing. I turned towards the counter, blocking him. “My bad. I don’t know what it is, but you knowin’ yo’ way around a kitchen like this makes me wanna…,” he said backing away from me. “Makes you wanna what?” I questioned as I turned around to look at him. Terry’s eyes lingered on my face and slowly dropped to my abdomen. A smile so sinister spread over his face. “I know damn well you aren’t suggestin’ that. A baby, Terry?” I scoffed while smiling. “I mean… You love me, right?” he asked while sitting at the table.

“First, it was Monnie talkin’ about bring her back a niece or nephew. Now, you! I can't deal with this. Why does everybody want me to get pregnant?” I laughed. “I don't know Monnie’s reasons because I wouldn't trust her to watch a pot of boiling water. However, I know mine, and I have… well,… many,” he said leaning back against the kitchen chair. He raised his arms so that they rested across the back. “And what might those be? Hm? I really wanna know, sir. Tell me,” I said as I turned to the food waiting on the stove.

“Don't worry about it, Mama. Just know I haven't found a reason not to. I'm just waitin' on you,” he said smiling. “Yo’ ass gone be waitin' a long ass time, too. A baby? Terry, you can't be serious!” I squealed. “A long ass time, huh? That's what you think. Imma get one out of you, ‘Vana. Best believe, I'm not gone have to trap you to do it either,” he cackled. “You know what? I'm not doin' this with you!” I said beginning to plate the food.

20 minutes later

“Done, baby?” I asked Terry while standing with my plate in my hand. “Uh,… Yeah,’’ Terry said. “You sound unsure. Baby, I ain't gone ever tell you you can't have more,” I said placing my plate in the sink. Terry’s eyes rose to meet my backside. His eyes lingered on my ass since my back was still turned. “More of what?” Terry asked biting his lip. I could sense a hint of something in his voice. I peeked over my shoulder to see him watching me. I giggled at his antics. “Terry? You know I can see you, right?” I said walking back to the table. I leaned over so that my face was close to his. If this was the game he wanted to play, let’s do it!

“Mmm. Why you playin’ wit’ me, ‘Vana?” he said shifting in his seat. “It’s easy,” I responded. “Oh, really?” he said licking his lips. I could feel his breath on my face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. I could tell he was becoming more aroused by the second. “You never answered my question, honey. Do you want more?” I asked squatting down in front of him. “And you never answered mine. More of what?’” Terry asked as he leaned up to gently grab my chin. “You want my honest answer?” I asked placing my hands on his knees.

Terry's eyes watched my hands. “Of course, I want honesty, mama. Talk to me,” he said letting his thumb stroke my cheek. “If Daddy wants more, he can have whatever the fuck he wants,” I said trailing my hands up his thighs. Terry’s movements stilled, and his eyes shot up to my face. His eyes clouded with lust and darkened with desire.

Terry’s grip on my chin tightened as he used it to pull me forward. My knees hit the floor so I was kneeling in front of him. I leaned over and let my cheek rest on his growing erection. “Mamas, don't start something you can't finish. If you aren't ready for this, find you something safe to do,” he said. “The fuck is that supposed to mean,” I snapped as I looked up at him. “Aye, watch yourself. You heard me, little girl. I meant what I said,” he said grabbing my chin again. “Me? A little girl? Does someone need a reminder of who the fuck I am?” I asked leaning back on my calves and folding my arms across my chest. “You got one more cuss word before I…,” he said lowering his eyes into slants.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was initiating “playtime”. The excitement of the unknown pulsed through my veins. I was about to allow Terry to fully indulge in his needs and wants. I calmed my breathing before looking up at Terry again. “Before you what? You ain't gonna do shit, and we both know it. There ain't shit you can give that I can’t take,” I said fully committing to brat mode.

“You sure you wanna take this route? Once we begin, there's no turning back. You know that, right?” Terry asked leaning over me. His posture had changed and so had his energy. His shoulders were stiff and squared. It was as if his body was blanketing my entire aura and being. I sat for a minute contemplating my next move. How could I outdo myself?

I smiled as a thought crept into my head. I pulled my hands away and placed them in my lap. With the confidence of a goddess, I said, “You created this monster. Deal with it.” Terry's breathing halted before a smirk spread across his face. His hands instantly grabbed a handful of hair at the back of my head. “You got a lotta mouth, lil mama. I don't like that. I don't like it all,” he said tightening his grip. I moaned loudly. I could feel a puddle growing in my panties.

I was fully committed to my role as a brat. I laughed at Terry in an attempt to piss him off. That was having little to no effect on him. I knew I had to make him execute his fantasy to the fullest. I took a deep breath before speaking. “Fuck all that! What you trying to do, huh?” I asked biting my lip and cocking my head to the side.

All sentiments of expression left Terry’s face, and his body grew in anger. His hand quickly left my hair and found my throat. He squeezed tight enough for my breathing to stop. Ironically, all I could think about was how good this felt. My pussy quivered and ached as I released what felt like a mini orgasm. It soaked through my panties as he loosened the grip he had on my throat. “Look at you. Daddy’s little slut. You just couldn't help yourself, huh? That’s fine, mama. Just know this— when we get in that room, I’m gone turn yo thick ass every which way but loose. Don't run. Don't speak. Don't touch shit. It's my turn. Got it?” he said, releasing me with a push.

I looked up at Terry with big doe eyes before speaking again. “Yes, Big Daddy. I understand,” I said while struggling to hide my excitement. “Oh, you think those pretty brown eyes gone help you, huh? Ha! Too late for that. I’m trying to see the monster I created. Bring her out. Fuck all that cute shit!” he said leaning back into the chair. “But…” I started. “Aye, I don't remember asking you to speak. The only thing I want you to do with that there pretty mouth of yours is to suck, lick, slob, swallow, and do it again. You nasty, bitch!” Terry demanded.

As if activated on cue, I could feel the heat between my legs. I wanted this man’s hands all over me. RIGHT THE FUCK NOW! It was Terry’s turn to indulge in his fantasy as a dom. I loved the idea since he would show hints of it sometimes. His only request was not to be easy. He didn't want me to fully submit without any pushback. He liked the idea of me talking shit and provoking him. Terry’s plan involved leaning into a darker side of himself that he had never completely let out, and I trusted him enough to agree to do it. I felt he deserved this moment especially since he didn't judge me about mine.

So, let’s see where tonight takes us.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @insidefeelingofanadult @creartivefairy @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo

@skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho @pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk

@charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

@onherereading @blyffe @beenathembo @helloncrocs @thiccc-c @persethegawd

[baptismbaby]

† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 3

mean! ellie x innocent! reader a/n: will post to ao3 baptismsbaby. sorry if this is a little rushed. smoked a blunt and brain is still fuzzy. unsure how i feel about the ending hope yall like it anyways warnings: toxic! ellie, degrading, praise, pup used as a petname, oral (ellie! receiving), strap usage (r! receiving), slight edging, possessive! ellie, reader is gagged at some point if anyone hates that creds to elliesgalaxy for ellie pic wc: 3.4k<3 part one part two

Six months had passed since you first hooked up with Ellie.

Looking back, you had changed drastically since that night. You used to be so strict with religion and refused to have any fun. It took a month of hooking up with Ellie to finally get over it and realize you could be a Christian and still have fun. I mean, it was the apocalypse. Rules haven’t existed in over twenty five years.

In the beginning, you were constantly telling Ellie “this is the last time.” She’d look at you with a teasing smile and that glint in her eye. She’d laugh it off, always saying the same shit. “You need me.” You’d go back, giving more and more of yourself up to her. Whatever she wanted, you gave to her. The more sex the two of you had, the better the friendship outside of the hookups got. Dina was extremely happy to finally hang out with both of you without the bickering. You loved Ellie outside of the sex. She had her moments still but she was the funniest person you’ve ever met. You wished she could be that way with you alone sometimes. You knew you had to hide your feelings if it meant getting to sleep with Ellie but it was difficult. Whether there was a party at Jesse’s or her place, she’d tell everyone in the smoke circle how bad she would want to fuck some random girl at the party. Ellie didn’t, of course. She’d just say that to get a rise out of you so she could tease you about it later. It hurt but you refused to let it show if it meant risking not being able to see Ellie anymore.

