#i fucked up in some spots but i do not care

[cathnospam]

CW/// Bakugo is a nasty fucking pussy eater

Bakugo gets cute aggression, but he just doesn’t believe it.

He does though. Towards you.

Specifically when you’re cumming, you’re just so fucking cute. I mean look at you.

Your hips pushing against his mouth, the vibrations of his groans nearly sets your high to a new level as your ride your 2nd orgasm by his tongue.

you’re whining for him to stop licking, but when he does your big pretty eyes start to water, your lip quivers and you just barely above your breath whisper “Please.”

His red piercing eyes look up at you, sucking his lower lip, his breath his ragged on your clit before he latches back to suck on,

“Ssssuki!” You gasp, the tears began to flow, you just couldn’t help yourself each orgasm being better than the last.

When you begin to cum again Katsuki wants to feel you squirt on him, he pulls away and uses his left fingers to spread open your lips and his right 3 fingers to rub vigorously against your soft sensitive little clit.

“Ah fuck—“ He moans out seeing your left thigh twitch everytime his finger tips brush against that sweet spot, “C’mon…say my name.”

Shit he sounds so hot like that his voice is rasped and exhausted, you look down through your watery eyes to see sweat falling down his neck, eyes looking right back at you with desperation and hunger, “Say my name, c’mon..”

“Kats….uki…” You shut your eyes, all too overwhelmed you just focused your attention to what his fingers were doing to you.

“Say it again, you can do it.”

“Katsukiiiiiiii~” You let out a high pitched moan as he kissed your pussy. “Kats—“

He sees your hips slowly shaking again, you’re so so so close, and Bakugo smirks while sucking his bottom lip, “Feels good?”

“Mmhm..” Your brows furrowed, the lower half of your body feeling as if there were butterflies inside,

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You…aareeee, baby you!” Your orgasm hitting you like a truck you started crying out so loudly feeling his fingers scissor inside you, “You, baby! You Katsuki! All you! Baby—“

Bakugo quickly sucks on your pussy as you squirt uncontrollably, the fluids passing through non stop as your ride out your orgasm just made you claw on his scalp as he “licked you clean” groaning your name.

“Katsuki!” You whine, his tongue tracing his own name inside you after cumming, you’re so damn sensitive you try to wiggle away from his grasp but he was so much stronger than you he held your hips down. “Sukiiiii.”

“U…G…O…” He muttered to himself with his tongue out. You don’t know WHY he does that after he finishes eating you out, but you don’t complain. It’s kinda attractive.

He hovers over your limp, tired body, examines and admires the small marks he left on your tits before kissing your nipples, almost like his way of saying sorry, then he looks at you.

Fuck, you’re cute.

Right before he holds you he can’t help but soak in your face, it just triggers an emotion of wanting to hold you and take care of you.

Bakugo grabs your chubby wet cheeks and kisses you, so hard it almost knocks your breath away and pulls back, looks at you again a mf kisses you some more before saying,

“I’m a record your face when you cum. You should see how you look.”

Translation,

“You’re so fucking adorable it drives me insane.”

[notsocheezy]

Time to revisit this.

I'm now at five months post-op, and being moderately less hopped up on paranoia, I can approach this post much more level-headed.

I've seen inside my vaginal canal thanks to a speculum I brought home from my gyno. It's not pink in there - it wouldn't be, it's exactly the same skin as was on the outside before - but it's not so dark that it looks strange. Other than some spots that, again, looked like that before. I'm not enough of an expert on this to know what a natal vagina looks like on the inside, but maybe someday I'll check. Anyway, an expert might notice something's off but I do not care. It's mine and I like it, even if it still hurts a bit and is not fully healed. The swelling continues to go down.

Though results vary, I can confirm my colon-free cooch self lubricates and self cleans. "Stuff" can go in there, be inside for a while, become colonized by my flora, and eventually drip out. Couldn't tell you exactly how all that works, but I get wet when aroused and don't discharge all that much otherwise. In fact, I don't use pads anymore. For that matter, I suggest nobody continue using pads once there's no more blood coming out, because those fucking things chafe and stick. Your pussy juice will come out in the wash. Panties are literally designed for this. Get some cheap ones if you're worried.

Regarding UTIs, yes, there may or may not be greater risk, but I haven't had another one since treating the superbug from the hospital. I do, however, need to stay well hydrated or else experience "the pinch," which is similar to the sensation of an infection. I take cranberry pills and women's probiotics and I couldn't say how much they actually do.

The takeaway here is I'm getting happier and happier with my results. It's not perfect and there are downsides, but ultimately it's the best case scenario for me and I'm moving forward with my life. Sometimes you need to take the leap.

Yeah so anyways, contrary to popular misconceptions and fear mongering spread by bigots, post op trans women's vaginas are amazing actually. 💛

[tonycries]

After reading your ever single one the writing I have one question.

How long do you think the jjk men are? As in there length

WELL....why stop at analyzing only length? 👀👀👀

Toji - oh god, man is thick. One of the thickest here fr. Uncut. I'm thinkinggg about 8.5 inches but he says he's 9 - either way OUCH 🤕 Such a pretty creamy color, too, and so VEINY. Probably super unruly with his pubes and you'd have to 😈convince😈 him to shave it off if you wanted otherwize.

Nanami - PHEWWWWW BIG D IN THE HOUSE 😈😈 I say a good 8.6 inches and the moment he spots your pretty wedding band while pushing you into the meanest mating press then he can probably go for 9 😳 Cut, shaved, and pretty - the tips of his ears blush the same coral pink as his tip.

Geto - OUUUU so he's another thick one - double c's n' all. Probably about 7.8 - 8 inches and erm...pierced 😩 A pretty studded Prince Albert's, and he's so girthy that Geto has to have you toy with him to actually see it. Probably uncut and slightly on the unruly side like Toji but not as much, he just doesn't care too much for it when leading a cult and serving evil cunt ykyk 😔

Choso - HMHMHMMMM now either he's 7.2 inches or fucking 11 👀 Your pick 👀 Genuinely wonder what magic he could do with that cursed technique of his oml 😩 Uncut and blushes such a pretty strawberry pink - but I think he'd be pretty unruly after being kept in a jar for 150 years so. Deffo shaves and tidies himself up in an instant if you ask!!

Sukuna - girl....RIP that pussy 🤕 You think he'd be seven feet tall and NOT have a monster cock - I'm sorry but man is probably around 13 inches on both cocks 🤕🤕 YEOWCH 💀 Doesn't care too much for manscaping but- honestly- do you even have time to worry? Worry about your internal organs.

Ino - around 6.9 (hehe) to 7.1 inches and pretty UGH we have another pretty boy 😩 Not overly on the girthy side, but Ino's special power is in the way he's curved - just the exact few degrees upwards to bruise your g-spot like no other 💯 Shaved and cut I'd say and he probably thought about getting it pierced to make you feel better (awwww bby) <333

Gojo - don't even ask about his dick because he's got one to match that stupid ego of his ☹ Smh about 9.4 inches mayhaps, and cut. Not especially girthy but you know damn well he's making use of that length RIP 💀 Spends some of the most time keeping his happy trail n' his pubes kempt and oooo he's probably the one that gets the reddest of them all 😋 Like those strawberry lollies he steals from you 😋

[sturnsrecord]

꒰ — fratboy!chris & confident!reader ꒱. you meet again at a frat party — your sexy outfit, and more flirty demeanour causing feelings of attraction to stir.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't like frat parties – well for the most part. you could probably do without the cocky men and partially public sex that people took part in.

but other than that, you were in your element. flirting with anyone you spoke to, before usually finding someone who wasn't a complete piece of shit to have fun with.

about two hours in you'd already somewhat hooked up with jack again. he was eager, and no one else was tickling your fancy so you made out with him in the bathroom before he left with a smile on his face. 

as you exit the bathroom you spot chris across the room, sat on a couch with a blonde on his lap. 

now being able to place a name to the face, you had taken notice of chris quite quickly – watching as he takes a toke of his joint before holding her jaw and blowing the smoke into her mouth. 

it was obvious he did this a lot, and maybe before properly meeting him you'd seen him at parties, you just hadn’t fully noticed him. 

but now, it was very clear how popular he was – girls walking by flirtingly whilst he already had one on his lap, and another by his side. 

you began to question how you hadn’t seen him before. 

you watch as the blonde hops off his lap, kissing his cheek as he slips some sort of drug into her bra, followed by her giving him a couple of twenties.

once she's left he shoves the money into his pocket, his eyes meeting yours as a smirk appears on his lips. he nods his head a little before motioning for you to come over.

you don't think twice, strutting over confidently with a smirk on your own face. he watches your every move as you get closer, shamelessly admiring your short black dress that only just covered what it needed to. 

you sit next to him on the couch, drink in hand as you use the other to make sure your dress is still covering you.

“no t-shirt?” he mocks, eyeing up your outfit as you sit. “no sorry, not this time.” you taunt back, feigning a sad look.

“ain’ sure which fit i like better.” he murmurs, taking a swig of his beer as his eyes remain on you, all of you.

you give him a look, shaking your head slightly in amusement – a smile plastered on your face at the compliment.

you’d looked good that morning he met you, despite your obvious hangover and overall messy attire – you looked hot.

but this, god. you looked fucking incredible, short black dress and your makeup done. chris would be lying if he said it wasn’t affecting him in some way.

yeah pretty much all the girls here were pretty… but you looked ridiculously good. and it made sense now, seeing you like this all dolled up. 

he understood why you were so confident, i mean – it would be difficult not to looking like that. 

his eyes stay on your form as he slouches back, his hips shifting up a little as he gets comfortable. “have fun with jacky?” he taunts, putting his beer down on the table beside the couch. 

you look over with an unamused expression, heavily contrasting his grin. you take notice of his lidded eyes and amused smirk, assuming he was on something. 

“hmm, i did.” you respond, biting back the smile. mostly from how fucked chris was right now, different to how he was when you met him a few days ago. 

he chuckles a little, taking a drag of the joint that had been in his other hand, before offering it to you. you take it eagerly, ashing the end into the ashtray on the coffee table before bringing it to your lips. 

he's quick to look over your body as you lean over, his eyes fleeting back to meet yours when you sit back up.

you're not oblivious, you know he's checking you out. but you didn't care – and you couldn't blame him with how you looked right now. 

“you deal?” you ask, making conversation. “y’need somethin’ – what kinda shit y’into?” he asks, looking ready to sell you something already. 

you go to say no, but his willingness to sell you something off the bat has you intrigued. “what you got?” you ask, your head nodding towards him. 

he sighs, his arms extending over the back of the couch. “what d’ya want?” he asks, looking at you somewhat seriously. 

his response suggests he has almost anything anyone could as for which only fuels your intrigue. 

he clicks his teeth when you don't respond, shifting his position slightly. “you gon’ answer me or what? the fuck you want?” he repeats in a sigh.

“don't want anything.” you respond with a smile, taking a toke of the joint as you watch him roll his eyes, his arm dropping back to his side, clearly annoyed this wasn't a business opportunity for him. 

“so what – y’don't do drugs or sum shit?” he asks judgmentally, trying to figure you out in the way you were doing with him. 

you shake your head, exhaling as you do so. he immediately frowns, as if questioning why you hadn't just previously jumped at the opportunity to buy off him. 

“don’ trust my shit or somethin’?” he asks, not loving the way you were so easily pushing his buttons.

you squint your eyes at him, shrugging just to annoy him a little, with a small smirk on your face. you take a toke of the joint before passing it back to him.

he scoffs at your silent response, shaking his head a little. “you always this…” he trails off, looking over you as he takes a toke.

you tilt your head, giving him a look. “this what?” you prompt, shifting on the couch to face him a little more. 

he shrugs, clearly not wanting to share his thoughts. you take a sip of your drink, your tongue darting out into your cheek as you try and figure out what he meant. keen to know what he thought of you.

“go on, tell me.” you say, nodding towards him with a smirk on your face. “i'm a big girl, i won't get offended or anythin’.” you whisper.

he lets out a huff of amusement, thinking to himself before speaking. “it ain’ an insult.” he admits with a small grin, shifting to face you a little more. “you're jus’ very uh, sure of y’self.” he says, putting it as kindly as possible. 

“and that isn't an insult?” you taunt, raising an eyebrow at his comment. feeling a sense of judgement from him. 

“nah.” he frowns, exhaling out into the room. “i like it.” he says shamelessly, although it comes out in a murmur. 

you hum in satisfaction. “so you flirt with every girl you talk to?” you tease, picking up on the way he spoke to any girl that sat with him.

he shrugs, a dry chuckle leaving his lips. “jus’ the pretty ones.” he reaches over, picking up his beer to take another swig. 

“smooth.” you nod, your brows furrowing a little as you practically make fun of him for that line. 

he shakes his head as he puts the beer back down. “nah, you can’t do that shit t’me.” he says, almost in disbelief.

“do what?” you laugh, acting like you didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“ruin m’line like that.” he explains, his arm shifting to rest across the back of the couch. 

“your line?” you question, raising your eyebrows. “oh that was a uh, line?” you mock, pointing towards him as you speak.

he scoffs, rubbing his temple with his other hand. then he looks up, taking a deep sigh as he processed your mocking. 

he was so used to girls just melting at his words no matter what he said, but you were difficult – like flirting with you was just a challenge rather than essentially a way of manipulation.

“y’do this shit with every guy, or you jus’ bein’ difficult wit’ me?” he asks, genuinely wondering if every guy you’d slept with had to put up with your back talk before getting there. 

you shrug, giving him absolutely nothing to work with just to wind him up. and it was working. 

he scoffs, finding your attitude unbelievable. god forbid a woman not jump on him the first chance she got. 

“i only make it easy for the guys i wanna sleep with.” you chime, taking a sip of your drink as the rejection settles over him. 

he nods a little, holding onto his pride and dignity as you say that. “ouch.” he mumbles, somehow finding you funny even though you’d just rejected flirting with him. 

usually if a girl wasn’t interested he would’ve left by now, not giving her another second of his attention. unless of course she was buying off him. 

but there was something about you that drew him in, like he was convinced that you were just flirting with him and acting like you weren’t. 

but you couldn’t help it, you flirted with everyone. 

“explains how jack got y’into bed.” he retorts, insulting his friend in order to stay above the deep water of embarrassment. something he didn’t often feel.

“i think that just means i wanted to sleep with him.” you correct, bruising his ego once more.

he shakes his head, removing his arm from behind the couch to dig through his pockets, pulling out papers, tobacco and his weed wrapped in cling film. 

you watch as he begins rolling a joint, clearly frustrated with your attitude. 

“thought we got on the other day.” he mumbles, trying to make you feel bad for taking the piss out of him so much. 

but then again, he could’ve left at any point, he didn’t have to take this shit from you. 

and maybe it was the kett in his system making him less grumpy and easily annoyed, not his usual drug of choice. either that or he was still thinking he could score with you.

“we did.” you chirp, frowning slightly at the insinuation that you not wanting to fuck him meant you didn’t like him. 

he gives you a look, shrugging slightly as he rolls his joint. “so the fuck you doin’ this shit for?” he grumbles, acting like the entitled prick he was. 

“chris, is it so hard to comprehend that i’m not interested in you like that?” you ask, annoyed that he was really acting like you’d done something wrong, like you’d led him on or some shit. 

he scoffs, not even looking your way as your harsh words graze him. of course he didn’t take it personally, but that’s not to say the bruise on his ego didn’t hurt.

“that’s bullshit.” he says under his breath, clearly you’d hit a nerve. 

your face twists into confusion, his tone harsh and his comment childish. was he really gonna act like that just because you’d said no?

“you gon’ sleep with jack but not me? that’s some fucked up shit.” he mumbles, turning his head to give you a look. there was a hint of playfulness to it, like he was trying to keep it jokey, but you could see the slight annoyance in his expression. 

your lips quirk up into a small, amused smile. “why’s that?” you ask softly, your voice low as a smirk appears on your face. 

he scoffs as if it was a stupid question. “cos jack fucks f’shit.” his voice comes out in a small huff, his eyes focussed on the half rolled zoot on his lap.

“you speakin’ from experience?” you murmur, not able to help yourself from making that joke. you remain still as you speak, eyeing him from the side for his reaction. 

his head quickly turns, giving you an unamused look, like he wasn’t even gonna entertain a stupid joke like that.

you on the other hand found yourself very funny, biting back an even bigger smile. 

“not funny?” you taunt, your tongue darting into your cheek. he just glares at you, clearly bitter about the rejection and the gay joke.

“you really can't handle rejection.” you say in observation, of course making fun of him as you speak. he rolls his eyes, focussing on rolling his zoot, rather than your harsh words in his ear.

“don’ care ‘bout that.” he mutters, clearly more affected by the mocking that followed the rejection. 

“okay, i'm sorry.” you sigh, almost sounding sincere. “no more gay jokes.” you mumble with a small smile, sipping your drink to hide it. he lets out a small huff, shaking his head. your relentless mocking was almost impressive – becoming borderline amusing to him at this point.

“y’know, you're quite annoyin’ – d’you ever get that?” he snaps, turning to face you. wanting to get under your skin in the way you were getting under his. 

“i dooo, actually.” you hum, nodding along with his insult – his stupid comment making it very apparent how much you were annoying him. 

“neva thought ‘bout doin’ somethin’ with that – y’know, like not being annoyin’?” he suggests, his eyes trained on the joint on his lap.

“i have considered it.” you respond, keeping up your sarcastic attitude. he scoffs when you don't say anything else, hiding his annoyance behind an amused smile. 

“should consider' it a lil’ more.” he murmurs, making a big point of his ‘constructive’ criticism. you hum, watching him lick down the paper. “y’know what, i just might.” you speak slowly. “now that you've suggested it.” you frown – tone etched in sarcasm.

his jaw clenches a little at your sarcastic response, finding it unbearable. “you’re a reeeal fuckin’ piece of work.” he mutters, frustration bubbling over from your snappy responses. his ability to keep up and not look stupid faltering, quickly.

you only find that amusing, riling him up bringing out another level of mocking in you. of course it's rich coming from him – chris wasn't exactly a nice guy.

before you can respond with another snarky response, the girl from before returns – clearly fucked out of her mind as she slurs something towards him. 

he looks up at her with a deadpan expression, clearly still frustrated from his conversation with you.

she leans over, almost topoling over as her hand grips the back of the sofa. “your skirts a little twisted babe.” you mumble, already reaching over to fix it for her.

her reaction lags, watching as you pull it straight. “thanks giiiirl.” she giggles, before beginning to drunkenly ramble about how ‘embarrassed’ she was – much to chris’ dismay as he focuses on lighting the joint.

you don't really listen, her words more directed to chris rather than you anyway. you take that as your queue to leave, standing.

chris finally looks up, watching as you stand to leave. “oh, hope i didn't interrupt anything.” she slurs, her words clearly not sincere – not that you gave a shit what she was mumbling about.

you smile sweetly, fixing your own dress as you speak. “no, no, you're good. sit with him.” you tell her over the loud music, gently patting her hip in a soft manner.

she smiles, mumbling something else before taking a seat on the couch – her legs draping over chris’ lap as she drunkenly sits. you catch a glimpse of chris, his expression still hard.

but he's watching you, paying no mind to the girl now on his lap as his eyes follow your form – watching you walk away. that stern look not budging.

