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#no for real sometimes i think about would i ever dig it out and do an overhaul that would make me happier with it today
anneapocalypse · 1 year
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On the upside Fallout 3 is making me nostalgic for when I first got into Fallout and on the other hand it's making me think about my early fandom days. 😬
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princessbrunette · 3 months
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so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.
the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!’, your first thought was ‘shit.’
because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?
you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)
rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.
the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.
he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.
with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.
a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.
“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”
“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”
rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.
“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.
“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.
“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.
“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.
“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.
“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’
rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.
“talk to my girl again n’i’ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.
atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.
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Too Far.
Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.
A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.
-
He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?
He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.
He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.
-
He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.
“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.
“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”
“What? That’s not-“
“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”
Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.
“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“
“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”
He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.
“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.
When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.
The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.
“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.
“What did I do?”
“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”
“I’m sorry”
That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.
He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.
“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”
“I’m so-“
“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”
She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.
“Okay”
He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.
“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”
“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”
He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.
“Tell me about th’ vacation”
“I don’t-“
“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”
He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.
“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“
“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”
“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”
“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.
“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”
He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.
“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”
He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.
“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”
“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.
“In every life…If you’d find me”
“I’d find ya”
-
He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.
He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.
“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”
Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.
He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.
“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.
She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.
“Everything”
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luveline · 1 year
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could i request teacher!reader with hotch? like maybe she’s jacks teacher
thank you for your request! fem!reader, 1.2k
You're a teacher: you're always tired. Overworked, underpaid, everybody knows how it goes. And maybe you've let yourself go because you don't have any real material hopes for the future beyond getting Macy Danish to read at a first grade level, but how were you supposed to know that Jack Hotchner's father would be so overwhelmingly attractive? It's not fair. 
He's handsome though older than you'd been expecting, but that isn't the cut and dry of it. When he comes in, it's alone, in a well-fitted suit. He's tall and remarkably dark-eyed, shaking your hand without trying to impose any authority, as some of the fathers tend to do, and when you call him Mr. Hotchner, he says, "Aaron, please," but continues to call you Ms. L/N.
"Aaron," you say, pulling your skirt under your thighs as you sit down. You're dressed in nice clothes for the parent-teacher conferences, but you could've covered your sleeplessness better. "Jack is the nicest boy in class. He's actually my loveliest kid. Um…" You search through your notes for the preliminary assessment of Jack. "Sorry, two seconds." 
"Take your time. I know what it's like to dig through a mountain of paperwork every day." 
"Jack mentioned you work in the government, he calls you a special agent," you say, smiling. "You get the bad guys." 
"I am a special agent. Supervisory." Aaron is conscientious enough to pretend he doesn't notice your surprise. "I'm chief of the behavioural analysis unit." 
You can't even begin to guess what that entails. "Oh," you say breathlessly. 
"I understand that it sounds fantastical." 
"It sounds impressive," you say, floundering to correct yourself. Behavioural analysis? It must be obvious to him how nervous he's making you, then, and when you realise that, you get worse. "I'm so sorry about this. I should be more organised. I usually am." 
"That's alright. Take your time." 
Does he always speak that way? His voice is like fucking silk? Is he messing with you?
You yank the notes you made for Jack from the pile and flatten them across the desk. "Okay, sorry. Like I was saying, Jack is really the nicest kid, him and his friend Molly. They're both lovely, and teachers shouldn't have favourites, please don't tell the other parents, but they're my favourites." You smile at him quickly and return your eyes to the paper. The words swim in front of your eyes. "Jack can read better than you could ever hope for a first grader, he's immensely intelligent for his age group. He's patient. He'll explain anything to anyone if they ask him too, and he does it well." 
"I'm glad to hear that," he says, again so softly. 
You pick up one of your skinny biros to have something to fidget with. He's a very good looking man, but you're a good teacher. You can focus on what to say. Some parents need good things only. Some need reassurement that they're doing a good job. Aaron is harder to read, but you know what he needs, too. 
"He can be lonely," you say, looking him in the eye. "I don't think that that's down to any fault. I'm sure you know better than I do why he might feel that way." You know about his mom's passing over a year ago. You've seen grief in children too many times. "He… I understand if this isn't okay with you, but he eats lunch with me sometimes. I encourage him to sit with his peers, of course, but I think he runs out of energy pretty quickly." 
Aaron nods thoughtfully. His brows quirk into a furrow that you're afraid is directed at you. 
"I don't think he necessarily has trouble connecting with his friends." 
"What do you think?" 
"I think something awful happened to your family, and Jack will feel it for the rest of his life, but that it won't stop him from being great. It already isn't. And… he clearly has a father who loves him and who he admires. You're his second favourite topic." 
"What's his first?" he asks. 
"He's really into Fruity Fridays," you say with a laugh. "I bring in fruits you don't get often in America. Someone would've had to sign a form." 
"No, I remember signing it. He likes that?" His smile is golden. "I can't get him to try new things." 
"He had all the leftover gold kiwi last week." You rub your lips together. Time is ticking. You have nearly thirty parents to see tonight, but talking to Mr. Hotchner has been so normal. He's a regular person in a sea of inattentive helicopter narcissists. It's a relief and a half to meet him and know a kid as gentle as Jack is in good hands. "Mr. Hotchner, I have to tell you, I'm really relieved to meet you." 
"Aaron," he corrects.
Your tone drops too low. "Aaron." 
"I'm more than relieved," he says. "I knew that this year would be harder for him. I didn't know… I'm grateful to you, for being so kind with him." 
You look down at your notes, flushed from head to toe despite your airy skirt. Crossing your legs, you shake your head. "It's my job." 
"To let him take up the only break you get all day?" he asks. 
"It's not like that. Jack doesn't bother me." You fold your notes in half. "I can see his role model measures up." 
"I could say the same thing." 
The next time you see Jack, bright and early Monday mooring shepherded by his aunt Jessica, he's very happy to see you. You offer him a hug and pat his back when he wraps his arms around your hips. "Hello, Jack. Was your dad pleased with your drawings?"
Jack smiles at you. "I have a note for you." 
"You do? Can I see? Where is it, honey?" 
Jack takes off his backpack and pulls out the note and a tupperware container. "Oh, wow, did you make treats for the class? Jack, that's so nice!" 
"No. Dad said those are for you. He said you should have nice for nice, or something," Jack informs you. 
"You'll share with me, though? I can't eat them all by myself," you whisper. 
He nods with enthusiasm and runs off to put his backpack in his cubby and his coat on the hook. You look down at the cookies and note, which is actually an envelope. 
You open it with your thumbnail. The writing is Aaron's usual tight cursive.
Dear Miss L/N, 
I hoped to thank you again in person, but work makes that hard. I appreciate everything you do for Jack. There are teachers who work, and there are teachers who go above and beyond. I can feel confident anywhere in the country knowing Jack is being taught by the latter. 
Gratefully yours, 
Aaron Hotchner. 
P.S. Please don't feed Jack too many cookies. They're not for him. 
You keep the letter even if it's lame to do so. When is the next parent teacher conference, anyways?
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doitforbangchan · 6 months
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All Bark and No Bite - 13
Masterlist /Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Chapter Warnings: afab/fem reader, Smut, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, mild anal play, grinding, thiago riding, spanking, choking, biting, kissing, violence, blood, cursing, misogyny, sexism, Dom!Seungmin, Possessive!seungmin, Possessive!Reader, Soft!Han, reader gets called puppy (a lot), crying,name calling , fluff, angst, Lee know once again being a dick.
WC: 8.3k
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There was a wetness that was traveling up the side of your shoulder that woke you up that morning, a little squeaky ‘mwah’ following each moist point of contact. You blearily opened your eyes, catching the sun shining through the thick nylon of the tent and forgetting where you were for a second. 
Before the mild panic could set in, you were hushed from a body next to you, “Shhh baby, you’re alright my sweet girl.” It was Jisung, he had a softness to his tone you hadn’t heard before. 
“Ji?” You asked, delirious from sleep and turning your head to look at him through half closed eyes. 
“Mmhmm” He hummed, continuing his smooches along your shoulder and trailing up to your neck.
You immediately relaxed, closing your eyes and letting out a sleepy sigh. “Wha are ya doin?” 
“Jus’ missed you is all.” He replied, his warm hands digging under the blankets you were buried under and finding the skin of your waist. “Annnnd maybe I was feeling a little needy for my baby.” 
“Mm. Where’s Channie?” You felt his fingers drumming on your skin, finding your hip and giving it little taps. 
“Hyung is clearing up the stuff down by the beach with the others. He wanted to let you sleep.” His kisses were turning into nips and sucks as he got closer to your jaw line. You let him move his hand ever further south, resting in the waistband of your sweats.
“Hmph” You grunted, “ this is letting me sleep huh?” 
“We all have to make sacrifices sometimes, baby.” He tilted your face to meet his, his eyes half lidded with need. “ I needed you.” Jisungs wet lips found yours with a whimper. You melted into his kiss, breathing a sleepy sigh of content. It’s honestly crazy how he hadn’t kissed you for real until right now. Kissing him was exhilarating. You had hoped he had wanted you but now you could feel how bad he craved you though his lips, a mashing of teeth and tongue, as if he was trying to devour you. You were sure you would never forget the tang of his natural taste, it being reminiscent of Sunny D in that sense.
You gave a low whine when the beta wandered his fingers further into your sweats and into your panties. He didn’t delve his fingers in, just gave you more taps on the flesh that was quickly dampening for him. 
“Fuck my baby, need to hear you make that noise again.” He muttered against your wet lips. The beta could smell your arousal filling the tent, leaking through the pores in the nylon fabric. He hoped to be covered in it. Wanted it to seep into his skin.
Jisungs fingers swiped through your accumulating slick, both of you groaning at the feeling.
“Ji, we can’t umm, we can’t do it right now… I don’t think we have any.. Protection.” You managed to get out bashfully, finding it incredibly hard to stay strong on the matter. But you were not about to have a repeat of Chan's fury.  
“Shh my baby, I know. Jus’ wanna make my girl feel good, is all.” His mouth reattached to yours and his nimble digits circled up to your clit after collecting some of your slick. “Mm so fucking wet, nnngh.” He started to whine as he bucked his clothed pelvis into your covered form, unable to stop the motion.
The beta rubbed harshly on your bundle of nerves, panting as he took in your little squeaks and whimpers of pleasure, finding it addictive. Craving more and more. His little grinds only increased when he parted from your clit and plunged a finger into you, feeling your tightness surround his digit. 
“Sungie” you moaned at the intrusion, eyes clenched shut. You had heard he played guitar so you figured he must be good with his hands but fuck. 
He wanted to cry at how sweet you sounded when you whined his name. Ji used his other hand that wasn’t buried in you to rip the blankets off your quickly overheating body then he pulled your bottoms down so he could get better access to you. 
The sight of your drooling pussy and glassy eyes riddled with sleep and lust, pushed him over the edge, and he came untouched in his sweats. “Fuuuuck my baby, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, oh my fucking god, so perfect, the best omega in the whole world I swear to god.” He rambled as he came, shoving a second finger in and bringing his other to circle your sensitive nub. 
You felt your high approaching, all it took was for him to curl against your special spot inside of you for you to let go. This one felt a little different from the rest that you’ve had before. When you came there was a release, and a flood of your essence shot out of you, soaking both Jisungs hands and the blankets beneath you. You were crying in pleasure at the feeling. “Ji, Jisung oh my gooood, fuck ahhhh.” 
He moaned loudly when you squirted on his hand, “What the fuck oh my fuck thats so hot.” 
The beta worked you through your high, only stopping his thrusting when you weakly grabbed his wrist. You were panting so hard, your lungs were on fire. He didn’t give you much time to catch your breath, though. When he pulled his soaking fingers out of your hole, he was mesmerized by the shine coating his skin. You watched as he shakily brought the same hand up to his own mouth, and put the dripping digits on his tongue. 
Jisung moaned and screwed his eyes shut at the sensation of your slick on his taste buds. “Fuck I need to taste you properly.” 
Before you even registered what he meant, Ji leaned over and buried his face between your thighs, immediately running his tongue through your folds. 
“Ji too sensitive!” You tried to pull him back despite your moans, pulling at his hair but he only whined into you and made a slurping sound. It was positively filthy. It made your head spin and your brain fuzzy. 
He only stopped once he had his fill of the goodness between your legs. When Ji pulled back the whole bottom half of his face was covered in your slick and his pupils were blown up so big they encompassed his entire eye.
He took in your fucked out expression as he licked his lips, not willing to let even a drop go to waste. He always knew he was a munch but it had never been truer until this particular moment. Jisung already longed to suckle your nectar from you once more, even though he was there seconds beforehand. 
Instead of acting on his urges, he pulled your sweats back up over your hips and gave you another wet kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and it made you shiver. Your own hand slowly made its way to his crotch but he caught your hand before you could grab at it. 
You pulled away from his kiss in confusion.”Do you not want me to make you feel good too?”
 His cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Don’t worry about that, baby. I already got mine.” It took you a second to realize what he meant, until your eyes dropped to the wet patch that was starting to appear through his sweats. 
“Oh.” you giggled, trying not to embarrass him. It was honestly flattering that he came in his pants just by touching you. 
“Next time I’ll hold out for you, promise.” He had a dopey grin as you kissed him again. He was just too precious. 
A voice from outside the tent startled you both, “If you two are done fucking in there, breakfast is heating up then we’re gonna hit the road, so it sure would be swell if we could pack up this tent.” Minho. 
You covered your face with your hands, as Jisung screeched, “We were not fucking in here, you twat!” 
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“Wow, someone woke up on the right side of the tent this morning.” Hyunjin eyed both you and Jisung when you crawled out of the tent a few minutes later. Jisung still had that dopey grin on his face and you had that sex glow you get after you cum. Hyunjin would know, he’s made you do it. 
“Morning Jinnie.” You smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him. He returned your kiss briefly, before pulling away and pressing a kiss to your nose, causing you to giggle. Jisung skirted off, (you assumed to change his pants).You looked around and noticed most of the camp was already put up. Wow, that was a really quick camping trip. You can't fault them, though. It was pretty impromptu. You noticed every milling about, picking up, except Felix and Chan. “Where’s Lix and Channie?” 
Hyunjin grimaced, “Well, uhh, the hormones you release when your uh, releasing, is a little too much for Felix when he knows he’s not allowed to touch you or anything, so he had to separate himself for a while. He stormed back to the beach and Hyung followed after him.” 
Your eyes found the trail to the beach and with a mind of their own your feet were marching towards it with purpose. You were worried Chan was being mean to Felix and your omega needed to comfort the beta. Hyunjin was shocked as you just took off out of his arms, and he didn’t know whether to stop you or let you go. Thankfully (or maybe not) he didn’t have to stop you. 
Before you could register the presence behind you, a hand snatched your arm, keeping you from proceeding. “You’re not going down there, omega.” That was the harshest you’d ever heard Minhos voice, it made you gasp at how assertive he sounded.  
You snapped your neck in his direction, fire lit in your soul at being told no, again. “And why not, Minho?” 
His cold eyes stared into your fiery ones, “It’s not your place to interfere with the Alphas business. You’re staying right here with us.” 
You both could feel the other five pack members watching the interaction, but neither of you gave a fuck right now. 
“You’re not an alpha, you can’t make me do anything, Minho.” You challenged with a shaky voice. 
His eye twitched and he tilted his head in a nearly menacing way, “ You wanna bet?” 
Your nerves were slipping, unable to help the tremble of your bottom lip. “ Chan said I was the woman of the household. I think that's justification to go where I please.” 
His grip on your arm tightened as he growled, “Yeah. You’re a woman. Not a man. Know your place.” 
You gasped at the gall of his statement and tears sprung to your lash line. A sourness overtook your normally pleasant scent, cascading out of you in waves. “What the fuck is yo-”
“Ok! That’s enough of that!” Changbin was the one to break the tension, removing you from Minho who let you go instantly. The alpha took you in his arms and away from the beta. Minho scoffed as you were rescued, rolling his eyes and going back to his tasks. 