It was another night of partying for everyone and the girls were at your place getting ready. Ellie sat on your bed, wearing a brown flannel and some jeans. Since the weather had gotten warmer, she had trimmed her hair a bit. The way the choppy layers fell in her face sometimes made you blush. She looked so good.

“I’m thinking about wearing something super revealing,” said Dina, going through the dresses she’d find on patrol. “I need Jesse to be jealous.”

“I give it a week,” mumbled Ellie.

“I am not getting back with him!”

“You said that the last time,” you pointed out.

“And the time before that.”

“The time before that time too.”

Dina hit you and Ellie with the dress she was holding. “Stop it you two, I get it! I mean it this time.”

You looked back at Ellie who was already staring at you with a smirk. Dina groaned and continued to look for clothes while you laughed.

“The little being silent but talking with the eyes thing gets on my nerves,” complained Dina. She handed you a dress to wear and you held it up to your body. It was white and silky with a little lace trim at the bottom.

“That’s a little short,” said Ellie.

“Yeah, which is perfect. She needs to get some finally.”

Ellie shot a glare at the back of Dina’s head but neither of you noticed.

“I’ll try it on and see.”

You began to undress, turned away from Ellie. You could see her watching you through the mirror. You weren’t wearing a bra but was wearing a see through pink thong.

“Woah, where’d you find that? It’s so cute,” complimented Dina.

“I found it on one of my patrols a couple months ago.”

Actually, Ellie had found it for you.

You slipped into the dress and turned around, seeing your ass hanging out at the back. “Okay, maybe this is a bit much but it’s super cute.”

“Damn, I would so fuck you,” Dina remarked. “Please wear that to the party. At least five girls are gonna throw themselves at you.”

“Eh, that’s probably too much, Dina. We see the same people every time anyways. No one new to impress. Do you have something else for her?” asked Ellie. You raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why she was being like this.

“I have some more but-”

“I want to wear this, it’s fine,” you interrupted. 

“Okay cool, we ready to go?”

Everyone nodded and started to head out. Dina made it down the stairs first, leaving you and Ellie at the top. Dina was grabbing stuff to put in her bag so she didn’t see Ellie grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards her. She wrapped an arm around you and used her other hand to hold your hair. Her lips brushed against your ear. “I fucking told you it was too short. Are you trying to piss me off?”

You sighed, tilting your head to the side further as she ran her fingers down your neck to your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t care if you wore that for me but in front of everybody? Are you fucking kidding me? You get a taste of my cock and now you’re a slut? Don’t even think about coming by tonight.”

She shoved you forward roughly. You stumbled but quickly stood up straight, spinning around to give Ellie a dirty look. “Stop it,” you whispered harshly. “You’ll be over it by the time the party's over.”

“I mean it,” Ellie hissed. “Don’t speak to me for the rest of the night. Whores don’t get rewarded when they don’t listen. Fucking brat, you know better.”

Ellie walked past you down the stairs, leaving you dumbfounded and angry. You stomped down and grabbed one of the bottles from the table to drink on the way there.

“Woah, pregaming?” questioned Dina.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a long night.”

-

You were miserable at the party. It had been ten minutes since the three of you arrived and Ellie was acting like such a bitch. You sat by her on the couch while everyone passed around a blunt. She kept skipping you, telling the others you weren’t participating.

“Dina, give me the fucking blunt,” you demanded once it reached her for the third time.

“You’re not smoking.”

“Yes I am, Ellie. Even if it means I have to roll my own.”

Dina squinted at the both of you in confusion. If she was an outsider, she would’ve thought the two of you were a couple in an argument. But it was just you and Ellie. No way there was something going on.

“You can’t even fucking roll,” Ellie insulted. You leaned forward to see another smoke circle across the living room. 

“I’ll just join Jesse’s smoke circle. Sorry, Dina.”

You got up, pulling your dress down before walking over to Jesse’s group. You made sure to swing your hips a bit in case Ellie was watching.

“Why are you two arguing again?” Dina asked Ellie once you left.

“It’s nothing.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the two of you were fucking.”

Ellie took the blunt from Dina and puffed on it. “No way,” she declined. “You couldn’t pay me to fuck church girl.”

“I’d do it for free,” Ellie’s friend said next to her. When she passed the blunt to him, she made sure to elbow him hard in the side. “Ow! The fuck, Ellie?!”

“She’s gay.”

He frowned in disappointment. “Aw man, all the hot chicks are.”

Dina couldn’t stop eyeing Ellie. She was acting strange. Back at yours, she kept telling you to put something different on. Now she’s watching you intently from across the room as you do the thing she told you not to do. At that moment, everything clicked for Dina. Ellie liked you.

“So, what’s the deal between you and Dina?” you asked Jesse as you passed him the joint.

“Shit, I don’t know. Pretty sure we’re over for good.”

“That sounded convincing,” you said sarcastically.

Jesse made a face at you while he crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? What about you and Ellie? You follow her around like a lost puppy.”

“We’re friends now.”

“The way you look at her is not how you look at Dina. It’s how I look at Dina.”

As he spoke, his eyes landed on her from across the room. “Look at her. Talking up some other guy to piss me off. Ellie is staring at you. She looks jealous. I’d know.”

You glanced back but Ellie quickly averted her gaze. You sighed and looked down at your hands in your lap. You wanted to say something so badly but knew that Ellie would end it with you if you told anyone. A girl came and sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. “Hey,” she slurred. “Wanna dance with me?”

You looked up at Ellie who’s brows were furrowed in anger. You grinned and stood up, grabbing the girl’s hand. You led her to an open spot on the floor and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around you as you started grinding against her with the beat of the music.

“I’m Grace,” she introduced herself. “You hang with Ellie and Dina, right?”

You nodded, too busy watching Ellie as her face grew red.

“You’re super pretty. You do a lot of that church stuff, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded dryly. You turned around so your back was pressed against her chest. Her hands rushed up and down your body until she grabbed your tits. You shoved them off and looked back at her. “Don’t,” you demanded. 

Grace saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Ellie speedwalking towards you. Grace let go of you and ran off. You were perplexed, wondering if maybe you came off as rude. You felt hands grab you and start shoving you towards a door.

“Hey, what the hell?”

You were pushed into a bathroom. The door slammed and you spun around to see Ellie locking the door. “Ellie!”

Ellie shot daggers at you with her eyes, which meant you needed to be quiet. She pushed you against the wall and held you there with a knee between your thighs. Her hands went over your mouth to stifle any sounds you were making.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She started to unbuckle her jeans, still covering your mouth. They dropped around her ankles to reveal the strap she was wearing over her boxers.

“You’re mine and mine only. This pussy,” she growled as she grabbed your clothed cunt tightly, “belongs to me.”

She kneeled down to yank your panties off. 

“E-Ellie, I’m s-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She balled your panties up and held them up to your face. “Open.”

“What?”

“Open your fucking mouth!”

You obeyed and parted your lips slightly. She sighed in frustration and reached out to pull it open further, shoving the panties into your mouth.

“This will keep you quiet,” she muttered. “You’re really dumb, you know that? Good girls don’t try to make their girlfriends jealous.”

Before you could even react, she bent you over the sink and shoved her cock inside of you. You let out a muffled groan, the feeling of her filling you up taking you by surprise. She fucked you hard but painfully slow. She’d thrust in, wait a couple seconds then do it again. 

“I want you to watch,” she commanded. She grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head up so you could look in the mirror. You could see Ellie behind you with an angry expression on her face. “Stupid girl, you will never find better than me. Get that through your fucking skull.”

She sped up, making you squeal even louder. She placed both of her hands over your mouth as she pounded into you harder.

“Fuck,” Ellie whimpered. “Fuck, you look so good like this.”

Ellie noticed your legs started to shake as you felt your climax getting closer.

“You wanna cum baby?”

You whined, pushing yourself back against her so you could finish. Ellie pulled out of you and turned you around. She lifted you up onto the sink and started kissing up and down your neck. Ellie took your panties out of your mouth, shoving her tongue down your throat.

You tried to pull away to speak but Ellie grabbed your head to keep you still. Her strap would brush against your cunt, eliciting a moan from you.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?" Ellie asked when she pulled away. You shook your head no. “That’s right, baby. You’ve been so mean to me tonight. You’re lucky I’m even fucking you right now.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” you murmured. “I shouldn’t have danced with that girl. I belong to you.”

“You say you’re sorry but you have to prove it to me… get on your knees.”

