#what can i say? he simply has been making me feral lately

[idontactuallyremember]

Regarding the post about Thanos’s full back tattoo: imagine not having seen him in so long since he’s been recording songs and touring but he finally comes back home to you and you get a glimpse of the tatt after he takes off his jacket when he gets in. You’re SHOCKED but you’re like “does it go all the way down your back” and he’s all smirky and cocky and shit like “yeah, why princess, you wanna see” and you’re all “if you don’t strip rn…” and take your time admiring (and maybe licking and kissing all along that tattoo to show Thanos just how much you’ve missed him) 🥵🥵 someone write this out pleaaaase 😩

Hi, Anon. This is amazing and I wanted to write this so bad, I hope you like it <3

Notes/CW: Your famous boyfriend Thanos has been busy & you haven't seen him in a few months, SFW, flirting sexually but it's mostly playful fluff, Fem!reader, the games never happened you're just in love, You match his energy so good, (me finding out about his back tattoo is making me somewhat feral)

You wake up at 2am to your phone ringing; buzzing above your head.

You rub your eyes, the light from your phone giving you an instant headache. You try to decipher who could possibly be calling you this late.

"Thanos <3 is calling..." your phone screen burns into your eyes.

You swipe right, instantly.

"Hi, Princess," Thanos says, a certain excitement in his voice, "What'ya doing?"

"Was sleeping... what are you doing, baby?" you say, groggily.

"I just got done with a show but that doesn't matter. Look outside."

"What did you do now, huh?" You tease, still a little sleepy.

"Just look outside, brat." He teases back, then, sincerely: "Sorry I woke you."

"It's okay, you think whatever is outside will make up for it?" You scramble your robe on and look outside.

"I'd like to think so." He says, locking eyes with you immediately through the curtains.

"Su-bong, you fucking didn't! Come inside." You exclaim. Even in the dark, you knew it was him. You can't help the smile on your face. After all, it's probably been a few months since you saw him last.

"Wait before I do... I have a really serious question to ask you..." He says, his tone changing. Even from across the street and through the window his demeanor seemed to change.

"What's up, baby?" You ask.

"Can you push your tits up against the glass, pleasee-"

You hang up the phone and playfully give him the middle finger.

He flips you off back and makes his way to the front door. Even though he's your boyfriend, butterflies flittered in your stomach and chest anyway.

Meeting him downstairs, you open the door just as he's walking up.

"Fuck, c'mere, Princess." He says, slamming the door behind him as he grabs you, attacking your neck in wet kisses.

"I missed you so fucking much." He mutters breathlessly.

"I missed you, too. How did you even manage to get here?" You question.

"The show I played wasn't so far from here, I needed to see my girl." He pouts.

Peeling off his jacket he adds, "You always keep it 100 degrees in here, why?"

"So I can watch you undres-" you start, but get distracted. A tattoo- a new one- has you shocked for a moment. It starts at his middle finger, just below his nail bed, and trails under the sleeve of his shirt.

"Fuck..." you say, "when'd you do this?"

"You like it, princesa?" He smirks, complying when you grab his arm.

You notice more, too- on his neck.

"Fuck, yes. I love it." You say, trailing your nails down his neckline, "does it go down your back?"

"Mmm... why?" He smirks, "You just missed seeing me shirtless, huh?"

"C'mon, take it off." You say, starting to pull it over his head already.

His shirt thrown aside, you quickly admire his abs and focus on the tattoo.

Simply: 'Thanos' written in neat Korean letters.

"Little conceited, no?" You joke but your cheeks burn seeing the perfectly intricate lines across his muscular back.

He turns to face you- surely with a smartass comeback- but sees your flustered expression and he smiles, arrogantly.

"So on a scale of 1 to 'let's-go-break-our-bed', how would you rate the tattoo? Because right now you look like you're gonna jump on me." He says, sarcastically.

"Maybe a 9? It's a nice bed." You joke.

"Shut up." He says and swiftly grabs you, "Let's go upstairs."

Once you're in the bedroom, he throws you on the bed and lays next to you on his stomach.

The moment you start kissing up his back, he melts into the comfort of Home- the comfort of you.

You trace the lines with your fingers- with your tongue- up his back, down his arms, and up his neck into his hairline. You suck gently on the sexiest parts of his back and neck, leaving hickies.

You don't know how long you admire him but, eventually, Thanos snores softly into a pillow. You crawl next to him and pull a blanket over you both and before you know it, you're fast asleep.

[stardustvanfleet]

hiiii my gresties….. i hope everyone’s having a good day!!! i’m in the midst of a 14 hour workday…. worked my first job 9-5 and now i’m off to my second from 5:30-11 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 please send good vibes my way….. right now the joshdown is what’s getting me through!! ily all sm

[bakugoushotwife]

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

a/n: here is the finale to part one!! thanks to everyone being patient with me to get this part out, i've been going thru it lately but we got her done. i haven't proofread everything but will as it goes live, just kinda wanted to put it up. this shit gets dark so proceed at your own risk. cw: gore, blood, murder, major character death, infanticide, smut, cowgirl, pregnancy journey, serious graphic descriptions, etc. dead dove do not eat. series masterlist jjk masterlist part two

he grips your forearms, pink lips parted in disbelief. his touch is gentle, eyes gleaming with emotions yet unnamed. “again. say it once more.” he whispers, seemingly searching for the physical signs already as his eyes dance around your stomach. 

“i’m pregnant, the healer confirmed it–our heir. he or she is coming!” you laugh in astonishment, a gentle warmth blushing across your cheeks. he pulls you against his broad chest within the next second, a myriad of thoughts occurring in his brain all at once. his wife–his queen, was with child. he was no longer the man he was cursed to be. he was loved by you, and would soon become a father to a loving baby of his own creation. a monster he may be, but solitude had lost its grasp on him, and he would never feel guilt for his monstrous ways now. not with a family to protect. a family. ryomen sukuna—head of a family. 

you nuzzle your face against his neck, and his heart physically aches with the emotion he stores in it for you. surely this is something much stronger than love. no one could ever feel as strongly as he does. he sighs softly. comfortably, and sets you back on your feet with a soft chuckle that rumbles inside both of your chests. 

“what wonderful news—outstanding news, my love…you have made me the happiest man...what a gift..” he says in a voice nearly foreign to you with its overwhelming gentleness. it conflicts with the look in his eyes. it’s hard to describe—the love and adoration he’s always held is there, with something else lying beneath. a certain icy cruelty that you know he’s capable of—a primal protectiveness. yes, gone were the days of leaving you in the throne room or bed chambers by yourself to be waited on by uraume and the rest of the staff. no, no. he would be attached to you like a second soul, as if you weren’t growing one already. 

he just couldn’t bear to risk it. especially as the building plans commenced and more strangers would be around his wife than ever before. his nerves were…heightened so to speak. you didn’t want to call it paranoia, as you can understand exactly where his concerns come from. he’s never cared for anyone. not even a fucking little bit, and now he has an entire universe of feelings stored inside of one person—seperate from himself. it’s terrifying. it’s vulnerable in ways he hates to admit, for any one of his enemies that knows of your existence knows exactly how to break him apart. all the sorcerers he’s wronged, all of the families of those he has personally extinguished—they all have a way to enact revenge. they all have a clear path to ripping his heart out of his chest, and it’s a fate worse than death. even the thought of you falling into enemy hands is enough for sukuna to erect gates with enchantments and veils, laying traps of his own mind’s invention all around the palace grounds to ensure your home remains a free territory for you and his baby. 

his baby. his son or daughter growing fruitfully within you. only three people know of the baby’s existence—you, him, and uraume. and this is how the list would stay until it is simply unavoidable. he will cater to your every need himself; and no one else should enter within ten feet of you unless they want to lose their heads. he makes this much clear, announcing the decree to his castle staff. of course they’re curious as to why they can no longer serve their queen–but any questions they have die on their tongues with the feral tone of commands from their king. 

you think it’s all a bit much, but you wouldn’t say anything against his wishes. this is what helps him rest peacefully at night, what makes him believe you are totally and wholly safe. besides it’s more relaxing this way. the only hustle and bustle is about the additions to your home, no servants nagging you about the certain tinctures and powders you should be taking to support your baby through the pregnancy; nor them cooing about how dominant and healthy king sukuna’s offspring would be. no. it’s just the two of you and the moment. the first few months were rocky—much more negative than positive with your symptoms and struggles. your husband was a rock amidst the nausea-inducing waters. he may not be inspirational or motivational in his words, and he may not know simply from instinct alone how to comfort you; but do not mistake that for neglect. he is ever curious, and attentive. he can tell when you need something…he just needs you to help him along as to what for the first few weeks into this beautiful journey. 

he’s quick to provide you a trash receptacle or to rush after you as you run into the bathroom to puke. he’s the one holding a cool rag to the back of your neck and keeping your hair out of the way, the sound of your seemingly endless retching tugging at his heart. he learns that the term “morning sickness” is really a lie—you’re sick at all hours of the day. he nearly feels guilty over your suffering, keeping you hydrated on water and coconut milk for extra nutrients. you aren’t keeping much food down, but he tries to make sure you’re offered plenty of it. going into the second month of your weak exhaustion and pathetic puking, he’s growing more than concerned. 

“i’m calling the doctors, my queen is suffering far too much.” he announces, using a rag to dab the sweat off your forehead as the toilet receives yet another round of your stomach’s contents. another hand fashions your hair into some sort of ponytail, and the other two stabilize your hips. you shake your head, leaning back to sit on your haunches as you wipe your mouth. 

“it’s perfectly normal. i’ll enter the second trimester soon, hopefully it will stop then.” you say, chipper. he finds it confusing how you can clearly feel so bad but pretend otherwise. your child isn’t even showing in you yet, you only look as if you’ve had a large dinner. and while you’re ridiculously adorable in this slightly swollen state, he’s left mystified by how such a small babe can disrupt everything about your body. your appetite increases and wanes depending on the day, you cry over a fallen bird's nest and then threaten to light him aflame. it’s a lot for him to wrap his head around, as someone who’s never really been well versed in emotions to begin with. but he is patient above all else—and that’s just fine with you. he’s there for every mood swing, he lets you beat on his chest and yell at him–he lets you crawl into his lap and hold yourself close, to giggle and kiss all over his face only to whisper how horny you are. 

at least that much is the same. if anything, it’s increased. and while sukuna has never been a delicate man, nor a submissive one—he is a somewhat changed man. his wife–only for his wife. he can tame the desire to absolutely fuck you apart for the sake of your growing child—he doesn’t know what exactly your body can handle at this time, despite what he may crave. but…you know what you can handle, don’t you? he…can allow you to use his body in this way too. it’s the least he can do, really. he knows he’s not the most caring man in the universe. frankly, he’s spent many a time thinking you deserve someone much more loving and doting than he. but you bask in the love that does flow from him, and your body is being used to grow his offspring. so yes, he clears the throne room of contractors and servants and architects making last minute adjustments, adding rooms fit for children to thrive in and his family to gather in; all because his precious wife made an appearance demanding his attention. yes, he lets you position yourself against his lap and rut against him at your own pace, grinding on his thigh while you beg for his hands to toy with your tits. 

“please–i need more, my king~” you pout, pawing at his wrists, dragging them up to your chest.he finds you enchantingly adorable, and this neediness is such a good look on you. not being able to throttle you nearly makes his bones ache, but he uses his lower set of hands to guide your hips over his defined thigh–his top set of hands giving into his sweet wife’s desires. 

and he always knows exactly how to touch you. he kneads at your breasts, the sore fat of your tits melting into his hands so perfectly you hiss and let your head fall back, rolling across your shoulders at just the simple enjoyment of his fingers tweak at your swollen nipples. he loves how sensitive you’ve become, how your brows pinch together and your cheeks darken the closer you get to soaking your panties. he knows you’ll plunge yourself on his cock over and over again–letting him coat your insides with the seed that’s already taken root in your gorgeous little womb. 

“of course. my naughty little queen can’t sleep without her husband’s cock pressing into her?” he coos, the words so taunting but so loving at the same time. you howl with excitement, ripping his pants down after several seconds of effort, your animalistic growls of need so pleasing to his ears and ego. you take as much of his cock inside as you can, thighs tightening at the effort. 

“mm–nuh uh, can’t help it–just need you all the time!! ‘s your fault–you did this to me!” you pout, bottom lip swollen from the amount of times your teeth have dug into it. your belly, just barely bloated with the sign of pregnancy, just glistens in the candlelight of his throne room, everything about you was calling out to him—as always. he doesn’t know why the sensation still surprises him every now and again. so he helps you, hands on your waist to help lift you up and down along the shaft of him, watching your face contort and ease with bone-deep pleasure. “oh, yessss~” 

your hands scramble to hold something, his wrists, his chest–anything with purchase as your orgasm shakes through your entire body. he only uses your tight walls for a few more lengthy strokes, erupting thick white ropes that paint your insides in the best way–the way that makes your legs tremble and buckle, so spent from your attempts at riding him that you’re leaning into his chest and closing your eyes to sleep. this has been your routine for about three weeks now, not that he minds. 

but the second trimester…oh how golden. this was the first time that sukuna really understood the beauty of pregnancy. with all of the nights of puking and bad sleep and weird cravings and mood swings and the list goes on—he was wondering what exactly was the big glow with babymaking aside from your sex drive and the overall concept that you get a baby out of it. but now, as your bump develops and grows everyday, as your energy evens out somewhat and all you want to do is nest and decorate for the baby—he gets it. uraume brings bigger robes so you may dress comfortably, and sukuna passes along your every demand to the builders. the baby’s nursery is being painted by hand, the crib by the finest carpenters that japan has to offer. sukuna wouldn’t be sukuna of course unless he threatened to kill every worker on the project if they spilled the news of what they were working on to a single soul. 

the fields outside the palace have become your favorite place to be. you enjoy laying in the sun, plucking the wildflowers that grow on the hillside and weaving them into a flower crown, and watching the animals sprint around in the treeline below. sukuna would watch from the castle some days, letting you bask in nature under his careful oversight. some days he joins you, listening to you prattle about the birds that like the sugar water you lay out. the peace that you bring to his life is something astounding. he never would have imagined himself enjoying listening to someone so bubbly and optimistic. you have always been a light he had never known existed, and he sees you as a literal angel. the way the summer skies cast a glow down on you—glowing up your hair and skin and highlighting that beautifully round bump. 

this day, he sits outside with you–watching you lean back, robes unbound to drink in some more sun. he’s proud that he’s able to make it such a safe place for you–your happy place. you can hear him approach, a joyful grin spreading across your face as you look over at him. 

