#i do feel really bad that it came across that way and it was never my intention
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teach me? // Quinn Hughes
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a drunk conversation leaves your best friend wondering.
AN: based off this anon, this is the first of a few ideas i have for this topic so enjoy part one!🫶🏻
WC: 1.1k
CW: smut, quinn talks you through it, fem masturbating, a little bit of possessive quinn.
Quinn knows he should leave, he knows he shouldn't break your trust and listen but his feet won't move. He can hear your giggles, not a sign of discomfort in the conversation. A drastic difference from anytime you've been around the guys when these topics are brought up.
“y/n! Are you telling me you’ve never gotten off?!” There was another laugh, he couldn't tell who. Too focused on your answer. How could no one treat you right? No one’s found pleasure between your thighs? Tragedy for them, he thought to himself.
“Oh my god, no. I have gotten off, just not manually? If that makes sense. Like, no one else. No hands, nothing but the handy dandy vibrator.”
He needed to leave, his mind wandering and he knew all the guys would just chirp at him if he walked back with a hard on.
Everyone started to slowly make their way to bed, calling it a night yourself around 1:30. Your room right across from Quinn’s. You knew he was already locked away, trying your best to stay quiet while you were in and out of the bathroom that shared a wall.
Finally settling in your bed and grabbing your phone, seeing a text from Quinn. Come here, please. Followed with another text, Don't knock, just come in.
“Hi Q.” He was quick to pat his bed, “I need to ask you something, and you can tell me no or to fuck off and I wont ever bring it up again. I just, I need to ask.” You nodded at the man, who's now pacing. “I’m telling on myself and I'm sorry in advance. I was walking by when you and the girls were chatting and somethings been stuck in my head since and it makes me feel so bad because you absolutely don't deserve that kind of shit treatment. Oh god, I'm rambling. Anyways, no one ever made you cum? I can show you, oh my god I need to shut up.”
Your face was flushed, your nerves were setting in. Did Quinn just offer to get me off?
As if he could read my mind, “I don’t have to do it! I can just tell you what to do. Like you get yourself off and I just kind of lead the way.”
“You wanna teach me how to make myself cum?” Your voice was small, he was sure if he wasn’t staring at you he wouldn’t have heard. He nodded.
“Yeah, okay. Teach me, Quinny.”
That dumb conversation led you here. On his bed, pj shorts on the floor, legs spread and Quinn watching you from his desk chair.
You were both giggly about it. The nerves settled, it seemed a little funny, silly even. But he's your best friend. Who cares? All bad thoughts went away the second your legs spread and the man's eyes went a little wide, pupils blown as he watched your hand roam down your body.
“Fuck. You’re pretty.” He whispered to himself.
This wasn't sexy, well it wasn't meant to be, at least to your brain.
“Uh, like this?" you asked, a little embarrassed. "Fuck, this is stupid."
You were against his pillows, unable to fully look at Quinn who was still at his desk, starry eyes watching you intently.
Your hand was down the front of your body, shaky fingers searching for something you shared you'd never been able to achieve on your own.
Quinn adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. Forever wishing he put on boxers before you came to his room.
He didn't know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked, "Are you even touching your clit?”
His words ran through you, a simple question truly but it was bordering on the dirty talk you desperately craved to come from his mouth.
You squirmed, shrugging, but he was watching your hand move, content with seeing your fingers moving through your folds.
"I think so?" you claimed. "I don't know. It's just, it's too wet to feel anything really."
Quinn felt his breath get stuck in his throat.
You finally looked up at his face and watched his cheeks burn, wondering if he'd move closer if you asked him to.
You dont know what fell out of your mouth, your brain is just on autopilot. Quinn’s now at the edge of his bed. Hands holding your ankle, rubbing softly.
"No, I know. fuck, um-" Quinn swallowed, shifting again. "Move in circles, be a bit softer. Fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, you'll feel it."
So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your folds, moving a little higher until you reached the spot he was just picking on you for, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your breath hitch.
“There you go, just like that.” He spoke.
You laughed to yourself, feeling stupid, and floaty, searching for that high. You crinkled your nose, as you did slow circles, soft and shy.
"Oh," you mumbled, mouth parting slightly. Still watching Quinn. He pressed his lips together, eyes flickering from your hand to your face.
"Yeah? Does that feel good?"
"Uh huh, feels good."
You thought you heard him let out a groan.
"Will I come?" you asked, still feeling small. "If I keep doing this?"
You were squirming again, moaning softly, chasing your high. He was watching you, open mouthed.
He was too far gone to try and hide it anymore, when he dragged his palm over himself, you moaned, eyes following his movements.
"Yeah, fuck. just keep doing that. Do what feels good, okay?" voice hoarse and wrecked, "you're doing so good, baby."
The praise made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers moving down a little further, confidence building as Quinn kept rubbing over his cock, "Holy shit, that's fucking hot. You gonna show me how tight you are?" he croaked.
"Uh huh", head tipped back into the pillows. you wanted him to keep talking. You just didn't know how to ask him.
Your foot slipped, bumping into Quinn’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around as he held you, making you shiver. "Oh, there you go," he murmured. "That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so good. Gonna have to stretch you out more if you ever want me in there, baby. Fuck. Can't believe you're gonna let me watch you cum. Gonna be a good girl and show me how bad you want it? Won't ever need anyone else after this. Just me and you."
#qh43#quinn hughes blurb#quinny my beloved🫶🏻#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes headcanon#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x y/n
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petals and frost
hotch had called it a brief attachment—six months, no more. an agent liaison from the nyc office, sent down to smooth future communication, to streamline workflow. a brief attachment, hotch had said. too bad spencer hadn’t really remembered to keep it in mind.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)
genre: angst w no happy ending (sowie)
content: avoidant bau reader, non descriptive mentions of sex
word count: 2.8k words
note: written for @mggslover 1k event, congrats once again my love!!! yall can blame @esote-rika for that sadistic ending, i idea dumped that on her and said i didnt know if it wld be too angsty and she begged me to use it so... fuck yalls valentines ig (anyways spencer reid, just know that i, user notlongtolove, would neverrrr do that to you)
a line: You’re spring and the purple wildflowers on his skin are begging to be made yours, over and over again.
And some part of me came alive, the first time that you called me ‘baby’ The perfect genius of our hands and mouths. - Hozier, First Time
Hotch had called it a brief attachment—six months, no more. An agent liaison from the NYC office, sent down to smooth future communication, to streamline workflow. You were easy to like, easy to talk to, definitely easy on the eyes. A brief attachment, Hotch had said. The phrase seemed almost oxymoronic—Spencer hadn’t really remembered to keep it in mind.
As it turns out, there are a lot of other things Spencer forgets around you. When you twist your hair into a haphazard ponytail mid briefing, he forgets the third personality trait of a classified sociopath. You don’t. Interpersonal offensiveness, Reid. That’s criminology 101. Emily makes a comment under her breath about his IQ being slashed in half. If you do hear her, you pretend not to.
When you slide a beer across the table after your first case, he forgets that he doesn’t drink, masking a grimace as he takes a sip. You’re trying. He doesn’t want you to feel bad. By the time he’s on his second, his face is warm. Too fast, he tells himself. From the alcohol, definitely not from the way your thigh is pressed against his in the booth.
Later, when you’ve got him pinned against the wall under a dim lamppost kissing him breathless, he tries to forget the bureau’s policy on interoffice relationships. It’s after hours. You’re not really part of the team. You’re here contractually. A technicality. He can make an exception.
You run your hands through his hair tugging faintly and he decides he will make an exception.
The only thing Spencer doesn’t forget that night is the route from O’Keefe’s to his apartment though it’s a blur all the way from the cab to his apartment to his bed. He pulls you through his front door, fingers curled tight around your wrist. A tangle of limbs and lips pressed against lips feverishly, desperately—He’s certain he’s got that memorised.
“I’m not…” you start, voice faltering between kisses, searching for the right words that just aren’t coming when you’re straddling him and he’s looking at you the way that he is, “not looking for anything… serious.”
Alarm bells go off in his head blaring amidst the euphoric haze he’s in. It’s a warning he registers but doesn’t heed. Caution. Danger ahead. He tells himself that if he squints hard enough, that if he really really tries—It’s a challenge. And Spencer Reid has never backed down from a challenge.
So he bites. Takes the bait. Plays along.
“What makes you think I am?”
You smirk like you don’t believe him but your fingers move to make quick work of the buttons on his shirt anyways. He tries to laugh when you joke about how you should definitely apply for a permanent spot on the team now, but it sticks in his throat. He distracts himself by closing his eyes.
“Spencer,” you say breathlessly, “you sure about this, baby?”
His eyes snap open so fast it startles you, leaving you flustered, halfway to pulling back before his grip tightens at your waist, keeping you right where you are. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.
“W-what’d you just say?”
You blink back at him. “I asked if you’re sure about—”
“No, the—the other part. The last part.”
A pause. Then, deliberately, “Baby?”
Oh fuck.
“Y-yeah. That.” He squeezes his eyes shut like he’s bracing for impact. “Say it again. Please.”
You smirk, the corner of your mouth twitching like you’re holding back a laugh as you lean down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down his bare chest, whispering against his skin, “whatever you want baby.” Spencer has to force his eyes shut again.
You mark him up in the shades of purple wildflowers. Spencer shivers at the sight of them. Theres not much talking when skin finally meets skin. Spencer’s starved, insatiable, burning hot and ice cold all at once. This okay, baby? Yes, yes, god, yes. Can I? Yes, please, please do. Sweat pools around your bodies and Spencer tries to forget how much he wants to remember this moment. The purple wildflowers bloom across his skin—deadnettle, henbit, african violets.
Oh, he thinks, this one’s gonna hurt, isn’t it?
When Spencer wakes the next morning, he’s only mildly afraid to open his eyes.
He’s never done this before—doesn’t know what to expect. But he knows enough to predict the possibilities. Regret. Yours, not his. Shame, embarrassment, maybe even anger. You’ll be gone. Nothing left behind but the imprint of your body on his sheets, marks of purple left in your wake.
Spencer Reid does not like not knowing.
So he braces himself, steels his nerves, and opens his eyes—only to be met with something far worse.
You.
Still here.
Curled up beside him, peaceful, angel deep in sleep, gut wrenchingly soft. In sleep, you’re nothing like how you are on the field. Out there, you’re a good shot, a great one, you think quick on your feet, you’re confident, never stuttering or stumbling like he does. You’re heaven on earth, right in his bed—He’s utterly ruined for it. He doesn’t know what possesses him to move closer, to let newfound confidence guide his arm around your waist. But he does. You stir, just barely, waking to the feeling of his lips pressed into your hair.
The morning melts into something else entirely. An abandoned attempt at breakfast in bed, clothes forgotten in a scattered trail from the kitchen counter to the couch. Unsanitary, he’d think, if he weren’t already too far gone to care. The boy’s insatiable once again, chasing a thirst only you seem to have awakened in him. It’s fiery and passionate as drinks you in, icy cold hisses when you nip at his neck. But you’re neither summer nor winter. You’re spring and the purple wildflowers on his skin are begging to be made yours, over and over again. The way your nails claw at his back, marks of sinful desire turning into ivy that grows to cover you both. It’s entirely all encompassing.
God, you have him in the palm of your hand and you don’t even know it.
Dancing around the team is its own kind of purgatory. Turtlenecks in sweltering Texas heat which you make up for with a fleeting kiss to his cheek in the break room when everyone else has their back turned. Spencer tells himself to keep his feelings in check, to keep his adoration at bay. But it’s hard to when you exist so seamlessly within the liminal spaces of the team. Always in Hotch’s good books. Cracking jokes just dirty enough to make Morgan laugh and Rossi raise a brow. Even JJ loves you.
Silently, Spencer thanks the BAU’s abysmal budget for the run-down motel they’ve stuck you in. It makes it that much easier to convince you to stay at his place—only for a night or two, maybe three, maybe four, eventually a Baby, Hotch is gonna call us in soon anyway, and the freeway near yours is a nightmare in the mornings. You might as well stay one more night. He seals with a look, a soft plea, and you cave every time.
5 months and a week is what you’ve built together. Your days are disgustingly domestic and Spencer just can’t seem to get enough. It’s not like the two of you go out much. Long days (and longer nights) in the field leave you both drained, running on fumes. Just enough energy left to call in takeout accompanied with something strong for you, water for him. Just enough left to trade lazy kisses between bites and fall into bed tangled together. This is it, isn’t it?
Waking to rushed mornings, shared showers, half-hearted protests when you insist on shampooing his hair for him. Bare feet on hardwood floors and the bumping of hips in the kitchen as he makes coffee for two. Rendezvous on a crappy motel mattress that creaks beneath the weight of both of you when you run out of clothes for the week. Baby, we shouldn’t really—swallowed by the press of lips.