“What is wrong with him?!” You were seething, trying to turn your head to glare but Changbin wasn’t having it. 
“Nuh uh, baby. You just keep looking ahead, no need to get even more worked up.” He was trying to be as calming as possible, attempting to release soothing pheromones to alleviate the tension. He set you down on the open hatch of the truck bed. 
Changbin may have been an alpha but his scent wasn’t as assertive as Chans so it was taking you longer to calm down, “Seriously Binnie, what the fuck is his problem?!” 
He sighed, running this hand through your hair. “Baby, you can’t just challenge Min like that.” 
You huffed in protest. You wanted to roll your eyes but thought better of it. “He started it” 
Binnie chuckled, “It doesn’t matter who started it, baby. You gotta understand his position in the pack hierarchy.  There’s a right and wrong way to handle things. Minho is the second in command in our pack, he is directly under Channie Hyung and that means he deserves the respect of someone in a position of power.” 
Your lip was trembling again as more tears sprung to your eyes, and you let your head fall to face your lap. “When he said to ‘know my place’,  he reminded me of my father. He would say that to me and my mother all the time.” 
“Aww baby, come er.” Changbin cooed and pulled you into his chest as you cried. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like your father did. It’s all politics, omega. He’s not quite used to being challenged like that. Especially not by our resident sweetheart.” 
“Still hurts my feelings.” You grumbled, wiping your wet cheeks. 
“Mm I know, baby. Let alpha make you feel better.” He began to pepper kisses all over your face, making a show with the loud smooch sounds. You couldn’t help but to giggle as your tears stopped. 
“Ok ok! I feel better!” You laughed and tried to push him off. You hugged him when he finally stopped his kiss attack, nuzzling into his chest. “Thanks Binnie. You’re good at making me feel better.” 
“I always got you, omega.” He pressed a final kiss to your lips then noticed a mass coming up from the beach trail. “Looks like things are ok over there too.” He flicked his head to make you turn your attention. 
Coming up the trail was Chan, with Felix on his back. The alpha was giving a piggyback ride to the younger beta. Felix still had slightly puffy eyes as if he had been crying previously, but now he had a gentle grin as they entered camp. Felix said something in Chan's ear, making the alpha laugh as he set him down. 
Able to pick up the rigidity in the camp, Chan’s eyes flitted around until they locked on yours. He had a questioning look on his face as he took in your puffy eyes then he sent a look to Changbin. The younger alpha lightly shook his head, his eyes flickering over to a tense Minho then back to Chans. Chan sucked his teeth and nodded back. 
Chan set Felix down by the tents where Hyunjin and Jeongin were finishing packing them up and he made his way to you. Changbin gave you a swift kiss and backed away as Chan appeared, giving him a fist bump before going on his way. 
“He’s fine, if you were wondering.” Chan pulled you into him, his chin resting on your head. “Just got himself a little worked up.” 
“I was really worried for him..” you breathed out timidly. “I was scared you were, umm…” 
“Oh I see, you were scared I was punishing Felix again, huh?” He murmured softly. You nodded in response. “My nurturing little omega just wanted to make it better?” 
“Yeah, alpha” Your voice croaked, thick with more on coming tears. “But Min stopped me…He was so mean.”
“Mmm, I know baby. Ya know, I love how much you care about Lix and the other boys.” You nodded again. “Means you're a good omega. A perfect one for this pack.” 
That made you purr in response, feeling vindicated.
 “But,” Shit, nevermind. 
“You gotta let your alpha handle things. Felix and I were only having a conversation, baby. I wasn’t punishing or scolding him. You would have felt pretty foolish storming over there in the middle of our heartfelt conversation, huh?” 
Hmph “....maybe” 
Chan laughed, rubbing your back and planting a kiss on your head, “And cut Min some slack, he can be a dick but he doesn’t mean it most of the time.” 
“Ugghhhhh do I have tooooo?” you pouted dramatically.
“Yes, baby. Where’s my nice, forgiving omega, hm?” He was using his scent to persuade you. 
“M’ right here.” You melted into him, showing your submission. 
“There’s my girl.” Luckily with you pressed against him, you missed the sly smirk he sent Minho- who was balking at how easily he got you to calm down from across the campsite. “I love you, baby.”
“Love you too Channie.”
“Looks like we’re about ready to go. And I don’t know about you but I am ready for a shower.” He laughed.
You sniffled and pulled away from him, “Yeah you stink.” 
He gasped dramatically, “maybe you’re not nice after all.” He hoisted you into his arms as you shrieked a laugh. He had you over his shoulder so you smacked his ass and in return he gave you one back then laid a bite into the side of your thigh, causing you to shriek again. “Let’s roll!” He called out to everyone else, who had just finished getting ready to depart. He sure did love efficiency. 
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The ride home felt like it went by way quicker than the journey there. Chan let you pick the music again and you both belted the words to every song together. He didn’t make fun of you when you did little dances to each one (ok maybe he poked fun a little bit). The alpha adored how goofy you could be, and how every day he gets to see more and more of who you are inside; not just what the omega traits gave you. 
The truck pulled up to the house after the others had already arrived, and the pack was already moving everything back where it belonged. You had been bummed the trip had been so short, but now being back home you felt relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from you at no longer being stuck in the woods in a tense atmosphere. 
After helping move some things and taking everyones dirty laundry into the washroom to be dealt with later, you all had gone for showers and naps. Some of them were still hungover from drinking too much (Jeongin and Felix mostly). 
You went into Chans bathroom to find him already turning on the water, “Wanna shower with me, my love?” 
You were hesitant to reply, remembering the last time you were in that shower together, and how you were punished. 
He could tell you were apprehensive, “It’s just a regular shower, baby. Nothing scary this time, promise.” Chan held out his pinky to you, his eyes crinkling with his endearing grin. When he’s so cute like this, how could you deny him? 
“Ok, Channie,” you looped pinkies with him, then you took off your clothes and joined him in the shower. He didn’t touch you sexually this time, and you were grateful for it. He didn’t think you would be ready for it in this particular shower, anyways. That doesn’t mean you didn’t get a smattering of smooches from him, though. Sometimes he can’t keep his lips to himself, he guessed he was like his pack brothers in that way when it comes to you. 
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Once you were cleansed and clothed - in Chans shirt and a pair of shorts, naturally - you padded down into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Jisung was already there, on his phone. 
“Hi love bug.” he greeted you with a kiss. “ I'm ordering pizza, Bin has been complaining that he’s gonna ‘ die of starvation’ if he doesn’t get a supreme asap. What kind do you like?” 
“Hmm, I wouldn’t say no to a hawaiian.” You sipped your drink you got from the fridge. 
“Don’t let Hyung hear you say that.” You felt a hard pinch on your right ass cheek,
“Ow!” 
“He hates pineapple on his pizza” Seungmin snickered, dodging your tiny fist. “My vote is only get hawaiian, really stir the pot in here.” 
“Yeah that's what we need.” Jisung replied sarcastically. “Let’s not piss off the alphas please.” 
“You’re no fun, Hannie” 
“I am fun!” 
At this point you made a swift exit out of the kitchen, staying out of the mini spat. “I swear, they fight like an old married couple.” you murmured. 
“I heard that!” 
“No you didn’t!” You called behind you. 
You ventured into Chan's room to gather his and your laundry, then back down into the laundry room. You hadn’t realized how much it had built up in the last few days, so getting it done was a top priority for you. 
It was about 40 minutes later and you were putting the second load in the washer when you heard a pounding at the door. It wasn’t a gentle knock but more like a rapid banging. You listened for a moment and didn’t hear anyone go to the door so you did. ‘Jeez the delivery man must be in a mood today.’ you thought cynically as you made your way to the entry. 
You now heard harsh whispers coming from the door as you got closer. 
“I told you it was done, Brynn. You can’t come around anymore.” Seungmin, but who was he talking too? 
“You dump me over text and now you won’t even explain why! What kind of bullshit is that? It’s been a week of radio silence from you.” It was a woman's voice, shrill and whiny. 
You could see Seungmins back as he addressed the girl at the door, and you could make out her blonde hair over his shoulder. 
“We weren’t dating. You made it perfectly clear when we started hooking up you didn’t want a relationship. I don’t have to explain shit to you.” He was trying to keep his voice even, as if he really didn’t care. He probably didn’t. “What’s done is done, Brynn. Don’t act like a spoiled child just because you don’t get my dick wet anymore.” 
The woman looked over his shoulder as you came into view, her catty eyes narrowed at you then at him. “Who the fuck is that?” 
Minnie turned his head to catch a glimpse of you, before sighing and pointing away, “Baby go back to the living room with the boys.” 
 “Oh I get it now.”  The woman, Brynn, let her nostrils flare as she zeroed in on you.  “you left me for some omega whore.” 
‘What the fuck did I do?’ 
“You don’t know shit.” He bit back at her, now getting fired up. You stepped closer to him despite his order to leave, now only about a foot away. This girl was starting to piss you off, and you already had enough rage leftover from your altercation this morning. 
“No, I get it now.” She smirked evilly, “Look at the bruises on her legs, you guys are all sharing her huh?” 
“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything about our pack.”  He growled at her, glaring daggers. 
“What’s the matter? Mad I got it right? Maybe if you weren’t such a beta loser you could get your own girl, instead of sharing some used up who-” The beta woman didn’t get to finish her sentence before you ducked past Seungmin and slammed your fist right into her left cheek. “AHH what the hell!” she clutched her face as she screamed.  
“Y/N!” Seungmin grabbed your waist pulling you back, he was instantly shocked by your behavior. And maybe a little turned on.  “Don’t, she’s not worth it baby.”
“I’ll show you whos the fucking loser! Don’t you ever speak to him like that again!” You tried to swing your fists again but Minnie had already pulled you too far away. 
“Seungmin control your fucking dog!” She snarled, still clutching her red cheek. 
“Oh my god why is something always happening in this entry way?!” Jisung shrieked as he ran to see what was going on. Chan and Changbin were right behind him. Brynns scream must have alerted them all to trouble.  
“Take her now!” Seungmin tried to hand you off to Chan but you gripped onto the door frame, refusing to let go. 
“No! I’m not done with her!” You were raging, the angriest you had ever been. 
“Omega let go now.” Chan used an alpha command on you, making you release instantly. 
“That’s right, go back to your master.” Brynn sneered. 
“Next time I see you, it’s on sight bitch! Count your days!” You screeched, pointing at her as you were hauled away. 
As you were pulled through the house you could no longer see nor hear the commotion at the door. Chan knew Seungmin would be telling her off and making her leave. “What the fuck was that?” He set you on the couch then crouched to your eye level.  “Did you hit her?” 
You crossed your arms, a snarl still embedded on your face. “If you heard what she was saying you’d wanna hit her too.” 
He sighed, running a hand down his face, “Omega, you-”
“No!” He gave you a hard stare for interrupting him. “Sorry, alpha.” you winced. “ But I couldn’t stand there and let her say that about him! Something came over me and I just had to protect him from her. I have never felt such raw adrenaline before, it’s kinda like I blacked out and before I knew it, my fist was on her face!” 
“I get it baby, you needed to save your minnie from the mean girl.” You nodded. “And I bet you were still feeling the intensity from this morning huh?” 
“Yes, alpha. I’m sorry.” You sighed, trying to let the emotions go but failing miserably. 
“All I’m gonna say is, don’t make it a habit of hitting people. Only warning.” He kissed your head, “But she really did deserve it, that chick sucks.” 
“You should have seen the look on the pizza guys face when he pulled up to Brynns ugly crying face! He looked horrified!” Han held the pizzas in his arms as he passed you on the way to the kitchen. “Also, super hot of you to hit her, baby.” 
Chan groaned and you giggled, “Ji I’m in here actively trying to teach her violence is not ok, we don’t need your encouragement.” 
“Oh lighten up, Hyung. That bitch deserves it.” 
“That’s what I’m saying!” You agreed enthusiastically. 
The alpha threw his hands up exasperated, before standing and stomping to the kitchen. He wouldn’t admit it but it was super hot seeing you all fired up like that. Seungmin and Changbin came in next. Changbin ruffled your hair, “Hey there, good job slugger.” 
“Get off!” you pushed his hand away, laughing. 
Seungmin was next to crouch in front of you, searching your face for any harm. When he found none there his eyes moved down and zeroed in on your hand, that had begun to bruise already from how hard you slammed it into the other woman's face. 
“What the hell were you thinking?” 
“I wasn’t.” You admitted to him, shyness overtaking you under his scrutiny. 
He scoffed, somewhat amused. “Clearly.” He grabbed your bruised hand and ran his thumb gently over the knuckles. When you hissed in discomfort, he brought the skin up to his mouth and gave it a tender kiss. “Next time, let me handle it.” 
“As if,” you muttered with your own scoff. “I won’t let her or anyone else talk to you like that. You’re not her toy to treat like crap. You don’t belong to her.” You spat the last word like it left a bad taste in your mouth, and the beta noticed. 
“Oh omega, is someone feeling a little… possessive over her Minnie, hm? You want me to belong to you instead?” He had his devilish grin on. 
“No!” you protested, “...Maybe. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” 
He laid you on the couch with a shove, before climbing over you. You gasped and put your hand on his chest, eyes wide. “Don’t you worry about it, baby. As far as I’m concerned I’ve been yours since the spaghetti o’s.” 
“Ugh don’t bring that up again.” you turned your head to avoid his eye contact and he took the opportunity to nip your neck. “Minnie get off!” 
“Yeah get off her! The little savage needs some fuel to keep fighting for her men!” Seungmin was shoved off playfully by Changbin. 
You could hear Chan yell from the kitchen, “No more fighting!” 
“Yes more fighting!” 
“Jisung, enough!” 
“Ok ok, sorry.” 
“Who’s fighting?” Jeongin ran in looking for the commotion. 
“No one is fighting, Innie.” You replied, sitting up. 
“Yeah, not anymore. You missed Baby smack the shit outta Brynn.” Changbin said eating a slice. 
“Baby hit Brynn? No way she sucks!” Hyunjin entered now, trailed by a sleepy Felix. 
The younger beta gave you a look of pure surprise, “For real, you actually hit her?” 
“Uhh yeah, I did.” You felt sheepish now that they all knew. 
“Wow. Our precious baby is showing us she’s not all bark and no bite huh?”  he blinked away his shock, him too entering the kitchen. 
Suddenly, a roar was heard from the head Alpha, 
“Why does every pizza have pineapple?! Jisung?!” 
“Oops!”
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Lunch was filled with them all poking fun and teasing you for your altercation. Most praised you (making your brain short circuit) and told you how insanely hot they found it. One beta in particular couldn’t stop letting his imagination wander. He decided right then that he would give you a reward instead of punishing your behavior. 
When you had all eaten you meandered back to your self appointed chore, telling them all to bring their laundry bins down and you would begin taking care of it. While you were folding some of the done pile, a figure came up behind you. 
You shivered when he brushed your hair away from the side of your neck, and he placed the other hand on your hip under your shirt. “When you’re done here, come up to my room, omega.”
Seungmin’s voice was gravely as he lowered it to a whisper. He laid a light kiss to the skin of your neck, and you whimpered, nodding your head in agreement. “Mm, good girl.” 
His hand traveled down to your butt, giving the cheek a single squeeze before he pulled away from you completely, and exited the room as if he was never even there.
You felt your breath return to you once he was gone, only now realizing you were holding it in the first place. With shaky hands you continued, wondering how the hell you were supposed to get anything done after that. 
In actuality you managed to get another load in the dryer and finished folding the one you were working on within about an hour. You set the basket of folded clothes in Chans room, not expecting to see him chilling on his bed, playing on his phone. He smiled when you walked in, setting his phone down. “Hey baby, are you gonna come snuggle with me?” he held his hand out for you. 
“Umm,” you grabbed his hand but didn’t sit. “Minnie kinda asked me to go to his room already..” 
