#what can I say? I have a weakness for men with pretty noses and big brown eyes who are obsessed with contracts

[bitethedevil]

fighting the urge to start a sideblog dedicated to Lucanis from Dragon Age and naming it “bitethedemon”

[flowercrowngods]

in which steve is sick, eddie is in love, and floor time is being had

Eddie is in the kitchen when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching him. The smile is on his face before he even turns around to catch a glimpse of Steve, gloriously disheveled from all that sleep he’s been catching up on. He’s wearing one of Eddie’s big, fuzzy sweaters that Steve always hogs when he’s sick — which, thankfully, isn’t all that often —, a thick pair of sweats and mismatched socks.

Sickness is the time to wear mismatched socks without judgment, Edwin Munswin, Steve had huffed the first time Eddie saw him with a runny nose and ridiculous socks that definitely didn’t belong together. It had been the first time he admitted to himself that he was absolutely gone for Steve Runny Nose Harrington.

And so it doesn’t come as a surprise to him that his heart stumbles in his chest and the smile on his lips widens. Steve might hate being sick, but Eddie can’t really help but love him even more when he gets like this. When Steve allows himself to be a little weak and for Eddie to take care of him.

“Hi, sunshine,” Eddie says, turning down the heat on the stove to go over to his Stevie, wrapping his arms around the blanket Steve still has around his shoulders. “Sleep well?”

“Mmh.” It’s nothing more than a raspy grunt, a pathetic little noise as Steve cuddles further into Eddie, seeking out his warmth and comfort so freely that Eddie presses a kiss to his slightly sweaty forehead. “Missed you.”

“I’m right here,” he promises, running a hand up and down Steve’s back. “Just made you tea while the soup is warming up. Because you’re gonna have to eat.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, sounding solemn as he does, and Eddie wants to laugh. Gods, he’s so in love, it’s disgusting. Ridiculous. Absolutely laughable. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” A whisper, another promise, another kiss. He unwinds his arms and looks back at the giant pot of soup he made yesterday. “Do you wanna go back to bed or stay here?”

“Here,” Steve sighs and promptly sinks down the counter until he’s sitting on the floor, looking up at Eddie with those beautiful brown eyes, so big and and full of love that Eddie can’t resist ruffling his hair, which earns him a little giggle from Steve.

Oh, right, he’s had the good stuff prescribed from the doctor. This is going to be fun in a few hours.

“You ridiculous man,” Eddie murmurs, trailing his hand from the crown of Steve’s head down across his cheek all the way to his chin in a gentle caress.

“Go back to your soup, you most ridiculous of men,” Steve says in retaliation, but he reaches for his hand to hold as Eddie returns to the stove.

“Technically it’s your soup.”

“That’s what I said.” Eddie looks down to see the most adorable of frowns on Steve’s head, and his heart explodes a little in his chest.

He snorts and squeezes Steve’s hand. “Sure is, baby.”

“See? I’m smart sometimes.”

“No argument from me there,” Eddie says, and he means it.

A hum comes from Steve and then he leans his head against Eddie’s leg. “You’re so nice to me, Eds. I like that you’re nice to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then it’s quiet, and the weight of Steve against his leg becomes heavier by the second to the point where Eddie is pretty sure Steve’s fallen asleep again. He doesn’t dare to move, but dear God he wants to laugh, he wants to cry, wants to scream at the world how much he loves this ridiculous, adorable, possibly delirious and high on cold medication man who is wrapped in his blanket on their kitchen floor.

“Stevie,” he whispers at last, the soup hot, the tea just cool enough, and cards his hand through Steve’s hair to wake him. “Sunshine, wake up, I have soup for you.”

“Soup?”

“Soup.”

“But I love soup.”

“Then I have great news for you,” Eddie laughs and tilts Steve’s head up so he’ll meet his eyes. “It’s plenty, it’s warm, and you can have some. It’s right here.”

“You made me soup?”

“Yeah, babe,” Eddie chuckles, his heart tearing itself apart at the way Stevie looks up at him with such wonder and awe and love. “I made you so much soup. All for you.”

Steve nods, thinks for a moment and then looks up at Eddie again. “Can we share?”

“You wanna share your soup with me?” Eddie says, crouching down so he’s on eye level with Steve and can brush a kiss to his forehead again.

Steve nods again and reaches for him, clinging to Eddie’s sweater — well, it’s Steve’s technically. “Wanna share everything with you.“

“Even your blanket?”

Steve smiles and nods again, lifting one arm to invite Eddie in, which earns him a laugh. “Alright, let me just…”

He grabs two bowls of soup, Steve’s large mug of tea, two spoons and two pillows from their chairs so they can eat the soup on the floor without uncomfortable heat in their laps.

Later, when soup is but a distant memory of half an hour ago, Steve lets himself fall to the side and slumps into Eddie, head nestled on his shoulder.

“Sleep time again?” Eddie asks.

“No,” Steve slurs, definitely already on his way to half asleep. “Just. Just love you.”

Eddie hums and leans into Steve in return, warm underneath their blanket, surprisingly comfortable on the floor, backs against the counter. “Just love you, too, sunshine.”

And if Eddie closes his eyes, too, lulled into a sleepy state of comfort and warmth, then that’s just one more thing that happens with a sick Steve around.

In sickness and in health, he thinks with that same smile on his lips.

for @seidenbros, i besmooch your forehead with this 🌷🤍

[ghostfanwriter]

✨🔥 Safe 🔥✨

Part two

✨ Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x afab! Non-Innocent reader

🔥 Synopsis: Your group gets surprised by Joel's, and when one of you refuses to give when what they want, Joel takes all of you back to his base, keeping you to play housewife in his house.

✨ Features: 🔞 Age gap (Joel in his early 50's, reader in her mid 20's), kidnapping, teasing, a bit of exhibitionism (just for him, though), oral sex (m receiving).

🔥 Word count: Over 3k.

✨ About this: This is the first half of a two part story. I wanted to explore Raider!Joel meeting a non innocent reader, because let's be honest here, we eat this shit up, so we wouldn't be exactly sad if that man did it to us.

🔥 Author's note: This one also took me forever to figure out. I wanted him to have a kinda toxic but soft vibe. Like, he's not forcing you, clearly, but he also touches and undresses you before you ever give him any clear sign you're okay with it. He's gross but in a delicious Joel Miller way.

Good reading ✨🔥

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You know it's wrong to enjoy this, God wants to believe you know it. But you can't help yourself.

You and three others from your group were on a run for supplies when three cars full of men surprised you. They were armed and said you just had to give them all your supplies and no one would get hurt.

When one of the men with you didn't want to cooperate, things went south and the leader of the group got out of one of the cars. He shot a warning shot and yelled. All of his men went quiet and gave him space to talk to your people.

The second you saw the man you had to swallow back a moan.

His broad shoulders, huge hands — God if your fingers felt good, imagine those —, his God-like sculpted face and nose, his fluffy hair, his belly showing through his shirt.

Everything your eyes land on make you feel more dizzy.

Your thoughts must have been painted all over your face, because the second the man looked at you, he smirked.

You didn't look away, though.

You held his stare, smiling back, forgetting for a second the situation you were on. The fact that his men were looting your group. The fact that he was the type you usually shot right between the eyes without faltering.

You were more focused on him, on his face, his smile. His figure. How much the big men around him respected him.

Shooting his pretty face was the last thing on your mind.

He looked at all of you again, making himself loud and clear while sounding assertive and calm. His voice making you lightheaded.

"Now, we were going to take your stuff, maybe punch one or two of you on the face — not you though, sugar." He says, turning to point and smile at you. "And then leave and let you go." He says looking back at everyone.

"But when you point a gun at my men? That fucking destroys the deal, man!" He — sounding surprisingly calm — tells the man who denied to give his men your supplies.

"So here's the thing. We're gonna take you back to our place and we'll keep you there with us for a while. You'll work for us and then maybe, if I feel like you deserve it, I'll let you go." He looks at you again, analyzing you, up and down. Then stopping at your face. "I'm sure you'll all have great use for us." He says with a warm smile. Your eyes falter and your cheeks burn.

They blindfold you, so you don't see where their base is. And the big man is the one doing it to you. Your heart beating all over your body when you feel his warmth and his chest on your back.

He definitely did not need to be this close to you to do this.

"This is just a formality, alright, darling? Just to be sure." His hands are rough, but his touch is soft against your skin. He carefully wraps the fabric around your face, "Is it too tight?" he whispers low and breathy on your ears.

You hate it, but you let out a weak and pathetic moan, almost giving in and letting your body melt back against his chest. "Mmn. Huh hm. It's fine."

You can fucking feel his smirk on the back of your neck. "Good."

✨🔥✨.

On your ride to his base you feel his hand on your thigh, just to keep you steady, according to him, and you hear him humming some songs from time to time.

On the darkness of your blindfold, all you could see was him, his face, his hair, his broad chest and back. You were going over the whole situation again, paying attention to the image your brain painted of him, hoping he'd look just as good when you saw him again.

Hoping your brain didn't lie to you, and he was actually all that.

✨🔥✨.

You didn't see the way to their place, but honestly you also don't remember exactly how you ended up here, on this specific situation. Standing on the entrance of his bedroom, watching him put your backpack down near his bed.

All you know is that you're here. And your people are somewhere on this same place.

And you need to keep them safe.

But they're fast to flee your mind when the man starts walking towards you. His gaze dark but soft at the same time. He pulls you softly by the forearm and closes the door behind you, standing at arm reach.

You feel like your heart is making cartwheels all over your body.

"I meant what I said, sugar. You'll all have to work here before I can let you go." You nod, looking up at him and doing your best to not bite your lip. "Tell me, what do you think you can do to make yourself useful around here?"

Now that he's closer, his smell finds it's way back to your nose, and you're pulled out of your brain immediately.

He looks bigger now so close to you, and you can't help but think about how he would feel like on top of you. His weight and his warmth pushing you into the mattress and... he's squinting his eyes, as if trying to read your thoughts, that damn smile on his lips again.

"Anything." You manage to say when you snap back. You're holding his stare the whole time. Not to appear tough or anything, you're just trying to memorize his face.

For later at night, when you're not with him.

"Anything can be many things, sweet thing." His hand comes to your hair, pulling it back and away from your face. An unexpected tenderness to his touch, and you feel like you could just melt right into his hand.

"Anything you want me to do. Anything to be useful for you." His eyes get darker and falter at your words, and you smile softly at his reaction.

His hand comes to your jacket, pulling it over your shoulders and off you, and part of you wished he didn't stop at it.

"Alright. Why don't you start by getting yourself clean and comfortable, then? You've had a stressful day, I'm guessing. Do you have any clean clothes?" he asks. "Uhum", you nod, "On my backpack."

"Bring it over to me." You walk towards it and pick the backpack up, handing it to him. He points you to the bathroom. "You'll find a clean towel there, I'll sort your clothes for you."

✨🔥✨.

You find him sitting on the edge of his bed, by a small pile of clothes when you come out, wrapped in his towel. "You understand I just can't let you go after your people pointed a gun at my men, don't you baby?" His voice is lower and more breathy than before, and God... You could listen to it all day.

All night.

"I do. I would do the same if it were the opposite. We'll cooperate and no one will get hurt." You say, looking into his eyes, watching him get up and walk towards you.

He's not used to people sustaining his gaze. All the huge and muscular men surrounding him too afraid to do it, and none of the women he's found along the way would dare to try.

But not you.

You like his eyes, you like that he doesn't drop his gaze, he doesn't hide his thoughts, and he's liking the same about you.

"Smart girl." He says, pulling the towel and carefully removing it from you.

He takes a step back and throws the towel on the bed, his gaze locked on your body. Analyzing your skin, your curves, your scars and marks. You notice a growing volume on his pants, and when you look back at his eyes, you find them already on yours, a cocky and so goddamn beautiful smile on his lips.

You just can't physically not respond his fucking smile.

"How about you start by grabbing that towel for me, baby? Don't want to sleep on a wet bed." He says, mentioning his bed for you. When you walk past him, he turns, taking a good look at your back, and you make sure to softly sway your hips for him.

You notice the towel is on the other side of the bed, and, instead of walking to the other side to grab it, you look at him over your shoulder, finding him on a stiff posture, eyes fixated on you, his fists tight by his sides.

You turn back and kneel on his bed, his teeth pressing onto one another so hard they could break, and his gaze weakening for a beat. You get fully on all fours and reach for the towel, making sure to lift your ass. A soft and wet, barely audible sound escapes from your pussy when you bend over and your folds get parted.

He grunts and you look back over your shoulder again, smiling at him. "Got it!" you say cheerfully, lifting the towel over your head and coming back, getting off his bed.

You roll the towel around yourself and look at him. "I noticed you have a lot of dirty clothes on your bathroom. Also I don't believe you cook a lot? Maybe I could help you around your house, you know. Make myself useful for you", you offer.

If you really had to stay over and work, you wouldn't mind if you got to spend the whole day on his house.

With him.

✨🔥✨.

The next day you went all over his house, cleaning what was dirty and planning what you could cook for him. It wasn't so bad after all. You just weren't as close to him as you thought you'd be, since he's spent the whole day away, keeping a few of his men surrounding his house all day to watch you.

You were cooking dinner when he arrived home. "Did you have a nice day, baby?" He asked, getting behind you and smelling your neck. His beard scratching you and sending a shiver down your spine, going all the way until pooling on your pussy.

"Just felt a bit lonely, but it was alright." He hums, running his hands on your hips. "A pretty girl like you should never feel lonely." You're wearing a dress he got you this morning, and he can feel that you're not wearing anything under it, groaning and lightly squeezing your hips.

You told him he had time to take a shower before dinner and he went to his bathroom.

When he comes back down, you're by the table; a few pots, a bottle of some alcohol he had, one cup and one plate on top of it.

"Where's yours?" He asks. His hair is wet and combed back, he looks clean and pretty, and you felt like somehow you were already used to him, to his presence. You spent your whole day thinking about him, counting the seconds to see him again, to feel your belly get all happy to see him.

"Oh, I, hum. I thought you'd like to eat alone." You say and he laughs, grabbing a plate and putting it across from his. "Been eating by myself for a while, angel. Want you to eat with me."

