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cvnt4him · 17 hours ago

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Inexperienced izu thanks to candie

just izu who remembers over hearing not only on social media but from some of the guys that eating oysters help with the male cumshot, supposedly making it longer and more enjoyable for women! he obviously had never had a girlfriend before and wanted his partner to be happy with him. Izuku was slightly insecure of what he had, especially because he was on the short side too! Maybe he was overthinking it but he couldn't take any chances!!

The next day you'd see a complete shift in his diet, izuku always had some kind of protein based diet with tons of rice and some veggies to even it out of course but the way it seemed to strictly consist of more water cranberries celery and a ton of oysters concerned you. Izuku loves sea food by all means but too many of the same things get a little annoying, you walked over to izuku and seen him absolutely destroying the oysters and then everything else on his plate. Izu was an eater by all means but this was just crazy to you

“ izu?”

Izuku squeaked and jumped up at the sudden call of his name, nearly choking on his food as he slowly turned to face you swallowing the fuck ton of food he had in his mouth with a hard gulp.

“ oh.. uhm, hi baby! I- I mean uh.. honey...?”

Your heart couldn't help but to flutter at his nervousness, you and izuku had only been dating for about 4 months not that long but long enough to where you occasionally kiss and hold hands and just want to be around each other more. Izuku was your first boyfriend just as you were his first as well, you were easily as excited as he was if not more. Or so you thought...

You mean down and kiss his forehead ruffling his hair as you take a seat beside him making him blush, red crawling up his neck and completely covering his freckled face. He gave you a nervous smile as he scratched the back on his neck looking away from you.

“ don't feel forced to call me any pet names if you're not comfortable with it, izu.”

He hummed fiddling with his fingers. It's not that he didn't want to call you them, it's more than he wasn't sure which one. He feared that maybe if he called you the wrong one you'd cringe and die! You'd break up with him immediately and tell everyone he was lame! Of course you would, why would you even want to be with someone like him anyways..

“ what's with the sudden diet change zuzu?”

A ton of thoughts started taking over izukus mins, making him feel kind of bad about himself reminding him why he was even doing this to begin with. The question you asked him had him holding back to reality with wide eyes and an even more flushed expression, he was stuttering and his vocal range was rising hands moving all about as he came up with some sort of excuse.

“...uh..huh, so I have to go but uhm... maybe text me?”

You excused yourself figuring if he wanted to tell you he would. Not thinking much of it as you left, however izuku was beating himself up the entire time. You were probably so embarrassed to be his girlfriend, he was embarrassed. He couldn't even tell his girlfriend that he wanted to pleasure her but was too insecure about what he has and what it wouldn't be able to do so he asked around and got advice and now he's trying to change the way he eats to ensure he gives you a good time...whenever you're ready for that step, of course.

Izuku didn't tell you what was up so you asked around, despite wanting to leave it up to him to tell you, you were nervous. This is your first time having a boyfriend and normally izuku is quite open with you so of course the sudden change startled you. You end up asking the girls for advice first hoping they can give you just a little foresight in the situation.

“ so what's the problem?”

Mina asks you, changing out of her training uniform.

“ he just.. it's nothing too big I suppose, maybe I shouldn't even be all that worried.”

You think about it more, maybe it's not that big of a deal anyways..

“ don't beat yourself up too much you're allowed to be worried about him!”

Ochako chimes in helping you shut out any negative thoughts, she was good at that. You smile at her and sigh.

“ he's changed his diet like...a lot, drastically even. I'm concerned he's not getting all that he needs, I guess? I mean he's normally really good with himself and the way he eats y'know so there must be a reasoning behind the sudden change, especially because all it consists of is a couple of cranberries that I can remember and a couple sticks of celery and a shit ton of oysters. And water. Like two bottles”

The girls hummed at your words, thinking together at what it could possibly be. That wasn't much of a diet anyways given most of them dieted or watched their food to help maintain their image or to help them in any way they were sure this was quite strange.

“ well, the only time I eat cranberries or drink cranberry juice is to help my pH levels, maybe that's the case for him too. I hear they also make you taste better so y'know win win”

You hum at minas words, but would it provide the same results in him that it would someone with traditionally female anatomy? It stumped you.

“ same thing for water and oysters by the way! water helps clean out your system and balance everything inside of you, regardless of gender y'know given we're made up of water and all-”

Yaoyorozu then went on a ramble sesh providing information of the human body and how certain foods help. As helpful as this was for you it didn't really help in the case of izuku, why would he need to detox in such a big way?

Mina eventually cut yaomomo off explaining a Google search she'd found.

“ hey look what I found; supposedly it's common to think oysters can help you shoot ropes out of your dong.”

The double take you did when mins gave the news had her laughing, you just sat there wide eyed as the girls broke into conversation about it, blushing laughing and giggling about different things. Was izuku trying to... Had he thought about moving forward with you in such a big way? You bit your lip at the thought, maybe that was it. It made more sense to you than anything else. You had to talk to him and fast.

You ran to izukus room as fast as you could once the day was over and you were finished studying, your main priority was finding out the truth. You couldn't help but think about it on the jog there from the library to the dorm house. You didn't know how to feel about it, it's normal to want to move forward with your partner especially if you've been together for a while and haven't done anything, that was your case.

But you hadn't been together that long so..it's not as if he was sullying your relationship with his wants and needs you knew this day would come but...were you ready for this? The think about it wasn't too long given how you'd touched yourself a couple days earlier thinking about him.

Clearly the both of you were ready for this so why the wait? Suddenly you felt better about this and almost hoped that what you found out was the reasoning behind his sudden change. Once you made it to izukus room you caught your breath and were quick to knock on his door practically beating on it. There wasn't a quick answer, it took him a moment to stutter out a breathy response.

“ huh.. i- com..coming!!”

You heard shuffling and rearranging in his bedroom before the steps came closer, he swung the door open and his facial expression was slightly annoyed and he was sweaty chest lightly heaving up and down as his beautiful green eyes were lidded a light shade of red dusting over his cheeks. His shirt was kind of wrinkled and....on backwards?

“ oh! Y/n! what- what uhm are you doing here!!”

His expression changed immediately upon seeing you, the annoyed one being replaced with nervousness. You loved how nervy he got when he seen you, and how shaky he'd get when you would stand too close to him or kiss him or hug him. He was such a cutie

“ can I uh come inside?”

“ uh- yes! yes please- I- of course! come in!”

,“ thanks baby”

You walked past him and sat your bag down on the floor in front of his bed, fixing your skirt over your thighs as you waited for him to sit next to you. After studying you'd ran straight to his dorm and didn't get the time to change, unlike izuku who was in his adorable little set up. You couldn't help but to giggle at his backwards bed shirt and shorts as he sat next to you he got quite a blushed look at the sound of you giggling.

You lift a hand and cup his cheek kissing his nose with a smile causing him to literally melt in your hand, his face leaning into the warmth of your palm as his lids droop over his eyes, you could almost see hearts in them. He sighed through his nose and moved forward to kiss yours leaning his forehead against yours with a giggle that you gave back.

“ y'know your shirts on backwards my love.”

You whisper to him with your eyes closed and a gentle tone, you hear a little gasp come from him but he didn't move away just a mumble leaving him. You couldn't help but to giggle lowly at your boyfriend's cuteness.

“ I have something to ask you. I would appreciate if you told me the truth.”

That scared izuku to be completely honest. Why would you say something like this all of the sudden, you two were having such a cute moment and you randomly said that during it. He was frightened. Maybe you finally decided to get rid of him, he figured it was only a matter of time. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but what else could it be. You were absolutely perfect in his eyes, it was only a matter of time before you found someone equally as perfect. Maybe shoto, he'd really handsome and looks like he could be a model. Or maybe katsuki, he'd furiously attractive as well, or maybe-

“ did you change your diet because you heard it'll help you with sex..?”

You whispered lowly to him kind of embarrassed that you were even asking. Izuku squeaked out a pitchy "huh?!" at your question. That was NOT what he thought you were going to say let alone ask. But yes, that was indeed why he changed the way he ate. He wanted to be better for you in case you decided that you were ready. But he couldn't tell you that, oh no, he couldn't even move. He had moved away from you and simply looked at you with wide eyes and a crazy blush taking over his features. He was speechless.

“ I...just overheard that some of the things you were eating and the way you were drinking tons of water supposedly helps with....uhm rather intimate acts..?”

He was shaking literally speechless and shaking. You could hear the shakyness in his stuttering which is surprising. He didn't know what to do let alone say to you, he was so embarrassed that you'd found out. You probably think he's such a loser now..

“ ...if..if you wanted to do something like that. I wouldn't be opposed.”

If his already widened eyes could get any more wide they would. You literally seen the way they wanted to pop out of his head, it honestly made you laugh.

“ izuku calm down hun! you're so red and you look like your eyes are gonna pop out of your head!”

“ i- I just-...”

He covered his face with his hands whinging beneath them and falling into your arms, you laugh out awing at him rubbing his back as he whined into the crook of your neck, he was so embarrassed that not only had you caught on but you wanted to stay with him and you wanted to do more with him. He really felt like he could die.

“ why is your shirt on backwards, honey”

You coo down to him with laughter laced in your voice, he whines once more peeking up to look at you in your eyes before averting eye contact. His brows furrowed in embarrassment you could see the blush taking over his features, he trusted you a lot and he wanted you to know that. Maybe if he told you the truth then....

“ ....I was...”

He mumbled the rest to the point it was unheard by you. You hum brushing your finger over his forehead removing some hair from in front of his eyes making him get even more flustered as if that were even possible.

“ ...you know...”

Literally nothing came to your mind when he said that, definitely not what he said next.

“ I was.. masturbating....”

He said it lowly expecting not to be heard once again however you heard him all too well. It was your turn for your eyes to widen. You were shocked to say the least, it's not that you didn't expect izuku to...indulge. you just didn't think you would catch him in the act.

Given your lack of response he felt a rush of shame, he was so embarrassed that he told you. You must've thought he was a disgusting slob who lusts after himself like some....creep! To his surprise you continued taking your fingers through his hair and even placed a kiss on top of his head making him lift up to look at you with slightly glassy eyes.

“ is that so, my love.”

You spoke softly in attempts to calm him down, you figured he felt somewhat ashamed of himself given his lack of response. He was prone to getting in his feelings when things went south. However in izukus eyes the way you spoke to him was so sultry and seductive, the way you cooed to him and looked down at him with love in your eyes despite what he does.

“ ...b- but it was only to see if anything had changed! y'know because..I changed the way I ate to...to..”

“ so I was right!”

Izuku hums in embarrassment laying his cheek on your chest. You pull his head up to kiss his lips, he absolutely melts in your arms rough lips meeting with your soft ones in a sweet and gentle dismay. You were so soft with him and so patient too, he couldn't help but to want more given you'd interrupted his....activities that he normally indulges in after class is out of when he has time.

He climbed on top of you and laid you down on his pillows letting one of his knee find it's way in between your legs and his hands on your sides just sitting there not daring to move any further without your authorization.

The kiss grew sloppier more full of need from both ends, you heard a groan leave him as he felt you slightly grind down on to his knee, he broke away from your lips momentarily to catch a breath, it fanning over your face before he experimentally shoved his tongue in your mouth it was only to test the waters, he never expected you to moan into the kiss making his already hardened cock twitch against your thigh his breath hitched at the unexpected movement from his member the kiss broke and he didn't want to look at you.

He was red from embarrassment and being heavily turned on, he wanted you but didn't want to push your boundaries. He bit his bottom lip and exhaled shakily. To his surprise you flipped him over and was now on top of him rubbing his chest with your hands, he looked up at you with his wide green eyes izuku was ready for whatever you wanted as long as you wanted it with him.

You ground your hips into his slowly to see his reaction and to your surprise his head slowly rolled back along with his eyes earning a deep gasp, his hands immediately rushing to your hood and gently squeezing. He tried to raise his hips into your head as you continued grinding over for you to stop with a laugh. he sighed quickly, extremely upset at the stop of movement.

“ ..baby....please?”

So whiney. He was such a sweet thing, you figured he deserved it. why not make your first time truly memorable?

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amiaclone · 2 days ago

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begging on my knees pls write se-mi (player 380) x reader where se-mi is flirting with reader but she’s completely oblivious!!!

love ur work!

Thank you! And yes i will I’ve gotten so much se mi 🥲 can’t blame you though she’s gorgeoussss

Se-Mi x gn! Reader

“Wow the money is as worth to me as being by your side”

“Aw really? Thanks!”

Se-Mi mentally sighed this was a very obvious pick up line too!

It’s not like you were stupid when Nam-Gyu tried to insult you in a complimenting way you weren’t afraid to talk back and call out the insult you were just……oblivious about flirting that’s all

Se-Mi immediately took a liking to you the second she started talking to you and decided to protect you in the games so….she could have some fun with you when we’re here and maybe even communicate outside the games

Luck was not on her side as you barely reciprocated her flirty gestures

Maybe you just aren’t into her? Could be it hopefully not maybe she should just confess?