“Oh, I see.” He smirked cheekily, “Well before you go take one of these,” he reached over and handed you a little packet of pills. “Bin picked up your birth control prescription yesterday. Make sure you take it every day .” you nodded before popping one out and sticking it in your mouth. He handed you some water to wash it down. “Now don’t let me keep you then, my love.” he let go of you and sent you off. 
You left the room, and went to the door you knew led to Seungmins room. You steeled your nerves before timidly knocking on his door. You heard a faint “Come in, baby.” so you opened the door and entered his space. You hadn’t been in his room yet, you weren’t expecting it to be so colorful. He had a few hanging plants draping down from his ceiling. The back wall was dark green, and the rest were off white, making the room look larger. Shelves lined the walls that were filled with books. 
You closed the door behind you, and were hit with the encompassing scent of him. The smell was delicate like a thunderstorm. “Hi Minnie.” You twiddled with your thumbs, unable to meet his gaze. 
He chuckled, “ Hey Omega. Won’t you come here?” He was sitting at the mahogany desk in the corner where he beckoned you to him. You shuffled your feet until you came to stand right in front of him. “There she is, my girl.” You preened at his sentiment, the omega inside begging to hear him say it again. “You like that? You like it when I call you mine?” He yanked you into his lap, letting you feel how hard he already was under you. 
He leaned you back into him as he cradled your jaw, tilting your head and giving you little licks into the skin there. “Y-yes Minnie.” 
“Oh I know you do, baby. Here in this room, you belong to me. You’re my girl alone when you're in these four walls, do you understand?” He knew he was laying it on thick but he needed to train you early. He nipped at your skin roughly. 
“Mhm I understand Minnie.” you were whimpering, melting into his hold. He could see your nipples harden under your shirt, pleased you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. 
“Go lay on my bed for me, and take your clothes off.” 
You scrambled off of him when you register what he says, literally flinging your shirt off and tripping lightly when you pull your shorts down. He held back a snort, opting to bite his lip instead. You turn around to face him before you pull off your panties, giving him a full view of your breasts. You tried to keep eye contact with him as you unhurriedly pulled your panties down and let them drop to the floor.
If anything was true about Seungmin; it’s that he was very good at keeping his composure. On the outside he appeared calm and collected as he watched the sexiest creature he had ever seen settle herself on his bed. But on the inside; he was losing his mind. All he wanted was to ravish you, tear you apart and put you back together again. He had let the tension with you rise for days in anticipation for this moment, and he felt like a dog with a bone. More like a puppy. 
The quilt on his bed was a mauve shade and had diamond shapes stitched into it. It was soft on your skin as you laid upon it, helping quell the fluttering in your stomach. You clutched it as Seungmins' predatory stare raked over your form. From your position on his bed he could see the glistening between your legs and his mouth began to water. 
You noticed where his gaze was pointed and it made you feel kind of dirty, the way he had his fixed stare on your most intimate parts had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you released a scent thick with arousal. 
“Look at you, dripping and writhing when I haven’t even touched you yet.” He stood from his place on the chair across the room, palming his bulge through his sweats. “ What am I gonna do with you, pretty girl?” He tore his shirt off, taking a step towards you. “Should I stretch you out on my fingers?” Another step. “Should I eat your pussy till you cry?” Now he was at the foot of the bed. “Or maybe I should make you cum on my cock till you pass out?”  
That had you absolutely panting, eyes blown at the suggestion and your thighs clenching. The arousal was coming out in thick drips and drenching the intricate quilt below you. It would surely take months to get the scent out. Not that he would want to. 
“Option 3? If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll give you what you want.” He licked his lips, itching to grab you but wanting to hear you beg for it. He wasn’t going to touch you otherwise. 
“Please, Minnie.” You whined softly, feeling modest, your face heating up. 
“Is that all you got?” He scoffed and took half a step back. “You must not really want it that bad.” 
“I do, Minnie I want it!” 
“You want it? You want my cock?” His eyes narrowed at you as he smirked. 
You nodded rapidly, “Uh huh.” 
“Then beg me for it, omega.” 
You attempted to take a staggering breath as your lip trembled. 
“Minnie, my Minnie, please, please have mercy on me, and fuck me. Please, Seungmin.” 
A rumble came from him as he pounced on you. He slipped his pants off hastily as he crashed his mouth to yours. His tongue invaded your mouth and his hand groped your chest, the combination being staggering for you. You moaned when he gave your nipple a firm pinch. His pelvis pushed back into you when yours bucked up looking for friction. 
“You really are a needy little thing, rutting into me like a horny little puppy.” He was condescending with his words, mouthing at your lips with cruel nips. “What happened to that feisty omega that took on the world today, huh? Where’d the snappy guard dog go?” He licked your bottom lip messily. “Show me how bad you want it, puppy.” 
You animatedly thrusted up into him, grinding on his clothed member. He could feel the slick coming off of you and soaking into his boxers. 
“Awe you’re so wet omega. Can feel you practically water logging my dick through my boxers.” He grunted, shuddering when you bucked again. 
You were quickly falling deeper into subspace, surrendering yourself to him completely. His dominant aura and attitude was sending you spiraling into the abyss. “Mhmm, wet for my Minnie. Wan’ you to fuck me.” 
Seungmin lowered his head to suck on the opposite nipple than the one he was pinching, nibbling on the hardened bud. 
“I’ll fuck you, puppy. Give you what you need.” He sucked harder, and your hand shot to his hair. “But first you gotta  give me what I need. Make yourself cum, wanna see the look on your face when you rut on me so hard you cum.” 
“B-but I..” You whined, “I don’t know if I can.” 
He quickly slipped a hand down between where your bodies met and gave a slap to your core. You wailed at the sharp pain. “I’ve told you before, I don’t care if you can, the fact is you will.” He smacked again. “Get to it.” 
Seungmin slotted his thigh between your legs to give you more friction. You thrusted up into him again and hooked your thigh over his hips, grinding harshly into him. The fabric of his underwear over his member caught on your clit. Your head fell back into his pillows and you moaned. You repeated that motion over and over again, being so turned on you were actually getting off in it  
“Seung, s-so good.” 
He returned your rutting with one of his own, making you cry out as the knot in your stomach was building. 
“Minnie, I think m’ gonna, gonna…”
“Go ahead, my obedient little pup, let go for me. Make a mess.” 
With his permission you felt your orgasm take over, making you shake with pleasure. “Unngghh” Your ‘o’ face was even better than he imagined, eyes shut tight and drool coating your lips as you moaned. It was the both most gratifying and beautiful thing he had ever seen. 
He barely let you finish your shaking before he had you suddenly flipped over so you were on your stomach. You let out a gasp in surprise. Seungmin leaned back on his heels and yanked you up by your hips, until you were on your hands and knees presenting for him. He admired the way your pussy spasmed from your leftover orgasm and he swiped a finger through your juices, swirling it around before he shoved the finger inside. You squirmed as you whimpered again. He hummed in appreciation, “ I love the noises you make for me, omega. Let’s see how loud you can get.” 
You heard a crinkling sound behind you, so you turned your head around to the sight of him rolling a condom down his length. He had abandoned his underwear at some point and you hadn’t even noticed. When it was rolled on completely he took his cock and rubbed it through your folds, not yet pushing in. His lithe hand ran over your shoulders, barely touching as it trailed down your spine. 
Seungmin laid a harsh smack to your ass cheek when he got to the bottom of your back “ow, minnie!” He didn’t respond, choosing to snicker in amusement when your flesh ripped from his treatment. He entered the tip into your dripping hole, giving a moan at the squelch that emitted. 
He let go of his cock go and opted for giving your ass cheeks a punishing grip on each side, spreading you open for him to get an even better view of your pussy and the other little pink hole that you hide from him. You let your head fall in embarrassment when he seemed to take his time gazing directly at your most intimate hole. Seungmin let his saliva accumulate in his mouth before he leaned close and stuck out his tongue, the spit he collected falling off the tip onto your puckered flesh. 
You shivered when you felt it hit you, eyes wide with slight terror at the prospect of him penetrating your ass. He could sense your fear and chuckled with his signature evilness. “Don’t worry, Puppy. Minnie’s not gonna fuck your ass… today.” your sigh of relief was cut off when his thumb swirled around in his own spit, not pushing in but definitely testing the waters. “Doesn’t mean I can’t play with it a little bit, though.” 
All at once he pushed his length into you completely and also his thumb entered just slightly. Even the tip of this thumb was a stretch for you. The sensations made your back arch and a loud howl break from your parted lips. You had only moments to adjust to him, as he gave your ass another sharp smack and began his thrusting into you from behind. 
Desperate cries were falling from you and Seungmin snuck his hand back up your spine until he found purchase at the base of your neck. He squeezed the skin there and used the grip he had to tilt your head up to face the ceiling, wanting your moans to be projected out. “Let em’ hear it, baby. Let the pack hear who’s making you bark like this.” 
His jarring words made another bout of slick build up and drip out around his cock. The wet, sloppy sounds were resonating off the four walls, making it seem louder with the constant echoes. 
“Mm, I’ll never get enough of this pussy drenching me. Wettest I’ve ever seen, fuck.” He squeezed your neck a little harder, making you choke on your moans. “God damn you look so good with my hand around your neck. Maybe I should get you a collar, make you wear it around like I’m always there giving my girl a good squeeze. My puppy can wear my initials on her pretty neck.” 
“Minnie, please oh my god.” You rasped out between cries, feeling your second orgasm starting to build within you. You clenched particularly hard on him when he pushed the thumb just a touch further into you, stretching your previously untouched cavity. 
“Fuck, omega. Clenching down on me so fucking tight. Gonna make me cum.” 
You whimpered, “Wan you too, wan you to cum please Minnie.” You were begging, tears steadily streaming down your face now, just inches away from cumming yourself. “Wanna cum too, please, please.”
“Since you asked so nicely, make a mess for me, pup. Cum.”
Your eyes rolled into your head as you wailed, toes curling and spurts of slick shooting out from around him. Feeling how hard you clamped down on his dick made Seungmin not be able to hold back any longer. He spewed curses and deep growls as he came, filling the condom with his thick essence. His mouth was salivating and he gave into his urges, leaning up to your shoulder and chomping his teeth down into the flesh just above Felix's bite. Your blood filled his mouth as he bit, and you cried louder than you had the whole time he’d been fucking you. The beta let go of your skin and licked his lips, pupils blown wide.
You were quaking when he removed his thumb from you, giving you a few minor thrusts as he let go of your neck. Seungmin gave you a few tender kisses on your back, trying to bring you back down to earth. 
When the beta pulled out of you, you felt your legs give out and your face planted into his bed with a groan. He gave a chuckle at how cute you were directly after being fucked. You were floating, drifting in hyperspace you didn’t notice when he laid down next to you after disposing of the condom. This is why he toyed with you for days, knowing the buildup would make it all the more intense for you. 
He lifted you to be directly on top of him and he wiped the drool from your lips. “Not done yet, omega. Need you to bite me now.” He pet your hair and hauled you closer, basically shoving your face into his shoulder. “Give it to me, let everyone know I’m taken by you, baby.” 
You did as you were told, almost on instinct, bearing your teeth and digging them into his flesh. He groaned huskily, eyes snapping shut when he felt the pressure. 
“Thata girl.” He held you close to him as you lapped at the wound you made on him, feeling more intimate than anything else you had done with him previously. Now you were positive he loved you, he doesn’t seem like the type that would go around receiving bites for just anyone. 
When you had diligently licked it clean you pulled away from the skin, tilting your head up the best you could to look at him. His pupils were still blown out, making his eyes look almost completely black. His hair had fallen into his face and the sweat had made it stick to his skin. He was panting as if he had just ran a marathon, a deep flush in his cheeks. In all honesty he looked positively immoral.  
You didn’t look any better, you could bet you looked how you felt; exhausted. Exhausted from all the adrenaline of the day and from all the orgasms that had been pulled from you today. 
“You did so well fo’ me, baby.” He managed to say when he caught his breath.He pet the side of your head and wiped the blood off your mouth.
“I did?” You mumbled, coming out of your trance-like state. 
“Mmm, the best. Listened so good to your Minnie. Made me really proud of you.” He gave you a tender kiss. You sunk into him, purring in delight at his praise. You pulled away first, feeling the fatigue you rested your head down on his chest. “You can’t fall asleep yet, we gotta get you cleaned up first.” 
You pouted but still let him scoot out from under you and pick you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom to begin wiping you down and cleaning your newest bite mark. Afterwards he carried you back to his bed, and dressed you in one of his t-shirts. It’s about time you paraded around in his clothes too. 
It was only mid day, but he let you rest under his covers and laid down with you as he turned on a show on his laptop. You snuggled into him and immediately felt at peace. 
You were able to murmer one last thing before you fell asleep, “Love you minnie.” then you passed out, letting sleep take over. 
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When you woke up, the sky outside the window had darkened to a deep orange. For a moment you laid there, eyes half open as you came to your senses. You could tell that you were still in Seungmin's room, and that he was laid next to you. You heard the faint voices coming from the laptop on his lap and his almost silent snorts when something was particularly funny on his show.
“Wha’ time is it?” you mumbled, turning your body around to face him. 
“Hmm? Not that late,” He looked to you then to his phone, “ it’s almost 6:30. You’ve been asleep for about four hours.” 
“Four hours?” You started to panic, worried about the chores you were doing. You sluggishly went to get up but he put an arm over you, preventing  you from moving. 
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“V’ gotta finish the clothes. Don’t wan’ anyone to be mad at me.” your voice was still heavy with sleep. 
He had the most unbelieveing look on his face, “I just fucked you within an inch of your life, and you’re worried about the laundry?” 
“Don’t say it like that!” you tried to pout. 
He broke out into a laugh at how cute you were, “Pup, no one is going to be mad at you right now. You finished enough today, you’re allowed to take it easy. There are no more obligations tonight, you’re in the clear to stay here with me tonight. If you want to.” 
“I do, but Channies not upset?” 
“No, omega. I already checked in with him. We’re all good.” He kissed your cheek, smiling when you giggled. “You should eat, does leftover pizza sound ok?” 
You thought for a moment, then nodded thankfully. “Mmhmm, sounds great.” He kissed you again then he scooted off his bed, and went down to grab food for you both. When he brought it back up you both sat up and ate together. He occasionally poked fun at you and you did it back to him. A playful, easy night was exactly what you needed. He may not have said the words ‘i love you’ but he showed it in his own ways. You felt it in how he played with you, and took care of you when you needed it. 
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A/N: my apologies to anyone named Brynn, and also apologies for the pack tension or lee know stans.
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!
Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii <3
©doitforbangchan
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pedge-page · 3 months
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Wait ok hear me out. Bored preggo wife starts reading smut and finds she really enjoys a breeding kink/men getting real nasty and aggressively talking about breeding their woman. So she asks Joel to try it and when he does, she’s like grossed out “uhh… nevermind” and he’s so fuckin frustrated and blue balled 😂
Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Role Play Me Not
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Notes: Thank you for your patience with these requests lately, this one was from March and I've been thinking about it ever since!
warnings: almost smut, lots of dirty talk and degrading language, and usual shennanigans with these two
18+ ONLY
- - - -
It’s pretty late, Joel’s body is wracked, and nothing feels better than the foam mattress bed he’s curled up on. You had a pretty good day, judging by your happy soft hums and scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Hopefully whatever nonsense thing you’re gonna purchase with his card and surprise his doorstep tomorrow morning won’t be too harrowing, but for now, he’ll live with it if it means some rest.
But your incessant giggles, matched with the way you’re shrinking under your brightly lit phone reading something so furiously just begs Joel to ask:
“What are you doin’?”
“Nothin!” You quip quickly, rotating best you can so he can’t see the obvious thing you’re hiding on your phone.
“Okay.” He tosses the cover over his shoulder and presses his head back into the pillow again to close his eyes.