You sit down when he does and serve both of you, his eyes fixated on you while he pours both of you some of his drink. "Can I ask you something?" You ask when you start eating, and he responds without looking at you, only lifting his brows, as in 'go on'.

"Where is the rest of my people? What are they doing?" He doesn't get fazed by your question. "What are you doing here, peach?" He asks sipping on his drink.

You think for a beat. Was it a trick question?

"Honestly? Not sure. You said I'd help you, but I'm not sure with what." He looks at you. "Remember what you said? 'Anything'. Right?"

"Right. Anything. But I've only cleaned and cooked so far." He reads your face. His heavy eyes focused on yours.

"Is there anything else you wanna do, sugar?" He asks leaning back on his chair, chewing on his food. You foot looks for his legs, and he looks down when you touch his thigh.

"I thought you needed me for other things. Things more fun than what I did today." His breathing gets heavier, his brows lower and his voice somehow deeper.

"I can't, baby." Your own brows furrow.

"Why not?" You ask and he adjusts himself when your foot reach his crotch.

"I promised I'd let you go. If we do this, I won't ever wanna let you go. Then your people will come for my people, and I don't want to deal with that."

You sighed in an attempt to hold back a moan that still made its way out. You know it's wrong, God wants to believe you know it's wrong, but you can't help it.

You'd love to fucking see it. To see him fight over you, to see him do things for you. He must have done somethings before for his men to respect him so much, and you kinda hoped he'd do them because of you one day.

You press your foot on him.

"You don't think I'm worth it?" You tease, sweetening your voice and innocently looking at him, pouting your lips.

"That's exactly my problem, baby. I know you will be. That's why I can't." You almost feel bad for him, you can feel him hardening under your foot, but you can see he's doing his best not to give in.

"It's a paradox then. If I help you with it, you won't let me go. But if I don't help you, I'm not doing my job, so I can't leave either way. Guess we don't really have a choice here." His eyes find you again and he grins, grunting when you roll your foot over his cock.

He scratches the back of his head, removing your foot.

"Now, I don't want to force you to do anything, right, angel? That's not how I work around here." You nod, convincing him was easy enough.

"But you're gorgeous. And I haven't seen a pretty girl like you in ages, maybe never before. So if you really want to help, you can just be a good girl for me and let me look at you, alright?" He says, palming himself. "Anything to be useful." You repeat, and he smirks. "Alright. Just take your dress off and be pretty, huh? Shouldn't be hard for you."

You smile and get up. You see that he's stroking himself through his jeans and you bite your lower lip, unbuttoning your dress slowly, letting it fall down your shoulders before bending over to take if fully off.

His eyes are locked on your body and against all odds, you don't feel any shame.

Being on full display for him just makes you feral, like you could attack the poor man at any second.

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans, setting his cock free and sighing at the feeling.You have to clench your jaw so it doesn't drop.

He's big.

Big, thick and he looks so fucking deliciously heavy. His tip is glistening and swollen, leaking with his precum. You lick your lips at the sight, moving your chair away from the table to give him a better view and sitting back down.

He watches you and laughs. "You know, most girls would be all scared and shy on your position." He starts stroking himself, slow and deep, rolling his palm around his tip and going back down. He grunts while doing it, looking at you.

You scoot forward and lift your legs, bringing your knees close to your chest and spreading yourself for him. "But not you, right, baby? You liked my attention this whole time" He says, a hint of almost pain in his voice.

"I like how you look at me." You say with a smile, his eyes roaming your whole body, stopping at your pussy, already wet and glistening. "Oh, I can tell from here how much you like it, pretty."

You're already naked, already fucking soaked, and already on this situation. The man is already giving you his undivided attention, his dick is out, and the tension between you two is making it hard for you to breath. So why not fucking float along with his tide and enjoy yourself?

You mention to get up, but he shoots you a look. "No. You stay right there. Just sit and be pretty, remember?" He says in a stern tone hasn't used with you yet.

You pout, but sit back down.

"Let me see her again, baby. So pretty all wet for me." You get up and move your chair closer to him, his eyes following you like a hawk.

You sit down and spread yourself, gathering a bit of your leaking arousal and spreading it over his tip, earning a hiss from him, your soft hand a stark contrast to his rough one, distracting him for a beat. He lets you stroke him for a second, thrusting his hips slowly into your hand before snapping back and removing your hand.

He keeps stroking himself, eyes locked on your pussy, faltering when you start touching yourself, running your fingers through your folds and circling your clit, moaning softly.

He pushes his chair back for his hand to move more freely, his eyes fixating on yours. He looks good, so fucking good it makes you want to stay with him. To make sure he's okay, well taken care of, well fed.

Well fucked.

He drops his head back and you know you won't have a better chance of touching him again.

You drop to your knees, licking your lips while taking a better look at his cock. But you probably stare for too long, because after a while he groans, making you look up, finding his eyes on you.

"You're so fucking bad, angel." He pants.

"Uh um, I'll show you how good I can be for you." You say looking him in the eyes, your low and aroused voice surprising your own ears. He smiles and keeps stroking himself.

You look into his eyes and he puts his dick closer to your mouth. You lick his tip, just the tip of your tongue, just the tip of his cock, light enough to just taste him. You whine when he pulls away, pouting and furrowing you brows.

"You're gonna take what I give, huh? Tongue out." He says, that fucking stern tone back, just a little sweeter this time.

You do what he says and he slaps his tip on your tongue a few times, a wet sound filling your ears as your tongue numbing with his weight hitting it.

It was like he wanted you to do it, but he was doing his best to not let you. Sometimes he'd touch your tongue for long enough for you to lick him, or roll your tongue on him, and he'd furrow his brows in response, pulling away.

He grabs another bite of his food and moans when you roll your tongue around his tip, running his fingers through your hair. He didn't pull away this time.

"Shit. A man could get used to this really fast, angel." You smile and he grunts when you swallow his tip. "Fuck, baby, there you go, so good." He lets go of himself and his dick stays there, fully up and hard, his tip inside your mouth, all of his length pulsing for you.

He distracts you again, but eventually you grab him and notice how heavy he is — just like you knew he'd be —, so heavy you moan when you hold him. He runs his fingers through your hair, pulling on it. "C'mon, baby. Treat it real nice."

"You know I will."

You lick his tip, once again rolling your tongue around it. Then you lick underneath his tip, trying to touch every little corner of him with your tongue. You lift his dick and lick it from the base up, wetting your tongue as you go, keeping it spread and watching him as his eyes close shut.

You suck his tip into your mouth, sucking on it for a bit, enjoying the soft and wet texture on your tongue, moaning and moving your hips, looking for something to relieve the burn you felt between your legs.

You take more of him in, drooling on his length, slowly swallowing him. You do it carefully, but passionately, sucking hard and squeezing what you couldn't yet fit in your mouth with your hand.

His grunts and moans serving as fuel to you as you took him all the way, opening your throat to accommodate him and swallowing around his length, his fingers tightening their firm grip on your hair.

"Fuck, right there, wanna — grunt — be right there for a bit." He holds you in place, and you do your best to hold your gags back, but some pass and he groans when your throat convulses around him.

"So good, baby. So pretty all full of me like this." He says, and you manage to look up, finding his eyes hooded and filled with lust.

You moan around him and he lets you go, pulling out all the way back to his tip, taking a second to breath while you suck around it again, hard while you stroke him, turning your wrist as you go up and down, moaning at how his skin moves under your hand, at how soft his skin is, and how hard he is.

After a while you go back, swallowing him all the way and coming all the way to his tip, rolling your tongue around it and earning a groan from him. He holds you by your hair, keeping your head high as he starts thrusting inside your mouth. Slow and careful at first, but hard and rough once he finds less resistance.

Your hands go to his stomach and chest, to help you support yourself. You run them over his belly, indulging in how big and strong he is, in how you can feel his muscles flex to fuck your mouth.

"You don't let anyone else do this to you, you hear me? This mouth is mine, only I can be inside it, only I can have fun with it."

You moan in agreement. You don't want anyone else, you don't think anyone else will even look appealing to you anymore. He's burned himself as your favorite even before he looked at you, as soon as he walked out of that car, as soon as you landed eyes on him.

"Don't let any boys do this to you after you leave, baby. Would hate to know you had someone do this to you besides me. Only I can fucking use your pretty face like this."

You moan again, felling your arousal leak from your pussy. He stops and you sit back on the floor, recovering your breath for a second. He leans forward, fixing your sweaty hair and kissing your forehead, stroking himself once again.

You open your legs, and he looks at it. "Fuck, so fucking wet, baby." He says, panting.

"All ready for you." You say, tangling your words with a moan.

"All fucking ready for me, bet you feel so good. Would squeeze me so fucking nice, baby, would get fucking lost inside you, wouldn't wanna leave anymore."

You giggle, "Would be so happy being all full with you all the time." He smirks.

"Get back here, baby, this mouth making me happy enough for now." You do so, getting up with your mouth already open and your tongue already out, like you're starving and he's the best looking meal you've ever seen. When you're at his reach his hand comes back to your hair, guiding you to his dick.

You take him all the way, deep, hard and fast, properly fucking him with your mouth. His grip on your hair both forces you down on him and helps you stay steady while you focused only on making him cum.

"You're just trying to help your people, huh?" he laughs when you pull away, catching your breath. "Anything for them, yeah. Only thing on my mind right now." you respond his laugh.

"Oh, I know of better things for you to keep in your mind, pretty." he says in a sigh when you roll your tongue around his tip again.

You keep going, hard and deep, and soon enough — too soon, almost. You could keep going all day long — you feel him start to twitch inside your mouth, his chest losing its rhythm and his grunts getting louder.

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck him nice and hard, pumping him deep and fast with both your hands, twisting your wrists to increase the friction for him and looking into his eyes.

"Fuck — shit. Gonna, fucking — grunts —cum, baby. You're gonna take it for me? Huh?" He asks, and you smile, nodding and furrowing your brows when you taste him flooding your mouth. His hand pulling on your hair as he grunts and groans loudly, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth.

You keep sucking him for a while, your mouth full of his spend when he pulls your hair. "That's it, baby, thank you. Too fucking good for me." He says and you pull away, swallowing his cum and sitting back to breath a little. His hand once again comes to your hair and pushes it back, away from your sweaty forehead.

You get up and grab your plate, putting it on the fridge. "You're not gonna finish your food, baby?" He asks, finishing his pants, watching you pick up your dress.

"Already full, thank you." You say as you go upstairs, naked, making sure to sway your hips for him.

Now this should be more fun than just playing housewife.

✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥

✨🔥 Coming up: You understand why his people respect fear him so much, but it's a good thing if it's used to protect you. Right?

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Hope you liked it, stay tuned for the next part ���

Part two

[biwritesfics]

Broken Halos

An 18+ Tattoo Artist Steve story

Steve Rogers x Fem!reader 1k words

No use of y/n, the reader’s nickname is Angel.

This bit is pretty PG just a bit of language

*******************✩*******************

I fidget with my bike lock staring apprehensively at the tattoo and Piercing shop. Shield’s Tattoos and piercings was the store I had walked into on my eighteenth birthday clutching my ID and a 50 dollar bill. That’s when I met Nat. She pierced my ears and chatted with me over sodas. I came to her for the next five, filling my ears top to bottom on both sides. She had been begging me to get a tattoo but Nat wasn’t an artist and she was the only person I let stick needles in my body, well until now.

I had a meeting with Nat’s friend Steve to talk about a tattoo. He was fresh off army service give or take about a month he spent soul searching on an oil rig in the artic. Girls have gap years in Europe. I guess burly men have that. Nat had sung his praises and reassured me a million times that he was great but here I was standing outside the shop quaking like a leaf. They could probably see me so my fear of looking like an idiot outweighed my fear of strange men and prolonged exposure to needles.

The bell above the door rings as I enter. The shop smells like incense and cleaning solution, an aggressive combination that I had somehow grown to love. Nat turns the corner and hurries to wrap me in a warm hug. “God I can't believe you actually came! Your latest has healed nicely!” She refers to the small stud on my nose. I squeezed her tightly. “Yeah, the swelling went down in no time.”

“You must be Angel.” The deep voice is attached to a gorgeous statue of a man. He has baby blues that would make just about any woman North of the Mississippi weak in the knees. I blush before speaking. “It’s not my name but it's what everyone calls me. You must be Steve?” He nods and grins. That'd be me, sweetheart, wanna come back and take a look at some sketches I did?”

He escorts me to the back with a big hand resting between my shoulder blades, gently guiding me. “So I talked to Nat a bit and read the notes you sent so I did a few sketches. Some are more simple than others, just look and see what you like and I can make tweaks.” He slides a sketchbook across the table as I sit down. I flip through it gently admiring the sketches. There were flowers, books, even a bicycle but none of those caught my eye. It was the very last sketch that I knew was it.

“It’s a-“ “Seraphim” I finished, interrupting him in my excitement. “Sorry,” I apologize, embarrassed that I just blurted it out. “No no it’s okay I'm just happy you recognized what it was,” Steve reassures me. “It’s gorgeous, what placement do you think would be best?” I trace my fingers over the lines utterly in love with the image. “It’d make a pretty awesome back piece. I could really let it take up the room it deserves but it would take more than one appointment.” He says this hesitantly as if not wanting to force me into a commitment.

“I don't mind if you don't?” I tell him, seeing his face would be a bonus to go along with the tattoo. It was like a free art viewing just being in his presence. “Sounds like we've got a deal Angel.” His hand is warm when I shake it. “Clint will talk about billing later but I'm not worried about it. We can start today if you'd like? I just have to get a stencil going.” I nod happily. “That sounds good, thank you Steve.” “Anytime sweetheart”

I end up sitting/laying on the tattoo chair, my unclasped bra being the only thing reserving my dignity. Steve gently applies the stencil to my back. “Alright Angel this isn't gonna be horrible but it ain't gonna be pleasant either so let me know if you need a break. I'm sure you'll do good.” His Brooklynn accent comes out a bit thicker than usual. “Alright” I prepare myself for the buzzing and the pain but once the needle touches my skin it’s actually not the worst.

“So you from around here Sweetheart?” I laugh but try and keep it restrained because of the needle on my back. “No, I'm from a tiny town in Vermont up near Canada. I ran to New York the moment I turned 18. How about you? Brooklyn right? “Born and bred a couple blocks from here. Vermont has the leaves thing right?” I chuckle. “Yeah, leaf peeping when all the tourists come in. My Dad always hated it, he said if they were coming to see God’s handiwork they could bother to come into God’s house. He's a priest so..”

