#but when it's the other way it's - make sure you're really sure cause you're permanently ruining your body forever

[ransomdemands]

yknow sometimes the way trans women talk about testosterone and being on estrogen is indistinguishable from the way terfs try to convince afab people not to start hrt

this is not a criticism mind you, their experiences are their own and completely legitimate, it's just a matter of competing needs - they need a safe space to talk about their dysphoria and how testosterone makes them feel and i need to not hear about how i am destroying my body with hrt

ordinarily these things are pretty insular to transfem circles but since instagram has been feeding me transfem content i'm seeing it more and more and yet again the algorithm is fucking me

[alllgator-blood]

FINISHED THAT ONE COMIC I POSTED ABOUT ALMOST 30 FULL DAYS AGO?? I FINALLY REMEMBERED IT EXISTED AND FINISHED IT. I HAVE SO MUCH I WANT TO SAY ABOUT MY LAMB NOW THAT THEY'RE FINALLY THE MAIN CHARACTER IN A LONG COMIC, BUT it went on forever so I put it below the cut.

While we're above the cut, I have a bunch of REALLy good asks I'll be trying to draw for soon. But keep an eye out for a poll coming up soon...cause now that this is out of the way, I want another big project to have in the background and I have Big Ideas for Big Angst Comics........

OH YOU CLICKED THE THING, NICE. OKAY. SO:

Have I ever talked about how my lamb works?? I need to do more with them but I'm a bishop enjoyer to an obsessive degree. The lamb operates on the same kind of level as kallamar did during the breakdown comic, but on a more permanent, more stable level. After being told to hide for their whole life, to never show their face and not even being given a name......being beheaded by four gods and recruited by a fifth forgotten one who claims they're the Chosen One just made the lamb think "OH! None of this is real. My brain wanted me to feel important before I died, and this is my dying vision. Okay, I'll play along >:)" and now they're the equivalent of when you beat a game and replay it while picking the funniest/worst options to see what'd happen.

USUALLY their decisions are clouded by the assumption that nothing they do actually matters, but they're still......a person who held things dear and had standards while they were alive. So they love hijinx, but aren't like leshy who launches people out of catapults for fun, or kallamar who sees mortals more as lab rats than people living their own lives. They'll do some things for the lolz but their humanity definitely shows through when dealing with someone like shamura.

I think they went into the bishop slaying quest wanting to hate shamura, assuming they were an irredeemable antagonist that deserved to be vanquished. They were told by narinder that shamura was the big bad, so they figured there was nothing to it beyond that. But then they actually MET shamura, who wasn't at all what they were expected to be. Every other bishop is just like "RAHH I'LL KILL YOU" when you meet them, and then shamura is the only person who actually tells you about what happened, speaks to you like a person and not an obstacle, and doesn't seem bothered about the fact they're going to die. So that got them thinking....hmm...perhaps these people are slightly more realistic than I anticipated. Still gonna kill them tho

I'm not sure the lamb hates the bishops, especially after the realization that they're a fucked up family acting out in desperation rather than logic. When you're born into circumstances you know will eventually doom you (like being a sacrificial lamb destined for slaughter) you kinda...lose the ability to care after a while. They don't really *forgive* the bishops for the slaughter of their people, and definitely enjoy bullying them and kicking them around now that they're powerless mortals- but the initial horror of being born to die has subsided. Now that they're presumably in some kind of afterlife, and have better, more fun things to move onto now that they're the ruler of everything- it's not worth it to hate those five forever.

I think *because* the lamb has only been a god very briefly and still remembers mortality well, that's why they're the one god who does things "because they're funny" but also is respectful of people like shamura. It's like when you're playing GTA V and you accidentally drive over a dog while trying to pull over and look at it closer. Is it a real dog?? No but you're still gonna feel bad!! So like I said, in the lamb's mind they have NO reason to care about any of these people or show them mercy, but the fact that they're not as detached from mortality as the bishops were makes them a benevolent god. I'll be doing a comic about this very subject in the future and it WILL be depressing >:)

Also. Unrelated. But if you read this far, I feel the need to justify why heket and leshy suddenly have boobs in this comic. I'm sure it's obvious that I headcanon the gods don't have sex characteristics cause like...why would they need those. I don't want to draw that. But as MORTALS they would probably need to have all their organs intact to function properly, so pour one out for shamura + leshy who probably completely forgot they were transgender until they woke up in mortal bodies. NOT SURE HOW KALLAMAR WOULD REACT, I think they're more just horrified they lost all their tentacles

I debated doing another silly comic about the concept but I don't want this blog to get too raunchy, so instead have this epic ms paint art (I CAN MAKE THESE JOKES, I'M AFAB TRANS I DESERVE THIS ONE THING)

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 25] || [Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 27]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2k~ cw: smut, penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), gay sex (anal) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're almost THERE

Chapter 26: Smart mouth

If you thought last time you guys did this was too much, you weren’t ready for this afternoon.

Had you had all your braincells intact, you would’ve pondered HOW John would end up adding to this, if it was even possible to add an extra person…

But they weren’t intact. You were utterly fucked out, stars prickling at the corner of your eyes…

You were lying on your tummy, legs spread apart to either side of the bed, Kyle steadily snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of his cock plunging into you wet and slick echoing in the room, not even concealed by your muffled moans.

Your head was craned back, your neck straining a bit in that position to allow for Johnny’s cock to plunge deep into your mouth, muffling any of the cries of pleasuring coming from you.

It didn’t help that Johnny was not controlling himself, his cock hammering into your mouth with wild abandon.

But that must have had something to do with the fact Simon was fucking him from behind, a hand gripping Johnny around the hip, the other holding your hair to make sure he stayed buried in your mouth.

The corners of your mouth hurt, Johnny’s shaft so impossibly thick, just like the rest of him, that you couldn’t help but whine and whimper at the stretch it forced your mouth to perform.

And Kyle with his damn moans and sighs behind you, his lengthy cock plunging so deep inside you, his thighs nearly permanently glued to your ass more often than not.

“Tha’s it… Wanted to ‘ave a fucking smart mouth, did ya?” Simon taunts who you know is Johnny, but frankly he feels like he could be speaking to any of you really.

“I-I… I’m sorry L.T.!” Johnny whines, his eyes rolling back, his back pressed firmly against Simon’s chest, head lolling against the taller man’s shoulder.

“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to the pretty thing that’s got you all the way down their throat.” Simon replies, his tone bossy and authoritative.

“I-I’m sorry, bonnie… A-Ah…” Johnny got interrupted halfway as Simon’s hand bobbed your head back and forth, causing some audible sounds of you choking.

“Fuck… Looks so good…” Kyle huffed behind you, bent halfway over your body, panting right against your shoulder blade.

All he could see from that angle was your nose burrowed to Johnny’s pelvis, Simon’s hand in your hair, tears in your eyes…

Simon’s hand left your hair for a moment, allowing you to swallow the build up of saliva in your mouth and to breathe better through your nose, instead caressing Kyle’s cheek, his thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“You’re all doin’ so good f’r me…” Simon tells you, Kyle’s eyes closing at the praise, his lips parting to suck Simon’s thumb. “Good…”

Your eyes watch the entire scene, or… they would, if you weren’t already 2 orgasms in, too fucked out to think of anything at all beyond the fact this all feels too good.

-

You find yourself stirring awake by a sudden lack of warmth and groggily look around to notice Kyle leaving the warm pile of bodies on your bed, revealing your back to the cold air of the bedroom.

Grunting softly, you're shushed by a kiss on the crown of your head and an arm wrapping around you tighter, rubbing your bare back.

You’re hugging onto Simon, who has an arm around you. Kyle had been behind you this whole time, spooning you, and Johnny had been behind him.

“He's going to let John in,” Simon tells you as he keeps rubbing your back, gentle kisses pressed to the top of your head.

Johnny is sleeping soundly, just like you had been, his breathing steady, not quite a snore, but loud enough.

“John?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, he texted me about an hour ago, asking if we wanted dinner.” Simon tells you.

“Dinner?” Johnny murmurs in a half-awake state.

“Bloody ‘ell, did’ya wake up at the mention of food?’ Simon quips with a soft rumble of a laugh against your ear. It sounds like he's purring…

Johnny scoots closer, taking up the space that Kyle had been in until now, his lips beginning to press kisses to your bare shoulder.

“I'm so sore…” You murmur, lamenting how sluggish you feel, not to mention your cotton mouth.

After your session, you had all taken turns showering and Simon had made sure to get you all to drink water, but that did little to help your sorry state.

“At least ye don't have a bum knee.” Johnny quips behind you.

“And don't pull a muscle while sitting down,” Simon remarks.

“Or fuck up your back while having a one night stand.” John announces when he shows up at the bedroom door, Kyle right behind him.

Besides Simon, John’s the only one that's dressed, a pair of dark blue jeans, a white undershirt and a brown sweater on top, his hair slightly disheveled from having taken off the beanie he usually wears as a civvy.

“Hi…!” You greet him lazily.

“Hi, darling.” John replies as he approaches the bed.

He drops a kiss to Simon’s head, a peck on the lips for you, and runs a hand over Johnny’s messy mohawk.

“I see you lot had some fun, hm?” John teases before crouching by the bedside.

“‘f course we did, sir.” Johnny jokes with what you know is a sly little smirk on his lips.

“How about you lot get dressed and get some food, hm?” He quipped and ran a hand through your hair as you remained warm sandwiched between Johnny and Simon. “I brought Indian.”

“Ooh, butter chicken?!” Johnny remarks and immediately bounces up, trampling over you and Simon to get off the bed, causing you both to groan.

“I just said I'm SORE!” You scold Johnny as he starts gathering his clothes, which Kyle is also doing for himself.

“Clearly not sore enough! Guess I didn't fuck yer throat hard enough if your mouth is still yapping.” Johnny retorts, causing you to gasp.

“Johnny-” Simon replies as he slowly shifts and stands up as if already threatening him with another fucking to get the attitude out of him again.

“Tough talk for someone that had a cock up the ass 3 hours ago.” Kyle quips from beside him.

“HAUD YER YEESHT! You’re just bitter Simon didn’t fuck ye!” Johnny retorts as he nudges Kyle, the two of them picking up on their usual bickering.

“I wouldn't count that as fucking, more like putting you in your place.” Simon replies swiftly, joining Kyle in tag teaming Johnny.

“My PLACE?!” Johnny gasps.

