#i feel i say these things a lot but never enough

[reshinless]

10 minutes. a drabble of fingering ++ dry humping (and a bit of eating you out) w/ spiderman!kinich in his suit.

spiderman!kinich who gets easily stressed, the pressure of being a superhero all kinds of people look up to get to him easily surprisingly for a guy who's usually stoic all the time, not caring for anyone outside of his little circle of friends.

but spiderman!kinich misses you while at work, even on the job when there's no villain in sight, or simply waiting on the criminal for let's say 30-ish minutes or so- he'll swing by the shared apartment you both share.

spiderman!kinich accidentally lets out his anger on you, but quickly being interrupted by a kiss (from you). you knew he'd never tell you these things, he barely opened up about himself back when you two first met, and now that he loved you, you knew he wouldn't throw this away unless emotions took the best of him.

spiderman!kinich who just as easily returns the kiss to you, it was clear when his tongue spoke for him- he was hungry. almost as if he planned for this to happen.

spiderman!kinich suddenly pins you down to the couch, your head on the armrest of it as he kisses down your nape, caressing your cheek with his gloved hand. going as far as to kiss down to your stomach, about to strip you of your pants until you quickly informed him you'd be in an interview soon enough.

spiderman!kinich had no problem straddling you on his lap, laying down on the armrest instead, using your clothed cunt to rub against his 'stress boner' (or whatever he calls it).

it was just that little push, and now he didn't have to do much. letting you do all the work; watching you squirm, and pushing yourself into his dick, but when you get tired.. he'll use the strength in his palms to make sure you both finish into your clothing <3

but that's a last resort. he talks you through it anyway.

"mhm, that's my girl." he hums of approval, watching how you rubbed your clothed cunt onto the tip of his cock ughh!! "uhuh.. that's right, I know you can do more."

spiderman!kinich who loves to praise you. groaning as the grasp on your thigh gets a little tighter to sign to you how he was feeling good. a sign for you to keep going.

spiderman!kinich loved to watch your head throw back, along with your velvety tongue loll out, feeling his shaft increasingly harden against your pussy.

spiderman!kinich didn't have the time to take off his suit sadly, but it definitely defined his abs a lot better. hhhh you could only moan to imagine what it'd be like to ride them.

spiderman!kinich who let you on your back, to rub his digits against the fabric of your panties under the short pencil skirt you decided on for the interview later on.

"so soaked.. just from a bit of humping?" he cooed into your ear, slowly pushing your underwear to the side. slowly fitting his fingers into your hole, one at a time.

the air felt heavy with the musky scent of sweat. strands of hair stuck to your forehead, your eyes glance over to the clock- ten minutes before your interview. spiderman!kinich looked over to the time as well, he could make you cum before that time was up, no problem.

spiderman!kinich who only fingered your hole faster, watching each second tick down to nine minutes, hearing the loud squelched your hole made each time.

adding another digit, you had already creamed onto his fingers. that's one, he made eye contact with you, knowing you couldn't keep your eyes open because of how much you were feeling down there.

his eyes analyzed the way your eyebrows knit each time he hit that one spot, so.. what if he kept curling his fingers against it right after you've just came?

well, the short answer to that was you would cum again, licking it off his fingers, licking his lips right afterward.

his hand pried your legs open, enough to spread it wide enough for his head to fit under your skirt, his tongue taking a dip into your delicious cunt. you couldn't help but clench around his fingers that worked at your hole before. that was 6 minutes.

the way his tongue started to coat your already-wet clit with saliva had your orgasm start to build up once again, adding a third finger into your hole only made it worse, or better in his point of view at least.

his fingers started to work exceedingly fast, or was it coincidentally about to his 3 minutes before the clock would hit 6:25. it's fine if you were a few minutes late right? he's pretty fast at swinging with his webs.

kissing your clit, making sure his tongue would have a long-lasting effect onto it, his started to lap your succus faster than before, not to mention the way your back arched from the sudden jump in pace.

"mmmf- kin i- i'm.. g'na be late!" you said, your hands fumbling everywhere, not knowing where to put themselves. you threw your head back with a whine of his name. he simply hummed as a reply, sending vibrations to your pussy.

there it was- you finally came, squirting onto his face, and landing onto his fingers. licking the aftertaste for a few more seconds, you had to detatch him personally off your delicious taste, making a pop sound.

"you.. don't really need that job, do you?"

"kinich!!"

[leiiilaaaa]

lilith through the houses

hii, it has been a while since i have made a post on here; hope everyone is doing well. i wanted to dive into a post about lilith, i see a lot of people who are curious about lilith and how it manifests in their charts. lilith represents many things; rebellion, dark feminine, jealousy, envy, and sense of freedom/power.

lilith in 1st - blessing & a curse. you have a sultry-esque to you, can appear a bit intimidating and off-putting from some sort of intensity; unintentionally. you have habits to always appeal to other people, you have a need to feel approved by others and rejection has always been a hard concept for you. you might have been bullied from women who were jealous of you when you were younger, or often left out on purpose because you seemed "untrusting," people often would read you wrong because they were too afraid to approach you. luckily for you though, you can pick up on these things right away. you have gifts for discernment and are good at blending into your environments nowadays. you are much harder to crack while you age, and that is because you have worked on your confidence & beauty through time- nobody can get under your skin as much as you do.

lilith in 2nd - loves to feel different. you love doing things that go against the standards. while everyone else was stressing over financial issues, housing, and overall structure, you had other plans. you preferred to feel free-spirited with your spending, and always found a way to attract money whether you worked for it or not. others despised you, thought you had it easy, or thought you let yourself go. you have a tendency to let others go, not in a bad way, but in a way that if there's anything stopping you from obtaining something, you will cut ties. you hold onto things that can be used to prove others wrong, probably still clings to photos, messages, etc. hates giving up easily. points out hypocricy on others a lot. you typically hate any form of control over you, not a fan of commands or orders, dislikes an overly organized environment. you like feeling accompanied in your habits. you always play your cards well.

lilith in 3rd - says it how it is always. you notice people usually love you or hate you there's no in between. sometimes attracts people who are two-faced, or always downplaying their achievements. you will really see the ugly side from people because of the way you can easily trigger them. felt held back from a young age to express certain thoughts, always likes to interject, say the things that others do not want to. has a serious tone, usually sounding mature and easily believable. you love pushing the boundaries with society and taking the lead. you are one of one, and you might notice some people have humored you a lot because they don't take you serious enough. people usually never let your past go, or they want to have a say in your reputation. to you though, any attention is good attention.

lilith in 4th - family matters. usually mother or prominent female figure forcing you to follow a path you don't want to. lots of household turmoil's, probably the ones to break a generational trauma, feeling suffocated by family and close ones. you have a hard time with making long-lasting friends and relationships out of fear of being abused emotionally somehow. easy for you to feel drained by others, feels and moves better alone. might have family members who are jealous of you or leave you behind because they cannot stand to see you succeed. maybe you felt that you hadn't been caught up as much as other kids growing up, late learner & way too self-dependent. you are strong in the sense that you take care of yourself better than others have. your pain has taught you how to provide a safe space for other people.

lilith in 5th - felt like you had a lot of energy vampires around you, anytime you wanted to feel fun-spirited you always had some people trying to void that. you are actually very easygoing, attract attention very easily, and people really admire your fierceness. however you fall short depending on the people you surround yourself with. you need uplifting beings around you, those who match your energy very well. you can always decipher who fits for you and who doesn't. you have a tendency to push away your intuition and gut feelings, you like giving chances and the ability for people to restart with you, however you realize it is a waste of time. lot of people will cling to you to try and analyze you, study you. relationships or friendships have used you to try to get the upperhand. people steal your ideas. tired of feeling bad for being yourself. you hope to remain light hearted and unravel new interests that give you a chance to understand yourself a bit more.

lilith in 6th - usually gets bullied because they are healthier than others. i know that sounds kiddish, but im serious. you know how to work twice as hard to get to where you want to be, whether that is career wise or health wise. you experience a lot of significant changes with your appearance, and you will have people trying to tear you down and invalidate your efforts. can deal with people speaking badly about your body, wishing to have your body, or lusting over your body. can have jealous co workers, outside peers, or in general you will notice that as soon as you want to change, many people do not like this. people have this preset notion of you and hate to acknowledge that you are in a better position than you used to be. you like doing things on your own schedule, you are known to being very picky, but as long as it is convenient for you, you do not mind. you're not a heavy complainer, instead you observe a lot and make do with whatever you got.