Your laughter comes to him in little bursts of light. You’re his absolute heart in human form.
The purple wildflowers haven’t made an appearance in awhile but spring blooms in his chest all the same. When you inevitably drift off to the sound of his voice reading Spencer makes a mental note to bring The Iliad when he comes to visit. You’ll probably be done with Dante’s inferno by then. The weak fistful you have of his shirt tightens ever so slightly in your sleep and he knows what you want. He turns to shut off the light and fits himself against you, tucking you closer to his chest. Spencer tries to distract himself from the fact that you’re set to leave in a month. He’d drink dry the River Lethe to forget it if he could. Instead, in the quiet, he allows himself to think about what the weather will be when he gets the chance to visit you.
He’s always wanted to go to New York. He’s never been the best flyer and he doesn’t know how he’ll fare on a flight without the comfort of his team and the jet’s coffeemachine. It’ll have to make do, he thinks. It’s only a little over an hour’s flight. He tells himself it’s basically nothing. He can handle it. Besides, he can always make the eight hour drive, or the six hour train. The options are endless, much like his devotion to you—He’ll walk to you if he has to.
“Do you think you’ll have time for a trip when I come visit?” Spencer asks one night, eyes boring holes into the ceiling. You’re too busy fumbling with the buttons of his pants to catch the lovelorn grin tugging at his lips. “I know there’s probably a lot to see in New York, but I’ve been saving my days off. And if I catch Hotch on a good day, I think I could carve out a few more.”
“Oh, baby, I don’t know,” you murmur, distractedly, “I usually don’t get much time off when I’m back. Let me know if you are planning to come, though—I’d love to show you around for a day or two.”
The fuck?
Show him around? A day or two?
It’s frosty. Ice cold. A slow caress of his cheek at arms length. Cruel in the way that kindness can be. He tenses beneath you, shifting upright so suddenly that you blink up at him, confused.
“Everything okay, baby?”
The frown on his face indicates he’s anything but okay. “Yeah,” Spencer lies. “I just… I just thought—I mean, you knew I was planning to come visit, right?”
You hesitate. “Spence, we didn’t really discuss that, I—”
“I know we didn’t.” He tries to keep his frustration subtle, but it slips through when he runs a hand through his hair sharply. “But this? Us? How could I not?”
You try again, gentler this time. “Oh, baby, you don’t have to. I know you’re really busy, and—”
“I want to.”
The realisation settles slowly into your features. And then, quietly—naively—he lets himself ask, “Don’t you want me to?”
Silence.
Oh.
Somewhere deep inside him the ivy shrivels and the purple wildflowers wither. It appears that spring has come to a close.
“Spencer,” you say gravely, “I thought we talked about this—” He doesn’t hear the rest. It all dissolves into static, white noise humming in his skull. He hates that tone on you—the way it sounds so careful, so deliberate. Its how you talk to Hotch, to unsubs, to people that need to be managed. Never how you talk to him. Not how you talk to him when you share sly jokes and interlock pinkies at the back of the van, thighs touching when you share a blanket in the jet. Not how you talk when you whisper baby, stop, someones gonna see us when he insists on a chaste kiss to your nose and another to your forehead—Because how could he ever stop at one?
He blinks back into focus when you reach for his hand, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.
He should brace for the inevitable. He knows what’s coming, but he’s too far gone for it to matter, too far off the deep end for it to hurt now. What’s a stab to the heart when you make up for it with cotton-soft kisses and a feather light touch? I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t be sad. I wish I could stay too. Don’t be mad, okay? I don’t want you to be mad at me. As if he ever could be. Not when you’re kissing him the way that you are. Still, Spencer tries to tell himself that the wildflowers that bloom into rosettes beneath your touch are fragile things. He tries to carve it into his bones to remind himself that they won’t survive the winter of your absence.
It starts with the smallest frost, like soft snowflakes clinging to his lashes, signs he might have missed if he wasn’t already looking out for them. “Baby, you shouldn’t have,” you say when he comes home with a restock of your makeup remover. Spencer only shrugs, wordless. He knows you mean it. Not out of politeness, not out of gratitude, but because there won’t be any use for it soon.
Winter calls for shorter days, for less sunlight. It brings more cases, more exhaustion, more time spent apart. Nights where Spencer wakes up to an empty bed because you’d insisted on packing your suitcase, and insisted on doing it alone. As it turns out, the cold really does bite.
It all couldn’t happen fast enough.
Nobody bats an eye when Spencer insists on tagging along to drop you off at the airport. It’s practical, really—an extra set of hands. Even Morgan doesn’t say a word, doesn’t call him lover boy with that knowing smirk. Maybe he would’ve if Spencer didn’t already look like he was on the brink of death. Hotch keeps his goodbye brief, a quiet nod, a quick squeeze of your shoulder after he helps unload your suitcase from the van. He mumbles something about keeping in touch, about how the door’s always open.
Spencer is the one who walks you to your terminal. You walk briskly ahead of him, fingers curled loosely around the handle of your suitcase. You’d brushed off his offer to help—All the better because he has to shove his hands into the pockets of his coat just to keep them steady. He tries to count the steps between the check-in counter and security. All in all, both literally and ironically, too little too late.
This is finality, signed, sealed, delivered. The clock has run out. Spencer Reid is out of time. And, for once, Spencer Reid is out of words.
So, it’s you who takes his hand, pulling him closer. Drop me a call if you ever come visit okay? I will, I will. You’ll love it there. Take care. Call me whenever. This was amazing. You’re amazing. You’re so good. Too good. It’s you who tilts his chin and kisses him with such force he wants call it love. He would call it love. If you asked, he’d rip the wildflowers from his ribs and place them at your feet as proof disguised as an offering. You’re kissing like you’re trying to make him forget—where you both are, where you’re going, where he’s staying. You pull away, breathless, fingertips ghosting along his jaw when the intercom blares above you. He lets the last shreds of sunlight slip from his grasp when you walk through the gate. Spencer doesn’t stay to see if you turn back or not. He’s felt like an afterthought enough.
The van is quiet when he climbs in.
Spencer ignores Hotch’s glances, keeps his head down, busies himself with the air conditioning. Granted, he rarely sits shotgun, but still, today, it feels colder than usual.
“She’s a great agent.”
“She is. She… worked great in the team.” Spencer’s fingers tighten around the vent. He nods, swallows around the lump in his throat. “You should’ve offered her a spot.”
Hotch’s eyes stay set on the road. “I did. JJ and I drafted a two-year contract for her.”
Spencer scoffs bitterly, “yeah? I’m sure Strauss took that well.”
“Strauss had no issue with it.”
That makes Spencer pause. His head turns, brows pulling together. “Then?”
A beat of silence before Hotch exhales, “she rejected it.”
The world stops. His stomach drops first, then his chest. Fragile stems and violet petals turn brittle, cracking as the frost works its way through him. Tiny pieces of petals and frost splinter his being. A brief attachment, no doubt. He should’ve known better. He should’ve noticed the subtlest change in the winds, distractions cloaked in tender touches as wandering hands made their way beneath clothes, apologies in a baby, I wish I could stay too. He really should’ve remembered to forget you.
He feels the wildflowers inside him freeze over and with the gentlest shift of breath—They shatter.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader angst#lovers1kevent#criminal minds fanfiction
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nobody gets me
wc: 1,329
summary: one night, two loner teens find comfort in one another
warnings(?): fluff, smidge of angst, cursing, shitty dads, smoking, use of y/n
a/n: another edition to the rafe x maybank!reader series. lwk the ending is kinda bad 😭 but i tried. lemme know if y'all wanna see more!!
the cool waters lapped against the shore, washing up little treasures from the ocean. taking a long hit from your vape, you leaned your head back to let the smoke fall from your lips. you slightly grimaced at the watermelon flavoured smoke. it had been a while since you did nic, but jj finished up your last joint. you found comfort in the cold and silence that was wrapped around you. it had been a long night for you.
you came home from your workshift to find jj gone. probably out with john b and all of. however, shortly after, your dad barged into the house. definitely drunk and definitely angry. that was, sadly, something that wasn't new. you took another hit and closed your eyes, trying to drown out the hateful words that he spewed at you.
"maybank?" you heard a voice call out to you.
you opened an eye to find none other than rafe cameron staring down at you. it was a surprise to see anyone, but especially someone like him, this late at the beach.
"what're you doing here?" he asked, moving to stand in front of you. his hair was messy, like he'd run his fingers through it a bunch, and his clothes were disheveled. and was he... crying? you couldn't tell in the dark.
"i could ask you the same thing." you eyed him up and down. his movements were jittery, while his eyes darted across the beach. he didn't stop fiddling with the hem of his shirt either. either he was about to have a panic attack or he was high. maybe both. "you wanna sit down?" you offered, your voice a gentle tone. his blue eyes made eye contact with you, before shakily nodding "y-yeah."
he dropped down next to you on the sand. knee bumping yours as he did so. you glanced at him through the corner of your eye. his gaze stays focused on his hands. numbly picking at his fingers. "stop doing that, you'll bleed." you pushed his hands down. almost immediately you realized what you'd done. "sorry," you mumbled, letting go of him.
he wearily watched you, but stayed quiet. when he wasn't with his asshole friends, he wasn't that bad. he was practically hated by your friends. especially by your brother. you never thought of him that way. with you, he was nice and... shy. "i'm sorry that i interrupted your quiet time or whatever," he muttered, now intently watching you.
"it's okay. it's a public beach, rafe. not just mine," you replied lightly. a minor way to lighten the mood. he let out a quiet chuckle. "maybe not, yeah. but i find you here often. speaking of, why are you here? thought i saw your pogue brother and his friends having a party."
"oh, uh, i'm not a big party person. prefer to be alone and stuff like that." you take another quick hit. his eyes drop down to where the smoke falls from your lips and he suddenly feels his mouth dry up. he swallows. “do you mind if i…?” he asks hesitantly.
you feel yourself stiffen up when you notice him looking at your lips. however, you soon realize he was talking about your vape. “huh? oh, yeah, here ya go.”
he gratefully takes it from you and hits it. a slight grimace spreads on his face when he tastes it. “watermelon, really?” he asked.
you let out a soft laugh. “yeah, sorry. jj finished my last joint. can't even find my dispo, either.”
“you know, i, uh, i sell. all kinds of shit. like, weed, geekbar, whatever you want. if you're interested, obviously. you don't have to feel-” he started to ramble.
you place a gentle hand on his bicep to stop him. “rafe. i get it. i’ll keep that in mind.” you could feel his body stiffen under your touch and gently smiled. no way rafe cameron was getting nervous around you. your hand trails down to hold his wrist, swiping at his pulse point.
his heart was racing.
“you wanna talk about why you’re here so late?” you asked softly.
his breath hitched at your feather like touch. “uh, m-my dad. him and i got into a fight. some stupid shit about the family. i mean, he acts like i don’t care!” he begins to ramble, hands shaking and eyes welling with tears, “b-but i do… i do care, i just don't understand why he can't see that. he makes me feel like shit, y/n… and i-” his voice breaks as some tears fall.
“oh, rafe,” you cooed, guiding his head to your chest. you ran your fingers through his blonde hair, brushing his bangs out of his face. his shaky hands gripped the front of your sweater, tears soaking it. it was so odd to see a typically strong and cocky boy break so much. you always hated ward cameron. he was a terrible man, both as a person and a father. it was defnitely clear to see now.
there was always an unspoken connection between the two of you. despite growing up on opposite sides of outer banks, you both felt like you shared more qualities than most. both of you always were the odd siblings out, like the black sheep of your families. so you understood what it felt like to be practically hated by your father, yet still craving to be loved and accepted by him.
“i get it, rafe. it sucks to feel like that because of your dad,” you whispered into his hair. “but you're not a careless person. i can see that you care, you just… show it differently. you're a good man, rafe. don't let him make you feel like you're shit or anything less than.”
he sniffled, lifting his head from your chest. “you think so?” he asked shakily.
“course i do. despite what others say, i can tell who you are. who you really are.”
i can tell who you are.
rafe had never heard those words before, and if he had, he'd probably never have believed it. yet coming from you… he did.
“thanks, y/n. i know i don't say it much, hell, i rarely say it, but you're a good person to me. no matter what,” he said, smiling gratefully at you.
you smiled, noticing something. “you called me y/n…”
“what?”
“you called me by my name. like, my actual name. you never do that.”
he hadn't even noticed that. “huh, i guess i am. can't exactly call you by your last name, right? that's reserved for your brother, who i’m… not particularly fond of. i kinda like you though,” he said with a slight wink.
there he was. the rafe that you knew and grew up with. “alright, rafe,” you replied, playfully shoving him. “i literally hate you.” yet there was a smile on your face.