John takes a seat in the spot Simon had been occupying, letting you curl up to him instead as the lads descend into the madness that is their usual bickering.

John’s arms pull you up onto his lap, wrapping you in a warm hug, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both gaze at the loud men in your bedroom.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with them.” He tells you playfully.

“And I'm sorry that you've been dealing with them for so long.” You retort.

You both share a glance and a chuckle.

"You know if you ever want a break from them... I've got my own place..." John suggests with narrowed eyes and a smile, puffy cheeks lightly pink.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[akutasoda]

Heyeyey can I request boothill, Sunday and aventurine with a fem s/o who’s always on her phone? Like even when it’s charging or even when they’re cuddling she just has to be on her phone?

screentime overload

synopsis - how are they with a s/o who cannot put their phone down?

includes - aventurine, sunday, boothill

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns used), fluff, crack, wc - 721

aventurine ★↷

↪he can be a bit of a fifty fifty when it comes to his phone. normally the only time he uses it is for IPC relevant things, messaging you or ratio and if he's really bored, mindless scrolling. his work can keep him rather busy and so he doesn't exactly have the time to sit around all day.

↪so he found it quite amusing to a degree when he noticed how absorbed you were in your phone. it really didn't take long for him to notice how you practically treated it as a lifeline because no matter where you were your phone was near aswell - more accurately near to your line of sight.

↪it did bring him some comfort in knowing that you would always see his messages because he could always take an accurate guess that you were on your phone and able to respond as quick as possible.

↪however he did find it quite ridiculous that sometimes he'd find you curled up by your charger, phone still in hand. surely you had other things to be doing? maybe you're phone needed a break from you eventually?

↪it didn't bother him per say, but he would prefer it if, when he saw you after a while, that you actually make the effort to pry your gaze from your phone and to him.

↪sometimes he can be quite the menace, especially when, in the morning, you wake up and search for your phone but don't get very far as aventurine would have you in a near death grip hug.

sunday ★↷

↪definitely isn't a phone kind of person. sure he has one but it's mainly for work or managing the dreamscape and most likely only had a couple of actual contacts - yours and robins. he probably could go very happily without his phone.

↪and so he truly doesn't understand why you're so attached to yours. at first he thought that you probably had something going on that needed managing, but when he saw you day in and day out staring down at your screen, he got slightly worried and confused.

↪it baffled him that you could actually spend so much time staring down at that screen but eventually he started getting more concerned that you were causing permanent damage to your eyes. he's the type of person who would tell you about the damage phones can do to you when he sees you laser focused on your phone.

↪in a similar way, he does find a slight comfort in knowing that if he needs to reach you he can. the one day you don't actually get his messages and respond very quickly is the day he panics.

↪sunday isn't exactly the keenest when it comes to physical affection, but when he does come around and finally gets time off to spend with you, he does not want you on your phone for that. if you get unlucky he might start contemplating hiding your phone.

boothill ★↷

↪another fifty fifty. he isn't exactly literate and so any messages are sent via voice recordings and such, this also probably means that he doesn't spend that much time on his phone in general - especially as a galaxy ranger who has bounties to hunt instead.

↪that being said, his phone gets put through the wringer alot. it isn't exactly his top priority in keeping safe when on a mission, so he either loses it or it gets very badly damaged to the point that sometimes you can't even tell it was meant to be a phone.

↪so he did struggle a bit to to comprehend how and why you spent so much time on your phone. he only started getting annoyed when he realised that your phone was robbing him from your affection and time. boothill did once threaten to eat your phone.

↪he still finds it very ridiculous that you spend so much time in your phone, especially when he has caught you multiple times using your phone while it's charging or when you really shouldn't be.

↪but he doesn't mind too much as long as you actually still give him some affection and don't spend that time with your phone in hand again - especially when he gets time to return to you after hunting a bounty or two.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[yan-randomfandom]

Hiii baby! Can I request Jinx, Cait and if you do Maddie (all separately) w/ a gf who is dose very crafty/homemade makeovers?

Hear me out- why spend money on a cut & color, new piercing, nails ect when your hg can do it for you herself?? (I just grew up poor and had to learn😭😭)

Jinx, Caitlyn, & Maddie with a crafty girlfriend headcanons!!

a/n: omg its so nice that you rose up & learned em😭 such a fun request! this one is written before act 3

I didn't proofread or edit so please feel free to point out anything that's bothering you 😭

also this might be ooc.... im so sorry if it is😔

Let's go and start with ...

🌀

Jinx

Jinx has an established style with her neon painted nails, twin braids, inventions, and everything in her possession. An endearing fashion sense, even if some think it looks ridiculous lmaooo

With Jinx being an artisan and artist herself, you both find being creative a common ground in your relationship!

Makeovers anytime, anywhere. No need to find professionals when you have your girlfriend right here! It's a give and take relationship for sure. I imagine it'd be so fun and full of laughs 😩

Also I think you guys will inspire each other back and forth lolol

Having an art block and you don't like it? Ask the other for help!

And if you're both having art blocks? Well, Jinx will take you out on vastly different spots until you find what you're looking for. It's a great way to bond, and sightseeing is nice (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

When you're exploring new styles, and you aren't doing it on Jinx, she would love to simply watch you work. It has some sort of calming effect on her, especially if you're rambling while doing it.

If she sees something of your art that she likes, she might just copy you in her style! Kind of like how Jinx did that makeup when she was in Vi's apartment or something

Although don't be surprised if you wake up and see your face horrendously painted in the morning 😔

You can't even revenge because she sleeps with one eye open, I fear

☄️

Caitlyn

MAN. I feel like you'd have to beg Caitlyn for even the simplest makeovers. She looks so plain rn (in the style way) or am I just blind 😭

You suppose it makes sense. She looks so perfect and you keep giving compliments. Like, why is she so pretty?? There's just so many possibilities you can do with her appearance!!

But, sadly, she doesn't let you give her makeovers much. Not that she doesn't like your work, she respects it and adores it, but arts isn't exactly her thing.

I think make-up of any kind would probably feel uncomfortable for her. Plus it would be a hassle to remove it, she would say.

What you can do is give her hair a trim. A perfect line, as much as possible. She comes to you when her hair feels longer, or more damaged, than usual. Granted, it can be boring, but you're just glad you're doing something for her.

Another thing is that you can choose outfits for her. You can doll her up anytime as long as you don't take too long picking combinations!

If she has time, she'll probably let you paint her nails. Make sure she doesn't regret it, or else she might never let you again.

She'd buy anything you want, by the way. Money isn't a problem for her. So you technically have unlimited supplies, thank goodness, 'cause sometimes they can be so expensive.

You jokingly tell her that even if you break up, if she ever changes her mind about getting something, she'll come to you. Absolute dibs on Caitlyn!!

🍯

Maddie

I feel like Maddie has never really delved into bodily artworks, since she spent most of her time studying about laws and stuff.

Like,, do we agree on the motion that she cut her hair so she doesn't have to deal with it 😭 Less weight during missions too

So when her amazing girlfriend happens to be passionate about creatives? Oh, boy, she's going to be filled with curiosity.

She'll allow you to do anything you want to her, as long as it isn't permanent. In fact, she's super enthusiastic about it, always trusting the process and seeing the result.

You're so creative that it's impressive!! Even if it isn't your best work, she always finds a way to praise you 😭

She'd love to watch you work as well, but she's not exactly the quiet type 🥲

Expect a whole bunch of questions. "What's that for?" "Why are you putting that?" "Ooh, that technique looks complicated. How—"

One of your quality time is definitely you trying to teach her new things. Let her paint your nails, do your hair, and anything that can make you both happy.

If you make clips or whatnot, you definitely try to overload her fluffy hair with decoration. You try different hairstyles possible with that length of hers.

Sometimes, you catch her playing around with your make-up alone. It almost always ends with you fixing it up for her 😭

you, showing your new haircut (it looks horrible): yoooo isn't this so rizzing

jinx: hell yeah

caitlyn: you are not going out like that. go get your unnecessary amount of hair extensions and choose from there

maddie: hell yeah

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

[d6volution]

imagine jax eaves dropping over you, his one and only fuck buddy and ragatha, something about you confessing to RAGATHA ?? spoiler alert she was helping you to practice your confession to jax !! he doesn't know about that part since he left silently fuming, now here he is waiting at your room. long story short jealous sex turns fluffy :)

yes yes a thousand times yes.

---------

tags: oral sex, rough oral sex, jealousy, misunderstandings, confessions, smut, and fluff.

minors dni.

more below the cut.

You and Jax had established a .. friends with benefits type of relationship as of late. The next best thing to keep your brain stimulated was well... sex. And boy did it work, Jax knew how to push your buttons, among other things. But... as time passed, your feelings began to change into something much stronger. Lust was becoming .. love? You felt so silly thinking it ... so how the hell were you supposed to say it?

Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to read Jax, so you couldn't even tell if he felt the same way. There was a fifty percent chance he'd deny you. And that was all too high. You'd need help on this endeavor, and you knew just the doll to ask.

A short while later, you arrived at Ragathas door. Lucky enough to have Kinger become a distract for Jax to sneak away. Once she swung the door open, the words erupted from your mouth. "Woah, woah y/n slow down ! Wanna come in?" You caught your breath and nodded, a little embarrassed.

"So, Jax, huh? He's... not my first choice for you, but I will be 100% supportive!" She said with a smile. "Thank you, Rags.. I just know how to confess to him. What if he..laughs you know?"

"Hm.. yeah, I see. He can be a jerk sometimes! heh.. But, I think if you're serious.. he'll listen. Like really listen. I have an idea! Practice on me."

"W.. What? On you? That'd be, too.." Your voice trailed off.

"Come on, y/n it's just me!" She nudged you and caused a smile to lift at the corner of your lips.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes before straightening up your back and looking the doll in the eyes as if to get into character.

"I've.. wanted to talk to you about this for a while now.." You started your 'confession.'

Unbeknownst to you, Jax finally managed to shake off Kinger and was searching for you. He checked your room first , then a few others before ending up in front of Ragatha's. "I finally get rid of that nutcase and you ditch me. Givin' me a taste of my own medicine, huh?" He spoke outloud just before he rose his fist to knock on Ragatha's door.

Before his knuckles could make contacr with the wood, he heard your voice and leaned in. That permanent smile was growing on his lips. He was evesdropping, of course, because why wouldn't he?