Steve sucks air in through his teeth. “I understand must've been tough with a priest as your old man.” “You could definitely say that. He was more into God’s wrath than his love and forgiveness,” My voice comes out smaller and sadder than I mean it to. Steve’s voice darkens. “I’d like to show him some of my wrath” It was aggressive but it warmed my heart. “I think I'd like to see that,” I laugh. “Just say the word doll, can’t waste all this military training just cause I'm discharged.

“Special Forces right?” I can't see but I think he nods. “105th infantry then special forces. We were up in all the Europe Russia shit before it exploded up there.” “Thank you, really” “Eh just doin my part to fix the shitty system Doll. I think we're at a good stopping point. I'll get you all cleaned up here.” He sanitizers the area again and leaves me to get dressed. I throw my top back on but before I look at the progress on my back. It's gorgeous.

When I walk out Steve is at the front desk with Clint. “Hey Angel, I see Nat finally convinced you to get tatted.” I smile. “Yep she wore me down, how are Laura and the kids?” “Good, the boys are growing like weeds. Lila's getting college mail. She’s sixteen I feel like I’ll blink and she’ll be 21” I smile sympathetically. “Well the only one that’s turning 21 is Angellll!” Kate Clint’s niece singsongs walking out from the back carrying a box of cleaning supplies.

I groan. “You guys promised not to make a big deal of it.” Steve raises an eyebrow. Nat who was sitting silently in the corner grins. “Angel likes to think that her birthday doesn’t deserve a big fuss but if it’s up to anyone at this shop it’s gonna be a big deal and it’s gonna be on Saturday.” I glare at Nat. “You said just drinks.” She walks over, putting her arm around me. “I said there’d be drinks not that’d it be just drinks” I sigh and turn to Steve. “Well then if you’d like to join the madness you’re invited” “It’s a date” he replies.

[mschimdt]

unbelievable

recom!quaritch +recom!mansk x recom!reader

oneshot

very poorly written, dk how many words so bare w me

1579 words

you were at recom training with wuaritch and the others, you needed the training because your avatar bodies are still pretty weak and in need of excersise and muscle.

the training was around 3 hours long which meant theres about 40 minutes left you were all running around the court like maniacs, the last part of the training was basketball because its a really good sport for your physicall health

quaritch put us in 2 teams so we can play basketball against eachother, my team consisted of z dog, mansk, prager , and lyle and the other team had walker, lopez, ja, and quaritch, you were surprised to see that he joined on the game because he never usually participates when hes training you and the others, he usually trains himself at the gym

the game finished after you scraped your knee just 4 minutes into the match, no one complained because none of them wanted to play anyways, so they just left.

you started walking towards the medical clinic to clean the scrape because you cant risk an infection because this body costs 5 billion dollars

the human nurses run away terrified for some reason, you order one to come amd help and she does come but shes shaking, she stood there for a few minutes staring at the floor and shaking and you were getting pretty tired of this so you finally spoke up to the little human "can you clean this up?" you were met with silence until you heard her speak "y-yeah sorry i zoned o-out" she walks over to the shelves and grabs some iodine aswell as cotton pads and a big bandaid, she cleans your knee and wraps it with the bandaid "thanks" you say and she looks up and nods

you stand up and leave and head to the cafeteria because you needed to eat since you havent eaten for 4 hours and your naavi body isnt like your human one, you sit down on the recoms table, the only spot being between mansk and quaritch, so you had to take it

you brought your food and sat next to the big blue men,it was arpund 4 pm now and you wanted to finish your food to take a nap, you rarely get oppurtunities to take naps these days because of the missions you have

mansk finished his food, unintentionaly putting his hand on your thigh, he didnt notice his hand was on your thigh, or maybe he did?

he was talking to lyle while his hand was under the table rubbing your thigh, so he did notice, he did it on purpose

quaritch then saw what was happening under the table and he decided to put his hand on your other thighx it wasnt unusual that quaritch does these things but it was the first time mansk did something like this

i couldny help the heat between my legs, soon enough i could smell myself and im pretty sure the others smelt me too, it was embarassing being horny whike with your friend

you noticed their noses twitching which means they must have smelled you, you devided that it was enough and that you were going to leave before anything embarassing happened

youmoved your thighs from under their hands and turned your chwir around and stood up

you started walking away until you heard quaritch speak,"where ya goin'?" you let out a nervous chuckle "o-oh um i need to go do a few things" quaritch stood up " im coming with ya'" you were getting even more nervous when you were walking around bridgehead trying to find something to do because you didnt want to take quaritch to your room,

"you know i can smell you right?" quaritch spoke and laughed after, blush appearing on your face you let out a inaudible "oh" "if you want me to help you youve got to speak up sweetheart, just say you want me to help and ill help you" quaritvh said still following you around bridgehead, you started walking towards your room and as your hand hut the doorknob to open it you said " please help me " "sure thing sweetheart"

you locked the door, the moment it clicked you were lifted up and thrown onto your bed, quaritch hovered over you and kissed your cheek, but something had to ruin the moment

there was a knocking at the door, you got up and opened it while quaritch was laying on your bed, it was mansk "uhmm im looking for the colonel i saw him heading in here, lyle wants to speak to him" quaritch got off the bed and headed to the door "well it can wait, tell lyle to wait" "whyre you in y/ns room, anyway colonel" quaritch looked mad while he spoke to mansk "long story, its none of your buisness unless you want to join" wuaritch let a small smirk onto his face

"join what? oh i see" mansk walked inside with a devilish smirk slapped across his face, similar to quaritchs he walked inside quickly grabbing you and throwijg you onto your bed once again, quaritch walked over and started kissing your neck while mansk attached his lips to yours soon turning into a sloppy makeout session while quaritch was marking you all over, you felt a tug at your top, you pulled away from mansk and sat up to pull your top off your head, you werent wearing anything under lucky for them, mansk moved to your necj and started adding his own marks to your bruised neck

both the men quickly followed and took their tanktops off revealing their defined bodys, you would have never guessed these meb were in their 40s and 50s as humans if you were never told, they looked majestic and you couldnt deny it

mansk quickly took quaritch's place, running his hands all over you while having a heated makeout session, quaritch was busy unbuckling your belt, one he finally unbuckled it, he pulled your pants down, you were wearing a red pair of panties

quaritch kissed inbetween your legs while shuffling to get his own pants off, mansk pulled away and worked on getting your shirt over your head

finally your shirt was off, you wrrent wearing a bra so your tits were on full display, mansk took no time getting to work sucking and massaging your delicate nipples, quaritch on the other hand was spreading your legs open grinding his clothed erection against your throbbing cunt

you finally had enough, you needed one of them inside you right now, you sat up slightly and pulled your red panties off, quaritch noticed your movements and pulled his boxers off, his hard on springing out of his pants

it was huge you didnt know if it would even fit, he was large even for a naavi man, mansk followed and noe you were all naked, mansk pulled away when he felt quaritch shuffling you onto your stomache pulling you into a doggy style position, mansk stood infront of you while wuaritch was behind you

mansk leaned down and kissed your lips "think you can take it?" he said in a worried tone, you nodded, quaritch was grinding his erection into your flaps, he finally held his cock inorder to position it with your tight cunt, he knew you could take it

mansk on the other hand had his tip on your lips, waiting patiently for you to take him, you opened your mouth and let mansk in, you slowly tried to take his entire cock, you ended up only being able to take half of it, he didnt mind

suddenly quaritch entered you, without a warning, once he was balls deep he stopped, mansk was fucking your face and quaritch was stroking your hair waiting for you to give him a sign that he could move

you pushed bacjk ahainst his dick and he took that as a sign to start moving, he started off slow, after a few seconds he couldnt take it anymore, he started fucking your throbbing stretched cunt has hard as he could

you were getting fucked from both sides and you wouldnt complain, you moaned against mansks dick, mansk let out whimpers while quaritch grunted

your legs were starting to shake and you were getting close, the other men clearly close to their orgasm too, their thrusts were getting sloppy and unirganised

"oh shit i-im gonna cum" quaritch said followed by a grunt, "m-me too" mansk said trying to not whimper as much because it wasnt very man like

you came first, you vame onto quaritchs cock, he was still going and it was over simulating you, quaritch finally came and manssk followed, you swallowed mansks cum, quaritch pulled out, a thin string of white liquud connecting his cock sith your hole

he saw his fluid dripping out of you and he stucj to fingers in your hole pushing the liquid back in

your hands gave away and you plotted onto the bed, quaritch layed to your right and mansk to your left, you could feel mansj looking for the blanket, once he finally found it he pulled it over the three of you kissing your forehead, quaritch did the same after him

you were sandwitchrd inbetween 2 huge blue men and you didnt mind, you quite liked it, you knew you were going to have a limp the next morning but you couldnt care less

[mondaychildsworld]

I know the end

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Part Six / ?

Rating: E

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter summary: As you're captured, locked up and get severely hurt, Joel and Ellie is closing in on your tracks. There's thin line between life and death, but somehow the unimaginable happens and you can soon put this behind you. (happy end I promise)

Warnings: This is my worst chapter I've written. So if you don't vibe with any kind of violence, torture, blood and being treated very badly this is you que to skip this chapter. TW: violence, threats, getting burnt, blood, slight insinuation of SA (we're good tho), just straight up torture.

A/N: I'M SO SORRY for this chapter. I feel HORRIBLE for putting my character through this much pain. But she will be ok. It will be ok in the end. I would never end this story on a bad note. But this world is not a nice place to live in either, so it would be hard to write a dystopian story with just fluff and happiness because that's not realistic. But I promiiiiiise you some feelings and smut in the next one very soon to make it up to you. Like... in a couple of days 🤭

And here’s my tiny taglist: @boofy1998 @orcasoul

December 5th, 2023

It’s cold. And hard. Your fingertips trace the surface you’re laying on before you open your eyes. When there’s a big snort in the distance. The sound is not human. You open your eyes in panic. The first thing you see is the ceiling. You quickly sit up and look around. You’re in a stable. 

You stand and peek through the bars surrounding the top part of the stall. Opposite of you are kind eyes and the soft nose of a horse. You relax. 

“Hi there buddy.” you say and you try to open the stall door. Locked. “We’re both locked up in here I guess?”

The horse keeps staring at you, their new neighbor. On the door to his stall is a nameplate, someone had carved “Tucker” in the wood. After greeting your companion and having a look around your stall you try to kick the door open, to see if you can break the lock. 

You sigh when the lock doesn’t give up and start circling around the small room. You got captured, hit in the head and locked up. Great. Now you need to figure out how to get the hell out of here. 

The horse suddenly gives off a fussy neigh. He draws his ears back at the exact moment a door down the hallway bursts open. You curl up in the corner of the stall and hope that they’re not here for you. You hear footsteps approaching and stop right outside your stall.

“Well, well, well…” you hear the man’s voice say. “Look who’s awake.”

You hear a laugh. There must be two men. You nervously glance up and see two faces outside of the metallic bars. You recognize them from before.

“I told you I didn’t want to disturb you” you try, but you can see on their faces that they won’t accept your weak attempts of talking your way out of this. 

“I didn’t want to disturb you” the guy to the left, the one with a dark blue beanie mimics you. He clearly wants to make fun of you and the other one laughs. 

“Tell us why the fuck you’re out here sneaking up on us and where your group of people are.”

“I’m alone, I don’t have anyone.” you try. It is true. You were alone. But it still feels like you’re lying. 

“Yeah, no one’s gonna believe that.” the one to the right tells you. He was the one to slam the butt of the rifle in your head. He’s blonde and has a long beard. “You better give us better answers or you’ll soon regret not cooperating with us.”

“I’m telling you the truth, I got here alone.”

“Bullshit.”

“A pretty girl like you wouldn’t make it out there all by yourself.”

You frown and feel nauseous at the fact that he called you that, it certainly was not meant as a compliment.

“Alright, I’m gonna tell you…” you start, and you do gain their attention because they’re suddenly listening carefully to what you have to say. “To… go fuck yourselves.”

Their hopeful expression falters. The guy with the beanie kicks the wooden door of the stall. You’re kind of happy that you got them like that, but you’re scared at the same time. You try your best not to show it.

“If you wanna play with us, pretty girl, let’s play.” the bearded man says and they leave the stable. 

You still hear them talking outside for a while. There’s a crackling noise, footsteps, and a clunking noise of metal. You hug your legs even tighter to your chest. You can’t help but shake, from the cold or from fear, you can’t tell. 

When you hear the men walking down the hallway of the stable again it’s like you can sense that something's wrong. It’s something in the breeze of winter air flowing inside of the building, like it’s trying to warn you. A chill goes down your spine. 

There’s more men this time. The one from before, the guy with the blue beanie unlocks your stall and walks inside. He’s closely followed by two other men you don’t immediately recognise. They roughly tug you away from your safe corner and pin you to the ground. 

You try to fight yourself free but they’re three, and strong. Way stronger than you. 

“Pretty girl, are you cold?” the guy with the blonde beard appears by the stall door. 

“Fuck you!” you yell at him and squirm. You caught yourself thinking if this is what you think is about to happen you’d rather be dead but when you see the item in your hand, and you’re filled with an even bigger fear. 

When he takes a step into the stall you see the glowing iron in his hand. It’s an old forging tool, all bent and broken, but glowing hot. 

“You have a choice, tell me the truth about why you were sneaking around our farm or… you’ll get a little bit hot.” he smirks down at you. 

“I was j-just passing b-by.” you cry out. “I was just l-looking for a hiding s-spot for the night.” 

You’re hyperventilating by now. The tears are streaming down your face. 

“Hiding from what, sweet thing?” he asks again. 

You don’t know what to answer. You didn’t hide from anything specific. Maybe Joel and Ellie, maybe from raiders and infected, but maybe just as much from yourself. From whatever future you had. By the looks of it now, that future seemed incredibly short. 

“N-nothing.” you sob. 

”Not the right answer!” he yells at you and nods towards one of his men. He reached over you and tore your shirt open. The buttons rip off and you hear them fall to the ground.

“Let’s see how pretty you are after this” the blonde man says and leans down towards you, with the glowing iron in hand. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for what is about to come.