You obliged and kneeled down, opening your mouth expecting her to fuck it with the strap. Instead, she slid out of the harness and her boxers simultaneously and set them down on her pants.

“I want you to make me cum.”

You were shocked. Ellie never let you touch her and she was going to let you eat her out? You didn’t know if you could do it since she never taught you. You didn’t want to disappoint Ellie.

“I’ll guide you through it, pup. It’s okay,” she assured you as if she read your mind.

Ellie leaned back against the wall as your face went towards her pussy. You stuck your tongue out and swiped it up her slit. Ellie shook a little, reaching down and grabbing your hair. “Move your tongue in circles,” she said.

You slowly moved your tongue in a circle on her clit, savoring the taste of her. You looked up at Ellie who was biting her lip to stay quiet.

“T-That’s it,” she praised. “My g-good girl.”

You sped it up a bit once you got used to it, Ellie’s legs trembling against you.

“Fuck!” she panted. “Just like t-that, pup. You’re doing s’ well.”

You decided to stick a finger inside her to watch her reaction. She grabbed the end of her shirt and bit the fabric, trying hard to not make a sound. You picked up the pace, curling your finger as she struggled to stay standing.

“I’m right there baby, don’t stop.”

She gripped your hair and yanked you away once her orgasm hit. She trembled as she started to come down, your hair still tangled between her fingers. Ellie pulled you up and slammed her lips against yours, the two of you desperate to taste each other.

She lifted you up onto the sink again and brushed a finger against your clit.

“You’re so good at making me feel good, baby. I bet you could make yourself feel good too.”

She stepped back and leaned against the door, her arms crossed and a huge smirk on her face. “Come on, touch yourself for me.”

“W-What?”

“I said I wasn’t gonna let you cum but that doesn’t mean I won’t let you finish yourself off while I watch,” said Ellie. She chuckled as your face grew red. “C’mon, I know you can do it.”

“I’ve never tried it, though. I prefer letting you do it.”

“I’m not touching you again until you make yourself cum.”

You whined, feeling too embarrassed to do something like that. You knew that if you refused again, she’d leave you there all alone. You slowly reached your hand between your thighs and pressed your fingers to your clit. You sighed and slowly started to move them in a circle, Ellie eyeing your cunt closely as she licked her lips.

“Atta girl,” she praised. “You like touching yourself for me?”

You didn’t respond. She laughed and grabbed your thigh gently. “You’re shy now, pretty girl? How cute. You were just fucking me and now you can’t even look at me.”

You sped your fingers up the more she spoke to you, soft whines escaping your lips and echoing off the walls.

“Good girl. You put on such a good show for me.”

Your legs shook as a knot began to build in your stomach. “El-Ellie, can I cum please? I-I’m so close.”

“Go on,” confirmed Ellie. You grabbed Ellie’s hand on your thigh and gripped it as your climax took over you.

“Shhhh, baby. That’s it. Be quiet.”

Ellie took your hand and sucked your fingers to get a taste of you. She hummed, wrapping her arms around you to help you stand. “You did so good,” she whispered, holding you close to her body. For some reason, you wanted to cry. Ellie hasn’t comforted you after sex since you lost your virginity, if that was even considered comfort. You melted in her arms and sighed. The warmth of Ellie’s body made your heart ache. You wished so desperately she was like this all of the time. You suddenly remembered what she called you earlier and wondered when you should bring it up. Ellie stepped back and grabbed your panties.

“Let me help you,” she said. Ellie pulled your panties up your legs and tugged your dress down. She quickly fixed your hair with a smile before putting the rest of her clothes back on.

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded in approval, putting her belt back in the loops and buckling it.

“You said… good girls don’t make their girlfriends jealous.”

“I did.”

“Am I… your girlfriend?”

Ellie shrugged, avoiding your eyes as she tried to focus on anything but you. “Uh… I think that’s up to you. I haven’t asked so… we really aren’t.”

“Are you wanting to ask me?”

“Fuck, why is this so awkward?” Ellie muttered to herself. “I’ve kinda been repressing some feelings towards you for a while now because I wanted this to be a hookup thing and nothing more. But tonight confirmed my feelings for you. Seeing you wearing that dress, knowing people would be eye fucking you… it made me sick. When I saw you dancing with that girl, I was infuriated. Dina kinda figured it out somehow and said I should tell you. I guess I’m not good at hiding my feelings once I have them.”

You smiled. You never thought your feelings for Ellie would be reciprocated. You knew it was hard for her to admit it, which made you like her even more.

“See, I knew something would come out of this!” you exclaimed. Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the shit eating grin that grew on her face.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I was certain that if you knew I liked you, you’d resent me.”

“Pfft, I knew you liked me. You do a shitty job at hiding things. I can’t go anywhere without you trailing behind me. You’re a pain in my ass but in a good way,” Ellie opened the door for you and followed you out. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to her.

“So, you wanna ask me?”

“Ugh, no. We’ve said enough for it to be official. You can’t make me say anything.”

“Aw, you’re shy!”

“Shut up…”

Ellie stopped and looked down at you, her thumb slowly brushing against your cheek as her eyes softened. “You were always mine, weren’t you?” she asked. 

“Of course I was.”

“I promise to be nicer. I know I said that last time but I mean it. I like this. You’re not so bad, church girl.”

You chuckled at the nickname. “I guess you’re alright yourself, Els.”

“What if I told you Jesse and Dina are making out behind you right now?”

You turned to look and laughed at the sight. “We already knew it would happen,” you said.

“Yeah. The party is starting to die a little bit. Wanna swing by yours so you can get a few things for the morning?”

“What do you mean?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re spending the night with me.”

“Wait, really?”

“I’m not saying it again. Let’s go,” Ellie said as she dragged you out by the hand. The two of you spent the rest of the night holding each other in Ellie’s bed, talking about anything you could so neither of you would fall asleep. Ellie felt nervous about entering a relationship and still felt some guilt about being such a bitch to you. And yet, something about this felt so right to her. She was okay with changing her ways since you changed for her. Ellie knew she made the right choice and that it would be worth it. You were wrapped around her finger.

[sundrop-writes]

Claustrophobia

Isaac Lahey x GN!Reader

Word Count: 800

Teen Wolf Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of the abuse Isaac experienced from his father, mentions of that abuse having a last psychological effect on him (in the form of claustrophobia); Isaac having a panic attack due to his claustrophobia being unexpectedly triggered; this is more of a hurt/comfort fic because the reader helps him calm down. Implications that the reader doesn't know about the existence of werewolves and the supernatural. The reader's gender is not described in any way. Also, I don't know if this is at all sound advice about how to treat someone during a panic attack - not something I am versed in. I think that's it? Not proofread cause I'm on a mental hiatus babey

A/N: I just watched Season 3, Episode 4 (I've been watching two episodes a day and really enjoying the pace of it) and naturally the moment where Isaac gets stuck in the closet called to me like a beacon of whump. So here's this. Also highly recommend pairing this with Claustrophobia by 3OH! 3

...

"Did it have to be a closet?"

Isaac let out a dry chuckle, a seemingly nervous laugh as he eyed up the space apprehensively before stepping inside, putting some of the supplies on one of the shelves.

The two of you began gathering supplies off the cart and loading them into the janitor's closet, carrying out the punishment you had been given. You had been fifteen minutes late to class that morning, and you had heard that Isaac was in detention for fighting - beating up one of the new kids. You knew that since his father died, he had taken on somewhat of a new persona - more bold, more unafraid to get in trouble. But you had a feeling that violence didn't suit him.

It made you wonder what the other guy did to provoke the fight, or what the truth really was. But you felt that it wasn't your place to ask.

"It's not so bad." You remarked, sensing his general anxiety about this activity, but having no clue why.

He seemed fairly confident in every other area of life - he took down guys on the field in lacrosse without even flinching, he walked tall in the halls with confidence (not that you had noticed, not that you stared at him or anything) - it did make you wonder what was so intimidating to him about a closet full of spray bottles and napkins.

"I'm... not so good with small spaces." He remarked quietly, shyly, grabbing some more of the supplies off the cart and stepping inside beside you to begin organzing everything.

Ah. He was claustrophobic. That made sense.

You had heard rumours floating around the school after his father died - you had even heard whispers between Scott and Stiles when they were trying to be subtle in their conversations but had a poor sense of tact. Isaac's father used to lock him in a freezer as punishment, among other things. It was a horror you couldn't imagine.