Obviously not the answer you wanted, so you loudly snort with your fake ass ‘Tee Hee!’ again because this motherfucker better take the god damn hint.
He sighs. “What.”
“Hmm? Nothin!”
Joel squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. You can’t see his face from your side, but even if you could, he doesn’t think it would deter you.
You clear your throat before uttering your loudest and most obnoxious giggle.
“JUST—!” Tossing the covers down and rolling to his back, he remembers to take a breath, channeling his calm bear voice. “—just show me already. Please.” He’s exhausted, rubbing his face with both hands before holding out one palm behind him for you to place your phone.
You excitedly shove it in his grasp, and Joel rolls over to see. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, so he collects his reading-glasses from the tableside and props them upon his nose.
Its quiet for a solid minute, and your heart is racing as he stare at his broad back, the fabric of his shirt all stretched tight to accentuate that massive man of man that is your manly man—
He rolls back over with a questionable uncertainty, fear and paralysis mixed with concern and shock.
You’re giddily nodding your head, lips tucked under your teeth from the excitement. “Can we do that?”
He opens his mouth but no words come out. He doesn’t even know where to begin. 
“This is—uh. you like…this?”
“Well I don’t know, but I wanna give it a try…”
He scratches his skull with two fingers, hoping it’ll dig deep enough to itch the bad feeling he has in his brain. “I don’t know, baby, It’s a bit … much.” 
“But you call me your pretty slutty wife sometimes! It’s not much different!”
He glances back at the vivid words on the screen. It is VERY much different than that. But you put on your famous puppy pout, with those big round gleaming eyes, trembling fishy lips staring up at him, topping it off by squishing your tits together so they’re bursting out of the nightgown and smashing into his chest.
That’ll do it.
He shrugs, chucking his bifocals behind him with renewed energy arousing his body, especially down south. He gets to his knees, pulling your cover off from your lap and tracing his big hands over the soft expanse of your thigh like a new toy. you bite your lips, shouldering off your spaghetti straps so your tits are close to being popped out. He rolls the soft fabric of your gown up your growing belly and presses his lips against the swell. “Shit, that’s what I like to see. Gonna be a little fuck toy whore for Daddy to play with?”
“Ah…time out.” You hold your hands in a T formation. He stops rubbing and looks down towards your face. 
“Uh—yes?”
“I don’t like whore.”
“Ah okay—Daddy’s fuck toy?”
“Ok that’s—mmm.”
“What? No good?”
“It’s just ok. We’ll work on that. You can keep going.”
He shakes his head a little but resumes his gentle ghost of his fingers and lips, cascading lower until the scratchy prickle of his beard is at your naval. “Bred ya nice n’ good huh? Little breedin’ stock just f’me—“
“Oh hold on.”
“What.”
“Breeding ‘stock’? What am I, chicken soup?” You chuckle.
He purses his lips. “I don’t know, it was in the damn fic you made me read!”
“Okay okay, sheesh!” You toss your hands up.
“Can I please keep goin now?”
You nod, and he commences lower. 
“Body was made for breeding. Now spread those petals—“
“Oh what I’m a flower now?”
“Damnit, Baby! Am I doin this or not??” He curses. 
You go quiet and nod again, shrinking in against the headboard.
“Just about had it with ya whinin’, baby. I should tie you up like the naughty cow you are—“
“Farm metaphor again?”
“N BREED YOU—“ he seethes, gripping your thighs and hitching them around his hips so you can feel his bulge press into your core. “Breed you over and over again, like the dumb little cum dump you deserve—“
“Ugh hold up this position isn’t comfortable I need ta—“ you wiggle out of his grasp and begin trying to alleviate the pressure your baby is putting on your spine. Joel all but abandons holding your legs as he sits on his knees in front of you with his thumb and finger pressed tightly into his eye sockets. 
You wiggle and roll, unable to find a good position to sink yourself comfortably. The bed shifts with each turn, and Joel is damn near done role playing with you and about to just fuck you with your face down in the mattress whether you wanted to or not when—
“Okie! I’m ready Daddio!” You announce. 
You’re in the exact same position.
“Are we good to continue?” He asks slowly, his frustration being held at bay along with his hard cock that’s begging for some action finally.
You nod. 
He finally tugs his dick out and positions it at your entrance, spitting onto your slit. “Now shut up, take this fucking cock, and let me fuck my seed into you cuz that’s all ya good for—“
“Ya know what.” You wave your hand over this whole scene. “I’m done. This is … no. Nevermind, I’m done with this. M’ready for bed now.”
You slap his cock away like it’s a needy hand and roll to your side, slinking the cover over your shoulder again and turning off your light with a little grin. 
Joel just falls back on his haunches, his cheeks puffed red, balls swollen blue, fully awake all over, with a grumpy cat-worthy scowl etched into his face staring down at you.
- - - -
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thankskenpenders · 1 year
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Amy's fortune cards
The Sonic fandom has long been the kind of fandom that takes minor details very seriously, for better or worse. On the one hand, this means fans will really dig for the diamonds in the rough, latching onto fun character interactions, animations, bits of background worldbuilding, and more in pieces of Sonic media that many would write off as "the bad ones." But it also feels like every week another needlessly hostile debate over Sonic minutia erupts on Twitter, whether it's over individual lines of dialogue, fanart that makes Tails' shoes blue, or the ideal length and volume for Sonic's quills.
So it was probably inevitable that a fandom-wide debate would erupt upon seeing Amy's new gameplay style in the DLC for Sonic Frontiers, which takes the once-obscure fact that she enjoys reading tarot and shines a spotlight on it like never before.
I mean:
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The thing is, while I basically always try to tune out Sonic fandom bickering... for once, I kind of sympathize with the detractors? Don't get me wrong, I like Amy's tarot stuff, and people on all sides of the discussion are being overly nasty about their opinions, as usual. (Sonic Twitter remains my personal hell.) But when I set aside the hyperbole and zoom out, I do think I understand why some fans are put off by the sudden shift in focus for the character, even if I think it's cool.
It's complicated. Let me attempt to present the cases for and against Amy's fortune cards
For years, I was always one of those fans who thought it could be fun if they played with Amy's tarot reading, or even leaned into some kind of magic with her. Part of that is my own biases showing, but there's just something that makes sense there, especially when you look at Sonic, Tails, and Amy as a trio. (I would argue that's the real "Team Sonic" these days, especially in the comics where Knuckles is more likely to be stuck on Angel Island or otherwise doing his own thing.)
You could argue that Tails is all about logic, relying on science and technology and deductive reasoning to solve problems. But Amy is all about emotion. She wears her heart on her sleeve, is extremely empathetic, and is very prone to magical thinking - both figuratively and sometimes literally. Her origin story has always been that her tarot cards told her it was her destiny to meet Sonic on Little Planet. She's claimed to be able to "sense" peoples' presences - particularly Sonic's. She's the type to believe that The Power of Love is a literal magical force. So, on some level, it makes sense to mirror Tails's science by having Sonic's other best friend believe in magic. And then Sonic is somewhere in the middle, primarily following his own gut instincts but taking advice from both of them as needed. This isn't totally accurate to how their dynamics actually function in canon stories, but I think it's a mode that could work for them.
Going off of that, it's fun to lean all the way into Amy being a magical girl, or even a witch, using her fortune telling as a foundation. Take, for example, this version of Amy from Diana Skelly's old Sonic cast redesigns from before she freelanced for Archie and IDW. This is one of MANY such redesigns for Amy.
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Fast forward to the 2020s, and Amy's tarot cards are, in fact, finally getting brought up again in canon. Which is fun! I like seeing that. I like all of the individual stories involving Amy's fortune cards. This is a fun character trait for Amy, a fun nod to old lore, AND a fun storytelling device, all in one. It's really cool that the Sonic universe has its own thematically appropriate arcana, and that the cards are getting made as physical merch. And sure enough, the official card backs and borders were designed by none other than Diana Skelly, in yet another cool example of an ascendant fan leaving their mark on the series.
BUT... when you step back and look at the big picture, I get why some fans find this shift in focus jarring. At the moment, it's starting to feel like every new story about Amy involves her fortune cards to some degree.
The most recent mainline comic arc to feature Amy as the lead character, 2021's Trial by Fire arc, prominently features a sequence where she reads fortunes while camping with the girls. The Origins version of Sonic CD now bookends the game with scenes of Amy and her tarot cards. Sonic randomly mentioned it in a scene in Frontiers. And now, just this week, we got the (very cute, gorgeously illustrated) Amy's 30th Anniversary comic with a story revolving around Amy's tarot cards, followed the very next day by the Frontiers DLC in which she gets a brand new tarot-based moveset. Even her base melee attack now has her throwing tarot cards instead of swinging her hammer. Again, I like all of these individual things, but after years of it almost never coming up at all, it's VERY noticeable that Amy's tarot cards are suddenly everywhere.
To be fair, I'm looking at this from the perspective of a superfan who's actively following ALL Sonic media. Casual fans - especially kids - aren't necessarily going to be reading the comics every month, buying the thousandth rerelease of the Genesis games, or playing the ultra-hard new alternate ending DLC for a game that came out last year. Each of these stories is going to be someone's introduction to the idea that Amy can read tarot, and that's probably part of the idea behind this unified push.
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But to play devil's advocate, for my fellow superfans, I understand why it feels like a very minor footnote of Amy's character is suddenly becoming the entire focus of her personality. While Amy has always been said to enjoy fortune telling, that wasn't really a character trait in and of itself, but rather an example of her being a typical girl who hopes she'll be able to find true love one day. It's less that Amy can literally predict the future and more like her using a cootie catcher or going "he loves me, he loves me not" while picking the petals off of a flower. So I get not vibing with this stuff, or feeling like it's being pushed very hard out of nowhere.
What I don't agree with are comparisons like "it's like if they made Knuckles' moveset revolve around him liking grapes." Like, I get it. Ian Flynn loves shoehorning in his little winking references for us nerds, and mentions of Amy's tarot cards were previously on the same level as other random bullet points from old Japanese manuals. But a multifaceted hobby like fortune telling that opens up so many narrative and aesthetic possibilities is obviously very different from having a favorite food. It's ALWAYS been a part of her story, not just a random fact, and there's no reason why the fortune telling can't be elevated to something more.
And, hell, even if it wasn't an established character trait, there's nothing inherently wrong with injecting new ideas into a character. One of the best Amy stories in recent years, the Free Comic Book Day special "Amy's New Hobby" written by Gale Galligan, came up with the idea that Amy's secretly been drawing little comics about her and her friends. Is this based on Lore? No. But it's cute, and helps tell the story of a younger Amy who's still coming out of her shell as both a hero and a friend.
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Certain fans are also looking at Amy's Frontiers moveset and using it as evidence that once again the Vile American Contributors like Ian are CORRUPTING Sonic Team's perfect vision of Sonic with their misinterpretations. And like. Come on. Ian does not control the gameplay. He's a freelance writer. The tarot stuff is clearly something that Sonic Team likes if they made it the basis of Amy's new moveset - and, you know, if they keep approving comics and animations about Amy's fortune telling. None of this gets made without their blessing, and lord knows how much they can micromanage shit and shoot down ideas over the most minor of details.
Like, yeah, Amy's fortune telling was probably conceived less as a sign that she Knows Magic and more as a pretty mundane hobby for a lovesick young Japanese girl to have. But you're gonna sit there and tell me that using Amy's tarot cards for more than that could only be the result of a cultural misunderstanding? That nobody in Japan uses tarot card theming and aesthetics (or the general idea of magical cards) for the cool factor? Stardust Crusaders? Persona? The Astrologian class in FFXIV? Cardcaptor Sakura?? Hello??? Do you think Capcom put Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom ironically because they thought using magic to throw cards at people was stupid? There's tons of precedent for this! It's nothing like Knuckles throwing grapes at people, be for real.
Giving Amy a very magical girl-esque moveset also just makes a lot of sense. For decades her hammer attacks have literally made sparkly heart shapes appear around her. Leaning into both that and her tarot cards in her new moveset makes a lot of sense to me.
But, admittedly... I do think it's very odd that her hammer is treated as a secondary element here, rather than having her primarily use her hammer and adding the cards for extra flair. If hitting the attack button made her swing her hammer instead of throwing cards, I'm not sure we'd even be having this discussion right now.
But the tarot-cycle and Amy riding her hammer like a witch's broom are fucking SICK and I will not concede on this point
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The thing is, this whole fortune card discourse is but a small piece of a bigger problem. Amy's been a character who needed some work for ages, but there's basically nothing you can do with her without pissing SOMEONE off.
Years of stories where Amy's crush was her primary motivator and Sonic went "Ew, cooties!" have lead many casual fans to believe that being Sonic's obsessive fangirl is Amy's entire personality. At best people might call her Sonic's Minnie Mouse. This isn't just a matter of Amy having haters within the fandom - venture outside of that bubble and you'll realize that this is how MOST video game playing people seem to see her to this day. I don't feel like this is a fair assessment of the character, but this idea didn't come from nowhere. No matter how much good deeply entrenched Sonic fans may see in their old dynamic where Amy perpetually chases Sonic, this is a very real problem that Sonic Team has to contend with for their leading girl. Of course all those games where the way-past-cool protagonist thought Amy was annoyingly clingy and tried to get away from her made people think less of her.
If new stories were to go back to emphasizing Amy's crush on Sonic a little more, they'd probably be taken as confirmation that Amy's just the girl with a crush on Sonic and that this is her entire personality. Conversely, when the crush is played down, you piss off the hardcore SonAmy fans who don't seem to understand that they're Charlie Brown and Sega is Lucy holding the football. You can't win.
And so here we are. In the absence of what was once her defining trait, now reduced to an occasional blush or wink in Sonic's direction, new stories are trying to mine Amy's past for additional material to work with. Having been a thing fans wanted to see for years, right now we're getting a lot of tarot, but we're also getting reminders of her compassionate nature and her desire to go out of her way to help the little guy. This is an ongoing process. I continue to hope that her bubbly, exuberant demeanor can shine more in future stories. Now, I also hope that the tarot stuff gets balanced out a little better with other traits of hers. But I don't want it to go away. I think it's fun.
This course correcting is far from exclusive to Amy. Knuckles is getting stories that remind us that he's a competent fighter, an experienced treasure hunter, and even a self-taught archaeologist after years of him being perceived as either the dumb one or just the guy who stands in front of the Master Emerald all day. And Tails has been getting some stories reminding folks that he's a capable hero in his own right and not just Sonic's timid kid sidekick.
But no supporting character will ever compete with the sheer number of new ideas Sega has tried with Sonic himself. Like Amy, his Frontiers moveset has also given him half a dozen new superpowers that he never had before, from the Cyloop to air-slicing projectile attacks to his own take on Shadow Clone Jutsu and beyond. He's also been a hoverboarder, a swordsman, a time traveler, an Olympic athlete, a racecar driver, cursed with a Flame of Judgment, imbued with alien power, a fucking Werehog with stretchy powers, and on and on and on.
If Sonic can do all that, Amy can try out using a tarot-cycle.
Anyway TL;DR the REAL problem with Amy's current characterization... is where the FUCK is Amy's bestie, Honey the Cat???????
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First of all, biiiig congratulations on 5k!! I can't tell you how many times I've binged your masterlist since I found your account but I love, love, LOVE how you write and all of your different characters, though sweetheart kook!reader is probably my favourite!
I was wondering if I could order a homemade gelato 🍨 from your celebration menu with a moodboard for frat!rafe x tutor!reader and headcanons for how Rafe (more specifically frat!rafe — I love frat!rafe 🤭) would act in a relationship with a mid-size/chubby!reader.
I know you haven't something like that yet, but I would love if you could, because a girl's gotta indulge in Rafe content with her own body type sometimes and I've seen so many people on here act like Rafe would exclusively date skinny, petite girls and I wholeheartedly do not believe that, because, in my opinion, if Rafe's whipped for someone he's not gonna care about superficial stuff like that.