lilith in 7th - dealt with narcissists a lot of your life, has a fainted image of love and relationships. you guys love to reject other people lol, rightfully so though, most of the time you guys will have people trying to spin back to you. you are unforgettable to the ones you have had close bonds with, specifically with the other gender. can lead to men/women hating you so they can try to get over you. you love being able to try new things in relationships, switching it up is super important to you, and you love a 50/50, good give and take. if someone is too simple with you or doesn't seem as risk take-y as you, you kind of repel that. you crave to be unconditionally loved by someone that loves you in the right conditions. loves speaking out on things you find abnormal. you don't have many standards, which is why you have a lot of experience with the dating realm; however you only feel safe to settle once you see the imperfections in your partner. you hate anything superficial. you feel you can only trust those who are as damaged as you are.

lilith in 8th - feelings of powerlessness, inability to change, or endless karmaic cycles. you have been through harsh times with your inner self, and it has depleted a lot of your confidence. you are naturally more "darker or deeper" than others, you like reading between the lines and that is your superpower. you pick up on the things that most people slip. you have a strong aura of sensual energy whenever you do come together with a partner. seductive and manipulative at times, if you feel that you do not get what you want, you have a way to really make shit break out. lot of internal chaos with trying to figure yourself out. you have a strong admiration for the occult, and it is very known off of you. people often feel jealous that you know more than them, or that you are with-holding information, or that your energy is the most magnetic thing about you. you want to be able to explore everything that nobody wants to. it brings you peace to look from within more than on the out.

lilith in 9th - felt that higher purpose was always a challenge to try to figure out, religiously could have dealt with a traumatizing incident, or felt disconnected. turned against morals at one point and never looked back really. hates feeling narrow-minded, opened to new possibilities, hates certainty because things are so variable. people jealous that you can etach easily, and that you can expand onto bigger and better things. could been troubled in school for minor or major things, free will is a thing you love to test a lot. could have a lot of enemies from different backgrounds and countries, feel easily attacked for thinking differently than others. you notice how your mentality is far more different than others; you tend to be more receptive and optimistic, while other people could be more sensitive and reserved to their own thoughts. you dislike people with the inability to be free thinking as you are. you have a hard time connecting with others because of this, you feel only you can truly understand yourself. you can get frustrated easily and silenced due to it.

lilith in 10th - could feel scrutinized by authority figures in their lives, you might have a father who is controlling or somebody who is a male figure that will try to steer you from your goals. you have tried to make a lot of jobs work, however none feel too important to you. sometimes you feel that work industry can even be useless, simply because it doesn't bring you the satisfaction you want. you can even feel afraid to tap into your power in front of others, maybe seen as too shy or timid to go after what you really want. you sought more attention to what others would think rather than what you think of yourself. attracts jealousy through their jobs and careers anyway, some people find you "too this, too that" to the things you want to accomplish. you put up many facades and fake smiles to people because you feel that a lot of what you do is on display or talked about anyway. people honestly really love to throw some confusion your way, or doubt. you might really like a career that is extremely perplexing or doesn't require much at all.

lilith in 11th - felt weird from everyone else. you learned a lot of harsh lessons when you were younger, matured fast and enjoyed life much later. socially, well liked and easily applauded by others, which means that you also do have folks who have been envious of your abilities to drive the masses. you are unique and set trends. people follow you around or follow you online just to keep up with your aesthetic, it is like you are a hidden gem that prefers to be hidden. you've probably dealt with people trying to get close to you to steal from you or get with your other friends or even partners. you are naturally independent and sometimes too isolating. the feeling of needing nobody can stem from the fact that not many people surrounded themselves with you when you were younger. you socially blend in very well and use it to your advantage, as a lot of people will behave like "kiss-asses" to you. might have also dealt with fallouts with friends that have blamed you regardless of if you were guilty or not. they switch-up just as easy as they befriend you. it is undoubtedly hard to connect with some others.

lilith in 12th - spiritually been at war with yourself for a while, felt like there wasn't a place for you to confide without being shunned. hard time making sense of feelings that actually are justified to feel. others expected you to be strong and to bottle up a lot of your feelings, there was a lack of fulfillment also in teenage years due to the isolation you have went through. felt like you weren't good enough to go through with your ideas, fantasies, and goals. some part of you feels resentment towards yourself, as you learned that you were so hard on yourself when all you needed was to just experience life for what it was. always searching for something deeper. prone to nightmares or visions that have made you cautious, traumatizing experiences that nobody knows about or that has happened that was hidden from you or forgotten. sometimes you feel you don't even know what you are fighting for. you have a unique ability to contact your spiritual guides, manifesting comes easy for you once you work on this burden. you can bring out such strong changes in yourself and are capable of ending your "hellish" loops. people can feel envious of you for your trauma, and i know that sounds off, but you have been through a lot and others will try to act like they understand or can relate when they in fact do not. beware of people who pretend to be in the same boat as you. some will secretly just not like you, plain and simple.

thank you for reading this all through, if i was accurate or off, let me know i would love to see some of your input. there's so much more i can say about each and if you want me to elaborate i will! i know i have put more for some of these and less for others, regardless, i am open to your inputs, thank u <3

[fartcloudfartcloud]

What about Logan meeting a reader with more dominance than him? Like what would he do, what would he want to do to them?

*giggles and wrings hands together* You've found my achilles heel mr.69

i dont know if this is what you wanted but im using this as my excuse to write FREAKY SUBMISSIVE LOGAN PORN!!!

warnings: Edging, Logan being mean and then begging on his knees a second later, i do say reader is "5 foot whatever" but if that doesnt apply just ignore it lmao, I do describe him as almost crying every now and then so if that turns u off this might be a skip

This is short (1.5k) but I love submissive men so do NOT be afraid to lmk if you want more :)

Personally, I was raised by a woman way too strong headed to ever be the stereotype of submission, and I'm sure a lot of you share the same sentiment in some way or another. I was always told to never let a man tell me what to do, and I can picture a reader being the exact same way. 

Not mean, not bullheaded or rude, but strong. Tough. Logan had expected to blow through you like he had the rest of his team (or at least how he thought he did, though he was a lot tougher in his head than in action). But when he stood up to you, all 5 foot whatever of you, it felt like you were standing eye to eye.  

You did exactly as you were taught, chin up and shoulders back as you spoke with confidence, and it easily had you slipping into positions of power in the mansion with ease. He admired you from afar for a while, watched as you seamlessly commanded a room, effortlessly organizing missions and handling insubordinate children like it was nothing.  

Logan couldn't describe where the attraction came from. Originally, he thought it was his manly man urges to take a dominant woman and make her pine for him, but you and I both know that's not why you got him going. 

If you were to ask him right now in his current scenario, he wouldn't be able to tell you which was his favorite part. Not sure if it's you under him in between his knees, looking up and fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him like has something to behold; or if it's your firm grip around his cock, effortlessly bringing him so close to the edge before you manhandle him back down to earth. 

It had only been once so far, but you had gotten him bad. Your hands all sloppy and wet working up and down his length with vigor, your filthy loudmouth a never-ending record of come on baby, let me see it, let go for me. 

All that build up, just for you to -right as he whimpers out a breathless "going to fucking cum"- halt all action and grip your flingers tightly around his base. 

It ripped a deep growl from his chest, the feeling almost painful as his finish line is so rudely ripped from him.  

He should've known, he knows you too well too have assumed he could get you all pretty on your knees without some anterior motive.  

"You want something?" You ask him innocently, that stupid pretty smile still spread across your face. He grinds his teeth as the pressure in his stomach slowly simmers down, not enough air in his lungs to formulate a response.  

You slowly start stroking him again, an agonizing pace that has his cock flushed a deep red and practically throbbing in your hand. The sound is pornographic and it's all too much for him. 

He's whining now, head thrown back and noises getting increasingly high pitched as you keep his release just barely out of his reach. If he could focus enough to use his ears, he’d hear you laughing at him. 

He so rudely tries to interrupt you, tries to bring his own hands down to just get himself there, but you wouldn't allow it. You'd make him sit on his hands if you had to, and when you grabbed each wrist and planted them next to his thighs and told him to "stay," he knew better than to disobey. 