"You-"

You were about to offer for him to leave, offering to finish up the rest of the work by yourself so that he wouldn't have to be burdened by his anxiety, when the closet door swung shut, slamming closed in a strangely violent manner. Isaac rushed to the door, furiously ripping on the handle, trying to get it open.

"It - it won't open-" He gasped, suddenly sounding terribly out of breath.

He was panicking, likely overtaken by horrible memories that you couldn't even imagine.

"It's okay, it's probably just stuck, I can call someone-" You took your phone out of your pocket, trying to reassure him, but his panicked flailing in the small space, now shouldering against the door, trying to ram it down, knocked your phone out of your hand and cracked the screen.

You didn't know if it was still in working order or not, but you knew it would be wiser to calm him down first.

"Something - something is blocking it from the other side!" He said, his breaths becoming more panicked and frantic as he kept trying to charge the door down - how was he not hurting himself?

He was sweating and shaking, and you ached with sympathy for him.

In Isaac's mind, he was right back there. Locked in darkness, clawing against the tiny, enclosed walls, desperate to get out. He was suffocating, he was running out of air, he was gonna die. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

Suddenly, your hand moved against his shoulders, a flat, firm palm rubbing his back, trying to comfort him. The pure gentleness of the touch startled his senses back to reality - there had been nobody to comfort him back then. He collapsed against the door, pressing his forehead into the metal, and deeply against his will, he let out a sob.

"Hey, shh, it's okay." You told him, trying to be as soothing as possible. "You're being so brave-"

"I'm not brave." Isaac choked out. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize." You told him firmly, fighting back your own tears of empathy had how distraught he was. "Come on, sit down. Let's take a minute to calm down and breathe and then we'll find a way out of here."

You helped him onto the floor - he practically collapsed into a sitting position against one of the shelves, his entire body shuddering and shaking. Though he wasn't the most naturally affectionate person in the world, he didn't deny your touches when you cradled his head onto your shoulder and continued to soothingly rub his back.

After a few minutes of silence, save for his whimpers as his tears died down, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry," He apologized again. "I just - my dad..." He trailed off, barely able to voice it.

"It's okay," You told him, and for once in his life - he actually felt okay, here with you, in your arms. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Thank you." He sighed.

When Scott came and got the two of you out of the closet (after Isaac had apologized a dozen more times for cracking your phone screen) - he could sense something in the way Isaac looked at you now, but he didn't say anything about it. Not yet.

[lexsssu]

Naive (Alhaitham)

TAGS: Alhaitham/F!Bunny!reader, friends to lovers, pining, yandere, possessive behavior, obsession, mating cycles/heats, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Why do we have to learn more math even if our major has nothing to do with it? At this rate, I’m going to flunk and take it again next semester…”

Alhaitham’s fingers twitched unconsciously as your pair of long ears drooped down, hanging by the sides of your face almost as if they were pigtails instead of actual appendages.

“What the heck am I going to need calculus for when I’m trying to develop improved cultivation tools and methods? It’s not like I need to find out the value of X while I’m plowing the fields or something…”

His heartbeat is delayed for a single second at the mention of ‘plowing fields,’ and he has no one else to thank other than the hormonal male Akademiya students who’d made one or two passing unsolicited remarks about Amurta’s only female beastkin student.

He made sure to memorize their faces and names for him to deal with at a later date.

“Alhaitham, help meeee…!” 

Despite being a proud descendant of the Taguel, the way you so easily beg and plead so submissively at him with large watery eyes and a pout formed by a pair of luscious lips has him wondering if you were unconsciously using some sort of secret seduction techniques passed on through your clan. Perhaps you were even secreting some sort of pheromones that made him calmer, more relaxed, and susceptible to your whims…

“Knowledge always comes at a price. I’m willing to tutor you, but you’ll owe me a single favor that you can’t refuse and which I can redeem at any time of my choosing,” bright turquoise orbs darkened as he leaned his head against his curled right fist. “Are you still willing to pursue this knowledge despite the costs?”

“Of course! I trust you, Alhaitham. So why would I be scared about the favor I’ll be owing you for this? Knowing you, you’ll probably make me do some paperwork or help with your research,” you giggle, the fluffy cotton ball of a tail you had wagging at how silly your friend was. 

Why would you ever be afraid of him when he’d been nothing but honest with you? Alhaitham wasn’t some random cur that tricked hapless maidens into his slimy grasp.

If only you knew just how depraved he truly was when it came to you. 

Then again, it is his luck that his adorable little bunny was such an innocent creature that only saw the best in him.

It’s up to him to make sure no one ever takes advantage of your kindness and naivety.

Even if it means he has to carefully plan and wait for the right time to finally express his true desires, he is willing to be patient. Especially when he knows that you are what awaited him at the end.  

You remain blissfully unaware of his thoughts and intentions, not even questioning him or thinking how odd it was for him to have you sit on his lap as he taught you your most dreaded subject.

Alhaitham is a good man and an even greater friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both graduate within the same year with, as expected, flying colors, much to the joy of your respective families. It’s a solemn yet joyous affair, one that you invited him to because how could you not when it was with his help that you managed to even graduate with honors?

There is sure to be some teasing courtesy of your family once you get home, but that is the last thing on your mind as you leap into Alhaitham’s strong arms.

Even through the layers of your graduation attire, you feel the wall of solid muscle that is his body, something that always amazed you when he was one of the most brilliant scholars in Sumeru.

“Thank you, Alhaitham. I wouldn’t have been able to get this far without you always having my back,” you don’t notice the way his sandstone-colored irises seem to dilate as you curl around him, your entire body supported by a single arm around your soft waist while another hand settles upon the plushness of your bum.

Being so close to you like this allows him a whiff of your scent, a mix of soft floral and woody notes with a hint of fruity and citrus underneath. He feels his body heating up from the inside as his senses are assaulted by your voice, your body, and even your smell.

He won’t be able to last long if you keep this up.

Don’t you know how much you drive him crazy?

Rational thoughts come second to instincts when it comes to you, something your kind is very much familiar with.

If there aren’t so many people right now, he’ll throw you onto the grassy ground and mount you right here. He’ll put a whole litter of kittens in your belly and take care of you and your new family for the rest of his days—

Somehow, he manages to keep himself from making a scene by fucking you right in front of your family and the entire Amurta faculty, namely your master, Sage Naphis, whose short temper was legendary throughout the Akademiya. 

However, each day that passes and each small action you make only wears his thinning patience and self-control. It’s not a question of ‘if,’ but rather a question of ‘when,’ and only the Archons know when that will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So…Acting Grand Sage, huh? I always knew you’d go on to do great things, but Sumeru’s de-facto leader? Makes me wonder why you’re even hanging out with a country bumpkin like me~” Sticking your tongue out playfully and winking at him, you miss the way he swallows seemingly nothing but air.

“Don’t be absurd. Who I associate with of my own volition is no one’s business but my own.” 

Although he may look and sound cold at first glance, you have known Alhaitham long enough to know for sure that he simply has his own ways of showing he cares. He wouldn’t let Kaveh stay at his place if he didn’t care about his friend after all. And even if the scribe wanted to be stubborn about it initially, you simply offered to house Kaveh instead, which ended up with the architect staying at Alhaitham’s in the end.

It’s honestly downright adorable how contradictory he could be at times, seemingly wanting to maintain an unbothered and uncaring attitude when you knew full well how good of a friend he was.

If only you knew that the real reason why he allowed Kaveh room and board was that he’d sooner gut the other man than let him stay in the same house as you. 

He’d gouge the architect’s eyes out if they even settled too long on you.

It’s one of the reasons you’ve come to harbor feelings for him.

He is handsome, he is brilliant, but most of all, he is kind even when you have nothing to give him in return aside from your time and friendship.

You repeatedly stamp down the warm bubbly feelings within you that try to rise to the surface, repeatedly telling yourself that there is no chance that such a fine specimen as Alhaitham would return your affections.

Archons know just how many times you’d fingered yourself to thoughts of him during your heats. How you imagined scenarios of him coming to you in the dead of night, whispering sweet nothings and promises of breeding you full, just as nature had intended.

But there’s no way that could ever happen…right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"'m sorry…didn't know…it'd come early this…year…!" 