I mean she’s tried everything comparing you and your beautiful looks to random objects hand holding just simply being nice and those lovey-dovey qoutes rarely……Does she have to go Thanos level for you to realise your flirting with her?

She’d never do that as that would make her lose all respect for herself

Anyways here she is hanging out with you away from her annoying team just talking to you

“Soo-“

“Huh?” *She suddenly turned her head to you she was daydreaming….about you*

“Nothing you seemed tense that’s all. You’ve been spacing out a lot today does this mean we’re getting closer?” *You smiled sweetly Se-Mi honestly couldn’t tell if you were flirting or not*

“I suppose so” *She smiles* “Just thinking about important stuff that’s all”

You quirked an eyebrow smiling “A strategy for the games? It better be that cause honestly we barely survived this game someone smart and pretty like you definitely knows what to do…”

Se-Mi smiled a bit maybe she wasn’t being dense but to her you definitely had feelings for her which is a relief but she has to be sure “Yeah sorry not that when i do i promise I’ll tell you first you’re probably my favourite person here”

You smiled “Aw don’t be cheesy….you’re definitely my favourite person too”

It cues to you all with your team you formed! All alliance Se-Mi can barely tolerate but atleast you and Min-Su were on it

You left to go to the bathroom so then Thanos turned to Se-Mi “So when are you gonna tell them?”

Se-Mi quirked an eyebrow frowning “Tell them what?” Thanos leaned back “Senorita it’s so obvious you’re into her….you think we’re all as dense as her or something?”

“Don’t call them that”

“Ooh! She so does like her!” *His annoying friend Nam-Gyu giggled like a preschooler*

Se-Mi sighed “And what if i do? It’s not like it’s any of your business”

Thanos smirked a bit “Well i for one don’t care about whatever you do with your relationships but the flirty mushy stuff is killing my vibe…..besides what if you or her died?”

She rolled her eyes “Hypocrite” she thought to herself

He was right about one thing though if you did die she’d be pretty upset in general but especially not confessing…..what if you don’t feel the same way? Honestly she doesn’t even care she’ll confess….after the next game she promised that

Cues to mingle it was the second round Se-Mi has been holding your hand the whole time you swear it’s stuck to her

“Uh Se-Mi-“

“Quick!”

The number was five Thanos kicked out Gyeong-Su and she dragged you and Min-Su barely

You breathed heavily while barely making it into the room you stared at Se-Mi she sighed “Well atleast we were stuck together the whole time…..like mates or something”

You sighed smiling “Yeah mates…..good friends”

Se-Mis grinded her teeth

You ended up losing Se-Mi during one of the later rounds as Thanos kicked her out and eventually you and you’ve been barely trying to survive

Eventually it was one of the last rounds before you could even process who grabbed you and dragged you into the room it was locked

You signed in relief that Se-Mi was alive “Se-Mi..”

She smiled back in relief that you were still alive thankfully it was the last round “Atleast we’re alone in this together…..”

It was true we’d be in room for about 30 seconds till the hoodies took the bodies

You thooght for a second “Yeah….I’m glad it’s you though and not some creep….”

Se-Mi didn’t even care that you didn’t get gesture since atleast you both were alive

The two of you walked out in time cue Se-Mi avoided Thanos and dragged you away incase they tried to bother you

You and Se-Mi were then eating your food here she was pondering in thought again

You frowned she’s been thinking a lot lately is something bothering her? Is it someone at home? You were gonna finally ask that

“Hey Se-Mi…..are you okay?”

She snapped her head towards you “I’ve just been thinking about……something really important”

You smiled sweetly “Well you don’t have to tell me I’m just worried that’s all”

Se-Mis heart warmed over it “Well…..It’s you”

You laughed a bit “Me? Seriously do you have a crush on me or something”

Se-Mi could barely process what you just said is she supposed to laugh say she loves you in tears? It came off as “Well….Yeah i do like you”

“Oh why didn’t you make it obvious?” You quirked an eyebrow “I like you too”

#x reader #character #fanfiction #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 x reader #y/n #se-mi #se-mi x reader #squid game se-mi x reader #squid game se-mi #squid game season 2 se-mi #squid game season 2 se-mi x reader

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fatliberation · 6 hours ago

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Sorry for leaving this in your inbox, but I need to vent and ask for advice in a place where people won't mock me. What do you do when sex is super difficult because of your fat? I've recently gotten into my first relationship and. I thought I had a handle on my internalized fatphobia and self hate but this has made it worse than ever. We can't have satisfying penetrative sex (we've tried all the tips and workarounds. Nothing works. I'm larger than most of the FA community.), and recieving oral sex is also difficult for me. I also get tired and sweaty extremely quickly if I have to like hold up myself on mostly my arms or something, so he has to do most of the work. So sex is just. Mostly the one that works on repeat, and we don't have it very often because it isn't that fun for either of us, and it also makes me cry afterwards sometimes because of how disappointing it is & me beating myself up over it.

I'm genuinely worried my boyfriend is going to leave me for this. He's clearly very frustrated with the situation, even though he tries to be nice about it most of the time. Earlier today I tried to like be flirty and hint at stuff and he just. got a bit sad. and then said that clearly neither of us enjoy the sex we're having and that he has a lot of trouble staying hard.and that he doesn't see the point when we're both forcing it for no reason. I think he's going to break up with me soon. His ex is way lighter than me, so he's probably comparing the normal sex he had with her with whatever the fuck this abnormal shitshow is :/

All the work I've done on myself to be happy with being fat (including working up the courage to date, what a mistake that was lmao) is all gone. This has ruined my self-esteem so much. I feel like one of those fatphobic jokes but a person.

first and foremost, please try your best to remember this: your body is not the problem. one more time. your body is not the problem. I'm so very sorry you're concerned that your boyfriend would leave you over this. it sounds like he has a lot of preconceived ideas about how sex is supposed to go. I promise you that it doesn't have to be this way. if this is something that could really end the relationship, know that this person is not compatible or open to exploring your needs, rather than your needs being "too difficult." I promise it's him, not you. I know folks who are 600+ pounds who have excellent sex lives and partners who satisfy them and enjoy satisfying them. when someone starts treating your pleasure like a chore, that's just shitty. I know how much it hurts. it also does damage to your own openness to pleasure. when you're caught up in feeling like sex/your body is something that needs to be "fixed," nothing is going to feel sexy, because all that pressure puts stress on and takes you out of the mental state where you're able to experience pleasure. does that make sense? so many couples get stuck in this cycle.

there are so many ways to engage in pleasure without penetration or orgasm. there's a lot that goes into foreplay, setting a mood, making your partner feel appreciated and attractive. words and touch play a huge part in this. something as simple as exploring each other's bodies, not with the intention of reaching climax, but simply to be vulnerable and engage each others' senses. have your partner give you a massage. play with your hair. tickle your back with a feather. shower together. kiss you. compliment you. if either of you are into any kinks or dirty talk, that could be a great way to engage each other sexually without the pressure of "achieving" a goal. the goal here is just to feel good, close, and connected. societal messaging about sex has placed so much importance on orgasm instead of pleasure - when taking the time and space to relax and receive attention, is key.

feel free to check out my other posts on fat sex ed, there's lots of assistive toys that can make pleasure more accessible, but I think that should be a tool for later, since the biggest issue here is the pressure to perform. know that pleasurable sex can exist for you! but for now, I would recommend taking a break from sex altogether since it is not pleasurable for you right now. because pleasure is the whole point. forcing it is only going to feel worse. you do not owe it to your boyfriend, especially if it doesn't feel good and is taking an emotional toll. I hope you both are able to take a step back, reassess and communicate, and are able to reconnect and create a safe space to explore.

I understand why you're beating yourself up over this, I've been there too. but also know that it's just another societal standard that's been internalized (and it doesn't sound like your boyfriend is helping). like you said, you've done a lot to unlearn fatphobia. there's a lot of internalized beliefs we absorb from society surrounding sex, just like body image. I promise that there is nothing wrong with you. If your boyfriend takes his frustration out on you instead of making you feel safe to express your needs, then he's not a supportive partner. you deserve someone who takes delight in your pleasure and your body. believe me, we're out there.

#fat pleasure is fat liberation #fat sex ed #fat sexuality #fat liberation #inbox

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 days ago

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@zepskies

Hello my beautiful friend! I am SO ready to dive back into this series!

Right off the bat, the sexual tension with the gambling 👌🏻. I don't know what it is, but I always love in movies or shows or books when they have a poker game/card game between two people who are obviously into each other. I don't think it's a trope, but- the sexy smiles over the cards, the bluffing, the flirting, the teasing, just OH GOODNESS 😮‍💨

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too? You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

I'm not going to lie, I would have thought this to myself if I was in her situation. At the same time I feel bad for her because she has all this bottled inside and it's probably even worse that she's in close counters with him, just second guessing everything. BUT I also love that you've given us these wonderful domestic moments between the two of them. ❤️

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says. Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

DANG IT DEAN STOP HIDING FROM YOUR FEELINGS! Man really out there chopping wood trying to forget all his problems and relieve some tension 👀, while the reader is inside trying to educate herself🤣

The way you integrated John's journal into this chapter was so good! It adds on to the lore of the story. I'd never read through the official "John's Journal" merch so it was nice to see those little details and honestly made me feel more connected to the reader, because it was the first time that I was reading the entries too!

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

Girl it's okay we can cry together- DEAN WAS IN THE CRIB WITH SAM. Nothing is okay. I am made of tears. INCONSOLABLE 😭

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—” “Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating. “The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

No, NO, No. Dean NO.

Bad Dean!

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.

AND he knows that she is supposed to be HIS. For the love of rice krispy treats! SHE HAS A BROKEN ANKLE DEAN. Don't let her leave!!!

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate? You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Sweetie he's a grumpy old onion, you gotta peel him back one gorgeous layer at a time. 🤣

This bit is also so heartbreaking, because it's literally her meeting her mate and her believing that he doesn't want her, when it's probably all he does. There's something so raw about that. The idea of finding someone who was literally made for you and believing that they want no part of you. Oh goodness my fragile heart😭

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

I'm not going to lie, I wasn't expecting it to be a Bear. I literally thought this was going to turn into Dean saving her from a Wendigo- because of the allusions to her dad being killed by one, but this was such a (un)pleasant surprise LOL

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester: For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach. Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

I LOVE this insight into his head, just a little piece but enough for the readers to see that Dean does in fact care and that he does feel something for her! Not to mention again... HE PICKS HER UP. I've read Dean in so many fics doing that but each time it just makes me *swoon*.

And oh my word, him finally sitting down with her on the couch and allowing himself to let down some of his walls and let the reader in is just so good!! Not to mention now the reader is going to tell him the truth over how she lost her dad! I'm very excited to read the next chapter, but this one was amazing Alex! 🤗

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart.

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.”

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear?

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you.

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest.

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore.

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze.

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says.

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 3 days ago

Note

Could you do an imagine about sharing a bed with the AR team and/or DEFY members?

(GFL) AR/404/DEFY Sharing a bed with their S/O

BOO, SQUAD 404 JUMPSCARE!

M4A1 is actually rather comfortable sharing a bed, plus not like she had any room to complain. Beforehand she had to make do with the dorm's beds, which were alright, at best.

Granted she's a little jumpy since she's afraid she might accidentally hurt S/O with her weight, but her fears are pushed aside when S/O moves intentionally closer to her.

Hugging them tightly, M4A1 takes a deep breath and nuzzles even closer to them.

(M4A1) "Good night, S/O..."

She feels them smile against her arm, squeezing her hand gently back.

(S/O) "Night..."

In her mind, she swears that nothing will ever hurt them, letting more of her emotions out as she holds one of the few humans she's grown to love closer to her core.

M16A1 is obnoxious when it comes to sharing, since she sprawls out and snores loudly.

How a T-Doll can even snore is beyond S/O, but they've learned to stop questioning things when they saw her get drunk somehow.

And on that note, she usually smells of Jack Daniels, not that S/O has time to realize that as M16A1 accidentally hits their face as her hand flops onto them.

(M16A1) "Mngaaah......."

(S/O) sigh

Well, at least she wasn't stealing the blanket.

Yet.

Since STAR is on the shorter side for a T-Doll, she's able to squeeze in with S/O on the bed rather easily.

Not that it helps the blush on her face any.

(ST AR-15) "Um...I'm not uncomfortable, am I?"

(S/O) "The opposite, actually."

STAR lets out a small squeak when S/O wraps both their arms around her and pulls her into their chest.

In which she takes a deep breath and melts into their hold.

She could get used to this feeling...

Ah yes, SOPMOD, her girlfriend/boyfriend, and her smaller clone of herself in between.

Honestly, it feels being a family considering SOPMOD Jr is snoring happily away.

With her mother not being that far behind, to S/O's annoyance. But something about the sight was also endearing.

They were machines, but they sure as hell acted just as human as every other person S/O had met.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Mehehhe...."