Unfortunately, this was the first time he regretted doing so, he heard you.. confessing!? He quickly pressed his head a bit harder to the wood. Making out the words carefully.

'I love you. I.. wanted to tell you for the longest time but I didn't think you saw me in that way.'

Love? Her? Since when?

Jax felt clenched his fist , absolutely seething. Sure, you were only friends with benefits, but maybe you should have disclosed our feelings for the rag doll before allowing him to rearrange your guts.

He stomped off to your room like that of an upset child and waited , sitting your bed and staring at the door.

Meanwhile, you were giving Ragatha a goodbye hug, squeezing the doll. "Thank you, that helped a lot. I'll .. let you know how it goes." You parted ways and headed to your room, knowing Jax would either be there or eventually show up sometime tonight. You were in a chipper mood, full of confidence as you swung the door open to your dimly lit room.

Immediately, you felt the wave of anger hit you. It was thick in the air. And Jax was sitting there, his eyes on the ground and his smile not there. "Jax..?" Your voice was small, you couldn't muster up anything more than that.

"So, you and Ragatha, huh?" He almost spat. "Y'know I knew you were a slut but, .. you really had me fooled."

"What? Jax? I can explain— it's not what you think." You said and nervously scoffed towards the end of your sentence.

He took this as you laughing at him, "C'mere, doll." His voice was flat, not playful and teasing like it usually was. Your body didn't want to move.

"Now."

You shuffled over, a familiar heat growing in between your legs. You knew this was a misunderstanding and knew you could clear it up if he let you speak.. but he was also really fucking hot right now.

"Jax just listen to me please." You begged.

"On your knees toots, ya know. I was here first, befofe her. If she's gonna have you, its not gonna be til im done with you first." He said, pointed at the ground, and you instinctively fell to your knees. "That alright with you doll?' He was still checking in, making sure he wasn't really doing something you didn't want but you nodded eagerly.

"Like I thought, a slut." He scoffed and gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he pulled his semi hard cock from his pants. "Be a good girl and suck me off, I want you to go back to Ragatha with the taste of me on your lips." His words morphed into a whisper towards the end, and a breathy chuckle escaped his lips. Your stomach was in knots.

He yanked you forward again, and you whimpered, lips brushing against his tip. Your mouth opened and accepted him inside with ease. He moaned, "Mn.. yeaah.. ya think you have the luxury of takin your time? Nah." He slammed your head forward and you scrambled in between his legs , gagging on his cock as he used your throat like a flesh light.

"J.. Just like that, take it .. gonna shake that little brain up til you forget about her.." He groaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Trying hard to keep up with his thrusts, but they were too sporadic. To harsh, yet your cunt throbbed the entire time.

He was quick to spurt ropes of cum into your mouth, pulling back— his cock slipping out of your mouth with a lewd pop. "Nh.. hhaa.. " You tried to catch your breath. "Now, what were you tryna say earlier doll?" He leaned back on his elbows, also trying to catch his breath.

"I was .. practicing my confession to.. ragatha.. it was just practice..f-for you.. Jax.."

His ears seemed to get straighter, pointing directly up upon hearing that. He immediately slid off the bed and kneeled next to you. Gathering your face in his hands and wiping your damn hair from your face, "Me? You.. were plannin' on confessing to me..? If this is some kinda joke y/n—"

You cut him off and planted your lips onto his cheek. Peppering his face in kisses. "It's.. not a joke. I love you, Jax." You were flushed, your body still so turned on yet filled with emotion as well.

"So , you wanted me to face[censor!!] you huh? Ya could've told me to stop ya airhead." He teased and stared at you with a softer grin.

"I didn't want you to, you getting all jealous was actually pretty hot."

"Was it now? C'mon toots, on the bed.. I got some makin' up to do." He said and helped you onto the soft mattress, "Oh and.. I love you too. Took ya long enough."

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[spideyhexx]

fem!reader saccharine

Billy knows your whole thing is being one big tease to him, to other too, but mostly him, and he is close to losing it.

He already had a rough morning after getting barely any sleep. Why, he wasn't sure, but the heaviness in his head was weighing down on his day from the very start. He forgot to pay the innkeeper, borrowing money from Jesse to pay off his room, but now he owed Jesse money. Billy planned on going to the saloon later that day to play poker, but he was dreading it. He knew his tiredness would make it harder for him to play and play well at that. Most of the gang left him alone, seeing the permanent furrow in his brow and the way his shirt wasn't even buttoned right, it was clear it was an off day for him.

But then there was you. You knew he was having a bad day, but you couldn't help it. You always teased him and he always bit back. Not as hard as you would hope, but the game was always a thing. You follow him around that day, having nothing of importance to do for yourself.

He thought it akin to a puppy following you around and every time he turned and saw your smiling face, he'd roll his eyes, his jaw clenching so tight, you were sure he was gonna break his teeth any minute.

"Bonney, do you think I'd look better with your hat?" You run up to catch up to him as he walks.

"No," he replies, his eyes looking anywhere but you.

"Really? Cause I was thinkin'-"

"Can you stop followin' me?" Billy interrupts, his gaze still ahead, so he misses your eye-roll.

"Listen, I have nothin' else to do so I-"

"Well, 'm goin' to take a piss, so I don't think you should follow me," he says, his tone sharp and he looks at you, giving you the quickest, fakest smile he could have. It only brightened your grin.

"Oh, c'mon, I'll just look the other way, I've been around you guys far too long to get weird about that," you tell him, and he seems to know it's the truth, he can’t fight it. He shakes his head. "Leave," and he points back to where his and your horses were.

You're not that easy. Billy knows it too, but he prays to God that you'll see how annoyed he is in this moment and how he wants his time alone. You poke his arm, then jab your elbow at him, "I think I'll stay with you, Bonney."

"I need-"

"I can keep quiet if that's what you really want, but I think it's best if I stick around, what if-"

"Will you just shut up?!" His voice raises, stilling his walking to turn fully towards you. Your eyes are widened a little, but you don't answer his question.

"There's no way in hell you can keep quiet, 'cause all you do is talk. You bother me so much like...," he trails off, then lets out a harsh chuckle, swallowing his words before he spits them out at you, "you're...you're like a pest. I don't get it one bit how anyone likes you. ‘M…’m done with it, I can’t I…you really are a fuckin’ pest.”

His words sink into you. It stings, though you know he's got merit to his words. That you shouldn't have bothered him as much as you were today, that you should have just left when he told you to, but you thought it as much a game as playing poker would be. But Billy is fuming. You can see the anger in his eyes, the way his words rolled harsh on his tongue, the only time you've heard him speak like that was to people the gang was rivaling.

It's hard to stop the tears from welling in your eyes. Your chest burns and you feel the familiar ache in your heart. You try to stop it, but you've never been very good at that. "Pest...okay. 'M sorry, Billy," you say, your voice breaking on his name as your tears start to stream, falling to your cheeks as you sniffle. Once it’s starts, you know you really can’t stop it. You turn your heel and walk away from him. Part of you didn't want him to see that side of you, but it was also too late. Billy's heart drops at the sight. His words echo in his own head, realizing how bad they sound. "Shit, wait," he says, but you keep walking.

Billy's shoulder slump. He's never seen you cry, let alone speak so quietly. He was beginning to think nothing ever upset you until now. He knows he lashed out, but he hopes you at the very least understand why he did. However, to him, he knows he shouldn't have said that. You're a piece of glue for the gang, even he could admit that. Your pure nature was friendly, he knows why people like you so much, but he still said what he said. He thinks about going after you, but he can't. His feet are stuck to the ground as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Shit," he mumbles to himself, rubbing his hand over his face, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

let's chat about billy, here :)

[cy-cyborg]

Disability Tropes: The Miracle Cure

The miracle cure is a trope with a pretty negative reputation in disability circles, especially online. It describes a scenario in which, a disabled character, through either magic, advanced technology, divine intervention or some combination of the three, has their disability cured throughout the course of the story. Sometimes this is literally, as in the disability is completely and entirely cured with no strings attached. Other times, it looks like giving an amputee character a prosthetic so advanced that it's basically the same as "the real thing" and that they never take off or have any issue with, or giving the character with a spinal injury an implant that bypasses the physical spine's break, or connects to an exoskeleton that allows them to walk again. Sometimes, it can even look like giving a character some kind of magic item or power that negates the effects of the disability, like what I talked about in my post about "the super-crip" trope. Either way though, the effect is the same: The disability is functionally cured and is no longer an "issue" the author or character has to worry about.

But why would this be a bad thing? In a world with magic or super-advanced tech, if you can cure a character's disability, why wouldn't you?

[ID: a screenshot of Roy mustang from Full metal alchemist Brotherhood, a white man with short black hair in a hospital gown. In the corner of the screen is the hand of another person holding a small red gemstone. /End ID]

Well there's a few reasons. First, lets talk about the purely writing related ones. If you've been around the writing or even media critique communities for a bit, you've likely heard people voicing their frustrations with tropes like "The fake-out death" where a character is either implied to have died, but comes back later, or is explicitly shown to be dead and then resurrected. Often when this happens in media, it leaves the audience feeling cheated and like a character's actions and choices don't really matter if even the worst mistakes and consequences can be undone. In the case of the latter situation, where they die and are brought back, it can make the stakes of the whole story feel a lot lower, since even something like death is shown to be reversible, so the audience doesn't really have to worry about anything bad happening to their favourite character, and once you've used this trope one time, people will constantly wonder why you wouldn't use it every time it comes up.

The same is true for "fixing" a character's disability. It sets a precedent that even things as big and life-changing as disability aren't permanent in this setting. We don't have to worry about anything major happening to the characters, there's no risks associated with their actions if it can all be undone, and it will lower the stakes of the story for your audience. Personally, I also feel like it's often used as a cop-out. Like writers wanted to include a major injury the leads to something big like disability for shock value, but weren't sure how to actually deal with it afterwards, so they just made it go away. Even in cases where the character start the story with a disability and are cured, this can still cause issues with your story's stakes, because again, once we've seen you do it once, we know its possible, so we won't feel the need to worry about anything being permanent.

Ok, so that's the purely writing related reasons, but what if that situation doesn't apply to the story you're writing? What if they're "fixed" right at the end, or the way they're cured is really rare, so it can't be used multiple times?

I'm glad you asked, because no, this is far from the only reason to avoid the trope! In my opinion, the more important reason to avoid it is because of how the a lot of the disabled community feels about the miracle cure trope, and the ideas about disability it can perpetuate if you're not very, very careful.