Anyway that's all xx
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frat!rafe x chubby!reader who are pda monstersss, they love showing affection for eachother, no matter who or how many people are around. frat!rafe who is obsessed with dressing chubby!reader, always taking her out shopping and picking out her outfits for her. chubby!reader who loves how touchy and protective rafe is with her. “gotta make sure everyone knows you’re my girl, right?” he’d wrap his arms around your waist, pressing kisses to the curve of your neck. frat!rafe who shows you off proudly, flaunting you like a trophy at all of his parties. chubby!reader who can’t go ten minutes without being groped by rafe himself.
frat!rafe who never holds back on showering you with compliments and praise until you feel like you’re the only girl in the world, which in rafe’s mind you are. chubby!reader who goes to sleep thinking of her man, and is so so so smitten by him. frat!rafe who begged chubby!reader to sit on his face when it was their first time being intimate together. “i don’t know.. what if i hurt you?” rafe couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. “are you fuckin’ kidding me? get over here.” he’d drag you on top of him, your boyfriend so pussy drunk afterwards he knew no one else was capable of doing this to him.
chubby!reader who sits in rafe’s lap, per his request. frat!rafe who keeps his girl fed!! he loves to take her out, but loves cooking for her even more. “tell me how it tastes, baby.” he’d pull his bottom lip between his teeth as you nodded with a moan. “wow, ray, i love it!” you’d peck his cheek. “you’ll be my dessert afterwards.” rafe would wink before serving himself. chubby!reader who sends pictures of herself in a new miniskirt while rafe is in class. ‘what do you think? 🤍’ you’d press send, knowing he was going to go crazy when he saw your message. ‘i think i need to ditch this lecture and bury my head in those thighs.’ rafe replied before barging into his room soon after.
frat!rafe x chubby!reader who try to be quiet during sex but to no avail, always end up not caring who hears. frat!rafe who was so cocky when he fucked you standing up, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your tummy while he thrusted into you. “mm, fuck- i don’t ever wanna hear you say you’re too heavy for me again.” he’d grunt in your ear, quite literally throwing you around like a rag doll. chubby!reader who rides frat!rafe with his fingers digging into her skin while he watches her tits bounce in awe. frat!rafe who looks at you like you’re not real when you move on top of him, his head empty as he listens to you make those pretty sounds of yours.
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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months
Text
Crushing (Secret Admirer pt 6)
Steddie Week 2024, July 6: Dizzy / drunken confessions / Crush on You by Bruce Springsteen
Fun fact: there are “sorry”s to correspond with a nat 20. It’s a luck thing, though more reflexive than actually hopeful. 
If you turn 6 upside down it's a 9 and today's the 9th, so I would argue that I am still right on time. 🙃 Anyway, I didn't get to the drunken confession part but it was getting too long, so that can be in the last chapter. Enjoy!
wc: 3034 / rated: T / set during season 3 / also on ao3
Sweet Steve, perfect Steve, golden Steve,
Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry SORRY
I cannot adequately express how much I regret hanging up on you. It happened a few minutes ago and I’m already writing this because I can’t call back now, not after that. I can’t believe I even did that, I’m so stupid. I’m so stupid because you were saying all these perfect things? Literally everything I never thought I’d get to hear from anyone ever and then I ruined it. 
(The scribbles in the margins are representative of all the times I stop writing just to explosively cuss myself out for being so chickenshit. It looks messy but I am a mess and it’s all my own doing, made my bed and lying in it etc. etc., if I could mount my own head on a pike right now I would Jesus H. CHRIDJDBBWLSNEVEOALAVSVALAMDBDBXJXLFKENSVAVWUELMFBDUSKANS <— an example and demonstration)
I’m sorry I’m a coward. I’m sorry I started this and can’t seem to follow through, I’m sorry I keep yanking you around when it’s not what you deserve sweetheart, it isn’t at all. You were perfect, do you hear me? I had a whole list of songs planned, but picked that one spontaneously because you weren’t digging WASP and I was thinking about the way you’re so hard on yourself sometimes about the guy you were in high school, even though all high schoolers are idiots. (With how many times I’ve had to repeat, I am an expert on this, obviously largely from personal study and reflection.) You didn’t peak in high school, Steve, because you are a wonderful person right now and that’s what matters. You call yourself a romantic sap but I love that about you, please never lose that. 
With every letter you’ve poured out a little of your soul; it only seems right that I try to do the same to make up for my… everything. 
I’m a guy. I’m gay. I’ve never written that down before so explicitly but it’s true. You were so thoughtful about the whole music thing and trying to show we can have common interests but, to be blunt, unless dick is one of those I don’t think this is going to work out. 
No hard feelings obviously. It’s on me for letting this go on so long without being more honest. This is absolutely no reflection on you and does not make you queer by association. I won’t tell anyone—though if I did I’m not considered credible or trustworthy in this town, believe me. 
If you’ve read this far… I mean, I won’t know unless you tell me, obviously. But it doesn’t have to mean anything other than that you’re a good dude. The only person in my life who knows about me and knows my name is the man who’s more like a father to me than my “real” dad; it’s nothing personal, I’ve just had some bad experiences. Remember that concussion I mentioned? … Yeah, that was courtesy of the ol’ sperm donor. Thought I was over freezing up about it after more than half a decade, but no such luck!
On that note, I need to go… not be a person for a while. Take care. I remain, as always—
Your Secret Admirer
P. S. The song you said you liked was Rainbow In The Dark by Dio, off his Holy Diver album. It’s a good album, even if I’ve blown it with you I still hope you check it out sometime. 
Eddie drops the pen over the side of his bed, practically throwing it. He drops the notebook he’d scribbled the letter in to the floor; he’ll tear it out and mail it later. 
Probably. 
Maybe. 
He’ll think about it, once he’s done not wanting to think anything at all. 
~
Dear Secret Admirer,
Are you okay? I can’t call you back, so the best I can do right now is write. I shouldn’t have pushed you again, I keep doing that, like an idiot. 
I was having a nice time
Call back whenever, if I’m there I’ll pick up. Call back tonight even, except I can’t get this in the mail until tomorrow so never mind, but I won’t be mad, I promise. Or you can write to me. Please. At least to be friends, if you’re tired of how I always come on too strong (which is literally what Robin keeps telling me with that damn whiteboard all the time, go figure). And maybe you can tell me more about your music, like that one with the rainbows? I think that maybe you’ve been writing to me so much because maybe you’re lonely too, and I know how much that sucks. 
So, I’ll be here. Whoever you are, wherever, I hope you’re okay. Stay safe. 
— Steve
~
All Steve can think about is how stupid he was, pushing Secret Admirer like that. He hasn’t gotten a letter yet, and genuinely doesn’t know if he ever will again. 
Robin doesn’t ask why he’s quieter than usual during work for the next few days. Dustin returns from Camp Know Where and Steve tells him he doesn’t want ice cream because he has to stay in shape for the ladies, but it leaves the bad taste of a mostly-lie in his mouth. 
Because, oh yeah, breaking news: he thinks Secret Admirer is probably a guy. 
That would explain the adamant secrecy, the way the letters are careful not to suggest one or the other. No matter how embarrassing Steve is, a girl would have less to lose compared to a gay dude being outed in Hawkins. And he knows for a fact there were rumors circulating after Jonathan Byers gave him his first and mildest concussion in ‘83. Rumors about what he’d said, what he’d spat at the guy, all no doubt spread by Tommy and Carol. All his past actions coming together to prove that he can’t be trusted, can’t be confided in, even after everything. 
It’s almost secondary that it doesn’t seem to make a difference to his feelings. He may have fallen for someone who happens to be a guy—so what? It’s better than crushing loneliness. Better than no one caring. Better than being forgotten aside from his douchebag legacy at school and all his parents’ dashed aspirations for his future. 
Then Steve finds himself trapped in a Russian elevator with Robin, Dustin, and Lucas’s little sister (who should absolutely not be here, what the fuck were they thinking) and he just. 
He just regrets never getting to say goodbye. 
Eddie gets Steve’s letter the day he manages to crawl out of his room long enough to mail his own, checking his PO Box like a nervous tic. He’s absolutely floored by what he reads and screams into his pillow some more because it doesn’t change anything, because Steve wrote it while still not in possession of all the facts. 
After a drive out to Reefer Rick’s to replenish his stash, Eddie does the bare minimum of his regularly scheduled drop-offs. No rest for the wicked, because even the wicked need gas money and shit, but it’s all just halfhearted busy work. 
Then he goes home. Against all common sense and knowing that for the sake of his own heart he probably shouldn’t, he spends the rest of the day trying to call. Every time he punches in the numbers with his heart in his throat, but no one ever picks up. 
~
“Ask me anything,” Robin prods blearily from her stall. “Interrogate me.” 
Steve tries to think through the swimming in his head. “Okay, uh… When was the last time you peed your pants?”
“Today!”
He almost laughs. “No way. What?”
“When the Russian doctor brought his bone saw out. It was just a little bit though!” 
He can picture her holding one hand up, fingers pinched together to indicate a tiny amount. And, okay, fair. “Yeah it’s definitely in her system,” he mumbles to no one. 
“My turn,” she declares. “Have you… ever been in love?”
Steve does laugh this time, not because it’s funny but because the question hits him right between the eyes. “Shit, yeah, a couple times. Uh, first was Nancy Wheeler, junior year.”
“Ooooh… She’s such a priss, though.”
“Yeah, turns out, not so much.” He shrugs, even though she can’t see, hands dangling from where his arms are draped over his bare, scraped knees. There isn’t a part of him that doesn’t ache—including his stomach and throat now, fucking Russian drugs. 
“Huh.” Robin pauses. “So… who was second?”
Sighing, Steve drops his head back against the metal divider at his back. “That blind phone date I told you about.”
It’s a toss-up as to whether he’s admitting this because of the aforementioned drugs or because he’s just too tired to give a shit anymore. What does it really matter, at this point?
“Really? Wow. Okay, I didn’t realize that got so serious.”
Steve lets his eyes fall closed, despite what is likely his third concussion in almost as many years. “It kind of didn’t, I just got… over-invested, I guess. I don’t know if he’s going to write again anyway.”
“H… he?”
“I think so. It was a secret admirer kind of deal, so I never actually knew, but… every time I brought up meeting in person, things went wrong. And like an idiot I kept doing that, so. I don’t know for sure, but I think it might be over.”
Robin’s hand smacks on the tile floor—gross. “How do you not even know for sure after a phone date? Gay guys still sound like guys, Steve.”
“I know that,” he says, a little stung by her reproachful tone. “I talked and he didn’t, he just played some of his favorite songs for me to see if I liked them. Which I did, some of it. It was like, really hard rock or something, not what I usually listen to—”
“I’ll say, Mr. ‘No, Not My Wham! Cassette!’”
“—but it was okay. There were some really cool guitar parts.”
“And it… doesn’t bother you? That a guy was, uh, hitting on you?”
Again, Steve shrugs. “More writing love letters than just hitting on me, but… yeah. I was in pretty deep by the time I figured it out, but I guess not. Is it my turn to ask another question?”
“Um… Sure?”
He’s not sure why she sounds so nervous, figures it should be obvious what he’s going to ask next. It’s kind of a staple of their friendship at this point. “Who sent me that ice cream cone? The strawberry with rainbow sprinkles?”
Dead silence. 
“Robin?” he asks with a flicker of nerves, because, well. It’s been a long day. (Or two days? He’s lost track of how much time they’d spent underground.) “You OD over there?”
“No… I am alive,” she replies, but in such a quiet voice that it doesn’t really reassure him all that much. 
He shifts, scooting on his ass to get under the divider between them and pop back up on her side. It gives him a wedgie, but that’s the least of his problems. 
Robin wrinkles her nose at him. “Steve, these floors are disgusting.”
“Yeah, well, I’m already covered in blood and probably some puke, so.” He tests his tongue on his bottom lip, trying to decide if the split is still bleeding or if it just stings for the hell of it. “Who was it?”
She bites her own lip, then whispers, “Is it your secret admirer?”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure,” he tells her. 
“Okay.” But she’s still hesitating. “Before I tell you… About what I said down there, about Click’s class. I wasn’t staring at you because of you, it… it was because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
Steve blinks, confused by the sudden change of topic. “Who? Mrs. Click?”
Robin shakes her head faintly without breaking eye contact, literally without blinking as she whispers, “Tammy Thompson.”
“But she’s a… Oh. Oooh.” He remembers Tammy. She’d always fawned over him in that class, back when he’d been so busy mourning the way things had gone with Nancy that he hadn’t given her the time of day. “Yeah, I guess I see the appeal. Pretty, perky, blonde… She’s a total dud though.”
Robin gapes at him. “What?”
He waves a hand. “I’d just broken up with Nancy, and she was all over me all the time, dropping these hints about wanting to go out. It’s like she wanted to be a rebound relationship.”
“So? She’s goal oriented!”
“She wouldn’t leave me alone! Also, she wants to be a country singer but she couldn’t hold a tune if someone put it in a bucket for her.”
Sputtering, Robin smacks at his shin, one of the few places he isn’t bloody or bruised. “I will not take this superiority from the guy who’s surprise-crushing on Eddie Munson!” 
Shock zings through Steve like he’s just had his fingers jammed into an electrical socket. “On—really?”
He remembers Munson too. Who wouldn’t? Loud and weird, and the guy had always seemed perpetually on, always bristled like a porcupine. Stalking around campus in a black leather jacket regardless of weather and ripped black jeans. (Dark colors.) That denim vest with all the weird band patches on it. (Music that Steve didn’t know anything about.) Big flashy rings on his fingers, and Steve knows he’s in some sort of band, probably has guitar calluses. (Hands that would give him away at a glance.) Up on cafeteria tables with his Hellfire Club shirt and long hair, taunting the jocks who gave his friends shit. (Nerd, check. Not into sports, triple check. He’s pretty sure the dude had failed gym at least once for refusing to wear gym shorts.)
Literally the last person in Hawkins who should’ve had eyes for King Steve.
“Munson likes me?” Steve can’t feel his face too well, what with the beating he’d taken earlier during interrogation, so he’s not sure if he’s blushing. His voice definitely does something funny on the last word, though. 
“He said not to tell you who it was from because he thought you might toss it if you knew it was from him,” Robin admits. “Which seemed like a reasonable concern at the time, but that’s because I didn’t know—”
But then Dustin bursts in on them. The kid looks frazzled, and from there on out it’s all running and more blood and a monster made out of people and fireworks and death, their bathroom conversation forgotten. 
~
Eddie had given up on calling around the time the fireworks show started over the mayor’s kiss-ass 4th of July fair. Downed a couple beers while trying not to wonder if Steve found a date to take. Is still awake when Wayne comes in from his shift, and wanders out of his room because anything’s got to be better than staring at the ceiling. 
“Starcourt burned down,” his uncle tells him while Eddie moves zombie-like through the motions of making them each a cup of coffee. “Radio said the police ain’t ruling out arson. Drove past it on the way, there’s search and rescue folks crawling all over the rubble lookin’ for survivors.”
After Wayne goes to bed, Eddie tries dialing Steve’s number one more time. 
No one answers. 
~
After much pleading from Robin, and since Steve’s car keys are still god knows where and his parents are out of town, the Buckleys graciously agree to let him stay in their guest room. It’s just as well, Robin insists; with the concussion, someone should be around to check on him every few hours. 
“That’s only for the first twenty-four,” he points out the next day. He knows the drill. 
“I don’t care,” Robin insists. “You took a beating to protect the rest of us. You could have been killed, Steve! I am checking on you every few hours for the rest of my life from now on, just see if I don’t.”
“Please don’t,” Steve groans, but he’s grinning. Despite the way his ribs and head throb, and the dark circle under the eye that isn’t literally still swollen shut, it’s nice to have someone to be normal with—not ignoring what had happened, he’d learned his lesson about that with Nancy, but taking it into account and then going ‘yes and.’  “Or at least make sure to always knock first.”