꒰ notes ꒱ building the foundation for this au 😝. get excited gang, I have a lot planned !!

꒰ taglist ꒱ @iizzyyy @sophsturns @strnilolover @sturniolossss @hearts4sturniolo @emely9274 @dominicfikeenthusiast @m6lancholiaa @dylansfavwife @conspiracy-ash @chrattsbestgirl @harrystylestigertattoo @radiohead722 @urnumberonefangirl @chaossturns @sturnina @nickgurl4life @mattsgirlxoxo @iloveduckssm

©sturnsrecord

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

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y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

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taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

[ecto-american]

I work in electrical substations, and I'm fourth generation doing this kind of work. So I wanna give more information.

There is an unbelievable amount of safety systems in place, and honestly, it's akin to how an electrical substation works. But to be honest, the safety around the portal in my opinion really depends on how much electrical knowledge FentonWorks has.

This is primarily a ramble honestly with no real point besides providing some more information and insight related to electrical safety so I'll readmore.

Overall, we don't really know what kind of electrical engineering background the Fentons have have. It's never clearly stated. Electricity is insanely dangerous. It's incredibly easy to fuck up. All of our safety protocols are written in ashes, not blood, because electricity can so easily literally burn you into ashes. Especially at high voltage.

The kind of project the Fentons work on would require an indepth knowledge, so I'd assume that they have electrical background to some degree beyond the basics.

This is the blueprints we see for the portal in the theme song.

Obviously, this is just for the actual construction of the ghost portal itself. This isn't related to the electrical parts at all. Those prints are set up completely different. My point here is NOT that they don't know how to set up an electrical print; the point is that this is just not an electrical print for context.

For a 66kv/111kv electrical substation

For a household water heater

Basically, if you're working with electricity, this is the kind of blueprints you're looking at. This is the kind of diagram that tells you how to properly wire the devices. And this has been the standard since at least the 50s. I work in substations built as early as the 40s, and the prints are the exact same format. We can also assume cartoon logic as most people know what blueprints look like. I doubt the average viewer would know what these are.

I'm stating this too because it's another way of saying that like. We honestly genuinely cannot tell for sure how the Fenton Portal is wired since we don't see the diagrams, and we're not able to be there physically in person to determine how and why. It's impossible to truly tell what the actual purpose of that button is. It definitely looks like a safety stop button, and I think the OP provides a super good case for it. Based on the image the OP provided, I'm assuming OP took this from a gas or water utility company, which is similar to electrical but electrical is a bit different.

But from an electrical substation perspective, there's no real safety on/off switch. If you're needing to remove power, you're not often turning a switch off. You're adding a grounding wire or you're pulling fuses. Safety switches aren't really a thing (or at least, I've never seen one in a substation before), but this is also a private household and NOT an electrical substation, so I'd assume that the Fentons WOULD have one. And if so, I definitely think that they'd have one similarly to what OP noted.

An important but unrelated thing I also wanna note to is like. You guys do realize that people are human who make mistakes? A lot of people talk about the Fenton Portal under the assumption that Jack and Maddie were completely ignoring safety standards.

Wiring a huge project like a Fenton Portal would be a long, tedious, difficult process. It takes my job months to do install a new piece of equipment at the substation, because it's a slow process. You have to be careful. Every step has to be checked after completion. Troubleshooting has to happen. Certain parts have to be fully depowered in order to work on it safely, and sometimes you have to find a way to keep power going so you can work on it so it's a process to figure out how to jump power for safe working.

There's literally thousands of wires, hundreds of terminals, tens of panels. A single bad wire can stump a crew, and it could be that the guy wired it to the wrong spot, that the connection is bad. If the wire itself it bad, depending on the wire, it's a whole working day process to pull it out and run a new one because of how complex, tight, dangerous, etc, it is. We get (mildly) shocked all the time because it's just the nature of the job.

We specifically see that the FentonWorks Portal wasn't working, and they took a break when Danny decided to investigate. Any number of thing could be wrong. I don't think that the Fentons specifically forgot about the emergency off button, but that they didn't know what the issue was. There could be hundreds of things that went wrong, and they hadn't gotten to the point of troubleshooting this yet. Literally a singular wire could be bad because it's a bad wire, bad connection from the wire to the lug, bad connection from the lug to the terminal, bad terminal connection, bad terminal, etc.

Also additionally, just for some lowkey fun: We all see shots of the inside of the portal looking like this (all from Memory Blank)

Do you know what this kind of looks like to me? Kind of reminds me a lot of how the outside of electrical substation control panels look and operate.

Depending on what level of knowledge they have and experience, I could see some of the lines not just being cool technology showcases, but a common electrical substation practice: we use markers or tape to basically copy the electrical print line diagram on the outside of the panels to help visually identify what's going on and where/how things are connected.

Even the kind of cable that's being run looks exactly like the kind of cable used in most substations.

It was a safety switch

So I'm actually obsessed with the idea that the "on" button Danny hit going into the portal wasn't actually an on button like one you get in a computer.

In basically any legally compliant workspace where I am (and I think in the western world broadly) you get these big red EMERGENCY STOP buttons that tend to be every few feet and on every machine so if something goes wrong people don't have to run far to make what ever's going wrong stop going wrong

Now to me that thing looks pretty much exactly like this thing

With a different layout, but the big red button is the subject of interest

Jack and Maddie seem to have cartoon consistency in their lab safety protocols, which checks out honestly given that's what they are, but It makes sense to me that they didn't so much put the ON button on the inside of the portal as that they flipped the power off to finish the final checks on the portal and then

Forgot About The Emergency Stop

(Incase people dont know, emergency stop buttons stop all the machinery it's attatched to. This can be anything from Only One Machine to literally an entire floor or building depending on the levels of "oh shit everything needs to stop RIGHT NOW." They're usually 'released' at a seperate point which can be anything from the keys in the panel above to a seperate button/keypad. Or, like the ones we had in our high school, the original red button that was pushed but you had to twist it to get it to pop back up. Kind of like a weird child lock)

So I'm proposing that the Fenton Parents, instead of being idiots in their planning and putting the on switch somewhere insane when they were drawing the schematics, actually built in a safety feature they forgot they tripped

Essentially, the Fenton parents were EXTRA safe in their lab and it half killed Danny

[writingsbytee]

SEXUAL HEALING

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNING / TRIGGERS: Reader is DEPRESSED, no thoughts of self harm or un-aliving herself. Babygirl is just having a depressive episode. Depressed themes, Sexual themes, explicit sexual content; dirty talk; soft Dom,

SUMMARY: Reader is depressed and Terry fucks her out of it

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minora please don’t interact!*

 *Also, this is complete fiction. I'm writing about the reader’s depression simply based on my experiences and knowledge of depression. I’m in NO WAY saying that this is what depression is for every individual. This is a safe space. If you or someone you know is struggling with their mental health please reach out to your local crisis center so that they can provide resources. Read with care. Love you guys <3*

This hasn’t been proofread

You groaned as your phone rang yet again, reaching out from under your blankets, your hand blindly slapping your bedside table in search of the device. Checking to see who called, a pained sigh leaves your lips. Terry, your boyfriend called you 4 times in the past hour. Deciding to put him out of his misery you answer the call.

“Hello?”, you say, not even bothering to hide the quiver in your voice.

“Babygirl? What’s wrong?,” Terry asked, his voice sounding frantic. 

A watery sigh leaves your lips, “I’m having a moment Terry, I’ll be ok. It’s just taking a little bit longer for me to come out of it.” 

I hear Terry’s door shut on the other line, “I’m on my way sweet girl, Daddy’s coming”

A muffled sob leaves your mouth at Terry’s words. Always willing to stop whatever he’s doing to help you fight the demons constantly plaguing your mind. Religious therapy and an antidepressant regimen seemed to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Every now and then the debilitating thoughts would come back rendering you useless. Your apartment desperately needed a deep clean as well as your room. Your bed becoming a cesspool, you slept, ate, and cried in the same spot for a little over a week now. 

Rolling onto your back you let out a deep sigh, wanting to be normal and not a basket case full of emotions. 

45 MINUTES LATER

You could hear your front door open and close, signaling that Terry arrived. You heard him set bags down in your kitchen before his light footfalls made his way to your room. He knocked twice before peeking his head in. Terry’s small smile dropped when he saw the state of you and your room. It broke his heart to see you this way.

“Aww honey, I’m here,” Terry said walking toward you. Tear tracks making their way down your face and silent sobs wracked your body.

“I’m so sorry, Terry. I didn’t mean to make you come all the way down here,” You said, covering your face with your hands. Terry gently grabbed your hands, removing them from your face. 

“Sweet girl, never apologize because the air gets a little too heavy for you. That’s why I’m here to take some of the load off,” Terry said with a small smile. Your  gentle green-eyed giant, you  grabbed your glasses, putting them on.

You brought a hand up to his cheek, “You’re too good for this world Terry Richmond. Thank you, for being what I never knew I needed,” you say with all the sincerity you can muster. 

Terry’s eyes shine with unshed tears, “you’ll never have to go through these feelings alone again. Baby when I said I wasn’t going anywhere I meant that. You’re stuck with me sweetheart,” Terry finishes, with a watery smile of his own. He gently raises me into a sitting position.

“Here’s what I want you to do. I brought you your favorite body wash shampoo, conditioner and those wax things you like so much. Go take a shower, wash your hair,pamper yourself. I’m going to get started on your sheets. Okay babygirl?”, he asked. Your eyes practically turned into hearts looking at Terry. 

A small smile formed on your lips as you said a gentle, “Okay, Daddy.”

His smile widened, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “There’s my girl. Now go get cleaned up, I’ll take care of everything else.” You nodded, rising slowly, and made your way into the bathroom. You didn’t dare glance at yourself in the mirror. Not in the mood for the thoughts to take hold again. Turning on the shower as hot as it would get you stepped in, ready to wash the bad thoughts away. 

Meanwhile, Terry was in your room replacing your dirty sheets, putting them in the wash, and tidying up around your apartment. He hated that he couldn’t save you from your thoughts, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. He understood that everyone’s trauma affected them differently. His put him in attack mode, while yours forced you to shut down. 

As you washed your hair, you could feel your sense of self slowly returning. You found peace in taking care of yourself. Detangling your curls felt as if you were brushing away all the bad thoughts. Exfoliating was like scrubbing away your impurities, leaving you shiny and new. You don’t know why you couldn’t muster up the strength to take the 15 foot walk to your bathroom. But that’s depression in a nutshell, making the most mundane tasks feel like climbing mount everest. You spent at least an hour in the bathroom, when you emerged you felt like a different person. Your heart warmed at the sight of your room, new sheets adorned your bed with a new hello kitty plushie and pajama set.

Exiting your room, you start searching for your boyfriend. Finding him in your living room playing your favorite vinyl and watering your plants. You will yourself not to cry at Terry’s selflessness, you just run up behind him wrapping his torso in a hug. 

“Hey, baby. Feeling better?”he asks, turning to face you. You place a kiss right above his heart, looking up at him you nod.

“Yeah honey, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you” you say, staring up at him adoringly.  

Terry pet your head lovingly, “Let’s hope you never have to find out. Now go make yourself comfortable, I ordered your favorite vietnamese take-out and I’m going to rub your feet until it gets here.”

A warm gooey feeling spreads from your head to your toes. A slow grin taking over your face at your adonis of a boyfriend takes care of your body, mind, and soul. Settling into your sectional, you wiggle your toes playfully urging him closer. Terry chuckles through his nose, making his way toward you. Sliding down beside you , he grabbed both of your legs, placing them on his lap.

“Relax baby, Daddy’s here now and I’m going to take care of you,” Terry said, running his hands up your bare calves. His touch warms your skin instantly. A content sigh leaves your lips as you rest your head on the arm of your sofa.

“Good girl,” Terry said, grabbing your right foot. He began slowly, just caressing your feet adding a tickle here and there pulling small giggles from your lips. Terry started to work on your foot starting slowly on your instep, applying light pressure. Then he moved to your arch applying pressure that was almost painful, causing a gasp to leave your lips.

“You’ve got a knot here, be patient I’ll work it out,” Terry said, digging in deeper. An involuntary moan leaves your lips, the release of the tenson expelling through your lips. Terry smirked, his plan was working. This kept going for a while, Terry expertly massaging your feet, and you moaning like he was massaging somewhere else. You're getting wetter by the minute. 

The doorbell interrupts your massage as a groan leaves your lips, “I was just starting to relax,” you whined.  Terry lets out a chuckle before getting up. Leaning to kiss your forehead, “You’ll have plenty of time to relax later, trust me.” And with that, he heads toward the door to grab the food. Terry doesn’t let you lift a finger while he plates the food for you two. Just advising you to find something “good to watch.” With a smirk, you put on your favorite show at the moment, ‘True Blood.’ Terry liked the show surprisingly, being the first of your boyfriends to take an interest in YOUR interests. What he didn’t like was how googly-eyed you got over Alcide. As trivial as it was, he wasn't going to sit and watch you drool over another man. 

Plating your food,

Terry brought it to you. Plopping down next to you on the couch with a plan in mind, Terry just sat back and watched you enjoy your food. A small satisfied sigh leaves your lips at the first bite. 

“Mmm, it’s so good! Thank you baby” you say, leaning in to kiss Terry’s cheek. He could feel his cheeks warm at your gratitude, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing. Your breath hitched when Terry’s hand refused to leave your thigh. Instead tracing small circles while you ate. 

After finishing your food you and Terry cuddled up on your sofa with a blanket. Rubbing his chest you say, “Thank you for everything Terry, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Terry looks down at you grasping your chin forcing your brown eyes to meet his mossy green ones. “I’m just doing my job baby. What kind of man would I be if I let my woman suffer alone? I’m here for you, I love you, and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of.” Terry’s hand migrated to the back of your neck, pulling you in excruciatingly slow. He watched your face change. Eyes become low, lips parting, and your breathing turns shallow. 

Terry inches impossibly closer, your lips a hair’s width apart, “What do you want, pretty girl?”

“Kiss me, please?” you ask, fingers coming up to grip his t-shirt. A small devious smirk makes its way onto Terry’s face as he leans down, lips brushing against yours. The anticipation is killing you. You two were practically sharing the same breath, yet Terry wouldn’t close the gap and lay one on you. 

“Please, Daddy? Let me thank you, I’ve been good haven't I?” you ask, looking up at Terry with the doe eyes that he loves so much. 

A groan leaves his lips as Terry places your bowl on the coffee table “You know what that look does to me, baby. C’mere,” and then his lips are on you. A surprised moan leaves your lips as you pull Terry closer, sucking his lips between yours. He grabs your hips positioning you on his lap, right atop his growing bulge. 

“How are you feeling honey, still sad? What can Daddy do?” Terry asks, his hand grasping and pulling at the fat of your ass. Grinding you against thick dick. 

“Touch me, please Daddy”, you whine. You could feel yourself soaking through the seat of your sleep shorts, having forgone underwear. Terry smiles against your lips, “I am touching you pretty girl”. Pulling back for air, you move your attention to his thick neck. Placing wet open mouthed kisses there migrating up to his ear, nipping and sucking at the lobe. You hear Terry’s breath stutter drawing a smile from your lips. Terry pulls back in time to see the bright dopey smile on your face and he places a kiss on your nose.

Pulling your shirt over your head, Terry's eyes lock on plump mahogany breasts and chocolate nipples. 

“Fuck, pretty girl. You’re not playing fair,” Terry says, head dropping onto the back of the sofa. A soft giggle leaves your lips. You slither up Terry’s body like a cat in heat, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“C’mon Daddy don’t you wanna feel how wet I am for you? Just for you,” you whisper into Terry’s ear, finishing with a lick. A small ‘fuck’ leaves Terry’s lips as his hand comes cracking down on your ass forcing a small yelp to leave your lips. 

“Keep that up baby and I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for,” Terry said, playing with your shorts. Pulling them halfway down to jiggle your ass or tugging them high up your ass giving your clit the much needed friction you craved. You two were making out like porn stars, sloppily, lips glistening with spit. You pulled back to look at Terry, his eyes half mast filled with need and desire for you. You’re positive your face looks the same. Terry picks you up off his lap, setting you next to him on the sofa as he gets up. Turning on your sunset lamp and turning off the lights to create an ethereal glow around your living room. Then he moves pieces of your sectional together making it a day bed of some sort. 

“Strip babygirl, I want you naked by the time I get back,” Terry commands, then picks up your leftovers, and heads back to the kitchen. It was embarrassing how fast you threw the sticky shorts off. Your pussy was talking and Terry hadn’t even touched you yet. As you wait for Terry, you start massaging your tits. Nipples forming tight peaks, tugging and pulling creates a throb you feel straight down to your clit.  Small moans started leaving your lips. The ache between your thighs growing almost painful as you whined, waiting for your man to return and fuck you stupid. After five minutes you almost debate finding him.

“Terrrrryyyy,” you cry out. When you get no response you peek over your shoulder, when you don’t see him you decide to start on your own. Sliding your hands down your body, you’re about to reach your pussy when Terry’s hand grabs yours, pulling a gasp from you. 

“I said strip, when did I tell you to touch my pussy?”Terry's looking down his nose at you. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy I need you please!” You whine, sitting up. Terry makes his way around the sofa looking like a lion stalking his prey. He stands in front of you crossing his arms, a cup in one hand. 

“Spread those legs for me mama,let me see my pussy,” Terry said. Your legs fell open immediately the quiet ‘schlick’ heard between the two of you. Terry’s eyes darken, the color of a stormy sea and he takes a step toward you. 

“Hands behind your back sweetheart, you know the drill,” Terry purrs, crawling on the sofa. Taking a long sip from his cup before setting it down. Like an obedient little slut you put your hands behind your back with a small smile on your face, “Like this papa?” you asked. 

Terry dropped his head and groaned, “I’m trying to make you wait babygirl, I’m two seconds away from burying my face in that sweet pussy,” Terry said, his voice sounding like he was in pain. 

“C’mon papa look at how ready she is for you, she couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on her,” you scooched your ass further down the sofa, practically planting your pussy on his chin. With a growl, Terry was on top of you, hand clutching your cunt. 

Terry started massaging your clit with his fingers releasing a relieved moan from your lips. 

“Unh Terry, it feels good!” you said, head thrown back, and your back arched. 

A devilish smile formed on Terry’s lips. He loved the sounds you made when he played with you. 

“Make that sound again baby,” Terry said, tonguing your nipple. 

“Unh! Daddy!Take your pants off please. I want to feel you” you moan, gripping Terry’s neck. Pulling him down to lock your lips. Terry explored your pussy like it was his first time. Experimenting with how wet he could make you. Sliding his pants and boxers down he freed his monster of a dick. 

“I’m going to fuck you baby,but first tell me how bad you want it” Terry said, his finger picking up the pace on your clit.

