#but i don't have tags for any of the others so

[smuttysabina]

The Most Motherly Maknaes

(Male Reader x Purple Kiss Swan and Dreamcatcher Gahyun, 6K Words) Tags: Mommy Fetish; Threesome, Tittyfucking; Double Tittyfucking, Fat sloppy creampies; Praise Fetish; Virgin Sex; Yet more Mommy Fetish; Oral and Vaginal Sex; Lots of Kissing and pampering; Oh hey, Jihyo is in this one as well, what a surprise; You don't get to fuck her though, maybe next time; Implications of Incest; Pregnancy; Also apron fetish I guess?

You had always had an absent mother, so it was somewhat of a pleasant surprise when you acquired two new ones, who were far more attentive. Their breasts squishing against either side of your chest, while the warmth of their breath tickles your neck, you find yourself trapped in their less than wholesome embrace. One of them is demanding of your attention, her luscious lips split by a wicked smile as she rewards your boldness with further "encouragement", pushing you to indulge yourself more. While the other is kindly and supportive, her fuller curves drowning you in affection whenever you crave solace, but always pressing you to try again. Gahyun and Swan may have been abysmal at getting you to focus fully upon your calculus homework, but they were excellent at satiating your desire for motherly attention; if not your passion for something more... Their hands gently close around the embarrassingly obviously bulge in your pants as they both whisper in your ears,

"Good boy..."

With your father busy spending his evenings plowing his secretary, and your mother constantly overseas on business (as well as whoring around), it had fallen to your dear cousin Jihyo to check in on you in what scattered time she had. Of course, as an active idol wrangling eight other active idols, she had only been able to visit on occasion, and when she had, more often than not she arrived dragging a whole train of girls. So you became well acquainted with the ladies of Twice, though soon enough girls from other groups would spice the mix, and looking back on it there was perhaps a noticeable preference for idols with matronly features... Beautiful Momo with her ditzy airs, Nayeon who always looked somewhat carnivorously at you, Jeongyeon who spent so much time teasing you, the elegant Karina, always accompanied by a warm Winter, kindly Nancy who doted upon you; and of course, many more who were lacking in such sizable assets. By the time you had finally grown into a man, these gorgeous women had pranced through your dreams on a regular basis, and Nayeon had started drooling uncontrollably whenever she was around you for more than five minutes. This attraction had not gone unnoticed, and so of course Jihyo had decided to act before she found the two of you in the closet; or really, any of the other idols. The last time Itzy had visited, Yeji had had to physically restrain Yuna, and the usually dorky leader herself had shown brief lapses where she would stare intensely at you, her eyes twitching spasmodically. To forestall the tragic loss of your virginity to a horde of slavering idols then, Jihyo, in her infinite yet somewhat warped wisdom, came to the obvious solution to the problem...

The afternoon had begun like any other, the dull mundanity of schoolwork, punctuated only by the brief breaks of entertainment when you would glance at your phone during a break. At least until the ping of a notification snatched your attention, and you read the message from your cousin Jihyo. She and a few (so probably a "few" dozen) girls would be swinging by to visit, but unfortunately she herself would be delayed by a few hours due to something coming up at work; but of course you would be a dear and entertain the girls already on their way? With a resigned sigh you halt your tiring journey through calculus, and hurriedly tidy up the place, not that it ever really got very messy, but still; the devil was in the details. After getting things touched up, you slouch back onto the couch, stuck in that annoying state of wary idleness as you wait for your slightly unwanted guests to arrive; hopefully Jihyo would be able to finish up whatever she was working on quickly, so you wouldn't get distracted for too long. You had barely started to settle in when the doorbell rang, and grumbling softly you scurry over to the door, throwing it open in welcome to reveal not the horde you had expected, but merely two idols. Gahyun and Swan blink bemusedly at your shocked face, before politely inviting themselves inside, squishing themselves against you in a warm hug that sends your heart racing a little.

The pair were, well, sizably endowed to say the least, a fact that remained prominent in your mind as you lead them to the couch, and as they slip in on either side of you. It was a struggle to not stare dumbly down at their exposed cleavage, but you manage to contain yourself to polite glances, and the girls do not comment if you perhaps spend a little too long looking. Swan was the more curvaceous of the two, her top straining to contain her hefty breasts, her body so soft you could drown in it. Gahyun meanwhile made up for her comparative lack of shapeliness with a vivacious and teasing attitude that soon had her teasing her companion relentlessly; and her chest was still sizable enough to distract anyone. The fact that both maknaes had you comparing their ample bodies, and not the intricacies of derivations, did not bode well for your productivity this night; not that the girls weren't trying to be supportive. Like any good guest, the idols did their best to repay your generosity as a host by helping you through your mundane tasks, so that you might fully entertain them when they are done. Therefore, they peered intently over your work, rummaging through their brains for long-forgotten knowledge before dispensing it in a haphazard manner; and with every movement they seemed to press closer against you. Soon you can barely move your arm without brushing against their breasts, as they each encourage you in their own ways; Gahyun pushing you, while Swan guides you.

You really would like to be able to finish your work, but your hindbrain was starting to swamp your forebrain with hormones, distorting its attempts to solve complex mathematics; those "3"s really looked a lot like Gahyun's lips... Something warm bulges against your leg, your body reacting naturally to the intimate proximity of such gorgeous ladies, even as you do your best to ignore its lascivious demands. But the busty maknaes are more receptive to your body's desires, they can smell the stench of lust emanating from you, and they seem more than willing to satiate it. The idol's hushed advice now steams against your neck and ears, making you shiver, their curvaceous forms invade your personal space beyond the point of politeness, and their fingers tip-toe oh so delicately along your thighs. Your pen slips from your grasp as you feel something soft press against your neck, and a stain of wetness drags itself up the other side. You shudder as the two idols kiss their way along your neck, but withdrawing before they could reach your own lips. The pair smile at you from either side, "Ready to become a man?" Gahyun purrs seductively, Before Swan chimes in, "Don't worry," she sighs, "We'll be gentle, a good boy like you deserves to have a nice first time, don't you think?"

Indeed, this was not exactly how you had planned on losing your virginity, you had imagined it would have been beneath Nayeon as she rode your first load out of you, or pinned down by one of the nymphos of Itzy, or even shuddering between the limber thighs of Wonyoung as she haughtily consents to opening her legs for the blood-relative of Jihyo; but not by such... motherly women. They politely take their turns kissing you, all the while praising you, scratching at an itch you had always born. Gahyun's lips are greedy for yours, her tongue eagerly slipping into your mouth to tussle with your own; then it is Swan's turn, her kisses more demure and reserved, more keen on showing you how to kiss properly than using your mouth for her own pleasure. Your face is already flushed by the time they are satisfied, your heart hammering in your chest, and they have barely even gotten started yet. With a knowing smile, Swan sits erect, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra and allowing her capacious breasts to droop freely down her chest. She leans back, allowing you to drink in the sight of her enormous assets, their dark nipples accentuated by her sizable areolas. Swan brings your head down into her cleavage, smushing your face between her boobs and urging you to indulge yourself; and soon you are suckling upon her nipple like a baby while you knead her tits. When you stop sucking it is only to unintentionally moan one word, which makes the idols share a pleased smile, and Swan agrees, "That's right dear, just let it go, be a good boy for mommy."

You shudder with unfathomable satisfaction as something in your brain clicks, your long-suffering desire for motherly approval was finally being satiated; and it when mixed with your youthful lust it scratched an itch you probably should have realized you had. Perhaps unsurprisingly, you were quite the mommy's boy. So you luxuriate in the warm comfort of Swan's breasts, while she rains praise down upon you; at least until Gahyun joins in on the fun, squishing her own massive boobs against your face. While your head is wrapped in such a soft embrace, your manhood conversely strains against your pants for release, and the moment your hips start to writhe the idols take notice. Gahyun leans down and kisses your forehead, "Aww, look how needy you are!" she purrs salaciously, "Don't worry, Mommy Gahyun will make it all better, okay?" Then with a devilish smile she wriggles down between your legs, carelessly shoving the low table back away from the couch as she crouches on the floor. Gahyum expresses shock after she wrenches your pants off, allowing your manhood to flop free of its confines, resting meatily upon your groin as she laughs with delight. You try and adjust it, but she slaps your hands away, "Just sit back dear, and let Mommy do all the work," she licks her luscious lips, "just look how hard you are..."

Snuggled between Swan's sizable cleavage, you open your legs so that Gahyun can have her way with you, which she does with evident relish. Her perky lips slip down your shaft, slathering your cock with her moist spit, staring up into your eyes as she takes your dick to the hilt down her throat. You groan loudly as your new Mommy gives you your first blowjob, and your balls throb as you struggle to contain yourself. But Gahyum has no intention of your first load sliding down her gullet, and after your meat has been suitably lubricated she pulls off of you; leaving behind only a red smear of lipstick around your base as evidence of her skills. Another smudge graces her cheek as she cleans off her lips with the back of her hand, and as she readies her breasts for what will come next, Swam murmurs praise down at you for holding on so well. Wearing a wicked grin, Gahyun pushes your cock between her breasts, squishing them around your shaft until only your tip peeks out. If her tits had felt heavenly pressed against your face, they felt transcendent when wrapped around your manhood, their softness moving up and down your length with surprising ease. Gahyun giggles at your facial expression, "You had better not cum yet dear, you can hold on for me, right?" Swan agrees, wrapping her arms around you to hold you tightly, "Mhmm don't finish yet, be a good boy and hold that load in for Mommy!"

Gahyun plays your meat like an instrument, pleasuring it with her smooth breasts until you are on the edge of climax, before pausing until your balls had fallen enough before continuing. Of course, after a few rounds of this you were begging for it, pleading with your Mommies for release, willingly submitting to their affections as you chased your orgasm. It also was not helping that it felt so good putting all your trust in them, these Mommies would not leave you, they would keep showering you with love and support so long as you remained a good boy, right? And it seems like you were, when Gahyun stops tittyfucking you so that she can stand and wriggle out of her jeans and panties, revealing her most precious spot for you to gawp at. She smirks at your reaction, before shooting a glance up at Swan's unseen expression, "What, your lips took his first kiss, its only right that mine take his first load," Swan evidently demurs, because she leans down to kiss your forehead, "Time to become a big boy," she informs you kindly, as Gahyun eagerly straddles your crotch. Her breasts brush against your face while her hand grasps your dick, lining it up for insertion before Swan chides her, "Geez let him watch!" Sighing, Gahyun indulgently leans back, allowing you to drink in the sight of her weighty breasts, as well as the glistening slit you will soon be filling. Her core tensing, she then raises herself up, bending your cock back until it kisses her wet entrance. Gahyun smiles teasingly, then she sits on it.

You moan unashamedly as your virginity is taken, your manhood pulsing as it is engulfed in Gahyun's warm, sloppy insides, every inch of it disappearing into her like magic until her prim lower lips reach the red mark left by her other lips. Her face as flushed as your own, Gahyun leans down to kiss you hungrily before breaking it off to growl, "Thanks for your virginity dear, how does your first woman feel?" You answer honestly, and her lips curl into a smug smile, "Good boy, now relax, try to hold on as long as you can..." Her pussy had felt sublime just soaking your cock in her juices, but when she started moving it was all you could do but clutch onto wobbling breasts and hold on for dear life. With your dick having been subjected to such extensive foreplay, you were never going to last very long, but things were hardly helped by the constant praise the two idols heaped upon you. "Such a good boy..." "Holding on for so long..." "Isn't she so tight?" "I can feel it twitching..." "Just let go..." "Good boy..." "Good boy..." "Do it, do it now..." "Do it for Mommy..." Gahyun grasps your face with either hand, staring intensely into your eyes, "Cum for Mommy," she purrs, and you do.

Your mind goes blank as pleasure surges through your shaft and into the warmth of Gahyun's belly, a seemingly endless tide of bliss that leaves you gasping for your Mommies. Squished between their soft bodies, you melt into them, unmoving except for the furious clenching of your manhood as it pumps an idol's pussy full of your sperm. When you come to, Gahyun has a look of sublime contentment upon her face, relishing in the feeling of her pussy being swamped by semen, her eyelashes fluttering with every fading pulse of your balls, "Fuck," she sighs, "Virgins always cum so fucking much, no wonder Nayeon got addicted to this..." Then she opens her eyes and smiles down at you, giving you a congratulatory kiss before asking, "So, how does it feel to be a big boy?" You awkwardly stammer out a reply to this goddess, but she laughs and hushes you after your words turn to gibberish, "Don't strain yourself dear, just relax, doesn't it feel so nice to be between us after you cum?" It does indeed, your usual post-coital sadness extinguished as you cuddle between the two idol's voluptuous bodies. After a little while, Gahyun slowly pries herself from your arms unmounts you, your cock soft enough that it flops out almost immediately, and her pussy squelches as it burps out some of your load. Giggling, she stoops down to clean your meat off with your mouth before rejoining you on the couch. The girls shift around, and you find yourself on your side facing Swan, as it is now Gahyun who presses up behind you, her breasts sticking against your sweaty back.

Swan hums soothingly, playing with your hair as her other hand traces along your sides along with Gahyun's, their touch making you shiver. You meanwhile suck on Swan's breasts like a baby, content in your vulnerability, feeling so safe and protected in their arms that you let down your barriers and indulge in the pleasures of being pampered again for the first time in a long time. The idols for their part seem more than enthusiastic about showering you with yet more attention, playing the part of your Mommies to perfection and lavishing you with love. And when you once again feel something stirring between your legs, the girls are purring with anticipation as they susurrate their soft bodies against yours, your pitiful moans only arousing them even more. Swan runs an idle fingertip along your shaft, causing you to twitch, "Does Mommy need to help her good boy drain his balls again?" You nod shyly, your submissiveness making Swan's lips part sultrily, "Well then, I imagine you want Mommy to sit on it again? You seem to enjoy just taking it..." Your cock bulges in answer, and both idols giggle. Swan huffs playfully, "Goodness Gahyun, what are we going to do with him?" Gahyun laughs, "Fuck him, of course!" Swan snorts before thoughtfully tapping her chin, "No, I think he should fuck me this time," she glances down at you, "I like making the cute ones work for it."

As the idols untangle themselves from you, Swan slips off her shorts, and finally pulls her top and bra up from where they had pooled around her neck. Fully naked, she leans back on the couch, allowing you to drink in the sight of her fertile body spread before you; from her pillowy breasts, down to where her healthy tummy curved into a prominent pubis that supported her puffy pussy. Trembling with nervous excitement, you hesitantly move between her legs until she stops you with a ginger to the forehead. She points downwards, "Eat your meal before you have your dessert," she chides you with a smile, before pressing down on the top of your head. Awkwardly, you crawl down her body, squirming around to support yourself properly as you breathe in the stench of your Mommy's sopping pussy. A layer of soft black hair graces her crotch, not long enough to get in your way, but it adds to the mature aura Swan was emitting. You lower your face down onto her sex, and timidly run your tongue up between her moist folds, lathering it with her honey. It tastes like an odd mixture of fish and piss, but your hindbrain correctly interprets it as delicious, and so you dig in with gusto. The salty tang of her pussy fills your mouth as you inexpertly lick up and down her labia, Swan holding your head in place with one hand as she gropes herself with the other, and you grind your crotch against the couch as you eat her out.

Eventually, Swan is satisfied enough by your efforts that she gently pushes your head from between her meaty thighs and hauls you back atop her voluptuous body. She was as soft as the cushions you had just been laying upon, her face flushed with arousal as she pulls you into a deep kiss while her arms clutch at your back. With the taste of both of her lips upon your tongue, you hump needily at her sex, prodding at her wet folds with your cock as you gormlessly try and enter her. With an amused sigh, Swan breaks off the kiss, and reaches down to guide you in, "No, wait like a good boy, just let me line it up and then-" she lets out a soft moan as you impulsively thrust forward the moment your tip enters her warmth, "Oh there you go dear, now you're inside Mommy..." The sultry heat of her pussy engulfs your shaft as you fill her until your balls press against her asshole, leaving you groaning her name as your cock pulses with pleasure. Swan pulls your head down into her breasts as you awkwardly start fucking her, your movements hindered by your inexperience, but your Mommy does not seem to mind. With one hand curling your hair while the other roams your back, she soothingly urges you to go slow, "Just like that dear, just focus on how warm and soft Mommy feels.." You try your best to keep your thrusts languid, you really do, but Swan's pussy was so wet it was dripping down your balls, and your body was unable to resist doing its best to plow her pillowy softness. Mommy is understanding though, and she locks her legs tightly around your waist as she urges you on, "That's it dear, its okay, Mommy knows how good it feels, Mommy is proud you lasted so long inside of her, so hush," she pushes your head against her neck so she can whisper in your ear while your body is fully meshed against hers, "Just let it out dear, it's okay to cum inside, Mommy will take responsibility, just relax and breed me," you moan plaintively as your thrusts grow long and deep, and Swan purrs happily, "Mhmm, there you go, breed me, breed your Mommy...oh there's so much..."

You shudder in Swan's loving embrace as the most powerful orgasm of your life rocks your body, your hips spasming as you try and unload as much semen as possible inside of her fertile pussy. The idol continues to murmur encouragement as pleasure gushes through you, her soft body feeling divine against yours as your overstimulated nerves make you writhe. You are left feeling drained and exhausted, your balls aching from the size of the load you had just spurted inside of Swan, sweat making your skin stick together as you lay atop her. Your Mommy does not try to move you though, instead letting you rest in her arms while your cock slowly shrinks until it is barely laying inside of her sloppy hole. Only once the after-effects of your climax fade does she release you, allowing you to stagger upright, looking down at her voluptuously formed body that you had so recently claimed with your seed. But lest you forget, you had two Mommies, and Gahyun was keen to remind you of that fact. Her kiss is hungry and demanding, her tongue invading your mouth and slaking itself upon your own. Your hands involuntarily come up and start groping her ample chest, which only seems to deepen her passionate kiss, until it feels like her tongue is going down your throat. You are left breathless and lightheaded, and you willingly allow Gahyun to pull your face down into her tits as she leans back against the couch, leaving you bent over with a nipple in your mouth.

Gahyun smirks down at you, "Suck on them, dear," she orders before glancing up, "Want to get him hard again for me?" she asks. You hear Swan shifting behind you as she gets up, "Oh sure, I don't mind cleaning up my own messes either," you feel her hands against your thighs as she makes you open your legs, "Adorable... oh wow, it is still leaking out, I wonder if I'll end up getting knocked up from this," Gahyun laughs, "Jihyo would love that," her gaze flicks down to you, "Did Mommy say you could stop sucking? Back to work dear!" Gahyun shoves your face back into her breast, force-feeding you her hardening nipple as you slurp messily upon it, "That's it, good boy!" Gahyun groans. Something warm and wet lazily traces its way up your shaft, making you start, but your Mommy keeps your attention firmly upon her while her counterpart toys with your manhood. Swan sucks and licks the sticky mess off of your cock, steadily nursing it back into its full length; your balls might still be recovering, but your member was already eager for more. Her tongue traces its way up your taint, as your dick is suddenly engulfed in a soft pressure that was rather familiar to you. You moan into Gahyun's boobs as Swan squishes her cleavage around your manhood, your entire length buried between her breasts as she uses them to massage you. Completely at her mercy, all you can do is mewl around Gahyun's nipple as Swan reminds you how stimulating a tittyfuck can be. Only when your cock starts to pulsate does she relent; after all, it was Gahyun's turn.