You are a pitiful mess as you lie on the grassy ground, your body overheating from the inside as the symptoms of your heat swiftly overtake all rational thought. According to your calendar, it wasn’t supposed to happen for another few days!

He memorized the exact dates of your cycle, so he knows full well just when you’ll be perfectly ripe and ready for the taking.

Had you not forced his hand in the first place, he’d have gladly waited for your regular heat.

“Don’t l-look at me…Haitham…!” 

How can he not look upon the stunning sight of you looking so hot and disheveled because of your need to be mated and bred? It is a sight he will commit to memory for the rest of his life.

You desperately force down the beastly instincts that urge you to submit to the nearest virile male and present your soaked cunt that begged to be bred. It is humiliating, especially because Alhaitham is forced to watch your lewd and debauched display. 

It brings him such glee at the knowledge that no one will ever get to see you like this. 

Whether it was your upperclassman Tighnari, your friend Cyno, or even Kaveh, none of them will ever have this privilege.

You don’t even want to think about how you’ll face him after this.

Because why would he ever want a mere beast like you?

It is his misfortune that he wasn’t born a beastman like you were. However, he’ll make sure to make up for what he lacked tenfold.

You sniffle, feeling small tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body and mind fight one another. Your hands move to cover your face, unwilling to let him see any more of the pitiful sight you made.

There’s no need for you to look for a mate from the other beastkin clans.

He’d rather burn Gandharva Ville to the ground than hand you over to the likes of Tighnari. 

Just because the other male was your senior and studied under the same sage didn’t mean that he’ll let that damnable fox sink his claws into you. 

“No. I believe I have a better solution for your plight,” with one hand, he pins both your wrists above you as he settles himself in between your legs.

“Mate with me.”

His words send a shock through your body, floppy bunny ears standing ramrod straight as you gaze up at him with large eyes, heart beating like a drum as the weight of his statement registers in your mind.

“Don’t you see? It’s simply because our bodies are compatible with one another that your heat opted to arrive earlier than expected. Your body already knows what your mind has yet to even comprehend,” Alhaitham’s turquoise orbs seemed like they were almost glowing in the dark as they gazed down at you like a predator eyeing its prey.

You were always the only one meant for him, even if you didn’t realize it at first.

And yet, you don’t feel a single ounce of fear.

Rather, you want to be devoured by him.

You want him to stuff you full with his cum again and again until his seed takes root in your awaiting womb and bears fruit.

You want him and will gladly take everything he’ll give you.

“Alhaitham…mate with me, please?”

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 1 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you're an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them. Originally posted to AO3

Chapter Summary: Your new(ish) co-worker has a special talent: getting on your nerves.

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Swearing (if that even counts).

You’re ending the first half of your 24-hour shift the same way you always do—dinner with the team. Well, at least that’s how you try to end the first half of your shift. Of course, that’s also assuming that both the fire and medical teams are actually at the station and not on a call.

All things considered, this probably only happens once a week, if that.

When it works out, though, it’s a good time. You already spend a lot of time in the rig with Hen and Chim, being an advanced paramedic and all. When it comes to the firefighters, though, you aren’t as well-versed, so it’s nice to have a weekly ‘getting to know you’ session. It seems like these days, it’s a 50/50 shot if they’ll make it to next week's dinner.

The firefighting crew at the 118 is a revolving door of macho men. When you first started, it was Chim, Tommy, and Sal. Chim became a paramedic, so he didn’t exactly ‘leave.’ Sal got relieved of duty, so he didn’t really have a choice. Tommy left, but for something better. Maybe it isn’t so much the job that makes people leave; maybe being a firefighter at the 118 is a stepping stone for bigger and better things.

There is one firefighter that, if he left, you wouldn’t be heartbroken. In fact, it would probably make your shifts a whole lot better.

Evan Buckley, aka ‘Buck.’ God, even thinking his name makes you want to gag a little.

He’s a decent kid, but he’s just that: a kid. He’s a Probie; he’s only been on the job for about 4 months, and no one would assume otherwise. His heart is in the right place, but his brain hasn’t caught up yet. You’re starting to fear it never will.

“I know exactly what that polite, distant smile means: she’s bored,” Chim says as he leans over the counter, pulling you right out of your thoughts and back into reality. “This woman is so far out of my league, but she’s once-in-a-lifetime… I can’t let her go.”

“Lots of fish in the sea,” Bobby, your captain, chimes in. He leans over to pull something out of the oven.

“Not with the bait he’s using,” Hen remarks as she walks by. Her arms are full of dishes to set the table with.

“Amen, sister,” you agree, hot on her heels. She gives you a small smile and hands you the plates, which you accept with a smile of your own.

“Cruel, but true,” Chim sighs. “I met her on this new dating site, just for cops and firefighters, RomancingTheUniform.com. She’s an adrenaline junkie, so foreplay is me telling her stories about running into burning buildings and jumping into icy lakes and…”

“I’m sorry, wait,” Hen interrupts, “remind me: when was the last time you ran into or jumped over anything?”

“...I embellish a little.”

“Oh, noted.”

“So is she a cop or a firefighter?” You ask.

Chim gives you a look. “Why would she be?”

“Well, you said the website is for cops and firefighters,” you repeat. “Doesn’t that make her a cop or a firefighter?”

“Okay, it’s not just cops and firefighters,” Chim cedes, “it’s also for people that want to date cops and firefighters.”

“Ohhh,” you smile, “so cops, firefighters, and badge bunnies. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m telling you, the uniform is a major aphrodisiac,” Chim continues as he brings a salad to the table.

“Yeah, hence the term ‘badge bunny,’” you remark.

The conversation is interrupted by one of the engines backing into the station. You probably should have noticed it was gone, but frankly, as long as your rig is in the bay safe and sound, you don’t care what the meatheads are up to.

Speaking of meatheads…

“Oh good, PB is back,” you remark sarcastically.

‘PB’, aka ‘pretty boy,’ aka Buck. You started calling him Pretty Boy his first day, and over the months, you shortened it. He jogs his way up the stairs and dips a finger in the communal spaghetti bowl. You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee.

“Wash your hands!” Hen scolds as she pulls the bowl out of his reach.

“What if there’d been a call?” Bobby asks as he brings the last dishes to the table.

“I was in the neighborhood!” Buck defends himself. He takes one of the plates from Bobby’s grasp, but instead of passing it around like a normal person, he starts eating the food off the plate with his dirty hands. Sometimes, you wondered if he was raised by a pack of stray dogs.

Bobby starts lecturing Buck, and you smirk with a little satisfaction. Bobby’s going to write him up, and truthfully? It’s a long time coming.

“First infraction, two more, and you’re out,” Bobby says as he steals back the plate. “Wash your hands.”

“You know, you're not helping him by going easy on him,” Chim says once Buck is out of earshot.

“He just needs a little direction,” Bobby replies.

“I’ll remind you of that when he gets us killed,” you mumble.

The alarm bells start to sound through the station. Everyone groans, including yourself. So much for dinner.

Chim decided to catch a ride with the boys in the truck, so that leaves you and Hen in the rig.

“I’m sorry, dispatch,” you say into the radio, “118 RA responding: did you say the baby is in the wall?”

“10-4, 118,” the dispatcher responds. “Caller reports hearing a baby crying in his walls.”

“Copy that, 118 RA clear,” you say before hanging the radio back up. “Well, this will be fun.”

“You think you can play nice with Buck?” Hen asks, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, I’m always nice,” you reply.

“Not to him!” She laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t see you roll your eyes the second he got back to the station.”

“I can play nice and still think he’s a raging idiot,” you defend. “Besides, since when are you his biggest fan?”

“Trust me, I’m not,” Hen chuckles. “And I love you, but you don’t know how to play nice.”

“Why be the bigger person when you can be the bigger problem?”

That remark gets a full belly laugh out of Hen. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Hen parks the rig behind the engine in front. The boys come pouring out immediately, grabbing various tools and equipment. You make your way to the back of the ambulance, tossing Hen her med bag before picking up your own.

You follow the rest of the crew upstairs, and before you know it, the five of you are standing in some random guy’s apartment, listening for something that probably isn’t real.

“Look, I'm telling you, I heard a baby crying,” the man says. “Someone flushed a baby down the toilet.”

Hen picks up a bong off the counter and gives the man a look.

“I’m not high.”