"Gotta ask for the things you want, Wolvie." You remind him. It's just basic manners, really, frankly he should be thanking you for still touching him after being so rude.  

"Don't gotta ask for shit," He spits out through clenched teeth. 

See, that was Logans problem. He had too much fucking pride, needed someone to teach him a lesson. Guess today he needs it to be you. 

"Mm you're right, Logan," you've got a smile on your face as you speak that Logan can't read. Either way, he's scared. 

None of it matters though as your hand picks up speed and pressure, resuming your prior ministrations as your fingers suddenly massage every spot with precision. His breath is gone as his head hangs limp on his shoulders, his fingers gripping the comforter like it would save him from your attack.  

"You don't gotta do shit," You're talking but he's not listening. It's all too good, he's being hurdled towards his orgasm faster than ever, he couldn't hear your jests even if he wanted to over the pressure in his ears. He’s gonna cum, he's so fucking close, and your hands feel so fucking good so perfect and it's all so much and- 

"But neither do I," and just like that you're off him. Not like before, this time you stand up and physically take a step back from him, watching his form head to toe as he's forced to cope with his second lost orgasm. 

The groan he lets out is primal, you expect to see him start ripping the pillows and sheets with how his writhing on your bed. He’s on his back twitching, practically crying from the ache pulsing through the center of his body. It hurts, he's so desperate it physically hurts, his hips rutting into the air in search of anything. 

He has no sense anymore, no control over any of his limbs as he falls to the floor and crawls to you, the only thing he can make out in his fogged-up mind is need.  

"Please baby," He begs mindlessly, "You're so fucking mean to me," He's kissing your thighs and pulling at your hands, buttering you up and wallowing in any contact you'll give him.  

Neither of you know how it happened, know at what point in the night he broke and became a whimpering messy puppy, but God did it feel good to watch, to see him yearn for you so desperately. 

His eyes are teary eyed and hazy as he speaks, "I'll do anything princess I'm sorry," He kisses you palm and knuckles and up your wrists, "Please baby I'm sorry I'm sorry just fucking-" His hips involuntarily grind down, his thighs twitching and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. "Please touch me baby I can't fucking take it,"  

He’s a mess, his cock is leaking all over his thighs and the floor, and his lips won't leave your body, lathing kisses anywhere he can, worshipping your body as you stand still and look down at him.  

"Why can't you just behave the first time?" You ask, wrapping your fingers in his hair and gently tugging his hair back, making him look at you as he speaks.  

"Was just playin baby," He kisses the wrist of the hand in his hair, "shouldn't have teased you baby I'm sorry, please baby please," his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzles into you. It's pathetic, and if anyone else ever saw him like this he's sure he could just explode on the spot.  

"Get back on the bed." You order, taking pleasure in the way he scrambles back to his spot, his legs spread for you and his hands pressed back into their spot next to his hips. He’s disheveled, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat covering him head to toe. Youd keep him like this forever if you could. 

You decide to take mercy on him though, the sight of him on his knees begging like a dog more than enough to satisfy your cravings. Now, all you wanted was to do was so how pretty he looked once he actually finished for you. 

You find your spot between his legs again, looking up at him all pretty just like before. God you were going to ruin him. 

"Go on. Tell me what you want," you give him one last instruction before giving in. His breath is shaky, his words coming out in a whole different tone than before. He sounds small, on the brink of tears as he whimpers out one last desperate, "please," before you spit in your hand and wrap it back around his cock.  

Instantly he's gone. He doesn't even have the energy to moan or cry, he's just paralyzed. His eyes roll back and his hand clamps over his mouth, no air left in his lungs as the most mind-numbing wave of pleasure works up from his core. He wasn't even cumming yet and it already was making him shake. 

He should've just trusted you, should've known that you'd make him feel so fucking good if he just listened. Never again, he'll never say no to you ever again. 

By the time his orgasm actually hit him, he's laid out flat on his back on the mattress, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. Both his hands are wrapped in the sheets, stuck in place by his claws that slowly inch out with every rope of cum that comes from him. There's no sound until it's all out of him, your hands not stopping till he's whining and pushing you away from him. 

You watch as he recovers, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he desperately tries to get air back into his lungs, aftershocks still tumbling through him. His eyes flutter back open, not enough energy to focus on anything else though as his claws start sheathing back into his knuckles.  

He sits up as you return from the bathroom with a washcloth, gently cleaning off his stomach and anything that was coated in a thin layer of his finish. He’s sensitive, hissing and gasping as you gently clean his slowly softening length and thighs.  

Once all evidence is taken care of, you look up at him with soft eyes. He looks so amazing like this, his eyes can't focus on anything while his lips slowly pull into a big dopey grin. You let him take you in for a moment, just staying like this with him till he has the strength to speak.  

"Jesus Christ," Is all he says before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before falling back onto the bed.  

"Are you going to make it?" You tease, cuddling up under his arm where he lay and resting your head on his bicep.  

"I don't think so," He giggles, enough oxygen in his system now, enough strength in him to wrap himself around you and kiss your head. "You were a lot closer to killing me then you think,"  

You giggle and smack his chest, "keep being mean like that and next time I actually will," 

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

What Could Have Been

Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.

Pairing: Philip Graves x reader

Word Count: 7, 358 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this

A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.

Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have

What Ifs Masterlist | Directory

“You’ve been chosen.” 

You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates. 

You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide. 

“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file. 

“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years. 

It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago. 

“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon. 

“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork. 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office. 

It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you. 

The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still. 

Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen. 

You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before. 

Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available. 

“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in. 

The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret. 

“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue. 

They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall. 

“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug. 

“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down. 

“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.” 

They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are. 

The rumors are true.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen. 

“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer. 

Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file. 

He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him. 

“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.” 

“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks. 

“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.” 

You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen. 

The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?

You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom. 

Or more like to keep others out. 

There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.” 

You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him. 

“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings. 

“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.” 

“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect. 

Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you. 

Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too? 

Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again. 

It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT. 

“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.” 

He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.” 

Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas. 

You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand. 

You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around. 

Look at me, look at my perfect omega. 

Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control. 

Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega. 

Unless they don’t like you. 

You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.

The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before. 

Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him. 

“Phil?” 

It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him. 

“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.” 

Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand. 

Now you do. 

You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being. 

“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”

Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you. 

His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.

“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks. 

He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap. 

“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”

He's talking about your father. 

“How did you-”

“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”

He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”

Will you? 

You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted. 

He’s been waiting longer than two years. 

“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting. 

You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.” 

He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.” 

He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either. 

You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this? 

You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that. 

You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s. 

“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again. 

You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety. 

You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted. 

That is your job, after all. 

Give him exactly what he wants. 

The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own. 

That’s not the only reason it feels strange. 

“Are you not going to-” 

Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.” 

He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in. 

You had been too focused on the bed. 

“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.” 

You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl. 

“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.” 

He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.” 

You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything. 

Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back. 

You wish the door had a lock on it. 

You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on. 

“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again. 

Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason. 

You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years. 

You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home. 

It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever. 

There won’t be any going back. 

Phil will never change his mind. 

The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct. 

“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?” 

“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class? 

He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.” 

Would he take you to see your family again? 

They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason. 

You don’t know anything about his pack. 

You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad. 

Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas? 

Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out? 

Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised. 

“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?” 

You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.” 

Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent. 

His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders. 

You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far. 

How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home? 

It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured. 

Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again. 

That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives. 

Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know. 

You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him. 

He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go. 

Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above. 

“Yes.” You nod. 

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. 

He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment. 

“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?” 

You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.

“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.” 

He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you. 

No, you know why. 

He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home. 

It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting. 

That’s your job. 

“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. “We were made for each other.” 

Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait. 

He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.” 

“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him. 

“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.” 

Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest. 

‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’ 

He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet. 

Now the silence is almost loud in your ears. 

It won’t be silent forever. 

You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice. 

“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?” 

Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually. 

Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages. 

“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm. 

“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her. 

Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.” 

There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega. 

You’re not sure you want to take it from her. 

They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added. 

Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?

“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says. 

You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.” 

“That was a while ago.” Jenny says. 

“About ten years.” You say. 

Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything. 

“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?” 

The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have. 

All we really have is each other. 

“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.” 