Gahyun wears a wicked smile as she bends over the couch, wiggling her ass enticingly as you shuffle over on your knees; your cock waving as it spears the air in front of you. Her smirk grows wider as your trembling hands grasp her waist as you clamber between her legs and into position, your dick rubbing between her modest cheeks against her slit. Your hotdogging grows more determined as Gahyun's lower lips moisten, your manhood eager to enjoy your Mommy's warmth once more; and so you angle yourself horizontally and press forward. For a second time, you simply end up prodding at your partner's folds, unable to figure out how to enter her, but before your frustration grows, Gahyun reaches between her thighs and grasps your meat, "Say please," she says, glancing back at you; and you do. She laughs, "So obedient! Can we keep him, Swan?" Your Mommy is kind enough to angle your cock properly though, even while she teases you relentlessly. You are unable to contain a shudder as your member slips inside of Gahyun once more, its tight folds gripping your shaft like a long-lost lover as you fill her pussy with every inch of you. Tentatively, you start to thrust, and soon discover why doggy was so popular a position, it was so much easier than missionary to get your strokes in! Gahgun giggles as you go to town on her from behind, expertly arching her back to drive you even wilder, "C'mon dear, Mommy likes it rough," she purrs, "So put your back into it! Make me feel good!" In all honesty, it was hard not to be a little rough in this position, the ease of motion and the cushioning of her ass cheeks made it difficult to resist slamming yourself against her as hard as you could. And while your balls were still gathering themselves for another load, your length was brimming with pleasure as you fuck your Mommy with youthful vigor.

The sound of your flesh slapping against Gahyun's was only barely louder than the noise her breasts made as they clapped together with every thrust. Your abs burn from overuse, your muscles unused to being put to use in such a particular manner and for so long, but you were unable to stop yourself from continuing to plow your Mommy; even as sweat pours down you. Her pussy was addicting, tight enough that your cock felt like it was in a vice, yet loose enough that you never had any trouble pulling out for a fresh plunge into her depths. Swan had joined the fun as well, squishing her curvaceous body up against your back, her hands stroking your chest while she urges you on; the feeling of her massive tits suctioned to your skin spurring you on. Gahyun suddenly begins moaning, hissing into the couch, "Yesssss, right there right there right there!" And when you start to fuck her even harder she snarls in approval, "Don't you dare fucking stop dear, just like that, Mommy is going-" she lets out a sudden gasp, and you feel her pussy spasming around your shaft; Swan purring with approval as Gahyun orgasms on your dick. You are left shocked and dazed, more than a little exhausted from your burst of effort, but still surprised that you had managed to make an experienced idol like Gahyun cum so easily... When she slips off your cock, her cunt leaves behind a layer of milky cream, sure evidence of your efforts.

Gahyun languidly turns around, smoothly moving to kiss you once more, and you are trapped between your two Mommies. both of them nibbling upon you while showering you with praise, "Oh good boy..." "Such a good boy..." "Just look at how nice you made Mommy feel!" "She left such a mess on your cock..." "It must have felt so good, didn't it?" "Mommy is so proud that you lasted so long..." "Your poor balls must be aching..." "Mmm... still hard?" "Oh... yes he is!" "Should we?" "We shall!" "Why don't we... you know?" "I think that's a proper present for our darling..." Your Mommies giggle knowingly as Swan slips around to your front and joins in devouring your lips, spittle slopping down your chin as her tongue joins Gahyun's in violating your mouth until your head spins.

Both Idols are smirking as they drag themselves down your chest, causing you to shiver as their rigid nipples trace along your skin. They kneel together in front of you, before wrapping one arm around each other's shoulders, and squishing their chests together, their ample breasts squirming against one another as they form a fleshy prison for your cock. With their free arms, the motherly pair grasp your ass and haul you closer until your tip is against the sweaty entrance to their conjoined cleavage. "Don't stop until your balls are empty, dear," Gahyun growls up at you, while Swan sighs, "Just relax, and let it all out for your Mommies, okay?" You nod hurriedly, before pressing forward into the supple pussy the idols made from their tits, your member buried in their soft flesh, its passage eased along by Gahyun's juices still coating your dick. Their breasts were large enough that you did not even emerge on the other side, and if anything it felt as good as their holes had, it was warm, moist, and oh so pliable. The sound of you plowing your Mommies' massive mammaries was appallingly loud, a dull squelching noise that erupted from between their cleavage with every thrust, but that just aroused you even more. You groan as you pump between their tits, holding onto their shoulders while you use their cleavage like the world's best fleshlight, your brain turning to mush as their warm pillows press in on either side of your manhood.

Your Mommies continue to pamper you even as you violate their chests with your cock, telling you what a good boy you were, saying how proud of you they were, how they just knew that you would be able to give them every last drop... The stimulation from their huge breasts was starting to get to you, and it was not helping that Gahyun and Swan would occasionally pause in their vocal encouragements to sloppily make out, their spit raining down onto their cleavage and seeping in to soak your penis. It was all too much. The idols' moans of pleasure, the burning heat suffusing your shaft, the texture difference between Swan's softer boobs and Gahyun's firmer ones, the feeling of their hard nipples scraping along your length as you thrust past them... You were going to cum, you were going to impregnate your Mommie's fat juicy tits, you were going to fill their cleavage with your sticky seed, you were going to drench them with your semen until your balls were dry. Your Mommies' eyes light up as you near climax, and they use their hands to drive you into them even harder, as a final groan escapes your lips and your eyes roll back as you finish. Ropes of jizz spew into the tight confines between Gahyun and Swan's breasts, dripping down onto their thighs while they gasp and coo with delight. Your orgasmic convulsions grow so strong with your cock head pops out from between its fleshy prison, showering their chests with your load and painting their chins with watery cum. With your cock now in the open the girls don't wait for a second, with first Swan taking your cooling meat into her mouth and slobbering all over it before letting Gahyun take her turn as well.

So that was how your first time ended, with two beautiful Mommies passing your messy cock between them as they sucked it clean; well, relatively clean. Of course they cuddled with you afterwards, pressing in on either side and purring with praise while your seed dried upon their flushed bosoms, giving you and each other more than a few kisses. Eventually you recovered enough to take stock of your surroundings, and you realize that you were in fact, no longer alone. Jihyo was curled up calmly in one of the chairs to the side of the couch, wearing not but an apron, blissfully ignoring the sizable wet stain on the fabric between her legs. She beams with pride when you notice her, clapping her hands in together, "So, how was your first time? Was it as satisfying as you thought it would be? Oh! Don't rush yourself dear, dinner is on the table, I'm sure everyone is absolutely famished!" You can only gawp as your cousin blabbers happily at you, just how long had she been there for? Just how much had she seen? But your stomach growls loudly at the thought of food, and your worries fade as you consider your much more pressing need. Somewhat awkwardly, the three of you untangle yourselves before following Jihyo into the dining room; if Gahyun or Swan were the least bit embarrassed at walking around stark naked around the other idol with her cousin's semen leaking from their holes and smeared across their chests, they did not show it.

After a somewhat awkward dinner where Jihyo merrily grilled you on every nasty detail of your first time, she cheerily shoos Gahyun and Swan out, though not before dressing them, and not before both of them gave you rather passionate kisses in goodbye. Then it was just you and your cousin Jihyo, who playfully undoes her apron, allowing it to pool at her feet; you had always known she was busty, but seeing her like this... Her tummy still bulged with pregnancy, and her breasts had swollen up even larger than you had ever imagined in your naughtiest wet dreams. Jihyo tickles your chin, "So, my darling baby cousin is now a man, I am so proud of you!" Somehow, Jihyo's praise hits you even harder than the others' had, and warmth fills your chest. Jihyo beams at your reaction, "Well, I'll stay for a bit and help clean up, but when I get back on Saturday..." she leans close, her engorged nipples brushing against your chest, "I want to see just how much you've grown up," she whispers, her eyes alight with lust for you in the first time you can remember. Then it is back to her usual teasing self, "Of course, Nayeon will want a turn, she's been sniffing your dirty underwear for like a year now. Oh, and I think Somi might be wanting to get in on the action as well, she's been masturbating to you for a while now..." she trails off, giving you an amused look, "What dear, are you so surprised? It tickles a girl's motherly instincts to see a boy with such obvious... issues."

As you go to bed that night, your heart is filled with a contentment that it had not been with in a long while. After all, you might have an absent mother figure, but it seems like you now had a plethora of Mommies to fill that void...

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters That Are Big of Heart and Dumb of Ass

Pairing: Vi, Sevika, Vander, Jayce, Loris, Ambessa x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, flirting, cuddles, kissing, sparing, muscles, protectiveness

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: This came to me today during my work break. I love himbos and whatever the female version of it is!

PURE OF HEART: She will do anything, put herself in any kind of danger to protect you. Vi is ready to get into a fight with anyone, stand up to anyone if they're bothering you. The bruises might be there after but she knows you'll help her get patched up. Depending on where the bruises are she might get some kisses.

DUMB OF ASS: Charges head first into any situation and that more often than not gets her hurt. One would think she learned to use hear head a bit more by now. And just in terms of headbutting her opponent. However she defends her attitude by saying that she's the muscle here, so you should let her take care of things her way.

PURE OF HEART: First of all she doesn't want anyone knowing she has a soft spot for you. She is very aggressive in her flirting both in public and in private but when you're up close, in her lap she will whisper sweet nothings into your ear. After which she will bite it. Don't blame her, she has an image to uphold.

DUMB OF ASS: Sevika has always been a badass in Zaun, but not for her brains. As respected as she is some also see her as a glorified bodyguard that's now dating her boss's cute secretary. She hears these rumors of course but they don't phase her when she's had a few shots of her favorite drink. Not her best moment.

PURE OF HEART: He is a family man to the bone. And he sees you as his wife even though you're not officially married yet. It won't stop him from grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into a kiss, his tongue tasting of tabaco and your favorite drink. Yes, your favorite, because he wants to taste good when he kisses you.

DUMB OF ASS: While Vander might be one of the de facto leaders in Zaun he's made his fair share of dumb choices. He's forgotten to lock up more than once, leading to the people thinking the bar open and he walked out in his underwear. What made it more embarrassing is that you were right behind him, wearing just his shirt.

PURE OF HEART: Everyone who met Jayce even once can see that he has a heart of gold. There isn't a challenge he won't try to take out, be it with brains or brawn. Knowing he's smart hasn't stopped you from visiting him a few times in the forge and appreciating the way the sweat rolls down his muscled body. He even flexes for you.

DUMB OF ASS: The amount of times he accidentally burned himself because he was too busy making out with you is astounding. He picks you up easily enough. But then backs up a bit too much, touching or stepping too close to the heat of the forge. Either that or he knocks important tools down when he places you on his table.

PURE OF HEART: No one's got your back like Loris has your back. He's is one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ask for, husband material really. Whenever he notices you're having a bad day he will beckon you over and scoop you into his big arms. You're not getting away from him or his cuddles until you feel better.

DUMB OF ASS: Among the Enforcers he has always been known as the muscle, and as more than a bit of drinker. But he also tells the best stories. He can be a little crude sometimes, flirting with you and forgetting there are other people in the room. The next morning everyone is smirking at him and he has no idea why.

PURE OF HEART: Ambessa will crush anyone who has anything bad to say about her, her family, or anyone in her army. Her strength is in her physique, strategy and loyalty of her people. But on occasion she can show her softer side, when it's just the two of you. It's one of her weaknesses, that cute smile of yours that she would do anything for.

DUMB OF ASS: One of her favorite ways to flirt, and have foreplay, is to spar with you. However that tends to attract more than a few eyes. She always acts insanely possessive over you in those moments, her head still in the fight but also getting in between you and her soldiers. it ends up looking a bit like a dance, much to everyone's amusement.

[satorella]

“𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥” [𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍]

You caught 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 attention at a soccer conference in Japan about a year ago, where you were hired to take pictures for the sports magazine you worked for. At first, it was just him being his usual arrogant and cocky self when he randomly gave you VIP tickets just because.

“Oh… uh… d-danke, Herr Kaiser…” [Thank you, Mr. Kaiser] You gave him a polite smile. He tilted his head, “Ah, you speak German?” “Just a little… enough for a tourist to get by.” You answered. He nodded and smirked, “Cheer for me, ja?” [Yes?] He pointed at the tickets in your hand as he turned to walk away. “Ja…” You gave an awkward little wave.

Neither of you had any idea where this would eventually lead though…

A couple days later, you woke up with your head throbbing, and Kaiser sleeping soundly next to you... naked under the sheets. You looked around, realizing you were in his hotel room, and both of your clothes were thrown carelessly all over the place; on the sofa, on the counter, the floor, your panties were even hanging on the damn lamp. Then it all started to come back to you. What was supposed to just be a few innocent glasses of champagne at the afterparty of his game, turned into a bit more… obviously. Once you came to, you slowly slipped out of his bed, searched for your clothes, and quietly left his room.

Fuuuuuck, did you really have a one night stand with Michael Kaiser?!?!

After a couple hours, you opened your suite door to...

"Guten Tag, Schöne." [Good day, beautiful.] Shit. "Herr Kaiser... hi... h-how'd you, um, know which room I was in?" You asked, looking both ways down the hallway. "I asked your little freund." [Friend.] He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway you left your, ah, kamera in my room. I figured you might want it back for work." He hands you your camera. "Oh! Danke!" You take the device. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I looked through some of the photos. I hope you don't mind." He finally says before leaning down to your ear, “I enjoyed seeing the ones from last night as well.” He whispers, making a shiver run down your spine. Pictures? From last night? The hell is this guy talking about? Confusion and curiosity etched on your face, you turned your camera on and clicked through the recent photos...

You, your colleagues, Kaiser and his team taking shots.

You and Kaiser pouring each other shots.

You sitting on Kaiser's lap.

You, and what looks like, grinding on Kaiser.

You, completely blissed out, taking a selfie with Kaiser kissing your neck.

You taking a picture with Kaiser in the elevator door's reflection; he stood behind you with his hands on your hips... while he was busy with your neck.

Kaiser leading you into his hotel room.

You, in Kaiser’s POV… sitting naked on the counter, eyes low and head thrown back as you laughed. (You honestly looked great in this pic… if it weren’t for you being naked😵‍💫)

Kaiser... taking body shots off you...

A mirror selfie with Kaiser positioned behind you... holding one of your legs up on the vanity... while he-

ALRIGHT, you got the point! You quickly shut off the camera and looked at anywhere else but him. He smirked, seeing how shy you suddenly got. "I-I'll, uh, delete these… don't worry..." You cleared your throat. "Just because you get rid of the evidence of our fuck-fest, doesn't mean I'll let you forget it." He shamelessly looks you up and down, "Are you free to do it again tonight?" You scoffed. The nerve of this guy!? "I-I'm not some bootycall, you perv! Du bist so ein perverser!" [You are such a pervert!] You whisper-yelled. He laughed at your attempt to insult him in his own language. "Really? But from what I can remember, all you could say was 'Micha! So gut! Bitte! Bitte mehr!' hm?" [So good! Please! Please more!] All the color drained from your face. “Okay. Guten Tag, und Auf Wiedersehen.” [Good day, and goodbye.] You tried to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with one hand, “Nein. Wait.” [No. Wait.]

…And that’s how your love story all began. Annoying way to meet the love of your life, right? Agh! Aber du hast trotzdem gelernt, ihn zu lieben. 💆‍♀️ [Agh! But you still learned to love him.]

Ever since that day, he subconsciously started talking to you more and seeing you more at soccer conferences; country to country. You were the only foreigner that could actually understand him and have a decent conversation with him in his native tongue. (Not to mention, you kept each other company at night.) At games, he would casually search the crowd for your familiar pretty face, knowing you’d be there; rocking his jersey, waving and screaming his name. You showed up for him at every game, wherever it was. Even though he was still kind of an ass, your constant presence started to make him feel… something. Something he’s always wanted, but would never allow.

Kaiser wasn’t one to catch feelings. He’d usually cut out anything that would distract him from his goals. Nor does he really have that many friends due to his arrogant and rude personality. Sure, he has his team, but ehh. Then there was the thing going on with you. He actually didn���t mind having you around. You weren’t clingy and annoying like most women were. And he enjoyed the sex, of course. But after a while, he started to notice that things between you started to become something a little more than just sex. Even just talking to you became part of his daily routine. You guys met up to have breakfast/lunch/dinner together if you were in the same city, and FaceTimed if you weren’t. There were times where he just craved to hear your sweet voice after a gruesome day of practice. Craved to hear your stupid jokes that weren’t even funny, but it was really your laugh that he wanted to hear when he was having some depressing late night thoughts. God only knows why you still stick around. He’s insufferable half of the time, but here you were… choosing to deal with his bullshit.

All of it.

With time, you started to become the support system, the companionship, the patience, and the love he’s always wanted, needed, but was too prideful and damaged to ever ask for. You understood him. You were always there for him. And for once in his lonely life, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Currently, you and Kaiser were in his hotel room, massaging his scalp as he laid his head in your lap. You came to surprise him at one of his home games in his home country, Germany, after telling him just a few days ago that you wouldn’t be able to make it.

“I could have flown you out here, meine Schönheit. Tsk.” [My beauty.] He lightly scolds you. “But that would’ve ruined the surprise, ja?” You smiled. “Tsk.” He grabbed your wrist and moved your hand to his neck, “Here. Massage me here.” He demanded. “So sassy, mein Schatz.” [My darling.] You chuckled, but did as he said, massaging over his blue rose tattoo. He closed his eyes. “Your touch, it’s relaxing, meine Liebe.” [My love.] He said, which was a little unusual. He was being sweet and focusing on you, rather than bragging about how his team wouldn’t have won without him; which was what he usually did after a win. You leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead as a reply. You weren’t sure how to respond to that… without saying the wrong thing and risking ruining his good mood. He opened his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you. He pulled your head back down, capturing your lips in a kiss. After a moment, he pulled away and caressed your cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Engel.” [I love you, Angel.] He said quietly, which was another rare occasion with Kaiser where he actually used his words to express his feelings. “And I love you.” You smiled, hovering your lips over his, “Are you okay?” “Ah, meine Liebe. I’m alright, just… tired from playing.” He said as he reached up to move a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His bright blue eyes were scanning your face, watching every expression and detail. “I’m glad you’re here...” He ran his thumb over your cheek, “I can always count on you.” He sat up and pulled you on top of him, his hands moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him.

“Michael!” You gasped as you felt his semi-hard poking the inside of your thigh. “I thought you said you were tired?” “I said tired from playing, mein Liebling. Not in other activities.” You playfully rolled your eyes. Ah, now you understand why he’s being so lovey dovey… he’s horny! He chuckled in his rough German accent as his hands began to roam your body. “I missed you these last few weeks.” “Ja, I can see that… or I mean, feel it.” You snickered. “Ah, mein Engel. Du bist so wunderschön.” [My Angel. You are so beautiful.] He praised you as he gave your jawline soft kisses. He grunted a little when he felt your lower half grind against him, causing him to squeeze the plush fat of your ass under your denim skirt. He wanted to be gentle, but that’s proving to be quite difficult for him right now. He needed you. “Mein Engel, bitte. Lass mich dich lieben.” [My Angel, please. Let me love you.] He pleaded quietly as his hands continued to roam your body, slowly lifting his jersey off of you. “Ich will dich.” [I want you.] You let the jersey fall to the ground, tilting your head to the side as he kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making you throb at your core.