“nah, you love me,” he countered.
you were thankful for the moonlight, or else he’d see the blush blooming on your face. “whatever.” a few moments of silence pass by, but it's not awkward at all. suddenly, you ask, “you wanna go to the gas station with me? i’d rather not walk there alone.”
his head turned towards you, blue eyes shining. “hell yeah. you got a car?”
you shake your head. “dude, i’m a pogue. i barely got any new clothes.”
he laughs softly and it makes you feel giddy. “that's okay, i don't have mine with me. we can just walk.” he stands up, dusting off the sand from his shorts. holding out a hand towards you, you accept it. once he pulls you up, he doesn't let go. neither do you. “c’mon, let’s go.”
the two of you walk towards the boardwalk, a blanket of silence covering the two of you. it isn't awkward though. understanding, and perhaps something else, passes between you two. and maybe, that's all either of you needed. somebody who understood.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x maybank!reader#drew starkey x reader#outer banks x reader#rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks
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☆ more random obey me headcanons !
characters: the demon brothers! <3
small note: i am back. and i will disappear once more after this..also i apologize for the VERYYY LATE upload. i am not dead and i wont die until om fandom comes back to life i tell ya 😤😤
cw: none! :p
☆ lucifer:
- occasionaly has thoughts of getting a german shepherd but cerberus would get EXTREMELY PISSED if he did. also another reason why he refuses to let satan keep cats in the house. cerberus will gobble them up in less than a millisecond.
- has a pretty high libido (as if it isn't already obvious in the game..) he really enjoys taking out his stress on you everytime he gets the chance. buckle up buttercup ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ
- one if his biggest secrets is keeping like a few albums of him and his brothers back when they still lived in the celestial realm. he keeps em hidden realll good
- sometimes asks levi or mammon to help him with his D.D.D
- "mammon, help me with this." "levi, why is my screen stuck like this?" "lucifer you paused the video-"
- he likes silk pajamas :3 he also can't STAND sweatpants for some reason.
- once a week, he dedicates atleast an hour or two grooming his own wings and his horns. there's a lot of occasions where he transforms in his demon form for parties and such.
- reads newspaper while taking a shit. guys dont argue with me on this its real.
- he has cold lips but his kisses are always very passionate with you!
- very well mannered everytime he's on the dining table and eating. y'all will never catch him spill a single food on the table or his clothes.
☆ mammon:
- eats with his hands sometimes when he's alone. and if someone ever finds out his excuse is always "so what? sometimes eating food with your hands is a better way to savor the taste." and i completely agree with him
- cleans his jewelry a lot. he wants them dazzling that people will do a double take when they see his mega awesome drip. like "haha yeah yall cant beat me on this baby" type shit
- cooks the BEST beef curry. the level of spice is perfect-o and beel always pesters him to make it.
- during family photos, he's always the one doing silly poses. he does hand stands, he has his ass out on display, he's ON THE FLOOR
- always man spreading in class. like you can literally see him chewing on his pen from across the room with his legs sprawled out
- you know that empty feeling you get after watching a movie? double that and give it to mammon. man takes it HARD especially if it was a sad movie that he watched. he'll feel empty for a gooooddd while
- always breaks his earphones, so when d.d.d airpods came out he got really happy and bought like 6 pairs (he ended up breaking all of them too)
- blasts music like crazy when he works out and lucifer absolutely HATES his music style and thinks it's unsanitary and inappropriate. like ok whatever you old fucking hag
- doesn't close the bathroom door after he uses it LIKE BITCH CLOSE THAT SHIT RN
- follows all of his fan accounts on devilgram ugh my boy <33
☆ leviathan:
- there's just like random times where he'll suddenly remember all of his past cringe phases. and it like appears on the most random times it's actually pissing him off
- always fantasized about creating character designs for simeon ever since he found out he was the creator of TSL
- he has a bad habit of HOLDING IN HIS PISS. yes he holds them in. he developed this habit ever since he got addicted to gaming. luckily for him he's a demon but boy if he was human he would've gotten kidney problems by now.
- levi would never ever admit it but he enjoyed getting spun around by mammon when they were still kids. like mammon grabs his arms then just spins him around and stuff
- sleeps with his headphones on and now he can't sleep without it. he's just like me jujujuju
- he really likes alex g :3
- sometimes he wishes he was a magical pop star girl performing for people on stage because they always look so happy when he watches them
- loves being the little spoon so much. sometimes it's awkward with him when he's the big spoon because he's either trembling or really stiff like a log
- he enjoys kissing your cheeks the most because he's convinced he'll melt if he tries kissing you on the lips
- has a hidden album on his phone of stolen shots of you doing the most random shit ever. eating, sleeping, showering..💀
☆ satan:
- even when it's freezing cold, his feet are always peeking out of his blanket. can't sleep without his bare feet hanging out.
- doesn't need reading glasses but insists on buying them because he thinks it fits the detective aesthetic. unfortunately he loses them a lot and no one knows why
- besides lucifer, satan is very sleek and neat when putting on neck ties
- had a phase where he absolutely despised coffee and tea because he found out lucifer enjoyed it. deep down he knew he enjoyed them too and it'd be one of the reasons for his constant rampages..
- started enjoying lofi music ever since levi introduced him to it.
- out of all the brothers, satan feels the most comfortable crying in front of mammon the most. (can i get some big brother mammon appreciation out here? 😔)
- he's the type to practice his lines in front of the mirror before asking you out on the date! he just wants everything to be perfect for you and yes sometimes he messes up but it's your fault for being too pretty
- worked as a librarian once as a part time job and lemme tell you..sales went high as fuck after that and the manager even BEGGED him to stay for longer. (which he did, as long as he got to have free books :p)
- tried the "which of the seven brothers are you?" quiz and got lucifer.
- is very skilled with the piano and even made a few pieces that reminded him of you <3
☆ asmodeus:
- really enjoys ear piercings and even got one himself!
- owns a clothing brand in the human world and even tried making you the co-owner. it's a really big success and he uses the money to buy you gifts
- can't go a day without kissing you atleast once! he feels like his lips would dry if doesn't get to even leave a peck on you
- does that back arch thing in his room when he's bored 👀
- bought so many makeup products once to the point lucifer banned makeup in HOL for like a month 💀 asmo held a grudge for a while because he was lowkey kinda conscious of his appearance when he'd go outside. especially when he's in front of you! ;((
- second most followed user on devilgram! (top one is diavolo lol)
- if he had to choose a favorite makeup brand from the human world it's either the ones with the cute packaging (ex: flower knows, too faced) or the high end brands like dior
- changes bed sheets like twice a week because it's either he can't stand the feeling anymore or found a new inspo on devilgram
- says he's not easily influenced on buying new things like mammon or levi but the moment he sees something go viral he's already purchasing 10 of them. (and posts it on his feed to gain those likes)
- crop dusts every now and then
☆ beelzebub:
- finds those gross ass thirst trappers who sexualizes food nasty asf and is a big donutdaddy hater
- wins awards from eating competitions a lot and always ALWAYS spoils you and belphie first
- always the viewer in situations where one of the brothers fight w eachother. mans always there for some reason so lucifer always approaches him first when smth happens lol
- sometimes he goes overboard with body sprays
- he likes hand made accessories/jewelry. belphie was the one who made his choker on his everyday outfit and cherishes it everyday
- he thinks tongue piercings are cool but never went out of his way to get one
- buys burger merch or any food merch in general lol
- he was never really the type to care about his own appearance and only did the bare minimum to make himself look presentable. but sometimes he does feel insecure when people get too intimidated by him, especially when it's you.
- "mc, you're not afraid of me right? i won't hurt you. i promise"
- majority of the time he's the one who fixes belphie's bed and cleans his side of the room so lucifer won't get mad at him
☆ belphegor:
- has no shame in stealing pillows from furniture shops and always gets away with it
- unintentionally says the most sassy remarks ever and stares at you when you call him out for it
- being the youngest, he doesn't really need to go shopping for his own necessities because one of the brothers already buys it for him before he can even step out of the house
- when you'd go back to the human world, he'd always gaze up at the stars and wonder how you're doing and if you're getting enough sleep
- always constipated like idk he just seems like the type to only shit once a week lmfao
- one time (or two..or three) he accidentally used a different toothbrush that belonged to one of the brothers because he was half asleep
- hates the feeling of jewelry on him because he thinks it's just in the way. especially hates earrings because it's a nuisance when he sleeps.
- HORRIBLE driver and can't drive for shit. crashed mammon's car once because he fell asleep. and his in defense was because traffic was so long smh
- he can't live without his cardigans. always wears long sleeved shirts unless it's summer season in the devildom and settles for loose shirts. he also has a habit of pulling his sleeves that it nearly covers his whole hand
- very calming singing voice. back when he was still in the celestial realm, a bunch of angel kids would approach him at night, telling him to sing lullabies for them to help them sleep <3
note: had to repost :P ALSO TY FOR 73 FOLLOWERS! hiphiphorey
#obey me#obey me shall we date#om! swd#obey me headcanons#leviathan obey me#obey me crack#om! leviathan#obey me lucifer#om! lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#beelzebub obey me#belphegor obey me#om! satan#om! belphegor#om! beelzebub#om! asmodeus#obey me nightbringer
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Through sickness and in health
Seungcheol drabble because why not? And also so self indulgent i feel like that's more of a warning. hope you guys like it. Have a great week ahead y'all!!
idol!husband!seungcheol x wife!reader
au : you were just having a really bad day, and just like always your husband is here to your rescue.
word count - roughly 1000.
genre - fluff
note: pictures are not mine and belong solely to their owners. :)
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The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan, the gentle whoosh of the wind from the windows, slight scent of someone baking cookies wafting in the air, children's little giggles and chatters, and the evening sun filtering through the open panes, stretching across the floor and making the living room look cozy and peaceful.
It all was picturesque and soothing. Familiar, wonderful and everything so on.
But it also wasn’t. At least not for today.
You came back from your hectic day of work, the coffee spilling across your white blazer making you work with just a shirt in the winter, the unusual stutter of yours while presenting a topic regarding a company retreat and the worst of all, the “difficult level” of cold – It was just cold where you couldn’t even do anything anymore- that bumped up your day’s rating.
-17/10. Would not want this on your worst enemy.
That’s the reason why you were standing in the middle of your living room, your bag slumped on the floor as your hands clenched tight and teeth slightly gritting as your eyes teared up because of the extreme overstimulation. The cold was making it even worse, whenever you wanted to sneeze the glasses, you had been making it harder.
You didn’t know if other people with glasses felt this way during cold or it was just you.
“Please tell me you’re alive.” You turn towards the door, where your husband is now standing as he runs his hands through his hair. Probably rushed back from practice because you called him.
“I’m sorry, I caught the “difficulty level” cold, Cheol.” Your voice wavers, eyes turning blurry as your crankiness goes up a notch. It was a word you used to describe it because you didn't know how else to put it. He walked straight up to you leaving his own bag as he did and just held your face in his hands. His gaze turning softer.
“You were fine this morning when I left?” He asks, hugging you now, his chest warm, giving you comfort of familiarity.
You just hum as he cradles you against him.
“Get freshen up, I’ll make you porridge. Okay?” He says pulling back a minute later.
“But you don’t know-”
“Shh. I’ll take care of it, go now.” He gently pushed you into the room and went ahead to close the door behind him, not before winking at you with his huge smile that showed off his dimples.
You shake your head at his antics, somehow getting a bit of calm in the unlimited crankiness in you. It just so happens; you get a very heated amount of crankiness whenever you are sick. Mostly other people would suffer because of your constant outbursts during then, but your irritated self never seemed to chase away Seungcheol.
Your husband always seemed to somehow just get it. How and what kind of sorcery was that was beyond your imagination.
After what seemed like half an hour or so, you came out of the warm shower, wearing your pajamas and tied up hair. The air now seemed chill but embraced you well.
“Salt or no Salt?” You heard Cheol talking to someone as you walked towards your kitchen and there was Mingyu on the phone as he looked annoyed at the oldest for even calling him for that.
“Hyung, this isn’t your first time cooking porridge.” He sighs as he later tells to add a pinch of salt to make it taste better. Seungcheol thanks him and cuts the call before tasting the porridge a bit himself and sets the pot onto the table.
The table was set within a minute, him looking at his own masterpiece and being quite proud at himself. You chuckle to yourself as you look at him.
“What are you doing, MasterChef?”
“You scared me,” He startles a bit before looking at you.