You might have noticed that throughout this post, I've put words like "cured" and "fixed" in quotes, and that's because not every disabled person wants a cure or feels like their ideal to strive for is able-bodied and neurotypical. For many of us, we have come to see our disabilities as part of us, as part of our identities and our sense of self, the same way I, as a queer person might see my queerness as a part of my identity. This is an especially common view among people who were born with their disability or who had them from a young age, since this is all they've ever really known, or who's disability impacts the way they think, perceive and process the world around them, how they communicate with people or in communities who have a long history of forced conformity and erasure such as the autism and deaf communities. Many disabilities have such massive impacts on our lives that we literally wouldn't be who we are today if they were taken away. So often though, when non-disabled people write disabled characters, they assume we'd all take a "cure" in a heart-beat. They assumed we all desire to be just like them again, and this simply isn't the case. Some people absolutely would, and there's nothing wrong with that, but it's not as universal as media representation makes it out to be.

Another reason it's so heavily disliked is because this trope is often used in conjunction with other ableist and harmful tropes or it's used in ways that perpetuate misinformation about living with a disability and it can have ableist implications, even if that's not what the author necessarily intended.

If the miracle cure is used right at the end of the story for example, as a way to give characters a happy ending it can imply that the only way for a disabled character to be happy in the long run, is for them to be "fixed", especially if they were miserable all the way up until that point. If it's used earlier in the story as a way to get said character back into the action, it can also be read as the author thinking that disabled people can't be of use to the plot, and so the only way to keep them around is to "fix" them.

Of course, there's also the fact that some authors and writers will also play up how bad being disabled is in order to show why a cure is justified, playing into the "sad disabled person" trope in the process, which is pretty much what it says on the tin. Don't get me wrong, this isn't to say that being disabled is all easy-breezy, there are never any hard days and you should never show your character struggling, not at all, the "sad disabled person" trope has it's place (even if I personally am not a fan on it), but when both the "sad disabled person" trope and the miracle cure trope are used together, it's not a great look.

This is especially bad when the very thing that cures the disability, or perhaps the quest the heroes need to go on to get it, is shown to be harmful to others or the disabled person themselves. Portraying living with a disability as something so bad that it justifies hurting others, putting others at risk, loosing yourself or killing yourself in order to achieve this cure perpetuates the already harmful idea that disability is a fate worse than death, and anything is justified to avoid it.

I've also noticed the reasons the authors and writers give for wanting to cure their characters are very frequently based on stereotypes, a lack of research in to the actual limits of a person's disability and a lack of understanding. One story I recall reading years ago made sure to tell you how miserable it's main character, a former cyclist, was because he'd been in a car accident where he'd lost his arm, and now couldn't ride bikes anymore, seemingly unaware of the fact arm amputees can, in fact, ride bikes. There are several whole sports centred around it, and even entire companies dedicated to making prosthetic hands specifically for riding bikes. but no, the only way for this to resolve and for him to be happy was to give him his arm back as a magical Christmas miracle! It would be one thing if the story had acknowledged that he'd tried cycling again but just had difficulties with it, or something was stopping him from being able to do it like not being able to wear the required prosthetic or something, but it really did seem as though the author was entirely unaware it was even possible, which is an issue when it's the whole point of your story existing. This happens a lot more often than you'd think, and it's very clear when an author hasn't even bothered to google search if their character would be able to do something before deciding the only solution is to take the disability away.

There's also the frustration that comes from being part of an underrepresented minority, finally seeing a character like you on screen or in a book, only for that representation to be taken away. Disabled people make up roughly 16% of the population (though many estimate these numbers are actually much higher), but only about 2.8% of American TV shows and 4.1% of Australian TV shows feature explicitly disabled characters. In 2019, around 2.3% of films featured disabled characters in a speaking roll, and while it's slowly getting better as time goes on, progress on that front is very slow, which is why its so frustrating when we do see characters like ourselves and so much of their stories focus on wishing to be, trying to become or actually being "cured".

An finally, there's the fact this is just a really common trope. Even if we ignore the issues it can cause with your story's tone and stakes, the harm it can do to the community when not handled with care, the negative perceptions it can perpetuate and everything else. It's just a plain-old overdone trope. It shows up so often that I, and a lot of disabled people, are just getting tired of seeing it. Despite everything I've said, there are valid reasons for people to not want to be disabled, and just like how I made sure to emphasise that not everyone wants a cure, it's important to recognise that not everyone would refuse it either. So long as it's not done in a way that implies it's universal, in theory, depicting someone who would want and accept a cure is totally fine. The issue is though that this trope is so common and so overdone that it's starting to feel like it's all we ever see, especially in genres like sci-fi and fantasy (and also Christmas movies for some reason).

[ID: A Gif of a white man in a top hat nodding his head with the caption "Merry Christmas" down the bottom. /end ID]

Personally, because it's so common, I find even the few examples of the trope used well frustrating, and I honestly feel that it's at the point where it should be avoided entirely where possible.

Ok but Cy, you mentioned there are ways to use this trope well, what are they?

So, like I said, I'm of the opinion that this trope is better off not being in your work at all, but if, for whatever reason, you can't avoid it, or it's use is really that important to the story you want to tell, there are less harmful ways to implement it.

Don't have your only disabled character take the cure

If you really must cure your disabled character's disability, don't make them the only disabled person in the story. Show us another character who, when offered the same cure, chooses not to take it. This at least helps push back a little against the assumption of "of course everyone would want this" that these kinds of stories often imply and doesn't contribute (as much) to disability erasure in the media.

Don't make it a total cure

In real life, there are cures for some disabilities, but they rarely leave no trace. For example, an amputee's limb can sometimes be reattached if it was severed and they received medical treatment fast enough, but it usually results in at least a little nerve damage and difficulties with muscle strength, blood flow or co-ordination in that limb. Often times, these "cures" will fix one issue, but create another. You might not be an amputee anymore, but you're still disabled, just in a different way. You can reflect this in your fictional cures to avoid it feeling like you just wanted to avoid doing the work to write good disabled representation.

Do something interesting with it

I got a comment on my old tumblr or possibly Tik Tok account ages ago talking about their planned use for the miracle cure trope, where their character accepts the cure at the cost of the things that made her life enjoyable post-disability. Prior to accepting the cure, she had found other ways to be independent to some extent and her community and friends helped her bridge the gaps, but they were all taken from her when she was "cured" forcing her into isolation. Kind of like a "be careful what you wish for" sort of thing. The story was meant to be a critique on how society ignores alternative ways of getting the same result and how conforming to other people's ideas of "normal" isn't always what you need to bring you happiness. This was a genuinely interesting way to use the trope I think, and it's a perfect example of taking this trope and twisting it to make an interesting point. If you must use a trope like this, at least use it to say something other than "disability makes me sad so I don't want to think about it too much". Alternatively, on a less serious note, I'm also not entirely opposed to the miracle cure being used for comedy if it fits the tone. The Orville has some issues with it's use of the Miracle Cure trope, but I'd be lying if I said Isaac amputating Gordan's leg as a prank, knowing it could be reversed in a few hours did get a chuckle out of me.

If your villain's motivation is finding a cure for themselves, don't use it as justification for hurting people

Disabled villains need a post all their own honestly, but when a villain's motivation for doing all the terrible things they do is so they don't have to be disabled anymore, it's especially frustrating. Doubly so if the writer's are implying that they're justified in their actions, or at least that their actions are understandable because "who would want to live like that?" Honestly, as a general rule of thumb, avoid making your villains disabled if you aren't disabled yourself (especially if they're your only disabled character), but if they are disabled, don't use the disability as a justification for them hurting people while finding a cure.

So are there any examples currently out there to look at where the trope is used, if not well, at least tolerably?

Yeah, I'd say so, but they're few and far between. Two examples come to mind for me though.

The Dragon Prince:

[ID: A Gif of Ava the Wolf from the Dragon Prince, a light brown, fluffy wolf who is missing her front right leg. /End ID]

The Dragon Prince on Netflix uses the miracle cure twice, but I still really enjoyed the show (at least I did, up until my Netflix subscription ran out, so I've only seen up to season 4). The first time the trope is used in the series, it's actually a fake-out. Two of the main characters, while looking for someone to help them heal the dragon egg they're carrying, encounter a young girl named Ellis and her pet wolf Ava. The two explain their egg is not looking good and they need to find someone to help it, but no one they've found had the knowledge or ability to do anything to help. Ellis says she knows a healer who can help them, and tells them that this healer even restored Ava's amputated leg when she was a pup. When we actually reach this "miracle healer" however, she is revealed to be simply an illusionist. She explains that Ava is still missing her leg, she simply made it look as though she had restored it because Ellis's parents were planning to throw the puppy out, believing it would not survive with its disability and would only be a drain on supplies. This was not actually true and Ava adapted to her amputation very well, she simply needed more time, and hiding her disability and making her appear abled gave her the time she needed to fully recover and adjust. When they return to the healer with the main characters, she removes the illusion and explains why she did it, emphasising that the real problem was never with Ava, but with how people made assumptions about her.

While I do feel it was drawn out a bit too long, I do appreciate the use of the trope as the set up to an overall positive twist. Disability does come with down-sides, it's part of the deal and it would have been nice to see a bit more of that, but for disabilities like amputation in particular, the worst of our problems often come from a lack of adequate support and people's pre-conceived ideas about us, and it was nice to see this reflected, even if it is a little overly simplified.