Kaiser turned, laying you down on the sofa and positioning himself in between your legs. “Ich liebe dich.” [I love you.] He murmured as his lips began to trail down your neck, down your chest. He took one breast in his mouth, and sucked on your hardened nub. You let out a whimper, arching into him, practically smooshing your chest in his face. His tattooed hand journeyed down your body. “So Schön.” [So beautiful.] He hissed, pushing your legs open wider for him to have more room. He wasted no time in bunching your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side, dragging a finger up your slit, collecting your slick. His finger began tracing circles around your entrance before slowly pushing it inside you. “Ah, du bist so feucht für mich…” [You are so wet for me…] “Hnngh!” You moaned, nails digging into the sofa. “Komm für mich. Be the good girl I know you are.” [Come for me.] He murmured against your skin, lightly nipping you in random places. He inserted another finger in you, pumping at a slow, but good, pace and curling them both slightly to rub that sweet spot that always had you seeing stars. “M-Micha!” You whined, writhing beneath him. “Let yourself go on my fingers…” He said, his voice low and raspy. And like the good girl you were for him, you did as he said. As always. You shut your eyes as you came on his long, thick fingers; panting and moaning his name. He grabbed your chin during the middle of it with his free hand and forced you to face him. “Look at me.” He demands. Your eyes fluttered open, trying to stop them from rolling back from pure ecstasy. “That’s it. There’s my girl.” He lets you ride out your high, before slowly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

He reached between you to pull the knot on his robe loose, and lets it fall on the floor next to the jersey, then positions himself at your entrance. “Ich brauche dich...” [I need you...] He whispers as he pushes into you, letting out a deep groan and grunting. “Gott, du bist so eng.” [God, you’re so tight.] You let out a louder moan at the stretch, your nails digging even more into the sofa. He slowly slid out almost all the way before thrusting back in deeper. Harder.

“So gut...” [So good...]

Fuck, maybe you two should spend time apart more often.

© 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Join my tag list here!

[14dayswithyou]

How cutiesai made 14 Days With You

I've received quite a few requests in the past asking how I made 14DWY, what resources I used, how I organised my lore, etc. — so I figured I'd make one big post and share it with everyone else as well! It features a buuunch of helpful stuff I wish I'd known when I first made 14DWY, so hopefully this will help others too!

⚠ This is all copied & pasted from a Discord post I made back in early 2024! I'll also be adding to it over time, so feel free to check back every so often! ^^

What engine do I use?

14DWY uses the Ren'Py engine!

There are two preinstalled games (called "Tutorial" and "The Question") that give you a basic rundown on how to use the program!!

Zeil Learning's video called "Ren'py Tutorial For Beginners" is also a good place to start for those who have no idea where to begin with Ren'Py!

I also really recommend these Ren'Py resources:

Lemma Soft Forums

Ren'Py Discord server

Ren'Py subreddit

Zeil Learnings, ElaineDoesCoding, Visual Novel Design, and Ess Ren'Py Tutorials on YouTube

Searching through the "Ren'Py" tag on itch.io for community-made assets and resources (make sure to give credit if you use someone's asset(s))!

Feniks and Wattson offer some really helpful stuff!!

Not Ren'Py related, but helpful for creating a VN:

Obsidian and Notion for planning and worldbuilding

Visual Studio Code and Atom (comes preinstalled with Ren'Py iirc?) for scripting/coding

Pixabay and Pexels for royalty-free images and stock photos

DOVA-SYNDROME for music

Clip Studio Paint (paid) and Krita (free) for drawing

Toyhou.se to store your littol guys (If you need an invite code, I have over 300 to give away lmao ^^ Send in an ask to @cutiesigh if you'd like one!)

An itch.io account to upload your game for free and share it with others

General tips to keep in mind:

Make games for fun, not for fame. Too often, I see new developers create VNs with "trending tropes" because they see how successful it is and want the same level of popularity. As harsh as it sounds, this only makes your game feel hollow and superficial, and players will notice.

When using Ren'Py, it's better to have multiple .rpy files rather than putting everything into one large file!! It makes organising and finding things easier, and if something gets corrupted... at least you won't lose everything!

Plan everything beforehand, but give yourself room to expand and implement new ideas.

Start small and slowly expand over time. Don't start off with an overly ambitious project, as it can be disheartening when you put all this effort into something just for it not to gain any traction. Also, be grateful for your earliest supporters, as they're the ones who will lift your project off the ground!!

This is a personal preference, but I recommend starting off with itch.io as your main distribution platform. Most storefronts take a cut from your donations and revenue, and sites like Steam require a $100 fee just to publish your game on their platform. Itch is free, and you can even toggle off revenue sharing in your profile settings! (I like to keep it at 10% though, because I'm grateful for everything the site provides ♡)

If you ever need help with Ren'Py, you're always welcome to join the 14DWY Discord server and ping me in the help channel!

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hiii!! is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons with Vil, Idia, Malleus and Lilia where a female protagonist feels self-conscious about having stretch marks and/or cellulite, thanks (Sorry if it's not spelled well, English is not my native language)

COMMENTS: So... even though I myself am a woman, I genuinely never saw stretch marks or cellulite as something bad or ugly, and I still don't. So maybe making the characters share the same vision as me would be accurate? The only exception to complete indifference is Vil, but not in the way you might be thinking.

Btw, I didn't see any point in writing this in a context other than an already advanced relationship given the topic. Fortunately, the 4 characters are 18 years or older so it doesn't end up being... you know, too weird.

I explain at the end why I couldn't write anything for Malleus or Lilia. But despite that, I hope you and all like what I managed to write. ❤️

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud

TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader; Comfort; In a Relationship; Suggestive(?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 580 words per character

CONTEXT: I don't think it would make sense for two people to have this kind of intimate conversation outside of a romantic or even sexual relationship. So in that situation, he and you would be in a relationship.

This was an insecurity of yours from the beginning. After all, your boyfriend was none other than Vil Schoenheit. It would be worrying enough if he were a normal model, but he's not only a super model but one of the biggest in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He had already noticed that since you started dating you seemed more worried and less confident about your appearance and that was when he said to you:

“I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. If I wanted to date a model I could do it, but my standards in romantic relationships are others. Different from some of my colleagues in this field. I will always help you to further improve your image if you wish and feel comfortable with it. Please don't see this as me wanting you to change your appearance, but as an attempt to make you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.” He pauses for a second. “However, for some reason, there's something that bothers me about the possibility of making you start living the same lifestyle as me.”

But he would only get the answer to why that bothered him later.

“The truth is: you are my escape. I don't feel the pressure to be perfect with you because... you know I'm not and yet you look at me with more admiration than anyone else. You are my escape from the superficial and futile parts of my professional life. When you live in these types of environments, you start to lose track of what really matters and what really does you good. Thinking about you being swallowed up by this... and losing your genuine smile... because of me... I can't allow it! Please know that no opinion about your appearance matters other than your own. And it wasn't just that that made me fall in love.”

This may have made you feel more comfortable and confident about your appearance again, but as the relationship became more serious and you became more intimate, eventually your problem with stretch marks and cellulite began to affect your mood again.

At home, Vil had massage sessions from time to time not only to help him relax but also for other healthy effects it had on his body. He thought that now that he was dating you, maybe it would be interesting for him to buy massage products and for you to start having these sessions with each other.

“You deserve a massage probably even more than I do.” He tells you, referring to the hardships you go through with Grim and the others.

And that's when he realizes from your hesitation that something about your appearance has bothered you again. He asks you to tell him and that you can trust him. After all, if you couldn't, what kind of boyfriend would he be? And you end up talking about your stretch marks and cellulite.

“I see.” He says understandingly. “I've never had them myself, but I've met many women in the beauty industry who talk about it to each other. Not to mention the advertisements for products for it. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating and you felt less confident about your appearance? I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. Furthermore, from what I understand, these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs.” He looks at you seductively. “You don't really think I would have any kind of criticism if you gave me the honor of seeing these parts of your body, do you? Why don't you let me give you that massage? I'll show you what I truly find beautiful about you.”

At first you didn't even think about it. It was only when the relationship started to get more serious and you started to sleep together from time to time that you started to worry.

Especially when Idia started having less of a problem walking around you shirtless. And giving hints about how he would like to see you wearing his shirts, without pants.

One day he says he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but instead of asking why you hide your body so much, he asks if you still don't consider him worthy of seeing his girlfriend comfortably sexy.

“You never hid the fact that you like to see me shirtless.” He says while playing some game on the computer. “I also want to see you like that. Not necessarily shirtless, that's another level, but like, you know I don't like to embody the confident handsome guy who likes to walk around with little clothing on." His hair starts to turn hot pink.” But... I like how you look at me when I do. And what you say. Which I never understood ‘cause I don't even have good physics. But you do! You would be that character that every player simps for.” He sinks into his chair. “But I understand, getting that kind of look from me is disgusting...”

You may have your insecurities, but he has them too. And finally you feel the need and the comfort enough to reveal to him that that isn’t the problem, that you would also like him to find you hot as you find him and that the problem is your marks.

“What marks? Like scars? Don't tell me you have cool battle scars, like doesn't that make a person even sexier?”

You say you're not talking about scars, but stretch marks and cellulite.

“... Yah... sorry, I think I rolled a natural 1 in intelligence for this. What was that again?”

You say they are marks, irregularities and dimples in the skin and that he can search them on the internet. He does that.

“It says that these are natural things that don't do any harm. But they can impact self-image.” He researches a little more. “Wait! Are you trying to tell me that you find these strips and irregularities ugly enough to the point that you have to hide them? THIS?” He smiles mockingly “Oh no! How horrible! Your skin looks like... skin! What a tragedy!”

He will be very happy if you can laugh with him.

“As if I would even notice that. It says here that these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs. Do you really think that if I saw these parts of your body it would be little stripes and dimples that would catch my attention?” The pink in his hair becomes more intense. “I may be a shut-in but don't lump me in with those worms who define their standards based on adult videos. I can assure you that's not what you'll have to worry about if you take your clothes off in front of me.”

He finally looks at you with a seductive look and smiles confidently when he sees that you are flustered.

I really really really tried to imagine scenarios with Malleus or Lilia, but I couldn't think of anything very meaningful.

Malleus wouldn't understand the problem even if you tried to explain it to him because... it doesn't make sense to him. They're just marks. He also has marks, like, on his forehead. Is there something wrong with this?

And Lilia would just laugh for you thinking this is a problem and just tell you to forget about it.

They wouldn't understand, because it wouldn't make any difference to them at all. And that's it.

With Vil and Idia I was able to think of something because they are, like, from this generation, and because one is in the beauty industry and the other is, probably, chronically online, they can see where your insecurity comes from. But for someone like Malleus or Lilia, this type of insecurity has no basis whatsoever. I really don't know what to write with them.

Sorry. 🥺

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[biancadoes1]

I'm seeing many people spiral over Nic's story, because they are so sure that she was with Jake. This time, since i've been in this fandom, is the very first time that I am pretty sure that she was with Luke. Mainly because it was an Italian restaurant, not because of the position of the plates or the reflection in the glass (that is too much even for me). If she was really with Jake, why didn't she tag him? Since she seems to not have any problem sharing his stories or being seen with him? We have two option: either I'm dumb and I don't understand anything at all or, simply, it wans't Jake the one with her.

You're not dumb.

It's coming down to this: the people who get it, get it. The people who don't believe these two are with other people.

Plain and simple.

[csainzsgirly]

cs55 - “Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself”

bodyguard!carlos x reader, inspired by this wonderful moodboard by @sunflowerlando 💓

smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), masturbating (and use of toys/vibrators), age gap (6 years), he's trying to be cool but he's down bad fr.

tags: @softhecreator

His hands were squeezing your ass, his lips were on your neck. He was hot, truly hot. His name was Charles - which had sounded as good to you as 'stranger' did, because it sounded like a hot night in a club bathroom and not ever seeing each other again after. Just what you needed.

All fun ended when a hand wrapped around your arm and firmly pulled you away from the hot stranger, making you leave without saying goodbye. "What do you think you're doing?" you snapped, roughly pulling your arm back. People were looking at you, but you didn't care. "It's time to leave, because I'm not letting you embarrass yourself." His deep voice was audible even over the loud music. Your bodyguard towered over you, the jacket of his suit pulling taut around his biceps and his chest, stretching over the expanse of his back. "Get in the car, or I will take you there myself. Your father wants you home in half an hour," Carlos said.

"I was just having fun," you complained. "I haven't said goodbye to my friends yet." You twirl around on your heels, but you're swooped off your feet barely a second after. Dangling upside down with your bodyguard's hand on the back of your thigh - to keep you from flashing everyone while you hung over Carlos' shoulder - wasn't exactly what you had in mind as a graceful exit. After meeting Charles and making out with him on the dance floor like you were teenagers, you were sure you could escape from his sight for an evening. But your dad hired a bodyguard who saw everything. Nothing you did got by unseen by him.

It was annoying yet funny at the same time. He hated it when he had to watch you while you were going out. He hated it when you went on a date. He hated to see little boys, who didn't know who to appreciate a woman, all over you. His broodiness never seemed to leave him, causing him to look at you with a frown or a scowl etched on his face. "Are you drunk?" he barked. "No, sir," you replied with a roll of your eyes. "So I won't throw up. But if you shake me around like this upside down any longer, I might," you mutter. You yelped when Carlos put you back on your feet when you reached the car. You hadn't even noticed he held your coat in his other hand while he lifted you all the way to where the SUV was parked.

"Turn around," Carlos said, still having no reason for a small smile or to look you in the eyes. "Turn around," you mocked him, yet turning around to let him help you get your coat on. He opened the door of the car for you, looking away before his eyes could drop to your ass. He knew this was going to be a hard night when he watched you walk out of your room with the short, sparkly dress. Carlos got behind the wheel of the Bentley, fingers curling around the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. You were the death of him. He glanced in the rearview mirror as you moved a hand through your hair, then whining when you finally took the heels off your feet. He hated how short your dress was, and the fact that his fingers were itching to ride up the material further.

While your legs wrapped around his hips and the ruined material of your panties would grind against his growing erection.

"You're such a cockblock," you complain after a couple of minutes on the road. Carlos looks at you again through the mirror, but doesn't respond. "You're the reason why I haven't gotten laid in like... three months," you continue, knowing you were pushing his buttons. "Like I said, your dad wanted you home before two," Carlos said, while he knew he was taking the bait. "You're no fun," you continue, ignoring his previous words. "I'm plenty of fun. I just don't mix business and pleasure," his voice sounds sharp, almost judging. You're used to it by now. "Oh look, a boring cockblock," you sigh, resting your head against the leather seat. "I'd call it a smart cockblock, but sure." You snorted at his response. "Sassy tonight, aren't you," you catch his eyes again in the mirror before he turns onto the porch of your family's residence.

"You're a pain in my ass, as always," Carlos says, stopping the car and turning off the engine. "Get your shoes," he adds, looking over his shoulder and watching you look back at him stubbornly. The banter, the teasing, the mocking, he loved it. He pulled the door of the backdoor open to let you out. You scooted over to the edge of the seats, reaching for your heels to put them back on your feet. Carlos sighed softly, taking the patent leather pump with the red sole from you, the detail of the red colour another simple, stupid thing that caused his slacks to tighten. He didn't miss the way you shivered when his fingers brushed over your ankle. He put your shoes on without a word, offering his hand to help you step down. His nostrils caught a whiff of your cherry perfume.

"Thank you," you softly said, looking up at him, well aware of the ten centimeters that are probably between the two of you. Carlos stepped back to let you walk by, closing the door of the car and locking it as he watched you walk towards the door. The glittery ends of your dress were hanging just below your ass, teasing him some more. The gentleman he was, he waited downstairs, his back towards you, while you walked upstairs, a hand on your thigh attempting to hold your dress down enough, but he knew it would be too short anyway. He knew your routine by heart: kicking off heels, getting rid of dress, wash off make-up, do skincare, two glasses of water, let phone charge on nightstand, set alarm, go to sleep - either in an oversized shirt and panties, shorts and a top, or just panties.

You knew Carlos would wait before he was sure you'd be in bed, because he was probably still traumatized by the one time you walked out of the bathroom at the end of the hall, almost naked. His jaw had clenched, his hands were folded together behind his back, knuckles white from squeezing his fingers, and his eyes had definitely dropped to your tits. But you were forbidden territory, like he was for you. It was tempting, very tempting. A part of you was wondering what was underneath that layer of broodiness. He was always so calm and collected, annoyed with whatever you did, but you were sure a part of him secretly cared. Because you trusted him, no matter where you went. But he was a pain in your ass as well, because fuck, there was a deep itch inside you, and he didn't let anyone satisfy it.

Carlos went upstairs to take his usual position close to your door. He had the night shift whenever you went out. By the orders of your father, he stood by your door the whole night. It was silent in the large residence, his footsteps audible on the marble floor. He eyed your door, which was slightly ajar. He heard you stumble around the room quietly, but the light on your nightstand soon turned off, silence returning in your bedroom. He remained in his position for a couple of minutes before wandering around the hallway. He passed your door not much later, standing still when he heard something. Carlos halted, listening. It was a low, buzzing, pulsing sound, rustling of sheets following, your breathing pattern changing. His jaw slacked, knowing he should just continue, get out of hearing distance, but he couldn't move.

The door was left ajar far enough for him to look inside your room, to see your silhouette on the bed, hand clutched in the sheets while the other disappeared between your thighs. Carlos' lips parted with a soft breath, feeling the heat creep up his neck, his button-up suddenly choking him. He was no stranger to sex, no stranger to women's bodies, but this felt too intimate. He shouldn't stay and watch, but his eyes couldn't pull away from the scene in front of him. Your back arched off the bed while the vibrator pulsed in and out of you, the silicon top nestled against your clit. Your curtains weren't fully closed, the moonlight that entered through the window emphasizing your silhouette. He could see your hard nipples as your chest rose with more erratic breaths. If he held his breath, he'd hear the squelching noises of the toy fucking your wet cunt.

He was going crazy. His cock was throbbing against the seam of his slacks, the material becoming uncomfortably tight. Carlos planted his hand against the wall, unable to stop watching you pleasure yourself. It was so hot, so sexy, so raw and beautiful. Soft whines and moans escaped your mouth, your hips bucking in desperation. He imagined how your snug pussy would feel around him, how pretty you'd look underneath him. Carlos was nearly embarrassed by the way he stayed as still as he could, not making a sound, not wanting to disturb you and stop the show you were putting up for him. A side of him figured you were doing this on purpose, just to rile him up even further. At the moment, he didn't care why you left the door open. He watched your body tremble as you came, the vibrator against your clit making you convulse with sensitivity. For a moment, it was quiet, and he was almost relieved.

Carlos leaned his head against the wall, gnawing on his bottom lip as he watched your chest rise and sink with a few deep breaths. Sheets rustled as you turned around, and he was sure you'd put the thing in the drawer of your nightstand and go to sleep. He needed to stop watching, but once again, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not missing how you got on your knees, whimpered when you turned the vibrator on again and tortured your overstimulated clit some more. Carlos nearly groaned when you turned on the fake dick as well, and it was pulsing, thrusting again against your pussy before you let it slip inside. Carlos turned away, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall. He needed to turn around and take a breath, because he couldn't look at his boss' daughter this way.