You both raise your eyebrows.

“Okay, I’m pretty high, but it’s Sativa,” he says. “It makes you happy. It doesn’t make you hallucinate.”

“It could’ve been a rat,” Chim shrugs. “Sometimes rats get stuck in the walls.”

You frown. At the end of his sentence, you swore you heard a cooing sound.

“Shh,” you say to everyone, walking over to the bathroom. “Did you guys hear that?”

They're hot on your heels, watching as you take your stethoscope from around your neck and put it into your ears. You place the bell on the wall and wait. When you hear nothing, you begin rapping your knuckles on the tile until you do. Once again, it’s a faint cooing sound, not unlike a baby.

You then knock your knuckles on the wall until you hear a hollow sound. You take a marker from your pants pocket and mark an ‘x’ over it, knowing the space behind it is hollow. You take the stethoscope out from your ears.

“We need to open up this wall,” you say, pointing to the ‘x.’

“No, we’re being punked,” Chim disagrees. “It’s a tape recorder or something.”

“Maybe not,” Hen says, stepping forward. “Maybe a mother gives birth on the toilet and flushes it.”

“Okay, first of all, that's awful,” Chim says. “Second, do you know how pipes work?”

“If the baby is premature, its bones can bend and compress like sponges,” Bobby mentions. “We need to get in there.”

“Stand back, I got this!” Buck says, swinging his fire axe over his shoulder.

He runs up towards the wall with full intentions of swinging. Hen and Chim move out of the way and shout while Bobby tries to grab him. Ultimately, you’re the one to stop him, and you do it by placing both hands on the axe.

“Hey! Did you even stop to consider that you might hit a baby?!” You shout, adrenaline pumping through your bloodstream.

Buck just stares at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” you spat, pushing the axe out of the way.

“Buck, go get the saw,” Bobby directs.

“Try to find some common sense while you’re down there,” you call after Buck as he walks out.

“Nice catch,” Bobby says, looking at you.

“How nice of me to save the baby from one of the LAFD’s finest first responders,” you reply bitterly.

You can’t help but look at Hen, who quickly looks away. Her avoidance gives you a small sense of victory because this? This shit right here? This is why you can’t play nice with Buck. His head is screwed on backward, and it can get people killed. Playing nice isn’t going to fix that.

Thankfully, Bobby takes the saw from Buck once he brings it up. He makes a few small cuts in the wall before he and the other boys are pulling at the drywall. They quickly expose a massive pipe running behind the toilet.

“That thing is huge,” you remark to Hen.

“It probably connects a bunch of the toilets in the units above this one,” Hen returned.

“So… even with the water turned off…” you start, a sense of dread filling your stomach.

“If someone above us flushes the toilet, it could drown the baby,” Hen finishes. Almost before she finishes the sentence, she’s running into the hall, yelling for people not to flush their toilets. The boys make a few cuts into the pipe, and in no time, they’re taking it to the floor.

“Guys, I can see the head,” you say, joining them on the floor.

They make a few more cuts until the pipe is one straight segment.

“Get the head out,” Chim instructs.

“Yeah, you gotta push from below,” Buck chimes in.

You try that, but the baby isn’t moving. You look to the corner, then at Buck.

“Bring me the defibrillator,” you instruct clearly.

Buck scrambles over, picking up the case.

“Just the lube, Buck,” you rephrase, but he’s already coming back with the whole thing.

“Take it, take it,” Buck says, passing it off to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh before grabbing the lube out and tossing the rest of it to the side. You pour some lube on the baby’s head, then down by its feet.

“Work that in,” you tell Chim.

You move your index finger around the circumference of the pipe, brushing the baby’s legs with lubricant as you do so. Then, you gently apply pressure to its feet, and slowly, you can feel it move forward.

“This is gonna be a scoop and run,” you mumble.

“Hen, get the ambulance ready,” Bobby tells her. You’re not sure when she got back, but when you look up again, she’s gone again.

Slowly, the baby’s head emerges from the pipe, and the rest of her body follows.

“She’s not breathing,” you quickly note, “starting CPR.”

You place your index and middle finger in the center of the baby’s chest and press down fast and hard. “Looks like her airway’s obstructed.”

“Buck, get the bulb syringe,” Chim demands. A few seconds pass. “Buck, come on!”

“I’m coming!” Buck barks back, clearly in a panic.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you say quietly as you continue compressions. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Buck returns with the bulb syringe and uses it, but it doesn’t help.

“Dammit,” you curse. “You’ll have to try a blind finger sweep.”

Buck looks at you, then Chimney, then the baby, then back at you. “Me?”

“You gotta learn somehow,” you remark. “It’s easy: just turn her head to the side, curl your pinkie, and see if you can scoop anything out.”

Buck is hesitant initially, but he eventually does as you tell him. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to clear the obstruction, and the baby begins crying. Everyone laughs with relief.

“Let’s get her wrapped up,” you say, reaching for a towel.

The four of you rush down the hall, you with the baby in your arms. The pit in your stomach returns.

“No one held the elevator?!” you yell.

“Dammit,” Chim curses.

“Give her to me,” Buck says, nodding to the stairs.

You stare at him.

“Come on, I’m twice as fast,” Buck pleads.

“Screw this up, and I’ll kill you,” you threaten before carefully handing her over.

Buck takes off down the stairs, but you follow after. There’s only so much that can happen in a few flights of stairs, but you aren’t willing to risk it.

“I got you,” Buck says to the baby, “you’ll be okay.”

A faint smile crosses your face. Maybe Buck isn’t so terrible after all.

“Come on, move it!” Buck shouts as you both make it out of the lobby and out to the rig.

You climb into the ambulance with him, but before either of you can even sit down, you hear someone yelling to wait. It’s not just anyone: it’s LAPD Sergeant Grant, or as you’ve heard Hen calls her, Athena.

“Wait, is that the mother?” Buck says, looking at the young woman with blood-stained pants in someone’s arms. “Yo, screw her! Look what she did!”

Never mind. Buck is still terrible.

“Sit down and shut up!” You yell at Buck. “This is not your call! She is a child, and she’s bleeding out!”

“Look what she did!” Buck repeated.

“Come on, let’s get her up here,” you say to Athena and the man carrying the young girl, disregarding Buck’s protests.

Bobby and Chim made it down, so they help haul the young girl up into the rig. Chim stays at the head while Bobby sits next to Buck, the spot you were about to sit in mere moments ago.

“If this baby dies, it’s on you,” Buck says, staring at Athena.

“Stop talking, Evan,” you snap as someone closes the ambulance doors.

Using his actual name seems to shut him up.

“What’s your name, honey?” You ask the baby’s mother as you cut away her shirt to place EKG leads.

“Marika,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, Marika, but you just have to keep breathing for me, okay?” you say. “My friend Howie is going to start an IV so we can give you fluids and medication. You’re bleeding a lot, so I have to do what’s called a fundal exam, okay? I have to press on your stomach to make sure your uterus is contracting back down normally.”

She stares at you, eyes filled with tears, before eventually nodding.

Using one hand to stabilize over the pubis, you begin pressing down the other into Marika’s stomach, a few fingerbreadths below her belly button. She lets out a few whimpers. You don’t feel the fundus, or the top of the uterus, like you should.

“Marika, you’re bleeding a lot because your uterus isn’t contracting. I have to make it contract by doing a fundal massage. It won’t feel that good, but it could save your life.”

Once again, Marika looks at you before nodding. This time, she closes her eyes.

Using firm and consistent pressure, you push one hand down where the fundus should be and make small circles. Marika lets out a few more cries of pain. You notice that, after a few minutes, the bleeding starts to slow, and her uterus firms up beneath your hands.

“Hospital ETA 5 minutes, hang in,” Hen chimes in from the ambulance's cab.

“Something’s wrong,” Buck says, staring at the baby in his arms.

You quickly move over to him. “Put her in your lap so I can see.”

Buck listens, moving away the towel so you can look at the baby. She’s cyanosed around the lips. You flip open a compartment and pull out the neonatal ambu bag. You hand it to Bobby, and you don’t even have to tell him to start bagging.

“I’m so sorry,” Marika says. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Bobby squeezes the bag every other second, delivering a breath to the baby. Her color is starting to look better, but she isn’t very responsive.

“Here, let me try something,” you say.

You gently pick up the baby and set it on Marika’s bare chest. After a few moments, the baby begins to move and cry out.