“the baby knows you’re here~” you coo, supporting the underside of your rounded bump. the king lays beside you, a smirk on his face at the greeting. “say hello to your spawn.” you add, snickering. and dutifully so, he leans in and places his hand on your stomach. the broad paw spans most of the stretched skin, life and wonder sparkling in his ruby red eyes as he feels it, the repeated soft flutters against his palm make his heart skip a beat. his son or daughter is so active, and very strong. and they seemingly feel him, like you claimed. they like his voice and his touch, his gentle brush of his hand inspiring another tirade of kicks that send you giggling. 

it just makes things that much more real for him. his child is on the way, halfway grown already. he can’t wait to meet them, to see if they resemble you or himself more closely, to have a mini-him to take under his wing and entrust his philosophy to. he can’t wait to watch you be a mother either. just what his limited imagination can conjure up warms the coldness in his chest. the idea of you swirling around a sweet nursery with the baby smiling with gums and lips, cheeks rosy from being so loved. 

“hello, little baby of mine.” sukuna hums, leaning down to kiss below your navel. 

you smile sweetly, eyes crinkled in the corners. “we need to think of names!” you hum, running your fingers through his hair. it soothes you to have him so near, your protector and greatest advocate. he hums at the feeling, resting his chin on your breastplate, right before the swell of your stomach. those eyes melt you every time, especially when they look at you with such fondness. 

“their name will come to us when we look upon their face. no need to rush.” he hums softly, rubbing your stomach absentmindedly. he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. 

“i suppose so, but i would like to call them something aside from the baby.” you hum, twisting the pale pink strands around your fingers, wondering if your child would get this uniquely colored hair. 

“then let’s call them ayame, for now.” he decides, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a smile. the word has so much significance in love and beauty, and he knows it’s the right one to bestow upon his unborn. 

“you’re so sweet, i love it. ayame–for now.” you hum once more–nodding your agreement, resting your hand atop his own. before long, the sun begins to set and the king ushers you inside for dinner—relieved your appetite returned. 

everyday after that was just as beautiful. you worked tirelessly daily to craft ayame’s clothes, knitting in neutrals to ensure the pieces would suit either gender of child. your excitement grows with your stomach, and so does sukuna’s protectiveness. you hardly use the bathroom by yourself. your pregnancy is now common knowledge amongst the castle staff–widespread across your kingdom. so naturally, sukuna is even more scrutinous of anyone coming in and out. the construction is nearly complete, but enemies could be lurking anywhere. and no one is more aware of that than your husband. 

he’s more than relieved whenever the construction reaches its final days as you’re about to pop. he still hovers, don’t misunderstand, but he can take a breath. any day now, you’d go into labor and the heian era’s new prince or princess would make their grand entrance. the nursery was fully prepared and the doctors and midwives had arrived as the construction workers were leaving, everything was in place. 

imagine his surprise when he’s thrown out of sleep in the middle of the night—one of his veils have been breached. moments later, uraume rushes into the room. 

“my king–the perimeter guards caught someone…they had weapons. ordered to kill the queen.” they pant, out of breath from hustling here so quickly. and with that one sentence, his every worst fear is confirmed. people are after you—they want to kill you. kill his baby and his wife in one fell swoop. 

he sees red. 

he looks over at you–sleeping deeply beside him. he can’t disrupt your rest, not when the baby will be coming so soon..so he leans over to kiss your lips softly before following uraume to the throne room to torture the infiltrator that thought they could get away with such a thing. 

he doesn’t think he’s ever been this bloodthirsty before, either. love like this makes you do crazy things–feel crazy things. the perpetrator is being held on his knees, head forced forward to look at the floor. 

“my servants tell me that we’ve caught a roach. let’s hear it.” he spits, intent on torturing this cretin slowly—send a message to everyone else that tries to come after his family. that if you attack—you will be dismembered and scattered across the continents with the breeze. 

“or maybe you just caught the fall guy, and you didn’t stop anything at all.” the man smirks boldly at the king, a shuffle upstairs catching his attention. 

you wake up when the last traces of your husband’s warmth has dissipated. you blink awake, feeling around in his spot to confirm his absence. huffing, you roll to your back, seeing his shadow shuffle around the room. “my love? are you having trouble sleeping tonight?” he’s been known to periodically wake up and patrol the place to make sure that nothing’s slipped past his other defenses. 

“notcha love—you can’t bring that demon to life, whore.” 

and those are the last words you ever hear. 

there’s a slash across your gut, deep. you can hear your blood splatter on the ground—similar to what you had always imagined your water breaking to sound like. you don’t even feel the pain, really. just the fear. just the realization—that you’re too late, that all sukuna had done was for nothing. you’re dying. you’re going to die today–here. alone, and scared, the slash that comes next nearly decapitates you, and you can’t use your technique. you never even got out of bed, only your legs had touched the floor. you hadn’t even been able to stand before they slaughtered you. 

the baby…the baby is gone just as grotesquely as you are–pulled from the gash in your midsection to fight these grown men on their own. ayame was a girl. and she was suffocated before her eyes ever opened, blood strewn about the room. 

the two murderers flee before sukuna makes it to the top floor, able to cascade a rope out of the window and sneak right out, now that all of the security is distracted.  

seconds later, he throws the door open. he nearly sprints forward to check on you–your form visible on the bed. but as he gets closer, he slips. his feet slide on something wet, warm—and he knows. he knows he’s lost the only person that ever mattered. his heart pounds faster as the staff rush in with the candles–revealing the gruesome scene. 

he sobs. it’s a foreign feeling, crying. he had only felt this once before—when he knew he was going to be a father. that was certainly more pleasant than…this. you’re gone. his light–his eternal sunshine…slaughtered like cattle on his bed. you’re gutted, the scent of iron finally hitting his senses. had he been in shock before? is that why he didn’t immediately notice? your head is barely attached to your neck—eyes wide open with horror, mouth hung open to scream. there’s so much blood. dripping out of your mouth, gushing over your chest and out of your abdomen–soaking your pretty lavender nightgown. he reaches for you, emotions heightened to levels left undocumented. that’s when he sees—his eyes focusing on the lifeless lump that was his baby daughter. he reaches for her too–little ayame. he cradles his girls to his body, absolutely wailing. his body spikes in temperature—cursed technique going haywire. he’s inconsolable. his cursed energy is spiking to heights unknown, body shifting—growing larger–rage flowing like a new source of energy all on it’s own. his soul is shattering, twisting and knotting up in his body–heart aching like never before. it was one mistake—he left for two seconds, to let you sleep and now you are gone forever. his baby is dead—his wife…he’ll never speak to you again. never feel your hands on his skin or the warmth of your kiss. he can’t go on like this—no. he has no desire to live. 

the love of his life, his first born child—ripped away from him in an instant. all the peace and happiness and joy you showed him existed has turned into the deepest and darkest personal hell he has ever known. he looks around him—even more blood than ever before. his technique—it killed everyone. he can’t find it in himself to consider it again, too focused on the mangled mess they made of his queen. he will avenge you—he will murder everyone in his path until someone can put him out of this misery. until then–he will take every other soul out of this world. if he can’t be happy–if he doesn’t get to live this life in peace–then no one else will either. 

the entire castle is consumed with the raw force of his cursed energy, shattered in an instant. as if he was a natural disaster in and of himself. perhaps maybe now he is…for he is no longer a man. ryomen sukuna never was quite just a man–the king of the heian era. but now, he is the king of something else. of all things bad and evil—of all the things that can help him enact revenge. the king of curses.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t  @alastors-radio  @alltimenogoaway-blog  @tragedyofabrokensoul @gojosukuna2268  @hannas16  @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath @pelicanpizza  @aenishas @satsuk-jjk @catobsessedlady @gucci-basura @eiaaasamantha @asukahiriko @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @celena-alanze

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hold it - pt 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 2283

Rating: +18, absolutely NSFW, and please mind the tags

Warnings/Tags: pi$$ kink, smut, pwp, reader has no description other than having breasts and vagina (pic in the banner is just here for the mood), Joel has a dirty mouth (are we even surprised? lol), swearing, pet names (mostly baby), slurs (slut, whore), Joel calls you his pissy slut, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better irl!), slight degradation, soft!dom Joel, sub!reader, cream pie, panties sniffing and “stealing”, orgasm/bladder control, hair pulling, praise kink, as explained in part 1 they’re not a couple, they just fuck, again I’m ovulating and feral so here’s another thing entirely written with my cunt 🔥

As usual, English is not my first language, I have no beta and I tried to edit as best as I can, If you find any errors please forgive me.

Part 1

Just skip it if this is not your kind of thing, thank you very much.

Hope you’ll like it!

You leave work at 6, catch the bus as it was about to leave. Joel expects you at 6:30 and you know he doesn’t like it when you’re late. Everything was fine until the bus was stuck in traffic. You groan, looking out the window at a seemingly endless line of cars and then up at the leaden sky and pray it won’t start raining.

Ten minutes later you are losing hope. The rain begin to pour down and the traffic show no signs of letting up. Joel must be furious, you think. And what is worse is that you feel a weight on your bladder. You have to pee. You try to control your breathing, to not think about it, you try to concentrate on the music you are listening to but it’s no use. The rocking of the bus gently stimulates your cunt and every bump in the road makes you think you are losing control.

The sound of the rain doesn't help even.

You arrive at Joel’s at 7:00, darting through the bus doors, running to the end of Joel’s street, banging on the door as you press your thighs together, half tempted to put a hand between your legs if it weren’t for the people walking by.

Joel throw open the door and bark “Where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry, it was the traffic, I swear. And that damn bus! Please forgive me”.

Joel is about to reply that he doesn’t give a damn about your apology but then he notice how desperately you are clenching your legs and his mouth instantly twist into a sly smile “Do you have to pee?”

You feel your cheeks burning, he noticed it immediately. You were hoping to be able to sneak into the bathroom with an excuse because you know damn well what is going to happen. And you feel like your bladder is too full and stimulated by the slow pace of the bus to have time for that. You are done for.

“Please, Joel,” you mutter, looking down at the wood of his porch. Joel doesn’t let himself be moved, instead he smiles even more mischievously than before in front of you, mortified as you try to find a way to convince him to let you use the bathroom.

He steps away from the door and motion for you to come in, closing the door behind you, but when you try to run to the bathroom he stops you by grabbing your arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Joel, please!” Your voice come out squeakier and more high pitched than you intended but at that point you don’t care, you just want to let go and if you have to beg to do that you’ll do it.

“Please,” you repeat, pouting and giving off your puppy dog ​​look.

“No,” he simply replies.

Is he going to make you wet yourself in his living room?

“You’ll do something for me first, since you arrived late and then - maybe- I’ll let you go”

You’re shaking from the weight on your bladder but he’s adamant.

“Get down on your knees”

You look at him with wide eyes babbling “Joel I can’t”

“Sure you can. Unless you don’t want to play anymore. In that case you know what to say and I’ll stop right now. You remember the safe word?”

“Yes” you breath

“Do you want to say it now?”

You think about it for a moment. No, you don’t want to. It’s a kind of torture but you’re excited. You can’t deny how your pussy is throbbing right now, clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt to hold back the pee.

“No”

Joel looks pleased, his darker than usual eyes looking at you with lust “Good girl. Kneel down”

You kneel down obediently before him, eager to have what he wants to give you.

“You are so beautiful when you have hunger in your eyes.”

He smiles at you, cupping your cheek with his hand, and you lean in.

Your breathing is calming a little, even though you still feel the pressure in your lower abdomen it gets a little bit better now that you’re relaxed.

Joel makes you feel comfortable, you know he would never do anything without your consent.

The sound of his belt unbuckling is delicious in your ears, you lick your lower lip in anticipation.

He’s gorgeous, intoxicating, charming in a way you never experienced before.

And you love playing games with him.

His cock pops out of his boxers, hard, a small drop of precum slipping from his tip.

“Suck it” he orders.

You bring your lips closer to his cock, feeling your bladder begging you to empty it, it's a very strong tingling that sends jolts to your clit.

You squeeze your legs, contract your pelvic muscles, you have no choice but to try to send Joel to the edge as quickly as you can.

You love sucking Joel's cock.

It's thick, hot, uncut and tasty…fuck, it's the best you've ever had.

You take it in your hand and start from the base, your tongue flat all the way to the tip and then you swirl around it.

In a second all you think about is its musky taste, its swollen vein, its angry red tip demanding attention.

Joel grunts “mmm yes, my perfect little slut, take it”

He stares into your eyes smirking as you tease his mushroom with little cat licks and then you take it in your mouth, all you can until it poke at your throat. You stay still, just nestling it in your mouth, heavy on your tongue, until gag reflex hits you and you pull out with a lewd pop.

Your tongue slides over the underside of his cock licking at his frenulum, then you move down to his engorged vein and back at his tip, sucking as hard as you can and stroking the base with your hand at the same time.

Joel keeps praising you. “You have to pee so bad, right? Look at you, my pissy whore, holding it so good, sucking my cock like a champ”

His voice is a hoarse growl sending goosebumps all over your skin, your clit is pulsing between your legs and your bladder hurt so hard you think you’re about to pee right there on his dining room floor.

You squirm on your knees, continuing to suck his tip like a lollipop, bobbing up and down on his shaft, he took a fistful of your hair pulling you down until his end touch the back of your throat again.

You shut your eyes at the sudden sensation of your mouth so full of his cock but he’s not happy with that.

He tugs at your hair “eyes on me, pissy slut”

You inhale deeply through your nose, trying to relax your throat, and return your gaze to him. He pumps into your mouth mercilessly, holding you tightly by the back of your head, his fingers buried in your hair.

At this point your quivering bladder doesn't even bother you anymore, you're drunk on his cock.

There's a smug, lecherous smile painted on his face as he pulls out from your lips. “Go on, baby”

You take it back in your hand, greedily sucking the tip with all the breath you can muster.

Your hand moves frantically up and down his length completely coated in your saliva, throbbing hard beneath your fingers.

You suck it obediently and obligingly “Fuck, you’re such a good slut for me” his eyes glassy and his lips curved into a smirk.

“It’s enough”

You pull out and look at him confused “you didn’t come yet” His cock is incredibly engorged and swollen, you don’t even know how he managed to stop.

You held the pee until the end and you don’t even know how you made it but now you feel the strong urge again at the bottom of your belly.

“Joel…can I go now?” you plead

And he shakes his head “I don’t think so”

“Please” you whine

“See baby, I figured out other plans for you while you were sucking me off like the perfect slut that you are” he pulls up his jeans without buttoning them, leaving the belt hanging at the sides

“What plans?!” You sounds distraught and you know it.

He doesn't answer you, he makes you get up and picks you up, bridal style, and carries you to his room.

He dumps you on the bed and you feel a drop of pee escape, you desperately clench to make it stop.

He strips you of your clothes and shoe in an instant, leaving you in a pair of red lace panties and matching bra.

You’re holding with all you have but your bladder starts protesting again, pushing you almost to the edge of losing it.

You bite down your bottom lip at the tingling sensation while Joel roam at your body like a man starved.