(S/O) "If anyone could dream of electric sheep, it'd probably be you, SOP..."

Surprisingly, the bed is comfortable with S/O, Junior, SOPMOD, and even Junior's Dinergate all sleeping together. If a little cramped.

RO is flustered to be sure, yet she still embraces S/O without question.

(RO635) "H-Here, you can scoot in a little if you're about to fall off."

(S/O) "Is this an excuse to hug you?"

(RO635) "I...!" sigh "No, but I won't mind..."

RO doesn't take long to succumb to S/O's embrace, smiling herself as she rests their head on her chest.

RO is definitely the big spoon on the bed, but her heart will melt if S/O decides to be it one night.

Not that she has the metaphorical heart to admit that aloud.

Especially since she felt so embarrassed with what they were doing right now to begin with.

45 is a bit teasing whenever S/O gets in close to her.

(UMP45) "Hm, if you wanted me next to you, you could have just asked.~"

(S/O) "H-Hey now, how was I supposed to know this place only had one bed?!"

Joking aside, 45 is a bit rigid at first when it comes to sharing a bed.

She was not used to such intimacy, T-Doll or human.

But its a sign of great trust since she even decides to share the bed, always having to look over her shoulder given the nature of her squad.

Her arms hesitantly snake around their back, but she eventually gives in and snuggles closer, feeling a little vulnerable doing so.

Zero hesitation!

(UMP9) "FINALLY! A fluffy bed!"

She didn't get much of a chance to sleep on one since her team was always on the move, and wasting no time she drags S/O with her to the mattress.

With a deep exhale of satisfaction, she hums to herself as she plops her head directly onto S/O.

(UMP9) "Hm...! Comfy!"

She giggles a lot before finally falling asleep, with the two of them holding tightly onto each other.

HK416 will mutter German profanities the entire time, but still gets into bed with S/O regardless.

Even if she is blushing the entire time, she'll never say that she wanted to share the bed.

(HK416) "Just scoot over already."

(S/O) "Hah, okay okay."

She won't initiate the cuddles first, but when S/O eventually hugs her, HK416 will just scoff.

As long as they didn't tease her, she wouldn't direct the swears at them.

Probably.

Floor? Tree? Bed? It didn't really matter to G11.

Sleep was sleep.

But she had to admit, sleeping in a bed with S/O was the comfiest.

Surprising no one, G11 immediately passes out with S/O holding her like a teddy bear.

(S/O) "Why are you always so tired...?"

(G11) "...I dunno. But your arms feel nice. Keep them on me so I can sleep..."

(S/O) "Hah, as you wish."

12's smirk grows by the second realizing the situation.

(AK-12) "Well, I suppose we have to share."

She'll 'accidentally' bump into S/O the entire time, claiming the reason was that she couldn't see in the dark.

Which was just a boldfaced lie.

(S/O) "12, do you really have to move around so much?"

(AK-12) "I have to get comfortable to sleep, S/O."

(S/O) "And that requires your arms to go all around me?"

(AK-12) "Is it? I couldn't tell!"

She said with a faux gasp, making S/O roll their eyes.

94 is comically stiff the entire time, trying to sleep completely straight as to not impose herself on S/O.

Only for that objective to fail when S/O grabs 94, unintentionally making her squeak at the sudden embrace.

(AN-94) "S-S/O? Is this not uncomfortable for you?"

(S/O) "I think I'd be moreso without you next to me."

Her cheeks flush at their flirting, and just lays with S/O on the bed.

Though a small smile begins to grow as she wraps her arms around S/O as well, loving the feeling of being needed like this.

Even for something so small.

15 did not mind sharing, though she had to be the big spoon, considering her size.

(AK-15) "If you need me to adjust, please let me know. I will be entering rest mode now."

(S/O) "Hah, doubt I'll need to."

WIth a hum, 15 closes her eyes as she lets S/O move closer into her hold.

Obviously by their vitals they were very happy about this arrangement.

At least the one bed made things more efficient, but she hoped that it wouldn't get S/O too excited since they were still jittery.

15 made no comment and instead let it slide, as long as it didn't affect S/O's performance.

Thankfully, 16 was a bit on the smaller side of Machine Gun T-Dolls.

The entire time, she has almost a sinister smile to her face upon realizing there was only one bed.

(RPK-16) "Oh? You look a bit nervous, S/O."

(S/O) "And you look a little too happy with this arrangement..."

(RPK-16) "I thought you liked being so close to me!"

Her voice pretends to sound hurt, though her amusement is clear to tell.

The entire time, 16 is just noting S/O's reactions to her movement and the very little space in between them.

If it weren't for the fact that this was an operation, she'd have tried something solely to gauge their reactions, but perhaps that was something to try at home.

Angelia is barely fazed, if at all.

(S/O) "There's only one bed?"

(Angelia) "Yup. I had it arranged this way."

Before S/O could begin asking, she already began undressing herself, waving her prosthetic hand dismissively.

(Angelia) "Saves us money instead of having to rent a bigger room. Plus, thought you'd like it."

(S/O) "I-I mean, I do but!-"

(Angelia) "Get flustered later, we need all the sleep we can get for tomorrow."

Despite her dismissive tone, she is pretty amused by their reaction.

If only this wasn't a mission, then she could really appreciate this situation.

Maybe when they got back, she could invite them over to her dorm, but those were later thoughts.

She at the very least makes sure both her prosthetics are facing away from S/O to not make them flinch from the cold metal under the blanket.

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marlynnofmany · 1 day ago

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Cave Space

The mechanic’s shop was the loudest and dirtiest place I’d seen on this space station so far, and somehow that was comforting. All the ritzy retail stores and elaborate restaurants tried to look as fancy as possible, even the cheap ones. But this place felt honest and straightforward. It had bare concrete floors and the kind of shelf displays that didn’t bother with signs to actually explain what you were looking at. A real mechanic would know.

I had no idea, but I was just here to help haul things. Blip and Blop might have been a better choice if the things in question proved to be heavy, but they were off wrangling jumbo tubs of food and medical supplies with Eggskin, and anyways we had the big hoversled this time. It would probably be fine.

Mimi was talking fast with an employee about manifolds and vents and lots of other words, waving a couple green tentacles while he stood on the rest. The employee was the biggest Heatseeker I could remember seeing, which was still only mid-rib-height on me. He reminded me of the short gym guys from back home, able to build muscle in every direction but up.

A box thumped onto a counter near me. “You here to help lift and pull?”

I found an older human woman grinning at me, wearing a tank top covered in grease and long white hair held back in a ponytail. Also the kind of arm muscle that said she yanked engines out of spaceships for fun.

“Something like that,” I said with a smile. “Gotta make sure nothing falls off the sled.”

She waved a hand. “Ah, we’ll strap it down for you. There’s enough ramps around here to cause problems if we don’t.”

“I bet,” I said, thinking back to the last time I’d chased something important down a hill. “Don’t want to risk any explosions or chemical spills.”

“Or slamming a gear shaft into the side of a building,” she agreed. “There was a bit of a mess the last time someone was sure they didn’t need their stuff tied down.”

I winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, it’s standard procedure now,” she said, opening the box to pull out multiple smaller boxes, all labeled with arcane terminology and numbers. They rattled as she stocked them on the shelf under the counter. “If they’d asked me, it would have been standard from the start, but what do I know? I’ve only been doing this kind of work for decades, on more planets than I care to count.”

“Sounds exciting,” I said as she finished stocking. “I haven’t been out here all that long by comparison, but there’s always something new to see.” A glance around the shop took in rows of alien technology, a Heatseeker with scales painted silver, and one of those centipede-like people whose species name I didn’t remember. I was pretty sure they were looking at a jetpack display.

“Oh sure, plenty of weirdos out here,” the woman said easily, ripping tape off the box and flattening it. “Though it’s easy to tip over from marveling at the wonders to feeling the kind of intense homesickness that you get when you’re light years away from home.”

“I suppose so.” I’d been pretty lucky on that front, since my alien coworkers were friendly sorts who made me feel welcome. But there were times when the sheer amount of empty space between me and Earth was a little too much to think about.

“You’ve got to find ways to remind yourself of where you come from, and take pride in it,” the older woman said with a pointed finger, like a grandparent giving career advice. “Recreate bits of home while you’re far from it.”

I thought back to the potted plants and sun lamp in my quarters, kept high enough that the cat couldn’t chew on them. “I like to think I do that,” I said. “Do you have a preferred method? Classic Earth songs, googly eyes stuck in funny places?”

She barked a laugh. “Ha! Nothing I’d admit to. But I’ll show you my current favorite touchstone to humanity.” She dug in a pocket.

I stepped closer, curious, as she pulled out something palm-sized. She rested her elbows on the counter and held it up, framed by splayed fingers with appropriate drama.

It was a rock, smooth and shiny like it had been polished by a river and then by a thick layer of varnish, and it was covered in minuscule handprints. All in earthtones, like a cave painting reduced to pocket size: some in silhouettes like tiny hands had pressed mud or ash against the cave wall, and others shadowed by color like the prehistoric artist had chewed charcoal and spat it carefully around their fingers.

(I’d done that in school one day, with one of the cool teachers, who taught us the basics of humanity’s oldest style of airbrushing. It was incredibly messy and trickier than I’d expected. It gave me renewed respect for the artists from eons ago whose artwork had survived into modern times.)

And this was that same thing, made small enough to carry around the galaxy, a tiny reminder of home. “That’s fantastic,” I breathed.

“Isn’t it?” she asked, rubbing at the shine. “I got it from a traveling artist awhile back. If I was in a different line of work, I’d sell clothes with this pattern on them. It’s the kind of thing that makes other Earthlings smile.” She stood up and put it back in her pocket with a wink. “Not like googly eyes, but still good.”

“Yes, still good!” I agreed, smiling. I would have liked to talk more about it, maybe find out where that traveling artist had gone, but Mimi was wrapping up his conversation. A door opened to admit a trio of Heatseekers carrying a huge cylinder that was probably destined for somewhere in the guts of our ship.

“I’ll get the tie-down straps,” said the woman, rummaging under a different section of counter.

“Thanks,” I said, though I don’t think she heard me. The air was full of talk and the sound of clawed feet on concrete. I hurried to take up a position by the controls of the hoversled, making sure it stayed locked in place.

The team worked quickly, and in no time they had it strapped down well enough that it wouldn’t budge even if the gravity cut out completely. (Which had better not happen; I’d had more than enough of that kind of nonsense at the last station.)

Mimi processed the payment, tapping a screen with one tentacle tip and thanking the employees for having this whatsit in stock. I got the impression that it wasn’t the one he’d actually come to get, but it was better in some way or other.

“Thanks again!” I said as we tugged the sled toward the door. I waved at the other human and she waved back, two hands signaling kinship briefly across the room. Then she took her flattened box into the back and I stepped out into the artificial sunlight, looking for signs leading back to the spaceport.

The gravity behaved, and the ramps were no trouble. Blip and Blop were there to help unload the thing. I asked Mimi if he wanted three people to maneuver it into wherever it went, or if I should go put the hoversled away.

He was busy climbing inside of the cylinder with a flashlight, for whatever reason. “Nah, not enough space for everybody,” his gravelly voice echoed. “Let me just — really? Another one?” A faint squeak sounded like he was rubbing a tentacle against the side.

“What is it?” I asked, bending to look inside. Blip and Blop crowded behind me, a jumble of curious muscles and silks.

Mimi grumbled, “This is the third engine part that I’ve gotten with these annoying marks. All from different sources, too. If I ever find out which finger-having species is doing it, we are going to have words.”

Deep inside the cylinder, in a spot that likely would never have been seen by anyone but an agile mechanic, was a patch of handprints. Mimi had already smeared the ones made in grease, but the others looked like they might have been paint. All in earthtones. A cave painting in the depths of a spaceship.

Blip and Blop chorused, “Not it.”