“Why w—Ew! Never mind, if you’re feeling good enough to make jokes then you’re probably fine, offer rescinded.”
“You’re still gonna,” Steve points out, then knocks back the painkillers she’s brought him. Mr. Buckley’s shoulder surgery prescription, meet two broken ribs, black eye, and recently re-set nose. 
She sits on the edge of the bed, next to the duffel bag of clothes from his house that her mom had driven her to pick up for him. “Yeah yeah, shut up.”
Silence settles over them for a moment while Steve tries to get comfortable. And fails. His ribs really aren’t doing him any favors today. The discomfort is why he’s still in unflatteringly baggy shorts borrowed from Mr. Buckley and a t-shirt Robin had thrown at his head as a joke (and then helped him out on, since he can’t lift his arms that high without wanting to scream) that declares him a fan of Siouxsie and the Banshees. 
He has no idea how to pronounce Siouxsie and is kind of afraid to ask. 
“Sooo,” Robin starts. “Eddie Munson, huh?”
“Uh.” Steve can’t run a hand through his hair with his stupid ribs, not when he’s not running entirely on adrenaline or before the painkillers kick in, so he settles for twiddling his thumbs. “Yeah? I guess so. His letters are… They’re really good, Rob. I kinda don’t know why he keeps writing when my replies are so crappy. Like… I can’t even do them justice trying to explain.”
“Huh.” She waits a beat. “Well, I checked your mailbox, just in case, and there was a hand-addressed envelope that I brought back for you—”
Ribs be damned, Steve lunges for that duffel.
Tag list (and if you missed the earlier chapters check the "#secret admirer steddie" tag on my blog): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere
@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop
@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites
@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart
@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva
@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister
@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao
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egg-but-with-style · 3 months
Text
Butcher ghost 3
1 2 3
You and Simon had been going on a date every week for the past month, and things couldn't be going better. The first date was a little awkward, he seemed a bit flustered, and you were too. After that though, you too hit it off.
He'd talk about butchering sometimes. How to get the best cut from any butcher store you go to, even though with him around you'd never need to go anywhere else.
You'd talk about your work and he'd listen intently. Looking at you with those big brown doe eyes. He was kind of like a dog in that respect. When you two were together he was right at your heel and never wanted to leave.
He made you feel special, like you were the only person on the planet he'd ever want to be with. He'd trace his finger on your stretch marks around your upper arms and shoulders whenever you two would wait in line somewhere.
It was maybe going just a little bit fast, and he was really observant, like he knew exactly what you wanted, but you were just happy to find someone who fit you so well.
Tonight would mark your 5th date with Simon. Of course you guys talked outside dates, but it always felt better when you could spend the day together.
You were standing outside his flat, the one above his butcher shop. Holding chocolate in cheese in a little grocery bag, he had said he had a little fondue machine he got from a very thankful customer he always wanted to try out. Plus who didn't love chocolate and cheese?
You knocked gently on his door, noting the absence of a doorbell. You heard him walking to the door, a man that big always made noise. Then you assumed he stubbed his toe based off the muffled "fuck" he just uttered, then he opened the door and smiled at you.
"You look good luv, I mean you always do, but especially now." He looked at you like you hung the stars above his head. You didn't know how he could get this deep this fast, but you were happy, and he was happy. "Oh stop it, I knew what you meant. You're looking very handsome too." He blushed just a little, or atleast you think he just did, he had rosacea so sometimes it was hard to tell. He then motioned for you to come in. "C'mon, it's getting cold out there."
You did as he said, stepping into his flat. It was decently big, you assumed being a butcher and having your own shop would probably pay enough to cover rent.
You went over to the kitchen counter and set down the cheese and chocolate near, what you assumed to be the fondue machine. He came over and plugged the machine in, confirming your assumption, he then picked up the chocolate that your brought. "I hate to admit it, but I got a real bad sweet tooth. Almost as bad as my taste for meat." He refrained from saying you satiated both his cravings. You giggled. Everything about Simon seemed to contradict his size sometimes.
"I do too, I also like cheese, like the little baby bells? I love those. Man, I should've got those for the fondue."
"There's always next time."
You smiled. Feeling that warm feeling spread in your chest. He wanted to invite you over again. He was just too good to be true. You realized you had kinda zoned out and stared at him for a minute, so you spoke up, trying to break the awkward silence.
"Yeah, next time." You looked away for just a second, his gaze could be a tiny bit overwhelming sometimes. He let out a sigh of content, then put the stuff in the fondue machine. Watching it melt in the pot. It was actually a pretty sight, colors swirling around.
He then went to his fridge and pulled out strawberries. Placing them down on the counter, along with some skewers. "Dig in." He hated to admit it but some part of him did like watching you eat, like right now as you skewered one of the strawberries, placed it in the molten pot of fondue. Watching you blow on it to cool down and harden, and once it did, you took a bite. Then you looked back at him, a bit confused. "Aren't you gonna eat some too?" He kept looking at you until he noticed some chocolate on the side of your lips. Which he wiped off with his finger, then licked it.
That was way hotter then you were expecting. "Yeah..yeah I will." You just giggled.
After you two were done with the fondue, with slightly burnt tongues because neither of you were patient enough to wait for it to cool. He suggested a movie, to which you agreed to, and the implications.
Now you to were sitting on the couch, watching some movie you put on without looking. He was so warm, his arm pressing you into his side, your shoulder laying in the crook of his neck.
It felt so peaceful, so right. Like the rest of the world could fuck off. As long as you too got to stay right here in this moment. Eventually he got distracted from the movie, instead looking at you.
His fingers moved on their own, cupping your cheek. He seemed so enthralled as he stroked his thumb up and down. Eventually putting his lips to yours.
His lips were a little chapped, so were yours honestly, but whatever bad texture there was, was made up for by action. His tongue slipping into your mouth, the lingering taste of fondue. It was slow, careful, like a pair of virgins exploring eachother, trying to make sense of what it meant to be intimate.
Then your bladder protested and ruined the moment, you sighed and Simon got off you, worried. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He was so sure he didn't do anything wrong. You just shook your head, alleviating his fears. "No it's not your fault, I just...I gotta pee." He looked instantly relieved, was he always this wound tight? "Oh, okay just making. The um..the bathroom is down the hall to the left"
With a small noise of disapproval, he let go of you, but he knew you'd come back. "Be quick, or else" he said in that tone that made you know he was joking, which took a while to get for the record. You just scoffed and rolled your eyes "I will, don't worry."
You headed down the hallway where he pointed, you reached the end and saw two doors. He said the bathroom was on the left but..you were kinda curious. Simon was so kind, loving, you felt his phantom touch on your skin, the lingering taste of his tongue in your mouth, and as much as you wanted to get back as soon as possible, you couldn't help yourself.
You took a quick glance back down the hallway, he seemed really into the movie you put on so you figured a quick snoop wouldn't hurt.
You slowly, quietly opened the door and looked inside. Seemed normal, then you tip toed in, taking a quick glance around, it seemed pretty normal. A bed, a night stand, a lamp, and a couple book shelves. Though he had a knife collection, made sense for a butcher. You turned to leave the room, feeling a little bit bad you invaded his privacy, but as you went to the door you saw something on the wall.
Photos. So many fucking photos. They weren't of your dates, oh no. They were taken of you while you were going about your day, usually around early morning or dusk. You eating breakfast, or going to work. You leaving work and walking home, you going out with your friends. Most of them focusing on you face, or your stomach, some were even dedicated just to your stretch marks, rolls and curves, All of the pictures having been taken from atleast a hundred feet away.
You should've been terrified. You should've been feeling your heartbeat out of your chest, you should've been running out of the house. Escaping and reporting it to the police.
But you weren't. You were just in awe. It felt.. romantic in a way. The photos, the angles, like he saw you as something above the normal person. It felt like worship.
He was calling you now, but you stayed put. What was wrong with you? Why were your cheeks flushed instead of pale and drained of blood from fear? Why did your heart soar instead of drop to your stomach?
Why did you smile when he came in and saw you looking at them? "It's..it's beautiful, Simon." He looked stunned, you were stunned too. You didn't think you were sick like this.
You should've seen a stalker when you looked at him, but all you saw was your loving boyfriend. "You..you like them? You aren't..scared?" You just shook your head. Taking his hand and giggling. You felt some shame, but all of it floated away as you felt his warm hand against yours.
You were so happy he liked you this much. To the point where he'd clearly spent hours following you. It made you feel more loved then you ever had, and you'd tell him as much. "You really like me, huh? Like really, really like me." He just nodded. He really wasn't sure what to say.
He was trying to see if you were lying, but you were so genuine. He thought he was gonna have to kidnap you if you saw the photos but instead you were hugging him and putting your mouth to his ear "I love you, Simon." He hands found a place on your lower back. He let out a deep breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Pressing his forehead onto yours. "I love you too, my girl." You're his. His girl. It made your heart jump up and down in excitement.
"You don't hate me, right? You aren't gonna run away if I don't tie you down?" He had pulled back just enough to see your face, and your elated expression. Watching you shake your head
"I literally just said I love you. You don't have to tie me down to get me to stay, but..I'd like it." You giggled, being a slight tease. He groaned in response. Relaxing at last. You were just as crazy as him. "Maybe another day, tonight I just wanna..go slow." And for the first time in his life, he did.
After that day, you and Simon were even closer then ever. About a year later, he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. To which you said yes. Now the butcher shop was run by two big freaks. You both couldn't be happier.
Authors note: AHHHH okay, first series done!!! In just this week I've learned a lot about writing and I think I'm feeling some type of improvement?? I know this series kinda sucked sometimes, and I might come back one day to redo, better then ever, but I think it was decent for a first time. Also, yeah, readers a freak. (Like everyone here) I have another WIP I should probably get through, but then I might start another series, who knows. Anyway, thank you for reading, and bye bye!!!!!!
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Text
Saudade.
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Warnings: Distrust, being a hostage, mentions of death and murder, being knocked out yet again.
Part two.
Series Masterlist.
~☆~
Your hair had long since dried from your shower as you sat on "your" bed, thinking over everything that has led you to this moment.
You went from a small force user who was taken in by the Jedi and became a Padawan, to a Jedi Knight, to a newly appointed Jedi Master, to a person who went into hiding, then to a hostage for a Jedi killer.
A knock echoed from the doors to your room.
Weird, the Stormtroopers haven't knocked the past few times you saw them...
The doors opened and low and behold, there was a stormtrooper.
"Lord Vader has requested to see you, Ma'am." He stands at attention, looking forward, rather than looking at you.
A tingle went down your spine. This was it. This was how you die. "He does?"
The Stormtrooper nods his head ever so slightly. "Affirmative. He was very adamant. If you refuse, I will have to use force."
You listened to the slightly modulated voice before getting up from your bed. "There's no need...."
You walked over to the door, standing near the Stormtrooper so that he could lead the way. He grabs your bicep with the hand that's not holding his blaster, holding onto you so you don't run off.
He leads you down the hall where a few more Stormtroopers join your walk, marching behind the two of you.
To your surprise, you're not led to another room where you'll meet Darth Vader. You're led to big double doors that require a keycard and password so that they can open.
The stormtrooper you're with does what he needs, and the doors slowly open, revealing the hot atmosphere of Mustafar and the black rocks that sometimes have molten lava seep down them.
Your other arm is suddenly grabbed by another stormtrooper. They both pull you outside, their fingers digging into your arms from their firm grips. You were led away from the fortress that you had recently been forced to stay in. Now you stood in a plain open space. Black rocks covering the black ground.
They let go of your arms and immediately started walking away. "W- Hey!" You turned to face the Stormtroopers, ready to go after them, but a presence stopped you.
The presence is so familiar, making you giddy. Hopeful.
Only its more sinister. Dark
You slowly turn back around, your eyes darting around the terrain.
It felt like he was everywhere.
"You're scared." Another modulated voice speaks from behind you, but this one made it harder to understand the person's real voice.
You turn around yet again, facing him. He was big, standing almost seven feet tall. "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering."
"Still using the Jedi ways, I see." He noted, standing eerily still, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Excuse me?" You're confused, frustrated. He can tell. "Do I know you?" You meant to ask: 'Did I know you?'
He took a step, then another. His aura was so striking. You feel like you're drowning in his aura.
Maybe you could.
"What do you want?" You ask, your voice holding false confidence. "Why am I here? Are you going to kill me now?"
"If I wanted to kill you, I would have left you in that cellar to die." He told you. "I would have made sure you were left neglected and rotting in there. I wouldn't have given you your own chambers and some new clothing."
"Maybe you just want to lure me into a false sense of security?"
He stopped his steps, standing just about six feet away from you. "I get what I want. I don't wait for it. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead."
The two of you stared at each other, neither of you uttering a word. Knowing he was looking at you from underneath his helmet, but not being able to see his face made you uncomfortable, exposed. You knew he could see and feel everything about you, but you can't see or feel anything about him.
"I was on that backwater planet for business." He told you, breaking the silence as he talked about where you lived and were taken from. "Imagine my surprise when I found a Jedi."
He won't tell you that he felt your presence on that planet he marched around on foot until he wandered across your comfy little home.
Hope.
"And now what? You just hold on to me?" You question him some more.
"I do not have to explain myself to you."
"You do when it is my life!"
He stood idle, staring at you with his threatening gaze. You couldn't find a single weak spot within him. His walls were too high. Regret started to fill you, your body full of trepidation.
"You've never had your own life. I'm giving you one." He offers an outstretched hand, his leather gloves reminding you of an old friend of yours. "With me."
Your eyebrows furrow. With him?
"Join me, Y/N L/N."
A breath escapes you. "No." Your voice is firm. "I'm not joining you."
His outstretched hand balls into a fist. "You will."
Your vision grows spotty, darkness starting to grow in random spots. Your legs give out and you collapse to your knees.
"Ngh..." A strained noise escapes your lips before you went down completely, unconscious yet again.
Vaders modulated voice spoke to deaf ears.
"Do not fight me, Starshine."
~☆~
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Taglist: @songbirdcannabe @sonnensplitter @divxnee @anakinslvt @sweetcheesecakesblog @artemissunn @valsarchives @slut-4-ani @luvvfromme
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hotluncheddie · 5 months
Text
Day 5: Possessive Steve
"Rockstar"
Ao3
wc: 1.7k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, blowjobs, mention of exhibitionism
written for @subeddieweek <3
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Eddie always gets like this after a show - flighty and restless, unable to sit down. Even after a good fucking show like they had tonight. A good fucking metal fucking show. 
He just can’t ever seem to wind down, to stop, to think. 
He tried to fix it with whisky, but that didn’t go well. Not for anyone. He tried weed too and that works, sometimes, if he gets the timings right it can help him sleep. But mostly he just paces, while he waits. waits for the one thing he knows will help. Help him out of his head. Help him relax enough to go eat with the band, get some sleep tonight. Ready to start it all over again tomorrow. 
‘Hey rockstar.’ 
Steve. 
Steve smiles at Eddie’s from where he leans against the open doorway, arms crossed. He looks perfect like always; neat and put together and sinful in one of Eddie’s old merch designs. 
He strides over, pulling Steve in and closing the door, locking it and grabbing Steve’s hand, stepping in for a kiss and just as quickly stepping out again, pulling him further into the room. 
Eddie doesn’t realise he’s asking questions too close together, hands flailing, not leaving any breath for an answer. ‘Do you want a drink? Food? How was the show? Was your seat okay? Are you tired?’ Until Steve squeezes his hand and steps in real close, ghosting his mouth over Eddie’s. 
‘No, no, really fucking good, yes and no stop worrying.’ Steve mumbles, stopping Eddie in his tracks, arms limp at his sides. Steve tugging them closer by Eddies belt loops. 
Steve’s voice is low, soothing, playful. ‘My seat was perfect, I could see you so well. And….’ Steve leans in, hot breath against Eddie’s ear. ‘There was a couple in front of me tonight, wanna know what they were talking about?’