“Red huh? So fucking hot” and then he notices the large damp on the front of your panties. “Mmm so soaked, already. You’re going to drip all over me soon”

He takes off your panties and brings them to his nose inhaling your scent “fucking sweet” and then puts them in his pocket while winking at you.

He takes off his boots and clothing all very calmly while you are wriggling on his bed, trying to find a position that doesn't make you feel the urge to pee. It's impossible. You cross your legs and hope he will hurry up and do whatever he wants to do.

“I’’m going to fuck that pissy cunt so nicely, baby and you’re going to be good and hold it until I say so, am I right?” he says while he’s fisting his shaft in his hand.

You nod, completely defeated by his dirty mind.

He sits on the bed and orders “on my cock, now”

You straddle him swallowing air, feeling your pussy adjusting around his cock, one inch at the time, it’s overwhelming the way you’re trying to control your bladder while he’s stretching your other hole.

“Yes, baby, just like that, taking me so well” he purrs.

“Fuck, I can’t” you cry “Please, Joel”

“You can and you will” he replies dryly pushing you onto him holding your hips.

He’s balls deep into you now “See? You made it”

You moan as he commands “Move. Drain my cock, baby, I know you can”

You start moving up and down, slowly, you're so wet and needy you could come right away. Your pussy is sensitive, overstimulated and aching to swallow it all.

You need a release so bad it starts taking over your mind, little beads of sweat tickles down you cleavage as you desperately bounce on Joel's cock.

“Good girl” he’s babbling “such a good girl for me -fuck- baby go on like that”

His fingers are duggin in the tender skin of your hips, holding firmly against him, your hands clinging to his shoulders.

He seems mesmerized by your tits bouncing against his chest while you can't help but stare down at your overstimulated pussy.

You're praying that your bladder will hold up until he gives you permission.

Your clit rubs repeatedly on his sweat-slicked strip of hair just above his cock giving you an extra thrill that is about to send you over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m about to lose it, this is - fuck - it’s insane Joel!”

“Hold it a little more for me, pissy slut, I’m almost there”

He takes a handful of your butt cheeks and groans so deeply it almost scares you.

“I can’t- fuck- Please Joel” you wail.

His cock is hitting you just right, kissing that little spot inside you that makes you feel like you're about to burst.

It sinks into you relentlessly and you finally feel it explode against your walls.

“Here we go baby, come! Come and pee on my cock”

You finally let go and the sensation is inexplicable, you’re full of his cock while a river of warm pee is gushing out of you.

You feel stuffed to the brim and empty at the same time.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you relax all your sore muscles and let yourself be taken over by an orgasm that makes you feel like you're falling into the void.

You cry out his name again and again until your voice break and you can’t do nothing more than clinging to the nape of his neck quivering like a possessed person.

He strokes your back while you hid your face in the hollow of his neck panting loudly.

You’re both soaked, sweaty and out of breath.

“You did so well for me, you’re my perfect pissy slut, so good” he mutters.

He pulls out of you and his softening cock rests against your belly.

“Look at what we’ve done”

You look down shyly, keeping your forehead resting on his shoulder and you see his seed coming out of you placidly and smearing on his thighs mixing with your pee.

It makes your head spin.

“Fuck, Joel, you evil hunk of a man” you moan

“i know baby, i know. You like me this way though, don’t you?” He gently bites at the sensitive skin on your neck.

“We’re all sticky and filthy and I thought I was about to faint but… yeah. fuck, I loved it”

Joel chuckles, stroking your back and continuing his trail down your neck.

You always enjoy walking that fine line between desperation and pleasure, and most of all you enjoy doing it with him.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: I have nothing to say for myself. The Jummy has been making me feral for the last few days and I had to cleanse myself somehow… so I figured writing smut was the best method for that. (It makes sense to me, don’t worry about it) It starts out a little angsty with Jake being insecure, but don’t worry bc it heats up VERY quickly. As always, sorry for any typos. Also this is probably my most favorite thing that I've ever written so I hope you guys enjoy.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, body insecurity, body worship, a little bit of cockwarming if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3593

Preview: 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like him could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “Wouldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

------------------------

Admittedly, it had taken you a little while to realize that something was off with Jake – far longer than it should have, given how long the two of you have been together. But, in your defense, Jake Kiszka is a master at hiding when something is wrong. 

The first warning sign had been a few weeks ago when Jake had declined going out to his favorite steak restaurant, claiming that he was too tired and that he’d had a late lunch anyway so he wasn’t super hungry. You’d been doubtful, but the two of you stayed in for the night and Jake had distracted you beyond the point of awareness of anything other than his tongue and fingers. He'd fucked you slow and deep that night and needless to say, you’d quickly forgotten about it.

The second came during a dinner with him and his brothers. You, Jake, Sam, Josh, and Josh’s partner had gone out to a local Thai place that all of you loved. You all frequented it regularly and got the exact same dishes every time – which is why you had been confused when Jake ordered something else. You’d looked at him in shock, as did everyone else at the table, but he’d simply shrugged and said that he wanted to try something new. When the food had arrived, you couldn’t help but notice that the dish was much smaller than the one he usually got, but he seemed to enjoy it so you didn’t say anything. Again, you’d allowed yourself to forget about it. 

The third warning (and arguably the most obvious one) happened just two weeks later on an impromptu lake house trip that you all went on. Deciding to enjoy the last bit of time that they had until tours started again, Danny had suggested that you all spend the weekend swimming and hiking at the lake, just like you all used to do when you were younger. It had been a wonderful weekend, and you almost didn’t notice that anything was wrong… almost. 

The first day there had been spent hiking and goofing around inside, but your second day was always reserved for swimming. That morning, as you were changing into your swimsuit, you watched as Jake pulled on his swim trunks; nothing out of the ordinary. But what was strange was that he then put on a swim shirt, hiding his gorgeous torso from view. 

“Why are you putting that on?” You asked, grabbing your towel from where you’d hung it on the bedroom door. 

“I don’t want to get sunburned.” He said, perching his signature sunglasses on his nose. 

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’s never cared about getting burned before (much to your annoyance and worry) but he swiftly left the room. You trailed behind him, staring at his shoulders through the swim shirt and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You couldn’t tell if he was actually being weird or if you were just overthinking. 

The rest of the trip had gone completely normal, with the boys acting like literal children in the water while you relaxed and sunbathed – occasionally joining them in the lake to participate in their craziness. But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you were overthinking, you couldn’t help but worry as you watched Jake in that stupid swim shirt. 

The entire drive home you’d wanted so desperately to bring it up to him, but you weren’t even sure what you were bringing up. Distantly, all those other little warning signs tinkled like little bells in the back of your mind, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Jake was acting completely normal. So what he was too tired to go to dinner one night? And why was it such a big deal that he wanted to try a different dish at a Thai restaurant? And maybe he really did just want to avoid getting sunburnt. And sure, you and him hadn't been intimate since that night he declined going out... but a few weeks wasn't really all that long in the grand scheme of things. Besides, even though it was between tours, Jake was still almost constantly busy with something – photoshoots, interviews, spending time in the studio. He was tired from work (and so were you). Nothing to be worried about. You shook your head at yourself, willing the little ball of anxiety in your gut to go away. 

And it did. Until just two nights later, when Jake asked you to turn the light off before he fucked you. 

“What? Why?” He was looking down at you, palms planted on either side of you and his weight settled on the bed between your thighs. He had on nothing but a plain t-shirt and his boxers. 

“No reason.” He said, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. He sunk his weight back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head before diving back down to attach his mouth to your breasts, suckling and biting at the sensitive buds. His distraction almost worked. 

“Jake, no.” You said, sitting up to stare at him. “Why do you suddenly want to turn the light off while we fuck?” 

“More romantic?” His words came out as a question, but he didn’t give you time to respond as he leant back down, intent on carrying on without explanation. 

“More romantic for me to not be able to see you?” He didn’t answer, instead beginning to place hot kisses down your throat, teasing the spot that he knew you loved. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time. 

“Jake, stop. Just stop.” 

He sat back up and you stared at him, trying to read his face in the dark. 

“You and I both know you’ve been acting weird. I’m not doing anything with you tonight until you tell me what the fuck has been going on with you.” You told him, your tone leaving no space for debate. 

“How have I been weird?” He asked, his voice far too cool and smooth for it to be genuine. 

“For one, you didn’t want to go to the steakhouse the other night. You know, the one you never say no to?”

“Y/n, I was tired. And full from lunch. How is that weird?” 

“You got something different when we went and got Thai with the guys!” You said, voice raising in volume as he kept staring at you like you were crazy. 

“Okay…” He said slowly, like he was speaking to a child. “And is that a crime? Am I not allowed to order something different?” 

“No. But you love that Thai dish that you always get!” Your hands flew about madly as you spoke, all the worry that you had pushed down finally coming to the surface. “And the swim shirt, Jake. You’ve never cared about getting burnt. Like ever. Why did you start caring now? And now you want to turn the light off while we fuck!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care. You were tired of ignoring that something was wrong. You didn’t know what it was – the dots not connecting between all these events yet. But you knew in your heart that something was wrong. 

“Please, Jake. We haven't slept together in weeks... which isn't like us at all! Just tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to start making assumptions!” You had the inkling of one already, and you were praying that it was wrong. 

He stayed silent for a long moment, and the tension in the room was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. Finally, his shoulders fell and he dropped his head. His hair fell on either side of his cheeks, framing his pretty face. 

“I’ve just… put on a few extra pounds recently. That’s all. It’s no big deal.” 

You stared, mouth falling open as the horrible assumption that had been plaguing your mind since the lake was confirmed. 

“So?” You asked, genuinely at a loss over him making this such a big deal. 

“So, I need to lose them. And maybe a few more.” You hated how sure he sounded as he said the words, like he’d already given this so much thought –and he clearly has. “I should've done it years ago to be honest."

“Jake, I-” You stopped, overwhelmed and at a loss for what to say. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him; scream in his face how wrong he was for feeling so low about his body. 

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s the truth. I’ve let it get too far and I have to slim down before tour starts.”

“Why?” The question is all your brain can come up with. You want to slap yourself for that being what your brain decided to spew at him first. He sighed deeply and hung his head. 

“Because, y/n. The outfits they make for me are always open chested – and people have already made comments about my weight in the past. So I want to slim down before we start again.” 

“Jake, those people have no right to make comments about your appearance. You’ve said that yourself in the past. Why do you suddenly care now?”

“Because they’re right about this. I don’t understand why you don’t get it!” 

For a split second, his raised voice hurts you, slicing through you as he snaps at you. But you know that it’s coming from his own hurt – the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. 

“Jake,” you say quietly, “I’m confused because I think you’re the sexiest person on the planet. I love the way you look. I don’t care if you feel like you’ve put on some weight. You’re still just as sexy as you were before.” You pause, sliding up in bed so you can see him more clearly in the dark. “If I’m being totally honest, I think you’re even hotter now.” 

His eyes widen at your confession and even in the dark you can see the blush that overtakes his face. 

“You do?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. C’mere.” You beckon him to come and lay against the headboard. He complies, crawling his way up next to you and laying back. You toss one leg over his waist and settle on top of him, straddling him as you place your palms on his chest. 

“Do you know what I mean when I say ‘I love you?’” You ask him quietly. 

He nods his head. 

“I don’t think you do.” You lean your head down to press your lips softly to his for a moment before pulling away. “It means that I love all of you. Ever fucking thing about you – on the inside and on the outside.”

“But it’s embarrassing.” He whispers, eyes pinned on yours. “I don’t like being the heavier twin.” 

The phrase sounds foreign on his tongue and you realize that it's because he's quoting something – no doubt a shitty comment from some asshole who claims to be a fan. You have half a mind to slap the shit out of him. His words fill you with so much anger you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Jacob, do not EVER compare yourself to Josh. Ever.”

“But-” 

“But nothing.” You cut him off, pressing your pointer finger to his soft lips to silence him before cupping his cheek with your palm. 

“If I wanted to be with Josh or someone built like Josh, I would be. But I don’t. I want you, Jake. As you are." You shake your head at him. "You're not fat, Jake. Like at all. You literally have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

He’s looking at you with shiny eyes and you wish your words would be enough to convince him. But he’s nothing if not hardheaded, so you know it’s going to take more than a few flowery words to get him to see the truth. 

“I’m going to turn the light back on.” You say gently. “And I’m going to show you how much I love you. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He whispers, and you can practically see it as his whole body tenses beneath you. 

You reach up and turn the lamp back on, washing the room in golden light. Jake is still looking at you, his eyes wide and nervous. You give him a little smile as you settle back down on him. Forgoing anymore words, you press a feverish kiss to his neck, licking and sucking down the hollow of his throat. His breath stutters in his chest as you slide your ass downwards. His cock is soft after your conversation but you know you can get him back to where he was at the start of the night.

“I love your body, Jake. These pretty nipples.” You swirl your tongue around them, drawing a breathy moan from him. 

You reach out your arms and find his hands, laying limply at his side. You lace your fingers with his and bring his left hand to your lips, kissing his calloused fingers. “I love your hands. I love how they look when you play guitar – fast and merciless and so fucking talented. And yet they’re still so gentle when they touch me.” You slide his index finger between your lips, swirling your tongue around the digit before releasing it. “And I love the way you make me cum on your fingers. You’re better at that than anyone I’ve ever been with before.”

“Really? Better than anyone?” He asks, the whispers of his usual cocky self shining through.

“Really.” You assure him, dropping his hands to focus your attention elsewhere. “Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him, looking up at his flushed face through your lashes. 

“Yeah. Tell me.” 

“Your stomach is probably my favorite part about you.” You say, delicately trailing your fingers down his sternum and over the curve of his belly. 

He scoffs. 

“You’re just saying that.” 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not. It’s the truth, Jake. I fucking love it. I love watching the sweat drip down it while you play on stage. It makes me so fucking wet, imagining licking it off you.” You bring your mouth downwards, biting at his soft sides as your hands knead into the flesh. You suck his skin between your teeth, creating a purple mark just to the left of his belly button. “Everything about you makes me wet, but your belly does it the most.” 

As if in answer, your pussy throbs at the sight of the hickey you left there. You can see on his face that he still isn’t convinced so you slide off your panties and kick them to the side – leaving you in nothing but your tank top. You rise slightly off the bed and swipe a finger through your folds, collecting the wetness that’s pooled there. 

“See?” You say, allowing him to see your juices drip from your fingers. Wordlessly, he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around your finger, swirling his tongue to lap up your wetness. He moans at the taste of you and you pull your hand free. 

“Believe me yet?” You ask him with a sly smile. 

“Getting there.” He gives you a cheeky grin and you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at the sight. 

You give his belly one last lick before moving downwards, avoiding where his half-hard cock lies in his boxers. 

“And I fucking love your thighs.” You tell him, sliding your palms up and down them as you speak. “So thick and strong. Makes me so fucking horny.” 