I bit my lip to hide a smile. “It’s a mystery.”

~~~

Inspired by this excellent artwork by @letmeinimafairy! It deserved at least one story, if not several.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#'is anybody gonna write about this?' I said -- not waiting for an answer #gotta love the freedom to make a story happen when inspiration arrives #thanks for the inspiration @letmeinimafairy #my writing #The Token Human #science fiction #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #homesickness #in spaaace

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remuswriting · 3 days ago

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A KISS FROM THE SUN; MIYA ATSUMU

"Don't be shy. Let me hear you."

WORD COUNT: 326 words

TAGS: Post Time Skip; Making Out; Suggestive; Hickies; Male! Reader

NOTES: I have no idea if this is good because I genuinely never write this stuff. However, why not just write a short thing where it's just Y/N and Atsumu kissing? The world is my canvas, might as well have fun. (I'm sticking to my YA narratives, though. So this is probably a one time thing.)

Atsumu knows this is a bad idea, which may be why it’s such a good idea. It also doesn’t help that kissing Y/N has his head swimming, and every thought melting into nothing but the whimpers leaving him. The moment he’s able to think is when Y/N tugs at his hair slightly, ripping a moan out of him. Fuck.

Y/N pulls away slightly, their lips still so close together, and Atsumu whines as he chases after him. “Look at you,” Y/N says, and his voice is rough, showing that Atsumu isn’t the only one affected. “All desperate just from some kissing.”

Atsumu nods. “Yes,” he croaks out, and he wishes he could say more, but it’s hard. Y/N is still tugging at his hair, and the pain isn’t intense, but it has him seeing stars slightly from how good it feels. Everything feels so good.

His back hits the wall and Y/N’s knee parts Atsumu’s knees as he gets even more in his space. Atsumu wasn’t sure what he did in his previous life, but he must have been a saint to deserve this. That thought only grows louder when Y/N presses kisses along Atsumu’s jaw before nipping at his Adam’s apple. All that Atsumu does whimper and softly moan, but he wants to beg for marks. He wants Y/N to mark his territory, even if they’re not exclusive. Atsumu wants to be, though.

When Y/N finally bites the juncture of Atsumu’s neck and shoulder, Atsumu lets out a moan that has him slapping a hand over his mouth. Too loud. Way too loud for something so casual that no one is supposed to know about. Y/N laughs slightly before his tongue runs over the bite, as if trying to ease the pain.

“Don’t be shy,” Y/N says as he kisses up Atsumu’s neck and jaw before pressing a kiss to his lips. It’s far more innocent than anything they’ve shared before. “Let me hear you.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x male reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x male reader

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cuntlips42 · 13 hours ago

Text

jj maybank x bsf!reader *·˚

trying to relax on a 100 degree day in kildare is just about as hard as it sounds. the air is thick and humid in your lungs as you inhale, and the slippery slope of your back dribbles with sweat, soaking through your top and making it stick uncomfortably close to your skin. the sky is roamed by huge flies flitting erratically, bumping into your body and every so often, flying into your eyes and nose searching for moisture. annoyingly, each of your frustrated swats are doing absolutely nothing to deter them.

you’re attention gets grabbed by a small commotion coming from a table a few feet in front of you. a group of 3 kook girls sitting together, one now standing, moaning and groaning about how her now, iced tea-stained shirt, is ruined and 'absolutely unsalvageable'. her two just as kooky friends sit pliantly at the sticky white outdoor table, watching in disdain, sending derogatory glares to the young waitress.

you've seen her before - she's a pogue girl who lives a few houses down from you and has been in a few of your classes over the years. she also works at the wreck with kie, apparently unluckily for her.

she's a sweet girl. jess? wait no, joana?

j...something flutters hurriedly around the table with her mouth agape, attempting to somehow mend her collision with the customer that ended up with the kook girl covered in peach iced tea. you can't help but feel bad for the waitress, sure the kook is now sticky and probably a little gross, but it was obviously an accident, and from the way she's blabbering on, you'd think the girl just shot her puppy or something.

"oh god! i'm so, so, so sorry! here, let me-let me help you!" the waitress reaches for the cloth she placed on the table where the 3 girls are sat, before turning back to the kook and attempting to wipe off the excess drink that is now dripping from just about every surface on the top half of the girl's body. before the fabric can touch her, the kook slaps the cloth out of the girl’s hand.

"don't fuckin' touch me with that dirty rag! jesus christ - what is wrong with you? are you fucked in the head?" she scoffs slightly, ringing out her skirt before turning her head back to the two girls who sit quietly behind her "all those fucking dirty pogue diseases must've finally gone to your brain if you think i’m letting you come anywhere near me. clean this up before i step on glass and cut myself."

the girls behind her laugh loudly at her comment, and the pogue seems as if she’s on the verge of tears, probably from a mix of embarrassment and plain offense. sympathy claws at your throat as you watch the girl swallow and lean down to pick up the shards of glass from the smashed drink. you draw your eyes to the window of the wreck, eyeing your friends laughing joyously from a table inside. you were only supposed to duck out for a minute to answer a phone call from your mom - leaving the rest of the pogues sat inside feasting on whatever kie managed to convince her dad to feed you. you don’t usually get involved in altercations with kooks - being taught from a very young age that that is a fight you rarely ever win, but watching the girl half-hazardly scoop shards of glass into the cloth she once had thrown over her shoulder, you find your feet dragging you towards the scene.

as you reach down and start helping the girl shovel glass into the rag, her head snaps to you with a momentarily shocked expression, before giving you a soft, watery smile in recognition that you tried to return. you couldn’t help but feel bad for the girl - it was obvious that she found this whole situation mortifying, and in particular kook fashion, the girl just had to make it a bigger deal then it was.

the door to the wreck flies open, kiara tumbling through the door, apron still wrapped around her waist despite her shift ending an hour ago. she looks to where you were once perched against the wall, eyebrows furrowing when her eyes zero in on you and the girl knelt gingerly beside you, calling out your name in questioning “-julie? you guys okay?”

julie…..right.

“yeah – we’re ok! just broken glass.” julie croaks out in response. you turn back to your friend, raising your palm above your brows to shield your eyes from the afternoon sun, trying your best to give her a look that somehow translates to ‘not really all good- might need help’. her eyes widen a millimetre, before she looks over your shoulder, lips pressed together in slight concern at the sight of the kooks.

“do you mind getting us a broom?” you ask simply, voice soft yet carrying.

kiara glances back over your shoulder again, seemingly debating leaving you alone, before giving you a short nod in response and swiftly turning and running back into the restaurant. for a moment you forgot about them, but the kooks manage to make themselves known, laughing between themselves, legs kicked up onto the table, muttering about how "the rats obviously stick together" and giggling and gasping afterwards like the girl who said it was an original comedic genius.

jesus.

involuntarily, you choke out a scoff, attention still drawn to the shards of glass splayed along the ground.

“something funny, pogue?” you stiffen slightly, eyes flitting back up to the table, meeting the gaze of the blonde, slightly less iced tea soaked girl who’s glaring at you, one eyebrow cocked and a freshly manicured fingernail tapping against the tabletop. she says nothing, waiting for a response from you.

you spare a glance at the girl beside you, her head down and hands shaking slightly as tears well up in her eyes, and your heart breaks slightly. not wanting to accelerate things, you mutter out a soft “no”, the word tasting sour on your tongue, but you know better than to initiate a fight with a kook. plus- you’re main focus is just getting julie away from these crazies. she definitely deserves a break after this.

seemingly satisfied with your answer, the girl responds curtly “clean up the mess and then go away and get me a new drink.” she spits, eyes tearing away from yours to glare at the girl next to you. “it’s bad enough this idiot poured the first one all over me.”

your brows furrow in disbelief and words start tumbling out your mouth, against your better judgement, “jesus- do you have to be so rude all the time? it was obviously an accident, and she’s already apologised.” you crawl to your feet, standing level with the girl leaning against the table. the kook’s eyes narrow, nostril’s flaring in anger.

oh fuck.

her voice is loud and high pitched when she starts speaking again, stomping towards you, causing you to step back. “who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?”

the loud commotion draws the attention of some customers in the wreck- your friends included. you see them push through the door in the corner of your eye, kie in tow with a broom in hand, before they come to stand behind you supportively, ready to step in if necessary. john b’s eyebrows are furrowed, obviously confused by the situation and how you, of all people, managed to end up in it, pope is seemingly already stressed, hands splayed on his head above his ‘heywards’ cap, and jj has his hands in his pockets and a smirk playing at his lips. of fucking course.

the kook steps towards you again, getting in your face. julie stumbles sideways at the movement, still knelt down in an attempt to make herself small.

a sickening smirk graces the girls features, a lightbulb practically lighting up above her head, making your stomach twist. she grasps a strand of your hair between her hands, and you swallow before your yanking your body out of her touch.

jesus, pull it together.

the kook spares a glance to the gathering crowd behind you, smirk widening before she turns back to you “i don’t know why you think you can talk to me like that you know, - i’ve heard about you.. where you come from.. and i’m not talking about the cut.” your brows furrow in confusion – what is she talking about?

“i've heard that your mommy.. used to have a lot of fun back in the day" she cuts herself off with a malicious giggle, looking briefly over your shoulder to the 3 boys stood a few feet behind you. your teeth grit at the obvious implication. “guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree” she turns behind her to meet the chuckles of the two girls sat behind her. your face heats in embarrassment, and you feel your body light up with anger. how dare she?

when the girl turns back to face you, probably to utter another 'clever' remark, her face instead meets your fist.

she yelps pathetically, falling to the ground, hands instantly covering her face. gasps sound out from behind you, as well as a few whoops and hollers from what you're guessing are your friends. the 2 girls quickly jump to their feet, rushing over to the girl now rolling on the ground in pain, cupping her nose, crying and mumbling about how you’re a “crazy fucking pogue!”

pain stings through your knuckles, travelling through your veins to the base of your hand, your mouth agape a silent groan. holy shit that hurt!

it’s pretty much common knowledge that getting punched in the face would hurt, but nobody ever talks about how much it hurts punching someone in the face – and they definitely should, it would’ve impacted your decision.

the girls start frantically screaming, begging someone to help their friend amongst cries of how psycho you are. your feet are stuck in place and you're holding your wrist in the other hand, mouth agape in pain, when someone suddenly wraps their arms around your waist, yanking you in the air and chucking you over his shoulder, pulling you away from the scene as the bloody-nosed kook stands to her feet and starts screaming along with the other girls. “aaalright i think that’s enough for you girly - time to flee!” a goofy smile graces your face despite yourself at the sound of the familiar voice, and you start giggling in realisation of the fact that you just punched someone in the face – and god did it feel fucking good.

you get carried to the twinkie, bouncing over jj’s shoulder watching in awe as your friends bound away from the scene you inadvertently caused. the blonde boy quickly yanks you back over his shoulder, sitting you messily in the back of the van, before john b starts quickly speeding away from the wreck in response to the ‘go go go go’ echoing from the backseat. kie’s the first to speak, turning her body to take in your smile and already bruising knuckles incredulously from the passenger seat besides john b. “what the fuck? i can’t believe you just did that.” at the sight of your cheeky grin, her own lips curve up and her eyes crinkle at the force. “you really need to stop hanging around jj- he’s obviously a bad influence.” she looks to the boy next to you, giving him a fake glare. he just flips her off, making her roll her eyes and turn back to face the road.

you gulp, eyes wide “was it really that bad?” you begin to feel a little guilty, looking around the group for a response.

the aforementioned boy only throws his arm around your shoulder from his seat beside yours, a proud aura radiating off of him. “nah- you’re good, baby. she deserved that shit. you’re like our very own lil’ boxer” he playfully starts squaring up, fists raised, making you laugh and knock his shoulder with your own.

“i think i’m all punched out, actually. nobody told me it hurts so bad.” you wince, looking down at your knuckles and flexing them slowly, making pain spread out throughout your palm.

“well you basically slam chunks of cartilage and bone with your fist, it’s going to hurt like hell. plus, it looks like you hit her pretty hard. her nose was bleeding- i actually think you broke it.” pope offers, his gaze soft in attempt to comfort you from his seat across from you and jj.

you look up at him in shock, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline and you exhale quickly “hopefully she doesn’t try and hunt me down or somethin’ - i am not paying for her nose job.” jj chuckles besides you, grabbing your sore hand to look over your knuckles.

“you’ll be fine, babe- especially with that fiery right hook of yours, damn.” you feel your cheeks heat a touch at the pet name- it’s not unusual, and yet it still makes your lashes flutter and your chest tighten.

“yeah. besides, she should be grateful, she needed a nose job anyway. now she’s got an excuse.” john b mumbles from the driver’s seat, eyes still trained on the road. kie gasps in disbelief, hitting him in the shoulder. pope snorts, causing the brunette to break, smiling widely at the boy in the driver’s seat. john b smiles smugly, clearly proud of his comment, before using his fingers to mime out a large nose near his face, earning another shove from kiara, before shooting you a wink in the rearview mirror. you can’t help but laugh happily, subconsciously leaning into jj’s side as he strokes his fingers over your sore knuckles.