Afterwards, they had left you all alone on the ground with burn marks covering your upper body. You were still in shock. You did your best not to look, but cried while you tried to button up your shirt again. It was ruined. You were ruined. It was all about survival now. 

As soon as you gained some sort of normal awareness back you started planning your escape. By sunrise you were ready. You were hurting too much to sleep anyway.

There was a small window at the top of the wall, close to the ceiling. The metallic bars were too high to climb and squeeze over, but you could maybe fit through the window.

Your problem was to get yourself up there. But you had time to think and look around. There was a bridle on a hook on the door to the horse’s stall, and a broom standing close to yours. If you could reach the broom, you might be able to reach the bridle, throw it up to the old handle on the window, drag yourself up and push the window out. After that you’d get back inside, take Tucker and leave on horseback. 

You set your plan to work and you were determined to get out of this hell hole. The pain was almost unbearable, as you had to put your arm between the bars, shove yourself closer and lean all your weight onto your upper body to reach the broom. 

You gasped loudly as your fingers brushed the broomstick. The movement hurt too much. You had to pause and recollect yourself a couple of times before you successfully reached the broom.

“Yes!” you mumbled to yourself. 

A couple of minutes of trying to wind down and you were ready. You stuck the broom out from your stall, holding the brush part. Tucker jerked back when you reached the broom towards his stall. He nervously stamped around and let out a dull neigh. 

“Sssh sweet boy.” you hushed the horse. “Don’t you worry Tucker, I’m getting you out of here.”

You catched the bridle with the broomstick and sighed in relief. Tucker neighed once more, louder this time. You flinched and hushed him again. You don’t want to get caught, so you’d need to hurry. 

You threw the bridle up high towards the knob at the window frame. You had to throw it a few times before it stuck. 

You took the brindle and put your foot inside of the loop. After a deep breath you braced yourself and pushed yourself up. There was a shooting pain in your whole body from the strain of the movement. 

Just as you pushed the window open Tucker neighed once more and reared. 

“No, no, no, Tucker!” You try to calm him. 

Meanwhile you had your leg swung up and almost outside of the window, the door bursts open and you hear rushed steps. You hurriedly try to crawl out from the window.

“She’s escaping!” someone yells. 

A couple of seconds later, when you’re halfway through the window someone takes a forceful grip on your pants and shoves you back down on the floor. Your ankle is stuck in the bridle. You feel your foot twist and there’s a sudden pain in your ankle. As you hit the floor with your head first there's also a sharp pain in your jaw. It makes you dizzy. 

A painful gasp escapes from your mouth and when you look up, the stall is filled with men once again. You don’t really see who is who, it’s more like dark shadows towering over you. But when your eyes can focus you see one thing, the blonde beard that belongs to the man who burned you. 

“If you only cooperated from the beginning you could’ve had a nice life you know.”

He continues. You spit blood. 

“It’s too late now. If you were a good girl I might’ve decided to keep you.” he says and laughs in your face. “But now, no man alive would even want to touch you with a ten foot pole, not that you’ll leave this stable alive anyway.”

“Mmh…” You sigh, and try again. “Mmhf, f-fuck you.”

“You fucking whore.” He said furiously. That’s the last thing you hear until you feel the harsh pain of a kick in your stomach. Right at your burns. You can almost recall thinking, this is the end, as you once again drift off to unconsciousness. 

“She can’t have gotten too far on foot, right?” Ellie asks. Joel just hums in response. He hasn’t been feeling up to be chatty with Ellie since you left. There is just a dreary cloud hanging over him these last couple of days.

“Why did she leave, anyway?” Ellie asks again. He decides not to respond at all. “Or like, would you guess why?”

He sighs.

“I just hoped she would’ve said goodbye.” she says and looks out through the car window.

“Me too kid.” he mutters.

When he noticed that you had left he had packed up all the things in the truck and went out to look for you. Ellie had found traces in the snow, and they guessed you followed the road up north. So they stopped every few times to check abandoned buildings for any sign of you. 

They figured you didn’t stay too far off from the road, because they did find evidence of someone staying in sheds, caves in the forest or other buildings they found along the way. You had hidden the tracks after yourself pretty well. But Joel was experienced. He didn’t know much about your time before the QZ, but he had lived out there as a raider. So he did know a thing or two.

And you definitely had left a thing or two behind. You were good, he had to admit. But there were remains of a fire you didn’t have time to put out, for whatever reason. In one of the buildings he found an empty can of food you had brought with you. He knew, because the can wasn’t covered by dust and he was the one who found that specific brand the last time they stocked up. 

It was getting late, and it was time for their last stop for the day. He parked the car close to the road, but well hidden just in case anyone drove by. They hadn’t met even one person or infected for a long time, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“Cabin over there?” Ellie points it out through the trees and raises her eyebrows at him. He just nods and they start walking towards the little timber building.

Someone definitely had been there and left in a hurry. There’s signs of a fire someone tried to put out, very sloppily. As they quickly had to get up and leave. Beside the fire lies the insides of a small animal, rabbit, he guesses. 

He has a bad feeling about this, but enters the cabin anyway, You could be inside of there, hiding. He swings the door open, rifle ready to shoot anyone who isn’t you. But it’s quiet and still. The room is a big mess, practically trashed. He lowers the gun and sighs. Fuck. He hopes this trouble isn’t your trouble, in that case the hope of finding you okay just drastically declined. 

“Woah, look at this Joel!” Ellie exclaims from above. He confusedly looks around and finds her on the edge of a loft. He completely missed it. And he completely missed her climbing up there.

“Who told you to go up there?” he snaps at her.

“It’s her,” she just says and lifts her hand up. She holds a blue book. “She was here.”

She tosses the book down to Joel, and he catches it. Quickly he flips through the pages. It’s a notebook. A diary, dated from before the outbreak. Soon he reaches the last written page, dated to this year. He starts to read.

You had signed off with your name. This was proof. You had been in this very cabin, very recently. You can’t be too far away now.

December 6th, 2023

Maybe this is what it’s like to be dead. You always thought life after death would be like floating on a warm, soft cloud. Content. Calm. Together with your loved ones that you lost. With Julie. But this is cold, and hard. Your face feels wrong. Swollen. Misplaced. So maybe you weren’t dead just yet?

Your eyes flutter open and you see the ceiling. The same damn ceiling you saw last time. 

There’s a disappointed knot forming in your stomach. You were severely beaten and went unconscious once again. The concept of time is long lost. It’s hard, not having the energy or will to move your body. 

After some time of drifting in and out of consciousness, you can’t tell for how long, there’s a sound of light footsteps on the other side of the wall. Right outside, the snow crunches slowly. Is this real or a hallucination? Once again, you can’t tell. All you can do is lay in your own pool of blood and wait for the end. Every muscle in your body hurts.

When Tucker lets out a curious snort, you slightly open your eyes. If you convinced yourself you might be alive before, this definitely makes you consider the opposite. There’s a face peeking through the metal bars, a small face belonging to a girl. 

“Ellie?” you mumble and feel the world spinning.

“Oh my…” she looks outright shocked. 

“Are you in heaven?” you quietly ask her. Maybe, just maybe, some sort of higher power sent her here to guide you? So you soon could be reunited with Julie, floating on the softest clouds there could ever be. You don’t believe in god, you never did, but you don’t know how to explain what’s happening to you any other way. 

Ellie’s face disappears for a minute or two, but you can hear her. You just blink up at the ceiling trying the grasp what the fuck is happening right now. The door slides open and Ellie is quickly by your side. She drops the heavy padlock to the floor. 

“Stay with me.” she shakes you carefully. You open your eyes even more and try your best to look directly at her. “Let’s get out of here.”

She carefully pulls you up to your feet, quickly slides and arm around your waist and starts walking. You limp. As you leave the stall you glance back, and see a pool of blood on the floor and immediately feel nauseous. 

When the both of you are outside you’re blinded by the sharp light. The white snow burns in your eyes. A couple of steps later you find Joel in the hallway of the main building. The door is open and you see him holding a man down to the floor. There’s something wrong with your vision, it’s doubled and it’s hard to focus. There’s blotches of red in the snow, on the floor, on his hands. 

“Where is she!!!” he yells a few inches away from the man's face as he shakes the guy beneath him. He holds the man’s collar with an iron fist. The whole world spins around, you’re dizzy, but you know what you see. It’s him, it’s Joel. 

Ellie shouts after him but he doesn’t hear her immediately. He punches the man in the face a few times before he jerks his head up and locks eyes with you. He leaves the man on the floor and rushes up to you. He pulls you in tightly, but you don’t have the energy to respond to his embrace. Your entire body is limp. There’s no strength left.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” He mumbles as he breaks away for the embrace to look you over. Your shirt is ripped open in some places, burn marks peeking through the tears of fabric. Your face… however it did look like now -  probably just as horrible as it felt.

You try to speak, but your brain and your tongue aren't cooperating. You try to answer him, but all you get out of your mouth is an incoherent mumble. He looks back down with worried eyes, looking straight into yours. You try to hold his gaze but it’s impossible. 

It feels like someone dims the sun down, like the sun is an old light bulb that flickers out into darkness. You’re exhausted. There’s arms firmly grabbing you, holding you up. You blink a few times and feel that you’re being lifted up as you’re drifting off into the quiet darkness. 

December 8th, 2023

When you wake up you’re surprised you find yourself in a bed, and not on the cold floor of the stable. You’re covered with blankets, not by dirt in the pool of your own blood. You smack your mouth a couple of times. It’s still dry. 

“He-hello?” you manage so get out. The room is dark. You find a source of light, and try to focus your eyes. The light comes from a gap in the door. 

You slowly sit up a bit so you’re leaning back your weight on your elbows. You clear your throat.

“Hello?” you croak, a little bit louder this time. 

You hear footsteps right outside. The door creaks open and you see the silhouette of a girl. You blink a few times and fall back into the pillow. It’s Ellie.

“Hi, you’re awake?” she asks. 

“Mhm, could you…” you need to pause to cough. “Water, please.”

“Sure, of course.” she leaves the room and soon comes back with a bottle of water. She screws the cap open and helps you take a sip. 

Water has never tasted this good. Ellie sits down on the edge of the bed and helps you dry off the drop of water that escaped down your chin. 

”Sorry.” you mumble. ”What time is it?”

“I don’t know, late.” she just looks at you, like you’re fragile. 

“Where… where are we?” the last memory you have is a blurry mix of snow, blood covered knuckles and large arms carrying you away from the stable. “Where’s Joel?”

“He’s out, he keeps guard of the house. We’re safe but you know, he’s stubborn like that.” she nods and you roll your eyes. You know. 

“We’re at this house, I think this place is called Cora. I found it on the map.” she presses her lips together before she continues. “It’s late, you should sleep.”

You don���t know where Cora is, and you don’t get the chance to ask. She puts the bottle down on the little nightstand next to the bed. She leaves the room and shuts the door, but leaves a small gap. 

“I’m right outside, just tell me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

You can’t sleep. You lay there bright awake until the sun comes up. If you could, you’d heave your legs over the bed, put on your shoes and sneak right past Ellie and find Joel. But your body hurts too much, so you stay. 

It feels weird being safely tucked in on a real bed. Guarded by the people you left. You’re safe, out of harm’s reach. There’s a pang of guilt in your chest. You don’t deserve this. You really thought that stall in the stable would be the last thing you’d see. That you’d soon be reunited with Julie when you saw the pool of your own blood grow beneath you. You tear up a bit at the thought. This wasn’t how it was going to end. You have mixed feelings about it all. 

After a few sleepless hours on your own you hear mumbling on the other side of the door. After a minute or two, Ellie enters the room. She brought soup. 

“Oh wow, this is way too fancy for me.” you joke a bit and heave yourself up to a sitting position in the bed. You try to accept the tin can but Ellie insists on helping you eat. Classic chicken noodle soup. It tastes delicious. 

“This is all we have for today,” she says apologetically. “Sorry… you must be hungry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” you say and while you give her half a smile someone leans their shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed. You look up and see Joel. You stiffen a bit and your eyes lock with his. 

“Hi” you say, voice raspy. 

“Hi” he sighs back, worriedly. 

There’s silence for a couple of seconds. There’s so much tension in the air that Ellie has to sense that something must be wrong if you two stay quiet for longer. So you’re the one to speak up, when he doesn’t. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay” you tell him, you don’t know who you’re trying to convince. Joel or yourself. He’s not convinced, the worried look stays on his face.

“Sure” he looks at you straight faced. He doesn’t believe a word you say. You see it in the way his brows furrow and that line between them becomes even more visible. So you opt for a different take.

“How did you know I was there?” you ask. Ellie is quick to answer, and explains that they traced your tracks in the snow and found some of your belongings scattered in the forest. They knew no animal or infected could be behind all that. 

“I told her to stay back but apparently someone doesn’t listen to orders.” He shoots Ellie an accusing glare. He’s not entirely happy with her. 

“Will you please remind me again, who found her?” Ellie argues back. “Who got her out? Without causing any trouble?”

She was right. She was the one who picked the lock and quietly got you out while Joel was outside creating chaos. But Joel doesn’t seem to be too impressed with Ellie’s rescue mission.

“Hey, what if you were hurt?” he’s visibly upset. “What would I tell Marlene then? Oh, yeah, ‘that girl you told me to drag over half the country got herself killed’?”

Ellie gives him a glare and a second later, storms out muttering something you can’t hear. 

“Not too far!” Joel yells after her. He gets an annoyed ‘I know’ back. 

So you’re back to silence. You sit in your bed, fiddling with the hem of the blanket, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. After a minute of Joel just standing there looking at you worriedly, he finally sits down on the bed next to your legs. 

“Did you kill them?” you ask after a while and nervously look up at him. He keeps his gaze down towards the floor. 

He doesn’t answer straight away. He hesitates for a couple of seconds before he clears his throat and finally speaks to you. 

“That’s not important.”

“Did you or did you not?”

“I did.” He's now facing you, instead of studying the flecks of dirt on his shoes. “I don’t know about them all, but I would be surprised if more than one or two got out of there in one piece.”

“I’m sorry if that bothers you.” he adds after a couple of seconds of silence. 

“It doesn’t.” you answer quickly. You think for a second and then add, “I’m glad.”