You trail kisses up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and the muscles twitch as you get closer to where he wants you. 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like Josh could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “They couldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

“Y/n… fuck.” His pupils are blown wide and his breathing is heavy. Even his chest is flush with his arousal. His cock is rock hard in his boxers now, tenting the fabric – straining them so much it looks like they might burst at the seams.

“And this,” you say, finally pressing your palm to his dick. “I don’t even have the words.” He groans at the pressure and his hips shift upwards off the bed in search for more. You give it to him, sliding his underwear down and off him. His cock springs free, slapping his stomach. You spit into your hand and wrap it around him, stroking him slowly. “You have such a pretty cock, Jake. It makes me feel so fucking good. Reaches places inside me no one else can.”

He groans loudly as you pump him, and you watch in awe as his eyes screw shut in pleasure. Your mouth waters and your cunt throbs at the sight and sound of him. Deciding that neither of you should have to wait for it tonight, you rip your tank top off quickly before sinking down on him, taking in his thick cock inch by inch. You moan and whimper as he stretches you, the familiar burn feeling so good. 

“Oh fuck!” Jake groans, opening his eyes to look at you taking his cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n. Look at you.” 

You still as you sink all the way down on him. He’s watching you with dark eyes and sweat is beginning to bead on his temples. 

“Jake…” you whine, beginning to rock your hips into his. 

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He growls, gripping your hips with his strong hands, kneading his fingers roughly into your flesh. 

You rise off him almost completely, before plunging back down on him – causing the both of you to moan loudly. You set a brutal pace, slamming down on him as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. You drop your gaze downward to stare as each thrust causes movement in his soft belly, and you wail in pleasure and shock as you cum so hard you see stars. It tears through you so quickly you aren’t expecting it at all, and your movements still as waves of pleasure wash over you. When you finally come back to the world of the living, you want to be embarrassed for falling apart like that – but you can’t with the way Jake is looking at you. 

His jaw is open and his eyes are so dilated they look black. He looks like he wants to eat you alive. You both sit there, neither of you moving, as he looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. 

“Fuckin' hell.” He says, voice husky and broken.

 “Haven’t cum that easy since I was a fucking teenager.” You say, still a little embarrassed, despite his reaction.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jake confesses, flipping you over quickly so that he’s on top. 

You know he saw where you were looking when you came – he’d been staring at your face the whole time. As embarrassing as that blatant display of lust had been, you can’t help but be thankful that he saw. There’s no way he can doubt your earlier words after seeing that. 

“Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me hard.” You plead, hooking your legs around his waist and pulling him in closer to you. “Fuck me the way only you can.” The last part comes out as a whisper and his cock twitches as you say them. He plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. 

“I’ll fuck you every day until the day I die.” He says, before plunging into you again. 

There’s no delay now as he snaps his hips into yours – the force of each thrust causing your whole body to move upwards. His powerful thighs drive into you with fucking monster truck force and the sound of his skin hitting yours is loud and obscene. You rake your nails down his back, undoubtedly drawing blood as he hits that special spot inside of you that only he can. 

“Oh fuck, right fucking there. Jesus Christ!” You scream, digging your fingers into his sides and squeezing. 

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n. I’m gonna fucking cum.” Sweat drips down his neck and chest and you take the opportunity to lean upwards and lick it off him, moaning at the salty taste of him. 

“Dirty fucking girl. Jesus.” 

His thrusts are growing sloppy and erratic and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. You clench around him and the sound that falls from between his lips is practically a whine. 

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me.” 

And that’s all it takes for him to spill inside you. 

“Fuck!” He growls, sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder as he cums. The sting brings you over the edge too, and you clench around him as you cum – milking him for all he’s got. 

When the two of you finally resurface, Jake pulls out of you and collapses on the bed next to you. You turn on your side to see his hilariously fucked out expression. You giggle. 

“What?” He asks, turning his head to face you, a sweet smile on his lips. 

“Do you know what I mean now when I say I love you?”

His smile widens – his beautiful white teeth on display as he scoots closer to you. 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

He kisses you – deliberate and passionate. 

"Jake," you say as he pulls away, "if you want to lose weight for you, then I don't care. But if you're only doing it because you feel like you have to..." You trail off, heart heavy at the thought that he had been feeling so down on himself without you realizing.

He smiles at you – the widest and most genuine one he's given you all night, and he slots his lips against yours in another kiss.

“Thank you.” He says as he pulls away from you. "But I think you've convinced me that I'm good with how I am right now." Seriousness overtakes his soft expression as he looks at you. "Thank you."

“It was literally my pleasure. I love getting to worship you.” You lean your head on his shoulder and he pulls the covers up over the two of you and turns off the lamp. “All of you.”

He chuckles, and the sound rumbles in his chest where you’re pressed against him. 

“I love you too, y/n. All of you.”

---------

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vashmeryl

While watching Trigun Stampede, I ended up binging the Trigun ‘98 anime, and I will try, but no doubt fail, to articulate what it is about VashMeryl that makes me so feral, and I mean in all continuities because the themes rings true for the both of them regardless if it’s TriStamp, TriMax, or the anime.

Many people have praised Meryl’s agency in Trigun Stampede, how a lot of the plot moves because of her contribution, and I can’t help but compare this to the anime, where it was because of her that Vash has a breakthrough in how to deal with Knives (after her and Milly took the time to heal and take care of Vash, ugh, found family for the win). In both TriStamp and the ‘98 anime, Meryl is juxtaposed (contrasted? given a parallel with?) Rem. 

And in the ‘98 anime, after Vash’s battle with Knives, he finds the peace to move on, casting aside what was in a way his clutch to Rem (his red geranium coat) to come back home to Meryl and Milly. 

And I love the ‘98 anime because of the implications, that he willingly sheds his outlaw persona for a chance to live a quiet life with Meryl, Milly, and his brother. It was Meryl who gave him the hope to do that, through her words, her invitation to stay together permanently, and even through her actions in standing up for him. (Honestly, the only thing that would have made the ‘98 anime ending perfect for me is if we had Wolfwood. Which is why if Knives could survive 1/3 of the continuities, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Trigun Stampede is the continuity where Wolfwood actually gets to survive). 

Even in the manga, he makes a promise to return to her, and though he ends up quite late, he does end up making his way back to Meryl and Milly eventually.

I love how there’s a chain of influence that happens, and the parallels between the two. Rem says she had been influenced in her ideals because of the person she loved, Alex. Vash is influenced by her, and eventually Meryl is influenced by Vash to the point that she’s ready to stake her life for what he believes in, such that it becomes her ideals too. 

“You can’t save everyone, you can only be there for them.” And this really rings true for Meryl in that while she can’t save him the way Vash tries to save everyone around him, she can still be there for him, whether it’s staying and trying to help him when no one else won’t (Trigun Stampede), making a home for him to return to (’98 Trigun), or telling him to unburden himself because he’s not alone (TriMax). He’s superhuman but he gets hurt like anyone else. I love that Meryl doesn’t scoff at his ideals or tell him to stop, but just helps him in whatever way she can, the way he tries to help everyone else. She treats him not like some act of God, destruction personified, or a savior, but simply as Vash, a softie who needs a bit of help sometimes (which is why when Meryl ends up scared of him, it was heartbreaking, but again this is something she chose to overcome because her love outweighed her fear). 

But at the same time, she won’t simply wait around. Again, I love her agency. In TriStamp, she chooses to stay behind to help Vash (which was pivotal because who knows if Rem’s spirit would have been triggered if not for her voice) and in TriMax, even if it was Vash who made the promise, when he’s late, what does she do? Goes and meets him herself. 

In every continuity, she’s always aggressively chasing after him. When Vash said in the TriStamp finale that he’d keep running and running, and when it becomes quiet again, he’d settle back by humanity’s side, it sounded so lonely. 

And yet, when Vash runs, Meryl will chase after him. Even when he believes he should be alone because everyone who touches him dies, Meryl still wants to be by his side. Meryl proves over and over again that Vash is loved (in a way, to him as well) because she doesn’t ever want to leave him alone. And again, it’s such a wonderful ending in both versions (the anime and TriMax) that when Vash eventually does stop running, it’s to Meryl (and Milly) that he returns home to. 

[shadowtriovibes]

tell me anything (but don't you say he's what you're missing)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, miscommunication, pre-relationship garreth/poppy, explicit sexual content, semi-public sex, fingering, toxic bf behavior

Summary: request: “can you imagine the chaos of Sebastian and MC agreeing to go on a double date, with their own dates, to make the other jealous?? Bonus chaos if MC brings Garreth!!”

“Sebastian, what has gotten into you tonight?” you ask him.

“Me?” Sebastian asks, and then he has the audacity to laugh. “What about you?”

“What about me?!” you demand. “I’ve been nothing but polite all evening, which is more than I can say for you!”

“Oh, polite,” he drawls. “Sure. ‘You look lovely this evening, Poppy! You’re so talented with beasts, bloody brilliant, you are!’”

You’re on your way to Transfiguration when Garreth sidles up beside you on his mission.

You’ll blame Sebastian for how distracted you are at the moment. He’d begged off studying with you last night to do Merlin knows what — probably working his way through another one of those archaic magic books he’d managed to charm Scriber into letting him borrow, you think.

It had been a few days since you’d even seen him. Between tending to your N.E.W.T.-level plants in the greenhouses and Sebastian’s Quidditch practices, there had simply been no time.

If you were to be honest, it almost felt like you were being ignored.

So, when Garreth manages to pull you aside and offer you a compliment on your latest batch of Veritaserum that you’d presented for Sharp earlier that morning, it feels nice.

“Thank you, Garreth,” you murmur shyly. “That means a lot. Lately it feels like Sharp is so difficult to impress.”

“You’re a right sight better at it than me,” he laughs. “Speaking of which, I was actually thinking about offering you a sort of… trade.”

“Oh?” you ask, surprised. “What’s that?”

“Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind tutoring me in Potions before Sharp’s exam next week?” he asks hopefully. “I was thinking we could meet up for some extra practice in the evenings, and afterward I could take you to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate.”

You raise your eyebrows and clutch your books a bit closer to your chest. Is Garreth Weasley asking you to Hogsmeade on a date?

At first you think that can’t possibly be what he means. You’re with Sebastian after all, aren’t you?

( …Aren’t you?)

While you pause to consider Garreth’s offer, you remember that you’ve never heard Sebastian call you his girlfriend, nor have you ever discussed whether the two of you could date other people. Sure, you spend a lot of evenings together, and he’s traced his hands — and lips — across more of your body than anyone else. But is he your boyfriend?

You aren’t sure.

And Garreth is sweet. He’s always got a kind word to say to you whenever your potion goes awry or you struggle to learn a new charm. On top of that he’s plenty handsome, and he’s friendly in a way that makes Sebastian seem not unlike a feral cat whenever he curls up alone with one of his books instead of joining you by the fire in the common room.

“If it helps, I went to Sallow first,” Garreth explains. “I figured I should, given how close the two of you are, and he said it was perfectly fine for me to ask.”

Oh, he did, did he?

“Er… alright, yes,” you breathe. “That sounds lovely, Garreth.”

He beams brilliantly and your heart races a bit, but whether it’s from excitement or guilt, you aren’t quite sure.

Word quickly spreads around the castle that Garreth managed to snag a date with you, so you know it won’t be long until you have to answer to a certain Slytherin about the matter. In fact, when Sebastian sits down next to you the following afternoon at lunchtime, you’re quite sure that he already knows.

“Weasley? Really?” are the first words out of his mouth.

“Good afternoon to you too, Sebastian,” you sigh as you turn a page of your Charms textbook.

“What exactly are you playing at?” he asks you carefully. “Have I done something?”

“Believe it or not, not everything I do is about you,” you tell him cheekily. “I’m just helping Garreth with some of his potions techniques, that’s all.”

“‘That’s all?’” he repeats skeptically. “What about your little date, hmm? I had to hear about it from Amit, for Merlin’s sake.”

You shrug silently, and Sebastian’s jaw tenses.

“I wasn’t aware you were dating,” he grits out. “I suppose any expectation of exclusively on your end was foolish of me.”

You avert your gaze guiltily and eventually mumble, “It’s just Butterbeers, Bas. It’s not serious. Garreth is a good friend, don’t get your wand in a knot.”

“Then I’m sure you won’t mind if I bring a date of my own on Saturday?” he asks offhandedly.

You freeze, your eyes going wide. “What? Who?!”

“Poppy Sweeting,” he says innocently. “She’s a nice girl. Smart as a whip, too. Thought I’d take her for a Butterbeer or two and get to know her a little better. As it stands, I already asked her just this morning.”

You narrow your eyes at him while he meets your gaze expectantly.

“…Fine,” you eventually force out. “Honestly, I don’t even care.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Actually,” you counter, “why don’t we just make it a double date? Garreth and I, and you and Poppy.”

As far as bad ideas go, this one of yours is especially atrocious. However, once you’ve issued a challenge like that, Sebastian will feel that no choice but to meet it.

“Alright,” he says slowly. “You’re on. Saturday at seven, then?”

“We’ll see you then,” you answer, slamming your book closed and storming off, leaving your lunch unfinished.

———

When Saturday arrives, you agree to meet Garreth outside his common room.

Of course, this is mostly so you can avoid having to see Sebastian before he makes his way down to the kitchens to meet up with Poppy. However, Garreth, who is naïve to your antics with Sebastian, finds the whole thing quite charming.

“Don’t you look lovely,” he says when he steps out from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Thank you,” you demur. “I take it your Potions exam went well?”

“Passed with flying colors,” he says proudly. “All thanks to your excellent tutelage. Genuinely, I never could have done it without you.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you protest, blushing. “You’ve got a knack for potions, I’ve seen it myself.”

“I’ve a knack for ruining potions,” he corrects with a laugh. “You’re the one with the talent required to achieve an Outstanding.”

The two of you make easy conversation as you walk the winding path down to Hogsmeade. You’re unpleasantly reminded of the very first time you took this path with Sebastian several years ago, and you try to force yourself to stay in the moment with your dear friend and not think about what Sebastian is doing.

(You absolutely do not want to imagine that he’s happily holding hands with Poppy further along down the path, or that he’s perhaps pulled her aside behind one of the many trees for a quick snog as he’s done with you countless times.)

Shortly after you arrive at the Three Broomsticks, Sirona seats you at a table that seats four and brings around your first round of Butterbeers. When Sebastian joins you a few moments later, he escorts Poppy right up to the table and gentlemanly pulls her chair out for her.

You quietly seethe while Sebastian winks at you over Poppy’s head and takes his seat next to her.

“It’s so good to see you!” Poppy says brightly, eagerly taking your hand. “I’m so glad we finally got to do this.”

“M-me too,” you stammer, forcing a smile. “You look lovely, Poppy.”

She beams happily and smooths her hands across her skirt. “Thank you! I suppose it’s rather nice to have an occasion to clean up for. I was in a right state earlier, as Professor Howin had me in the Diricawl pens all afternoon.”