“Sorry,”
“Come here, now.” You go ahead and take a seat as he pulls the chair for you. And just asks you to wait a second before he too takes a seat beside you too look at your reaction for it.
He nods at you to eat and you do so, closing your eyes and letting the soft porridge let you fill with warmly.
“How is it?” You finally look at him and speak, “It is good.” He smiles wide as he sighs and leans back into his chair.
“You worked hard for it, huh?” You tease him and he just acts that way too.
As if he worked the whole day to prepare meals for the whole nation, he pretends to wipe away the sweat on his forehead and talks about how hard it is as his job to cook. You laugh along and feel a lot better just by sitting with him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He asks, his head now leaning onto the elbow as he looks at you.
“I think I got a little irritated and got maybe a bit mad at you, the cold isn’t an excuse but I shouldn’t have talked or acted that way with you.”
“It’s fine. If not with me, who else would you get cranky at?” You swat at his arm playfully and he laughs with you.
“It’s just like they say. Through sickness and in health,” he says.
“Yeah, Through bad porridge and good porridge.” He pouts a bit when you say that before leaning closer to you.
“Hey, you should be glad I came home before you were at a police station for killing someone in that mood.” You narrow your eyes at him and he just raises up his arms surrendering.
“Okay, I will say it.”
He does and you smile at him. “I love you,” you whisper.
“I love you too, little firecracker.”
And even through a bad day, your heart felt a lot lighter and more bearable knowing he would always stay by your side. No matter the moods.
Through sickness and in health, remember?
#seventeen scoups#seungcheol#fluff#seungcheolxreader#pure fluff#seventeen#choi seungcheol#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#scoups fluff
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚。⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter Two)
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➤ Summary: Surprisingly, Jude and Noah seem to be getting on well, until Noah does something to get in Kaia's bad book.
➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC
➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.
➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)
➤ Word Count: 3,171
TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
Kaia’s POV
“And this is Jude. My best friend.” Silence hangs in the air for a short while after the introductions. My stomach is tied in a knot while I watch Jude take in my new boyfriend. If it were a stranger perceiving Jude, they’d probably say he’s happy to meet him and that he’s happy for his friend. But I’m not a stranger. His body language, the slight strain in his jaw from the way he’s gritting his teeth and the way his eyes quickly flash to mine tells me everything I need to know.
Jude extends his hand in Noah’s direction. “Hey,” he says while Noah’s hand also leaves the side of his body, grasping Jude’s. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Noah says, quieter than how Jude said it, nerves an obvious thing he’s feeling. The last time Noah came over, and met my family, I knew he had been really nervous, and rightly so because he knows how much my family means to me. But, when it comes to Jude, I had spoken about him so much, about how we had known each other our whole lives, grown up together. Noah knew that Jude meant just as much to me as my family did. However, there was something else about Jude that didn’t threaten Noah, I don’t think (it had threatened other guys in the past), but there was the small fact of Jude being the man in my life. Jude was Noah’s competition, even though I’d told him he had nothing to worry about in the romantic department, and he believed me, Jude’s status in my life was something for Noah, or any other person who wanted to be with me forever, to reach for.
“Oh, hi, Noah,” my mum walks into the room, carrying two plates of food. “Right, these two are for you,” she nods her head at me and Noah so I promptly take my seat across from Jude, as Noah moves to sit right beside me. “Jude, William will be in in a second with your dinner. He’s currently making sure you both get a couple of extra Yorkshire puddings,” Mum flashes Jude a smile. If there was one thing my dad and Jude had in common it was how much they loved my mum’s Yorkshire puddings. Actually, I’m convinced they are the reason my dad decided to marry my mum in the first place.
“You know me so well,” Jude says and it’s then that I see Jude’s first genuine smile since Noah walked through the door. But it’s no surprise because Jude has always been like another son to my mum, he always has a smile for her.
****
“So, Jude,” Dad says when we’re all finally seated and eating. “Are you enjoying it in Madrid?”
“Yeah,” Jude brings his hand up to cover his mouth, pausing his speech while he finishes his food. “It’s great, barely any rain, and the football’s obviously amazing.”
“You know,” it’s my turn to speak now. “These two,” I wave my fork between my parents. “Literally never shut up talking about you. “Like God, forbid we ever see someone we know when they’re out in town because they’ll get a good old rant about how well you’re doing and how proud they are of you. No, but, honestly, I’m starting to think they’re prouder of you than they are of me,” I let out a laugh, everything I said in jest.
“Oh, don’t be silly. But, of course, we’re proud of you, Jude, you know you’re a part of this family,” Mum says. It had always been inevitable that Jude would be part of our family. My mum had been best friends with Jude’s mum, Denise, for years before they even considered having children. So when they did eventually have kids, they became like bonus children for both of them.
I felt, though, when Mum mentioned that Jude was a part of our family, an awkwardness coming from beside me in Noah’s chair. And although I knew Jude appreciated the comment, and knew that he loved my family just as much as they loved him, I could also tell that he was sensing the same thing I was when I caught his eye.
“So, uhm, Noah,” Jude said, clearing his throat, right before taking a sip of his drink, his attention shifting to the man next to you. “How long are you in England for?”
“Oh, erm, I fly back tomorrow,” Noah nodded, shooting a tight-lipped smile Jude’s way.
Jude nods. “So, did you like working with our Kai, then?”
“Kai?” Noah furrows his brow, turning towards me and tilting his head to the side in question.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “He’s always been the only one to call me that.” I shrug. My whole life everyone had just opted to use my full name, apart from Jude, who had insisted on calling me Kai pretty much since the moment he could talk. “It annoys me when anyone else calls me that.”
“Oh,” Noah squints his eyes, puzzled, but turns back to just nonetheless. “But to answer your question, Jude, it was great working with her.”
“Look at that,” Jude points a Noah, but shifts his gaze back to me. “You come with rave reviews and everything.”
I laugh, but Noah’s the one to speak. “I feel like everything I saw about her before we worked together was a rave review, you don’t get called one of the best actors of our generation without doing anything great, do you?”
“Well, I could give her a few reviews just based on her personality, and, let me tell you, not many of them are that great,” Jude smirks are you, bringing his arms up to his chest when I reach over the table to smack him.
“Oi, watch it,” I can’t help but smile at the pair of them as I slump back in my chair. Watching the two of them interact settled my nerves a little. It was almost a given that anyone I invited into my life had to like Jude. Whether it was a boyfriend or a new friend, my loyalty would always be to Jude over anyone, probably until the day that I got married, so it was better to just make sure that they liked him. Why would I want to know someone who disliked my best friend, someone I’d loved my whole life, anyway?
While Jude and Noah got to talking about everything acting and Jude’s football career, I chose to speak to my parents about my next job, which was starting in February, and my summer plans that would follow. Jude overheard the last part of my conversation, “Are you coming to the Euros? You’ll have wrapped by then, yeah?”
This year’s Euros would be Jude’s third international tournament, and seeing as though I had proudly supported him at the last two, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be going to this one, too.
“Well, that depends,” I placed my knife and fork together on my plate, signifying that I was done. “Are you going to get me free tickets?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“I’ve already added your name to the family and friends list for tickets, don’t you worry,” Jude tried to wink at me but instead ended up doing a confused blink, to which I let out a giggle. “I can also get tickets for you four as well,” Jude nods towards the rest of my family. “You won’t be in the friends and family section, but I can see what I can do.”
“Thank you for the offer, Jude, darling, but me and Will won’t be able to get any time off work, and these two will still be in school. But we’ll be cheering you on from our living room, there’s no doubt about that. And depending on how well we’re doing, we might book some time off for the final, just in case,” Mum winks at him before pressing a kiss to his temple after she’s gotten up to collect everyone’s plates.
“Don’t listen to her, Jude,” Olivia spoke for the first time since we sat at the table. “I want a ticket to every game, and I mean every single game. I’d do anything to miss a month of school.”
“Don’t be silly, Olivia, you’ve got your GCSEs,” Dad looks up from his phone where he’s most likely scrolling through Twitter looking at Sky Sports News or something in that vein.
“That’s exactly why I want to go, Dad. So Jude, can you get me tickets?” She turns her body fully towards him, exaggeratedly fluttering her eyelashes at him.
“You know, Liv, as much as I’d like you there, you really should listen to your dad. Even I had to do my GCSEs,” Jude tells her.
Olivia scoffs, stands from her chair, and in doing so nearly knocks the thing over. “God, why’s it only Kaia that ever gets to do fun things?”
She’s halfway up to her room before I get to properly reply but it doesn’t stop me from calling her a sore loser. “Perks of being your biggest fan, I guess,” I shrug at Jude, a small smirk on my lips. “Oh, hey, speaking of the Euros, it completely slipped my mind that you’re working in Germany at the same time, aren’t you, Noah?” I turn to look at him.
“Oh, yeah, I’m shooting that show in Berlin,” Noah nods.
“So you’ll be able to go to a few games, then?” My dad looks up from his phone, dragged out of his trance and into the conversation.
“Maybe,” Noah says. “Not sure how much free time I’ll have, but hopefully I’ll be able to get to a couple.”
“If Kaia has anything to do with it, you’ll be going to every single one that’s played in Berlin,” Noah laughs, nodding as he admits defeat, knowing my father is very much correct. It’s a habit of mine to drag people to football matches, even if they’re not the slightest bit interested.
While my dad and Noah talk some more about his job in Berlin, I notice Jude shuffling around in his seat out of the corner of my eye. I could just take it as him being uncomfortable after being sat down for almost an hour, but the way he’s looking at my dad and Noah through his lashes, his chin practically against his chest, tells me otherwise.
“Right, why don’t you kids go hang out upstairs or something while I help clean up this mess?” Dad moves to grab the remaining glasses that are left on the table while Jude, Noah and I get up to go upstairs.
When in my bedroom, Jude immediately goes to sit at my desk, and I can tell that he’s preparing himself for a potentially awkward situation. His hand rests on the wooden surface, tapping away and I know it’s only a matter of time before he pulls a pen out of the pot so he can fiddle with it.
I go to flop on my bed, grabbing my childhood teddy that I bring up to rest on my chest. Noah claims his spot beside me, in a much more graceful manner.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence before it could take over the room. “You wanna watch a film or something?” I look between the two guys in my room, a questioning look on my face.
“Um, yeah, sure,” Jude says. “How about w-”
“Stop right there,” I say, sitting up abruptly. “Before you even ask, no I’m not sitting through Pulp Fiction again. Like yeah, Uma Thurman’s hot as fuck, but she’s also only in it for like ten minutes, so what’s the point?”
“Whoah, I wasn’t even about to say that, dickhead,” Jude annoyingly shakes his head at me while he tosses a rubber in my direction, narrowly missing my head. “I was actually going to suggest that Noah picked what we watched, so, you know, it could save the arguing, and then you started yelling at me anyway.”
“Oh, okay, good idea,” I turn towards Noah. “Is there anything you’d like to watch, Noah?”
“Hmm, that’s a hard choice,” Noah says, a deep-thinking expression on his face. “I think I’d like to watch Pulp Fiction.”
Jude burst out laughing and I feel my face drop in agony at the thought of watching it again. I’m genuinely about two seconds away from punching my boyfriend right across the face.
“Oh, Kai, you should see your face. Nice one, Noah,” Jude’s holding his stomach at this point.
“What?” Noah says when Jude calms himself down. “I’ve never seen it.”
That’s the moment both Jude and I stop what we’re doing, turning to face Noah with, what I can only imagine are, the most shocked expressions the two of us could muster.
I let out a laugh of disbelief before finding the words. “You what?”
“Did I hear you right?” Jude pipes up as well.
I’ve never seen Pulp Fiction,” Noah repeats, causing me to lay back down, simply staring at the ceiling while I try and get over my shock.
“An actor who’s never seen Pulp Fiction, well I never.” I raise a finger in the air when I’ve had about ten seconds to process the mindblowing news. “You know what I think we have to do, Jude?” I sit up on my elbows so I can look at him properly. “Pop his Pulp Fiction cherry.”
Jude nods as soon as the suggestion leaves my mouth. “It’s only right.”
“Pulp Fiction it is then,” I’m just about to get up from my bed to grab the DVD, when the door of my bedroom bursts open, with a boisterous seven-year-old on the other side.
Leo immediately rushes over to the side of the bed Noah is at. “Hi, Noah, would you like to come and play Roblox with me?”
The look on Leo’s face is adorable. His big, brown eyes look at my boyfriend with so much adoration, even though he’s only met him once before. But Noah doesn’t seem to like Leo as much as the young boy likes him.
“Oh, I- uhm,” Noah, fidgets, barely making eye contact with him, while I watch on with furrowed brows. “I don’t know how.”