“I want you so bad Terry,” you say leaning up to peck his lips over and over. 

A small chuckle leaves his lips, “Yeah? How bad? Let Daddy know sweetheart.” Terry’s working your clit between his fingers, the slick sounds permeating through your home. 

“Fuck Daddy I want you to take care of me like you always do . You’re such a good provider, always making sure I have what I need! Ouuu! Baby, right there! Yes! You’re going to make me cum, fuck!,” You moan out, your voice rising in pitch letting Terry know you were close. 

“Then come on my tongue sweet girl,” Terry leans down and takes your clit in his mouth. Your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your breath staccatos

“You look so pretty, baby. I love how wet this pussy gets for me. You ganna let Daddy fuck the bad thoughts away. Want me to make it feel better sweetie. Because I can, you know Daddy can help,” Terry slips two fingers into, causing your soul to leave your body. 

Combined with his suction on your clit, you stood no chance against the orgasm that rocked your body. “Oouuu Terry! Yesssss!”, you moaned as Terry worked your orgasm out of you.

“That’s right pretty girl, give me that orgasm,” Terry said, adding another finger. You were beyond seeing stars at this point. There was a full milky way galaxy dancing behind your eyes. Terry had a dark smirk on his face, loving the effect he had on you. He loved making you come, how you gave yourself over to him completely. He was surprised when you forced his fingers out of your pussy, a harsh stream of liquid following. A high pitched moan left your lips as your body shook.

“Yes Honey! That’s it!” Terry moaned, slapping your clit a few times. Your body shook and shuddered in the aftermath of your orgasm. Vision hazy as you tried to center yourself. Terry stripped off his clothes and hovered over you, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“Hey, look at me baby,”Terry brought his finger to your face caressing you. Your eyes refocused on Terry’s soft ones, a small smile forming on your lips. Terry mirrored your expression, leaning down to press his lips against yours in a passionate sloppy kiss. Teeth and tongues clashing in a frantic meet of mouths. Both of you are trying to convey your love for one another. 

“Papa, I need you inside me” you wine against Terry’s lips. Terry doesn’t need to be told twice, he positions himself at your entrance and eases in. Both your lips part, needy moans releasing from your lips.

“Terry, Terry, Terry! Oh my god!” You moan as he sets a punishing rhythm. Punching your cervix with the fat mushroom head of his dick. You lose yourself in the feeling of being fucked by him. 

“How’s that feel baby, can you feel how much Daddy loves his sweet girl?” Terry asked. How he could ask you questions while digging your shit out like this is beyond you. You just moan and nod, his thrusts stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Words baby. I need to hear you say it. You’ll do that for daddy won’t you?” Terry asks, bringing his hand up to your throat applying slight pressure. The delicious feeling pulling a needy whine from your lips. Terry was hitting all your spots and you couldn’t think.

“Yes daddy, I feel it. I love it. I love you,” you moan your eyes slowly making their descent to the back of your skull. Terry loved when you started babbling on his dick, saying any and everything to please him. And please him it did. 

Terry felt like a man possessed, your pleasure the only thing on his mind determined to coax as many orgasms out of you as possible. He was going at you like a man on a mission. The push and pull, the slick sounds of him going in and out of your pussy driving him insane.  

“I love you more baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with the dark thoughts, but I’m here now Daddy’s ganna fuck the depression out of you,” Terry said raising one of your knees so he could hit you even deeper.

You bring your hands up, grabbing Terry’s ass pulling him deeper inside you. “Baby you’re going to make me cummm!,” you moan out. Terry moans in your ear, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss. Terry releases your lips, leaning back to look at you. 

“Open your eyes pretty girl, I love the way you look when you come for me,” Terry was long past close. He wanted to cum so bad, but he wouldn’t, not until he felt your velvet walls pulse around his thick dick. 

“Cum with me Daddy! I need to feel you fill me up!,” You say reaching for Terry’s ears, rubbing them softly. Terry’s eyes start to roll in the back of his head. He loves it when you play with his ears.

“You’re so good to me Daddy, always taking care of me. You’re making me feel so good, thank you Daddy! Thank you for fucking the depression out of…” you never got to finnish your sentence. Orgasm hitting you like a bus. Terry was ejected from your pussy with the force, you squirted so hard your vision went white as a high pitched moan left your lips. Terry started in awe. He stood above you jerking his dick.

“Fuck that was so sexy baby I’m about to come,” Terry said. That all too familiar ache forming in his abdomen. Balls heavy and tight with the need to release. Your eyes regained their focus in just enough time to watch Terry erupt all over you. Painting you with his cum, a small smile formed on your face as his warm release landed on your breasts, tummy and legs. 

“Mm that was a big one daddy, thank you,” you moan, collecting his essence to taste. A moan leaves your lips as the salty, earthy musk hits your taste buds. Terry leans down, placing another kiss to your lips. 

“How do you feel now babygirl?” Terry asks, using the spare napkins to clean you up. 

You place a kiss on Terry’s cheek, “Much better Daddy, but I think I’m still a little sad” you said, smirking up at him. Terry shakes his head at you with a playful smile on his lips.

“Well you better go grab us some waters babygirl, I’m not done with you yet,” Terry said before lifting you over his shoulders to carry you to your room.

THE END <3

I think this might be the fastest I’ve ever written anything. I just really wanted to create a vulnerable piece, and I LOVE how this piece turned out. This is supposed to be a one shot but that’s TBD as of now. As always constructive criticism is encouraged but please take it easy on me, I’m sensitive.

TAGLIST: 

@blackgurlnhermoods @megamindsecretlair @dxddykenn @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrish @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @kianaleani @uzumaki-rebellion @urfavblackbimbo @shallipii @greatpandagladiator @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @pocketsizedpanther @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @nayaesworld @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melalsworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @sweettea-and-honeybutter @diaries-of-me @simplyzeeka @kumkaniudaku

[to-the-stars8]

The Wayne's Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

The Nanny's Ballet

As Cassandra lept and twirled her way to the car, you egged her on until you spotted two men across the parking lot slowly making their way toward the two of you. You should have known that it wouldn’t have been safe to go without Bruce or Alfred–Yet, you insisted that you hadn’t needed either of them. The ballet school was in a relatively safe part of town and there were lights all around the parking lot, so you assumed there would be no trouble. Especially since Batman and Robin frequently patrolled this part of town. 

You called Cassandra back to you, putting yourself between her and the approaching men. Putting the keys into her hands, you instructed her to run to the car if anything were to happen. She only nodded before grabbing onto the back of your skirt.

“Give us your purse,” One of the men said upon approach. 

You threw your bag far enough away that it would create some distance between you and the men, letting you push Cassandra closer to the car. The other man grabbed your wrist, twisting it in a way that made you cry out in pain, as he demanded your jewelry. 

“That little girl had some nice earrings,” The guy who grabbed your purse said. 

You ordered Cassandra to get into the car and lock it, which she did without question. You fought against the two men, hitting one in the face with your fist as you attempted to kick the other one. 

You cried out again when one of them hit you in the stomach, making you double over in pain. No sooner had they done that did you hear one of them begin to scream. You looked up, seeing a black mass moving with ease and somehow avoiding all the light. Your heart leaped into your throat, but you looked back to the car to see Cassandra looking back at you through the driver’s window. Taking the opportunity, you ran to the car and got in, throwing it into reverse as you swerved out of the parking lot. 

“Are you okay?” You asked breathlessly. Your head was still spinning from the hit to the stomach and your wrist felt like it was throbbing. Cassandra nodded her head, looking a bit too calm, but you supposed that she was doing it for your benefit. “It’s okay. We’ll be home soon.”

When you pulled into the driveway Mr. Wayne was already standing there, looking a bit more panicked than usual. He grabbed Cassandra from the car and urged you to follow, telling you how he had just gotten a call from the police. 

Your bag had been dropped off at the station by none other than Batman, and he had informed them that you were the nanny for the Wayne family. Commissioner Gordon had even called the house himself. 

“I don’t care about the bag,” You said sternly. If Cassandra wasn't there, Bruce was sure you would have put the word ‘fuck’ somewhere in there. “Let’s just get Cassie changed and comfortable.” 

Bruce put Cassandra on the ground once the three of you were through the door, asking her if she was okay and her responding with a confident, “Yup!” 

You wanted to be shocked, but you were still too jumpy to think more of it. With a pat on the back, Bruce sent her on her way with Alfred. It was then you sighed loudly, “I think I need to sit down.”

“Come into the kitchen, then,” Mr. Wayne said, putting his hand on the small of your back as he guided you. 

You dropped onto the wooden chair at the little kitchen table, feeling a bit drained suddenly. Mr. Wayne walked over to the fridge and pulled out a frozen bag of peas, which you would have laughed at if not for the exhaustion. He grabbed at your tender wrist, pressing around it lightly. You winced, feeling the throbbing sensation return as he touched you. 

“Nothing’s broken,” He said as he slid the bag of peas under your wrist.

“Good,” You said quietly. Sniffling, you continued, “Cassandra, are you sure she’s alright?”

Bruce nodded as he sat, letting out a little grunt as he did. You were sure he never noticed he made such sounds when he stood or sat. “My girl has seen worse, unfortunately.”

You didn’t want to ask, and you were sure Bruce wouldn’t tell. He scooted his chair closer towards yours, his eyes moving over your body slowly. It made you feel uncomfortable like he knew what you looked like naked. 

“See somethin’?” You asked as you folded your arms over yourself. 

“Oh,” Bruce sat up straight, acting like he had been caught. “I wasn’t…I was just looking for any other injuries.”

You rubbed your stomach, remembering how the breath left your body for a split second when that punched you before you glanced down at your wrist. Bruce touched your knee, making you jump, and he pulled his hand away. 

“Sorry…”

You shook your head, trying not to cry, as you said, “It’s okay. I’m just a bit on edge right now. I should get ready to go to the police station—”

“I’ll pick it up. You need to go upstairs and rest…Look at me,” Mr. Wayne said as he stood. You looked up at him, eyes going wide for a moment as you realized how much you liked hearing him talk to you like that. “It’ll be okay. Cassandra and the kids will be okay. You will be okay. Understand?”

You nodded, sucking in a breath, before standing. You felt determined to forget tonight for a solid ten seconds until the emotion of it all hit you. It was then you burst into tears and grabbed onto Mr. Wayne. You cried into his chest as he awkwardly reciprocated the hug. 

“It was so horrible, Mr. Wayne!” You exclaimed. “I hope Batman gave them what they deserved. They could have seriously hurt Cassandra! My poor girl.”

“Nan? Are you okay?” You both turned to see Jason, along with Cassandra, standing in the kitchen doorway. She whispered something into his ear which made him hurry across the room with arms open. You knelt to meet him, arms open, before holding him close to you. 

Jason rubbed his small hands on your back in an attempt to comfort you, and Cassandra, who was not far behind in joining the hug, joined him. 

“We got you, Nan,” Jason whispered. 

You felt such joy hearing those words and hugged the two of them tighter, urging Mr. Wayne to get in on the hug. He did hesitantly, coming up behind the kids and wrapping his arms around the three of you. 

“I love you kids so much,” You said. 

You pressed a kiss onto the kids’ heads before you caught Mr. Wayne’s eyes. He gave you a soft smile and you felt your heart skip a beat. 

Oh, you finally realized, you really were starting like your boss.

[dollyichi]

JUST SHUT UP!

kirishima eijirou always talks you through it. maybe a bit too much. ᯓ★ 1.8k words. m—dni. f ! reader / established relationship / f!ngering / unprotected (don’t be like them!) / reader’s very impatient and a little mean / sappy in one bit / not proofread

eijirou who’s doing his best to ignore his own cock that’s all twitchy and needy. already leaking with so much pre his cute red boxers had a big damp spot that you unfortunately couldn’t see. you’re laying on your chest with your ass up for him. face buried into the pillows as you bite into the cushion every time his fingers teased your hole.

however, he’s so fucking talkative it’s pissing you off. “baby you touched yourself lots didn’t ya?” he says with a huff, angling his fingers to that sweet spot you like so much. you groan into the pillow, grasping on the sheets. “you’re so wet and soft you don’t even realize i have three fingers in.”

“h-hahh! kiri just put i-it in… f-fuck-” you’re so sure your mouth is covered in your own spit from how long he’s kept you in that position. kneading your ass with one hand, fucking your pussy with the other. his fingers always felt better than your own and anything you use on it but it’s never enough when he can just fuck you with his dick.

“you mad at me baby? you don’t call me kiri remember?”

wasting so much time, unnecessary riling you up when you’ve been ‘so good’ for him preparing yourself so he could just jump you when he came over but no, he’s taking his sweet, sweet time prepping and fingering you as he pleased.

“don’t bite the pillow baby, i wanna hear you.” it’s so condescending almost. leaning over, whispering in your ear while his fingers continue to reach further and further. “come on, tell me how much you like it, wanna hear you some more.” this was probably the third time he’s ever fucked you ever since you’ve been together. the first time was nice, the second time was even better. a week has gone by and he was just so occupied that you made yourself busy.

you’re sick of doing it all alone and even when you mewl and whine, telling him whatever he’s doing ‘isn’t necessary anymore’ he refuses and tells you “awe hold on a little more i gotta do this for you baby~ just wanna take care of you.” and you huff and squeal, hiding your face away because you’ve really had enough. “searched up on it so i can make you feel even better.”

you really wonder how he gathered so much confidence in just a week when the past two encounters were him acting all shy. but then again, he could say the same for you. suddenly pulling him in a kiss and turning around so he could finally hold and touch you… though less holding as you wished.

he’s touched you so much you’re more sensitive than ever. you’ve lost all strength in your hands while you knees start to shake. “fuck baby your pussy’s so naughty. even louder than that pretty mouth of yours.” you don’t even know if your eyes are rolling back cause you’re so overwhelmed or frustrated. “you’re taking s’damn long eiji…” you croaked out, trying to lower your hips so you could turn around but he gets grip on you.

“hah… wanna fuck you so bad.” you whimper, moving your hips against his fingers to get some type of release. “wanna do it like this baby? or you wanna see your boyfriend make a mess of you?”

“wan-want to see you… eiji… p-please?” you ask with tearful eyes, looking back at him while your mouth quivers. he immediately gives in when he sees the drool at the corner of your lips. he pulls out his fingers and it’s still so slow.

he turns you around with ease, laying you down properly. kissing you all over your face, moving your hair out of the way. “i’m sorry baby i teased you too much didn’t i?”

you click your tongue, “you’re a d-dummy.” he chuckles, bringing his hand to your face that’s covered in slick. “you looked so good i wanna eat you out.”

“i’ll kill you if you make me wait again.” you sneer.

he takes his cock out of his boxers, teasing them in between your folds while he sucked on his fingers. “hahh baby you taste so good.”

“bet you’re just gonna gush around my cock when i finally put it in.” you wished he just shut up. “look how easy my cocks gliding through, so damn wet.” god you really wanted to shut him up.

so you swat his hand away from his own cock, lining him up yourself and pushing slightly, already engulfing his tip inside. he’s already moaning when he gets the feel of your walls clamping around him. “n-no baby~ i didn’t get to put a condom!”

you’re wrapping your legs around his waist and he had no choice but to move. his inches getting further and further up inside. breathy moans escaped his lips cause you’re still so tight even when he fingered you longer this time.

when he’s fully in a whimper escape his lips. ducking his head at the side of your neck, staying still for just a little while because he was sure he was gonna cum right there. “s-shit… your pretty little cunt’s just so good for me baby. s’too good for me.” your wrap your hands around him. a hand rubbing the back of head. it was sweet, as if you were the one comforting him. but you never recalled caring even a little bit.

you move by yourself, bucking your hips upwards, making sure you feel all of him. “s-s’big eiji~” he hisses when he’s balls deep in. and you’re moaning so sweetly whenever his tip hit that extra special spot that only his cock can reach.

“hnghh no baby don’t move y-yet~ just wait a little bit-“ as if you were gonna listen to him like he refused you earlier. your grip on his is just so deliciously tight he’s really gathering whatever strength he has in his head to not cum. definitely not manly when his lover doesn’t cum first.

“please s-stop baby i’ll move okay? we’ll p-pace it out together.” and you don’t listen. again pathetically rutting up against him. but he stops you just in time with his hands on your hips. pushing it down while he tries to distract himself by the wallpaper you have in your room.

you groan in his ear, whispering how much you needed him. complaining about how much he teased you, how he’s wasting so much time. “eiji just fuck me.” god even your voice alone’s gonna make him cum.

eijirou takes a breath through his nose, proceeds to leave kisses at the sides of your head as he finally thrusts.

in and out, in and out. you’re already scratching at the skin of his back. “h-ahh you love this baby? w-when i- when i f-fuck you like this?”

you hum, knowing your voice would break if you even muster up a sentence. your eyes flutter when he angled his hips. he’s just so deep inside. “could do this forever you know? fucking into your pussy.”

“pretty baby say my name so i can fuck you e-even harder.” he grunts. breathy and short while he’s busying his mind. it was a week for him you know? a week without you—he didn’t think he’d be this reactive to you. “e-eiji~” it’s so adorable to think how you were acting all mean earlier. “mhm baby. gonna fuck you so well to make up for lost time.”

eijirou’s jaw clenches with every thrust, building up the momentum, hips rolling against your that has you weaker and weaker. the sounds of your sex all wet and gushing around the room while the creaks of the bed echoed. you were sure of it that if any of your next-door neighbors were at home they’d hear you both fucking like rabbits. he’s fucking into you so hard you’re almost worried that the headboard would snap in half.

“i love you so much baby.” he’s so damn cute. you couldn’t help but sniffle on his shoulder. burying your face at the crook of his neck while he continued to exclaim his affection.

you admit, your impatience was just a facade under all that sadness you built up over the week. one message a day, no calls, an empty bed space, a lonely dinner—you’ve missed him so much. touching yourself was even worse because all you could see when you close your eyes is your lover talking to you. finally in such a warm embrace you’re hearing him. but in your defense, he just talks to much (you don’t hate it though!)

just a few more thrusts you knew the tight knot in your tummy’s going to snap any second. the more frantic you’re grasping onto him the easier he knew just how close you were. “tell me how it feels baby~”

“i love it!” was all that got out of you. repeatedly in between soft screams and whines. sobbing underneath him while you’re waiting for your release. “th-think i’m gonna cum too baby.”

“k-kiss… together…” he smiles, cupping your face to kiss you. smashing your lips against each other.

hips start to stagger. thrusts getting sloppier, sounds getting wetter. you’re both moaning on each other’s tongues that you had to pull away, “hnnghh! cumming! eiji!”

“i’m here baby, i’m here, let it all out. cum for me- cum for me baby.” and it hits you, crying out while you pull him onto your chest, walls gushing and twitching around him who’s fucking you through your orgasm. “you’re so perfect fuck.” his breath hitches when you clench around him again. your eyes continued to flutter, still in your own high.