Eddie shivers, Steve stepping them back once, twice, Eddie’s back hitting the wall. Steve’s fingers digging into his waist. He waits for Eddie, eyeing him. ‘Please’ Eddie whispers eventually, mind finally catching up, body ready for what might be about to come. 
Steve smirks, dipping in close again. ‘The girl said she wanted you as her hall pass baby, and her boyfriend said okay. Said he understood.’ Steve whispers, shoving his thigh between Eddie’s. ‘My little slut. Showing off for the crowd all night. You love it don’t you?’ Steve kisses down Eddies neck. ‘I bet a whole stadium of people would pay just to watch you, just to see you like this. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’ 
Eddie chokes on his spit, writhing under Steve’s hold. His cock rapidly hardening. ‘Fuck. Steve.’
‘You’re going to give me what all those fans out there were wishing for.’ Steve’s hard length is pressed against Eddie’s hip, grinding. ‘But it’s all mine isn’t it.’
‘Yeah, yeah Steve, yeah.’ Eddie’s feels on fire, head rapidly loosing space for any thoughts that aren’t Steve and the feeling of their bodies pressed flush together. 
Steve laces their fingers and lifts them so Eddie’s hands are either side of his head. ‘Think you can keep these still for me?’ He asks and Eddie nods, he does, he can. 
‘Good, don’t wanna mess up my hair.’ Steve winks and sinks to his knees. 
The clack of his belt being undone makes Eddie blink slow and breathe deep through his nose. ‘You want me to stop just move your hands okay? But if you want to be good then keep them still.’ Steve explains as he palms eddies cock through his boxers. 
Eddie’s eyes widen, he can’t look away, can never look away from Steve when he’s like this, in control and touching. Teasing and tasting and sending Eddie insane. 
Steve slides his mouth all the way down, Eddie buried all the way in his throat. Steve breaths deep through his nose, nuzzles into Eddie’s pubes - said he likes it, having Eddie inside him like this, powerful. 
Eddie balls his fists and wills his hips not to move, sweat beading at his temples. Eddie likes Steve like this too, feels powerless. 
Steve swallows and Eddie whines, throat tired from the stage but he can’t help it when Steve is doing this, can’t help anything when he’s around Steve. 
Steve pulls off and keeps working Eddie with his hand. Lips pink and glossy with spit. Eddie groans. 
‘Feeling good baby?’ Steve asks, smiling up at him, watching Eddie fall apart. 
He nods, arms aching from holding them up, but the ache adds to his high, helps him feel grounded and under Steve’s thumb. 
Steve kissed his tip and tugs his leather pants down further, fingers dancing over his balls and towards his hole. Petting at it and pressing into Eddie’s taint, making him see stars. 
‘Steve.’ Eddie whimpers, thighs shaking and tip pearling, starting to leak. 
‘What?’ Steve asks, innocent. ‘You said it was mine didn’t you?’ He pouts and Eddie wants to thrash, wants to scream but he doesn’t want Steve to ever stop touching him, playing with him. 
‘S’yours. S’yours, always.’ Eddie pants, eyes squeezing shut, leaning heavily on the wall to keep from keeling over. 
Steve pushes his thumb roughly into Eddie’s slit, gathering the cum to slide it over his cock. Eddie’s eyes fly open. ‘Good. Eyes on me baby.’ Steve coos. ‘Now I want you to imagine all those fans are seeing you like this, who think big tough rockstar Eddie Munson could dick them down so well, I want you to show them what you really are okay baby?’ Eddie nods, frantic, not daring to move his eyes from Steve’s face, his hands. ‘Show them what a little slut you are for me, my own little play thing, can you do that baby? Cum down my throat the way all those fans would’ve killed for tonight?’ 
Eddie moans, tensing as Steve’s mouth envelops him again, hot and wet and tight. Bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks the way he knows Eddie loves. That sends him close, and reeling. 
And he does like it. Likes having all those eyes on him, the attention and praise. Even if they don’t really know him, just think he’s hot. that’s enough. It’s why he chooses pants cut extra tight, why he slices the ends off all his t-shirts, why he lets his mascara run and never wipes the sweat from his neck. He wants the crowd to want him, look at him and hunger for him. Even though they’ll never really know him. It’s okay. 
He has Steve, and Steve knows everything. 
Steve’s fingers move again, teasing and pressing at Eddie’s taint, at the bundle of nerves inside him. 
Eddie can’t help but move now, edging closer and closer. He thrusts forwards and rolls his hips, sinking deeper, filthy. Moves the way he does sometimes on stage, when he wants every pair of eyes on him, wants Steve’s eyes on him. Wants to be Steve’s own special rockstar, porn star. Steve’s anything. 
‘Oh god.’ Eddie moans, pushing in deeper and Steve holds him there, hand on his ass, other hand still knuckling his taint. Everything impossibly warm, impossibly close. Held together by this man on his knees. Eddie bucks once as much as he can, mind flashing with the movements of the night, Steves words, the lights and noise of the crowd. 
Steve squeezes and pushes and swallows and Eddie looses himself in everything. Spurting thick and hot down Steve’s throat. Chest heaving and eyes clumping with tears. 
‘’Tevie’ He whimpers, as Steve pulls away and surges up, ripping open the fly of his jeans and latching on to Eddie’s neck. Taking Eddies stiffened arms and fingers into his own. Wrapping them around his waist and holding Eddie close. 
He licks over a spot and bites, hard. No doubt it’ll be a bruise by morning, front and centre for anyone to see. 
‘Ah ah’ Eddie pants as Steve dips lower and bites again, littering his neck with blooms of red. Eddie feels how Steves fisting his own cock, bumping against Eddie’s abdomen, hot breath over his neck. 
Steve licks a long stripe from his collarbone to the hinge of Eddie’s jaw, sealing the marks and leaving a hot, wet, open mouthed kiss on Eddie’s lips. 
‘Wear your hair up tomorrow, want everyone to see.’ Steve pants, close. ‘Promise me.’ Se’s so close, the wet end of his tip slicking Eddie’s happy trail, his own cock giving a twitch. 
Eddie kisses Steve back, licks into his mouth and sucks on his tongue. Eddie eyes roll at Steve’s groan. ‘Anything, anything. promise.’ He whines, wants everyone to see, wants people to know. 
Eddie rubs his nose agains Steve’s cheek, still feeling stretched thin and fragile from his orgasm. Steves hot breath on his face. ‘Belong to you.’ He mumbles, voice high and breathy and achingly soft. But this is who he is, who he wants to be. 
Steve buried his hand in Eddie’s hair, tensing and pushing him into the wall, releasing all over Eddie’s hip and pubes. Steve pants for a moment, Eddie sinking into the warm pressure, mouthing at Steve’s cheek and squeezing Steve’s waist. Keeping them close. 
Eddie sniffs, burying himself in Steve’s neck, nuzzling and smelling him, kissing over Steve’s tanned skin. Always so pretty, so perfect. His Steve. 
‘Hey rockstar, you okay?’ Steve asks, pulling Eddie’s head out and ghosting his lips over Eddie’s fluttering eyelids. Kissing his flush cheeks and sweaty forehead. 
Eddie hums, a little loopy, still off in space. But Steve just keeps kissing him, smiling through it, nipping at Eddie’s dimples. ‘’M so proud of you Ed’s, the show was so good tonight.’ Steve mumbles, then sucks lightly on Eddie’s bottom lip. 
Eddie lens into in, kissing Steve back, he feels happy and settled and like his bones are all back in the right place, all the staticky anxiety gone from his brain. ‘You mean the show out there or the one in here?’ He asks, grin forming, still not opening his eyes. 
Steve pinches him on the hip and Eddie yelps, giggling. Steve kisses him once more, murmuring a fond little ‘brat’ before stepping away to get tissues, tucking himself back in his jeans. 
‘Come on.’ Steve claps, once Eddie’s clean and his pants are re-buttoned, ‘I want dinner.’ He says, walking Eddie out of the door, plastered against his back. 
Eddie goes willingly, ready for food with the band, to have a couple drinks, enjoy Steve’s hand on his thigh. Then, sleep. 
And then he’ll do it all again tomorrow. 
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m
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cryptidcorners · 11 months
Text
Josh Futturman x Reader Headcanons
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= Character: Josh Futturman
= Media: Show!Future Man
= Prompt: N/A
= Description: Just !Platonic & !Romantic mixed Headcanons!
= Request: N/A
= Tags: Fluff ! Headcanons, Shy/Awkward Josh, Romantic + Platonic, Established Relationship, Some Comfort + Reader is !GN
= Warnings: None.
= Please Read my INTRO before interacting !
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Josh has always struggled to maintain relationships, including ones with friends. Not only because he's incredibly socially awkward, but his escapism within videogames plays a major factor. So, he treasures what he has with you much more seriously than anyone you knew.
Rambles about his games all the time. His interests are something you can never get him to shut up about. Josh is usually into strategies, lore & development, his favorite being "Biowars", which you already knew had quite the reputation for being a challenging videogame.
He's pretty bubbly, especially around you. Josh is an absolute sweetheart and will get flustered at almost anything. His childish personality roots out much more when you're around, mostly because Josh feels more comfortable.
He isn't very open about his feelings, mostly because he's afraid of losing people. Josh desperately wants to be a part of something and refuses to mess it up somehow. Josh, however, is very different when you're opening up. He'll advise, comfort and try to cheer you up. (It's actually crazy how good his advice is sometimes.)
Josh is content with following you anywhere, as long as it doesn't involve his house or hear his parents. If I'm going to be honest, if he's particularly choosing somewhere to lounge, it'd be an arcade. It's a field where he specializes in and he can impress you easily. It's also somewhere he can discard his low self-esteem and indulge in his skills.
Praise is like a drug to Josh. Compliments or any sight of you liking him (or what he's doing), he feels intense dopamine. He really enjoys making people happy.
He's pretty charismatic sometimes, even when he's not trying to be. Josh is usually awkward when directly talking to somebody with a set question or goal in mind, but when he needs to go with the flow, it's much more grounded. With you in mind, Josh is much more relaxed, so he isn't as shy as he is with strangers.
Wouldn't exactly say he's very affectionate, but he wouldn't mind hugging either. Again, Josh is pretty awkward, and I doubt he rarely showcases soft intimacy around anyone (whenever it's platonic or romantic). He would love to do it, but he's very shy. Though, he isn't afraid to try. If you ask, he's perfectly fine with holding your hand or sitting close.
As I mentioned, Josh is very tentative on affection, especially receiving it, but he loves getting his hair and face touched. Dude needs love.
Digs through your trash. He doesn't have any ill intents, but Josh will take time out of his day to scavenge through waste instead of asking you a minor question. I know I mentioned he's very relaxed around you, but Josh definitely overthinks, especially with relationships. He tries his best.
Will cry real tears of joy if you ever give him something. Josh really appreciates gifts, no matter who it's from. Even if it's not game related, he's definitely holding onto it for a while. (Bonus Points If: It's an animal toy, a decoration or handmade.)
Romantically speaking, he enjoys kissing you or indulging in anything sweet. A lot of giggling & sweet talk. Josh isn't very experienced in relationships like this, so he tried to wing it. Needless to say, he probably gets advice from Google images and it's adorable to see him try his best to impress you.
Will always defend you, even if he fails miserably. Absolute trooper.
Josh will one hundred percent get emotional at any piece of film he is watching with you. Especially if it's a game cutscenes and it involves animals.
Huge softie. I don't think Josh can handle saying anything remotely mean to you or reviving it. If he does, expect a flood of apologies.
Can get way into character sometimes, whatever context this is. You know what I'm talking about.
Very clingy. No other words.
Lastly, he'd definitely call you nicknames in the cutest way possible. If he lets you call him "Joshy", you've probably earned the highest pillar of his trust.
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thetriumphantpanda · 6 months
Text
i don't really wanna fight, 'cause nobody's gonna win | javier peña
Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Eight
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Chapter Summary | A little slice of domesticity wasn't ever going to be enough to cover the stress of the story unfolding on your desk, but it was worth a shot right?
Chapter Warnings | Mentions of drugs and the drug trade, work frustrations, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie, dirty talk, we ride this man like our LIFE depends on it and some ANGST (I'm sorry, it had to happen sometime.)
Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.2k
Authors Note | OOOOOF okay we're back with these two. Real life has been kicking my ass so I'm sorry this took so long - but we're moving into the tail end of this now so prepare yourselves for even more drama! Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting for this - I hope you enjoy it. If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 
I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist
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The words on the deed to the drug den in town are all forming into one - you’re not actually sure they’re in the English language anymore. You’ve been staring at the pages for what feels like a full week, even if you’d only spread them out for reading on your desk this morning. You don’t know what to do. There is, of course, the obvious option, of walking right up to their front door and asking what the hell is going on, but the more you dig, the more you think there’s something bigger going on here.
You pour over your notes, trying to make sense of it all. It was nothing to do with Tyler Johnson, but it had something to do with his family, that was for sure. There’s no way that this whole thing would have been brushed under the rug and dealt with by the police saying ‘oh well, we don’t know’ if there wasn’t something incriminating behind it all. You tried not to think about that possibly meaning your dad was implicated somewhere along the line.
Instead of sitting around and feeling useless, considering the words on the page weren’t leading you anywhere at all, you tidy up your desk, stick your head around your managers door to tell her you were heading out for the story, and you get in your car and drive.
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They lead such dull lives, is all you can really think at this point. The sun is setting and it’s finally starting to cool a little. The thought process had been simple, if you weren’t going to catch them in the act on paper, you would have to catch them in the act for real - whatever that act might be.
You’d started with Tyler’s dad, following behind him as he went about mayoral business, driving from his office to some meeting in town and then back again. You’d waited an hour in the parking lot to see if he moved again, but gave up after a while. Deciding on following Tyler’s brother instead - but he’d been more of the same. You’d found him getting into his car at work once the day was done, driving to the grocery store and then going home. That was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Thinking about it, what would you even do if you did find them doing something? Tyler’s brother getting a package handed to him down a dark alley - there’s no way to get any proof, you don’t have a camera, and no-one’s going to believe you against them. The more you sit there, the more you think maybe you should have taken the story at face value, published it and moved on.
You suppose that these kinds of operations take time and patience - two things you were running seriously low on by now. You’re thinking of all the time’s Javi must have needed to do this - sitting around in a car waiting to catch someone doing something and wondered how he’d lasted so long. You weren’t made for this kind of work.
Sighing to yourself, you turn the key in the ignition and head home, trying not to let the frustration bubble over. You just had to wait. Bide your time. Surely somewhere along the line you’d catch someone doing something.
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“You look stressed.”
You look at Javi through your eyelashes, taking a sip from the glass of wine in front of you on the counter. Your parents were taking their two week annual vacation - some place near the coast in Florida. You remember going when you were little, playing in the sand and swimming. They’d invited you this year but now you were older, it didn’t hold quite the same amount of charm as it used to, so you’d opted to stay at home.
The upside to not getting to lounge in the sun for two weeks was definitely this though. Javier Peña, hunched over the hob, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, cooking dinner for you. It was dangerous to think about how domestic it was, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. There was no-one to lie to about why you were late home from work for now, no need to rush through whatever it was that the two of you were doing.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t need to be sorry,” He smiles at you, picking up his beer bottle to drink from, “You want to talk about it?”
You shake your head, “It’s alright, just stuff at work.”
“In all my years of working with journalists,” He speaks, stirring the pot of sauce in front of him, “I don’t think any of them were ever as stressed as you.”
“I just care about my work.”
“So did they,” He counters, picking a strand of spaghetti from the pot to test to see if it’s cooked, “Just trying to say there isn’t a story out there worth getting this worked up over.”
“I appreciate it,” You mumble, “But can we not talk about work?”
He holds his hands up in surrender, focusing his attention on dishing up the food - spaghetti with tomato sauce. It’s simple and you know it’s probably the limit of his cooking ability outside of being able to grill meat on fire, but it’s the thought that counts. You sit at the dining table and eat together, talking about nothing really, just enough to fill the silence. Even though he cooked, he insists on clearing up and packaging the leftovers for you to eat tomorrow.