please send asks! id love to chat w you!! *·˚

#jj maybank #divider by ahimewa #jj maybank x reader #randomly thought of this situation and had to get it down #jj maybank thoughts ༊*·˚#bsf!reader #obx

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mischievouslittlecreature · 1 day ago

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Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy and Lucy read Lizzie's letter and meet with Michael after his return from America.

Word Count: 5,823

Warnings: Smut, blowjob, polyamory, references to pregnancy, and an unhappy marriage.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 6: A Display in the Dark

“Fucking hell.”

That was the first thing that passed Tommy’s lips when he was done reading the letter Lizzie had given Lucy to pass onto him. Lucy watched him toss the pages of closely-scrawled words onto his desk, ripping off his glasses to set down beside them.

She’d read the letter over his shoulder, squinting at the various spelling and grammatical errors throughout. Lucy wondered if maybe Lizzie had been drunk while writing at least some of it. She didn’t remember any of the work that she’d done as Tommy’s secretary being so sloppy.

The contempt which seemed to bleed out through the words scrawled on the pages was a stark contrast from the apologetic, saddened Lizzie she had spoken to not even an hour ago. But she supposed that she shouldn’t be all that surprised. That was how Lizzie was: sweet one moment, then wrathful in the next.

And to think that they all called her two-faced.

“I can’t really say if that was what I was expecting or not,” she commented, turning to look out the window at the darkened grounds. “What do you want to do about it?”

Tommy leaned back in his chair to rub at his eyes. He looked exhausted, dark circles swelling beneath his blue irises. “Nothing right now.”

She frowned. “Nothing? She’s talking about divorce, Tommy.”

“Yeah. If I don’t change.” His hand dropped to fold with the other in his lap, thumbs twiddling. “I don’t think that I can, Lucy,” his voice was quiet. She drew in closer to him, his distress serving like a beacon that summoned her to climb into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his forehead.

“You shouldn’t have to just to make her happy.” If she really loved him, she’d have loved him as he was, rather than demanding he change everything about himself just to please her. It baffled her that Lizzie couldn’t understand that.

Tommy dropped his face to rest against her collarbone, thumb circling around her hip bone after his hands came to rest on her waist.

“So what do we do?” she asked, nose pressing into his soft hair. “Let her leave? I’m not saying that I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but it’ll kick up all sorts of other problems…”

“I know,” he sighed, the puff of breath warm on her skin. “I’ll talk to her first. See if I can think of something to at least indulge her for a little while.”

“She acts like she’s living some horrible, deprived life.” She looked around at the enormous, ornate room they were seated in. Lined with bookshelves and expensive furniture with custom-made paintings hanging on the walls. “Outside of your love, it’s not like she wants for anything here.”

“Every time that I think she’s getting better, that she’s starting to accept…things, she slides back to where she was before.” He leaned closer into her. “I don’t know what more to do for her. I’m not sending you away, and I can’t pretend to feel about her in a way that I don’t.”

“Mm. She’d probably know you’re pretending and just get more angry about it, anyway.” Lucy started to stroke his hair. Her gaze drew back to the letter still laid out on the table, eyeing in warily. “I am surprised that she didn’t try to demand that you get rid of me.” It had been a notable omission in the letter, considering she knew that it was a spot of deep contention for Lizzie. Maybe, just maybe, that was a sign of some miniscule of progress.

“She knows that’s not an argument she’s going to win.”

Lucy leaned back just enough to be able to cup one of his cheeks, smiling a little in spite of herself at his eternal protectiveness over her. “Is it terrible that knowing that makes me happy?”

He shook his head, arms tightening around her. “She flat out refused to apologize for what she said about you, did you know that?”

“I figured as much.” She thought back to her latest chess game with Lizzie; how Lizzie had notably apologized for Charlie overhearing, but not for what she’d actually said.

“You’re not terrible,” he asserted firmly, leaning in to kiss her. “Not even a little.”

“Well…” she smiled against his lips. “I have killed quite a lot of people.” She giggled between kisses at the approving purr that came from his chest.

“And your point is…?”

She laughed at his unbothered tone, kissing him back more firmly, humming when one of his big hands found its way into her hair.

“Let’s not worry about her anymore right now,” Tommy whispered, tugging her closer.

A pang of remorse crackled through her at how easy it was for both of them to put Lizzie out of their minds. But then Tommy’s tongue slid into her mouth, and she became guilty of the very thing she’d moments ago been feeling ashamed of.

“It’s late,” he murmured, arms squeezing around her. “Let’s go to bed.”

She nodded in agreement, kissing him once more before climbing from his lap, biting back a grin at the way he chased her with his lips, a small whine leaving his throat. Taking hold of his hand, she pulled him up out of his chair, starting to lead the way around his desk and to the door.

“Wait,” he came to a stop. She watched as he gathered up the pages of Lizzie’s letter. His hand was still clutched firmly in hers, meaning that she was pulled along with him when he went to the fireplace. Kneeling, Tommy started to feed the first page of the letter into the cheerily crackling flames, watching it catch and start to blacken and curl at the edges before tossing it the rest of the way into the inferno. He divided the pages evenly between the two of them, and together they fed page after page of Lizzie’s letter into the fire, watching as the messy scrawl and resentful black words were swallowed up and eradicated completely.

“Feeling better?” Lucy asked, leaning her head against Tommy's shoulder, rubbing her hand up and down his arm.

“Yeah,” he kissed her hair, then doused the fire. Taking her hand again, he stood. “Come on.”

They made it back to her room in record time, Tommy practically pouncing on her as soon as the door was shut. Lucy giggled as his mouth crashed down onto hers, cupping both sides of his face while his hands ran all over her. The warmth of his palms burned through her clothes, grabbing at the swell of her hips, then making their way up to squeeze her clothed breasts. Her thighs pressed together as an ache began to build between them. Movements quick, if a little fumbling, she set to work at getting him out of his clothes.

His chest rumbled under her palms once she’d pushed his button-down off of his shoulders and slid the undershirt over his head, smoothing her hands across his naked skin. He’d been hard at work getting her own clothing unfastened, and it did not take long for her to be entirely bare before him. Arms going around his neck, she let out a rasped moan into their kiss as he palmed one of her breasts with one hand, thumb running over her hardened nipple.

“Tommy…”

“I know. I know. Come here.”

She hadn’t thought it possible for them to get any closer, and yet somehow he managed, hand on the center of her back pressing her tighter against him, and then he began to walk them with somewhat staggering steps in the general direction of the bed.

He groaned lowly when her hands slipped lower to cup the growing bulge in his trousers, giving him a soft squeeze that had him bucking into her hand. The backs of her legs knocked against the mattress, and then he was laying her down gently onto it, catching himself with his hands planted on either side of her head as he lowered himself on top of her.

The groan he released into her mouth as she hitched her legs up around his waist was delicious. She could feel his bulge pressing into her belly, his mouth moving more insistently on hers while his hands roamed her body. A whine left her lips when he pinched one of her nipples, legs tightening around him. He groaned again against her mouth, migrating from her lips to her neck, and she suddenly found herself very annoyed that he was still wearing his trousers.

As he moved to lavish her breasts with his mouth, she ran her fingers calculatingly down his strong back, feeling the shift and flex of his muscles as he moved over her. He was exquisite. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Hands moving lower, she circled her fingers around his belt loops and pulled him closer, giving an impatient yank to his belt buckle for good measure.

Tommy chuckled, tongue encircling one of her nipples before drawing it into his mouth. She jumped when his hand found its way between her thighs, testing her wetness with two fingers.

“Impatient,” he tutted at her whimpering and pushing her hips closer to his hand, trying to get his fingers to go deeper inside her.

“Tease,” she shot back, glaring playfully up at him. The wolfish grin splitting his face only grew, eyes dancing deviously with it. His thumb rolled across her clit, and she made a rather undignified sound, back arching. “Tommy, please.”

“Mm, but what if I want to keep you like this?” he cocked his head in mock contemplation, long lashes fluttering innocently against his cheekbones. “Keep you squirming and begging for me…” he grazed his lips across her cheek and curled his fingers inside her, just brushing up against the spot that had her head tipping back with a soft sigh. “That’s it…” his lips ghosted over her cheek as he leaned in closer, drawing his fingers out, slowly trailing them up and down her folds. Then slowly sinking them back in. At her moan and back arching, he pressed his body closer to hers. “That’s it.”

“You could at least take your trousers off,” she pouted, reaching around to give his clothed ass a squeeze. Her gaze went to the sizable bulge still pressing into her thigh. “Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

His hips shifted a little, no doubt feeling the tightness of the fabric constraining around his bulging cock. Sneaking her hand between them, Lucy cupped him in her palm, feeling the weight and pulse of his flesh even through the thick material of his clothes. A low grunt left Tommy’s lips, erection pushing into her hand.

Lucy grinned, but her triumph was short-lived. His fingers retracted from her cunt, both hands seizing hers, pinning them to the mattress by her head.

“Behave,” he growled, with no real weight or threat behind the word. Lucy smirked up at him, turning her hands to instead thread their fingers together, angling her head up to kiss him.

“No.” Soon as he was distracted by the press of their lips together, she squeezed at his hands, tightened her legs around his waist, and gave a strong twist to her hips. Rolling them so that he was the one with his back to the mattress. “I don’t think that I will,” she whispered against his mouth, taking his face in both of her hands.

Tommy’s eyes widened, surprise quickly melting away into delight. She felt where their chests were pressed together as his breath caught, hands going to her waist and lips curling upwards. Showing no complaint at her sudden seizing of the reins, he merely drew her closer, encouraging her to grind down onto him.

She indulged him for a moment before becoming impatient again, rising off to pull free his belt and push his trousers and shorts off. Tommy obediently lifted his hips to help her, and it wasn’t lost on her how he let out a soft sigh of relief as his cock was freed from the straining material to bob against his stomach. Red and throbbing.

Wrapping her palm loosely around him, thumb teasing at the weeping tip, she maneuvered herself to kneel between his legs. Tommy propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she eyed her prize where it pulsed in her hand.

Fixing her gaze squarely on his, she leaned forward, and licked a stripe across the tip. With a groan, Tommy tipped his head back, eyes fluttering closed as she gave just the tip of him a few sucks. His mouth dropped open when she started to take in more of him, breathing deeply through her nose to help relax her throat.

His groans only encouraged her to keep going as she set to work. Even when he hit the back of her throat and she almost gagged. One of his hands weaved through her hair, resting gently on the back of her head and helping guide her bobs on his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted, erection twitching heavily on her tongue. “Don’t stop. Just like that. Ohhhhh…” a drawn out, delicious sound left his lips at her movements.

It did not take long for her to start to feel the tension mounting in his thighs, his noises growing louder and more guttural as he neared his peak. Bracing her hands on his thighs, she gave him one last long, hard suck, and then pulled off completely. Tommy made a sharp whining sound, head raising slightly to peer down at her with lust-drunk eyes. Lucy smiled, climbing onto the bed to straddle him again, taking his cock back into her hand.

Sitting up, he looped an arm around her shoulders, their faces so close that their noses brushed. Tommy’s mouth was open, eyes blown wide. Lucy felt something in her stir at the sight of him so needy.

“Tell me you want me,” she requested, leaning into him, eyes fluttering when one of his hands flattened out at the center of her back, holding her close. His huge erection twitched in her palm.

“I want you,” Tommy groaned, her hand tightening around his cock at the same time that he spoke. “I always want you.” He traced the shape of her bottom lip with his thumb and she closed her eyes, turning her head to kiss his fingertips. Their foreheads came to rest against each other, and she started to guide him inside of her.

Eyes closing at the stretch of taking him, she gripped at his shoulders, Tommy pressing kisses to her collarbone and thumbs drawing circles into her skin while she got adjusted. Lucy buried her face in his neck. He smelled like a smoky campfire in the middle of the woods at night, warm and welcoming with an edge of danger and melancholy.

Locking her fingers in his hair, she gently tipped his head back, angling her face down to kiss him softly, and starting to move. Tommy groaned, gripping onto her thigh, fingers pressing into her skin tight enough to probably leave bruises. His eyes gazed into hers, fluttering when she traced over the sharp lines of his jaw.

There was nowhere in the world where she felt safer than in the circle of his arms. There was always such a gentleness to the way that he handled her. A tenderness. Like the mere thought of hurting her was too much for him to bear.

She had never felt so loved. So cherished. So wanted. Whenever her insecurities started to get the better of her, all it took was this. The joining of their bodies. Their very beings molding together. His hands on her and his eyes looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. Hips moving in time with hers, slow and deep as they worked together to bring them both to the peak of pleasure. Making love in such a way that it was impossible for her to doubt the existence of his feelings for her.