“You’re always offering to help with those beasts,” you observe fondly. “They must adore you so.”

“I do my best,” she answers, going slightly pink.

“Garreth,” Sebastian offers cordially. “Good to see you, mate.”

“Sebastian,” Garreth replies. “Likewise. I’ve hardly seen you outside the library in ages!”

Sebastian smiles ruefully and says, “Well, now that you mention it, I haven’t told anyone yet, but I’ve been busy preparing my application for the Auror recruitment program.”

You nearly choke on your Butterbeer, and Poppy kindly offers you her napkin.

“Auror recruitment?” Garreth asks, followed by a low whistle. “Impressive.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” you ask Sebastian directly.

“It was going to be a surprise,” he tells you simply, but you suspect the truth has more to do with his reticence to share the news until he’s been accepted.

“And?” you ask him expectantly.

He merely shrugs. “No word yet. I just sent it off this morning.”

“I’m sure you’ll be accepted, Sebastian,” Poppy says encouragingly. “You seem like an excellent candidate.”

He shrugs again and thanks her for the kind words. You attempt to hide your sullen expression behind your Butterbeer mug.

You manage to make it through the first round and the next without any real mishaps. Unfortunately, when your third mug arrives, Garreth casually drapes his arm across the back of your chair, and Sebastian gets that look on his face that you recognize as one that imminently precludes some sort of nonsense.

“Garreth,” he says slowly. “I meant to ask earlier, how did your tutoring go?”

“Quite well,” he answers happily. “I got decent marks for once, thanks to this one.”

Sebastian hums thoughtfully while you grin back at Garreth. Then he casually says, “You wouldn’t have happened to be practicing with Amortentia, perhaps? Because it certainly looks like the two of you have gotten quite close rather quickly.”

Your jaw drops, and Garreth goes red.

“N-no, just some regular antidotes,” he quickly stammers. “I wouldn’t — that’s not, um.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t,” Sebastian says easily. “Must just be your natural charm then.”

You cannot believe him.

“Sebastian, may I please speak to you for a moment?” you hiss. “Privately?”

He offers nothing in response. Rather, he simply stands up from his chair and wordlessly gestures toward the stairs behind the bar.

“I’m so sorry, we’ll just be a moment,” you mumble to Garreth as you quickly turn and make your way toward the stairs, trusting Sebastian to follow.

As soon as you round the corner, the noise from the pub downstairs drops significantly. You imagine it’s probably some kind of charm to offer Sirona’s upstairs guests a moment of respite — in fact, it’s the first time all evening that you’ve been able to hear yourself think.

Mercifully, it’s entirely empty at the moment, which means you can round on Sebastian as forcefully as you please.

“Sebastian, what has gotten into you tonight?” you ask him.

“Me?” Sebastian asks, and then he has the audacity to laugh. “What about you?”

“What about me?!” you demand. “I’ve been nothing but polite all evening, which is more than I can say for you!”

“Oh, polite,” he drawls. “Sure. ‘You look lovely this evening, Poppy! You’re so talented with beasts, bloody brilliant, you are!’”

“What’s wrong with that?” you counter. “Poppy is my friend, and she is brilliant.”

“You’re not — Merlin, it’s just…” Sebastian starts before signing frustratedly and trailing off mid-thought.

“Go on,” you insist. “Say it.”

He drags a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before practically shouting, “All the compliments, the praise, it’s like you actually want me to date her!”

You freeze as you anxiously grip the wooden railing at your side to steady yourself.

“…You could,” you say quietly, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as an excuse to turn away from him. “Poppy is lovely.”

The frustrated groan he lets out makes your knees go a little weak.

“She’s not you,” he finally admits. “I can’t… I don’t want her.”

“Then tell me,” you plead. “Who do you want?”

“You know who I want,” he says in a low voice. “You’ve known, love. I thought it was quite clear what we are.”

“Clear?” you scoff. “You’ve got to be joking. I’ve never known where we stand, Sebastian. You’re practically incorrigible one day and then the next you barely look at me. You tell me you ache for me and then you’ll tell Garreth that he should ask to court me. What was I supposed to think?”

“Wh-what?” Sebastian stammers. “I told Garreth what?!”

“He told me that you said he could ask me to Hogsmeade,” you repeat. “He said he talked to you before he even approached me.”

Sebastian looks seething mad. “That foul git, I would never have said that.”

“Garreth isn’t a liar,” you stubbornly insist. “Nor did he spike me with Amortentia, by the way.”

“I barely talk to him, when would I have—” Sebastian starts, and then he stops in his tracks again. “Hang on.”

“Here we go,” you mumble under your breath.

“Last week he asked me if it would be alright to approach you about some tutoring,” he says slowly. “Not a date, mind you.”

“Was it tutoring, or ‘tutoring ?’” you ask patiently, leaning hard into the inflection.

Sebastian quirks an eyebrow. “There’s a difference?”

Merlin’s beard, he truly is unbearably thick.

“You arse,” you grit out. “Of course there’s a difference! He meant the latter.”

“I only said that I figured you’d offer to help him study because you’re a good friend!” he counters, indignant. “If I’d known that this was his intention, I never would have encouraged it!”

“…Really?” you ask hesitantly, suddenly shyer than before as you shift anxiously in the quiet rafters of the pub. “Because I… I thought you’d told him to ask me out because you’d grown tired of me.”

For as dense as Sebastian can occasionally be, he has a knack for recognizing when you’re feeling unmoored, and he’s always quick to ground you in his arms.

“Darling,” he sighs, reaching for you with careful hands until it’s apparent that you’ll let him pull you in against his chest without a fight.

“I will never grow tired of you,” he murmurs into your hair. “And I know I’m probably a dreadful boyfriend, but if you’ll give me another chance I’ll make it up to you, however you want.”

“‘Boyfriend,’ hmm?” you ask softly. “Is that what you are?”

“…Merlin, I really am rubbish at this, aren’t I?” he laughs self-deprecatingly.

“Sebastian,” you say quietly. “You know I’m mad about you, but we have to do this right this time. If you’re my boyfriend, then be my boyfriend.”

“I swear to it,” he says as he gently sways you side to side, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “I’m all yours, love.”

You allow yourself to be held for long enough that you start to feel guilty for having abandoned your dates. Just as you’re about to suggest that the two of you go back downstairs and make some excuses, you feel his hands start to drift lower — down your sides to your hips, and then teasing at the hem of your skirt.

“Bas,” you hiss. “No.”

“Come on,” he whispers into your ear. “No one is up here, we’re all alone. Let me touch you, just for a bit?”

You whimper quietly as he backs you up against the railing. Down below you can hear the noise from the crowded pub, and you honestly can’t be sure if anyone can see you up here in the darkened rafters.

“There you are,” Sebastian mumbles as he nudges your legs apart with one of his thighs. “Good girl.”

“You’re obscene,” you gasp, whining softly when he presses two long fingers against your entrance through your thin undergarments. “…Don’t stop.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs.

Sebastian noses along your jawline until you tip your head back for him, your eyes fluttering shut as he carefully works a bruise into your skin right above the collar. You know damn well that Garreth and Poppy will spot it as soon as you return downstairs, but you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.

As he marks you up, he slips his fingers inside your panties and easily presses them into you. You let your legs fall open wider so he can work his thumb against your clit the way he knows you like.

“Sebastian,” you sigh.

“Do you think Weasley would do this for you?” he growls against your jaw. “You think he would bring you up here away from everyone else and touch you like this?”

“N-no,” you stutter.

“No, he wouldn’t,” he continues. “He’s too polite, like sweet little Poppy.”

“Be nice,” you whine.

“Maybe the two of them should give it a go,” he sneers. “Leave all the real fun to us, hmm?”

You rest your head on his shoulder while he works you over, curling his fingers to press against that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and your eyes roll back.

“After I make you come, I want you to go back downstairs with me and set things straight,” he murmurs. “They’ll know exactly what you let me do and all this will be over, just like that.”

“What about you?” you whimper. “Can I touch you first?”

“I’ll wait,” he tells you softly. “Until after, in the Undercroft. You’ll take care of me then, won’t you, love?”

Merlin, you wish he’d let you get him off now. You can feel the hard outline of his cock pressing against your hip and you wish he’d just pull it out and fill you up right here, even though Sirona would undoubtedly ban you for life.

“Bas,” you whine. “Please.”

“As much as I love how eager you are, darling,” he murmurs, punctuating his words with a particularly firm thrust of his hand, “we’ll need somewhere much more private.”

When he finally brings you off, you’re already thinking about how you’ll get on your knees for him as soon as the gate to the Undercroft shuts behind you.

He’s grinning when you eventually open your eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” you hiss.

He merely smirks and gently pulls his hand out from between your thighs, letting your messy, ruined undergarments settle back into place. You wince knowing you’ll have no choice but to wear them to go downstairs and even back to the castle.

“We ought to be off,” he says lazily. “We’ve kept our poor dates waiting long enough, I think.”

You shift your skirt slightly as you sneak back downstairs behind Sebastian. However, before either of you can rejoin the table, Sebastian pauses just around the corner and gently holds up a hand.

“Look,” he murmurs.

Across the room, you see Poppy giggling happily while Garreth demonstrates a trick with one of the pub’s napkins. He taps his wand against it and it folds itself into a plush-looking Niffler, and then a friendly Kneazle. Lastly, he wads it up himself and offers it to her with a cheeky grin, and you know from having seen him carry out the same trick during one of your tutoring sessions that he’s just told her it’s a Puffskein.

She laughs brightly and blushes, easily accepting it from him.

“Well, well,” you murmur. “Poppy and Garreth… who would’ve thought?”

Sebastian just turns around and smiles smugly at you.

“Don’t start,” you warn him. “You didn’t.”

“I absolutely did,” he beams. “Come on, love. Did you really think I had a thing for Poppy? I love you, and she’s been here for Garreth this whole time.”

Your mouth hangs open uselessly while you try to put together a witty retort, but you’re utterly at a loss for words.

“B-but it was my idea to make it a double date!” you eventually stammer.

“Was it, though?” he asks knowingly, and you simply groan in frustration.

Sebastian laughs delightedly while you follow him out the front doors of the pub, the only intelligible words coming out of your mouth being “wanker” and “unbelievable.”

But when he wraps his arm around your waist and starts to walk you back to the castle, you figure you won’t really be angry with him for long — not when he’s finally demonstrated that he actually does have a sweet side.

[our-future-is-up-to-us-2]

The Blueprint On My Mind

Another Day Of The Jackal fic because MY GOODNESS this show is NOT leaving me alone!!! I will continue to go feral!! Prepare yourselves!

This is my first 5+1 fic too, so enjoy that for what it's worth! The formatting might be a bit off because I tried to add extra spacing between each section. Let me know if that's a problem!

Otherwise, enjoy the fic, and feel free to go feral with me, too!

Word Count: 2.4K

Relationships: Charles "The Jackal" Calthrop/Rasmus

Warnings: None

1.

Every morning, Peter wakes up and has something to check. An email, a transaction account, a dodgy website, a weapons blog. 

He sneaks out of bed sometimes, just to make sure he can get some work done, be productive, before Rasmus awakens and he’s surrounded by domestic bliss. 

Sometimes, that involves sitting on the floor, lying down, shoddily dressed in pyjamas or whatever feels comfortable, staring at blueprints. 

He’s convinced himself that he knows what he’s doing. It helps to have that watchful eye, that pressure on him. Even if it’s only in this moment, and no other time. Peter can focus more clearly, let the dots connect… The Kontserdisaal is grand, intricate, and beautiful. 

He lets himself yawn as his fingers drag over the page, as he mumbles this and that, thinking the rest in his head. 

He can feel Rasmus lingering behind him, crouched down on the floor like it’s natural. Then, his hands press against Peter’s shoulders, soothing and yet heavy. 

Grounding him. This is where he is. This is what he’s doing. He’s an architectural engineer named Peter, and this is Rasmus, adorable Rasmus, right beside him. 

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” The Brit laughs, turning to face the other man, “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” The blond replies, looking between his tired face and the blueprint on the floor, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… Why do you have to work all the time?” 

The Jackal flashes a smile as he strokes a thumb over his cheek. He knows damn well why, he’s on deadline, out to kill people. 

It excites him. Killing people. He really is a twisted motherfucker, isn’t he? 

Instead, Peter says, “It’s important, Rasmus. And work, well… It keeps my mind running. I always need something to do.” 

The security guard, cheeky as all hell, just smirks at him. 

“Yeah, yeah, you do... ” 

The brown-haired man simply rolls his eyes. 

2.

Peter lies down on the bed the next time, eyes blinking to stay awake. 

Rasmus is working a late shift tonight, so he has more time to himself.

He laughs, letting the sound reverberate and echo, filling the quiet flat. He’s tracing out the page like the security man traces his scars.

It’s stupid, and yet, delightful. Sitting here as night’s falling, and he’s enjoying these intricacies…

He can’t blame himself, though. He’s enjoyed them for years, professionally and recreationally. It’s all second-nature to him.

He hums, mulling the situation over. So many doors, but only a few designated exits. How will he make his escape?

Yes, he’ll make his escape by—

The door creaks open behind him, revealing a silhouette of the man he loves, sweaty, dishevelled and smiling.

“Sorry, love. Did I wake you?” He breathes, gesturing to the bathroom, planning to shower.

Peter rolls over with wide eyes and shakes his head, “I’ve been studying.” 

“Oh.” Rasmus mumbles, stepping forward to see… Right. This thing that he loathes. “Yeah, of course.” 

He’s an architectural engineer… This stuff is what he puts his life and soul into. He has to remind himself of the fact.

Nevertheless, he sits at the edge of the back, and Peter makes room for him. The blond laughs and cups his cheek, planting kisses all over his face, before latching onto his lips. 

Peter reciprocates, slow, careful, similarly running his hand over Rasmus’ face, his good man face, before he pulls back, making a face of semi-disgust.

“Goodness, you really are sweaty. Did they make you run laps in that venue or what?!” 

The security guard blushes, “That combined with racing around for the tech crew will do that to you.” 

“Go shower. I’ll still be here.” 

With a nod, he leaves, pulling off his jacket first and proceeding to get undressed. 

He has, unfortunately, not been successful in his task, one he’s formed so quickly and decided so keenly on. But he knows he has time, and Peter Gibson is so dangerously human.

So human, in fact, that he looks at a blueprint like it has hung the moon for him.

Well, that’s a little fucked up, if Rasmus has anything to say about it… 

3.

Rasmus rolls over and bumps into Peter’s shoulder, laughing quietly.

“You there, darling?” He asks, not without a gentle grin.

He knows his lover has the tendency to drift off after their whirlwinds of passion. And tonight is no exception. 

“I’m here,” Peter mumbles, sparing the blond a glance, before returning his gaze to the ceiling. 

He unwinds in this way, Rasmus has found. Staring at the ceiling, as though searching for something only he can see. Is he daydreaming or replaying the moments in his head? Is he living out his past or thinking of the future?