The second time this trope comes up in the series is when one of the antagonists, Soren, is injured during a fight with a dragon, becoming paralysed from the neck down. His sister, Claudia is absolutely beside herself, believing it was her fault this even happened in the first place, but Soren actually takes his new disability very, very well, explaining that he understands there are things he can't do now, but that there's a lot of things he can still try, that his previous job as a soldier just didn't allow time for. It's possible this reaction was him being in denial but it came across to me as genuine acceptance. He is adamant that he doesn't want a cure right from the beginning because he knows that a cure would come at a cost that he doesn't want his sister to pay, and that he is content and happy with this new direction his life will be going in. Claudia, however, is not content. It had been shown that she was already using dark magic, but this event is what starts her down the path of using it in earnest, disregarding the harm it will cause to those around her. She ignores Soren's wishes, kills several animals in order to fuel the healing spell that will "fix" him, and Soren is pretty clearly shown to be horrified by her actions. What I like about this use of the miracle cure trope is that it touches on something I've seen happen a lot to disabled people in real-life, but that rarely shows up in media - the fact that just because we accept ourselves, our disabilities and our new limits, doesn't mean our friends and family will, unfortunately. In my own life, my mum and dad were always accepting of my disability when I was younger, but as I got older and my support needs changed, my body took longer to heal and I stopped being able to do a lot of things I could when I was little, they had a very hard time coming to terms with it and accepting it. I'm not alone in this either, a lot of disabled people end up cutting contact with friends and family members who refuse to accept the reality of our situations and insist "if we just try harder maybe we won't be so disabled" or "Maybe you will get better if you just do [xyz]". Unfortunately however, some disable people's wishes are ignored completely, like Soren's were. You see this a lot in autistic children who's parents are so desperate to find a cure that they hurt their kids through toxic and dangerous "treatments" or by putting them through abusive therapies that do more harm than good. Claudia has good intentions, but her complete disregard for Soren's decision still harm them both in the long run, leading to the deterioration of their relationship and causing her to spiral down a very dark path.

Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

[ID: A Gif of Ed from full metal alchemist, a white boy with blond hair, staring angrily at a jar of milk on the table. His brother Al, a sentiant suit of armour, is in the background looking directly at the camera. The caption, spoken by Ed, says "So we meet again you little bastard" /end ID.]

The show does begin with Ed and Al looking for a way to cure their disabilities (which they gave themselves when trying to resurrect their mother as children went horribly wrong). However, when the boys discover that the object needed to do that - a philosopher's stone, can only by made through absolutely abhorrent and despicable means, and using one, likewise, comes at the cost of potentially hundreds or thousands of people's souls, they immediately stop, and shift their focus on finding the stones that had already been made so it can't fall into the wrong hands, and preventing the creation of new ones. The core theme of the show is that everything has a cost, and sometimes the cost is simply too great.

However, right at the end of the show, several characters are healed in a variety of ways. Ed gives up his ability to do alchemy to get his brother's body back, as well as his arm so he can save his friends in the final battle, but neither of the boys come away from this completely "healed". Al's body has not been used since he was a child, and so it is shown he has experienced severe muscular atrophy that will take a long time and a lot of work to recover from, acknowledging that he has a pretty tough road ahead of him. When we see him in the epilogue, he is still on crutches despite this being several months after getting his body back. Likewise Ed is not fully healed, and is still missing one of his legs even if he got his arm back.

The more... interesting use of the trope, however, is in the form of Colonel Mustang who was blinded in the final season. Mustang is shown to take to his blindness pretty well given the circumstances, finding a variety of ways to continue doing his job and reaching his goals. When other characters offer to let him use the philosopher's stone to heal himself however, he takes it, acknowledging that this is a horrible thing to do and that Ed and Al would be extremely disappointed in him if they ever found out. He uses it both to cure his own disability, and to cure another character who was injured earlier in the show. While I'll admit, I did not like this ending, I can at least appreciate that the show made sure to emphasis that a) Mustang was doing fine without the cure, and b) that this was not morally justified. The show spent a very long time drilling into the viewer how morally reprehensible using the stone was, and it didn't try to make an exception for Mustang - you weren't supposed to like that he did that.

When I talk about these tropes, I do try to give them a fair chance and discuss the ways it can potentially work, but I really do want to reiterate that this particular trope really is best avoided. There are ways to make it work, but they will still leave a bad taste in many of your viewer's or reader's mouths and you have to be exceptionally careful with your wording and framing, not just in the scenes where this trope is used, but in the lead up. If you really must use it, I highly recommend getting a few disability sensitivity readers and/or consultants (yes, even if you are disabled yourself) to help you avoid some of the often overlooked pitfalls.

[zoeykallus]

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 3/7 - Crosshair

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Crosshair

You don't really know how to talk to him. As soon as his intense eyes look at you, your voice crawls and a horde of butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach.

In the beginning it was okay, but at some point, Crosshair just had to look at you to make your voice fail.

He doesn't know that he has this effect on you, he doesn't know that his voice sends little shivers down your spine, making everything inside you go crazy, pulse, heartbeat, temperature, hormones, thoughts… everything.

Wrecker likes to play practical jokes on the Sniper. Out of an impulse to have more contact with Crosshair, you join in these pranks at some point. You sometimes feel a little immature about it, but this simple contact with Crosshair is worth it.

He usually reacts grumpily, but he's never really that angry, and your pranks are usually quite harmless. The only time he was really a bit sour was when Wrecker and you stuck all the toothpicks Crosshair had in stock to his helmet. Of course, you insisted on water-soluble glue when Wrecker told you the idea, a prank shouldn't cause permanent damage in any way.

One evening, you're all sitting together, having a good time, eating well, telling jokes, unpacking card games. Music is playing on the radio in the background, and occasionally one or two people hum along to one of the songs. In general, everyone is in a good mood, including the sniper. The evening is going great, and you even talk to Crosshair a little, you joke with each other, and you're beaming the whole time, totally happy about his attention.

He gently nudges you with his elbow as you play cards and says with a smirk, “You're holding your cards too low, hold them a little higher, almost everyone can see what's in your hand”

“Oh”, you say in surprise and comply with his suggestion, “Thanks”

Today is the day, you think, today you finally tell him how you feel. It doesn't matter that you lose almost every game. The boys are too good, and you can hardly concentrate on the game. You pay much more attention to every sound and every movement of your crush, Crosshair, who is sitting quite close to you. Sometimes, when your eyes meet during the game, he smirks mischievously at you, and you feel yourself melting inside.

You are still waiting for a good opportunity. During a break in the game, when Crosshair wants to get drinks, you offer to help him and accompany him. On the way to get the drinks, your heart races as you gently but firmly grab his arm.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Crosshair stops and turns to you. He looks at you intently, and you feel yourself growing nervous under his serious gaze.

“Hmm, sure. What's this about?”

You take a deep breath, causing Crosshair to furrow his brows.

“Honestly, I don't even know how to start,” you say with a nervous laugh.

He remains silent, patiently, but he crosses his arms in front of his chest, which makes you even more nervous. His gaze is scrutinizing, almost critical. Your voice threatens to crawl out once again, and you try with all your might to stop it.

You say quite directly, “I have a crush on you”

For a very brief moment, Crosshair's posture wavers, his eyebrows shoot up, but in the same second, he pulls them back together, sternly.

“Was that your idea, or did Wrecker put you up to it?” he growls softly.

You look at him, perplexed. He thinks you're playing a trick on him again. At first, you don't know how to react, your thoughts are in a panic, and you can't organize them quickly enough. In the long pause that has arisen, he suddenly says, “Seriously? Did you think I would fall for this? You and me? As if that was even remotely realistic”

A helpless, “Uh,” escapes your lips.

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Come up with something better”

He wants to turn away and keep walking, but you say much braver than you feel, loud and clear, “I wasn't kidding”

Crosshair sighs, stops and turns back to you, a few steps away from you.

“Really? You insist on going through with this gag? Come on, let it go, surely you can think of something better”

You clench your hands into fists in frustration. But your gaze lowers dejectedly as you ask, “Why would you and I be an unrealistic thing?”

Crosshair listens up.

He asks lurking, “Does it matter?”

You answer quietly, “It does to me”

You hear his footsteps, finally see his boots and hear him say, “Look up, at me”

As you comply with his request, his eyes bore into yours.

“You really weren't joking, were you?” he asks seriously.

You swallow, but finally nod.

“I wouldn't joke about that”

His gaze is still scrutinizing as he asks, “Really?”

“Never”

Crosshair suddenly smirks, leaning towards you. Your heart doesn't quite know whether to jump out of your chest or stop, as his face comes closer. You hold your breath, your eyes close. First you feel his hand on the back of your neck, his arm wrapping around your middle, then you feel his lips on yours, warm, softer than expected, lingering gently for a long moment. Fireworks explode in your chest, everything tingles, hums, dances. Your entire body seems to be celebrating a feast of sensations and perceptions. You smell him, his aftershave, feel the warmth of his body, so close...

Then suddenly everything is as if wrapped in absorbent cotton, dull, numb. When you open your eyes, it feels a little like you've just woken up from a dream. Surprised, you realize that you are no longer standing, but hanging in Crosshair's arms, who is kneeling on the floor. “How did that happen?” you ask, perplexed, looking up into his worried face. “You don't know?” You think for a moment before answering, “We talked, then you kissed me”

Crosshair nods and says, “And you just passed out during the kiss”

“I was unconscious?”

Crosshair sighs, his features relaxing a little as he replies, “hmm, looked like it”

“How long?”

“Just a few seconds, maybe half a minute”

You laugh softly, shyly and confess to him, “I was so nervous, I was holding my breath and my pulse was so fast…. I think that must have been it”

You realize that you are still lying in his arms, but you don't really want to get up. You could get used to being held by him like this.

Crosshair smirks, “I make you that nervous?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Well, yes.”

His smirk widens.

“I kind of like that, Kitten”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

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@misogirl828 @tech-deck

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@ivyyyyy

[nicohischierz]

a mat(t) for every situation: hughes sister

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hisch you want to join the taglist let me know!!

when she got drafted by the islanders in the 2020 nhl draft, no one was expecting it.

sure she was on the zoom with all the top prospects but she thought it was for show and really she’d only been present to watch her friend brendan get drafted.

but alas, her name was called before his. brendan jumped onto her immediately bringing her into a hug before her mother brought her into her arms .

adelaide’s brothers stood shocked as she placed an islanders hat on her head. quinn and luke congratulated her after jer interviews and jack just lifted his head in acknowledgment.

that was four years ago.

now she was in the big leagues, leaving the university of michigan in her sophomore year and finding a permanent spot on the islanders roster.

“barzy, should i do one braid or two for the game?” she asked, barging into her teammates room.

during her rookie season, mat had been tasked with looking after her. it didn’t take long before the two of them started acting like siblings, going as far as to call each other such in interviews.

“i don’t know addy. tito should she do one braid or two?” mat asked his former teammate over the phone.

“two!” tito replied.

“anthony!” adelaide squealed jumping into bed with mat. the man on the phone laughed as mat chastised the younger girl, he truly did miss the two.

“hi mon chou, how are you?” he asked.