They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have. 

Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance. 

He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense. 

A lot of things make sense now. 

Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this. 

Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy. 

You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what. 

“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?” 

You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will. 

You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms. 

Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door. 

You don’t doubt he’d break it down eventually. 

Then he’ll be angry. 

You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you? 

The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now. 

You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob. 

The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again. 

The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture. 

“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.” 

You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it. 

You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with. 

It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage. 

How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years? 

Most alphas don’t wait anyway. 

“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.” 

His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. 

“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks. 

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.” 

“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?” 

You shake your head. 

“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. 

You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him. 

He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets. 

Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle. 

“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands. 

He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening. 

It gets easier. 

Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?” 

You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision. 

“Yes, alpha.” 

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[lovepeachh]

Chair.

Jason Todd x plus size! reader smut

In which Jason is the chair.

or

In which you aren't too heavy to sit on your bf's face after all.

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, face sitting, use of the word fat (internal dialogue, not in a negative way, it's just that I, as a plus size woman, use that word and if that upsets you I get it, don't read but i refuse to let this be another 'you're not fat, you're beautiful, let me dick you down to show you that you're not fat and ugly' fic, because fat and beautiful are not exclusive terms. I love you, and I love how you look. You're beautiful, and it's not in spite of your body.)

Dividers from here

A.N.: Sorry for not writing recently, things have been a little wild. I had a concussion, a tropical storm came, both my sisters totalled their cars, got my wisdom teeth out, and now another hurricane is on the way. Anyway, here's some smut.

"Babe, there's no way I'm doing that, I'll hurt you. I'm too heavy." It wasn't that you were self conscious of your weight or anything, but you didn't exactly want Jason to die again, this time because of you and your fat girl pussy.

He raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say 'So you think I'm weak?'

"Baby, don't give me that, I'm a big boy."

"Well I'm a big girl and I'm not gonna suffocate you or break your neck."

"I mean, it's a lot better than how I went out the first time."

A silence.

"Not funny."

He sits you on his lap.

"Come on sweetie, we can just try it. And I'll tap your thigh three times if I need air or for you to get up for any reason. Scout's honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a scout."

"Eh, I was a robin. Close enough. Please?"

"Ugh fine. I'll sit on your face. Happy?"

It's a matter of minutes before he rips off your clothes and pulls you right on top of his face, eating you out like a starving man at a Thanksgiving buffet.

Goddamn. He was good at this.

He hooks his arms around your thighs and holds you in place while he laps at you until you writhe and squirm.

"Jay!"

You're not quite sure if the sound leaving his mouth is a laugh or a moan, but the vibration has.you seeing stars.

He laps and sucks at you as you near the edge.

"Ah-!"

All thoughts of being too heavy leave your mind. Because this man wants it bad. And he's tongue fucking you too good for you to think straight.

Your hips buck as he licks into you over and and over until you're coming all over his desperate face.

He laps up your release and keeps stimulating your abused cunt until you start to tremble. Then he releases you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and presses a sticky kiss to your cheek.

"Still think you're too heavy?" he asks.

"Not for you." .

He laughs. "So we can do this again?"

You roll your eyes. "You're such a whore."

He kisses you. "Only for you, sweetheart."

You won't be doubting him again anytime soon. After all, what's a bit of fat when your boyfriend is built like a literal tank.

You shift in his arms, feeling something against your leg.

Oh.

"Care to help me out with that, sweetheart?"

[elllisaaa]

hi eli!! hope you’re well 💖💖 was hoping you could write husband headcannon for dino? including nsfw hc? 🫣 i know you wrote bf hc dino but i feel like husband hc would hit differently ykno lol tysm!! 💖💖

HUSBAND!CHAN hits different, that's true, because if as your boyfriend he was whipped, now he's a simp and he isn't ashamed of it.

he's so proud that you're his wife that he doesn't even call you by your name anymore, always saying my wife this, my wife that, because he cannot get enough of saying it, knowing that you're his forever brings a smile to his face and a warm feeling in his chest everytime. chan is also a sucker for the way you present him as your husband, and it's like he's never gonna get used to it. even if now that you're married he should trust you even more and feel less possessive because he knows you're his through and through, it gets worse. everytime you're out together, he needs to have his arm wrapped around your waist or your shoulders, showing off to everyone that you're taken, showing off his ring to anyone. even in private, chan is a lot more clingy and touchy (which is surprising because he was already very clingy and touchy before) but now it is necessary for him to be with you all the time, he never lets you go. and now that you're his wife, he can easily take you with him during tours and any event. it allows you to travel too, seeing so many cities and countries you didn't think you would ever visit.

"we're going to berlin next week honey, i'm taking you with me."

chan still feels shy sometimes when you compliment him, but now, he has found some ways to make you blush too. now, he's the one to fluster you most of the time instead. he's the type to retweet the posts saying "goodnight to my wife, fuck everyone else" without feeling any guilt because it's true. he takes the opportunity that he's your husband now to take care of you and spoil you even more. the way he sees it is that he has to be even more worthy of you and not make you regret marrying him. he buys you jewelry, clothes, books, flowers, everything that you want and need, and even what you didn't even asked for, he's always one step ahead of you to make you smile. you would've thought that after so many times, you would've been used to his affection and his tendency to spoil you, but you weren't, and chan loves how you react just like the first day when he gives you something new.

"this necklace is so pretty on you " - "but channie, it was so expensive…" - "don't worry about it my love, i just love to make my gorgeous wife happy."

HUSBAND!CHAN whose sex drive is even higher now that you're fully his, now that you live together.

chan cannot take his hands off you anymore. the day of your wedding was the happiest day of his life, yes, without any doubt. but as the night came to an end paired with the many drinks he had, by the time everyone left, he could hardly holdback from fucking you right there. chan definitely fucked you while you were still wearing your wedding dress and he was still wearing his suit. and then he spoiled you all night, only really falling asleep as the sun rose up through the window. also, during your honeymoon, chan had the same energy going on. he spent so much time in between your thighs because he couldn't get enough of your taste and the way you were his wife now.

"come on honey, please just let me give you one more. you can do that for me right ? my gorgeous wife…"

at first, he was scared that a routine would settle in your intimate times just as it did with your everyday life. and he didn't want things to get boring, so i think chan would probably want to try a lot of new things with you. he asks you to make a list of all the things you wanna try out, and he also makes a list. whenever the two of you have the time and the energy for it, you pick something from your lists to spice things up. you love that chan tries to keep things interesting, but you also do things to surprise him too and he melts down from the inside everytime. a lot of people told him that once you're married, nothing's refreshing anymore, but chan always brags about the fact that he never once got bored with you. there's also a lot of public sex with him once he's your husband, because as i've stated before, he cannot take his hands off you. be that at the fancy restaurant he took you out to, at a birthday party of one of your friends, in the middle of the park you planned your picnic date to. every occasion is worth pushing his dick inside of you.

"fuck, yes, bend over just like that for me. gonna make you scream my name for everyone to hear."

[kentahoe]

a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. established relationship

cw: SEX idk what else to put i’ve never written smth like this before🤕 nothing out of pocket but nothing short of freaky deaky.