“Oh my god, why did that work?” Marika asks, wrapping her hands around her baby.

“Skin-to-skin can help babies regulate bodily functions, like temperature and breathing,” you reply as you place a towel over them.

You look over to the men sitting next to you. Bobby gives you a nod, and Buck avoids eye contact, but you can tell that he’s pissed. Fuck him, he doesn’t know his head from his ass anyways.

Once the rig pulls into the ambulance bay, you and Chim help the ER staff get the gurney out of the ambulance. Bobby and Buck follow suit, only Buck tries to follow them into the hospital. Bobby stops him before he does.

Bobby gives Buck some lecture about how we did our jobs, and now it’s their turn; it’s the speech every overly excited first responder gets at least once at the start of their career.

A cop car pulls up, and Athena comes out. She clearly found the person she was looking for, because she starts yelling at Buck.

“You do not get to choose who lives and who dies,” she lectures.

“Really? Because I was under the impression that kind of was my job,” Buck retorts.

You could seriously slap him.

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby,” Athena continues yelling, pointing a finger at the hospital. “You’re gonna get someone killed.”

“Well, maybe, but not today,” Buck says with a cocky head tilt.

You laugh humorlessly. “You know what, Pretty Boy?” you say, turning to Buck.

Fuck it. Bobby won’t put him in his place, and Athena isn’t allowed to, so you take matters into your own hands, literally.

Before you even fully comprehend what you’re doing, you’re wrapping a hand around Buck’s throat and pushing him against the ambulance. You aren’t choking him, but you don’t move your hand because keeping it there is your only leverage.

“I’m getting real tired of this tough guy bullshit,” you growl, your face only an inch from his. He’s quite a bit taller than you, but when you bounced him off the rig, his footing faltered, so he’s crouched at your eye level. “You wanna get real, Evan? You didn’t do a goddamn thing today except get in the way. While we were busy saving lives, you were shitting your pants and dropping the ball, not exactly what a tough guy is supposed to do.”

“Okay, enough,” Bobby says, trying to break it up. You’re far from finished, though.

You move your hand from his neck, but only so you can point it in his face. “You aren’t a god — you don’t decide who lives! You didn’t even save a life today: we did, because you kept fucking up. And if you keep fucking up like you did today, you definitely will kill someone, and your little jokes and midday booty calls and your shitty little grin won’t change that!”

Bobby ends up physically pulling you away while Athena makes some room between the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to arrest her or something?” Buck says, rubbing his neck. “She assaulted me!”

“She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Athena counters. “I promise you, Buckley, the next time you screw up? It’ll be your last.”

Athena casts Bobby a glance before she walks away.

“You,” Bobby says, looking at Buck, “in the truck. Now.”

You start to walk over to the passenger’s side of the cab when Bobby calls after you.

“I want you in my office the second we get back,” He orders.

You clench your jaw. “Yes Captain.”

Ch 2

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”

“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”

“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”

Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”

“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”

“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”

During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.

Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”

“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.

“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”

“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.

“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”

Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”

“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”

“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.

Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”

Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”

Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”

Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.

[cameronspecial]

Could you write an enemies to lovers fanfic with Rafe Cameron x middle class sassy sarcastic chubby reader where reader and JJ are super close which pisses Rafe off but he completely loses it when JJ starts flirting, touching reader somehow, and ask her out. When JJ runs off somewhere to probably get a drink, a few minutes later, Rafe tells reader to come with him because it concerns her “boy” which is just an excuse to get her alone. She sees that JJ has a hand print on his wrist which causes reader to confront him and yell at him for hurting JJ and Rafe confess his love for reader which leads to praise and breeding kink sex. In this story, Rafe and Reader have known each other since she was 16 and he was 18 because she was his classmate at the kook’s academy

Everything Was Blue

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT and Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.9K

Masterlist

Ever since he stole her spot as class President in their senior year at Kildare Academy, Y/N has had it out for Rafe. She would’ve been fine if he won the vote because he wanted the position, except he didn’t. He only campaigned for the title once he saw how much she wanted it. He was lucky that being VP was enough for her to get into Harvard because she would’ve killed him on the spot if it had. 

The year spent as his Vice President was torture and she made it her life mission to return the favour to him. He would provoke her by sending her out as an errand girl. He would solely focus on the aspects of the job that made him popular with their peers, so when it came to the background work or the less favourable policies, she was left to tend to them. Rafe promised the students to make every Friday casual dress day and Y/N spent a whole weekend by herself working to make that happen while he and the other Student Council Members partied at the Boneyard. She got back at him though by anonymously telling Ward where his bottle of expensive whiskey went. 

To add to her distaste for the Kook, he always antagonizes her Pogue friends and her relationship with them. She may be rich enough to afford Kook Academy, but the number in her parents' bank account was not satisfactory for the Kooks so the Pogues took her under their wing. They didn’t care what she had financially; they cared that she had whipcrack remarks against Rafe and would stand up for them against any Kook who tried to mess with them. She was an honour Pogue and proud of it, especially since hating Rafe was one of the requirements. 

———

The sand gives way to her shoes as she hops out of her jeep. Music coming in front of her tells her the party is already in full swing and she curses Mr. Robinson for being late coming home from his meeting. She reaches into the car to pick up her phone and keys from the passenger seat, closing the door behind her. She spins around to find Rafe leaning against the car beside hers. “For someone who put time-management skills on her resume, you sure are late to the party,” he teases and then brings the red solo cup to his lips. She glares at him. “Well, for someone who claims to be good in bed, you would assume you could make a girl cum. But, at last, I’ve heard otherwise.” She smirks at the way his eyes narrow and continues her journey toward the gathering of people on the beach. He pushes off the car to follow her. “So you’ve been asking how I am in bed. Why? You want to take me out for a ride?” She laughs at the idea, “More like enough girls have been dissatisfied with the service you provide that they felt the need to complain.” 

His mouth gapes and he can’t think of a comeback before she spots JJ in the crowd and makes her way to the Pogue. 

“Hi,” she greets, running her hand along the top of his back to drop it on his opposite shoulder. He turns to her with a smile, “Hey, Beautiful. Where have you been?” “Oh, you know how Mr. Robinson is. He tells you he’ll be home by six and he comes home at nine. C’est la vie,” she complains. He laughs and guides her toward the keg near the bonfire. “Ahh, yes. The things you can do as a Kook. Don’t worry, we can get you caught up.” She nods, “I can only have one though. I’m DD tonight.”

After they get her drink, the two of them approach the speaker and begin to dance. His hands are on her hips, swaying with her movement and her head moves from side to side with her eyes closed. They are both caught up in the moment, so they don’t notice the pair of eyes trailing their every move. 

Rafe can’t stop staring at her. He never can. He pretends it’s because he is scrutinizing her; his heart disagrees—the blue flowers on her catch his eye first. The corset-like top deliciously hugs her curves and he wants to untie the little bow that rests between her bosom. His sight trails down her body to the skirt of her dress. Its flowing design stops him from being able to imagine what his head would look like between her thighs. The high slit does give him a small glimpse that makes him want more. He finds JJ’s hands on her hips and something grows in his heart. A green spot of envy. What is he doing? He shouldn’t care that Pogue is touching her. He hates her. He has to focus on something else. 

Luckily, Hailey sees him in the crowd and wanders over to him. She takes the hand that isn’t holding a cup and places it on her hips, dangerously close to her upper bum. He plays along with her, lowering his face to her neck. His lips ghost her skin. His gaze chances a look at Y/N. His envy flourishes and his grip on Hailey tightens. JJ’s mouth skims the shell of Y/N’s ear and she throws her head back with laughter. 

“I’m going to go take a wiz,” JJ informs the girl after making a joke about the Kooks beside them. She bobs her head and steps back. Kiara slips into the spot occupied by their friend and the girls dance together. 

A plan starts to form at the sight of the blonde’s departure. He keeps his distance while the Pogue dips into the wooded era of the beach. As soon as his enemy makes a reappearance, he rushes forward. “Dude, come quick. Something happened to Y/N,” Rafe advises. The boy is too drunk to question the older man and his concern overweights his suspicion. He follows Rafe, thinking nothing that he is being led back into the woods. 