He barely said a word to you for a week. You didn't ask why he was excessively moody with you, but you definitely knew. You knew what you had done to him. It was making you smile at the thought, knowing he was struggling whenever he picked you up from the gym, a dinner with your friends, or a simple grocery run. Carlos couldn't look at you, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to wipe the scenes of you fucking yourself and cumming while he was watching, from his mind. He really tried to put more distance between the two of you, but you could see his own plan failing. You could see it in the way he held your eyes when you looked at him through the mirror in the car. You noticed it in the way he held you to his chest whenever you were walking in a crowded area, the way his eyes raked over you when you were dressed up for an event, the soft compliment that slipped from his lips before he could stop himself.

"Do you want a drink?" the question threw him off guard as you both reached the top of the marble stairs in your family's residence. Your parents were on a cruise for two weeks, they had left this afternoon. It meant that the house would be empty, except for the staff. "Since when are you making drinks in your room?" Carlos asked. "I just keep a bottle of rum there, that's all," you chirped, twirling around on your heels, your dress floating around your ankles. "I'm still working," he said, pushing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Weren't you also working when you were watching me for an hour last week?" you ask, cocking your head sideways while looking up at him. Carlos felt his heart stop in his chest for a couple of seconds, watching you close the distance between the two of you.

"Watching you is my job, sweetheart," he replies. "Hmm," you hum, turned around and walking into your room, reaching into one of the cabinets to get the bottle of rum and two glasses. You poured the liquor in for him anyway, handing him one of the glasses. You laughed a little as he remained in the hallway. You took a sip and leaned against the door, your heels left in the closet already. His eyes were so intense. You had felt them on your body when he watched you. It made you feel hot all over while the silence lingered between you. "I will need your help to unzip my dress," you spoke up, leaving your empty glass on the coffee table in the corner. Carlos knew he should say no, ask one of the maids to help you - and then leave, but he found himself stepping over the threshhold and into your room.

His eyes quickly scanned the bed, the desk against the wall, the floor to ceiling windows, the walk-in closet with a huge mirror. You stood in front of it, taking your earrings out before unclasping your necklace, rings dropped next to it. Carlos towered over you as he looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, brushing your hair away from your back to find the top of the zipper. His fingertips tickled a little in your neck before he took the zipper down agonizingly slow. "Did you enjoy watching me?" you ask, eyes burning through his soul when he looked up at the mirror again. There were many ways he could answer that question. He went over them in his head, reaching the end of the zipper. His fingers gathered your hair behind your shoulders again, watching the way the material of your dress loosened around your body.

The straps fell down your shoulders, but you made no attempt to keep them up. You let the dress pool around your ankles, feeling comfortable despite his broader, bigger body hovering over you. "I always enjoy watching you," Carlos' voice rasps in your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat as his lips brush over the shell, finding the sensitive skin beside the lobe. One of his hands lift to nestle in your hair in the back of your neck, a gentle, yet strong, tug on your roots tilting your head aside. Goosebumps cover your flesh when his lips kiss your neck. "But I loved the part where you became desperate to cum while that toy was fucking you." Carlos watched you shiver. "Not so mouthy now?" he hummed. "Give me permission to touch you, mi reina," he breathed, making you nod quickly. "Please," you say, a little breathless as well. His grip on your hair tightened, making you tilt your head back as far as you could.

His palm glided from your throat to your neck, finding the swell of your tits before cupping one of them, moving on to your stomach. "You're so goddamn beautiful," Carlos nips at your neck again, groaning when he feels your ass against his crotch. "I had to stand and watch pathetic boys beg for your attention," he continues, his voice alone enough to harden the pearls of your nipples. "Watch you dress up in the prettiest dresses, but I couldn't touch you," he mutters, hot, open mouth kisses covering your skin. "Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself, but breaking a contract never felt this good." You slipped from his grip, but only to turn around and face him. Your hands grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket to close the gap between your bodies, your lips colliding in a hard, long-awaited kiss.

You could feel through his slacks how hard he was, your hands leaving his chest to pad down his abs, finding the leather belt and undoing the clasp. Carlos slipped his arms out of the jacket, revealing his athletic, muscled form in the crisp white button-up he was wearing. You groaned at the sight of his vest with a holster underneath. A man wearing a gun has never been this hot before. He captured your mouth with his again, feeling your hands unbuttoning his slacks, zipping the material down and slipping inside to find his growing erection. "Shit, baby," he breathed as he watched you sink to your knees in front of him, the right side of your body angled to the mirror. He looked into the reflection of it, watching you free his cock from his Calvins. Carlos grunted lowly at the sight of your doe eyes eying his cock, nimble fingers wrapping around the girth.

Your mouth was watering at the mere feeling of the veiny shaft, fingertips exploring the ridges and veins that would feel so good inside you. Your saliva wetted the palm of your hand before you started stroking him slowly, a sigh falling from his lips. Carlos gathered your hair in his fist, watching you wetten his cock some more before you took him into your mouth. You moaned at the weight of him on your tongue, tasting the salty drops of pre-cum when you swirled the muscle around the tip. You felt the corners of your mouth straining when you took more of him, licking and sucking what you could take. Your lipgloss he had seen you reapply throughout the night was smudged already, smeared around the base of his cock when you tried to take him completely, the sounds of you gagging on him making throb against your tongue.

Carlos started taking control when you established a comfortable rhythm, his abs contracting as he listened to you slurping and sucking his cock, occasionally letting him hit the back of your throat. He looked sideways into the mirror again, eyes glued to your head bobbing up and down, his cock left glossy with your saliva. He pushed you further down, gently holding you there and seeing his cock bulge in your throat. You let go with a gasp for air, a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock before he pulled you up. Without a word, he lifted you up as if you had the weight of a feather, walking you to your bed that was still so perfectly made up. You scrambled up to your knees when he dropped you on the mattress, watching him stand near the end of the bed, finally getting his vest off and placing the gun on your desk.

His cock pulsed when he looked at the red apples of your cheeks, your bambi eyes and your pretty being waiting for him. Your fingers teased your nipples, other hand threatening to drop between your thighs if he let you wait any longer. A soft breath passed your lips when he finally got rid of his shirt, your eyes drinking in his toned body, his hard abs, the broad planes of his chest and biceps you want to put your teeth in. Your hand wraps around his cock again, but his palm finds the side of your neck, his lips leaving a delicious kiss on your mouth before he pushed you onto your back. A laugh escapes you when his hands curl around your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed. Carlos nearly folds you in half after he put your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hand guiding his cock through your slit. His eyebrows furrow together with a groan, watching your sticky wetness ooze from your hole with a mere brush of the tip over your clit.

"You got this wet from sucking me off, hmm?" he asks. "It better feel as good as it did in my mouth," you reply, jolting a little when the big head teases your cunt, slipping through last minute to tease your clit instead. You were in heaven as soon as he entered you, filling you up to the brim, stretching you out. It had you gripping the sheets from the start. Carlos watched his cock split you in half, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust before finding a pace that had you arching your back off the bed and your fists squeezing the sheets so tightly in your palms. He was rewarded with an 'oh my god', ah's and oh's following that told him not to change anything about the rhythm. Your eyes rolled back as he pushed your legs further to your chest, breathless cries mixing with the sounds of your bodies slamming together, the wet noises of your cunt gripping his cock and sucking him in.

You would say you've had good sex more often, but this was better than good sex. You were on the brink of a release embarrasingly fast, your body doing a weak attempt to meet his thrusts. He was in you so deep, so hard, and you were so wet, you were sure you were leaking down your thighs. He hadn't even taken off your panties, he had simply slid them aside. The material was begging to be removed from your body, the seam threatening to break against the side of his cock. "Such a perfect little pussy," Carlos breathed. "I imagined how fucking wet and tight you'd be," he continued, fuelling the heat in your lower abdomen. "Don't stop," you moan as he let your legs fall open, but only to wrap them around his hips, his hand having free access to your clit. "Carlos!" you cried out, his cock hitting you g-spot over and over again. You were a writhing mess underneath him, body tensing up as you felt your orgasm so close.

Carlos felt your pussy squeezing him, your wetness soaking him. Nothing could prepare you for the peak your body reached, freezing your muscles for a split second before the warmth washed all over you, pleasure dotting your vision, curling your toes and making your legs shake as you gave in. His cum filled you up, cock throbbing inside you. Carlos looked at you through hooded eyes, his hot breath softly ghosting over your face. His lips pressed to your neck again, watching you catch your breath as well. He slowly pulled out of you to get a couple of tissues and clean you up, eyes darkening again at the thought you'd go to bed with your pussy filled with his cum. He reached for his underwear to pull on again, soon finding you in front of him, pulling him down into a kiss. "Don't go," you whisper against his mouth. "We need to do that again in the morning," you add, making him laugh softly.

His lifts you up with ease, groaning as he feels your nipples against his chest. Carlos drops you on the bed again, hovering over you with slight hesitation. Would his boss find out if he was inside your room instead of guarding the door in front of your room? "I need you to fuck me in the car," your words distract him from the thought, nails tickling his chest. "And on every surface in the house," you continue, flipping the two of you around, so you're straddling him. Carlos looks up at you with admiration, making your heart beat a little faster. You lean over him, looking into his eyes. "Starting with my father's mahogany desk," you whisper, not missing the way his lips curled up in a grin.

[slimybeth69]

Girl Dinner

@pedrospookie made the cutest fucking mood board for this fic, she also gave me so much inspiration for this! Let's all thank her for her perfect brain.

Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose

Rating: explicit -

kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions besides having hair long enough to hold and fall into your face, the reader is actually crazy, talks to herself- hears little voices in her head. You gotta know this going into it)

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.

w/c : 9k (whoops)

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

warnings/tags: non-con/dub-con/ altered mental state(?) throughout the entire thing. stockholm syndrome, violence (reader and Joel both get hurt) Joel is an unwilling participant... or is he? cockwarming, unprotected P in V, dirty talk- more to come.

authors note: Hey! I know a lot people get icked out by the idea of non-con or dub con, and that's fine, but I like it, so I'm gonna write this. I don't think any of this should be acted out ITRL. DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE!! This is your last and final warning just so everyone is aware of what's going on. this is unbeta'd, poorly proofread and probably incoherent. I love you all so, so, so much.

The weather is finally starting to change, it's not as hot as a pigs asshole anymore, and you wake up feeling refreshed, rather than sticky and sour from sleeping in a pool of your own sweat all night long.

The first thought that comes to your head though isn't the changing weather, or how you'll eventually need to break out your warmer clothes soon, nope— you don't give a shit about any of that.

It's just Mister-man that you're thinking about.

He might be the most pretty thing you've ever seen. With his shoulder length, brown and gray curls, and his patchy facial hair that matches so nicely. The thought of how rough and scratchy it would feel against your tongue makes your spine tingle.

Mister-man is a big boy. Hefty, broad, and looked so strong whenever he came into the mall.

You've been watching him for a while. He comes around every three or four days snooping in all the stores for supplies.

It's like he doesn't even know you're here…or if he does, he doesn't care. Rude! You're a pretty girl!

He's just coming to take our stuff, just like the rest of the monster-men out there. If he finds us, he might wanna take-

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" You put your hands over your ears, even though those voices just get louder when you do that.

Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…

Yes, he would. He's a man.

"It's too early for this," You grumble, sitting up in your bed.

The mattress store is nice and clean, just how you left it last night before you crawled into bed. You think about how it would be alarming if it wasn't exactly how you left it before you went to bed. You did your nightly walk-through to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and that there weren't any extras hanging about.

As you get dressed, you think about what the dark voice was about to say. You know exactly what Mister-man would try and take from you if he found you. What all the other men in this fucking place want from you.

It's hard to make any of that matter as you skip to your hiding spot in the rafters above the food court. That's where he always enters from, even though the easier entrance with less glass and boards to climb through is on the other side of the mall.

It's a good thing you set up a trap there too, if he comes in through that entrance, at least you'll hear the snare go off and hopefully get to him in time to get his gun and knife.

Mister-man is a creature of habit, he doesn't like to switch things up, Sug. He'll come through this door.

He might. He might not. Mister-man might be playing your game better than you, kid.

"Well then, it's a good thing I thought of everything," you murmur, climbing up the discarded scaffolding to get into the rafters.

It's not scary up here, you like the thrill of knowing if you made one mistake—

Goner!

Splat!

"I've never fallen though!" You giggle, settling in to the perch just above the now blown out glass doors. It's a comfortable little spot, and you've arranged some blankets and pillows from the mattress store up here so you can nap if you want. There are some snacks, and bottles of water in case you have to stay up here for more than just a couple hours, keeping an eye out for Mister-man.

People must have stayed here in the mall during the outbreak, or right after because the doors are boarded up the best they can be, and the tables and chairs from the food court are set up all around like a barricade.

It was perfect, less work for you to have to do, and no one else bothers to come in here anymore— it's either too far, too hard to get too, or not worth the pay out.

Not for our lovely, handsome, soon to be perfect, Mister-man; the reason he comes every week is so sweet.

You wondered why he kept coming back when there really isn't much to scavenge anymore: every single store had been picked through before you got here, and you went and took the last of whatever anyone else didn't want or need and squirreled it away in a nice hiding spot.

Mister-man came every three or four days-- so that he could sit his ass in a comfortable recliner for a couple hours.

Remember that time he took a nap?

"Of course I do! How could I forget?!"

It's the cutest thing, and you love to watch him relax. Rest. Let his guard down for a little while.

"Slept like a lil baby that day," you mumble, feeling the heat spread up your neck and behind your cheeks. It's impossible to not smile at the memory of Mister sleeping in his chair, arms behind his head, snoring loudly.

His hair was real soft...'n he smelled so..

Why does he let us get so close? It's gotta be a trap.

Oh shut up, maybe he wants us to get close!

"I don't think he can hear me too good," you breathe out to the empty mall. The sun is starting to shine directly in your eyes— which means Mister-man will be here soon. "Always lookin' over his left shoulder. He never looks over his right, me thinks he can't hear outta that ear."

Mister has been coming for a couple months. He first started when the snow started to melt. And he kept coming through the spring when everything was wet and soggy, and he'd traipse mud through the mall like this wasn't your house!

That's how you knew he had been there though, so you waited to see if he'd come back-- and he did.

Mister-Man kept coming, even when the summer got so hot it was almost unbearable. Venturing outside was almost dangerous, but Mister always came.

Just to sit in his chair.

The air is filled with the sounds of birds singing, and insects buzzing in the lazy, summer heat. The mornings aren't too bad anymore, but the afternoon is still sweltering.

The late afternoon's are even worse when the heat finally settles, and everything gets sticky, and feeling all wet even though it's not wet outside! It's hot, but the air feels thick and damp somehow.

Awh, looks like he ain't coming today, Sug.

Good-fucking-riddance.

"He'll show up. If not today… tomorrow…or the next day. Or next week! He always comes, sillies. Gettin' me all nervous for nothin—"

Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.

Mister-man is coming. You can hear him before he even crawls through the hole in one of the boards. He has to slide the table he sets up every time he comes and goes.

Once he's upright, brushing himself clean of any debris that he might have picked up on his crawl into the mall, he starts to walk.

It's not hard to stay quiet, you know exactly where the spots that creak are, and where things might break and fall apart if you were to put too much weight on them.

It's easier to follow him around as he slinks through the abandoned shopping center than you thought, as long as you stay on his right side. You've been watching and learning, and had a long time to figure him out.

Mister is so cute, walking real slow with his back to the wall, his head on a constant swivel. You wanna call out to him and tell him it's just the three of you in the mall.

He continues to sneak very quietly.

Can't hide from us.

"He sure can't," you giggle, almost silently.

Mister-man pauses, and looks over his left shoulder, as if something caught his attention. He looks all around, head twisting in either and all directions. At one point, he looks right up at where you're standing.

It's like he's looking right at you, like he can see you flitting through the rafters right above him.

Mister-man just shakes his head, as if he was hearing things, and continues onward towards the furniture store.

Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.

"He sure can't."

Mister doesn't make it inside the furniture store today, unfortunately for him.

When Joel wakes up, his head is fucking pounding and— he's upside down. Shit.

Not again.

"What the fuck?" Joel croaks, his hands feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as he tries to lift them from where they're dangling over his head. His shoulders hurt, and his back aches. His ankles feel like they're on fire.

There isn't much he can do but hang here, waiting for his vision to un-blur and for the throbbing in his head to go away.

Probably get gutted like a pig.

Finally, after blinking a million times, Joel can see things clearly.

You- a young woman- with a gun in your hand, another strapped to the outside of your thigh, and a fucking machete strapped across your back.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Joel shouts, his hands now easily flying to the holster—It's empty. The pack he had been carrying on his back is gone too.

Joel watches as you look at him like he should already know what you're doing: a half smile plastered onto your pretty lips, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, couching in front of his pack.

"Lookin' through your stuff," you croon to him.

Joel's blood boils. What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck are you? How did you manage to get him all strung up, hanging from the ceiling?

He says nothing as you stay picking through his backpack, taking out every single thing he has in there. His map, compass, the backup flashlight, the gas-mask— which you're putting on?

Why? There weren't any spores in here— were there?

"This thing is fuckin' cool!" Your voice is muffled, and you stand up straight. Then you hold your hands out at your sides, and spin in a circle.

"Hey!" Joel barks at you, flinching away from the revolving barrel of your pistol with each rotation you make. "Stop swinging that thing around, would ya'!?" Joel shouts as you continue to spin.

You stop suddenly, and stare at him through the big, dark lenses of his gas mask. "You know all about swinging around, don'tchya?" You giggle at him.

Joel literally swings back and forth as you say this, very slowly spinning around as he sways, and the throbbing in his head only makes him more angry.

"Cut me the fuck down, keep what'chya want— I don't got time for all this," Joel grumbles, lifting his head so he can look at the rope tied around his ankles. It's a good knot, and without a knife, Joel isn't going to get down on his own, not without his knife.

He reaches behind him to feel for it on his belt—

"Lookin' for this?" Your still muffled voice questions Joel as his fingers brush across the empty space on his waist where his knife would be.

He tips his head almost all the way back, and then to the side so he can see you— and is greeted by the sight of you, still in the gas mask, and now, holding his knife by the blade with your thumb and index finger. All he can do is sigh, close his eyes and wonder how a trip to sit in his favorite recliner led to this.

"Now, I ain't really wanna hurt'chya— I was hopin' you was gunna say knocked out long enough for me to cut'cya down and—"

Joel doesn't wanna hear anymore. "Just cut me the fuck down— people are gon' come lookin' for me if you—"

You apparently don't wanna hear what Joel has to say anymore either, because you start to talk over him. "—we're just gunna go—"

Joel doesn't care, doesn't want to listen to your muffled voice— he wishes you would take his stupid, fucking gas mask off and talk to him like a normal person. He's gotta be able to barter with you somehow. "—don't let me go. If it's food 'n water ya' want, I can get ya' some—"

The two of you are just talking louder, and louder, until the both of you are shouting over the other, neither one of you actually hearing what the other is saying.

"—let me go!"

"—stay forever!"

The two of you stop and stare at each other in silence for a moment. Joel can't really comprehend what you just said, "Stay forever?"

"Yep!" You exclaim happily.

Did he say that aloud?

"You 'n me, together forever, Mister-man," you sigh dreamily at him.

It's not what you say, it's how you say it— like you really believe what you've just said. Like…it was something you had been thinking about, for a while.