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the stupider you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you could help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing the barrier of the cushion, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him. “Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers crazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out on pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable to not have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther than his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out on concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy as mindless— like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt to your cheeks, and you new you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting you head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, letting out his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

a/n: i never know how to end these ;-; srry if it was rushed or bad, i don’t know how to properly pace a story. not much of a writer, but the lack of fics igniting smth in my lizard brain.

lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[stanpinesdykewife]

ME AGAIN hi hi nothing extravagant as i don’t want to overwhelm you, but i’ve been rereading your works again and i’m just DYING to know your personal headcanons for stan, either sfw, nsfw or both!!! thank you for your work you’re amazing 💗💗💗 - 🎀

THIS I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS… thank you so much for this ask what a super fun idea!!!! here goes!!!

under the cut: sfw and nsfw stan headcanons… as your boyfriend!! (i’m blushing) (no gendered pronouns used)

fic rec at the bottom :)

sfw:

big on chivalry! says he was raised “right” and he’s a “gentleman” etc. holds open doors for you and offers his arm instead of holding hands. also really big on flowers or other gifts

pointedly uses the word “date” instead of just inviting you out: “great! it’s a date!” vs “let’s go out tonight” (yes he thinks there’s a difference)

can’t keep his hands off you! always needs to be touching your waist, your back, your wrist, or at least standing close enough to know you’re right next to him

cheesy flirt!! loves the yawn and stretch to put his arm over you. constantly uses his bank of pick-up lines on you: “did it hurt?... when you fell from heaven?” and “you got a map? cuz i just got lost in your eyes!” probably studied a book of them in high school

that being said stan gets so easily flustered it’s hilarious HAHAHA the second you flirt back or even give him a smile and a Look up and down he’s sweating

never admits that he gets flustered because he’s used to the idea of being a Big Macho Man. but he knows you know that he knows how easily you can make him melt

enjoys you playing with his face like feeling up his jaw and cheeks and nose and mouth. it makes him feel pretty!

loves holding you in his lap… will refuse to admit his legs are numb in favor of hugging you around your waist and nuzzling the back of your head

loves loves loves teasing you! like grabbing things out of your hands and holding them high up, grabbing your waist and holding you hostage when you try to stand or leave the room, constantly asking “what’s in it for me?” whenever you ask him to cut it out or do something simple like pass your phone. but stan will never ever say no to a kiss

nsfw:

obvious in all my fics but stan cannot shut up. he loves to talk during sex and loves to make you talk back: begging for him, asking “politely” for him to touch you, telling him how good you feel

MAJOR praise kink. huge. the reason he’s so chatty during sex is to make sure you want the things he wants. he craves the validation that he makes you feel good. LOVES to hear you moan and make noise for him

BIG SERVICE GUY!!! loves going down on you. literally moans into you because he loves the taste and how good it feels for you. probably came in his pants once or twice just from palming himself during it

loves to overstimulate you. always reminds you to literally shove his head away if it’s too much because he gets so lost in how loud you get

he’s kind of gross lol he’ll wipe his sex hands all up on his clothes or sheets and not bother washing his hands unless you tell him to

BIG kisser. lots of tongue. he doesn’t have much experience kissing so he’s really sloppy with it especially during sex when he’s trying to kiss you and fuck you at the same time

tits guy! doesn’t even matter whether you have tits or not. he loves them and loves nipples in his mouth especially when you arch your chest up to him

loves coming inside

he’s so gross! if he doesn’t come in you he’ll come ON you and smear it into your skin. the messier the better

aftercare is so important to him after meeting you… he doesn’t have much experience with it himself but he adores you and can’t help himself from snuggling up even if you’re complaining about how gross the sheets are

inspo from Must See: Mystery Shack by guilty_pleasures_abound but he definitely gets generous after a good fuck. will run out to get you water or snacks or just some wipes to get you cleaned up!!

all done! this was so fun! would love more hc requests whether it be for more stan-centric ones or other characters/scenarios!!

[patrywoso]

18. Ingrid x Mapi x reader

+18 smut

Warnings: Strap-Ons. Spanking. Mommy Kink. Punishment. 

A/N: Thank you @ljs-woso-vibez for proofreading this fic and making all this much easier

Ingrid strutted back and forth before the two kneeling women, her footsteps echoing throughout the room. “You two sure have an awful lot of nerve,” she remarked. Her voice was level, her tone almost conversational, unlike the words coming out of her pretty mouth. “I do my best to make the rules very clear. So, the question is, were you deliberately ignoring the rules, or just being a couple of stupid, bratty girls?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the elbow from Mapi kept you quiet.

Ingrid raised a brow. “Have you got something to say, little girl? Go ahead, say it.”

“It was Mapi’s fault…she wanted to fuck, and she said you’d never know and...” you rambled on.

“Dammit, you didn’t have to say that…!” Mapi snapped. 

Ingrid patted your head. “Good girl,” she cooed. “Thank you for your honesty.” She knelt to press a kiss to your lips.

It was abundantly clear that Mapi was jealous of the affection you were receiving, though she certainly wasn’t going to speak up without permission as you both were in enough trouble already. Ingrid was very affectionate with you and Mapi. However, she was extremely strict during the punishments you received when you broke the rules.

The first and foremost rule was that you and Mapi must always ask permission if you wanted to have sex. Ingrid usually granted permission, so long as she was there to watch. That week, though, Mapi had been horny and impatient, and Ingrid wasn’t there to grant permission, away on a Norway national camp. So, she’d begged and convinced you to go along with breaking the rule, even knowing Ingrid would be angry.

When Ingrid pulled away from your lips, she glanced at Mapi and saw the jealousy in her eyes. “Darling, you only have yourself to blame,” she reminded. “Perhaps if you take your punishment well, I’ll feel like rewarding you...”

Mapi nodded and said nothing.

With that, Ingrid turned on the remote vibrator pressed against Mapi’s clit. “You’re to remain still and silent,” she instructed, “And under no circumstances are you allowed to cum. Do you understand me, kitten?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Mapi mumbled.

Turning to you, Ingrid said, “You are going to help me show Mapi what she’s missing.” Ingrid settled in the armchair facing Mapi, and patted her lap in a silent command for you to come and straddle her thighs.

“Thank you, Mommy,” you murmured, taking the position, an eager smile on your lips.

Ingrid threaded her fingers in your hair, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?” she cooed. “Do you like being punished?” You shrugged, but your smile gave away your mischief.

“Slutty little thing,” Ingrid teased. “Want to ride my thigh until you cum?”

You nodded eagerly, grinding down on Ingrid’s leg in search of friction.

“Does it feel good?” Ingrid asked. “Tell Mapi what she’s missing.”

On a shaky sigh, you said, “I’m sorry... I’m going to cum. I need... I need it.”

Mapi whimpered, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip to quell the urge to beg, knowing Ingrid wouldn’t be swayed by her pleas. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing the image of your climax would be too much to bear without making a sound.

“Open your eyes, kitten” Ingrid demanded. “You’ll want to see this.”

With a shuddering breath, Mapi obeyed. Opening her eyes just in time to see your entire body go tense as you thrust your hips against Ingrid’s thigh, once, twice more before cumming with a cry of, “Fuck, Mommy!”

“Good girl,” Ingrid purred. “You look so beautiful when you cum. Doesn’t she, kitten?”

“She does,” Mapi agreed, voice strangled as she struggled to keep control over herself while the vibrator buzzed against her clit.

Ingrid patted your cheek. “I’m done with you now. Back in line.” 

Once you were kneeling on the floor, Ingrid said to Mapi, “She made quite a mess. Do you want to clean it up?”

Mapi nodded and Ingrid stood, crossed to stand before her, wrapping her fingers around Mapi’s hair and pulling her in until Mapi could pass her tongue along her soaked thigh. Obediently, Mapi cleaned up every last drop of your juices. Then, she changed to pressing kisses along Ingrid’s thigh, higher and higher until she was nearly at Ingrid’s clit.

Ingrid turned up the vibrations buzzing against Mapi’s clit. She clicked her tongue scoldingly as Mapi yelped. “Did I say you could do that?” she snapped.

“No, Mommy, but I just...”

“You were just being a brat is what you were doing, kitten,” Ingrid said pointedly. “You know that’s a treat reserved only for good girls.” Ingrid studied Mapi’s trembling form for a few moments, then declared, “I think I’ve finally decided on your punishment. You’ll get a spanking, ten strikes to be exact and I want our little girl to administer them.”

“What?” you said.

“What!?” Mapi yelped at the same moment.

Ingrid nodded firmly. “Would you prefer not to cum at all? Those are your choices.” When Mapi nodded her agreement, Ingrid said, “Proceed.”

You brought your hand down on Mapi’s ass with a smacking sound.

“One,” Mapi counted, gasping slightly at the sudden sharp contact.

As your hand came down for the tenth and final time, Mapi was trembling with the effort of maintaining her composure and Ingrid’s grin was positively smug as she watched, almost daring her to cum without permission. Mapi barely hanging on to her modicum of control.

“I’m impressed,” Ingrid remarked with a raised brow, apparently surprised. “You managed remarkably well. I was not expecting such a little brat to take her punishment so well.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” Mapi replied, panting softly. The adrenaline coursing through her system was slowly abating, giving her better reign over her senses once again.

“You’ve both been relatively well-behaved tonight,” Ingrid remarked. “And I’m thinking that one of you two deserves a reward. Unfortunately, you were both very bad. So, only one of you will be getting rewarded tonight. The other will watch and get nothing, learning a very valuable lesson in the process.”