“Hey, once you’re done recharging…” He smirks, running a hand over the other’s chest, “You know, I’d be happy to go again.” 

Peter laughs at the idea, smiles softly, and snuggles in closer to Rasmus, kissing his cheek. 

Then, just like that, he’s gone and distanced himself, arms hugging his body, staring at the goddamn ceiling.

“Not tonight, beloved,” Peter whispers, blinking. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow.” 

Rasmus flushes, more taken aback than anything else, “Wh— I do too , Peter. Is there something I’ve done?” Worry laces his voice, “Have I overstepped?” 

The brown-haired man shakes his head, turning to face the other now. It’s ironic, he thinks, for the security guard to be overwhelmed like this, to be a bundle of insecurities. 

“No, you haven’t.” He runs a hand over Rasmus’ cheek. “You could never overstep. And if you do, I’ll tell you… And I assume you’d do the same with me, yeah?” He pauses for breath, watching the blond nod, “You know who I am, beloved. You really know. How we're even working in the same place is beyond my wildest dreams— So, if I’ve got a long day, I’ve got a long day. I’ve got to keep big places structurally sound.” 

Rasmus rolls his eyes, as though to say, ‘I know that!’, and he parts his lips, finding the words… But first, he gestures to the ceiling, “Are you imagining something up there? A big achievement with your engineering? Is that it?” 

Peter simply lies flat on his back again, scratching his nose before sighing. “Almost there, Rasmus.” 

And the bedroom falls silent. 

Eventually, the blond falls asleep, watching his lover somehow stay awake for so long. He stays there, watching, watching as his mouth moves, but nothing comes out… 

From a part deep within his brain, it clicks. 

Peter’s thinking about those blueprints, isn’t he? 

4.

“You’re kidding, right?” 

The Jackal looks up from his bowl of cereal, met with Rasmus’ surprisingly stern gaze. 

“I don’t kid about anything.” 

The blond pats the table, or more specifically, the page spread across it. Weighty, large, and diagrammed all over. 

He’s worked at the Kontserdisaal for most of his life… He understands the beauty behind the building, understands its worldwide acclaim, but to this extent? No, no. Any further on, and he’s just baffled. 

“So,” The security guard begins, sitting down opposite Peter, “You really never get bored of ogling this thing?” 

“Never,” He hums, sighing and letting the tension unwind in his shoulders. “I mean, it’s a job thing. You wouldn’t get sick of scanning patrons, would you?” 

“Well,” Rasmus leans forward, clasping his hands together, “Sometimes. I found you that way, so, no, not always… But there’s another high-tech scanner being installed in a few days. That’ll take some of the pressure off.” 

In a few days. The Jackal’s mind races, A few days… When UDC is holding the opening ceremony for River. 

“Oh, sure.” He replies absentmindedly, eating another spoonful of cereal before shuffling over to the page. 

Peter can’t help his intense stare at the blueprint now. As a hitman, not as a normal civilian, and even less as an architectural engineer. 

His breath hitches. The calculations stir inside his brain. How far to take the shot from, how lethal it’ll be, how to do it all and remain undetected. 

His fingers drag over from the door, to the dress circle seats, then down to the stage. 

He’ll have to take his shot from the top, somehow, whilst he lays low in what is basically a ventilation space for two days… 

Well, that’s if he’s caught. That’s if he needs a desperate last resort. 

“Peter?” Rasmus asks, his eyes wide with concern, “Is everything ok?” 

He chuckles it off and leans back in his seat, facing his lover now. He doesn’t dare to touch his cereal. 

“Yeah, everything’s alright.” He nods, letting his fingers tap against the table’s surface. “I just– It’s like an adrenaline rush, you know?” 

“I get it.” The blond replies as he strokes a thumb through Peter’s hair, “I always find there’s a thrill when scanning so many people in a row, a spike of something inside, thinking the next person will be dangerous or armed with something.” 

The Jackal simply smirks, because he’s as dangerous as they come. 

5.

Rasmus returns to his flat, shopping bags in tow. He dumps them unceremoniously on the kitchen counter and catches his breath. 

He doesn’t know where Peter is, whether he’s working, sleeping, getting dressed… It doesn’t matter. Maybe he needs some time to himself. The more that he thinks about it, the more that he realises how false that is.  

Every day with the dangerous architectural engineer feels like forever. He feels like he needs him to breathe. 

He stretches from side to side and wanders through the space, peering through the dim light. “Hey, Peter?” He calls out, “You here?” 

After a few moments of silence, he hears, “Yeah! Outside!”, and Rasmus turns on his feet. 

Goddamn Peter Gibson is indeed outside. Sitting on the balcony, glasses on, a light wind blowing. And he looks cute as all hell. 

He opens up the balcony door and sits by the man’s side. Again, he’s dealing with a blueprint, and that only causes some unusual feelings to stir inside Rasmus.  

“Come on, man…” He pouts, resting his head against Peter’s shoulder. 

He opts to kiss Rasmus’ head, laughing. “Whatever do you mean?” He bats his eyes, before turning back to the page at hand. 

The security guard lets silence fall upon them as they mingle like this, attached to the hip, as Peter’s eyes light up upon spotting particular things. 

He lets the silence run on… Or, at least, for a little while. 

It’s not long later that he’s had enough. At least, in his young, impulsive mind, he’s had enough. Peter is serious, determined, patient, and loving… He seems mature beyond his years, almost. 

But Rasmus has had enough. If the architectural engineer has to leave in a few days, he’ll milk all of this for what it’s worth. 

He leans into the brown-haired man, his head pressed against his neck before he laughs, starts leaving kisses all over. He deepens those kisses, just for a moment, feeling the blood rush through Peter’s body, before the engineer pulls away. 

He breathes in a sharp breath before exhaling slowly, filled with a pleasure that dawns upon him. A gentle sort of high. He hums noncommittally, but keeps his gaze on Rasmus. A silent signal for him to stay still. 

“Look, beloved, if you’re trying to compete, I should let you know that nothing turns me on like a blueprint, so..." 

The blond takes the hint, planting one last kiss against his neck before he sits upright, eyes sparkling. 

“Do me a favour, then, sweetheart. Show me the hot bits!” 

+1.

The Jackal huffs out a breath, staring out at the early morning sky. 

The crack of dawn. Today is the day. Off to the Kontserdisaal, going into hiding, leaving Rasmus all on his lonesome, and killing UDC– 

He’s never been this nervous for a hit before. 

After calculating everything to this moment, from his personas, passports, disguises, and masks, the nature of his true identity sinks right back into his mind. Into his bones.  

He is not Peter, the charming, playful architect. And he never will be again. 

It’s a scary thought, one that he won’t dare to admit. 

He shakes his head and shakes it off, at least, as much as he can manage. His eyes meet the blueprint, one last time, and he runs through his pointing routine: Start here, enter casually amongst the crowd, buy food and water, camp out, shoot above the glass that will protect UDC, and kill him…  

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears a shuffling from behind him, and he gasps for breath. 

“Geez, Rasmus. That scared me.” He’s not even lying through his teeth with that one. And he’s been through war. 

The blond laughs ever so softly, “Didn't mean it, never do.” He sighs, sitting down next to Peter. “What’s going on?” 

The hitman looks up at him, conviction ablaze in his eyes, “Today’s the day that everything comes to fruition.” 

“Right.” The security guard glances down at the blueprint, and shakes his head. In one swift movement, he folds up that blueprint and shoves it well aside. 

The Jackal’s expression widens, while Rasmus’ brows furrow. 

“No more of that.” He continues, gesturing to the page, “That thing that has been haunting you for days. You don’t need to look at it anymore, because you know it inside out. It’s just like you said, ‘everything happens today’, so… Go do your job, Peter.” 

Go do your job, Peter. 

The engineer nods resolutely and shuffles closer to Rasmus, cupping his face with both hands. 

“I will.” He then adds, almost in afterthought, “You have good man face, Rasmus.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Peter lets out a laugh, “You just… Radiate this kindness, and so naturally. There needs to be more of that in the world, but I’m so lucky to have found you.” 

The blond blinks, humming quietly as a blush rises to his face. For once, he doesn’t know what to say, or do. It feels like all his charm and sway with Peter has vanished into thin air. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter, because his lips are captured in a kiss as the brown-haired man leans forward. Bodies pressed together, only pulling away for air, and the embrace is full of depth, of meaning. 

It feels like a goodbye. 

Rasmus cards his hands through Peter’s hair, and Peter’s hold on his face ceases to relent.

They breathe, sitting there in stillness, and the hitman makes the next move. 

“Take care.” He breathes, planting one last kiss against his cheek, “If I never see you again–” 

“I’ll see you again, Peter. I know I will.” 

The Jackal slowly stands and helps the blond up too, as he moves over to his suitcase, packs it away, and takes the bare essentials out to the Kontserdisaal. 

Including his metal boot, which he puts on once he’s well out of Rasmus’ sight. 

[thelostgirl21]

I'm late to the party like you wouldn't believe, but I've got to say something, because I'm so upset!

Okay, unpopular opinion, I actually loved Jaskier's Season 3 hair!

Was it always perfectly styled? No. There were a few scenes where I personally thought it could have used a bit more volume, or a bit more volume in some places while a bit less in others; but, most or the time, I was more than fine with it, and thought it suited Jaskier well!

At times, I literally adored it!

Ex:

To me, those are moments where I thought Jaskier looked his best in the series! Loved the hair!

Then again, personally, I tend to prefer Joey's looks with his forehead cleared and his hair longer.

Like, this is I think one of the most gorgeous non-feral hairstyles I've ever seen on him:

(X)

This is an absolutely gorgeous man, and I personally prefer his hair styled like this than short.

(Note: I'm not saying he's not beautiful with short hair, too, simply stating personal preferences. Certain aesthetic choices are based on comfort, too, and he can 100% afford to sacrifice the "long haired look" for something that makes him feel more comfortable. He can rock plenty of different looks!)

Then, of course, there's the feral look that is just in its own category...

So why am I upset?

I've just found out that he didn't wear a wig in Season 3!

That Jaskier's Season 3 hair were simply Joey's own hair that he had decided to grow out.

And look, I'm fine with everyone having preferences!

That's not my issue. Having your own tastes and not being a fan of Joey's Season 3 hairstyle is not the issue at all!

There were posts simply mentioning that they hated that it looked so flat, when we could have been graced with something a bit more like this:

And I do get preferences when it comes to styling.

It's just that I recall how - since people assumed it was "an ugly wig" that had been forced on his head by the wig department, rather than what they considered "a bad hairstyle" - the comments on "Jaskier's hair" were at times downright nasty!

And I just gotta get out of my system that those of you that have been literally making fun of his "sudden 4-inches receeding hairline" (first I'll have you know I find receeding hairline pretty hot!), when it's kinda remained the same for 3 seasons (it's called BANGS people. Joey tends to wear those with his shorter haircuts! Look it up!), for example, really suck!

His hairline has always gone pretty far up on each side, even in some of his earlier work... Ex: Gopher in "Mount Pleasant" (2016):

Like he's got very thick hair that form a "V" shape at the top (my mom had that, but I didn't inherit it... And we've got tons of hair... Like, a lot! * ) and a pretty large forehead.

*

(That's me at 18, and then at 28 - before I brought them back to a lower back length - but my mom is the same in terms of thickness, she just has that V in the front I lack, and it never receeded any further in her life.)

And there would be no shame in having thin hair, or any form of baldness anyway!

So yeah! I remember sort of heavily ignoring all those "ugly wig" comments because I, too, had assumed it was a wig (turns out Joey's hair seem to be a bit like mine, and grow pretty fast), and at some point you choose your battles.

Did I think a bunch of you were immature assholes for needing to hate on that "ugly wig" so much? Yes. But you find those in any fandom!

Personally, I thought "the wig" was awesome!

But now, I kinda regret not having taken the time to be more supportive of Jaskier's Season's 3 hair given I actually like it...

Because that's just a (very sweet) human being's hair, that was styled in a way that a number of people didn't like.

Again, zero problem for those that thought it was badly styled, and that the look didn't suit Jaskier!

Critiquing what you find a "bad hairstyle" is no cause for shame!

But, for those of you that took it to the next level with all those "ugly wig" comments, you fucking suck, I sure hope you've since found out that you'd been openly ridiculing a fellow human being's real hair, that it makes you feel like complete pieces of shit, and that feeling like complete pieces of shit is going to help you learn from your mistakes, before you start attacking other people's personal physical features in the future!

"Well, I didn't know!"

Here's today's lesson:

When you don't know, please kindly shut up and assume the hair you see is the real thing!

Or critique the wig like you would a real hairstyle, asking yourself "Hmm... Is describing someone's real hair the way I do going to make me sound like a bully?"

Like I said, I'm aware I'm pretty late to the party, but the the kid in me that got heavily bullied in school over her own hair really needed to get it out of her system!

[ferrocyan]

ffxiv write day 28 - deleterious

(continued from here. some dialogue is taken from canon, but the story is a bit canon divergent)

yaana feels the air change behind her, an electrifying shift not unlike the start of a match. she glances back and sees tart with his signature onstage smirk, propped up with one hand on the wall in pretend-cockiness. "yeah, need anything from me, witch?" he taunts eutrope.

she scoffs and turns to yaana. "i'm not here to fight you, but to talk to my sisters."

yaana startles for a moment, then snarls, "good, because we have a mountain of questions for you. why did you disappear without a word? what exactly have you been doing all this time?" her fists are balled tightly, claws digging into her palms.

eutrope's gaze flickers for a moment. she watches her and neyuni in turn, then thinks better of her explanation, telling them simply, "i'll explain everything in due course." just as yaana is about to quip, oh, classic eutrope, always with that excuse, the next words out of the elder sister's lips makes her freeze.

she says something eutrope never would: "yaana, you need to give up fighting right now."

"wh-what? why?!"

"because if you repeatedly transfigure your flesh with a feral soul, you'll eventually develop psychonekrosis-- an irreversible disease where your own soul degrades," eutrope states flatly. as if she's talking about her morning training regime or her diet, "once it's begun, it's too late. all you can do is await death...like me." only at the end her voice wavers.

yaana's own is much shakier than hers. "this... this can't be true." she looks at her younger sister, torn up with fear just like herself; her older sister, resolute, having accepted the fact of her situation; then her eyes arrive at her partner--

tart looks white as a snow-crashed terminal, his mouth hanging open and backed to the wall. he's horrified,

but not surprised. yaana can't shake the sense of it. why. why not--

she hears the words, barely thinking as she speaks them, "isn't that why fighters get immortalized? so we can get out before it's too late?"