“Well, that’s fine, I can teach you,” Leo bounces in excitement on the balls of his feet. There’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than when he’s playing Roblox.
“Well, I don’t really want to,” Noah says bluntly, leading to Leo’s face dropping, a little pout forming on his lips.
“Oh, okay,” Leo says sadly and I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s getting choked up.
He’s about the leave the room when Jude stands up and walks over to him. Getting on one knee in front of him, he places his hands on the small boy’s shoulders. “Hey, I’ll come and play with you, yeah? we can play that one we were playing last time that you kept beating me at.” Jude picks Leo up, throwing him over his shoulder, causing him to giggle louder than ever. It’s a giggle that can be heard all the way down the hall until they get to Leo’s bedroom.
My room is silent for a while, allowing me quite a bit of time to think about what I just witnessed. The only thing I can think about, though, is that I didn’t say or do anything while Leo was in the room with me. I should’ve done something to make sure he didn’t get upset, not even a little bit.
After a little more time, I say, “What the fuck was that?” I turn to Noah, who has barely moved since Jude and Leo left the room.
“I don’t know, he says, eyes failing to meet mine.
“That’s not good enough, Noah, you almost made him cry because you didn’t want to play with him. He’d be really upset if it wasn’t for Jude being here,” I let out a sigh. It was bad enough thinking about seeing either of my siblings upset but seeing Leo’s face for that short moment that he thought no one wanted to play with him was heartbreaking.
“I’m not good with kids, okay?” I have no idea what to do with them,” Noah says, raising his voice a little.
“Then just let him down easily, then, there was no need to be rude. He’s seven, Noah. He only wanted to play with you, you’re never going to get good with kids if you’re never willing to spend even ten minutes with one,” I scowl at him, mad with him for what he did to my little brother. “You know, it’s probably better if we call it a night, I’m quite tired.”
Noah nods. “Okay,” he gets up from the bed. “I’ll see you after Christmas, I suppose,” he leans down to press a kiss to my lips, which I accept, kissing back gently, but he knows that I’m still pissed off at him and that I’m probably going to be like that for a while longer. I shift my body to get off the bed. “It’s fine, I’ll let myself out.”
“Okay,” you nod. “Night. Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” he says, closing the door behind him on his way out.
I fall back onto the bed, once again finding peace against my duvet, a sigh falling from my lips being the last thing I remember before I slip into a deep sleep.
****
Jude: You okay Sleeping Beauty?
Kaia: God when did I fall asleep? Kaia: Also why are you still up? It’s 3am.
Jude: About 7:30ish. Jude: And I’m not tired but I also wanted to make sure you were okay.
Kaia: I’m doing fine. Kaia: Just shocked me a little that’s all. Kaia: Was Leo okay when you were playing with him?
Jude: Yeah but he did ask why Noah didn’t want to play with him so I just told him that he knew I wanted to play with him instead. Jude: But what he did was really fucked up.
Kaia: I know. Kaia: I'm glad he’s not really upset about it though. Kaia: And thank you for saying what you did. I think I’m still going to take him out for ice cream or something tomorrow tho just to make sure he’s okay.
Jude: No problem and yeah that’ll be good for him. Jude: So did he just leave?
Kaia: no I said it’d probably be best if we called it a night. Kaia: I made it clear that I was pissed at him so that’s why I think he was so fine with leaving early.
Jude: You did the right thing he can’t talk to a kid like that without knowing that he did was wrong. Jude: Anyway I’m off to bed. See you on Christmas day. x
Kaia: Yep, goodnight. x
Taglist: @eunoiasgoal @4evermyownmuse
If you would like to support my work make sure to like and reblog this post, and if you're able, consider buying me a pastry! (I also take writing commissions if anyone would like one).
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham fanfic#jb5#jude bellingham x oc#jude victor william bellingham#hamiltonfc.writes#my works: moth to a flame
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ Blind Eyes Red
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6b11321c2d0053cd832e7dc4af812163/5ec49bb6bbd21cb4-b2/s540x810/8a025f8d600ccda9168228af6d1e104bee0faa61.jpg)
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Pairing: Minnie x Fem!Reader
Idol: Nicha Yontararak
Warning(s): toxicity, possessiveness
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You told yourself this was the last time.
The last time you’d let Minnie crawl her way back into your life, the last time you’d let her name show up on your screen and actually answer, the last time you’d feel her lips on yours, like a brand you could never scrub off.
But then there you were—pressed against the bathroom wall, her hands tangled in your hair, her breath tasting like alcohol and bad decisions.
“Miss me?" She murmured against your lips, her tone teasing, but her grip on you said she already knew the answer.
You should’ve seen it coming. The second you posted that story, the second someone got a little too close, you knew what would happen next. Your phone lit up, FaceTime ringing like a siren. You ignored it. She called again. You ignored that too. But it didn’t matter—Minnie didn’t take silence as an answer.
Across the bar, her gaze burned into you, drink in hand, completely ignoring whatever nonsense her friend was slurring in her ear. She wasn’t listening. She never did when it came to you.
"Yeah… yeah,”she muttered absentmindedly, standing up without another word and her drink completely forgotten. Her eyes never left you as she moved through the crowd, like she was on a mission. Like she was entitled to you.
And maybe she was.
You should’ve walked away when she finally reached you, when she grabbed your wrist and pulled you close enough that her perfume fogged up your thoughts. "Who was that?" She asked, though it wasn’t really a question—it was a test, a demand wrapped in false sweetness.
"Just a friend," you lied, because the truth never mattered to her. She just needed to hear you say it. Minnie hummed, tilting her head. "I don’t think friends would be that comfortable, don’t you think?" You rolled your eyes at her response, attempting to pull away, but her grip only tightened. "We’re not doing this," you said, though your body betrayed you by leaning just a little closer.
"Aren’t we?" She had that signature smirk as her free hand ghosted over your waist. "What can’t we do?" Her free hand lifting up to caress your cheek before a single finger tilted your chin up, forcing you to look her in the eyes.
Before you could respond, the person who had been accompanying you for the night came back to your side with a concerned look. "Everything alright?" They questioned, reaching out to rest a hand on your lower back.
The contact never landed.
Minnie’s grip tightened instantly, yanking you closer to her, her nails digging into your side just enough to make her point clear. Her head tilted slightly, eyes dark and unreadable as she stared at the person beside you.
"Didn’t realize you had company.” Her voice was smooth, too smooth—like she was amused, but the way her fingers flexed against your waist told a different story.
The person beside you hesitated, their hand dropping back to their side. "I—" They opened their mouth to speak but couldn’t get the proper words out, allowing Minnie another response.
“You should probably run along now," Minnie cut in, her smile sharp enough to slice through the tension.
"She’s taken."
Taken. Like she owned you. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free from her grip.
Your companion glanced at you, as if waiting for you to protest. To correct her. To say anything.
You didn’t because what would you tell them?
You knew you weren’t taken, but saying anything other than that—and potentially risking a negative reaction from the woman you so badly craved, whose validation you needed—was not an option you wanted to choose.
You’re addicted to her, the cycle, the toxicity—it was a weight you could never shake off.
So you didn’t say a word. You couldn’t.
And just like that, the person beside you exhaled sharply, shaking their head before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
Minnie hummed in satisfaction, her fingers trailing up to your jaw, tilting your face toward hers.
"See? You don’t need anyone else. Just me."
You should’ve shoved her away. Should’ve told her to leave you alone. Instead, you let her drag you toward the back, past the crowd, past the point of no return.
Now, her lips trailed fire along your skin, hands gripping like she was afraid you'd slip through her fingers. But you never did. You never could. You wouldn’t dare.
"You always do this," you whispered, but the accusation held no weight when your hands were already on her, gripping like you were scared she’d disappear. Minnie smiled, pressing her forehead against yours. The smile wasn’t sweet. It held no warmth. It was sickening.
“And you always let me.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Every time you thought you were done, that she was out of your system, she pulled you back under like a rip current. She had a way of making the whole world blur until she was the only thing in focus. Your obsession grew, slow and suffocating, swallowing everything else whole.
Your mind was hazy, slipping, falling, like the world outside this moment didn’t exist. You could already picture it—hours from now, your apartment door slamming shut behind her, clothes in a heap on the floor, her voice echoing in your head long after she was gone.
She’d leave, eventually. She always did.
And no matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t answer—you always did.
#fem reader#gidle#gidle minnie#minnie imagines#minnie x reader#kpop#kpop girl groups#gidle x reader#gidle imagines#gidle scenarios#siyooungi
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8d692fbb9fd957d55ada160ca69e4458/c632463e8417ff3b-81/s500x750/cb22e59662bd18b7b69bae6d731104dfd38a15f1.jpg)
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☆ about me ☆
hii, i’m bells!
thought it was about time i made an introduction.
i’m 21, a capricorn sun, leo moon, cancer rising (astrology freak), my ethnicity is a little complicated but i’ll put it as half british and half portuguese. i can speak english and portuguese fluently and have a half-decent grasp of spanish. i’ve lived in the uk for most of my life. sexuality: no labels.
i’d say i’m new to tumblr as this is the first time in my life i’m actually using it regularly, i think I’ve got the hang of it now. i feel so at home on here and i love having new mutuals hehe. feel free to message about literally anything (save me from the “singles in your area looking for-” dms, i beg).
☆ interests ☆
i love writing and reading, fanfic, music and film, generally just immersing myself in other worlds tbh. kisses to pinterest, ao3 and wattpad. tumblr now too i guess.
seemingly never ending harry potter obsession. marauders era, hogwarts legacy era, etc. slytherin girly. i was part of hptok at its peak in like 2020/2021, my page was basically dedicated to it. it was so much fun.
also star wars, specifically the hayden christensen trilogy, but i love the ogs too and i thinkmy favourite spin-offs are the mandalorian and obi-wan kenobi. if i ever get married it will be at lake como, idc how many times it's been done. i was at one of the filming locations last summer (theed palace) and almost crying like a little biatch.
i like video games too (mostly play on switch), but i’m very picky when it comes to finding ones i actually like, then I will rack up hours on it like there's no tomorrow… we love hyperfixation over here. love love love stardew valley, animal crossing and games along those lines but atm i’ve been doing my rounds on the resident evil games (re2 og, re4 remake, re6, down bad for leon kennedy) and also hogwarts legacy, i’ve finished most of it, i just have to complete my field guide now (desperately want to replay for the sebastian quests, also the new mod stuff is so cool!).
music wise, i listen to lots of different stuff, constantly go through phases, but for my all timers, aka can quote their discography from start to finish, i’d probably say lana del rey, radiohead, the weeknd and nirvana. recently it’s been lots of david bowie, queen, beabadoobee, portishead, fleetwood mac, the beatles… i could go on.
always open to recommendations for songs, playlists, films, series, games, books, fanfics, or anything, i love it all.
☆ onto the topic of shifting... ☆
i am happy to announce i am free from the shackles of “shift-tok”. if yk, yk.
i’ll take this as a chance to ask nicely for any antis to please, please, not interact from here on out. thank you.
so, i initially found out about shifting on hptok 2020 (huge surprise ik) and so obviously i wanted to go to hogwarts. like??
needless to say i got caught up in all the tiktok misinformation, blatant lies, complicated asf methods, self explanatory. sorry younger-me. i could explain more but all in all i was too impatient and clueless, didn't really know what i was doing at all, eventually got bored, busy with school, and assumed everyone was lying (a few were, it seems).
i completely forgot about it all after that until i came across a shifting post on reddit a few weeks ago. my tiktok fyp started filling with shifting/manifestation videos too right after. i was coincidentally in between a rewatch of the harry potter films at this point too. you know where this is going. i started seeing tiktoks from smaller creators just answering people’s questions about shifting, and it was all so different from all the stuff i’d heard years ago, spoken about in a completely different way, which just made so much sense to me and was so intriguing. i decided to delve into it all once again. it was those same creators who also would mention tumblr, and i, who had just joined tumblr for writing related stuff not long ago, decided to start searching up things related to shifting.
i eventually came across some great accounts and information, stories of experiences, motivation, help. i started reading “journeys out of the body” by robert monroe too, so interesting, btw, and have since began my own shifting/exploring consciousness journey (i try to be careful what words i use for things, for lots of reasons, and i understand everyone might use different terms, reminder that i haven’t been on here for that long). it’s been amazing so far.