Mapi and you shared a look of silent debate, amusing Ingrid. “Don’t worry, I’m a fair woman,” she purred. “I’m going to flip a coin, and our little girl will call it for me.”

“Heads, Mommy.”

Ingrid flipped the coin, letting it fall to the floor between the two waiting women. “What does it say?”

You swallowed thickly, gaze darting from the coin, to Mapi, to Ingrid. “Heads, Mommy,” you repeated.

Ingrid grinned and mussed your hair. Then, she turned to Mapi and said, “Do me a favour first, kitten.” Mapi nodded, teeth scraping over her bottom lip. “Suck my cock.” It was a command, not a request.

“Yes, Mommy,” Mapi husked. She watched as Ingrid fastened herself into the harness, practically salivating in anticipation.

“Good girl,” Ingrid praised. She could see your jealous little pout from the corner of her eye. “Don’t worry,” she assured you, “It’s only to get my strap ready for you.” She tilted your face up so she could kiss you. Then, she turned to Mapi. “Get to work.”

Mapi obliged by opening her mouth, crawling over on her knees, her gaze never leaving Ingrid’s. She wrapped her hand around the base of the strap, her tongue flicking out over her bottom lip, a small groan leaving her as once again Ingrid wrapped her fingers around her hair. With a steadying breath, Mapi took the strap into her mouth, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked on the tip. She kept her eyes fixed on Ingrid’s as she lowered her head until she’d taken the entire length into her mouth, holding it in her throat for a moment. Her eyes watered slightly, not quite able to fully breathe, but she trusted Ingrid completely and was more than content to let her have full control. 

Mapi pulled back until the strap slipped from her mouth and she could once again breathe, as she gulped down air, she stroked the strap with her hand, the other still gripping tight to Ingrid’s thigh.

“You look so good with my strap in your mouth,” Ingrid purred, her hips twitching in time with Mapi’s stroking, “So pretty with your lips wrapped around me like a good little kitten.”

Mapi lifted the strap, dragging her tongue along the underside, then kissing the tip. She didn’t speak, knew that wasn’t what Ingrid wanted her to be doing with her mouth. She once again took the strap in her mouth, sucking hard as she bobbed her head, letting the strap fill her mouth and throat with each stroke. Ingrid hummed a pleased note as she watched. 

“You’re doing so good,” she moaned, gripping Mapi’s hair tighter, struggling not to force her head down any further than was comfortable for Mapi.

Ingrid could feel her juices dripping down her thighs, the sight and sounds of Mapi working her strap sinfully delicious, almost enough to bring her to the brink of cumming. Her hips bucked forward, the strap hitting the back of Mapi’s throat and making her gag. Ingrid paused, waiting for Mapi to tap out, but she didn’t, instead keeping eye contact in a way that let Ingrid know she was ready and able to take everything Ingrid had to give. 

With a growl from low in her throat, Ingrid thrust forward, slamming her hips into pink swollen lips. Mapi moaned around the strap, the sound spurring Ingrid on further as she set a rhythm with her thrusts, plunging the strap into Mapi’s throat.

“Such a good girl,” Ingrid murmured. “You’re doing so well.” Then, a stern command, “Make me cum. I want to cum in your mouth.”

With a little whimper, Mapi moved her hand between Ingrid’s legs, finger slipping easily into her cunt, making her cry out. Mapi’s thumb drew sloppy circles on her clit and Ingrid’s hips twitched in response, her pussy tightening around her fingers. Mapi wanted so badly to touch her own clit, but wasn’t so bold, knowing Ingrid would take away her strap and leave her desperate and needy for days on end.

Ingrid came suddenly, hips stuttering to a stop as her whole body trembled with the force of her climax. She cried out, hissing a sharp, “Fuck!” which only made Mapi want to smirk, filled with pride over so effectively having made her cum. Ingrid released the hand holding Mapi’s hair, letting her pull back from the strap and catch her breath. The saliva coated strap glistened in the overhead light, bobbing slightly as Ingrid caught her breath too.

With a wicked grin, Ingrid dragged two fingers through her dripping cunt, coating them in her juices, then offered them to Mapi for her to suck them into her mouth. Mapi more than willing obliged, eagerly cleaning off Ingrid sweet juices. You were obviously getting impatient, though, squirming in place as you tried to get friction between your legs without ever touching yourself, as you hadn’t been given permission.

“That’s enough,” Ingrid instructed Mapi who released her fingers reluctantly. Without another glance at her, Ingrid moved across the room to settle in the armchair once again. 

“Time for your reward, little girl,” she said to you, “On my lap.”

Eager and excited, you moved to swing your leg over Ingrid’s lap, letting Ingrid wrap her hands around your hips, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. You grabbed the strap, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down on it with a throaty moan. You sat still, panting slightly, for a few moments as you adjusted to the size. You began moving up and down slowly, grinding your hips in slow circles. Ingrid’s hands travelled down to grip your ass, nails digging into your flesh, and you responded by gripping at Ingrid’s shoulders, giving her better leverage for her thrusts.

“What a good girl,” Ingrid cooed. “Tell me how good it feels.” She leaned forward, taking a hard nipple in her mouth and biting down on it.

“Mommy...” you whimpered at the feeling of teeth scraping across the sensitive bud. You were trembling already, and you knew you wouldn’t last very long at all. “Your strap feels so good...”

“Keep going,” Ingrid encouraged. She moved to lavish the same attention on your other breast. “Show me how much you want it.”

You nodded eagerly, working your hips at a frantic pace, knowing that if you slowed down too much, Ingrid might revoke your reward. “So good, Mommy... It’s so good.”

Ingrid’s fingers sought out your clit and began rubbing it in counterpoint to each of your thrusts. “I want you to cum for me,” she instructed. “Cum all over my lap like a good girl.”

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, yes… so good, Mommy!” you began thrusting more erratically, your thighs twitching with the effort of supporting yourself.

“That’s right, keep going,” Ingrid instructed. “I want to hear you.” She bucked her hips upward, slamming into you and knocking the air from your lungs. Ingrid watched, nearly salivating as your breasts bounced with each of her thrusts upwards.

You tightened your grip on Ingrid’s shoulders, almost to the point of pain, as you struggled to breathe, on the verge of falling apart. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax, tossing your head back and crying out Ingrid’s name as you rode out the aftershocks, Ingrid’s finger still working your clit. On a shaky exhale, you said, “Thank you, Mommy.”

Ingrid pulled you in for a bruising kiss. “Good girl. I’m so proud of you.” She glanced over at Mapi who looked so sad. “Why don’t you go give Mapi a kiss, to make her feel better.”

You obliged, bringing your lips down on Mapi’s, indulging in the kiss until Ingrid said, “Stop.” Reluctantly, you broke apart, turning back to face Ingrid.

“Hopefully, the two of you have learned something, and next time you’ll be better behaved,” Ingrid said gently.

“Yes, Mommy,” the two of you said in unison.

[theanimeroom]

BOMBSHELL | TEASER

synopsis: five men, five women, one villa. with hearts and a $50,000 cash prize on the line, who will win the race to find love?

warnings: love island au featuring: tokyo revengers, blue lock, and jujutsu kaisen, lots of kissing, smut, multi characters × reader, lots of mixed pairings, very random challenges, fluff, slow burns, mentions of cheating, drama, angst, plenty of tears, multi fandom, and playlists included!

a/n: content warnings will be posted with each chapter, so be sure to read thoroughly before indulging! i haven't written a full fic in a while, so any beta readers would be appreciated to make sure that the story comes out as best as it could <3 the story will progress through my own discretion as well as voting at the end of each chapter, so make sure to cast your votes to see how the plot will unfold!