"yaana. have you ever met one of the immortalized?"

she blinks. tart is here, isn't he? whoever--whatever it is claiming to be the arcadion fighter souleater--

eutrope explains how she looked into the immortalized due to changes in her own body, and ended up finding the truth. yaana tries to listen, but--there's too much, her thoughts are racing and clamoring one after another--eyes closed, deep breaths. just stop--stop thinking! her hands start to hurt, and yaana realizes her claws have drawn blood. she focuses on them for the moment.

neyuni had asked if there was a cure for eutrope's--their--condition, and her older sister replied with a yes, "it's a soul of surpassingly dense constitution. like yours," she glares at tart.

the champion has swallowed his unease, sporting a mocking grin again. he drawls, "a-ha, so you do need something from me!"

"i've heard enough of your jokes," eutrope snaps. "you're only talking back now because i had become weaker than i'd realized. but mark my words, souleater, i will be the one to devour you!"

he approaches eutrope as she speaks, stalking closer and closer. yaana's breath catches in her chest when he leans menacingly over her sister, neither backing down until their foreheads clash together.

"sounds good, wicked thunder!" souleater laughs. "my soul's yours if you can take it."

the front door creaks open at that moment, and the two deadlocked fighters flinch away from each other. eutrope flees from the room--then exiting from the basement, out of their house altogether, without saying another word.

[angelicyoongie]

MAGGYYYYY

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(please excuse my late rant about your latest Lovesick chapter, but I finally have some time to breathe and read)

The WHOLE chapter had me so feral DUGFSODFFDU like I was immediately shocked at the beginning when the MC was in absolute pain and I did feel a little bad upon discovering that Yoongi and Taehyung went out of their way to get a nice Christmas tree :( (but that still doesn't excuse them!!) I was glad to see more interaction between the MC and Jin and Hobi! I am also VERY excited for what will happen between them next chapter 👀👀👀

BUT OHHH BOY THE SMUTTT 🥵🥵🥵🥵

Can I just start off with how beautifully you write smut??? Like, not many writers have the same capacity to write it as fluidly and as ardently as you do! I could feel the tension and heat projecting from the scene and was absolutely immersed in all of it! The lines "Can't stop thinking about how good you'd look choking on our cocks," "...we're going to make you come so much you forget your own name," "Can I fuck you? Is that alright?," and "I'm going to take such good care of you, Y/n, promise" had me in an absolute CHOKEHOLDDDDD, I COULDN'T BREATHE OUFSDFOFGD (therewerealsosomanymorelinesbutthatwouldjustbecopyingandpastingyourentirechapter)

Also the fact that Jimin came prepared and brought condoms to the cabin had me chuckling LOL

I was so excited to see Tannie!! Finally, something to break the monotony for the MC and give a spark of hope :') Even then, I was really hoping for SOME understanding from the boys regarding the lovesick theory, but, like you mentioned in an earlier ask, it's too early for them too hear that right now. I hate to say it, but MC might need to wait a couple months (or years??) for them to finally come to their senses and realize how concerning their behavior has been. I still have hope for the MC's freedom!!!

That aside, Maggy, I hope you are staying as happy and healthy as can be and take as much time as you need for the next chapter! I am sure many readers, myself included, are more than willing to wait for whatever more you have in store for us. Can't wait for the finale of Lovesick!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

K

omg no worries, i hope you're doing well! 🥺

i gotta switch it up a little bit every now and then, lol! keep u guys on your toes 😌 taegi did try to do something sweet so i do feel a little bad for them sdhsjk. i think you're really going to enjoy the next chapter if you're looking forward to 2seok and the mc together, hehe 👀

AAAAA thank you so much!! 😭 it's funny because writing smut is such a struggle for me, it just never seems to get easier lmao. but it means a lot that you think it's still good regardless!!

it had to be him 💀

tannie is just the bestest boy and he's doing wonders for the mc's mental health for sure! yeah, it would've been great if they had shown some understanding but it's simply just too early :( they have had good progress so far but there's still quite bit to go, so i don't think months to years is an unreasonable timeline 😬

thank you so much K, you're so sweet to me and i always love reading your comments!! 💖 they mean the world to me 🥺💖 i hope you'll enjoy the final chapter tomorrow as well!!

[ravencromwell]

Am back to watching the best! tutor-era show in existence: one Wolf Hall, adapted by the incomparable Peter Straughan because Thomas Cromwell, fundamental gutter-rat who'll fight dirtier than half the bastards in London even know is possible while having a veneer of polished civility is giving me the fiercest Ros Vortalis vibe my GOD. So, I thought I'd share the best fucking exchange from the show which is just Mark Rylance's Cromwell going absolutely fucking feral over dinner with the tiniest provocation over his surrogate dad Cardinal Wolsey. I can't find the YouTube clip, which is an absolute travesty because the dialogue alone will never do Mark's performance justice and any of you who haven't devoured this series find it by any means necessary and then come scream about it with me. But for now, let me show you the ambassadorial dinner no one fucking expected disgraced Tom Cromwell to have the balls to show up at:

[Tom, cool as a cucumber while everyone else freezes in horror since they have absolutely! been gossiping about him]: "Did you want to talk about me, Master More? You can speak while I'm here, I have a thick skin." [Thomas More's inner monologue: oh, fuck the crazy bastard who's been a hired mercenary! of all things! for our enemies the French! showed up oh he's _looking at me oh dear let me wipe the sweat from my brow with this napkin and give the master-class on everything you don't do to lie convincingly]: "No-one was talking of you." [Cromwell: inwardly rolling up sleeves. Oh, this will be fun!]: "Of the Cardinal, then?" [poor. poor host: I will salvage my dinner if it's the last thing I do. I simply must summon my power of manic cheer!] Thomas, this is Monsieur Chapuys, the Emperor's new ambassador here in London. Monsieur Chapuys, my friend, Thomas Cromwell. [poor new ambassador who doesn't understand what's about to happen to his polite society debut]: Enchanted. [after which he makes his evening's first and last mistake, leaning over to Thomas More to chat in Italian: "I have heard of this one. No one knows where he comes from. Like the wandering Jew." [poor bastard's new and dumb and fails to understand Cromwell isn't happy since Wolsey fell unless he eviscerates six people before bed] [Tom inwardly: oh, this is how we're gonna play it?] "I hardly know where I come from, myself. If you want to speak half-secretly, try Greek, Monsieur Chapuys." [host, staring between a gawp-mouthed new ambassador, sulking Thomas More and smug as a pig in shit Tom Cromwell: manic cheer aid me now! Upon which he says to More:] "My friend, you are looking at your herring as if you hate it." [Thomas More, making five-year-olds look like Zen masters of self-control by comparison]: "There's nothing wrong with the herring." [poor host, finally defeated]: "Ah." [More, who cannot let himself keep getting slapped around he's a man of importance I tell you!]: "But of Cardinal Wolsey, I'll say only this -he has brought his fall on himself. He's drawn all to himself - land, money and titles. He's always had a greed for ruling over other men. I think it's a little late to read the Cardinal a lesson in humility. His real friends have read it long ago and been ignored." [Cromwell inwardly: this stopped being fun and became the biggest crock of shit I've ever been priveleged to witness. Fuck civility.] "And you count yourself a real friend, do you? I'll tell him - and by the blood of Christ, Lord Chancellor, he'll find it a consolation as he sits in exile and wonders why you slander him to the King." [Host, genuinely scared they might fight with the butcher knives now and More is a weedy little thing Cromwell could take him without even breaking a sweat oh god what if he dies at my dinner? Because I invited Cromwell Thomas More is second-in-command to the king!] "Gentlemen..." [Cromwell, oblivious, having worked up his full glorious head o' steam]:" No, let's have this straight. Thomas here says, "I'd spend my life in the church, if I had a choice. I'm devoted to things of the spirit. I care nothing for wealth. The world's esteem is nothing to me." So how is it I come back to London and find you've become Lord Chancellor? What's that?" Three beats of aching, glorious silence. "A fucking accident?"

[macchiatosdumptruck]

So, all the recent A/B/O LaKreese ideas got me thinking...

They've been a couple for a while, but Daniel's got baby-fever (he's an Omega, it's in his nature to want to cuddle and nurture--look how he fusses over his grumpy Alpha!).

So Daniel sets out to plan a John-seduction.

Waits till John gets home from work one evening, makes himself look extra-breedable (John's a simple guy, all Daniel does is throw on thigh-high socks and old oversized sports-sweatshirt with nothing under), cook a damn good dinner, not-so-innocently sits on John's lap while eating it, and when John's just about ready to rail him on the kitchen table for being such a fuckable little tease, Daniel leads him to the bedroom (the kitchen is for EATING not SEX!), climbs into John's lap once more just like a kitten, and says, with his best pout,

"John, tonight I want you to put a baby in me."

It takes just a moment, but Kreese goes absolutely feral.

(Daniel can't walk the next day, but it's okay because he knows John listened.)

And if they're not married, Kreese makes sure they go to the courthouse within a week because he'd damn sure as hell not bringing a pup into a house with an unmarried Alpha and Omega. Shit like that is exactly why society is going to the dogs11!11!

"I put a baby in you, now you'll do this for me." John says, leading Daniel unrelentingly by the hand inside the courthouse. No refusals, he's in Captain mode. Daniel doesn't argue--Johns old-fashioned like that, but it's kinda...nice (and he cleans up real good). And you know what else is nice? The surprisingly pretty ring John gruffly put on Daniel's finger the night before, right after railing him so nice and good.

There was no fancy proposal or anything: just immediately after Daniel returned from sex-induced subspace, he discovered a ring on his finger--perfectly fit to his size too! John had brushed back his damp bangs and simply said in that forthright way of his, "Stay with me from now on, Daniel."

And Daniel does.

I appreciate Daniel's determination to respect the sanctity of the kitchen.

I wonder what triggers his baby fever? Maybe his body senses that they're highly compatible for an alpha/omega pair? If not emotionally, than at least for reproductive purposes. Which is the reason why those pesky urges come up.

Imagine the shock that John would experience if he wasn't expecting that. Daniel just comes out and says it plainly. Zero hesitation or shame. It was something that John was having well meaning day dreams about but didn't dare to actually conceptualize his want. Maybe it was too late for him? He was a crotchety old bag anyway.

"Put a baby in me?"

So John blue screens at that. His inner alpha is immediately screaming at him to take this very fertile looking omega.

He's not afraid to use his strength to get what he wants but he also doesn't believe in pushing omegas around. This time he lets himself manhandle Daniel extra roughly. (But once the initial feral urge to breed is through he makes up for it by treating him very tenderly.)

He puts Daniel in the traditional submissive omega position because it's proven to increase chances of conception.

This is where my brain halts me and doesn't let me have my silly fun because I'm thinking about claiming. And how that's very much a Thing for traditional alpha/omega pairings.

My headcanons behind claiming are complicated and varied. But I tend to view claiming as something more permanent than marriage. Marriage is a contract. Claiming is instinctual. It's about the natural

Some people think bonding isn't necessary in a committed relationship or to bear children and they're right, but it's still what's expected if the couple wants to stay together long term.

There are people who can get claimed by more than one partner, whether they're part of a larger pack dynamic or if their past partner has passed away.

I've read one or two fics where it's possible to undo a claiming, but it's a very difficult and painful process. So to most people it's as good as sealing the deal. This is who they're with now.

That must be exciting and terrifying.

Is Daniel already claimed? How long did it take John to reach that decision? Was it in the heat of the moment? Was Daniel initially upset and overwhelmed? I think of these two and their tendency to rush into things and imagine it may have been an accidental claiming at the time.

There's so much to play with there about young Daniel who never expected himself claimed at such an age and especially not like this.

It was very much a "fuck around and find out" situation. LITERALLY.

But back to the situation at hand.

Once Daniel is passed out John got a piece of string and wrapped it around Daniel's finger when his hand was limp with sleep. Then he marked it and took it to the jewelers. That's how he got the ring the right size.

And maybe he already had the ring because, his stupid alpha instincts allowed him to hope for once and that's why it's already made.

[sukurarose92]

Okay, a friend of mine said "obi-wan about Anakin" and it gave me several silly ideas so i'm gonna share them. Insert random headcanons about Anakin and his catch-it-eat-it diet below the line.

I'm just imagining Anakin opening cabinets, getting down on the floor and searching. Army crawling to look under tables and cabinets, pausing to sniff once in a while.

"Its around here somewhere... i just know it"

"Did you lose something?"

"No. There's an ant in here"

"Oh?... did you see it?"

"No. I can smell it. Its taunting me"

"You can.... smell the ant?" -there is a moment of silence "AHA!" "Oh. oh no. Anakin please don-- oh stars"

It's too late. Anakin has already put it in his mouth. This ties into coming from a planet where food is a little more scarce. He was raised where if you can catch it, you eat it. and obi-wan's reaction implies that he knew it was coming. which led me to headcanon number 2. This is not a new occurrence. You ever imagine the other jedi masters watching this mid-twenties fresh baby faced knight trying to wrestle a small reptile from the grubby hands of feral desert child? Because i have.

Anakin is upset because he caught it to eat it and obi is trying to convince him that there is plenty of food in the cafeteria, please do not eat that.

Perhaps, an 11 year Anakin running by with pudgy stuffed cheeks, obi-wan hot on his heels, shouting frantically "WHAT IS IN YOUR MOUTH?!"

Hearing from another room "SPIT THAT OUT THIS INSTANT! YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT'S BEEN!" Followed by the sounds of a scuffle, which is certainly Knight Kenobi trying to wrestle Anakin's mouth open like an unruly dog with a wrapper, attempting to get it out of him mouth. then a sharp yelp "you BIT me?!" if it's small enough to fit in his mouth, it's going in. Bugs. Lizards. if he catches a small rodent he'll cook it first. but he'll eat it.

Headcanon number 3. Obi-wan is utterly devestated when he discovers that Ahsoka will also eat small critters.

Anakin spots a bug and stares at it, moving to stalk and it sets Ahsoka off. Next thing you know, her pupils have turned to slits and she's fallen into step, stalking alongside him. It doesn't matter who catches it first, Anakin gives it to Ahsoka because he's a good Master.

"here. i had one earlier. you can have this one"

"thanks master!"

Obi-wan is making an utterly despaired sound in the background.

"oh. i'm sorry master obi-wan. did you want that?"

"oh no, snips. obi-wan's a picky eater. he doesn't eat bugs"

"force have mercy. there's two of them"

Next headcanon. fuck naming them. there's too much going on here.

Obi-wan has no spice tolerance, which is a huge issue considering that he spent years hiding out on Tattooine where EVERYTHING is spicy, including the meats. This means that he has to find alternative means of getting his nutrients.

This ends up being a diet comprised of desert grasses, roots, mushrooms, legumes, and insects.

he's scooping out the insides of a giant millipede while staring into the distance, disassociating through dinner. He spends so many meals half to tears because "Anakin would've loved this" -- both the mean and watching Obi-wan suffer through eating bugs.

Next headconnon.

Anakin is a little shit.

that's not a new idea, you say. i know. that part is canon. hear me out though.