He just looks at you, a bit oddly and squints a bit. Like he doesn’t believe you. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” he just says calmly, back to his usual stone face expression and gets up from the bed and leaves the room.When he comes back he has brought some warm water and a cloth. He cleans your burns and dabs your swollen face with the damp cloth. The piece of fabric is stained red. You flinch at every touch. But you will be okay.

[msfbgraves]

[[Doing that trick with bringing in refreshments during a meeting and brushing up against him.]] Can we see that in action? Like, Terry’s in a Mob meeting, and there’s his pretty little Omega bringing in some homemade snacks, offering them to the lot. Lucky bastard, that Silver. Maybe one of the Alpha there lets his gaze linger too long, and Daniel senses trouble, so he lets his touch linger on Terry to soothe him, maybe stays a little longer in the room so his scent calms Terry down. 

"What are you doing, Mama?"

Daniel looks up into the mirror to see his youngest boy. "Anthony! Come here, baby." His little one is as happy to snuggle as any of his puppies, but Daniel can honestly do with a cuddle himself. "I'm going to help Daddy," he says, pressing his nose into his curls. The boy lights up at the mention of his father. "Can I help Daddy?"

"I'm sure you can help Daddy loads when you're a big boy, hm?" He kisses the little cheek, and his son grins. Then he looks longingly at the make-up. "Can I be pretty too?"

"You are pretty, my love." He takes out the strawberry flavored lip balm anyway. "Open?" Anthony does, and he can feel a little shiver of delight go through the small body. "Pixie dust?" Daniel says as he applies just the tiniest amount of bronzer. (It's all about the feeling of the soft, big brush to the boy, anyway.)

Then he combs his son's locks and pins back a few curls. "Why don't you go pick out a nice flower for your hair with Auntie Jessica, baby? You can show Mama and Daddy after." Satisfied, the boy runs off, and Daniel lets out a deep breath.

Time to put on his battle face. It's the first time they are trying to buy an officer.

You can't simply order a cop to take your money. There's always some inherent disdain on both sides, and play your cards wrong, they might start an investigation.

Also, the strongest ones are not for sale.

Terry has a weak spot there, he doesn't respect weak men. He extorts them. Needing them, actually needing them, is foreign to him, which makes this a tough tightrope to walk. What to extort someone who has so little with? What influence to offer them?

Omega.

Daniel knows the type such Alphas want, too - soft, shy and servile. It's why, of course, in his first meeting with Terry, he did his best to appear anything but.

But now, his knocking on Terry's door is timid, though it comes not a moment too soon. His mate is agitated, Daniel can sense it. His first instinct is, as ever, to run to his mate, and he follows it this time. Not usually. Normally, he's a plotted distraction. This time, he is selling a dream.

He stands very close to his mate, but offers the plate of snacks with lowered eyes, head tilted down - if he does take care to hand Terry the cocktail with no alcohol in it.

Terry is having none of it. He takes Daniel's platter, puts it on his desk in front of him, and pulls Daniel close against his body. Protective instincts, then,against a strange Alpha his mate can't completely control. Yeah, he's frazzled. Daniel's Pop never reacted this strongly.

"Baby," Terry whispers. "Baby, what are you doing?"

"Trust me," he breathes against his mate's collarbone, cuddling in just slightly. He can feel his Alpha's body relax as if they were in bed. "I made your favorite, sir," he says then, more loudly. "Arancini, and olives in chili oil."

The other Alpha stirs. "That sounds delicious."

Daniel's shock is not completely feigned. You'd think he's in heat, the way the man sounds. He gives a small look, cuddles back in. Still, he squeezes Terry's arm. Trust me.

"Excuse my mate, officer Jones," Terry drawls, giving him a little push. "Honey, we have guests."

Honey is code. He never calls him that. Now, Daniel approaches the man with perfect, finishing school poise. "Excuse me, officer. May I offer you some refreshments?"

"How gorgeous," Jones says, and the double meaning wouldn't even be lost on the furniture. "Turn around, sweetheart, I want a better look."

Daniel swallows. "It's all in the taste, officer."

He laughs. "I bet." Before Daniel can react, he's up, yanking the platter out of his hands. "Sorry about that," he says, steadying Daniel with another hand.

Yeah, no. Daniel has half a mind to topple forwards and douse the man in alcohol, but instead he drops sideways, away from him, and right into Terry's path, because his mate will have taken that as a challenge and is indeed running over. "Sorry, I'm so clumsy," Daniel squeaks, but is in fact kind of relieved to feel Terry's arms around him. Not in the least because he cannot fight this way.

"That's OK, mo cuishle," Terry says. "Why don't you go check up on our babies, hm? We'll finish up here, soon."

"Thank you, sir," is so soft he can barely hear it himself. He nods at the Alpha. "Please enjoy, officer."

His grin is revolting. "No worries, sweetheart," he says, and Daniel squeezes Terry's arm again. Nearly there.

Still, he's shaking when he closes the door behind him. That was vile. Did Pop ever have him serve dirty cops? He'd have to ask Ness.

He lingers close, keeping half an eye on Yasmin and Sammy, covering Anthony in flower crowns outside his window. Listens to the sounds of Robby practicing his very first chords; Eli and Gianni trying to construct something out of bottlecaps.

His puppies.

His world.

He stays away as he hears the door slam, the voices of the two Alphas as they say their goodbyes. Then, running footsteps and he's spun around the room.

"You did it!"

He smiles, holds tight.

"He took it?"

"Ha!" Terry's eyes are gleaming. "Offered me more than I asked for. Wanted to get with your sister."

He snorts. "Nessa? She'd have his kidneys for breakfast."

Terry pulls a face, then sweeps him back to his sitting room. Daniel clings on. "Terry what?"

But Terry sits him down in his desk chair, gives him a mock bow. "Don Silver."

He looks at him. "Terry, this was personal. Not business."

He stands behind the chair. "Oh, Danny love. When will you stop lying to yourself?"

He closes his eyes. "You can't turn me into something I'm not."

He crouches down beside him. "I didn't. It seems that all I need to do is get out of your way."

Then he kisses him, and Daniel stops thinking.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #187

Do you typically eat breakfast or skip it? I basically always eat it.

What was the last thing you took a picture of? An orb weaver spider at my sister's house. I hope she's still there, but I'm kinda doubtful since her web was attached to the kids' playset, and their dad is the kind of ignorant redneck that kills any harmless spider or snake he sees.

Do you have a collection of anything? Yes, primarily meerkat-oriented stuff.

How did you discover your favorite band? Ozzy, I discovered really through my mom; I grew up sometimes hearing him and eventually gravitated towards his music on my own. I first heard Rammstein in a Guitar Hero game.

What was the last big decision you made? uh... I don't know.

When was the last time you performed in front of a group of people? Not since I was a teenager (or maybe a very very young adult) in dance.

Did you ever used to make cookies, cakes or pie with your grandma? The only thing my maternal grandma (the only one I really knew) ever made me was pissed off lmao, no.

Do you burn incense? I like to, but I rarely do it.

Do you smoke weed? I don't, I'm not interested in smoking anything. It's also illegal in NC because this state is horribly behind with like... everything.

Have you actually been through a devastating natural disaster before? Yes; I was a baby when it happened, but Hurricane Floyd was no joke. It ruined certain areas around here, like there are certainly places where the weather damage was never truly fixed and houses withered. I've endured many hurricanes since, but none - I think - that were on Floyd's level.

What fast food place, in your opinion, has the best french fries? Bojangle's. I also like McDonald's a lot, but I think everyone loves McD's fries, lol.

Do you believe one day aliens might take over Planet Earth? Personally, no. The hell do I know though, I won't bet my life on that. Sometimes I feel like the world would be better off if aliens did say fuck y'all, lol.

Do you like soda pop? If so, which is your favorite and least favorite? Soda is my dietary weakness, easy fuckin' peasy. My favorite is Mountain Dew, specifically the Voltage kind, which is blue raspberry. I also enjoy strawberry Sunkist A LOT, but it's not something I have almost ever. I'd say my least favorite is root beer probably, it's not a flavor I really enjoy.

Does it bother you when people burp around you or do you do it too? I really don't give a shit, I wish basic bodily functions that are entirely normal weren't treated as if they're gross because I think it's had a very negative effect on health and caring for various things.

Ever had a friend named Alex or John? Alex, yes. We were very close online friends then she just like... fell off the face of the earth. I miss her a lot.

What kind of stuff do you like on your hot dogs? I'm pretty basic, just ketchup and mustard. Bits of finely diced onions is fine, too, but I don't go out of my way for it, and I definitely won't want a lot.

Where did you kiss the last person you kissed? In my bed before he went home.

Do you think it’s right for straight guys to get their tongue pierced? ...................... bitch what???????????? of course it's fine??????????????????????

Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? I've had my right nostril pierced twice in my life, and I want to get it redone again. I just always had issues keeping studs in.

Would you ever donate blood? I've done it twice now and absolutely plan to keep going whenever Girt goes to one. It was very fulfilling, plus it was a fun thing to do together.

Describe the main problem with your last relationship? We were/are both very mentally ill individuals and instead of helping each other stay upright, I feel like we dragged one another down.

Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Do you find hands attractive? I can find men's hands particularly attractive. It doesn't happen much with women; like I love elegant-looking hands aesthetically, but I'm not like, attracted to them. Hands aren't a major thing for me, though.

Do you think it is silly to give names to vehicles, or other inanimate objects? I don't care. I don't do it, but I don't care about it.

Is there a hair color/style you really like but don’t think you could pull off? I LOVE bald women, like oh my god y'all are so fucking hot but I could never do it.

Out of all the Disney/Pixar animal “sidekicks”, which one is your favorite? Dory.

If your mom was a teacher, would you want to be in her class? lol my mom HAS been a substitute (or assistant? idr) in an elementary class for me before. My mom was a fabulous teacher and I'd ALWAYS want her at the head of my class.

As a kid, did you love playing on Neopets? I sure did, I consider it the start of my Internet addiction.

Would you ever get a pet turtle? Why or why not? No, they're just not my kind of pet. I love 'em, but don't want to have any.

What shop/store/brand would you model for, if given the choice? Hot Topic, I guess. I don't really wanna model for anyone, I'm way too self-conscious, even if I wasn't fat.

If I search your room will I find birth control? No.

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Since I was a very literal child. It's one of the extremely few skills I'm actually confident in.

What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? Been a complete fucking asshole who thought she was doing good.

The last piece of roadkill you saw, what kind of animal was it? Uhhhh I think a raccoon?

Has anyone ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend with you? Yes.

List 5 things that have happened in the last 7 days. (They can be anything at all, anything that’s happened involving you, or your family, friends, partner) 1.) I had an antidepressant med's dosage increased, 2.) Girt got jumpscared to shit by a massive spider in the mail lol, 3.) I went shopping with my mom in a store for the first time in a VERY long time and I was very pleased with how my legs did, 4.) I finished a Wings of Fire book, and 5.) I fed Venus.

Random fact about the person you love/like? Tying into the last question, Girt's super super cute when he comes over on a night Venus gets fed (twice a month); he's wary around snakes and has never even touched her, but he gets hype about "rat day" and likes watching her eat.

How many pets do you want? And of what? A lot, mostly reptiles and various tarantula species. This is very dependent on where I live though as well as how easily I can provide for those I have. I refuse to hoard animals I can't give proper, healthy lives to.

Have you ever asked someone out? Yes, more than once.

Is the last person you kissed a virgin? No.

Who makes you the happiest? Girt.

What are your views on spontaneous human combustion? This shit is a super creepy concept, and I am so not a scientist that can give you a proper stance here. I FEEL like there's been at least one confirmed case of this killing somebody, but I might be wrong, and honestly I hope I am. The idea of this being possible is absolutely terrifying.

What was the last zoo/aquarium you went to? Some aquarium by the beach, idr its name.

What does the last message in your Facebook inbox concern? Girt's sister Ashley sent me some pictures of car decal she got because she knew it was a topic I cared about.

How did you meet the person you fell hardest for? Technically Facebook; he reached out to me after apparently seeing me in the school hallway and having an "I need to know her" fairytale moment, asking a friend who I was or something. Nowadays it's like... thanks for the trauma bro lmao

What was your favourite thing about the person you fell hardest for? He was very unique, and completely unashamed of who he was. He was so comfortable being him, which I couldn't and still can't relate to but wish I did.

Are you a strong swimmer? I mean, I'm fine at it. I prefer to just doggy paddle, lol.

What was your worst fear as a child? Have you overcome that fear? Tornadoes, and no, not really. I'm less hysterical in situations where one might occur, but I am still very much terrified of tornadoes.

What kind of music do you listen to the most? I'd say industrial metal/rock, probably.

Have you ever tried veggie burgers? Yes, I had a vegetarian phase. I had okay ones, but they weren't spectacular or anything. Nothing like an actual burger.

Would you rather have another job? I'd like to have *A* job... One I can actually do and not have to keep going into a bathroom to have a panic attack and cry.

Did you ever live in a house with more than one story? No.

Do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother? No. My mother's the one who BUYS any clothes I put on my body, so... lol

Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? ew no

Do you look older or younger than you actually are? Younger. In about the past year-ish, I've been mistaken for a teenager twice.

What was the last show that you watched a full episode of? It was a Naked and Afraid-type show with Mom.

Do you have any significantly older siblings? Yes, both my parents have kids from relationships before theirs together.

Which parent do you feel the most affection for? My mom.

Do you know anyone who hates/dislikes chocolate? My maternal grandma only liked chocolate in the form of Reese's, and my nephew Ryder is weird with chocolate, too. Sometimes he likes it, sometimes he doesn't, but I know he definitely prefers vanilla.

Have you ever hated yourself? oh boy have I

Did your parents ever ground you? Mom did, my dad didn't do much in terms of raising us kids and deciding things about us.

Do you like your smile? No.

Were you/are you popular in high school? I wasn't.

Who is your female celeb crush? (If applicable) Rhea Ripley could break my back and I'd nut ok

Who is your male celeb crush? (If applicable) Richard Kruspe could also break my back and I'd be cool abt it

Do you have a favorite Marvel character? Deadpool, probs.

Favorite DC character? Harley Quinn.

Do you read comic books? I don't.