BOMBSHELL MASTERLIST

your heartbeat was erratic as you stood in front of the fire pit and your host, eyes scanning the expanse of the large, beautiful villa that you'd been staying at for the past four weeks.

you still remember the first day that you walked in here; a plethora of pretty faces greeting you with happy smiles and intrigued expressions. you reminisced the way that you were almost as nervous as you are now, eyes wide and palms clammy as you tried to ignore the growing anxiety surging through you. you thought about all the experiences you'd had up until this point, all the friends you made, all the things you learned about yourself, and most importantly, him.

out of everything that you had been through in your time at the villa, one thing that made the whole experience worth it was finally meeting the person of your dreams. you came onto the show thinking that it would be something fun, maybe slightly embarrassing, but fun nonetheless. you never thought that you would come out the end with someone that you could call your own, someone who understood you seemingly better than you knew yourself. despite all the fights, all the tears, and everything in between, you managed to come out the other end okay. happy even.

and you weren't the only one.

your gaze fluttered to your best friend, who stood two people away from you, a proud smile crossing your lips even with your nerves consuming you. you weren't the only person who came into the villa with baggage on their shoulders, yet none of you let it stop you. a brief image of you holding her as she cried into your arms flashed through your mind, the sadness and betrayal leaving her a wreck in your makeup room. you'd thought for a moment that it would be the end of your time together, yet you were happy to see her pull through and find happiness in the end.

everyone here had done their absolute best, even with their rights and wrongs, and that thought alone was enough to quell the queasy feeling building up in your stomach.

"alright islanders, it is officially time," the hosts' voice chopped through the nerve-wracking silence with ease, her calm expression giving no hints as to how the end of the night would go. a long sigh escaped your flared nostrils as you closed your eyes, teeth grazing your bottom lip as you forced your emotions to stay in check.

a soft hand turned your attention to your left, air escaping you as you looked up at the man you could truly say you were starting to love. he smirked at you, his own expression laced with playfulness as he tried his best to calm you down. a large grin spread across your face when you felt fingers interlocking with yours, a gentle squeeze giving you all the reassurance you needed to keep yourself grounded for the time being. your breath halted as he leaned down, lips just barely touching the shell of your ear as he whispered to you softly. "we'll be fine, baby."

you pulled away so you could glance into his eyes, a small nod giving him confirmation that you heard what he said. you trust him, probably more than you should.

"it has been a long, hard journey for those of you remaining," your host started, giving a soft smile to each of the islanders standing on the other side of the firepit. "yet, each of you has managed to find a connection here in the villa. although some of you have been through more struggles than others," you could feel the heat rising onto your face when your eyes made direct contact with hers, a snort escaping you as you laughed with the rest of the islanders that you could now call your best friends. "you all have made it to the finals, and are now in the running for the 50,000 dollar prize on the line."

you subconsciously tightened your grip on his hand at the mention of the prize, your body weight shifting from one foot to the other. you wanted to win, wanted that 50,000 so badly so you could finish your schooling without issues. yet, you were content with whatever outcome was prepared for you. in the end, as long as you had him next to you, you would give up the money in a heartbeat.

"since the start of the show, the country has been voting for their favorite love island couple," each word she spoke left your anxiety spiking, your mind begging her to just hurry up and give the results before your heart exploded from suspense. "but now, they have voted for their official love island winner."

you held your breath as you stared at the host, silence taking over the villa as she picked up a small envelope from the couch behind her. you eyed the paper with angst as she peeled it open slowly, reading the results before looking up at the lot of you behind the fire pit.

you watched as her jaw flexed, a breath getting sucked into your mouth as your heart started to beat so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest.

her mouth opened, eyes scanning the crowd before the first words left her lips. "and the winner... of love island is..."

[exhuastedpigeon]

Part of growing up and being a teenager is that you're sometimes forced by your parents/authority figures to deal with situations that you don't want to. It sucks, but that's life. You have to deal with things you don't want to as a person, you can't avoid hard conversations or uncomfortable feelings forever. It doesn't work like that.

So the fact that Helena and Ramon are seemingly letting Chris avoid talking to his dad. Are seemingly helping Chris put roots down in Texas so he can keep avoiding his dad. Who don't seem to be trying to push Chris to face what he saw and the grief and trauma he's experienced isn't helping him in the long term - it's teaching him to run away from his problems and avoid them. Which is exactly what Eddie did when he was only a few years older than Chris. Which may be what Ramon was doing when he was traveling so much for work. Which is what Helena is doing by not talking to her son about the shit he's been through.

Letting Chris, a thirteen, now fourteen year old child, go with his grandparents to Texas for a few months because that's what he wanted was, in my opinion, a good parenting move from Eddie. It showed Chris that he trusts him and values what Chris thinks is best for him.

But it's been three months now. It's been long enough that Chris isn't just going away because it's what he thinks is best for himself, it's because he's avoiding the hard conversation(s) he's going to have to have with his dad. He's fourteen - while sometimes he does know what's best for himself, there are a lot of times where he doesn't.

Helena saying they're thinking about putting a pool in, that they take him to the pool club all the time and he's made so many friends, all of that is clearly a grandparent spoiling their grandchild. She isn't having hard conversations with him, she's letting him avoid his problems and shove them under the rug - something that has never ended well in the Diaz family but they continue to do anyway because that's just what they do - they move forward even at the cost of growing.

I have a feeling there will be some kind of reckoning between Eddie and his mother. He already kind of had one with his dad (though I'm not sure if that's developed further since Chris left). But I have a feeling it'll be Eddie who, once again, has to take the first step to end generational trauma within his family so that Chris doesn't grow up and run away from is problems too.

[apostaterevolutionary]

I am so sorry, apparently it’s 2024 and I’m arguing about dragon age again lmao. How did I get here! Why is this happening!! Time is a flat circle!!!

Anyway. People can feel how they want about the past games not mattering in this game. If you’re cool with it, I’m happy for you. But there’s one particular argument in defence of this choice that is really, really bothering me and I have to rant

The thing I keep seeing is “well all this other stuff has nothing to do with the main plot or Rook, so it should be cut” and that’s. Not a good way to tell stories in my opinion. Because here’s the thing: it’s not about the Big Overall Plot. It’s about the characters that live in this world, big and small

I’m going to use the example of Varric and Hawke cause I think it’s the easiest to explain quickly. Varric is a storyteller. That’s the defining trait of his character. He tells stories, and sometimes they’re true and sometimes they’re not and sometimes it’s something in between. In DA2 he tells you about his brother. In inquisition, he talks about hawke and there’s banter about several of the companions. Most of these are just little one liners that don’t “serve the overall plot” but they serve Varric’s character

And that matters

So if we take this character known for telling stories about people that have been in his life, well, he largely can’t do that now. How can he talk about Hawke, someone who can be a very close friend of his, without even their gender being a choice you can select? Or whether Varric should be saying ‘is’ or ‘was’ about them? How can he talk about the companions in DA2 or inquisition when a lot of them don’t have to be recruited or can die? Will he limit himself to only characters that are guaranteed to be a part of it and alive? Or is it that he and Rook will have such a shallow relationship that Varric, of all characters, never talks about his life and past exploits?

Or has Varric as a character changed so much that he doesn’t even want to tell stories anymore? That Hawke living or dying means nothing to him? That the friendships he built with people in 2 games mean nothing to him? That he’s become literally unrecognizable?

This is where the problem is. Sure, Rook maybe doesn’t care about these people they’ve never met. But do they care about Varric? What about if a companion mentions an old friend of theirs, talks about an experience they had that made them who they are - is that only okay if that experience isn’t from a previous game? Or are all the characters so flat that we never learn anything about their connections to others outside of Rook? Is this story SO focused on this player character and this plot that NOTHING else matters, even within the world, and there’s no depth to be found in any of the characters that feature in it?

Writing characters so that they only ever talk about things that “directly serve the plot” is how you get flat, unremarkable, boring, forgettable characters. And that’s not something I would have accused bioware of doing even if some instalments are stronger in this area than others. But it sounds like that’s what they’re doing here, at least with the past characters. Cause sure, maybe Morrigan is so closed off she’ll never mention her son and partner. That’s believable, even if iffy given that they’ve said she’s going to be more involved than we think. But Varric? VARRIC??? Never mentioning ANY of the people he used to spend time with and care about except Solas and maybe some of the inquisition characters that can’t die or not be recruited but also carefully skirting around what happened to them in the game? That’s literally not the same character

And I would expand this to like. A letter mentioning this or a codex mentioning that, or ambient dialogue about so and so - that makes the world feel deep and those random, unimportant NPCs feel richer by connecting them to the larger world. It’s not about “serving the plot”, it’s about making your world and characters deep enough that they feel real, lived in, and like something we can actually care about

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Blake Quotes

BLAKEY POOOOO ♡ sassy man

“You’re the brightest spot in my life. You always have been, even when you’re so far away I can barely see the glow.”