“i’m great! super excited for the game. except for the fact that my brothers will be there and jack hasn't been in the stands to see me play like ever," she ranted.

tito and mat both gave the girl a sad look. but adelaide brushed them off, giving anthony a smile and asking "how's the checklist going?"

when the news of anthony's trade dropped, adelaide provided the boy with her personal nashville checklist. she had covered a pretty good chunk of it and wanted her friend to do the same.

"you seem distracted," tito pointed out.

adelaide shrugged, she looked over to mat hoping he didn't spill her secret. but then she was reminded that tito and mat knew her better than her brothers.

well, those two are her brothers.

"mon chou whatever it is, we're here for you," tito's toned softened and mat pulled the younger girl into her arms.

"um, there's this guy i met ..." adelaide was cut off by tito yelling

"barzy you let her near a guy! i thought we agreed no boys till she's 45!" he joked causing the two in the hotel room to scoff. tito smiled, happy to change the girls mood slightly.

"as i was saying, i met this guy and he was really tall tito and he was so sweet. he was canadian for sure, but he didn't know who I was which is awesome and he said he;s going to be in new york for a bit," she explained.

in the three years of knowing adelaide hughes, tito and mat had never seen her talk about a boy this way. she always presented a cold front and if someone tried flirting with her at a bar she'd shut them down.

"that's not all is it?" tito pressed.

"like i said earlier, my brothers are going to be there. tito, whenever I have something important jack is always there to steal the spotlight," you murmured the last part.

mat remembers the comments under your draft post about jack not wanting to be there at all, or how he hadn't even congratulated his sister for her achievement.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

when it was time for the outdoor game, adelaide had focused her attention on the game and not on the two boys in the stands. the only thing that really threw her off was the announcement that a rookie was debuting at the game.

"oh you're kidding me," she whispered when she saw the guy making his debut.

mat looked over at adelaide and saw her staring at the new rangers players. the new player doing the same upon seeing adelaide.

the older boy kept the interaction in his head as a reminder to ask adelaide later.

the game was a bit up and down as adelaide and matt got distracted by each other. however, the former did a good job of not letting it affect her game.

the islanders lost in overtime and adelaide's frustrations were evident on her face. she skipped out on media and headed to her parents, calling the boy that plagues her mind.

"meet me at the same bar tomorrow night," she told him ending the call immediately.

ellen wrapped her arms around her daughter and praised her efforts during the game, calling the overtime goal sheer luck. luke teased his older sister about the devils win and jack was preoccupied with his phone.

adelaide didn't need jack's attention but she craved it. even when she was a child, all she wanted was to make her brother proud of her.

the awkwardness within the hughes family didn't last long as mat came around, wrapping his arm over adelaide. he greeted the parents and the two boys before stealing the girl away from her family.

he could see the hurt in her eyes when jack didn't acknowledge her. mat knew that inside her head, adelaide was listing all the bad things she could've possibly done to have her brother hate her.

"addy, the canadian guy from the bar. it's rempe isn't it," mat stated as soon as the two reached adelaide's apartment.

the hughes girl stilled. "barzy, i swear i didn't know. we never spoke about hockey and I was shocked when I saw him today," she rambled.

mat pulled her in for a hug as her eyes started to fill with tears, she was overwhelmed and mat knew she needed some comfort.

"you're the best brother a girl could ask for," adelaide whispered.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

the next day, matt and adelaide made their way to the bar in the morning. the latter had been pacing around the entrance with a cup of coffee in her hand.

"didn't see you as a day drinker hughes," matt quipped.

adelaide couldn't help the smile that made its way on her face. however, one look at the boy's cut reminded her of why she was here.

"you didn't tell me you were a hockey player,"

"you didn't tell me either princess,"

in all honesty, the two weren't sure where the conversation was going but matt called adelaide for a walk.

the two spoke freely about everything and anything. adelaide forgot why she was angry at the boy and matt enjoyed his time with the pretty girl.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

that exchange happened three months ago.

"is your family coming down for playoffs?" matt asked. the two of you were currently enjoying a lazy day in bed, matt was playing with your hair as you scrolled through tiktok.

you shook your head.

"well my mum and da may come down but they've got to see quinny too and he's stressed cause he's captain. then jack's got his shoulder surgery and luke's going to worlds. but I don't mind," you answered quickly.

matt's heart sunk.

in the three months he'd known you he learnt three things

one: mat barzal was more of a brother than your actual brothers

two: jack was an asshole

three: you would always blame yourself for anyone's flaws

"when you guys play at home and if I've got nothing going on I'll come watch you," he whispered, pulling you in for a kiss.

you smiled giddily at your boyfriend and snuggled into his chest. he truly was the perfect boyfriend.

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullen with a human partner who has very noticeable freckles all over his body and who is discouraged that after the transformation they will disappear.

The Cullens with a reader with Freckles

I made this a little more general to include headcanons of the Cullens with a reader who has freckles. I also made it gender neutral/not specified.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He loves your freckles

When you’re asleep, he has nothing better to do than count them

He loves when summer rolls around and he can watch as the sun pulls more out of your skin

If you’re ever insecure about them, he shuts that down instantly

He loves them so shut up

Now according to Stephenie Meyer, vampires lose all of the melanin in their skin when they transform

But that’s stupid so I’m gonna ignore that

When he turns you, you notice that your skin is stuck in the permanent state of winter, where your freckles are at their most faint

He tries to reassure you that they’re still visible

It takes him one entire night of kissing all of them for you to believe him :)

Alice:

She thinks they’re adorable

She wishes she had some

Makes a point to tell you that

Again, she loves the summertime because they become more obvious

One time, she drew a picture of you in art class and you were stunned at the amount of detail in which she captured your freckles

Like she got them in all the right spots, right amounts, everything

Before she turns you, you tell her that you're concerned about your freckles disappearing

She tries to convince you that they won't, but to be honest she doesn't know for sure

After she turns you, she notices that you’re pretty upset

She helps you recreate your freckles with makeup if she notices that it really bothers you

But other than that she tries her best to help you forget

She reassures you that she still thinks you are very adorable/attractive

Jasper:

He thinks they are so enchanting

He gets lost just staring at you very often

Whether that's because he's staring at your freckles or just you is up for debate-

Either way he loves them

He gets shocked around the summertime

"Did you do your makeup today?"

"No, why?"

"'Cause you've got more of those spots than normal"

When he (or Carlisle, let's be honest) turns you, he instantly notices the difference

They're not all gone, but a good chunk of them are

He's a little sad too

But he still loves you so

He does his best to cheer you up

He uses his gift to make you feel better

Rosalie:

When she was alive, freckles were considered ugly blemishes

But she never understood that

She always thought they were cute

So when she sees you and all of the freckles that you have, she is instantly in love

Another one who counts them while you're sleeping sorry

She's the only one who actually has an answer about whether or not your freckles will stay when you get turned

She still has her beauty mark, after all

So at the very least, your biggest, most noticeable ones will stay

And when she turns you, she is proven right

Obviously you're both bummed that not all of them stick around, but she reassures you that it's okay

Emmett:

It isn't the first thing that he notices about you

He sees your personality first

Jk jk jk

I mean it's just not the first thing he sees

However, when summer rolls around and suddenly all of your freckles have multiplied and they're all darker, he notices

"So... what are all of those?"

"All of what?"

"The spots on your face... and arms... and chest"

He thinks they suit you though

One day, Alice used some foundation to cover them all up to play a prank on him and he was so shocked

Almost didn't recognize you

After he turns you, he doesn't really notice the difference

You're gonna have to point it out to him

But he just tells you that he still thought you looked the same

Reassures you that you're probably the only one who's noticed that you're missing a few

Esme:

She thinks they are adorable

I can see her having had a cousin or a niece/nephew who had a whole bunch of freckles when she was alive

She always wanted some

So she adores yours

Loves to stare into your face while you sleep or whenever you aren't doing anything

When you approach her with your concern, she honestly doesn't know the answer

She never had any significant marks on her body, so she never noticed anything missing when she was turned

After she turns you, if you are upset because you're missing a good chunk of your freckles, she tries her best to reassure you that it's okay

"You had more than enough to spare anyway :)"

Carlisle:

It's not really something he noticed first either

He sees so many people everyday that at some point you stop looking really hard

But as he gets closer with you, he notices all of your spots

He thinks they are so unique

It also makes him reflect on past beauty standards

He does go on a whole rant though about the science of freckles

Melanin pockets in the skin and whatever

Unlike literally everyone else that you ask, he does actually have an answer

The most prominent of your freckles will stick around, similar to Rosalie's beauty mark, and the lighter ones that really only show up in the summer will disappear

Mostly because you're not gonna be tanning anymore lol

He comforts you with science

And of course he tells you over and over again that you are still jst as attractive as you've always been

Vampire! Bella:

She's not too shocked

From the very few very grainy pictures I could find of Renee on Google, she has some light freckles all over her face too

So it's not like they're some new exotic thing to her

But again, she feels like they suit you

Like she can't imagine you without them

When you ask her, she has no clue

Like genuinely none sorry

But she reassures you that it can't be that bad

When you do get turned and you lose some of your freckles, she tries her best to console you

"I'm sorry, really I didn't know if they would disappear or not"

She tells you that you are beautiful/handsome/attractive either way

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: So I don't think I'm broken anymore. 1 week of a actually doing something didn't ruin me. I come back on the weekends.

C/W ::: Draken x F.reader, Make-up sex?, unprotected sex, P->V

WC ::: Kinda long, 3,035. Happy with every word.

You were going over to Draken's place to collect the rest of your stuff today. It's ok though, because he's out doing some stupid Toman shit and won't be there. Seeing him right now would be your absolute downfall. It would permanently wreck you. You're so fucking horny all the time. Yeah, so, you have toys. But your toys will never measure up to his cock. They'll never measure up to his hands or his mouth on you. He could get you wet by just looking at you for too long.

"Ohp, snap out of it, y/n. Stop. Now." You had to remind yourself on the way over there that not only would you not be seeing him, but you wouldn't be fucking him, either. And all the thoughts that penetrated your brain consisted of him. Pounding into you at such an unforgiving pace you thought you were actually going to die - but it was ok. There was no better way to go than being fucked to death by him. Him of all people.

The 2nd in command of Toman. Mikey's №1… in many aspects. Sitting at the red light you started thinking about how Draken was your №1, how you were his №1.5. Mikey always came first when it came to business. You always came first when he was done with that shit.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice the light had turned green until the car behind you honked their horn. "Fuck!" You slammed on the gas and turned the wheel a little too hard, causing the car to jerk sideways and you almost lost control. "Perfect visual to my life right now. Goddamn it, Draken. Leave me alone." You were really starting to lose it.