Name a few historical figures you find interesting. Why? I find Sarah Winchester, designer of the Winchester Mystery House, to be EXTREMELY fascinating. She was the widow of the creator of the Winchester rifle and never stopped expanding upon her mansion in an attempt to supposedly confuse and flee the spirits killed by her husband's firearm design. She was very involved in spiritual practices and she just really intrigues me, all the while I feel deeply for such a haunted, miserable person.

What is your favorite historical film and why? The Boy in the Striped Pajamas because the feeling it leaves you goes so far beyond words. The Holocaust in general just SOUNDS so fake in how evil it was, and while the movie may tell the tale of made-up kids, the general gist was so real. It's a movie that has left me feeling so cold each time I've seen it.

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

Also, to loop back rather jarringly to what I was rambling about earlier, it always sat wrong with me that Krieg - the planet, not the Death Korp itself - was meant to have been a hive world before the civil war.

Kind of a defining feature of their backstory, other than their intense sense of shame at the actions of their ancestors, is that five hundred years of atomic cleansing made the planet a lethal wasteland. But as a hive world it wouldn’t exactly been a picnic to start with, would it? A trademark of most every hive world is that outside the hives it is, to put it mildly, unpleasant.

It’s not a huge issue, but it sticks out to me. Like many things in the book...

So.

What I’d do is something like this:

Krieg pre-rebellion is not a hive world. It’s just a world. Pretty advanced by the standards of 40k, let’s say. Hell, let’s go so far as to say pleasant. You can walk around outside and it’s nice, and more’s the point there’s no war on Krieg. It might be shipping out arms and armaments - advanced so can make them a little, yeah? - along with men, but Krieg itself is not under attack.

This gives you options. Maybe the Imperium is starting to ramp up its demands of output. Lots more people being sent away to die somewhere, and enough production that it is actually starting to have a detrimental effect on the environment. Maybe this is the point where Krieg would start on its way to being a hive world!

It kind of makes the decision to secede look more reasonable, which I think is key. The Krieg book I’m reading - sorry Steve - makes all the autocrats venal and self-centered and, in the case of the lead one, just plain ugly and greasy and flabby. Not a fan of that sort of thing, it’s weak. Far better, I think, for them to have a legitimate point - hey, the Imperium is fucking up our planet and what is it giving us in return? Nothing!

Having the autocrats just be greedy politicos out for themselves is a little on the nose, I feel.

And having Krieg as a fairly regular planet prior to five hundred years of atomic cleansing makes it ending up a cloud-choked, lethal wasteland more impactful. An already-lethal wasteland ending up a more-lethal wasteland seems a bit eh, to me.

We then move onto Jurten, the man who kicked off the atomic cleansing.

Now, full disclosure, I haven’t finished the book yet, but from the way it’s heading I get the impression they’re going to find all the nukes hidden away somewhere, while Jurten and his cohort of loyalists is stuck in one hive city under siege. That’s one idea.

I much, much preferred the idea that Jurten wasn’t the leader of the loyalist contingent, but was rather just one officer out of many. A particularly zealous officer, sure, but not the man in charge. That, and I preferred the idea of the nukes - and it is and must be nukes, because it is five hundred years of atomic cleansing - were just there from the start. 

Nukes do exist in 40K, where they’re usually called atomics, they’re just not used all that much for a couple of hand-wavy reasons. Whatever, it’s fine.

But yes.

The book is angling towards the nukes being used after a good few months of grueling siege warfare. I always imagined it happening fairly early on, when the loyalists, aware that help was probably going to be a long time coming, run the numbers and see that, eventually, they’re going to lose, and Jurten goes against the orders and desires of everyone and just fires tonnes of these fucking nukes at rebel cities, wrecking the whole planet in the process, bringing the whole war into a more even, lethal slog for five hundred years.

Although ‘five hundred years of atomic cleansing’ does kind of imply it kept going, but the first strike would be the big one.

Because, like, if the planet was nicer, there could be some reluctance on the part of the loyalist command to do anything drastic. Jurten, being a nutbag, has no such reservations - the planet is the Emperor’s or it is no-one’s.

...anyway, I’ve rather lost the thread.

But you get my idea, right?

[sanguineterrain]

✦steve with glasses and his messy hair looking so pretty as he tries to read and maybe study, pushing his glasses over the bridge of his nose, lips pursing when he tries to concentrate and his tongue poking out when he writes and scribbles down some notes <3

*heavy breathing* m.... m what have you done...

insecure!steve, slight make out, absolutely feral reader (it's me. I'm the reader.)

****

Steve is hunched over his kitchen table when you come in. He hasn't heard you yet, or he would've perked up and sought you out for kisses.

You set the tin of homemade cookies on the counter. You know Steve probably hasn't thought to eat much; ever since he threw himself into college applications, he's been somewhat of a hermit. He won't even let you help with his essays, which is very strange, but you don't question it. It's Steve's process, and whatever he needs from you, you're happy to provide.

But also: you haven't seen each other in two days, and you might go insane if you don't curl up with him on the couch soon.

You move quietly, not wanting to disturb his concentration. You place a few cookies on a plate and pour some milk from the fridge. You'd made snickerdoodles: Steve's favorite.

You pad over to the kitchen table. Steve's back faces you, shoulders curved inwards.

"Baby," you say softly, setting down the snack next to him. "You'll hurt your neck sitting like that."

You slip your hands over his shoulders and dip down to kiss his face and—oh.

You blink. Steve has... glasses?

"Hey," you start. "Where did—"

They're gone in a flash. Steve tears them off and shoves them into his pocket. His cheeks are dusted pink. You frown.

"Why'd you take 'em off, sweetie?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Didn't want you to know."

"Didn't want me to know... you wear glasses? Why not?"

Steve pushes hair behind his ear and fiddles with his pencil.

"'S stupid," he says.

"No," you reply immediately. "It's not stupid if it's making you feel bad. Tell me, baby, please?"

You sit in the adjacent chair and lean in to hold Steve's hand. You squeeze encouragingly. Steve swallows.

"People made fun 'f me," he admits quietly. "My–my dad said only weak men wear glasses."

"What? What the fuck does he know? God, what a—"

You catch yourself. Right. This is about Steve, not his prick father.

"Sorry, honey," you say. "Go on."

Steve shrugs. He's wound tightly, poised like he's ready to bolt any second.

"I've needed glasses since sixth grade. I just didn't wear them 'cause Tommy teased me. And some girls said I looked better without 'em. So I just never wore 'em. But now—" Steve swallows. "I—I guess the stuff with the Upside-Down made my vision worse 'cause the letters are too blurry for me to see without glasses."

Steve stops then. He looks at your neck, not your eyes. You realize he's waiting for you to pass judgment.

"Baby," you say. "Can you show me your glasses?"

Steve looks a little green at the request. You kiss his cheek, petting his face.

"I bet you look really cute," you add. "Bet I'll wanna kiss you till your glasses fog up."

Steve snorts at that.

"Smooth," he says. "Which one of us was the king in high school?"

You grin.

"What're you talking about, Stevie? Obviously, I ruled the school and you got all shy when I charmed your pants off."

Steve really does go shy at that. You prod his arm.

"Please, baby? I promise it's okay. Promise I won't make fun of you or laugh at you. You know I'd never do that."

Steve heaves a sigh. Then he reaches into his pocket and puts on the glasses.

The lenses are a little thick, and make Steve's big eyes even bigger. They're clear, thin frames that sit delicately on Steve's nose.

You have a visceral reaction because holy shit. Whoever said Steve looked ugly in glasses had stew for brains.

"Oh," you breathe.

"What?" Steve panics, reaching for the glasses. "What? They're bad, right? I knew I shouldn't have trusted that guy at the doctor's. He said everybody's wearing these, but—"

You stop him by his wrists. Steve looks at you, eyes wide with confusion.

"You look so good," you say.

Steve's ears go red. He ducks his head.

"You don't—you don't have to say that stuff, Y/N. I know they're dorky and—"

"No, Steve. I—fuck. You're so fucking cute."

You stand and situate yourself on his lap, straddling one thigh. You cup his face, feeling the soft skin.

"Such a pretty boy," you coo. "So, so pretty."

You take him for a proper kiss before he can argue. He follows along clumsily like maybe you really did rule the school instead of him, soft and pliant underneath.

You feel rabid. Of course, you hadn't expected Steve to look ugly in the glasses. Steve is handsome in everything. But...

You pull away. Steve's lips are swollen. His glasses are fogged up. You grin.

"Oh, baby. You've been holding out on me."

You tuck your hands behind his neck and twirl the shorter hairs there. Steve holds your hips, half-lidded.

"They really look good?" he asks, voice a little stronger.

"Yeah, sweetie. They really do. My handsome boy."

Steve swallows hard. You give him a chaste kiss on his nose and then reach behind to bring a cookie to his lips. He pouts.

"Eat," you order.

"But..." Steve openly stares at your lips.

"Eat," you say, leaning in. "And I'll fog up your glasses all you want. 'Kay?"

Steve takes the cookie.

[smallblueblondie]

I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and say you are genuinely interested in learning and aren't asking in bad faith!

A lot of the links I drew are outlined in the original post, but I'll go over a few more clearly. Keep in mind I'm speaking as a white us-american enby and Black Trans Women or just WOC overall could offer you even stronger and more eloquent insight. I'll use this as an opportunity to add onto my original post and add some insight some of the reblogs gave me!

1) Womanhood defined by Beauty. Radfems and Terfs often define what makes a woman a "real woman" by what she looks like, either at a first glance or deeper down. I unfortunately don't have the screenshot myself but there's been many terfs listing how to "clock" trans women using phrenology and beauty standards. The idea that big noses, dark skin, large hands, thick body hair, are all masculine and "ugly" features so therefore if a woman has those, she mus be secretly trans. A lot of the features they list line up with features common in women of color (specifically black women are often targeted), intersex women, and just women who don't naturally look like pretty pale porcelain dolls.

2) Victims of transvestigation. Most often I see this in the infamous trans in sports debate where terfs will try and accuse athletes who are "too good" at being trans women (which in itself is also misogyny, why are women these frail helpless flowers in their minds?), and often they demand Testosterone testing be done and that these women "prove" they're real women. More often than not they're accusing black and latina women of being trans because they don't fit the beauty standard or perform "better" than what they think a real (white) woman could do. Serena Williams is one I see often accused of being a "man with a mans body and a mans face and man hips and man man man" but there's tons of CIS black female athletes accused of maleness because of their blackness.

3) Denying Black Femininity. Black women are often accused of being men and masculine regardless of it's by terfs or conservatives as an exercise of racism. They're told they're "hulking, too strong, manish, ugly." They're denied their right to be feminine because the beauty standard is skinny hairless white women. Another example is the countless conservatives who accused Michelle Obama of being secretly a man out of nothing but her blackness. Terfs often see this and mimic it, because

4) They learn from their friends. Notoriously radfems have no issue rubbing elbows with Nazi's, white power groups, violent xenophobes, and other deeply racists folks in exchange for their agreeing to further target trans people as well as people of color. Even if a terf isn't outwardly racist, they don't see racism as a real problem. Only misogyny is the real oppression, and racism is a frivolous afterthought at best. Most notably is UK based terfs working with their conservative party to further both racist and transphobic movements. Terfs have no problem siding with neo-nazis as long as they can burn trans people alongside people of color.

5) The roots of radical feminism itself are based in bioessentialism and gender essentialism based on white, European, colonialist ideas of gender. Female and Male only. Women are pathetic and weak and helpless and can only cook clean and birth babies, they're too fragile and mousy for anything else. Men are uncontrollable beasts, slaves to their libido and hormones who have no emotion besides horny or angry, and they do all the "real work" for the world. But terfs tack on "girl power" to all that without removing any of the gender roles, any of the sexism, any of the white european gender roles of it all. Many nonwhite cultures have historically had more than one gender, room for trans folks, gender roles completely different from female baby machine and male labor machine. They insist these white european colonial gender roles are biological facts and every other (nonwhite) culture's view on gender is deranged transgender fakeness. Or that trans people are the real racists for having nonwhite gender ideas.

These are the main points I have seen myself and the main ways terfs/radfems uphold, empower, and further white supremacy through their ideology. If anyone has more feel free to add on, I'm personally muting notifications on this post for my own sanity because despite having a lot to say, I dislike conflict strongly. And with tumblr smacking anyone speaking out against transphobia or terfism with the ban hammer, I was a little nervous about this post suddenly gaining so much traction again.

Please never stop ignoring that white supremacy is a huge core element of radfem/terf ideology.

Like yes they hyperenforce gender roles and stereotypes on all cis women, but it is primarily women of color that they target and accuse of being predatory and "not real women" when they're targeting cis women.

The metrics of "real woman vs trans woman" that terfs love to share are almost all just white eurocentric beauty standards. Small nose, thin fine hair, little/no body hair, petite but somehow curvy, hell I've even seen a post saying skin lightness is a determiner.

Terf/radfem circles are racist at their core. You cannot separate radical feminism from it's violently white supremacist roots. You can't have "anti-racist radical feminism", that's a fucking oxymoron. There is a very clean path from terfs to tradfems/tradwifes, to just straight up conservative republican women.

Yes yes always, terfs are super misogynistic. They hurt all women by forcing them back into the little impossible painful boxes that they claim they're fighting. But one of their biggest targets other than trans women is black women. Not to mention ignoring, discrediting, or just straight up trying to erase all the hard work that black trans women did for queer rights.

Radical feminism is very much transphobic, homophobic, and misogynistic. I'm not saying stop addressing it as such. Don't ever do addressing it as such!

But racial feminism is white supremacy in a coat of pink paint. Please never forget that when talking about how it hurts us all.

[imsodishy]

Relationship Chicken(Soup)

Read On AO3

Steve’s not being clingy. He’s not. 

Billy going radio silent for four days isn’t even weird. It hadn’t even pinged on Steve’s radar. Was Steve sulking at home waiting for his phone to ring? That’s nobody’s business. 

And he didn’t seek Max out as some way to get to Billy through his sister. No, he ran into her and Lucas, totally organically , at the grocery store when he was on a snack run. And she mentioned, completely unprompted , that Billy wasn’t cavorting with a series of gorgeous men, like Steve’s brain sometimes tried to convince him was the case whenever Billy was out of his direct line of sight for too long. On the contrary, Billy was sick with the flu. 

And, well, Steve was already at the grocery store, and chicken noodle soup isn’t even that hard to make. 