"Huh?" Is all he can say, still slowly swaying and spinning. He has to turn his head almost completely around before he whips it to the other side, he wants to keep his eyes on you at all times. You seem un-fucking-predictable.

"Ain't'chya so excited!?" You squeal, and it makes Joel's head ache.

"Gon' fuckin' strangle you once I get down from here," Joel half grumbles, half chuckles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching you rummage around for something in his bag.

"That's why I gotta do this," your muffled voice sounds sad as you pull something out and whip it behind your back, hiding it, and that makes Joel nervous.

"Do what?" Joel tries to see what you pulled out of his backpack.

"Gotta close your eyes," you shrug your shoulders, and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Joel blinks at you, just staring at him through the gas mask. He's not completely unsettled by the sight of you in a gas mask, he's seen women wearing them plenty— it's the fact that you have him completely at your mercy and he can barely see your fucking eyes.

He's so fucking stupid for coming out here alone all the time, Tommy and Ellie both warned him- both told him that something would happen to him out here. He'd hurt his back— or worse. And no one would know where to find him- because this was his secret hideaway. A place to escape the responsibilities of being a dad, a grandpa, and a big brother.

Joel loves Ellie, JJ and Tommy more than he ever thought possible— and loves that he got to be around them everyday— it was just starting to be a lot.

If Joel had the means to move that recliner into his house in Jackson, he would have— but it's too big, too heavy and way too fucking far.

Now look at him, upside down!

"Ya' ain't gunna wanna see it comin'." You give Joel a small warning. "Please just close them," you whine, starting to nervously dance on your tip toes.

"No." Joel growls, arms still crossed over his chest.

"'Kay!" You exclaim, running over to Joel. "Warned ya'!" You pull the brick Joel had put in his pack for emergencies.

"Wait! Wait—"

Cripes-all-mighty, Mister-Man is heavy as hell!

It takes everything you have inside of you to drag him to the mattress store. By the time you get there, your shirt is soaked through with sweat, your hair clings to your forehead and the side of your face. Every muscle aches and feels as if it's being torn from the bone it's clinging to.

Huffing and puffing, you drag him through the sea of mattresses until you get to the staircase that leads into the basement office.

"Sorry, Mister-Man," you grunt and push him down the stairs—

He's fine! You lined the stairs, and the bottom where he landed with mattresses a couple days ago-- after you brought his favorite recliner down here. All by yourself. Did it just for Mister-Man, because you want him to be comfortable! You want him to feel nice, and relaxed, and safe here with you.

Once you have him nice and secure to his chair— you wait.

He hit his head pretty hard when you snared him— you didn't think of that part. Then he had to go and wake up! Like a dumb idiot! He could have just stayed asleep, then you wouldn't have had to hit him again!

Thank goodness for that brick he keeps in his backpack, which, what the fuck is that about? It's a good weapon, but it's heavy, and made his backpack harder to carry than you would like to admit.

You were also lugging that giant of a man around, ya' did good, Sugar.

Yeah, ya' did good, kid.

You wrap your arms around yourself and sigh, "Thanks."

You wanna tell the voices in your head that you love them, but you don't really always love them. Sometimes you hate them, and wish they would shut up, and sometimes they don't talk when you need them to— finicky fuckers! And they almost never see eye to eye, and it's exhausting. So you just say thanks.

Mister-man is so pretty up close. Even more pretty than you could have ever thought or dreamed of. He doesn't look like he's shaved or cleaned up his beard in the last couple days, and his hair was combed back away from his face when he got here today— but now it's a mess, matted to his forehead in drying blood, falling into his eyes.

"Shit," you whisper, taking in the sight of him all beat up—

Sug, you gotta clean him up— make him pretty again.

The sweet voice is right!

Mister-man looks so sad all bloody and a mess.

"I'll be right back," you murmur and press a gentle kiss to his forehead through his blood stained hair, and then double check all of the ropes around his wrists and ankles. 

He's secure, time to go get him lookin' nice again. 

When you come back, your bag is filled to the brim with supplies from the the multiple stores that still have things inside them. You got him a comb, and a spray bottle that you already filled with clean water. You were able to find some clean clothes that look like they'll fit him. 

He's also awake. 

"Hi, Mist—"

"Let me go." 

"—er-man!" You finish through the interruption. "I'm gunna clean you up now, and then we can have dinner. 'Kay?"

Mister-man stares at you.

"Oh!" You rip the gas mask off and place it on his lap. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to steal it. I promise." You cross your heart with one index finger. 

"Let. Me. Go." 

You wince with each barked word. "I. Don't. Wanna." 

"If I ever get outta here, m'gon' fuckin' kill ya'," he growls. 

You frown, pinch your eyebrows together and mock his thick, country twang. "M'gon' fuckin' clean ya' up real good, 'n then me 'n ya' can have fuckin' dinner." You growl back at him. 

"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"

"Why!? So you can kill me?" You shake your head at him, giving him a small smirk. "Not gunna happen, Mister." 

His eyes go wider than you've ever seen them, as if he might be nervous. "What th'fuck you gon' do to me then, huh?" 

"Clean. You. Up. Then. Have. Dinner. Did I say it too fast the first time, or can you really not hear too good?" You cock your head to one side, and look at him quizzically.

"Th'fuck did ya' just ask me?" Joel feels his chest going tight-- this hasn't happened in fucking years. It can't be happening right now.

"I talk real fast sometimes, and I don't realize it, and so sometimes all my words come out real jumbled to--"

"'Bout my hearin'?" Joel's working overtime to suck the air in, to bring precious oxygen to his brain. His head is still pounding, and now he can't fucking breathe, and he can't even imagine what kind of sick, twisted shit you're going to do to him.

Joel watches your eyes drop to the ground by his feet, and it's almost like you pull your body in on itself somehow, retreating into a place where you're trying to hide from him in plain sight. "I been watchin' you when you come in here... just act like you can't hear all that good outta your right ear," you say in a voice so small Joel can barely hear it.

"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.

Who the fuck are you? How long have you been watching him? How come he's never seen you before? Never even seen a trace of another person around here, just the stray raccoon or possum.

Joel's blood boils when you nod your head at him, still unable to look him in the eye. "Ya' should be ashamed. Whatever it is ya' wanna do to me is probably fucked--"

"I'm not ashamed," your voice snaps, and finally you lift your head to meet Joel's gaze. "Not even a little."

"Actin' like it," Joel's voice is snappier, and louder, and it makes you flinch.

"Maybe a little embarrassed--"

"Ashamed, fuckin' embarrassed, same fuckin' thing." Joel rolls his eyes at you.

"Not really," you shake your head from side to side and raise both of your eyebrows at him. "Not at all, actually."

"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"

"Would you shut th'fuck up..." You mock Joel. "I'm tryin' to do somethin' nice for you, and you keep telling me to shut the fuck up!"

"Do somethin' nice f'me?!" If this wasn't almost thirty years after the fucking apocalypse happened, Joel would think he was on some hidden camera show.

"Yeah!" You hold out the supplies you had brought back from wherever the fuck you had run off too while Joel was unconscious.

"Doin' somethin' nice would be lettin' me go, sweetheart." Joel switches his tone- does something he wouldn't normally do in a situation like this.

Your eyes light up. They crinkle in the corners a little, like they did the first time he saw you, but you're not upside down this time. The corners of your lips are trying to curl up, but you're actively trying to stop them.

"Don't call me that, 'less you mean it."

With the comb, water bottle and first-aid kit in hand, you take your place behind him and inspect the wound. 

It's a surface wound, but dirty from the brick and still very bloody. 

It's a painstaking process, because you don't want to be the cause of his pain anymore. Not ever again if you can help it.

Really, that's up to Mister, but he'll find out on his own soon enough! He just has to play nice, be sweet and kind— be the Mister you want him to be, and he'll be perfectly happy here with you. Life here with you in the mall could be perfect! He just needs to be perfect. He's almost there, he just has to keep his mouth shut. 

He's not quiet, not at all. He hoots and hollers at you to stop, to let him go, that he's gonna gut you like a fish if he ever gets free from here.

The way he talks, his voice feels like the deepest note on a piano, or the thickest string being plucked on a guitar. It vibrates in the spaces between your ribs, and forces all the air out of your lungs when he talks.

He's taking your breath away... how romantic.

The sweet and airy voice in your head is right, he is taking your breath away. You wish he would stop saying those mean and terrible things to you-- they're making you hurt inside, where your stomach is.

Guilt. You should just kill him right now--

"Hurt him?"

Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.

Look'it those big brown eyes. Like a baby cow. All wet 'n big, kinda scared lookin'.

Ugh, shoot him right between those beautiful brown eyes, kid. You can do it.

He ain't hurt you yet, Sug...

Because she tied him up--

As she should, she's gotta feel him out a little, make sure he's really not gonna hurt her.

How is he ever going to hurt her if he's tied up?

"Okay, enough!" You almost shout-- there they go! Never seeing eye to eye, making things harder than they needed to be!

"I'll yell all I fuckin' want," Joel does holler, loudly. So loud. He's going to draw attention.

"Do I need to get the brick again?"

Joel stops shouting.

He really can't hold back the pained sounds coming from his throat as you attend to his wound.

You're being so, so gentle!

He's acting like a giant baby.

"M'hurtin' you?" You mumble as you drag the damp cloth along his forehead carefully, cleaning the moderately large gash you left there with the brick. It's swollen, and bruised now... you feel so terrible.

He'll forgive you, Sugar.

Mister-man doesn't say anything, he just flinches away from your touch for the millionth time.

"M'sorry, didn't mean t'hurt you this bad." You slowly start to work the comb through his hair, spraying it down with water when you needed to. You're careful to never pull on his hair too hard, and work the tangles out meticulously so you don't bring him any more discomfort.

"Got'chu some medicine." You reach into your pocket and pull out two white pills.

"I ain't takin' nothin' y'give me, fuckin' crazy bitch." He grumbles.

Mister watches you walk around to the front of him, and kneel between his legs.

"S'just regular," you hold your hand up to his face so he can inspect the pill on his own. "Nothin' strong like they had in the QZ's," it's a gentle explanation as he studies the medicine in your palm. "Can find some for ya' if you wanted me to, m'real good at findin' stuff."

"Find it in your heart t'let me outta here," Joel gives you the sweetest, crookedest smile that makes you stomach feel like it grows ten sizes, and your heart feels like it's racing something else inside of you.

There are sweet wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the lines on his forehead deepen, and he has the softest dimple on his left cheek.

Sug, he's so pretty.

Kill. Him. Before. He. Kills. You.

"So pretty," you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, and rest one of your elbows on his knee, propping your head up on the heel of your hand. The pills are still right in front of Joel's face, and his eyes flash between them, and your face.

"Not takin' them" he grumbles, twisting his head away from your hand.

"Suit yourself," you put the pills back into your pocket, dipping your head down to press a soft kiss to his knee. "M'gunna go get us dinner, I'll be back."

Joel stares at the tray of food you set down on the table you dragged over to be directly in front of him.

"Where's the protein?" Joel looks up at you from the plate of crackers with peanut butter, a small bowl of raspberries, two packets of expired pretzels you would get on an airplane, and a full bottle of labelless whiskey.

"S'in the peanut butter," you say through a mouthful of your own cracker.

Begrudgingly, Joel opens his mouth when you hold a cracker up to his lips. "Where's the meat?"

The crackers are dry, and kind of stale somehow? The peanut butter is still nice and creamy, just the way Joel remembered it before the outbreak.

"Where would I find meat?"

Joel pinches his brows together and blinks at you. "Ya' live in the woods, got a gun or two-- fuckin' know how to set a snare--"

You gasp softly, and rest one elbow on the table and point at him with a lazy index finger, "You 'spect me to go out there and kill an innocent lil friend? They ain't ever done nothin' t'me. Why would I go out 'n hurt 'em when I ain't got no reason to?"

Joel continues to blink, trying so hard to keep his eyes on you and not the ropes you have him tied down with so tightly they're starting to dig into the skin on his forearms-- painfully.

"Ya' kiddin', right?" He watches as you place a raspberry directly into the peanut butter on the cracker and hold it out for him.

"Issa good combo, try it." You nod your head at him, urging him to open his mouth.

Joel doesn't want to, doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he needs you, and is going to keep needing you until you decide to kill him, or set him free.

He opens his mouth though, because Joel hasn't had a raspberry in years and he loves them, and the sight of that plump, juicy berry sitting so comfortably in that pillow of delicious, creamy peanut butter is making his stomach rumble. Loudly.

"Want some?" You hold up the bottle of whiskey, screw off the cap and take a swig. "See, it's safe," you look at him through your lashes, and give him a one-corner-of-your-mouth-smile.

Joel nods his head, because what else was there to do if he was going to be a prisoner here? He tried so hard to free himself of the restraints while you were gone, but you know how to tie a knot, and Joel just ended up giving himself rope burn.

An hour later, Joel feels pretty good, but not good enough to forget the situation he's in, but the booze is making you very chatty, and he might actually be enjoying the conversation.

"'N I get power from the solar things up on the roof, I think."

"Ya' think?" Joel smirks at you, he can't help it.

"I dunno how the solar works," you exclaim, holding one hand towards the ceiling. "It's the sun and black screens," you give the ceiling the middle finger and groan. "Barely works when the sun is out-- I just wanna watch my movies--"

"What kinda movies ya' got?"

He wishes he never asked.

You're sitting between his legs on the floor-- reaching behind you to feed him raspberries, never taking your eyes off the screen.

Joel thing's about biting your fingers off, thinks about taking the tips right off with his front teeth.

What would you do if he did that? Joel is still tied up, and he would just have raspberries and bloodied fingertips in his mouth, and then possibly a crazy, unpredictable, angry woman who would try and kill him.

Joel has seen angry people every day for close to thirty years... he knows what they look like, what they sound and act like--- you don't sound or act angry.

"Love this part," you sigh, leaning back into him, and resting your head on his knee.

Joel looks up to the screen, watching Cinderella transform into her beautiful ball gown.

Joel wishes he could reach out and run his fingers through your hair.

No he fucking doesn't? What the actual fuck? What did you put in the food, or the whiskey to make him feel this way?

Joel clenches his hands to fists on the arms of the recliner, and tenses his jaw-- grinding his teeth in the process.

You continue to drink throughout the movie, and when the credits are rolling-- you stumble to your feet, and then into his lap.

"Get off'a me," Joel gripes as you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face.

"Just wanna cuddle," you murmur, curling yourself up into his chest, yawning sleepily. "F'just a lil bit."

"Get off'a me, ya' fuckin' nut!" Joel shouts, and regretfully, tries to headbutt you.

His cheekbone, the side of his nose and part of his forehead connect with the top of your skull in a dull, aching thud.

You scramble off his lap, and fall to the floor, one hand holding the top of your head where Joel had just whacked you. The right side of his face is throbbing, and he thinks his nose might be bleeding, or he's crying- he doesn't know- he doesn't care. He just wants to go home.

"What the fuck!?" You shout back at him. "Mister, I ain't been mean to you at all, minus the brick- okay? What the hell is your problem!?"

Joel can't help but laugh, it starts off as a chuckle, but quickly matures into full on guffawing. "Y'fuckin' insane, ya' know that?" Joel rumbles through his fit.

Through the tears in his eyes, Joel can see you glaring at him.

Okay, he hurt her, can she kill him now?

Sugar, he ain't mean it... not really... he just needs some time to adjust.

He could have really hurt her, are you serious?

He's just nervous! Give the man a break--

Tired of giving men breaks- tired of letting them get away-

"Both of you, knock it off." It's a stern warning to the voice as you glare at Mister.

He stops laughing and blinks at you. "Huh?" He cocks one eyebrow up high, "Both o' ya?"

His question doesn't register, all you can think about is how disappointed you are in him.

"I was gunna let'chya sleep in the big bed with me," you huff, climbing to your feet. "Ain't gonna do that no more."

"I ain't wanna sleep in the big bed with y'crazy fuckin' ass, anyway!" He screams at you.

"What're ya' bein' so fuckin' mean for? I cleaned ya' up, made ya' pretty again-- fed you dinner 'n shared my drink with you!"

Do not cry! What're you doing!? Don't let him see you cry! Get out of here, right now!

The dark voice is right, the burn in your nose and the sting in your eyes are tell tale signs of tears- and you hate them. Hate the way they make your face wet and sticky, hate how they make your heart hurt, hate how your head feels like it's ten pounds heavier when you get done crying.

He'll come around, Sug. Gotta give him some time. If ya' stay nice-- it'll happen sooner than you think.

"I like bein' nice," you murmur, not taking your eyes off Mister.

"Th'fuck are you talkin' about!?" He exclaims, eyes wide, almost obsidian with rage and confusion.

"G'night, Mister. We'll try again t'morow."

Mister doesn't rest, doesn't relax, doesn't settle down at all.

When you open the door to his room, he's still screaming his head off.

"Hey!" You shout back at him, grabbing his attention. "We got raiders 'round here. We got infected movin' in and outta here all the time-- you know how fuckin' loud you are?"

"Hopefully they all hear 'n come runnin'. I'd love to see you get torn to shred-"

"'Kay, m'real sorry ya' feel that way. Even sorrier that I gotta do this."

Mister doesn't stop fighting you the entire time you shove the bandanna into his mouth. He even bites down on your index and middle finger as you stuff the last corner of fabric between his teeth.

Hit him.

It happens so fast, you don't have time to stop yourself from the back of your hand connecting with his cheek.

"Now, you gunna play that game? I can play, too," you inspect your finger and the deep indentation he left that's already starting to bruise.

The duct tape is hard to rip, and you need to use your teeth to cut a strip to go over his mouth.

Mister is mumbling something around the bandanna, but you can't understand him, and honestly are still mad about your fingers-- they hurt! Really bad!

"Glad I still got that medicine... I'm gunna fuckin' need it!" You dig around in your pockets and look for the two white pills. Your fingers throb while you look, the sensitive skin; tender to the touch as it brushes against the fabric inside your pockets.

Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.

"I'm sorry!" You find the pills, throw them into your mouth and swallow dry. "I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I do not like doin' it, I mean it." You take a couple steps towards him, and drop to your knees between his legs again.

Mister watches, his whole body still as you rest your head on his knee again.

"Just want ya' 'round. M'sorry," you close your eyes, not wanting him to see them fill with those traitorous tears. "Jus' real lonely out here. Miss havin' someone t'talk with...'n snuggle up to at night."

The fuckin' duct tape makes it impossible for Mister to say anything--which is the worst. You wanted someone to talk with, not at.

"I'll take the tape off in the mornin', and we can try again over breakfast, 'kay?"

Mister doesn't make a single sound for the rest of the night.

Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.

You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.

"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.

Honestly, he barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night.

How can he not like it just a little bit? You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.

"Couple more minutes, Mister. Please?" You fucking whimper,

The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.

Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!

And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.

Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.

"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.

You feel it now, too.

"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.

"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.

"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.

Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.

"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-

He's never drinking with you again. Never again.

"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.

"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"

Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.

He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.

"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.

The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his kiss, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.

Joel groans low in his throat when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.

"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.

"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.

Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."

The sound that leaves you makes Joel throb in your hand, "Ya' want me t'put 'em inside?" You whisper, the silky smoothness of your hands on him, stroking him so slowly is making his head spin.

"Jeeesus, yes-- fuckin' c'mon- do it," Joel lets his head fall back against the recliner, and watches as you pull your shorts to the side, and lift yourself to hover over him. "C'mon..." Joel eggs you on in a whisper. "Y'can do it, crazy girl."