After calming down and pulling over to catch your breath, you realized you were already at your destination. It wasn't like you needed to check the address or anything, you knew exactly where he lived. And so often, you were on auto-pilot. Whenever he called you, you floated out to the car and eased your way down into the driver's seat. Your pussy already sensitive. Reeling in the anticipation of what he was going to do to you. How he was going to make you feel.

"Fuck. Ok, y/n. Keep it together." You hopped out and made your way to the front door. No one was around, and the gate was unlocked. That's always a good sign. Draken must have forgotten to lock it before he left. He was expecting you to come by today, but you double - triple checked the date to make sure he wasn't going to be here. If he were, you know all to well that you'd end up fucking in his room before you left with the rest of your things.

As you unlocked the door with your spare key, you realized he probably left the gate open for you. "Thanks, Ken." you muttered to yourself as you walked into the living room. It was just as clean and organized as you remembered it. Nothing out of place. Everything had its spot. That's one of the things you loved about him.

You made your way to his bedroom, and as soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his scent. That fucking smell. It was so intoxicating. He smelled like a mixture of cologne and musk. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it was so sexy. So damn irresistible. You wanted to rip off your clothes and roll around on his bed just to soak up his aroma. You had half a mind to find his cologne and spray it all over you and your stuff so you could have it permeate your senses one more time and last until the smell completely faded away. But you managed to resist the temptation to go down that path.

"Ok, focus." You had to snap out of it again. "This is the last time you'll be in here. Just grab your shit and go." You gathered your clothes and some other miscellaneous items you had scattered around the room. Some makeup, a few books you borrowed from him, and some other trinkets that you didn't even realize you had left behind.

As you were stuffing everything into your bag, you found one of your old bras. You actually weren't even sure if it was yours. "Damn, Draken." You laughed to yourself as you shoved it into your purse. You didn't know how it ended up in his drawer, but you assumed it was from one of his one night stands. They must have left it behind and he either didn't bother to throw it out or he didn't know what to do with it. You decided to take it and toss it when you got home. "It's not like he's gonna miss it anyway."

Once you were finished, you took one last look around the room. The memories flooded back into your mind. The nights you spent tangled in his sheets, him fucking you so good you almost passed out. The way he whispered in your ear how much he loved you. How he was addicted to your pussy. You remembered how you would sit on his face and grind against him until you came. How he would eat you out like you were the last meal on earth.

"Stop! Stopstopstop it!" You smacked yourself across the face, trying to snap yourself out of it again. You couldn't think about him anymore. It was too much. He was too much. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door, locking it behind you. As you walked out to your car, you saw the garage door was open and you noticed his bike sitting there. It was so shiny and well taken care of. You remember riding on the back of it with him, feeling the wind whip through your hair as he zoomed down the streets. You felt so free with him. So alive.

"Not the point, asshole." You said to yourself, making your way over to the open door. "Hello?" You asked. It wasn't like Draken to leave his door open like this. It wasn't like him to not have his bike. There was no answer so you walked in. "Anyone home?"

And there he was. Sitting on his stool, lowered all the way down so he could work on whatever the hell he was working on. You never knew what he was doing. But you knew that he looked amazing doing it. "Hiiii," you said, slowly dragging out the 'i'. He didn't turn around. Didn't even flinch when you said that.

"You're supposed to be gone, Ken." You said, annoyed. Still, he didn't move. "Did you hear me? I said you're supposed to be gone!" You started to get pissed off. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to be out with Toman, not here. You didn't want to see him. "Hey!" You smacked him on the shoulder.

He jumped up and put his fists in front of him. "FUCK! Don't fucking sneak up on me, y/n! Jesus!" It was then you saw he had earbuds in. A smile spread across your face. You weren't sure if it was the satisfaction of knowing he didn't hear a single thing you said to him or that you scared the shit out of him. He was always so aware of his surroundings. Always knew what was happening. But not today. Today he was at your mercy.

"You fucking scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing here?!" He was fuming. You couldn't help but laugh. You hadn't seen him this pissed off since you two broke up. It was a sight to see.

"I came to pick up the rest of my stuff, you jackass. You said you wouldn't be here." You crossed your arms over your chest. He looked so good when he was mad. It made your pussy clench.

"Yeah, well, Mikey had some shit going on and needed me here." He started to calm down after the threat of the unknown smacking him on the shoulder passed. "I didn't think you were gonna stop by today." He leaned back on his stool, eyeing you up and down.

You knew what he was doing. He was checking you out. Trying to get a rise out of you. Make you squirm. "I … don't … look at me like that, Draken." You didn't know what else to say. You were so frustrated with him. "Don't fucking start."

He stood up and walked towards you. "Start what? I didn't start shit, y/n. You're the one who came in here and started hittin’ me and shit. You smacked me on the shoulder." He whispered in your ear. You could feel his breath on you. How hot it was. How sweet it smelled - and you could never get over that. How typically gross things that other people look or smell like, you had grown to love about him. It was infuriating. You were doing so good until today. (Good meaning you had only thought about him while touching yourself. You hadn't actually broke down to see him.)

"Fuck, Draken." You pushed him away from you, but he grabbed your hands and held them in front of you. He was so much stronger than you. It was pointless to try and fight him off. It was pointless, but it wouldn't be a lost effort. Something would come out of it. And you hoped it would go in your favor. "Don't do this to me."

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you. "Do what? Hold you? Is that what I'm doing, y/n?" He squeezed you tight. Your back against his chest. His head resting on your shoulder. You could feel his breath on your neck. His cock starting to harden against your ass. "You want me to let you go?"

You shook your head. Yes or no, you don’t have a single clue but you still did it. You didn't want him to let you go. You wanted him to hold you forever. You wanted him to fuck you until you couldn't see straight. You wanted him to make you feel like he used to. But you knew it was wrong. You were broken up. He didn't belong to you. "We can't, Draken. We have to stop."

He turned you around and looked you in the eye. "Stop what? This?" He rubbed his nose against yours. Teasing you. All you could think about was how it would feel to have his lips pressed to yours. It was like a fire had ignited inside you. A burning desire to have him. To feel him. To touch him. "Is this what you want me to stop, y/n? This?"

Before you could say anything, he had his mouth on yours. You tried to resist, but it was useless. Your body melted into him like it always did. The kiss was so slow. So deliberate. So well-planned. You're sure he knew you were coming over today. You both made plans to not have to see each other, that was what was agreed upon. And yet here you both are.

Right where you need to be but not where you want to be? Is that what's happening? Is that the right order? Or is it right where you want to be but not where you need to be. But all you can think about is his taste. His tongue. Tracing your bottom lip from side to side, top to bottom. The warmth of it familiar and all-encompassing. You never wanted to give it up.

He started to pull away, but you grabbed his face and kissed him back. Your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, carrying you into the house. He set you down on the counter and started to pull off your shirt. "I missed this, y/n. I missed you."

He slid his hands down your body and undid your jeans, pulling them off of you. You couldn't believe you were doing this. That you were letting him do this. But you couldn't stop yourself. "I ... hoh ... fuck, Kennn-nuh."

He pulled you down and bent you over the counter. Your tits pressed against the cold marble. He slid his fingers into your panties and felt how wet you were. "So fucking wet, baby. You want my cock don't you? You want me to fuck you, y/n?"

You moaned as he rubbed your clit. "Yes. Fuck. I want you, Ken." He pulled your panties down and spread your ass apart. "Please fuck me, Ken." He spit on your pussy, getting it nice and wet. You heard him unzip his pants and felt the tip of his cock rub against your entrance.

"I'm gonna fuck you, y/n. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you'll forget why we ever broke up. You ready, baby?" He pressed his cock inside you, inch by inch. "Oh, fuck." You whimpered as he filled you up. "So fucking tight. You missed my cock, didn't you, y/n?"

He started to pump into you from behind. You couldn't believe how good he felt. How he stretched you out. The way he hit all the right spots. "I missed your cock, Ken. I missed it so much." He started to fuck you faster, his hips slapping against your ass. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

He pulled you up and started to play with your tits, his cock still buried deep inside you. "Cum for me, y/n. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you, baby." He bit your earlobe and squeezed your tits. 

"Oh, fuck!" You started to cum, your pussy clenching around his cock. "Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna cum."

He pulled out and your head dropped at the sudden lack of him. He turned you around and lifted you up, guiding your legs around his waist, He carried you down the hallway to his room but halfway there you slipped down on his cock. "Oh, shit. Fuck!" He started to cum, his cock twitching inside you. "No! Fuck! Not - not here, not yet!"

"Oh, god!" You started to cum again, your juices dripping down his cock and onto his balls. He pressed you against the wall and fucked you harder, his cum spilling out of you and onto the floor. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He grunted, his cock still pulsing inside you. "Oh, fuck, y/n. I'm still … cumming."

He slowly slid out of you and set you down on the floor. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath. "That was ..." you couldn't even form a sentence. You couldn't believe what just happened. You were supposed to be getting the rest of your stuff. And then Draken wasn't supposed to be here. And now you're cumming on his cock. You didn't know what to think or do. "Ken ... I think ..."

He picked you up and carried you to his bed. "Shh, just shh, y/n." He pushed your legs apart and kicked his pants off the rest of the way, laying down on top of you. "Don't talk. Just feel me, y/n." He kissed you again, this time it was slow and passionate. He slid his cock back into you, pumping in and out of you at an even pace. "I love you."

You looked up at him. "Ken." You put your hands on his hips and stopped him from moving. "You can't. You can't say that to me while you're buried balls deep in my cunt. It doesn't count. It doesn't count right now."

"The fuck are you sayin'. It should count more now than any other time. Why the fuck you think I'm saying it righ' now, hah?" He started to move again, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. "I love you, y/n. I always will. You can't change that."

You pulled him closer to you and kissed him again. You didn't want to argue anymore. You just wanted him. "I love you, Ken. I love you, too." He started to fuck you harder, his cock throbbing inside you. You eyes began to roll back into your head. "Fffuhcckk," you moaned as he fucked you deeper. "Oh, fuck. Oh … fuck."

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck. He started to bite and suck on it, leaving a trail of hickeys from your collarbone to your ear. "Cum with me, y/n. Cum with me."