“Charming friend you got there. [he’s shaking in his boots]”

“That’s a one-way ticket to ending up in a spiral!”

“Whatever you need of me. I’ll give it, provided you save my love.”

“Questions aren’t really necessary right now, so how about you just sit there and look pretty, hmm?”

“Do you want me to show you exactly what magic can do when it’s not on your side?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want too. [goofy goofy chuckle]”

“You make me smile, you make me happy. I like being with you. That’s enough.”

“I can’t always keep my head above the water, but being with you is like… having an air tank. I might be below the surface, but I’m still getting oxygen. You’re that oxygen that keeps me going when I’m under."

“I told you, it was nothing... All right, let me clarify, it’s not “nothing”, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Your little fuckbuddy-"

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me. It felt like… someone switching on the lights, and suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the dark all that time before. It felt like life was suddenly in colour.”

“it felt like I got a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced and then the next morning, I didn’t just lose the chance at that, I lost my best friend.”

“I’m tired of the dance. I just miss my friend.”

“I can’t be another mistake. Because it’ll break me.”

“You know me, you know how I am.”

“If we’re together, I’ll do everything for you, and I’ll give you everything I can, I’ll give you time and patience, if you need to be with your own thoughts, I’ll give you quiet, but I won’t be able to give you space.”

“The things I think about you, how much I want you… it’s the stuff you’re not supposed to say out loud. The stuff you’re never supposed to admit to feeling.”

“Just sitting at the table one morning, having breakfast when you realized, Oh wait, who's that voice in my head? Must be an ancient, unknowable force in Death. Guess I'll go back to my oatmeal.”

“What are you doing?”

“You would dirty their fucking name by speaking it.”

“if you pick this, it’ll be all of me. All of it. And we both know a lot of that’s not pretty.”

“I’ll get that smile on those pretty lips in the morning, just you wait.”

“I’m not worried you’ll try something. You don’t constitute a meaningful threat in my book. Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“I’m not that fucking stupid. [He is]”

“Congratulations, someone please get the gentleman a door prize.”

“You can’t matter.”

“You're going to learn when to shut the fuck up. And spoiler alert, tied up, on the ground, with your powers inhibited? That's one of those times.”

“Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“I sleep easy in the arms of the person I love. Knowing that everything I’ve done, everything I do, I do for them.”

“I never stopped loving you, I’m still back there, I’m still just this scared kid telling you he fucking loves you.”

“Cute. Are you going to keep wasting time with passive aggression or do you actually have something to tell me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Yeah, all for you. All of it. [ft D’Deridahn calling him horny in the background]”

[madaqueue]

gn!reader - 18+ MDNI (jjk spoilers !!!! also just....angst. lots of angst)

you never hated the rain. satoru made sure of that.

“it’s a way to prove things are alive!” he’d beam, gaze fixed on the window as it slowly collected droplets, tracing their path down the glass. he smiled when they’d meet, rivulets diving down and onto the concrete below to join one another. as if they, too, were alive.

maybe that’s why you’d find him standing outside during storms, hair matted and clothes drenched. soaked in proof.

it’s almost fitting that it’s raining today.

almost.

the rain sounds hollow as it litters the ground. the dirt. the empty casket. for someone so loud, who filled every space with his soul and energy and mind, you would have expected more. but then again, not even the sun exploding and burning and wiping everything away until the only noise echoing through the universe is a chant of his name would be enough to capture him. to honor him.

instead, today, there’s no sound anywhere.

you want to scream, to pull out the grass and slam your fists onto the wood just to make something happen.

but it won’t make him come back.

it won’t make his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his warmth. it won’t make his lips press kisses over every inch of your skin like a promise. it won’t make those bright blue eyes linger a moment too long on yours. not ever again.

and then you’re on your knees. you’re screaming and your chest hurts and the rain tastes saltier than you remember and you feel like you’re drowning in it.

maybe then you’ll at least get to see him again.

“hey, it’s okay,” a warm voice pulls you back to the surface for a moment. but the hand rubbing your back is too small. it’s not him. “let it out,” shoko hums behind you, holding an umbrella above your shaking form.

you feel weak, like a strong enough gust of wind could blow you over. you wish it would. you wish it would throw you into the hole in the ground and cover you in wet soil and mud. even dirty, satoru would love you.

you wonder if he’d find this pathetic. he was never one for dramatic displays, especially for his sake. but then again, he never looked down on you for how violently the waves of your emotions seemed to throw you around, crashing into rocks and tumbling underwater. no, he would just rub your back and kiss your tears away. “it’s okay,” he’d whisper, “i’m here.”

but now he’s not here.

and he’ll never be here again.

and you can’t bring him back and you can’t hear his voice or his laugh or the soft little breaths as he fell asleep in your arms and you can’t say “i love you” ever again. because you won’t. you won’t ever feel what you felt for him again.

your heart is buried in the ground and no amount of digging will bring it back.

but then, more arms wrap around you. they still aren’t satoru’s, but they’re warm. in spite of the rain.

“we miss him, too,” yuji whispers. the others don’t say anything - they don’t have to, they can’t. what more is there to say?

but then, as they hug you, and you hug them, the grief gets a little lighter, just for a moment. because you’re all carrying it together. his students, his future, will hold him in their memories and bring him with them.

your head falls back, and raindrops land on your cheeks. the same places satoru’s lips used to be.

the sky matches his eyes.

maybe you can find him in the rain.

a/n: sorry :/

[turtle-taetell]

goodbye Mersmp

Super long message below!! (Funny story!)

and a message to the CCs at the end! <3

This is a piece that means so much to me. 21 months ago the designs for Theo and Faye got released. That day, i drew them! On paper with the supplies I had laying around, in a sketchbook smaller than my hand. At this point I was proud of my art but still very nervous about it. I had no idea how to draw them. I struggled a lot.

The second time I drew it, a year had passed. I felt I had been able to grow a lot as an artist and was excited to show how much I improved, so I redrew it! I loved how the lineart turned out and was so so excited to see the finished piece! But guess what? I hated it. I colored it in and still hate it to the point that I don’t even have the final version saved to my phone. It makes me feel ashamed.

But now, Mersmp has come to a close and the characters I have grown to care about so deeply have gotten their happy ending. So I wanted to give this piece that as well.

And finally, I think I can finally say I did.

I started drawing this final piece as soon as I was able to screenshot their epilogue designs. I was determined to make it right. So I sat down and drew, and drew, and drew, only taking an hour break to have dinner with a friend (don’t be like me). Finally, at 3am, eleven hours later, I was satisfied.

In this final piece are things that show just how tired I was. There are countless freckles on both characters, even under their scales! That’s a lot of dots. But wait… not the smallest. If you zoom in close enough they have pores! Much smaller than their freckles. That’s really a lot of dots! My freckle brush must have really come in clutch, right? WRONG! I dont have a freckle brush! All of this was done with one single smooth brush and I made Every. Single. Dot. Individually. That must have been pretty hard on my stylus, right? ONCE AGAIN WRONG! I don’t have a stylus! All of this was done on Ibis Paint x, a free art program, on an old janky ipad I got for free because it was so broken, all drawn with my finger. Even if I got a stylus, my ipad is too old to connect to any of them, including apple pencils.

The moral of this story is to never give up and not to let your resources limit your creativity. It doesn’t matter what medium you use, just do something to learn and keep pushing to improve. You will get there. Despite everything, you can do it.

And to the Mermp crew: Thank you for everything you have done. Through the story you have told and the community you have built, you have helped myself and others to grow in many ways. I myself learned a lot from Theo, learning that I do in fact go nonverbal at times and that does not mean there is anything wrong, and that I can feel conflicted and unsure about gender and expression. I learned I don’t need to be fixed. Just like I have now learned to look at the first redraw. I may not like it, but it is an expression of who I was at the time. Similar to Cella and Bite. Those characters may not like what they did in the past, but they are able to look back and recognize that it made them who they are today. If I always was proud of my first redraw, I may have never pressed myself to make this third one as beautiful. Thank you for the stories and lessons you have shared with us and allowing us to grow along side you and your characters.

And maybe, one day, a year or so from now, I can return to this and redraw it again, seeing what other things I enjoy in the future and how they may shape me to change.

With love, Turtle.