"Don't call--" you pause when you notch the head of him at your entrance. "--me crazy."

Joel groans loudly as you sink down and let every wet, soft part of you engulf him. He throbs again when you whimper and whine, eyes clenched shut, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you inch your way down his length.

"Ow, ow, ow," you whine, leaning forward to rest your head on Joel's.

He could headbutt the shit out of you right now, but fuck, the way you're looking at him, with real tears in your eyes, not just from drinking.

"Hey, ya' doin' real good, sweetheart, keep goin'-- nice 'n slow," Joel encourages you, because he doesn't want it to stop either. "Jus' like that, crazy girl."

God damn, is crazy pussy always this good? He wouldn't fucking know, he wouldn't ever get involved with you if he knew you back in Jackson- but out here, after almost three weeks with you... it's hard to deny the physical needs of a man. And you're so fucking soft and wet.

The two of you groan in unison when you fully seated. The velvet walls of your pussy are fluttering, and clenching around him as you adjust to his length.

"You're so big," you hum, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Didn't think ya'd wanna do this," you whisper into his mouth. "Wasn't gon' take it from ya-- don't like that."

"Take what'chya need from me, whenever ya want it, shit," Joel tries to buck his hips up into yours to give you what you want but you whine in protest.

"Still hurts."

Joel settles his hips and leans into the best he can being tied down, his fingers grip the armrests of the chair tightly, groping it like he would be groping you if he could.

"Untie me," he murmurs while grinding up against you, not pulling out of you at all, just letting you feel him, letting you open up around him so it'll start to feel good.

"No," you nip at his bottom lip now, but you suck it into your mouth and tease him with your tongue as your walls start to rhythmically clench around him.

"Fuck, ya' doin' that on -ur-ose?" Joel groans with his bottom lip still being lapped at, The feeling of your tight, wet sucking him in deeper somehow- like it's fucking bottomless almost makes him come right then.

You pull back, his lip slips from between your with a wet pop "Mhm, ya' like it?" You clench harder around him and then release, and then do that over, and over again.

"Fuckin' untie me, wanna touch you- gotta feel how soft ya' are all over, c'mon," he's begging, he needs to feel the swell of your ass in his palm, or one of your tits spilling between his fingers as he grips you.

"No, you'll just try 'n leave me-"

"No, no, no-- I'll stay 'n... uh.. I'll... um- uh--oh, I'll play nice wit'chya" Joel racks his brain with anything that he could say that would possibly give him a chance at being able to really touch you.

"Lyin' t'me," you moan, and Joel throbs inside of you.

"Not lyin'-"

You pull back from his face at an alarming rate, and you scan his face slowly, as if you were drinking in every feature, savoring the flavor-- Joel watches you swallow hard and imagines that it's his load you just took down--

"Untie me, let me touch ya' a lil bit," Joel whispers, keeping his eyes locked on to yours. "Make ya' feel real good, promise." Joel licks his lips as he watches you struggle internally with the decision. "C'mon... gotta feel how soft ya' are, crazy girl. Just one hand."

"Fine."

You stay seated in his lap, his cock still throbbing inside of you as you work on the knot that will free his right hand. He's trembling in the anticipation of it all.

As soon as the pressure is gone off his wrist, Joel reels his arm back as far as he can, and sends it flying forward with as much force as he can muster after not eating meat for almost an entire month.

You scream as his fist connects with your right eye, and go flying to the floor.

Joel might be completely sober right now, and he knows he needs to move fast before you get up and probably shoot him for lying to you, and then punching you.

Yep. Shoot him. Shoot him right between his perfect, brow, baby-cow eyes. End it.

The dark voice in your head is right, but it's almost impossible to think about anything else but the pain shooting into your brain from your right eye socket.

"You motherfucker," you sob. The pain is electrifying- and you can't even see out of your right eye anymore!

That was your least favorite eye!

Kill. Him.

When you sit up, Joel is working on the knot around his left wrist.

You stumble to your feet, holding your hand over your eye trying to keep the actual ball in, in case it falls out, and walk over to the table with his book bag on it. You rummage around until your fingers wrap around the item you're looking for.

When Joel sees what you're carrying, not even attempting to hide it behind your back, he quickens his efforts on the knot.

Your left hand isn't your dominant one, but your right is busy keeping your eyeball in your head because it most surely got knocked loose or something.

You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.

"S'what ya' get for almost takin' my eye out!"

While he's still asleep, you take this opportunity to cut the jeans he's wearing off of him. You carefully unbutton the green and red flannel he was wearing and slip that off of him fully intact.

Once he's fully secure, with a new restraint around his chest to keep him fully pinned down to the chair, and the bandanna and tape back around his mouth-- you shut all the lights off, every single one, and leave him down there to think about what he did.

He's gonna learn to play nice, and if he wants to play rough first... so can you.

The air is thick with tension and stench of his sweat and fear.

The big-guy should be kind of scared- you didn't want it to come to this, but he just cannot participate nicely!

You circle your Mister-man slowly, drinking in every detail of him. His broad chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles taut and straining as he fights against the restraints for the thousandth time.

No matter how hard he struggles, he cannot break free. Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings about it, and he's trying to let you know.

He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair, that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists. It's unfortunate, but he keeps wriggling around! If he just stopped, it'd all be fine!

You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna play nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"

His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot respond, not really, his voice is saying things, but it's muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth.

He's still clad in only boxer shorts, a thin gray t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.

It really shouldn't be so hot-- but it is. You can't stop thinking about what he said the other night.

"Take what'cya want from me, sweetheart. Whenever you want it."

You wonder if he really meant that, because he punched you in the face right after.

But... he got excited! He wanted it, Mister-man kissed you first.

Oh Sug, he's down bad.

Please kill him. Shoot him right now, then you can just move to a different part of the mall. It's very simple.

He's really mad; which makes no sense! He punched you right in the eye! What is he mad for!?

"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, Mister," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.

Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.

The perfect basement office of an old mattress store in an abandoned mall about a two hour hike outside of what used to be Jackson, Wyoming?

There's no spores, there's no mildew or stink! It's clean, you make sure to keep everything so clean for him.

Despite his insessant pestering about meat for some reason, he's well fed! He gets to drink whenever he wants!

Why is he so upset!?

Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.

Soon.

Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.

He's just gotta wear something else first.

You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.

He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.

"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.

He's going to try-- he always does.

Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.

"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."

Joel mumbles something else, muffled through the duct tape. It doesn't really matter what he's saying, all that matters is how warm he is. How he makes you feel so safe and comfortable.

It's easy now, with the threat of being zapped, to rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle the tips of your noses together.

"You gunna be good for me, Mister-man?" It's a purr as you press a kiss to the duct tape covering his mouth. "Or am I gunna have to train you how to be good?"

omg this might be the longest tag list i've ever done let me know if you want me to take you off, add you, if I forgot you-- I'm SORRY!!!

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22

[scorpioriesling]

GIRLIE i have been reading 4th wing and holy hell, why havent we got an azriel x fourth wing yettt? like just imagine, that man is literally perfect for ANY book crossover, I would pay good money to see Az beat the frick out of jack (ew)

Our Worlds Collided

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Azriel x reader

Warning(s): Violence... I mean, read the ask. Lol.

Summary: Living in a different place than your boyfriend is hard, and the moments you can be together, you don't want to waste. But, being in school, there are still obligations and tasks you must complete -- even if it means spending time with your man in a less-than-ideal place.

SR’s Note: This ask was *chef's kiss*. I've been doing so much lately with smut + the Invisible String series (which is finished btw, go read it if you haven't yet) that I haven't really got to write a cute little short story in a while. I hope this is what you wanted -- I'm happy with how it turned out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"I'm so glad you made it!"

You threw your arms around your boyfriend, his tall but strong frame engulfing you as he held you close. Grateful for the familiar scent of pine and mint, you inhaled deeply.

"You missed me that much?" The low timbre of his voice was like a caress against your very soul.

Nodding wordlessly, he pulled back, only a bit to look into your eyes. His shadows danced around him in a joyful parade, signaling his inner happiness he so rarely showed on the outside.

"I missed you too, Y/N." He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your lips and smiling when you tugged him close for more. He slid his rough hands along your waist, settling on your hips while his lips moved against yours.

The moment, one you'd been desperate for for weeks now, was harshly interrupted by the mid-afternoon bell, signaling the end of classes for the day. You pulled back, watching your boyfriend grimace at the sound.

"Don't tell me you've never heard a schoolbell before, Azriel," you chuckled. His ears perked up at the sound, and only when it finally ended did he resume his usual, unassuming posture.

"I'll have to get used to the sounds here again." He says. It was true -- where he was from, Prythian, sounds were much softer as the fae hearing had adapted that way. But, in Basgiath, for your kind; it was quite the opposite.

"Yes... and the dragons." You'd taken his hand, making way for your dorm as he sighed.

"Ahh, yes. Almost forgot about those."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He truly could not have come to visit at a worse time; not to sound ungrateful, you loved seeing your boyfriend and all, but between all the training, challenges, and courses you were balancing -- well, there were many hours of the day that you had to leave him to attend those duties.

But, you couldn't complain. Spending every evening, curled up with Azriel, your back to his chest as you got the best sleep of your life? You were counting down the days to graduation.

"So... a first year... that's when we met," Azriel says slowly, flipping through one of your library books. He'd chosen Basgiath's War College History, and was all the more quizzical.

"Yes," you confirmed. "That was when I took Ramir to... well, Prythian." You shrugged. "Accidental, of course, but, look what it got me."

He glanced up, chuckling as you threw him a wink. It was an unusually rainy Friday, and though you'd rather be exploring the town with Azriel, Emetterio had other plans.

"But, how were you even able to leave the college with your dragon?" He asks, frowning at the next. You wrap a few more strands of your braid, reflecting on the distant memory.

"Oh, I got in trouble all right." General Sorrengail had been furious with you upon your return, having clearly stated that dragon riding was for Basgiath-grounds only. "But, like I said -- at least I met you."

He doesn't look up this time, flipping the page and reading more of the text intently.

"So, now that you're a third-year," he starts, his attention only faltering for a moment when you sit down on the mattress beside him. "You can go anywhere you want?"

You nod in confirmation. "Yup. That's right -- Ramir doesn't particularly like long-distance flying, but he does just fine going to Prythian and back."

Azriel looks sidelong at you, and in the dim afternoon light, you can count every freckle on his face. His hazel eyes gaze at you, flickering between your eyes and lips. You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as his hands slide along your upper thigh.

Your alarm buzzes from your phone, causing Azriel to pull back and cover his ears with his palms. You scramble to turn it off, leaning across your boyfriend to reach the night stand in the process.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," you apologize. Your movement to sit back down is halted; his large hands pulling you to straddle him.

He smirks at you, appreciating your cute giggle as you sit on his lap. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, and in an instant his lips are on yours again.

"Hmm, quite handsy today, are we?" You mumble, eliciting a chuckle from him against your mouth. He enforces his feelings as his left hand lightly pats your behind, and you squeak.

"I wonder why you've got all this on, anyway?" He mutters suggestively. You peer down at him with a scolding expression.

"Though I'd love to have it all off," you punctuate. "I have to be in the training room in 10 minutes." His smile falters a bit, and you realize too late that you slipped up.

"Training room? For what?"

Realization hits you, and you hastily hop off his lap to grab your phone and boots.

"Uh, we have, umm..." You fumble, quickly yanking your boots on and tying the laces. "Training. Tonight."

He looks at you, unimpressed. "Really. Training, at 5 in the afternoon? On a Friday?" He raises an eyebrow.

You huff, standing as you adjust your leathers. "Y-yes."

He continues his blank stare, clearly not buying it.

"Don't worry, I won't be long -- I promise, I'll be quick." You reach for the doorhandle, making up for the time you you'd spent on your boyfriend's lap.

"And, safe." He calls, just as the door shuts.

As you jogged through the corridors, you felt anything but safe. Azriel hated when you got hurt, and of course, before the long weekend, Professor Emetterio was holding challenges. It made sense to choose tonight so injured riders could rest up before classes resumed Tuesday -- but given your situation, it really, really sucked.

Especially because of who had chellanged you; none other than Jack Barlowe.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Girl, you're lucky Emetterio is running behind," Violet says, shaking her head as you finally make it to the training ring. Rhiannon places a light hand on your shoulder, making sure you're okay, but you only nod to her in thanks.

"I.... I lost, track... of time," you say between pants. Rhiannon nods in sympathy, but your silver-haired friend only smirks.

"Mhm, I'm sure you did. Too caught up with the Shadowsinger?" She teases. Rhiannon gasps.

"I didn't know Azriel was in town!" She beams. You roll your eyes at Violet.

"Oh, like you've never been late before," you grin wickedly. "Too busy playing with shadows, and such." Rhiannon claps a hand over her mouth, giggling at the insinuation.

Violet can't help but laugh too. "Oh please -- we know you love your boyfriends little playmates just as much."

Just then, the training room door swings open as Professor Emetterio walks through. He walks straight to the center of the room, clipboard in hand.

"Students!" He bellows, and the entire room hushes. "I have the list here of challenges for this evening -- now, I want to remind you all, the goal of these scheduled fights is not to kill, but rather build your own strength as a rider against an opponent."

Your eyes flicker to that familiar head of blonde hair across the room. Bile rises in your throat as he snickers, whispering something to his friends before meeting you with a menacing stare.

You look away.

"...we'll try to make this quick, as I do understand it is a long weekend and most of you have plans." He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses on his nose and squinting down at the first names.

"Ridoc and Merlin -- please step onto the training mat!"

Everyone clears off the mat, instead lining the outer edges to get a view of the impending battle before them. You stay close to your friends, your attention interrupted by Violet's voice in your ear.

"We've always kind of had the same type, haven't we?"

Rhiannon giggles again from her other side, and you loose a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"We do not -- for example, I would've never dated a guy like Dain." You quip. Violet groans, stratching her forehead.

"Okay, that was definately one mistake," she says. Rhiannon glances between the two of you, counting the similarities on one hand.

"Hmm, tall, tan, brooding shadow masters? Yeah, I'd say your type is the same." You blush, thinking of the handsome male waiting for you in your dorm room.

Violet chimes in. "Don't forget about the tattoos."

Rhiannon nods, holding up another finger. "Right, right -- definitely can't forget the tattoos."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Three more pairs are called after the first fight, and you're so caught up in conversation with your friends that you almost miss your name being called.

"Y/N and Jack -- please take the mat!"

Violet looks to you in horror, as Rhiannon gasps.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you had to fight-"

"It wouldn't have changed anything." You glare ahead, watching Jack's pompous, blonde head part through the crowd of onlookers.

It was true, your friends couldn't have done anything to change the fact that Jack had challenged you. In a twisted way, you kind of wanted the opportunity to punch him in the face -- but, the niggling fear of him punishing you to the near brink of death had you mostly thinking otherwise.

Taking the mat, you watched as Jack sized you up, smirking and rolling his lip between his teeth before taking his beginning stance. You mirrored him, fists raised, though they shook.

"Begin."

Jack wastes no time, slowly stepping around the ring as he continues to look at you menacingly. You move in opposition, trying to keep as much distance as you can.

"Awww," he coos mockingly. "Not so tough now that were in the training ring, are we?" He smirks.

You glare at him. "I've always been tougher than you, Jack."

He chuckles, lunging forward and clicking his teeth together in front of your face. You step back, your boot stepping onto the cold concrete floor outside the training ring. Emettario clears his throat, before breathing out a sigh.

"Y/N, please. Step back onto the mat."

You take a half step onto the mat, it's surface not much more forgiving than the concrete it sat on. Jack snickers, backing up to allow you an inch of room.

"Y'look scared to me, Y/N." He moves, slow and stealthy. "Almost as scared as Baide when I-"

"Shut the Hell up." You grit out, glaring hard at him. Reflecting back to the moment that caused all this to begin with, your blood boils. Finding Jack out late that night last week, all of those weapons, how he had mistreated his own dragon-

"Ooooh, hot are we?" He sneers, ignoring the fearful faces of your friends standing just outside the ring behind him. "That's the difference between dragons and us -- they are easier to control."

Rage bubbles over the surface, your own words drifting into the back of your mind. They're no different than we are, you'd tried to convince him that night. They deserve our respect.

You lunge at him, respect be damned for the asshole before you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the silent victory; your fist had hit him exactly where you wanted it to. He staggers back, clutching his face with one hand as he gasps, his other hand raised before him.

"Fuck, you!" He growls, making to grab you but you're too fast. You snake to his side, kicking your boot against his stomach. He doubles over, falling to his knees in pain.

The memory of Violet in this position from your first year sends you reeling, remembering the horror of watching your best friend beaten and bruised so badly that Xaden had to come finish her challenge for her.

You grap him around the neck, flexing your arm at a 45 degree angle in an attempt to put him in a headlock. He'd never hurt anyone again; not you, not your friends, not any dragon, whether it be someone else's or his own-

His hands grip your arm, pulling you over his back and slamming you straight onto your back before him. You let out a cough as the wind was knocked out of you, your vision blurring as you tried to refocus on the ceiling above you.

"Shouldn't have fucked with me, Y/N!" He shouts, scrambling to his feet, only to land a harsh kick to your ribcage. You cried out in pain, grabbing your side as you felt his boot shoving against your ribs, and fingers, again.

"I do what I want with my dragon," he grunts, ramming his shoe into your side over and over again. Pain explodes across your body, your fingers cracking beneath his repeated blows.

Black spots begin to fill your vision, the overhead lights blinking out as the last sounds feel your ears. You're blacking out. You're surely blacking out.

You try again to rise, weakly as your arms shake beneath you. It's no use -- his foot connects with your hipbone, sending you right back to the floor. The shouts of your friends, Emetterio's calling, the world around you; it all begins winking out.

Curled onto your side, you heave one last final breath, waiting for the final hit to send you into darkness.

But, it never comes.

You crane your neck, confused as the shouting around you grows louder. Wincing in pain, you make it onto your back, only having to turn your head to watch as the horrific scene unfolds from the other side of the mat.

Tall and terrifying, you watch those familiar scarred hands throw the blonde to the ground, his body literally bouncing in recoil at the impact. Large, tanned muscles yank Jack back up; only to twist his arms behind his back, the angle unnatural.

Your enemy cries out, writing in pain as the wispy black shadows hurl punches of their own at the bastard. Dark, large wings flare behind the male; the talons enough to send anyone away screaming.

"Please... you don't have to do this, I-"

Azriel punches him clean in the jaw, Jack's head jerking as he falls limply to the ground. The growing crowd around the mat erupts, their screams so loud it felt deafening.

You now understood why Azriel hated the sounds here so much.

The black dots clouding your vision increase, your heart rate slowing before you finally black out -- the last thing you see are his familiar leather boots stalking toward you.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"She's going to be just fine."

The light from the overhead bulbs is blinding as you squint your eyes open, muffled voices and beeps becoming more distinguishable. You blink a few times before everything comes into clear view -- the white operating bed, the heart rate monitor beside you...

...the brooding, winged male in the chair across from you.

"I... what..." you look side to side, taking in the mender watching over you. He begins to grab his things, preparing to leave.

"Your challenge with Mr. Barlowe left you with a few... injuries," he settles on the word lightly. You don't miss his quick glance to Azriel before he continues. "But, not as many as he recieved himself."