You sit and watch TV on the couch and when it gets late enough and your head starts to rest on his shoulder, Javi asks if you want to go to bed.
“I do,” You answer, “But not to sleep.”
So he slowly leads you up the stairs and into your room, softly closing the door behind him. You settle yourself under your sheets, pushing them back on the other side for him as he takes off everything he’s wearing apart from his underwear and gets into bed with you. He shuffles you around so your back in pressed to his front, his big hands wandering from your hips up to your chest, where he gently cups one of your tits in his hands over the shirt you’re wearing.
You can feel his mouth trailing kissing up your shoulder until he reaches the delicate skin behind your ear, the tickle of his facial hair there making goosebumps rise on your skin, regardless of how warm it is under your sheets.
“What do you want?” He whispers softly, snaking his free arm under your neck so the side of your face is pillowed against it.
You don’t answer, you just take hold of his wrist, dragging his hand from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. You let his hand go then, feeling his big palm cup you through the material, “Like this?” He asks, teeth nipping at your ear lobe.
“No,” You shake your head, “Under.”
That big hand drags up just a little, fingers finding the waistband again, dipping below this time. He tuts into your ear when he finds you bare, having not bothered with underwear when you’d changed out of your work clothes.
His hand is warm against your skin as it envelops you again, fingers dipping ever so slightly between the folds of your pussy to find you already wet, it doesn’t take much at all when he’s around.
Fingers dragging through the slick, up to circle your clit, he speaks again, “Like this?” He asks, feather-light touches of his fingers making you gasp.
“Y-yeah,” You choke out, “Just like that.”
So that’s what he does - let’s you rest your head against his arm, lazily rolling his finger across that bundle of nerves like he has all the time in the world for making you feel good. It’s slow, the only punctuation to his fingers are the moans he lets out into your ear whenever he pushes his hips against the plush of your ass, his bulge prominent against the clothes that are separating you.
“I want you to come for me,” He whispers gently a little while later, teeth biting gently into the skin of your shoulder, “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”
You nod your head, unable to speak through the short, sharp gasps that the friction between your legs is drawing out from you. He speeds up a little, lets his finger add more pressure there. He lets you roll your hips, chasing at the high that is just there, coiling in your tummy. Your body starts to shake, thighs clamping down on his hands as he brings you over the edge.
“Fuck yeah,” He rasps into your ear, “So fucking pretty when you come for me, mi querida.”
Through the haze of pleasure, you can feel him rolling you over, pressing your back into the sheets. He’s settling between your thighs, pulling your shorts off altogether, but you don’t want it like this, so you press a palm to his warm chest to stop him.
“I want…” You trail off, “I think I want to be on top.”
You watch his eyebrows raise a little but he doesn’t protest, because of course he doesn’t, he simply lies himself back down on his side of the bed and waits for you. You let yourself straddle his thighs, marvelling just a little at the bulge of his underwear, before you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband to drag them just far enough down his thighs to let his cock spring free, resting on his lower stomach.
Shuffling up his thighs a little, you lower yourself, letting your soaked folds drag across his length whilst your mouth moves up to suckle at the skin of his neck. You can feel his hands on the globes of your ass, helping to drag you up and down his cock.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks as you moan when the head of his cock brushes against your still-sensitive clit.
You don’t have any words, so you press yourself up, palms against his chest as you lift your hips just enough for him to reach between you, base of his cock fisted in his hand, to nudge at the weeping hole of your cunt. He holds it there for you as you slowly start to sink down onto him, moaning with your head thrown back at the stretch of taking him inside. When you reach the bottom, feeling him sucked right into the depths of you, you stay still, rolling your hips a little, feeling him so deep inside you.
Javi brings his hands to your hips, looking up at you as he guides your movements, slow forwards movements matched with even slower movements backwards, until the two of you are panting together.
You push yourself back, letting your arms fall behind you onto his knees, which have come up to rest against your backside, slowly starting to lift off him until he’s almost all the way out of the tight heat of your cunt, then you slide back down onto him, finding a rhythm of bouncing up and down on his cock.
Javi moves one of his hands from your hips, letting the flat palm run up your stomach, through the valley of your tits to lightly grip at the base of your neck. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holds his hand there, but you can feel the effect it has on you, pussy clenching around his length as you continue to bounce up and down on him.
“Look so fucking pretty like this,” He manages to choke out between moans, “Like you were made to be right here bouncing on my cock.”
“I-I think I’m g-gonna come again.” You hiss, feeling that familiar tightening in your tummy.
“Yeah?” He goads, but not unkindly, “You gonna come around my cock for me?”
To help you get there, Javi starts to thrust up into you, hand still at the base of your neck, hitting into your perfectly on your downward motion to fill you right to your depths, making your orgasm hit you head on. You feel yourself tighten around him, body collapsing forward to rest against his chest as he fucks you through the aftershocks of your climax, gripping onto your ass to keep you spread so he can find his own high, thrusting a handful of times before he’s stilling inside you, spilling himself inside with moans right into your ear.
He slips out of you as he softens, shifting you so you’re led down, both catching your breath.
“Sorry, I should have asked about that.” He mumbles, and it takes you a minute to realise he’s talking about coming inside you.
“It’s okay,” You say, turning your head to smile at him, “Although it does mean I have to go to the bathroom now.”
You drag yourself up onto all fours onto your bed, dragging yourself to the door to cover yourself in your robe before you leave Javi in your room to head to the bathroom.
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He doesn’t know why he does it. In hindsight, it was out of order, but when you close the door behind you, he can’t help himself. He stands up, pulls his underwear back up and puts the rest of his clothes back on. Then he sits down on your edge of the bed and gingerly opens the top drawer of your bedside table.
There’s nothing much of note in there, a few lip balms and an old notebook, but that’s it. He opens the bottom one next, which is much more full, mainly with notebooks and sheets of paper. He knows he shouldn’t, but he reaches in and picks the first up, flicking it open to a random page somewhere in the middle, running his thumb across a loose sheet of paper before his eyes circle in on what the paper actually is.
It’s a newspaper article, reporting on Escobar’s death. When Javi looks underneath the paper there are notes written in your handwriting, detailing parts of the story that are interesting. He flicks to another page, another article about Escobar dying, with more of your handwritten notes. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to take hold of his throat.
He puts that notebook on the bed, reaches in and picks another up, flicking through to find more of the same - articles about the entire Escobar case, more handwritten notes - some written in red ink that only ever say his name with a question mark, like you’re asking yourself if he was responsible for the ill-reported heroics. Javi is too caught up in flicking through that he forgets about your return, letting you catch him red-handed when you come back through the door.
“What are you doing?” You ask, making him look up.
Your eyes are wide, like you’re shocked to find him with your notebooks in his lap.
“What’s all this?” He asks, instead of answering your question.
You surge forward, grabbing the notebook from his lap, slapping it shut, picking up the other one and then shoving them back in the drawer, “Did you go through my things?” He can tell from your tone that you’re worked up.
“Why do you have all of that?” Javi asks, standing up from the bed to take some steps away from you.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Well then tell me what it is.” He’s getting more annoyed as the moments go past.
“It was for my degree,” You say, shifting from foot-to-foot, “I don’t understand what the problem is?”
“The problem is, it’s all fucking lies!” He runs a hand over his face, more annoyed at himself for shouting at you than anything else, “It’s all fucking lies and you believe it.”
He watches as your face drops, he can see the glassing over of your eyes, “I-” You try to speak, “I’m sorry?” It’s more of an offering, like you don’t know what else to do.
“All of that shit?” He asks, pointing to the now closed drawer, “Fucking propaganda for this country to seem like it had control, when all it fucking did was make everything worse.”
“Javi, please,” You beg now, taking a step towards him with your hands open in surrender, “Why don’t you sit down and take a breath?”
He can feel himself shaking his head, stepping backwards until he can feel the handle of your door, twisting it to open. He thinks he’s saying sorry, telling you that he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he has to get out of there and away from you, almost running from the house and into his truck.
It’s not until he’s halfway to home that he can feel that panic take over, pulling over on the side of the road, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. He takes some deep breaths, trying to understand why his brain has gone from 0-100 so quickly, and all he can think of is that you’re just like everyone else in this damn town, thinking that he was a hero, that he’d played his part properly, correctly, in bringing that bastard down. I’d the wondering about what you’d think of him if you knew what he’d really done, the amount of blood actually on his hands, the fact he wasn’t here there when Murphy shot the bastard.
It’s that feeling of inadequacy that haunt him in bed that night, led against the pillows, other side cold and empty when all he wishes is that he’d stayed, let you curl into him so that he could get at least a few hours of rest. Even though he never stays the night, always leaving you with a press of lips to your head, the small hours of the morning where you’re sleeping against him are the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever had.
So, staring at his ceiling, red numbers from his clock staring him down as the hours pass, all he can think about it what the fuck he’s going to do, how he’s going to explain that this has nothing to do with you and what it had to do with your degree, and everything to do with the way he thinks if you knew exactly what had happened, outside of what the American press has told you, you’d probably hate him.
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naamahdarling · 2 months
Text
Two days ago and I was comfortable enough that this was the right choice that I was able to make the call to have Smooch put to sleep. I am sure now. I wish I weren't. It hurts to see him like this. The vet is out or I would move it forward. We could do the emergency vet but I literally do not think I could do it without our vet and my favorite nurse. That feels selfish but when she answered the phone yesterday the comfort was... astonishing.
I'm trying to prepare. I've been waiting for this for a long time, which is why it's bearable at all. I have entertainment, I have an art project to memorialize him ready to go for whenever I feel like it. I have plans to make a couple of keepsakes. But there's going to be a hole in my life so much bigger than his frail little body. It's the end of part of me. He has been there in my future for so long, thinking about not having him there is like vertigo, or a reverse haunting of some kind. It's a Wrongness, part of the world about to be unmade. He is genuinely part of my identity. I'm all these things that I consider core parts of me -- queer, funny, creative, curious, a little clever, loving, an artist, a survivor, my friends' friend, my blood sister's sister, my chosen sister's sibling, my father's daughter, my boyfriend's partner...and I'm Dried Pickle Man's person.
Here at home IRL and online, and everywhere I go, to almost anyone I speak to at all, I have been his human for 13 years and 27 days.
And that isn't enough apparently, because Sid, too, is slipping away. I...I don't know that we can save him, either. His digestive issues are keeping him from eating, we can't stop the flare, a feeding tube won't fix it, meds aren't helping him. He's losing weight very fast. Vet is at a loss. I usually have a pretty good idea of what to do next or what needs to happen. I have nothing for him. The specialist might know. How the hell do we keep affording it?
And Raleigh. Oh god. Raleigh. If we can't afford the surgery or if it fails. What do we do?
What if we lose all three?
What if my boyfriend loses BOTH his boys? Raleigh alone is going to devastate him. Not just sad, like ordinary grief, I mean I have never ever in my life seen an animal love a human this much.
He's already struggling with his depression and ADHD. He will suffer and there is nothing I can do to stop this all from happening. I can't dig into a hidden well of trying harder, I can't outsmart it. I can't comfort him by saying that it is hard but possible to influence this. I hate seeing him in pain.
And I'm scared for me. I am afraid it will just ruin him and I will lose him too, until and unless he can recover. And I already spend so much time alone. Even my art is...gone. Too painful. Writing isn't really possible, either. My body barely feels like mine these days. I have so fucking little to hang on to. My cats are one of the last things I have of myself. One of the only good things I have in my day to day life.
It's all an absolutely terrifying cascade. Unlike a lot of situations where I'm scared of the future, this isn't me afraid of unlikely scenarios that are several crises away. This is very real. And I'm usually not scared for my boyfriend like this.
It won't kill us. You can come back from something like this, probably, I know people survive much worse and I'm bombarded with reminders of that a dozen times a day. But it can take such a long time to come back, and...sometimes you just...Come Back Wrong.
I'm not often genuinely completely helpless. I am helpless now.
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tomurawr44 · 3 months
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Hiii i just discover your account it's so cool ! What about shigaraki with a darling that litteraly worship him ? 🧐
Have a nice day/night✨🛐
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TOMURA/READER WHO WORSHIPS HIM HC!
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A/N: gulps nervously in my tomura collection worth $1k+.. what..worship this guy? hah, never heard of it
(cough sidenote: utahime/urame whatever her name is and sukuna or xielian and huacheng...)
WARNINGS: nsfw under the cut! ooc tomura?, subby-ish tomura
oh my god this boy is sweating, confused, scared, angry.
he's sweating because he's shocked and nervous! how would he even react to someone holding him in their arms and whispering praises into his ear?
he's confused, where did this come from? why does he deserve this? are you serious or are you being sarcastic?
he's scared because there's an odd feeling in his chest that hurts yet feels so good, it outweighs the feeling of hatred that burns so deep within him.
he's angry because he thinks your a spy or is playing a cruel joke on him, that one day this will all just stop or your just using him to your own gain.
you have to try and try for weeks on end to show that your not going anywhere and that you genuinely worship him for who he is.
once he settles in and realizes your treating him like some sort of god, or how people idolize and admire stain/all might with genuine love in your heart he short circuits for awhile.
he lays in your arms quietly as he feels you kiss around his body and tell him that he did such a good job, how handsome he is, how much you love him, how much you care and how much all you wanna do to him is..take care of him.
he'll try and push you off and say something along the lines of 'you're being annoying/stupid, cut it out' or he'll say something cocky, 'you really see me as a god or something, huh? that sounds about right for a king like me.'
once it genuinely sinks into all of him that your being real and not playing with him, it all goes to his head and his dick he becomes more cocky but whenever a plan fails he falls so much harder than he would've if you weren't around.
he loves your kisses and will sulk if you don't give him atleast 5 per 10 minutes like you usually do.
cup his face and shower him with kisses, praise, tell him how handsome he is as your cuteness aggression kicks in and you squeeze his cheeks like they're your life line.
head? blank. mind? off.
even though he becomes more cocky/egotistical, he still short circuits and shuts down for a moment because..what?
he doesn't know what he did to deserve you (besides being a gross ugly gamer boy who should go eat a cup noodle) but he definitely thinks it's because all his hardwork and dedication to master got you by his side.
please be patient with him, if he ever sees you upset with him he might actually go insane.
NSFW under the cut!
he loves getting a handjob from you while he suckles on your chest and you whisper sweet things,
he cums so fast when you hug him from behind, one hand stroking his cock and the other playing with his nipples and stroking his chest while you whisper praise into his ear and leave hickeys on his scarred neck or shoulders.
when you praise him, sometimes it just immediately gets him erect, even if you didn't say anything inherently sexual.
he will watch with eyes blown wide or barely open (depends on how long you've been going) as you suck his cock and treat him with utmost care.
yes he is a pillow prince.
he loves it when you treat him like a valuable jewel that could shatter at the slightest touch, your gentle squeezes, your slow and tender kisses, your praise, it all swirls in his head and makes him cum, even if it's just foreplay.
he loves the aftercare, when he's laying down on his stomach and a pillow on his chest as you carefully use wipes to clean his cock, makes him hard all over again.
the aftercare where you shower with him? now he's not sure, he'll say he can bathe himself yet the soft moans he lets out whenever you lather soap on his body or dig your fingers into his hair says he would rather have you bathe him.
cuddles, cuddles please. he needs that.
atleast an hour or 30 minutes of you cuddling him, petting him and telling him how good he did for you, he will sulk if he doesn't get this.
when he's the one mostly in control he's so rough and mean, well..as rough as a lanky twink can get.
he loves watching you cry for him or having you tell him how good you feel, goes straight to his cock.
tell him to go harder, faster, deeper or tell him you're about to cum quick, he loves it, he loves it all.
when your giving him oral, he will just straight up hump/facefuck you, he loves the adoring look in your eyes, it makes him so hard.
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—Ake 2024
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