(i may have straight up searched shifting realities on google the other day. curiosity got the best of me. it was bad. don’t do it.)
to not mislead anyone, no, i haven’t actually had a full experience in my specific “dr” yet. however it’s only been a small amount of time and i’ve already had lots of different types of sensations and experiences that i’ve never had before and it’s all so beautiful and interesting to me. i definitely view things a lot differently than i did before. i have shiftblr to thank for it.
i adore finding new shifter blogs and reading everything on them, so if i’m giving stalker behaviour it just means i’m loving your stuff or you're all over my feed.
idk what i’m even going to post about yet, if or when i do. maybe i’ll write a bit into my “journey” so far, any experiences or how and what i do to get into certain states, about my dr, or stuff i’m just nerdy about in general.
fyi just because i write does not mean i will always use any grammatical skills at all when writing for blog. sorry ;)
if you ever have any questions i’ll love you forever i will answer as best as i can.
this wasn’t all that exciting but i just wanted a little intro because i’m always blank on my socials.
thanks for reading !!
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ ୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆
#shiftblr#shiftingrealities#reality shifting community#shifting blog#shifting consciousness#shifters#intro post
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Hey, everyone. Making a low activity/weekends only come back. I'm going to redo pages and rules in the meantime.
I wanted to write an apology for anyone who I might have turned off from my blog because I can't hold down a muse to save my life. If you've ever wanted to rp, have rped, or thought about it but decided not to because of constantly losing muse/adding and deleting characters, that's okay. I understand. It's frustrating. I can only write for a fandom for a month at most before I can't anymore and it's becoming a trend
If that isn't your cup of tea, don't feel bad about not writing with me. Never feel bad. I want YOU to be having fun. Never write out of obligation. Write what you want when you want to with who you want to. And have fun
I wanted to address this behavior before I started again because I know it's something I want to work on, so I never leave anyone hanging
Anyway. Seeya soon
♡ Andy
#( out of character. )#( no making a new blog we stay here folks#i have muse for luigi but specifically from the super mario bros super show )#i didn't really have a point going into this )#( except that if you dont want to write with me its okay. i know my behavior can be frustrating so#( never feel bad#( also anyone who can keep a muse for months. or years. i admire you#( my brain doesn't work like that anymore i guess?#( and i dont want this to be a woe is me i want this to be genuine so i hope it came across that way#( bottom line. you do you. have fun. i love writing with you or talking to you#( i appreciate every one of you
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the downside to being a sitcom neighbour sort of person is that when rough things happen and emotionally fuck u up a lil bit, it also sounds completely made up
#bert's dead dad tag#found out today the way my dad told mom he wanted a divorce?#he wrote her a letter and left it on the dining room table for her to find on the morning of her fortieth birthday#who the fuck does that dead father#like that is the sort of thing i would entirely make up if i needed everyone at the table to fuckin hate an npc#and at least one person would go 'you're laying it on a little bit heavy'#i know he did work to become a better person as he got older#which is good because BOY howdy was that man a piece of shit in the early 90s#and we are having Complicated feelings about it tonight and also for the last nine months#something something when i was writing his eulogy i came across an old article discussing something he did in the 90s#YDIP (your dad is problematic)#like yeah this is the sort of thing that would have been vaguely acceptable in the cultural context#but like. still objectively bad. potentially ruining several lives sort of bad.#learned this and then wrote the rest of his eulogy about how he was a great guy and how i'm lucky to have been his son#(which was rough enough on its own because i've never said 'i'm [dad's name]'s son' as many times as i did that trip home)#but like what else do you do? i sent off a message looking for more information#and that information if it comes is just gonna sit with me i guess#sure as hell not telling my sister and this whole thing i've been getting through without really having anyone here for me to talk to#(hence the big fuckoff tag rant. your problem now losers who like clicking the read more button)#so even if i get all the answers i want about this one thing it's not gonna do any good except putting an end to one question#but part of having a dead dad who's been out of the business of forming new memories since you came out is having more questions#answering this one's just gonna add even more questions to the pile#but. got fuckall else to do
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I am a lesbian and I came across Lostryu’s post by way of a mutual of mine. I was curious and wanted to see your response. I have to say your rebuttal contains nothing of merit that could possibly fare as a proper argument. It’s chock full of contradictory statements and straight up lies. I am assuming you’re a USA resident, but the highest university with an LGBT+ population is Brown Univeristy; and only about 20-24% of people reported being LGBT+
As a fellow english major, it was painful to read. Constant contradiction with only half formed ideas; practically agreeing with Lostryu regarding the definition of lesbian only to backpedal…. And words do have meaning, that’s why we use them in our craft as wordsmiths. You can’t simply replace keywords with opposite definitions and expect your manuscript to make sense!
I also want to point out that you degendered Lostryu entirely, refusing to use correct pronouns. That in and of itself is very transphobic. I don’t really trust your judgment as it seems like you didn’t even care about reblogging from lesbian and transgender rape apologists.
I thought you might like to reflect on this, but I truly think you care more about your self-perceived moral superiority rather than actual people.
-🧁
Oh boy. Ok.
Well thanks for being so kind and civil and not attacking my character.
I know you don't trust me, but you gotta trust that a queerer school than Brown exists and I go to it. I can see where the confusion is, after doing a google search myself, because my school is pretty small and doesn't show up on a lot of searches for colleges in the US. I will give you that, after looking up the number myself, it's more like 50-70%, but I will tell you that less than a quarter of the people I know and talk to on a regular basis are straight and cisgender.
I'm not writing an english essay here, it's a tumblr post. If anything, this is a lot closer to how I would format a philosophy paper, which, if you've ever read one of those, are very rambly and have roundabout ways of getting to the point. Also, again, thanks for not attacking my character, here. Thanks for really respecting me and not discrediting my nearly completed degree. Really appreciate that.
I... have no words. I used they/them/theirs pronouns throughout the whole post, which, I cannot stress enough, are NEUTRAL pronouns. I use those pronouns for all people online, and I think most other people do too. Yes, I knew he used he/him and used they/them instead, but I also cut his username out of all my screenshots. I wasn't talking about him specifically, his post was just an excuse for me to explain a concept in depth, and explain why exclusionism such as what he was promoting is detrimental to the queer community as a whole.
I didn't include his username or @ him at all. It wasn't even meant for him to look at, really. He was an example, a nebulous person with an opinion I don't agree with. It wasn't personal, so I used neutral pronouns. I am really sorry it came across that way though, I never want to make anyone uncomfortable and I know pronouns are super important to pay attention to for some people. This is an actual sincere apology.
I don't think I'm morally superior, that's not the point. I don't argue with people on the internet in order to prove my opinions are right and that anyone else with different opinions has made a wrong and evil choice and is unredeemable as a person. Really this whole thing happened because the original post had some terfy red flags and even though op isn't a terf, I wanted to point it out so that people know how to spot it and avoid it.
And do I think it's bad for the community to exclude mspec lesbians? Yes, but I also understand where the frustration comes from. I don't think less of people who have that opinion, I just hope to change their minds, because I think a radically inclusive community is the best kind of community.
#god this post got long#i just. this whole exchange just makes me sad because theyre not even terfs#we actually have mostly the same opinions save for this one#his blog is pretty cool aside from the exclusionary stuff#but he and his followers dont want to try and understand where im coming from which is to be expected on the internet but still disappointi#oh well. i hope anyone who has been following this whole exchange got something valuable out of it#i almost didnt reply to this last anon but i did think it was important specifically to clarify the pronoun thing#i do feel really bad that it came across that way and it was never my intention#queer#genderqueer#labels#identity#cloudy rambles
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bad dating stories time: the shoe incident
so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.
at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.
he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?
and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.
but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.
i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?
(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)
and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.
i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.
that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.
i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.
anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.
i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.
we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.
he was okay at it.
eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.
soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.
realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:
"i can't get pregnant"
which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.
still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"
and then i was in my car, and i drove away.
if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.
and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.
WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.
we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.
do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.
and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.
then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.
and then they started making out.
i was close enough to hear it.
i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.
so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.
now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.
so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.
about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.
my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.
my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.
they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?
and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.
#dating stories#anecdotes#long post#funny story#babylon#im really bad at dating#like i can do a lot better than this but also it just was kind of a nightmare for me#shit like this did make the whole thing easier tho#like#every date after this i could go you know ive seen how bad it can get#and i lived#didnt even get shot#writing
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Alright. I'm calling it done before it kills me. This is Second Head. It's an Art Book containing instances of the phrase "second head" in fanfics found on AO3. I'll explain much, MUCH more in the cut.
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So when I say 'art book', I mean this is an intrinsic piece. I have no motivations aside from personal amusement and interest in outcome. A lot of money was lost/transmuted into free frustration in this project and I have no claims, obviously. I will prolly be the only person alive to read this.
THAT SAID. I have noticed in my years reading fanfic, there's a few linguistic shibboleths that arise in authors who also have experience in the mines. I think there's not a soul alive who hadn't wandered across a 'ministrations' when reading Narutos oral sexing. There's- Hold on. Here's some pix.
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There's an impulse, I think, to in-group even when performing a creative act. A feeling that there are certain ways one Should go about the act, by virtue of seeing it performed that way. Especially so when 'training' at the act is often just Doing. Double Dog Especially when the act is exclusively for oneself with very little oversight. Which is to say, we make what we see and we make what we think we should make. At least, at first.
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Now, I've been noticing 'grew a second head' (to insinuate surprise) in fanfic for some time. I've never seen it used Outside of fanfic. (Edit to add: I am not making the argument the phrase is from fanfic. Nor do I Believe it is from fanfic. Jesus Hopping Christ, people. That's not what this project is about.) That may speak to my own bad habits but it got me curious. So a friend and myself downloaded a mirror of AO3 from July of 2024. He did some code- Stuff to scan the mirror for "second head" and of the ~13 million works, ~70k (English) results were returned. That's a rounding error, honestly, but Far FAR more than I expected.
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This book is 401 such examples that I personally selected for a variety of reasons. The number itself was arbitrarily chosen. Each page is separate fic, the roughly 300 words around our key phrase.
I don't think repetition or mirroring is a negative thing. I think it's quite charming. Nor do I think it's a sign of a 'bad' artist or 'bad' art. I think it's a signifier of personhood, of belonging, of enthusiasm. Of culture shared and wishing to share. I think it's real sweet. I always smile when I catch a 'grown a second head' in a work.
And it's really fucking funny when it's John Sherlock getting a sloppy toppy. Bless.
Edit: Fixed a very VERY funny error.
Edit: I am not making the argument that the phrase is exclusive to fanfic or, fucking forbid, FROM fanfic. I'm stating this Again because we skim here. Also- If you would like slamdunk my ass by stating the phrase predates the Internet or your GenX parents use it, please use 'sailboat' in your comment so I know you're specifically trying to kill me.
Edit Edit: You know what? Fine. I DO think this phrase came from fandom. I think ENGLISH came from fandom. I think YOU came from fandom. I think EVERYTHING came from fandom. The Sun, the Moon, the Seas- Fandom. Specifically Sonic Mpreg. The second head was Shadow the Hedgehog crowning. Congrats!
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Yandere Yakuza
When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k
When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.
He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.
You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.
But then he showed up.
Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.
You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.
"Relax, I know these guys."
Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.
Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.
"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"
Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.
"Came to collect what he owes us."
Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?
Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.
"How much does he owe?"
"Sis really I can-"
Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!
Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.
"How much do you need tonight?"
The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.
You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.
"Let's go then."
When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?
You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.
The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.
"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"
"We'll talk about it later, ok?"
Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.
When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.
"You got a boyfriend?"
You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.
"No. I don't."
He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.
"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."
"Why not?"
The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.
He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.
"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."
"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."
"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"
He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.
He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.
"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."
You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?
He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"
You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"
He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."
You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?
You take the card.
"Iiko [good girl]."
He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."
He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.
You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.
"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"
"I was drunk, okay?"
You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.
His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?
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The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.
He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.
It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.
Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.
He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."
He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."
You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.
"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"
He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."
"Perv," you mutter into your drink.
On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.
But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.
"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."
You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"
Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."
When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.
A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.
But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"
"No."
"Then no."
He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.
He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."
When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?
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Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.
"Let me teach you Japanese."
You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.
"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."
You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.
"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."
"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."
He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.
"What does it mean?"
"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."
He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.
Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.
"Say goodbye like I taught you."
"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."
He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."
You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.
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Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.
He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.
"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."
When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.
"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"
He flops down into your lap before you can say no.
You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.
Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.
There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.
He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.
"Go on a date with me."
You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.
And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.
"Okay."
His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.
"Good. You'll like it."
By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.
But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.
"My brother's landlord-"
Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.
His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.
He looks good. Dangerously good.
He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.
You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."
He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"
He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.
He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.
"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.
"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."
"Explains why you asked me out then."
"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"
"I'm your girl? Since when?"
"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."
Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.
You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.
"You had fun tonight?"
"Yes. More than I expected honestly."
He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.
"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."
You clasp your hands together behind his neck.
"You liar."
He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.
Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.
His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.
You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.
When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.
He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.
"How much for tonight?"
"What?"