So, he’s not being clingy. He’s being thoughtful. Bringing his... long-term booty call? Fuck buddy? Friend with benefits? Whatever. Bringing Billy soup when he’s sick isn’t hovering, it’s just nice. 

So, it’s fine. He can knock on Billy’s door.

And once he’s done that, he can’t flee because ding-dong-ditching someone with the flu would be a dick move.

It takes a while, but Steve can hear shuffling inside the apartment and some faint coughing. Finally, the door opens. 

Billy shouts, “Fuck!” and then the door slams shut in Steve’s face. 

Not great. 

There’s an intense coughing fit happening on the other side of the door though, and that’s also not great. And Steve has soup. 

Once the coughing subsides Steve knocks again. “Billy?” he calls out through the door. 

“What are you doing here?” he sounds rough. Weak and sniffly, and like there’s another cough lurking. 

“I heard you were sick.” Steve explains. 

“What?” 

“Max said you’ve got the flu.” There’s an aggrieved moan and then a thump from inside the apartment, “Did you just die in there.” 

“Gonna kill that shit-bird.” It’s muffled like he’s muttering, but Steve’s pretty sure he’s got his face smushed to the door, so he can still hear it pretty clearly. 

“Come on, open the door.” 

“No.” He sounds so petulant even through the door that Steve actually feels encouraged to push a bit. 

“No? Why not?” 

There’s a long pause before he answers, “M’gross.” 

Steve laughs, “Well, yeah. You’re sick, dumbass.” 

“M’not supposed to be.” 

Steve frowns at no one, “You’re not supposed to be sick?” 

“Not supposed to be gross.” 

“What does- Billy, I feel like your neighbors are going to come out to gawk at me in a minute, and Mrs. Bursett already has more than enough dirt on me.” The old lady across the hall caught him half dressed in the hall the very first time Billy brought him over for sex. Or rather, immediately after, when he kicked Steve out. “Will you please open the fucking door? I brought you soup!” 

The door cracks open, and yeah, Billy is gross. His nose is red and raw looking, and his face is both pale and flushed in patches. He’s sweaty, and his hair is a greasy mess, pulled up in what was probably a ‘messy' bun at one point but is now just a messy bun. He’s wearing a Motörhead sweatshirt that’s about two sizes too big and black sweat pants that should probably have been thrown out a while ago. He’s got a quilt Steve’s never seen wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. 

He also looks utterly confounded. “You brought me soup?” 

Steve holds up the bag with the container of soup inside, “Homemade.” 

Billy looks, if possible, more confused. He squeezes his eyes shut like he’s really struggling to process the information being presented to him. “You... made me soup?” 

“Good for what ails ya.” Steve says like he’s not embarrassed at all by the fact that he cares. Billy just stands there staring at him kind of dumbly, which is odd, because he’s usually so damn sharp. Keeps Steve perpetually on his toes. 

Eventually Steve prompts, “Are you gonna let me in?” Billy sniffs and shuffles aside, hanging on to the door for a bit of support like he’s feeling weak. “Why don’t you go sit, I’ll heat you up a bowl.” 

Billy groans and rubs harshly at his face. “Everything is a mess.” He grumbles, but he does shuffle off towards the couch. Where, Steve can see, he’s built himself a little wallow. It’s dotted with the all the hallmarks of illness, mostly tissues and various packs of over-the-counter meds. 

In the kitchen there’s a sink full of mugs and bowls. From the looks of things Billy’s been subsisting on tea and cereal. First things first: Steve tips a serving of soup into a small pot and sets it to heat on the stove, then stores the rest in the fridge. While the soup warms, Steve sets to work on the dishes, so by the time it’s ready he’s filled the drying rack and has a clean dish to serve it in. He goes for a mug, easier to hold, less chance to spill. 

Billy seems to have made an attempt to tidy the living room, he’s piled all the used tissues on the coffee table anyway, before turning himself into a grumpy lump of blankets on the couch, watching Steve like a hawk in his nest. 

“Soup.” Steve says unnecessarily when he presents Billy with the mug.  Billy glares at him miserably, and cradles the mug to his chest with one hand. 

Steve detours to the bathroom and grabs the bin from under the sink and a new box of tissues. He sweeps all the tissues off the coffee table into the bin and plonks it down next to Billy’s knee. Then he plonks himself down on the couch and sets the box of tissues on the cushion between them. There are commercials playing on the TV, “So, what are we watching.” 

Billy is staring at him like he’s an alien. Slowly, like he’s expecting something (though Steve can’t even begin to guess what), Billy extracts his other hand from his blanket nest and takes hold of the spoon sticking out of the mug, it clinks as he stirs. He only looks away from Steve at last to supervise the spoonful he scoops up, careful not to drip. “Bewitched marathon.” he says, just before he shoves the spoon in his mouth. 

“Cool.” Steve starts humming the theme song. 

Billy cracks a tiny smile, half hidden by his raised mug, “That’s I Dream of Jeannie.” 

“Is it?” As if on cue a new episode of Bewitched starts up with the correct tune, “Oh, right. I always preferred Jeannie, I guess. This is good too though.” 

Billy just hums around another mouthful of soup. He’s wedged in to one corner of the couch turned mostly towards Steve, and over the next half hour Steve becomes ever more aware that Billy isn’t really watching the TV much at all. Every time Steve turns to him to make some little joke it’s to find Billy already watching him over the brim of his mug. Watching him almost suspiciously, like he thinks Steve might swipe his ashtray if given half a chance. 

It’s weird. They've watched stuff together before, here and there. Between rounds, recuperating afterwards, just killing time. Billy doesn’t always kick him out right away anymore, Steve’s even spent the night on purpose a few times, as opposed to the times they just passed out on each other. Usually, they talk over whatever they’re watching though. Billy especially never shuts up. Talks shit about the crappy late-night movies. Explains to Steve, in detail, how they do the awful gore effects. He smiles when Steve says something stupid by accident and cackles when Steve says something stupid on purpose. 

But tonight Billy is silent, and Steve can’t think of a single stupid thing to say to break the tension. 

Even while Steve keeps his eyes riveted to the screen, watching Samantha try to use magic to fix whatever problem magic caused before the last ad break, he’s keenly aware of Billy’s gaze boring into the side of his face. By the time a second episode is wrapping up he’s struggling not to squirm under the scrutiny. 

When he hears the slurp of Billy polishing off his mug of soup Steve can’t help himself anymore. “How’s the soup?” he asks still facing the TV. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watches Billy shrug and set the mug down, “Can’t really taste anything.” he says, and Steve nods along. “Can’t breathe through my nose, so I probably can’t blow you tonight either.” 

Steve stops nodding. Whips around to stare at Billy, who’s still fucking studying him. 

“Um, what?” Steve squeaks. 

Billy swipes at his nose with his sleeve, like there isn’t a box of tissues right there next to him. “I’m just saying. The ‘thank you' is gonna have to wait.” 

“Or, here’s a thought, you could just say thank you, you weirdo.” 

“Thank you .” he says, and Steve hears fuck you loud and clear. 

“Are you pissed at me?” Steve asks, pretty redundantly. Billy’s obviously pissed. 

“No.” Billy drawls. 

“Because I can leave if you don’t want me here.” 

“No.” he growls, then tries to suppress the coughing it causes. 

Steve scoffs, and turns back to the TV a little at a loss. The two of them hunker down to watch an old sitcom in stubborn silence. Steve can hear Billy snuffling and what he thinks is him biting his nails, though he absolutely refuses to look at him and check. 

They make it about five minutes through the tensest ever viewing of Bewitched before Billy huffs, “What are you doing here?” 

Steve stands up, “Oh my god! Fine, I’m going.” 

“No! What are you doing here?” Billy demands. He tries to stand too but he’s tangled in blankets, and Steve feels a pang of sympathy for the loss of dignity Billy suffers trying to shed his cocoon quickly. “You brought me fucking soup? Soup?! Like some kind of asshole grandma.” 

So much for the sympathy. 

“Do you even know what are you’re mad about right now? Because I have no idea.” 

“You. And your fucking soup .” 

Steve laughs, “This can’t actually be about soup. That’s insane.” 

“Fuck you.” Billy snaps, swiping angrily at his face with his sleeve. It’s not his runny nose this time though. Christ, he’s crying. Steve has somehow made him cry. 

“Billy… I’m sorry about… the soup?” 

Billy flops back down on the couch, face hidden in his hands, which are hidden in his too long sleeves. “Why?” he croaks. 

“Because you seem really upset about it.” Steve says helplessly, and Billy coughs, or chokes, or maybe, maybe , laughs. 

“Why are you here?” Billy says into his sleeve mittens. 

Steve sits gingerly back down on the couch, rubs at his own face. “I heard you were sick, and I thought soup might help,” he feels like he explained this already. “And-“ 

Steve flounders, but the pause has Billy looking over at him. His eyes are red rimmed and glassy, and it’s from being sick and from crying, but it makes them looks so goddamn blue. He looks like he’s expecting a killing blow. Steve has no idea if he's about to deliver one.

“-and I missed you,” Steve ruffles his hair. “Look, if I crossed a line showing up like this, I'm sorry. I know we’re not like that. But, I just…” Steve looks at Billy’s sweaty, snotty, blotchy face, and smiles, “I wanted to see you.”

Billy sniffs hard, rubs at his face with his gross sleeves, “My head hurts.” he whines. 

Steve sighs. “You due for any meds?” 

Billy shakes his head no, then keeps shaking his head. He seems lost. “I wasn’t expecting you. I’m not,” he gestures at himself jerkily, “Equipped. This is hardly the fantasy.” 

“Who’s fantasy? My fantasy?" Billy looks miserable and Steve figures in for a penny, "The thing is, it kind of is.” 

Billy gives him a flatly unimpressed look, “Your fantasy is parking it on the couch while I drip snot all over everything?” 

“Well, maybe not the snot part all the time. But people do get sick sometimes, so you’re allowed to get sick.” Steve laughs, Billy doesn’t. Steve studies his face for a minute, “You’re allowed to be a people. A- a person, I mean. You’re allowed to- you know what I meant.” Billy does laugh at that. He’s so gross, and he’s so beautiful. “And, yeah. You’re a person I want to sit on the couch with.” 

“No one’s ever made me soup before.” Billy sounds sort of helplessly lost, Steve thinks he gets it now, a little bit at least. He’s fidgeting with his sleeves when he asks, “You wanna stay the night?” 

He coaxes Billy into the shower, because everyone feels better after a shower, and Steve tackles the bedroom while he’s occupied. He clears out the tissues that are in there and a couple more mugs to be washed. He changes the sheets, which he’s done here before, just usually due to a wet spot not the general sad funk of illness.

Once Billy’s out of the shower, and in clean pyjamas, and medicated (still looking slightly grumpy and befuddled), Steve bundles them into bed together. As Steve wraps around him like an extra blanket, Billy says, “You’re gonna get sick.” like he just can’t stop himself from being a contrary little shit. 

“It’s fine,” Steve smacks a kiss to his temple, “We've got soup.”

[aphrostarot]

Astrology and The Sexes: Aries Woman

The Aries Woman:

Title: “The Original” 

For simplicity's sake, I will use the pronouns “he/him” for the male versions of the signs and “she/her” for the female versions of the signs. This is not to say that the people who identify with the male or female versions of each sign identify with those pronouns. This post is focusing on the different sexes (male vs female) not gender. Gender is fluid and I am in no way labeling people with these posts. Also, these posts are focusing solely on the Sun signs of each zodiac, other birth chart placements may cause someone to not fit into everything I have described.

Masterlist

Mind (how they think):

The Aries woman can be quite active, directive, and goal-oriented. She is often described as being anything universally recognized as “masculine” as opposed to anything “feminine” such as being, passive, subjective, etc. 

The Aries woman is the personification of masculinity in the feminine form. 

She takes herself the most seriously. She tends to be quite guarded and doesn’t impress easily. 

Her goddess archetypes are Lilith and Athena. 

She naturally poses a challenge to the world of men. 

She is hard-pressed to carve out and sustain her identity in a society that has only just recently, and, still, just barely, begun to allow a woman all the rights and privileges afforded to men. 

She believes that the only way for her to be successful is by distancing herself from others. 

She also refuses to be dominated by men so, she will often keep to her own counsel. 

She is extremely competitive and you will oftentimes find her showing someone up. And she will be incredibly cutthroat while doing so. 

She is incredibly independent and she does this on purpose. She would much rather work alone than with someone else. 

She appears as an aloof loner rather than a social outcast.

She will often be labeled as a “feminist” from a young age, but, such political purpose couldn’t be further from her mind. She has no agenda but her own. 

Without even trying she just seems so out of reach which makes people pursue her all the more vigorously. 

She gives off an air of superiority that makes people fall to their knees around her. 

She is not opposed to throwing a temper tantrum when she doesn’t get what she wants. Other than those tantrums though, she appears to be relatively unemotional. 

She doesn’t need, she demands. Mainly attention, and to be allowed to assert her will. 

She is usually the female version of her father. 

However, she often looks down on her mother with pity. This is because she views her mother as repressing her own needs and goals for those of her husband, which the Aries female is determined to never allow in her own life. 

The Aries girl may be the son her father never had. Regardless of whether he has sons or not. She is her dad's favorite child. 

Because of her parent's relationship, she will associate feminity with weakness and identifies strength in a masculine presence, which explains why she often is overly masculine. 

Body + Soul (what they look like inside and out):

An Aries woman has an indomitable spirit. She demonstrates what a woman can do on her own, against societal odds. She is a symbol of strength, self-reliance, and liberation. 

Almost anything she wears looks good on her. However, her main style is jeans and a T-shirt.

She can pull off a sexy dress if need be, but she prefers to be comfortable. 

She tends to be on the taller and leaner side. She can be pretty light-skinned when compared to her family members, regardless of her race.

Her face is very striking. She has a sculpted bone structure that makes her face look wide and flat.

She has round eyes and bushy brows. A small straight nose, and a small mouth. 

Her lips tend to be on the thinner side, with the bottom one being bigger than the top. It may seem as though she doesn’t have a top lip sometimes because it is so thin. 

She can also look like an owl because of her flat face and big round eyes. This makes sense though, because, Athena's sacred animal was an Owl.

Her skin will appear porcelain-like, it is almost perfect with rarely any beauty marks or acne. 