You swear there is a hint of a smile behind his words.

"I'll leave you two for a moment."

No sooner than the door shuts behind him, Azriel is on his feet and approaching your bedside, opting to sit next to you on it as he looks down at you. Concern etches his features, underneath the unassuming mask he puts on; then, the memories of what happened start coming back to you.

"Why would you step in like that?" You say angrily, and Azriel huffs.

"Seriously, Y/N? Why would I step in?" He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe because I wasn't comfortable watching the shit get beat out of my girlfriend, that's why." He takes your wrapped hand in his, though his brows still knit on his forehead. "Why didn't you tell me about the fight beforehand?"

You relax your features a little, your heart softening as he rubs small circles against the back of your palm with his thumb. "I didn't think you'd particularly like it, or understand-"

"You're damn right I don't like it." He says, giving your hand a small squeeze. "What would have happened had I not been there?"

His hazel eyes stare right into yours, and you bite your bottom lip. Truly, what would have happened?

"I-I don't know, I guess, Emetterio would have-"

"He wasn't doing shit, Y/N." He sighs, leaning on his elbow to cocoon you in an embrace. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, and you find yourself relaxing a bit more against his warmth.

"I don't like that you have to go through these things." He says after a moment of silence. His voice is softer now, his hand lightly running along your bandaged side. "I don't like to see you hurt-"

"I have to do this though, Az. It's part of training." You turn to face him, wincing in pain as the fresh bandages do little to ease you. "And, I'm much tougher than you think."

A ghost of a smile graces his lips, his rough fingers reaching out to brush a piece of hair out of your eyes.

"I know you are. I just... I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you too much for that."

Your heart practically bursts out of your chest at the sentiment, and in that moment, you snuggle closer to his chest.

"Good thing I have a big, strong male that I love to protect me then."

[gayshitanddadjokes]

Okay I thought I was content just leaving commentary in the tags but after reading that article I need to say something.

The reason electric boats aren't mainstream is because they're hard to make and even harder to sustain. My (summer) job is at a place that has some of the largest electric boats in the world, and we are constantly charging them. The moment they dock we plug them in, and they're only moving for 30 min at max. Electric boats that do longer voyages have solar panels on the boats so that they have a constant charge, because the one thing you don't want to have happen is have your boat battery die.

Elon Musk wants to strap a single electric motor and propeller to the back of the cybertruck and have people drive them into lakes. There's no way those cars are neutrally buoyant; it's hard to make sure boats are neutrally buoyant. So even if one of his cars looks like it's floating, it's going to be sinking little by little.

Imagine with me, if you will. You drive your cybertruck into a lake. You use a slipway, because trying to enter the lake in any other way will probably immediately kill you. It's going okay, and miraculously the caulk musk used to close your doors shut is holding. And then your battery dies and you notice that your car is slowly sinking. Hopefully you manage to roll down the window and crawl out before you have to open the door, which would sink the car and immediately send you to the bottom of this lake. Hopefully you can swim.

At this point, I think Musk is trying to cull the stupid.

[joelsprettyprincess]

Taming of the Shrew - Part 3

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.4k A/N: This is the final part to this mini-series! I meant to upload it last night but I added in some things last minute. Thank yall so much for all the love on the first two parts, and thank you for reading!! As always, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz @batmandallyboy

Part 2

You remained holed up in your room all day, alternating between sobbing and staring blankly at the wall. No matter what transpired, your life was irreversibly altered. Even if you gave away the baby and came home, you would still be the loose hussy. The unruly girl. Doomed to a life of being a spinster and an example to the younger girls in town.

At some point you started praying, hoping God would hear you and somehow lift you from this awful predicament.

All too soon, Elisabeth knocked on the door, saying you were being summoned to the sitting room. You were on edge; it felt like you could feel your individual neurons pulsing and transmitting a network of regret all over your body.

You dragged your feet downstairs and trudged to the sitting room, feeling like you were approaching the guillotine. 

Your two executioners sat on the couch. Your mother had an angry, nasty look on her face while your father seemed a bit apprehensive. It was clear she hadn’t told him yet, choosing instead to let him wonder.

“Sit down,” your mother said icily.

You sat. 

“Our lovely daughter has something to tell us, darling,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. 

You were starting to think she was genuinely evil. You kept silent. Lord, save me. 

“Go on, don’t be shy.” Your mother chuckled. “Or shall I?”

There was no way you were going to admit to your father what you’d done. Eating nails would be preferable to this.

She scoffed. “Alright then. Our daughter…this woman…has gone and got herself with child.”

Both you and your father flinched, him with surprise and you with shame. You bowed your head low. Your secret was out in the open now. 

“With child?” he repeated incredulously. “How?”

How, indeed.

“That is the question,” your mother said. “She won’t tell me who the father is, or she doesn’t know.”

Your father struggled to form words. You didn't dare meet their gazes.

“Is this true?” he finally asked you.

Of course it was true. It was the worst, most painful truth of your life. “Yes,” you admitted in a tiny voice.

He shook his head in disappointment. “I just don't understand how this could happen,” he remarked. “What happened to our little girl?”

You hadn’t been a little girl in a long time, but you didn’t bother pointing this out.

“Do you have any idea who the father is?” your mother demanded. “Or are you such a loose hussy that it could be any man in town? Is that what you’ve been doing every time you sneak out? Answer me!” 

I hate you.

You put your head in your hands and sobbed. 

Your mother sighed. “Now I suppose you’ll wash my feet with your tears next? Stop with the crocodile tears. If you thought yourself mature enough to partake in such activities, you’re surely smart enough to know the consequences.”

The tears came harder and faster. You could barely stand to be here any longer. This was pure torture. You just wanted…well, what you wanted was far away right now, and also the cause of your problems. 

“I’m sending you to the nunnery,” your mother announced, raising her voice above your noisy sobs. “Until this…issue is resolved. You clearly need the fear of God put into you.”

Anything but that! “No!” you cried. “No, please, I can’t! Mother, please!”

“We have no other choice,” she replied flatly. “I will not allow you to bring shame upon this family. Now, you’re dismissed back to your room and don’t you dare try to leave and corrupt anyone else with the knowledge of your actions. Just the sight of you disgusts me.”

“Father,” you pleaded. “Don’t let her do this!”

Your father, the coward, was already standing up. “Well, I don’t think I should disagree with your mother-”

“To your room,” your mother spoke angrily.

You ran out of the room, despaired, fearful, and angry all at once.

It had been less than 3 days since your parents were made aware of your pregnancy, and your mother moved like she had firecrackers under her feet, directing the packing up of your room.

You were being sent to a convent north of Valentine, many, many miles away. According to your mother, you would stay there until the baby was born and either raise it there or give it away. 

“If you ever return here, I have no desire to see a crying brat with you,” your mother told you bluntly. What a pleasant woman.

Well, you were not going to any nunnery, that was for sure. You had a plan. An admittedly rough around the edges one, but a plan nonetheless.

Late at night, you quietly packed a large satchel with clothes and essentials. You were getting the hell out of here, and you were going to track down Arthur.

It was his fault this was happening, and you would refuse to leave until he took responsibility. As much as you hated the idea of groveling at his feet, you had no other options. Raising a baby by yourself was basically unheard of, and you were almost certain to screw it up somehow.

The gang was no longer hiding at Clemen’s Point. You knew this because you’d (ashamedly) ridden down to see Arthur about a month after your final meeting, and saw that the land was abandoned.

At the time you figured it was best he was gone. That toxic energy was better off not being in your life, and so what if you craved his red-hot touch every single day, and touched yourself thinking of him, hoping to replicate the feel of his thick fingers massaging your pussy?

Anyway, you had an idea of where he was. He’d told you before that the gang would probably move further east to outrun the Pinkertons, and he’d expressed his distaste of Saint Denis. 

So, he was possibly somewhere near Saint Denis, maybe on the outskirts. You’d have to ask around a bit. It would be a daunting task– a single, defenseless woman in a big, strange city. 

Not to mention pregnant. Maybe you should have taken those shooting lessons after all.

And it wasn’t like he was waiting for you there– surely the gang was laying low, after that crazy shootout with the Grays in town.

You finished packing and sneaked downstairs, careful to stick to the edge of the stairway. Your parents were apparently asleep, and only some of the help was awake this late.

Elisabeth, as kind as she was, couldn’t be trusted. She was in the pay of your mother and therefore on the enemy’s side.

So you had no one, no companion but your horse, Maverick. He was a very dependable creature and honestly your only friend. 

You attached your satchel to his saddle, then got on and quietly directed him off the property. Luckily the help wasn’t paid to ask questions, so no one batted an eye as you passed by. 

You didn’t dare make a sound, or even breathe, until the manor disappeared from view, and all you could see for miles was the forest and the midnight blue sky.

Sighing in relief, you sped up almost to a gallop, going towards Saint Denis. It wasn’t a terribly long ride, but it was long enough and made more difficult by worrying about your…Arthur’s...child. You still couldn’t quite get used to saying that. 

After some time, you arrived in Saint Denis. It was about 12am, and you were eager to be off the road after getting lost several times and nearly falling into a swamp. You led Maverick to a hotel, where you purchased a room for the night.

You laid down on the bed. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the one back home, but it was miles away from your troubles. That was the important bit.

Snuggling into the pillow, you sighed deeply, formulating a plan to look for Arthur. You would try the saloon first; he’d spent a lot of time there in Rhodes, and you were sure he hadn’t changed that habit. After that, perhaps the post office, or the stables. 

You fell asleep dreaming of his beard scratching against your face and his fingers exploring your filthiest bits.

The next morning, you rode over to the saloon and inquired about Arthur with the bartender. “Tall, broad, very handsome, with brown hair,” you explained. “Looks like a gunslinger.”

“Oh yes, him and his pals have come here a few times,” the bartender exclaimed. “They was just down here last night, even.”

Dammit. You’d just missed him. But that confirmed he was in Saint Denis. “Did he say anything about where he was staying?”

He shook his head. “No ma’am, not that I can recall. But just turn up here ‘round six and he’ll surely be here.”

That was that, then. You would come back to the bar later tonight and catch him.

You left the saloon and remounted Maverick in hopeful spirits. Now that you knew for sure he was here, it was okay to relax a bit. And you definitely felt worn out after that long journey.

You stopped by the general store to get some fresh food and an apple for Maverick. A bit of rum would have taken the edge off, but you supposed it wasn’t good given your…condition.

Arriving back at the hotel, you bathed and washed your hair. As silly as it probably was, you wanted to look nice for Arthur. To show that you were a survivor.

Your thoughts drifted. What kind of a father would he be? What kind of family unit would you be? What with him still on the run, still following that silver-tongued Dutch, it would be difficult for you to run from place to place with him. Perhaps he would just tell you to get a room in Saint Denis and he would visit when he could. What if he walked out of your life one day, and never entered it again?

A scenario like that would effectively doom you for life. You weren’t certain you could stomach giving the baby away, but the thought of raising a child with no money or prior knowledge made you equally queasy. 

But even if Arthur let you stay with him– what then? You’d seen the mess that was John Marston’s relationship with his family. And Jack, the little boy. Did you want your child in the same circumstances?

Arthur is not like John, you told yourself firmly. But really, you had no way to tell until he knew.

You spent the day milling about Saint Denis, exploring the markets and seeing the many entertainers on the streets. The people were definitely ruder here, more coarse and quick to anger. It almost made you miss Rhodes.

Almost, anyway.

At about six o’clock you came back to the saloon. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and you mentally prepared yourself for what you were going to say.

Arthur, I’m expecting.

Arthur, I’m pregnant…and it’s yours.

Please help me.

I’ve nowhere else to go.

Please?

You opened the doors, swallowing hard and gritting your teeth.

“Arthur,” you squeaked, then looked around. It was quite full of businessmen, factory workers, and the odd prostitute. 

You carefully took a pace around the room, searching for that familiar form. You looked all over, but didn’t hear him nor see him. Nor anyone from the gang.

Sidling up to the bartender (a different one this time), you asked, “Excuse me, sir, have you seen a…a gunslinger-type fellow here? Brown hair with a beard. Super handsome. You would remember him.”

He thought for a bit while pouring glasses. “Don’t think so, madam. But a lot of people come through here, I might just not remember. If you don’t see him here, you can sit near the door, watch it n’ see if he comes in.”

Sigh. “Alright, thank you kindly.”

You took up a post near the door, awkwardly clutching your satchel, examining everyone that came through the door. More men, some women, even a couple rough-looking folks that looked like the company Arthur kept. But no Arthur.

Unbelievable. Had the bartender from yesterday been mistaken? Or did the gang skip town already?...Most likely, it was just a fluke and they decided not to come today. Dammit!

After about half an hour of waiting, you gave up, just wanting to lie down. You dejectedly got up and exited the saloon.

However, as soon as you did, you almost ran face first into someone’s horse.

The horse nearly trampled you, and you screamed in fear as you tripped and fell to the ground.

“What the hell?!” you cried, shaken. What idiot couldn’t control their horse?

“Dammit, sorry, lady,” a gruff voice spoke. The man got his horse under control after a bit of calming. “You okay– wait…do I know you?”

You got up, dusting off your skirt, looked closer at the man and gasped. It was Bill Williamson, another member of the Van Der Linde gang!

This was an extremely lucky situation. “Bill?” you asked, praying you were right.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Ain’t you…wasn’t you Arthur’s little thing?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes, I know Arthur. Is he here?”

Bill shook his head. “No, he’s back at camp–, err, well, no. He ain’t here. You know, he acted mighty strange after you left–”

“Can you take me to him? Please, Bill,” you begged. “It’s imperative.”

He sighed and scratched his nose. “I was plannin’ on gettin’ drunk…but I s’pose so. But keep your voice down, we’re not exactly best buds with the Pinkertons right now. You got a horse?”

“I do.” 

You quickly mounted Maverick, then followed Bill out of Saint Denis towards the gang’s camp. You were practically buzzing with nervousness. The courage you’d had last night had been used up, and now you were just scared. Would he reject you, force you back to your parents? Or claim that the baby wasn’t his? What if he had a new girl?!

You cleared your throat. “Has he…err, has Arthur…been seeing anyone else since I left?”

Bill laughed. “Arthur? Hell no. I swear, all he talks about is you. Back in Rhodes, he swore up and down you would be back soon. Heh, we all had a good laugh at him then. But I guess the joke’s on us, now that you’re here.”

Well, that was good at least. But why was he so sure you would be back? You’d mutually agreed never to contact each other again.

It was kind of ironic. You’d insisted on cutting him off, yet here you were, chasing him down.

After a few minutes of riding, you finally arrived at the dilapidated house the gang was calling their home. It looked more like a demolition zone to you, but you supposed they would take what they could get after Rhodes.

“Here we are, little lady,” Bill announced. “Arthur!”

You dismounted your horse and went into the main campsite. Karen, Javier, Charles…the gang was all here. You got a few greetings and hand waves from the women.

“Arthur,” Bill barked. “You got a visitor, get out here!”

You stood awkwardly by the entrance of the house, looking in the propped open door, waiting for Arthur with bated breath.

Dutch was sitting by the front door, reading. He looked up when you approached. “Well, welcome back, sweetheart,” he said in that demeaning voice. “You wasn’t followed, were you? A lot of people want us dead right now.”

“Err, no sir, I don’t think so,” you squeaked. Dutch made you uncomfortable. You got the feeling he thought of women as delicate creatures that were lesser than men. Even with the few times you’d been to camp, you had heard the cruel words he flung at and about Molly.

You just hoped none of it had rubbed off on Arthur. You knew he was fiercely loyal to the man.

Heavy footsteps could be heard from inside the house. “Alright, I’m comin’, shut up,” a familiar voice grunted.

A lightning strike bolted down between your legs and you gasped softly when Arthur’s familiar, muscular form filled your vision.

“What-” he started, then froze when his eyes landed on you. His lips parted, but no words came out for a second. “You-”

“Arthur,” you whispered.

This was the greatest day of his life.

Arthur was certain he’d failed to impregnate you. That you’d been living fine all this time, not sparing a single thought to his well being.

But you were here. You’d hunted him down, somehow, and you looked scared out of your mind. And he could guess why.

He licked his lips. “What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart?”

You stared at him for a good few seconds, transfixed by his rugged beauty. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

Arthur took you to the back of the house. The two of you sat in the grass, legs crossed.

“How’d you find me?” he asked.

“By chance,” you said. “I knew you went east, so I asked around at Saint Denis– then I ran straight into Bill.”

He nodded. “You…you got somethin’ to tell me?”

You took a deep breath. Now that the moment was actually here, every nerve in your body was thrumming with anticipation. “I’m…well, actually, I’m…pregnant.”

The only sound was the chirping of birds. 

“Excuse me?” he said quietly.

You felt ashamed. “I’m with child, Arthur. My parents done kicked me out because of it. S’why I came here.”

“You’re pregnant,” he said slowly, like he’d never heard the word before.

“Yes. And you’re the father for sure.”

He stayed silent for a bit, but you could hear his breath accelerate sharply.

You felt scared of what he was thinking. “Arthur?”

After a long period of silence, he said, “Are you showin’ yet?”

What an odd question. “A little.”

“Can I see?”

What? But you obliged, letting him lift up your skirt high enough to show off your bump.

Arthur inhaled sharply, then put his hand on your belly. “That’s– that’s my baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I’m about 4 months along, I think,” you said, fixing your clothes. “So…so are you going to…step up? I don’t have anyone else, Arthur.” Your voice turned squeaky and desperate, and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “My parents wanted to send me to a convent–”

“Baby, hey, shh. I can promise you I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Arthur said hoarsely. “You’re staying here with me.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at his declaration. He was such a…man. Never afraid to take responsibility or action. You were supremely glad that he was going to take care of you and the baby. However long the gang could outrun the Pinkertons, he would, you knew it.

Arthur embraced you, curving his hands around your stomach and kissing your cheek. The two of you rocked back and forth for a minute, in unadulterated bliss. Everything melted away: the camp, the law, your parents. It was just you and him. And the baby between you.

"Told ya, you belong with me," he whispered in your ear.

Arthur was right. You came back again and again and again because you craved the action. You craved excitement and freedom and yes, even bloodshed to a certain extent. There was no use trying to leave him when he represented everything you wanted in life, even the most sinful things.

He was made for you.

Arthur hustled you back up to where Dutch was, fighting a raging erection. Seeing his girl growing round with his baby was insanely satisfying. He felt that was an appropriate reward for everything he had worked for.

And now you were certain to be stuck with him. With a baby in you, you couldn’t do much of anything, much less run away again. He would gently insist that you stay in Shady Belle to recuperate from your no doubt difficult journey east, then as the months went by you would grow more and more dependent on him, stomach getting bigger every day, till you needed his help with the simplest tasks.

He would do it all for you. All this time, Arthur had tried to make you see that your place was by his side. It was just unfortunate that he’d had to resort to deceit to make you realize the truth.

But no matter. All was forgiven. He couldn’t wait to see your pregnant body and show you off to everyone in camp.

And just maybe he would put another kid or two in you, in case you had any doubts after the first one.

Arthur sighed in contentment as he approached Dutch to explain the situation. No matter what, he knew your love was genuine. It burned brighter than the sun, certain to destroy anyone that dared cross its path.

You, him, and your child– you would make a picture perfect family. He was certain of it.

End.