“just a little more okay?” you whimper, this time no longer able to respond verbally. letting him use you despite how much it’s overwhelming you, how you could feel your slick and his tip hitting with his every movement, how his skin turned sticky against your because of the sweat.

kirishima rolls his hips a little more before pulling out swiftly. pulling you in a kiss while he jerked himself off, “gonna- g-gonna cum baby.”

you’re getting all worked up again seeing him desperately jerking himself off. “you’re so sexy eiji.” was the last thing he heard before his cock squirting pretty thick white lines of his cum on your tummy.

he plops down beside you and you play with the cum on you, slowly scooping them up with two fingers, sucking them off on your mouth and eijirou watches you with a gulp.

teasingly you tell him, “awe eiji~ you taste so good.” returning the ‘favor’ from earlier. he’s put himself in a trap, all out in the open like this. you just had no choice but to eat him all up again, this time with his mouth shut.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : ohmygod writing this was like... i was in a trance. pls do not mind the minor mistakes it's like just typing one word after the other i just wanted to let this out!!!!! anyways i miss him so much actually can we please talk about him more >< also tried a gray theme for this one lmk if it’s nice ><

[valentine-cafe]

i have been SOOOO excited waiting for yall to post takara and yall didnt disappoint <3

could iiiii perhaps req smth like her chasing us down, lil bit of silly pred/prey yk! some sort of base instinct to pin you down, have his way w you, and to get their teeth digging into you if only you’d just stay still… but that’s what usually what makes the victory all the sweeter :3

˖⁺. “ catch me if you can ” :

﹙ kitsune bf x gn afab reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁ 

. . . verse 9948e takara x gn afab reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ kitsune  ˖ mercenary character ﹚

dating a kistune is fun and all until you remember how much he loves chasing you down and fucking you raw

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ predator/prey ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ multiple orgasms ˖ scratching ˖ biting | wc : 1.4k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: sorryy this took so long but we hope it's to your liking!

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

You had never truly caught onto it. . . How your kitsune boyfriend stared away at you with hunger in his eyes everytime you playfully ran from him.

It itched away at him. Instincts kicking away at each part of his body to chase you down and grab you, fuck you into the ground while you moan and scream out his name.

He’s dreamt about it. He dreams about it. To sink his teeth into your flesh and claw away at you when you don’t want to lay still below him- wriggling around on the ground whilst pathetically whimpering out his name over and over. Your brain dumb and only focused on the feel of his cock splitting you open.

“It’s simple rules.”

Before you stands your kitsune boyfriend, with his fox smile widening as he begins to explain the little game he has been waiting for you to participate in.

“Just think a normal game of tag. But, when I catch you. . . “ He hums, tapping at the bottom of his chin with his index to pause his speech.

You tilt your head, blinking your eyes together as you let out a small yawn, before opening them up once more to see he has disappeard from his spot.

“Takara—” He could squeal at the sound of wild confusion in your voice. Most would think you would be used to the shenanigans of your boyfriend by now, but in honesty, you don’t think you could ever could with the tricks he pulls on you every day.

One second he is gone and the next you yelp as he appears out of thin air from behind you. Head of pink, fluffy hair nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He lets out a little fox laugh.

Before the thought of giving him a little scolding even passes through your mind, your hands stand from anticipation at the words crooned in your ears: “I get to fuck you into the ground. Until we are both exhausted and messy.”

Your entire face heats up like the fires of the home of the fire elementals, while your breath hitches and instinctively, you grab onto his robes from behind. Knuckles turning white from the newfound excitement rushing through you.

                                                                 . . . fast foward !! 🍒 :

  Ragged breaths escape you as your lungs feel like their life is being squeezed out of them. Sore feet thud against the dirt covered ground of the mushroom forest that the kitsune resides in.

Places such as these you do not have to worry about being caught by other spiritfolk, they tend to stay away from the mushroom forests.

Although Takara would not care much should a lonesome traveller come stumbling by and catching the sight of him pounding you from behind on a large mushroom puffing out aphrodisiac dust.

The laughs of the kitsune echoes throughout the forest, light footsteps right behind you at all times. It is as though he is right on your footsteps, ready to grab at the fabric of your clothes and drag you backwards. Take you right then and there.

And you do indeed spot them in your peripheral vision.

Yelping, you turn your heel and try to rush to the right. But they pounce on you just before you can make a quicker run for it.

He has to admit, you last longer than he though you would. There is not much time to think on that matter either, hands too busy ripping away at your pants and underwear to get through to your drooling cunt. Slick with arousal and anticipation.

Why, he hasn’t even touched you intimately yet and your pretty cunt is fluttering like he is balls deep inside already, thrusting away at it to draw out long the delicious sounds she makes for him.

“Fuck, dariin. . . Lay — Lay still” He huffs, eyes feral like a crazed man’s. Pink tails sway from side to side violently, while the pink of their irises drowns out with the expanding pupils. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

The groans he manages to perform draws out plenty of whines and sounds from you, that has him undoing his kimono as quickly as he possibly can. Freeing the hard cock which previously struggled in the confined space of fabrics upon fabrics.

You squirm, as if trying to keep the game going for the thrill of it. However your boyfriend above doesn’t take any of it. His hand pushing you back down onto the ground whilst lining up his cock to your entrance, collecting slick and mixing it with his precum.

Who is he trying to fool. You barely need to be prepped with how wet you are — The most infurating thing is that you keep moving and squirming

“I said lay still — Stop fucking moving.”

His chest crashes into your back. Squeezing you further down against the mossy ground. While his hands hurry and lift your hips. Parting your legs like it’s his job.

Splitting your walls apart, he helps you arch your back to press you a little closer. Setting a fast and animalistic pace for you as he fucks into you. With his whines and whimpers scattering out into the forest and farther. Let the world hear how he makes moans rip out of you.

“Takara!!” You cry out, hands struggling to find a spot to grip. Hair? Tails? Back? It’s too hard to decide when your brains feel like they’re already fucked half-way out. His hips smacking against yours and sending you straight to the apex point of pleasure.

He’s always fucked you open in a way that made you lose yourself completely. But this? Gods. Poor cunt is clenching onto him for dear life.

“Just look at her. Taking me— hnhhhnghn!! takinggg me so — hah- hgnhe ha- well!” He moans out. Humping away at that one bundle of nerves that twists at your tummy and threatens a slew of cum to squirt out of you every second now.

“S-so soffaaaaaaaast— K-Kara— KaraaA! pp-pleas-s-zzzzzzzzeeee! mmmgnh! Harder!!” It’s like ecstasy. Your little please. They shoot straight to his head pulling away all of the self-restraint he may have hung onto an inch.

He can’t just not listen to you right? Oh he fucks hard, giving you it all. His cock pulsating inside of you and squirting out strings of cum each time he feels the flutter of your walls around him and then clench that comes after.

The way that one vein on his cock feels brushing up against one of the nerves forces your head to limp. Hanging from his arm, while your jaw grows slack.

Your vision white with the pleasure coursing through you, and this is only the first round. Goodness, you have no idea how you are going to keep up with him when he’s fucking you like this.

“That’s it that’s it— yes” With strained encouragement he pulls the orgasm out of you. Settling the pace for a slightly slower one. Only for him to go back the second you whine in protest.

“So good at taking it baby, so good. Like it when I fuck you right here huh?”

His nails scratch across the flesh of your thighs, leaving the smallest of tears in your skin. Oh the prettiest droplets of maroon trickle down the delicate skin. It is too much to handle, the smell is intoxicating too. . . A bite wouldn’t be so bad either right?

Pain mixes with pleasure, distracting you from the momentary feel of teeth biting down against your shoulder. Only when you hear the muffled fox-like whines tumble out of your boyfriend’s mouth do you realise he’s biting you — the sight itself has you groaning out and crying from the pleasure.

His name leaves you thousands of time in a row, they’d be millions by the time he is finished with you.

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[sludgekludge]

what are some of your most minor pet peeves with hellaverse?

this is a funny question. i like it

whining about silly things under the cut

the white on imps sometimes being scars and sometimes not throws me off because i can never tell what's meant to be subtle indications of a characters history (especially fun for bg designs imo) and whats like. a spot

i honestly think the main 3 in helluva have pretty good design synergy with each other and it makes me hate loona's design because she throws off every group shot

niffty being designed so similarly to the morningstars (stark white skin with red cheek spots) bugs me more than it should

it wasn't so bad in his first appearance iirc but ever since then asmodeus consistently gets drawn with a really tiny head and i can't not notice it

i struggle to really articulate why and this is probably dumb and snobbish of me but the form everyone gets where they get bigger and scarier being called 'full demon' just feels oddly juvenile to me. what does that even mean. full demon. are they like, half demon at their basic self? make up a cool word instead. it sounds like something i'd have written into my cool death reaper umbreon oc at age 9. i hate it. i dont even know why. it just sounds so dumb to me. like peak 'a child wrote this lore'. watch out guys im going full human (permanently injuring a muscle in my body because i stretched slightly funny while over the age of 25)

this feels mean to say but cherri's voice actor doesn't do a very good australian accent at all and it's incredibly distracting if you're even remotely familiar with how it should sound. similarly maybe it's just auditory processing issues on my end but i can't even tell what accent valentino is meant to have

his design is otherwise fine comparatively but i hate the eyes on pentious' tail. breaking up his shape and like. you slither on those. floor in your eye. at least 10 floor hairs in your eyes. i dont care if theyre just markings i hate them

remember when viv said vaggie's name wasn't vagina and then canonised her name as vagina (the only lesbian main character across both shows btw) and also instead of changing her name for real after she restarted her life from scratch she just changed the pronunciation instead of just the whole fucking name, so like clearly it bothered her just not enough to change it fully like she for some reason wanted to keep in part the name 'vagina' given to her by a misogynist man she hates-

i'm irrationally irritated that emily and sera's underwhelming. 'full angel' forms i guess turn up for a split second, it felt so weird and useless to reveal them now for nothing

in fact why is every angel we meet personally in heaven in s1 a normal humanoid even though there's a diverse variety of designs in the background. imo adam is the only one who has an excuse to just be some guy. furthermore where are st peters fucking ears. why were ears deliberately ommitted on his design and no one elses. he has no fucking ears viv

saint peter

[dontcallpanic]

I love these points SO, So much! I was sat here going yes, yes, exactly! Yes!

Poor Derek not knowing how to get a house or a safe space - that really got me actually and I was wondering if it was also linked to not wanting to have too many good things. So if he has a house or a space he likes, when he inevitably looses it (in his mind) that feels so much worse than somewhere he doesn't care about so much being destroyed. Imagine getting to the point where he restored the Hale House and then it got torn down again... Ffffddd

Also Fuji your point about him having to take out Peter to protect Scott makes so much sense! But also oh god imagine having to be in that position where you have to kill your last remaining family member (from his perspective) to protect this guy that keeps getting you arrested and blaming you for literally everything! I was also wondering about it becoming one of those goals you get fixated on. Like yeah if I can only just get through X or if I can just get more powerful, if I can get stronger, if I can get better, then I can fix it all, then the problem will go away, then I can protect everyone.

Oh also - did you know there are more F's to the trauma response list - some of which I think also fit Derek. They're Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fuck, Friend and Flop. It's to take into account how we often have to play nice, or fuck or play along with perpetrators just to survive. To account for the fact that behaviour can externally look like one thing but internally the motivations are /extremely/ different. And again we don't get a choice in what our brain will select. It's just whatever it decides is our best chance of survival. And again it's definitely not going to look well adjusted, because it's not exactly a well adjusted situation. It's already deeply fucked up.

Oh and Derek having to show that he's useful just to be allowed to exist always breaks my heart. You put this SO Well. Being useful I would guess feels safe to him. You can also see him doing the needing people/pack but being so terrified of loosing them or hurting them that he pushes them away first pattern that you would totally do if you had been through all that. And then throws his own body and life around like some kind of wrecking ball because neither things are of high value in his mind.

Also your line about pleading with Stiles and Scott to stay alive by saying how useful he is totally broke me. You're spot on with that and it's just tragic.

I'm genuinely staggered by the lack of empathy and understanding but I was also thinking about what Pdxtrent said about him being one of the best representations of trauma in media (and I totally agree) and in a really awful way it kind of makes sense that he wouldn't get a lot of empathy or sympathy because real life survivors get treated this way all the time too. His response feels so True to life, it garners a true to life response from many people. Especially because he doesn't play the victim (and I love that for him) most people/survivors dont - actually! Again, you can't always tell motivations just by watching someone's outward behaviour - although you can obviously get a good idea, but there's also a whole internal world driving that behaviour that you can't see. I feel that this is where Derek is at - and at least past of the reason why he's deeply misunderstood.

There's also something there about the extreme expectations placed on young adults but that might be for another time!

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[deepestnightcolor]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆Kinkmas - 22nd of December⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

ᴀ/ɴ: There we are. A door is smiling at you again. Are you ready to open it? Take a peek? Maybe engulf in it? I thank you for your time and I hope you will enjoy!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Shane x Fem!HYBRID!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 7501 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: the reader is a HYBRID, Shane is rough, raw sex, public sex, seduction, despair, talks of alcoholism and depression, Shane is a fucking grump, creampie, loads of cursing and degredation.

The Feast of the Winterstar – what fucking humbug. That was at least what Shane had always believed ever since he had turned 13 years old. Over the years that thought had settled and manifested in something borderline hateful. He hated the way people pretended to care about one another for one day. Hated how people started talking to him the closer it got to that Yoba-forsaken day – people that didn’t even glance his way any other time of the year! Hated coughing up money for gifts for people he couldn’t care less about, hated standing around in the cold, listening to meaningless chatter and looking in faces that were so full of pretence that it made him want to belch. Of course, Shane  wasn’t overly cruel, thoug. He always managed to fetch a gift for Jas, wrap it and pretend it was from someone that wasn’t him, always managed to help her set up a little tree in her room, and he always managed to go through the motions of all the traditions his niece knew and loved. Did he like it? No. Did it make him feel any better about any of this? No. Did it make him believe in anything? Hum-fucking-bug. Did he still stomp through the snow in big boots and eat the cookies and drink the milk Jas had set out so she could scream excitedly about Santa’s visit? Yes, but still! – hum-fucking-bug. Shane was huffing and puffing as he walked through Cindersap forest, axe slung over his shoulder and pulling a sleigh behind him. Yet another tradition he didn’t understand. Why the fuck would anyone cut down a tree, just to put it up, decorate it and then throw it out again? And why was he the one that needed to do it? For fuck’s sake. He grumbled, heavy boots sinking into the snow as he trudged on. Marnie had told him her and Jas had found a tree that was just perfect, and that they had marked it with a cross in the snow for him – “you will find it so easily!”. Yeah, right. The skies had already started to darken when he had gotten off work, and the forest didn’t necessarily increase his sight. But no, it had to be done right this instant. “What if it snows, Shane!” Marnie had asked, accompanied by his niece’s puppy dog eyes. “Fuck this bullshit,” he hissed, rubbing his gloved hand over his face. All the trees looked the fucking same, what the fuck could make one perfect? Besides, would they really notice if he picked any other tree? Knowing his niece, she probably would. Which meant Shane trudged on, pulling the wooden sleigh, carrying his axe. He had almost given up when finally something caught his eye, a cross, sloppily drawn in the snow. “Fuckin’ finally,” Shane hissed, letting the head of the axe drop in the snow, rounding the tree to find the perfect spot for the first whack. He eyed the tree – and for the life of him, he couldn’t fucking figure out what made it “perfect” – then shrugged. He would get it down either way he decided, lifting the axe, making his back muscle tense up, bicep flexing before he made the first blow, strong enough to make his upper body vibrate. The tree shook, making a load of snow drop off a branch, hitting the dark-haired man right on the head. “What the actual fuck is this fucking shit-whacking bullshit, I fucking HATE fucking whatever this fucking is!” He hollered, dropping the axe, trying to shake the snow off of his beanie and coat, but he still ended up with some melting down his hairy back. “FUCK! Feast on my big, fat, DICK you stupid winterstar!”

The string of curses didn’t let up as he picked up the axe again, an aggressive blow being delivered to the tree trunk, one that had made his whole body tense and shake as the energy was released. Just as he lifted the tool a third time, though, did he hear a sound over the strings of fuck’s and shit’s. Had he just heard steps? It had sounded like it, but when he looked over his shoulder, he saw nothing but…trees. He rose a brow, then shrugged his broad shoulders once more, cussing again when he felt the cold on his back again. The third blow was more precise than the angry one from before, landing in that edge he had hit into the tree the first time. Finally, it seemed he was getting somewhere- “’Scuse me,” a tiny voice suddenly asked, making him twirl around, almost stumbling. “Holy FUCK, what the hell?” He snapped, axe held in front of his chest, blinking against the growing shadows. He let his head tilt slowly when he saw the silhouette that looked… human. But- What was that on its head? He leaned forward a little more, but it turned out that he didn’t need to. The figure stepped out of the shadows slowly, approaching him with a sweet smile on her lips. “Are you Shane?”