You both started to cum together, his cock spurting inside you. He kept fucking you, his cum dripping out of your pussy and onto the bed. "Ken, stop. Stop, Jesus, mercy, uncle. White flag waving!" You laughed and pushed him away and he rolled over onto his back. He was so fucking hot. His chest covered in sweat, his cock still hard and twitching. "Fuck, you're something else."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand, pulling you on top of him. "Hmm … So are you." He pulled you down and kissed you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. You felt so happy. You forgot how good it was with him. How perfect it was. How in sync you were with each other. "I love you."

You laid on top of him, listening to his heart beating. "I love you. I love you, too."

"So." He said quietly.

"Mm?" It was all you could muster at this point.

"Unpack your shit and bring the rest of it over. You live here. You live with me now." You could feel him smiling against the top of your head.

You looked up at him. "Ken. You can't be serious. I can't ...""Yes, you can. You will. Not letting you go again." He kissed the top of your head and picked up the key you sat down on his nightstand, slipping it back into your hand.

@arlerts-angel @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @viburnt @katshimizuu @darkstarlight82

[prettyboykatsuki]

“Their bodies fitting together like they always were intended to become one.” - with my pookie…u already know him…pretty please…

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader (use of word cunt), dry-humping (my dearly beloved), purple prose about astarions general neediness, smut is very light but there so 18+

✮ a/n ; sorry about this tumblr user nanamimizz. dont yell at me

The tightness in Astarion's chest takes permanent residency. Love is, decidedly, not for him.

He lets his eyes wash over your expression in the moonlight. Your own are blown wide, tinged with embarrassment about the state of affairs. Astarion would prefer to tease you about this. Make an off-handed comment about such a thing, the kind that leaves you pouting and huffing. You like when he does this, calls to your own bids for connection. Makes you feel desired. The kind of thing that gives him an edge over you.

But he can't, at least not tonight. His own expression would betray him instantly he knows, because it has been a long time since he's seen you. He's glad to have saved the world, glad to have been at risk of a parasitic infection. He met you during that.

But your likeness becoming the cities strength takes more of a toll on him than he cares to admits. Sometimes he won't see you for a tenday, and you can only return to each other briefly. In moments like those, it's difficult for Astarion to think clearly. He allows himself to wash away in your attention. To lay in it quietly, without taking.

He is strangely afraid of his desires. It's something that's easy to forget, somehow. Odd, since Astarion knows so clearly what he does not want. Wanting is a different affair. Desire is something so heavy he cannot shoulder it on his own, despite thinking he understood his so well.

Astarion cannot put any specifics to the intangible desires. He wants you somehow. In some way that makes his own body feel hot despite running so cold.

It's not lust. Just want. No more than want. A want to take.

A want so intense, he can't muster up the words to cause you fluster or strife. Even as a student of deception, the desire to be entangled with you is so great the words do not make it out.

Your hand reaches for his shoulder, squeezes thoroughly as you lay underneath him. The firelight warms you, casts a gold to your skin that makes his breath hitch.

"You're staring an awful lot," You say, a characteristic coquettish quality in your voice that Astarion only really likes on you "Is something the matter?"

"It's been a long while, my dear." He replies, raking his eyes over you. Eyes wide and... beautiful and perhaps easy "I wondered if you'd abandon me,"

"Please don't say such a terrible thing," You scoff, frowning "As if I could do something like that."

Right. As if you could.

"Is something on your mind?," You ask, noticing his distance "I'm more than happy to just lay with you."

"And leave you high and dry? Surely you don't think so little of me, darling?" He proclaims, dramatic and overstated. He masks his fondness, waits till your giggling with your eyes closed to smile "It's fine. Really."

You mumble something of him being sure. He tries not to let it bury him, instead opting to shift you until your legs are more open. Until he can press himself against your clothed sex, his own cock pressed. Hard and desperate against the warm, wet outline of your cunt. You squeak, nearly try to shuffle away.

But Astarion holds your hips, lets himself rut into you. He sinks into the desire, into his own want - sucking air between the sharp space between his teeth as you moan so desperately from the friction. That friction alone could bring you to orgasm makes his head feel light

. Over and over, until you're whining so beautifully. Like you need him.

Maybe Astarion can list one of his desires. He likes when you need him, at least half as much as he needs you.

"Like I told you so valiantly," His breath is shorter as he wraps your legs around his waist, lets his teeth brush against your neck "It's fine. I'm more interested in this."

You whine, your eyes fluttering open - mouth widened like you'll drool from so little. Terribly sensitive to the touch, Astarion can't help but push his hips up into you again. Desire to make you needy, make you feel pleasure that he knows he is able to provide. He can give you this much.

Your bodies fit together so perfectly. Limbs entangled and twined together between long, panting breaths. Like they were also so perfectly intended to lock with each other, become one in a way he damn near finds righteous.

You look up at him with a look so dazed he laughs in how sorry he feels. His hand grips around your waist, face buried into your shoulder.

"Don't fret, my love," He hums, soft "I can't wait much longer than this, either."

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Funny you mention my boss… he’s a slight older guy, always in the gym. He’s such a big, powerful, assertive guy. Fucking gorgeous.

But he’s always got some woman on his arm. Never the same one for long… I’ve always fantasied about him settling down and choosing me to be on his arm permanently. The boss at home, not just at the office. Can you make that happen for me?

You really hit the jackpot with this boss! The man is everything you described and more, with a personality as big and as dominant as his body. Sure, he's addicted to women, and yeah, he thinks you're a wimp, but I think I can change his mind...

"Conference room. Now!" the sound of his commanding voice rising over the murmur of the office is a fairly routine occurrence. Still, the mouths of your coworkers snap shut while their eyes fall instinctively to the floor. Your eyes stay locked on him, though, and your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch in awe.

"Ben!" his voice calls from deep in his chest, "You have something to report?"

You stare at his piercing smile, managing to stammer a reply, "Uh no, sir," in as calm of a voice as you can muster.

The boss suddenly cracks the deafening silence with gutteral laughter. Your colleagues around you take this as a signal to join in, but you brave a nervous smile. Once again, you're the butt of your boss's joke. He always pounces at the chance to make fun of you.

The man brushes off his amusement and gets started with his weekly progress meeting, barking out productivity rates like they're the only things that matter. The guys sitting around you eagerly take notes, but you take the time to study the great man standing before you. You want his attention so bad!

"Ben, are you paying attention?" the boss asks.

"Yeah, boss..." you reply shakily, and it's true! You heard every word he was saying, but you still can't muster up a response before he is fed up waiting.

"If you aren't listening then get out!" he commands, "Grab me some coffee, if you can handle that. I need a new receptionist, Ben, and if you're not careful, it'll be you!"

The assembly of guys snicker under their breaths, and you feel eyes staring at your back as you step out. You can't help but wonder why the boss is so hard on you, when he goes so easy on that stupid woman. It's bad enough that he's promoted her twice in the last month, but does he really need to make out with her in front of everyone too?

Rebecca is the latest woman your boss has enjoyed. Like all the other girls he's been with, she is confident, clever, and absolutely stunning. However, unlike all the other girls, Rebecca is his employee.

Needless to say, she's a bitch, but your boss doesn't care. He seems to enjoy Rebecca's ruthless climb to the top. At least he does for now. You know he'll get bored with her sooner or later and move on to someone else.

Maybe I can speed up the process...maybe I can manipulate it to end in your favor...

I enter his mind in the middle of the presentation, causing him to pause his speech unceremoniously. His employees wait patiently for him to resume, but his head is battling to reject my influence. Even a great man like him fails.

His brain falls under my control, and I can feel his competitive and strategic areas working overdrive to run this business. However, there are two small sections that seem very different. These areas are much more calm, involving two key things to his satisfaction: one is his primal desire for women and the other is his pleasure for bullying you.

Why should you have to be the one he likes to humiliate? Why can't he want to rip off your clothes instead of Rebecca's? Why should his mind have to work this way?

Oh wait, it doesn't have to!

It takes me seconds to swap the two concepts. In an instant, his urge to bully is directed towards women, and an insatiable lust is pointed at you and only you.

"Ben!" he calls, his words still have the same bite they always do, making you spill some coffee as you flinch.

You can't help but freeze as the man marches across the office. His employees scatter out of his way, fearing they'll be pushed if they don't, but they all look confused as to what the boss is actually going to do when he gets to you.

"Babe?" Rebecca snaps as he brushes past her.

A part of your boss's mind yells defiantly, insisting on his heterosexual orientation, but I swiftly put out that spark of a thought.

"We're done," he tells her flatly, "And you're fired. You lied on your resume."

"I told you that in private!" she screeches.

The man winces, not wanting to make this harder than he has to, but I correct his thoughts once again. He needs to remember to humiliate her like he used to do to you.

"And I'm telling you to go. I should've never let a woman try to do a man's job." His eyes find you as he finishes his statement.

Rebecca scoffs and storms off as he marches right up to you. The boss doesn't wait for permission to grab your waist. His swollen arms pull you into his chest, and his mouth is already exploring your own. You can feel his hand wandering down your backside. For a moment, you regain enough composure to worry about how this looks to the office. Your shoulders tense up as you realize all of your coworkers are watching the boss enjoy feeling you up like he did all those other girls.

Don't worry. I reach into his mind once more, reminding him to be hyper aware of your comfort levels at all times. Every husband should have that quality, don't you think?

"Let's get out of here," you hear him say, as he pulls his tongue from your mouth, "I can tell your getting a bit tense."

"Ok..." you breath in response.

The boss grips your hand roughly and walks you out of the office. Everyone else is either staring at the ground in fear or staring at you in awe. Either way, you don't know how to feel, but you can't help but enjoy the look on Rebecca's face as her former boyfriend escorts you down his private elevator.

The whole way home, all he thinks about is what he wants to do to you. He'll treat you rough, just like he used to do with all his girlfriends, but I also stuffed a few of your fantasies in that mind of his. He's about to do exactly what you like without even realizing it.

"Come here," he growls as you arrive in his bedroom.

"This place is huge," you gasp at the sight of his giant house.

"Get over here Ben!" he demands, growing more impatient.

You approach, stunned by the rock hard abs suddenly peaking out from beneath his suit. His expression is intense, like he's about to fire you, but you're not going anywhere. He may have been a straight executive this morning, but now he's gay as hell. Well, he's into you as hell. Nothing else will turn him on ever again.

Enjoy the company of your boss! A guy as assertive and successful as him is a definite keeper. I'm already planting the idea of marriage in his mind...