“Tommy,” she croaked out, hips still rolling into his, every bounce on his cock sending her nerve endings alight. His arms flexed, helping to support her weight. Their mouths were both open, moaning into the dark air of the bedroom, the bed frame starting to creak under their bodies. Lucy’s walls fluttered and tightened, the familiar warmth of an approaching orgasm building in her lower belly, clit twitching.

He brushed some hair that had fallen forward out of her face, cupping her cheek gently. A guttural groan left his chest when she took a moment to pause between thrusts just to grind on his cock, her eyes rolling at the pressure that doing so put on her clit. At this angle, his thick tip was pressing into her most sensitive spot. Taking hold of one of his hands, she guided it down until his fingers were at her clit, his digits immediately starting to rub in tight little circles.

Lucy’s breath stuttered in her lungs, back arching to press her breasts even more firmly against his chest. He growled lowly, thrusting his hips up more sharply into her, pressing down hard onto her clit. She cried out, the band inside her snapping, firelight exploding behind her eyes as she came.

Tommy caught her in his arms as her muscles gave way, clutching her close with a hand still on her back and the other cupping the back of her head. His hips continued to buck up into her, drawing out her orgasm while he approached his own. Lucy burrowed against him, letting him guide her through her high, gasping softly at the sensation of his cock swelling larger within her.

Grazing her teeth across his freckled shoulder, she felt more than heard Tommy moan, and then he was leaning back, staring into her face, nuzzling their noses together. He kissed her hard, pumping in one last time, gasping her name out into her mouth as she felt his cock pulse and start to release a heavy load inside of her.

Cupping his cheeks, she watched his face when he came, grunting softly with pleasure, eyelashes fluttering while he gazed at her. She gave an experimental little bounce on his still emptying cock, earning herself a louder, deeper moan from him. Eyes slipping closed, his hands grabbed at her hips to keep her still.

“Too sensitive,” he mumbled, starting to pepper kisses along her shoulder. Lucy hummed, immediately ceasing all movements to instead just snuggle him. Her arms wound around his neck, stroking his hair, lips finding his cheek.

Slowly, he reclined them both back onto the pillows. Lucy gingerly slipped off of his softening cock, and Tommy drew her in close to his chest, his fingertips starting to trace along her back. The skin was a mess of scars. Yet another gift Luca had given her during the three days she’d spent bound in the basement of a church with him. The cat o’ nine tails he’d whipped her with had done its job well, the pale skin twisted and marred.

She hated looking at it. Hated even thinking about it most of the time. All it did was remind her of those tortuous days. Not to mention made her feel so repulsed at her own reflection she could barely look in the mirror without gagging.

And yet Tommy’s gentle, adoring touch on them helped soothe some of the disgust she felt towards herself. Despite her best attempts to hide them from him, he’d seen all the scars that covered her body more times that she could count. Never once had he indicated even the slightest revulsion towards them. Under his gaze and hands, she almost was able to feel beautiful.

“You okay?” His voice interrupted her thoughts, and she wondered if he had been able to sense her getting lost in her own head again.

“Yeah,” she said, getting more comfortable on his chest. Tilting her head up, she looked into his blue eyes, seeming to practically glow in the otherwise darkness of the room. With the passion of desire clearing from her head, thoughts about the future—and their current roster of problems—were making themselves known again. “Tommy, what are we going to do?”

“About Lizzie?”

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I can’t give her what she wants, and I don’t know what else to do to make her happy.”

“Me neither.” Their voices were quiet despite it only being them in the room.

“Maybe if I sit her down and try to explain a couple things to her…” Tommy suggested.

“What kinds of things?”

“Just…how things are in my head.”

Lucy pushed herself up slightly on her arms to get a better look at him. “You’ve tried to let her in on multiple occasions. She always either ignores you or changes the subject.” It drove Lucy absolutely batty, to have to listen to Lizzie whine and cry about how Tommy ‘never let her in’ when she herself had seen him on multiple occasions try to open up to Lizzie, only for Lizzie to show no interest in what he was actually attempting to communicate to her. It was no wonder that over time he’d more or less given up any attempts at emotionally connecting with her.

“Yeah,” his chest went up and down with his sigh. Lucy stroked his skin in sympathy, wishing terribly that there was something–anything–that she could do to make it better.

“I’m sorry.”

His head angled down to look at her, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. The arm around her tightened, bringing her closer so he could kiss her forehead. “You make it all easier, you know.” His lips moved against her skin as he spoke before drawing back to look into her eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt herself flush, looking bashfully down, busying herself with trailing a hand through his chest hair. “You’d survive.”

“No,” his voice was deadly serious, Her gaze snapped back up to his, eyes wide. “I don’t think that I would.”

Her brows drew in, lips parting, head cocking a little to the side. She reached for him, both hands resting on his cheeks. He leaned into her touch, eyes sliding closed, a hand covering one of hers. “Tommy…”

“It’s alright,” he kissed the center of her palm.

“I couldn’t survive without you either.”

He gave her a look of deep understanding, kissing her softly on the lips. “C’mere.”

She let him pull her back into snuggling against him, closing her eyes with a soft sigh at how warm and comfy he was.

There was a sudden change in the weight on the bed, as a tiny little figure hopped up onto the mattress, searching for a warm place to join in the cuddle pile.

At the sudden, unexpected arrival of the cat, Tommy yelped in a way so unbecoming of one of England’s most feared gangsters that it sent Lucy into a fit of giggles. Trouble meowed, tail flicking back and forth, little paws picking carefully over the comforter towards them. Lucy kept on laughing, pressing a hand to her mouth to try to stifle it as Tommy scrambled to pull the blankets up around them.

“It’s just Trouble, love,” she snickered.

“Where the hell did she come from!?”

“She must’ve been hiding under the bed or something.”

He stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. “Do you think she was watching us?”

“Probably.” She raised an eyebrow when Tommy seemed to shrink a little into the pillows. Trouble padded over to her, purring when Lucy started to give her scratches under the chin. “You’re fine with other women watching us fuck, but the cat is where you draw the line?”

He just harrumphed in exasperation, raising a hand to rub down his face. Lucy rolled her eyes fondly, giving him a kiss in the center of his chest before turning her attention back to their cat.

“Hey, sweetie,” she cooed when Trouble rubbed her head against her palm. She then settled herself against Tommy’s side opposite where Lucy was laying, curling into a tight ball against him with a purr.

Like mother, like daughter, Lucy thought with a small smile as Tommy dropped his hand to pet Trouble’s back. She let her head rest back onto his chest, stroking over his ribs.

“She better mind the claws this time,” Tommy muttered, but made no move to push Trouble away. Lucy bit her lip to try to stifle a grin at the memory of Trouble climbing over his bare chest one night to get close to her. She’d woken up to him yelping in complaint of the scratches the cat had left in his chest, Trouble meowing back at him defiantly when he tried to scold her.

Tommy’s fingertip found the underside of her chin, tilting her head up.

“Oh, you find this amusing, do you?”

“Mhm.” She pressed her still smiling lips together.

He snorted, shaking his head, unable to fully keep the amusement out of his eyes. “The fucking cheek I get in this house, I swear…”

Laughing, she stretched up to kiss him once more.

∗ ∗ ∗

Polly was already at the Garrison when Lucy arrived with Tommy and Arthur. Pacing from side to side like an irritable cat, black cigarette clutched between her fingers, she eyed them warily upon their arrival and subsequent movements to go stand by the bar.

“You armed?” she asked them. At all three of their answers to the affirmative, Polly pursed her lips. Lucy raised an eyebrow at her request that they put their weapons behind the bar in case tempers flared. While Arthur irritably dumped the bullets in his gun out and then tossed the empty weapon onto the table, Lucy looked to Tommy for instruction, ready to follow his lead on whether or not he acquiesced to Polly’s request. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached into his suit jacket and removed his gun from its holster, turning and setting it on the bar behind him. Lucy mimicked his movements, hoisting herself up on her arms to perch on the edge of the bar next to Tommy, reaching behind her to lay her gun down next to his.

She busied herself fishing a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it while Tommy talked to Polly about the dream he’d had of a black cat. Which, according to Polly’s teachings, meant that there was a traitor close by. Polly’s face remained immovable the entire time. She had told them Michael was telling the truth when he said he didn’t betray them, but they would never be able to fully trust Polly when it came to Michael. She might lie to protect him. Or her motherly love for him could cloud her judgment.

Lucy was living proof that Polly’s perceptions of people weren’t always entirely correct, after all.

There was the sound of a car approaching outside, and Polly went to the front door to greet her son and his new wife. Tommy’s hand landed on Lucy’s thigh, smoothing up and down, warm even through the thick fabric of her trousers. She scooted a tad closer to him, until her thigh just barely brushed against his shoulder when he was leaning against the bar, sensing that he was in need of the closeness.

Polly came back in with Michael and Gina right behind her. Lucy took them both in with a careful, analytical eye.

They looked well. Michael had his hair slicked back, a fine beige coat draped over his suit. His face was the same as it had been the day he left for America, but his eyes were different. Colder. Harder. More guarded.

His wife, Gina Gray–formally Nelson, Lucy’s hasty research on her had revealed– stood beside him in her expensive furs. Blonde curls were styled carefully around her face, lips pressed in an eternally smug expression.

Lucy hated her from almost the first moment she laid eyes on her.

Snobbishness seemed to ooze from her, looking at them as if they were scum on the bottom of her shoe. A smirk danced across her lips, eyeing Tommy up before turning her gaze to Lucy. Her eyebrow raised as she zeroed in on the closeness of Lucy’s thigh to Tommy’s shoulder. Lucy stared back at her challengingly, half daring her to say something. Gina’s eyes met hers unflinchingly. Lucy cocked her head.

Little girl wants to come play with the gangsters, now does she?

Gina finally broke the silent stare-down, looking back at Tommy. Lucy kept her gaze focused on her for a moment longer, then returned to assessing Michael, who had started talking almost as soon as he and Gina had entered. Lucy wondered if he thought that if he could get a head start on the conversation, then he could control where it went.

When Tommy ordered Michael to sit down, he ignored him. Lucy’s eyes narrowed to slits at the blatant disrespect.

The boy had forgotten his place.

He should have come in there crawling on his hands and knees, begging them for forgiveness. Already he was extremely lucky to not have been greeted with a razor to his throat upon his arrival in England.

Instead, he stood there, and told them all about how he had come so close to betraying them, but oh, no, they should be grateful. They should be proud. Because his precious, smug little wife had stopped him. Even though he said it himself that he had already betrayed them in his heart.

Did he really not understand how significant that already was?

Did the idiot really not see how with every word, with every second that he continued to ignore Tommy’s order that he sit his ass down, he was only digging his own grave deeper?

“I told you to sit down, Michael,” Tommy finally interrupted. It wasn’t quite a snarl, but it was close. He’d clearly taken note of the blatant dismissal of his authority just as she had.

Michael went quiet. Then reached over to pull out the nearest chair to him at the table Polly had sat down at. But before he sank into it, he looked up at Tommy, and for a brief, sliver of a second, Lucy saw a look flash in his eyes of such ice-cold contempt, it could have given her frostbite.

It was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, but she knew that she hadn’t imagined it. She had felt the chill, the instinctive break-out of gooseflesh across her arms. The prickling at the back of her neck.

Danger was close by. Right in front of them.

There was an enemy in the room with them. Her gaze flickered briefly to Gina once more. Maybe even more than one.

The chair creaked, barely audibly, as Michael finally lowered himself into it. Gina leaned against the pillar beside him.

Tommy spoke slowly, each word carefully plucked, commanding Michael to tell him what happened on the ship in Belfast.

Lucy’s eyes narrowed as they listened to Michael’s story of how the Billy Boys had boarded the ship he and Gina had been on. They’d been offering a deal, Michael said, to help destroy Tommy. But then the IRA had interrupted them. He failed to elaborate on what happened with the Billy Boys and the IRA before Captain Swing took him captive.

When Polly tried to prompt Michael into actually saying that he did not deal with the Billy Boys, he gave her no straight answer. Instead he deflected with a weak smile, reaching for Gina’s hand, and announcing that he and Gina had gotten married because Gina was pregnant.

The whole room filled with stony silence, everyone looking expectantly to Tommy for his verdict.

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay, Michael. I believe you. Welcome home. Congratulations. Just remember…your unborn child has witnessed what you said…”

“Thomas!” Polly exclaimed, horrified.

“And it will be born accordingly.”

Michael just about launched himself out of his chair was a furious roar, impeded only by Arthur calmly stepping between him and his brother. Polly jumped from her seat. Tommy just blinked calmly, not moving.

Lucy burst into hysterical, mad-sounding cackles.

Even as Michael spat vitriol at Tommy from over Arthur’s shoulder, Tommy hardly even batted an eye, merely raising an eyebrow at his cousin. Lucy's unhinged cackles began to subside into quiet giggles. From behind Michael, she saw both Polly and Gina shoot her disturbed, puzzled looked. She just grinned, swaying back and forth delightedly, raising her cigarette to her lips.

She failed to see what all the fuss was about. If Michael was telling the truth, then he ought to have nothing to worry about.

The instructions that Tommy gave Michael regarding what he was to do next seemed only fair. He’d lost their company a lot of money. And yet Michael’s look of fury didn’t fade. Entitled cunt. Did he really think that they wouldn’t make him pay them back what he owed them?