———

It’s been a while since JJ has returned from going to the bathroom and Y/N begins to worry that he passed out somewhere. She navigates through the sea of people towards where she knows he likes to go to the bathroom when they are at the Boneyard. Her eyes scan every blond, yet she doesn’t detect the one she wants. At the edge of the crowd, she finally locates the man she wants; however, he isn’t in the same condition as he left her in. A purple bruise blooms around his eyes and a red cut on his lower lip drips down his chin. His unaffected knuckles mean he didn’t even get a punch in. “J-jay, what the fuck happened? Who did this?” she worries, taking his chin in her hands. She examines his injuries. “I thought falling face-first into a tree trunk would be fun,” he jokes. “Who do you think did this, Y/N/N? The only person who wants to do this on a fun night out instead of partying.” 

She isn’t surprised. Anger seeps into the back of her throat and she searches for the person she wants to let it out on. He is around the fire with Kelce and Topper. She storms over to him. Her finger digs into his chest and he backs him up against the rocks behind him. “Where do you get off?” she screams at him. He chuckles down at her, “Normally in my bedroom, but I’m not opposed to doing it in public if that’s what gets you going.”  She scoffs. “Please, I’d rather do it with a cactus before I let you anywhere near you.” He fakes a pout, “Aww, you want a partner with an exterior as prickly as your personality.”

Her hand goes up to grip the collar of his button-up. “I’m not fucking joking around, Rafe. Why the fuck did you beat JJ?” she interrogates. His frown turns irritated and he steps forward. “He is a Pogue. What other reason do I need?” he instigates. She shakes her head and lets go of him. “You know what. I don’t have time for your bullshit.” With her attention no longer on him, disappointment replaces his envy. He can’t let her leave. “Wait.” His hand wraps around her wrist and she stumbles backwards. “What?” she questions. She pivots in his direction with rage in her eyes. He lets go of her and steps back with his arms up. His mouth drops open. He stutters, “Uhh.” His brain panics and forgets all the words. She shakes her head and returns to her leaving. He goes into overdrive, taking her hand and dragging her to the parking lot. Out here, the music is muted here. She rips her hand out of his hold and uses it to slap him. “What the fuck are you doing?” she yells. He rubs the cheek she hit. All the words in the English language, yet he can’t seem to string enough of them together to tell her how he feels. 

“I love you?” The declaration sounds more like a question with Y/N spinning her eyes in their sockets. “You can’t be serious. If this is your new attempt at torture, then you have to work on the technique,” she quips, trying again to distance herself from her enemy.

The breath he lets out doesn’t match the length of his others. “August 12th, 2020. At two thirty-four pm, you walked into Bell’s Cafe with Kiara. Your tank top was a blue spaghetti strap tied at the back and your jeans were black with white embroidered flowers. You ordered a blueberry scone and blueberry mint iced tea. You and Kie sat at the booth by the window closest to the door.” 

She interrupts him, “What does this have to do with anything?” He doesn’t acknowledge her inference. “She asked you how you felt about entering your senior year and you told her that you felt confident you would get into Harvard, especially if you spent most of your time doing Student Council work. She thinks she pieces together where he is going. “So you decide you would make my life hard to mess with my chances,” she assumes. His head swings, “No. No. Will you let me finish, please?” He waits for a response and she motions with her hand to continue.

“You like the colour blue and anything to do with it. You bite the back of your pen whenever you are in thought. A habit you are trying to stop. You like to listen to audiobooks in the car. I know those things because everything you do catches my attention and everything I do is to get yours.”

She finally hits the bullseyes, “You took the Presidency so that I would notice you?” Hearing her say it out loud makes him feel childish. His hand cups the back of his neck. “Yeah. It’s stupid, I know. You were out of my league and my horny ass brain could only think of idiotic ways to be seen by you. You can’t say it didn’t work though,” he admits. She chuckles, “You really think I want to be in a relationship with you after you jeopardized my chances at getting into Harvard and have made my friends’ lives a living hell.” He steps closer to her, boxing her in against the car behind her. His head lowers to mimic the placement of JJ’s. “I think you like that I light a fire in your heart. I think every hateful stare we exchange is to mask our desire. I think that if I put my hand up your dress and under your panties, my fingers are going to come back soaking,” he says while his hand goes dangerously close to her entrance. “Shall I test the theory?”

His gaze bores into hers, anticipating an answer. He catches the small dip in her head and fulfills his requests. As expected, his fingers come in contact with a wet substance. He brings it up to his lips and sucks it into his mouth. His mouth drops back close to her ear, “Look at that, you are as wet as I thought you’d be. As sweet too. Reminds me of blueberry scones, except better.” His hand falls behind her near her rests and cups the doorhandle. He pulls it open, taking her back off the vehicle to shove her in. 

A thud resonates in her ears and she crawls back to lie down on the car seat. “Can I have another taste, Pretty Lady?” he begs, his eyes flicking down to her crotch. She exhales, “Yes.” He tuts and places his hand on her soft stomach. “That’s not how you ask politely.” She sneers at him, closing her legs and sitting up. “If you want to be that way, then I’ll find someone else to take care of me. Maybe someone with a better track record,” she postulates. She reaches for the handle. He grabs her wrist and spins her to face him again. He growls, “You are going to regret that.” He pushes her back against the seat, throwing her legs over his shoulders. The hem of her dress pools at her waist and her blue lacy thong is revealed. He groans at the wet spot forming. He drags it down his legs and throws it to his back seat. His eyes peek to where it lands. He grins when he sees they are wrapped around his gear shift. Those aren’t going anywhere. 

Her bare pussy shines up at him; he licks his lips in apprehension of his meal. His head dives in, making contact with the sweet substance. She jerks forward in a moan and her fingers attempt to grip his shaved head. The smirk he wears presses against her. The slurping that fills the car is pornographic. She whines at the release of pressure. His chin glistens as he looks up at her, “See, Pretty Lady. You can’t listen to what random people say. You have to get the facts from the source yourself.” Her plump pout has him chuckling and he squeezes her thick thighs. 

He focuses on her bud, sucking and nipping like his life depends on it. His saliva pools at the edge of his lip and it drops at the edge of her entrance. He places his tongue inside of her, curling towards him. Her walls start to coil around him. His fingers pass through his mouth and jam them into her hole at a fast pace. This unravels her and she constricts around him, making it hard for him to pull out. His hand rests on the mound above her clit. He messages the skin and she releases a bit to make it easier for him to remove his fingers. He rises from between her legs. His lips press against hers and she tastes herself on him, causing a need to regrow against her. He grinds his closed hard-on against her. “You did so good, Pretty Lady. You make such pretty sounds,” he murmurs to her. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb that everyone knows who you belong to now. Whether that be from how loud you scream tonight or you start singing my praise or your belly rounds with my baby. You are mine.” 

One hand is used to take off his belt and he yanks down his underwear with his pants. “You ready, Pretty Lady?” he confirms with his eyes on her. She circles her arms around his neck to bring him near her face and connect their lips. “Fuck me right now, or I’m going to go tell everyone that you can’t even find the hole.” A snicker passes his lips and he lines himself with her entrance. He doesn’t give a warning this time as his hips slam forward, causing their pelvic bones to be flushed. He sits up and raises her hips. The new angle mixed with the pace of his pistoning gets his tip where it needs to be to cause her the maximum amount of pleasure. “You are doing so well, Pretty Lady. You are going to make the best mama for our baby. Can’t wait to see you get all round,” he praises. 

His thumb reaches her bud and rubs it clockwise. “Harder,” she orders him, bucking her hips up to meet his motion. He grabs the headrest to anchor himself and drags his cock out so that his tip rests inside of her. His re-entrance is swift and with a harder force than before. “You feel so good, Pretty Lady,” he moans. “I’m not going to last.” She feels the warning jerk that confirms the truth of his words. She clenches around him, helping him to the edge. He spasms inside of her and rides out his high. His limp dick comes out and he is about to lean forward to help her to her second release when she stops him. She uses her hand to bring him up with a shake of her head. “What’s wrong? You didn’t finish, so I was gonna help you out. Can’t have you running around telling people I can’t make you come,” he jokes, trying to get back to work. She kisses him. “It’s okay. I don’t need that right now. All I want is for you to hold me.” He grins at her words and flips them over so she is on top of him. Her head is on his chest. The car is silent and the windows are fogged over from the activities that were happening inside. She decides to get one last word in, “And for you to apologize to JJ.” His grumble has her laughing into the night. 

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