Usually, Shane would have had an impromptu answer for things like this – “fuck the fuck off and leave me alone” was his personal favourite, not kind, but effective – but something had caught his attention. Those ears definitely weren’t human, way too long and twitchy. And the last time he had checked, humans didn’t have fucking antlers.  Was he drunk? He had had one beer, hadn’t he? Yeah. He hadn’t had time to drink yet. So why was this fucking girl wearing antlers? “The fuck?” He asked, brows furrowing in a frown. “Why do you know my name? And why the HELL are you wearing antlers? Are you one of those seasonal freaks from Joja? Fuck right off where you came from.” Another usually – usually, people would frown, or just laugh awkwardly and walk away, the most unusual thing that had happened to him was someone daring to show him the finger. Asides from Sam, of course. Sam, ever the stubborn- he was getting off topic. This…person…didn’t follow his “usually” either. You just smiled softly at him, ears twitching as you stepped closer. “I am not wearing antlers, I have antlers.” “Yeah, right, and my dick is a snow cone. Want a lick before you piss off?” Honestly, it was getting cold, making the snow cone comment not as unbelievable as he had hoped, but like hell he would tell…you. “That does actually sound quite pleasant.” Again, Shane’s brows furrowed almost automatically. You were definitely taking the piss, and he didn’t even fucking know you.   “Fuck off, I am fucking busy, too busy to play with a furry.” This time, a laugh left your lips, a sound that sounded like bells chiming softly, so clear and warm that it made his facial features soften a little. “Beings like me are called a hybrid, Shane,” you told him, snow crunching under your boots as you stepped closer. Shane blinked at you like he had done before, his fingers wrapping tighter around the handle of the axe. “Yeah, right. Stop shitting me and finally leave me alone. Ya see that I am fuckin’ busy, don’tcha? Or do “beings like you” have piss poor eyesight?” Yet again, no irritation, no confusion, not even a flash of a negative emotion could be seen on your face, he was met with nothing but another of those pretty laughs. And why did it make his heart beat faster? “Why are you doing this?” “Doin’ what?” “Cutting down a tree, Shane.”  Crunching snow. You had taken another step, and Shane could almost make out your features now. “’Cause it’s fuckin’ normal, unlike runnin’ ‘round a damned forest, pretending to be a deer and snoopin’ round-” “Reindeer, if you please.” “What-fucking-ever. Runnin’ ‘round like a rein-…Wow, you really ARE takin’ the piss, huh? Who paid you enough to be like this?” Twitch. How did you manage to get those ears to twitch? “I thought you didn’t like the holidays.” “I fuckin’ don’t.” “Then why are you cutting down a tree for the festivities?” Holy shit. Poor Shane had to take a deep breath now, trying to regain  control over his thoughts, just to end up…irritated when a different scent than just foresty musk hit his nose. Cinamon? Why did the air smell like cinnamon and cookies now? “Because- uh…,” he had to clear his throat, the sweetness in the air making his throat run dry in a way that led him to stumble over his words, “how the fuck- uh- how the hell would you know it’s for that? Maybe I need it as fire-“ “You always stock up way before winter, Shaney.” Shaney? What the hell was happening here- Snow was crunching again, and finally, you were close enough for him to see you, and Yoba, even Shane could admit that you were drop-dead gorgeous. Not that he would say it out loud-

You gave him a smile, one that was just as soft as your laugh had been, long lashes fluttering up at him. It was hard for him to take his eyes off your face, but your antlers caught his attention. What horrified him, though, was that they seemed to be real. “They are pretty, aren’t they? You can touch them, I don’t mind,” you offered, voice soft, eyes shining up at him with a soft glimmer. Like hell he would touch some antlers. He would turn around now and go home, cut that tree down tomorrow. Fuck this shit- “But what really turns me on is when you touch my ears.” Shane’s eyes fell back on you almost immediately, taking in your face again. You were still smiling, all soft and patient, although he did believe to see a hint of a grin underlying that carefully constructed surface. “The fuck do you want?” He asked, a little breathless now. “Me? Oh, nothing, Shaney,” you hummed, leaning a little closer, allowing Shane to hear the soft chime of bells – real bells. His grey eyes snapped down, breath hitching in his throat when he saw your outfit – you were wearing nothing more than a red and white striped skirt, a small green shirt, and a red harness that was laced bells. How the hell had you managed to not freeze to death- “I just want to…You know,” you added on, your hands now on his shoulders, “make you feel a little more festive. Can’t have you gloom around like the last few years now, can I?” You cooed, and something about it just made his cock twitch in his pants. He swallowed down the knot that had begun to form in his throat. Why was he keeping up with this? A crazy-ass bitch, pretending to be a hybrid was standing in front of him, babbling stupid, albeit true, shit and he was taking it. He could just step away and walk home. Tell them it was too dark to find the tree. Prove him wrong, Marnie. But something kept him standing still. Something made his fingers twitch, feeling a dire need to touch those soft looking ears. “Tempting, aren’t they? You can touch, I promise…Would it maybe help you if I called you master?” Yoba, how had you known? Fuck, had you felt his cock twitch just now? He fucking hoped not, even tried to shift his hips away to get some space between them and you. “Oh!~ So you do like being called master. And I am happy to oblige,” you added on, lowering your head, silently offering your ear. And Shane couldn’t believe it, but he reached out. Even took off his gloves to slowly wrap his fingers around the fluffy, sensitive things. He had expected this to be something you were messing about as well, some weird prank, but the sound that left you proved him wrong. So, so wrong.

It sounded so sweet, your little moan. So honest, so warm, vibrating in his ears, hitting a spot he usually kept hidden away so carefully. “That feels good, master,” you sighed, pushing your head in his touch, bringing him face to face with a pair of rather impressive antlers. If Shane had taken a closer look now, he would have noticed that these things most definitely weren’t fake, but the old grump was much too busy to press down on those fuzzy ears, feeling them twitch under his warm hands, hearing that angelic moan again. This time the vibrations didn’t die down in his ears, they went through his whole body, crawled down his spine, making his pudgy dick throb in his pants. Yoba, in every other situation he would have barked at you to get right the fuck off, but you made something in his stomach set ablaze, clawing dangerously at Shane’s otherwise rather simple emotional palette, awakening a need in him he had barely ever felt in the last few years. Again, something the man would have never admitted, but it was true – with how often he had been drunk or depressed, okay, cross that, he had been both more often than not, he had barely been in the mood to do put up with his body in any other way than stuffing it with food or filling it with alcohol. But right now, he could feel his girthy dick throb numbly with your little moans, could feel his breathing growing heavier whenever those little bells chimed as you tried to lean even closer, sighing at the surprisingly sweet massage Shane’s thick fingers delivered.

Shane could not help himself, his eyes moved down your body rather shamelessly. Taking in your tits, the leather of the halter pressing down on them in a way that made his Adam’s apple bob with a thick swallow, took in the way your skirt hugged the plush of your hips, the way it allowed itself to flow down to your mid-thigh to just…stop, revealing long, strong looking legs. Shane’s cock dared to throb again, and he could feel himself harden in his pants, greedy for the dish that offered itself so openly. He would have been ashamed if it hadn’t been so long, and if you had stopped looking at him so prettily. But no, you seemed to melt under his gentle touch, letting out these sounds that made his mind whirr, smiling at him oh so sweetly. He just had to, just had to let his hands slip from your ears, trace down your neck with his thumbs. You didn’t seem to mind, allowing yourself to openly break out in goosebumps, a moan of his name leaving your lips. Fuck, if he hadn’t started hardening before, he surely was now. Fat cock throbbing to life in his pants, vein on the underside of his dick pulsing. But he could hold back still, still unsure, not quite knowing what was happening, and yet he was caught in a daze, one that had his mouth completely dry, and his throat tied into knots, it seemed. Still, his hand had kept wandering, fingertips coming in contact with the cold leather hugging your tits so nicely, making you chuckle quietly. “Looks pretty, doesn’t it?” You breathed, hot breath turning into a cloud as it left your mouth, leaving Shane wanting to swallow it down, his eyes following its slow disappearance with a hint of greed in them. “You know,” you suddenly breathed, fuzzy ears twitching, beautiful eyes looking up at him, and if he wasn’t completely dumb, he was pretty sure he was seeing a glint of mischief in them, “I am not wearing any panties. Thought it to be unnecessary today.”

The way you had said it was cheerful and bright, as if you were singing a happy little tune – and yet it made something within Shane snap. Large hands balling to a fist just to open up again, he grabbed your face and brought it close to his, pressing those chapped lips of his against your soft ones, ignoring the soft tingle jingle that came with the abrupt movements. You seemed to giggle against his lips, willingly parting your own to his lapping tongue, allowing the wet muscle to enter your mouth, moaning greedily when you felt him suck on yours. It seemed like you had gotten him somewhere with this, and it made your heart jump in your chest, especially when you felt a pair of hands wandering down your body, pinching and groping at what they could grasp until they found their new home on your hips, using the leverage to finally pull you into his body. You would have urged him on a little more, really, you would have! The way his tongue licked and sucked yours didn’t make it an easy task, though, and the fact that you were enjoying the deep, rather rough kiss much less so. Teeth clattered against teeth, and his scruff was scratching your face. Not that you minded, quite the opposite. The small sting made you feel all warm. Not even when Shane pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, were you able to formulate a sentence. You were turned around and pushed against the tree behind you much too quickly – for a man of his size, he moved rather fast, didn’t he? -, your hands finding stable rescue on its bark. “No panties, huh?” Shane snarled, his voice having adopted a deep tone, one that sounded like gravel being grounded under heavy boots, and holy spirits, did it make you shudder. “No, master. Do you perhaps want to check?” You asked, your lip being dragged between your teeth as you arched in your back, pushing your behind backward. There was a short silence, as frosty as the air that was lingering between the two of you. You would have turned your head a little to see the man again, but your antlers were scraping against the tree you were holding on to for support, catching in low hanging branches, leaving you in a rather hopeless position. “M-master?” You asked instead, shifting your hips again. A big paw was still resting between your shoulder blades, holding you in place, which meant he hadn’t just upped and left, which was assuring. You could hear snow crunch under his boots as he shifted, a sound your sensitive ears picked up with ease. You looked downward, seeing Shane’s knee coming up, pressing right into your crotch. Your ears folded backward, a small gasp leaving your lips. You had started getting wet already, and his movement had caught you by surprise, leaving you a little breathless. “How ‘bout you spread your fuckin’ legs f’me then? Bet ya can do that, with the way you’ve been runnin’ your slutty mouth. Right?” The way your heartbeat picked up was probably pretty unhealthy, your legs spreading open until you could feel Shane’s knee comfortably press against your crotch. “Like this?” You asked, bells tingling again as you shifted them open just a little further. What you hadn’t expected was a hand to pinch your side, tickling another moan out of you. “What was that? Thought we agreed on somethin’,” his voice snarled, making you swallow down an aroused chuckle. You hadn’t necessarily agreed on something, but you were way too happy to obey than to correct him. “Yes, master, I apologize. Is this good, master?” You asked, biting your lip yet again when you felt one of his thick fingers slide up your neck, just to run back down, down your spine, hooking in the harness and giving it a rough tug.

The jingle tingle jingle was a well-known noise to you, but in this context, it did nothing but excite you, your little cunt had already started to become wet when Shane had slowly allowed himself to fall into you, but him shifting into this new role did a lot more to you than you could have ever expected. "You can spank me, too, master, if that’s what you’d enjoy,” you suddenly breathed, trying to push your further back – a weak attempt to find the heat that was radiating from Shane’s crotch, but only finding yourself press more against his knee, making you whine out loud.

The dark-haired man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he watched you, his lower lip bitten as his chest heaved and fell rather quickly. You were so willing, so easy, and so greedy at the same time. Having a knee pressed against your cunt and still searching for his cock. It was no surprise that his free hand was pawing at his dick through his pants, giving it a few rough tugs as he watched you squirm under the pressure of his hand. You had seemingly found out that pushing back against him felt good, because that searching little hump had turned into you rutting your greedy cunt into his knee. Shane hadn’t allowed you to do so, though, had he?

His hand left his cock, instead gripping your ass through your skirt. The sound you gave was surprised, but definitely aroused as well. Your eats were folded toward him, another sign that Shane was happily ignoring in favour of letting his open palm smack down on your ass. “I didn’t fuckin’ allow you to touch yourself, did I, you greedy fuckin’ thing?” “N-no, master,” you breathed, voice shaky with the pleasurable sting spreading through your body. And Yoba, there came another one, harder than the first one, and even though the blow was softened ever so slightly by your little skirt, it still made the skin on your ass burn – his hand was big, and Shane was strong from all his work in the warehouse, despite the gut he had put on from drinking too much alcohol and eating food that was way too unhealthy.  He simply wasn’t one to be underestimated.

The third smack was just as hard as the second one, landing on the exact same, stinging spot as the other two did, forcing your hands to curl against the tree, the excitement that had been bubbling inside of you having grown to something else, something bigger, something way more lustful, something way more… needing. “I am sorry, master!” You moaned out, the quiver in your voice being joined with the jingling of your bells. “Will hold still now, master!” You promised, eyes squeezing shut when you felt another smack increasing the stinging sensation on your ass. “’S’that so?” “Yes, sir!” “That’s what I like to hear,” Shane sighed. Shit, he was hard. Hard and throbbing in his pants, cock begging to be freed from its confines, to drool its fat globs of pre out in the open. First, he had to check something, though. His hand slowly soothed over your ass as it was wandering down to the hem of your skirt, long-cold fingers fetching the fabric to flip your skirt upward, and what he was met with made him groan out loud. It was a deep sound, one coming from his belly. A primal, needy one, one that made your whole body feel like it was set on fire. “You really aren’t wearing any panties,” he breathed, making you shake your head. “I am not, sir.” “And you have a tail.” “I do, sir.” “What happens when I- shit, your cunt’s clenchin’ ‘round nothin’, ya like that? Yeah? Like when I tug on your tail?” He asked, fingers still wrapped around the fluffy tinsel, giving it another tug. If he could have only seen your face, mouth hanging open as if you were about to moan, eyes squeezing shut. What he did see, though, was your pretty cunt, busying itself with clenching around nothing whenever he gave just a teeny tiny tug.

“And you are so wet already, too…Fuckin’ hell, aren’tcha a dirty lil whore, huh?” The attempt to answer was interrupted by the silent moan that had been stuck in your throat finally escaping when you could feel a cold finger trace through your hot, wet cunt. “What is it, reindeer? Ain’t gonna talk to me anymore? Brain already shut off?” you shook your head from side to side, desperately attempting to find the words needed to formulate an appropriate answer, but Shane’s finger slowly circling your twitchy little hole kept pushing them just out of reach. Besides, it already took way too much out of you to not just push back, urge that finger that tapped your cunt’s entrance with mean temptation deep inside of you. Lucky little reindeer girl, because Shane seemed to have just about enough mercy for you to let the tip of his middle finger dip inside your gushy hole. It was just enough to brush that itch you felt burning within you, just enough to make you sigh out, but you. Needed. More.

Your tail was shaking from side to side as Shane teased your pussy, thumb tapping at your clit with cruel curiosity, grey eyes taking in the way your body trembled whenever he did. You were so wet already, taking in his finger with such ease that he needed to swallow thickly, mental image of his cock buried to the hilt inside that warm, pretty, slutty hole popping up in front of his inner eye. God, he needed that. And yet, he couldn’t just give that to you, could he? “Still didn’t hear ya. Maybe I should just…stop,” he breathed, his hand already threatening to pull away. That was when you were able to snap into motion, shaking your head quickly, the frantic tingling of your harness only underlining your despair. “No! Sir, no, please! Please, I- I need you!” “What was that?” He asked, the tug on your harness squishing your tits together almost uncomfortably, adding to the feeling of being about to burst. “I need you, Sir! Pretty, pretty, please!” The snap against your ass and the tug against the harness made your eyes roll, body trembling for more. “Dirty fuckin’ slut. I don’t know ‘bout all this hybrid shit, but I do fuckin’ know ya are a desperate little whore. Nothin’ but a cum dump, isn’t that right? Comin’ up to me to be filled?” You were breathing heavily, ears’ twitching signalling that you were listening. It was true, all of it was true. You wanted to be filled by him, you couldn’t wait to be filled by him. Cunt so painfully wet that you were pretty sure you could feel some of your juices run down the inside of your thighs, body so reactive that even the brush against your tail made your head spin.

Smack. That one had been a hard one, one that made your body jerk forward, one that made you stumble to collect your words yet again. “Yes, sir! Nothing more but a cum dump for you! Can’t wait to please your cock, master!” That was what you had planned to say, at least. Your words came out way more slurred in the form of a whimper, mumbled under your breath as you tried to recollect your last braincells that weren’t busy focusing on you being a cock-hungry slut. Shane himself had trouble focusing. The cold air stung on his cheeks, but he was too focused on you to really notice. The way his hand kept your back arched in, the way you yourself greedily pushed back to expose your cunt further. There was no way he could resist, no way he could stop his hand to unbuckle his belt with that heavy clink, no way he could stop himself from messily removing his painfully hard dick from its tight confines, grunting when the pudgy head smacked against his winter coat. Not to toot his own horn, but Shane’s size was admirable – his dick being the only few things about himself that he had liked, and even that body part of him had been barely functioning. A considerable size as to not say big, with a pudgy, fat head, readily leaking pre-cum that ran down the girthy shaft. He considered you with a sharp look in his eyes, hand pinching at the bottom of his cock before, thoughtfully smacking it against your hole, grinning to himself at the way you twitched, as if your cunt begged for him to finally fill it up. Shane wasn’t cruel, however, his hand leaving his cock again, reaching around you and holding his palm out under your mouth. You looked down at him it in slight confusion, ears twitching again. “Ma-master?” “Spit,” he ordered. That was a request you didn’t need to hear twice; you pursed your pretty lips as you collected a fat glop of spit, readily letting it fall from your mouth onto his hand. The groan that could be heard from behind your back made your tail wag from side to side, heart pounding in your chest, especially when a soft praise followed: “That’s a good girl.” Shane’s hand left her back to rub your ear momentarily, his other hand busying itself slowly running down his shaft, coating his fat cock in your spit, rubbing over the tip and pulling down to make your saliva and his pre-cum mix together in a dirty makeshift lube. “You, uh-“ “Fuck me,” you whispered, your voice a little quieter than intended. Your antlers still made it impossible for you to look over your shoulder, but you were more than willing to spread your legs wider. “Shit, you are a fuckin’ slut,” he laughed, a sound that made your heart jump, laughing with him, albeit yours sounded a lot wobblier.

The heat between your legs made it impossible to think clearly, and his hands, oh, his hands. The one on your ear had started wandering again, exploring your body with rough grabs and gropes. Big palm pressing against your tit, giving it a smack and a squeeze, before a thumb gently rolled over the hardened nipple. It would have almost distracted from his trip pressing against your drippy hole, but the moment he pushed onward, all of your attention was focused on the sensation between your legs. “Oh, ohohohoh!” You babbled, head falling back. Shane felt like his heart was about to explode – your cunt was stunningly warm, gummy walls hugging around his tip in a way that brought him close to just mounting you, bottoming out inside of you with just one thrust. It was tempting, really, filling you to the hilt, stuffing you full of cock just like this. Instead, his hand found that ear again, pressing a gentle massage into it, praising lowly. “Thaaat’s a good slut. Look at you, already suckin’ off my dick, good girl. Gonna move a lil more, okay? Gonna stretch that lil pussy open, that’s fuuuckin’ it, take it.” His cock was honestly aching with despair, with the need to be wrapped up and suffocated by her walls, the dark-haired man’s brain completely shut off as he watched his dick vanish inside her cunt, centimetre by centimetre. And the sounds. Yoba, the sounds you made. They were heavenly. Whiney gasps, breathy moans, begging whimpers, all tumbling out of your mouth freely as he bucked forward. He was about halfway in when he finally gave you a break, your eyes swimming in tears at the unusual size filling your cunt. “Good girl,” he praised again, kissing your shoulder blade carefully. “Think you can take it all, huh? Want me to fill you up nicely, little whore?” Yoba, yes, you wanted him to fill you to the brim. Fuck you senseless, use you however he pleased. His size made your eyes roll as you moved, gasping his name out in the cold night air, leaving it there to be carried away by a gust of wind. His cock was throbbing against your walls, pulsing with each clench your pussy gave in an attempt to adjust. You were struggling, the stinging sensation mixing with pleasure in a way you hadn’t expected it to, leading you to allow yourself to push back against him. “Need more, huh? Cunt’s not full enough yet? Pathetic,” he growled, his façade cracking with how quickly he was obeying, pushing in further, making your cunt take him, until he finally was balls-deep inside of you. Your jaw was hanging open again, fingernails digging in the bark of the tree. You were pretty sure you could feel each and every pulse that went through him in your whole body with how full you felt. “Pussy stretched fuckin’ thin now? That’s what ya like? Filled up like this, pinned against a stupid tree? Wish I could see your face right now, lil reindeer. Bet you look absolutely, deliciously stupid.” And you did. Really, you did. A small drop of spittle hung by the corner of your mouth, your eyes were glazed over with nothing short of dumb pleasure, pretty lashes fluttering when Shane started moving. He moved slowly at first, only pulling back a little and thrusting back in with a considerate stroke.