It was Gina who ended up drawing her husband away. Crooning in her harsh American accent, the smug expression that had wavered only briefly at Tommy’s threat back firmly in place. Polly stormed out the door after them, expression hardened when she looked at Tommy before leaving. Arthur locked the door behind them.

Tommy grabbed his gun from behind the bar, passing Lucy hers so she could tuck it away into her suit jacket. The three of them gathered around the table in the center of the empty pub to debrief, Arthur meticulously sliding the bullets back into the chamber of his revolver while Tommy poured some whiskey.

“What do we think?” Arthur asked.

“If anything I’m more suspicious of him than I was when he came in,” Lucy took the glass Tommy offered her. “I don’t like how he deflected with Gina’s pregnancy there at the end.”

“Yeah. He never did answer Polly’s question, did he?” Arthur snorted, shaking his head, gaze going to his younger brother. “Tom?”

“So we’re all in agreement,” Tommy said slowly. “We don’t trust him.”

“So what do we do next?” Arthur asked, fingers pausing where he’d been about to slide the final bullet home in its chamber.

Tommy cleared his throat, pursing his lips together. His eyes met Lucy’s, and she sighed.

“Just suspicious words aren’t going to be enough to convince Polly,” she concluded.

“We keep him on a tight leash, for now.”

They all unanimously agreed. Michael would hate every second of it, but they needed to be sure.

Lucy thought back to the landmines she and Tommy had dug out of the garden, little specks of dirt still wedged in deep under her nails, and shivered.

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petalkitshadow · 3 days ago

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Talking About: Appledusk

So, Appledusk is a character who my interpretation of probably gets questioned the most by readers. Which is understandable! He's not really an antagonist in MV; or, at least, the reader is supposed to understand in MV that while Mapleshade views him antagonistically, the narration is biased into her favor due to the story being from her POV. But the role he takes on in PkS is quite actually antagonistic to Petalpaw and her struggles.... so I thought it would be interesting to dive into it and explain my thoughts behind why I wrote him the way I did!

So - I want to start out by saying that Appledusk is a fictional character. It doesn't bother me if you like Appledusk, or view him differently than I do. I just happen to dislike him, which I think is pretty clear from how he fits into Petalkit's Shadow, lol. But even if I dislike him, I still wanted him to play an interesting role and serve his purpose, which involves making him as frustrating as possible!

When coming up with ideas for how characters will be in PkS, I often don't have much to go on. Mapleshade is really the only character from the cast who has a ton of focus in the canon books. Appledusk is one of those characters who falls a bit in a middle ground. He has enough going for him in MV that you can get a basic idea for how he is, but you still gotta do a lot of legwork on figuring out deeper aspects of his character. for PkS, I look at the characters' actions and go, "what kind of person would do this?" and then write the kind of person who I think would do that, basically.

Appledusk, he struck me as being very focused on self preservation. When he's with Mapleshade in private, he has no problem being loving to her and the kits. But the moment he might face repercussions - repercussions Mapleshade is already facing, he becomes detached and cold. What stuck out to me is how Mapleshade kept thinking that Appledusk never asked the kits' names. Now, Mapleshade as a narrator is biased. But she's right - Appledusk never asks what the names of his children are. He gives no outward signs of grief when faced with their death, and he makes no attempt to speak privately with Mapleshade after the kits drown. Of course, anger is a very valid form of grief, as we all know from Petalpaw. but Appledusk then going on to throw Mapleshade under the bus, and not show her a shred of sympathy even though he is currently suffering from the exact same prejudice that cost Mapleshade everything, speaks to me a lot about his values. When faced with his supposed loved one at her lowest, with nothing left to lose, his reaction is to distance himself from her as much as possible in the hopes that he will be punished less. It's cowardly, it's infuriating, and makes him seem so, so cruel to me.

And then, there's Reedshine. Reedshine in canon irks me a lot, in a meta sense. She's been hurt in similar ways as Mapleshade. Appledusk cheated on her too! But she immediately forgives him, and shows no conflict about Appledusk's actions. She's given no room to grieve or to hurt, she has to immediately come to Appledusk's defense. Reedshine and Mapleshade were both made to bear pain that Appledusk had no interesting in helping them shoulder.

To me, it really felt like Appledusk took the women in his life for granted. Why else would he have an affair, and not confess to it until literal, physical, damning evidence was put on display for everyone to see? Did he consider his own feelings, his own wants and desires, to be more important than that of Mapleshade, or Reedshine's? Mapleshade, with her penchant for cold-blooded murder, is definitely a worse person than Appledusk. But Appledusk's cruelty, I think it gets more under my skin because it feels real. How many serial killers do you know? probably none. But how many indifferent men who think women are just too emotional do you know? how many half-rate, self-absorbed fathers do you know? probably a small selection, at least.

So, when coming up with the basics for PkS, I imagined in the wake of this fiasco, Appledusk would be most focused on his own image, like he seems to be in canon. He wants to go back to being an esteemed, respected warrior. What's the best way to do that? Is it to step up, and be there for his traumatized daughter, offer her guidance and try to to fill the void left by losing her other parent?

No, of course not. Because to Appledusk, his daughter is a constant reminder of the mistakes he's made. He doesn't want to reckon with those mistakes, and he doesn't want to consider that he did something wrong.

In a way... he is a lot like his daughter. (Petalpaw would kill me if she could read me typing this, lol). They both are set in their ways, and very, very stubborn.

So, tl;dr... Appledusk in PkS is an extrapolation based on what I interpret from his character. But he's a character with so little to go on I think there are many ways to interpret him. This is just my thought process about him!

#talk

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carefreecoffee · 1 day ago

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＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚Impromptu date: Shouto Todoroki˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Word count: 1.4k, Female reader

The phone rang for the fifth time already…

My date was supposed to pick me up from my dorm an hour ago. I had done my up, picked out my outfit with great detail and even managed to take an ‘everything shower’ from head to toe nearly passing out from the work I was putting into it.

I felt the tears pricking the corner of my eyes as the phone went to voicemail once more. It wasn't the first time he had stood me up, thinking he'd changed in due time. To my demise, Ii was wrong and with a huff, I threw my phone onto my plush bed, kicking off my shoes and groaning in frustration.

I know I shouldn’t be so worked up over some guy, however how could I not be? After all the work and time I spent getting ready, even checking in to make sure date night was still on! I sat at my desk, head in my hands as I held back the tears that threatened to fall, tilting my head up and trying to save my makeup.

A few tears successfully fall, smudging my makeup a bit as I curse lowly, wiping it away. I jolt in my chair as a knock is heard from the door. With a swivel, I stand up anxiously, reaching out for the door.

To my surprise it had been Todoroki who had decided to show up unexpectedly.

“Hey y/n, you left this down in the common rooms-” I watch as his eyes finally fully rake over me, taking in my current state.

“Are you uh- going somewhere?”

I ran a hand through my hair, leaning on my door as I held the handle. “Um, i mean, i was going to but my plans kinda…fell through” I chuckle sheepishly

I look at his hands, seeing some of my textbooks I had left from earlier. I take them from his hands, thanking him.

“Yeah, no problem” He glances over at me once more and I internally cringe at how I must look right now; disheveled, tired. “Are you okay?”

I look at him quizzically before remembering how my face must look with the state of my makeup. “No no yeah im okay” I wiped my eyes slightly, trying to take off any extra mascara that had smeared.

Shouto looked at me with a quirked brow, clearly not buying my obvious bluff. “What happened?”

I sigh, feeling the former emotions reel back into me and I reluctantly begin to open up. “Ah well- I had a date today actually but he.. kinda bailed on me last minute” I rub my neck, looking away awkwardly.

“Oh, I see. I'm sorry to hear that, y/n” He shoves his fists in his pockets, brows furrowed slightly. I wave him off, opening up the door a bit more.

“It's fine! Really, don't feel bad” I try giving him a reassuring smile, hoping he doesn't pry further.

He seemed to be lost in thought until his heterochromatic eyes met mine once more. “Are you doing anything else today?”

I shake my head rather automatically at his questioning, knowing all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball on my bed, watch shitty drama TV and snack to my heart's content.

He hums, “Well if you wanna- uh, we could go somewhere so you didn't get dressed for nothing, if you want of course..?” I notice the small bit of hesitation in his voice, his hands shifting a bit in his pants pockets.

His consideration filled my heart slightly. At least someone knows how much work goes into looking this good. I take in his questioning before nodding, “Yeah…that actually sounds like a good idea” I smile, leaning on the doorframe now, fumbling with the hem of my outfit. “What do you have in mind?”

Shouto looks at you in slight surprise, knowing you’d probably rather be alone right now but not entirely upset about your answer. “Whatever you want. We’ve got a couple hours until curfew” He checks his watch before looking at me expectantly.

I nod and grin, “ ‘Kay, let me grab my shoes real quick” I shut the door before quickly slipping my shoes back on, grabbing my bag and a jacket for when it gets cold later on. Maybe this night was going to turn out to be fine after all, and without my flaking date.

I opened the door once more before locking it, looking at Shouto as he leaned on the wall across from me. “Ready?”

I nod, walking in tow with him as we make our way down the corridor, into the elevator and finally out of the dormitories. The sun was up and gleaming, thankful that I was able to get out somehow today and especially with the great weather.

We make our way toward one of my favourite places; a cute secluded cafe with the best tea on earth (I swear). “I walk toward it happily, entering, ordering and looking to Shouto.

“Do you want anything?”

He looks at the menu before nodding, a small grin on his face as he orders a small boba tea, his hand reaching into his pocket for his wallet. I go to stop him but before I can, the transaction is made. As we wait for the drinks, I speak up.

“You didn't have to pay for it you know”

He shakes his head, placing his wallet back into his back pocket. “It was nothing. The woman shouldn't have to pay”

His bluntness brings an end to my protesting. We grab our drinks and head out, walking along the sidewalk as we enter the busier parts of the streets, drinking my drink happily as we walk in tandem.

“Where to next?” Shoutos soft voice breaks the comfy silence, his eyes meeting mine as I speak up.

“Well, we planned on going to the arcade near the movie theatre but only if you’d wanna go-”

“I would” He interrupts rather enthusiastically, mumbling a small apology after noticing his rudeness. All I could do was smile and nod before leading the way a couple blocks down as we fell into conversation.

The arcade was lively with lights blaring and every machine making sound. My eyes light up as I point toward a few, ushering Shouto toward me.

We take our time with each game, Shouto seemingly breaking out of his shell by the second. The smile on my face spreads as we earn tickets, win prizes and ultimately use our tickets, spending them on the usual small toys; Rings, fake tattoos, candies. It wasn't until I finished spending my tickets that he pushed a plush panda stuffed animal toward me.

It looked soft, holding a cute little drink with big gleaming plastic eyes. I look at Shouto, albeit confused. “For me?” I took it from his grasp hesitantly as he nodded.

“Mhm” Was all he conjured, spending his tickets on the smaller items as well as he left me wondering and looking down at the plushie. It had to be a good few hundred tickets, with the good quality and cute exterior.

He nods to me, ushering to leave. We set foot on the concrete once more, heading back to the dorms; both hungry and spent from the fun outing.

“Did you have fun?” He asks, looking at me expectantly.

I nod without hesitation, “Of course I did! And I totally beat you at Dance Dance Revolution” I nudged his arm playfully.

He chuckles, the sound light in the air as it transfers to my own emotions, the root of this outing fully leaving my mind. We reach the entrance of ‘Heights Alliance’ once more, walking through the gates and reaching the dormitories. He holds the door open for me, allowing me to walk by with a thank you.

As we enter, the sight of our friends and respective classmates refreshes me. I smile and wave before b-lining for the kitchen to make up something quick to eat. Shouto follows much to my surprise.

I glanced over to see him also taking out ingredients for what looked to be instant soba. I smile softly, “Thanks by the way”

He hums before waving me off. “It wasn’t a problem, y/n” His eyes made contact with mine as I shut the fridge. “Besides, you deserved it” A small, rare smile makes way to his porcelain skin, making my heart lurch slightly as I feel my ears heat slightly.

All I could reciprocate was a wider smile than before, engaging in small talk as we prepared our respective dinners.

Even if my plans fell through, I guess it wasn't all that bad. I'm glad to have a friend who considered me and even made me feel something i don't think i had felt in a while. Here wa_s to many more impromptu hangouts- or what I wanted to consider; dates.

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oopsiedaisiesbaby · 2 days ago

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I’m adoring all your omega Gale AUs and thoughts and I can’t stop thinking about a canon one where Gale has managed to hide he’s an omega and no one knows until he starts trying to make a nest in the stalag. Extra angst because they feel the need to protect and care and provide but there’s so much danger and lack of basic needs for Gale 🥺

Oh mylanta 🥹 Thank you so much ❤️

I should be going to bed but this one is just too good! Got me feeling like:

First of all… the angst of Gale fighting every day to hide who he is. He’s gotta be so anxious and exhausted. I’m assuming probably some horrendous feelings of guilt over lying by omission to people that are essentially his family while serving. He knows it’s for a good reason/cause but it doesn’t lessen the churning, sick feeling in his gut or the pervasive fatigue at suppressing himself and trying to act like something he isn’t all day every day.