His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.
"How much to take you home?"
A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.
God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?
And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?
"Are you serious?"
"Obviously. How much do you charge?"
You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.
The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.
He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.
Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.
Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.
"I'm not for sale."
The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.
"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."
The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.
He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.
When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.
"I can't buy you."
"No."
"But I want you."
You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."
You shut the door without turning back.
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He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?
But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.
When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.
You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?
Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.
"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."
You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"
He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."
"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."
He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."
That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.
"So why not just pay someone else?"
You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?
"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."
A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.
Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?
And yet...
You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.
And still you want him.
You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."
He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.
"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."
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You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.
You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."
"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."
You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."
He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."
"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."
He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."
You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.
"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.
He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."
"But I am?"
"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.
"Tell me a secret about yourself."
It's his turn to study you. "A secret."
"That's what I said."
He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.
You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.
But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.
He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.
"It's incredible."
He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.
He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.
"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."
You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"
He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."
You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."
"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."
You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.
You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.
Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.
"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."
He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.
"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."
He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.
"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."
The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."
The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#reader insert#x reader#yandere oc#male yandere#yandere oc x you#Yandere yakuza
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I remember how I used to read tumblr and the more angry and disillusioned someone seemed with society and life, the more valid I thought their point of view was. This is now mostly no longer the case, but when I'm depressed I think I still go there.
#i think there was a lot of 'you personally must do something to fix this vast societal problem!!!'#and also 'your personal self and identity is personally dangerous is me as a marginilised person'#'your words are violence and your presence itself is violence'- these messages i really loved as a kind of emotional self harm#i wasn't used to having my own identity because my abuser never let me have one so the idea of me having one being somehow oppressive#and therefore the idea of me not having one must be good and was helping somehow#and that's why i was closeted for so long- well that and living in my parents' house till my mid-20s i guess#now i realise that the idea i had that my shit feelings helped marginlised people somehow came from my church growing up#suffering is good...but actually me suffering is neutral and feeling like shit is neutral to the world at large#me feeling bad doesn't help others. i liked to pretend it did because i had to justify my existence to myself#as a privileged person but now i realise i also have to live my life because that's all we get! Just the one!#and there's only one way out of doing it and the fact that i was even contemplating that showed how extreme this was all getting#i HAVE to live and i have to understand myself and keep going#and not give up and say 'everything is so shit and as a privileged person i only make things worse so what's the point of doing anything?'#i think a lot of social justice at one point had unintentionally gotten across the idea of 'if you try you will only make things worse#so don't even try'.#i think a lot of people writing back then were having really difficult times and had genuinely difficult lives and i hugely sympathise#i hope all of them are doing really well in 2024 and are living securely and have happiness and joy
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A bunny breeding his pup
Commissioned by @dumbdoggygirl
Bunny Hybrid x Puppy Hybrid!Reader
warnings: breeding, knotting, pregnancy sex, pheromones, lactation, cervix kiss
summary: Bunny hybrid Momo stands up to a wolf hybrid and walks you home. The two of you become friends then start dating, but when you go into heat you’re afraid he might not be able to keep up with your puppy hybrid stamina. Little did you know, the saying “breeding like rabbits” was very accurate…
Word count: 5k words
You have had trouble trusting people lately. Male hybrids only wanted one thing, and that was mating.
The thought was always in the back of your mind when you went out into town or wandered back home a bit too late at night. If you didn’t keep yourself safe, no one would.
This was all before you met him.
It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to pick up something sweet before going home to your little cottage in the woods. It was always a bit scary coming home from work, especially when the moon wasn’t able to guide your way due to the fluffy clouds blocking it.
You were planning on plopping down on your soft, warm bed and passing out as soon as you walked in your door… but fate had something else in mind.
“Hey, pretty girl!”
An annoyed sigh left your lips as you turned to look to your left. There was a wolf hybrid approaching, his shoulders relaxed and his stride confident.
“You look like you’d appreciate someone walking you home. There’s a lotta bad guys out here, you know?”
His arm wrapped around your shoulder roughly, causing you to stumble forward before you steadied yourself.
You, politely as you could manage, pushed his arm off of your shoulder, trying to give him a smile. “Ahh, I’m okay, but thanks.”
When he kept following you, your heart began to race. You could feel his eyes on you, and knew he saw you as something to prey on, a slab of meat to a hungry predator.
“Come on, pup. You’re gonna turn down a nice guy trying to help you out. Don’t be a bitch…”
He attempted to reach for your wrist, but you wrenched it away. “I said I’m okay… please, just leave me alone…”
This only seemed to anger him, the wolf puffing out his chest as his ears pinned back. A low growl could be heard as he advanced on you.
“Leave you alone? I-“
Before he could speak any further, a figure rushed between the two of you, standing with his back to the wolf.
“Hey, sweetheart. I saw that you weren’t home yet and came to meet you halfway. All our friends are waiting for us, I said we’d be back in five minutes.”
The person in front of you was a bunny hybrid with soft, curly hair and fluffy bunny ears atop his head. He gave you a sweet smile as if he had known you his entire life and looped his arm with yours.
“Ahh, do you know this man?” the bunny hybrid asked, his eyes cutting to the wolf hybrid, his yellow orbs losing all the warmth they had when he looked at you.
The wolf spluttered, holding up his hands, obviously turned off when he heard there were people looking for you. “W-was just gonna walk her home. Never mind…”
The bunny hybrid stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving the wolf as he scurried away.
“Damn wolf hybrids think that they can scare people like that, but the second they know they could be caught they run off!”
The bunny’s foot thumped against the ground rapidly, indicating he was pissed at the situation. You smiled, reaching out to tug on his sleeve.
“Thank you for that. Most hybrids would be too scared to stand up to a wolf like you did.”
He turned back to look at you, a smile stretching across his face. When you really looked at him, your first thought was that he looked… really cute.
“No problem. Are you alright?”
His cotton tail twitched as your puppy tail perked up. “Yes, I’m okay. Just…”
You winced, and he noticed your wrist that had been grabbed was a bit swollen.
“Ahh, that asshole… if you put some ice on it when you get home, that should help with the swelling and hopefully prevent a bruise from forming.”
The bunny tilted his head as your ears lowered, your tail wagging a bit. “Can I… ask your name?”
His ears flicked as he nodded rapidly. “Yes, I’m Momo. And you?”
You smiled, offering a hand. “I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”
Momo ended up walking you home, making sure that he kept you safe from anything that dared to come close. For a bunny hybrid, he was quite tough.
And as far as males went, he was the sweetest thing you’d ever encountered. To no one’s surprise, you were quick to exchange numbers with him.
The two of you became friends rather quickly. It wasn’t until long that you found out Momo was single, just like you. He was so soft and sweet, and every morning you received a text asking how you were doing and if he could come over when you weren’t busy.
It made your heart beat faster, a fuzzy feeling taking over your body that made your tail wag uncontrollably…
Was this… what having a crush was like?
You met up with him one afternoon, wearing your favorite dress, one he had said made your eyes sparkle. Momo always knew how to make you feel shy and flattered.
“Hey, pretty pup!”
You turned at the sound of his voice, your tail wagging as soon as you caught a whiff of his scent. His own cotton tail twitched, a smile lighting up his face.
“Hi, Momo. What did you want to talk about?”
The bunny had called you a few hours ago, asking for a last minute meeting at a cafe. This was strange to you, he usually asked to come to your home or his to spend time together. You had only known him for a few months now, but you felt like you knew him enough to tell something was different about this.
Momo scratched the back of his head, his fluffy bunny ears twitching. “Well… I thought a public place would be better for the question I want to ask.”
Your curiosity was piqued, and it was obvious by the way your tail picked up speed that you were excited. “Well come on, let’s order some coffee and talk!”
After settling into a booth and some small talk, Momo suddenly became very serious, looking at you fondly.
“I’ve… really enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together.”
Your cheeks heated up, and you found yourself fidgeting with your skirt. “I have too. It’s really been the best part of my day when you call me.”
His bunny ears twitched, his hand reaching out to hold yours.
“Will… you be my girlfriend?”
Your eyes widened with surprise, your heart thundering inside of your chest as your tail wagged furiously behind you. It was obvious how you felt just by the way your tail thumped against the booth behind you.
“Y-yes!”
The two of you shared bashful smiles, and he nuzzled his nose against yours. The rest of the date was filled with giddy giggles and yummy snacks, and by the end he was ready to take you home.
For the next few months, the two of you fell in love, unable to stay apart from each other for long. He visited you often, his soft bunny ears making him easy to spot in crowds when meeting up together.
It didn’t take long for you two to kiss for the first time. It was on your third date, and seeing his cute cotton tail twitch when your lips met was the cutest thing you had ever seen.
The first bit of intimacy the two of you shared was while the two of you watched a movie together at your apartment. It was a sappy romcom, and he was feeling a bit bored… so his hand trailed down your thigh, playing with the fabric of your sleep shorts.
“Mmm, you keep watching the movie, princess…”
Your puppy tail wagged a bit as he moved to kneel in front of you, his soft nose nuzzling against your thigh. He looked up at you for permission, his teeth nibbling on your soft flesh.
This was the first time a male had ever been so close to you, but you nodded, trying to pay attention to the movie while he kissed your pussy through your panties.
It wasn’t long before you were soaking through the thin fabric, unable to concentrate on the movie anymore. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your slick and sucking on your clit through your panties was too loud, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“P-Please, Momo… more, I need it…”
He tilted his head, looking up at you through his soft lashes. “More..? Okay, puppy…”
Momo pushed your panties to the side, giving your bare pussy a sniff before burying his face between your thighs.
You let out a muffled moan, covering your mouth as he latched onto your clit, sucking and keeping your thighs apart so he could taste your sweet juices.
The way he looked up at you with those sweet golden, yellow eyes of his with such lust and adoration had you cumming within seconds.
He stayed between your head like that for at least 30 minutes, bringing you to orgasm several times before you were too blissed out to even think.
Momo smiled, his cotton tail wagging as he crawled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over the two of you and pulling you to his chest.
“Goodnight, puppy…”
——————————
You felt embarrassed, almost… shy. Your heat cycle was coming, and you had a date with Momo. It was going to be your 6 month anniversary, and you really didn’t want to miss it!
But…
Although Momo had saved you and was so sweet to you, there was always a voice in the back of your head saying he would never be able to handle your heat. He was just a bunny hybrid, and you were a puppy.
It made you sad, really… would you have to break up with him one day and be with someone with a similar heat cycle to you? Maybe a wolf or puppy hybrid…
As the date approached, you told yourself that you would just go… but when it was finally time to get dressed, your heat hit you like a tsunami.
You writhed on the bed, fingers doing nothing to ease the ache in your cunt. It took everything you had to text Momo that you couldn’t come. You didn’t bother to read his reply, just turning onto your belly, lifting your hips to try and shove your fingers deeper inside.
It felt like you could just burn alive, a pit in the bottom of your belly forming. It had never been so intense before, all you wanted to do was scream! Maybe your body was reacting to Momo’s scent. It was all over your apartment after all, and you buried your face into a hoodie he left behind, whimpering in absolute agony.
Your heats had never been easy, but in the past at least you had been able to deal with them without too much struggle. Now it felt impossible, you couldn’t even orgasm by yourself!
As you began to cry into his hoodie, you thought you could almost hear his voice. Your mind was a bit hazy from your heat… but it felt comforting.
You wish you would have just asked him to come over… now you were too weak to do anything besides sniffle and cry into his hoodie.
“Puppy!”
The sound of Momo’s voice became much clearer. Your puppy ear twitched, and you picked up his scent in the air. That wasn’t just some of his lingering musk…
“Puppy, I’m here! Please, let me in. I n-need you!”
You could only whimper, blabbering out a reply through your tears. “C-can’t! Can’t get up!”
It was silent for a moment, but then there was a loud BANG!
You looked on in shock to see the door beginning to splinter. Momo was breaking it down!
Momo wasn’t weak, but you had never thought he was capable of such feats of strength! Even the wolf hybrids you met in college wouldn’t be able to do that…
He kicked through, his leg breaking through the wood. He used the hole to reach his hand in and unlock the door. As soon as Momo was in, his eyes scanned the room for you.
“Baby…”
He walked over, dropping down to his knees by your bedside. His eyes scanned over your form, and you noticed how hazy those golden orbs of his were as he sniffed the air.
“You’re in heat… why didn’t you tell me?”
You struggled to speak, your pussy clenching around nothing as he stared down at you. The way he was looking at you… was he..?
“I w-was… embarrassed… and I didn’t want you to know. You’ve probably never been with a puppy hybrid before, you don’t understand how intense our heats are…”
You had heard tales from friends and family about how smaller hybrids would try and take on canines, seeing it as a challenge. They assumed they could take it, and would come out with good offspring because of the strong wombs of their mates.