“Relax for me, babe- that’s it, that’s fuckin’ it. Gushin’ ‘round my cock like that, needy fuckin’ thing- fuck, ya feel so good,” he sighed, his hips moving faster, fucking into you with more vigour now, trying to get more of those delicious sounds out of you. The bells on your harness jingled dutifully as Shane fucked into you from behind, his pace fastening with each thrust.  Oh, how you loved it. Moaning his name shamelessly, gasping whenever it rewarded you a hard smack on the ass, switching back to master, just to slip up again. Being taken against a tree like this was new to you, and if a reindeer hybrid like you had a wish to make, you would have wished for this to never end. Cock stretching you thin, pounding whatever frustrations Shane had into you – and you were happy to take it, especially when he leaned in to praise you so filthily. “Hear that? Hear how your whore cunt is takin’ me? Messy lil slut, holy shit. Good fuckin’ girl.” You swallowed him up so well, cunt complaining with a squelching sound when he pulled back, just to greet him with another sloppy wet sound when he fucked back into you, balls smacking mercilessly against your skin with the rough fucks he was giving you. The pale skin on your ass had started to redden from the cold, but if he looked closely, he could make out the shape of his fingers. Fuck, you took him so well, it should have been illegal. “Like that? Like bein’ fucked against a tree? Ohhhooo, you clenchin’ up again – must be lovin’ it. Twitchy fuckin’ pussy,” he hissed, pelvis smack, smack, smacking into your ass as he took you just how he pleased. The hard, bullying thrusts had turned your brain to complete mush. The cold winter air had no chance against the warmth you felt prickling on your skin, radiating from an ever-consuming heat pooling within you. “Ma-mahaster!” You cried out, making Shane groan lowly. “Feelin’ good, whore? Cunt’s pounded good? Shit, you’re so good f’me, fuckin’ love this pussy.”

A particular rough snap was bullied into you before he began to snap his hips fast again, the string of moans leaving your lips only urging him to push you further, push you closer to the edge. His hand smacked your ass, this time the other cheek, tearing a sob from you, cold skin being forced to heat up with a stinging sensation. “Play with your tits for me,” Shane hissed, his balls feeling painfully tight. If his brain had been any clearer, he would have been surprised that he wasn’t completely out of breath yet, but something about you, cross that, everything about you made it just so easy for him. You felt so full, so hot, and so, so fucking close. Your orgasm was so, so close, making the hand that was pinching and grabbing at yourself shaky, your eyes rolling, legs twitching. “Sh-shane-“ You began, gasping out loud as he picked up one of your legs, pushing it forward, seemingly hitting impossibly deeper.  The words that had been on your tongue had tumbled back down your throat, burning in that pit of hot lava in your stomach that threatened to overtake you, your head falling back, almost hitting the relentless man with your antlers. Shane let out a breathless chuckle, the grunts and groans that had been leaving him barely allowing him to hear your sentence, but the way your body was beginning to twitch and shiver was enough. His fingers found your clit, arm awkwardly wrapped around your hip to reach between your legs, rubbing that little bundle of nerves, smacking his lips together to try and regain his ability to speak. “Ya gonna cum for me? That’s it? Pretty cunt’s gonna spill all over me? Fuckin’ do it. Cum for me, baby, want to have it all.”

You could do nothing but nod, and nod you did. Frantically, bells jingling as your hips fucked back against the rough thrusts that would for sure leave you behind sore, and you would relish the fact that you were. Your breathing came out in short puffs, moans all high pitched as your back arched in, your hand wrapping around the wrist of his hand that was rubbing your clit, a sobbed cry of his name announcing your orgasm that knocked the air right out of your lungs. “Fuhuckkkk, holy fuckin’ shit,” Shane moaned, his other hand wrapping around your stomach to pull you closer, ignoring the feeling of antlers bumping against his head. He needed you close, and he needed you to be close right now as you were creaming around his cock. “Good girl! Perfect girl, fuck! That’s it – cum for me. Cream around me- You are gonna make me cum, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he gasped, babbling some more lewd curses as he thrusted into you, holding you as close to himself as he possibly could. His breathing became ragged as he neared his orgasm, making your ears perk, even in the dazed state of mind your orgasm had left you in. Your free hand reached back, finding the back of his neck, fingers curling in the strands of hair you could find, giving a small tuck. “Nee-need you to- cum,” you drooled, weakly pushing back your hips.

The dark-haired man could feel his hips stutter, feeling like an invisible hand wrapped around his throat as something inside of him finally snapped. He bucked forward, pressing you against him as ropes of cum started to shoot from his dick, low groan leaving him. The feeling of being filled like this, so snugly pressed against him, it did something to you. Something that made the tears that had filled your eyes finally spill, something that made you want this to never end.

Shane was quivering behind you as he weakly bucked his hips forward, milking his dick with the help of your pussy just like he had milked your cunt – to be honest, he was desperate to fill you up as much as he could, fill you up enough for you to feel it for as long as possible. But, years of alcoholism and depression finally caught up to him, making his hips quiver to a halt, head bumping against your shoulder as he greedily sucked in a lungful of air. And that’s how you were standing there, wrapped in the darkness of the forest, dick stuffed in your cum-filled cunt. How you loved this feeling already. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been standing there like this, but at some point, Shane started to feel the cold settling in, biting at his skin with icy fangs. And even though he would have known a billion other things he would have preferred, he slowly began pulling out, snapping you out of that haze. “Fuck,” he breathed, making you finally turn your head as crunching snow indicated steps turning away. Shane had picked up his messily discarded gloves before slowly returning to you. “Might pinch a lil now, but I don’t know what else I could use,” he explained. You were watching him in confusion as he leaned down, gasping out loud when the rough material of the glove touched your raw cunt. “Sorry, baby. Just need to clean ya up a lil, can’t let ya- there we go, relax for me,” he murmured, dabbing at you oh so carefully. Each contact made you twitch, but his gentle care which posed such a stark contrast to the demeanour from before – you didn’t have the heart to tell him that this would be no problem at all for you. “There, a little better,” he murmured, adjusting your skirt before giving his dick a rather quick swipe before he slowly zipped himself up again. Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit him.

“Those antlers are real.” “Yes, they are.” “That…tail, too?” “Yes.” “And the ears?” You twitched them in response, giving Shane a bright, albeit tired smile. “All real.” “And you…why are you…” “You see,” you smiled bells jingling their soft tune as you approached him, “I’ve heard you say humbug one time too many, and decided to give you a little holiday spirit.” Shane’s brow furrowed again, his mouth opening again to respond- “Nu-uh. You can’t deny this, I am real, and it’s not exactly normal to fuck a hybrid in the forest around the holidays, is it?” At that, his mouth snapped shut, making you giggle and pat his chest. “There, there. This was a fun little present, after all, wasn’t it?” Shane swallowed the knot in his throat as your cold hand touched his cheek. “And I know you have it in you.” “What else do you fuckin’ think ya know?” “That you just gave me the best fuck of my life.” His jaw clicked as he snapped it shut again, making you giggle again. You picked up the axe that Shane had oh so carelessly dropped before, placing it in his hands. “Do I need to- uh. Bring you somewhere?” A laugh left your lips, bright as a bell and as warm as a cozy fireplace. “No, Shane. I have found you with ease, and I will find home with even more ease. Don’t you worry.” “And…uh- will I see you again?” he couldn’t believe he was asking this- “That depends.” “On what?” “If you are on the naughty or nice list.” You gave him a smile; a sweet kiss being placed on his scruffy cheek.

Shane was left stunned as he heard the snow crunch under your boots, crunch, crunch, crunch. He watched after you, legs denying their services – it was like he was frozen to the ground. Shane blinked to let his eyes adjust better, but when he opened them again, you were gone. The fuck? There was no way you could have vanished so quickly! He dropped the axe again, quick steps through snow following the footsteps that you had left behind, just for them to…slowly disappear. 

Shane was left standing in the forest, with no trace of you left behind. Had he just dreamed all of this? Pussy-starved, holiday-hating brain coming up with a dirty fantasy while he tried to cut down a tree? Was he going fucking crazy? He rubbed over his head, pressed his fingers against his eyelid. Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the past few days? But why the fucking hell did he feel that cozy sleepiness he always felt after an orgasm? He looked into the direction he had seen you go in once more before slowly returning to his axe. Walked to the tree he had held you against, but there was nothing but his own footprints. Fuck, had he been manic or some shit? He swallowed thickly, running his fingers over the tree bark where he had been pretty sure your slender fingers had found support. Shit, he was going crazy. He decided it was time to fetch the axe and go home, sleep it off. But as he walked, he heard a sound. Soft and all clear. Warm and bright. It reminded him of something, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He took another step forward, just to hear the gentle sound again. His hands automatically reached in his pocket, just for his fingers to wrap around something smooth and cold. He pulled his hand back, opening it to find a bell resting in the palm of his hand, still cool from the night air, reflecting whatever little moonlight had fought its way through the trees. He shook it gently, eliciting a soft jingle tingle jingle, making a smile appear on his lips. Well, he guessed there was a reason to get on the nice list now. Or at least the nicer list. While Shane made his way home, the “perfect” tree was resting on the sleigh, and the old grump even hummed a light and soft song – “Jingle Bells”.

[lsunstreakerl]

Famiglia-Familie

Chapter One Analysis:

First off- most of chapter one is kind of over a few concurrent days, so this is a bit shorter than my analysis for the other chapters is going to be.

- I imply in later chapters that Max sees more of the accident than what I actually write in chapter one, and that's true! There's a couple of reasons for that, one being that I just didn't want to write that, and the other being a super convenient excuse for reason one! the human brain, especially a young one (like, maybe, 14?) is going to block out a traumatic event, especially the finer details. Max's brain is literally rewriting what he's seeing in front of him and during the actual crash, in order to try and minimize the psychological damage.

- This ties into the way that Max struggles to even refer to the accident later on- he cuts himself off before he says "Jos", he won't call it "the accident" or even really think of it at all. Max divides his life solidly into a "before" chunk and an "after" chunk.

- "But issi/sunny, why was Force India even there?" Honestly, the way GP and Max meet in this fic is complete chance. There are so many spots where it could have gone otherwise, but it doesn't. I mention at the beginning of the fic that it's leading up to the race weekend, but it's still a wednesday, so there's a lot of the support staff driving around. A group of the Force India guys, including GP, were carpooling back to the hotel when they see the accident site, and they're genuinely just being good samaritans when they stop their car and start trying to help people.

- Max's arm is bothering him a bit while he's still stuck in the seatbelt, but the way that it has him restrained, (which he can't see) is actually doing him a bit of a favor at that point in the fic. It's cutting off blood flow, so Max isn't feeling how majorly fucked up his own bones are. (For curious minds: in this fic, Max has a spiral fracture down the body of his right distal ulna, comminuted fractures across his fingers in a few spots, and an impact fracture on the distal end of his right radius. There's some impact damage on the proximal ends as well, where the elbow joint forms, but it's not as severe as the fingers and wrist.)

- Because of the way Max landed, Hayden isn't able to see the way his arm is caught in the seatbelt until he asks Max to start moving, at which point he asks for the knife. Hayden does have a moment here where he's looking at the injury and wondering if it might be better to let EMS cut Max out, but he's worried they won't get there fast enough, and this is a kid, trapped in a metal van, when there's lightning out, and he makes the decision to cut Max out, and whatever those consequences are he's willing to live with them. (Triage is traumatic and stressful and for those of you who care about original side characters, yes, Hayden goes to therapy.) ((also because he saw a dead man))

- When Hayden cuts Max out of the seatbelt to pull him out, Max gets that blood flow back, which allows his arm to tell his brain "we have a problem!" Which is why he starts screaming. Rough night for him.

- Max is having such a genuinely awful night the entire time that that as soon as he's out of the car and someone (GP) is being kind to him, he decides he's going to cling, and he's not going to let go, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. GP is such a genuinely nice guy, and Max is tugging at all of his heartstrings, that he's like "sure I'll go to the hospital" because GP and the Force India crew could see Jos, and they know that Max is alone now.

- Max gets morphine in the ambulance. yippiee!

- Max is terrified in the hospital, because of everything that's been happening, and his arm, and all he has now is this unfamiliar stranger he'd decided to cling to, so he's like "fuck it, all in, I'm attached to this guy now" and then he doesn't want to even let GP consider leaving, which is why he makes life harder for the hospital staff by refusing to let go of GP.

- The Force India guys called Colin as soon as they pulled over, letting him know about the accident and that they were going to help. Colin keeps in touch with all of them throughout the night, finds out from one of the other guys that GP is with a random kid in the hospital, and acts accordingly. (Has people collect emergency supplies for a teenager and put it in GP's room)

- GP has a reputation in the garage for being soft hearted, so no one is at all surprised about how the situation actually ends up, because of course the guy who always breaks for squirrels and gets out of his car to carry a turtle across the road takes in a child in an emergency, that's just how Gianpiero is.

- When GP first calls Colin is the hospital, he's mostly just getting reassured that it's all okay, and to do whatever he needs to do for the kid. Colin tells him that if Max needs to come to the garage with him for the next few days, Force India can accommodate that.

- Max isn't really thinking about the "not talking" thing until he's confronted when the social worker, where he makes the conscious decision not to speak, both because "that makes everything real" and also because he's in an unfamiliar country, and he doesn't have a legal adult taking care of him, and he doesn't want to say the wrong thing and accidentally back himself into a corner.

- "He didn't get letters for very long" is one of the subtler more heartbreaking lines, because Victoria continues sending him letters for months, Jos just doesn't let Max know about them, so Max thinks Victoria stopped sending them, and Victoria thinks her older brother doesn't like her.

- GP goes through the legal hoops in the background of this fic. Colin has to vouch for his employment status a million times, he has to call the British Embassy in Germany to get the ball rolling on emergency foster certification and then standard foster certification, he has to get the emergency foster certification from Germany, and he has to juggle so many emails. Your average person would be completely overwhelmed, but GP is a race engineer, and being overwhelmed is kind of his job, so he handles it pretty well.

- Max goes into emergency surgery to handle some of the worst parts of his arms and fingers, but the hospital is still super clear with GP that Max needs to have some follow ups. (Max ends up with some serious hardware in his hand. He still has struggles with fine motor skills, and he's got killer osteoarthritis in his fingers, wrist, and forearm, but the brace helps with it.

- "issi/sunny, any hospital that lets a pediatric patient leave that soon after a surgery of that magnitude without a thorough welfare check should be ashamed of themselves!" IM NOT HERE TO BE REALISTIC IF I WANTED THAT I WOULD GO TO WORK.

- Max not looking in the mirror goes hand in hand with him not speaking, or acknowledging the accident. He knows he's injured, he knows as soon as he sees himself in the mirror with his injuries that he can't fool himself anymore, so he's not looking at all.

- GP has no idea what to do with a teenager, which is why he's kind of awkward at first. It's important to note that GP, again, has zero clue who Max is. GP thinks he's taking care of a kid who had a normal home life before a traumatic accident. GP does not think he's taking care of a kid who was already traumatized even before the accident, and he's not able to pick up on some of those warning signs until he and Max are living together.

- "Why doesn't Max go straight to Michael?" Max is 14, and has been told his entire life that nothing is more important than racing, and so of course this would be true for a world champion as well, and Max is so petrified of being a burden that he doesn't want Michael to know at all, because he knows Michael will drop everything to take care of him. (He's been raised to think that kind of behavior is soft and he doesn't need it.) He especially doesn't want to tell Michael right before a race as well. Max is also still trying to pretend it's not real, so the less familiar faces he's around the better.

- Max gets really into the data partially as a coping mechanism, because if he's looking at the data and trying to learn then he's not thinking about the accident. This is also why listening to GP read it out loud is soothing to him. GP has a nice voice, and Max can listen to him rattling off numbers and variables for hours. This is also the beginning of a little routine for the two of them when one of them is having a hard time, where they sit and they go over data together. (nerds)

- The Force India engineers are so excited to have someone genuinely interested in what they're doing that they fall in love with Max immediately.

- The Force India garage also knows why GP has Max- they know that Max is from the accident, and they know he's very grim and quiet, so they actually do kind of make a game out of trying to make him laugh, or at least smile.

- Yes, that is the actual qualifying and race results for Force India in the 2011 German GP.

- I don't actually know if Paul di Resta is a good guy or not, and I didn't want to look it up. ignorance is bliss and all that.

- Max taught himself to be ambidextrous because he thought it would be a cool party trick, and instead it's totally saved his ass now that he literally can't move his right hand.

- "issi/sunny, did you actually look at places for rent in Buckingham for this fic?" guys, I ended up on one of the Buckingham city council's 117 page documents detailing next years public transportation plans from like 2013. do not underestimate the depths I will go.

- Max trying to figure out what he would even want in his room is a bit heartbreaking, and GP doesn't understand why Max struggles with it so bad. (Again, GP is assuming Max lived in a house somewhere, when Max's house was the van, and the van is gone.)

- GP gets attached to Max almost immediately. Here is this quiet kid, from a horrific accident, and he's so scared, and for some reason he's putting his trust in GP, so GP isn't going to betray that. And then GP finds out that his quiet kid is so smart, and that he likes looking at the data, so of course GP is like "give him all the data he wants" and the garage loves him because he's quiet and well mannered and genuinely interested.

- Word gets around the paddock pretty quick about the accident in general, because it made local news, and then it also spreads that one of the race engineers from Force India is actually taking care of a kid from the accident site, so Max has always got people looking out for him when he's around the paddock. (Max doesn't realize this in the fic) he's quite literally a grid kid, in the realest sense.

- GP spends the entire time he's driving from his old flat to the new house freaking out about the whole thing. He's very careful and responsible to not ever show that in front of Max, but trust that there are multiple points in this fic where he is internally flipping his shit.

Feel free to ask questions/request clarification on things! If you actually read to the end of this 🫶

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Do not be afraid ⭑

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Day 1/12 of Smuffmas! Hand holding & Dry humping with Osferth

12 days of Smuffmass Masterlist

Pairing: Injured!Osferth x Warrior!reader

Warnings: NSFW, Death (just enemies), injuries, blood, making out and dry humping (and of course he cums in his pants sue me)

Summary: After Osferth gets injured at the battle of Beamfleot, you take it upon yourself to take care of the baby monk but Osferth thinks of more of you than a friend.

Taglist smuffmas '24: @venmondiese

The steel sword in your grip pierced the flesh of the man sprawling on the ground. Your body was shaking with adrenaline, and you frantically looked around. All you could see was a sea of men, blood spraying around and bodies collapsing on the soil beneath your feet. 

Where the fuck was Osferth? 

Panic started to rise within you, you were supposed to protect him. “Stay behind me.” You told him, now he was nowhere to be found. But you didn’t let that stop you, even though you had only known him for about two years now, you felt the need to protect him, keep him safe.

Pushing men around you and swimming through the waves of warriors, occasionally slitting one or two men’s throats, you kept looking for him. One thing you wouldn’t allow to happen was to die before making sure Osferth was safe. 