Then… being in the stalag and not having access to suppressants and also it’s just so hopeless, understimulating, and he feels so useless in the stalag that it makes it harder and harder to hide behaviors because he’s so busy putting energy into just appearing okay for his men much less hide his designation. So he unintentionally starts stealing everyone’s softest clothing to make a nest just to feel somewhat okay and when everyone notices there’s not even a second of them feeling betrayed at Buck hiding this from them.

They’re all just heartbroken that there’s essentially nothing they can do for him this far into enemy territory. Sure, conditions are better in their camp than elsewhere but that doesn’t mean it’s safe for an omega. So they start secretly adding items to Gale’s nest that they think he’ll like, trying to give him extra portions of food and water… etc. and it does bring him some comfort but it’s so clearly not enough and everyone’s self worth is just tanked because they all love and admire Buck so much and they hate that there’s nothing they can do.

Meanwhile Gale’s self worth is in shambles because he’s supposed to be taking care of his men not the other way around. He feels so weak and like he’s failing them as a leader. Someone’s crying in this one and I kind of want it to be Gale.

This is just so chefs kiss 🤌🧑‍🍳😘 Seriously want to write it 🙌

I need to go to bed and not ramble anymore but my heart is absolutely shattered thinking about how Gale’s first heat in the stalag would go 😭

#oopsieanswers #mota #masters of the air #gale cleven #abo #fic idea

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2nd2ndalto · 2 days ago

Text

nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention

Part 2! Editing and re-editing this took so much longer than it should have. Never underestimate my ability to create plot holes in something that barely has a plot, I guess.

Chapter 2

(chapter 1 here)

Nico goes very, very pale. “What – what does that mean?”

Will knows Nico well enough to be able to recognize that he’s trying very hard to keep it together. Will also knows Nico well enough to see that he’s terrified.

Maybe Will’s wrong about the pollen, though. Could he be? Almost scared to try, he holds a hand out in front of him, tries to feel his way into his powers, to summon any semblance of a glow.

Fuck. Nothing. It feels like a spent muscle, drained and useless.

Will steels himself. He's had some experience delivering bad medical news, unfortunately. He tries to ignore the way his whole body feels like a live wire, fizzing. “I don’t suppose you’re familiar with the original Star Trek series?” he asks.

Nico just blinks.

“I think it was the first reference to – sex pollen. In modern media. There’s an episode where the crew of The Enterprise visits a planet where all the inhabitants are mysteriously in perfect health and in perpetual – bliss. They discover these spores. Which are like an – aphrodisiac,” Will says haltingly.

“An aphrodisiac?” Nico says weakly.

“Yeah. And this – substance. That we inhaled. It has similar effects. Aphrodisiac effects.”

Nico hasn’t taken his eyes off Will for a single second, clearly fighting to make sense of all this. Likely trying to come up with a way out, any available loophole.

“So what do we do?” Nico whispers. “How do we – how long does it last?” He’s still sitting just inches away, all tense and… warm.

The level of attraction Will’s feeling towards his friend is off the charts, incredibly distracting. If he swayed forward just a few inches, he’d be able to feel Nico’s hot breath on his skin, press his mouth to the square line of Nico’s stubbled jaw… And gods, the way Nico’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, how much Will wants to bite them –

“Will?” Nico sounds just on the edge of panic, and that’s enough to snap Will back to reality for a second. Because yes, he’s feeling all these things for Nico, but there’s absolutely no reason to think that Nico might have the same feelings in return, Will reminds himself firmly, trying to cling to the little bits of sanity and logic he’s still able to access.

“It’s nothing I’ve studied extensively,” Will says. “But from what I remember, the effects should last about twelve hours, depending on the dose. And we both got a good faceful.”

“Twelve hours.” Nico sounds breathless. “But we can’t – can’t you do something? Or – or I can shadow travel us out of here – the hospital in New Rome –”

Will swallows. “You won’t be able to. The spores disable your powers. I just tried to use mine, and – there’s nothing there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean – you could try.”

Will knows better than anyone that Nico’s physiology can be unpredictable. He remembers unicorn draught. A flash in his mind: Nico’s hand, slipping right through his, no substance to it. Will’s stomach still churns with the memory.

Nico stills, closes his eyes. The tension rising in his body is almost tangible, a string pulled tighter and tighter –

“Fuck. Fuck.” He sags, drops his head to his hands.

“Yeah,” Will breathes, bleak agreement. “And the symptoms – are pretty much everything you’d imagine that would go along with heightened sexual arousal,” he says, forcing himself to relay this information as clinically as possible. “So, like –”

“It’s okay,” Nico interrupts. “You don’t have to – I think I can figure it out.”

Will’s eyes settle Nico’s leather-clad back, heaving with his breath. What a fucking mess.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault,” Will says.

“No, Will.” Nico sits up. He’s flushed, glowing – and okay, it’s probably sweat, actually, but he’s incredibly, breathtakingly gorgeous. And he’s looking at Will with so much care and sympathy. “It’s really not your fault.”

“It was my idea to open the urn,” Will says, guilt burning in his chest. He can almost never stop the impulse. “I – I should have remembered about the spores. Because I can’t do anything about it now, but maybe I could have, if I’d caught it sooner, if I’d remembered –”

“No, stop that,” Nico says, stern, intimately familiar with Will’s spiralling thought processes. “It’s not your fault. And anyway it’s – it’s not a big deal, right? We’ve been through worse.”

It makes Will’s throat go tight, the way Nico can pivot so quickly, the way he just decides we can do this, because he knows that’s what Will needs to hear.

Will wants so badly to give him the same reassurance in return. “Maybe – let me try,” he says. “To see if I can do anything to help. I tried to summon a glow a few minutes ago, and it didn’t work, but –” he offers a hand to Nico. Nico takes it, automatic.

Will closes his eyes and tries to push the arousal from his brain, tries to gather the threads in his mind that can reach out and feel. Feeling Nico is normally second nature, easy as breathing. Will tries. And tries.

He drops Nico’s hand, frustrated. It aches, letting go, and Nico clearly feels it too, letting out a soft whine.

“Fuck. I’ve got nothing,” Will says. He’s sweating even harder now, a trickle of it down his back. “It’s like everything’s blocked. Like all my powers are behind a locked door, and I just – can’t.

“It felt like it was working for a second,” Nico says, shaky. “When you were – holding my hand. I felt like – like everything kind of – settled.”

Will gazes at Nico, forcing his brain to work through the problem, consider the facts of the matter. Gods it’s so much more difficult than it should be. Everything feels like swimming through mud, dense and blinding. But – “the spores – they want skin-to-skin contact, right? So that’s got to help ease the effects, somehow,” Will says slowly. Does that make sense? He thinks it makes sense.

“So can we – is it okay if we – hold hands?” Nico asks, awkward.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’ll be a blessing, if that’s all it takes. Will reaches for Nico’s hand, linking their fingers together. The relief is immediate, like a balm. A sudden breeze on a sweltering summer day.

“Oh, that’s –” Will breathes.

“Better, yeah,” Nico sighs. He closes his eyes and there’s a long moment of quiet, the two of them sitting side by side on Will’s bed. There’s the slam of a door somewhere down the hallway, and the ding of the elevator. But it suddenly feels as if everything’s muted, like anything taking place beyond the two of them is inconsequential.

“So what do we do now?” Nico murmurs. “Just – sit here holding hands for twelve hours?”

“We can,” Will says, just as soft. The comfort is almost overwhelming. Feeling Nico’s vital energy has always been calming. And though Will can’t actually do that at the moment, this is an awfully good substitute. The arousal hasn’t abated in the slightest, boiling heat in his veins, but Nico’s nearness is making everything fuzzy at the edges. Soft and floaty. Will can feel his heart rate slowing, his shoulders relaxing.

“It’s nice,” Nico says. For a second Will thinks he means to say more, but then they just fall into silence again, heat and breath.

How many other times have they sat together like this, in soft conversation or in silence, just taking comfort in each other? How many times have Will’s worries and problems culminated in just this: the two of them quiet, together. The reassurance that Nico knows him like no one else does. And that he’s going stay, no matter what else changes in their lives.

“I can probably do this for twelve hours,” Nico says. He sounds so much calmer now. “I mean, it wasn’t how I planned to spend the evening. But it’s always nice hanging out with you.” He squeezes Will’s hand and the feeling of it tingles all over Will’s body, sparking to his fingers and his toes. And his dick.

Shit.

Will takes a deep breath, lets it out slow, measured.

He's been doing his best not to focus on it, but he’s very, very hard. And the longer they sit here in quiet, the more he’s extremely aware of the throbbing ache in his groin. He shifts, just slightly.

Quiet again.

“You okay?” Nico asks.

“Yeah, I’m – I’m hanging in there,” Will says. But it’s starting to feel… less good.

“How long do you think it’s been since we opened the urn?” Nico asks. “Maybe an hour?”

“Maybe?” Will opens his eyes to check his watch. “Yeah. Almost.” He shifts again. “I – I’m getting a little uncomfortable,” he admits.

“Oh. From sitting?” Nico asks. He turns to look at Will, and gods Will needs to kiss him. He needs to. A tip of their heads and they’d be close enough, Will’s fingers winding in dark hair, and Nico’s lips would part –

Will pulls his hand away and stands, abrupt. Nico lets out a soft sound of protest, swaying towards Will for a moment before sitting back again, looking adorably disappointed.

And what if… what if Will could kiss that look right off his face?

Will presses both hands over his eyes. Gods, he’s got to get it together. This hotel room is so fucking small. “I – I think it wants – more,” he says.

“What?” Nico says. At least his voice doesn’t come closer. Will doesn’t think he could take it.

“The spores,” Will grits out. “It – the physical contact. It’s – rewarding. In the short term. But then the spores want more. More contact. More – skin.”

“Oh –”

“So holding hands isn’t enough. After a while.”

“So what do we do?” Nico asks. He looks more uncomfortable now too, awkwardly shifting his hips like maybe his jeans are too tight. And for the first time Will’s exquisitely aware that Nico’s likely just as hard as he is, just a few feet and a couple of layers of fabric away. And maybe that shouldn’t be such an enormous jolt to his system, but it is. Will groans.

“Will –” Nico stands, reaches out, then takes a step back, looking desperately unsure.

Gods, this is the fucking worst. How on earth are they supposed to endure eleven more hours of this? Now that they’re not touching anymore, it’s as if every outside sensation is amplified in a way that makes Will want to crawl out of his skin. The soft light from the bedside lamps is too bright and the quiet murmur of the TV in the next room is deafening. Most of all, the ache in his groin is superseding all his other, more sensible thought processes. He’s desperate to take the few steps into Nico’s space, take Nico’s face in his hands and –

He’s your friend he’s your friend he’s your friend, Will chants internally.

“We – we can – it wants us to… reproduce,” Will manages. “That’s the only way to nullify it. Without waiting for the effects to wear off.”

Nico laughs, bleak. “It wants – Will, you and I could fuck for twelve hours straight and there still wouldn’t be any reproduction.”

And suddenly all Will’s stupid, stupid brain can hear is you and I could fuck for twelve hours straight. You and I could fuck for twelve hours straight. You and I could fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Will very carefully does not look at Nico. His friend. “It – I think it’s happy with – with an orgasm,” he says, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “I don’t think there would be any way for it to determine whether there was actual – you know. Mating.”

A long silence, Will focusing determinedly on the swirly pattern of the carpet at his feet.

“And – couldn’t we satisfy that requirement – separately?” Nico asks in a small voice.

Will shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Not the way these processes usually work.”

“So the only way to finish this sooner would be –”

“Yeah,” Will whispers. He finally looks up.

The expression on Nico’s face is heartbreaking. Aching and conflicted. Nico opens his mouth. Closes it again.

“Obviously we don’t have to,” Will rushes to say. “There’s no – it won’t hurt us. Physically. To wait it out. There wouldn’t be any long-term effects.”

“It’s just – you’re my friend, Will. You’re my best friend,” Nico whispers.

Will feels tears spring to his eyes and gods, he wants so badly to close the distance between them, drag Nico him into a hug.

Tensing every muscle in his body, he stays where he is. “You’re my best friend, too,” he says, his voice rough.

“I honestly don’t know what I’d do. If I lost you,” Nico says. He sounds so sure, so earnest, even with his breath quickened, pupils blown wide.

“It’s okay,” Will croaks. “I get it. I know.”

Then, unthinking, because the itch is just so powerful, Will presses the heel of his hand to his aching dick, desperate for just a second of relief.

Nico’s eyes follow the motion and he takes in a soft gasp. “Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers, looking away.

Will’s eyes go wide. “No, I’m sorry –”

“I – I think I’m gonna take a shower. I just – I need a minute. And obviously we’re not leaving again tonight, so I might as well change into pjs.” Nico says all this very quickly. He turns jerkily, rummages in his backpack for a second and practically runs into the bathroom.

Will sinks to the couch in the corner. He leans back. Closes his eyes. He hears the bathroom door close, the click of the lock.

He wonders if Nico is going to attempt to take care of things on his own in there.

Oh gods, of course he is.

Will supposes he could do the same, while he’s got a few minutes of privacy. After all, he can’t think of any reason it would make things worse. But instead he sits very, very still. Breathes.

Finally, the bathroom door opens. Nico, clad in a band tee and sweats now, emerges in a cloud of steam. Will gives him a questioning look.

“Didn’t work,” Nico says shortly.

(chapter 3 here)

thanks again to @rosyredlipstick for the beta!! <3

#Nico di Angelo #will solace #solangelo #my writing #fluff and smut #rated adult #sex pollen #but it's very consensual #NOT fuck or die

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