Her back and shoulders are strong and straight. It seems as though she has perfect posture. 

She tends to have smaller boobs that remain relatively muscular (they are not very soft and squishy to the touch).

She has quite long legs and big thighs that make her a great athlete. 

Her pelvis is pretty prominent and forward-projected with long thigh muscles that create a U-turn look at her crotch. 

She doesn’t tend to have a hairy body but when it comes to her pubes she tends to have quite the bush. 

She doesn’t lack any moisture in her vagina. Her clit can get enlarged quite quickly when she is aroused. 

There is a springiness to her walk that is almost childlike, and she never appears ungraceful. It's hard not to notice a sexy bit of boyish energy running right through her wispy feminine figure.

When you first meet her she can seem quite brusque, cliquey, or even outright confrontational. This is because it’s hard for her to trust people that she doesn’t know and she doesn’t care to be subtle about it. 

She is ruggedly feminine rather than ambiguously androgynous. She is a handsome beauty, both admirable and sexually appealing to everyone.   

Sex + Sexuality (what they are like in bed and what they look for in a mate):

Aries Woman Interested in Men:

Since she does not want to end up like her mother she tends to go for the strong silent type. 

She can be quite indifferent when it comes to a long-term relationship. 

Sex has to be a daily mainstay in her relationships. If she is not in a relationship she will masturbate almost every day. 

She can be like the stereotypical man who is only looking to “score” rather than entering a committed relationship. 

This is not to say that she can’t settle down or won’t settle down because she usually does it later in life. And once she is in a committed relationship her partner will need to try and keep her interested by doing things that excite her both in and out of the bedroom because she tends to get bored very easily. 

She also isn’t ever one to jump into a marriage.

She prefers older guys when she is younger but, as she ages, she may start to prefer younger guys. 

When she is sick of being single she will steer clear of commanding personalities and will prefer a nurturing guy that will allow her to assert herself whenever she pleases.  

It takes her a while to open up to her partner because she doesn’t trust easily. However, if you have been in her life for quite some time she will soon start to open up and show her more vulnerable sides which will make you fall even more in love with her.

There may be some Aries women who crave a traditional marriage with someone who is okay with her independent lifestyle. But, most of the time even when an Aries woman is madly in love she will still despise the idea of marriage and becoming legally beholden. 

Her ideal mate is a hardworking man who will keep up with her rough sex life. 

She naturally assumes superiority over her significant other, especially intellectually.

Men often label her as a “tease” and a “slut” because of their double standards. She is very unapologetic about her directness when it comes to sex which intimidates many men. 

Sexually she acts on impulse and responds to whatever physical attraction she feels.

She doesn’t take rejection very easily. This is because she doesn’t understand how someone could not be interested in her.

She craves instant gratification in sex. 

She is not one for foreplay, she would much rather get to the main event. 

She is in pursuit of her own orgasm and that will be her main focus during sex. It isn’t until she has finished that she will direct her focus on her partner. 

She is known to play with herself during sex. This is because she believes she truly is the only one who can get her off the proper way and she also doesn’t want her partner to be distracted.

 She likes oral but only when she is on the receiving end. She rarely will want to suck a guy off. 

She mainly likes it on top. 

She can drink many guys under the table and she can also outscrew men too. 

Sex can be quite competitive with her. 

She likes it rough but she will not accept someone taking advantage of that. 

She likes a submissive man. She wants to make him squirm. 

She, however, likes a struggle for domination and prefers a partner who is a switch. 

She gets off on the raw scent of a man.

She is not the stereotypical feminine sexuality (perfume, plucking, and powder puffs) and this is something she wants all men to know about her. She has an almost animalistic quality to her sexuality. 

She also dreams of pegging a man. This is another physical representation of her desire to dominate men. 

She gets off on being watched. Lights on, shades up, and sex in public are some of the things she likes. 

She likes to be cuckolded. She wants her partner to watch while she gets fucked by another guy. 

Aries Woman Interested in Women:

An Aries woman who is attracted to other women looks for a more domineering woman. She wants to be their sex object. 

She may be way more feminine than the straight Aries. 

She likes to dress up in lingerie and perform stripteases for her partner. 

On the outside, though she will still be wearing a T-shirt and jeans. However, underneath there may be some pretty sexy lingerie. 

She likes to share her alpha female status with her partner when she is in a relationship with a woman. 

She wants a woman to worship her in a dominating way. 

She may like an older lover. 

She wants her partner to take care of her, almost as if they are her mother. 

She wants to be the submissive one in the bedroom. She wants her partner to ravish her. 

If her partner is more masculine she will take the femme role to the next level. 

She is not opposed to the use of a strap-on in the bedroom and may even crave it. 

The gay Aries may completely withhold herself from male contact and only associate herself with women. 

She may also like to have a threesome with another woman or sometimes maybe a man if she is attracted to men. However, she will happily respect her partner’s wishes, and if they do not want a third party involved she is okay with that. 

Nothing should ever come in between her and her lover no matter her sexuality. An Aries woman is very territorial and possessive even jealous sometimes over her lover and will fight anyone who tries to break them apart. 

When she finds someone she actually loves, she will do anything and everything to protect and preserve that bond.

[diamond-coral]

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” 

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview.  Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes. 

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”  

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?” 

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

[btstarotpredictions101]

Jungkook future spouse reading

All about her

• sensitive, easily triggered, cry alone either in the bathroom or her room

• very mature because suffer from lots of things in the past , old souls, she quite young, idk i feel this girl is pretty young

• anger issues

• Rbf type of face, face can manipulate people

• an introvert but also extrovert

• cold as fuck, but sometimes soft ( she only soft when she’s around her friends, family and JK )

• very balance mature and immature energy ( sometimes she give JK wife vibes - mature, sometimes she give him baby/girlfriend vibes - immature ) and yes my guy love it so much

• loves animals, flowers ( im seeing very clear that she’s like the mystery princess playing with butterflies alone in a big garden, wearing a white dress and bare feet )

• loves sweets and foods

• loves jewelry/accessories and clothes

• strong outside, weak but a lil strong inside

• hard worker

• mental health, depression, insomnia, anxiety, social anxiety, childhood trauma

• career : idol, model, actress, someone who is famous ( well right now she’s not a celebrity because she still learning things and still trying to reach her goals )

• friends and family are always around her but she feel empty and lonely like every fucking days

• could be a healer, someone knows or into spiritual stuff

• astrology : water - air - earth ( sun moon rising ), earth taurus or fire leo also really strong

• come from a strict family, well no, i lied. Its not that strict but still, she have very good manners and that makes Jk likes about her

• you could call “popular girl” or “cool girl” because lemme tell you this woman attract lots of men, she have choices, people are chasing her because of her unique beauty

• she really likes tattoos and piercings, she could have some in the future but not right now

• age gap : idk why but i feel like she is way younger than JK, like over 5 years age gap, but not over 10 💀

• asian, but not korean, she live in a hot country

• sometimes seductive-chessy-fruity, but most of the time she innocent

• she give me mysterious vibes, not that talkative but will talk a lot when she with her friends and JK

• different cultures

Appearance

• dark eyes ( sad - sorrow - soulful type of eyes )

• dark circle under eyes

• round face ? or could be small face with chubby cheek

• full lips ( big bottom lips )

• moles ( face, hands, legs,.. )

• scar ( face )

• height : 168cm ~ 170cm

• weight : 40kg ~ 48kg

• body type : hourglass ⌛️, skinny

• small wrist

• abs - either 1:1 or 6 packs

• tan yellow white ish skin tone

• i feel like her face kinda like soojin ? could be the cheek or the nose

• long/short/medium hair length

Their current energy

Their past life karma are affecting them in this life path right now. They might experience heart ache, crying at night, crying for no reason, feeling empty, lonely, lost,heavy breathing, thinking.

What JungKook likes about her :

• Her creative mind, and always think wisely in a situation

• he like the way she always give him butterflies even tho she didn’t do anything lmao

• Jungkook might feel insecure when he and her are in a talking stage because this woman is so damn attractive so people are chasing after her. Jungkook like the way she calm him down and help him think positive

• he like the vibes and energy, when he talk with her it’s feels like home, he feel very comfortable and relax

• the way she expresses her love to him, she often say “i love youuuu” not “i love you” and she might hug him a lot or let him hold her small hands. DANG IT HOW CUTE

• he like her scents and her hair

• he like her calm vibes and her tone voice when she talks with him

• he like her beauty

• he like the way she controls everything in her life and make it balance as possible

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

Pepa likes big men on top of her...so I can just picture her being sick and clingy and wanting to feel warm and safe so she somehow gets Felix to lay on top of her and cuddle her that way because she feels safe with him and he's plenty warm

Oooh i love a good snuggly prompt-

Félix admired Pepa. She was sick, and refused to use some of Julieta's arepas to heal herself (ever since the Encanto opened, Julieta had been volunteering outside, so she left arepas for emergencies when she was out of town), despite his insistence. It was fine though, he was her husband, it was his job to take care of her. He carried the tray of tea and broth (no actual bits of food, she claimed her jaw hurt too much) to her room, gently knocking on the door to let her know he was here.

"Pepa? Mi amor, how are we feeling?"

"I'm killing my sister when she gets here. I deserve my own arepas."

"Oh, mi poor bebè. It's okay, your husband is here."

He prompted her to sit up a bit, despite her claiming she could totally eat from her position on her stomach. He held the bowl in his hand, and started to feed it to her.

"I'm NOT a baby, Félix."

"Shh, you're my baby. Now drink, I spent all day making it for you."

She wanted to be stubborn, but he could tell she was genuinely enjoying the hot broth. She relaxed a bit, graciously holding onto his hand after every spoonful as if thanking him.

"Thank you. I know I'm hard to take care of."

"What makes you say that?"

She pointed to the tarp above them, holding the pouring rain she was making. The things he had to do to keep her spot dry and clean. Well, the bed at least. He sighed as he put the bowl down, holding onto her hand and kissing it.

"It's not difficult. It's different. When I married you, I promised I'd do anything to make your life better. It's the least I can do for making MY life better."

She looked so cute with just a little bit of mist on her face.

"Aw, Félix...thats so-!"

She sneezed hard enough to scare him, and she groaned uncomfortably as her face just ran with boogers. She wasn't dying or anything, but jeez his Pepi was SICK. He helped her clean up with a few tissues, and kissed her boiling hot cheek. Félix pretty much never got sick, so he had no qualms still giving his wife the affection she deserved.

"Ya, it's okay. Now, I made you that tea Julieta makes to put you to sleep. Let's have some."

"I want cake with it."

"The sugar will keep you up."

She pouted like a child, and the cloud darkened. She hated being told no, more than anyone, but she forced herself to not whine. He helped her drink her tea, and he swore as soon as she finished the last drop, her eyes grew droopy. Good, maybe she can FINALLY take a nap today. He put everything on the tray, and Félix lightly patted her lap in an attempt to soothe her. She groaned a bit in discomfort, and a crackle of thunder formed from her clearly not being happy.

"I won't stay asleep. I know it."

The most she slept today was about two minutes. He sighed, hating that he felt so useless. If he could have a power, it'd be healing. It'd give Julieta such a break, and it was something that his Pepa could use whenever she wanted.

"Do you have any idea what WOULD help mami sleep?"

"Get on top of me."

Now don't get him wrong, his wife was always sexy, rain or shine. But the last thing you should do is fuck someone who's sick enough to pass out.

"Pepa, I LOVE you, and you're ALWAYS sexy, but I don't think sick fucking would-"

"Not like THAT, tonto!"

She hissed, throwing a used tissue in his direction.

"I MEANT sleep with me, while you lay ON me."

"...Pepa I'm not sure if you've seen how big your husband is. I'm going to crush you."

She raised her nose at him, huffing angrily.

"Fine, go then. A husband that won't cuddle his wife."

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

She tried to kick him, but she was so weak, she missed him completely.

"Go. Leave me to suffer and wither."

So his wife was a bit of a drama queen, at least when she was sick. He sighed, and sat up a bit.

"Shirt on or off?"

"Cabrón, when have I EVER said on?"

"...literally never. Even at your babyshower. Which I still don't understand-"

"Shirt."

He held his hands up in defeat, and took off his shirt. He was confused on how to do this in a light way, when she lost her patience. She grabbed his hand, and just YANKED him. He fell on top of her with a decent amount of force, and he was about to apologize, when her hands wrapped his head, and she sighed. It was the first sound she made today that didn't sound angry or tired, or aching.

"I'm...not hurting you?"

"If I was hurt, you'd be on the floor. I like this. Why, are you uncomfortable?"

She was so warm. Her skin was so soft. He could even hear her heart beat like this. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her just a little squeeze.

"Not at all. This is...nice. I mean I like you laying on me but this is. Nice. I like it when you're under me."

"Hmm. I like this too. You're big and heavy and it makes me feel...seguro. Like nothing can hurt me."

He kissed the skin underneath him, humming in content.

"Nothing will ever hurt you. Ever. If it makes you feel safe, we can stay like this forever."

"What about the kids?"

"Dolores is an adult, Camilo acts like hes an adult, and Antonio...can be raised by wolves. Little wolf boy."

That made her snort, and it was a beautiful sound.

"No, not the wolves. I'd hate to cut holes in his pants."

"Why would you have to do that?"

"You know. For the tail."

He looked up at her, trying not to snort himself.

"No he's a wolf boy, not a wolf. Why would he need clothes if he's a wolf?"

"Do you WANT our son to be an outcast?"

"...Pepa?"

"What?"

"Marry me all over again."

She rolled her eyes at him, letting her head fall back as she got more uncomfortable under his weight.

"Idiota. I'd gladly do it again. My own blanket, wherever I go."

His thumbs slowly rubbed at the skin, savoring the small woman underneath him. Truth be told, he WOULD stay like this forever, cuddling her and protecting her from the world.

"Anytime you want, Pepa. Even if you're sick. I love you. I love you so much, I'm happy to just know someone as wonderful as you exists, and-"

He looked up at her, realizing she was asleep. He softly smiled at his sick baby, knowing she was out for good. He closed his eyes, about to join her, when he damn near jumped at a guttural snore. It was like sleeping with a goddamn lumberjack. He had been married to her for years, and he STILL jumped by those damn snores.

He could never get sick of his wife.