Still, you did not see him, however you did spot Finan. You made your way over to him and your back collided with his own as the two of you fought off Danes while speaking. “Have you seen Osferth? He was supposed to stay close to me!” You yelled through all the screams and ringing of swords. 

“No! I think he might be on the other side!” He yelled back, and so you made your way through the heathens again. In search of the baby monk. Even though you were the same age you had much more experience than him.

Having to defend yourself from a young age would do that to you. And so after meeting the men in Winchester, you proved to Uhtred that you were useful to him. Of course, he was a bit apprehensive of taking a young girl with him to battle, but he gave in once he saw you had experience.

Kneeing a Dane in the balls made him fall to the ground and you stuck your sword in his throat before moving on. At last, you spotted him, but your breath hitched when you noticed he had hurt his arm and was trying to fend off Danes with just his left.

You pushed on, determined to get to him- when everything went black. Something warm and sticky dripped down your cheek to your jaw and in your neck. When you opened your eyes, you felt the cold, muddy earth beneath you. Since it was just your head that received a good punch, you got on your feet. 

It must’ve been a while, because when you looked around, the battle was over. And seeing as you were still amongst your own men, it was won by the Saxons. A hand touched your shoulder, it was Sihtric. “Are you alright? You’re alive at least.” You just nodded and wiped some blood away from your eyes with your sleeve.

“Is Osferth alright? I couldn’t get to him- I swear if he got himself killed-” Sihtric stopped you. “He is alive, just, hurt. We’re taking him to Saltwic, Aethelflaeds estate.” You let out a breath of relief but you still cursed yourself for letting him out of your sight. Sihtric led you to the tent Osferth had been laid in.

Finan’s crouching form came into view, as well as your lord Uhtred’s dominating figure. You sped up your steps and reached the cot Osferth had been placed on. Uhtred stepped to the side, allowing you some space to speak with the baby monk. 

“What the fuck did I tell you?” Osferths eyes widened at the sight of you. “Why did you leave me?” He kept quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m scared. Am I going to die?” His trembling voice made your heart ache. “I swear if you die, I will kill you myself.” Finan warned him.

“Right. I’ll try not to then.” You kneeled beside his cot and Finan stood up to fetch some water. Other men around you gathered weapons, horses and a cart for Osferth. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, I simply...afraid, I suppose. Of losing my good friend I mean. I should’ve done more to protect you.” 

He didn’t reply at first and it made you question his state of mind. “Are we friends?” He then asked. You raised your brows at him, “Of course we are Osferth.” You laughed. “Oh, right.” He mumbled. Your face was covered in confusion. “I know you hit your head, as did I, but…are we not?” 

His eyes shifted to you and he seemed annoyed with himself. “Yes, it’s just that- you often don’t show it, I guess.” Mentally face-palming yourself, you understood what he meant. You never had been one for affection and praising words but you thought he knew that. 

“Osferth, you know me. And I am sorry that you might feel like I don’t like you or that Uhtred told me to protect you, which is in a way true. But I do see you as my friend and I want to protect you as well. I’m just not as affectionate as most people, but maybe I could change that, just a bit.” He smiled at your words and then grimaced in pain.

Thank God the cart was ready for him, you helped Finan and Sihtric with carrying Osferth onto the cart and mounted your horse to ride next to him. The whole way to Saltwic you made sure to keep your eyes on him at all times, guilt still swirling inside you.

It was only when you had successfully managed Osferth up the first floor at Saltwic in one of the guest chambers, that you could feel somewhat at peace. As retribution for leaving him hurt on the battlefield, you vowed to stay by his side and guard him yourself. Osferths grunts of pain filled the room and you felt horrible as you watched him squirm under the furs.

“It is better to lie still and get some sleep, I know that must feel impossible right now but please try.” He sighed, and tried to lie still as you suggested, moving around too much would only hurt his shoulder more.

A couple of days passed by, and Osferth seemed to do better. But still, you never left his side. All day he had been telling you that it was safe to leave him and get a comfortable bed yourself to sleep in but you refused. The wooden chair next to his bed would do. 

“But you must be so uncomfortable, I wouldn’t mind if you left me.” He pleaded once again. “I will not leave you again Osferth, that is the end of it. Now go to sleep.” You didn’t hear another word from him and presumed you had won your little argument but then he spoke again.

“At the very least, you could lie next to me? Only if you would be comfortable with that- I wouldn’t mind- because your my friend of course, I didn’t mean it in any weird way- Oh god now I sound like a pervert-” 

“Jesus Christ Osferth I’ll join you, now shut up and stop overthinking everything.” You groaned, pushing yourself up from the chair. Your arse numb from the wooden seat. Osferth’s cheeks burned red and he moved over a bit so you could join him. The night had already fallen, but most men were still celebrating in the hall below.

Placing your sword right next to the bed, you put your dagger under your pillow. Next you removed your cloak, gloves and boots. You hesitated for a moment but took your chainmail off as well, leaving you in your tunic and pants. Crawling under the furs next to the baby monk, you prayed that none of the men would check on you.

As your heart sped up in your chest you wondered why you felt so nervous all of a sudden, you had laid close to Osferth before, both in your own cot of course. So why did this feel so intimate and different? 

Laying stiff on your back, you stared up at the ceiling but you couldn’t ignore Osferths eyes on you as he laid on side, facing you. “Did you need something Osferth?” You said, turning your head towards him. “No, no sorry, it’s just that I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault. I can tell you… I dunno, maybe feel a bit like you're at fault. But you’re not!” 

He didn’t expect your reaction, you smiled at him. Something that did not happen often, unless you were drunk. “I must admit, I do feel guilty. As it was my fault, but I appreciate your kind words Baby Monk.” He was now the one smiling. “So you do care for me?” He teased.

“Good night Osferth.” You sighed turning to your side, back towards him. He cursed himself for saying that but tried to sleep either way. Both of you only catching some light sleep, until Osferth woke up in the middle of the night for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Can you lie still, for fucks sake Osferth.” You whisper yelled at him. He jerked at the sound of your voice, he had no idea you were awake. “Sorry.” He whispered. You could hear the slight tremble in his voice. With a sigh you turned to face him. “What’s wrong?” A tear slid down his cheek and he tried to quickly wipe it away, but even in the darkness you saw.

“Oh, Osferth. Tell me what’s wrong.” You asked him again, now with a much kinder voice. “It’s nothing.” You rolled your eyes, did he think you were stupid? “Osferth, I swear do not lie to me, it is way too late for that.” You heard him sniff slightly and then you did something no seer could predict.

Your arm wrapped around him carefully, to not hurt his shoulder, and pulled him against you. He then let out a slight gasp which turned to soft sobs quickly. “I just feel so useless, I’m so horrible at fighting, I’m just a liability.” He cried, muffled by your tunic he buried his face in. 

“Even liabilities can be useful Osferth.” He raised his head to look at you and you felt bad for saying that, it wasn’t quite in your nature to comfort someone. “I didn’t mean it like that, I meant that you are not useless. And you just need some more training, I will see to it myself even.” 

The kind words from you seemed to comfort him enough, and surprises upon surprises this night, you felt the need to place your hand on his cheek and wipe his tears away. His lips parted at the sudden movement but he only leaned into you. “Osferth? Say something.” 

He was at loss for words but still tried to form them. “If I do, I would only say something stupid.” Your brows furrowed. “Say it.” But you didn’t have to, because it was then you felt his hard cock press against you. “Oh.” Was all you said before he tried to free himself from your grasp. After some struggle and restraint from you, he still succeeded.

He hurt his shoulder in the process however and winced as he at up in your shared bed. “Osferth please, don’t be embarrassed.” He buried his face in his hands as he mumbled apologies. “You barely consider me a friend and now this, it’s too shameful.” He murmured. 

“Stop presuming what I think and want Osferth, you have no idea.” He lifted his face from his hands and looked at you with confusion, cheeks still red. “What?” You scoffed and placed your hand on his thigh underneath the furs. “I said, stop presuming what I think.” His eyes widened at the feeling of your hand on him.

“I do care for you Osferth, more than you think.” His brows stayed furrowed however and a slight smile met him as you sat up as well, closer to him. “Maybe I should show you instead. Would you like me to show you?” He could only nod with wide eyes and held his breath as your face moved towards his cheek.

You kissed him affectionately on his cheek and he let out a puff of air. “Please-” He pleaded, he needed more of you. Taking it as a sign to continue, you kissed along his jaw, back towards his cheek and finally on his lips, which he eager kissed back. 

He knew how to kiss, you discovered, the way he passionately moved his lips back against yours was electrifying. Experimentally you slightly traced your tongue along his lower lip and Osferth shuddered in response. So you slid your tongue inside and was met with his. He moved his hand on your waist.

In a flood of desire you had forgotten all about his shoulder and acidentally placed your left hand on his hurt side while settling yourself on his lap, making him grunt in the kiss. Pulling away you apoligised profusely. “It’s alright, but I just now realised...we won’t be able to take this further because of my stupid injury.” He almost pouted.

“Awh poor Baby Monk, do you really think I don’t know of other ways to make you cum? Without hurting you?” He gulped at your dirty words and you felt his hardness twitch beneath you. “For example, like this.” You suggested with a roll of your hips. 

A loud moan left his lips at the friction, he hadn’t been with a woman in weeks because of the preparation for battle and hadn’t been able to fuck his hand because of his injury, and you. You panted yourself, surprised by how much pleasure this gave you. And so you grinded your clothed clit against his hardness again, earning more moans from him.

The pleasure sparked inside you and you couldn’t help but start a desperate rhythm, grinding on his cock as he whined and moaned. When you accidently placed your hand on his hurt shoulder again, he grabbed both your hands and intertwined them with his.

Allowing you to balance and hold steady on his lap that way. You kissed him again and humped him so fiercely now, the shoddy wooden bed banged against the stone wall, but neither of you cared as you were so close to release. 

“Feels so good, never knew just this could feel so good.” He panted, his hands tightening his grip on yours. You only moaned in response, your legs starting to ache from your movements but the pleasure was too addicting. Both of you so consumed with lust that you didn’t realise you were making too much noise.

Osferths free hand moved to grip your arse helping you move firmer against him, his whimpers were a telltale sign he was about to cum. “I’m not going to last-” He gasped. You held your breath as your own peak washed over you, clenching around nothing as you cried out his name.

Osferth, now even more desperate for his own release, ground his feet on the bed and fake fucked into you causing his own orgasm as his seed coated the inside of his pants in ropes. His gasps and pleads fell on deaf ears as you were still high in the clouds, his pants now wet with his own arousal. 

He stilled his movements and let go of your hands, you now placing them on his chest instead. Breathy laughs escape you at the thought of having dry-humped your ‘friend’ like a horny animal. He smiled and let out a sigh, his head resting on the wall behind the bed. “Oi! I thought you were going to guard the monk not hump him!” 

Finan’s voice penetrated the walls of your chamber. Both of you flushed with embarrassment, you completely forgot that both Sihtric and Finan were literally in the next guest chamber. Your head fell on his chest and he couldn’t help the chuckle escaping him.

[27spoons]

CRUSH | ACT ONE: CIGARETTE DAYDREAMS

pairing: natalie scatorccio/reader

summary:

A handful of chance encounters with the elusive Natalie Scatorccio lead to an unlikely outing with the aforementioned, which leads you to an unexpected and unconventional place, far removed from your usual quiet routines. In the quiet of their surroundings, the two find themselves opening up, sharing glimpses of their lives and discovering unexpected common ground. You're drawn into Natalie's world as the day unfolds, leaving you questioning your choices and craving more of the freedom and thrill she embodies.

wc: 5700

warnings: they smoke weed, reader is a bumbling idiot

a/n: the amount of research i did into the american school system is truly astounding. yall are so weird (lovingly). what the fuck is a homecoming and why are you guys so obsessed with it (/j) (mostly)

ao3

PREVIOUS - PRELUDE: CRUSH

NEXT - ACT ONE: HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK? (WIP)

The first time you really noticed Natalie Scatorccio, she was leaning against the bleachers behind the gym with a cigarette dangling from her lips, head tipped back like she didn't give a fuck if the sun blinded her. Even in the heat of late spring, still wearing that black, faded leather jacket. You wonder if she was born with it.

You didn't mean to stare. You never do.

But Natalie… well, Natalie always had a way of drawing your attention, like a moth to a flame. The rest of the world seemed to fade into static whenever she came into your line of view. 

Looking back, you wonder why the hell she even came to school that day. Half the time, she was just a rumour passed from one hallway to another, a near-mythical figure that drifted in and out of classes on her own terms. Maybe her being on the soccer team played a role in her occasionally attending classes. As good of a player as she was, they couldn't have someone on the team who ditched all of their classes. Only some. And maybe she had a bit of, well, a lot of a record. You don't know how much of it is true, but you do know she's spent more than a few nights in juvie. 

Anyway, she didn't notice you. She never did.

Why would she notice someone like you, anyway? With her sharp edges and reckless impetuousness? You barely spoke in class unless called on, minded your own, and were content fading into the background of any picture. Your life was routine and predictable—a series of perfectly lined notebooks and polite smiles.

But, with all that in mind, it never stopped your heart from catching in your throat every time her eyes flicked lazily across the quad, scanning the crowd like she was already bored of it. It never stopped the rush of heat to your cheeks when someone shouted her name, and she smirked, tossing her cigarette to the pavement and crushing it with her boot. 

You told yourself to stop looking.

You didn't.

Instead, you let your gaze linger, wondering what it felt like to be the kind of person who could light up a cigarette in the middle of the day and make it look like art. Wondering what it felt like to be noticed by Natalie Scatorccio.

Wondering if you ever would.

You never planned to talk to her. Not really. It was always just passing thoughts of what it would be like to interact with her. Would she be exactly like all the rumours? A cold, uncaring burnout that doesn't give a fuck about anyone but herself? Or would she be kinder? Someone who cares about people and has a secret soft spot?

The thoughts that ran through your mind every time you looked at her. Some more explicit than others. Whoops. 

Maybe even when you weren't looking at her. Like now, for example. So lost in your own world, leaning against the school's exterior wall during your free period, you don't even notice someone approaching you until their voice pushes you out of your thoughts. 

"Got a light?" The raspy, feminine voice asked, sounding like the person it came from had already smoked half a pack today.

Your head flicks over to the voice and… Natalie Scatorccio. In the flesh. How long had you been imagining your first interaction? Since that spring sophomore year? What was that, over a year ago, now?

You blink, startled. "Uh, I, uh—I don’t smoke.” 

The girl scoffs, "No shit. I didn't ask if you smoked. I asked if you had a light."

You must look like a deer in the headlights right now, mouth opening and closing uselessly like a fish out of water. "Uh." You sling your backpack off your back and unzip it. Truthfully, you already know you don't have a lighter in here. You're only looking because it's an excuse to keep her around a little longer. 

"Sorry," you murmur after a minute spent rifling through your bag and Nat shifting restlessly beside you. "Don't have, uh, a lighter on me."

She appraises you for a moment, "Then what are you doing here, Princess?" She gestures vaguely to the surrounding area. "This your idea of a field trip? Comin' to the corner where the burnouts hang out?"

…is this the corner where her and her friends hang out? No, right? You've never seen them back here before. Mind you, it's not like you're watching her every move, but you feel like you've seen her around enough to know that this isn't her usual haunt. 

"No, uh, I, uh, just wanted some air." The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. 

Natalie laughs, low and quiet, "Sure, sure." She tucks her cigarette behind her right ear and crosses her arms, looking over you again with that same look that you could never entirely read. "Well, enjoy it while it lasts. You won't get air like this where you're going."

"Where I'm going?"

She hums, shrugging and pushing off the brick wall the two of you were leaning against. "Wherever people like you go when they get bored of people like me."

You don't even get the time to consider that or form a response before she's walking off with that signature swagger. 

So, you stand there, staring after her, heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

You'll start carrying a lighter with you, you decide. 

The next time you interact with Natalie Scatorccio is the week before homecoming, and it's in a setting that is far from glamorous. 

You're in—well, just outside—the school's storage closet, begrudgingly helping a teacher gather decorations for the upcoming celebration. She'd roped you in during your lunch period with a sickeningly sweet smile and a nudge about "school spirit," and, of course, you've always had a hard time saying no. Now, you're stuck digging through boxes upon boxes of tangled string lights, crumpled paper banners, and decorations that are probably older than you are. The icing on the cake is the fact that the entire room smells like mothballs and mildew. 

So, there you are, crouched down and trying to untangle a particularly stubborn knot that connects a pair of string lights when a vaguely familiar voice startles you.

"Didn't peg you for the "volunteer of the year" type."

You glance in the direction of the voice to see Natalie leaning against the closet doorframe, arms crossed and smirking down at you. She's got a blue Gatorade bottle in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of her leather jacket.

You blink, genuinely surprised to see her in this part of the school, voluntarily. "Uh… what're you doing here?" You stammer out, hands still buried in the mess of tangled lights.

Natalie cocks an eyebrow at you, "Came to see if this place had any tape. Coach is too cheap to buy any decent stuff for the team." She waves a roll of duct tape in her hand, as if to prove her point, then glances down at the many boxes you're sifting through. "You doing this for shits and giggles or some sort of punishment?"

"Uh… neither?" You shift in your position awkwardly, "Ms. Garza needed help, and I—"

She scoffs and interrupts you, "You're too nice." she crouches down beside you with an exaggerated groan, like the act of sitting is the hardest thing in the world. "Lemme guess. Something about school pride, how much she would appreciate it, and a pat on the back?"

"...yeah…" you murmur, face flushing.

An indignant snort leaves her as she digs her hands into the string of lights you currently have yours in, "Called it." To your great surprise, she starts untangling the knotted lights with a deftness you weren't quite expecting.

Mind you, you weren't really expecting any of this.

"Oh, uh, you really don't have to—"

"Nah. 'm bored." She shrugs, not bothering to look up at you. "Wanted an excuse to ditch practice, anyways."

"Oh." You aren't quite sure how to respond to that, so you settle for just watching her work.

The silence stretches as she untangles the lights on your behalf, slightly uncomfortable and tense but not awkward, for some reason. Eventually, you find the courage to ask, "You're, uh, on the soccer team, right?"

Natalie pauses for a moment, then shrugs and gets back to work. "Yep," and for a moment, you think that's all she's gonna say until she adds: "Not exactly my dream job, but it mostly keeps me out of trouble." She smirks and finally glances at you, "Mostly."

"Well… that's good, I guess?" You offer, watching as she successfully untangles one of the strings from the giant mess.

She laughs—short, sharp, and genuine—and it honestly catches you off-guard for a moment.  "Sure, Princess. Good. That's one word for it."

You let that silence slowly become awkward before you mumble out, "You're not what I expected." You don't even intend it to come out of your mouth, but it does before you can stop it.

Natalie freezes, her expression shifting to something unreadable. "And what exactly did you expect, huh?" Her tone, while mostly neutral, carries a slight bite to it.

That makes you hesitate.

Good job, dumbass.