[escapedaudios]

Ok, if you're a VA who uses commissions or art from image libraries, I'm gonna give some quick tips on how to avoid getting scammed or duped by AI images. It's getting harder and harder to avoid them. Besides the known visual signs, here's some red flags I've found the hard way.

If I want custom art, I normally commission or request it from people within the audio RP community, but there have been times when I used sites like Fiverr when on a time crunch. I myself almost got scammed there, so here are some easy red flags.

No line art or sketch option available on their pricing list. This is a big red flag. Actual artists usually allow this option.

No work in progress options offered by the seller. Revisions only offered when a complete product has been delivered. Real artists don't do this, and would rather get revision feedback at the sketch stage.

No interest in reference images. They're only interested in prompt input.

If you don't use custom art, be careful. A lot of image libraries are clogged with AI images now too. Most have them tagged. If you use any, be mindful to look for images tagged as AI-generated and avoid those platforms completely. Even paid libraries like Adobe Stock now have more and more AI shit clogging their output. If you're searching a platform like deviantArt and asking the artists permission to use an image of theirs, check their other art. If there's no consistent, discernible art style, they're probably posting AI shit. Avoid them too.

Also, look for all the other tell-tale signs of course, and never hurry. It's easy to get tricked if you just give a cursory glance. I've seen VAs get duped before and I very nearly got duped once on Fiverr before because I didn't look closely at the "artists" portfolio (I was thankfully able to get a refund after fighting tooth and nail for it). I've seen VAs that used to rely on services like Adobe Stock or free image libraries like Pixabay get duped when they started introducing AI to their stock images. I hate that this is an issue now but you have to be careful.

Anyway, I think the best option is to use art from people within the audio RP community. Showcase their work, buy commissions, whatever, just stick with people that you know are real human artists and part of the community. It's hell out there right now.

[joejhang]

my problem with raven!neil

this may be controversial but i've actually found that i don't rlly like raven!neil fics and aus. and here is my thesis. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.

crucial distinction here is that i don't actually dislike the concept of "raven!neil" as an individual character concept. i think it's actually very interesting to look into the sort of person neil would be if things had been slightly different. that is, obviously, the point of au fics and headcanons. my actual problem with raven!neil is mostly when fic writers and the fandom in general put him in context and into au fics and then the problems start arising. i'm being purposefully vague but i'm gonna go into all the problems i've come across when it comes to raven!neil.

first off, and this is something i've mentioned before, i think the fandom tends to strip abuse victims (particularly the characters who got out of the nest) of literally any agency or individuality. this happened with jean, when the whole fandom seemed to collectively uwufy him as if he isn't an adult (yes he's young yes he's barely an adult but he IS and i would argue thinking of him as a child still does him no good) with massive amounts of trauma. yes, jean has a learned fear of riko and tetsuji (and coaches by extension bc of the abuse from raven coaches) but he actually doesn't harbour much fear towards anyone else? he has come to expect violent retribution/punishment and does sort of have this problem where he bares his throat for the knife (when he puts the racquet in rhemann's hands and when he expects laila to hit him back) but other than that he actually doesn't demonstrate a lot of fear or panic when engaging with others.

i think the same would go for neil. the neil in current canon quite literally has no fears that do not trace back to his father. he doesn't fear riko, tetsuji, ichirou, andrew, drake or even lola and his father's men. where he does show fear is whenever his father gets involved. he isn't afraid of riko or anything riko has to say until riko brings nathan wesninski into it. the closest thing he comes to fear for anyone else is when he flinches from wymack but i'd call that survival instinct rather than like...fear. he doesn't have much of an emotional response, just an instinctual and physical one.

we obviously have no idea how neil's fear would develop if he had grown up at the nest. i'm not sure how much of a difference it would've made, honestly. obviously, those eight years on the run heavily reinforced his fear, so i don't really know where that fear would go if he was stagnant at the nest and confirmed (?) to be safe from his father. i think one of neil's key personality traits actually is his bravery and fearlessness, so i can't really see neil ever being truly afraid of tetsuji and riko. if you want to compare jean and neil in this aspect, all i'd say is: people have different responses for trauma. neil is not jean 2.0 or vice versa. even if they were put in virtually the same environment with the same treatment, they are still different people with different personalities. thus, they respond in different ways. just like jean and kevin responded in different ways, though their situations are implied to have been very different.

besides the point of fear and object of fear, i don't actually think being afraid of ur abusers means ur a baby that should be coddled and uwufied by the fandom. it's actually completely normal and human, so i actually have no clue why the fandom decided to do this with jean.

as someone in the tags of one of my previous posts so aptly said, autonomy ≠ agency. did kevin and jean have autonomy in the nest? no. but they did have agency. stripping abuse victims of agency and personality is actually so harmful and i think it's way too normalised in fandom culture. but that's a discussion for another day. we've all heard the comparison of the fear responses in relation to andrew (fight), neil (flight), kevin (freeze) and jean (fawn). i actually think these are mostly accurate, but it doesn't do any good to simplify it so completely.

neil having to remain sedentary rather than running away and never stopping or looking back is inevitably going to alter his responses to situations. neil's knee-jerk reaction to traumatic events or news in the og trilogy is literally: go on a run. this might still be the case in the nest, but i doubt it. i've said before that i think neil is the type of person to fight back. u could argue in response to that that jean was also fierce and angry when he got to the nest but developed something akin to learned helplessness where he simply stopped fighting back as a trauma response. but again: neil and jean are not the same person. they may have similar personalities, but everyone is different. you can't boil down all the victims of a particular abusive situation into the same person. this is stripping them of agency and individuality, once again. jean learned to stop fighting back and even ask for violent punishment for "wrongdoing" but i honestly don't think neil would. again, not because he's superior or inferior to jean, he's just a different person entirely. his time at evermore in trk was effectively a trial run for the time that riko intended neil to spend there after the year ended. we don't know exactly, but it's probably safe to assume that riko tried to cram as much of the abuse that kevin and jean received over several years into those two/three weeks. i mean, neil got fucking waterboarded and handcuffed to the bed for fuck's sake. i think at some point neil does say that he bowed his head and played at subservience, but when it really came down to riko and tetsuji trying to force neil to do something he adamantly did not want to do (sign the raven's contract) he literally just refused and didn't relent even under torture. jean even said he thought riko might've killed neil for it. neil was literally ready to die rather than bend to riko's will.

obviously, things would be different with kevin and jean in the equation. i can see neil reining himself in for their sake, but this brings me to another issue i have with raven!neil. and that is the strange need to turn neil into a protector figure. i.e. a human meat shield with a martyr complex for kevin and jean. every time i sense any iteration of this in any fic or hc i literally have to stop reading. it's just so...like random to me. neil has literally not been a "protector" in canon in fact he's almost always the one being "protected" (andrew's deal to literally protect neil from his father, wymack and abby's protectiveness, etc). yes, neil has protective instincts but so does literally every human being. neil is, in my opinion, no more or less protective than anyone else. compare this to say, andrew, who is known for his role as the "protector" (beating up the guys who hurt nicky, killing aaron's mother + getting rid of his addiction, making deals w kevin + neil). i've also written another extensive essay about why neil isn't and will never be the martyr or sacrificial lamb that some ppl seem to want him to be, so i won't go into it here. just please please please read the series back and realise: neil is quite literally the opposite of a martyr. i just have no idea where the idea of neil as a martyr or protective figure came in. especially in regards to kevin and jean.

it bears noting the first time neil meets riko with kevin there. at kathy's, neil doesn't hesitate to defend kevin and clock riko's shit. but note: defending ≠ protecting. and even if you do want to call that protecting, neil's way of "protecting" has never been in a martyring, self-sacrificial, human shield way. he is almost always on the offensive (clocking riko rather than directly defending kevin, punching riko, etc etc). neil is a natural instigator, and it would be such a disservice to him to erase that characteristic of his in raven!neil fics.

there are also several times in the series where neil's offensive actions have consequences that directly impact his loved ones and other people. like the first time neil insulted riko, a man literally died. the second time, drake attacked andrew. the third, neil took a trip to hell on earth and spent three weeks at evermore. the fourth, the foxes' and other athletes' cars got trashed. there's probably more that i'm not remembering, but you get the idea. neil feels guilt but never regret for this. he literally says verbatim that he isn't sorry for what he said about riko/the ravens even after the cars get wrecked and the others seem to blame him. so while i can see neil ducking his head and submitting to prevent jean/kevin getting hurt, it's also worth noting that if neil really cared that much about consequences, he probably would've stopped openly and loudly insulting riko in public after seth was murdered the first time. neil knew, or at least had a hunch, that it was his fault. did that stop him from doing it again? hell no. it can be both a character flaw and strength, but it's also just a fact. neil does not think that much about consequence. he sort of just does what he wants when he wants. it's a part of his personality. while there's no telling what about his personality would've changed at the nest, the fact that ten years living with a mob boss serial killer and eight years on the run from said mob boss serial killer didn't seem to kill that mouth of his, idk what would.

my final point is that when the raven!neil fic has andreil in it, it turns into andrew "saving" neil from his situation. words can't explain how much i hate this take on things. especially when it usually comes out of nowhere as well. bfr, andrew is not gonna risk his life to "save" some pretty redhead that comes his way without some pre-established connection. i also just think the idea of a "saviour" in a relationship is actually insane. as someone who is consistently pissed off and triggered by imbalance in relationships, this irritates me to no end. andreil obviously are protective and care for each other. that's a known fact. but i feel like w raven!neil fics they tend to exaggerate this and make it insanely one-sided. like andrew is some superhero type figure that needs to save damsel-in-distress neil who has a penchant for out-of-character martyrdom and is trapped in a horribly abusive situation. it sounds like i'm just hyperbolising no this is actually in all of the raven!neil fics that i've read. this exact dynamic. i hate it oh my god. it's not only entirely out of character i don't even think it works for them. like this should not be what their relationship is about or based off of. this last bit might just be a personal thing but i just hate hate hate it and it feels so wrong to force andreil into this kind of a dynamic. just leave my boys alone i'm BEGGING.

the aftg fandom does have this problem that should be addressed where they tend to coddle and uwufy abuse victims (particularly kevin, neil and jean in the context of the nest) and strip them down to easily digestible stereotypes. but this literally could not be further from the truth in canon. y'all forget how actually bitchy neil, jean and kevin are as individuals. kevin's fear of riko and tetsuji is bone-deep, but that never stopped him from picking fights with the foxes and hitting back whenever they had a problem w him (the only exception being andrew, but kevin already said, he lets andrew walk him like a dog out of sort-of thanks that andrew is letting him stay at psu). jean is also sort of an asshole (affectionate) back in the og trilogy and lowk in tsc too. he has a seemingly endless supply of insults for literally everyone and literally thinks about breaking jeremy's fingers for treating him too warily. he consistently gets annoyed when the trojans are too careful with him and remember when he literally threw jeremy to the floor during practice? yeah. seriously, stop boiling down these very traumatised individuals to their fear and history of abuse and erase any other part of their personality that makes them an interesting, well-rounded individual. it's so irritating to read and have to deal with the gross misinterpretation and mischaracterisation of these very well-loved characters. they deserve better, and these things also bely some very pertinent issues within fandom culture at large that should be talked about and critiqued more. jesus this is long anyway thank you for reading.

[deathsmallcaps]

Actually I think my tags were decent

#I like thinking about flags because I like the colors and the designs #not just pride flags but also country flags #however flags walk (and sadly often sway towards the conservative side) between #patriotism (healthy expressions of realistic and nuanced love towards your country/group) #and nationalism (obsession with one's nation/country/group to the point of disparaging others and avoiding the group's faults) #walk the line between those concepts #but like. colors and shapes! # once painted a huge banner with many different flags in the shapes of letters #it makes my autism purr just thinking about it <3 #but yeah don't let symbols be your personality. or at least make your own. #fun flag fact: Dominica (NOT the Dominican Republic that's a different Caribbean country) is the only country in the world with #purple on their flag #they have a rare type of green and purple parrot that is only really found on their island #so they decided to celebrate it and put it on their flag! #I loved painting that flag (of course I included it lmao)

Don’t let yourself go from being patriotically your type of queer to nationalistically!!! Reject boxes, welcome label hoppers, don’t make ASSumptions, and explore yourself beyond your macro-traits! Sure you might be a he/him dark academia lesbian, but don’t let that stop you from doing something incongruous, like [random example rolls in] buying hot wheels toy cars and gluing them to the bottom of your shoes to see if you can roller skate!

If you think you’re serious don’t be afraid to be silly sometimes. If you think you’re silly don’t forget that some topics need genuine and thoughtful interaction. If you’re short you can still play basketball. If you’re tall you can still ride a horse. If you feel that you’re medium in every way you can still be extraordinary in some way - maybe you make the best jello salads in the world.

In any case, we’re all queer/ally tumblrinas here - we’re meant to explore the world outside of boxes :)

do you think that a certain genre of queer person is so obsessively weird about pride flag discourse becuase their flags fill the gaping hole in their personality where a hogwarts house used to be

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

Things I think the fandom just willfully ignores or has no idea about that would be super easy to slip into your fanfiction if you want to be inclusive and try out new things.

Lucifer just likes shibari, nawajutsu, or some form of rope tying art, and there's nothing inherently sexual about the excitement it brings him. He's a sadist too, but attraction to the other party would only add to the experience, not be necessary or a byproduct.

Belphegor could age regress and nobody would really be the wiser because of his position as coddled/spoiled youngest child. Even if they were, it doesn't change anything, really.

Beelzebub can fuck. He's also a cannibal. Do I need to say the vore word for you to understand how underutilized food/gore as a love language would be with him? No, it doesn't need to be sexual either, but goddamn so many keep treating him like UwU baby when he kills demons in cold blood because he hungy

Asmodeus is any gender or sexuality you want him to be. Lust ≠ attraction, and you can make him asexual. He's pretty free with how he presents. Also, his fans are so desperate for nice content on him that they'll take anything too. Nobody is going to kill you over this.

Mammon's greed can also be depicted as someone who wants to monopolize your time and/or affections. He attempts plenty of times in canon.

Barbatos' strongest attachment is Diavolo, but he does care about other beings. As long as they're not getting in the way of Diavolo, he's allowed to show care in his own way goddamnit. He's not an ice statue.

Mammon is allowed to be a non-sexual masochist. I don't know why people think all kinks are sexual, BUT HE'S ALLOWED.

I just want to take a moment to acknowledge bloodlust counting as a lust.

Luke is a genuinely deep character with a compelling story and important appearances, and you will be doing better than 99% of the fandom if you just acknowledge that he's more than just a kid who tags along and whines when he's scared (like all kids do when they're his age btw). Kicking him to the side is just another child discrimination case, and you can just say you don't understand him...

Almost everyone if not everyone has had a 1-on-1 in this series, and you're allowed to write about that scenario that "seems ooc" because there's someone out there who wishes that they could write who wants to see them interact, and they haven't found you because you haven't made yourself known.

I think over 75% of the cast has what humans would call a trauma disorder, and you guys have got to stop ignoring the fact that Solmare usually just brushes over stuff that genuinely affects them to keep the plot going. They've done it since the beginning, even before the cursed lesson 16.

Non-character-specific stuff under the cut:

You can headcanon and write any character that you want to as aromantic or on the spectrum. Also, news flash: familial, platonic, romantic, and sexual are not the only relationship labels to exist. Go look up "alterous attraction" if you wanna do something that would line up with, you know, emotions that aren't all centered around how our society depicts stuff.

If they're all built like that and inherently different from humans, neurodivergence may not exist to demons but have fun with the headcanons anyways. The world is your oyster.

[pppeachyyys]

you're my seasons - akaashi keiji

✩ synopsis - in which the regular walk home with akaashi from school suddenly takes a twist, and turns out it's for the better.

✩ tags! fluff, mutual pining, veryyy self indulgent / focuses on readers pov, inspo by seasons. by wave to earth, winter walks!!!, gn neutral however reader is hinted at being shorter once

the walk home from school is silent. the only sounds that fill your ears is the crunch of leftover snow and occasional sniff due to the chilly air. 

as always, you're walking with akaashi. it was the norm, you study in the library or go to clubs and wait for him to finish practice. you exchange small talk with him before walking home together in a comforting silence. 

it has been like this since the third year of junior high; you and akaashi are still good friends that simply enjoy the company of each other. 

akaashis eyes don't tear away from what's in front of him, but his words are directly looking at you. "despite there not being much snow, it's still freezing." he comments. you simply nod, your fingers reaching to clutch your scarf. 

the friendship you guys shared was polite. it was nothing like the way bokuto would launch his sweaty self all over the setter, it was nothing like the way his two managers would tease and poke fun at him. 

it could be perceived as gentle; however, it felt like restraint. you were scared to reach out for him the way his other friends do. you want to lean your head on his shoulder, weave your fingers with his nimble ones, stare into his eyes for hours.

there's no way you view akaashi as a friend. but you believed that he simply saw you as a companion to experience tranquility with, nothing more nor nothing less.

you don't want it to be silent, so you respond. "i didn't expect it to be this windy." 

he notices the way your palms fist together in an attempt to find warmth. his head doesn't move, but his pupils dart over to watch your actions. 

"are your hands cold, y/n?"

the street feels icy. with every step you take, you feel your legs wobble in search for a foundation to keep you from slipping. he's quick to notice this as well. 

"yeah. i'll just stuff them into my pockets, even if it doesn't help much." 

just as you're about to insert your hands into the pockets of your blazer, the front of akaashi's palm is quick to brush against yours. you want it bask in that teasing touch more, but you instinctively pull away.

now you can feel his eyes on you but you don't exchange his look back. are his brows furrowed? would he have a smile on his face? you refuse to answer your question.

"y/n, you don't need to run away from me." 

the walk suddenly comes to a stop. you're now facing him and hes facing you. "what is that supposed to mean?" you ask. 

every sentence is followed with steam whispering into the air. it's now truly silent, and there's nothing to listen to.

that is until akaashi speaks once more. his nose and ears are pink from the chill. "it's okay if we're closer. this distance we have right now... don't you feel like it's getting in the way?"

there is no possible way he is saying these words just to say it, and you're sure of it. gunmetal pigmented eyes are locked right onto your own and the both of you don't want to escape from it. without thinking twice, you're quick to give him a response.

"if we got closer, i think i won't be able to see you as just a friend."

"what if i want us to be closer?"

you realize it's not silent and it's actually loud. your heart is pounding so rapidly that it's almost like each beat can be heard; you think that you can hear akaashi's heart too. it's in sync, there's a connection that desires to eliminate any space or obstacle.

"could i ask you if we can be more than friends, y/n? i want more of what we have and get farther into it. so please, tell me how you feel."

not only is it loud, but it's getting warm. the two of you feel heat rushing around the body. you think the adrenaline is causing you to reach towards him, or maybe it's because he's finally told you the truth. 

in mere seconds that feel like eternity, you stand on your tippie toes and take in his warmth, your lips meeting his and it almost feels perfect. one of his hands go over to the back of your head and the other against your back in an attempt to keep you from slipping. in response to his yearning, your fingers paw at his blazer draped onto his broad chest.

this touch feels ethereal. the proximity eliminated, the only feeling and thought left being love. you don't want this to end, and he doesn't let you go.

with a whisper of the air, his lips pull away from yours and he feels so fufilled. a small smile blooms on his face. 

it still feels cold, silent, and tranquil; however, there is a sense of satisfaction laid onto the scene. akaashi believes he's in love, and you  are the one to give it to him.