But most failed to properly satisfy their mates, ending in unhappy partnerships and tears. You had been hoping to marry Momo, but you were afraid he may also be chasing some tail…
He was kind, you really liked him… but could he handle you like this? You were so desperate, you wanted to pounce and use him until his body broke! It was scary… you were losing the little control you had over your body!
Before you could speak again, you helped, feeling him pin you down with strength you would have never expected from such a small hybrid. He leaned over you, his face flushed but his eyes sharp.
“Oh, my sweet pup…”
He cooed, his pants stretching painfully over his aching cock. Precum leaked down his leg, his red cock barely contained by his pants.
“You’ve never been with a bunny hybrid, have you?”
Your eyes widened, and you were silenced when his mouth landed on yours. It was an instant connection, your tail wagging furiously as his tongue tangled around yours.
Though your cunt pulsed and ached with need and lust, your heart was soaring with love. His lips on yours always made you happy, but now you could almost feel his love and desire from you just from this kiss alone.
“Y-you’re… in rut?”
You gasped this out when he broke away, finally able to pick up his scent over your own heavy pheromones. Momo smiled, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “Yes… I am. I was hoping to spend it with you… if that’s alright.”
Your ears lowered and you tucked your puppy tail between your legs, considering his suggestion. Part of you wanted to say no, fearful that you may hurt him. You loved Momo after all, and would rather have an agonizingly painful heat cycle than lose him.
But the other part of you needed him. You could already feel his clothed cock rubbing against your fat cunt, begging to breed and mate with you. Your heat riddled mind was begging for you to say yes and mate, to be filled with cum and covered in his marks!
“Please…”
You looked up at him with hazy, teary eyes, playing with your own pussy to try and ease the searing heat in your loins. The only thing on your mind now was being bred by your lover and your belly swelling with his young. It’s all you could ever want or need.
Momo panted, his bunny ears twitching as he tugged his pants down, his fat red cock resting on your belly. He was much bigger than you expected, and your pussy yet again clenched around nothing while you imagined him inside of you.
“Gonna be inside my puppy…”
He prodded at your cunt, rubbing his precum and your slick together before pressing in. Momo hissed at how tight you were, his soft pink nose twitching as your sweet, warm pussy envelopes around him.
It was like heaven, being inside of you. Nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss of mounting his pretty little puppy and taking your for his own.
Without much thought, be bit down on your neck and shoulders, his hips rutting into yours. You were so wet, so needy for him that he started thrusting right away. The sounds that came from your love making was lewd, loud squelching and moans filling the air.
Before long you were cumming, your cunt squeezing and milking his cock, but even as he filled you up with his seed, he didn’t stop.
After a few rounds you began to get tired, happy that he was able to last…
But Momo was far from finished.
You whined softly as he lifted your leg, continuing to fuck into your fat, warm cunt as his fingers played with your clit. Your neck was covered in hickeys, your chubby tummy protruding with his cum…
“M-Momo…”
You whimpered, your pussy swollen from abuse, but your lover only kissed along your neck, placing you on your tummy before climbing back up to mount you.
“Shh, puppy… not even close to being done…”
You yelped as he held onto your arms for leverage, his cock kissing your cervix as he fucked you deep. Your own fingers could never reach that far, and you knew Momo was trying to get you pregnant!
The only thing on his mind right now was his vision of you in a few months. You’d be waddling around, your breasts heavy with milk and belly swollen with his babies. Even since he laid eyes on you, he knew that he would be the one to breed you, to lay claim to your womb. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone in the world knew this fact.
He grabbed your tail, holding onto it as he knotted your sweet, warm pussy. You were just too cute, crying and overstimulated. Momo couldn’t wait to make you cum so much you couldn’t even think anymore!
Even after his knot swelled up inside of you, his hips continued to stutter and plap against your fat ass. He just couldn’t help it, you felt too good and he wanted to fuck you on his knot!
Your body felt so warm and exhausted, you could barely manage to lift your fluffy tail to give him access to your abused cunt so he could continue to pump you full of his cum.
Momo was too far into his rut to notice your exhaustion. His body was reacting to your pheromones and he was driven by pure instinct to knock you up.
He bit down on your neck, holding onto your hips as his knot deflated. The second he was able to properly fuck you again, Momo slammed his cock into you, kissing your cervix.
The night of mating was filled with tears, whines, and so, so much cum. You had never as tired as you were the next morning, your body covered in love bites and stuffed full of cum.
Momo was already awake, his cotton tail wagging as he played with your soft puppy ears. “Good morning, princess…”
He looked down at you, his cheeks pink and his eyes darting from your face to the side then back to you. With the way he had fucked you until you saw stars and cried, he was a bit embarrassed with how fat he had gone.
The bunny could remember knotting you several times, just to continue fucking you the second it deflated enough so he could move.
You whined as you turned to snuggle into your mate, burying your face into his neck. “Mmph… you really wanna give me a litter?”
His heart thumped against his chest so hard you were sure you could feel it. “Yes… I… I love you, (Name). I want to be with you, and make you a mother…”
You touched your nose to his, both of you letting off soft purrs and happy sounds as you spent the morning tangled together in an intimate embrace.
From a young age you had been taught that bunny hybrids were quite fertile. Even when mating with other species, it was almost guaranteed that with just one sexual encounter, pregnancy would be in your future.
And that information had been completely correct.
Momo was absolutely thrilled when he began smelling pregnancy hormones on you, and from then on he became insanely protective and touchy.
Watching your belly begin to grow made him… feel many things. It was physical evidence of the love you two shared, the intimacy and touch that created life within his beloved mate.
As your pregnancy progressed, he caught himself getting hard and horny every time he watched you go up a size in your pants or shirts, or when you had to stop wearing bras because your tits were too heavy and full of milk.
Getting to witness you in the morning when you leaked through your shirt and seeing your cute flustered face as he lifted the soiled fabric and lapped at your darkened nipples… it was pure bliss for him.
Sucking and nipping softly at your sensitive buds allowed the milk to flow, filling his mouth with that tasty, creamy liquid he had come to crave.
Momo could feel his cock hardening, and he felt almost shy. Just as your own body had been becoming sensitive and needy through your pregnancy, his was responding to yours.
When you whined and tugged at his pants, he sighed. “Puppy, I’m not sure if it’s safe for us to mate when you’re this far along… your belly is heavy and swollen, I don’t wanna hurt our kits…”
You pouted at him, puffing out your chubby cheeks at his hesitation. While he was so close, you could feel your body aching to mate with him. Momo’s scent made you feel so hot and bothered, if he didn’t fuck you soon you’d go crazy!
That’s when an idea came to your mind. Momo wasn’t exactly hard to seduce. In fact, he was usually more horny than you most days, much needier as well. If you played your cards right, he might not be able to help himself.
“Baby…”
You opened your legs a little, letting him get a whiff of your arousal. The mix of that and your pregnancy pheromones made his body tremble.
“Yes, my love..?”
You leaned forward, pouting as you nuzzled your face into his neck, rubbing your scent on him. “Can you please take care of me? I need you…”
That was his tipping point. How in the hell was he supposed to just sit by when his beloved mate was desperate for release?
‘Just have to be gentle…’ he thought as he lowered you onto the bed and rubbed his throbbing bulge against your clothed cunt.
The feeling of your soaked panties pressing against his hard on was enough to make him hiss out in a mix of pleasure and need. Momo wanted to be inside of his mate more than anything.
“Momo… please!”
You struggled to move your hips against his with your baby bump in the way. His hand settled over your swollen belly, keeping you in place. It made his heart and sick throb thinking about how he had put kits into that round belly of yours.
“Don’t worry, puppy. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise…”
He pulled your panties off before lifting your shirt, his eyes on those perky, darkened nipples of yours. Once you were bare, his hands explored your body in a reverent way.
The changes you were going through were because of him. He had bred his sweet pup, leaving you pregnant and heavy with his kits.
“You’re beautiful…”
His fat cock rubbed against your clit, and he lined up his lips with your nipple. Milk was already beading at your perky bud. Your breasts were heavy and swollen, something you had been complaining about earlier.
Momo was going to kill two birds with one stone. He would satisfy you sexually and milk your fat tits.
His cock pressed into you, almost agonizingly slow. Momo was being as gentle as possible, sinking into his gravid little mate while his tongue lapped up the milk bearding to the surface of your nipple.
“So good… like honey…”
You arched your back, whining and struggling to take his cock while you were so heavily pregnant. You felt stuffed full… in the best way.
“M-Momo… faster…”
His bunny ears flicked, his eyes half lidded as he struggled to keep himself from pounding you into the mattress.
Your puppy cunt was just so tight and you were begging for him… Momo wanted to go faster, to feel your spongy walls tighten around his knot.
But he continued to fuck you at an agonizing pace, making your puppy tail wag. He loves you so much, he didn’t want to hurt his precious mate!
It was when your milk spurted into his mouth when he hit that special spot that he lost a bit of control. His cotton tail began to wag with yours as his thrusts sped up, his hips rutting against you.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
You let out a whine as Momo lifted your leg, pressing it against your pregnant belly so he fuck you deeper. Every time his cock hit your g-spot your milk spurted out again. His hand squeezed and teased your other breast.
The sight of your milk spraying out of your nipple in little streams made him go crazy. He began fucking you like an animal, his mind gone. All that he could think was that he wanted to breed you, to stuff you full of his cum again.
He couldn’t remember you were already pregnant, he was trying to knock you up again!
“Momo, g-gonna-!”
Your puppy cunt clenched around him, causing Momo to grunt and grab hold of your fat hips. He was frustrated, it was already hard enough to fuck you with your pregnant belly in the way, now you were clenching around him and preventing him from being able to move.
Suddenly you were on your side, a pillow propping up your belly as your mate crawled behind you. His arm snakes under your side, grabbing onto your fat tit and groping it as his cock sunk into your again.
“F-fuck, you’re perfect…”
He lifted your leg, now able to fuck into you as deep as he wanted, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.
Now he could properly please his mate and satisfy his need to breed you and unleash his seed into your womb.
Momo nipped at your neck, your tail brushing against his chest as he milked you. You felt sticky and warm, milk running down your chest and pregnant belly.
He could feel his knot beginning to swell, he was going to cum soon!
“Puppy… fuck, I love you so much…”
The feeling of your fat pussy being stretched so his knot could fit had you cumming again, and his cum spurted into your puppy cunt.
The two of you were left a panting mess, tails wagging and ears twitching as you came down from your respective highs.
Momo looked at his mate, his cheeks red and heart full of love. You looked beautiful like this, flushed from sex and pregnant with his kits.
He kissed the top of your head, nuzzling his face against your hair as the two of you waited for his knot to deflate.
“Did I satisfy you, pup? Seems like you’re pretty happy to me…”
You smiled, your body heavy with exhaustion. It took great effort to lift your arm and cup his cheek.
“You always do… my mate always takes care of me.”
You both shared a kiss, tails wagging in sync.
Two months later, Momo held your hand as you gave birth. It was a difficult process, but in the end you were able to give birth to 5 happy babies. Some had fluffy little bunny ears and cotton tails like their father, while others looked like you.
“Mmm, it seems like they like you.”
You smiled, watching as your mate helped you hold onto your little ones. He was easily able to soothe them as they fussed, it was clear they already knew who their father was.
Momo sat at your bedside, his cotton tail wagging excitedly while he watched you breastfeed the kits ans pups for the first time.
“They’re hungry little things…”
His mouth was watering, and once all of them were fed, you lifted your shirt up and smiled. “C’mon, it’s Papa’s turn.”
He nearly knocked over his chair rushing to join you in the hospital bed, making sure to keep his weight off of you as he settled and latched onto your breast.
Momo looked up at you with those golden eyes, and you gently scratched behind his fluffy ears. “Mmm, my big baby.”
He yelped and turned red when you slipped your hand into his pants, jerking him off. You knew that he got hard while drinking your milk, and you just loved toying with your cute mate.
“P-puppy, what if the nurse comes in-“
You continued you pump his cock, making him moan against your breast. “Shh… just lemme make you feel good…”
He stared up at you, nipping on your perky bud. “I’m going to get you back your this, pup.”
“Mmm, I know…”
It didn’t take much to make him knot your hand, his hips bucking as he groaned, cum staining his pants. “Maybe I wanna rile you up for later…”
Momo gave you a lazy smile, his eyes hazy from pleasure. “Someone wants me to knock her up again…”
“As soon as I’m recovered… I’m all yours. Promise you’ll take care of me during my next heat?”
“And every single one after that. We’re bonded, pup. I’m yours… forever.”
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