"Oh, uh, it's just that… people say a lot of stuff about you. I dunno." Your face flushes again, and you feel like a bit of an ass for saying something, but surely she knows the rumours that circulate her.

"Yeah, well, people say a lot of shit about anything they don't understand." She nearly snaps, her jaw tensing before she finally looks at you, her gaze making you feel far more insignificant than you've ever felt before. "Guess it doesn't really matter what they say, huh? People like you don't bother to find out for themselves."

"People…" You swallow down that sudden lump in your throat, "People like me?"

"Yeah. You know," she gestures vaguely at you with her free hand as if that explains everything. "The good kids. The nerds. The ones that stick to the rules and do what they're told. Whatever."

You open your mouth to dispute that claim, that you really don't "stick to the rules" and "do what you're told," but even if you could without lying, she wouldn't believe you. "Yeah." You manage, unable to find anything else to say.

After that, the two of you finish untangling the lights in relative silence, and as bad as you feel about what you said (and assumed), you feel like there's some sort of understanding you've gained about the woman a majority of the school avoids, like the plague.

As Natalie stands to leave, duct tape in one hand and a satisfied grin on her face, she pauses and spares a glance back at you, "Hey," a beat, "Try saying no next time. Might make life more… interesting."

Then… she's gone. Leaving you alone with the faint smell of cigarette smoke and the realization you're probably blushing.

You start frequenting that spot in the back of the school during your spare period and hoping that maybe, maybe, she'll grace you with her presence again. 

Lucky for you, she does—two weeks later.

It's early October in your senior year; homecoming has come and gone, and the air has started to develop a slight chill. You're sitting against that same wall with a sketchbook in hand and earbuds in, listening to whatever is playing off your phone. You really need to work on your situational awareness because you don't even notice Natalie approaching until her figure is looming over you. You quickly pull an earbud out as you look up at her. "Uh—" "What're you working on, Princess?" Despite the teasing lilt in her voice, she seems… genuinely curious. "Oh, uh, just…" You turn the sketchbook around and offer it to her, figuring it's easier to show than try to explain. "Yeah, I'm drawing a very specific type of bird, the barn swallow, which I saw when I went up to my grandfather's farm over the weekend." True, you could just say, "It's a barn swallow," but that's no fun.

Natalie cocks an eyebrow, surprised that you're just handing her your drawing when most people wouldn't let her touch their belongings with a ten-foot pole, but she doesn't comment on it. She nods as she looks down at the sketch, "'s a nice looking bird. You got talent, Princess." She hands the book back to you, "Your field trip take you out here again?"

You flush slightly at the compliment, murmuring out a quiet "Thanks" before you look back up at her, "Oh, uh, I just… it's quiet back here. Most people don't come around this part of the school, so I can draw in peace. It's nice." You offer her a soft smile, which she returns. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" The girl looks around the area, yawning. "Always nice to find spots where the rest of the school don't stick their noses." She glances back down at you, "Shouldn't you be in class? Don't seem like the type to skip." You shake your head, "I have a spare right now. And I'd rather be out there than in the library or something. At least out here, I can breathe." You chuckle quietly to yourself.

She huffs at the comment and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket, "This is true." She places one between her lips, and you almost hope she asks you if you have a lighter again, just so you can show her that you do, but she doesn't, instead opting to pull out a rusted Zippo from one of her combat boots. She takes a few puffs from the smoke before flicking the lighter closed and returning it to her boot. 

"Sorry. Would've asked if you wanted to bum one, but you said you didn't smoke last time." Last time. Meaning she remembers the interaction the two of you had weeks ago. That brief, fleeting interaction. It shouldn't make you feel as warm as it does. "What's your last class of the day?" And now she's asking you questions. About yourself. That's crazy. That's wild. 

"Oh, uh, AP Chemistry with Mr. Carr."

Natalie snorts as she brings the Marlboro back to her lips, "Figures you'd be in AP Chem." You frown slightly at that, but she quickly adds: "Not that that's a bad thing or whatever. You just… seem like the overachieving type. No offense." She shrugs as she takes a long pull from the smoke.

"Yeah, well, parents want me getting into a good university, preferably with a scholarship, so that I won't have to go into crippling debt just to study." You give another (slightly tense) chuckle.

She grunts in response, "I get that." You were half expecting her to make another jab about getting into a good school or getting a scholarship, but find yourself pleasantly surprised when she doesn't. "Hey," She says, looking back down at you, "When's the last time you skipped a class?" Skipped a class? You don't think you've ever—well, that's a lie. You did a few times back in middle school when you thought it was cool. And it was—until you ended up missing a test. "Middle school, I think." You mumble, thinking about the question. "Probably eighth grade. Why?"

A devilish grin crosses her features, "Well, Princess, I think your nerdy ass is long overdue for a skip. Last block of the day, anyway. What've you got to lose?" You consider that. She's right. It is the last class of the day. And you know that Mr. Carr is just reviewing stuff for Monday's test. 

You know you shouldn't. Really, you shouldn't. It's a bad idea. One headed for disaster. You don't know her, and she just keeps calling you "Princess," and for all that is holy, this will be a terrible idea.

"Uh, I don't know." You, once again, give her a tense chuckle. "The school will call my parents if I'm not in class." Natalie rolls her eyes and scoffs, ashing her cigarette. "Please. Just text them and tell them you've got a stomach ache or something and needed to go home early. I doubt they'll piss themselves over it. After all, it's like you said, you haven't skipped since middle school. Live a little." Live a little. She's right, again. How many times are you gonna let opportunities pass you by because you were too much of a pussy to do anything? For all that is holy, you might regret this.

"...if you end up sacrificing me to some blood God, I will be very upset." But you start packing your stuff up all the same. Natalie laughs—truly laughs. Warm and open. You decide you like that sound. "Not a blood God fan? Alright. I'll sacrifice you to the sex Gods, then." She grins as she takes another pull from the smoke, "C'mon. I know a place." She gestures with her head for you to follow. She doesn't even stop to make sure you're following her; she just assumes you are.

You scramble up off the ground and quickly move to fall into step with her as she leads you away from the school. 

She moves fast, walking down the sidewalk and stepping over cracks and rocks as if she's taken this route countless times, and maybe she has. Not once does she spare a glance back at you to see if you're following, her eyes set on the path in front of her—as if nothing could break her single-minded focus of leading the two of you to… wherever you're going. 

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like forever but is actually only a few minutes. Despite being slightly taller than the blonde, you find yourself taking slightly hurried steps in order to keep up with her. Natalie doesn't seem interested in telling you where she's leading you, and you don't dare ask—not yet, anyway. You clutch your bag tightly, feeling both exhilarated and slightly nauseous.

“Relax, Princess,” she says finally, her voice cutting through the quiet. She glances over at you with a smirk, flicking ash from her cigarette onto the pavement. “I’m not dragging you into anything illegal.” She grins and looks back ahead, "And I'm not actually sacrificing you to the Sex Gods—unless you're into that." She lets out a low chuckle, and you find yourself blushing again like a fool.

You're grateful she's looking away from you again, although you're almost positive she knows your face is bright red. "I, uh, I wasn't thinking that." You mumble out, nearly tripping over your own feet.

"Sure you weren't." She hums, "Don't worry. For the record, this place is cool. No cops, no teachers, no assholes tryin' t'stick their nose where it doesn't belong. Just us."

You should feel reassured, but her words only make your pulse quicken. Us. Like you’re part of her world now, even if just for a little while.

She leads you down a side street, and the area she turns down honestly looks like the type of place where someone would be murdered brutally, and their body would be discovered two months later when someone walking their dog accidentally stumbles across it. Sunlight filters through the overgrown trees on one side of the street, the tangled branches casting eerily beautiful shadows on the gravel road. 

Natalie comes to a stop at the end of the road, pushing open a rusted gate that groans in protest at the movement. On the other side of the gate lies a small, run-down skatepark, the kind that's been long forgotten by time and maintenance crews. Graffiti covers every available surface, some of it less vulgar than others. 

She flicks her cigarette butt to the pavement and crushes it under the toe of her boot, "Welcome to paradise," she says, throwing her arms out wide as if displaying the park to you like it was her prized possession. 

"This is… your big, secret spot?" You cock an eyebrow and glance around, walking to the edge of the skate bowl and glancing down at the artwork that covers it.

Natalie laughs, leaning against the nearest ramp. “Hey, this baby is my pride and joy. Beats sitting in AP Chem, doesn’t it?”

You can’t argue with that.

You can try to, however. "'least I'd be learning something in AP Chem."

She laughs at that, "Oh, yeah?" Well, I can sure as hell teach you a few things, Princess." She pushes off from the ramp and saunters over to you, and you swear to God your face might actually look like a tomato. "I, uh, I—"

She laughs, "Relax, Princess." She drops down to sit on the edge of the bowl, taking her backpack off and pulling out a tin of Altoids. 

"...Mints?" You ask, confused, your face slowly returning to its normal colour as you sit beside her, albeit with slight trepidation. 

The girl snorts as she opens the tin, revealing a handful of carefully rolled joints. "No, Princess. I just got tired of carrying around plastic bags of joints that would end up crushed by the end of the day. This keeps them intact and fresh." She pulls one out and places the end of one between her lips, offering you the tin.

You look down at it like you're seeing a ghost. "Uh—"

She rolls her eyes, but the grin on her lips remains, "'s not gonna bite you. Just a joint." She closes the tin and lights the one between her lips, taking a few puffs to ensure it stays lit. "You really never smoked before, yeah? Complete virgin?" Oh, if only she knew how true that statement was. "Yeah, uh, virgin lungs. Only ever inhaled oxygen." You give a tense laugh, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away bashfully. 

"Well," Natalie hums, holding the joint out for you, "First time for everything, yeah?" 

You stare at the joint like it's possessed. "I don't, uh, really know how to." Nat shakes her head and laughs, "Dude, seriously, you need to relax a little. Just, like…" She sighs and rolls her eyes, waving her free hand around as she tries to explain how to take a hit. "Like… you're drinking from a straw, or whatever, but you're trynin' t'fill your lungs, not your stomach." You reach out to grab it, but she pulls it back for a moment before letting you have it, "And, whatever you do, do not fucking slobber all over my joint, or this—" she gestures between the two of you, "—will never happen again. Yeah?"

"Yeah." You murmur, suddenly far more nervous than you already had been, if that was even possible. You swallow nervously to clear the saliva from your mouth and place the end of the joint between your lips and do as she instructed, inhaling like you would if you were sucking something through a straw. You only manage to get about a second and a half into taking the pull before you're pulling the smoke from your mouth and coughing up a lung.

Natalie, of course, starts laughing her ass off. "Dude—" She tries to stop laughing, but the more you cough, the more she laughs. Admittedly, even though you're suffering, you do quite enjoy hearing her laugh. "Dude, seriously. Breathe." She grabs the joint back from you before you drop it.

"Yeah, well, easy for—" You cough a few more times, "—easy for you to say." You wave the lingering smoke away from your face, "You're not the one who just took your first hit."

She scoffs, a cocky grin plastered on her face. "Yeah, but I didn't cough my fucking lungs out the first time I took a hit." Natalie brings the joint to her lips and takes another pull before ashing it, "Try again." She offers the smoke to you again, "And this time, try not to cough like that, yeah?" Her tone is teasing, and her eyes sparkle with mischief. 

Damn. You're already whipped, aren't you?

You let out another shaky exhale as you place the joint between your lips again and inhale, although not as aggressively this time. You manage to actually take a few second long pull, although you do cough a few times on the exhale. "Fuck." 

You pass the joint back to her as you make a face, and Natalie just laughs again. "See, Princess? You can take a proper hit. I'll make a stoner of you yet." She grins to herself as she takes another long pull.

Silence, comfortable silence, passes between the two of you as you share the joint (and yes, you do still cough after every hit. But you swear you're getting better!) until it's depleted. Natalie sighs as she snuffs the roach of the joint out on the concrete, "I don't like silence. Talk." She says bluntly, drawing one of her legs up to her chest as the other remains draped over the edge of the bowl.

"Uh." You stammer, shaking your head. "Alright. Uh… do you skate? Or something? I'm assuming this isn't really a place you just… stumble upon." You vaguely gesture to the surrounding skatepark. 

The bleach blonde shakes her head, "Nah. I don't skate. Kev does. 's become our hangout spot. No one comes 'round here unless they're tryin' t'smoke or skate. And the people that do come around to do that are usually chill." She glances at you, "So don't make me regret showing you this place, yeah? If I come back one day and see all the graffiti gone and the place cleaned up, I'm comin' for you, Princess."

Princess. That stupid fucking nickname. She hasn't even asked your name, but she's been more than fine sharing a joint with you and showing you her 'secret spot' that she seems to value so much. 

Yet, as much as you dislike the nickname, you also like how it spills from her lips. Maybe it's just because it's her saying it. 

"Promise I won't leak your "special spot" to the locals." You shoot her a smile, and she smiles back at you. 

"Good." A beat, "How's it feel to hang out with someone like me, huh? Bet your goody-two-shoes ass would have never dreamt about smoking a joint in an abandoned skatepark with someone who has a rap sheet, huh?"

Well… maybe you have dreamt about it. But Natalie doesn't need to know that. "Didn't think it would ever happen, no." You nod, looking back over the spray-painted pavement. "I, uh, like the… fuzzy feeling from the weed, though."

"Fuzzy feeling." Natalie parrots, shaking her head, "You're high, Princess. That's what that fuzzy feeling is. You're high. Didn't even smoke that much. I forget how much of a lightweight newbloods are." 

"Yeah, well, not all of us smoke our first joint at ten and do our first stint in juvie by twelve." You roll your eyes, and the teasing edge in your voice surprises even you. Maybe it's the weed talking—or perhaps it's Natalie, the way she makes you feel a little bolder than you would typically be. 

To your surprise, Natalie seems to take the comment in stride. "I'll have you know I didn't do my first stint until I was fourteen, thank you." She grins, leaning back on her hands. "What's the most rebellious thing you've ever done, Princess? And, no, skipping class with me and smoking a joint doesn't count."

You have to think about that for a moment. 

Like… a long moment. You really don't do anything that would be considered rebellious. "Uhhh… skipped a few times in middle school. Snuck out a handful of times after curfew to watch the meteor showers…" You're quickly realising how lame you sound. "I, uh, once I stole some vodka from my parent's liquor cabinet? But… nothing major, obviously."

Natalie lets out a low whistle, "Damn, you're a natural rebel, yeah? Sneaking out to watch meteor showers… stealing vodka from your parents once…" She shakes her head in mock disbelief. "You're adorable." A wistful sigh leaves her lips.

"Yeah…" You give a strained chuckle and rub the back of your neck, feeling far more bashful than you had been all afternoon. "What, uh, about you?" You ask, partially to deflect from the conversation about you and partially because you're actually curious. You've heard so much about her, so many stories and rumours… how many of them are actually true? "What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

She shrugs, like she’s been asked this a hundred times before, and she probably has. "The usual. Got into some fights, boosted a car once—don’t recommend it, by the way—and maybe climbed a water tower drunk off my ass just to prove a point." She grins, clearly proud of herself. "Oh, and there was that time I broke into a swimming pool after hours. Almost got caught, but it was worth it."

That is… surprisingly far less than you thought it would be. Your kneejerk reaction is to ask, "Is that all?" but you know better. "What type of car?" You ask, which is a far safer question.

Natalie laughs, "That's what you're pulling from that?" She shakes her head, "Sure. Was a Mazda MX-5. Soft top. First gen. Did it on a dare. Belonged to some rich asshole that lived outside of Philly. Took way too fucking long to boost, and I was sweating balls the whole time. Never again."

"Damn." You murmur, "What did you do with the car once you got it started?" You ask, far too curious for your own good.

"Mm, that's a secret, Princess. Curiosity kills cats, or whatever the fuck the expression is." She smirks lazily, waving a hand dismissively. "Y'know, life is short as fuck. Shorter if you're someone like me." She takes a moment to light up a cigarette, "You ever think about that? Like… if all you do is follow the rules, what’s the point?"

You're not sure if it's the weed talking, but… her words hit heavier than you thought they would. "I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that," you admit, voice softer than intended. "I mean… I’ve always just done what I was supposed to, what everyone expected of me. Status quo, and all that." You shrug, but there's a lack of conviction behind it.

Natalie blows a few smoke rings before turning her gaze back to you, "Yeah? How's that working for you? Living the life of your dreams?"

You sigh and look away from her, then groan and lie down against the edge of the bowl, legs still dangling off of it. "I mean… I guess it's working out fine." You shake your head, not even convinced of your own words, "Sometimes, though? Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to… just…" You throw your hands up in frustration as you try and find the right words, "Just do whatever the hell I want. Like you, I guess."

She scoffs, but it isn't harsh like her previous ones have been; it's almost bordering on wistful. "Careful, Princess. That's the type of thinking that gets you into trouble." She puffs on her smoke several times, "The good type of trouble, don't get me wrong. The kind of trouble that makes life actually worth living.

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just sit there, the quiet settling in again. But this time, it feels different—less like silence and more like… a mutual understanding.

The two of you sit out in quiet understanding for a little while until Natalie's cell vibrates. She fishes it out of her jacket pocket with a sigh and glances down at the cracked screen of her… you're pretty sure that's a Samsung S8, which is more than a few generations old at this point, but it's honestly not that surprising that she has an old, beat up phone.

"I gotta jet, Princess." She pushes herself into a standing position and swings her backpack over her shoulder, but before she leaves, she looks down at you, still sitting on the edge of the bowl. "But, for the record?" A grin twitches its way onto her face, "You're not half bad. Guess not every nerd is an uptight bitch, huh?" Then, she's off. Leaving you sitting on the edge of the skate bowl, reflecting on the past… however long you spent out here with her.

The silence left in her wake feels heavier than you'd expect—as if she took all the noise and chaos with her as she left. You sit there a while longer, brooding in the stillness. Your eyes drift to the snuffed-out roach of the joint the two of you shared, and you find a smile crossing your features as the words she left with replay in your mind.

"You're not half bad."

It's probably nothing to her, just another throwaway moment in the whirlwind that is her life, but to you? Well, to you, it feels like a seed of something has been sowed. Approval? A connection? Whatever it is, you let it linger.

Eventually, you rise, brushing off the nonexistent dust and dirt from your pants. The world feels different now—softer, maybe. Or maybe that’s just the buzz still coursing through your body. You know you should head home, but instead, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture of the empty skatepark, the graffiti-lined concrete glowing faintly in the golden light of the setting sun.

Maybe you’ll sketch it later. Perhaps you’ll save it as a reminder of this strange, unexpected, but welcome afternoon.

As you begin your walk home, you let your thoughts wander to Natalie—her casual confidence, her warm laugh, and how she made you feel that leaving your comfort zone, that safe little bubble you had built, was not only possible—but necessary. 

You don't know if you'll see her again tomorrow, or the next day, or anytime soon, really. 

But you sure as hell hope you do.

a/n: yall not gonna be getting anything even remotely romantic for a hot minute whoops (gotta build that tension yfm)

questions/comments/whatever? slide in my asks and ill maybe respond idk teehee