Freshly Knighted Anakin taunting Obi-wan with his own nuggets of wisdom

"a varied diet is paramount for a healthy body, master. it's important~" and he's holding up a grasshopper.

"no, thank you, anakin. there is plenty of nutritional value to the temple made meals. i'm quite alright."

"but master. i caught this just for you."

"that's very kind but i simply couldn't" Obi-wan is not very fond of bugs to begin with but he's less fond of them when Anakin decides he wants to chase him with them. "no! stop that!"

"c'mon master, eat it!"

"stop that, you menace!!! anakin no!"

obi-wan afterwards is bent over, hands on his knees after force running around the temple with Anakin chasing him. He's gasping for breath.

And then Anakin just approaches, still holding the bug and Obi-wan has clearly hit his limit of what he's willing to put up with and Anakin grins before popping it in his mouth.

"look at that, master. my force running has gotten better. i can keep up with you now~" 😇

"we-- *gasp* should've left you on Tattooine-- *wheeze* where we found you, you brat" *various dying sounds*

"but ya didn't~❤️"

Obi-wan is ready to kick his ass.

I doubt that it's the only time this has happened. Which brings me to my final points. The addition of Yoda to this horrible shit show.

Anakin's bug buddies, Ahsoka, and Yoda.

We have Anakin chasing Obi-wan once more with a different insect. This happens to be a bad time to be wandering the halls. Obi-wan head to do a, rather graceful, flip to avoid taking out Masters Yoda and Plo Koon while on the run. Anakin is close behind and he barely has time for more than a shouted apology.

Anakin has his bug held high and is excitedly telling his master that "this one is crunchy. you'll like it!" with a little too much glee.

Yoda watches Anakin pass by. takes a deep breath and uses a long frog-like tongue to snatch the bug right out of anakin's hands.

"running in the hallways, against the rules, it is." ☺️

anakin, who knew his master wouldn't eat it and had planned to have it himself when he was done tormenting obi. -- "😟 my bug"

Yoda is, fondly, referred to as "Master Steal your lunch" by Anakin the next time he sees him. Yoda, seeming to sense his error, and enjoying being a menace as much as Anakin, even if it's kept under wraps for the most part, sees an opportunity to ruin someone's day.

He snatches a fly from midair with his tongue and then wipes it off on his robes before offering it to Anakin, well aware it had his saliva on it, as a replacement for his pilfered snack.

There room is draped in horrified silence.

obi-wan is nearly in tears

"oh, merciful force. Anakin, i beg you... don't... "

Anakin seems to have a silent conversation via eyes before he smiles pleasantly, takes the fly, thanks the master so very pleasantly, and just pops it in his mouth, to the unending despair of his master.

Obi-wan has his head in his hands, mortified by this nonsense.

"please, Master Yoda, i beg you, don't encourage him"

imagine if your boyfriend was like I can smell an ant. and started tracking

[cuteniarose]

To undo the headache, fine, fine, I'm cheating, you get two asks! MoM!

Now you’re talking!! Except.. hm, how about we make it more fun? New rule: I am only allowed to put in each character once, because otherwise… we’d just get stuck in an endless repeat of Suiren and Summiya, wouldn’t we?

*pulls up OC list because I just woke up and brain isn’t braining rn*

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) – Do I even have to say it? Suiren. Of course it’s Suiren. Who else would it be? Who else could POSSIBLY measure up to how much this feral wet cat of a traumatised lesbian means to me?? Nobody, absolutely nobody, nobody can compare , it’s not even a competition at this point. She genuinely has lived in my head rent free for almost 6 years now, thinking about her has got me through some hard shit, I draw her so much I could do it with my eyes closed… truly, she is the most important girl in the world and I love her beyond words <3

scrunkly (my "baby", character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) – Another obvious answer, but Ehuang. Come onl I literally call her Sweet Baby Ehuang, who else could I have picked? Specifically in that piece where she’s wrapped in The Blanket held by her mama. She’s the sweetest, most adorable little baby to have ever existed and I can’t believe it’s been almost a year since we created her. But also, honourable mention goes to Midori and Emran (yes, specifically him, not Aiza. Or at least not Lady Aiza, perhaps Acolyte Aiza triggers the same feelings, I’ll have to see if I ever draw her), because little Midori is as adorable as her daughter and Emran is who makes me think “scrunkly” whenever I look at him, he’s the So Shaped one <3 And.. my original Malina art remains my utmost favourite way I’ve ever drawn a face, there’s more character packed in there than in most of my other pieces combined, so perhaps she counts here too? Oh! Oh!! And Kumisai!!! I still love the way I drew her, very cute, very scrunkly 💚💚

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) – The Brothel Gang!! All of them at once, yes. They deserve so much more attention and love (and material for me to get off to 🤭) and like.. the only downside to having so many OCs is that there simply isn’t enough time to pay due attention to them all 😔 And just so we’re clear, Mekhali is very much included in this, because somehow, even though they’re the one who started this OC branch, they’ve become even less relevant than the girls :’) More brothel shenanigans content with the six of them and Mekhali and baby Kumisai and adorably awkward Summiya when???

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won't shut up about it for a week) – LIU AND NUYING AND AFARIN. THE DEAD MOM CLUB. YES YES I GET IT SUNAT IS UNIQUELY FASCINATING AND MAKES US CHEW ON DRYWALL BUT WHERE’S THE LOVE FOR THE REST OF THEM?? JUST BECAUSE THEY CANNOT PROVIDE EMOTIONAL REUNION SHENANIGANS DOESN’T MAKE THEM ANY LESS IMPORTANT, YOU HEAR ME??? (but also, honourable mentions of course go to their respective husbands, Bingwen and Cadeo and Siamak, since I’m weak for good fathers in media, it’s spiritually healing. And Cadeo WILL provide emotional reunion shenanigans at some point even if it kills me!! [And.. Ming-Hua was only 55 when Ehuang was born. Who’s to say that Cadeo can’t be around to meet his great granddaughter, the one named after the same legend as his late wife?? I’m making myself emotional thinking about this, fuck 😭]. As for the really, REALLY obscure honourable mentions, Shezan’s siblings. I’m extremely curious about them and what their lives ended up as.)

poor little meow meow ("problematic"/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) – HAYAAAAA. I know I’m the one who created her and made her as awful as she is, but… once upon a time she was just a fourteen year old girl who loved her Ma very much and had her entire world ripped away from her in a matter of weeks, with no one left to help her raise her little brother or to work so she can keep going to school and meeting with her friends or to simply comfort her as she deals with the biggest loss a child can experience 😭😭😭 Her past and what shaped her and how she became what she is and the way her future plays out makes me genuinely, genuinely insane, and I need to get back to my fic about her one of these days. But given that she is, in fact, a terrible person who, at least in the main verse, abused her nieces for sixteen years.. she is very much “problematic” and controversial 😅

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) – Jia ☠️ She gave me whumperflies once and I was never normal about her again, thanks Kat. She didn’t have to suffer the way she did, but my love for causing characters pain took over and I’m very, very obsessed with her fate and the aftermath and the eventual reunion with Aiza. I even drew her with flogging scars once, I am truly beyond saving when it comes to her. But also Summiya, because somehow my verdict of “a good dicking would fix her” turned into the most visceral and insanity inducing exploration of a character’s breakdown and fall from grace than I have ever seen before or since, and I LOVE shattering that porcelain doll and watching her struggle to put the pieces back together, knowing she will never again be able to hide the cracks >:)

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) – Jusamah and Himman. No other commentary necessary, I believe (but fun fact: when I answered this for MC some years ago I put Suleiman and Ibrahim in this same category, and given that they’re essentially the same characters as the previously mentioned ones in a different font… the years pass, the fandom changes, and yet Nia’s hatred of assholes ruining the lives of every woman they know stays the same 😂). Oh, and Daigo. He can rot 😊

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review III

Sunday Week In Review III.

What a week it has been - I’ve read some great updates to some really good fanfics this week (and some I still need to reblog to the dash) and I’ve been in my mother effing Joel Miller feels - but Frankie seems to be helping 😏

Hope everyone had a good week! I’d love to hear what you enjoyed this week and if you have your own week in review you want to share that I can link here!  

Side note: who was writing, or planning to write, something involving ex-Frankie on the beach? It popped into my head this morning and has not left me and no search I've done has yielded anything to the point now I think I'm making it up lol.

Disclaimer: did not get into any of my TBR fics, everything I read this week were updates to established starters or one-shots.

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings IV Mood board

Bookstore (Frankie x f!Reader)

Drip (Joel Miller x Reader) warning: hints at events of TLOU2

Hangar (Frankie x f!Reader)

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

The Locksmith Series by @oonajaeadira I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting into reading a series based on the The Thief from the Casillero del Diablo adverts. But this was a whole lot more than I expected and was such a great read. I don’t want to spoil too much, but it has just the perfect combination of magic, romance, tension and plot. This was a very enjoyable lazy Sunday morning read.

Delta Landscaping - Chapter 2 + 3 by @rhoorl okay, chapter 2? Was not expecting to be getting so teary eyed in the first half and then snorting with laughter in the second. Then the bonus of a THIRD chapter before the week was out? Jess is spoiling us with the events of Mulefall Court 🫏. I don’t want to spoil chapter 3, but it is a riot and I am eagerly waiting to find out what happens next! 

The Layover - Chapter 11 by @goodwithcheese I’m in denial that there’s one chapter and an epilogue left on this. However, trust me when I say this series will lend itself to a reread once it’s done! Frankie and Reader are in some feels in this chapter and have some stuff to work through. But as ever Jules BBF extraordinaire and “get you laid” fairy godmother comes in with some wise words ♥️

Hungry Hearts - Chapter 5 by @atinylittlepain This is a permanent entry on my fics read/recommended list forever - I could wax lyrical about how Joel Miller is Springsteen coded. However, things are coming to a head here both in the summer of 86’ and in present day for Cherry and Joel. I think we’re in for a bumpy ride with the next updates but I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out! You won’t be disappointed. 

Late Night Texts - Chapter 11 by @mvtthewmurdvck I had my worries about Javi & Reader as I made my way through this chapter and if this was a live action rom-com this would be the part where you shout at the TV because the happily ever after is just right there in sight only for it to be swiped away. But all is not lost because… I’m not going to give it away, go and read! 

Bloom by @nothoughtsjustmeds I very much dislike flowers, each to their own, but I simply don’t get the appeal. I appreciate them at a distance and think they’re pretty, but that’s where it ends for me. However, give me a flower shop trope and I am all over it will devour them all! (don't know what this says about me, lol) This one is no different and was actually a re-read when it popped up on my dash! Joel Miller is late, it’s Mother’s Day and he’s showing up in Readers store two minutes to closing in need of help and the rest… well, I’ll let you read it because it’s such a delight.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #11: Daniel Harper (Wing Pit) - A Kiss After Pain by @something-tofightfor Look. I’m not afraid to admit it, I’m feral for Daniel ‘Wing Pit’ Harper, and it’s because of @something-tofightfor’s fics. Go and read them and you’ll see what I mean. While you’re there go check out their Summer Kiss Prompt’s.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy: All of You, All of Me by @wyn-n-tonic If you haven’t read the series this wraps up, I suggest you do! Like, I could word vomit on this fic for days. However, this one-shot gives Joel & reader a tender ending that while it doesn’t fix everything, it gives life to a future for them both without guilt of the origins of their relationship. This was an unexpected treat on my dash this week and I encourage you to take a moment to read this series of you haven’t. 

Two Chances by @mrsquill A Joel Miller x Reader AU that has puppies, Joel and Sarah dynamics and did I mention puppies? It’s an adorable fluff piece that I hope we get to see a follow-up to!

Conversations With a Movie Star | Chapter 2 by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Hands down one of the best written Dieter's in my opinion and on top of that this is such an original idea of a story. Ava and Dieter play so well off one another and I can't wait to see how this is all going to play out. Also, I already love Desi and Lucy ❤️🦝

Fall Apart, Again | Chapter 3 by @wildemaven Okay, while on the topic of unique story ideas... this one right here! This, eurgh, I want to wrap this story in a blanket and give it a massive hug and tell it it'll be all okay. No secret I love me some good angsty fics, but there's a thin line you have to tread before it can dissolve into either a comedy of errors or just downright depressive verbage but Heidi, *chef's kiss* hits all the right notes with this story. Not going to get into much more as it is owed a reblog later today - but you cannot not get invested from the opening chapter.

March by @the-widow-miller I wasn't the only one this week in my Joel Miller feels - we both ended up posting our TLOU2 fics within days of one another and this one, eurgh, the whole thing cutting between present time and flashback and the ending? I'll let you get into this and get down deep in your Golfing feels.

Palomino | IX Warmblood by @fuckyeahdindjarin Going to admit it here, I am afraid of horses, I don't like them I think they're going to bite my hand off and yeah, so so pretty. But they frighten me. HOWEVER, this entire series has me wanting to go book a trek with the Statesmen, not only for my own Whiskey - but to witness the beautiful landscapes Cee has painted and weaved through this entire story. I also like how this ended, I'm not going to get into it because I don't want to spoil it - but if you've not read this series, you are in for a real treat!

Fics I’m Looking Forward to Reading…

Pulling from the gazillion tabs I have open that I need to move to a more formalized list that I’ll share next week if I get it done!

Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading So single dad Frankie is enrolling his daughter in your class and as the school year moves forward so does your relationship with Frankie… 

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

This Dave York character analysis thread, some interesting takes on his character and how he’s portrayed in both the film and fandom. 

@rhoorl's dive into the Vanity Plates of the Delta Boys, it had me howling! Also peep the post on what cars each of the boys drive while you're there too!

Things I’ve (NOT) Enjoyed This Week…

My great idea to watch a play through of the second TLOU game (not posting spoilers) and play it while I worked. I’m an idiot. A highly emotional idiot. Also going to take @gnpwdrnwhiskey's advice to re-read the first two chapters of @oonajaeadira's Leave off Your Wandering to satisfy the head-canon I have that TLOU2 is all about Joel going to live his best life on an alpaca farm.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

All the lovely feedback I got on my dive into the Catfish pond with my Frankie fics that I was actually afraid to post, it's actually been a little overwhelming. Also the feedback on Drip, despite pulling everyone down onto the floor in my Joel Miller feels lol. Thank you all for your reblogs, comments & likes - it really means a lot ❤️

This Week’s Song…

This week it’s an album, Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska - @atinylittlepain mentioned this book, Deliver Me from Nowhere: The Making of Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska (which I can’t wait to get stuck into) and so I’ve been listening to this album on repeat since. 

It’s one of those albums that sticks out at from a time when I was younger where I was figuring out what I liked and not being afraid of offending others with my choices or worrying that they weren't what everyone else liked.

Other Weeks in Review I Think You Should Check Out...

@rhoorl's Week In Review (8/27/23)

If you've made it this far! Feel free to share your own recommendations or favourite things that have happened this week or what you've enjoyed! 💕